John Stones Headers

hey just checking that my asks are going through sorry xx

Hey, love,

I think they most likely are I’m just being very, very unproductive because I’ve been a bit down lately, I’m sorry. I’ll get all the requests done soon, promise!

until you can’t believe there was a moment you didn't think they were.

you and Trent come home drunk and end up having drunk sex and your both laughing and acting like teenagers again x

And you’re falling through the door, clung onto his shoulders, still giggling at both of your attempts to open the door and immediately going to unbutton his dress shirt. But obviously you’re doing it clumsily and T is laughing at the site, not making it any easier with his dramatic chest movements for you and you’re thinking fuck it, it can stay on, getting to work on his belt instead. And he’s hitching up your dress seemingly with the same self awareness of his capabilities in that state as you finally fling his belt off with a ‘why’d you even where this thing’. And he’s undoing the button because you’re taking too long, shoving down his trousers and boxers, and kicking them off to the side. And he’s pulling you up to him, dress still hiked up, and sloppily inserting himself in you. And it’s erratic and messy and not at all sexy and you’re both finding it hilarious as you knock over the clock, both of your faces tinged red - from the alcohol and the sex and god this is love.

marcus getting touchy in front of jess

and he’s pulling you into him as you’re stood cooking, Jesse sat on a kitchen stool scrolling through his phone, and he’s holding your hips close to him, one hand roaming up and down and mouth next to your ear. And you’re giggling slightly, swatting his hands with a spoon and telling him ‘talk to Jesse, I’m busy.’ And he’s spinning you around, spoon dropping into a pan and hugging you tight, head into your neck.

‘You do remember I’m here, right?’

a marcus rashford about saying i love you for the first time. maybe it slips out accidentally and his reaction

It just slipped out when he gave you breakfast. A simple ‘thanks, I love you’ and it was so natural for you to say you barely noticed at first, until you looked up to see Marcus staring at you. Your response was to blush bright red and place a stubborn stare on your plate. And he’s stuttering a response out and god you feel so stupid - he obviously doesn’t feel the same way. You’re contemplating every possible way to get out of this situation until your thought of ‘window?’ Was cut short by an abrupt ‘I love you too’ and you’re the one looking up in surprise, staring at him, stuttering. You’re both smiling sheepishly from two sides of the kitchen, him continuing to make food, you eating yours.

Does anyone else have that one mutual who’s like Way Too Popular to be following you and ur lowkey convinced that they regret following u

Trying swimsuits infront of T?

‘What about this one’ you’re saying, giving a spin and watching his eyes drink you all in as they slowly skirt up and down. ‘Beautiful, love.’ And you’re sighing slightly as you throw him a smile - of course you appreciate it so much but god he’s been saying that about every one and you just want to know which is the best one to buy. So you’re turning around, strutting back into the changing room to change into a final one when he’s appearing behind you, arms sliding around your waist and head in your neck. ‘The red one. Get the red one, love’ is huskily whispered into your neck: ‘now let’s go home and try taking off some clothes’

Fluffy Winks! Maybe something where his girl is stressed because of job and overworking herself. Then it's finally friday and weekend. And he makes sure she gets a rest; maybe some cuddling, bath or something.

Ugh I love him he’s like a puppy x

And you’d wander into his house, collapse on the sofa, hearing him pattering about upstairs but you’re too tired to go see what he’s doing, too stressed to even think about him and you’re thinking about work, pulling out your laptop and finishing things off - despite it being Friday. And he’s coming downstairs with a cheery ‘hi’, closing your laptop and talking you by the hand, ignoring your protests of having to finish your work. And he’s shushing you with ‘you can’t do good work if you’re stressed, like I can’t play good football when I’m stressed’ and he’s pulling you into the bathroom, a bubble bath inside and lit with candles. Then he starts undressing you, and you climb in, with Harry sat on the floor by the side, kissing you occasionally, listening, letting you get it all out and hugging your top half lightly - ‘I don’t want to get too wet’ he’d laugh. And you’d think about all the work you have to do for a split second second, but one look into his puppy dog eyes and it all melts away, the only thought now: ‘babe, are you not getting a dead leg?’. And of course he is. For you.