#Damiano David fanfic

[writingmaneskin]

The Rest is History - A Damiano David Blurb

Pairings: Damiano David x Reader

Fluff

Words: 1.2k

Description: Will either of you be brave enough to be open about your feelings?

A/N: Still working on things, and life.

THE MAIN MASTERLIST

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You could not remember a time when he wasn’t in your life. 

Even looking back through family videos and pictures, there he was, always by your side. 

It took you years, perhaps far too long to realize that you never wanted him to leave.

“Your head is in the clouds again.” Damiano joked, seeing that you couldn’t focus on the conversation happening backstage. You had joined them on the road for a couple of shows, to catch up and spend some much needed time with Damiano.

You looked at him all smiley and he smiled immediately too.

“What?” He asked, a note of self-consciousness in his voice.

“Nothing.”

“Are you okay?” 

“Yes, just thinking.”

“Do you want to go out for a smoke?” He offered.

“Please, some fresh air will do wonders.” 

You heard Vic say something to the others but couldn’t pay much attention to her words as Damiano put his hand on your lower back and warped all your attention immediately.

You walked side by side with him, his hand never leaving your lower back.

“Can I be honest?” He asked, lighting his cigarette before passing you the lighter.

“I will be very hurt if you stop being honest with me for some reason.”

He smiled.

“I think you are overworked and that you desperately need a break.”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately?” You replied.

He chuckled.

“I am used to this life.” He tried to argue.

“That doesn’t mean it’s good for you.”

“There’s only one puzzle piece missing from my life.” Damiano admitted.

“What is it?” 

The door of the arena opened, Thomas coming out.

“It’s your turn in the makeup chair. Or we’ll be late.” Thomas announced.

Damiano’s smile looked sad but you both put out your cigarettes and he put his hand on your back again and all three of you walked back.

“This conversation is not over.” You kissed his cheek before he went to get all pretty for the show.

**

Your heart always threatened to leave your chest whenever he was performing - a wild mix of joy, anxiety and pride, as well as love trying to overwhelm you and take over.

You always had the best time at their shows and there was something special about being able to greet him as soon as he was off stage and hug him and just.. have that moment.

“They are so cute together.” You heard Thomas tell Vic and the comment caused you both joy and pain.

“When will you put him out of his misery?” Ethan winked at you, making you blush.

You noticed that Damiano was red too but didn’t say anything.

“I am not going to kill him, if that’s what you’re asking for.”

“Y/N loves me that much at least.” Damiano teased.

Your mouth worked faster than your brain.

“I love you more than you could imagine.” You confessed, but assumed that your words would be taken as friendly love, nothing romantic. You didn’t want to make Damiano feel uncomfortable.

No one said anything until Vic finally suggested you all go to McDonalds for the after show ritual.

“Are you okay?” Damiano asked, taking the seat next to you.

“Just a bit tired.” You lied, trying to avoid talking about the elephant in the room and your recent love confession.

“Can we talk soon?” He brushed his hand against yours.

“You’re talking now.” Vic tried to make it less awkward in her own way. It only made you blush again and Damiano looked tired of the shenanigans.

“Privately, Victoria.” He emphasised and you wondered what that was about and if it will end up with you crying at the end of the night.

“We’ll talk. I promise.”

“Good. I have had some things on my mind that I want to share with you.”

You caught an exchanged look between Vic and Thomas and Ethan nudging them to keep quiet as you got to the McDonalds drive through.

About two hours later, you were in your hotel room, Damiano awkwardly standing in the doorway.

“I won’t bite. Come in.” You encouraged him.

“I hope you won’t.” He chuckled.

“Well, I can bite if you want me to, but I promise I will keep to myself.” You tried to be casual with your flirting and caught a smirk on his face as he sat down on your bed.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while because I feel like this conversation is long overdue.”

“Okay, please go ahead.” You could feel the anxiety building up in your stomach but there was nothing much that you could do except wait and see what the love of your life would say and try to live with whatever new reality is sprung on you.

“I’ve had feelings for you for a very long time.” Damiano started and stopped as soon as he saw the shocked expression on your face.

“What?”

“I have had feelings for you for as long as I can remember and it’s unfair on both of us if I just keep them for myself.”

You pinched yourself discreetly, hoping that this wasn’t just some trick that your brain might be playing on you.

“What do you mean you’ve had feelings for me for as long as you could remember?”

“I mean exactly what I said.” Damiano said calmly, but you could see the heartache starting to threaten. He thought you were rejecting him.

“And you never said anything?”

“No. I didn’t think it’s worth it. I always thought you could do better.”

You took a step closer to him.

“And what would happen if I were to tell you that I feel the same way?” You spoke quietly.

A look of pure shock went through his face.

“I would assume that you are kidding me.”

“You’ve known me my entire life, Damiano David. I would not lie to you, let alone about this.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I felt like you could do better.”

He looked too stunned to speak. 

“I love you.” You cupped his face very gently and felt his hands on your lower back, pulling you closer.

“I love you.” He smiled at you and you could see the tears coming to his eyes.

**

You walked downstairs to the lobby area hand in hand, smiles gracing both of your faces.

“Do not start with the “I told you so.””.  Damiano told Vic as she was opening her mouth. Ethan and Thomas started laughing as Vic looked almost scandalized even though it was what she was going to say.

“I want to know everything!” She said after recovering for a moment.

“We spoke.” You smiled, not holding back on the heart-eyes you were giving Damiano.

“Aaaaaaaand?” Vic nudged, wanting to know more.

“The rest is history.” Damiano winked at her.

This new, old love, this new and old situation and the space to be open about your feelings made you feel free, which in turn brought such joy that you kept pinching yourself to make sure that it’s all real. 

“Indeed, the rest is history.” You smiled and pulled your new boyfriend for a kiss.

--------------------------

taglist: @queendorkula @moonlight-simp @iosonoarina @oro-e-diamanti @hiraetheral @homesicam @ilwiwbysmv @bieberhoodforever @vita-thrasher @katyldamusic @ethaneskin @theimpossiblehologramtree @dubist-immerinmeinengedanken @butkutee @8iunie @sunflowerpumpkinpie @ventvnni @sarcastic-sourwolf @dpaccione @elvirabelle @cuzimitaliano @daddydamiano @shehaddreamstoo @iamtashaquinn @alexxavicry @inloveppp @tnu-ree @bigsimpsimp @ccweasley @maneskings @soficide

#damiano david #maneskin #damiano david x yn #damiano david x reader #damiano david x you #damiano david blurb #damiano david fanfic

[oro-e-diamanti]

Omg yaaas prompts are BACK ❤️ may I pls request number 16 "I missed you like I never missed anyone before." it made me think of the meaning of The Loneliest… what if it’s Damiano coming back from the writing session in LA and showing the reader the song

“I missed you like I never missed anyone before.”

Damiano + angst/fluff

There’s a fog over the airport when he arrives. When you hope he arrives. Worse, yet: Even if he does, you have no certainty whether he wants to see you or not. You can’t even being to describe how that’s making you feel.

You watch as the planes take off and land, one after the other, so many people, everyone with their own little stories, going somewhere, going home. You wonder how many have knots in their stomachs similar to yours. How many are on the way to the unknown. Who aren't sure who will greet them when they arrive. How it might change their lives, or not at all.

The arrivals hall is busy, bustling with people, the sound of suitcases being moved over the smooth floor, announcements echoing, mothers crying, children screaming in play or displeasure, lovers kissing, being reunited or torn apart. You wonder which one will be happening to you today.

The arrivals screen changes to “landed” where his flight is listed. Your heart drops, misses a beat, then comes back to life with twice the force. The uncertainty makes you feel like throwing up. You've always been the type to get queasy with anticipation and nerves. Only, you miss the times it would happen with the widest smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach, happily taking all the physical symptoms in the eyes of the excitement of him coming back home to you. Now it was pure anxiety.

The time until the first passengers walk through the doors and into the hall takes an eternity. It leaves you with too much time to think. Nothing else will occupy your time enough not to let your thoughts drift.

A break. You can’t even recall whose deranged idea it was. A fight that escalated in ways it never had before. You didn’t want to get loud and mean and unfair. Neither did he. It wasn’t about him. It wasn’t about you. It was the situation, it was his job, it was your responsibilities keeping you away from him, it was his accusation of not making enough of an effort and yours of not making compromises. It seemed silly the very second the fury had subsided. But the bad taste in your mouth lingered. A break. A chance for both of you to figure out what you want. A three-week trip away from home for him, three weeks of physical pain from the intensity of missing him.

