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#måneskin fanfic
cheese-toastie-11 · 11 months
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braid, singular || ethan torchio
pairing: ethan torchio x platonic!reader
summary: um. night in with your best friend and his friends (who are by extension also your friends) evolves into an impromptu hair braiding session.
word count: 911
warnings: none? bad ending i guess?
notes: i wrote this in like 5 minutes in either 2021 or 2022 (i can't remember) but i have finally decided to edit it and post it because i feel bad for not posting. it's a short one but it's better than nothing!
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Your entrances into your best friend’s apartment were never anything short of dramatic, and today was no different. Today you opted to just about kick it open, only to be greeted by Ethan on the other side of the door, having opened it just before you could go through with it.
"As much as I enjoy finding out how you’re going to make your presence known, I’d rather not have to pay for the damage," he said. “You know I gave you a key for a reason, right?”
"Good evening to you too," you answered, strolling in like nothing had happened. You handed him a carton of apple juice and were met with a look of confusion. "Last time I was here you were out of apple juice, so I figured I’d buy you some more."
"You were here yesterday."
"Who do you think finished it?"
He chuckled as you took off your shoes before making your way to his living room. His bandmates were already there, talking amongst themselves. Victoria and Damiano were sitting next to each other on one couch while Thomas sat alone on an adjacent armchair. Your chair—so named because you were the one to convince Ethan to buy it when he was first furnishing the place. 
You stood in front of Thomas expectantly. “You’re in my seat.”
“It doesn’t have your name on it,” he retorted. He showed no signs of moving. Obviously, it wasn’t that big of a deal, but where was the fun in conceding?
“You leave me with no choice,” you said, choosing to sit on his lap. He reacted immediately, shoving you off without any warning. You yelped and put up both your middle fingers at him, to which he replied by blowing a kiss. 
Ethan returned from the kitchen, having gone to put your apple juice in the fridge, and took a seat on the loveseat. You got up from the floor to go sit with him and stuck out your tongue at Thomas, who at this point was pleased he won the struggle for the chair. 
"So, what are we going to do?" Victoria asked. 
“There’s a Serie A game on right now,” Damiano suggested. “We could watch that?”
As he was met with a chorus of groans, you shifted closer to Ethan and poked him gently.
"Can I play with your hair?"
He nodded. "Let me sit on the floor so it’s easier for you."
You immediately got to work, first twirling a few strands around your index finger before portioning off a section to braid it. Victoria noticed immediately and pouted.
"You always play with Ethan’s hair, what about the rest of us?"
You looked over at her in mock pensiveness. "Well, Thomas never appreciates my company, Damiano has no hair to play with—"
"Fuck you!" 
"—and Vic, you never ask!" you finished, ignoring Damiano’s indignation. "Not to mention playing with Ethan’s hair is, like, my brand. It’s our thing, if you will."
"I will not," Vic scoffed. "I think we should have a thing too. I don’t care that you’ve known Ethan longer."
You shook your head, turning your attention back to the braid. Your focus was unmatched, continuing even as Thomas yelled at Damiano over something menial.
"Owie," Ethan whispered after a minute. "you’re pulling it too hard."
it was impossible for you to contain your laughter. "Did you just say 'owie?'"
"Yes, and what about it?"
"Nothing, nothing," you replied, suppressing a giggle. "it’s just that in all the time we’ve known each other, I have never once heard you say the word 'owie' unironically."
He did nothing more than put up a middle finger in response and you got back to work, making sure not to pull on his hair too tight.
You didn’t quite like the first braid and kept trying to get it right as the rest of the band decided on a show to watch, occasionally pulling Ethan’s hair as a sign that he was moving too much. And partially to see if he would react with another 'owie.'
"Almost done. You’re so pretty—and so is the braid, obviously," you whispered, mostly to yourself as you reached the bottom. Ethan immediately moved his head to face you.
"What?"
"What do you mean, what? Accept the compliment!”
"I—" he started before resorting to a sigh. "Thank you."
“Whoa, Ethan, don’t get so full of yourself,” Thomas joked. “Do you need a hair tie? I have one here from that time I tried putting my hair in a bun the way Damiano used to—"
He fished around his pocket and pulled out a hair tie, which you took and used to tie the braid.
“Honestly? This is some of my best work. I’ll take a picture so you can see."
Damiano looked over to see your handiwork and nodded, seemingly impressed. you fished your phone out of your pocket and took a picture of Ethan’s hair to show it to him. He gave you not one but two thumbs up and flashed a smile.
“It looks great.”
“Thank you, thank you,” you said, pretending to bow. “I should tag along on tour and just do your hair for you.”
"Okay, cool, my turn now," Vic said, shoving Ethan over.
“I don’t know how much of a miracle worker you think I am, but I can’t make you look any prettier than you already are, Vic,” you said. 
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marlena-immortale · 2 months
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Pretty Puppy
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Summary: You dress up your subby boyfriend Thomas like the princess he is and play with him all night long.
CW: SMUT, facesitting, feminization, pegging, Mommy Domme reader, puppy Thomas, a bit of humiliation, Thomas is a slut for praise
Word Count: 3.4k
Masterlist ⭐️ Taglist ⭐️ Kofi
The early Sunday morning sunlight seeping through your curtains is the first thing you notice after waking up from your sleep. The second thing you notice is a warm wet tongue lapping at your neck and soft whining in your ear. 
“Good morning puppy. Someone’s feeling extra needy today huh?” you greet your boyfriend Thomas. You only then notice his boner rhythmically poking at your thigh. 
“Mmmm … pleeaase lemme serve you Mommy, wanna make you feel good,” Thomas begs, his voice still sleepy and raspy. He’s so cute like this, with all his guards down and letting himself be vulnerable due to still being half-asleep. It’s one of your favorite ways to see him. You bring his restless body into the morning with your fingers gently scratching his scalp and using your other hand to still his hips from humping your thigh any longer. 
“How do you want to serve me puppy?” you ask, even though you know this almost always means he wants to eat you out. You just like to hear him say it for himself. 
“Can I lick you please?” he asks, puppy eyes in full effect.
You let him think you’re considering it for a moment before telling him, “I’d love nothing more than to spend the whole day in bed with your pretty face between my legs, but I think we should get up and start our day. It’s almost noon already.”
Your puppy pouts and paws at your arm, trying his hardest to convince you to stay in bed with him. 
“Hmm … I can think of another way you can serve me though.” He perks up a little at that. “You can make me some breakfast while I take a shower and get ready.” And he’s right back to pouting. You just laugh, ruffling his fluffy hair before hauling yourself out of bed and to the bathroom.
— — — 
Getting out of the shower, you hear clanging pots and pans. Exactly what you expected from your clumsy boyfriend in the kitchen. You can’t help but think about his endearing nature to throw all of  himself into everything he does, even if it’s as simple as making you breakfast, and even if he already knows he’s not great at it. He still gives it everything he’s got. And when you give him a task to do as your submissive, he jumps into it so willingly. The trust he holds for you always makes your heart melt. 
