i don’t give permission for anyone to copy and paste it as theirs! please do not copy my work! it isn’t fair to me and those around us. if you write fics and would like to use a similar idea or anything like that, that i have written, please credit me! thank you so much 💕
mason mount
sunset promises
late night confessions
unexpected results
public events
surprise surprise
officially pt.2 of surprise surprise
we meet again…
like old times pt.2 of we meet again…
oblivious
letting him know pt.2 of oblivious
ice cream thrill
three words
cherished memories
happiness all along with you
morning sunrise
always you
the cause and the fixing
grey skies and memories of you
words and items yet to be filled pt.2 of grey skies and memories of you.
well… hi!! trust me it’s kinda scary to post and write again, but i’m back… maybe… not sure… 😭💕 but in good news i’m posting the second part to love to hate :))) here’s a tiny teaser which i hopefully post by wednesday or friday!!
“please y/n…” mason dug his nose and traced the outline of your jaw, making you shiver. he felt so warm yet the feeling of betrayal returned, closing your eyes to avoid the tears.
“i don’t know if i can. it’s asking for so much. i just don’t know if i could ever trust or believe you after that,” mason’s heart sunk faster, the panic, pain, the urgency, he couldn’t stand it. “i never meant to hurt you i-“
“but you did! that’s what you don’t get! you, i mean we! we went through so many months together. i gave myself to you! i allowed myself to love you! i let you be my constant train of thought even when you didn’t deserve it” you yell, pushing him gently away and grabbing your stuff.
your chest tightened, a huge ball growing in your tummy at the memories back when you broke up with him. you whimpered, feeling as mason pulled you towards his chest to try at least one more time. but you shook your head once again.
“please y/n…”
“we both know you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t need me. but the funny thing is you do, and i can’t do that for you. you lost me the moment you revealed your true self to me. that mason, it makes you a coward, and it shows me who you really are…” not once in the single argument did you call his name. mason now more scared than ever and refusing to accept terms you weren’t longer his.
I loved the little drama at the beginning and how he then confessed everything
They are meant for each other and need to find their way
I missed your writing sooo much, thank you for posting this 🩷
STOP I MISSED YOU! I WAS GONE FOR SO LONG AND YOU STARED WRITING?? about to go read! 🏃🏻♀️ so proud of you love!! 💕💕
will definitely keep this in mind when i write, i haven’t gotten a chance too, but i will write it for you! words can’t explain how thankful i am for you! 🥹💕
summary: what happens when bsf! mason wants more, but you’re not willing too in order to protect your friends heart and yours.
wc: 1.3k
Hi everyone... It's been months... so forgive me... it's a Christmas miracle! 😭😭I hope everyone is doing okay and safe! I'd love to hear all about it if you'd like to speak about it! Feel like this is so bad and I lost my spark but I hope you can still enjoy :( 💕 don't forget to reblog, as us writers love to hear back from you!
“Stop! Don’t say another word,” you reluctantly stood being faced with Mason who stood confused. “You can’t say that Mason. You’re going out with her! One of my friends? How can you say that?” you defend your friend, even if she wasn’t there.
Being best friends with Mason wasn’t always easy. He forgot he was a normal person sometimes, and would let the fame get to his head, which is what he’s doing right now. Your parents and his were grateful more than ever to have you keep him in check because lord knew it would be a mess.
Mason had been flirting and going out with your friend Stella. From the stories she told, it sounded serious, and wanted more. You didn’t play Cupid, and part of you was slightly upset when you found out from Declan they were going out. Behind your back, not even a single word from Mason.
Stella was a beautiful blond, working at a law firm, and definitely super confident. You were the opposite, still at uni and trying to find a program that could promote your art. Art was your life, no matter what went on, it was a way for you to release all your energy into a blank canvas.
“All I’m saying is that I don’t like her like that anymore. She’s to stuck up and self-centered, I’m not ready for that commitment,” Mason reasoned but you shook your head with a no. This was him. Becoming a womanizer. Forgetting the good and little things that occurred in his life.
“You’re gonna break her heart? Before Christmas? Really?” you say with a pure questioning voice, your eyes squinting. Mason shrugged and nodded nonchalantly, “I don’t see why not. I realized I didn't want her. She’s not the one I want,” he said.
“So why play her? Drag it out this long. That’s not fair to her,” you say disgusted not being able to look at him. Mason always was a person you admired and looked up to, but deep down you fell for the freckled brown-eyed man. It was hard to resist and you refused to accept it, but when seeing them together, you couldnt help think it should be you aside him. “You don’t think it’s fair for me? I never wanted her, she threw herself at me.”
“Which is why I’m saying why play her when you should’ve made it clear from the start? You made her attached to you and let her believe your lies and promises. Mason what the actual fuck?” you spit out with pure rage. The room becomes hot as you begin to look around for the exit.
“She also played with me! I’m sure she didn’t tell you that because you’re blind to her. You’re so quick to defend her but what about me? Your best friend? Stella messed around with other men, while I stayed loyal to her. She’s a liar and a manipulator. So what if I end it before Christmas? I can finally have the person I want instead of being focused on someone who can’t even make time for me.”
This was certainly news to you, as you started to feel regretful for the way you screamed at him. To call him a womanizer and letting the fame get to him. You didn’t know Stella did this, it was news to you. As all she could brag about nowadays was about Mason this Mason that. She never mentioned talking with other people. He was right. You did let her get to your head.
“It’s okay I know you didn’t mean it, to scream at me,” Mason noticed your quiet tone, heart-wrenching as he tried to swallow the words that wanted to come out, before he knew it, he started speaking again. “I know you want what’s best for everyone, but when will you think of yourself? You also deserved to be treated right and loved by someone,” you eyed him weirdly and burst out laughing.
“Me being in in love? Or someone loving me? That’s impossible. I haven’t had a boyfriend in years, let alone go on dates. I’m starting to accept the fact I won’t find anyone, I mean look at me!” you said seriously, continuing to laugh. Mason frowned, shaking his head at the way you were talking to yourself.