You can’t count how many times you found yourself wondering if he was missing you too. At all. You had no way of knowing. Both of you had agreed to no contact. Take the time to really think things through. Find out if you still wanted each other in your lives and if yes, in which way. Pure torture. You even refrained from contacting the rest of the band, unwilling to bring any of them into your weird, messed-up situation. Only one message had reached you.

Our flight back gets in at 7 pm tomorrow.

You thanked the heavens for Vic. You still aren’t sure if he knows about the text at all, but that’s the least of your current worries. For now, you’re here. For now, you’re waiting for him.

You hate the way the sliding doors keep closing after each passenger, leaving you anxious and impatient for it to open again, just to see another stranger’s face. You still stare at each and every one of them intently, as if you could find him in their features, or gather any knowledge about him at all.

Ethan appears first. He spots you quickly, to your own surprise, since there are multiple people waiting for loved ones and business contacts and you’ve taken to hiding in the crowd. The fear of getting rejected while standing front row for all of these people to see was too humiliating. Ethan gives you a quick wave, puts his sunglasses on, and leaves. You assume he’s looking for their driver. You passed him by earlier but resigned to standing far away from him.

Thomas and Vic walk through the doors at the same time, she’s animatedly talking, hands moving around as much as possible with a heavy-looking bag in tow, he seems tired and not quite in tune with her energy. He spots you too and you can see him change course, direct his feet toward you, but Vic intervenes, a quick look over her shoulder, a soft smile for you, then she pulls Thomas away.

Then he’s there.

Damiano.

The love of your life. The one that left you wondering if you were his too.

He looks rougher thank you’ve ever seen him. And you’ve been there for a lot. He’s wearing a baseball cap and it’s pulled down into his face so much you would have missed him if you hadn’t been looking out for him in particular. You can still make out the dark circles under his eyes, pale skin that looks like he hasn’t been taking care of himself. There’s no energy in his step and he doesn’t look up.

But you need him to see you.

Stepping forward is all it takes. As if drawn in by an innate knowledge of you being around, he looks up, scanning his surroundings for the first time. It only takes a moment before he’s looking straight into your eyes. He doesn’t hesitate as he sets off your way. Your heart is pounding so hard you’re convinced you’re in danger of passing out.

But then he reaches you, his bag dropped and forgotten, and his arms wrap around you so tightly it feels like he’s attempting to make you a part of him. You don’t resist at all, molding against his chest, biting back the tears you don’t want to see on your face in a public setting.

“I-” His voice is hoarse and he immediately stops himself but you assume it’s not just because he sounds off. His eyes flicker away from your face, unable to ignore the people gawking around you. “Not here. Can I- can I take you home?”

You would love to tell him with a kiss. You nod instead.

Your eyes are scanning over the page, struggling to make out any single thought that has been put down on it, and for once it’s not due to Damiano’s handwriting. Your brain is clouded with panic and fear of rejection, you’ll be the saddest part of me, a part of me that will never be mine, words crossed out and re-written, underlined and hasty, the paper slightly crumpled at the edges, it’s torturous. You’re not entirely sure what to make of it, how to sort your thoughts. When you look up at Damiano from your spot on the couch, he’s pacing.

“I couldn’t write about anything but you,” he finally says. “The break… I wasn’t sure if I would see you again. I was completely prepared to have to beg and cry and fall on my knees for you to give me another chance.”

He crouches down in front of you now, holding out his hands to you. You take them immediately as relief floods his eyes.

“And I… I missed you like I never missed anyone before. And this,” he says, only briefly removing his hand from yours to point to a specific passage, “is all I want you to know.”

Cause I don’t even care about the time I’ve got left here The only thing I know now is that I wanna spend it With you, with you, nobody else here

It’s only when you laugh that you realise you’ve started crying. Damiano looks up at you, startled, already wiping away the tears from your cheeks.

“That’s awfully dramatic,” you say with a smile on your face. Your eyes are still watering but the weight has been lifted off your whole body, not just your chest. You feel so light, you’re convinced anything is possible right then and there. Damiano can’t keep the chuckle in either.

It’s not over. There’s a future. He missed you like you missed him. You can do this.

You grab his head into your hands and pull him toward you, finally, finally, putting your lips on his.

“I love you,” you mumble against him.

“I love you,” he replies.

“Good,” you grin, pressing another kiss on his mouth. “Only promise me one thing.”

“No more breaks?” he offers with a laugh.

“Well, that too, but I thought that was a given.”

“Anything you want, amore.”

“Record that song.”

#damiano david imagine #damiano david fanfic #damiano david fluff #maneskin fan fiction #maneskin fiction #maneskin imagine #damiano david blurb #blurb #blurbs #writing #my writing #prompt blurbs

[honeyimcoming]

happy national bf day to the man i’m mentally dating <3

#damiano david #maneskin #måneskin #victoria de angelis #damiano david fanfic

[ykaaaras]

The Preacher Masterlist

Pairing: DAMIANO DAVID x 2 fictional females insert

Story summary: Damiano exorcises a demon from Medusa, helps her to recover, and chooses to protect her from what she sees. However, he can’t protect her from one thing…

Story content and warnings: angst, priest Damiano David, dom Damiano David, original characters, hurt/comfort, supernatural, mystery, mention of religion, fluff, daddy kink, smut, mention of suicide, murder, death and possession, demon character, polyamory relationship

Word count: 15.2k (so far)

A/N: This story doesn’t intend to disrespect any beliefs or to preach, it’s all pure fiction for you to enjoy. Be nice.

Chapters:

Chapter 1 // Back To The End

Chapter 2 // Bury With Smile

#The Preacher #Damiano David #fanfic #Damiano David fic #Damiano David fanfic #priest Damiano David #Måneskin fic #Damiano x oc #Damiano David x oc #Damian David x original character #Damiano x original character #Damiano David x fictional female #Damiano David/fictional female #Damian David/oc #Damiano David/original character #original character #fictional female #angst #smut #fluff #writing #writeblr #religion #priest #possession #supernatural #mystery #priest/exorcist Damiano David #masterlist #AU

[writersblockiskillingme]

Dad Damaino please

Papà | Damiano David

Pairing: Damiano David x reader

Summary: You woke up in the middle of the night just so that you realize that Damiano is not with you, but don't worry. You know where to find him.

Warning/s: just pure fluff, mantion of hospitals a few times, pregnancy and babies and all that stuff, dad Damiano (yes that should be a warning itself), first time writing anything related to babies and that kind of stuff, possible grammar and spelling mistakes (English is my second language)

Author's note: Ding! Order up!🛎 Here is another Damiano fic as you requested. I really do hope you like it. It is truly the first time that I wrote anything that included this type of topics, but I hope that I did a decent job. Thank you for the request, anon. Feel free to send more requests. Enjoy!! 👩‍🍳

You were snuggled deep in the silk sheets on Damiano's and yours bed. Once you heard the noise the first time you just started to press your face much deeper in your pillow. The softness and the warmth of your side of the bed was overwhelming. You were finally back home. Back in your own bed.

Oh, how much you missed your comfortable side of the bed. The soft, squishy pillow that felt like you were resting your face on a literal cloud. You missed the softness so much. You knew one thing for sure. Hospital beds sucked. Very much so. But, aside from all that. One thing you missed the most, one thing that you literally wanted to kill for when you were forced to lay in uncomfortable hospital bed for days, was Damiano's soft touch when you slept.

The feeling of his arm tightening around you and bringing you closer to keep you warm at night when you were practically fast asleep. You missed the feeling of his soft breathing that you felt against your neck every night. You just missed feeling his warmth and being in his safe hold in your sleep. When you slept in the same bed with him, it felt like the safest place ever. You felt like you were the safest you could ever be in the whole wide world right when you were in his arms. Speaking of Damiano, soon enough, as you steached your arm out and your fingers felt the sheets on the other side of the bed where Damiano was supposed to be sleeping, you noticed that Damiano wasn't laing in bed anymore. That's when you heard that little whining voice again, but it was slowly calming down, it was slowly getting quite and you knew what it was. You knew what was happening.