Your thoughts are interrupted by a particularly loud bang from the kitchen so you throw on some clothes and decide to check out the extent of the incident. 
In the kitchen, you find Thomas with some flour on his shirt, and on his nose, and being swept up from the floor. That seems to be the extent of the mess though, so definitely not his worst blunder in the kitchen. You still can’t forget the one time the fire department had to be called. 
“Ummm … I promise it’s not as bad as it looks.” He seems so guilty. It’s kind of adorable. 
“They look great baby,” you say, giving him a quick kiss on the nose. He flips the last pancake, the bottom being a little burnt, but the chocolate chips in the shape of a smiley face more than make up for it. He brings the two plates along with the espresso he made to the table and you sit across from him. 
“Mm so good Thommy,” you stretch the truth. It’s not fully a lie, they’re really not his worst kitchen creation. A bit burnt, but you can’t bear to tell him anything negative, not with his big beautiful eyes on you, seeking your approval and praise. You could spend all day staring into those eyes. 
After eating breakfast, you decide it’s time to give your puppy a treat for doing so well this morning after you clean up in the kitchen. “I want you to tidy up the bedroom and be ready on the bed when I come in,” you instruct. He’s already nodding enthusiastically and rushing off to complete the task you’ve set for him. You can never help but smile when he does what you tell him to so obediently. 
— — — 
Walking into your shared bedroom, you find your adorable little sub naked on his knees in the center of the perfectly-made bed waiting for you; the perfect picture of submission. His eyes are big, waiting for you to give him your next instruction. His hair is just the slightest bit disheveled, probably from tidying up the whole room and rushing to get into place before you came in. 
“The room looks so clean puppy, you did such a good job. I’m so proud of you.” He lights up hearing your words. You love praising your puppy so much, seeing the effect it has on him, the joy and satisfaction it brings him. He deserves all the praise in the world. 
“Hey puppy,” you try getting his attention back after losing his concentration to the praise for a moment. “Do you wanna try something new today?” 
He looks up at you, eyes slightly glazy from the pets on the back of his neck you’ve started giving him. “Like what?” he asks.
“I was thinking of how good you looked on stage the other night in that skirt. And how I think you’d look even prettier in a shorter skirt. So I got some supplies to dress you up, if you’re interested in trying that with me.” 
He takes a minute to think about it. You can practically see the thoughts racing through his mind, all the fantasies and ideas of what it would be like. “Yeah. Yes I definitely want to try that.” He pauses. “But if we’re trying something new, I don’t think I can handle edging today. It would just be too much. Is that alright?”
“Of course. Good boy, good job communicating baby. I’m very proud of you for telling me that,” you compliment and watch him smile and relax even more. “Are you ready to start now puppy?” He nods. “Okay, then come follow me.” You walk towards the bathroom without having to look back to know he’s dutifully following right behind you. 
You lead him to the bathtub and seat him on the edge while you fill it, dropping in some calming eucalyptus bath salts, your favorite. His expression is a little nervous, predicting how embarrassing it’ll be to have you wash him. You comfort him with a kiss on his cheek and a warm hand on his back, rubbing circles. 
Once the bathtub is filled with warm water, you hold his hand and lead him to step into the bath, sitting down as comfortably as he can with his long legs barely fitting. You grab the body wash and squeeze some out onto a damp washcloth, starting on his shoulders, making sure to get him nice and clean, all the way down to his hands and fingers. You make your way back up to his chest, running the soapy cloth over his sensitive nipples, feeling his sharp inhale under your hands and the blush adorning his neck creep up to the tips of his ears. You’re sure to be very thorough, cleaning all over his body. Bathing down his sides, around his hips and his butt, washing up and down his dick, watching him squirm and whimper at every touch. 
Once he’s nice and clean for you, you dry him off with a warm fluffy towel you had waiting. He’s relaxed from the comfort of the bath and just embarrassed enough from you washing him to get a little worked up. Such a slut for a little humiliation. 
“Come with me, I’m gonna get you all pretty for me now and do your hair and makeup. How’s that sound?”
“I-Umm, while I’m still… still naked?” Thomas asks, eyes a little bewildered.
You laugh at how surprised he seems despite the plenty of times you’ve seen him naked. “Yes, for now,” you hint with a wink, leading him to your vanity and sitting him down on the chair. He looks up at you with seemingly nothing going on behind those puppy eyes. 
“Hmm, I think this gold color would look so pretty on your lids. Close your eyes for me.” He follows instructions wonderfully. “Good boy. And of course we need to enhance this beautiful blush you’ve already got on these cheeks. Maybe we can get your other cheeks to blush another day hm?” His eyes go even wider thinking about his ass being hit enough to go pink.
“Okay one more thing. Lipgloss. You’re gonna look so pretty with shiny plump lips,” you tell him as you swipe the gloss over his parted lips. 
Once you pack up all the makeup and get your hairbrush out and when you walk back over to Thomas, he has an excited look on his face. It takes you a second to understand why that is, until you look down to see him fidgeting to cover his growing boner and remember the last time you brought out this hairbrush; as a punishment when he was having a particularly naughty day. 
You laugh a bit at his assumption. “Don’t worry puppy, we’ll only be using this for your hair today.” He looks relieved and a little disappointed. You run the brush and your fingers through his soft, freshly-washed hair getting out all the little knots along the way. 
With his hair and makeup flawlessly done, you bring out the most exciting part of the look, the outfit. You have the perfect set picked out. It’s one you found shopping the other day for yourself but when you saw it, you just knew you had to get it for your boyfriend. 
And once you see it on his beautiful body, you know for sure you made the right choice. It’s a sheer light pink crop top and the skimpiest light pink skirt you could find that doesn’t even cover his dick completely, letting his tip push up the hemline as he starts getting hard, and leaves his cute butt to peek out under the back. All tied together with silky sheer white thigh high stockings. He looks like a dream. And his look is completed with the happy, slightly humiliated, fully submissive look on his pretty face. 
“You look,” you start, looking him up and down. “Stunning.” You take his hands in yours, kissing each of his knuckles. “But I think I have one more thing to make this outfit perfect.” He watches carefully as you turn around to grab something. 
“There is something I need to do first,” you say, making your way back to him, keeping the thing you grabbed out of his sight. Without any further talking, your hand reaches under his tiny skirt to wrap your fingers around his dick, watching his face fill with surprise. You only need to give it a few strokes to get Thomas to fully hard, his dick pushing his skirt up so cutely. 
Before he has time to react, you drop down to your knees and take out that thing you’ve been hiding from him. A pale pink ribbon. Your fingers carefully wrap the ribbon around the base of his dick like a cock ring, tying it in a loose bow. Wrapped like a present, just for you. You take a picture before he can start squirming too much. 
“I wish I could set this as my phone background.” It’d be such a nice view to see every single day. “I love you puppy,” you say, infatuated, staring into his big glassy eyes before giving the tip of his cock a gentle kiss, watching it twitch, and getting up. 
