#måmeskin fanfiction

[its-afucking-mess]

Backstage shannenigens

Thomas x y/n smut lol

prompt: thomas fucking your throat literal seconds before performing

prompt by: aaa dont exactly who but it was from zodi's asks for slutty saturday :)

(zodi: @icouldbeyourpuppet )

Masterlist :)

_______

" Eyyyyy!" 

Everyone's head turned towards you. Their faces were all laced with stress, but they seemed glad to see you.

" You all good? I can smell your stress."

The band looked at you with judgemental silence.

" Yeah, I get it, no jokes. It is your longest run after Eurovision, I shouldn't be surprised."

Trying to lighten the atmosphere, you excitedly point at the bag you were holding.

" Well I brought you guys a gift." You said, pulling out a medium sized bottle.

" Energy time babes! Drink up, you'll need it."

You start handing out the sports drinks to the band members, each one getting a different colour.

" What the fuck is this?" Damiano asked, pointing at the bottle's cover.

" I thought I asked for energy drinks," Damiano uncapped the bottle, taking a whiff.

" You know, like redbull or something."

You rolled your eyes.

" These are healthier. They are meant for athletes, they have to have some benefits over redbull." You replied.

Victoria and Thomas were the first to try the drinks, their facial expressions remaining neutral.

" And, they have different flavours." 

You looked back at Ethan, who was chugging his drink down.

" That has to be a plus." You said through giggles.

" I could get behind this." Victoria said, slamming the bottle on the coffee table.

You look at your boyfriend, Thomas, seeing if he approves of the drinks.

Nervousness was painted all over his face still, but he gave you a reassuring smile from where he sat.

" Well, Damiano. It seems it's 3 to 1." 

You pulled another drink out and took a sip for yourself.

" You lost."

Damiano dramatically dropped his head back, pretending to be shocked at the results.

Your banter was cut short however.

" Måneskin. You're going out in 15. Check your stuff."

Everyone looked around themselves, checking their clothes for any disfiguration.

When all confirmed the lack of any clothing catastrophes, the stage manager instructed them to get their instruments.

And that's when it began.

" Where's my guitar?" Thomas asked, looking around the room.

"How would we know?" Victoria said, wearing the strap of her bass.

" Well, I can't perform without it!" He said, panickly looking behind the couches.

" In 10!" The stage manager said, popping his head backstage.

" Yeah, no. We are missing the guitar." Ethan said, looking with Thomas.

" I have to check further down. It must be in the rooms." Thomas said, rushing down the hall.

You quickly followed, wanting to help with the search.

The dim lights of the halls came in big contrast with the bright light coming from Thomas' room.

You could see him rummaging through his stuff, but to no avail.

" In 5, team." The stage manager yelled, and Victoria prayed that Thimad found his guitar quickly enough.

" For fucks sake!" Thomas exhaled, falling on the carpeted floor.

He wiped his eyes with the inside of his palm, trying to push back tears of frustration.

" Hey, come on." You said, kneeling down to him and trying to soothe him.

" I'm sure it's somewhere here." You said, getting up and looking yourself.

It seemed, in his frustration, he didn't bother to check the guitar case, which is ultimately where it was.

" See? All is okay, your guitar is here." You said calmly, passing it to him.

" Like I haven't already ruined the show." He said, sniffing.

With a pout, you raised him by his collared shirt off the floor, pressing your lips against his.

The kiss was meant to be short and encouraging, but it quickly took a turn down the passionate path.

Shortly parting for breath, you hoisted yourself on his waist, legs locking around his back, before reconnecting.

There was insatiable lust behind your kiss, Thomas' hunger shining through and being boosted by his previous frustration.

When he pulled away, you tried to kiss his collarbone, but got pushed away from that area.

" Not there, not now," he said sternly.

You tried to kiss his jaw, but noticed the guitar sitting behind you.

" Shit, you have to go." You said, unlocking your legs and setting them on the ground, standing up properly.

" Not fair…" He whined, trying to pull you back.

You caught sight of a prominent bulge coming through his loose pants, and couldn't help but giggle.

" Walk it off. You have a performance." You said, noticing your tone came out as.more suggestive than intended.

He looked dead into your eyes.

" Walk it off? How?" he asked, as if it was an obscene request of you to make.

" Just do." You smirked, trying to walk away.

His hand flew out and caught your wrist, bringing you back to his chest with ease.

" How about you finish what you start, hm?" He said, eyes darkening as he pushed you on your knees.

You looked back at him with uncertainty, yet still itching to pull his pants down as quickly as possible.

" But, you are going out in 2 mi-" You started, but he shushed you.

" Make it quick then." He said, unbuttoning the button of his pants.

" We can't go out without our guitarist." Damiano explained, but he wasn't heard.

" Then get him here."

There was brief silence, before the stage manager continued.

" Look, we have guitar playbacks for all the songs performed tonight. Until he shows up, that's what we will use," he suggested.

" Unless, you have any other ideas?" He asked.

When he received no reply, he sighed.

" Alright, champs, go get it."

The band members, minus Thomas, entered the stage, preparing to perform.

Carefully, you removed Thomas' cock from his pants, relishing in his sigh of relief.

You smirked, starting by teasing the head with your tongue, flattening down and letting inch after inch slowly enter your mouth.

You then pulled away and swirled your tongue around the head, using your tongue to pull apart his slit and taste his salt. 

He was holding his breath without realizing it, too enraptured by the view of your lips wrapping around his member and your head moving up and down, up and down, matching the speed of your hand's thrusts.

In the background, music had started playing, and that edged you to be quicker.

A mixture of embarrassment, for holding Thomas behind, and thrill, from publicly sucking him off while the others were performing live, was settled in your mind.

And it drove you crazy.

You started moving slower, knowing it drove him crazy too.

Your tongue was making less, yet more precise movements, aiming for all the spots that made him squirm.

With a lewd pop, you pulled off and slowly pumped, giving his head kitten licks to tease him.

You knew it was a matter of time before he had enough of your teasing and took over, and he did.

His first few thrusts were shallow, giving you time to adjust.

His pace slowly growed, and the performance in the background moved you both to hurry.

You started to work him with your tongue alongside his thrusting, causing him to throw his head back in pleasure.

“Let me get a good look at you. Let me see your eyes, pretty princess.” 

You slowly opened your eyes (you hadn't realised you had closed them) and tried to look up, the strain making them water. That made him let out a groan.