You gathered all of the strength you could so you could open your eyes. You did so with, what seemed like, a lot of effort. You than steached your arm a little bit left soaking in the feeling of the cold side of bed which Damiano occupied, but now was nowhere to be found. Yet you were sure that you knew exactly where he was. And so, with that thought, you decided that you should get up and confirm your suspicion. You couldn't help but let out a small soft groan at the thought of getting up from the bed. It doesn't matter, you think to yourself, the bed was getting colder without him anyways. You lifted the covers off of you and slang your legs over your side of the bed so you could get up. As you did that, and got up afterwards, you, once again, couldn't help but let out another soft groan from the soreness. You still couldn't believe that all of this happened just a few days ago.

You slowly, quietly started to walk out of Damiano's and yours room and down the hallway. You watched your every step, careful as to not wake her up as Damiano probably got her back to sleep. Just when you thought that you had to open the door to the room that was not so far away from your bedroom you met with a wonderful sight.

There he was. Standing in the middle of the room, his back turned to you, facing the window which showed nothing but a complete darkness that the Italian night brought with it when it decided that Sun should be pushed away for a few hours before it was time for it to go back up. Even though his back was facing you, you could see that he was holding something in his arms or rather someone. As you stood frozen by the doorway, you watched as Damiano was slowly rocking her back and forth as he sang something in Italian to her. It was beautiful. It was truly beautiful. But most of all, it was peaceful and you didn't have the heart, you just couldn't bare, to break this peace between a father and a daughter. But you didn't have to. Damiano was first to notice your presence in the room. When you saw that he noticed you, you started to slowly walk up to him as he gave you a little soft smile. You leaned over his shoulder, holding onto him as you looked at the peaceful, sleeping face of your little girl.

"What are you doing up, amore?" He whispered once you joined them. "Did we wake you up?"

"I noticed that your side of the bed was cold and when I opened my eyes I saw that you were gone." You explained as you watched him watch you with beautiful pair of crystals that your daughter stole for herself, too. "I knew that I would find you here after I heard her voice." You told him as you pressed your finger against your daughter's soft cheek as you carefully tried to not wake her up with your action.

"You shouldn't be awake at his hour. Only a few days have passed since you were free to return home from the hospital." He started to ramble, you noticed that he started to speak faster, his Italian accent getting thicker and you couldn't help but smile at him. "You must sit down right now. You must rest." He continued with whispering his worries to you and you could hold back a quiet giggle that escaped your lips.

"Amore, I'm fine. I feel perfectly fine. Still a little sore, sure." You said and you immediately noticed how he shot you a worried look at that once again so you quickly continued to explain. "But I feel fine, Dami. Truly."

"But you would tell me if something was wrong." He gave you a look, never stopping with rocking your asleep daughter back and forth. "Right?"

"Of course I would. I promise." You promised with a smile and he seemed satisfied with your truthful answer.

"Good." He told you, but he still made you sit down on the rocking chair in the corner of the room.

At that moment you realized how lucky you truly were as to have this amazing family. You had a person who loved you unconditionally and would do anything for you just like you would do the same for him. He was your everything and you were his everything. As he shot a quick look and caught your sleeping form in a rocking chair he realized that he couldn't be happier. He had you. You had him. Him and your darling daughter Marlena.

->

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TAGLIST

@opal-rugger

#anon ask #anons welcome #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin x reader #damiano david #damiano david x reader #maneskin #imagine #damiano david x you #x reader #reader #fanfic #fic

[malina-33]

Femme Like You - Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Summary: You are the new tour manager for Arctic Monkeys during The Car era. You are practically the only girl in the team, also younger than the rest (27 y.o.), so your skills are immediately called into question. In particular, by the frontman who is not used to being led by a woman.

Word count: 10,2k

Warnings: swearing, emotional swing (is it even a warning?), kind of voyeurism (slight), age gap

A/N: Dear friends, hi!! I know, I know that I've promised you to update the fic every 3 weeks, and the disappeared for 1.5 months, but I spontaneously found a job, so there was very little time. But the chapter is much longer and with some interesting collaborations ;) I'll hope you enjoy them!

And write down what do you think if I make a description of not only the whole work, but also the chapter before each new part? Or is it better to keep the intrigue till the end?

In any case, I look forward to your feedback, it's soooo much important for me. I won't promise to return before the end of September, but I'll do my best not to delay. I already have an interesting plot for the next chapters, you should like it💔

*guys, English isn't my first language so if I have (and I know I have lol) any grammar/logic mistakes don't hesitate to tell me :)

The first week after meeting with the group flew by unnoticed. You dealt with the documentation, understanding how necessary it is, no matter how much you hated it, phoned the representatives of Ashton Gate stadium, made sure that everything was okay and confirmed the presence of the group and even tried to check the weather since the gig would be held outside. However, it turned out to be a little more difficult with the transport company. Apparently, James forgot to warn them about the temporary removal of his duties, so you had to spend time clarifying the situation and explaining who you are. It seemed that your hands-on approach was excessive, because you were trying to control everything in one time, but only due to the feeling of extra responsibility.

Steven, as promised, sent the contacts of the guys and important people from the technical crew, so now your phone had the names of Jamie Cook, Nick O'Malley, Matthew Helders and Alex "dickhead" Turner among others. 19 years old you would definitely envy yourself. So when you got a message while cooking pasta for dinner on Saturday night, you already knew it was from the drummer and not from an anonymous online scammer.

Matthew Helders: "good evening, Miss Y/S! I hope you aren't busy. We'll wait you on the soundcheck on Monday at 2 pm in Domino, need your advice :)"

You almost overcooked Carbonara bacon rereading the message. "Do they really need my advice?" you whispered, furrowing your brows "About what?". But the only answer was:

You: "Sure! Do I need to take some 12% cider?"

Matthew Helders: "you better not show up without a package lol"

Immediately followed by:

Matthew Helders: "just kidding! We are waiting only for you, but in the company of cider it will be even better)"

You chuckled, surprised at how quickly Matt went from formal Miss at the beginning of the conversation to smiles and lols at the end. To tell the truth, you still didn't fully understand how to behave with them. On the one hand, you are their manager and have a certain influence, as well as subordination. Steven and James don't have it, although they are "higher" in position, but they've been friends for half of a life, and you are a completely new person. On the other hand, in this area there is no place for strict formalities, especially since the guys don't look like those who would comply with them. After all they were big kids no matter how mature and pretentious they could look on stage, and you clearly felt it. Maybe your company will help them to relax even more, so there won't be any awkwardness and you will naturally find an edge where all of you will feel comfortable and which no one will cross.

With those thoughts, Carbonara and Rosé you spent your Saturday night watching your favorite series "La Piovra". You got used to such calm and quiet evenings. The era of parties until the morning has passed in the university years, and it’s not that you don’t go to clubs now, it’s just that the older you become the better you began to appreciate moments of silence. Not to be bored alone with yourself is the most valuable skill that you have acquired in your life. Having lived first with your parents for a long time, then getting married early at the age of 20 and having lived with your husband for 3 years, you were essentially not left alone with yourself. Having discovered over time that you feel absolutely nothing for the person whom you said "yes" to in the registry office, you were horrified and frightened to say at least. You thought that you get married once for a lifetime, but it turned out that happy endings exist only in fairy tales. That period of despondency, depression and eventual deepening into work gave its results. Major labels began to notice you, inviting you to musical projects with famous bands such as Maneskin. You worked with them for 1.5 years, leaving after their heyday at the Eurovision, realizing that you can’t give them more. That was your second decision to leave, but unlike the divorce, it didn't bring you much suffering. You understood that you and the group gave each other a lot, and although the parting was bitter, everyone understood that it was necessary. You still remained friends with the guys and periodically wrote off to meet. You planned to go to their concert, but couldn't find the time. And after your assignment to the Monkeys it became even more harder to shedule.

After the divorce you didn't have a serious relationship, instead you had a dream job, money, a car, a country house and even a corgi Grapes. You weren't afraid of the future, loved the time in seclusion and found inner peace by meditating on the production of cider, which was your unusual but very tasty hobby. Were you fully happy, though? Wouldn't you like to cross the threshold of the house and be met not by a dog's barking, but by a warm kiss on the forehead and a quiet "how was your day"? You probably wanted to, but it was hard to admit, especially considering that the fear of intimacy sat somewhere deep inside, not letting you forget the disappointment that you experienced when you removed the engagement ring from your finger. Although you remained friends who didn't hold evil against each other, the bitterness of your marriage was almost impossible to remove from the memories.

