Birthday sex with John?
only one I’m writing today because I’m very uninspired but I figured this one should be out today!
and he’s slightly tipsy after coming back from a drink with the lads, his face tinted red and a wide grin as he sits himself on the couch, immediately grasping your thighs as you sit on his lap. And you’re teasingly shifting about, faces so close you can feel each other’s breath and he’s having absolutely none of it as he pulls you in by your neck, lips meeting in desperation and you’re pushing him back slightly with hands on his chest, undoing his jeans and disconnecting your lips. And you’re moving down, taking him all in, his cock hitting the back of your throat immediately as his head falls back and his eyes shut, breathy moans leaving his mouth as you work your magic. And soon he’s pulling you back up, reconnecting your lips as he works on your clothes now and he’s slipping inside of you as you moan into his mouth, gripping onto his hair and bouncing on his lap. And you’re both moaning into the air: each other’s names; decelerations of love; ‘this is just your first present, birthday boy’; ‘my god you’re wonderful’.
Drunk Stonsey based on the videos you reblogged 🤗😏
So as we all know well, he’s a happy, carefree mess when he’s drunk and obviously he’s wanting you to join him in everything he does so he’s pulling you up with him to dance and you’re giggling and embarrassed but oh so in love that you don’t even care and you’re letting him dance around you whilst everyone films it, and you’re letting him wrap his arms around your waist constantly, and you’re letting him leave sloppy kisses on your cheek, and you’re letting him whisper nonsense in your ear because how could you not with that goofy grin he has.
can we please get John eating you out... especially with that stubble 😍😍
that stubble my god
and he’s kissing up your thighs, nearing where you want him, stubble scratching at your skin as you lace your fingers through his hair, trying to pull him to the place he’s needed. And he’s smirking against your skin as his blue eyes connect straight with yours, head immediately dipping, licking and sucking on your clit, and you’re moaning, head thrown back in pleasure.
Write more of John and thins United photographer, what’s he replying to the text ?
Was thinking we could do something
And that’s how you ended up exploring the city with John. He took you to places you’ve never been - ‘paparazzi follow me sometimes: you learn where to go’ - and treated you to food you’ve never eaten - ‘got to spend my money on something, I’m glad it’s something as pretty as you’ with a cheeky wink thrown in for good measure. And at the end of the day he’s driving you home, your cheeks hurt from laughing so much and your eyes are bright with excitement and he’s walking you to your door, silence engulfing the pair of you as you stand, not quite knowing what to do. And he’s placing a lingering kiss on your cheek, leaving you with an ‘I’ll text you’, a longing stare and a desperate need to stop him from going.
you’re babysitting john’s daughter and he walks in while your just sat together singing disney songs so loud and he just realised how much he loves you
and you’re just sat on the sofa, belting the words to ‘you’re welcome’ from Moana along with the sound emitting from your phone as she draws on your arms, clumsily singing along as well. And you’re both giggling at each other and trying to sing louder than the other, waiting for John to come back with her tea. But he’s just been stood leaning on the door frame, watching his daughter gaze at you lovingly and smile so widely and laugh so innocently - his little family. And he loves how she wasn’t shy around you and he loves how you both get on and he loves her and you and soon the songs changing and he’s still stood; watching and in love.
do a drunk stonesy one x
and he’s getting handsy at the bar, you and him celebrating with Bernardo after winning the title again. His hands are firm on your waist as he leans from behind you to order two new drinks, nibbling on your ear as you both wait. And you’re laughing at him and his glassy eyes and wandering hands, wide smile plastered over his face and eyes alight with love and triumph as he stumbles forward to retrieve your drinks, pulling you behind him to the table. And it’s a night of laughing so much you’re cheeks hurt by the end of it, John drunkingly dancing about - fortnite dances to your dismay - occasionally tugging you up with him and sloppily kissing your neck.
can you please do needy kisses and neck kisses with stonesy i love your writing x
and he’s latched onto your neck the minute he’s got back from training, arms around your waist, hand caressing the side of your face and your tilting you head, giving him more access, moaning at the loss of contact when he pulls away. But you’re quickly resatisfied as he latched onto your lips, softly biting on the lower, tongue nudging through. And he’s putting everything into this kiss - clearly he’s missed you during the day. And he’s reattaching to your neck again, sucking harshly on the skin and kissing it to soothe and you’re running your hand up through his hair, eyes closing as he works his way down to you chest, nipping away at the skin.