"That’s right. Look at you. My little toy with their lips around my cock. That’s hot as shit. You’re so fucking sexy.”

Your eyes slammed shut again as you continued to work with his thrusts. Your tongue moved in a sloppy, messy way but it made him feel so fucking good.

You sucked and licked and kept up a momentum that was so painfully wondrous that his skin was crawling. You didn’t even ask to stop when he started to buck his hips because he was seconds away from finishing.

“Baby, I’m going to cum. I’m going to cum and you’re going to swallow every last drop, got it beautiful? With your perfect, tight throat.”

You prepared yourself, pulling almost all the way out whilst dragging your teeth over his shaft.

“Fuck, baby, yes!” 

He held your head down with both hands when he came, feeling the thick strands of white viscous fluid escape his cock and hit the deep walls of your frail throat.

You tried to swallow most of it, yet a bit managed to leak out your mouth, running down your jaw.

Many thoughts were crossing your mind, all the while Thomas came down from his high.

A sudden quiet from the back reminded both of you of the situation you were in, slightly panicking.

Thomas got up in a frenzy, tucking himself away, and checking his clothes in the mirror for any stains.

His thighs lightly trembled when he walked, you noticed as he picked up the discarded guitar.

You smiled at him pridefully.

" We," he said, hastily wearing the guitar's strap.

" -will talk after the show." He completed, blowing you a kiss and running out, down the hall, closing the door behind him.

bonus:

The time for the guitar solo was nearing, and Damiano was worried, delivering still the final words of the chorus as usual.

Closing his eyes in anticipation, he walked over to Ethan, sitting on the steps under the drum set.

As the time arrived for the solo, Thomas slid in on his knees from backstage, jamming out while the crowd roared at his sudden appearance.

Victoria and Damiano both sighed in relief, and so did Ethan probably, they couldn't hear.

The song ended and sparks flew from the stage, the crowd's applause deafeningly loud.

" Were the fuck were you?" Ethan asked, turning to smile at the crowd from closer by.

" The guitar needed to be re-stringed." Thomas lied, playing some spare chords.

The other three looked at each other knowingly, and Victoria patted his head.

" Next time, try not to fuck 10.minutes before a performance, m'kay?" 

All snickered at Thomas' shocked and embarrassed look, quickly changing theme as the lighting shifted and the next song started.

[its-afucking-mess]

Over-sea's

Victoria x reader,

in which you and Vic are in a long distance relationship, but you surprise her.

masterlist

once again, tag list for mutuals, plus whoever wants :)

@icouldbeyourpuppet , @cheese-toastie-11 , @mywritingonlyfans , @oro-e-diamanti , @iveneverbeenmorestressedinmylife , @illicitfuck , @sofckinelectric , @lasciatemi-stare , @juststalking

(if you want to be in the taglist just say so :D)

________

You and Vic were always close.

Very close.

Ever since the band's second album debut, you had managed to secure being her girlfriend.

There was only one setback; you and Victoria lived nowhere near each other.

You actually were childhood friends, meeting when she visited Denmark during the summer. Your summers were always fun and adventurous, and you grew very close. 

Even while living in Italy, Victoria and you always talked on the phone, telling each other every little thing happening in your lives. You had even managed to be one of her closest people, if not the one closest to her.

She always texted you fun pictures of her and her bandmates, as well as her most stunning ones, asking you if they were "post-safe".

You really cherished the time you spent with her, even practicing bass guitar with her over her visits.

You were the one to fuel her idea of applying to X-Factor with her band, and she always appreciated being their fan.

After collecting enough money, you'd visit during the winter, when it was more bearable, spending almost all of your time with her and her bandmates.

You thought it was obvious after the first, even, visit you liked her, romantically, but apparently she was the last one to notice.

For a good 6 months, you were pining over her, while she remained ignorant. It killed you, and you thought she knew but didn't feel the same.

It was only after her bandmate, Ethan, added both of you in a group chat, finally asking you to confess to each other, 'cause it drove him insane.

It was a fun night, calling Victoria to make confessing your feelings to her much easier. She had argued she didn't expect you to like women in the first place, but was delighted to hear you felt the same.

And since then, you two were dating.

Well, sort of. 

As much as you two loved each other, there was a big distance separating you two, and it made things difficult.

A lot of people say it's hard to have a long distance relationship, but when you are with the right person, it would all work out in your favour.

You still tried to visit whenever possible, mostly during times you knew she'd be free, and therefore spend most of that time together, as lovers.

The pandemic certainly posed a challenge most difficult for both of you. It was an entire year where you couldn't meet the other, all because of Italy's sudden rise in serious cases and deaths.

You both tried to be in constant contact with each other, trying not to lose your minds. It really helped the relationship grow, but it made you so much more frustrated that you couldn't visit.

So that's how you came up with quite an impulsive idea.

You searched up housing in Italy, near Vic's apartement, sick and tired of having to travel through the entire continent to visit your partner. You had managed to spot quite the apartment, a bit small, but worked perfectly for what you needed.

It was going to be a perfect surprise for Victoria, who out of the two was most stressed.

Her band's success, as well as the offered position of representing Italy at Eurovision had Vic on the walls, always catching her playing her bass and reviewing pieces for their newest album.

It was hard seeing her all stressed, and knowing you could be there to comfort her, but couldn't, made it so much harder.

You tried to be there and support her dream over the phone, always psycing her up and trying to deplete any uncertainties she had.

The nights passed with you on calls with each other, trying to desperately bring down the stress levels to a minimum. And every night that came closer to you finally moving to Italy, you could barely hide your excitement from her.

In preparation, all the clothes you weren't that bonded with were gifted to thrift stores, or to clothing recycling, trying to bring the least you could along. Your apartment contract ended anyways, so it was perfectly timed with your flight out. It wasn't like any of the furniture was yours anyways.

Vic had noticed something different, but her preparation for the Eurovision song contest kept her busy enough to not go that far into it.

The nights went from months to weeks, to only a few days, to-

Tomorrow.

The days passed by so fast, and spending them all with Vic made you forget.

So there you were, hours before you flew out, packing hastily, yet neatly, all shaken by the reality of things.

Finally, after three years, you would be able to be next to your partner, all year round.

After two years of not seeing her, you'd spend almost every day, if not all days in the year, with her.