But for now, your head has been occupied by the sudden question of where to put Grapes for the duration of the tour...

Monday morning was sunny and peaceful, you woke up in a surprisingly good mood, put on your make-up, put on your favorite lime flared jeans, loaded a case of apple drink from the basemеnt into the car, patted Grapes and drove off to the studio. The road took about an hour, so during this time you managed to phone your father. You haven't talked much lately due to your workload, and now was almost the only time of the day when you were relatively free. You put the speaker phone mode, listening to the slightly hoarse voice of the man, without being distracted from the road.

"Hello my dear! How are you?"

"Hi daddy, I'm fine, going to work right now"

"My busy bee, James has already told me about your progress" you could hear him chuckle, coughing a little. You could only guess what Ford said to your father, because you spoke to him only once in these 2 weeks, when you recalled him after meeting with the group. And not that your story was very colorful. Therefore, the guys or Steven contacted him, and from this point of view, you couldn't imagine what they possibly come up with towards you.

"He assured me the boys liked you"

"Oh, really?" you said on the exhale, squeezing your hands on the steering wheel tightly.

"Yes, James is pleased with you. Well done, babe!" you melted under his words. It felt like you were a little girl again who drew a family picture that was hung on the refrigerator, even though mom and dad looked like monsters.

"Thank you daddy, I'm very happy to be with them actually"

"Of course, in such a company of men. Should I be jealous? 'Cause I looked through their photos on the Internet" dad said proudly, to which you burst out laughing, stopping at a traffic light.

"Dad, c'mon, no! They're too old for me" you laughed.

"10 years are not a big deal. Anyway, your choice. Just don't forget to eat please, I know how tough you work now. Otherwise you'll get drunk on your cider. God, how did you even manage to get into this alcohol sphere..." the man groaned in prostration. You rolled your eyes, but still smiled without answering. You got used to your father's fast flow of different thoughts.

"And don't roll your eyes, little naughty one! I care about you. So if they hurt you, you know who to call, right?"

"Oi, who will offend whom first" you retorted defiantly.

"Okay okay, I won't interrupt anymore. Kiss Grapes for me. I love you"

"And I love you very much, hello mom"

"I'll pass it on, bye!"

You turned off the call, fully focusing on the road. After talking with your parents, you always felt warm in your soul, so up to the studio you didn't leave a smile when you sang songs from the radio under your breath.

You arrived exactly at 2 o'clock, as agreed with Matt, but when you saw a few more cars in the parking lot in addition to the familiar Cadillac, you realized that the guys had been here for a long time. You must have looked a little ridiculous in a business suit and heels and a wooden box under your arm, but you didn't have other choice. Holding the car key in your mouth and trying to press the button at the same time, you clumsily closed the trunk with your leg. A purse was still dangling somewhere on your shoulder, and sunglasses had slipped from head to the bridge of your nose. "Must be an amazing picture to observe" you thought tiredly "Oh, if only Matt were here".

But before you had time to think about it, you heard a soft laugh behind you. You turned around sharply, noticing the frontman smoking alone near the entrance. You spat the key into the box, finally pressing the right button, and shouted

"And how long do you look?"

"I came exactly at the most interesting moment" man smiled, taking a puff.

You heavily crossed the entire parking lot, approaching him. Turner, having finished smoking a cigarette and throwing it into a nearby trash can, silently took the box from your hands.

"Hi, Y/N" he greeted you wheezing nicotine in the lungs.

"Hi," you frowened a little, but slowly added "Alex".

Calling him by his first name was... Unusual. A week ago the appeal to him was exclusively Mr. Turner, but today he was the first to break this line. "Well, apparently, we will both have problems with the boundaries of what is acceptable" bitterly flashed through your thoughts.

You both entered the building - Alex with a box in front, you behind holding the door. The way was silent. You wanted to say something to break this crystal quietness of his, but by the time you mustered up the courage, you stopped at the door 13A. The vocalist pushed it with his left shoulder, squeezing the alcohol forward, and you trotted along.

As soon as you and Alex entered the sound studio, you were immediately greeted with whistling and loud hooting.

"Look who's here, Miss Y/N"

"Hi, guys! I'm here with gifts as promised" you smiled broadly.

Alex at this time put the box on the table and immediately took one bottle for himself.

You noticed that there were Tyler and Tom in the studio as well, so you mentally praised yourself for taking bottles with a margin. You didn't know them personally yet, but was willing to change it. Turner introduced you to the men, and surprisingly you didn't hear his usual sneer in the voice.

"So, welcome Y/N Y/S, she's our manager for the summer before America starts and James gets back"

"Happy to finally meet you!" you were the first to extend your hand to Tyler, which he shook gently, smiling affably, and then to Tom. But he intercepted your hand, kissing your knuckles and making you laugh.

"Mutually, Miss" Rowley said enchanted.

"And she makes her own awesome cider, get one" Matt ordered businesslike, raising his voice from behind the drum kit.

"Yeah, there is enough for everyone, don't hesitate to take"

Evidently you arrived during the break, and before that they had already rehearsed a bit. You were wondering what kind of advice they need from you. The thought that they just needed cider you pushed back with a grin. But Alex, as if reading your thoughts, leisurely started speaking leaning on the table and holding a drink.

"Well, thanks for the cider, but that's not what we called you for. Since you're such a big fan of My Propeller, we discussed it here and decided that it's possible to put one on the set list for a couple of times. So listen to how it sounds, maybe have some ideas or whatevah" he was trying to sound casual, not attaching importance to his words for you.

"I'll do my best!" you almost jumped from such news.

Jamie chuckled audibly, running his fingers over the guitar. You sat down on the couch as Matt tapped the rhythm with his sticks and the melody began.

Seductive. The first association that came to your mind when you heard the intro of this song. It was your favorite from Humbug for sure and one of the band's all time favorites. Alex never told in any interview what was the secret of the lyrics, and probably that was the reason it attracted you even more. The guys played it selflessly, as if there hadn't been those decades that they hadn't performed it. You liked how they gave themselves to the process, even if it was just a rehearsal. They were in simple t-shirts and Matt was proudly wearing pineapple shorts, but you could swear, a real concert was unfolding right in front of you.

When Alex started singing you tried to hide the goosebumps as best as you could, but it hardly worked out well. His voice flowed melodically, not betraying a hint of wheezing or breaking, which could arise due to the age. He closed his eyes, tightly gripping the microphone stand, and moved his feet to the beat, slightly ridiculous, but at the same time gracefully. Throughout the song, you didn’t take your eyes off the group for a minute, sometimes singing along to the words, pulling the last syllable of

 Coax me out my law

And have a spin of my propeller

When the song ended, you clapped and Nick even made a mock bow.

“I don’t know how objective my assessment will be, because apart from the words of delight I have nothing to add” you honestly admitted. It seemed to you that you heard Alex's quiet "As I said", but Matt was quick to interrupt him asking you "Actually, we have already decided to play it in Bristol, but the question is where to chip in. We'll definitely not start with this one, and the outro is already completed, so..."

You thought a little, trying to understand what motives My Propeller reminds you of, and then the penny dropped.

"Pretty Visitors!" you exclaimed louder than you should have because your words echoed through the silent studio.

"Smooth interlude from Pretty Visitors, yeah, not bad actually" Alex quickly developed your idea, turning to Matt, as if asking "Do you mind?", but the drummer only closed his eyes approvingly. It seemed that they didn't need any words at all, they could understand each other with guitar riffs and drum brakes. Their connection, it was amazing, honed to automatism for past 20 years. They were like scientists in a chemistry lab mixing potions together in an attempt to make a new elixir. It was magic to come true and watching this process was so intimate that you involuntarily felt the heat on your cheeks, as if you were engaged in voyeurism.

***

The hours in the studio flew by. Fortunately for you, the guys decided to surprise fans with the return of Mardy Bum which will be the opener. The exact setlist for Bristol was confirmed at the end of the rehearsal, bringing back Teddy Picker and The View From The Afternoon as well. So looking at the perfect 21 songs, you could only imagine what they would save for London. Originally you were going to visit their concert in your hometown, you bought tickets as soon as sales were announced, but after James's call you easily gave the ticket to a friend, saying that you had won a jackpot.