“Okay,” you say, guiding him over to the bed and turning the T.V. on. “We’re gonna watch a movie and cuddle.” You find the most boring movie you can to put on while you position Thomas with his head on your chest and his legs in between yours. He cuddles in close to you, thinking the scene is over. Which is all a part of your devious plan to give your boyfriend the scene he deserves. 
Thomas is full of pent up energy, fidgeting around in your arms as you try to soothe him with pets. It doesn’t seem to be working though, as you can feel his gentle fingers dancing across your knee onto your inner thigh. You were just waiting for him to misbehave and you can’t help but smile when he finally gives in to his desire. You can feel his breath on your neck get shallower, waiting to see if you’ll allow his touches or not. His fingers climb their way higher and higher up your thigh, just barely touching but enough to send butterflies throughout your body. 
“Aww does my baby wanna tease me for a change?” You immediately feel his fingers stop in their tracks, realizing he’s been caught. “It's okay, you can keep going. It feels nice,” you tease. He keeps his fingers on the path they were on, stroking the sensitive skin of your thighs, following your instruction. 
His touches are so light and gentle that you can barely feel them but the sensation goes straight up to your pussy nonetheless. The effect doesn’t seem to target only you either. You gaze down to see Thomas’s skirt around his waist, fully uncovering his cock, hard and pushing up the pink fabric. 
“Touching me got you a little excited there huh puppy?” you say, touching his tip just to watch it twitch. He gets embarrassed again. Bashfulness might be your favorite look on him. Second only to how cute he looks with that bow wrapped perfectly around the base of his cock. 
His little whimper tells you all you need to know about how excited he really is. You would love to keep messing around with him like this but you’re a woman of your word so you stick to the no-edging today rule and get on with your plan. 
You position your pliable puppy to lay down flat on the bed with his head resting on a pillow. Without any complaint or questioning, he complies. 
“Such a good puppy,” you coo, stroking his cheek as you climb on top of him. You slowly remove your clothes, watching his eyes track your every movement, and crawl up until your pussy is hovering over his face. Thomas fights the urge to stick his tongue out and dive right in, but you have mercy on your horny puppy and lower yourself onto his pretty glossy lips. 
“Ohh your lips feel so amazing puppy,” you moan, grinding down. “And your nose too. I always love to feel your pretty little nose on my pussy.” Once he gets some encouragement, he’s got all the enthusiasm in the world and starts eagerly lapping as far inside you as his tongue will go as you rub your clit on his nose. 
His face feels so good under you, and watching him close his eyes to focus on giving you the most pleasure he possibly can. Every movement feels like you’re about to explode and you can’t help grinding down harder and faster and reveling in the little whimpers and moans coming from Thomas’s occupied lips. Your thighs feel shaky and you grab onto his hair to ground you and to pull his face even closer until the pleasure overtakes you and you cum with your legs tight around your boyfriend’s head. 
You release Thomas’s head to allow him to breathe again once you are aware enough to. You look down at his flushed face to see the makeup you applied smudged all around his face and get the urge to kiss it. You kiss all over his messy pretty face, tasting yourself on it. 
“Mmh that felt so good puppy, thank you. But I think it’s your turn to feel good now huh? How’s that sound?” He opens his excited eyes and nods quickly, placing his hands on your hips to have something to squeeze. You laugh, repositioning yourself to give yourself access to more of his body, bringing your face down to his hips where his pretty gift-wrapped cock rests. 
You tease him a little with your lips on his tip, swirling your tongue around until his hips start bucking up too much for you to let him get away with. Now that he’s nice and worked up, you pull his legs up and have him hold them to his chest so his cute little pink hole is exposed. He shivers when you gently blow cool air on it and you lean back to get a good view of him in this new position. He’s so fucking hot like this with his big puppy eyes staring back at you, and his legs quivering a little in anticipation, and his beautiful cock dripping onto his own hips. He looks like a dream come true. 
You get him prepped with lube covered fingers, pushing inside him and stroking until he’s ready for you to get out your favorite big pink strap. You line yourself up, pushing his legs even further back to get the perfect angle to push into him. You keep your eyes on Thomas’s face, trying desperately to keep it together for as long as he can, but you know your puppy well, and you can always tell when he’s embarrassed about how close he is just from one thrust. You take it easy on him and keep your thrusts long and slow but you can still see him struggling to not cum so early. 
“Please mommy, please let me cum, I- I don’t think I can hold on much longer,” Thomas begs. 
“Aw, puppy. You’re so cute. You can cum whenever you want, just let yourself do whatever you need to do.”
“Mommy I love you so much. Mmmm you’re so amazing, you’re the best domme in the world. I just wanna worship you every day.” he goes on and on. He always gets so wordy and just lets out every thought that passes through his mind when he’s all subby like this. He’s so gone, you just guide him through it, holding onto and rubbing his hips while you thrust into him. 
“I’m gonna cum, mommy I’m gonna cum,” he says with his eyes screwed shut and his legs trembling against you. He tries to push his hips into you as much as he can but ends up just shoving his hips up in tiny little ineffective movements. 
“Shh just hold on to me puppy, I got you I promise. You’re so close.” And with that, he’s whining out while his cum shoots out, staining the pink skirt as he shakes in your arms. You let his legs down while he attempts to catch his breath and get through the last of his orgasm. 
“You did such a good job puppy,” you praise him, throwing the strap across the bed to deal with later while you prioritize caring for your puppy. “Stay right there and I’ll be right back with some supplies ok?” you leave him with a kiss.
When you come back he’s exactly where you left him, eyes softly closing and opening again. 
“You can rest your eyes if you need to, you’ve had a very big day and you need some rest,” you say, gently wiping the smudged makeup off his face.
“I wanna stay awake. Wanna talk to you.” He barely gets the words out without yawning.
“Aw baby I think you’ve done enough talking for now. Your body needs rest, so take it. Let me take care of you. All you have to do is lay there and enjoy.” You strip him of his pretty little outfit, wiping off his sweat and cum until he’s nice and clean again. You pick up the sweat pants and shirt you brought out to warm him up before he stops you.
“Noooo,” he whines.”I want to feel your skin on mine.” 
“Okay puppy, whatever you want.” You pull him under the covers with you and cuddle him close while he squeezes you and give you little kisses with the little energy he has left until he’s asleep and softly snoring on your chest. 
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kaylalovesmaneskin · 7 months
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Neighbors
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A/n: hey loves I just wanted to say that this story won’t be long and I’m sorry I have been really busy and I didn’t have the time to come up with a long lovely story but next month I will do better ❤️❤️ tag list: @ellior1111 @tommy-lee-slash
Paring:fem!reader x Ethan Torchio
Warning:nothing
You were neighbors with your enemy. He was cold towards you but when nobody was around he wasn’t. You were sleeping in bed when you hear a tap at your window. You look to see Ethan holding a pillow in his hand. “What.” You said lowly opening up the window trying not to wake your parents up. “cant sleep.” Ethan Said wiping his red eyes. “Have you been crying.” You said pulling him into your room. Ethan sat on your bed looking you deep in your eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it.” “Then why are you here.” You asked him. You go between his legs as he hugs your waist. "I need you" he whispers. You laughed thinking he was joking but he wasn’t. “But you hate me ethan.” Suddenly he pulls you on top of him laying back. "I need you more than I hate you sweetheart.”