Every time the thought crossed your mind, happy tears flooded your eyes. It was increasingly hard not to text her, to not outright tell her and surprise her already, but you managed, albeit barely.

Instead, all your excitement was taken out on her bandmate, Ethan, the one you got you together in the first place.

While you knew Italian, you weren't that fluent, plus, you didn't know the area in the slightest. You reached out to Ethan about a week before, planning out the best way to surprise Vic. He had cheerfully accepted, and he conjured a good enough plan to not raise any suspicion.

He would pick you up from the airport before an alleged band meeting, take you to Vic' place, where the others would be with her, as a distraction. Conveniently, the apartment was only 2 minutes away from yours, so you could drop off your stuff before you'd surprise her.

It was a simple plan. You had got this.

The plane ride was interesting.

You tried to act all normal while talking to Vic, trying to not make her suspicious, not sending her any messages that would reveal your plans.

It seemed that Ethan had planned ahead and managed to collect your new apartement's keys to save time.

Every thought in your mind was Vic. Everything you saw reminded you of Vic. Every atom in the universe seemed to be Vic.

You were so excited it was unbearable.

The plane finally landed.

If it weren't for the flight assistants you would have already ran to the luggage claim.

Every second you were in Italy and you weren't with Vic was terrible.

It didn't help that you sat at the end of the plane, but at least your bags were quick to show.

You ran, literally, out of the building, trying to spot the long haired man that would lead you to your love.

He was relatively easy to spot, not a lot of adults sport a back's length head of black hair.

He seemed understanding and was quick to help your stuff in the car, trying to waste as little time as possible.

On your way, you were rambling to him about how exciting this was, how much you loved Vic and so on.

He politely smiled at you when you talked, nodding whenever you made a pause.

Obviously, your Italian was not that good, and his English wasn't that good either, but it seemed your excitement was contagious.

" I can't wait for Vic to see you. She'll be so happy." he said, parking the car outside the building.

You took your stuff, and the keys from Ethan, quickly going upstairs to leave your stuff while Ethan parked his car, somewhere.

When you came back down, he was waiting for you, texting someone on his phone. You nodded at him when you caught his eye, and followed him to Vic's place.

You fumbled with your hands while walking, trying to calm your nerves before meeting her.

It was a futile attempt, clearly buzzing with excitement while going up to her apartment.

You took a few deep breaths, before finally knocking on the door. Ethan stood further back, leaving a distance for when Victoria quite literally crushed you with a hug- he'd know.

The door finally opened, and everything happened so quickly.

When Vic's eyes locked with yours, her hands instantly flew to her mouth with excitement. She took a few steps back, asking something in muffled italian, which you assumed was something along the lines of 'oh my god, why didn't you tell me'.

She then jump-hugged you, straddling your waist with her legs while her hands locked around your neck. You hugged back with as much vigor, excitedly moving in circles around yourselves.

" You're here!" She exclaimed, tears in her eyes.

" Why are you here?" she then asked, trying to contain her excitement.

You giggled with her reaction, moving one of your hands to wipe her tears.

" Because of you, Dumbass!"

She buried her face in your neck, trying to calm her shaky breathing, and happy sobs.

You shushed her, running a hand up and down her back to calm her.

You didn't expect such a strong reaction, and her excitement brought tears to your own eyes.

You turned to look at the others, all of which were smiling at you two.

The one you recognised as Damiano was the only one to talk.

" She really needed this," he said, punching his open palm softly.

" She had gotten herself really stressed, and this surprise really will help."

You smiled at him, mouthing a 'thank you'.

Victoria's head emerged from where she had nestled by your neck, kissing you softly on the lips.

" How long are you going to stay?" she asked, smiling wide at you.

" Forever." You replied, kissing her cheek.

She shot you a puzzled look, tilting her head.

" Forever?" she asked shakingly, tears threatening to spill from her eyes again.

" Yeah. For ever." you repeated, looking at Vic.

" You- wait, you mean you- you aren't leaving?" she said, being confused by your reply.

" Never leaving your side, min elskede (my love)."

She let out a happy yelp, her hands on your cheeks and pulling you in for a kiss.

You let her back down from where she had hugged you, guiding her to sit on the couch.

" You aren't, really?" she asked again, trying to believe it.

" Don't worry, you'll have me in your hair for a long while." you said smiling, and Vic just pulled you down to her height, kissing you again.

[its-afucking-mess]

A Pleasant surprise at home

Thomas x reader smut part 2: electric boogaloo

prompt: thomas gets off in your hoodie and you watch

(feel like i should mention that the mommy kink is cause i can, and it adds a bit to the story, sorry nb babes and men :>)

tagging @icouldbeyourpuppet for encouraging this

Masterlist :)

______ 

It doesn't usually get cold in Rome, but during some instances, the weather likes to drop below the 10s (C).

Luckily, as a person who gets cold easily, you have hundreds of large hoodies in your closet, all perfect for wearing when it gets cold.

Now, your boyfriend Thomas, he doesn't really have any.

You'd think the famous guitarist would have some comfortable warm clothes amongst his designer fits, but they were nowhere to be found.

Coincidentally, it just so happened your own hoodies piled up in the wash basket much more often than you remember.

And it wasn't hard to put 2 and 2 together. Thomas took advantage of the fact your hoodies were large, and wore them as well.

It didn't really bother you, even if laundry had to be done earlier and more often.

During the coldest winter days, you always caught sight of your boyfriend walking around the apartement wearing your hoodie and his guitar.

In most cases, it was adorable, his sleepy figure just walking around with sweater paws and various hot drinks in hand.

He didn't hide it anymore either, walking in while you were studying and hugging you from behind when he was bored, watching you work while he fidgeted with it.

While you were out running errands, your phone was ringing like crazy, messages from friends and family flooding your notifications. Most were about meeting up for a coffee, or visiting abroad for vacation.

All the phone calls you made and texts you answered really ate up your time, your short trip to do work being pushed to run until late in the afternoon.

The weather was still quite chilly, so walking in your apartment came with a sigh of relief, your face warming up from the radiator running.

There was unusual silence, making you think Thomas was probably asleep. You set down the stuff you were holding, shrugging off your coat and putting your shoes by the door.

Walking to your shared room, you were expecting to see Thomas asleep on the bed, probably curled up in one of your hoodies.

The thought itself made you warm, walking slowly to the room, careful not to make noise. 

