#thomas raggi imagines

[baddestbittyontheblock]

måneskin fic recs

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

måneskin x reader: blurbs+headcannons+fics

୨୧ 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬

୨୧ 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧

୨୧ a headcanon with må with you being a successful model

-they're wearing earbuds, blasting music into their ears when they remember the they left their phone charger in the bathroom. they don't know you're showering and can't hear you over the music...

୨୧ headcanons with må x fashiondesigner!reader

୨୧ a valentine’s surprise | SMUT, orgy, oral sex, anal play, double penetration, food play, spit play, alcohol  

-You’ve been feeling a little left out in your relationship so your four partners show their love to you with a surprise for Valentine’s Day. 

୨୧ Gettin’ Frisky With The Måneskin Members  | explicit content, gender neutral reader, switch!damiano, hard domme!victoria, vanilla!thomas, sub!ethan, freaky stuff, toys and s/m, oral (both ways), degradation, spit, pain play, brat taming, bondage, sinning cuz rock’n’roll never dies

୨୧ our favourite band with an S/O with bad menstrual periods

| talk abt periods, so dyphoria warning (we'll get back on the totally GN shit tmrw, just filling requests rn), lil bit of swearing and NSFW on Ethan

୨୧ how the members of Måneskin confess their feelings for you måneskin x gn!reader

victoria de angelis

·。🍓 my sweet valentine vic de angelis x fem! reader | Fluff

-Victoria's first Valentine's day celebrating with you is a bit chaotic but turns out better than expected.

·。🍓 date night vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut, fingering, oral (female receiving) and bdsm dynamics

-you and vic go on a date and it ends with fun at the hotel

·。🍓 hush, hush, cucciola. vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut

-you’re were asked to come over and help to calm Vic down after another disagreement during creating new song, and you find just the way to make her happy and peaceful again

·。🍓 pillow talk vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut

-your night trip to the kitchen gets interrupted by a strange noise, the results of your investigation are more pleasant then you could expect.

·。🍓 long stormy night damiano x fem!reader x vic | SMUT!!!, degradation, corruption kink, wax play, knife play, blood play, spanking, bit of fear play, unprotected sex, it’s just wild ok, i wanted to treat y/n

-It’s a last day of your small, a bit disappointing  gateway trip. The big storm is approaching, yet your evening takes an interesting turn when you bump into two hot Italians in the hotel bar

·。🍓 cold breeze, hot cheeks vic de angelis x fem! reader | angst, fluff 

-a rather cold October makes your blood boil as you and Vic attend Ethan's birthday party

·。🍓 i think I wanna hold you, but I'm not sure i'm allowed

vic de angelis x fem! reader | angst with tiny hint of smut

·。🍓 I'll show the  lovin' that you'll never get from a man. vic de angelis x fem! reader | angst, fluff, smut

-your friends finally meet your boyfriend, and even though nothing goes according to the plan, your night ends up being better than you could hope for, thanks to Vic

·。🍓 sweat and good grips vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut

·。🍓 the one with victoria’s boobs. victoria x gn!reader | fluff

-Victoria needs help taping her boobs for an upcoming performance. You get more than you bargained for.

·。🍓 the one where victoria wants to watch victoria x fem!reader x ethan | smut

·。🍓 “OPEN YOUR MOUTH.” victoria x gn!reader | soft smut

-along the lines of The one where victoria is patient.

·。🍓 “YEAH, WELL, IF YOU WEREN’T SO DRUNK MAYBE I WOULD.” vic de angelis x fem! reader

·。🍓 “I KNOW YOU CAN BE LOUDER THAN THAT.” vic de angelis x fem! reader

·。🍓 “GIVE ME ATTENTION.” vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut

·。🍓 say you'll see me again even if it's just in your wildest dreams vic de angelis xfem!reader | fluff, smut

-You're an up-and-coming actress, and Vic's best friend since high school. You have been friends and in love with each other for as long as you can remember. So when you have the chance to be together, it's magical.

·。🍓 baby said vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut

-you've been on a few dates with Victoria and you think things are going really well. You just wish you had known where the night was going beforehand- maybe you would have picked a table with longer tablecloths.

·。🍓 latenight devil vic de angelis x fem! reader

-victoria covers for you after you sneak backstage ahead of a Måneskin gig & invites you into her dressing room for an unusual encounter

·。🍓 forgive me father vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut, basically porn

·。🍓 the ocean's daughter swearing, alcohol consumption, drowning as a metaphor, smut

-while on holiday in italy, an encounter derails your life enough to make you pack up on a whim and move to the very city in which you first saw her — the ocean's daughter.

·。🍓 vic blurb

-doing domestic stuff with Victoria

·。🍓 a threesome with victoria and damiano! damiano x fem!reader x vic | smut

-reader is victoria’s partner and starts to develop a certain ‘obsession’ for dami, until vic decides to fix it.

·。🍓 vic de angelis fic victoria de angelis x fem!reader

-y/n is the other female member of the band, who has had feelings for vic for a while now, but was too nervous to say anything. one night after a concert in new york changes that after the bassist overhears a conversation between damiano and y/n.

·。🍓 thorns victoria de angelis x fem!reader | Mentions of smoking. Mentions of panic. Swearing.

-victoria meets her ex-girlfriend (Ava). The unplanned “date” upsets her and she decides to drink and smoke to cope. When she wakes up in the morning her best friend Y/N (who she also happens to have a crush on) is there to try and reason with her. 

·。🍓 lucid victoria de angelis x fem!reader

-It started with a spilled drink and ended with a clumsy kiss on the dance floor. A night out with friends takes an unexpected turn when you bump into the one person that's been on your mind for the better part of a year- the same stranger who stole both your chapstick and your heart.

·。🍓 nightmares victoria de angelis x fem!reader | A description of a nightmare. Other than that all is fluff and comfort.

-When Y/N has a terrifying nightmare and wakes up screaming, Victoria is there to comfort her.

·。🍓 kisses and cake vic de angelis x reader | very fluffy, a little spicy

·。🍓 vic blurb vic de angelis x reader

-being in a punk band and having vic feature in a show (you know like thomas recently did with starcrawler) and her doing her scissoring thing on top of me and then when she extends and after extending a hand to help me up and pulling me into a very gay gay gay kiss smearing her lipstick on my lipstick and leaving a big lipstick stain on my cheek as well

·。🍓 birthday wish victoria de angelis x fem!reader | smut

-little birthday blurb

·。🍓 church crush vic de angelis x reader | kinky as kink abba; innocent/corruption kink, and idk, sacrilege?

-good girl!reader having a massive obsession on a not-so-good girl from her church.

·。🍓 proficiency test victoria de angelis x gn!reader | a bit of swearing + one (1) explicit and one (1) implicit mention of sex + i'm very much projecting (who doesn't) + shitty german

-vic decides to help you study. chaos ensues.

·。🍓 coming home victoria de angelis x fem!reader

-vic has had a long day but coming home to you lifts the uneasiness from her shoulders and she vocalizes just how lucky she feels that you are in her life.

·。🍓 because of you idiot! victoria de angelis x gn!reader | angst(I guess), romantic fluff

-Victoria suddenly comes distance, and you try to find out why.

·。🍓 fluffy blurb vic de angelis x reader

-(it's something about getting matching tattoos with vic)

·。🍓 fuffly/smut with victoria victoria de angelis x fem!reader

-fluffy morning/half smut with victoria. nipples playing.

·。🍓 your camera roll while dating vic vic de angelis x reader | fluff, smut

·。🍓 knowing your worth vic x fem/gn! reader | hurt, comfort

-Vic is there for you after a conflict with your parents.

·。🍓 the first happiest birthday vic de angelis x reader | fluff

·。🍓 crawling back to you vic de angelis x reader

-Vic once again finds her way back to you.

·。🍓 one of a kind vic de angelis x reader | fluff, mentions of sex

-Vic finds out just how rich the feeling of love can be.

·。🍓 “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretend that it’s you!” vic de angelis x reader | fluff, angst

·。🍓 pt 2 hospital vic fic. vic de angelis x reader

·。🍓 “everything before the word ‘but’ is horseshit.” vic de angelis x reader | smut

·。🍓 the one where victoria is patient. victoria de angelis x fem!reader | smut

-you've been with Victoria for half a year. Maybe it's about time you pushed your fears away.

·。🍓 “Yeah, well, if you weren’t so drunk maybe I would.” vic de angelis x reader | fluff

·。🍓 “Give me attention.” vic de angelis x reader | smut

·。🍓 “We’re in public, you know.” vic de angelis x reader | fluff

·。🍓 “Wait, don’t pull away… Not yet.” vic de angelis x reader | fluff

·。🍓 "Take off your clothes, but leave the heels on." vic de angelis x reader | fluff

·。🍓 vic fic vic de angelis x reader

-A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party

·。🍓 vic blurb vic de angelis x reader

-Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead.

·。🍓 l'amore è più forte di ogni segreto: Part 1. victoria de angelis x fem!reader | angst, swearing, bad google translate translations, overuse of italics, mention of someone called ‘A’ - Damiano’s girlfriend

-unbeknownst to you both, paparazzi photograph you and Victoria while on your way back from a date night. When you find out in the morning, the two of you have very different ideas of how to handle the situation.

·。🍓 l'amore è più forte di ogni segreto - Part 2. victoria de angelis x fem!reader | angst, swearing, bad google translate translations, overuse of italics.

·。🍓 k is for kisses vic de angelis x reader

-You and your girlfriend, Victoria, both like to tease each other. Kisses ensue.

·。🍓 peculiar and beautiful victoria de angelis x gn!reader | angsty but also fluffy

-reader finds themself in a emotional rut. A few comments online, the constant youtube recommendations on how to be “perfect” have been making them feel some type of way, hiding away from the one person that can help them; Victoria

·。🍓 amalfi nights victoria de angelis x fem!reader | smut, pretty vanilla, softdom!vic, servicetop!vic, praise, kind of fluffy smut

-reader and victoria are for vacation in Amalfi. After a candle-lit dinner at the restaurant, after a long day of swimming and sunbathing, victoria just wants to show you her love.

·。🍓 afterglow victoria de angelis x gn!reader | mentions of sex

-reader meets victoria while traveling with friends. The two create a lovely summer fling and reader can not help but bask in the afterglow of victorias influence hoping to encounter her again.

·。🍓 homesick vic de angelis x reader | tw sickness, vomitting

-vic and the reader being on a long vacation together. One night the reader wakes up homesick and ends up being sick in the toilet, trying to be as quiet as they can not to worry vic too much. To no use, of course, as vic wakes up alarmed by the sounds of someone being ill in the bathroom and then goes to comfort the sick, guilty, crying reader?

·。🍓 vic fic vic de angelis x reader

-An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

damiano david

✧*: i want to dance on your body damiano david x fem!reader | smut 

-you and your bestie hit up a party when you start grooving with Damiano, and the dance floor chemistry carries over to his hotel room. That's where the magic unfolds, and you both go to cloud as he compares you to an angel.

✧*: i'm gonna fly straight to you damiano david x fem!reader | fluff

-you and Damiano are cuddled up in bed, brainstorming epic future adventures together.

✧*: i wanna paint your face like you're my Mona Lisa. damiano david x fem!reader | smut

-damiano takes you to see his new yacht

✧*: long stormy night damiano x fem!reader x vic | SMUT!!!, degradation, corruption kink, wax play, knife play, blood play, spanking, bit of fear play, unprotected sex, it’s just wild ok, i wanted to treat y/n

-It’s a last day of your small, a bit disappointing  gateway trip. The big storm is approaching, yet your evening takes an interesting turn when you bump into two hot Italians in the hotel bar

✧*: overthinking damiano david x fem!reader | swearing, alcohol, smoking, smut related things in general

-Your relationship with Damiano is going through a crisis and some jealousy. All becomes clear after a filed party and a steamy night. There is a bit sad, angsty beginning, smut in the middle and a bit of fluff in the end. So, we have the whole package.

✧*: welcome home damiano david x fem!reader | surprisingly fluffy but also smut

-after a long week all you need is a loving touch of your currently absent boyfriend. Luckily in the morning there is a very handsome surprise waiting for you, and this allows you to start your day in best way you could possibly imagine

✧*: 300,000 hearts damiano david x fem!girlfriend!reader

-where damiano sings a song about you he wrote in highschool, to a full arena

ethan torchio

ᑦ( •ᴥ• )ᐣ blush ethan torchio x reader | pure fluff

-a blurb of Ethan meeting his new makeup artist who's really kind and bubbly and he instantly gets a crush on them?

ᑦ( •ᴥ• )ᐣ a night in paris ethan torchio x fem!reader | smut+swearing

-you went on a tour with the band and Ethan enjoyed Paris the most. Having your boyfriend all happy and excited turned out to be better then you expected.

ᑦ( •ᴥ• )ᐣ "The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused, is making me lose my mind." ethan torchio x fem!reader | smut

-If acting unwise get's you places, maybe you're just pushing it to be on your knees.

thomas raggi

❤︎ ❥ "We passed 'just friends' about 20 fucks ago." thomas raggi x reader | angst, fluff, smut

❤︎ ❥ sanremo. thomas raggi x gn!reader | swearing, slightly sugggestive

-ever the supportive boyfriend, thomas indulges you in a sanremo 2023 watch party.

[writersblockiskillingme]

Can you please do a Damiano fell in love with his long time friend/band mate (reader) who is the backup singer (bc their voices complement each others perfectly) and writes a song about her and sings it to her on stage, confessing his love. (the other band mates know abt it).

I’m in my delusional era

Only Angel | Damiano David

Pairing: Damiano David x fem!reader (Måneskin bandmate)

Summary: You were in love with him for a very long time, but you didn't know that he loved you back. Until he decided to do something about it.

Warning/s: pet name (angel), just a little bit of good all angst, smut +18, degradation, teasing, prising, dom/sub, few curse words, mentions of alcohol and weed, cigarettes, mentions of one night stands, grammar and spelling mistakes, Google translated Italian (sorry, please tell me in the comments if I made any mistakes so I can fix them)

Author's note: This one's been a long time coming, but enjoy!

I saw this angel

I really saw an angel

Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see

That I'm still the only one who's been in love with me

I'm just happy getting you stuck in between my teeth

And there's nothing I can do about it

Damiano could still remember the first time he met her.

She was the first singer that Måneskin (Back then just Victoria and Thomas) recruited for the band. He could remember it as if it was yesterday.

His hands were sweating as hell as he walked through the hallway of a "made up", improved studio that belongs to the future, back-then-still-in-making, rock band Måneskin. He remembered how nervous he was, but that nervousness compared to the one he experienced as he walked into the studio was nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not a big deal at all.

As he reached his stop, he looked up and saw a guy with blonde hair messing with his guitar, and he saw a blonde haired girl standing next to him, watching him. They didn't notice him just yet.

Damiano turned his head away from them and decided to focus his gaze on a girl sitting in a chair with a pen and journal in her hands, ashtray sitting on the armrest of the chair. She was lightly gripping the pen as she wrote and crossed and scrambled the words on a piece of paper in the journal. Her (h/l) (h/c) covered her eyes slightly. He could clearly see her red lips moving, even tho she had a half finished cigarette in her mouth. She was probably mumbling the word of the, what was probably, a song she was writing.

She was mumbling so quietly, but somehow he could still hear her voice. It was beautiful, he felt like he was falling into a trans. He felt himself freezing like a deer in headlights when he saw her look up at him.

Her face steached into a smile, cigarette no longer lingering on her lips as she reached out and placed it on an ashtray. Her (e/c) shining like the sun, her hair no longer covering them from him. She stood up and started to walk up to him. That's the moment when Vic and Thomas noticed him, too.

He noticed the grace she was carrying herself with. It was as if she was floating. It was a sight to behold for sure.

"Ciao! Tu devi essere Damiano David." [Hi! You must be Damiano David.] She said and he felt like his breath was knocked out of his lungs when he heard her angelic voice speak to him.

"SÌ. Quello... sono io." [Yes. That's me.] He stuttered for a bit and that shocked him to his core. He never stuttered before, it felt weird. He didn't like that.

"Sorprendente. Io sono (Y/N) e loro sono Thomas e Victoria." [Amazing. I'm (Y/N) and this is Thomas and Victoria.] She introduced herself, Thomas and Vic.

And so, after a few quick hellos were exchanged, they pulled him in front of the mic and they preformed one song with him and one where he had to sing alone. It turned out that (Y/N) and he sing together perfectly. Their voices simply sound so good together. However, since that day something followed Damiano. Something that he couldn't quite place for a little bit.

Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door

I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor

Couldn't take you home to mother in a skirt that short

But I think that's what I like about it

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

Over the years Damiano and (Y/N) started to get closer and closer to each other.

At first it was innocent, truly. The two of them would talk with each other more than they would with Vic, Thomas or Ethan. Everyone soon noticed how close they were. They started to become very good friends. They had a lot of thing in common. They liked the same music, the same artists, everything! They somehow never ran out of topics to have a conversation about. It was amazing, really.

They would go out to get coffee, pizza, they went to bars and local parties together. They would come to each other's houses and just watch TV and get drunk or, sometimes even, high. They would drink some shitty wine that they would find in some shitty liquor store and would fall asleep on top of each other on the couch.

They would write and sing songs with each other. They liked each other's voices, but most of all, they liked how they sounded together. A match made in heaven, indeed.

However, over the years something changed. As they grew, the band did, too and so did their feelings for one another. Damiano watched everything she did whenever she was in his presence. He practically adored the ground she was walking on. It was amazing to experience. And to watch, too.

Vic was the first one to notice, of course. She would easily notice the longing glances that they would send each other while they thought that nobody was looking. She tried to talk to them about it. They would just brush it off.

"She is just my best friend, come on, Vic!"

"He's just a friend to me. Nothing more!"

Of course, Vic wasn't stupid, and neither were Thomas and Ethan. They soon figured what was up, too. The three musicians really tried everything in their power to get them to know what the other was feeling, but it felt like it was impossible to do that.

The problem was that Damiano and (Y/N) thought that the other didn't like them like that. And so from one problem, another one was born.

One night stands.

They both thought that if they see other people they could push their feelings away. However, when did that work out?

Damiano could still remember it. He walked down the hallway of the hotel that they were staying in because of their performance in New York. He watched her and some random guy practically eat each other's faces as she started to push him into her hotel room.

The last thing that he saw were the stains of red lipstick before he started doing it two.

I must admit I thought I'd like to make you mine

As I went about my business through the warning signs

End up meeting in the hallway every single time

And there's nothing we can do about it

Damiano had officially had enough. Watching her bringing guy after guy in her hotel room, him bringing girl after girl. It was too much. He couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't just stand aside as he watched and heard everything those guys did when it should be him doing it to his angel.

So one night he gathered his courage and knocked on her door so hard he almost got splinters in his knuckles from the wooden door. The moment she opened the door he spilled his feelings to her and so this is how they ended up there.

Damiano was quick to notice a bruise in the corner of her neck. Her pathetic attempt to cover it with her hair was not doing it. He felt anger fill his body to the brim. He knew that he had no reason to be angry, she wasn't his. Perhaps that was what angered him.

"You seem angry." (Y/N) was quick to point it out, her face forming a concerned look. "Why are you mad?"

"I'm not mad." Damiano spat out, proving her point. "I just think that you can choose better people to share spit with, angel. That's all."

"Excuse me?!" (Y/N) couldn't help but to yell in his face in the middle of the hallway. "What the hell is wrong with you, Damiano?"

"Was it worth it?" He asked her, his voice dangerously low. It send shivers down her spine.

"Is you hating me right now your new personality trait?"

She knew that that wasn't justified. She knew how bold of her that was. She knew that he didn't actually hate her, at least she hoped that he didn't. The truth was that she grew nervous under his gaze. His gaze, his tone, sudden realization of what he was talking about... it made her nervous as hell. She didn't know what to do.

"Was it worth it?" He kept his voice low and she knew that she couldn't avoid the topic any longer as much as she wanted to.

"I don't know what to say, Damiano."

"Oh, don't bullshit me, (Y/N)!" Damiano's voice rang in the hallway of the huge hotel in the middle of New York. He didn't give a flying fuck that it was night. That her "neighbors" were probably asleep. He didn't care about anything but his angel.

"Watcing you with so many guys who can't give you what I can... it draw me crazy." He finally confessed as he watched her in science of the hallway, frozen, confused. "You still don't get it, do you? It's because I love you."

"Now I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me that you don't feel the same way." Damiano told her as he pinned her against the door of her bedroom. Her breath getting stuck in her throat as she listened to his rough voice speak. "Just then I will leave you alone."

"I can't." She whispered, feeling so small compared to him right now.

"And why is that, angel."

"Because... I'm not even gonna lie, I'm just so fucking obsessed with you, you have no idea."

That's all he needed.

Told it to her brother and she told it to me

That she's gonna be an angel, just you wait and see

When it turns out she's a devil in between the sheets

And there's nothing she can do about it

Hey, hey

His lips felt so familiar yet so unknown to her. His breathing had become more strained.

"Damn it all to hell, if I don't get to have you tonight then I'm never going to be able to have you."

"Who says it has to be that way." (Y/N) said as she gasped in pleasure as he started to suck the skin on her neck.

His muscles tensed with every thrust. She finally allowed herself to sink into the mattress, into her pillow. She finally allowed herself to have him and for him to have her. She felt his hands flattering against her spine as he drew her closer to him as if that was physically possible.

"Arch your back for me, angel."

She felt herself gasping in pleasure as she did what he asked her to do. It was hard for him to contain his own sounds, too, as he pumped his thick throbbing cock into her at a constant pace.

"Please..." she was getting overwhelmed with him continuously hitting the right spot deep inside of her.

He grabbed her ankles and lifted her ankles to place them around his waist. She was practically screaming as he continued to split her wet pussy at rapid speed. She continued to shudder as he sped up his pace.

"Bet you they don't make you sound like that, do they, angel?"

"Ah- I-"

"Do they!?"

"NOO!" She barely gasped. "They don't... only you can do- ahh- this to mee!"

She openly moaned, screaming as Damiano's cock started swelling and stretching her tight pussy even more then before. And as her orgasm hit, she began to cry. He didn't care, he continued to thrust repeatedly, no signs of stopping or at least slowing down.

"I want you to remember everything fucking seconds of this."

She was overstimulated, but the tears of pleasure continued to flow.

He suddenly pulled out, erotic sound of cum mixed together filled the deafening silence in her room. He's fiery kisses started to trail down to her soaked pussy. Soon he started to suck her clit, but he moved away when he felt your hands on his head. He removed his tongue as he repositioned himself near your ass.

"Mhh!" (Y/N) tried to gain her voice back so she could speak again. "Don't! Too much!"

"Shhh... my beautiful angel." He cooed to her. "I'm sure that you've got one more in you. Will you be a good little angel and take what I have to give you?" His words were mocking and teasing at the same time as she nodded her head as much as she could before she pushed herself further into her pillow.