THE END😍
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your camera roll if thomas raggi was your boyfriend p.2
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p.1
masterlist
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sassy-sofia · 1 year
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Your Ocean
Pairing: Thomas x Damiano
Description: “He had never really learned how to just like something. He has always had to go in head first, surrounding himself in it, changing himself for it, letting it consume him.”
Thomas becomes infatuated by a mysterious man after noticing him outside of his campus. Letting curiosity get the best of him, he quickly sets on the path to learn who he is, however, some people are best to admire from afar.
*author note: I am still in the process of writing this, tags may change as I go. Updates should be weekly.
Wordcount: 81k (complete)
Chapters: 19/19
TW: mental health, homophobia, substance abuse, smut
Additional tags on AO3
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gr8rainbowpunk · 1 year
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My brain has decided it’s blurb time. So enjoy!
You’d been friends with the band for a while, but now they were about to start a us tour and were staying at your house for a while for the first time.*
“Y/N How does this shower work I cannot figure out how to turn it on” you heard Ethan half yell across the apartment
“Hold on I’ll show you” you yelled while heading to the bathroom
You walked towards the shower and started fiddling with the knobs “so this knob controls the temperature, this one turns it on and off and this one makes it come out of the shower head instead of the faucet”
You turn back after showing him and your jaw drops. He was standing there with absolutely nothing on.
He had had pants on when you came in earlier, they were now neatly placed on the sink.
You didn’t mean to stare but it was hard to miss, you’d always noticed when ever he wore just about anything that his bulge was definitely not small. But this was even bigger than you expected.
You’d always had a bit a crush on Ethan, honestly you’d had a crush on all of them since you had met.
“You know staring is generally not considered polite, but given that it is the typical reaction I’ll let it slide”
“I- I didn’t mean to, I just wasn’t expecting you without clothes”
“Oh my god I’m so sorry I forgot something’s are normal in Italy that are certainly not in America”
“Well I’ll let you take your shower”
“Or you could stay if you’d like”
(Maybe I’ll make a part two idk)
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daddyhausen · 2 years
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。 ・ : * ˚ : ✧ 。 「 WHO I WRITE FOR 」 。 ・ : * ˚ : ✧ 。
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。 ・ : * ˚ : ✧ 。 「 WRESTLING 」 。 ・ : * ˚ : ✧ 。
adam cole
adam copeland
alex reynolds
anna jay
bandido
bray wyatt
britt baker
brody king
bron breakker
buddy matthews
cameron grimes
cash wheeler
christian cage
chuck taylor
claudio castagnoli
cm punk
cody rhodes
damian priest
danhausen
daniel garcia
dante martin
david finlay
dax harwood
dominik mysterio
drew mcintyre
eddie kingston
el phantasmo
ethan page
evil uno
finn balor
hangman adam page
hook
jade cargill
jamie hayter
jay briscoe
jeff hardy
jey uso
jimmy uso
jon moxley
john silver
jungle boy
julia hart
jay white
kenny omega
kevin owens
kris statlander
kyle fletcher
kyle o’reilly
kip sabian
la knight
malakai black
mark davis
mjf
matt jackson
nick jackson
nick wayne [ no smut ]
orange cassidy
ortiz
penelope ford
pete dunne
preston vance
randy orton
roman reigns
rhea ripley
ricky starks
ridge holland
ruby soho
sami zayn
seth rollins
stu grayson
skye blue
santana
swerve strickland
trent beretta
toni storm
tony d’angelo
undertaker
wardlow
wheeler yuta
willow nightingale
will ospreay
zack sabre jr.
。 ・ : * ˚ : ✧ 。 「 BANDS 」 。 ・ : * ˚ : ✧ 。
damiano david — måneskin
ethan torchio — måneskin
thomas raggi — måneskin
victoria de angelis — måneskin
chris motionless — motionless in white
ricky horror — motionless in white
vinny mauro — motionless in white
will ramos — lorna shore
vessel — sleep token
ii — sleep token
iii — sleep token
iv — sleep token
oli sykes — bring me the horizon
noah sebastian — bad omens
hozier
。 ・ : * ˚ : ✧ 。 「 MARVEL 」 。 ・ : * ˚ : ✧ 。
bucky barnes
loki laufeyson
miguel o’hara
peter parker [ mcu + tasm ]
steve rogers
thor odinson
。 ・ : * ˚ : ✧ 。 「 GAMES/TV 」 。 ・ : * ˚ : ✧ 。
joel miller — the last of us [ tv series ]
thomas shelby — peaky blinders
arthur shelby — peaky blinders
alfie solomons — peaky blinders
simon “ghost” riley — cod/mw2
könig — cod/warzone
capitan john prince — cod/mw2
johnny “soap” mctavish — cod/mw2
kyle “gaz” garrick — cod/mw2
keegan p. russ —cod/ghosts
keep in mind this ain’t the final list !
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tempobrucera · 1 month
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Fire Alarms & Love Hearts
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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
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boobilater · 2 months
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Obey me!Brothers x rockstar!reader headcanons
I've never written on tumblr or any other platform before, so forgive me if this is bad. I'm open to constructive criticism and requests!
Tried to keep this as gender neutral as possible
Reader is kinda based on Victoria De Angelis
Lucifer:
None of the brothers can wrap their head around this. How does Lucifer get along with you? He enjoys peace and quiet, a book by the fire, classical music, and a nice cup of tea.
You, on the other hand. You enjoy blinding lights, blaring music that makes your ears ring, and going wild with your friends.
The moment the brothers saw you and Lucifer interacting with each other, they thought the world was going to end. He was dressed in his usual attire, black gloves, big coat, and a red tie. You... had like 1/4 of a top on. You and your band had just finished performing at a festival held at RAD. The sight was so odd to anyone who knew either of you.
Although you and Lucifer have VERY different interests, you still get along due to your mutual respect for one another. He's basically an academic weapon, and he does so well in his studies whilst also working for Diavolo. You travel through Devildom performing, doing interviews, and photoshoots whilst still somehow maintaining a good grade.
He won't deny (to you anyway) being your lover has increased his ego even more. Standing backstage and watching you perform whilst a smug smile sits on his face. Knowing he's the one who gets to hold you, kiss you, and love you like no other and not those who push against the barricade as they foam at the mouth over you. Every time he sees people gush over you, his pride increases.
He will never admit this to anyone, that also includes you, but seeing you in those skimpy costumes, jumping around the stage as people roar and moan your name, knowing he's the one who will take that costume off you... hottest thing ever.
Will get kinda clingy if you're in a dating scandal. Especially if it's with someone from your band. He trusts you, but he doesn't appreciate that people want to see you with someone other than him.
