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𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐈 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐞:

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The more I read the more I’ll add!!

kepa arrizabalaga  |  burnley v chelsea

two dads and their little son <3

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍’𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄!

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

summary: in which mason is definitely not in love with you and definitely will not have a go at the player who knocked you over!

masterlist.

mason mount x fem!reader

mason mount x footballer!reader

warnings: fluff, minor injury detail, swearing, small argument, minor threat, angry mase and first time writing for my best guy😬

word count: 2K+

notes: in this fic, boys and girls can play in the same match because i said so. you and mase are both in chelsea and play along side each other :)

don’t steal any of my work, thanks!

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𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍’𝐒 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 holes into the side of your head, watching your every move precisely. His head was tilted, sat in the palm of his hands and slouched over; comfortably leant forwards on the benches in the changing room. He watched you tie up your laces, tightening them in preparation for the game, while his were discarded beside his bag the moment you walked in.

A soft smile was drawn on his face, cheeks tinted a pale pink and eyes practically in shapes of hearts. He admired the blue kit hugging your body, the colour suiting you more than anyone else. His eyes softened at the sight of your hair down, locks tumbling down your shoulders and curling naturally and the ends. It was a rare sight to see you with your hair not in and uptight ponytail with small strands of hair poking out; you looked absolutely beautiful either way.

You stumbled back after tying the lace enough, dumping remaining spare kit on your masses of branded items. You reached for the hairbands at the bottom of your bag, rummaging through the clothes in a hurry after leaving late and clearly not ready. A heavy sigh left your mouth when you realised you forgot to pack your hairbands, knowing you’d have to resort to the ‘hairbands’ they provide, or what we call: rubber bands.

Mason smiled when he saw your frustration in forgetting the one thing you need, twiddling with the spare hairband he always brought for your backup; even if you had no clue. The ones his mother claimed were the best for you hair, apparently not damaging it as much, like he knew what that means! Long story short, he bought about five packs of them just for you, for when you’d forget in a moment like this.

“Does anyone have a spare hairband?” You called to everyone in the changing room, hearing many grumbles in response and the remaining girls claiming they’ve got the only one already in their perfectly done up hair.

Mason quickly stuffed the hairband into the palm of his hand, turning around to rummage through his bag to act like he was looking; unknowingly to you, he already has it in his hand. After a few seconds of fake rummaging, his lifted his hand in the air with the band between his fingers and called out your name.

He watched as you quickly rushed over, eyes widened at the object you desperately needed. You skipped over to him with a beaming smile on your face, the one he loved dearly.

“Mason, you’re a lifesaver!” You laughed as he slid the band into your hand, fingertips brushing and lingering there for a little longer. He smiled up at you and shrugged his shoulders. “No big deal, honestly.”

You chuckled, shaking your head and looking down, eyes reluctantly pulling away from his. You pulled your hair back into a ponytail and roughly tied it up, “Thank you, Mase.” His heart fluttered at the nickname. “I’ll give it back to you at the end of the game, maybe.” He laughed and waved you off and you jogged out to practice.

“Shh! We wouldn’t want to wake Mason from his trance!” He heard the snickers of Ben and Kai near him, laughing and slapping each other forearms staring at his love sickened trance.

“Piss off, mate!” Mason yelled to the two, some fellow team members hearing the whole ordeal and laughing quietly at the man. Ben skipped over to Mason, Kai following hastily behind him and sitting himself on the other side of Mason, sandwiching him in the middle.

“So you told her you’re in the love with her yet?” Kai nudged his friend, smirking at his blushing cheeks. Mason shoved him back lightly, standing up and running his hands through his hair. “What? I’m not- I’m not in love with her!”

“Yeah, giving her a hairband is a real declaration of love isn’t it?” Ben stood up and ruffled Mason’s hair, teasing him and winking to Kai.

“Why don’t you just take her out for drinks tonight, claim it’s a celebration for winning this game then swoop in and kiss her! Easy just sorted out the story you’re gunna say at your wedding!” Ben clapped, applauding himself for coming up with the master plan on how Mason would score the love of his life.

Mason’s brows furrowed, “We haven’t even won the game yet, how would I take her out if we lost?” shaking his head at his friend. Ben shrugged, “Mate, of course we’re gunna win!”

“How do you know that?” Mason turned his body to Ben, shoulders tensed. Kai jumped on his back, arms wrapped around his neck and sung in a love stricken voice: “Because we have the power of love!”

Mason pushed Kai off him, laughing and whining at his best friends antics and slid out the changing room door onto the pitch, hearing the cackles and high fives from his stupid, stupid friends.

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𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 64 minutes can really take a toll on some people, only indulging on a small break at the half way mark but instantly coming back on the pitch to pick up right where they left off. Unfortunately for you, you were against the moodiest guy you’ve ever came across, and trust me; there have been a lot.

The guy had caused you so many fouls in the first half alone, a lot ignored and little picked up on. Not only was his double your height, he was a menace with kicking his legs everywhere but the ball; your shins, your calf, anywhere near the lower region had been whacked multiple times guaranteed.

You had come off at half time, instantly rushing off with a scowl etched on your face. Mason watched you run off, ignoring the protests of the team and running to your duty. He listened to you rant about the stupid donny next to you, stress dripping from you whenever you mentioned how he’d push you further from the goal anytime you got within reach to it. Mason nodded along, holding your hands in the process. He promised that as soon as the next half started, he’d keep a close eye on you, a side glare permanently on the man and a referee in close contact; and of course his aid when his pushes got a little too tough.