“I am looking at you… and all I see is someone who’s scared of revealing who they truly are. The commitment maybe or afraid of being rejected. A beautiful, smart, independent woman,” Mason said carefully as he took steps closer to you. “Someone who deserves the world after putting everyone first before her. Why can't you see that? Why do you distance yourself from me?” he asked with urgency.
You would be lying if you said you slowly detached yourself from him. Avoiding plans or meetings because it hurt to see him. The idea of him not telling you he was going out with Stella, seeing them together when all your friends went out, your friend who still was with Mason, and being in love with your best friend but still trying to refuse it.
It drove you wild and often made you cry because everyone around you began to settle down, and you were left wondering why you couldn’t keep one good person in your life. You hated the fact of never being enough, for yourself or anyone around you. Maybe you weren't enough and that is what pushed people away.
“Mason…”
“Why can't you let me love you like you deserve? Let me take your worries and pains away? Let me be the man you need and love you unconditionally? What are you so afraid of? What else do I have to do to get your attention?” Mason confessed. The Christmas tree lighting made him look intimidating as he held your face in his large hands.
It was fucked up. He knew it was fucked up to mess with your friend to get you to see how madly he fell in love with you. It was an even bigger mistake to have dragged it out this long, knowing how distant and muted you were from him. He just wanted you to finally see that it was him all along.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, unable to look him in the eyes, because if you did, you would give it away how you felt about him. The eyes never lied. Your eyes never lied to him. “Say something please…” Mason pleaded, afraid he might've overstepped, or read the cards wrong.
“I'm not the right person for you Mase… I can’t give you what you want…” you painfully smiled, as both of your hearts sunk deeper. “I can't lose you like I’ve lost everyone else. We wouldn't work, I’m just way too different from the girls you've been with,” you say pulling away from his grasp and walking to the opposite end of the room.
“They're not you though. You will always come first. They didn't mean anything because it wasn't them I wanted, it's all along been you. I’ve spent way too much time thinking, losing you, suffering because you weren't with me. I'm tired of that, I just want you baby. Don't compare yourself to anyone in the world, because at the end of the day, you will be the first one I look for… I love you.” Your eyes widened, not realizing he stood in front of you again.
Your head felt heavy, filled with thoughts as they raced through your head. Your chest tightened at his words. After waiting so long to hear them, why did all of a sudden feel different? Like you didn't believe them. Believe him. Was it the fact she was still present, or were you afraid of finally having something real and you being the reason to lose it all? Mason leaned down kissed the inner corner of your mouth, and pulled away. Joining your families who were celebrating Christmas Eve.
hi!!!! so ik i’m super late to this fic i last posted i’ve been just so busy. i rarely check this account anymore, idk when yet i’m going to post this but it will be, so here’s a small part of it 😕 here’s the first part of the fic!
“So am I Y/n! I’m hurting too!” Mason’s voice cracking holding back his tears but they betray him. Mason walks towards you when you laugh sarcastically. “You’re hurting? How are you hurting when we’re in this mess because of you, Mason! Yeah, don’t bullshit me with the i’m hurt too.”
You wipe the tears away and pick your coat up, but Mason grips your arm. His brown eyes pooling with tears and for a second you almost stay. He shakes his head, his cheeks red and lips pursed in.
“If you leave, I won’t fight for you or us anymore… But if anything inside you , as small as it is, may hold you back from leaving because you still feel something for me, than stay,” he stated, not a hint of joking around.
You look at him stunned, almost in denial as he suggests such a thing. But Mason wasn’t stupid either, because you hadn’t move a inch, he knew you were hesitant and that put a relief in his heart. But he wasn’t also going to waste his time if in the end you wouldn’t be able to trust him or love him again.
“If you’re done like you claim to be then let me know now. I won’t fight or stop you from what you want as much as it will hurt…”
summary: after a fight with Mason digs up memories she'd rather forget, Y/N is left to deal with trauma from her past and decide if she will let Mason in
pairing: Mason Mount x reader
word count: 5.1k
warnings/tags: angst, hurt/comfort, couple fight, !! in-depth description of childhood trauma !!, lack of communication, supportive Mase, everything will eventually be okay-- you all know I can't write a sad ending, not proofread (I'm so sorry)
requested: yes!! here
notes: back with another request!!! This one has been sitting in my inbox for a LONG time!! I've had the draft halfway written for SO long, but couldn't decide how to finish it until I was struck with a bit of inspiration earlier this week! I hope you all enjoy it!!
You rested your elbow on the counter, forehead placed in the palm of your hand as you used the other to scroll and click through the numerous emails in your inbox. You had a big deadline coming up for your work, and it seemed that the brunt of the responsibility for it had fallen unexpectedly on your shoulders. As a result, your coworkers were coming to you with all of their questions, new emails popping up in your inbox every hour. So here you were, sitting at the bar in the kitchen, legs tucked under you as you continued to work even after arriving at home from a full day’s work.
Your boss had been on your case for a few weeks now for a reason unknown to you, which put you on edge each day that you went into work, nervous to step a toe out of line and be reprimanded, or worse, fired. You feared that this project could be the breaking point if it didn’t work out, which only added to your nervousness. You had never let a project like this fall apart before, but the anxious thoughts swirling around your mind convinced you that this would be the day that you failed.
You were just closing the browser to open a spreadsheet when you heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. You vaguely heard Mason call out into the house and the sound of his keys dropping into the bowl by the front door, too focused on your work to comprehend what he had actually said.
The nerves seemed to have settled in your chest like a heavy weight, pressing onto your diaphragm as your eyes flicked between the seemingly endless list of numbers and data on your screen. Your head was beginning to ache, and you imagined that this is what drowning would feel like.
You were pulled from your thoughts as two hands slipped around your waist as Mason pulled you tightly into his chest.
“How’s my baby?” Mason mumbled into your neck, pressing kisses to the skin there, and as much as you usually enjoyed being greeted this way, you were feeling overwhelmed by the sudden contact.
“ ’m okay,” you mumbled in reply, wiggling a bit to try to pull from his grasp, but Mason didn’t get the message, keeping your back pressed to his firm chest, continuing to place kisses on your neck and shoulders, his beard tickling your skin. “Mase, please…”
“What are you working on, sweetheart?” he mumbled softly, pressing his nose into your cheek.