Tom and Tyler have already left and the five of you are left. You were sitting on a soft chair, moved from the corner of the room, and the guys opposite on the sofas. The boys had laid down their guitars and you were leding a peaceful conversation about life, since the studio rental time ended only in an hour. You told them about your career in the industry, Maneskin and the part time projects you've been working on lately, omitting the details of your divorce because you thought it was too early for them to immerse themselves in such personal aspects of your life.

"By the way, Vic is your big fan and Alex in particular" you giggled, remembering the way drunk Maneskin bassist told you that she would like to sleep with Turner. Those were the carefree times of your youth you warmly remembered.

"Really?" Matt raised his eyebrows as he sipped his seemingly endless bottle of cider "You still have their contacts, right?"

"Yeah, sure, we even text each other occasionally" you quipped.

"And you didn't say you were working with us?" Heldres was surprised.

"Actually, somehow it didn't seem possible" you lowered your gaze, "I mean what would it look like? "Hey guys, look who's here, I now manage the Monkeys btw?" - so what?"

You could tell by the Cheshire smile on Matt's bristly face that this was exactly how he thought.

"Oh no, Matthew, don't you-"

"Oh yes, darling, dial FaceTime, you'll show them our doll" the man neighed, turning to Alex, who had been sitting quietly on the couch until this moment, and fidgeted in place after the suggestion.

"For God's sake, Matt, what a kindergarten behavior" the vocalist howled irritably, rolling his eyes, "I don't even remember their names".

The idea of making fun of Turner a little for the morning case with the box and taking revenge seemed to you unexpectedly delightful. Your hand automatically sank into your pants pocket, deftly pulling it out into the light and finding the right WhatsApp chat.

"Don't worry, you just have to say hi to Vic, I'm sure you'll be fine" you sang sweetly, glancing slyly at Matt, who chuckled approvingly, glad that you supported his idea.

Alex only cursed at this and ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it. Either from nerves, or putting his hair in order before the call.

You moved from your seat to the couch between Alex and Matt, gesturing for Nick and Jamie to join. You put your hand in front of you so only your face was visible in the camera frame, waiting for one of the guys to take the call. It might have been a little ill-advised to call like this without warning on a workday evening, but anyway it was already too late, as the beeps trailed in a string of sounds. You hoped that they didn't have a concert today, in any other case, one of them would definitely pick up the phone from you. And by a happy coincidence, it was Vic who ended up on your screen.

"What the hell, Miss Boogie, are you really occasionally calling after all this time of silence?" despite Victoria de Angelis's accusatory words, she sounded playful. She was a little disheveled and with a bright blush on her face. People were walking randomly with the string interruptions in the background. Apparently, the guys were at the soundcheck at one of the venues, and Vic recently finished playing.

Four pairs of eyes openly stared at you with undisguised interest after hearing the nickname, demanding an answer, but you just mouthed "later".

"Awww, sweetheart, and I'm happy to hear you again too!" you said with an ironic smile.

 "I have a lot of news for you, and I will definitely call you in private soon"

"Are you not alone? Who's with you?" the girl even moved closer to the camera in an attempt to see something.

"Well, I have a little surprise for you. Actually four surprises, but one of them you'll find really special" you said conspiratorially, looking around at the guys who were still out of the picture. Alex sat to your right, trying to portray the most distant look, as if everything that was happening was nothing more than baby talk for him.

"Darling, if you have a group orgy without me, then I will be offended and drop the call" the bassist said threateningly, wiping her forehead with a towel that was hung on her shoulder.

You just burst out laughing "Ok ok, I'm not languishing you anymore. I hope you're ready. Boys, say hi to Vics" and you finally moved the camera further so that Matt, Nick and Jamie, who were sitting to your left, got into the camera frame, Alex's appearance you saved for a dessert.

The musician's reaction exceeded all your expectations. At first she narrowed her eyes, bringing the phone even closer to face, and then she widened them with a loud squeal, jumping up from her seat.

"What the hell, Y/N! What the actual fuck, you're a shitty mutherfucker!!!" she covered her mouth with her hand, chaotically moving the phone in different directions. Apparently, other members of the group came running to her scream, as you heard the voice of Damiano asking what happened.

"What happened?" she repeated "The fucking Arctic Monkeys are sitting next to Y/N!" answering a question off-camera and stabilizing the phone. Now you could clearly see the vocalist leaning over her shoulder, Thomas to the side and Ethan slightly behind.

Finally, the men next to you decided to introduce themselves "Hey, guys, what's new?" Matt said smiling to the camera, Jamie and Nick just waved their hands in a friendly manner.

"Oh my God, what's going on" Vic, still dumbfounded, spoke with a face of complete amazement. Damiano, who quickly figured out the whole situation and realized that Vic was unlikely to be able to communicate normally now, carefully took the phone from her hands.

"Hi, Y/N, long time no see! Hi, boys, how fresh you are" the frontman winked. The words "for your age" were suggested mutely, but David left them behind the scenes. The men next to you just laughed quietly at this remark and saluted the Italian boy.

"Vic, that's not all yet, look who's next to me" wanting to finally finish off your friend, you moved the camera to the side, revealing Alex's presence, who was already sitting with a polite smile on his face, leaning on the sofa armrest.

"Hi, love" Turner murmured hoarsely, turning on his usual charisma. You were surprised how quickly he went from "fuck off everyone" to his stage persona. Indeed, a skill acquired over the years.

De Angelis, after looking at the camera for just a second, squealed even harder than the first time, which you even grimaced a little, because in a quiet studio it sounded deafening.

The camera was still held by Damiano, but the girl in the frame could be seen doubled over, holding back cries of happiness. Her guys just laughed out loud at this, knowing full well what a strong fan of Alex she was.

"Y/N, I'm going to fucking kill you, I'll strap your ass so you can't sit still for another week, what are you doing to me?" Vic didn't let go of expressions, which made the men next to you shamelessly laugh, even Turner smiled predatoryly.

"Holy shit, you're real" the girl muttered in one breath.

Her adoration entertained Alex. Celebrities fangirling celebrities wasn't an unknown story for Alex, so the way Vic behaved didn't annoy him, but brought a feeling of sincere pleasure from what was happening.

"It would be strange if I wasn't, mhm?" the man grunted, changing the position - now he rested elbows on his knees, bringing the face closer to your phone. You could smell his light apple scent from the cider you both drank and the cigarette halo that soaked into all of the frontman's clothes.

Damiano finally decided to take control over the situation by turning the camera completely on himself.

"So, Y/N, if you wanted to surprise Vic, then you succeeded 100%! But we are now at soundcheck, and we don't have much time, and she" nodding towards the bassist "still needs to be brought to her senses. We were extremely happy to hear from you, babe. Call us when you are free and tell us everything in detail. Miss you very much!"

"Guys, me too! Love ya, see you at Glasto!"

"Wait! Take a screenshot!" Vic's desperate exclamation came from Damiano's left side.

He made a focused face, looking for the right buttons, while you and the men simultaneously smiled at the camera.

"Send it to the chat" you asked, ending the call and blowing a virtual kiss. You obviously cut off Vic's "I love you" without being entirely sure it was addressed to you.

The studio immediately froze in deafening silence. You put your phone down on the coffee table, still smiling.

"That was a real buzz, they're cute" Matt said leaning back on the couch. The mood of the guys clearly improved by this little conversation. You were glad that you could somehow diversify their evening after a productive and exhausting day. Even Alex stopped keeping his always compressed lips and frowning eyebrows.

"So, Miss Boogie, right?" Jamie began slyly, reminding you of your infamous nickname.

An approving "ooooo" reverberated around the room, from which you hid behind your palms.

"Damn, I was hoping you'd forget" you muttered from your hiding place.

"C'mon, we're intrigued already" Nick reached out to you through Matt, gently taking your hands away from your face.

Jamie suddenly started chanting your name, encouraging you to reveal this terrible secret, and Matt whistled as if Sheffield FC had just scored a goal.

"God, okay, just shut up please" you gave up.

The four men took more comfortable positions in anticipation of your story.