"Good girl."

He slowly began to enter her again, he was lubricated by her dripping juices. The thrusts began to increase again as she screamed his name, shaking. However, soon she found herself moving to meet his rough, pleasurable thrusts, which synchronized.

She was drowning in pleasure, she couldn't comprehend what was happening anymore. However she knew one thing, every time that fat cock hit her cervix, she got closer and closer to her much needed release.

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

Wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight

Wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight

Wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight

The stadium was big. The light were truly blinging (Y/N). The adrenaline was pumping through your veins. She was so happy, so full of euphoria even tho her throat felt so sore from all the singing and her muscles were hurting her.

On the other hand Damiano felt like he was going to faint. Yes, he was euphoric and happy, too. He was so happy and excited for the even bigger future of Måneskin, but he felt nervous.

For years he was in love with this girl. He always gave his best to express it as best as he possibly could. But nothing felt good enough. His angel deserved the world, even more so. He loved her so much the fraze "to the moon and back" simply couldn't cut it.

So he decided to express his love for her in a way that he did best. He wrote her a song. And so with a deep breath, and Victoria's pep talk before he went on the stage, he stepped forward.

"How are we feeling tonight, LA!?" Damiano shouted and his shout was followed by screaming and clapping of the fans.

"So tonight you are going to hear a song you have never heard before!! You excited!!??"

Damiano had to cover his ears a little because the screaming of the fans became a little bit too much. Still he found himself laughing with excitement. Like he always did. He looked a little to the side where (Y/N) was standing so he could take a little peak at her face. Confused was not a good enough word to explain the look on her face when she heard what Damiano had said and Vic, Thomas nor Ethan didn't say anything. He wrote a song? Without me? (Y/N) though to herself.

"This song I will sing alone." Damiano said and (Y/N) got even more confused.

"You see, I met this girl a long time ago and I felt like I loved her the moment I saw her. I wanted to express my love to her and to the entire world so I wrote this song for her." Damiano continued.

The crowd was already loosing their minds as Damiano stepped took the microphone form it's stand, but when Damiano said the next words and started singing all hell broke loose.

"This song is for you, (Y/N). My only angel."

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

She's an angel

My-my-my only angel

->

->

->

TAGLIST

@opal-rugger

[tempobrucera]

Fire Alarms & Love Hearts

Pairing: Fem!Reader/Thomas

Description: Thomas might be the reason why you and your neighbours are getting annoyed. And he might also be the one who asks you for a date.

Words: 10.1k

Warnings: Smut, it’s silly - I’m well aware of that

A/N: About 1 ½ years ago i received this lovely prompt and guess who finally wrote it @l0standn0tf0und

Add yourself to my taglist.  / Masterlist

._____.

It's the beginning of November even for Rome the night air is chilling, and you would like to be in bed instead of staying outside in the cold. In your pyjamas. Your neighbours are all outside with you, the fire alarm went off the second night this week. The second night you're staring at your neighbour, you think you overheard someone call him Thomas a few nights ago. He's standing there only in his briefs and while you're still asking yourself how he isn't cold you see him shiver.

"I probably should have grabbed my bathrobe on the way out," he says. You know you should say something but you're busy looking at him, he's tall, fascinating eyes, cute smile and your sleep deprived brain can’t handle anything at this moment. “But then no one’s really dressed for the occasion, are they?”

You realise he's talking to you, and you blush. "Sorry?"

He giggles.

"I’m cold, my ass is going to freeze and fall off and then it's going to get lost somewhere around here and the city is going to be sued because of a naked butt running around and..." He trails off.

Now you are the one laughing.

“I’m sure that’s not what you said before but we can’t have your butt get lost, good thing it looks like they’re letting us inside again."

You're right. A few minutes later you're back in your apartment, ready to fall asleep again. Snuggled in your blankets, thinking about Thomas winking at you before you parted ways again.

When you leave the next day you can see a little note on your door.

“Hello neighbour,

I would like to ask you out for dinner.

If you're interested just let me know, if not please burn this note and never mention it to anyone! And just pretend you don’t know who I am the next time you see me.

P.S. My ass is still in place, no suing yet ;)

P.P.S. You should ask out the cute guy from the floor above you.

Thom"

You're laughing as you fold the note and put it into the pocket of your coat, not knowing how you should respond. Bold you think, but somehow charming. And now you also know who lives in the flat over you, the wind sometimes carrying lovely guitar tunes to your window from his.

It takes you three days to have the courage until you're knocking on Thomas' door. He opens the door in his pyjamas, messy hair and his mouth open in surprise.

"Hi, I'm your neighbour from downstairs, the one you asked out for dinner" you say, a big grin on your face.

He laughs, and you are glad that you didn't just leave a message and go to your flat again.

"Yes, yes, I did," he says, opening the door for you, "but right now I'm making pancakes.”

“Is that what’s smelling like it’s burning?”

His eyes go wide.

"Shit!"

He turns around and runs to the kitchen. You take the time to look at his flat, there are a few books. Guitars. Magazines. A stray sock on the floor. Photos.

He comes back out a few minutes later, smiling sheepishly.

"Okay, so, it's not burnt. It's just... not exactly the way I had planned."

You knit your eyebrows together thinking about the fire alarms again but shake your head at yourself and smile at him instead.

“I would share them but …. I was kind of planning to eat them straight from the pan and my cooking isn’t exactly made to be shared, or even fit for human consumption.“

You laugh.

"I would like to share them anyway," you say and wink at him, "and I'm sure they're delicious."

He smiles back.

"Well then, sit down and let me be your host," he says. “But if you get food poisoning that’s on you, I warned you.”

“You can say if now is a bad time instead of trying to poison me if you want to, that would be perfectly okay, maybe I should have just written a reply to the note. So sorry if I'm interrupting anything. Or anyone."

"You're not. I'm not... I mean... I'm single. I'm sorry." He blushes. "I didn't mean to say that. Fuck. I mean..."

You start laughing.

"Okay. Calm down. Breathe. It's fine, I promise.”

“I’m only in my pyjamas. I wasn't really expecting anyone. Let alone the person I tried to ask out."

You smile at him.

"Well, I didn't expect you to still be in pyjamas in the middle of the day either." It's 4 o'clock in the afternoon, you really didn't think he would be in his pyjamas.

He looks at you sheepishly: "Good point. You can have my pancakes but only if you're getting in your pyjamas as well."

It's something you can agree on and ten minutes later you're sitting in his living room, in your pyjamas. He smiles and laughs and you have a nice fuzzy feeling when he looks at you. You talk about music, about travelling, about everything and nothing. When it's dark outside and you're full of pancakes, that are only half as bad as he thought and said but somehow still burned at the edges and the inside that should be fluffy sometimes not quite cooked. You're glad you took the chance. He's fun to be around and you talk more, about concerts, memories and favourite places. It's easy to talk to him, and it's even easier to laugh with him. When the conversation dies down a little bit and your eyes are getting heavy, he looks at you and grins.

"We should do that again."

You look at him, he's beautiful, he's sweet, you nod.

"Yes. Definitely."

"Maybe not in pyjamas next time."

*_____*

Thomas doesn't really think he can call it a date, it's not a real one, but it's a great evening and definitely a beginning of something. He likes you, he would love to take you out, and he feels like a fool for having given you a note and not asked you out directly. It's not his usual behaviour. When he's walking you to the door, he thinks about kissing you. But you're just getting to know each other, so he hugs you, and kisses you on the cheek instead. You're grinning and wave at him, he watches you walk to the door and down the hall to his front door.

"See you around?" He asks, a little hope in his voice.

"Of course. I think that's an offer I can't refuse."

"Good, next time I'll take you out for dinner." He says, you lean in and for a second he thinks you're going to kiss him, but you just give him a quick kiss on the nose.

"That would be wonderful," you say and then you're gone.

He goes back inside, closing the door and leaning against it.

"Fuck," he says to himself. "I've got it so bad."

*_____*

Two weeks later you're going out for dinner with Thomas. He's a little late and when he walks into the restaurant he's already apologising from afar.

"I'm so sorry, the traffic is hell," he says, his eyes wide. "And my phone battery died and I couldn't call you. But I'm here, finally."

You smile.

"It's fine," you say and you take a deep breath, he's so cute, you already knew that but seeing him makes you nervous and happy and giddy. A feeling you haven't had in a while. He sits down opposite you. "And I have to say it's nice to see you in something different than your pyjamas or only in underwear."

He blushes.

"You liked the sight then," he says with a smirk and winks at you.

You look at him, raising an eyebrow and grin.

"I didn't say that."

He chuckles and starts looking through the menu. You watch him, trying to figure him out, but it's not as easy as you first had thought.

"Do you want some wine?" He asks, looking at you.

"That sounds great," you say.

He looks at you, you think he's waiting for a question, but you're not sure what.

"I have another idea," you say, hoping it's a good one.

"What would that be?"

"A bet."

He raises an eyebrow.

"What would this bet involve?"

"We have to make the other one blush, the first one to lose the game has to pay for dinner."

He laughs.

"So we're both going to be in trouble tonight."

"Maybe, maybe not."

He looks at you and smiles, "okay, we can do that, but I should warn you I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."

"We'll see," you say.

And with that the game begins. You're looking at each other, smiling, flirting, and you're having fun.

The waiter comes over and asks for your order, Thomas gets Carbonara, and you're getting ravioli.

"Can I try yours?" You ask.

"Yes, if I can try yours."

You're nodding and when the food arrives a few minutes later, you take turns feeding each other.

"This is amazing," you say.

"Yours is too, do you think we should switch?"

You're smiling, shaking your head.

"No, it's good."

"Do you think the pasta is as good as me?"

"Don't make me answer that."

He chuckles.

"I would say we can just not decide who has to pay and just split it."

"You would say that, and I can't tell if it's because you're afraid of losing or because you're trying to be a gentleman."

"I'm always a gentleman." He laughs.

He smiles at you and for a second he looks at his hands, before looking up at you.

"I'm not afraid," he says. He takes your hand, and you know you should prepare yourself for something, "your lips look lonely, would they like to meet mine?"

He looks at you expectantly, his eyes wide, a little shy. It's endearing. And it's really adorable. You try to stay serious, to not laugh. But when his face changes from hopeful to worried and then he's trying to pull his hand away, you can't help yourself.

"That was the worst line ever," you say, laughing.

"I don't know if I should be offended? Are you laughing at me?"

"No," you say, still laughing, "actually it's kinda cute just... it's cute, and I can't believe you actually said that. I thought you're going to make me blush with something dirty but you're just being adorable."

"Hey," he says, pretending to be offended. "I'm not adorable, I'm handsome and I'm..."

"Adorable."

"Not."

You're shaking your head.

"Definitely."

He pretends to pout, which makes you laugh even more. And you can see the blush creep into his cheeks.

"I can't believe I'm the loser of this bet," he says, sighing.

"You might be, but you're right, my lips are a little bit lonely. Mind to help out?"

"I can try, not making any promises though," he says, he leans closer, putting his lips on yours, and kissing you softly. You're smiling, and so is he. It's a short kiss, and it's not really enough, but it's still perfect.

When he pulls away, he's looking at you, his eyes full of wonder, his mouth slightly open.

"What?" You ask.

"I just want to savour the moment, I haven't kissed many people lately, and it feels a little strange to have my first real kiss in a while after a bad pick-up line."

You chuckle.

"You can have another one if you like."

He nods and kisses you again.

*_____*

When dinner is over, Thomas walks you home. He takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. He doesn't want the night to end, he likes being with you, and he has a feeling that you might like him too.

He brings you right to your apartment door and kisses you goodbye. It's soft and sweet and you're smiling, leaning into him. He can feel your smile against his lips, and he wants more.

He kisses you a little harder, his tongue flicking out to touch your bottom lip, and then your upper lip. A surprised moan escapes him when you open your mouth, granting him entrance, his tongue sliding over yours. Your arms wrap around him, holding him close, his body pressed against yours, and he can feel you against him. Your soft curves, your breasts pressing against his chest, your warmth and the smell of your skin, it's all intoxicating.

When the kiss ends, his lips are tingling. He looks at you, his mouth open and his breathing a little faster.

"You're good," you say, a smile on your lips.

He blushes.

"Thanks," he whispers.

He's leaning in again, kissing your cheek, and then the side of your neck, nuzzling your skin.

"Thomas," you whisper, his name coming out as a sigh.

He likes the sound of it, he wants to hear it again.

"Hmm," he hums, pressing a kiss right under your ear, sucking gently on your skin, his hands stroking your back. And then he pulls back. "I should say goodnight before I do something stupid."

You look at him, and for a moment he's afraid you'll disagree.

"Yeah," you say, sighing. "You're right."

He's glad that you understand, and a little disappointed that you're agreeing to let things progress slowly.

"Thank you for the lovely evening," he says.

"Thank you."

"I hope we can do that again, soon."

"Me too."

You give him a quick peck on the lips, then you're gone, closing the door behind you.

He stands in front of your door for a moment, his hand on the door, smiling.

"Fuck yes," he says to himself, a spring in his step when he gets up the steps to his own flat.

*_____*

After your third date with Thomas he's away for some time but he texts you. The first night he's back, is the night before your holidays and the first night another fire alarm goes off again, it's the beginning of January. You're annoyed, it's freezing cold outside, your flight is early and not even Thomas who's standing there in only his briefs again, with a bowl of pasta, can't make you smile.

"Hi neighbour," he says.

"Hi," you grumble.

He puts the bowl down, walking towards you and taking your hand.

"What's wrong?"

"I've got an early flight tomorrow, and now the stupid fire alarm went off, and..."

Thomas looks at you with guilt in his eyes, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "I'm sure the fire department is going to be quick."

"They better be," you say.

You turn around and see the firefighter that you already saw talking to Thomas the last few times. Thomas tries to sneak away, you look at his pasta that all of a sudden looks suspiciously burnt.

"Is this your doing?"

He smiles sheepishly, "maybe."

"Maybe," the firefighter says. "I have a feeling, it might be your boyfriend who's a little bit clueless in the kitchen."

"That's not true, my pancakes are delicious." He says and looks at you for help.

You look at them both.

"Not my boyfriend, not really, and your pancakes were for human consumption but also ... burnt a bit," you say, and the firefighter looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, they were horrible, but I didn't burn anything in a while. Just today."

The firefighter sighs.

"This is the sixth time in not even as many months, please order pizza or go to a cooking class, please, for your neighbours sake," he says and you look at him.

"You're really getting a cooking class," you say to Thomas, "this is not negotiable, you can't cook, and everyone's getting fed up with being woken up by the fire alarm. You need a teacher, or someone, just... something. Please."

Thomas sighs, but he agrees.

"Fine."

"Good," you say.

It's not much longer until the building is empty again and the fire alarm is shut off. You walk to your apartment, and Thomas follows you.

"Sorry about the pancakes, and the pasta, and the fire alarm. And the other fire alarms," he says, sighing.

You shrug.

"It's okay, and now that the fire department knows that the fire alarm is set off by an incompetent cook, they hopefully know for future incidents. Now I should sleep, I'm getting up way too early tomorrow."

"Good night," he says.

"Night."

He hugs you, and kisses you, and you're glad to be inside again.

*_____*

The first time you sleep with Thomas is after you're back, the two of you are spending more and more time together, and there is no way you would ever describe it as 'just friends'. You've been flirting with him, and he with you.

Thomas is kissing you passionately. His hands are under your shirt. You're kissing back, trying to keep up with his kisses and his movements. You're in his bed and while you are both still wearing shirts and underwear you feel a little too warm all of a sudden. He is on top of you, kissing down your neck and biting softly, you let out a soft moan.

"Fuck," he whispers.

"What is it?"

"This is embarrassing, but... I might not last long," he whispers, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Don't worry about that, I won't be offended," you say, stroking his hair, and kissing his temple. “Feels like a compliment to me.”

"Still."

"It's fine."

He lifts his head, looking at you, smiling, his eyes full of hope and lust. He kisses you again, and starts rubbing against you. The thin layer of fabric is the only thing separating the two of you. You're grinding back, moving together, and it's not long until you're both gasping, and you're holding on to him. His hands are moving, slipping under the waistband of your panties, pushing them down, and then his hands are between your legs. You can feel his fingers on your folds, stroking gently.

"Shit," you breathe, your eyes falling shut.

He's moving, getting between your legs and kneeling on the floor. You prop yourself up on your elbows, and look down at him, watching him, he's licking his lips, and looking at you, his pupils wide. You watch him and he leans in, his breath hot against your skin, his lips kissing the inside of your thigh.

He kisses upwards, getting closer and closer, and when his mouth finally touches you, your head falls back, and a moan leaves your mouth. He's sucking and licking, his tongue teasing your clit, his fingers thrusting into you. Your breathing is ragged and fast, your heart is racing, it doesn't take long until the wave of pleasure is crashing down on you.

"God, fuck, Thomas," you gasp, as the orgasm washes over you.

He keeps going, drawing out the pleasure - making you tremble and writhe. When he's finished, you're lying on the bed, breathing hard. He gets up, and gets rid of his underwear, and his shirt, and when he climbs back on the bed, he's naked. He leans down, kissing you.”

"Can I?" He asks, looking at you.

"Yes, please."

He lines himself up and slowly pushes into you, you can feel him stretching you, filling you, and you wrap your legs around his waist.

"Shit," he breathes.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, it's just..." he trails off, not finishing his sentence, and he starts to move, his thrusts are slow and gentle.

You can see the expression on his face, his mouth is hanging open, his eyes are closed, and he's moaning, and whispering. His name is on your lips, and you're holding onto him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

His thrusts become faster and harder, his breathing is getting ragged. He's moaning, his hips stuttering. He's groaning and grunting, his body tensing, and his muscles straining, and when he comes, his whole body shakes. He collapses on top of you, his weight resting on you, and his head resting on your chest.

You stroke his hair, and kiss the top of his head, and he's breathing heavily, his eyes closed.

"Sorry," he whispers, after a few moments.

"It's fine."

"It's been a while."

"You can't control these things."

He rolls off of you, and turns his head, his eyes opening.

"I'll make it up to you," he says.

"There's nothing to make up, really. It was wonderful."

"Still," he says.

*_____*

Thomas' birthday is coming up and even though by now he has told his friends and the band about you, he's still nervous asking you to join them for the evening. In the end he doesn't know what he was so worried about, you're excited and happy about the invitation.

Thomas is in the middle of his party, surrounded by friends and family, and you're sitting next to him, with a beer and a slice of cake, and he's happy. You're holding his hand, and occasionally lean over to kiss him.

Victoria is pulling you away from him to dance with you, and he's smiling and laughing as he watches the two of you.

"Good job," she whispers into his ear after she's sick of dancing.

"Thank you!" He has to grin, and then she's gone, and you're back by his side.

"How's the birthday boy doing?"

"Great, now that my girlfriend is back," he says.

You raise an eyebrow.

"Girlfriend?"

"Yes," he says, looking at you, a hopeful smile on his face.

"Okay, boyfriend," you say.

He blushes, and smiles, his eyes are wide but his smile is almost shy. He pulls you in, kissing you softly, and wrapping his arm around you.

"I like that," he says.

"Me too."

*_____*

He drags you into the bedroom as soon as most of the people have left and you can't stop smiling and laughing. Thomas closes the door and turns around to look at you. You're standing there, your hair is a little messy, your shirt is crumpled, and your cheeks are flushed. He can't stop looking at you, and when he doesn't say anything, you take a step forward.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," he says, and closes the distance between the two of you, kissing you, and holding you close.

He starts unbuttoning your shirt, and kisses the skin that's revealed, then pushes the shirt off your shoulders, it lands on the floor, and then his hands are on your breasts, squeezing gently.

You pull his shirt off, and your fingers trail down his sides, making him shudder. His skin is warm, his stomach soft. You push him down onto the bed, he lies back, looking up at you, his pupils blown, his breathing ragged, and his cock hard.

"I've got a surprise for you, birthday boy.”

"Oh yes," he says, his voice hoarse.

"Close your eyes."

He does, and you take some lube from the nightstand, and get out of your skirt and your underwear, and kneel next to him, straddling his thigh. You squeeze some lube into the palm of your hand, warming it up between your fingers.

"Can I look now?" He asks, impatiently.

"Almost," you say, and then your hands are on his cock, stroking him, your thumb brushing over the tip, his hips bucking into your touch.

"Fuck," he whispers, and he bites his lip, trying to stay quiet, his eyes still closed.

You start moving, your hand stroking his cock, and he's groaning, his hands are grasping the sheets, and he's arching his back, and thrusting into your hand.

"Fuck, please," he gasps, and you stop.

He opens his eyes and looks at you, his mouth hangs open, and his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

"That was mean," he says, but the smile on his lips is telling you that he liked it. “Is my surprise only sex or is there more? Like is it edible underwear or something, a costume … oh," he cuts himself off, when he sees the look on your face.

You raise an eyebrow.

"A costume. You'd like me in a costume, wouldn't you?"

He's blushing, and his cock twitches, he doesn't answer, he doesn't has to.

"Wouldn't you?"

"Yeah," he admits.

You laugh.

"Well, I don't have one now, but if I find one, I might surprise you," you say, “I have something different for you, I want to eat you out and when you’re a whimpering mess, I want to ride you."

"Fuck, yes," he breathes.

"Lie back and relax."

"I can do that," he says.

You lean down and start kissing his chest, nipping and licking his skin. You can feel his heartbeat, his breathing shallow. You're working your way down, kissing his stomach. You take his cock in your hand, and stroke him, and he moans. You kiss further down, getting between his legs, and licking his balls, and then his cock. He's moaning, his hips jerking.

"Oh god, please," he gasps.

You continue, sucking his balls into your mouth, and then moving back. He spreads his legs a little further apart, and lifts his hips, you kiss his thighs, and stroke his cock, your other hand moves between his cheeks, and when your finger brushes over his hole, his hips jerk violently.

"Fuck," he gasps.

"Can I?" You ask.

"Please," he begs.

You're spreading his legs a little more, and kissing the inside of his thighs, and then you're licking his hole, your tongue teasing the tight ring of muscle. He's panting and gasping, his eyes closed, his mouth hanging open. He's writhing on the bed, his hips moving, and when you push your tongue into him, he's swearing, his hands gripping the sheets.

“Oh god, please don’t stop. Shit, please. Fuck, this is amazing, shit, please, fuck, I want- I need- please, please, please, please," he's babbling, and when you reach between his legs, and wrap your fingers around his cock, his body is shaking, and he's swearing. "Fuck, oh god, please, please, I need you. If you keep fucking me this good," he gasps. “I might just have to marry you.”

Your mouth is still on him but you smile, and you're licking and sucking, your hand is stroking his cock.