“It’s just a thing for work. The deadline’s actually coming up pretty soon.” You tried prying his hands from your waist, beginning to feel suffocated, but Mason didn’t seem to notice. If he did, he ignored it. “So I really need to work on—”
“Come on, just give me five minutes,” he spun your chair toward him so he could see your face. Placing his hands on your cheeks, he began peppering kiss all over—your forehead, nose, cheeks, chin. “Haven’t seen you all day. I just wanna –”
“Mason please!” Something in you snapped and you pushed his hands away from you. “Why can’t you just leave me alone for two seconds! I’m trying to work! Can’t you see that?”
Mason stumbled back a couple of steps, caught off guard by your outburst. You never called him by his full name, and you certainly never shouted at him. A look of hurt washed over his face, the grin that had previously played on his lips falling into a frown, eyebrows drawn together, and you instantly regretted your words. You didn’t mean them, but you were overwhelmed and simply lost your cool.
“Mase, I’m sorry, I-“ You rose from your chair quickly to apologize to him, reaching a hand out toward him, but he was already halfway out of the kitchen by the time you could move in his direction. Your heart sank in your chest as you watched him round the corner, heading down the hallway.
You dropped yourself back into the chair, resting your head in your hands as your eyes began to sting with tears. If you thought you had felt miserable before, you had surely made it worse now. You cursed yourself for letting your stress get the better of you and letting your job come between you and Mason. The despair that you felt sat on your ribcage like a weight as a few tears slipped down your cheeks.
You decided maybe it was best to give Mason a bit of space before you tried to apologize. You knew you had hurt his feelings. He often expressed to you that he feared being too clingy or smothering the other person in his relationships, but you had always reassured him that you loved it, finding solace in his presence and his touch. Until today, when you had snapped at him for doing the very thing you told him brought you peace.
It truly wasn’t that you didn’t want him to touch you. In fact, in this moment, there was nothing you wanted more. You were feeling overwhelmed and had failed to communicate that.
With slightly puffy eyes you wiped the tear streaks from your cheeks, pulling your computer in front of you, determined to finish the work you had laid out for you so that you could spend the rest of your evening making it up to Mason. That proved difficult, though, with anxious thoughts about your relationship swirling around your head, now contributing to the anxiety you felt over your job.
You felt things getting progressively worse—your heart speeding up, the shaking in your hands getting more intense, and you were having trouble concentrating at all.
After about a half an hour, you heard Mason’s soft footsteps as his sock-clad feet padded down the hallway. Your heart skipped a beat, trying to quickly collect your thoughts so you could articulate to him just how sorry you were for what you had said and how you had acted.
But as Mason turned the corner into the kitchen, it was clear he hadn’t come to talk to you, not even sparing you a glance as he walked over to the fridge. Your voice caught on the lump in your throat, surprised by his cold demeanor.
“M-Mase?”
Your call to him was left unanswered as opened the refrigerator door, bending down to grab a bottle of water from the shelf. He uncapped the bottle, taking a drink from it as he walked back out of the room without a word.
Your lower lip wobbled, and you felt the tears welling up in your eyes. You closed your computer, knowing that you were going to get nothing more done, dropping your head to rest on your forearms on the countertop. You tried to muffle the sobs that shook your body, not wanting to guilt Mason into comforting you. You got yourself into this situation and would have to figure out how to deal with it.
It took another half hour for you to calm yourself, your crying finally ceasing. You took a few minutes, trying to make it appear as though you hadn’t spent the last 30 minutes crying in the kitchen before you decided to “pull up your big girl pants” and go find Mason.
You walked slowly and reluctantly down the hallway, first checking in your shared bedroom and finding both it and the ensuite bathroom empty. As you walked back into the hallway, you heard a noise coming from Mason’s gaming room and decided that must be where you’d find him.
You knocked softly on the door to alert him to your presence before you pushed the door open slowly. Mason was facing to your left, looking at the TV where he was playing FIFA, and only the side of his face was visible to you. Once again, he didn’t look toward you, focusing on his game without so much as a glance in your direction.
You took a couple of steps toward him, playing with your fingers in front of you as you moved to a position where you knew he could at least see you out of the corner of his eye.
“M-Mase? Can w-we talk?” Your voice was shaky as you spoke, but you took a deep breath, determined not to cry again. “Please?”
You waited, but there was no response. The clear shakiness of your voice earned a brief glance in your direction, but nothing more.
“Mason?”
Nothing.
All at once, a wave of emotions and painful memories hit you, the silent treatment from Mason taking you back to a time in your life that you had resolved to leave in your past.
Before you could stop it, a sob left your lips, and you clasped a hand over your mouth to silence it, rushing out of the room. You closed the door a little more harshly than you had intended to, soft cries leaving your lips as you raced down the hallway to find somewhere—anywhere—where you could get some fresh air and breathe for a moment.
Before you could even think, you had rushed to the front door, slipping on the trainers you had left there and grabbing your keys. You were out the door quickly, fighting back tears as you turned the keys in the ignition. You weren’t sure where you were even going to go, you just needed to find somewhere to be alone.
*
Almost as soon as you had left him alone in his gaming room, Mason knew something was really off. The two of you had fought before, but you had never reacted to it the way you had when you ran out of the room.
He had resolved to give you the cold shoulder, feeling hurt by the way you had pushed him away so harshly. But his concern for you outweighed his need to get you to apologize. He hadn’t been able to keep himself from glancing in your direction when your voice shook as you spoke. You had never sounded so afraid to address him, and that simple fact was eating away at him. He had soon after turned off the console, wandering out of his gaming room in search of you.
The house was eerily quiet as he moved through the hallway, checking in each room that he passed to see if you were there. When he entered the kitchen, noticing your computer lying closed on the countertop, he furrowed his brows. After not finding you anywhere else in the house, he had been sure you would be back in the kitchen, working on whatever it was that had you so stressed out.
Your shoes and keys missing from the walkway told him you had left, and he felt his heart sink a little. He had been hoping to find you and work this out quickly, hating the way he felt when there was distance between the two of you.
