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?’
Stop that……………..
okay I know we lost but big Christian Atsu did show himself
If you thought Barcelona was bad @ Liverpool, just wait until you get to Newcastle. Big Christian Atsu will fuck you right up lads
john stones headers
like ou c @futebolou
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!
who let stonesy do this?
The John Stones that played against Panama in the World Cup is the John Stones I want ok.
Protect GKs at all costs✊🏻
I was actually your pal till you said you wanted city to win the League 🥴 for a loyal Liverpool fan lmao x
Haha I’m very sorry! Genuinely because of John stones and Bernardo silva tbf and the fact that the only Liverpool fan I know in person I don’t particularly like so if I’m honest I just want them to suffer ahah. We can still be pals though I don’t care too much about who wins the league all I want is Newcastle to stay up!
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?’
Paul Dummett, Fabian Schär, Martin Dúbravka, Bernardo Silva and John Stones are my loves
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