For Thomas it feels like minutes, for you, it must have been less than a minute. He's writhing and swearing, and moaning, his breathing is ragged, and his hips are stuttering, his cock throbbing and leaking pre-come. He's a mess, his back arched, fingers entangled in your hair.

“You enjoy that?”

"Fuck, yes. Yes. God, yes, please, please, I need you, please," he pants, and his eyes are wide open, looking at you.

"You ready for me, birthday boy?"

"Yes, yes, please," he whispers.

You kneel over him, straddling his waist, guiding him to your entrance. He's holding on to your hips, his eyes squeezed shut. You lower yourself, and when the head of his cock slips into you, the both of you moan. You're moving, taking him in inch by inch, and when he's completely inside you, you're sitting in his lap. You move your hips, riding him, and he's thrusting up into you, his cock rubbing against your walls, hitting all the right places. He's groaning, and his fingers dig into your skin.

“That was so good, no one ever did that for me before, I didn't think I'd like it, but fuck, this was amazing," he's talking, and it sounds almost like he's drunk. Drunk on lust and emotions.

You start riding him, your hips moving, and he's thrusting up into you, his moans fill the room, and the sounds of your bodies moving together. The slap of skin against skin is the only sound, apart from his voice.

"Please, don't stop," he's begging, and his words are slurring, his movements becoming erratic. His back arches, his muscles tense, and his body starts to shake, his grip on your hips tightens, and his mouth falls open. "Oh god, fuck, fuck, please, oh god, please, please, please, please, oh god," his voice is hoarse, and then his hips are jerking, and his cock is throbbing and his eyes are squeezed shut, his body is shaking, his nails digging into your skin. He's gasping, and his cock pulses inside of you.

He's panting, his eyes are open, and he looks at you, his gaze unfocused. You lift your hips, and he slips out of you, his hands are resting on your hips, his grip still tight, and his breathing is laboured.

You roll off of him, and lie down next to him. When he reaches for you, you hold him. His body is trembling, and his heart is beating fast. He's breathing hard, and his eyes are closed.

"Wow, that was amazing," he mumbles.

"It was," you say, kissing his temple.

"I need to clean up, give me a second," he says, and he's trying to get up.

"Stay, I'll do it."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

He's smiling, eyes still closed, his head resting on the pillow, and his breathing is getting steadier again. You get up, and walk into the bathroom, and return with a washcloth.

"This was the best birthday present," he says, looking at you. “No candy underwear but you can’t have everything.”

"It was a pleasure."

"What about you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I came long before you.”

"You did?"

"Yes."

He smiles, and closes his eyes. You're cleaning him up, wiping away the sweat, and his come, and his eyelids flutter. You put the washcloth into the laundry basket, and crawl back into bed.

"I'll do something for you, just let me catch my breath," he says, his words are slurred, and his breathing is deep.

"There's no need," you whisper.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He nods, and he's snuggling closer to you before he drifts off to sleep.

"Happy birthday," you whisper, and press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he sighs contently.

*_____*

A couple of weeks later, you're sitting in the dressing room with Victoria after a show. He's sitting on a couch, his legs spread wide, and he's talking to someone. You can't hear what they're saying, but you're watching him. His smile, and the way his eyes light up, the way he talks. The way he moves his hands.

Victoria is next to you, she's watching you, and a smile is playing on her lips.

"You're staring," she says.

"Yes," you answer.

She's grinning.

"Do you need help?" She asks.

"No."

"I know a lot about him."

"I don't doubt it."

"I mean, if you wanted to surprise him," she says, and winks.

“Actually I would need your help,” you smile, “Valentine’s is coming up and I would like to do something. Something a bit romantic, and something a bit, you know, … sexy.”

She's grinning, and her eyes light up.

"Oh yes, I would love to help you with that."

"As long as it doesn’t involve edible underwear,” you laugh.

She looks at you confused.

"No, but why would you think that?"

"Thomas mentioned it. He was curious about it."

"Oh," she grins, "c’mon it would make him laugh. You’re both silly like that. Just do it as an extra little thing, a candy bra and some really nice lace panties.”

“You’re right, if nothing else it would make him laugh, and he would love it. Thank you, Vic, for all the help you gave me and I would be honoured to have your advice and assistance with this."

"So, what do you have planned so far?"

"I'll tell you, but first I need to ask Thomas if he has any plans for the day, because if he does, we have to plan around them."

"Sounds like a good idea," she agrees. “He’s a romantic, so I don’t think he has other than plans he might have come up with already, but I can interrogate him a little bit. So what’s the plan?”

“I want to cook with him at home. You know how he set off the fire alarms a few times when he tried cooking and I figured that we can try it together, and maybe I can help him, make sure that we won't have a repeat performance of those days. Maybe we can do it together, so he will actually learn something, or maybe we'll fail spectacularly together. Light some candles, maybe get a bit wine drunk. And then after dinner, maybe have a bath and then go to bed, have sex, cuddle. Just the two of us, and a nice relaxed evening. No stress, no worries, just us. What do you think?"

"It sounds great," Victoria smiles. "So, what are you going to cook?"

"We never really cooked together before, but I did some research and I found a recipe for a lasagne, that sounds really good. We should be able to manage that. Worst case scenario we’re ending up with take-out.”

“Great, I’ll let you know when I find something out.”

._____.

Later that day, you're in bed, you're naked, and his face is buried between your thighs, his tongue is lapping at your wetness. His fingers are inside of you, and he's working his tongue on your clit. You're arching your back, almost grinding against his mouth. He's humming, you can feel the vibrations, and his teeth graze your clit.

His tongue is flat moving down, licking the length of your folds, and he's nipping at the sensitive skin. His fingers are curling and rubbing against the sweet spot inside of you, and when his other hand moves from your hip, and his finger brushes over your entrance, your breath hitches.

"Fuck," you gasp.

"That's the plan," he says, his voice muffled.

"Fuck," you say again.

He chuckles and his finger slides into you, his tongue is teasing your clit. His lips wrap around your clit, and he's sucking gently. Your hands are on his head, your fingers running through his hair, and your hips are moving. He's fucking you, his fingers are curling and pressing, and his tongue is stroking and licking, and your body is tensing.

"Thomas, please," you beg.

He doesn't stop, and his finger pushes in and out of you, his lips wrapped around your clit, his tongue licking, and his fingers are hitting all the right places. You're arching, and your hips are moving, and you can feel the orgasm building up. Your muscles are clenching, your breath hitches, and your toes are curling. You're close, so close, and you're grinding against his mouth, and his finger is still moving inside you.

"Fuck, Thomas," you gasp, and you're coming.

Your body is tensing, and your eyes are squeezing shut, your back is arching. Your muscles clench, and your walls are gripping his finger, and he's still fucking you, and his lips are wrapped around your clit, his tongue licking and sucking. Your hips jerk, and you're shaking, and he just doesn't stop.

He's lapping and licking, and you're squirming, and your hips are bucking, and you're whimpering. His finger is pressing and pushing, and his tongue is lapping and stroking, and your back is arching. He's humming, and your breathing is ragged.

You're tugging at his hair, and you're whimpering.

"Thomas, please, I need a moment, please," you're panting.

He stops, and looks at you, his chin is glistening, and his eyes are dark, and there's a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Are you tired already?"

"Yes, very much, I need a break," you say.

"You'll get one," he says.

He gets up, and moves over you, and your bodies are touching, his weight on top of you, and his cock is hard and twitching against your thigh, and you reach between your bodies, and wrap your fingers around his shaft, and start stroking him. He's groaning, and his head falls forward, and he's burying his face in your neck. His breath is hot against your skin, and he's rocking his hips, his cock sliding through your fingers.

He's panting and gasping, and you can feel him throb, his precum is smearing across your stomach. He's thrusting his hips, and his breath is hitching like yours before. He's moving, his hips jerking, and he's pushing his cock into your hand, his body is shaking, and his fingers dig into the mattress.

"Please, I want to come inside you," he moans.

"Do it," you say, and his cock twitches, and you spread your legs a little wider, and guide him between your folds, and he's entering you slowly.

"Fuck," he moans, and his body is trembling.

"You're so wet," he gasps, and his eyes are closed.

You lift your legs, and wrap them around his waist, and he's completely inside you, and he's still for a moment. He's panting, his cock is pulsing, and his muscles are tensing, and he starts moving, his thrusts are shallow, and his eyes are closed, and his lips are slightly parted, and his hair is hanging in his face. His hands are on either side of your head, and his body is shaking.

"Thomas, look at me," you say.

He looks at you, his eyes are glassy, and his pupils are blown.

"I'm not made of glass, please fuck me."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, please," you beg, and you move, and wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He starts moving, his movements slow and deliberate, and his breathing is ragged, and his muscles are tense, he's gritting his teeth.

"Harder, please," you moan, and your hips are bucking - matching his thrusts. Your back is arching, and his eyes fall shut, and he's pushing into you, his thrusts are hard.

"Shit, oh fuck," he groans.

“God, so good, Thom, please," you gasp, and his body is trembling.

He's gasping and moaning, and he's leaning down, and kisses you, his mouth is on yours, and he's thrusting into you, his movements erratic, and his fingers are gripping the sheets.

"You're so beautiful," he pants, and his voice is raspy.

He's moving faster, and his cock is sliding in and out of you, his lips on yours, and his tongue is moving against yours. Your legs are shaking, and you can feel the pressure inside of you building again. The tension coils in your belly, you're getting closer, and your fingers dig into his shoulders. You're gasping, his name a breathy moan.

"Please, Thomas, please," you beg.

"Please, what?"

"I want to come, I'm close," you moan.

"I know, love, so am I, please, come for me," he gasps. “Come again, please.”

He's moving his hips, his thrusts are fast and hard, and you're gasping and moaning, and his movements become more erratic.

"Shit, I'm close," he moans.

Your muscles clench, and the tension in your belly is too much, you can't hold it any longer. You're coming, your body is shaking, you're crying out, your body is arching, and you're clinging to him. His cock is throbbing and twitching, and his hips are jerking, and he's coming. You're trembling, and his cock is still pulsing, and his body is shuddering, and his face is buried in your neck.

"Fuck," he groans.

"Yes, indeed," you breathe.

*_____*

“What are you doing on Valentine’s Day?” Vic asks him some days later just after they had dinner together.

“Yes, so I was thinking of taking her to Verona for a day or two. Or maybe go to the planetarium and have a nice dinner afterwards. What do you think?”

“It’s great, Thom. But maybe you should do Verona another time, take her to the planetarium and maybe don’t worry about dinner. Romantic night in, you know.”

“You know something I don’t know, don’t you? Okay, planetarium and romantic night in. Understood.”

She grins and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

._____.

It's Valentine's day and you're sitting on the couch together for breakfast. You made pancakes, edible and not burned. After you finish eating he's kissing you, and his arms are around your waist, his body is warm against yours. His lips are soft, and his breath is hot, and then he's pulling away from the kiss.

"I have a present for you," he says.

"So do I," you smile.

"Me first," he says, and his cheeks are red.

He's taking a little box from the cupboard, and gives it to you, and you open it, and there's a bracelet. A thin, golden bracelet with three charms. A tiny rose, a guitar, and a heart.

"Oh Thomas," you whisper. "Thank you, I love it."

"Really?"

"Yes."

You take the bracelet and put it on.

"It's so beautiful, thank you."

He's smiling, and there's a pink blush on his cheeks.

"And now your turn," he says.

You're going to your room and take a bigger, gift wrapped box, and give it to him, and he sits on the couch next to you opening it. In it is a knitted sweater, he takes it and he smiles. The sweater is pale blue, and has a white pattern of musical notes and stars on it.

"Oh, this is so beautiful," he whispers. “I can’t believe you knitted for me.”

"I'm glad you like it."

"I love it." He gives you a kiss, “and I thought we could go to the planetarium and I was told to have a romantic night in.”

“Yes, the night is my part of the plan.” You smile.

._____.

When you arrive at the planetarium it's almost empty. There's only a group of school children, a couple and a few people that seem to be there just to have a look around, but there's no guided tour and no lectures, so you're wandering around, looking at the exhibits, and watching the different shows while holding hands.

At some point, when the children have left and you're alone in the room, there's a show about the northern lights, and Thomas is staring at the ceiling. His eyes are sparkling, he smiles at you.

"One day I want to see them with you," he says.

"Someday, maybe."

"Yes, someday," he sighs, and smiles.

The lights dim, the show ends, and you're leaving the room. You're wandering through the hall, looking at the displays, and the pictures of the different constellations and galaxies, and stars. You're standing in front of the big picture of the milky way. Thomas is behind you, his arms are around your waist, nuzzling your neck.

“What’s your favourite,” he asks.

"You're my favourite," you whisper back.

"Your favourite galaxy, silly.”

"That would be still you," you say, and he kisses your neck.

"I’m also quite fond of you," he chuckles.

"So, which one is yours?"

"That would be the Orion nebula."

"Why that one?"

"Because of the colours and the beauty, and the fact that it's made from gas, dust and stardust, and the fact that it's a birthplace for stars, that makes it special to me."

You look at him.

“Maybe Ethan talked a lot about space lately and I think it might not be a galaxy, but it is still something related to the universe, so we’ll pretend that it still counts."

He's laughing and kisses you.

._____.

When you are back home and there's music playing, the lights are dim - the candles are flickering.

“I thought we could make lasagne together, have some wine, have a bath and later move to bed, have some more wine and then sleep or do other things."

He laughs.

"That sounds wonderful."

You start cooking together. Chopping, sizzling and at some point there's tomato sauce spilled, and tomato on the wall, and on the kitchen counter.

"Oops, sorry," he laughs.

"It's okay, I'll clean it up," you laugh.

You're cleaning up the mess, and then there's tomato on his face, and on his shirt, and you're still laughing. He's taking the bowl, puts it on the kitchen counter, and moves closer to you. He's leaning in, his lips touching yours, his hands are on your waist. His tongue is pushing against your lips and he's deepening the kiss.

“We should cook first, at least have the ragu sauce cooking,” you say between kisses.

"Yes, that's right," he whispers.

He's smiling and kisses your nose.

"Later," he says and winks, which makes you giggle.

You're making the ragu sauce, he's holding you from behind, his chin is on your shoulder, and his lips are against your neck.

"Do you need a hand?" He asks.

"No, the sauce is fine," you say, and his hands are roaming over your body, his mouth is on your neck, and he's nipping and kissing. His lips are brushing against your ear.

"Thomas, stop, or I won't be able to focus," you laugh.

"That's exactly what I'm hoping for," he chuckles. “Also don’t deny it but I saw that earlier. You checked out my ass when I bent down to take out the wine glasses and the bottle."

You smile and giggle.

"Yes, and I'm not even sorry, it's a really cute butt."

"Thanks, it's a gift from God, and I'm not even kidding."

You laugh and turn your head, your lips brush against his.

"Yes, it is."

He's laughing, and his fingers are digging into your waist.

"I love you," he says, his voice is low. His breath is warm against your skin. And his heart is beating against your back.

"I love you too."

He smiles and kisses you. Thomas’ hands are cupping your face and he's leaning his forehead against yours.

“Can we make out while the things in the pots are cooking and boiling, please, and maybe a bit later?"

You're giggling.

"Yes, I would like that," you say.

His lips are soft. His tongue is licking and sliding against yours, his hands are sliding over your body. Thomas’ touch is gentle. He's lifting you up on the kitchen counter and you're wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Can I touch your cute godsend butt," you ask, and his body is shaking with laughter.

"Yes, yes you can, and I would be offended if you didn't."

You're running your hands over his shoulders, down his back, right to his ass. Thomas’ hands are in your hair, his hips pressed against yours. His lips are sliding along your jaw, down your neck, and he's sucking at the spot just under your ear. His hardening cock is pressing against your core.

"Thom, the sauce will burn," you gasp.

"Right," he whispers, “but it’s not burning yet, let me kiss you some more."

"Okay," and with that he's deepening the kiss again.

His fingers are slipping under your skirt, his thumbs are brushing against the lace of your panties. His hand is sliding between your legs, he's slowly pushing the fabric aside, and his fingers are tracing along your folds, he's circling your entrance. And then his fingers are entering you, his thumb stroking over your clit.

"God, you're so wet," he moans.

"Thomas," you gasp.

"Mhm?"

"The sauce, it's burning."

"Shit," he curses. Then his hand is gone, he steps back and turns off the heat.

"Sorry." He gives you an apologetic little smile.

“Is this how you triggered the fire alarm before, cooking, and getting distracted?"

"Yeah, I tried to make dinner once, and I forgot to stir the sauce, and the next thing I knew the alarm was blaring."

“Making out? Or just distracted.”

“Just distracted, I wasn’t making out with anyone, I was alone in the flat, and had no idea why the alarm was going off, I was a little confused. It took a few seconds to figure out it was the food on the stove. Once or twice or maybe … more.”

"I'm not even surprised, and I can relate," you smile, and he grins.

"Sorry," he chuckles, and gives you a kiss, and his lips are lingering, and his tongue is licking against yours, and his teeth are scraping against your bottom lip, and his hands are sliding over your back.

"The sauce is safe now," he whispers, his nose is brushing against yours and his hands are in your hair.

"Let’s put together the lasagne and put it in the oven, then we can make out some more," you suggest.

"That sounds like a good plan," he says.

"Yes, very good plan, I know," you chuckle, his body is warm against yours..

You're finishing the lasagne, putting it in the oven and Thomas is setting the timer.

“Now I want more kisses," he looks at you.

He's kissing and sucking at your neck, his hands are pushing your skirt up, his fingers are pulling down your panties.

"Thom, we should wait until the lasagne is done," you whisper and he groans.

"Just a few minutes, please," he pleads, his other hand is gripping your thigh, his fingers digging into your flesh.

"Okay," you moan, his thumb is circling your clit not leaving you room to think.

"Thank you," he breathes. “Bedroom, we have a timer anyways. We will hear it, and can continue."

You nod, his hand is gone, and you're stumbling towards the bedroom. Kissing on your way and his hands are sliding under your shirt.

“Oh, is this …” he laughs, “finally what I wished for? Candy hearts in your bra?"

"Maybe," you laugh.

"I love it," he says.

"I thought, since it's valentine's day, and the edible underwear was a bit out of my comfort zone, maybe that’s close enough for you? Or too much? It's weird isn't it, I'm sorry," you say, and he shakes his head.

"No, not weird, I love it, and I'm so glad you did that for me," he says, and pulls away from the kiss. "You know what else I wanted?"

"Tell me," you say.

"This," he says, and sneaks his hand in your bra, and takes one of the candy hearts, and his hand is moving up, and the little heart is touching your lips.

"Open," he says, and you open your mouth, and his hand is moving up, and the heart is in your mouth.

"Now, can I take off the bra?" He asks.

"Yes, go ahead, you can eat the rest of the candy," you laugh, and he's pulling the cup down, and taking a candy heart with his tongue and he's biting it, and then his mouth is on yours.

"Delicious," he chuckles, and his eyes are sparkling.

"Yes, very," you smile.

"You're delicious," he says, and his mouth is on yours, and the taste of the candy and the wine is still on his lips, and his tongue is licking against yours.

His lips are moving along your jaw, and to your neck, and his mouth is sucking and kissing at the crook of your neck.

He's lying down, and you're straddling him, and he's reaching for your bra, and pulls it off. His hands are cupping your breasts, and his mouth is on the valley of your breasts, and his tongue is licking along your sternum, and his teeth are grazing against your nipple.

He's sucking, and his teeth are pinching and his tongue is flicking over the sensitive bud, and you're gasping and moaning.

His mouth is moving to the other breast, and his lips are closing around your nipple, and his mouth is warm and his breath is hot against your skin. He's sucking and his teeth are grazing against your hardening nipple, and his hands are on your back, and they're sliding over your hips.

“I think some of the hearts fell out of the bra," he chuckles.

"I can look for them later," you laugh, and he laughs, and kisses you.

"Yes, we'll find them later, now, can I lick the rest off of your body?"

"Yes, please, and feel free to use your teeth too," you whisper, and his tongue is licking along your neck, and over your collarbones, and his tongue is moving over the swell of your breasts. His teeth are grazing against your nipples, and his lips are brushing against the underside of your breasts, and his hand is cupping the other, and his thumb is rubbing over your nipple, and his tongue is moving lower, and his teeth are biting and sucking.

“Found one,” he says and nibbles it off your stomach.

He's licking lower, and his tongue is sliding along the edge of your panties. His mouth is on the lace, and his tongue is licking along the damp material, and his teeth pulling back the waistband with his teeth.

“I think you missed one.” You pull his head back to your bellybutton.

"Oh, yes," he breathes, and his tongue is swirling, and he's sucking and his teeth are nipping, and the candy is gone.

His hand is cupping your pussy, and his thumb is stroking over your folds through the damp fabric.

"Can I have a taste?" He asks, and his breath is hot against the damp lace, and you're nodding.

"Yes, please."

His hands are pushing the panties aside, and his fingers are brushing along your slit, and he's pushing two fingers inside, and curling them.

He's spreading your legs, and his tongue is flicking over your clit, and he's pushing his fingers deeper, and curling them, and stroking against your g spot.

"You taste so good," he moans. “Better than the candy."

"Yes," you gasp.

"And you're so wet, and hot, and soft."

"Thom," you moan, and his tongue is lapping over your clit, and his teeth are grazing against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Come on my face, please," he moans, and his fingers are rubbing against your g spot, and his tongue is flicking against your clit, and his thumb is pressing down on the swollen bud.

"I'm almost there, don't stop," you moan.

"Good, come on my tongue," he growls, and his fingers are moving faster, and his tongue is licking over your clit. “Let me taste you."

"Yes, yes," you whimper.

"Yes, let me lick your sweet juices, come on," he moans, and his fingers are fucking you, and his tongue is stroking over your clit, and his eyes are fluttering open, and when he looks up at you, you’re tumbling over the edge, and your pussy is clenching around his fingers, and the wave of pleasure is crashing through you.

"Yes, that's it," he breathes. "I love it when you're coming on my face."

"I love it when you're licking me clean," you breathe.

He's laughing, and his mouth is sucking, and his tongue is licking, and he's swallowing your juices, and his tongue is licking into you.

“But now I would love to return the favour,” you’re pulling at his hair, “and taste you too."

He's groaning, and his eyes are shining, and his lips are curving into a smile.

"Yes, please, I would love that."

You're pushing him on his back, and he's lifting his hips, and pulling down his boxer briefs.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Touch me," he says.

"I am, but where do you want me to touch you," you say.

"Anywhere," he moans.

"What about here?" You run a finger over his hipbone.

"Yes," he whimpers.

"And here?" You lick his abs.

"God, yes," he moans.

"What about here?" You circle his cock.

"Yes, please."

"Here?" Your lips are wrapping around his cock, and your tongue is stroking over the crown.

"Fuck, yes," he groans.

"Where else, should I touch you?"