Mammon:
The brothers felt so bad for you at first. They thought he was just using you for money. They really didn't think he truly loved you. That was until he allowed you to drag him on stage and turn him into a blushing mess as you kissed him in front of the whole of RAD.
He can barely speak in your presence. YOU'RE JUST TO HOT. He's constantly red around you, can't even look in your direction when you're in your costumes.
Seeing you perform drives him MAD. You are up on that stage, looking as fine as ever, and everyone's in the crowd screaming your name. He's so dumbfounded in these moments. Cause on one hand, he's SOOO jealous of the way everyone can openly express their adoration for you, and on the other hand, he's so proud of you.
If one of his brothers (most likely Asmo) can get some drinks into him, he will be screaming the loudest in the crowd.
"THAT'S MY HUMAN!!"
And many other sweet things that he'd rarely say sober and to your face.
Mammon gets so excited and nervous when you get to do photoshoots together. Like he has to try to do his job as he stands next to you! That's practically impossible! How's he supposed to keep his composure??
Will lose his shit if the photographer wants you two to do couple poses.
One time, the photographer asked for him to lay on the ground with you on top of him. You had to conceal a giggle from him as he did his very best to hide his embarrassment. How was he supposed to do this?! You, laying on top of him, in that outfit?? It was absolute heaven and hell all at once.
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(You can imagine whatever you want for the pose, but this is what I was inspired by)
He doesn't know whether to be happy or sad about how viral the picture went. Now everyone thinks you're a power couple, but every photographer wants you two to pose like this now. You will be the death of him.
Leviathan:
Everyone and their mother is in denial when he tells them you're his parenter. He's in denial, too. No one believes it for even a second. That was until you gave him a shootout at one of your concerts for making your costume.
As much he loves you, he wanted to die when you asked him to design some of your costumes. He was so stressed! He wanted them to be perfect and comfortable for you. But he felt like such a pervert having to take your measurements and make you skimpy costumes.
Leviathan is your no.1 fan. Always the first to stream your new music, buys all of your merchandise too. He also helps you out with your music and videos. He'll give you ideas for the music videos and even gives his opinion on the music your in the process of making (only when asked)
He thinks you're so cool and doesn't understand why you would even waste your time hanging out with him, let alone date him.
The jealousy he gets from seeing you interact with fans and get caught up in dating scandals is unreal. If he had the confidence to, he would [CENSORED] and [CENSORED] you until the sun rises in Devildom. But he doesn't.
He's a little scared of you.
Constantly defending you in comment sections.
Will dox anyone who says a mean thing about you.
Satan:
Lucifer doesn't appreciate bright lights, loud music, and people who return home from drinking at 2am. You're perfect.
He started to read a lot of books that contain characters similar to you. He also researched your band and the rock genre. He wants to be able to talk to you about the thing you're so passionate about.
He won't be at all your gigs or rehearsals. He will still do his best to clear his schedule and show up for you.
If he can't be there, he'll text you good luck before you go on stage and call you afterwards to see how you are. He'll ask you 100 questions. He wants to make sure your alright.
No one threw anything at you?
No one jumped on stage?
You drank your water and ate your snacks?
If he can make it, he's staring at you the entire time. With a loving glint in his eyes. He's genuinely so amazed by your skills.
Unlike a majority of the brothers, he will openly admit to you that he's jealous or uncomfortable with your relationship with certain members of the band or even fans.
He doesn't believe you'd betray him like that, but that doesn't stop him from getting worked up about the latest articles on devilgram.
He wants to tear out the eyes of anyone who stares at you too long in your costumes. They're in for a treat if they try to touch you.
As we all know, he's very into literature. He constantly helps you write lyrics and find inspiration for your songs. He will melt if you write a song about him and proudly admit it's for him. Will die if you do it publicly, too.
Asmodeus:
His devilgram has basically become a fan page for you at this point. Will not stop taking pictures of you.
He loves to take care of you. Will do loads of skincare with you. He will also scold you like a mother for not getting your beauty sleep.
He does most of your hair and makeup for performances. Makes you look and feel 10x hotter than you already are.
Since you play an instrument, your nails need to be short, and your fingers are usually calloused. Don't worry though, your gorgeous boyfriend will give you manicures!
Always has a hot, bubble bath ready for the two of you after your concerts.
Everyone is obsessed with you two. You're literally the hottest couple in all 3 realms!
This man, this man goes absolutely feral when he sees you in your costumes. Every time he's in your dressing room, watching you put your accessories on in front of the mirror, he just so badly wants to [CENSORED] [CENSORED] and [CENSORED] you right then and their. And he will.
Your manager is so done with you showing up late whilst adjusting your clothes and unaware of your smudged lipstick.
Beelzebul:
Asks you the same question before and after every gig you've ever had.
Did you eat?
If you're going to be up late, performing, or partying most nights he wants you to atlest do so on a full stomach.
People think you're really cute together. A pretty rockstar and a gigantic fangol player. The cutest pair in all of Devildom.
He does get jealous from time to time, but only dating scandal between you and someone you're close with. He won't let articles and rumours about you and some random celebrity you smiled at get to his head. Won't get jealous of fans either because he knows they have one thing in common. Adoration for you.
Thinks you're really cool. Beel is amazed every time he gets to see you live.
Doesn't have much care about your costumes. If you want to wear them, he won't make you uncomfortable, and he certainly won't let anyone else make you feel uneasy or upset.
He's your personal bodyguard. As long as he's around, no creepy 'fans' are going to go near you. Unless they're really stupid.
Belphegor:
Nothing is better than waking up with you conked out on top of him. Getting to see your pretty face with last night's eyeliner as this morning's smokey eye.
Not many are surprised that you two became a couple. You're not all that different from each other. He likes rock music and you make rock music. Match made in heaven (not really). The only major difference is that he sleeps all the time and you can't remember the last time you got 8 hours of sleep.
He's constantly somehow asleep in your dressing room as you perform or rehearse.
You are getting thrown over the shoulder and dragged back to bed when you're awake in the middle of the night trying to come up with a new song. Your manager is so great full for him coming to your life. Now you're actually like half awake for meetings.
Litteraly hates your fans. Like, who do you think you are looking at my partner like that? Giving them gifts and shouting that you love them... shoo shoo
Honestly, Belphie is just concerned about whether or not you're cold in those costumes.
Will get possessive of you when you're in a dating scandal. No matter how much you reassure him that it's not like that between you and whoever, he's not having it. Are they in the room? If yes, you now have the avatar of sloth physically attached to you. His excuse if asked what he's doing, he's just tired.
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1-800-simping · 2 years
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your couple pics with måneskin
warnings: none! (let me know if i missed any)
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victoria:
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thomas:
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damiano:
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ethan:
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a/n: none of these pics are mine! i found them off the internet so all creds go to the owners!!
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fanfic-funnies · 4 months
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For the hannigram fans:
Måneskin - VALENTINE
I love this song for our boys.
