20.05.19

him…… in this kit…….. with that messy hair…… yelling…… i just…… W O W……..

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.

Sunshine

Just throwing it out there

Dear trauma survivors,

It doesn’t matter that somebody else ‘had it worse’.

You deserved to have it better.

If it weren’t for you, I never would’ve survived my childhood.

Just an idea 💡 for your John story could be that she doesn’t want to get involved with him because of his drama history but he’s persistent and shows her that he can be different and a one woman man only idk just thought 💭

definitely a good thought, anon! Sorry it took so long to reply! I have exams that end in two weeks, but after them I plan on writing a full chaptered story and this will definitely be incorporated into it x

How old are you? ❤️

Ooo my first actual question ask!

I’m always interested in knowing people’s ages to see if they seem the age they actually are!

And I’m 17 x

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.

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.