"On my thighs," he breathes.

"Okay," you say, and your fingers are stroking over his inner thigh, and your nails are dragging over the soft skin.

"There, please," he pants.

Your mouth is sinking down on his cock, and your tongue is swirling over the head.

"Yes, there, God, your mouth feels so good," he moans, and his fingers are in your hair.

Your fingers are stroking over his balls, and over his perineum, and his cock is pulsing in your mouth.

"There too," he whimpers.

You're circling his opening, and his hand is fisting your hair.

"Yes, there," he moans.

Your fingertip is circling his opening, and he's gasping and panting.

"Can I?"

"Yes, God yes," he says, and your finger is pressing into him, and your lips are sucking his cock, and his hips are pushing up.

"Fuck," he curses, and his hand is pulling you back down by your hair and his legs are shaking.

"Are you close?"

"Yes, keep going, I'm so close," he moans, and your finger is pumping into him, and your mouth is sinking down on his cock, and your tongue is flicking over the head, and his body is trembling.

"Faster, please," he begs, and your finger is curling, and his cock is pulsing, and his hips are thrusting, and his ass is clenching around your finger, and his cock is twitching and his cum is spilling over his belly, and his hand is tugging your hair.

"So good," he whispers.

"Good," you whisper, and his fingers are tracing along your cheek, and you're kissing his belly.

"We should get cleaned up," you say, and he's smiling and his hand is pulling you down for a kiss. “Shit, does it smell burnt in here? Shit, Thom, the lasagne."

"Shit, fuck," he says, and sits up, and gets off the bed, and pulls on his boxer briefs.

He's sprinting to the kitchen, and you're following him, and when he's opening the oven, there's a cloud of smoke coming out. And somehow a little baking paper inferno has formed, and you're not sure what happened, and it's smoking, and Thom is staring at it, and you're turning off the oven.

"I'm sorry, I think I left the baking tray I made pizza on yesterday in the oven, with the baking paper.”

“It’s fine, just open the window before the smoke alarm goes off and the fire brigade is your guest again.”

He opens the window, you put out the tiny flames, and the oven is full of black crumbs. But your lasagne is salvageable.

"It tastes amazing," you say, after the first bite.

"Yes, the sauce is so good," he says, and grins, and his foot is caressing your leg under the table. “Let’s sleep in tomorrow and just cuddle. Maybe we should start our own little tradition.”

“Okay,” you say looking curious.

“How about we make that day of the first fire alarm, when we talked to each other first, our day? Eat pancakes, talk, cuddle, almost burn down the house.

"That sounds perfect," you smile, and he smiles and kisses you.

……

Tag list: Taglist: @oro-e-diamanti, @iamtashaquinn, @teenyweenynightghost, @findaqueenwithoutaking, @foreveryking-thatdied, @findoutwhoyougonnacall , @sunlightbabe , @little-moonbeam-666 , @ethaneskin , @maneskin-dimensione , @l0standn0tf0und , @butkutee , @gr8rainbowpunk , @maneskintifoso , @hiraetheral , @imjustanerdwholikestoread , @cuzimitaliano , @hopelessromantic727 , @wonderlandishell , @paralianeyes , @que--sera--sera , @roisinlove123 , @romanoffswoman , @lovelyy-moonlight , @crwnnjules, @lizzylynch1 , @maneaterdoll, @imposter-27 , @soundscuntfeelscunt , @gaiagoddess26 , @lonnybunnys , @lexasaurs634 , @milfhunter889 , @shinshans

[oro-e-diamanti]

The one with Thomas' fingers

Description | You have a sudden realisation about Thomas... and the way his fingers move.

Content | Smut, fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Thomas Raggi

Word count | 4300

***

It hadn't supposed to happen. This… realisation. Not after years and years of being friends, not after years and years of seeing them everyday, then every week, then every month, as they rose to stardom. There was simply no reason for any of this to bubble up below the surface, rise and rise, and breach your line of consciousness now. But it did. It did, as you were sitting in an expensive seat at the arena, eyes transfixed on the screens that showed a detailed close up of Thomas’ fingers as he played his perfect solo.

You had seen it, watched him, hundreds of times before, probably quite literally that often if you added up all shows, impromptu sessions, rehearsals that you'd attended over the course of your friendship. Had gotten countless opportunities to study him, learn him by heart, but somehow, this overwhelmingly important detail had passed you by without notice and all of a sudden, you couldn’t tell how.

If someone were to ask you, afterwards, what song had been playing at the exact moment it all changed in your brain, you would have been at a complete loss. All that seemed to matter was keeping your eyes on the screen, wishing you could be close enough to see it for real, silently lamenting all the chances you’d had without making use of them, as Thomas’ fingers continued moving over and with the strings, and you wondered if you’d ever seen something that beautiful.

Any hope of behaving normally when the show was over went straight out of the window as you made your way backstage, immediately bumping into a sweaty but deliriously happy Thomas, who almost knocked you over in the process, only just managing to hold onto your wrist, his other hand quickly finding the small of your back, pulling you back.

“You okay?” he laughed, easily, carelessly, but your brain was going and going and going and whirling with the sensations of how his fingers wrapped around your wrist so easily, slender and careful and rough at the same time.

His face was too close to you, eyes trailing over yours. You could feel the heat emerging from his body, could smell it on him, the exertion of two hours on stage, his chest bare, acutely aware of how you were pressed against it. Never had you ever wanted Thomas, had never even considered it in earnest, jokes about hooking up with one or the other member of the band flying around easily, but none of it seemed as funny now.

“No,” you sighed back, then immediately realised what you said and how his breath was hitting your skin and untangled yourself from him. “I mean, yes. Of course.”

“Having a normal one, you two?” Damiano asked as he passed by, giving you a much-needed opportunity to remove yourself from the situation and you took it gratefully.

“Oh, always,” you replied, not with a lot of conviction and followed him towards their dressing rooms, hoping for Ethan and Vic to join you sooner or later. Anything that kept you from being alone with Thomas as your heart went on a rollercoaster so fast it almost made you sick.

Your wish wasn’t granted.

As Damiano disappeared into the room, Thomas snuck an arm around your waist, holding you steady and steering you away. You didn’t have it in you to protest or fight it, letting the man lead you into a different room, letting him close the door behind the two of you, letting your breathing even out as much as you could. It didn’t last for long when you turned around and once again caught sight of his bare chest, a singular drop of sweat finding its way along his nipple and towards his soft belly.

“Are you sure nothing happened?” he finally asked, drawing your eyes away from their tantalising view and up towards his face. “Normally you’re as ecstatic as we are when we get off stage but tonight you’re just… quiet.” He mustered your face, as if he could find any clues in it. You could feel a blush threatening to rise. You had never been this awkward in his presence, but now that you were, you couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard you tried. “I’m just worried. If you want to talk, I’m here, or I can get Vic for you or-”

“Everything’s fine,” you interrupted him in what you hoped was a reassuring tone. What would you normally do in this situation? It seemed like your brain wouldn’t provide you with the necessary information. Hug him, you subconscious whispered to you. Touch him the way you would any other day of your life.

But it wasn’t any other day of your life and as much as your fingers itched to reach out to him, a different part of you was screaming at the implications of it all. But his eyes, his eyes, you had never wanted to worry Thomas a day in your life and seeing him now, knowing you were the one to cause these feelings in him, had you fighting against every fibre that convinced you to keep away.

Your hands found his neck, reaching up to softly place them against his skin, thumbs stroking along the rough stubble that was starting to form on his chin again, a familiar move that had never felt stranger before. You wanted to be normal so desperately but all of your moves caused reactions you hadn’t anticipated.

“We’re fine,” you told him, even though he hadn’t explicitly asked. You needed him to know, more than you needed him in that moment. His breath was hitting your face as he leaned in and you fought the part in you that screamed for you to recirpocrate the gesture and the one that wanted to pull away to safe yourself. Instead, you let yourself fall into the moment, just a little bit, let him kiss your temple, let yourself indulge in him with all your senses.

“I don’t think I could handle it if we weren’t,” he whispered in your ear. You couldn’t either, you thought. You really couldn’t.

It’s why you moved away form him, pried your fingers off his face, not letting yourself miss the feeling of his skin under yours, and put on your fakest smile. He didn’t need to know.

***

Two weeks. The band was gone for two weeks, travelling over Europe, doing more shows, promos, no time to come home, and you were left with your thoughts. Well, with your thoughts and too many videos to be found online that had you hyperfocusing on Thomas’ fingers as they played the loveliest of riffs.

You didn’t want to think about the amount of time you spent in your bed, cuddled up underneath blankets, your hands between your legs when you couldn’t take it anymore, time and time again. It was innocent, you told yourself, a simple fantasy, something temporary, you were single and bored, a slight loss of sanity every time you recalled the way Thomas’ fingers curled around your wrist, imagining how it would translate to your neck, your thighs, your breasts. It wouldn’t change anything. Surely.

There were text messages, the odd video call, from all of them. You followed their journey via social media, not quite part of it, but adjacent enough. And you counted the days until they were back, your best friends, the most missed parts of your life when they left, no matter how much you supported and loved them for doing what they were passionate about. Yet you couldn’t help your anticipation growing with every hour until you got to see them again.

***

The party was a mess. You had arrived two - three? - hours ago, falling into the arms of Vic and Damiano immediately, which was followed by chasing down Ethan, who pressed a kiss to your hair and told you he had missed you. Thomas was harder to come by, a quick shout of hello, hi, give me one minute as he was carried away by some of his friends in an apparent effort to get him to do a keg stand (American much?).

Now everyone was drunk or way past it and after dancing to yet another song you didn’t know with Vic, you finally pulled yourself away, accepting the drink that was pushed into your hand on the way, and made your ways outside. The pool in the garden was covered, just in case the cool breeze wasn’t enough to discourage people from jumping in. Your aim, however, was one of the sunchairs at the edge of it. An opportunity to get some air, away from everyone else, and lie down, trying to get the spinning of your head under control.

Sliding down on the lounger a little, you hoped it would hide you from anyone else venturing outside, hide you from the moonlight illuminating you, but it wasn’t to be. You barely had time to move the drink to safety, dripping some of it down your chin and your neck, before a body squeezed onto the space with you, moving you just enough that neither of you would slip off. The armrest was digging into your back, pressed against your spine as you turned to your side to study Thomas.

He was drunk, or on the verge of it, looking back at youwith blurry eyes, strands of his hair falling into his face, he didn’t bother to push them away. He was beautiful like this, wild and carefree and young and a walking, talking temptation. You could feel a drop of alcohol slip from your chin to your chest, having almost forgotten the near disaster with your drink. Thomas’ eyes were trained solely on your skin now.

He discarded his empty beer bottle, the sound almost scaring you as the glass hit the ground, but your focus was set on him, his fingers, the way they were reaching for you now as everything else faded into background noise. The urge to flinch was barely suppresible as his fingertips touched your chin and ran along the length of your neck, delicately tracing the way the alcohol droplets had taken, until they reached the edge of your shirt, stopping just moments before they would hit the fabric. They left a line of goosebumps in their wake as your body was set aflame, your breathing growing heavier.

Quickly, he scooped up some of the liquid that had pooled there, wiping it off with his finger, before bringing it to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick it away. You hated how audibly you reacted to him, a little whimper, saying so much more than any words ever could. For a moment, you wondered if he was going to put it in his mouth, give you even more of a visual than you were already getting treated to, but then he dipped it into the liquid again and held it out to you.

Your brain wasn’t quite catching up with you, leaving you in a stupor as you stared back and forth between Thomas’ finger, dripping with liquid, and his face, an anticipating look painted all over it, his own mouth slightly open, watching you just as intently. He tapped against your lower lip and as if on command, you opened up for him, letting his finger press down on your tongue, the taste of your drink mingling with his own.

The switch was tangible as you curled your tongue around his finger, closing your lips to swallow more of it into your mouth. If you hadn’t been sure if the attraction was one-sided before, you suddenly had the clearest indicator that it wasn’t. Thomas didn’t attempt to hide his moan. Fueled by a new kind of confidence, you grabbed onto his hand, leading another finger towards you, letting it join the first one. His movements were uncoordinated, restless, his hips rutting against nothing but clear air between you.

Thomas leaned over, his fingers still firmly planted in your mouth as you lost yourself in the taste and the feeling, pressing his lips against your cheek, carefully, then onto your chin with more force, travelling down and down your neck. You arched against him, gasped around his fingers, exposing more of your neck to him as you turned your head, his tongue licking a long stripe against your skin.

You didn’t know what would have happened, out there, squeezed together on the sun lounger, intertwined in ways you had never been before, but whatever you imagined didn’t matter because none of it happened right then and there. With a loud crash, the background noise came back to you twice as loud as it had been before, it tore you apart in shock.

“Where the fuck is Thomas?” a voice called from inside, then the sound of the door to the backyard being opened. Thomas moved away from you in an instant, jumping up from where you were laying. He spared you one more look, somewhere between surprised and disappointed, before running inside.

You stayed right where you were, trying to catch your breath and silently committing the view of the way his trousers had tightened to your mind forever.

***

“Please tell me that Thomas isn’t cooking,” you exclaimed as you stopped in front of his house with Vic. All you knew was that you’d been invited for an evening of food with the boys as she had picked you up at your place and led you through the streets of Rome.

“Oh god, no,” she replied quickly. “Damiano wants to cook, but his kitchen is being remodeled and Thomas’ is as good as new, ‘cause he never uses it.”

“Alright, I’ll close the food delivery app then.”

The chaos was already in full swing by the time you both arrived in his apartment. Damiano was screaming at Thomas to get the hell away from the stuff as the other desperately attempted to sneak a taste, spoon in hand and halfway to the pot of sauce simmering. The splatter of red against the kitchen tiles told you it wasn’t the first time this had happened. Ethan, meanwhile, was speeding around the table in the middle of the room, desperately trying to catch up with Thomas and keep him from causing more havoc.

In an instant, however, Thomas spotted you, almost climbing over a chair that had been pulled back to get to you. Effectively using you as a human shield, he hid behind your back, arm wrapped around your middle to keep you in place as he ducked his head down, trying to make up for the height difference.

“Don’t!” he shouted. “She’s innocent! Don’t let her get caught up in the war!”

“You’re the one who’s putting her in the middle of the battlefield,” Damiano replied dryly.

“Well, love is a battlefield too, isn’t it?” Thomas pulled you back further his other arm reaching around your shoulders now, hand flat against your chest, just underneath your neck. Your skin was tingling at the contact, you found yourself pressing backwards against him against better judgement.

“That makes no sense,” Vic judged, “but you do you, I’ll set the table for whenever you’re done with… that.” She gestured towards the two of you. You almost spoke up, almost tried to explain your way out of it or laugh it up but Thomas simply said “Got it” and walked the two of you backwards until you were out of sight. His hands on you the whole time.

“Hey you,” Thomas whispered in your ear, too close for comfort and not close enough at the same time, pressing a kiss against the side of your face as he held you.

“Hey,” you breathed back, entirely distracted by the way his fingers trailed upwards. “Missed you.”

“Missed you more.”

You gasped, audibly, as they slowly started caressing your neck, softly at first, then moving to wrap around it. Keeping you safe and secure, the only lifeline as you felt yourself falling apart. A little squeeze.

“You love my fingers everywhere, don’t you?”

You didn’t have it in you to disagree. The whimper gave you away as he grasped onto you a little tighter, leaving you breathless in more than one way.

“Maybe we should find out what they feel like in other places, too.”

The arm that was slung around your waist suddenly moved, grazing the fabric of your dress, almost, almost going between your legs, moving over your thigh, and then suddenly, all you felt was a freezing cold in the places he had touched you as he let go completely. He took a step back, but you didn’t manage to turn around, didn’t manage to move, check his face.

Instead, all that left your mouth in the most pathetically broken voice was, “I think dinner’s ready.”

***

The realisation, the lingering thoughts, the pining, the flirting. You didn’t expect the resolution to come in the middle of the night, but it did, in the form of a knock and whisper of It’s me through the door. He looked tired, sleepy even, and you were pretty sure he was wearing pyjama pants. Had he come here straight from home? Had he been in bed already? When he realised that whatever was on his mind was important enough to deal with right there and then?

You let him in without words, unsure of where to go or what to do, both of you left standing in the small hallway, looking at each other in the dark, trying to figure it all out through nothing but the way the other’s eyes glimmered.

“Can I?” Thomas asked. You didn’t know what he meant, didn’t know what he was referring to, what he wanted, but you nodded, always, anything. It didn’t matter. What had started with a friendship and had been interrupted by a sudden urge was evolving into something more, something more tangible, something everlasting with lightning speed. You allowed him to take the reigns.

He pushed you against the wall, gently enough not to hurt you, but his fingers were pressing into your hips in a way that had you feeling it in your bones. You melted under his touch and then, then his lips were on yours, finally, and it was perfect in a way that made you want to cry. You clawed at his back as you pulled him closer. You had been wanting this for so long, possibly so much longer than you had been actively aware of, that this felt like a release.

You couldn’t tell how you made it into the bedroom at all, your thoughts deeply clouded with nothing but Thomas, Thomas, Thomas but then you were on your back, sinking into the mattress, and your top was being pulled off and you couldn’t get your fingers to stop shaking enough to get him out of his own clothes as well. He didn’t seem to mind as he tenderly removed every piece of fabric covering your body, fingers and lips exploring what he exposed.

As he leaned back, throwing his shirt somewhere into the depths of your room, he stopped in his tracks, studying your body, the way your chest heaved with every shaky breath, how your hands were already reaching for him again, craving the closeness. He looked utterly breathtaking, pale, soft skin, every hair on his chest leading you down, down, down, your hands in his hair, nothing but an insatiable need in his eyes.

Carefully, his fingers traced invisible lines on you, your cheek, over your mouth, not allowing you to open up enough to get a taste of him, your chin, your neck, a hint of the grasp he’d had on your earlier, down to your breasts, feather-light touches on your nipples, down your stomach.

“Where do you want them?”

Your eyes darted between his fingers and his face and you knew that he knew. Had figured out your obsession, your constant thoughts, your innate need.

Your reply came in the form of your legs falling further apart, thighs spreading, inviting him between them. Thomas gave you the faintest smirk, already preoccupied with fulfilling your wish as utter concentration filled his face. You weren’t sure if it were down to him being insecure, unsure whether he could satisfy you appropriately - because as soon as he touched you, right there, you were reduced to a moaning mess, unable to keep any noises to yourself, all silent fantasies finally answered as he traced along your wetness and finally, finally pushed a finger into you.

Your hands fell from his body momentarily, letting yourself fall into the sensation that surpassed every single night you’d laid in bed and imagined this very moment, had tried to recreate it with your own fingers, unsuccessfully, as you now found. Nothing could come close to the real thing.

Leaning back down towards you, the angle of his wrist changed ever so slightly, making his finger slide inside of you even more perfectly. You desperately clawed at his back, silently begging for more, only to feel all air leave your lungs as he let another finger join at the same time as he put his lips against your neck. He immediately stilled, seemingly alarmed by your lack of vocalisation, but all you could do was whisper pleas into his ear and pull him back into you.

Your hands wandered lower, clumsily, and distracted with every single one of his movements, until they found his trousers, trying to push them down but failing miserably. Thomas let go of you, carefully pulling his fingers out, leaving you to cry out at the loss, already missing his warmth, the stretch. He made quick work of the rest of his clothes, barely giving you a moment to take in the view, to realise you finally had him all to yourself, naked and perfect, before he was back on the bed with you.

You moved to push him down, reaching for his hard cock, but he pressed you back into the mattress, gentle fingers ready to leave bruises.

“I just want to be in you,” he breathed. All you could do was kiss him, again and again, and tell him to do it. With a quick grab, you managed to get a condom out of the nightstand, handing it to him with shaky hands that had nothing to do with nervousness. He took it from you, letting you watch as he put it on.

Thomas’ whimpers composed symphonies in your ear, his dick gottenyour thighs, his hand holding onto it, pushing inside of you. If his fingers had had you close to seeing heaven, you were sure you were transcending into paradise now. Wrapping your arms and your legs around him, you pulled him closer, closer, almost making it too difficult for him to actually move, but your brain was focused on nothing but Thomas and the way his skin felt against you, the way his breath was hitting the shell of your ear in harsh bursts, the way he felt inside of you.

You were unravelling embarrassingly quickly as he picked up his speed, fucking you fast and hard, but you had no time feeling unconscious about anything, not with Thomas making you feel like this, moaning into your ear, getting closer himself. You just about managed to squeeze a hand between the two of you, touching yourself through the impossibly close contact, and within moments, you were barrelling towards your release.

When you came undone, it was like a flood you hadn’t known to be held back inside of you finally breaking out, the sensation travelling through your body, letting you feel it deep in every single bone of your body from your toes to your skull, vibrating with the intensity of it, unsure where you ended and Thomas began as he, too, came, harshly grabbing onto your flesh.

You felt yourself stuck in a trance, barely registering when Thomas pulled out, laid down next to you on the bed, held you close. Your breathing seemed to take forever to calm down, as did the beating of your heart, but when both finally did and the world shifted into focus again, it seemed clearer and sharper than ever before.

He gently ran his hand down your face and turned it towards himself, you were more than happy to oblige, putting your lips on his. You couldn’t get enough of him. You weren’t sure if you ever would.

“When did you know?” he asked, quietly.

“Know what?”

“That you wanted me back.”

“Wait-” You sat up a little, propping yourself on your elbows to get a better look at him, but he simply pulled you back into him and pressed another kiss to your mouth. “Wait, want you back?” You studied his face but you found no lie in it. “I had no idea you liked me.”

“I’m in love with you,” he smiled

You couldn’t quite say it back, not yet. As intense and deep as your feelings ran, for you, this was new and delicate and on the edge of scary. He didn’t seem to mind.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to catch on.” His lips so soft against yours. You suddenly couldn’t recall how you had ever not been falling in love with him, had ever thought anyone else could have been that one person for him but you. Now you couldn’t ever imagine not knowing. “I’ll make up for it, forever, if you let me.”

His hand on the back of your head was holding onto you securely and where the sensation of his fingers had only brought lust and need before you could now feel it intertwine itself with something that was so much more.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

***

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[till-you-scream-and-cry]

Pumpkin Spicy Night

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Måneskin (all of them)

summary: you had great plans for a Halloween night, which got changed by mother nature herself, yet in the end, it turns out much better than you hoped for

word count: 4.3k

contents: SMUT

author’s note: I tried to make it at least a little spooky, my first longer fic after a break so i hope you’ll like it, and well, it includes everyone so🎃

Måsterlist | tåglist | my chapter story

...

It started as a perfect, sunny day. Nothing indicated that nature would soon ruin and change the plans you made for that night. Halloween was always special to you, but this year even more than usual. Vic called you a day before and said that she wants to take you as her plus one to a party on the outskirts of Rome. You were friends for a while now, but after one of the weekends you two spent alone in their house, you became more than that.