To say you weren't prepared to see what you saw would be an understatement. 

You did find Thomas, laying down with his back on the bed, in one of your favourite hoodies, stroking himself.

Your feet came to an abrupt halt, and you immediately walked back out of the room.

That was a sight to remember.

Carefully, you leaned over the door frame  back in the room.

Thomas' eyes were closed and his hand movements slow. His mouth was slightly agape, quiet moans falling from his mouth.

Turning off your phone with a smirk, you slowly walked in the room fully and knelt on the bed, right in front of him.

The mattress shifted at the new weight, catching Thomas' attention.

His eyes widened with embarrassment at seeing you, quickly shifting to a sitting position, putting his legs in front of him.

You let out a small chuckle at that.

" Well, well. What do we have here?" you said, voice suddenly deeper than before.

You saw Thomas gulp.

" I'm waiting." you stated at his long silence, an assertive tone in your voice.

" Um-," he started, scrambling to find words to explain. 

" Well- I- You weren't- I didn't-"

It took him a while to express himself, but you were impatient.

" Was my baby touching himself while I was gone?" You said with a pout, your hand trailing up his thigh. While waiting for his response, you started to slowly stroke his cock, picking up pace quickly.

His mouth fell open slightly, eyes closing from the sudden friction.

" Was he wearing my clothes too?" You asked, holding the cloth of the neckline with your other hand.

Your hand movements slowed to almost a stop, earning a small whimper of complaint from the other.

" I want you to answer me, pup."

Thomas weakly nodded, head hanging low.

" I'm sorry, Y/N." He just answered, trying to thrust up your hand.

" Sorry what?" You said, squeezing your hand around his base, and using the other to hold his hips down on the bed.

" Sorry mommy." he mumbled, cheeks flushing red. You smiled sweetly, resuming your hand.

His head flew back, a barely audible moan falling from his mouth. 

You continued to work for a bit, before removing your hands and getting off the bed.

He looked at you with a pleading and inquiring look, cocking his head to the side.

" Do you want something baby?" you ask, acting completely oblivious. Sitting down on the stool by the foot of the bed, you looked back at him, your head tilted to the side as well.

A whine of desperation left his throat, his lips forming a pout as he readjusted himself on the bed.

You stayed in your place, unmoving, looking at your baby.

" Do you?" You ask, your tone sharp.

He looked down at his lap, then back up at you.

" I want you," he said quietly.

" You have to speak up, darling." You said, fully aware of what he said.

Thomas let out a frustrated noise.

" I want you," he looked at you with puppy eyes.

" What do you want from me baby?"

He pointed down at his crotch.

" I want you to touch me," he said. " Please, mommy?"

You swallowed, your arousal finally getting to you. You didn't give up the attitude, though.

" It seemed you were doing perfectly fine on your own before, pup. What do you need me for?"

It was borderline sadistic.

" It feels better when you do it." He said, moving closer to the foot of the bed.

" Well, why did you do it by yourself before?" He remained silent. " Pretty sure you can do it yourself now too."

He looked at you with pleading eyes.

" Can I?" He finally caved in, shifting back to the head board.

" Sure, go on," you got up, sitting on the armchair by the bed, laying back on it " Touch yourself for me, pup."

His face lit up at your words, his hand going back to his cock.

His hand quickly picked up a fast pace, wasting no time to bring himself to the edge.

Moans were spilling out of his pretty mouth, and you watched him intently, enjoying the view.

Soon enough, his legs seemed to start shaking, and by the way he sped up his movements more and threw his head back, that he was getting close.

" Stop." You said, staring right at him.

His hand stilled, his hips bucking up on their own accord.

He turned at you, his eyes begging.

" Good boy." you said, getting up to give him a soft kiss.

His little whimper didn't go unnoticed, you cherished it to its fullest.

" Such a good boy for mommy." He whimpered again, louder this time.

You shushed him, bringing him in for another kiss. His lips eagerly followed yours, hesitantly pulling back when you did.

You left a small kiss on the end of his jawline, slowly kissing down to his neck.

Sucking little marks, you were looking for the places that made him come undone under your touch.

All while working on his neck, filling it with love bites, he remained still, not daring to move against your will.

His little whines and whimpers filled the room, his hands grabbing on everything around him but his cock.

You smirked at his needy-ness, and it just made you wonder how long ago he had started.

Leaving a final mark, right where the collar of the hoodie started, you pulled back completely.

His body tried to follow your lips, but your hands kept him grounded on the bed.

" Please." he half-whispered, grabbing on the sleeve of your shirt.

" You can do way, way better than that, pup."

That seemed to be the final stroke for him.

" Please, please, please ! Mommy please let me touch myself, please! I've been so good all this time, please." he said, his hands pulling on your arms, being on the verge of tears.

You waited for a moment, considering his pleas.

" You know, Thomas," you started, unnecessarily bringing his hopes up. " I don't think you've earned it. You've done better in the past."

Tears of frustration fell from his eyes, while small "please" 's filled the room.

You shook your head, petting his hair.

" Please let me cum, please mommy, I promise I'll go down on you three times if you do, I promise." He said, and that caught your attention.

You considered his offer, finally deciding on letting him.

" Alright, I'll let you." 

Thomas started saying 'thank you' 's needily pawing at your shirt.

" You can touch yourself Thomas. Go on, make yourself cum for me, for mommy."

His look was ecstatic, his hands leaving your own, back down on his weeping cock. 

The head had turned red, you noticed now the hoodie was out of the way, and it was leaking precum.

Thomas' moans were quite loud, incoherent words being thrown around, mostly curses, you assumed. 

Thomas was really close, and you could tell. His thighs were shaking like crazy, and his moans were not only really loud, but pitched too.

He squeezed around his cock harder and fucked himself through his orgasm, back arching off the bed. He spilled over into his hand and your hoodie, his own cum slicking the way for his dick. He groaned deep in his throat and tilted his head back, eyes falling shut.

He laid there for a moment, his chest heaving as the aftershocks rolled through him. 

His pants filled the room, and he fully fell back on the bed, closing his eyes.

You walked up to him, wiping his hair away from his sweaty face, trying to help him cool down. You spent the moments it took him to come down from his high brushing through his hair, massaging his head slowly. 

When he had fully calmed down, he shifted under your touch.

" All good?" you asked, seeing a look of discomfort on his face.

" I feel gross." he said, sitting up next to you.