John accidentally telling you he wants you to have his babies one day while laying around having a lazy Sunday
you’re lying on the sofa, a crap Netflix film on, hot mug in one hand and playing with your sock in the other. And he’s sat next to you, eyes vaguely staring at the screen but definitely not watching and it’s out of nowhere that he says it, just a quiet muttering of ‘I can’t wait until where doing this as a family’ and you’re taken aback, thinking you’ve misheard at first because he’s never expressed that want with you before. But by the way he’s staring at you - all warm and content - you can tell it’s sincere so you’re smiling back, sock being forgotten, reaching for his hand and giving it a squeeze - ‘I’d like that too’
John asking you look after his daughter by yourself for the first time as he was ment to have her coz Mille is going on a girls weekend but he’s been called into training for a extra teasing sesh and he doesn’t want to let them down
And you’re petrified, expressing your concerns at how you’re even going to manage - ‘what do you mean, I’ve never looked after her by myself before, John, how am I meant to do that?!’ - and he’s having to reassure you you’ll be fine, because he knows you will be - ‘You’ll do fine, love, you’re great with her when you’re with me, it’s exactly the same’ and you’re questions whether Millie is fine with this because you wouldn’t want to upset her and of course she is, John said she trusts you to do it and he’s looking at you with pleading eyes, saying he wouldn’t leave you alone with her if he had another option, because he knows you’re apprehensive and you’re giving in because how could you let him down. And you’re having the best day with her, and he’s coming back to you with her sat on your lap at the kitchen table, finger painting flowers, and she’s giggling at everything you say and he adores the sight.
could you do a john stones one about the reader being a famous actress and john comes to surprise her on set after they’ve been away from each other for a while
I’m so sorry this took so long, I’ve been so busy with school x
You’re wrapping up your last scene of the day, a sigh escaping your lips as your tiredly make your way to your trailer. Obviously you loved your job but it was long hours a day - making you tired - and a lot of months a year - meaning you left behind all your life. That life involved John, and god you missed him when you went away. You made sure to text and call and FaceTime whenever you could but sometimes it just wasn’t enough, sometimes you wanted to be in his arms, you wanted to run onto the pitch to celebrate with him - not send him a text and wait for hours for his reply. So when you opened your trailer door and saw John - your John - sat - on your sofa - scrolling through his phone, you were in shock. And when he looked up at you with those blue eyes and smiled softly at you, opening his arms wide, you did not hesitate to run into them, nuzzling your head into his neck, engulfing his scent and revelling in his presence. And he’s muttering ‘I’ve missed you baby’ into your hair and you’re smiling widely into his skin and you were so glad that was the last scene of the day - the rest of it’s taken up.
Write more of John and thins United photographer, what’s he replying to the text ?
Was thinking we could do something
And that’s how you ended up exploring the city with John. He took you to places you’ve never been - ‘paparazzi follow me sometimes: you learn where to go’ - and treated you to food you’ve never eaten - ‘got to spend my money on something, I’m glad it’s something as pretty as you’ with a cheeky wink thrown in for good measure. And at the end of the day he’s driving you home, your cheeks hurt from laughing so much and your eyes are bright with excitement and he’s walking you to your door, silence engulfing the pair of you as you stand, not quite knowing what to do. And he’s placing a lingering kiss on your cheek, leaving you with an ‘I’ll text you’, a longing stare and a desperate need to stop him from going.
Could you please right some more John smut, your so good at writing omg!💗
thank you, anon
He’s joining you in the shower, allegedly as a bid to ‘save water’ but you don’t quite believe that as he’s running his hands down your waist, grabbing your arse and kissing down your neck from behind. And you certainly don’t believe it when you’re moaning into the steamy cube, hand pressed against the wall as he’s taking you from behind, hands roughly on your hips, your name falling from his lips. And you even don’t think about it when you’re coming to your high, him following shortly after, but you did think about it when he’s muttering about how ‘maybe I didn’t do my bit for the environment. Because you’re going to have to clean up again’
John introducing Millie and his daughter to you and he's going "look girls she means the world to me and I know it's a change but I love her so much, be nice okay?" And when you arrive millies pulling you into a hug and going "be good to him yeah? Don't break his heart" and John's so confused but in love because how has he met someone who's so willing to be friend's with the ex and to be the stepmum
He’s preparing them for it a few days in advance: you’ll be with him when he picks her up, his daughter is to be nice, he knows Millie will be. And you’re trailing behind John, nervous at the thought of meeting the daughter he talks about so much, worried at the thought of Millie hating you. And Millie’s opening the door, John’s going to collect his daughter and you’re awkwardly stood, not knowing what to say - but you don’t have to know. She’s pulling you into a tight hug, saying ‘be good to him, yeah? Don’t break his heart’ and you’re saying of course you wouldn’t ever do that and she knows you mean it so she smiles and releases you, asking you about your life, taking a genuine interest - not hostility whatsoever. And John is standing at the bottom of the stairs, holding his daughter and her bag, a big smile on his face at the sight of you two getting along.