"In fact, there is nothing special in this story, it's just stupid. When Maneskin was approved for Eurovision, we went to celebrate, how can we not. It was in Milan. We got very drunk in a bar and went for a walk around the city. It was about 3 in the morning, and to entertain ourselves we played Truth or Dare. The most banal thing that could be, but nothing better came to mind. And I chose Dare, 'cause everyone else only cowardly told their secrets. So Vic asked me to dance for a minute on the street to any song that a passerby would name. Well, since at such time you are unlikely to meet any adequate passerby, we only found a beggar in the square. I don’t know how old he was, but the first song that he remembered was Boogie Wonderland" at this point you made a dramatic pause, "so yes, I had to dance to this song at night in front of other poor people who came up to us. Since then they call me Miss Boogie. Everyone is satisfied now, having fun, huh?"

You intentionally crossed your arms in insult, surreptitiously watching the laughing band.

"I bet there's a video" Matt said cheekily.

"Yes, there is, but you'll never see it!" you retorted quickly, glaring at the drummer.

"Your hot cheeks make me want to see this video even more" Nick teased tapping Matt on the shoulder.

"You know what," Alex suddenly announced, "choose any song you want. We play it, and you show the video"

You could swear your jaw was somewhere on the floor.

"Woah, did you decide to go all-in?" Matt asked, also not expecting such a generous offer "Be careful, otherwise you will have to play a Taylor Swift song"

"Ouch, why do you think I like her?"

"Who doesn't like her?"

"Your truth" you nodded approvingly.

"I meant our song. We'll perform it at the concert" Turner interrupted your dialogue, looking at you testily from under his eyelashes.

There was a slight silence, which you broke with a heavy sigh.

"Wow, okay, this is getting interesting" you muttered, leaning back on the couch like Helders had done earlier. The three men to your left looked at each other in surprise, waiting for an answer, while you've been thinking, looking at the frontman.

"Certain Romance," you easily stated, "I want this one"

"Your wish is my command, Miss Boogie," he joked without any hint of smile, standing up "you guys remember how to play it, don't you?"

The guys looked at each other dumbfounded, unable to find words for such a drastic change in the behavior of the vocalist, but after a discordant series of affirmative nods, they received a condescending smile from him.

"Well, that's great, there's still time to rehearse. I propose Sheffield!" Alex said solemnly, thrusting his hands into the pockets.

"Al, ru ok?" Matt raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"All right, man" Turner said artificially.

"This house is a circus indeed" swirled through your head. Alex's behavior was defiant. Emerging into conflict. Literally a minute ago everything was peace and quiet, and now he, like a proud peacock, was arranging a show for you at the level of a cheap soap opera.

"No, but seriously, let's even organize a lottery, since Y/N has such an influence on the setlist" Alex didn't let up.

"Come on, pipe down, you suggested it yourself" Nick intervened carefully, not wanting to stir up the smoldering coals of the conflict.

"And I think all of you are into this idea, aren't you?" Turner didn't raise his low, heavily accented baritone, but the underlying toxicity in his tone was evident, "oh, even better, let's ask our Italian friends for advice! Let's get their opinion and her video as well".

"Alexander, smoke?" you stood up decisively from the couch, grabbing your purse and phlegmatically glancing at the wooden cider box you'd probably have to leave in the studio. But you couldn’t leave the guys in such an atmosphere, so out of courtesy you promised to return again.

"Y/N, no problem, see you before Bristol! Send the screen to our group, 'cause I'm getting jealous for these Italians" Matt gave you an encouraging wink in the end, and you certainly promised to do it tonight.

"They'll kill each other"

"He doesn't stand a chance"

Jamie and Matt said at the same time as the door closed behind you.

Alex imposingly walked ahead, not hurrying anywhere. He politely said goodbye to the security guard, noting that the rental period had already come to an end. Almost bowing, he opened the door to the street for you, artificially gallantly holding it with his hand, still making a show from every gesture, which for some reason made you feel disgusted. You were counting on working with middle-aged men, accomplished musicians, but it feels like you are talking to teenagers.

Damp cold air from the river hit your red cheeks, which made you wrap yourself in a jacket more tightly. Alex took out a pack of Marlboro, offering you one, but nodding to himself, removed it, remembering your words a week ago practically at the same place.

"Well?" he said with a cigarette in his mouth, lighting the filter.

The sky was overcast with a milky haze of fog, which wasn't uncommon for these places, a weak wind was blowing, but not a single sound from the road was heard, which made you hear sparks from ignited tobacco hiss like champagne bubbles, falling on the asphalt.

Alex exhaled noisily, squinting at you with his eyes. His face was faintly lit by the flame of a cigarette, but even in such low light, it was noticeable that his gaze was completely blank. "Amazingly indifferent and deep eyes at the same time. It's impossible to tell anything from them" you thought. Or maybe he was like this only with unpleasant people to him, who you apparently were. You can’t even imagine the way these eyes changed on stage "Where are you real, Alexander?". But instead of asking this, you just threw your head back, tiredly closing your eyelids, showing with your whole appearance how absurd the situation is.

"Alex," there wasn't any visible point to call him Mr. Turner even though you were annoyed "I thought we made a deal, didn't we?"

"Really? When?" his voice sounded even more affected than in the studio, despite the fact that now the man spoke rather quietly and slowly. Or maybe even a whisper would be loud in this ringing silence.

"I just don't understand what the problem is" you continued, as if you didn't hear his words.

"I don't see it either, Miss Y/S"

You raised your eyebrows high as you asked a silent question, which made Alex smirk slightly. Taking a puff, he began to explain to you with the intonation of a parent teaching a child not to put his fingers in the socket.

"Listen, I won't hide it, you brought some chaos to our tour. This is different from your direct duties though - to solve all the problems on our way. But you're a stranger who stirred up our peace and foundation. I was initially against this idea, but James left me no choice. You are undoubtedly an educated young lady, and probably from a moral point of view, I sound like a scoundrel now-"

"You sound unprofessional, Alex. You only make me feel contempt, and I don't care about any moral side"

The frontman looked at you from under his brows, taking out a second cigarette in a row from the pack, waiting for a further reaction, but inside you was a frozen magma that didn't want to break out, muffled by self-esteem. For now.

His words contradicted his behavior. In the morning he carries your boxes and asks for a song advice, and in the evening he gives out this shit. If women's logic is ridiculed by society, then men do not have it at all.

“You know what, when James offered me this job, I was damn excited and proud that I would be working with a team like yours. I was on a cloud nine. But you, Alex, you're just a spoiled boy in the body of a 37-year-old man who hasn't overplayed his ambitions and thinks that his subtle nature is so fragile to understand that you need to hide behind the facade of an asshole so that normal people with good intentions don't crawl into your soul. You are cowardly and arrogant!"

You were breathing heavily, and the words "fool fool fool" stretched on repeat in a red line behind your eyes.

You didn't even understand how they escaped from your lips, absolutely thoughtlessly. You even instinctively wanted to raise a hand to cover your mouth, but pulled yourself back in time, deciding to play to the end. Show after show.

Alex hadn't raised a cigarette to his face during your tirade, so that the wick was almost dead in his fingers. You intensively looked at each other without stopping, and at some point it seemed to you that fear flashed in his pupils. Fear of the revealed truth. However, they were covered with a thick veil of indifference to what was happening in a second, and he finally took the last puff, throwing the butt right on the road.

"Miss Y/S, it seems that you have to go" the musician said unemotionally.

You took one last burning look at his features and, without saying a word, turned around towards your car. How ironic, a week ago you left each other in roughly the same sequence of activities - studio, cider, parking lot, but under completely different circumstances.

Slamming the door shut, you sharply revved, not bothering to warm up the engine, and drove out of the parking lot with a clang of tires. Burning tears of resentment gushed from your eyes, covering the already foggy road in front, but you didn't pay attention.

Your cooperation has just begun, and you have already swept on an emotional swing. Only in the morning you were driving in a car towards the sun and rejoicing at the warm words of your dad, and in the evening you return home, wiping the salty paths with the back of your hand from your face.

You were never embarrassed by tears, you cried out almost all of them during a divorce, but if they dripped from your eyes today, then there was a reason for that. Your parents taught you that after rain there is always a rainbow, after tears there is always peace of mind, you need to be able to live through any emotions in order to turn them into your power later.

***

You haven't seen the boys since that evening until today's early departure for Bristol. Of course, you communicated on all sorts of organizational issues during this time and there was no visible tension, especially since they didn't hear about your quarrel with Alex. You were more than sure that he would not tell his friends about that incident. This is what infringes on him, and therefore makes him weaker, which he couldn't allow.