After debating whether to text or call to check on you, Mason settled on a quick text, afraid of suffocating you further. He wandered into the kitchen, aimlessly rummaging through the fridge and the cabinets as he waited for you to reply. He was restless, checking the screen of his phone every few seconds to see if a text from you had popped up, but nothing came through.
It wasn’t long before he threw caution to the wind, dialing your number without caring if you would be frustrated with him. The nerves caused by your brief argument and not knowing where you were was causing his worry to spike and he couldn’t keep himself from calling.
The line rang for several long moments before the automated voice began telling him you were unavailable.
He hung up, blowing air out in frustration and tossing his phone onto the counter before he plopped down in one of the chairs at the countertop. For a few moments, he just stared at the chair you had been sitting in when he had first arrived home—the place you had been sitting when you’d shouted at him.
His heart clenched in his chest at the recent memory. You had never reacted that way to him before, and it bothered him more than he cared to admit. The negative thoughts began to swirl in his mind, feeling like a cloud of despair.
He felt small. He felt like he was overbearing. He worried that you had grown sick of him and simply didn’t want him around anymore.
As tears sprung to his eyes, Mason’s level-headed side began to prevail.
Yes, you had never reacted that way to him before, so that had to mean that something had triggered it.
Everything had been fine when he’d cuddled up to you in bed that morning, and he was equally as touchy and clingy as the two of you had gotten ready for the day, so something had to have changed between then and when he got home.
As he wracked his brain to remember what you had been saying before you’d snapped at him, he realized he couldn’t really recall what you’d told him. He hadn’t really been paying attention, he realized.
He dropped his head into his hands, elbows resting on the countertop, as the shame washed over him. Perhaps this all could’ve been avoided if he’s just paid attention to what you had been trying to tell him.
With another sigh, Mason picked his phone up from where he had tossed it on the counter, dialing your number again.
And again, he was met with no response.
*
You hadn’t actually gone far on your drive, only making it about 10 minutes before you pulled off into a mostly empty parking lot, parked at the back where it was the most deserted, and broke down into sobs.
You felt silly for crying so much about receiving the cold shoulder from your boyfriend, but it had brought up so many memories and feelings you had done your best to repress.
The environment you had grown up in was… less than inviting. In your house, children were treated as more of a nuisance than a blessing. You were made to feel that unless you were bringing some sort of value to others, you didn’t deserve anything. Love was something that had to be earned, not something unconditional that was shared between a parent and child.
Silent treatment was something that your mother had often used to signal that she was upset with you. From a very young age, longer than you can remember, when she would begin to ignore you when you spoke to her or tugged at the hem of her shirt to get her attention, it meant you had to scramble to find a way to earn her love.
So, seeing Mason doing the very same had taken you right back to that time. You had once again felt like a young child, scrambling to prove that you deserved the love of another.
Of course, you realized that there was no way for Mason to know this would have bothered you the way it did. He knew that your relationship with your parents was now non-existent because of the circumstances of your upbringing, but he didn’t know the full extent of what they had put you through. You hadn’t gathered the strength to tell him all of those details yet.
So you had done the only thing you could think of to do in that moment, and you ran away—something you most certainly regretted now. But you didn’t want Mason to feel guilty for making you cry when you knew you had been in the wrong, so you sat in that empty parking lot for as long as it took you to calm yourself down.
You allowed yourself to sit there and feel miserable on your own for a while, but you knew you’d have to go back to face Mason soon. You knew he was probably worried, but you had turned your phone off after his first call came through. You felt even more guilty as a result, but you had been unable to deal with reassuring him of your safety at that moment.
It was dark outside by the time you walked back in the front door, closing it behind you quietly. You slipped your shoes off, placed your keys in the bowl, and hesitated a moment in the entry.
The soft jingle of your keys had alerted Mason to your presence, and he practically jumped up from his seat at the counter where he had remained the entire time, feeling miserable as he tried to call you nearly every 30 minutes.
Mere seconds passed before Mason darted quickly around the corner to find you standing there, still about 10 feet away from him.
His stomach sank to his feet at the sight of your red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks. It was clear you had spent the entire time you were gone crying.
At the sight of him standing carefully at a distance, the feeling of guilt overwhelmed you, and tears sprung to your eyes.
“M-Mase, I’m so sorry, I-“ you stumbled over your words, the first tears spilling down your cheeks. “I shouldn’t have-“
“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” Mason was standing in front of you in an instant, cradling your face with his hands. His thumbs swiped over your cheeks, wiping away the tears that had fallen. “It’s okay, don’t worry. You-“
“No,” you asserted, shaking your head as you held onto his forearms to steady yourself. “No, it’s not okay, please let me apologize.”
Mason’s heart squeezed as you gazed up at him with wide eyes, and he could tell you were trying to stop your lower lip from quivering, but to no avail.
You took a deep breath, in through your nose and blowing the air out slowly through your mouth to try to gather yourself, wanting to be sure that you remembered every part of the apology that you had mentally composed on your way home.
“Mase, I’m so sorry for snapping at you,” you looked up at his face as you spoke, watching as he drew his brows together with a sad expression on his face. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did, and I shouldn’t have shouted. Work has been awful these last couple of weeks, and my boss has been giving me absolute hell. I think it all just built up.”
Mason nodded at you, and you could tell from his soft expression that he understood what you were saying.
You continued, “It’s not an excuse, I just want you to know that it wasn’t you that was bothering me. I just unfairly took my bad day out on you. I don’t feel like you’re too much—ever—I just… I needed a bit of space, and I should’ve just told you that.”
You could see his face physically relax as the relief washed over him, and you felt even more guilty knowing he had been sitting with those thoughts of self-doubt ever since you had left.
“I’m really sorry,” you finished with a whisper as Mason brushed his thumb softly over your bottom lip.
Without warning, Mason pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, making you feel completely enveloped by him—and the feeling was the greatest relief you could ever remember feeling. He buried his face in your neck, and you could feel a couple of warm tears against your skin.
The two of you stood there in the entryway, clinging onto each other like you’d vanish into thin air if you let go. Mason’s hot breath fanned against your neck, and you closed your eyes, drinking in the feeling of being so close to him.
“Thank you,” Mason whispered after a few moments. “Thank you for talking to me.”
