I Can’t Believe All It Took To Convince Tony Stark To Literally Invent Time Travel And Save The Fucking

I love this smiling bastard.

On a real Fabinho looked like me trying to get out of year 9 P.E.

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.

*chanting* Smutty Lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard Smutty Lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard Smutty Lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard Smutty Lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard smutty lingard

YES, chant it

So he’s subbed off after 70 minutes, sending you a wink and a subtle flick of the head to follow as he goes for his post-match shower. And you follow, cheeks heating up despite no one seeing, hurriedly finding the dressing room. Jesse is immediately on you, pushing you against the door, closing it as he does and locking it. Tongue in your mouth, hand in your hair, sweaty body pressed against yours and you moan into his mouth and he loves it. And he’s pushing you and his shorts down, head falling backwards and a string of moans pouring out of his mouth as you work on him. Tip first, teasing him, stroking him, head going further and further down, gaining a rhythm. And his moans are getting more loud and intense as he’s pulling you back up, mouth on yours again, pushing down your trousers, hand under the shirt with his name on the back, resting on your waist as he lowers you onto the cold bench, head between your legs. And then it’s you moaning, and your knuckles going white as his tongue and his fingers do their work, moving perfectly with his expertise (and you make a mental note to mention that later). And it’s when he comes back up, ready to kiss you again that there’s a knock on the door and the two of you pull up your clothes, Jesse unlocking the door to find Marcus at the front of a large group of footballers clad in red and you walk past sheepishly, all of them smirking at you and you laugh as you hear Rashford speak, ‘couldn’t even watch us win could ya?’

‘Well I had other business, beansprouts’.

Okay so I can be more active over Sunday-Tuesday so with some hope I’ll get through all the requests and more some

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.

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?’

falling asleep on winks

and Harry was still lazily talking about his day, arm under your body around your waist as your head lay on his chest. And you’d been trying to keep your eyes open as he spoke about how his day back in training was but the circles he was rubbing on your skin, the blanket covering you both and the soft feeling of his steady heartbeat against your head lulled you into a heavenly sleep.

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.

22 Questions (or 20)

Answer 22 questions, tag 22 people. Thank you so much @winksy8 for tagging me!

Nicknames: don’t have any

Height: 5’2 or 1.58m (I’m short)

Last movie I saw: I can’t even remember. Probably something recommended to me on Netflix but I have a terrible memory

Last thing I googled: ‘marxisim and stalin’ because I read a thing

Favourite musician: I don’t really have one tbh. I just like individual songs. Tom Odell maybe? I don’t know

Song stuck in my head: Congratulations that pewdiepie, roomie and boyinaband song don’t judge

Other blogs?: well I had about 6 originally but accidentally deleted the entire account so no

Following: 54

Followers: 63 (which is insane because I’ve had this blog for just a few days)

Amount of asks: that I get generally? I get a few a day about writing prompts but that aren’t that I’ve only ever had one. Currently I have 3

Lucky numbers: I don’t really believe in luck or anything so I don’t have one

What are you wearing?: leggings and a big t shirt

Dream job: theoretical physicist

Dream trip: not sure. I want to visit Israel. And then apart from that it’s less about the country and more about visiting places within it. I don’t really have a dream trip though

Favourite food: red grapes

Instruments: I can play the flute at grade 7. I can play the violin, clarinet and guitar badly. And the piano averagely

Languages: English. I have a gcse in french but can’t speak it. I want to learn Italian (I know some basics) and Hebrew (I know some basics). I like languages I’m just not committed enough to learn them

Favourite song: like with favourite musician, I don’t really have one. It changes. I tend to get obsessed with a song and listen to only that song for a week before getting sick of it and finding a new one

Random fact: mangoes originated in Southern Asia

Aesthetic: being a failure

I’d tag people but I’d feel annoying even though personally I love being tagged in things, so I tag everyone who wants to do it