How’s Stones and the United photographer getting on they still texting ?
They’re texting everyday now. The odd flirty text seeping into the mass of ‘hows your day been?’ But it doesn’t translate to in person meeting and how can it not you live in the same city, you walk the same streets - how have you never seen each other since? And Jesse is teasing you whilst you photograph him in training ‘so hows my mate, John? Doing good is he?’ And you’d laugh at his childishness and snap a photo, desperate to read the unread message you know you’ll have waiting for you; ‘I’m free all of Saturday’
‘Yeah, how you spending that time?’
Can you write something about John being jealous of the fact that whilst he's at training you're at home with pickford and he's coming home ready to shout at you both because he thinks something's going on but when he walks in he sees you holding Jordan's son and he's rushing to your side all anger gone because that's his girl holding a baby and when they leave he's asking for a baby "I know I've already got one but she ain't a baby anymore, can we have one, something to show our love"
He’s on his way back from his bad training session, distracted the entire time after you sent him a text saying Jordan is coming round and he couldn’t get it out of his head the entire day. And he’s pulling into the driveway, hoping out the car, agitated at the thought of you and Pickford spending the entire day together, his mind wandering with possibilities. And he walks through the front door, making no exclamation of his arrival, expecting the worst. Instead he freezes, met with the sight of you holding Jordan’s son, all of the anger and annoyance that had built up throughout the morning dissipating at the image. And he’s slowly walking up to you - his girl, holding a child - and he’s kissing your cheek, greeting Jordan, eyes having to tear themselves away from you. So when Jordan leaves John’s arms are immediately around your waist as the door closes, leaning into your neck from behind, swaying you back and forth. ‘I know I’ve already got one and I love her to pieces but can we have one? One that’s ours. To show our love?’
Right okay can we continue this man united photographer and Stonsy flirtation-ship hows he getting her number, his he texting Jesse or one of the United lads to get it or what ?
Following on from this. I’m loving this, anon
He’s fully getting it off Jesse, texting him asking for the ‘photographer’s number’ and Jesse is sending it back with a wink emoji and a teasing ‘remember she’s ours’ and he’s texting you immediately with a simple ‘Hi, it’s John’. You’re replying later in the day, after you’ve finished sorting through the mornings training session photos, surprised that he remembered you or bothered to speak more and you’re smirking as you send back a reply and he’s smiling as he reads it.
Your photos didn’t turn out too bad x
Could you write about meeting John for the first time as the man united photographer at a game and you bump into each other and its playful jibes and a connection straight away and at the end of the night he's asking for your number wanting to take you out for coffee
And it’s when a football is launched in your direction as the players warm up, your photography being interrupted that he jogs up to you with floppy hair to collect it. ‘Hope you’re getting some nice photos’, came a Barnsley accent. And you laugh, ‘of my men in red, yes. Of you? Just photos.’ And he lets out a breath of a laugh and jogs off back to the circle, continuing to train, occasionally looking back at you with a small smile. And throughout the game you take more photos of him, not purposefully but he was good to photograph and you swear in some of them he’s looking right at you. He’s subbed off in the 63rd minute, passing by you and throwing out a ‘Sure those photos of me aren’t good?’ And you shake your head as you laugh a little, watching him walk off smiling, and get back to photographing the men in red - now with no distractions.