You squeezed him in response.
“And I’m sorry for being so childish,” he pulled his face back, still holding you in his arms. “I shouldn’t have just ignored you like that. I should have told you how I was feeling, too.”
You brought your hand up to cradle his cheek, pressing a smile to your lips despite the your eyes still being wet with tears.
“It’s okay, Mase, you couldn’t…” you hesitated for a moment, struggling with the idea of opening that part of yourself up to him. But you knew it was a conversation that was well overdue, so you pushed out of your comfort zone. “You couldn’t have known that it would bother me so much.”
Mason remain quiet, turning his head to place a gentle kiss on the skin of your palm, sensing that you had more to say.
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Um… so y-you know that my relationship with my parents really fell apart after I was able to move out, and… um…”
You hesitated, feeling frustrated with yourself for struggling to open yourself up. Here Mason stood—the perfect boyfriend, really. He had never judged you for any of your struggles or for anything from your past. He had been nothing but supportive and compassionate since you had first met him. Despite all of this, those nagging thoughts that you weren’t deserving of it all would persist no matter how hard you tried to push them away.
As Mason realized that this was becoming a conversation that would likely require a lot of time, he pulled away from you slightly, taking both of your hands in his as he led you to the living room. He sat down on the couch, opening his arms up to you so you could sit however you felt most comfortable, wanting to put your troubled mind at ease however he could.
Feeling a desperate need to remain close to him, you wound up placing yourself on Mason’s lap, facing him with your knees settled on either side of his hips. Your arm naturally found their place wrapped loosely around his neck, and he placed his hands on your hips, alternating between brushing his thumbs against your waist and rubbing his hands over your thighs.
You took a minute to compose yourself again, staring at the front of Mason’s t-shirt as you didn’t feel confident enough to look him in the eye. Mason remained quiet, continuing his gentle pattern over your legs as he allowed you to have that moment. He could tell that there was a lot weighing on you, even beyond the stress that your job had been causing you.
When you were able to gather your thoughts, you began speaking softly, and you told Mason everything.
You told him about your childhood and the nature of the relationships you’d had with your parents. You told him about the sudden changes in your mother’s disposition and how she would be happy one moment and hateful toward you the next. You explained your long history with the “silent treatment” and how you now realized that was a trigger for you. You were honest with him about the uncertainty that you felt about yourself and about your relationships as a result of this kind of upbringing.
“My mother, she… actually reached out to me last week,” you mumbled. By the time you had finished recounting your life story to Mason, you had cast your eyes down to your lap where you were playing with your fingers, unable to bring yourself to look at his face. “It’s the first time she’s done that since I left home years ago. I don’t really feel like I’m ready to reply to her yet, but I think it’s just dug up a lot of feeling and memories that I tried to bury for so long.”
Mason’s silence as you stopped speaking only made you more nervous. Hesitantly, you looked up to his face, but the pity you expected to find in his eyes was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, Mason had a look of pure admiration in his eyes.
“Please say something, Mase.”
He brought his hand up to your cheek, brushing your skin gently as he gave you a tearful smile.
“You’re so incredibly strong, Y/N.”
His reply took you by surprise, as, for seemingly the hundredth time that night, tears spring to your eyes.
“Really?” your voice shook as you spoke.
He nodded. “You went through all of that, and you’re still the kindest soul I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing.”
You couldn’t stop the sob that left your lips as you fell forward into Mason, tucking yourself into his chest. His arms immediately were wrapped around your body, your shoulders shaking as you cried into his neck.
You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there. Your cries eventually diminished into soft sniffles as you remained with your face tucked into Mason’s neck. He slowly trailed his fingers over your back, rubbing soothing shapes and patterns, and after all of the crying and how emotionally drained you felt after reliving the trauma of your past, you felt like you could fall asleep right there.
When you had finally settled a bit more, Mason enveloped you in his arms again, squeezing you gently as he pressed a kiss into your hair.
“Thank you, Y/N,” his voice was no higher than a whisper. “Thank you for telling me all of that.”
Lacking the energy to reply in that moment, you shifted slightly so that you could place a kiss on his collarbone in a silent thanks for listening and understanding you on a level that no one else ever had.
You sat there for a while, allowing yourself to just relax into your boyfriend’s body as he held you. As you rested there, you knew that there was nowhere else in the world that you’d rather be.
Feeling your muscles soften and noticing that your eyes had slipped closed, Mason knew you would soon fall asleep and decided that the two of you should go on up to bed.
He shifted you off of his lap gently, trying to disturb your peace as little as possible. He stood, bending over to pick you up from the couch, and carried you bridal style toward the stairs and up into your shared bedroom.
He took you into the ensuite bathroom and placed you gently on the counter. After grabbing the skincare products he had observed you using over the many nights that you had spent together, he set out, following your nighttime regimen as closely as he could remember. He took a couple of cotton pads, dampening them with your cleanser and swiping them over your cheeks, forehead, and nose. He pumped a bit of the moisturizer on his fingers and gently rubbed it into your skin. Your eyes slipped closed, and his soft touch nearly lulled you back to sleep, sitting there on the countertop.
Mason only left you alone for a moment as you brushed your teeth and he wandered into the bedroom. You could hear him moving around but didn’t have the energy to find out what he was doing. Just as you had finished rinsing out your mouth in the sink, he reappeared behind you, having changed into a loose pair of joggers and discarding his shirt, sliding his arms around your waist as you stood up straight.
You relaxed back into Mason’s touch, pressing your back into his bare chest and letting your head fall back onto his shoulder.
For a moment you stood there, drinking each other in. Mason swayed you gently back and forth as he pressed his cheek to the side of your head, his body radiating warmth from behind you. With your eyes closed, you focused on the feeling of him pressed up against you, arms holding you securely as the gentle pace of his swaying calmed the remainder of the racing thoughts in your mind.
Even with your eyes closed, you could feel the tears springing to them as you thought of how thankful you were to have Mason in your life—how thankful you were that he was your person. You had always known that he was someone special, even from the first moment that you met him. But now, having explained to him the entirety of your childhood and all of the difficulties that came with it, you just felt that much close to him and that much more appreciative if who Mason was.