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cheese-toastie-11 · 11 months
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sanremo || thomas raggi
pairing: thomas raggi x gn!reader
word count: 2707 (is this my longest fic? i think so)
warnings: swearing i guess? two poor attempts at avoiding a makeout scene because i didn't want to write them? overall cringe content? slightly suggestive at the end?
summary: ever the supportive boyfriend, thomas indulges you in a sanremo 2023 watch party.
notes: this was supposed to be posted like two months ago i'm so sorry. vic ethan and damiano editions coming soon* i hope. *iwbys video kind of soon if you know what i mean
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“TESORO, get in here! It’s starting!” you yelled from the comfort of the couch. 
“Aspetta!” your boyfriend yelled back from the discomfort of the kitchen. 
“Sanremo waits for no one!” you replied. You heard the clattering of plates and the sound of the stovetop being turned off before Thomas entered the living room empty-handed.
“So, I kind of fucked up the pasta,” he began. You sighed and opened your mouth to speak, but he continued. “Not to worry! It’s easily salvageable and the rest of the snacks are ready. I’ll bring them out in a second.”
He went back into the kitchen and returned moments later, balancing plates of prosciutto e melone and assorted cheeses as well as a bowl of grapes and some crackers. As he set them down onto the coffee table, you leaned over to pick up a cube of cheese.
“Nicely cubed,” you commented. “You should, like, feed me the grapes. I think it would be funny.”
Thomas raised his eyebrows. “Do you want me to? Because I’ll do it if you want me to.”
You glanced at the TV. “Not now. You have five minutes to figure out the pasta situation because I think Amadeus is almost done talking,” you said before pausing to contemplate. When it came to Sanremo, ‘almost done’ meant the amount you expect it to last, doubled and rounded up. Especially if it was Amadeus. “Maybe more like ten minutes. You have ten minutes if you want to be here in time for the first performance, five minutes if you want to briefly make out with me beforehand.”
That was enough for Thomas to run, nay, sprint back to the stovetop. 
You’d been watching Sanremo since far, far before Thomas and the band competed, and it was no exaggeration to say it was one of your favourite weeks of the year. The press conferences, the memes, the performances: all of it brought immense joy to an otherwise boring month. And it was a nice lead-in to Eurovision too—if you liked the winner.
Thomas was normal. He’d watch the final with you, and sometimes cover night as well, but he mostly relied on you to give him your takes on the best songs—he trusted your music taste. When he told you that Måneskin were considering participating, you yelled so loudly the neighbour knocked on your door to ask if everything was alright. And you admit, that was a bit of an overreaction, but in the moment, you simply could not contain yourself. Thomas understood. He always did.
Four minutes and thirty seconds later Thomas was back. He put the plates of spaghetti alle vongole next to the rest of the food and sat on the couch before pulling you onto his lap. Your lips had just barely met his when you heard a familiar voice emanating from the TV speaker. 
“Oh fuck, Gianni Morandi is talking,” you said, turning around so your back was pressed against his chest. He let out a whine of discontent. “I’m sorry, tesoro, but my parasocial grandfather comes first.”
He pouted and put his head on your shoulder, which you figured was a sign that he was going to complain, so you turned back briefly to grant him a kiss.
“You should do that more often,” he said.
“Kiss you?”
“Yeah!”
“I kiss you plenty,” you replied. “Now shush, I think Elodie’s about to come on.”
Thomas sighed. “I hope you were this invested when we were competing.”
You turned back to kiss him again. “This and more. You’re lucky you weren’t there to witness it, I was insufferable.” Your friend group took turns hosting viewing parties during that week, culminating in a big party at your place for the final. You had gone all out—you baked a cake, decorated your living room with assorted pictures of Thomas (for good luck), and even impulsively bought a bottle of Prosecco. Your friends still tease you about how loudly you’d shush everyone when Måneskin came on. 
The same went for other Måneskin performances as well—Victoria liked to tell you at the end of each show that your voice made up most of the screaming crowd during guitar solos. She wasn’t wrong, per se, and who could fault you! Being Thomas’s one-person hype squad was basically your second job title.
He didn’t bother you more, allowing you to watch Elodie’s performance in peace…sort of. By the end of the song, you were lip syncing passionately to Thomas as he watched with a massive grin on his face. 
“What?” you asked.
“Nothing,” he said. “I finally get what you mean when you say you like hearing me talk about my boring guitar shit. I like seeing you nerd out like this.”
You kept up the energy during Colla Zio and Mara Sattei’s performances; you made sure to tell Thomas all about how much you liked the lyrics Damiano wrote and how they really should consider recording more ballads in Italian because he has such a way with words, and Thomas laughed and said he’d pitch it at their next rehearsal. 
When the co-hosts started talking again, you realized the pasta was getting cold. Neither of you had touched the food since the performances started. 
“Oh my god, the food,” Thomas blurted out. “I spent like half an hour this morning figuring out how to clean clams and we haven’t even tried them yet.”
You moved off Thomas’s lap and leaned over to take one of the plates on the table and a fork, and Thomas did the same. You took the first bite simultaneously, making sure to try both the clam and the spaghetti.
“Hm,” you began. “I think it needs a bit of salt. I think the clams are okay, though. I rate it a 7 out of 10.”
“I don’t,” Thomas complained, grabbing a napkin to spit out a clam. “The clam I just ate was sandy. Gross. I’m scared to eat the rest of them now.” He pushed the rest of the clams to one side. 
To no one’s surprise, Amadeus and Gianni were still going on and on by the time you were finished eating. You were setting down the plates on the countertop to deal with later when Thomas asked you to bring a bottle of wine on the way back.
“Which one?” you asked, scanning the shelf of bottles with two glasses in hand. The various wines were organized by grape variety and year, for the aesthetic, but neither of you were knowledgeable to the point of snobbery. It was fun to act like you were, though. 
Prolonged silence on Thomas’s end. “I don’t care. A white wine. You should probably hurry, though, they’re starting the preamble for the next artist.”
You took the first bottle your free hand met and quickly shuffled back to the living room. This was one of the performances you were most looking forward to tonight.
Thomas beckoned for you to return to your spot on his lap by way of grabby hands. You happily obliged and yelled in excitement when Gianni announced the next performer.
“It’s my boy!” you cheered as Tananai walked onto the stage.
“I thought I was your boy?” your boyfriend asked, the pout evidence in his voice.
You weren’t sure if it was conscious on his part or not, but Thomas’s hold around your waist tightened ever so slightly.
“He’s my parasocial boy,” you corrected. “Now stai zitto, my boy is singing.”
This time, you meant it. You managed to contain yourself for the entire duration of the song—partly because you’d started sobbing a little halfway through—and so did Thomas. You continued to sit in silence even after the song was over. Thomas spoke first.
“Wow,” he said. “I’m starting to see why he’s your parasocial boy now.”
As the night went on, you fluctuated between being too tired to function and being incapable of sitting still. Thomas gasped loudly when Rosa Chemical brought Fedez on stage, and you briefly fell in love with Sangiovanni during his interval performance with Morandi.