Just been looking down your profile can we have a continue of the one of John texting you to meet him after the game, the one where you distracted him and get gets subbed of
continuation of this blurb
and you’re texting back ‘where’, leaving your friend with a promise of speaking tomorrow, and making your way through the halls of the stadium, recognised by security and not stopped, until you see him, leaning against a wall, hair wet and skin glistening, straightening up when he sees you coming. Neither of you saying anything at first, awkward tension coating the otherwise empty halls, staring at each other, an awkward stride of distance between you, all the courage you’d previously had on the walk down dissipated. He’s the first one to close the gap, taking a hesitant step forward, your name leaving his lips and you’ve missed how it sounded when he said it, in his accent. ‘I’ve missed you’ you breathed out as he took hesitant steps forward until he was directly in front of you. And the close proximity made your breath hitch in your throat and he’s whispering back that he’s missed you too, eyes trailing over your lips, the gap becoming smaller as he leans in. And soon his lips are on yours, backing you up against the wall, hands on your waist, yours around his neck and it’s bliss and you’ve missed him and you don’t want this moment to end. But of course it did, interrupted by a ‘Woah alright, John, warn us next time’ coming from Kyle at the top of the corridor. And you both quickly pulled apart, your head going into his neck, laughing in embarrassment. It was just like old times.
Can you write something about John showing you off on social media whenever you hit a milestone in your career and he's always posting photos of you talking about how proud of you he is
he barely uses Instagram, but you can bet everytime you achieve even the smallest thing there’s a story of you both celebrating it, nothing direct or big - John’s not about that - it’s just a subtle show of how proud he is of you. And in interviews it’s always ‘the missus is good at that’, ‘yeah, my missus is incredible’, ‘it’s nice that both me and her can achieve by ourselves and be so supportive of each other’. And everyone finds it adorable, the lads find it annoying, and you feel lavished in love always.
John taking you into the club toilet to remind you and everyone else you are his on a night out because you are wearing a tight dress and every guy is staring at you...
you were dancing in the middle of the club, body looking amazing in that dress he loved but he wasn’t watching you. Drink in hand, leaning against the bar, he was watching every other man in the club watch you - and he was angry. He couldn’t blame them, you looked incredible and he knew that and usually he wouldn’t even mind, knowing you were his but with the excess alcohol coursing through his veins he couldn’t stop himself from striding into the middle of the crowd of sweaty bodies, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to the toilets. ‘John what are you-’ and his moth was on yours immediately, guiding you towards the sink. ‘Jump’ was whispered across your face as he made his way to your neck, hands on your hips, pushing up your dress, grip so tight he’d leave bruises. And he uses his fingers to give you pleasure, kissing down your neck, your moans engulfing the dimly lit club toilets sporadically in contrast to the rhythmic movements of his hands. And it’s all about you, not him. He’s showing everyone you’re his - ‘moan for me, baby’ - and he’s holding you close as you reach orgasm, collecting your moans in his mouth, and pulling your dress down again. ‘Now go show everyone that body again, love, now that it’s been marked as mine’ and you slap his shoulder as you notice the marks on your neck in the dirty mirror.
Okay but can you write something about John calling you the missus for the first time? Like say you're out with the England lads and he's just goes "right boys, I'll see you soon, gotta get the missus home she's falling asleep"
John Stones saying missus. You’re killing me
He spent all day trying to convince you to come out with them, ‘come on, love, get glammed up, it’ll be fun’ and of course you couldn’t resist his northern charms so you did just that. And John almost decided against going out when he saw you in that outfit - ‘you’re killing me, love’ - but you laughed and pulled him behind you, down to meet the lads and their girlfriends and going wherever they take you. And you have a great time like John promised, dancing with him, laughing with the lads, gossiping with the girls and it’s not long before you’re collapsing into the booth, head on John’s shoulder, eyes falling shut and he’s smiling down at you, announcing, ‘right boys, I’ll see you soon. Got to get the missus home, she’s falling asleep on me’ with a laugh. But even in your almost asleep state you picked up on it, him calling you that name in front of all the lads, full of love. And you make a mental note to remind him to say that again after you’ve slept. Which you did, and he called you it everyday after, over and over and it did things to you everytime. It had seemed impossible for anything to top ‘love’ in that Barnsley accent, but, god, it’s just completely been obliterated.
hi can you write some angry smutty stonesy please xx
Always, anon x
and it’s after a game they should have won but didn’t, a game in which the refs decisions were clearly biased, a game in which John was obviously getting frustrated. So when he came to your house after the game and not his, you weren’t surprised. And when he roughly kissed you as soon as you opened the door you weren’t surprised: you’d been anticipating it. You weren’t shocked when he didn’t guide you to your bedroom but instead sat you on the windowsill, roughly pushing down your leggings as he kissed down your neck. He captured your moans in his mouth, working you with his fingers roughly and fast as you moaned his name into the room. He pushed himself inside you with a growl, one hand roughly on your hip - that’ll bruise - and the other leaving an imprint on the fogged up window. With each thrust he buried himself further inside you, your moans being collected by the air now as his mouth was busy biting and kissing your neck, your hands tugging at his hair. And you both gave into the ecstasy one after the other, his grip tightening on your hips. Then leans in with a cheekily smile, ‘I’m still mad at that ref, baby. Round two?’