Kind, forgiving, understanding, gentle—you could have gone on for the rest of the night listing all of the characteristics that made Mason the most perfect man you’d even known.
You twisted in Mason’s hold, tucking your face into his neck so he wouldn’t see the tears spilling over once again. You folded your arms between your bodies as he held you close, allowing him to completely envelop you in his hold.
After another moment, Mason placed a gentle kiss to your temple. “Come on, love. Let’s get to bed.”
You nodded, shivering from the cold as he unwrapped his arms from you.
You followed him back into the bedroom, noticing that the sheets had been pulled back, the pillows arranged just how you liked them, and the shirt that Mason had previously been wearing just before was folded on your side of the bed. Your heart warmed at the small acts of service Mason had done for you.
After you’d undressed yourself, slipping Mason’s t-shirt over your head, you crawled into the bed and placed yourself right next to Mason, who was now clad in only his boxers. He pulled the sheets and the duvet up, tucking them over your bodies before he lay down and pulled you into his arms.
With Mason’s arm wrapped around your body, you lay with your head on his bare chest, listening to the soft and steady beating of his heart. It only took a few seconds of you laying there before Mason had slipped his hand under the hem of your shirt, trailing his fingers over your back and reveling in the feel of your skin against his. Your legs were tangled under the sheets as the two of you lay in silence, content to be completely wrapped up in one another.
The silence was only broken as you whispered into the night air a few moments later. “Thank you, Mase. For everything.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his chest.
“Anything for you, my love,” he replied softly, squeezing your shoulders. “Anything at all.”
Summary: Mason would do anything to be with you, even get down on his knees and beg for it.
Pairing: Mason Mount x Fem!Reader
Requested: Nope
Song Inspo: Please Don't Go Home Yet - Stephen Sanchez
Warnings: angst, toxic situationship, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart...), suggestive themes and like a couple of lines that are smut-ish, begging, insecure about love, conflict but with resolution
Notes: so this was originally going to be smut but i didn't feel like it would be appropriate, idk, i'll save some of those themes/topics for another 🤭, i'm not the most confident about this one but only because i haven't written just angst in a long time, i'm mainly a smut writer now. feedback is always appreciated
A sigh left your lips as Mason peered through your bedroom window, a lopsided smile pinching the corners of his mouth. "Open up!" He shouts, but the thick pane of glass between you muffled his voice. He points to the handle, shouting, "open up," one more time. Another sigh passes your lips as you reach for the handle, already feeling the regret you would feel before the sun has a chance to rise. "Hi," he says, his voice now clear to you with the window now open, "aren't you going to let me in?"
"No."
"Come on, love-"
"Mason, it's the middle of the night," you stress, tightening your hand around the handle, readying yourself to pull it shut, "go home!"
"Maybe I should remember that the next time you want to see me in the middle night," he fires back, bitterness bubbling on his tongue as he speaks back to you. He checks over his shoulder when he hears a noise coming from hedges but looks back at you after seeing a cat dart between yours and your neighbour's gardens. "Come on," he tries once more, "let me in."
Your hand remains the handle. "Why should I?"
"Because it's been weeks, y/n," he replies, his voice quieting as the features of his face grow softer. He searches your eyes for a part of you that isn't cold, a part of you that might be happy to see him, but there's nothing there. "I need you."
"You have others."
"But none that are like you."
You bite your bottom lip, gnawing at the soft flesh, and Mason has to stop himself from reaching to stop you. "Not even Jessica?" You drop your hand onto the windowsill, leaning forward to meet him outside your window. "I'm sure she would be thrilled to know you're here at my window and not at hers."
He pinches the bridge of his nose, a harsh sigh of frustration falling off his lips. "How many times do I have to tell you that she came onto me?"
"Then why did you leave with her?"
His lips press together in a thin line. "Who told you that?"
You refuse to answer. There was no need to drag another person into the mess you had been creating these last few months. A one-night stand with a friend of a friend had turned into months of pining for Mason, but months of hooking up when it suited you best.
Falling in love is scary when you're afraid of heights. It's the biggest fall of them all. So you control the situation. Refuse to see him when he wants to see you, deny his calls and stop replying to his messages the second his romantic words start to tug at your heartstrings, only to pick back up from where you left off a week later. And Mason would come running back to you every time.
You would rather hurt him than risk the possibility of love and happiness.
"It's freezing, okay," Mason whines, stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets, "and if I stay out here any longer, I think my balls might drop off."
"Then go back to your car-"
"I took an Uber here."
"Go to the front door," you sigh, reaching to pull the window shut.
"Or you just let me climb through your window?" A grin pinches the corners of his mouth. "Come on, it'll be a lot easier."
You raise your eyebrow, eying him suspiciously for any sign of intoxication. "Are you drunk?"
He looks at you, offended by your assumption. "What? No!" You take a few steps back, arms folding across your chest, and watch him successfully manoeuvre his way in through your window. You'd never had someone sneak into your bedroom like this before and you had to ignore the thrill you felt. "Why would you ask me that?"
"Because if you think climbing through my bedroom window at god knows what hour in the morning is easier than just using the front door, then you better be drunk."
"Or," he takes a second to dust his hands down the front of his shorts before finishing, "I just don't want to run the risk of having to deal with your roommate."
You frown. "Niamh wouldn't hurt a fly."
"I wasn't talking about Niamh."
You wanted to say something nice about your other roommate, Lily, to come to her defense, but you couldn't help but agree with him. Lily was incredibly honest about everything and the first time she met Mason, she told him she thought he lacked intelligence and his career was one of little importance. Could you and Lily ever be friends? Probably not. But you and Niamh had a spare room, rent to pay, and your part-time jobs only could cover so much of it.
Being a student was hard.
"Besides," Mason pulls you out of your thoughts, "you're on the ground floor."
"I've watched you play," you snort, rolling your eyes, "I've seen you take a fall to the floor because of a flick."
"That's just for show, innit."
You turn your back to him, the screen of your laptop and bedside lamp still illuminating your otherwise dark room. "I hope you know I only let you in so you had somewhere warm to wait." You walk over to your bed, one hand sinking into the mattress as you reach across to close your laptop; the last of your reading could be finished in the morning. "You're not staying, Mason. I want you gone before Niamh or Lily hear you."