You gave in to the sexual tension that was in the air and spent the most passionate night together. From that day you had casual, wild sex with no bigger commitment. It seemed like the best option for you and where you were in your life. Some harmless fun with no strings attached. 

You were really excited after her call, it was a promise of a great night in the best company you could possibly think of. Besides a good sexual match, you were actually great friends. You grabbed a bag full of different costume options, some makeup and car keys. Soon later you were in her room, sitting on the edge of her bed with your legs dangling from it. Vic was in the process of going through her closet, trying to find a lacy top she wanted to wear. 

“Maybe you left it at Nica’s?”  You asked with a faint smile, watching her growing frustration as she kept tossing the clothes around.

“No, I called her already, fucking hell where is it?!”

“Maybe Thomas borrowed it?” You leaned back on your elbows and frowned. “Damn, look at these clouds…”

Vic turned around and came closer to a window, she moved the curtains to the side and sighed. The sky got dark, the entire room looked as if someone switched the lights off. 

“Yeah, it seems like a storm is coming, a big one.” She turned to you, and at the same time, a flash of big lightning ripped the sky in half, making you widen your eyes. “Oh, that was impressive.” She said and her words were followed by a loud thunder which made the widows shake. 

“I don’t know if we’ll make it to the party before it hits.” You whispered, sitting up straight. 

“Well…” Vic smirked and walked over to the bed. She climbed on the bed and sat behind you. “We could just stay here and entertain ourselves otherwise.” She purred, leaning over to your ear, and pushing your hair aside. She placed a wet kiss on your neck, slipping her arms around you.

“Don’t you want to go?” You asked with hesitation in your voice. Her hands cupped your breasts and gently squeezed them. You let out a sigh.

“Oh, you still want to?” Vic asked with a chuckle. She grabbed the hem of your top and started pulling it up, to finally take it off you and throw it aside. “I think your body says something else…” 

“Uh huh yeah maybe…maybe we can stay.” You mumbled as she unclipped and slid the bra off your body. 

Vic kissed your neck, her one hand was teasing your bare nipple, flicking it and pinching it from time to time. Her other hand found its way between your thighs, brushing the damp material of your panties.

“God, you’re so desperate already…” She mumbled and moved the material aside, making you gasp as her fingers touched your soaked pussy. 

Her fingers danced around your folds slowly, teasing your clit and spreading your wetness around. She sat close behind your back, stretching her legs around you. She hooked them under your calves and pulled your legs apart, exposing you more. You reached behind and tangled your hand in her hair, gasping and whining under her touch. 

“Fuck I need to taste you…” She purred into your ear, taking away her fingers. 

Vic moved away and took your hand. You turned around and grabbed her chin, pulling her into a passionate kiss. You helped her out of her top and pushed her on her back, got rid of your panties and straddled her. You placed your hands on her bare tits, teasing them gently, making her sigh in pleasure. Vic watched you with a grin, her beautiful, blue eyes giving you comfort, she kept stroking your thighs, encouraging you to move higher. Finally, your pussy was only inches from her chin, she looked at you and smiled. 

“Good girl…” She purred.

Vic pulled you down on her lips and placed an intense kiss on your clit. You screamed and bucked your hips forward. She kept swirling her tongue around your clit, kissing and teasing you, faster and faster. You were already close when she started, her warm tongue was just perfect, pushing you over the edge. She spanked your ass loudly.

“Ride my face, baby…” She mumbled, and that was all you needed. 

Your hips started swaying back and forth, the blissful friction got you screaming and gasping erratically. The loud noise synched with huge lighting which drowned the room in a blue glow. You came with a loud cry, grasping her hair, riding out your high. 

“Shhh!” 

“What?” You mumbled, looking down at her with hazy eyes, still trying to catch your breath.

“Did you hear that?” She asked with a serious look.

“No…it’s probably wind or…” A loud bang coming from downstairs interrupted you. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so…” Vic said with a nervous tone and patted your thigh. You got off her and sat on the bed with shaky legs. 

“Maybe it's Thomas?” You asked, picked up her goodie and put it on. Vic grabbed her top.

“Thomas is asleep in his room, and the noise is coming from downstairs.” She kept looking at the door, biting her thumb.

“What about Damiano? Ethan, maybe?” You put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a light squeeze, feeling how tense she was,

“Ethan left an hour ago, Damiano is visiting his mother today. Fuck…” she sighed and looked at you. “We need to go and check. 

“No….Vic, no, that’s the main reason why people die in horror movies, come on.” You tried to grab her hand, but she was faster. Vic stood up and grabbed the candlestick. She yanked the candle out and threw it aside.

“Vic, love, do you want to fight a ghost with…this?” You could barely hold back the laughter, but Vic seemed awfully serious. 

“Oh sure, laugh at me, I want to see you fighting a burglar with a damn cross and holy water.” She scoffed and looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Exactly, now let’s go. And be quiet.”

The whole situation seemed a little ridiculous, maybe it was the fault of endorphins rushing through your system, but you were struggling to take Vic seriously, while she was sneaking up on a mysterious noise. Your smile faded away as soon as you stepped out of the room. The house was drowning in darkness, the thunders were making you wince every few seconds. The howling wind got into the house through an open window, rattling ominously against the wall. Vic closed it and grabbed your hand. She gave you an encouraging look before taking the first step downstairs. You squeezed her hand hard, now genuinely scared of what you might find. The storm seemed like a perfect time to break into someone’s house. The noises were muffled, and people would pay less attention to them. You finally got to the living room. The cold, stone floor was making you shiver, the room was dark, lit only by lightning ripping the sky apart every few seconds. It was one of the scariest storms you’ve seen in a while. Vic Pulled you towards the kitchen, then the studio, and a bathroom. Nobody was there. You checked the front door which was locked, just the way Vic left them when you came over. 

“One place left,” Vic whispered and pointed towards the dark corridor leading to the laundry room and the garage. She clicked the light switch but nothing changed. The power was out.

“Maybe let’s get a flashlight or…” You tried your best, but Vic was already grabbing the handle of the door leading to the garage. The next thing you could hear was her scream.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Do you want me to have a heart attack?!” She yelled, and her words were followed by chaotic smacking of…someone.

“Calm down, are you insane?!” Ethan covered himself from her punches.

“Jesus Christ what are you sneaking up like that?!” Vic threw the candlestick aside and put her hands on her hips, her face was red and her nostrils flared up. She was furious, he must’ve scared her a lot.

“I was on my way to a party and I saw the dark clouds, so I came back here to get a car. Just in time, it started raining when I got here. And the power went out and I couldn’t open out fucking electric door!” He ended up with a raised voice and a light kick aimed at the car tire. “Sorry, hi y/n.” He gave you a faint smile, “I didn’t mean to scare you two.”

“Hi.” You mumbled quietly.

“Well you interrupted us something important so don’t expect me to forgive you so quickly,” Vic said and pouted, cocking her head to the side. 

“Oh really?” he asked, looking you two up and down in a pale light coming from outside. You were barely clothed, had messy hair and smudged lipstick, Vic wasn’t any more representable. He smirked. “Oh, I see, judging by looks and moods I assume it was your turn now hmm?” He cooed to Vic and turned to you. “Well since I’m already late to the party, and you’re probably not going anywhere either…” He bit his lip and kept staring at you with a grin. 

“Oh I’m sorry, are you trying to fuck her or…?” Vic scoffed and stepped a little closer, wrapping her arms around your waist. “Would you like that, cucciola? I can tell him to fuck off…” He whispered into your ear, her warm breath tickled your skin.

“Well, to be fair…I wouldn’t mind.” You said quietly and looked at Ethan, who already had a big, proud grin on his face. You were open to anything, and Ethan was definitely one of the people you couldn’t say no to. He had this mystic aura around him, seemingly stoic, but so damn hot. And well, there were rumours you’ve heard that needed to be tested.

“Deal, but I won’t just look, I hope you’re aware…” She said to Ethan and pulled you to the living room. 

She pushed you onto the sofa and straddled you. Vic looked deeply into your eyes and smirked.

“Whore…” She whispered and pressed her lips to yours, kissing you deeply.

When she broke off the kiss, you saw a light behind her, spreading around a room with a nice orange glow. Ethan finished lighting some candles, he put a few blankets and pillows on the carpet and got rid of his shirt. He stepped closer, pushing his hair back, the candlelight made his muscles look even more defined. Ethan cupped your face with his big hand and stroked your cheek.

“You’re so gorgeous, I hope you know that, cucciola.” He brushed your lips as you smiled, and leaned closer to give you a soft kiss.

“Oh she knows, I make sure she hears that often,” Vic said with a hint of jealousy in her voice, you liked how possessive she was, but only around her bandmates. There was some kind of rivalry between them, very amusing to watch. But deep down you knew she didn’t mind sharing. 

“Well never enough compliments, am I right?” Ethan whispered and started slowly unzipping the hoodie, exposing your bare breasts. He sighed and licked his lips when the candlelight shone on them. “So pretty and soft…” 

He traced his finger down your neck, to your breast, circling your nipple before brushing it gently. You gasped quietly, making him hum. Vic knelt beside you and started stroking your leg, sneaking her hand higher and higher up your thigh, forcing you to widen your legs. Finally, she reached your bare pussy and cupped it with her hand. You closed your eyes and bit your lip. 

“Fuck you’re so hot…” 

Ethan’s hand wrapped around your throat in a light grip, you looked at him and parted your lips, unable to resist a sigh, Vic’s touch was getting more and more intense. You pressed your hand to his chest and started slowly dragging it down to the hem of his trousers. His breathing became louder as you put your hand over the growing bulge. You started unbuckling his trousers, staring at him with hazy eyes. Vic slipped her two fingers in, making you moan and grip Ethan’s arm. 

“Can’t wait to bury my cock inside you…” Ethan purred into your ear, guiding your hand to his cock, you gave him a few slow strokes. He was thick and heavy, twitching under your touch. “You’re just aching for it, hmm?” He asked and winked at Vic who added another finger. 

“We need to get you ready, baby.” She kissed your leg and chuckled. 

“Please…I’m ready, I can’t….” You whined, giving Ethan a pleading look.

“Oh, are you begging?” He asked, pinning his dark eyes in you.

“Uh huh, I am…” You whined and moaned loudly as Vic started pumping her fingers faster.

 Ethan grabbed you and commanded Vic to stop. He swiftly laid you on your back, on the blankets and pillows, making sure you were comfortable. He kicked his jeans aside and knelt in front of you. You kept watching him impatiently, spreading your legs wide, feeling no shame left. Ethan teased your clit with his tip for a moment, before slowly pushing in, stretching you around his thick cock. You moaned and grabbed the blanket so hard that your knuckles got white. He slowly pushed his entire length into you, and stroked your thighs with a proud grin.

“Such a good girl…” He mumbled between low grunts, picking up his pace.

Vic crawled closer to you and cupped your chin.

“Aww you didn’t think I’m going to sit and watch, did you? I think you owe me, love.” 

She took off her top, straddled you and moved closer, till her pussy was only inches from your face. You placed both hands on her ass, squeezing it and pulling her down on your lips. Vic moaned and threw her head back, her long hair tickled your tummy. Ethan’s grip on your hips tightened as he started speeding up. Your moans sent vibrations against Vic’s clit, making her whine and wriggle, bucking her hips faster, grinding on your tongue. Ethan got louder and rougher, you felt that your body was slowly giving up. All you could do was to hold Vic still and have your tongue out while she rode it, chasing her release. As soon as she screamed, and moved away, still shaking in convulsions, you felt that you were only seconds away from bliss. She got off you and laid by your side, cooing sweet nothings into your ear and playing with your breasts. Soon the wave of orgasm washed over your body, and the only thing you could see was Ethan’s face in a grimace of orgasm as he came deep inside you with a loud moan. He slipped out of you and collapsed, wrapping an arm around your middle. 

Your peaceful moment of rest was interrupted by a loud bang and an unsettling crack coming from the outside. The three of you jumped and looked at the giant window. The noise was followed by footsteps running down the stairs. 

“What the fuck happened…here.” Thomas was still half asleep, holding onto his pillow, wearing nothing but boxers. He looked at the three of you with parted lips, clearly surprised to see you naked in the middle of the living room. “What…”

“I was about to go and see…” Ethan pulled on his underwear and threw a blanket on his back. He grabbed a big flashlight and opened the balcony door. 

The gust of cold wind got into the living room, making you and Vic squeak before he closed them again. In all that chaos you briefly forgot that you were still naked. You turned around and glanced at Thomas, who was shamelessly staring at your tits. He cleared his throat and tried to fix the bent material of his boxers, giving up under his growing bulge. 

“We got carried away, alright? Don’t be a perv…” Vic chuckled, making him blush.

“No, come on, I didn’t…” he started, a bit annoyed at her accusation.

“Vic, stop it, we’re literally in the middle of the living room. Besides…” you smirked at him “I don’t mind the audience.”

Thomas reciprocated the grin and chuckled. Vic looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You could’ve said earlier that you’d like to fuck them all, there were things I could’ve arranged.” She said and got nudged in the ribs by you. “So? Do you want to fuck them all?”

“Come on Vic, it’s not that I planned it…” you looked at her, her intense stare worked like a serum of truth. “Well yeah, I always considered them hot, maybe I fantasized about them once or twice…” 

“You could’ve told me!” She smacked you with a pillow, “Not all of them are present but…” She glanced at Thomas, watching your bickering with curiosity. His bulge was still very much present, and the size of it made you wonder how great this night could be.

“Well,” Ethan interrupted you by opening the balcony door again and barging into the living room, soaking wet. “Seems like a branch of a tree broke and smashed our bin. But that’s all, no demons, no burglars.” He stopped and looked at Thomas, awkwardly trying to shield his crotch from him.

“Oh for fucks sake, don’t look at me like that.” Thomas mumbled with anger.” 

“Oh no, I’m not judging you dude, I’m not this much of a hypocrite. Quite the opposite, I would encourage you…” he looked at you with a grin, “This one over here is damn good, and if she’s interested…”

“She is.” You said with a smile. 

Thomas grabbed his cock through his boxers and smiled back. He summoned you with his finger and backed till his legs hit the sofa. Thomas sat down heavily and watched you crawl to him on all fours. You knelt in front of him, watching his pink cheeks, fluffy hair and lips parted from lust.

“Good girl.” He mumbled, and stroked your head. 

You pulled on the waistband of his boxers and set his hardening cock free. Thomas gasped and bit his lip, grabbing a fistful of your hair. You grabbed him firmly and gave him a few strokes, happy with how he reacted to your touch. The moment your tongue slid over his skin he whined and pulled your hair, making you hum. The noises behind you suggested that Ethan and Vic sat on the other sofa and kept staring at your exposed ass. Thomas pushed your head down, encouraging you to take him in your mouth. It was hard to fit his entire cock in, but slowly you started bobbing your head, making quiet gurgling noises. He started grunting, now both his hands were holding your head, dictating you the rhythm. You felt how wet you were getting, almost dripping on the floor, aching to get him inside of you. 

“Fcuking storm…what the hell did I miss?!” Damiano appeared out of nowhere, he must’ve used the garage door. 

He looked at the four of you with a devilish smirk, the water was dripping from his clothes and hair. You lifted your head, and looked at him, with saliva mixed with precum dripping down your chin. Thomas still had his hands in your hair. The only semi-dressed person was Ethan, yet his boxers were slid down a little. He must’ve started playing with himself at the sight of that show. Vic’s hand was between her thighs, her flushed cheeks suggested that she was doing the same thing. 

“Well? We’re having an orgy and nobody called me? Hi, yn.” He started taking off his shirt and threw it on the floor with a wet noise. He unbuckled his belt and looked at you. “Don’t worry, I’m just getting rid of this before I get a cold. Don’t mind me…” he said and kicked his jeans aside.

“Umm…well…” You looked at Thomas and raised your eyebrow. Thomas smirked and stroked your cheek.

“I think she wants to say that she wouldn’t mind having you here as well. Is that right?” Thomas asked and winked at you.

“Yeah well…there are things I always wanted to try with you two so…” You mumbled to Thomas and turned to Damiano. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. 

“Is that so?” He asked and looked at Thomas. “Thommy?”

“I don’t mind sharing…” he said while tucking a string of hair behind your ear. 

“And…would your fantasy include having both of us in you at the same time? Is that what you had in mind?” He asked and walked closer, looking down at you with a grin. You nodded. “Well then…” Damiano leaned to Thomas and whispered into his ear. Thomas smiled and stood up. 

They shuffled a little, Thomas laid on his back on the blankets and encouraged you to get down with him. You straddled him, allowing his hard cock to rub against your folds. He placed himself in such a way that you were facing the couch with Ethan and Vic, both playing with themselves, each of them with hands between their legs. Thomas started teasing you with his long fingers and sighed at how wet you were. 

“You think you can take it, cucciola?” He mumbled, placing both hands on your hips. 

You nodded and lifted yourself, to slowly lower yourself on his length. You took him slowly but in one go, feeling the wonderful stretch, spreading warmth over your body. 

“Fuck she’s unbelievable…taking you so well…” Damiano’s raspy voice appeared out of nowhere.

He knelt behind you and started kissing your back, and neck, cupping both your breasts. He walked around to the front of you, his hardening cock in his hand, he leaned down and kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Thomas’ hips bucked up, making you moan against his lips. Damiano chuckled and placed himself behind you. You kept a slow pace with Thomas, knowing what else was coming. Soon you felt Damiano’s fingers, and the coldness of lube, circling your other hole. He kept kissing your back and neck, playing with your tits with his other hand. Thomas tightened the grip on your hips, speeding up a little bit. Damiano slipped his finger in your ass, slowly at first, but seeing your reaction he hummed satisfied.

“Feels good?” He purred into your ear.

“Yeah…” You mumbled and turned your head a little to him. “More…please…” You whined, getting more eager from Thomas’ moves.

Damiano slipped another finger with a grunt and spanked you with a free hand.

“Such a good girl…” He started slowly moving them, you felt that the world was starting to spin. 

“Wait…” Damiano mumbled to Thomas and pressed his hand to your back to make you lean forward. 

He started pressing his cock against your entrance, and after a moment of resistance, he slipped in. You gasped loudly, feeling so full and close to release. 

“Still having fun?” Damiano asked, slowly pushing further till he bottomed out. 

“Yes…fuck yes…” You managed to mumble, making them both chuckle.

They found a common rhythm, pounding into you, making you moan and whimper incoherent begs and pleading for them to go faster. A few thrusts later you felt the orgasm so strong that you almost passed out. Your bodies moved in sync for a while, till all three of you rode out your orgasm. The room was filled with moans, grunts and screams. You kept panting, barely able to see from dizziness. You collapsed on Thomas’ chest, feeling them both slipping out of you. You looked at the couch, where Ethan just finished on his gorgeous chest, but Vic was still close.

“Look at me…tell me to come…” She mumbled to you, her fingers moving fast, three of them disappearing in her pussy, the other hand rubbing her clit.

“Come for me…fucking come…” You mumbled. “Please, I want to see you come, mommy.”

Your words worked, she screamed, trapping her hands between her clenching thighs. The wet noises filled the room. She looked at you with a grin and bliss on her pink face. 

They took great care of you, helped you to clean yourself up and wrapped you in a blanket. The four of you created a big cuddling pile under the fluffy covers, all gathered on the floor, limbs tangled together, breaths coming back to normal. You had no idea whose hands were here on your back, who was stroking your hair and kissing your head. All you knew was that you felt happy and spent. Damiano, still a little wet, lit a fire in the fireplace and slipped back under the blanket. Ethan grunted as he touched him with his cold feet. The storm seemed to be going away, the quiet rumbling was barely audible. All of a sudden the lights came back up. Thomas chuckled and sighed.

“Amazing timing. Well…happy Halloween guys.” 

...

taglist: @thewitchinthemountain @8iunie @oro-e-diamanti @tempobrucera @coven-daddy @bethanysnow @writingmaneskin @blackberryblossom @hiraetheral @theimpossiblehologramtree @ilwiwbysmv @weareoddlydrawn @jrj2 @bieberhoodforever @chesirecatt @que--sera--sera @iamtashaquinn @butkutee @ohdamiano @stardustingold @woahzz11 @cuzimitaliano @thegeminisgirl @bisexual-babygirl-mj @maneslut @eliseline @dpaccione @xweirdxsceletton @agentreid2 @roisinlove123 @vicdeangelis @ohladymoon @ykaaarus @androgynouscloudenemy  

[noahmaxim]

Lazy day - Ethan Torchio

I accept requests!

Warnings: beware this can be cute.

English is not my first language, so it may contain grammatical errors. I'm Brazilian.

________________________

It was a sunny afternoon in Rome, and even though it was summer there was a soft, cool breeze, the perfect day to laze around the house. You were sitting on a wooden stool finishing a painting that you had started a few days ago. A customer had ordered a painting of a full moon night, and you had to deliver it within a week.

A rather sleepy Ethan appeared in the room, rubbing his eyes in an attempt to wake himself fully. Her sleep-dazed eyes studied what little of the room they could still see while her mind processed what was happening around her. Without taking your focus off the drawing you say:

"Did you sleep well mi amoré?" Her sweet, warm tone doesn't seem to have woken her boyfriend up completely, he disappears into the kitchen for a few moments.

A smile instantly appears on his lips, Ethan was very cute when he woke up, his messy hair framed his beautiful face and that sleepwalking way of his makes him even cuter. He was like an adorable kitten.

Ethan has reappeared in the room with a glass cup full of coffee in his hands, he walks towards you tilting his head slightly to look at the painting.

"What do you think?" You turn slightly to the side so you could look at your boyfriend.

"Even if it's not finished, but it's really good" He leaves a kiss on the top of her head.

"Then I'll get back to work." You turn back to the canvas and go back to painting.

Thirty minutes or so passed, but you remained focused on your work. Good at least until she felt soft kisses on her neck.

"Amoré, I'm working." You smile, depositing your brush on the small table that was next to the canvas.

"I know, but you've been there so long. We hardly have time to spend together, so how about we take the day to spend together?" He continues to attack her neck with soft kisses.

"Fine, let's have a lazy day!" You get up, putting your arms around the brunette's neck, you place a kiss on Ethan's lips. He asks for passage with his tongue, the kiss was calm and sweet.

"Let's go to bed." He picks you up bridal style making you squeal in surprise.

Those moments were her favorites, the moments when you could just enjoy Ethan's company.

[itsmealaiah]

Vestito come un incubo

[filthforfriends]

Lighthouse

Thomas x gender neutral reader

Word count: 3.6k

TW: This is based on an ask I got over a year ago for a Thomas fic where reader is triggered by people yelling and he calms them down. Mentions of probable domestic abuse and vague implications of childhood abuse, neither necessarily physical.