You didn’t remember falling asleep, but you were rudely awoken by Thomas hitting your arm repeatedly. “Amore, they’re about to announce the artists in the super final.”
“I don’t care anymore as long as Ultimo doesn’t make it,” you replied with a yawn. You were choosing to blame your inability to stay awake on the wine—you and Thomas finished the bottle when you started playing a drinking game after Ariete’s performance. “You voted from both our phones, I hope?”
“Of course, schatje.”
“Dutch?”
“I needed to switch things up, I always call you amore. I learned it from a fan in Belgium.”
“Hmm. I like it. You should use it more.”
On the TV, Chiara, Amadeus, and Gianni were announcing the classifica. You were disappointed to see some of your favourite acts so low in the standings, and by the time they were announcing the top 10 you were clenching your fists anxiously.
“Il sesto posto…” Gianni began on the screen. You leaned forward ever so slightly. “Giorgia!” 
Tananai hadn’t been mentioned yet, which meant…
“MY BOY MADE IT TO THE SUPER FINAL!” you yelled, unintentionally hitting Thomas in the face as you pumped your fists. He, of course, was startled and almost lost his grip on you. “Sorry amore.”
“I’m okay, don’t worry,” he said. “Let’s vote for Tananai?”
“That’s the most romantic thing you’ve said to me all night.”
He handed you your phone and you went into your messages, sending the maximum amount of ‘02’s you could to the number shown on screen. Thomas did the same. After that was done, you went into your messages to beg everyone you knew to vote for him as well, and even took it a step further by grabbing Thomas’s phone and posting to his Instagram story. You would stop at nothing to make sure Tananai won—or, at the very least, to make sure Ultimo lost. 
All that was left for you to do was wait. Thomas turned you around so you were face to face, like at the beginning of the evening. “Since we’re waiting around doing nothing…how about that make out session I was promised earlier?”
As if on cue, your phone started ringing. “Can’t, my mom’s calling me,” you said, reaching across the couch for your phone. You felt a little bad, sure, but he’d get his wish session eventually! 
“I hope she’s happy knowing she just cockblocked me,” Thomas grumbled. 
“Thomas!” you exclaimed as you answered the phone and put it on speaker.
“Ciao, cioccolatino,” you heard from the other end. Thomas’ grin was wide as you scrunched your nose at your childhood nickname. “How are you feeling about Sanremo so far?”
“Y/N’s very pleased with Tananai,” Thomas answered. He wasn’t in the mood for a conversation with his bandmate right now, despite your eagerness to share your opinions with someone other than him tonight. “Realistically, I think Men—”
You shushed Thomas loudly, as if him finishing his sentence would curse the results. “Tananai has a chance, shut up. How about you?”
“Oh! Thomas is there too! How wonderful! You know, I was just thinking—"
“Mom, not the time.”
“Sorry, sorry, you’re right. I’m surprised none of the women made it, I think that’s unfair. Mr Rain was definitely not better than Elodie.”
“Exactly!” you said. “The kids carried his whole performance! If anything, they should win the entire thing.”
You looked at Thomas, whose patience seemed to be wearing thin. 
“Amore,” he whined, just quiet enough that your mother probably wouldn’t be able to hear. “We were busy.” He wasn’t usually like this, but months away on tour does something to a person. Ever since he got back from the North American leg of the tour, he’d been far more touch starved than usual. You understood, of course. 
You covered the microphone to make sure she wouldn’t hear. “When my mom hangs up, I promise.”
He sighed, knowing he had no choice but to oblige. Voting hadn’t closed yet, so the chance of Sanremo results getting prioritized over him again were slim. Or rather, he hoped they were slim. You engaged in idle chitchat with your mom, knowing she’d likely start pressing for details if you tried cutting her off abruptly. Thomas was zoned out and tracing shapes idly on your thigh, as he did when he got bored. You’d joked that if you got his invisible doodles tattooed on you your thighs would be covered in the Lucky Charms marshmallow shapes. He didn’t get the reference.  
“Anyway, I should go, this wine glass isn’t going to refill itself. Call me tomorrow morning, cioccolatino. Have fun!”
“Bye,” the two of you chorused. As soon as you hit the end call button, Thomas took your phone and tossed it to the other couch, far out of reach for either of you. He gave you a look, the silent ask for consent, and you barely got out one nod by the time his lips were on yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and one of his hands made its way to your waist, pulling you in closer.
The other hand, the one on your thigh, had since stopped tracing shapes and moved up ever so slightly higher. And higher. And a little bit more—
If it hadn’t been for the Sanremo theme blaring out of the TV speakers to signal the end of the ad break, the two of you could’ve easily forgotten all about the ongoing festival. This time, it was Thomas who pulled away quickly—much to your dismay. You glared at his smug demeanour as he moved his hand away from your thigh and up to his face to brush a stray strand of hair.
“Dude. Not cool.”
“My tongue was just down your throat and you’re calling me dude?”
“What do you want me to say!” you defended. “I admit, I was mean for depriving you of kisses for a prolonged period. But at least I didn’t fucking edge you when I did it!”
“Schatje, I promise you that wasn’t even close to me edging you. I’d be glad to show you after, but I think you want to see who wins Sanremo first,” he said, helping you turn around to face the TV screen once more tonight. Hopefully it would be the last.
As the hosts built up anticipation on screen, you squeezed Thomas’s hand tightly. So tightly, in fact, he had to pull away to avoid an actual injury. “Amo, I’m stressed,” you said. 
“I can tell,” he replied. “It’ll be fine. At the end of the day, it’s just a silly little song contest.”
You nodded in agreement. “You’re right. It is just a silly little song contest.”
“La quinta posizione…” the hosts announced. You muttered Ultimo’s name under your breath, as if to manifest it. “Tananai!”
“WHAT?” you yelled. “No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. No. Non è vero. Non è possibile. Chi cazzo ha votato per Ultimo?”
“Well, this sucks,” Thomas said. “If it helps, I think he should’ve won.”
You laughed in disbelief, watching as Lazza and Marco stood on the stage and waited to find out who won. “I maxed out my votes, I maxed out your votes…hell, I begged your fans to vote for him too. How the fuck did Tananai not win?”
It took Thomas squeezing your hand to bring you out of your misery. “Y/N. Silly little song contest, remember? Besides, Eurovision is in Liverpool of all places, I think there are cooler places for Tananai to perform.”
You sighed dramatically, leaning against Thomas until you both sunk into the sofa. “I’m inconsolable, Thomas. I need a kiss.”
He quickly obliged. “I need to be anywhere but this living room right now. Bedroom?”
“You don’t need to tell me twice,” you said. “Sanremo is exhausting.”
You stood up and Thomas followed suit. He took your hand and led you towards your shared bedroom—dishes in the kitchen long forgotten. “I take it you’re too tired for an afterparty, then?” he asked, the smallest smirk evident on his face. 
“Me? Never.”