smut!! (for anyone🤪)
I decided to leave it nameless so it can be with anyone. also not 100% happy with this one but it needed done x
So you’re in a club, he took you, you didn’t particularly want to go but he begged and so you put on your finest outfit, looking absolutely stunning because if he’s making you go you’re going to make him wish he’d have you in private. And it has the desired effect, him putting his hands on you the moment he sees you, you swatting away his hands and insisting you need to get going, smirking as you walk off. And he’s distracted all night, hands on you if you’re close enough, eyes on you if you’re not, all his mates smirking and winking at him and it’s 11 when he decides fuck it, and takes you home with the announcement ‘got to tend to the missus, lads’. And he’s all over you in the taxi home, hands up your dress, caressing your thigh, dress too tight to your skin for him to get any further up but god he loves that dress. Then when you’re in the house he’s pulling you to the sofa, not even bothering with the bedroom, unzipping your dress and staring at you in awe, muttering how beautiful you are. So he lifts you firmly by your hips, legs hooking around his waist, his hands grabbing your arse, tongue in your mouth and you’re moaning his name as he slips inside you, creating a steady rhythm, his breath staggering from holding you up, so he puts you on the counter and continues. And it’s sensual and lustful all at once, his groans and your moans mixing together in the late night silence. His pace slowing as he reaches his high, and he pulls out, finishing you off with his hand, moving it against you, kissing down your neck as he goes. After you finish you stay still a while, heads resting together, collecting yourselves and smiling.
okay being in a relationship with John but you had a huge fight and drifted apart and haven’t had much contact for weeks but one day you decided to show up to his game wearing a jersey with his name on it and the cameraman randomly shows you on the screen and John sees it during the game and is all distracted and gets subbed off and as soon as he leaves the pitch he texts you to meet him after the game
I actually really liked this idea, anon
so you hadn’t spoken to John in weeks, but it was a big derby match and you’d be damned if you missed it because of him, so you got ready, throwing on your Man City jersey and go to the game with your friend. And it was a good game. And intense game. You were telling your friend that City are playing well - but John was starting and playing well was what you really meant. And it’s after a goal, everyone celebrating, showing the gleeful fans that he sees you, up on the screen, screaming and hugging your friend and he notices it, of course he does. STONES written across your back and it looks right to him, and he keeps thinking about it, looking at were he thinks you are in the crowd, searching, hoping to get a chance to see you - his girl - with his name on your back. Like it should be. And it’s this distraction that ends with him getting subbed off, commentators agreeing with the decision - ‘Stones has slipped in quality this second half’ - but he doesn’t care. He’s getting his phone out as soon as he’s off, finding your undeleted contact name and sending you a message.
Meet me after the game x
And you see it at full time, high off the win, high off the thought of him. So of course you do.
do jealous stonesy!!
jealous stonsey my god
And it’s when you meet dele that it happens but of course you don’t notice it because you’re sat laughing along to everything he says, leaning forwards into his space, making him smile and laugh and gush about ‘John’s charming missus’. And John can’t hear what you’re saying, so he doesn’t know that you’re sat trading stories about him - not that it should matter. So when you leave you’re confused at the way he refuses to look at you as he drives home and the way he goes straight upstairs for a shower as you get in. And you’re making a cuppa downstairs when he comes back down, towel hung loosely around his waist, hair damp to his forehead and chest glistening so you take the opportunity to speak, ‘I had a good day today’. And he snaps back an angry ‘yeah I know’, and you’re shocked, holding his tea in your hands, feeling lost and not knowing what to do with it. ‘So you got along with dele. Like everyone else. That’s understandable. Of course you would’. And it makes you laugh. Your John. Being jealous of dele? How could he compare. So you wander up to him, stroking his huffing face, smiling at his decelerations of ‘oh so this is funny to you’ and mumbling assurances of love. Because of course you love him. And his face softens. Because of course he knows this, he’s just being irrational. And he’s pulling you into his chest, and you’re squirming and laughing, ‘no you’re wet’, and he smirks cheekily ‘I don’t mind when you’re wet, love’ and you’re laughing together and you hand him his tea and you spend the rest of the night showing him how much you love him - never anyone else.