Canvas bag in your left, Thomas’ hand in your right, the crisp spring air was maddening in that it made your nose cold and absolutely nothing else. Today was the first farmers market this year, more trinkets than produce because very little was ripe. Thomas wore a beanie to avoid being recognized, but got so annoyed with the thing that he took it off before you’d even exited the train. Now it was a bulge in his jacket pocket, taunting you with the possibility of falling onto the stale city street.

It was nice to have these as your day’s worries: skin bitten by the cold breeze, the lack of seasonal vegetables, a lost hat. There’d been a time when you prayed for the mundane, for stupid arguments over socks on the living room floor or the last cup of coffee already drunk. Socks could be washed and more coffee made. The problem with a broken home is that the pieces never quite fit back together. Too sharp.

“Hey.” Thomas shoulder checks you, using your intertwined hands to prevent tripping. He’s gotten good at spotting when your thoughts start circling the drain.

“Hey, sorry,” you huff, remembering to breathe.

“Don't apologize.” He kisses the top of your head, dramatically swinging your arms as a distraction. Because of the foot in height difference he’s jerking you around a bit. It’s annoying and very effective at getting you mentally unstuck.

“Okay, okay.” You smile, and instead of calling that a victory, Thomas starts walking backwards, tugging some more.

“I’m gonna trip and die or you’re gonna trip and die.”

“Such a pessimist,” he complains, with a theatrical eye roll. Tommy stops walking and you run into him, but it's purposeful. He’s ready for the forward momentum and drops your hand to wrap you in a hug. 

“It's inconvenient, how good you’ve become at reading my facial expressions,” you mumble into his jacket, zipper pressing into your cheek.

“And you can tell when I’m hungry when I can’t tell that I’m hungry.” 

“Mind reading is a cooler super power than being a hunger meter.”

“Mm mm, I disagree.” He loosens his arms so you can pull back and see each other.

“You’d look damn good in a cape though.” Tommy has this special smile that's exclusive to your compliments. He doesn’t worry that the adorable soft spot under his chin turns into a roll. His nose scrunches, revealing the minor asymmetries of his perfect mouth. Thomas had a tooth pulled on the right side at age 11, so only the left side is slightly crowded. In moments of intense passion you liked to lick where his canine overlapped with the tooth behind it. He never quite understood that.

“Well, I can’t argue with facts,” he shrugs, grabbing your hand and leading you towards the station. 

“Maybe they’ll have a cape vendor next week!” From then on, things are light hearted, because he's so good at that. The train is mostly empty, which somehow makes the plastic seating marginally less uncomfortable. Thomas takes a piece of gum out of your purse, laughing at the collection of accidently stolen pens bearing the insignia of various offices. Before he can crumple the wrapper, you take it and the Central Manhattan Dentistry pen to make a sketch of Thomas. He strikes a philosophical pose and you use your knee cap as a table for seven stops. 

“You need to pick a pose you can hold.”

“I can hold this,” he insists, chin in the deep between his thumb and pointer finger. He starts regretting it at stop two, but doesn’t admit defeat until stop five. Of course the drawing is horrible, but efforts to throw it away are met with progressively more zealous insistence from Thomas that the piece be displayed in custom framing. Through all the squabbling, the wrapper gets torn accidentally. Automatically, you brace for the fallout.

“Aww! You’ll have to draw me another one next week,” he laughs, rubbing your arm affectionately, lips to temple. It was his Everything Is Okay kiss, his You Didn’t Mess Up At All kiss, his I’m Not Mad At You Baby kiss, his I’m Never Gonna Yell kiss. 

“You know, I was thinking we should finish the ciabatta loaf today, before it goes stale. Your mint plant has been looking really good. I read this new technique where you turn the pot a quarter every week so the sun…” The gum wrapper flutters to the floor as you stand to get off, all of it forgotten.

Three blocks away from your second home and you realize it's gonna be one of those days. One of those days where your mind and the world collaborate to make you dust off every single coping mechanism in your repertoire. On the opposite side of the street a group of five wearing NYU swag are captivated by the epic row between similarly aged romantic partners. A man and a woman screaming with both windows open.

“Who the fuck doesn’t have the decency to close their windows?” This question is promptly answered, as the woman launches a speaker out of the second story window. Thomas stops to watch with his mouth agape, enthralled. On the other side of the street, you may be safe from shrapnel, but those college kids are taking chances with their proximity. What if one of them got hurt? Who would take them to the hospital? Which hospital? Would you have to call 911? Would they get mad at you for calling 911? What if the disbatcher fucks up and the ambulence never comes?

“You fucking bitch, this is the kind of shit that makes me want to wring your neck!”

“Oh yeah, threaten me, baby,” she replies with heavy sarcasm, bending over to push something towards the window. The man lunges in her direction. He’s going to slap her. He’s just picking something up. It's a toaster. He’s gonna bludgeon her with the toaster. No he’s throwing it out the window. This one lands on a car and the alarm begins blaring.

“Holy shit, this is like reality TV in real life,” Thomas chuckles. 

“I don’t want to threaten you! I don’t want to be that guy! But you make me into that guy!” You make me.

“I’M NOT FUCKING SCARED OF YOU,” she screams, hysterically trying to convince herself of this fact. She was terrified and sent a second speaker out the window. This one lands differently. Instead of a thud, you can hear it break into pieces as soon as it hits the cement. She has to get out of there. They’re both wasted, but she's belligerent and slurring. 

“I don’t want you to be scared of me, you crazy bitch! I deserve respect, as the man of the house!” he bellows. You shudder violently, because that sentence is way too familiar. 

“I already called the police so shut the fuck up!” screams someone from the unit directly behind you. This time you startle so severely that your feet leave the ground for a moment. The man throws the microwave out of the window and the glass tray inside breaks. The sound of glass breaking always made you nauseous, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t even blink.

“Yeah? And what the fuck do you think the police are going to do!? Fucking NOTHING.” Her voice is guttural, rubbed raw and trashed. You can taste the copper in your mouth, just like you know she can. Blood diluted by spit from screaming. 

“Get out. Get out! GET THE FUCK OUT,” she wails, nearly falling over as she points to the window.

“This is my apartment. I pay for ALL of this shit!” There's that male rage again, its only purpose is to create subservience out of fear. Compliance from children who just want the sound to stop, whose insides get twisted up everytime their caretaker uses fear as a means to an end and then calls that love. Children who grow up damaged because they were taught that the world is scary and ruthless and unfeeling. 

If you hadn’t been in the midst of a flashback, your reflexes would have been better. Plates, glasses, mugs, the sounds of these breaking were your biggest triggers, the thing you just couldn’t defeat. When the woman pours a half-packed cardboard box out of the window, you can’t get your hands over your ears fast enough. It’s all kitchenware and at least half a dozen plates have shattered on the pavement by the time you’ve muffled the sound.

“No, no, no, no, no, no. No! No, no! STOP!” Someone was screaming, but not the woman in the second story apartment. It was your mother’s voice, or maybe your sister’s. They didn’t even live in this state, what the hell were they doing here? You can feel yourself being shaken, and only then realize that you’re in the dark.

“Y/n? Y/n? Y/n, amour, amour, tell me what's happening. Tesorina, do you need me to – should I, um, do I call…I don't know. I don’t know how to help. I should and I don’t. Fuck.” Finally you’re aware that the voice is speaking to you directly and open your eyes. Tommy is alarmed, bordering on panic. Finally the connection is made: you were the one screaming. Seeing his face brings the present into focus. He’s sitting on the ground which is why you’re crouched over. Or rather the cause and effect is the other way around.

One artichoke is on top of the storm drain, canvas bag crumpled beside you. The blown glass guitar Thomas had purchased and entrusted you to carry is shattered beyond repair. That metaphor and the public embarrassment, is what finally brings you to tears. 

“I br – bro – oke it. ‘M s – sorry.” Thomas looks absolutely mystified until he follows your line of sight. Hands still clamped over your ears, it sounds like you’re speaking underwater.

“Oh my god, tesorina, I don’t care. What can I do?”

“Home,” you squeak, vision blurred. 

“Of course.” Thomas takes the bag and letting him pull it from your arm means briefly uncovering your ear. The couple are now whisper-yelling, sparing glances in your direction. Bucklist item achieved: screaming at someone to stop shouting and they actually stop shouting. The first step forward, a piece of the broken guitar shatters under your boot.

“I ruined it,” you manage to blurt, before giving into a gasping sob.

“It doesn’t matter, tesorina.” Little treasure. Thomas reaches out and you snatch your hand away without thinking. Betrayal. He hides it at an impressive speed, but it's there.

“I’m s –ss – sorry. Ruined it,” you sob. “I – everything, I ju –just –”

“It’s a piece of glass,” he whispers. “I love you and it's just a piece of glass. It’s a thing, y/n.” Slowly, you reach forward, and Tommy meticulously laces his fingers with yours, one at a time. When your hands are clasped his thumb brushes back and forth, soothing.  

You never look up from the stained pavement, not once, even during a busy intersection. You can’t tell if you’re crying because you can’t feel your face. No words are spoken, but Thomas’ anxiety radiates from every pore. You stumble behind him, led by the hand, stomach in your throat as you free fall into a storming chasm of childhood memories. On the fourth stair you trip and land on all fours, so Thomas leads you to the elevator instead.

“Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? Y/n?” You stare at the upholstered wall. Chocolate brown with tan line work weaving in and out of itself. You count every time the lines cross. At 36 something touches your back. You wrench away from it and whip around. Thomas is holding the elevator open with one hand because this is his floor. The other hand had tried to gently guide you.

The heavy front door slams shut. That sound hasn’t made you jump for months, but today it prompts a sharp inhale that has you choking on your own spit.

“Tesorina, are you okay? Are you okay?” The carpet had been freshly cleaned, but the cigarette mark burned into the cream-colored fibers remained. Vision blurring out of focus, you remind yourself that these feelings are from a past life. You no longer inhabit a space where they’re true. Movement in your peripheral makes you blink hard to clear the tears from your eyes. It’s Thomas, crawling across the floor. He kneels at your feet to meet your downturned eyes. He waits. 

He weeps. Tries not to, but ends up having to wipe his eyes roughly. Tommy is visibly sickened by the magnitude of his empathy. He feels what you feel, and knowing how unbearable that is, you reach a hand out to cup his face. He places his hand over yours, brings it to his lips. Tommy kisses every finger tip, every knuckle, then palm, wrist, forearm. At seven years old, you’d watched your mother get “Corinthians 1:13” tattooed in the same place after an AA meeting. She repeated that verse to you like building a shield. Looking into your boyfriend’s face now, you understand that it was never about religion.

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;  it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

You collapse into his arms and he catches you. Instead of letting you hide against his neck, Tommy presses his forehead to yours.

“Nothing bad is going to happen if you look at me,” he whispers. The habit was totally subconscious and you met his gaze. 

“Hey, here,” he hands you a paper towel. Gracelessly, you blow your nose. The velcro on the sleeve of your jacket scratches so you take that off. Usually Tommy would help, but he’d taken his hands away as soon as you were stable and was sitting on them. For some reason that makes you cry again. At first it’s a couple tears and then you burst into ugly sobs, hands hiding your face.

“Y/n can you nod yes or no?” You nod and Thomas lets out a long sigh. “Do you understand that I’m not mad at all?” Nod. Deep breath. Shaky exhale. Sob.

“Repeat,” you croak.

“Okay. I’m not mad at you about anything, past, present, or future. There is no anger in my body.”

“Annoyed?” You take a shuddering breath to calm down, able to stop the tears.

“I am not annoyed at all either. No negative emotions directed at you.” You nod and peak through your fingers. Tommy's eyes are so damn earnest. 

“No negative emotions directed at you,” he repeats. “I’m not gonna slam the door.” You nod, fighting the wave of suffocating anxiety from the mere suggestion. “I’m not going to break something or yell.” Back to sobbing, and now you’re choking on your own hair. “Shit, I’m sorry.” It was too close to home, but hearing the words would make breathing easier if not for the tears.

“Hug me,” you manage. Thomas slowly wraps you in a loose embrace. He’s leaning way forward, so your torsos aren’t touching. You climb onto his lap and squeeze, demonstrating what kind of hug you want. He sighs in relief and properly holds you. 

“Can I rub your back?” Nod. His right hand runs up and down, applying  light pressure. Seated sideways, you lean your head on his shoulder; hiccups, but no waterworks. Tommy’s Adam's Apple bobs when he swallows hard. He nicked himself shaving this morning. 

“I can’t tell you how sorry I am. This is my fault.” Just from his voice, you can hear that Tommy is also trying not to cry. “I know your history, but I just stood there and like, watched the worst trigger imaginable.”

“It's not your fault.”

“I should have gotten you away from there as quickly as possible, not stood to watch like a…” the self-disgust in his voice is palpable. “Piece of shit.”

“Thomas!”

“I’m not saying it was my fault, but I could have prevented it.” He lets out an uneasy, heavy sigh. This was way too much to navigate right now. Disagreeing would cause conflict and conflict would cause –

“Woah, breathe, baby, breathe.” Tommy rocks back and forth. “You’ve done nothing wrong and I’m just really sorry.” You scoff.

“I had a full fledged meltdown in front of everyone. Then I broke the sculpture.”

“I swear to god, if you mention that sculpture one more time.” Even with his voice void of malice, the blood in your veins turns to ice water. “I don’t care about the sculpture, I care about – Wait, no, no, no, that's not how I meant to phrase that at all. I care about you, not the glass thing, that doesn’t matter. God damn it Tom,” he groans, head tilted back. “Please breathe, amour,” he pleads as you shiver. 

“You lied. You are mad.” You get up. With tightly balled into fists, you walk to the sink. Rinsing your face doesn’t help and how he’s seen your hands shaking. You grip the counter and scrunch your eyes closed. How much anger had he buried and when was the reckoning? Would there be any warning? You couldn’t live your life bracing for it.

“Thomas, just get it over with.” You set your jaw, determined to stop the tears for good.

“Get over what?” he asks, standing up.

“Just fight with me now.”

“I just don't want to fight with you.”

“Just yell at me now and get it over with!” What was meant to be stern comes out as a scream, the same kind of scream the woman three blocks up used. Somehow the sound was still bottled up inside you, all these years later.

“Mia vita, I am not going to yell at you. I have never yelled at you.” You roll your eyes at his idealism, that hardened exterior that kept you alive going up.

“In every relationship people yell at eachother. Eventually you were going to yell at me. So just do it now.”

“Over a piece of glass? C’mon, we know this isn’t really about that. ”

“I’m. Not. Crazy.”

“Of course not.” He’s wide eyed and vulnerable, no defensiveness. “I didn’t mean to imply that, but maybe I did and I’m really, really sorry.” Taken aback, you wait for the rest of it.

“I know what anger sounds like, Thomas.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I should have watched my words and compartmentalized.” His tone of voice remains soft, regardless of your escalation. Again, you wait.

“If you loved me, you wouldn’t do this,” you snap. It feels like your heart is being squeezed in your father’s fist. Thomas is taken aback.

“Amour, I don’t understand,” he chokes, suddenly desperate.

“You wouldn’t make me wait and wonder when it's gonna happen, live in fear of when you’re going to snap!” The words fall to the floor with the same weight as stereo speakers out of a second story window. They just lay there on the kitchen tile, ugly and mangled. You’d like to clean them up before the grout is stained red, but don’t have the right supplies. Now you’ll have to get a carpet to hide the stains, or fabricate a perfectly anecdotal lie for house guests, or remodel the kitchen. 

Thomas pulls a bar stool out from under the island, carrying it so the legs don’t scuff against the floor. He sits down gingerly.

“Will you come here, please?” Deciding that Thomas isn’t the type to set traps, you walk over. Standing between his parted legs, you’re the same height.

“Look at me,” he murmurs. You meet his eyes and find no aggression, just his gentle demeanor. Tommy extends a hand, asking you to take it. He puts your palm against his heart and that iron clad exterior falls away. 

“I am upset with the situation, not you. I am upset at those people who made their relationship the whole neighborhood’s problem. I’m upset at myself for handling it poorly. I’m upset that none of the adults in your childhood acted like adults and now you have to suffer. I am not upset with you. I do not care about a piece of glass. I do not care if the whole neighborhood thinks I’m dating a crazy person. You are my crazy person and I love you.” What a relief it is to believe him.

“Shit, I’m so sorry –”

“No.”

“No?”

“You don’t get to apologize about this.”

“But in the elevator I –”

“Nope.”

“The artichoke.”

“Errr,” Tommy makes a sound like a game show buzzer.

“I had a full mental breakdown in public.”

“And?”

“I’m sorr–” He interrupts by loudly shushing you. “The snot!”

“Approval pending.”

“Okay, but for real, I’m sorry for screaming at you. I don’t know where that came from. Well, actually I do. I just didn’t know that it was so close to the surface.”

“Apology accepted,” he hums, wrapping an arm around your waist. You startle and Thomas begins to pull away, but you stop him. 

“I’m going to be jumpy for a while, but that doesn’t mean don’t touch me.”

“I hate that you’re scared of me,” he whispers.

“I’m not scared of you. It's a memory.” As soon as your hands touch his face, Tommy’s eyelids close with heaviness. He’s not expecting the kiss. The skin of your lips sticks together, tacky from tears and saliva.

“You are my lighthouse.”

Notes: Well wasn't that some nice light reading! I am an attention whore so feel free to give me feedback.

-XOXO Eden

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[hxllfires-gifs]

PAIRING. thomas raggi x fem!reader

SUMMARY. måneskin is competing in eurovision and thomas’ girlfriend surprises him with the help of their friends, to support her lover who thought that she would be staying home because of work.

WORD COUNT. 897

Y/N L/N WALKED around the airport after her flight finally landed and she gathered her luggage. She had flown to Rotterdam in order to surprise her boyfriend Thomas. The grand final of Eurovision was later on and there was a specific time that she needed to meet her friends at the venue. She made plans with Victoria, Ethan, and Damiano to surprise the youngest member but she also wanted to be there to support her friends.

She had a taxi take her to the place and she was met by Victoria who ushered her to the backstage area. She would be sitting in the green room with them once the finals actually started, but for now she was ready to see her partner. The two girls walked for a little longer before the H/C haired girl came to a stop. She could heard Thomas’ voice speaking to Ethan and Damiano most likely.

“What is this surprise?” Thomas asked, a tiny bit annoyed that his friends were trying to keep something from him and would not tell him. He had asked about it like fifty times, yet he still got no straightforward response.

“We will tell you soon, just be patient!” It was the singer who spoke up this time, his voice being louder than he intended. “You are going to love it, that’s all I can say for now.”

Thomas rolled his eyes at the two other males, not wanting to talk about it anymore because of the fact they were so hush hush. He wondered what could be so important but everyone in the band could be a little on the unpredictable side sometimes. Who knows what they had in store for him.

“Stay right there for a second,” Victoria’s words were more quiet so that Thomas was unable to hear. She turned and walked back into the dressing room with a smirk present on her face, not attempting to hide anything from the younger male.

Her slight mischievous energy gained his attention, causing him to focus on Victoria completely. “Why do you look like that? Did you do something you shouldn’t have?” His words held a teasing tone to them.

“Why do you assume I did something?” It wasn’t long before she feigned offense, not able to do it for too long though.

She glanced at Ethan and Damiano, who had the same type of expressions on their faces. It was time for them to reveal the big surprise. The bassist was excited to see how her friend would react. His girlfriend had been working a lot recently and originally thought that she wouldn’t be able to go to Rotterdam, but fate had different plans.

The de Angelis started explaining what she and the other two had been keeping from Thomas. “We are finally ready to tell you about your surprise. You’ve seemed a little…disappointed recently, so we wanted to cheer you up with someone special.”

This was Y/N’s cue to made her presence known so she joined the band in the room and her eyes immediately landed on the guy she loved so much. A look of disbelief had flashed upon his features but it was soon replaced with happiness. Thomas walked over to his girlfriend and wrapped his arms around her, feeling tears in his eyes that he tried to keep at bay.

“What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t able to come because of work. Are you staying for the finals?” There were so many thoughts in his brain that he almost couldn’t keep up.

Y/N laughed, finding his reaction a little funny but more-so precious. “Yes, I am staying for the finals and afterwards. I’ll go back home with you guys. I honestly thought I wouldn’t but I worked something out with my boss and she let me take a couple of days off. I talked with these three about surprising you and hopped on the first flight here that I could get.”

She rubbed his back once she felt his hands fidgeting, which was a habit that he had picked up because of her. He was the happiest person and it was obvious in that moment. The girl stepped back a bit and it didn’t take long for their eyes to lock with one other’s gaze. He had a couple of tears that escaped, which made Y/N frown for a split second.

She wiped them away before kissing his cheeks. “Angel, I’m here, okay. I came here to support you guys. I could never miss out on something as big as this.”

“I was convinced that I’d have to do this without you, but I’m happy that you’re here now.” Thomas’ confession almost broke the L/N’s heart but she was over the moon that she could be here in person to cheer him on like he and their friends deserved.

“I hate to break up this sweet moment but we have to finish getting ready,” Damiano reminded his band mates.

Y/N placed a hand on her boyfriend’s arm and smiled once more. “I’ll be here all night so go and get ready, rockstar.”

Thomas playfully rolled his eyes but did as she and Damiano said, going to change into his outfit for their performance. It was going to be a crazy night but he felt like it would be ten times better now that Y/N was with him.

[bulletproofbanditsorbust]

LIVE TONITE ❗

flyer i made for the Bulletproof Bandits band au i’ve been talking a lot about with @awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands <3

[cuzimitaliano]

SUPERMODEL (Tiktok Edition) Cursed Screenshots

[writersblockiskillingme]

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[tempobrucera]

Linger

Pairing: Thomas x Reader Wordcount: 2.2k Summary: 5 times you want to ask Thomas to stay the night but don’t + 1 time Thomas stays Warnings: Fluff, some yearning - I guess A/N: Short and sweet (short isn’t what I am known for and the other ones are getting much longer again) and probably not really good but I need to get myself back to writing. So many ideas are still waiting for me, next ones are gonna be another Thomas (smut) one and some more poly fics.

Add yourself to my taglist.  / Masterlist

.#####.

One

You can’t really remember when you thought about it the first time. About Thomas staying the night. Thomas in your bed, next to you, keeping you warm. The first time you thought about asking him to stay you can remember however. 

After everyone already left Thomas decided to stay.

“I could have another drink,” he had smiled, “And another cigarette.”

And he stayed for another cigarette and drink right at your kitchen window. Lit cigarette in one hand, drink in the other. Your eyes followed his movements, how he moved the cigarette to his lips. How he inhaled, then exhaled. 

Internally you sighed, aware of your staring. 

First there was Thomas, who leaned outside the window, looking up at the sky with a frown. Just before a raindrop hit your own face. It started to rain down heavily in a few seconds. Thomas flicked the cigarette out of the window before closing it.