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kaylalovesmaneskin · 1 year
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Love at first sight
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A/n:Heyy love I just want to this story is going to be something cute and awe adorable yeah yeah I also just wanted to say that this story does take place in like their X factor day and like year would be like 2015-17 ya know also TYSM for alll the love on the last story @ellior1111
Paring:Damiano David x Fem!reader
Warning nun really just some fluff
You had been walking down the lovely streets of Rome and you turned the corner to see a group of people singing well only one person then you had saw to people one playing the guitar and another playing the bass and there was a guy who had some long hair you ever seen playing some sort of drum. But the one that got your eye was the one singing. He was super pretty and he had such a lovely voice that you loved so much that every day you would go and see them a 3pm because that the time you would see them play and one day you finally had then courage to go up and talk to him. It was a normal beautiful Sunday in Rome and you went to the place that they were at and you had heard you favorite song raggamuffin selah sue but it was a cove but it still sound amazing. You had decided to were a white sundress with yellow flowers on it. You had put you hair in a ponytail with two strands of hair out you grab your purse and left. you were running down the block and you turned the corner to see them setting up you walked over to the guy with short hair and you tapped his shoulder. “Hey.” He said looking at you. See you were never the type to believe in love in first sight but with this guy it was something different. “Hey umm I just wanted to say that you and your friends have some amazing talent that I ever seen so far but I came to ask you if I can maybe could get your number and we could be friends.” You said fast looking at the floor. “Wait are you that girl who comes to all of our gigs ever day.” He said. “Yes umm I just also wanted to say my name is y/n.” You said looking back up at him. “Well y/n I just wanted to say thank you for the compliment and how about we unlock that pretty little phone off yours so I could put my number in it.” He said looking at you then he gave you a wink. Your cheeks heated up as you went into your purse grabbing your phone and unlocking it and giving it to him. “Umm here you go.” You said lowly. “Thank you love.” He said grabbing your phone and typing his phone number into your phone. “Here you go love now now text me so I can get your number and save it.” “Oh okay.” You said stuttering. “Well hun will you like to go out with me after our little gig.” “Uh sure why not.” “well little lady I’ll see you when we are done.” He said grabbing your hand and kissing it. Your cheeks got pink and warm. You went to sit were you always did and watch them perform. (Fast forward to like 5-6pm)Their gig was over and they were packing up there things you decided to go and help them. “Hey let me help you with this.” You said to the girl who was playing the bass. You help her pick up the thing that made her instrument loud. (idk what there called 😭) you guys walked over to were the van where and had help her put it in there. “Hey are you that girl who my friend damiano was talking to.”mashed said looking at you. “Um yes that me hi my name name is y/n and you are.” “Hi y/n my name is Victoria but you can call me vic.” “Okay sure.” “Let me just give you a quick summary of who we are we are måneskin and I am the bassist of the band and the one with the short blonde hair that out guitarist Thomas and the one with the long hair who plays the drums than Ethan and out lead singer damiano which you already met. She said. “Well I see that you two ladies got to met.” Damiano said walking up to you and Vic. “ oh hey dami I am just introducing ourselves to your girlfriend.” “W-what I am not his girlfriend.” You said. “Soon that will change my love.” He said lifting up your chin to look at him. “Damiano you are such a flirt.” Ethan said walking over to you guys. ”hey Ethan my name is y/n.” “Hello y/n.” Then next came Thomas came along. “Hey guys oh shit is that the girl that dami Talks about all the time to us.” He said. “Thomas shut up.” Damiano said punching him in the shoulder. “Okay okay but I think she should know how in love you are with her the moment you said her.” “Oh yeah y/n he would non stop talking about you for the rest of the day.” Ethan said. “Awe that cute you know I was just the same.” You admit.
After that you and damiano had when on your date and after that you both started to date and you came to all of their gigs and support him all the way until he became and international rock star with the rest of the band. THE END❤️❤️
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sassy-sofia · 1 year
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Held Together By Strings
Pairing: Thomas x Vic
Description: Thomas finally agrees to let Vic tie him up despite the fact that he doesn't have a single subbing bone in his body. Or at least he thought.
Rating: teens and up
Wordcount: 1,751
Tw: subdrop
Additional tags on AO3
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filthforfriends · 11 months
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Just imagine Ethan as a Dad that would be just *chefs kiss* 💋
I imagine his 4 year old kiddo running up to him with a "drawing" thats just scribbles on a page for the 7th time today. Ethan is sitting at his computer, trying to produce music, but he's also hellbent on encouraging his child's creativity, regardless of how it tests his patience.
So when he hears the high pitched screech of "Papà, papà, look what I made!" Of course the child bursts into the room without knocking and interrupts him mid-thought.
"Ah, okay. One moment," he'd placate while halfway lost in rhythm. (I can so clearly hear those words in his tone of voice.) His kid has at least learned to wait for this. Of course they're also vibrating with excitement, next to some very expensive, very breakable equipment. Ethan can't really focus while worried that his child is going to trip over a bass drum petal and take the skin of their entire shin. This was supposed to be dad's special room, where only grownups were allowed, but he'd broken that rule before the little ones could even talk by showing them his music.
"Aright, what do we have?" His hands would land on his thighs as punctuation while Ethan turned his chair and refocused attention.
"I made a present for you!" Cue piece of notebook paper with a bunch of red and green lines thrust into Ethan's hands.
"Oh, wow. A Christmas tree in May!" He'd act excited and his kiddo would know not to be put off by his almost monotone way of speaking. Thats just how papà talks.
"No, papà its a crab! Don't you see it?" Ethan couldn't bear the disappointed expression that children make when adults don't understand their drawings. He would tilt his head to the side and pretend to have a revelation.
"Oh, now I do! Of course I can see right here" gestures vaguely to a part of the page. "It is clearly a crab, yes."
"That's its leg."
"And how many legs do crabs have?" Ethan gets up and grabs the tape he keeps in the desk drawer expressly for this purpose. He hangs the paper on the one wall that isn't soundproofed next to many other drawings. A composite of his favorites would become the cover art of a future album.
"Six!"
"Almost..." he coaxes, encouraging.
"Um, eight. Like a spider. A sea spider!"
"A sea spider?" he'd repeat, using his most theatrical voice. Ethan would lift his little one off the ground with an exaggerated groan, making them burst into giggles.
"How many claws?"
"Two! Thats easy."
"Alright, do you know if mamma or dad are home, yet, my little marine biologist?" The Torchio household nanny would be waiting right outside the door, ready to take the kid from Ethan's arms. He had made it clear that the children were allowed to interrupt him to give him their art.
"Your mamma just pulled into the driveway." Their nanny would speak directly to the little one, as per request of Ethan and his partners. He wanted his children to be treated like equals, talked to not over. Upon hearing their mamma come through the door the child would wiggle around until set on the ground so they could go running through the house, squealing. Ethan doesn't bother reminding them to knock for the 7th time today.
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honeyimcoming · 6 months
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happy national bf day to the man i’m mentally dating <3
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