more smutty stonesy please !! Your amazing love x
aww thank you anon, it’s a longer one x
Running around a football pitch for ninety minutes can be tiring, a fact you came to know because of the aftermath of John’s matches - him falling exhausted into bed the minute he got home, regardless of if you were there or not. So, as much as you loved watching your man run about for ninety minutes, goal line clearances left and right, you relished the games he was a sub or he didn’t play - you loved a riled up John wanting to blow of steam. So when he pulled you hurriedly to his car after the game, hair wet from his post-game shower and adrenaline coursing through his veins from the 20 minutes he played, you didn’t resist one bit, your own car left forgotten. And he drove hurdily through the streets, navigating his way back to his house and you squeezed your thighs together in anticipation, glancing over at John, who’s eyes were firmly fixed in the road. And then you decided to have some fun. It started off innocent. A small brush over his thigh, smirking to yourself at his tightening hands on the steering wheel. And you moved up and across, fingers skimming his bulge, hands on the steering wheel going white, smirk on your face growing as you pushed down his joggers, palming him through his underwear. His moan filled the quiet car and it was enough to get you to place your mouth around him in a state of passion, engulfing his entirety immediately, wanting to waste no time, and he squirmed beneath you, growling into the air, foot letting up on the gas pedal, as you gained rhythm. One white knuckle off the wheel, into your hair, pushing and pulling your head how he wants, and it was lustful and passionate and interrupted by the loud honking of a car horn behind you. And you jumped up in shock, John practically having stopped in the road, and you laughed to yourself as John hurriedly collected himself and drove on, definitely breaking the speed limit and both squirming at the thought of the rest of the night - and it’ll be a long one.
Okay but riding John's thigh and you won't let him touch you and you're just going "till you get her face off your body you ain't touching me again babe, you'll just have to watch me get my self off"
and it started when your friend showed you some stupid article that mentioned he still had his tattoo and what it might suggest for the future of their relationship, and not that you have a problem with Millie but that rubbed you the wrong way so you sit at work, waiting to get home to him and show him who his girl is. And it seems like forever before you’re pulling into the driveway and walking into the living room, seeing him back from training sat on the sofa and flicking through Netflix. And god he looks good, of course he does, so you stride over to him, sit straddeling his thigh, his hands making immediate movements to your hips but you push him away and he’s shocked, mumblings of ‘love’ and ‘babe’ falling from his mouth as he desperately tries to grasp any part of your body. But you push him off every time, ‘till you get your face off her body you don’t get to touch me, babe’ and he’s groaning, sinking back into the cushion as he watches you through dark eyes, rocking back and forth on his thigh, small moans emitting from your mouth and he can barely contain himself, hands still trying to grasp, still being rejected, ‘you’ll just have to watch me get myself off’ and he hates it but god he loves it. The tattoo is gone within a week.
anon you’re killing me x
Hi can u write some more stonesy please he doesn’t get enough love on here & you’re very talented xx
thank you anon, john stones will always deserve more love
you’re in the crowd, watching him play and he’s playing so well and you’re so proud and sometimes he catches sight of you in the crowd, holding his daughter and laughing at the nonsense she speaks and he knows his name is on your back and those two things are enough to make him smile. and it’s on tv and it’s gifed and everyone loves his smile but you know it’s just for you. then the game finishes and he’s walking up to you, sweaty and tired, taking his daughter in his arms and you loved how he looked at her, how he spoke to her. and then he’s wrapping his other arm around your waist and kissing you softly and god you loved how he looked at you and you both felt so happy, so content, not caring that the cameras were capturing it and there’d be an article labelled ‘John Stones and his WAG put on a sizzling display’ because all you wanted was to get home, put his daughter to bed and show each other how in love you really were.
omg do one for stones!!
You’d shuffle down the stairs looking for John, finding him stood at the stove making eggs and sausages, low hanging joggers and shirtless. And he’d be smirking as he caught you staring at his chest and playfully rolling his eyes as you lightly frown at his tattoo of Millie. ‘Don’t worry, love’ he’d laugh, ‘now go back to admiring me’ and you’d feel your cheeks heating up and of course he does this all the time because he loves teasing you and seeing you blush and of course you’d brush him off with a laugh and a roll of the eyes he loves so much, but you make damn sure to admire them back muscles when he turns back around.