“Do you have an umbrella for me?”

You did just shake your head, you don’t have one. You gave it to a friend a while ago and have not seen it since. There was another sigh from Thomas. 

That’s the first time you thought about asking him to stay the night. The image how you cuddle close, watch something silly before falling asleep, how you could touch him without worry. All the things you’re too afraid to ask for, you weren’t quite sure what he would think about it, if he would be surprised, confused, maybe even uncomfortable.

“Time to get wet then.” 

Thomas smiled at you before pulling you into a hug for a bit longer than usual.

Two

The next time it happens is about a month later. Thomas being home from tour for a few days and coming around when some friends are over for dinner. He brings a bottle of white wine. 

It’s a normal night, laughter, drinks, Thomas who compliments your pasta in front everyone, spaghetti still in his mouth. It has you blushing. 

You got closer over the last weeks. You feel like you are becoming a friend to him. But with that your longing also intensifies. A burning little flame somewhere close to your heart. You’re surprised that no one has called you out about it by now. Sometimes you can’t take your eyes off him, when he laughs or when he’s silly and cute. When he pouts at Vic. When he plays guitar which someone just put into his arms in a bar. Someone should have noticed by now but even Thomas himself seems to be oblivious to it. Sometimes he just looks back at you - and smiles.

Once again he stays behind again when everyone leaves. Even helps you clean dishes, hums some melody next to you. He looks tired, there are dark circles under his eyes. You want to brew him a cup of tea, wrap him into a blanket and wait until he falls asleep. But there’s that fear of him looking at you out of big eyes and to scare him away. That he could think that you’re too clingy. The fear of the awkwardness the question could bring.

He laughs about a stupid joke you tell him when you’re back in the living room. He looks good sprawling his long limbs all over your sofa and he doesn’t look like he’s planning on leaving soon. It’s already two o’clock in the morning. And for the first time you’re talking about something that goes deeper, that feels like a connection. 

You want to ask him to stay when he hugs you goodbye two hours later. But you don’t. And Thomas leaves, you can feel the brush of his lips against your cheek.

Three

The third time has you laughing and Thomas muttering under his breath. Thomas just came back inside from smoking on your balcony. 

“What did you do?” You laugh.

He’s only in one shoe - the other one missing.

“Fell through the railing when I stretched my legs.” 

“You don’t want to get it back?”

“And then some weirdo grabbed it and ran away.”

You snort. 

“For real?”

“For real.”

He sits down next to you and puts his head on your shoulder. He started to be closer to you, also on a physical level. It makes your cheeks heat up and sets a colony of insects free in your chest. Everytime his fingertips are brushing your skin, everytime he hugs you close, when he whispers something against your shoulder and you can feel his breath. 

“I guess, you don’t have a pair to spare in my size?” He laughs and gets you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“No,” you laugh as well. But you could stay here. At least until the morning and someone could fetch you a pair, you think. But all you say is: “Sorry.”

“Looks like I’m gonna walk home barefoot then.”

Four

Another night, another night you want to ask Thomas to stay. 

It’s the last night of Sanremo. Vic is lounging on your couch with a drink in hand while Ethan and Thomas are sitting on the floor, Thomas has his head in Ethan’s lap until Vic throws a pillow at his head.

“You're going to be the next Damiano?” She laughs at him. 

Damiano left an hour ago, his social battery running low. Vic rolled her eyes and made fun of him not helping the general situation until Ethan told her off and Damiano decided to flee out of your home. Now she’s throwing another pillow against Thomas' head. He looks up at her grumpily and the next cushion hits him square in the face. Ethan catches the next one while Thomas scrambles up from the floor, takes his drink and ends half on top of you not even a second later. 

You can see Ethan and Vic look at each other but they don’t comment. Thomas only cuddles closer and you brush your fingers through his hair, scratch his scalp. He sleeps through Vic jumping on the sofa, Ethan who moved up to sit next her telling her to fuck off when she jumps on his thighs and both yelling at the screen in Italian. He only wakes up when you whisper into his ear.

“Who won?” He yawns.

There’s no time to answer him as Vic already screams Ice Cream time and Ethan tries to shush her.

“You’re like a five year old on a sugar high already,” Thomas mumbles. Somehow Ethan still trudges to your freezer and hands out cold sweetness to each of you.

Thomas feels like dead weight on your legs when Vic and Ethan go to get their jackets and shoes. Ethan comes back with Thomas’ stuff which he dumps on Vic when he sees that Thomas doesn’t move.

“Thomas, c’mon.” Ethan mutters. “Or do I have to carry you out of here?”

You want to say that he can stay. In your lap, just like he is. Half asleep but Ethan and Victoria are both looking at you and everything you want to say dies somewhere in your throat. 

Thomas stretches his arms out to Ethan who picks him up with a sigh.

“Can some of you idiots please open the door for me and the bigger idiot in my arms?”

Five 

It’s already half a year since the thought crossed your mind the first time. 

They just came off stage and Thomas hugs you as sweaty as he is. Grinning and twirling you around a little bit. You laugh. The moment ends when Damiano gives Thomas a friendly slap to the shoulder and he lets you down. 

There’s dinner, drinks and dancing when they’re all showered and in their day clothes again. Thomas who chases after you on the sidewalk when you go back to the hotel. Thomas who weasels himself into your room before you can protest, throws himself on your bed - shoes still on, turns on the TV and grabs for the menu that’s on the nightstand.

“We just had a three course meal?”

“That was hours ago,” he looks at you offended, “I’m still growing.”

“Where are you still growing?”

He looks back at you and blushes. You’re sure you’re getting redder than him. Before one of you can say something Thomas buries his nose in the menu and you lock yourself in the bathroom. 

When you come back Thomas is sprawled out on your bed munching on some steak fries. He is completely occupied by the documentary that’s on TV. He only looks at you when you crawl into bed next to him, he gives you a slice of apple cake.

“You said cake is always a good snack,” he says before you can question it.

He’s right, you did say it but that was months ago. 

The point of the night where you can’t keep your eyes open anymore reaches sooner than you want to. Thomas moves next to you, takes the plate out of your hand, covers you up with the blankets. You force yourself to open your eyes and for one silly second you think he’s going to kiss you. He’s only kissing your cheek like he did so many times the last few months. 

“I should leave.”

But he’s still lingering on your bed next to you. As all the times before you want to tell him to stay. You’re sure you’ll feel lonely the second he closes the door behind himself, you would love his company and waking up wouldn’t be such a tragedy when you would wake up next to him. But there’s still the worry to freak him out, that you’re too desperate. 

“Good night.”

You can hear the almost silent click of the doo that announces that he’s gone.

Plus One

It happens again when Vic shows up at your place for a movie night. To your surprise she has Thomas in tow who gives you a small wave and a smile before he bites his lips. 

“Brought a chaperone,” Vic looks at you apologetically, “Damiano said I need to be supervised. No party, no fun.” She rolls her eyes. You’re asking yourself why Thomas of all people has to play the babysitter, it’s not like he’s known for saying no to a party or a wild night out. Maybe sometimes more tamed than her because as he said he loves his bed more than Vic would ever love a guy but still not the person you would have expected to look after her. 

“I thought we were only watching a film and drinking some wine anyways?”

“Great,” Vic says and ushers you into your own flat, “Thomas loves some wine and watching a movie.”

He looks like he wants to slap her and you’re sure he’s communicating to her without words, just with a look, at this moment. You raise an eyebrow but it is ignored.

You don’t think about it anymore when you’re all spread out across the living room. Wine and snacks between you. Thomas ends up with chips crumbs all over his shirt. Vic shakes her head: “Can’t take you anywhere, you’re a pig.”

Thomas just shrugs. 

“At least you’re a good reminder to myself why I shouldn’t go back to men. Your species is horrendous.”

He flips her off. 

Half way through the film they’re having another argument, Vic calling him a disgrace. You’re getting more wine. 

By the end of the film Thomas is asleep on your sofa while Victoria and you are sitting in your armchairs. Without thinking you get a thin blanket to wrap it over him. You blush when Victoria laughs. 

“Was a great evening,” Vic says when she gets up, “but I have to leave.”

When Victoria hugs you goodbye you finally ask: “And … What’s with him?”

“I’m certain he can find the way to the door himself. Or he doesn’t.” She winks. Then she’s gone.

You can’t bring it over yourself to wake him up just to kick him out. Which is why you let him in his peaceful slumber, you press a kiss to his forehead before you go to bed.

You almost scream when you wake up in the middle of the night, someone behind you in your bed. You’re close to a heart attack and the panic sets in.

“Sorry,” Thomas whispers, “Shit, sorry, it’s just me.”

“God, you scared me.”

“That was stupid,” he admits, “Sorry, sorry, that was a stupid idea.”

Only now you realise that Thomas has his arm wrapped around your waist, his face buried on your shoulder. 

“Sorry, I didn’t want to invade your space like this,” he says, “But … Can I stay?”

“I would like that,” you say when you turn in his arms. Thomas aims to kiss your cheek when you move the tiniest bit and his lips land on yours, your hand in his tousled hair.

He looks at you.

“Sorry, sorry,” now it’s your turn to apologise, “Sorry.”

Before you can flee from your own bed, he wraps one of his legs around you and gets you to kiss him again, this time deeper than before. 

“That means …,” he sounds a bit out of breath, “I don’t have to go back to the couch?”

.#####.

END.

.#####.

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[oro-e-diamanti]

Puppet Masterlist | Puppet Taglist | Ko-Fi

Thomas is doing everything he can to make your day special. Little does he know, everything is special to you as long as he's with you.

Content | Smut

Word Count | 4.4k

Lesson Seventeen: Learn to love.

When you woke up, you expected to find Ethan's warm body next to you, hoping he wasn't already up and ready for the day, but what you found instead was a pair of pale, thin arms slung over you and Thomas' nose nuzzling into your hair from behind. You turned around in his arms, sleepy eyes watching his alert ones with a smile. You didn't know what he was doing here or how he had convinced Ethan to swap places, but you weren't complaining as you snuggled deeper into his embrace.

"Happy birthday," he exclaimed and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before giving you a chance to react. You stared at him, confused, both at his statement and then the fact that you had, indeed, managed to forget about your birthday.

"Thank you," you replied, still trying to wake up and realise what day it was, but his face and the utterly peaceful look on it, mixed with a little bit of excitement he couldn't hide, had you grinning back at him. Grabbing onto his head, you pulled him to you again, making sure the kiss lasted, deepened, gave him a hint of everything going on in your head.

"What time is it?" you asked, realising you felt more rested than you had in a while.

"Eleven."

"Eleven! Don't we have to be up? What's on the calendar for today, you probably needed to be somewhere hours ago, Thomas!"

You were almost halfway out the bed, but Thomas simply held onto your arm and pulled you back into a lying position and back into him. You looked at him, baffled, but he giggled.

"I took the day off. We only have some interviews today so the others are gonna cover for me. I'll take you somewhere. Today is about you."

You felt like crying, in the best way possible. You were well aware that getting out of work was hardly easy for any of them unless there was an actual problem or emergency and the fact that he had managed to clear his entire day just to spend it with you meant more than any other birthday present ever had. Thomas didn't miss you getting emotional, quickly pressing a kiss to the top of your head and then pulling you further into his arms, leg swung around you to get you as close as humanly possible.

"No crying. At least not yet. We can keep that for when I make you come for the fourth time and you beg me to stop."

***

You couldn't recall where Thomas was taking you - you were sure he had mentioned the name of the place but it had slipped your mind the second the word left his mouth - but as you rolled down the windows of the rented car, warm summer air messing up your hair, and Thomas turned the music up to sing along, nothing really mattered all that much. His hand found your thigh, casually resting on it as if it didn't ignite a fire in you and you realised you couldn't remember the last time you were truly alone with him. Not with the others around, or next door, or coming back in a minute or constantly in earshot. Just you and him. A wave of nostalgia hit you, reminders of old-time adventures and sleepovers and when he briefly turned his face towards you and squeezed your leg, you instinctively knew he was thinking about the same thing.

He took your hand as you got out of the car, parked somewhere off in some residential street, before leading you towards the center of the seaside town, phone in his other hand to make sure he would find the way. The palm of your skin was getting sweaty, a little more with every step you took. You couldn't help but wonder if it was the sun, high in the sky and warming you up, or the way being with Thomas somehow felt different. You followed him blindly, you always had, as he pulled you past little shops and boutiques full of trinkets, up a little hill, crossing streets, all the way making sure to catch your eyes every now and then, a serene but excited smile playing on his lips.

You were so focused on him, the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, how his blond hair was just inviting you to tread your fingers through its strands, how his jeans hugged his hips just right, that you almost missed the moment he stopped walking. The beach. Miles and miles of water ahead of you, no land in sight at the end of it, nothing but pure blue lapping at the sand in gentle waves. You would have expected more people to be around, but it being a weekday meant you were only joined by a family with a small child happily playing in the sand, a couple on a walk, and a few people letting their dogs run. It was perfect.

It wasn't about the place. It wasn't about the sun shining down on you or the ocean sparkling in front of you or the way the breeze didn't manage to cool your cheeks enough to make them appear any less red. It was about him. It was all about him.

There was something intensely intimate about the way he wrapped you in his arms, holding you tight and secure, and claimed your mouth with his in a sweet yet passionate kiss. You melted against him, molding yourself to his body, filling all the nooks and crannies just as he was doing yours. A sigh travelled from you to him, breathing exchanged without any hurry, your body ignited. You only let go of him because the realisation that you were very much in a public place filled your brain, but even then you couldn't bring yourself to separate your bodies. Staying in his embrace, you simply looked up at him as he looks back at you, eyes saying everything you couldn't make sense of just yet.

Thomas' rumbling stomach interrupted the moment, both of you breaking out in giggles.

"Come on," he said, taking your hand again. "I've made a reservation."

***

"Best table for the honeymoon couple," the waiter grinned as he led you to what was arguably the best view you could have in the seaside restaurant. It was a little more fancy than you would have expected, but as soon as you sat down at the floor-length window, staring at the vastness of the water outside, none of it mattered anymore. You turned toward Thomas as soon as the waiter left you with the menus.

"Honeymoon couple?"

He blushed gorgeously. "It was impossible to get a table here. I might have flunked a bit to get them on my side."

The giggle, both at his embarrassment and the situation itself, travelled up your throat until it bubbled out of you.

"Well, shouldn't my newly-appointed husband at least be holding my hand then?" You laughed but Thomas didn't hesitate in reaching for you over the table and engulfing your hand in his larger one. "Maybe that way they won't notice the lack of, you know, wedding rings."

"We'll just say we're a very modern couple who doesn't believe in wedding rings," Thomas made up on the spot. "Besides, if I were to mark you as mine, I'd rather put a choker on you."

You choked indeed, only unfortunately it was on the water you were trying to sip and not a leather band round your neck. Thomas' face was smug and knowing. How had this happened? When had he gotten so confident and bold and open? Or was it just when he was with you?

Your train of thought was interrupted by the approaching waiter.

"A wine on the house to toast to the new marriage!"

Thomas and you tried your hardest to hold in your giggles, luckily managing at least until the waiter had left. Thomas immediately moved the glass towards you, clicking it with his own as you lifted it up.

"To your birthday, and our wedding night," he grinned as you raised your brow at him with a smirk. "It's all about you tonight, cucciola. To you."

***

The sun was setting by the time you were making your way to your room for the night. You took your time wandering through the small town after dinner, both of you complaining about having eaten too much, and you desperately needed some movement to feel less bloated. Even if you weren't quite sure what his plans for the night were, yours didn't exactly include a lot of sleeping, and you wouldn't be enjoying that with a belly painfully full of food.

Stopping by the car, you both took a bag each with whatever you had carelessly packed that morning. You were already turning away when you saw him grabbing another tote back, bulky, but carefully covered with something in wrapping paper at the top so you couldn't get any hints towards its contents. Thomas grinned as he noticed you staring.

"Couple of presents for the birthday girl," he explained, pressing a kiss to your lips before closing the trunk of the car.

"Presents or presents?" you asked with a smirk, not entirely sure if there were actually toys of that purpose present or if you were mainly hoping for it, a little bit. You hadn't forgotten about his panicked escape from the sex shop in Berlin.

Thomas simply laughed as he took your hand and dragged you away. "That's for me to know and you to find out."

***

You were too stunned to speak when Thomas presented you with your room for the night. It was more than a room. You had expected him to maybe splurge a bit, get a fancy hotel, room service, pulling all the stop, but this was so much better.

The bungalow was on the beach, literally right at the sea, hidden only by a fence of bamboo shoots and the dunes in the back. He unlocked the door, glass all around to give you the best view of the surroundings, curtains still drawn open. The place was homely, comfortable, a modern touch without feeling cold and your heart seemed to leap out of your chest. It was simply perfect, and, somehow, Thomas had known.

You hugged him even before he had properly set the bags down but he reciprocated without hesitation. You mumbled a thank you in his hair and the only way you could be sure he heard is by the way he squeezed you that little bit tighter. You almost felt dazed as you let go of him.

"Well, while I do have plans for tonight," he smirked with a less-than-subtle nod towards the large bed in the room, "your presents are up first. They're from all of us."

You didn't protest as he pulled away, motioning for you to take a seat at the table as he one by one put the wrapped-up assortment of his bag onto it. You didn't question how they managed to get wrapping paper or, in fact, take the time to acquire any presents at all. As soon as he nodded at you, you started tearing into them, childlike excitement taking over you. Thomas kept quiet as your gasps and squeals filled the room.

Various sewing tools littered the table, scissors, colourful thread, a rotary cutter with an accompanying mat, a new seam ripper - you wondered if this one was chosen by Damiano in memory of the first time you ever hinted at your skills -, accessories for the sewing machine they had gifted you, everything clearly expensive and of high quality. The next one was a pair of earrings, one in the shape of a pair of scissors, the other a thimble, and you fell in love immediately. It was followed by a voucher for you to sew a piece of your choice for each of them to be worn on their upcoming tour.

"Okay, that one might be a bit of a selfish present," Thomas laughed. You sent him a look, but quickly followed in laughing. It was an honour, still, even if they also did it simply to have something of yours as their very own.

"This one's just from me," he sheepishly admitted as he pushed the last present toward you. This one you unwrapped rather carefully, even if it was obviously wrapped the worst, but it had you assuming Thomas had insisted on doing it on his own. You were greeted with a perfume bottle. For a moment, you were slightly confused, recognising it as a men's perfume, but then the realisation dawned on you, even before he spoke. "It's the one I wear. I don't know it's probably a stupid idea, but I know you like it and I thought... well you're leaving for uni soon and I just thought maybe it would remind you of me when I'm not around."

You watched as he became more restless with every word, fumbling with his hair, pushing it behind his ears just to shake it free again, his eyes not quite meeting yours. You stood up immediately, crossing the short distance between the two of you to pull him up from his seat and force him to look at you.

"It's the best one," you told him, earnestly, as you held his face in your hands. "I love it."

You hoped the kiss would tell him everything he needed to know. You thought it was working, too, as he deepened it almost instantly, wrapping you in his arms. The backward movement was barely noticeable to you as it was so slow and natural, until your legs hit the ledge of the bed and you inadvertently broke the kiss as you dropped onto it.

You were dying to pull Thomas with you, the yearning you'd had for him all day increased by tenfold, but he simply gave you a smile, before turning around and diligently closing all the curtains of the place, securing utmost privacy for the two of you. The confirmation of what it meant would follow only got you more excited. He brought the bag with him as he came back to you, a dangerous glint in his eyes, telling you he knew things you had no clue about yet. It would have made you nervous with anyone else, but with him you simply felt calm anticipation.

Thomas took his time undressing you. Every show of skin was accompanied by kisses, licks, the tiniest bites on your flesh. Your shirt was quickly discarded, along with your bra. You expected him to stop at your breasts, pay them more attention, but he had other plans in mind. Your trousers were gone quickly, boots thrown away and socks following, delicate fingers pulling down your panties. He mustered you closely, making sure to take in every inch of your naked body, but it didn't make you feel insecure. It made you feel loved.

"Lie down on your front."

You weren't sure if you had ever heard Thomas command you around with a steady voice, but it was an immense turn-on, so you followed quickly. The sheets were soft against your naked skin, slightly colder than your body as it kept heating up and you almost felt embarrassed at how easily he got you in the mood, how easily he had you in the palm of his hand. You heard him rustling around behind you, but you didn't dare lift your head and look. Your idea about him keeping you in the unknown was confirmed when he softly touched your head, motioning for you to lift it up, and slipped a blindfold over your eyes.

"Is this okay?"

His voice wasn't showing any uncertainty, but the question was important.

"Yes," you sighed happily. The lack of sight was already heightening your perception of his touch.

"Tell me if it gets too much."

You nodded into the pillow, almost struggling not to move as you wondered what his next move would be. "Just... Can you get undressed? I want to feel you closer."

He didn't answer as he moved off the bed but you could hear the familiar rustle of fabric, the low thud of his shoes hitting the floor, the metallic clicking of his belt buckle. Then he was back on the bed, another noise you couldn't quite place, but he straddled your back and you could feel his skin on yours without any barriers. The happy sigh that escaped you turned into a thankful moan as his hands landed on your back, wet and sticky - massage oil.

You hadn't been aware how tense you had been, how tight your muscles had become, until Thomas' hands started working their magic. You treasured every little touch, however light or hard, along your neck, your shoulders, your spine, to the small of your back. It was impossible to recall the last time you had felt so relaxed.

It didn't last long, in the end, as his way of moving against your skin slowly changed. More and more, his fingers became daring, went lower, all over your back, dipping down the sides to trace the side of your breasts, a hint of a touch. You couldn't hide just how much you wanted him, how much you needed it. There was no way to stop the impatient wiggling under him as you craved more from him.

Thomas' hands became more daring, lingering longer on the side of your breasts with a heavier grasp, then wandering lower, lower, repositioning himself as he started kneading the flesh of your thighs. They spread almost instinctively, silently begging for more as you could feel your arousal heightening, wetness increasing with every second he came closer to the upper parts of your legs, thumbs dangerously close to your inner thighs. You wanted to scream in impatience, telling him you were ready, demanding more, but he didn't give you a chance.

Before you could quite process what was happening, his hand was fully between your legs, two fingers entering you at the same time, easily aided by your ever-increasing wetness and the massage oil on him. Your moans filled the room as he worked on you, slowly, sensually moving inside of you, almost to the point of pulling his fingers all the way out, before repeating the sensation. Your walls were clenching around him, needing more, needing them deeper, but he wasn't being merciful.

A third finger joined and you wanted to scream at how nicely they fit inside of you, how perfectly his long, skinny fingers stroked you, but you were still craving him in a different way. His other hand was wandering all around your body, touching every inch of your skin, the oil slowly drying as his fingertips danced along it. It was sweet and sensual and sexy and it was making you lose your mind.