"I'm not going anywhere." His eyes drag down your body as you snap back around to face him. Your legs were bare and your upper half was covered by one of his shirts. "Cute top," he utters, nodding in your direction, "I think I have one just like it, except mine has this little hole on the left sleeve." He stops in front of you, his fingers brushing purposely against your arm as he reaches out to touch the left sleeve, his thumb running against the small hole. "It looks better on you anyway."
He looks down from your eyes to your lips, studying their shape, the curve of your cupid bow, wondering if they were still as soft as they were the last time he kissed you. He dips his head but forces himself not to kiss you, no matter how hungry he is for you. Instead, he just presses his forehead against yours, resting it there, with his eyes closed, and enjoys the close proximity to you.
"Mason-"
"I did sleep with Jessica," he confesses, his breath drifting down your face and neck as he sighs, "but not because I thought she was attractive or anything like that, I wanted to see if I could move on from you."
You take a deep breath and swallow the jealousy that was brewing inside. "And can you?" You peek up at him through your eyelashes to find him gazing back at you. "Can you move on from me?"
He cradles your head in his hands, holding you still as he pulls back to kiss your forehead. "I want to." His thumb brushes against your cheek, memorising its softness. He treated every interaction with you like it was his last one.
"You should try harder."
"You think I haven't tried?" He growled, pulling back to look at you. There's no trying to hide the pain in his eyes. "Every time I think I'm ready to move on, you appear out of nowhere, and I come crawling back to you like some lost love-sick puppy!"
"Would you keep your voice down?" You stress, taking his wrists and pulling his hands down to his sides. You walk over to your door and shut it the rest of the way. "I don't need another bollocking from them two because you showed up here unannounced, might I add, in the middle of the fucking night."
"Unannounced?" He places his hands on his hips, whispering, "oh my," under his breath. "What? Do I have to make a-a fucking appointment to see you or something?" You roll your eyes, unamused by his use of sarcasm. "I haven't seen or heard from you in two weeks! I had no choice but to resort to desperate measures."
You fold your arms defensively across your chest. "I think you need to leave."
Shaking his head, he brings his hands to cradle your face once more as he closes the gap between you. His heart hammers inside his chest, the blood thumping loudly in his ears; this was now or never for him. "Me and you, I know we can make this work," he pleads, finding your eyes in the dim lighting.
"Mason, I can't do this right now," you avoid his eyes, staring at his chin.
"Then when? Tomorrow? Maybe the next day? Or perhaps the day after that?" He tilts your head back, leaving you with no option but to look at him. "Don't you see how much this hurts me?" He closed his eyes, hiding the tears that glossed them, and rested his head against yours. "Why can't you just pick me?" He chokes on the lump in his throat.
You push him away before you can let yourself melt into him. "You wouldn't understand."
"Because you won't give me a chance to understand!"
You lunge forward and clamp your hand over his mouth. "What did I just tell you?" Your eyes flick up to the ceiling and then back down at Mason, whose eyes have never left you. "I won't tell you again."
"And I don't care if they hear me," he hisses, curling his hand around the side of your neck, fingers caressing you, "let me stay, please? We don't- I need you, baby!" He sighs at your lack of reaction. "You need me to beg, is that it?" He brings his face closer to yours, his breath hitting your ear as he whispers, "I know you like it when I beg for it."
"No, I don't," you pull away, disagreeing with him.
"You think I'm dumb, princess?" You're compelled to act dumb and shake your head like you had no idea what he was talking about. "Think I haven't noticed how you need to be in control over every aspect of your life? Including us?" He moves the hand around your neck up onto your jaw, pushing his thumb against your bottom lip, pulling it and watching it fall back into place. "You want me, I know you do," his voice was low and husky, "and I know how to prove it."
He lowers himself to his knees, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs, fingers pressing hard enough into your skin for it to sting. His name comes out in a sigh as he leans in to leave a kiss on each of them, your body tingling like each kiss was a jolt of electricity passing through. You don't want to but you reach out and touch him, a soft gasp melting away the silence as you threaded one hand through his hair. He hums approvingly and leans his face against you, kissing your thighs again.
"Tell me you want this," he leans back, looking up at you in the dark, half of his face illuminated by the lamp, "tell me you've missed feeling my hands on your thighs. Tell me you've been thinking about my tongue on you, kissing you, biting these thighs." You grip his hair tighter, steading yourself as he lifts one leg over his shoulder, and turns to graze his teeth on the inner of your thigh, tongue gliding over the spot to soothe any pain. "Tell me you missed having my hands under your shirt," one hand disappears and Mason groans as he moulds his hand around your breast, "grabbing these perfect tits."
You whimper as he rolls your nipple between his finger and thumb, the nub pebbling under his rough touch. "Keep doing that," you arch your back and pull on his hair. You couldn't begin to put into words how much you had missed his touch.
"I will, baby," he nods, placing another kiss on your thigh, "I'll do anything you want- I'll be your good boy, but I need you to say it." He drags his hand away from your chest, leaving it to linger on your belly. He ignores your demand when you tell him to put it back, hissing as you tug on his hair. "Please," he begs, blowing cool air against your panties, exposed to him as he pushes your shirt up. A faint grin tugs on the corners of his lips as he listens to you moan. "Come on, just say it!"
Just say it.
Say it!
"I can see it in your eyes, baby," he whispers, the expression in his eyes softening as they peered up at you, "please, just say it."
Put him out of his misery and just say it!
You stroke your hand down his face, your fingers touching along his jaw, your belly warming as he melts into your touch. He was starved of your touch, ravenous for just about anything. "Please, please, please," you whimper at how he whines for you, the neediness and the desperation so clearly in his voice, "can't you see what we can have together?" Your head was dizzy and his words had your heart thumping wildly in your chest. "Just say it," he encourages with another kiss, "I know you want to."
"Why are you doing this?" You question him, running your thumb over his chin.