You smiled sweetly at him, pulling the stained hoodie over his head, haphazardly folding it, and throwing it in the hamper.

" Want me to pull you a bath?"

He nodded, slowly getting up with you and walking to the bathroom.

You turned on the warm water, letting it run to fill the bathtub.

You stood next to him by the door, kissing his shoulder affectionately.

He rubbed his hand up and down your back.

" Mommy's good boy." you whispered, smiling up at him.

[its-afucking-mess]

Un-Othodox (Chapter 4)

wow! more damiano x reader

shocker

more stuffs

taglist ueue : @icouldbeyourpuppet , @mywritingonlyfans , @cheese-toastie-11 , @iveneverbeenmorestressedinmylife , @oro-e-diamanti , @illicitfuck , @lasciatemi-stare , @sofckinelectric , @juststalking

________________________

Damiano’s bed was surprisingly comfortable.

Laying down next to him was actually much better than laying on cold, wet grass.

Who would have thought?

The air smelled of nicotine constantly, even when you first walked in. It shouldn’t be a comforting scent, but it was. Comfort was a given when you were together, the atmosphere in the room being relaxed and calm. The only sound was the random sighs or dramatic inhales of smoke, followed by giggles.

It was like everything related to smoking was connected to Damiano. The warmth, the relaxation, the satisfaction of a craving.

It was like everything related to comfort was connected to Damiano.

Damiano’s hand found your shoulder, pausing your thoughts.

You turned to face him. He didn’t say anything.

For a bit, you were just gazing into each other’s eyes.

He smiled.

“ You alright?” he asked, moving his hand to move some stray hairs in your eyes.

“ ‘m tired.” you said, sounding strained.

He pet your cheek.

“ You can rest if you want.” His hand moved to your head.

You felt the mattress under you shift, and suddenly Damiano wasn’t next to you anymore. You felt hands caressing your head slowly.

Was this heaven? Had you died?

You could hear him giggle from behind you. You rolled your eyes.

There was really no way you could resist falling asleep when someone was playing with your hair, let alone Damiano playing with your hair.

“ Gods, did you not manage to sleep at all? I was sure you’d get at least 3 hours in.” he commented, his hands working on detangling some of your hair.

You just whined, stretching.

“ I see” he commented, his hands now on your shoulders, kneading the muscle there.

You sighed in content,moving a bit higher to aid him. Your head was fully in his lap now, it didn’t seem to bother him though.

You looked up at him. It was certainly a new, interesting angle, but he was still stunning pretty from it.

He looked down at you, offering a wide smile as he continued to work on your shoulders. It was a perfect chance to talk.

“ Aren’t your friends here?” you asked. Damiano momentarily stopped his movements. He looked down at you confused.

“ The friends,” you sat up to sit properly and face him. “ The two blonds. From your posts.”

He furrowed his brows as he tried to understand.

“ Oh,” His face lit up. “ Victoria and Thomas. No, they aren’t here.”

“ Privilege.” you said. Damiano laughed.

“ They don’t really have anyone pushing them to go to some sort of Christian camp.”

He cracked his thumb.

“ As much as I’d love their company, I didn’t want them to be here too. It is quite boring after all.” he explained.

You nodded in understanding.

“ Who’s pushing you here?” you asked, playing with the hem of your dress.

“ It certainly isn’t your parents.” Damiano shot you a confused look. You pointed at his nose piercing. He snorted.

“ Yeah, it’s my grandma.” He fidgeted with one of the overall straps.

“ My old camp, it was near her house. This year she was housing her sister and she sent me here.” You tilted your head.

“ I thought I could just avoid it, I am 17 after all. But, I wanted to just go for her.” He brushed a strand of hair and tucked it behind his ear.

“ She isn’t doing it to hurt anyone,” he continued. “ Besides, I can rebel all I want here, they don’t know her and they certainly won’t see me again.”

You smiled, looking down at your lap, where you had folded your dress.

“ Why are you here?” he asked, also focused on the folding work on the hem of your dress. You sighed.

“ My parents. At some point someone from Greece came here and started a family, and decided to stay orthodox.” Damiano looked curiously.

“ So, flash forward to now, my parents found this camp when I was four. They sent me straight away, and I’ve spent my summers here ever since.”

There was some sort of nostalgia bubbling up as you remembered your first years here.

“ After I turned, like, 13, I stopped enjoying the camp that much. I just went for a few other kids I hung out with.”

Damiano nodded, tilting his head to his right.

“ Then, when I found out that those friends would stop going I wanted to stop too, but ‘No, we have to preserve our faith’ and other bullshit.” You intertwined your hands together.

“ And now we’re here.”

Damiano’s hands found your intertwined ones, splitting them from each other.

“ That must suck.” He traced the lines inside of your palm. “ I’ve never actually interacted with anyone that has religious parents. Most people are just forced by their grandparents.” You nodded, watching him caress the outside of your hands.

“ It does. But, less than a year left.” you said, intertwining your thumbs together. “ You best believe when I turn 18 I'll be out of there.” Damiano laughed.

“ You better.”

You smiled at him, his gaze loving. You could easily melt right now.

Damiano un-linked your thumbs, instead holding the outside of your palm softly and slowly brushing the inside of your wrist with his thumb.

You could understand his love language was touch, and it didn’t bother you in the slightest.

“ How did you meet Victoria and Thomas?” you asked, mirroring his hand movements.

He pursed his lips.

“ Same school. We all do music. And have very similar music tastes.” He smiled at the memories.

“ I’m sure you all are very close.” You matched his smile, and hopefully his energy.

“ We are.” he said, lightly scratching your open palms with his nails.

“ I’m supposed to have favourites, but Victoria especially is very close to me.”

You laughed.

“ Tch, picking favourite siblings? Shame on you.” you teased him. He snorted.

“ I’m not! I’m just saying that I feel-”

“ Picking favourites. How could you?” you continued, mock hurt. Damiano rolled his eyes.

“ Are you go-”

“ Horrible. Such a horrible person. I can’t believe it.” Damiano pouted when you cut him off again.

Puppy eyes.

Resist.

“ Truly disgusting, Damiano. I mea-”

This time he cut you off, putting his hand over your mouth. The force of his hand pushed you over on the bed, with Damiano almost straddling your thighs.

If only he was a bit closer.

You tried to move under his hand, but he had the beneficial position. Wherever you moved was really easy for him to follow.