All these days you have wondered what was the reason for such a sharp behavior, however you couldn't really delve into yourself. Why exactly you were crying - from resentment, overstrain or just an emotional outburst, it was also difficult to understand. Perhaps all together. Over the past month, from your first conversation with Ford to recent events, your life has changed 180 degrees, so it's no surprise that your psyche gave a little glitch.

You've comforted yourself with routines though — setting Grapes up with a friend until your next visit to London, inviting your parents over for dinner to tell you all the details, packing your suitcase for the tour, checking out all the technical stuff, and almost forgetting what kind of adventure you're packing for.

And now, without any idea of the nearest future, you were sitting in a black Mercedes Sprinter between Marcus and James Kerr, Ben was in the passenger seat in front, Steven was riding with the group in the bus. It was only 8 am, you were sleepy, only at the last moment you didn’t forget to remove eye patches before going out, you didn’t even put on makeup, so you sat in the wide sunglasses, even though the sun wasn't visible through the tinted windows of the car.

It seemed that everyone was relaxed, easily communicated with each other and knew exactly what each would do upon arrival at the venue. Unlike you. The schedule was pretty clear - check-in at the hotel, lunch, departure for the soundcheck and then free time for the management and the band, but very busy time for the technicians. Of all this, the most sensible thing was to drink plenty of wine at dinner and walk around the rest of the day in a relaxed state of mind, but those were only pitiful thoughts of creeping fear. Deep inside you were sure that everything would be fine, it couldn’t be otherwise, because even if you didn’t know how to do this or that task, the guys knew their duties, and they physically couldn’t play the concert badly.

"Hey, Y/N, you kinda took working with us too seriously" Marcus snapped you out of your thoughts with his mocking tone.

"I'm sorry, what?" you asked, turning to him.

He touched the bridge of his nose with his index finger and chuckled. It took you another couple of seconds to figure out what he meant, so he took advantage of your confusion to explain "you now going to wear glasses in the dark as well?"

The reference to Alex was read transparently, so you imperceptibly flinched and pointedly removed them, as if not wanting to be associated with him at all.

"No, no, I just didn't have time to do my make up" you honestly admitted, shrugging your shoulders ingenuously.

"Oh, I'm sorry, we-" the guy looked around at all the passengers, "we don't understand this here"

You laughed slightly, at the same time relaxing, and asked him a question that had been of interest to you for a long time.

"Why don't you have women in the team? I mean at all"

Instead of Marcus, Ben decided to answer from the front seat, apparently as the eldest among you.

“It didn’t happen on purpose, but later it became kind of unspoken rule. We are here like on the fishing, you know? We leave our wives, spend time within our male company, it’s like an alternative branch of your life, you do quality work here, you feel needed, while no one owe you nothing and you feel absolutely free in your actions, understanding thoroughly those who are around you"

"Are you aware that this is how a normal team should work, regardless of gender? It sounds somehow sexist. Am I really embarrassing you in actions?" you smiled slyly, anticipating the denouement.

"Actually, besides you, we have 3 other women in the team.." Marcus embarrassingly chipped in.

"Guys, don't bother yourself with excuses, I knew who I was messing with" you laughed, crossing your legs. Marcus looked at you dumbfounded, but said nothing, and James just chuckled softly at the window.

"Well, if you knew that, then you also should know about our tradition, right, guys?" Ben began in a conspiratorial tone, exchanging glances with the guys.

"Um, about what?" you arched an eyebrow in disbelief.

"The newbie is signed up for the after-party. Tonight is your first concert, and after that we go to the bar, the drinks are off you! We're equal here" Ben imperturbably continued to scan your reaction with a fox-eye, waiting for an answer. It's not that you're greedy or unable to pay, but to buy drinks for the whole team...

And as if ahead of your question, the man added "enough management and the band".

As if it changed the essence. But you couldn't refuse, so you mumbled something affirmative, getting a roar of male hoarse laughter in response, and starting to laugh at yourself. You appreciated in people, especially males, this ability - to make a woman laugh. In a time of constant change and stress, finding someone who will make you forget about it was very important.

The rest of the road was spent in the same good mood, and these conversations did help you to forget about your anxiety due to upcoming events. Upon arrival, all the management team and the band settled in the hotel. As James promise, you've been given a private suite overlooking the most beautiful park in the city center. But due to an unknown coincidence, you lived not on the same floor with the attendants, but through the door from the group.

Matt carried your things to your room and you agreed to meet for lunch in 20 minutes.

Since you were able to miraculously did a make up even in the car, thanks to the sensitive driving, now you decided to change into more presentable clothes in which you will be at the concert.

Without changing the habit of choosing clothes carefully and for a long time, you took off your hot sweatshirt, remaining in only sweatpants and starting to go through the whole suitcase in search of those things that would match your mood. You had a couple of looks planned, but today's unexpectedly warm weather changed your plans a little, so you confidently took out a black leather skirt and a white blouse.

A piece of matter fit all your forms perfectly, so you were satisfied with the choice, spinning in front of the mirror by the bed. The black bodice harmonized perfectly with the skirt, and the crazy idea of ​​staying only in it, without putting on anything, flashed through your head like a bullet, but flew out just as quickly as soon as you heard the muffled thud of heels on the carpet outside the door and a muttered "Jamie?" at your door followed by a knock. You hysterically shouted "No!" exactly at the moment when the door opened without a click.

"Shit, Y/N!" Alex, not having time to properly enter your room, but having clearly noticed you in a compromising way, abruptly recoiled, remaining in the corridor, but not completely closing the door so that he could hear you, but not see.

"God! What a mess" you pleaded, rushing to the door. You stuck out only your head, meeting the eyes of the musician, who was discomposedly staring at you point-blank.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Why are you naked?"

You asked at the same time, shouting over each other.

"This is my room! And I'm not naked!"

"Where's Jamie? I thought he was at 312" Turner asked, a little bewildered, clearly embarrassed.

"I have no idea where Jamie is. How did you even get in?" you were still half-dressed, hiding most of your body behind a wooden door.

"I knocked, but it turned out that it was not slammed at all"

"What the fuck? Maybe Matt didn't close when he left," you muttered more to yourself. You clearly saw the question “What did Matt do here?” that arose in Alex’s head, but which he never voiced. Clearly realizing that the dialogue could not be continued in this form, you abruptly switched the subject, trying to tear his eyes from your neck.

 "I was changing for dinner anyway, so see you there" you sharply slammed the door in front of him, not wanting to go into details, and tiredly leaned your head against the wooden surface from the inside.

"Crazy" you heard quiet along with receding soft steps.

It was your only meaningful conversation with the singer, since that evening. You understood that it couldn’t go on like this for a long time, but at the moment you didn’t have any ideas how to fix the situation. So you just finally put on the look you chose, after checking that the door was locked, then decided to add a black headband, and being satisfied with your appearance, went downstairs.

After lunch, the whole team went to the stadium, where the technicians had already set up half of the equipment. The guys immediately went to the sound check, and you and Steven went to meet Ashton Gate management. It seemed like there was still plenty of time before the concert, and you thought you would have a few more chances to double-check everything, but in the turmoil that was going on behind the scenes, this turned out to be impossible.

To be honest, you were overwhelmed by what was happening. The soft music, people around, the sun rays moving towards the sunset - this whole scene that was unfolding before you as you unexpectedly stepped onto the empty stage a few minutes before the crowd was let into the stadium looked surreal and incredibly familiar, as if you had been here many times before. The noise and chaos behind you contrasted with the tranquility in front of your eyes. The empty space that was about to be filled with a crowd in just a few minutes brought both excitement and serenity. These were the moments that seemed unreal, but made life worth living.

***

The show was about to start, and you stood next to the dark staircase, where the guys from the dressing room were soon to come up. Leaning on the railing, you nervously twirled a lock of hair around your finger. You went through all the items on the checklist in your head, checking off each one mentally, but something still bothered you.

Alex.

Your unfinished conversations and evasive behavior were weighing on you. You felt guilty, knowing that as his manager, you had behaved tactlessly, driven by emotions. It ate at you from the inside. You decided that you would talk to him today, apologize and put this issue to rest once and for all.

Suddenly you noticed a flickering light from the security, which meant that the group is entering the stage, and you turned sharply, both wanting and fearing to see them. As always, looking luxurious, these four men made their way up to the platform, remaining unnoticed by the audience.