When Thomas removed his fingers, you wanted to cry out, but in an instant, his hands were grabbing at your hips, lifting them up until you had scrambled to get on your knees for him, your head still on the pillow, mindlessly holding yourself up on your elbows as the anticipation rose.

"Gonna be a good girl for me and let me treat you right?" He all but whispered, barely audible over your intense heartbeat, but you nodded, a gasped yes, pushing your butt towards him more in encouragement.

Thomas entered you slowly, carefully, as if he was afraid you would break, even though both of you knew there wasn't any danger in that. He stilled for a moment as he was fully inside of you, leaning over you to press soft kisses on your back and you felt whole.

"Thomas... please." You couldn't keep the pleading inside. You felt him everywhere, inside and all around you, between your legs, against your back, in your head, in your heart. He finally took mercy on you, almost coaxing a tear out of you as he started moving. It was intense right from the first thrust. Thomas was attentive to your every move, to your every need, and he fulfilled it all perfectly as he fucked you. If it had been anyone else, you would have felt self-conscious about the way the orgasm was already building deep inside of you, a pool of lust daring to erupt at any moment, but this was Thomas, taking care of you, loving you, and you didn't find anything in you that cared.

His rhythm faltered for a moment and you wondered what had him distracted, too deep in your own pleasure to notice what he was doing, but then his arm curled around you and on his next thrust, a vibration pushed against your clit and all through your body. It was all-encompassing and you knew it was going to happen before it did. The tell-tale sign in your lower belly made you nervous for a split second, a brief panic about being in a room that wasn't your own, on a blanket that wasn't your own, but you had no way of stopping it.

Your mind was too clouded to remember the details, all you knew was an intense feeling of wetness splashing down your thighs, Thomas groaning deeply and spurring you on, fucking you harder, then the knot in your stomach untangling like an explosion, coming on his dick, squirting, crying and moaning, feeling him come inside you.

Reaching your height left you dazed. You let Thomas take care of everything, slipping the blindfold off you, letting him move you around to remove the top blanket, providing you with towels and water, before sneaking back into the bed with you and holding you close. You snuggled into him immediately, catching your breath and listening to his heartbeat as it slowly came back to normal.

His hand on your cheek, he pulled your head towards him. The kiss was soft and sweet but full of emotions you weren't able to make sense of in your post-orgasmic haze. All you knew was you needed him closer. Wrapping your arms around him, you moved him to you, shuffling until he was fully on top of you. Nothing else would do. You'd hardly had the chance to explore his body before. It didn't matter that you seemed to know it by heart already. You would never grow sick of letting your hands run over his skin, feel his chest against yours, follow the little trail down his stomach, it was exciting and arousing all the same.

The kiss became more frenzied. You simply couldn't get enough of his lips against yours, his tongue in your mouth, his taste on you. Your legs easily wrapped around them, still a little shaky, but determined to leave no space between you. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once. You could feel him growing against you.

"Already up for it again?" you smirked and he dropped his head on your shoulder with a laugh.

"Are you?" he countered, and somehow, you couldn't stop a blush rising on your cheeks as you nodded.

He didn't refrain from kissing you for too long, both of you still insatiable, a deeply routed need for each other overcoming you. You could feel his heart against your own chest, so close that every piece of him seemed to become a piece of you. You felt at ease and excited beyond belief at the same time. When he pulled back to catch his breath, you took the moment to study his face. You'd stared at him a million times before, you were sure, but you couldn't get enough. Fingers tracing over every curve and dimple, you simply took him in.

With your eyes fixated on each other, he reached down, taking hold of himself, and pushing into you once again. It felt different in the best way possible. Joined together by more than just a sexual act. He moved slowly, his forehead pressed against yours as if he simply couldn't get close enough. There was a connection that had never been there before, not with him, not with anyone else. No toys, no props, no dirty talk, just the two of you telling each other everything with their eyes.

Thomas' soft whimpers increased steadily as your moans got louder, noises somewhere between gasping and on the verge of crying. You didn't notice that tears were actually rolling down your cheeks until Thomas started wiping them away. His eyes showed worry, but you simply smiled at him and pulled him into another kiss and he knew.

Both of your movements got more frantic as you chased the high, still impossibly intertwined, your thighs tightly wrapped around him, when it fell from your lips.

"I love you."

You'd told each other before, all of you, many times, but...

"I love you too."

You came with a cry and it seemed to be all it took to push him over the edge as well. You clung to each other, passionately, desperately, as you felt your orgasms travel through every single part of your body, lighting you up and setting you aflame.

The past weeks had changed so much. You'd learned and grown and matured and rediscovered old friendships and new connections. You weren't the person that had shily accepted the band's invitation to stay with them anymore. And yet, as you lay in Thomas' arms, it felt like no time had passed at all from those sleepovers back in the day, only the two of you, rooms dark and silences filled heartbeats. The way it had always meant to be.

***

The morning light hit your eyes through the partially opened blinds. Thomas was standing in front of the window, looking out at the empty beach. He was on the phone but didn't say anything apart from affirmative noises. The desire to get up and trace your fingers over his backside, feel over every little beauty mark, was high, but you were comfortably wrapped up in the sheets still, so you decided to enjoy the view instead.

When he finally hung up and turned around, you were surprised by the serious look on his face. It didn't change, even as he stared straight at you and it had your heart beating out of your chest in the most uncomfortable way.

"What is it?" you asked, sitting up immediately, clutching the sheet to your naked chest.

"We need to go back. There's been more paparazzi photos. With you in them. Management has set up a meeting with all of us."

"All-"

"I'm sorry. They want to talk to you, too."

You had no idea what was ahead, but the queasiness running through your whole body had you convinced it wasn't going to be good.

***

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[capuletoo]

Blue Valentine — Thomas Raggi

—note: it’s been so since i wrote something for måneskin…please please request something because i wanna write for them but have no ideas

—TW: stealing hehe, fluff | thomas raggi x fem!reader

—summary: After a party the reader meets a boy with a motorcycle

—words: 1.3k

THE WORDS IN ITALICS ARE LYRICS OF THE SONG ‘BETWEEN THE BARS’ BY ELLIOTT SMITH

You end up leaving with regret. You don't want to go back to the party. In addition, the effects of alcohol are beginning to dissipate: You tremble with cold and your head throws you atrociously. Arms crossed in a vain attempt to comfort and venture randomly into the street. There are not even cats, it seems that you are alone. Footsteps resonate in silence.

“Drink up baby,

stay up all night with the things you could do,

you won't but you might…”

You take the opportunity to sing, just to warm up.

“The potential you be that you never see,

the promises you'll only make. Drink up one more time,

and forget all about the pressure of days.

Do what I say and I'll make you okay,

I'll drive away the images stuck in your head…”

The coolness of the street and the dull noise of cars in the distance take a weight off your shoulders. You feel strangely lighter. Maybe because you are far away from the party, or perhaps because you're disappointed.

“People you've been before that you don't want around anymore…” A second voice is added to yours. “They push each other and won't bend to your will, I'll keep them still.”

The voice is clear and suave. You immediately turn around to see a slender silhouette wedged against a black motorcycle a few metres away. Same black shirt that reads joy division same face. He's the boy with the red chipped guitar

“You have a pretty voice” he compliments. “Why didn't you go on stage earlier?”

“I don't sing in public.” You bite your lower lip, unsure of his intentions. After all, you don't know him.

“It's a shame.” He detaches himself from the machine and advances nonchalantly a few steps, hands in his pockets.

“I didn't hear you with the noise there was,” you said.

“I know, it was hell, we couldn't play.” You remembered how his bandmates were angry at everyone, voices louder than the strings of the guitar, the bass.

“Are there many of you?” You say, trying to convince him that you didn't really pay attention to the small improvised stage, but you remembered every face that was up there with him.

“Yeah, I have bandmates”

“Oh, so you're a real artist?” He smiles and seems to understand a joke that escapes.

“Not you?” It's your turn to smile.

“ It´s not my field.”

“I would say that…” He tilts his head and pretends to think. “Are you writing?”

You nod your head and then sniff. The freshness is starting to feel serious, if you don't go home soon, you'll get cold. “What betrayed me?”

“I don't know, I guessed it as soon as I saw you.” He says and glances back at his motorcycle. “How do you get home?” He asks without giving up his half-smile, a child's smile.

A sigh leaves your lips. “I'm supposed to spend the night with a friend, my father is coming to pick me up in the morning” a tone so bleak that he raises his eyebrows.

“Did you leave the party early?”

“I was fed up.” You rub the floor with the tip of your boot. “It's only one o'clock in the morning.”

Your gazes meet, and you can already tell the next question he's about to ask, and you already know the answer you would give him.

“Do you want to go for a ride?

[...]

The wind caressed your cheek and dragged the scent of his jacket. A fragrance, both intriguing and luxurious, you could recognize the notes of wood.

As you held him by the waist, the engine roared to life, and the motorcycle surged forward , carrying you both into the night. The cool breeze whipped against your face, ruffling your hair and awakening your senses. The city lights straked past, creating a blur of colors.

On his back you could feel the vibrations of the mototcycle beneath you, the ehythmic rumble resonating through your body. It was a thrilling sensation. Yet, being with him, it felt oddly liberating.

Your breath feels upside down, it makes you forget that you have no idea where he is taking you, forget that you don't know the time he will bring you back. Everything is fine, for the moment. You want to laugh, dance and sing. The feeling of speed reminds you of cycling without hands when you were younger.

When we descend, the stars are reflected on the river that runs along Verona. Thomas - that's his name - takes a bottle of white wine out of the trunk of his motorcycle. So you walk in the cool night, bottle in hand. He doesn't think about the small size for a wine or the fact that you don't drink. He doesn't tease you, he's not heavy like all the others are. He drinks quietly, from time to time, observes and listens and you imitate him.

Most of the noise comes from the nearby cafes and bars.

He proposes that we rent a boat to cross the river. I accept but warn him that you don't know how to swim. He makes no remarks, he is not surprised. And even if you knew how to, you doubt that there will be people renting at this hour.

“I will save you if you fall, " he just answers by catching the oars on each side of the gondola. There’s no one there. You can’t help the feeling of stealing.

So you sail on the shore. The noise of the city fades and the crickets are singing. Fireflies appear. They form dozens of small lights that are all reflected in Thomas' eyes. His eyes whose intensity is close to the abyss. You don't see the end. It's beautiful, it's undeniable.

He is calm too, and his half smile is similar to that of a child. You have never seen anyone like this boy before. His smell embalmed the air again and you want to fill your lungs with it. He is still stoned, which dilates his pupils in an exaggerated way. He begins to hum a melody and the sound of his voice transports you elsewhere.

“Are you writing song right now?” He asks suddenly.

“It happens sometimes” You said, keeping your eyes closed.

“Give me a title you wrote.” His voice is getting closer.

“Blue Valentine.”

“I love it” His breath is mentholated and your eyelids remain closed. “What is it about?”

Now you feel him distinctly, his smell. It surrounds you like a halo, you bathe right in it: you are in Paradise. And the sound of his voice, it is almost made up of material, you can almost feel it.

“From a slightly chaotic girl. Of a love that is not enough.” You refuse to open your eyes, you don't know why, you have the impression that they are welded. His face on yours. A warm breath hugs your cheeks. You feel it very close, very close.

“And what is the last verse?” He moves his lips while talking, and touches yours.

“The bread will be my redemption.” His lips gently and voluptuously crush on yours. You can feel a smile and wonder if it's about the kiss or if he's making fun of the last verse.

An electric current runs through and gently ignites. His lips are delicately sweet. The contact does not last more than a second but it is enough to turn your head. Colors dance under your eyelids, his mouth is like two petals. He marries mine perfectly. So perfect that it's almost unreal.

Your eyes are open: he is only a few centimeters from you and his look is so intense that you feel something melting. His face is too perfect, he's too close, you are going to erupt. His blonde locks, his smell is too stunning, even his Adam's apple seems to make you look.

Without a word, Thomas leans in once again, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. The world around you fades away as you lose yourself in the electric embrace. It feels like a spark igniting a fire within you, a rush of emotions surging through your veins.

As the kiss lingers, you feel a warmth spreading throughout your body. It's not just the physical contact but also the emotional connection that seems to be growing stronger with each passing second. In this moment, you forget about the regrets and disappointments of the party.

When you finally break apart, a sense of exhilaration and wonder lingers in the air. You both catch your breath, your eyes locked in a gaze that speaks volumes. The electric energy continues to crackle between you, fueling an unspoken desire for more.

Who is this boy and what is he doing? You look at each other like this for several seconds that seem endless. And finally you put a word about the sensation that passes through you: electric.

[sugar-petals]

Måneskin Reaction :: You Flirt With Them ❤️

# word count. 2k 

♡ note. hello, bisexuals and associates!!! happy pride month. you’ve given so much love to my ‚gettin‘ frisky w/ måneskin' 18+ scenario y’all are amazing. so, i’m back back back again 👀 for more fun stuff, this time with some world-building. enjoy!

TAGS/WARNINGS. ⚠️ ot4 imagines x gn!reader, suggestive, humor, cursing, innuendo, sex toy mention, ass jokes, reader’s dirty mouth, flirting at work, brief violence/alcohol/party drugs mention, almost-accident, damiano’s steamy gnc outfit

read it on ao3

thomas | Things start out in a literal fleeting heartbeat. You’re kind of exhausted from the concert high, but also full of guitar solo-induced adrenaline. Lord knows how you got a ticket for the very front. Afraid to be a little overzealous and attention-grabbing, you still made sure the band did not think the festival crowd was lame. Singing louder than three people at once hopefully makes a difference. So that’s that, and the setlist was great, anyway. Now, the stage is almost entirely empty, people rush to drink water. And: They want to see Metallica playing it up on a different stage. They’re already blasting a Queen song to warm up and gather the audience. Over here, the first row of course doesn’t dissolve that fast. Actually, you’re not mad being stuck here. You’re kind of witnessing staff tidying some cables right in front of you, and your band crush stringing up his guitar in real time. Thomas, who else. Fiddling with his instrument, he’s kind of preoccupied. Man, he’s too cute. You love his tousled hair and cravat. Enter Sandman is playing from the other direction, so more and more people around you start to leave. How you care, you just keep your head turned to the Måneskin stage hoping there’s a chance to interact. But watch what happens next — oh boy.

After Thomas — in full glam gear, that is — rattles down head first from the stage stairs since his heels got caught, but thankfully grabs hold of your arm: Well. Now you do have a chance to chat him up. Sort of like a little meet and greet. Okay, it’s kind of improvised and casual. You saved his neck and those long legs from tangling, he wants to repay you. „Oh— You like my guitar?“ he quips, with his signature sultry bedroom eyes, you know `em. „Hey sure, I can play something for you. I know it’s a bit shabby, but it’s supposed to be like that!“ And he starts plucking away on the fretboard, doing some scales, it all looks pretty impressive. You continue with some banter like hey, it’s supposed to be all chipped-off and rundown. He’s a super sexy rockstar, and practice makes perfect. A used guitar’s a good one. Thomas almost messes up his playing when he hears you call him sexy. „Am I?“ — „Of course! Look at you.“ — „I don’t get that a lot. People call me laid-back or something. You also look really cool.“ Duh, you have Måneskin merch on. Of course you look sick as hell. With the conversation progressing, the two of you sort of trail off backstage, and Thomas asks if you wanna have some licks, too. „Guitar licks or some other licks?“ is what you reply, and he shrugs, looking pretty sheepish right there. „Whatever you choose.“ — „Best of both worlds sounds very good.“

victoria | Dancing up to Victoria at a party feels scarier than it actually turns out to be. Although you’re terrified she’ll reject and flame you, you just give it a try and slowly, very slowly but surely… gyrate those hips in her direction. She smiles at you, she gets on your wavelength, returns the moves. Does she like what you do? Maybe? Is she in the mood? Is she just friendly? Does she laugh because she thinks you look utterly pathetic in front of the queen of the world? She’s Victoria from Måneskin! Hell, you just keep going. You started this, you got your groove on, you can’t chicken out now. The eye contact, it’s everything. That Vic walked up to the party in a hot cowgirl outfit is just too hot to ignore. A drunk and dizzy guy, ill-dressed and foul-mouthed as can be, stumbling in her direction with no seeming breaks on you briefly shove out the way. Not too aggressively, but resolute enough. How dare this smelly fucker interrupt your little mating dance right here. One does not disturb an art performance! Damiano on his best behavior, standing some meters away with his cocktail glass takes care of the rest, cussing the house down like hey you stupid walking can of beer, get out, Victoria is flirting, what’s your problem! Damiano is going absolutely ballistic on this guy, he gets a taste of his own medicine. You’re too infatuated to understand what’s happening, and nobody else cares, anyway. It’s too loud to understand the rest of the verbiage over there.

In the meantime, Vic is buzzing with excitement because her favorite song is suddenly playing at maximum volume. As if it’s a sign from above, you know the lyrics and mouth them. That’s the absolute last straw, baby. „We need to go, we need to go!“ — blink once, Victoria drags you onto the dancefloor without further ado and goes crazy. You’re suddenly wearing her cowgirl hat. So there we are! Everyone knows this lady can headbang, but this is a new level. The beat is pumping like Damiano’s heart when he sees a palette of black eyeshadow. Whatever it is that Victoria’s busting out there, hands going in all directions, you like it. That wild ass moshing almost knocks over people’s drinks in your vicinity. Gladly, a very oblivious Ethan is there to just stand in the way and shield the whole scene with his hunky body-ody-ody, like your personal hired guard. With the entire crowd pushing in all directions and new guests pouring into the room, everything gets tighter and— Well you know. Victoria winds up grinding her ass against you. And not in a shy way. Did you pass away, is this heaven? Did someone slip you an ecstasy pill? This girl is making you go insane by the minute. You never thought Vic would actually reciprocate at all, so… the more you know, and who knows where this might lead, huh.

ethan | Music video filming: Over! Cut! We’re finished. Hustle and bustle everywhere.  The producer is already envisioning millions of clicks, money, stocks — and gets on your nerves talking about `EthaNFTs’. Damiano retreated to write down some song lyrics that he doesn’t want to forget on the fly, Vic is eating a big ole hamburger in a diner next door, and Thomas is recording a kind of tiktok challenge around the corner. You arranged all the props that needed to be placed on the current set, and now put them back again. All done, then. You’re amused how the makeup and styling team took off in five seconds flat. Their favorite restaurant in the area had earlier closing times. But Ethan, taking the longest to pack up his drum kit, is now left to his own devices with changing his lace outfit back to casual. If it is casual at all, he’s 24/7 stylish. The sparkly eyeliner gotta stay on then, he has no clue where the wipes are. Just a minute later, you hear him go through a clothing rack in an adjacent room. Oh Jesus, he’s in there naked. Or in his underwear. Shit, the door is only half-closed. In an attempt to look uninvolved, you try to busy yourself picking up a glass of apple juice from the catering service and almost bump into Thomas doing the same thing, actually leaving for the parked tour bus. Departure in fifteen minutes says the driver, back to the hotel.

You can’t get yourself to actually leave just now. The set still isn’t cleared, right. So you’re just standing there, drinking juice, watching the camera crew discuss something about editing. After Ethan’s done, 90’s rock band tanktop on, guess who looks real grumpy. „Tangled mess,“ he complains under his breath, and you can tell it’s the hair, a beehive of heavy product and knots. You step over and offer your aid. After all, you’re staff, too. Ethan’s always in his own world and takes care of his things: Doesn’t mean he will refuse help. Since he can’t find a proper mirror, Ethan `bird’s nest‘ Torchio is more than okay with you brushing out his hair. Hallelujah, he has his own comb with him. He sits down, scrolls through his phone, you do your thing, making small talk at the same time. It’s actually relaxing. And who has sexier hair. You quiz him about his beauty routine while you’re at it, and he says he really takes his time in the bathtub to really work in the shampoo and conditioner. The hair gets too caught in any sink, and the shower is just boring and not so Italiano. You joke about how he should show you. You realize that would also mean… getting in the tub with him, right. Ethan, no stranger to Freudian slips, smoothes over the situation by saying why not take a camera, have you stand outside the tub and try the routine on him, so it’s gonna be a vlog at the hotel. Harmless new Ethan Insta content idea. Okay: Sounds like a plan. Thank you for doing my hair, let’s go to the bus then he says, and you walk next to each other. You always wanted to get to know him a little better.

damiano | Breakfast at the seaside hotel: The two of you already exchanged some vaguely heated glances. Nobody else was there except you, Damiano, and his sexy garter belts. You happened to be the only people in the hall at 5:45 AM, although it all felt really awkward still. That your designated tables were right next to another really did not help with the odd atmosphere. You were surprised to see him with his guard down, actually, even if his get-up screamed confidence and sexuality. Who dons a waist corset and shoulder harness this early in the morning. Walking up to the buffet where he paced around indecisively, you picked up a sandwich yourself. Right after complimenting Damiano’s all violet fashion choice… and just had to make fun of him when his `aesthetic‘ butt plug accessory chain got caught on the leg of the table. Straight-up having him wobble around on his big ass platform boots like a purple flamingo. He even tries to play it off by making a little booty-shaking dance out of it. Courtesy be damned, it’s too frickin’ early in the morning to censor yourself. And he’s the one walking around like he just visited a Dominatrix. So all you said to him was okay, that’s what happens when you put toys in your ass indeed, can’t even walk straight. Going by his unrestrained and bent-over laughter, Damiano enjoys the joke a little too much. This guy is wheezing his soul out. Ten seconds later, the realization hits. Way to go, he’s just clowned himself in front of a stranger he’s been eyefucking with. But the inappropriate humor… sure does something to him.

Back to eating: Even more awkwardly. You’re kind of laughing it off, too, now. But the story’s not over yet. After dropping a plate of scrambled eggs on his satin skirt and opening a sprite that exploded in his face — and onto your sweater, Damiano’s Italian dignity went down the drain entirely. So hey, screw the rest of breakfast, you both direly needed a change of clothing. On your way up to the rooms, someone desperately apologizes with endless what-can-i-do-for-yous. „Hm… I guess I do,“ Damiano clasps his hands behind his back, sort of kicking his dancey legs side to side to the beat of the catchy elevator music. He just looks down at his skirt and smiles all goofy. Is he shy? You just asked him if he really means it when he sings I’ll do whatever you want. Gotta be bold. And quoting his own crazy lyrics back to him when a fitting moment arises is only fair. Since he seems to mean it, you put some heat in your words. „Then, put that plug back in. There’s kids runnin’ around here, you kinky riot girl wannabe!“ —  „Oh my God, are you bullying me? You just don’t want me to trip!“ — „Hum, maybe.“ You don’t even know why you’re saying all these things, but very well: See you at lunch then in a new skirt, Mister Damiano David.

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