His other hand was on your side, giving him support as he continued to not take his hand off. The way he moved around to match your movements moved his hand around too, and it tickled.

Muffled laughter filled the room, and after Damiano realised, he purposefully attacked your sides, tickling you until you couldn’t breathe. Your eyes were collecting tears and you felt lightheaded from laughing. Your hands were trapped under him as he moved closer and was practically sitting on your lap now, and you were freaking ou-

Damiano’s movements stilled and his head snapped towards the door. You raised your head to see what was happening and-

“ There they are.” Some kids from the Catholic camp were behind the door.

The way you both had been caught certainly didn’t leave much to the imagination.

You looked like you were going to fuck.

On Damiano’s bed.

In a Christian camp.

Beautiful.

You hoped they didn’t know anything about sex.

“ Hey Michael.” Damiano said, his voice strained.

“ Dami, we are going for lunch. The nuns sent us to find you.”

You let go of the breath you were holding.

“ Yeah, me and Y/n will be right out. We were just-”

“ Fighting.” you jumped in. “ I stole Dami’s phone and he wanted it back.”

The two boys at the door nodded.

Damiano got off of you, grabbing his shirt and hat from the hanger, as you ran your hands down your dress to flatten some creases.

“ Let’s go. Michael, John. You lead, we follow.”

The two started walking ahead, and you Damiano followed close behind.

“ Imagine having to explain that to a nun.” He said, fixing the way the hat sat on his head.

“ Oh yeah we’d be six feet under already.” you commented, brushing your hair out with your fingers.

Damiano laughed.

You followed the little boys to this outdoor area with picnic tables.

Each seat had a plate and cutlery, and most kids were already seated.

You scoffed.

“ This place is so much nicer over-all. Our place looks prehistoric.”

Damiano exhaled a laugh.

“ Come on, I see two seats there.” he said, pointing at two seats facing each other. There was also a third, empty seat next to one of the two.

Damiano sat down next to the empty seat, probably waiting for you to sit next to him. You sat right across.

He looked at you confused.

“ It’s more romantic this way.” you said, giggling.

Damiano shrugged with a smile.

There were few empty seats in the open space, and by the looks of it you all were waiting for all of the missing campers.

Slowly, more kids appeared, choosing the seats closer by the little gate entrance to avoid attention.

While waiting, you had a proper look around the area.

Now, in an open space where everyone is splayed out and not crammed together, it was clear who was from which camp.

For starters, the Catholic camp kids were older, around the ages of 12 to 14. Then, they wore lighter coloured clothes. They looked like an organised elementary school choir. The kids from your camp wore all sorts of colours, and they wore dresses. The other camp allowed pants too, and judging from looking around the area, knee length was the shortest for all genders.

“ What do you even eat here?” you asked, trying to discreetly see what the people in charge had planned.

Damiano deadpanned.

“ Food?” He looked at you like you were crazy for asking. “ Do they feed you wood chips or something?”

You forced out a laugh at his sarcasm.

“ I meant what type of food. Like, soups? Meat? Salad only?”

Damiano’s expression didn’t change.

“ Just answer me,” you said, a smile creeping up on your face. Damiano grinned.

“ So far, it's been salad with some sort of meat or fish.”

You nodded.

The last bunch of kids walked in, seeing all empty seats filling up quickly. The seat next to Damiano was occupied by a random boy from his camp. He looked disinterested in this get-together.

The sound of metal against glass caught everyone's attention, bringing it to the head of the Catholic camp. Damiano said his name was George

“ I hope all greeted our guests warmly.” He spoke, voice steady, speech practiced.

“ It isn’t often we have the chance, or facilities to house this many kids at once. It was a decision between me and Father Mark, to expand your education, and help you understand the differences between our religions, as well learn to respect all kinds of religion.”

Father Mark waved and nodded along Father George’s words.

“ This humble lunch was prepared by the kitchen staff of <Virgin Mary’s Catholic camp>, with great regard to taste, allowing everyone to enjoy this meal.”

You locked eyes with Damiano.

“ It’s pasta, isn’t it?” you mouthed, and he replied with a nod, mouthing “ Probably”.

“ One table at a time, you are requested to get up to get your serving of this delicious pasta the staff conjured up.” He smiled wide, motioning for the first table from the left to start getting up.

You sat near the right, but not the furthest right. It would be a while until your turn, but it wasn’t that big of a bother.

The tables before you slowly but surely emptied and got filled again, with kids of many ages shoving pasta eagerly in their mouths.

Great manners, people.

The turn of your table came, and kids excitedly got up to sit in line, as the nuns served each and every one. From the corner of your eye, there didn’t really seem much to the pasta. It would be disappointing to a point if the pasta was just water-boiled, no sauce or flavour what-so-ever, but it was lunch.

You made the front of the line, finally having a good look at your options.

The pasta seemed plain, but cheese was complementary. You let the nun serve you, nodding when she asked if you wanted cheese.

After lightly dusting the plate with half a kilo of what you guessed was parmesan, you sat back down, Damiano on your foot.

You looked down at the dish. Then up at Damiano.

“ Go big or go home I guess.” you commented, grabbing a fork.

Damiano exhaled a laugh.

“ I mean, do you prefer plain, white pasta?”

You shook your head. He raised his brows.

The tables were silent while eating, random chatting happening in the tables.

The pasta was acceptable, not the best but not the worst either.

It was quite a quick meal, and skipping prayer was the best part of it. The ‘organizers’ thought it was too much work to do both, so they decided to not at all.

Respectful decision.

Father George spoke again.

“ You are all dismissed.”

The tables slowly emptied, one kid after another leaving from the small gate.

“ Don’t forget! Today is all about making bonds!”

You got up, waiting for Damiano. He offered his hand, kneeling forward.

You accepted with an eye-roll, following the crowd outside of the dining area.

“ Wanna go back to my room?” he asked, looking around and scanning the possible seating areas.

“ Actually,” You remembered the old hideout. “ I have another idea.”

Damiano looked at you intrigued.

“ Do you have any blanks? (rolling paper for joints)”

His eyes lit up.

“ I like where this is going.”

