tomsparkyr

TOMSPARKYR

mols ! || she/hermason mount’s gf <3masterlist is pinned & 18+ !

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Tomsparkyr - TOMSPARKYR

𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

summary: mason and y/n being in love on the pitch for 90 minutes plus. (and Tuchel being here for it)

masterlist.

mason mount x fem!reader

mason mount x footballer!reader

warnings: fluff, bitch talk from you and mount, just adorable-ness, i love reece james, an all around cute fic :)

word count: 1.1K+

notes: in this fic, boys and girls can play on the same pitch together without it being deemed dangerous, hope you enjoy!

don’t steal any of my work please, thanks!

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“𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌 thinking he’s the best captain in the world, strutting on the pitch, this isn’t a catwalk mate.” Mason mumbled in your ear, arms crossed and neck angled towards you as the two of youse eyes followed the poor captain of the opposing team, simply doing his job.

“Even I could be a better captain than him.” You squinted your eyes and grumbled the words, lips wetted as they were lodged into your tongue poking out your mouth; staring down each player that walked into the pitch. Waiting for the reaction when they realised which two star-players were on the pitch.

“I know, and that says a lot.” Mason nudged his elbow into your forearm, smirking but eyes still faced forwards. You slapped an arm his way, whacking his stomach as a reflex from his subtle dig at you, a joke at the little co-ordination you had to be an official captain.

Neither of you knew the cameras were settled directly on you, filming every little twitch of the eye lid when a new face entered the pitch; the bitchiness rubbing off you as a very obvious matter.

“And here we have people, is Mason Mount and Y/N Y/L/N appearing to have finished their warmup.” The commentators addressed.

“It seems the two of them,” They paused for a laugh, “Are not too fond of the team greeting Stamford Bridge.”

“They don’t look too happy, do they?” The studio chuckled at the faces of disgust painted on your features, you and Mason looking at each other with wide eyes and then you standing up on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear definitely about someone. “I would have to say, I wouldn’t be too happy either if I entered the pitch and I saw my opponents were Mount and Y/L/N!”

“They’re on a roll recently!”

“They’re on a roll all the time, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a drastic loss in the stadium whenever Y/N and Mason are playing together.” The commentators showered you in praise.

“I doubt Tuchel would want a loss this week and with the Final approaching fast, putting the two star players in is genius from him, I’d say.” The camera panned to Thomas, a grin slithered on his face watching the two of you smirk mischievously at players, knowing he taught you well and how he couldn’t keep you away from each other for longer than one minute. Maybe, this match might be the match Mason pulls his socks up and confesses his attraction towards you; Tuchel has had enough of hearing it, someone else can deal with him now.

“Anyway, after the short break: we’ll be back and kick off will begin. Chelsea vs Norwich. Who’s going to win?”

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“𝐈𝐅 𝐈 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐄 a hat-trick, you have to go out on a date with me.”

“What?” You stopped in your tracks, panting heavily as you followed Mason to the corner to celebrate his second goal. Your heart was beating heavily in your chest, did you hear that correctly? Did the man you’ve been pinning over since the moment he kicked that ball in your face and nearly broke your nose on the first day of training just ask you if you wanted to go out on a date? On a technicality aswell?

Mason grinned from one ear to the other, slowly pacing to the camera in preparation for his celebration he’d been planing with Reece James for weeks. “I said: If I score a hat-trick, you have to go out on a date with me.”

Okay, so maybe you did hear him correctly.

The words struggled to leave your lips, hands sweating and eyes blinking rapidly as you saw Reece lean over the stands with a large note crushed in his palm. “What? I-“

“I’ll take that as a yes then.” He bit his lip, whistling to Reece as took the signal and chucked the paper into Mason’s hands, his fingers unscrambling the paper and lifting it to the camera for his ‘celebration’.

The note read: ‘If I score a hat-trick, this lovely lady will go out on a date with me :) —>’ There was an arrow pointing in the direction you stood in, little hearts scattered on the sheet as the crowd at home and in the stadium could read it easily.

The stadium irrupted with cheers and hoots, hollers heard around the thousands of fans waving their flags in the air and hearts raised with their hands.

Your cheeks blushed and tint pink, Mason turning to see your beauty and quickly pecking the side of your head before running back to the pitch to score that final goal, 20 minutes to make his dreams come true.

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‘𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐓’𝐒 𝐀 hat-trick for Mason Mount!’

‘Wow, it’s unbelievable, honestly. This is the moment we’ve all waited for people, Mason’s celebration.’ The commentators went silent, leaning forwards in their seat as Mason jogged towards you.

Mason yanked your hand and dragged you to the corner, right in front of the endless amounts of screaming fans and phones filming the two of you; just knowing that the media would get a field day off this.

He grabbed your waist and brought you face to face, chests together and a beautiful smile plastered on both of youse faces. He shook his head at you, “How’s that date sound?”

You bumped noses with him, eyes closed and skin radiating heat as he was so close to you. “Dunno, that last goal was pure luck—“

You didn’t have time to finish before Mason smashed his lips onto yours and felt his heart become one. The fans went wild, even the opposing team cheered loudly. His tongue moulded with yours in the most PG way possible before parents would force their kids to look away from the screen.

His hand slid under your jersey and one fell to your leg, pushing you back slightly so you’d dip backwards, his form hovering only just above yours. It was a moment to remember, really. Like that moment the price finally gets the princess in the most cliché way possible, but still having the box of tissues beside yourself.

Your hands toyed with his hair, hearing the final whistle blow didn’t interrupt the two of you, it only egged you to have time to continue devouring each other for the first time. His cheeks were cold under your touch, obviously from running around in cold wind before hand, it all worth it as his 3-goals not only scored a winner for Chelsea, but a winner for his girl.

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“𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐋, 𝐖𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐃 there was meant to be a Mount and Y/L/N interview after the match, where are they?”

Thomas shook his head, “Nuh uh, we are not going to disturb them on their date—

I’ve waited too long to see the double trouble get together and standing here for 2 minutes is not going to stop that. I’ve gained too many wrinkles from their pinning, I can’t afford to earn more, the team themselves give me enough!”

ahh hope you liked :) not edited!

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Tomsparkyr - TOMSPARKYR

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