And here he was, a side glance towards your way and he saw you slowly take steps away from the tall frame next to you. His heart pumped everytime the ball got to you, rushing to assist you while watching out for fouls.

You dribbled the ball towards the goal, extremely aware of the fact that the man was hot on your tail, breathing up your neck as you sprinted out of his way. Your eyes darted everywhere, looking for some to pass to. Mason was in clear view and with space around him, the goal right there. Just as you were about to kick the ball for him to score, a hard shove sent you flying forwards and landing harshly onto the grass.

You landed straight on your right shoulder, feeling it pop under the fall. As you rolled onto your back, you felt the shoulder blade scratch against the bone or injury you clearly picked up. It killed, it hurt more than you expected. Stabbing pains were shooting from your collarbone to the tips of your fingers as the limb began to fall numb, shaking profusely out of immense pain.

The man didn’t care to hear the crowd gasp at the yell that slipped from your throat from the fall, he calmly kicked the ball you previously owned and kicked it towards his teammates, kicking the side of your stomach in the process.

The crowd was in hysterics, yelling and booing to the man and crying out for medial attention to you; the player who was obviously, severely injured.

Mason’s heart stopped when he saw you fall, watching your arm crunch under the pressure and gasp from the kick to the stomach. He instantly ditched everyone and his perfect spot for a goal and sprinted to you, dropped to his knees before you.

“Hey, Hey, Hey.” He tapped your pale face, tears streaming down them and eyes clenched shut. His shaking hands brushed the sweaty hair from your forehead, mud smearing your skin. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He whispered, lips brushing against your good hand as he held onto it, kissing your knuckles repeatedly.

A cry fell from your lips, “It hurts so bad!” Mason nodded, tears forming at your distressed state. He couldn’t do anything to help you, only hold you and protect you. “I know, I know it hurts baby, but you just got hold on. The medical guys are coming right now, I promise baby.” His voice broke when the more painful screams erupted from your lips.

Medical attention rushed from the other end of the pitch, a stretcher in their hands many men swearing into their walkies. They picked up your crying body and lifted you off the pitch, arm slipping from Mason’s hold and out of his sight; the crowd cheering for you as you got the help you needed.

Mason turned slowly towards the player who knocked you over, heavy steps up to him and anger coasting through his veins. Mason shoved the asshole forwards, letting his long legs stumble and turn around with a scowl look on his disgusting face.

“What the fuck was that for?” He yelled, getting up in Mason’s face and hot breath bouncing off the close contact.

“You know what the was for, you hurt my girl!” He yelled in his face, a referee running to spilt the two up and teammates dragging Mason back. “You try that shit again, I’ll fucking punch you this time man!”

Mason let out a guttering laugh when he saw the guy get given a red card, only shrugging off the yellow as he saw his (now) worst enemy trudge off the pitch with cheers and thousands of laughter at his departure.

Ben jogged up behind Mason, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. “Still aren’t in love with her?”

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“𝐒𝐎 𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃 you caused an argument on a pitch.” You laughed into the salad Mason had made you, arm situated in a cast with a big red heart drawn on it, with Mason’s name inside it.

“I just gave the ass a piece of my mind.” Mason smirked into his drink, cuddled into you and your head was on his chest; sat up on his sofa.

“Chilly said there was nearly a fight on the pitch.”

“Okay, maybe I threatened a friend or two.” He rolled his eyes at Ben’s statement, clearly telling you every little detail of what happened the moment you left the pitch to the minute they left the stadium.

You sat up slightly, placing down the salad and turning to face Mason. “Ben also told me that you referred to me as ‘my girl’” You blushed, lip inbetween your teeth and heart thumping.

Mason’s eyes widened, “What? No! No-No I didn’t! Where did he get that from-“

“It’s all over the internet.” You interrupted him. Laughing as he groaned and let his head fall onto the back of the sofa, hand running down his face and cheeks glowing a crimson red.

He lifted his head up, eyes meeting yours and flickering to your plump lips. He leaned forwards, chest to chest, and feeling each other’s body heat. A hand slid up your body, feeling you so intimately yet innocent and it made its way up to your face, holding you so delicately. You fell into his touch, head tilted into the hand placed upon your warms cheeks. You hands slid into his hair, brushing the front strands back so you could admire his beautiful face. He couldn’t handle the tension any longer, he leant forwards and smashed his lips onto yours.

His grips tightened and hooked the other hand under your thigh, bringing you onto his lap. He groaned into your mouth as you tugged onto his hair, pulling at the roots and causing his to kiss you harder. One of his hands soothing the skin of your thigh and the other running his thumb up and down your cheekbone, mesmerised by each and everyone of your blemishes; though he would think you had none. You pulled away and rested your head against his, heaving breaths and pulling each other closer; muttering unspoken ‘i love you’s’ and pent up feelings.

It’s safe the say that Ben won the bet that night, earning a good £20 from Kai as he knew the injury would cause him to act up. And as he said, it was a story for the wedding, just a different version that he still totally took credit for. Because at the end of the day, he was right: Mason’s in love!

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hope you enjoyed!! let me know if you want to be. tagged for future mason fics <3

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