_________-

(part 3) / (part 5)

[its-afucking-mess]

Un-Orthodox (Chapter 6)

*hands you this*

More works

Taglist: @icouldbeyourpuppet , @mywritingonlyfans , @cheese-toastie-11 , @oro-e-diamanti , @sofckinelectric , @illicitfuck , @lasciatemi-stare , @juststalking

(friendly reminded that if you want to be in the taglist for this series and other future projects, dont hesitate to send an ask)

_________

Your mannerisms on the lunch table were good enough to raise suspicion.

The nuns continued to shoot nasty looks towards your direction, probably discussing how you were acting “away from god’s path.”

Oh boy if only they knew.

It was talks like those that really pushed you to drop any sort of religion ever.

You didn’t really bother to eat a lot (not that it tasted nice anyway), only God knew what Damiano had planned for the day. With a passive-aggressive smile, you handed in your plate, excusing yourself to your room to ‘rest’.

Yeah right, rest your ass.

If they see you in that room anytime soon then you’re a reincarnation of Jesus.

It wasn’t hard to sneak out the camp, not in the slightest.

Your mind cut back to those girls who wanted to get out. Your heart went out to them, but there wasn’t a chance you’d help them with that anytime soon.

Damiano’s contact was on your screen, ready to call him when you got out of the building. You got rid of that obnoxious dress, throwing it carelessly on the sand out in front of the housing building.

You had set to meet in the little green area between the camps. From there, you’d find the place to sneak out of, then Damiano would lead you to wherever he saw fit.

It was one of your favourite things about him, how spontaneous he is. You doubt he doesn’t pass by a tattoo parlor without physically stopping to consider getting one.

As you reached the area, you called him, picking up after 3 rings.

“ I’m here.”

“ I know.”

You looked around you, but he was nowhere to be found.

“ Behind the trees, smartass.”

Indeed, behind the trees, and behind the railings, Damiano stood there, phone in hand. He waved at you with his free one.

“ I told you I had this planned out.” He hung up, pocketing his phone.

You did the same, running in his direction.

He smiled at you, offering a hand so you could climb out. You scoffed.

“ Please, I’ve been dreaming of this for ages. You act like I didn’t practice this daily.” His hand didn’t move.

“ Safety first.” he said, but you purposefully avoided his hand. He took a step back, raising his hands in the air.

With a cocky smile, you climbed up the bars with ease. The climbing down was the hard part.

You tried to climb down as you were, back to the railing, but it almost caused you to fall. Lucky for you, your arms, and Damiano’s hands, kept you up.

“ Safety first.” he repeated.

You shot him a death glare, stepping down on the concrete.

“ Your lead.” You adjusted your shorts that shifted during the climb. Damiano pursed his lips.

As he thought, you got to look at him properly.

This man is a fucking model, by the worrying amounts of clothes he has and how rediculously pretty he was.

You really didn’t see how long leather pants and a white, tight and slightly cropped shirt said “Fucking shit up” but each to their own.

“ This way,” he said, pulling you by the wrist. He was the one familiar with the area, he said it himself that he lived around here.

It was quite a pretty area, being a forest surrounding a big lake. The area was mostly known for the watersport events it did, so pretty much it was a virgin land. No millions of houses surrounding the lake or climbing up the mountain. Just plain lake, trees and mountains.

An odd, surreal beauty. Nighttime did it the most justice.

You jolted suddenly when Damiano pulled you to a halt, pulling you out of your thoughts. If the car honking was any indicator, you were about to walk straight through a road.

There was so much to admire about the preservation of the landscape, fauna and flora or whatever.

Fuck the scientifics of this. The area was pretty. And pretty areas make happy thoughts.

It was a shame this area was mostly connected to the shitty camp, not to some epic camping adventure with your friends.

“ So, where do you live?” You looked ahead, seeing a small cluster of houses appear.

“ Somewhere here,” he said, looking around.

“ I don’t normally come this way.” he explained himself, pulling you close behind.

The houses out here resembled old cabins.

It was half expected. What else would the houses in the middle of the woods look like?

Most of the ones you passed seem to have been renovated in some way, it was obvious which people chose to make their houses into 5 star AirBnBs, and who had them as homes to visit over the holidays.

You finally seemed to find what you were looking for.

Damiano had stopped in front of a house that didn’t really match the style of the others. Granted, it was further from the woods, and closer to the cliffs that lead to the lake. Any form of architecture with rocks in the walls was a serious achievement and hours of hard, painstaking work that paid off 90% of the time.

“ Well. It is the holiday home,” he sighed. “ Hope mum won’t mind.” he said, pushing the gate open.

It was a fairly pretty house, at least from the exterior. Not that you doubted the interior looked nice, but from outside, it looked castle-y.

Maybe because the fencing was proper walls instead of rickety forestwood tied together, or random scraps of chicken wire assorted to create some sort of fence.

“ It looks really pretty.” you commented, still star-struck over it. Damiano giggled.

“ The key should be somewhere here, hopefully.”

As he worked out where his parents kept the second key to the house, you slowly made your way to the back garden.

It was smaller, this side had no need for car space.

There was a small lounge set in the back, a couch and two single chairs facing a rectangular, glass table.

As if this couldn’t get more stereotypical ‘white family outdoor retreat’. Only thing missing was the screaming toddlers and parents that fight over any small inconvenience.

The space next to the chairs was empty, just a few square meters of messy grass and neatly trimmed bushes in wooden flower beds. The uncut grass just made the home look more cosy, more lived in.

“ Found it!” Damiano’s voice echoed in the air, breaking the ambient silence. You didn’t respond, instead walking towards the end of the fence. The walls were beautifully decorated with an assortment of light fixtures hanging off of the sills. Most had lamps in them, but those by the exit gate were candle lit.

You felt hands around your waist. Then a chin rest on the top of your head.

“ Admiring the work?” he asked, slightly unarticulated because of the restraint on his chin.

You smiled softly.

“ It is admirable.” You turned to face him. “ Great work.”

He exhaled a laugh.

“ Let’s go inside, we have some plans to make.”

Reluctantly, you followed inside, from the now open back doors.

Were you really staring at the walls for so long?

You sat down on a stool by the kitchen counter, Damiano sitting next to you and offering a glass of water.

You gratefully accepted, sipping a bit.

“ What’s the plan, captain?” you asked sarcastically. He glared at you and you blew him a kiss.

“ We can leave the area and go to the shopping district easily, my dad’s old bike is in the back.” He pointed to the door that led to a storage room.

“ There we can fuck around. Restock on stuff here, cigarettes, drinks, food,” he listed.