"Because I like you and I know you like me too, and maybe you could just admit that to yourself if you just got out of your head!" He lifts and lowers your foot back down onto the carpet, separating the two of you, before rising to his feet with a broken sigh. You melt into his touch as his hand cradles your cheek, your eyes closing to enjoy the softness of his affection - affection that you weren't deserving of. "We could have a good thing, you and me," he says, searching your eyes as they look up at him, "so why are you so afraid to admit that?"
"I'm not afraid."
Yes, you are.
"You are!" Mason growled, a new kind of annoyance forming in his eyes. "I got down on my knees for you, I begged you to say it, I gave you the control you so desperately needed and you still couldn't say it! It's just three words, y/n-"
"But it's not just three words, Mason!" You raise your voice, snapping at him as you talk over him. His hand was long gone from your face, and the warmth his affection provided was now chilled by the coldness of your hardened exterior. "I have been afraid of heights my whole entire life," you mumble, nervously biting at your bottom lip, "and I don't think there's any greater height to fall from than love."
Your explanation was silly and you didn't expect him to understand.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do if there is no one there to catch me if I do fall," you finish, taking a seat on the edge of your bed, letting your head hang so you looked down at the floor and not at the pain on his face, "what would be the purpose of letting my walls break down if there's never anyone there to let in?"
Mason lingers for a moment, the shock of your admission sinking in, before snapping himself back to reality. "You don't have to worry about me not being there," he promises, hesitating at first and then sinking onto his knees in front of you. He hooks his fingers under your chin, lifting your head to get a better look at you. "I'll be there to catch you, princess," he nods, brushing his thumb gently across your cheek, collecting a tear, "I'll be there every single time."
"Even after all the mess I've created?" You sniffle, it didn't go unnoticed to you that you were undeserving of any of this. He produces a warm but small smile, his hand caressing your face. A soft chuckle leaves his lips as you nuzzle your face into his palm. "I don't deserve you," you mumble, cupping your hand around his.
"One or two people might have said that," he agrees, remembering previous conversations he's had with the likes of Woody and various members of his new club. Woody had told him he was crazy to keep going back, Jadon suggested he should just give up, and Luke had made a comment or two he would never repeat to you. "And maybe once or twice I would've agreed with them," he adds, "but I don't want to move on from you; I want to be with you. I want to fall in and out of love with you. I want us to have arguments over the silliest of things, and then make up by having mind-blowing sex. I want to take you home to meet my parents, hear my nieces call you their auntie, and tell my sister that I think I've found the one."
You closed your eyes and tried to picture the life Mason was already planning for you. Sunday dinners with his family. Playing dress-up and having tea parties with his nieces. Him showing you around his hometown, taking you to all his favourite spots, and sharing ice cream together. It all made you smile.
"It sounds nice," you whisper, opening your eyes.
"It can be if you allow it."
"I like you, Mason," you sit up, lowering his hand into your lap, your fingers fiddling with his, "but I don't know how to do this." You chew on the pad of your thumb, eyes casting down at your joined hands. He strokes his thumb lovingly against the backs of your fingers, an act so small but greatly calms you down. "I don't know where to start, or the right thing to say."
He releases your hand and cradles your face, cutely framing the sides in his large hands, his thumbs brushing against the apples of your cheeks. "Look at me," his eyes peered into yours, their rich earthy tones warm under the low lights, "you like me?"
You frown, "that's what you took away from that?"
"'m sorry," he chuckles, taking his hands away, holding them in the air as he comes to his defence, "I just really liked hearing you say it." He lowers them onto your lap, thumbs brushing against your bare thighs, smiling back at you as you roll your eyes. "Say it again-"
"Mason-"
"Please, baby," he begs, talking over the top of you. He holds up a single finger. "Just say it one more time."
You tilt your head to the side, a surprised laugh bursting from the deepest part of your throat. "Seriously?" He nods, eyes big and round as he produces his best puppy dog eyes for you. "Mason Tony Mount," you take a deep breath and place your hands on both of his shoulders as you move onto the very edge of your bed. He wraps his arms around your waist, preparing to catch you if you were to fall. You lean closer, resting your head against his, gazing into his eyes, letting them drift down to his lips. "I..."
"Go on," he whispers, laying his hands flat against the small of your back, his cheeks twitching as your arms looped around his neck, "say it." You try to close the gap, but you're left chasing his lips. "No," he rejects you, pushing his hands firmly against you, "say it."
"Promise to catch me when I fall?"
"Every time."
Taking a deep breath, you inhaled his warmth, his strength, and his reassurance to always be there to catch you if you fall and exhaled all your insecurities and every part of you that desired to run away. A wrecking ball had hit the walls you had worked so hard to perfect, and Mason had stepped through the hole it left behind.
This was no longer a height you were scared of.
"I like you, Mason," you whisper out into the gap that remains between you. This confession was just for him, it didn't need to be shared with the room's darkness that wrapped around you like a warm blanket. "I like you so goddamn much," you mumble, raking your fingers through his hair, teasing out a gasp as you gave the short strands a soft tug, "and I'm sorry."
Mason frowns, "for what?"
"For hurting you."
He moves one hand from your back, bringing it up to touch the nape of your neck. "I'm not hurting anymore," he whispers just before your mouths collide.
The kiss is exploratory at first. Gentle and intentional. It isn't until his hands are gripping your hips hard that you realise how heated the kiss was becoming - teeth tugging on bottom lips, tongues tangling together, hands pulling at each other's bodies. You pull apart before you can pull him onto the bed, chests rising and falling at a quick pace as you both try to catch your breaths, your eyes still closed, both completely lost in the moment.
This.
This is what you wanted.
"Stay?"
It sounded more like a command than a question, but Mason nodded without saying another word. He removes his hoodie as he stands, and you reach out to touch him, your hands landing on his hips, your lips brushing against the middle of his stomach. He lets out a soft sigh, hooking his fingers under your chin and tilting your head back to look up at him.
"We can take this as fast or as slow as you want it, okay?" You nod, grateful he wasn't expecting you to dive straight into the deep end of this newly forming relationship. "No more running away, no more under-appreciating each other," he says, setting out some basic rules for the both of you, but mainly just for you, "if you stay open and honest with me, then I promise to always be there to catch you."