He then paused to look up at you from his phone.

“ There’s this piercing and tattoo place there too.” He smiled mischievously. You playfully hit his upper arm.

“ As much as I’d love to, they aren’t that easy to hide.”

His smile grew wider.

“ Depends where you get it, bella.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. That earned him a shove.

“ Where the fuck will I get a piercing-”

At this point he looked like a creep, smiling so wide.

“ There, is no way, in hell, in heaven, in whatever the fuck, that I will get a,”

“ Nipple piercing.” you both said at the same time.

He pouted.

“ Why not? It is rebellious, isn’t it?” he asked. You sighed.

“ It’s just; doesn’t it hurt a lot?”

He shrugged. You bit your lip.

“ A labret would suit you,” he said. You looked at him confused.

“ It goes here.” he said, running his fingers vertically across the middle of your bottom lip. You raised your brows

“ I’m just suggesting.” he said, raising his hands. You scratched your arm.

“ What did you have in mind when you said you wanted to fuck shit up and go against your parents?” he asked, grabbing a possibly stale cookie from those round tins.

“ Honestly, I had no plan.” You sighed. “ I thought spontaneity would get me through it.

He chewed slowly.

“ It still can,” he said. “ But you have to let yourself be spontaneous, first.”

You cracked your knuckles. Damiano’s face scrunched up in discomfort.

“ Squeamish much.” you murmured, now your turn to be shoved.

It had been about half an hour since you left. You had a lot of time in your hands.

“ See, I had a bucket list for before I turned 18.” you reminisced.

“ My mum, she threw it away.” You looked down at your lap. “ I had ‘Get a tattoo’ on it. She didn’t like it that much.”

Damiano licked his lips.

“ Do- do you happen to remember any of the other ones?”

You tried to think carefully, but nothing.

“ Nothing.” you said, disappointed.

“ Some sort of picture maybe?” he asked, pointing at your phone.

“ I didn’t have this phone then,” You unlocked it. “ Only way would be if it transferred from my old phone.”

Damiano raised his shoulders.

“ Worth a try.”

You both went through your phone’s storage carefully. You had your eye out for anything that resembled a list.

“ I remember I’d named it ‘The fuck-it list.’” you said. Damiano snickered.

“ I’d learn new words too, but I wouldn’t go out of my way to do that.” You laughed.

A blurry list was near the end of your pictures, dating back 4 years ago.

“ If it is in here, it’s this.” You zoomed in, making out a few lines.

You read it out to Damiano.

Get a tattoo

“ We can try,” he said. “ If I can be your guardian.” You slapped his thigh.

Drink wine (or beer)

“ Check, that happened last night,” he said excitedly.

Pierce a second hole in my ear

He examined your ear.

“ I can count 3. Check.” You giggled.

Kiss someone

“ Not yet.” you said, and Damiano’s jaw fell to the floor. He tried to make you kiss him to check it off.

Maybe fall in love? A relationship?

You’re madly in love, sweety.

“ Not yet.” He let that one go.

Steal dad’s cigarettes and try them

You exchanged a glance, silently ticking it off.

Dress like that cool lady from the mall (mum called her an emo freak)

“ God, emo and goth are such cool styles. I still need to do that.” Damiano agreed.

DYE MY HAIR PINK

You looked at your reflection in the window. Just plain hair. No fun colour.

“ I wanted to dye my hair blue for so long.” Damiano admitted. “ It was really bad, good thing my mum didn’t allow me it.”

You smiled, envisioning 13-year-old Damiano begging his mum for a colour job.

Those were the only ones that you could make out from the 40 item list, written in messy chicken scratch, typical of a 13-year-old.

It would take a while to decipher the other ones.

“ Well, we have enough for the day.” He sat up, putting the glasses in the sink.

“ What do you mean?” You spun around to face him.

He deadpanned.

“ We have the tattoo, and maybe make an appointment for a dye job if we find a place.” he said, putting on a leather jacket, and throwing one in your direction.

“ Wait, you’re serious?” You got up from the stool.

He nodded.

“ And your parents are paying for it all.” he said, opening the door to the storage room. You stayed frozen in place.

The journey has to start in some way.

The district wasn’t far from the house. It had a few people lurking, doing their shopping and catching up with friends over a coffee and some pastries.

Damiano pulled you to one of the alleyways.

“ Let’s try with the tattoo first, ‘cause the hair will for certain want an appointment.”

You nodded along to his words.

“ If we find a place,” you murmured.

He swiftly navigated the streets, holding tight on your wrist.

You pretended you weren’t shaking under that leather jacket.

It was a lifelong aspiration to do something that goes against your parents. Just, the reality of it, going from goody-two-shoes to someone who might have pink hair by the end of the week, was kind of intimidating.

You tried to focus on how liberated you’d feel after the deed was done.

The tattoo parlor came in view, and your knees almost gave out.

Your mind was perfectly okay with the idea of a tattoo, but your body was protesting. It felt like your stomach was screeching.

Damiano noticed the sudden discomfort. He stopped walking.

“ You alright?”

You nodded. He tilted his head in worry.

“ Just nerves. It isn’t some exam at school or something.”

He nodded, biting the inside of his cheek. His hand left your wrist, going in your own.

“ We can go in, whenever you are ready.”

You silently uttered a thank you as you calmed your nerves. It was really a matter of getting your stomach to stop doing backflips.

After a couple of deep breaths, you started walking towards the door. Damiano looked at you as you picked up your pace again, staying still.

“ It’s now or never, right?”

Damiano nodded with a warm smile, and you both walked in the store, hand in hand.

A couple design discussions, anatomy lessons and many deep breaths, you were sitting- or laying, actually- painfully still as the artist started the work.

After a lot of consideration, you decided on getting something colourful on your shoulder. An assortment of flowers, from the end of your collarbone to shoulder.

It was like a string of fairy lights, very discreet and small. ‘Perfect for a first tattoo, too small for any major pain’ the artist had said.

The lineart of each flower was a different colour, and the connective vine was plain black.

The whole process was really, much more bearable than expected, and Damiano being there for moral support made everything better.

Well, any chance where Damiano would hold your hand and draw shapes on your legs would make anything better.

The session wasn’t more than two hours, and the result was stunning.

That liberating feeling you mentioned before? It finally showed up.

Breathing had never felt free-er.

_______

(part 5) / (part 7)