"Good luck, guys! I'm buzzing as hell honestly" you tried to sound confident, but your voice trembled on the last word.

"Miss Y/S, is it just me or are you worried about us?" Nick lightly touched your shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

"Well, it's my first time with you" realizing how ambiguous that sounded, you interrupted yourself with a laugh.

"Oh, you'll love it, babe" Matt mimicked a voice from a cheap adult movie, tossing a stick in the air. It seemed like he could find the right words in any situation, and in the future, you would highly appreciate this skill.

All this time, you were glancing at Alex out of the corner of your eye, trying to read his emotions, but he calmly adjusted the folds on his unchanging dark blue jacket and stretched his neck with turns left and right. Seeing that the guys had moved a little away from you, you looked at your watch, estimating that you had 5 minutes maximum, and whispered to yourself "now or never".

"Alex!" you called him out loudly, trying to outshout the crowd "I wanted to talk, I know it's not the most appropriate time, but-"

"Y/N, forgive me, okay," the man unexpectedly began, barely approaching you. For the first time, you saw genuine excitement in his eyes, here, in the darkness of the backstage area of a 30,000-seat stadium. For some reason, only now you clearly feel the difference in height between you two. He looked down at you patronizingly. Maybe it was because of his heels or the knot of nerves in your stomach that made you feel so small in your attempt to hide from his penetrating gaze.

"I've been a complete jerk and acted childish from the very beginning. You didn't do anything to deserve such treatment. I don't want our tension to affect the group and our work in any way, so I admit my guilt"

You stood in shock, slightly opening your mouth. You absolutely did not expect such a turn of events, so your entire improvised speech evaporated from your mind instantly. He suddenly smiled softly, raising an eyebrow, as if asking 'well, what now?' Still not believing what you heard, you nodded your head almost automatically.

"Y-yes, you were a jerk indeed. But I also didn't behave entirely correctly, my first impression wasn't great either," you sighed in frustration, recalling your memories, "I suggest we start over, huh? Hi, my name is Y/N, I'm your new tour manager, nice to meet you" and to confirm your words, you gracefully extended your hand to him.

"Nice to meet you too, I'm Alex Turner, sort of singing here," he shook your hand with an energetic movement. His palm was dry and steady, causing a pleasant warmth throughout your body, "just business then?"

"Just business indeed. And a little bit of music" you said, more relaxed, smiling with all 32 teeth, still holding onto his hand.

"Deal, Miss Y/S"

For a moment, the roar of fans faded away for you, and you only saw the outlines of his pupils in the semi-darkness and his fingers firmly holding yours. However, your fragile moment was promptly ruined by-

"Al, c'mon!" Jamie impatiently called, and your hand felt the gusts of wind instead of calloused skin of the frontman. You watched him walk away in his waddle manner, as he suddenly turned and shouted, winking "By the way, nice lace".

 It took you a couple of seconds to understand what was said, and when the meaning of his words reached you, you exclaimed in indignation "You, motherfucker!" almost stomping your foot, but your cry was lost in the wild roar of the crowd, as the guys were already on stage.

It was a miraculous sight. Four men made people go into ecstasy just with their appearance - this is the phenomenon of the Beatles, and they were proof that rock and roll is alive. As long as they are alive. Every strum on the guitar strings, every touch of the lips to the microphone, every drumstick strike, every hair flip was special in their performance, they themselves were special.

You were fascinated, to say the least. When the performance came to the last song before the encore, Body Paint, one of your favorite songs from the album, that was definitely made to be played live, you were out of words. The whole song built you up to the climax, to the outro that every time was a pure jamming and improvisation. And you literally exploded in ecstasy when Alex started walking around the stage, unable to stand still from the knocking down energy. He closed his eyes in languor, biting his lips, screaming, throwing out his arms, and you couldn't take your eyes off. You weren't dancing or jumping, you were inseparably watching his every movement, arms folded across your chest. Your mouth was agape against your will, and your eyes eagerly punched a hole in the frontman. This is a unique performance, it's something that is hard to explain without feeling it for yourself. You were made up of his music, you literally felt these waves inside your veins, your brain wasn't able to comprehend what was happening, it was like a catharsis for all of you. And you definitely didn't want to be saved.

Suddenly Alex turned his head to your side, continuing to play some divine riff outlining the Van Gogh fields on the guitar strings. His hair was tousled, shirt unbuttoned, but his jacket fitted perfectly. He rested his eyes on your figure, smiling with one corner of his lips, and you looked at each other for good seven seconds which felt like eternity. You were sure that everything was clear in your eyes, and even if he stood next to you and heard you, you wouldn't be able to utter a word.

What you definitely didn't expect when your eye contact was broken and Alex walked to another side of the stage, that tears would involuntarily flow from your eyes. "What the hell..." you wondered aloud, quickly removing the salty tracks from your cheeks. In fact, you perfectly understood why you were crying. From a sense of greatness. The greatness of music, human synergy and the power of unity. It was too much for you, too strong emotions to bear. It was excellent, it was the taste of life, thanks to which you still were here. "God, if you exist, bless this band, they are saints" although it sounded ridiculous and naive, you seriously were ready to pray for the talent of these guys, for the ability to make other people feel alive. You were in your place, you did everything right, you were cruising the victory. Today he convinced you.

As soon as the last chords of "RU Mine?" were played and the bows to the fans were taken, the men disappeared from the deafening roar behind the dark curtains of backstage. Their hair stuck to their sweat faces, and a distinct masculine smell was coming from their shirts. The guys passed by you with exhausted smiles, unable to utter a word from fatigue, and disappeared into the darkness of the corridors.

You didn't know what to do right now. According to your understanding, your job didn't end with pre-concert organization, there were also post-concert tasks to be done. But you were so lost in emotions that you felt like you were drifting away from an anaphylactic shock.

Unexpectedly, Tyler came to you as he was the last one to come off the stage. He fraternally put a hand on your shoulder, tousling your hair with his heavy palm.

"Well, with the initiation into our hell, sweetheart. How're you?"

"Thrilled, and I want more!" you declared confidently, matching his quick pace that was pulling you further away from the frenzy of the crowd.

"Well, don't doubt that, it's just the beginning" he charmingly smiled, and you couldn't help but mirror his expression.

"Now we're going to celebrate, and you're coming with us" it sounded so authoritative that even if you wanted to object, you immediately closed your mouth, nodding in agreement. "Besides, seems like you need to unwind" you remembered.

You left the stadium only an hour later, apparently, it was a normal time for the guys to "recover". You'd made several jokes about one woman waiting for seven men and received offended and teasing looks in return. You got into the same Mercedes you arrived in that morning, and the driver took you to one of Bristol's typical English pubs that the guys loved so much.

You didn't understand their fondness for these quaint places where the sofa upholstery hadn't changed along with the owner. There were so many modern bars in the city, any of which the band could afford to rent entirely, but they paid tribute to traditions, obviously cherishing memories of their lively youth when they started playing their first concerts in similar places. Such a return to their roots after the thousands-capacity stadiums grounded them well. And the warm nostalgia, slipping across the Guinness glasses every time, was a corner of genuine joy for the guys, the only true luxury they possessed.

And overall, you didn't care where to spend money or on what. After all today's events, which felt like a whole month, you didn't mind anymore. In the morning, you looked at your apple orchard in the early mist of suburban London, then stood half-naked in a five-star hotel room in front of a world-renowned music star, and now, in the evening, you huddled next to him on an old leather couch under a red velvet chandelier, drinking a B-52.

Glasses, shots and colorful bottles flashed in front of your eyes like a kaleidoscope. Your head was spinning from the amount of alcohol, and your cheeks hurt from laughter.

"My dear mates, I propose a toast to Miss Y/S and her first concert with us! I don't know if she understands where she has ended up, but we'll make sure she has a great time with us, right, guys? To Y/N!" Matt solemnly proclaimed, rising from the table, and 8 hands, pouring drinks onto each other, reached towards the center of the table to clink glasses.

"Guys, thank you for this opportunity, thanks to James for his unplanned vacation, thanks to Steven and Marcus-" although the latter wasn't here, you decided to thank him as he had been providing you with all kinds of help during these weeks, "for their support and adaptation, and of course, to you Monkeys, for accepting me. I do like your crazy Monkey house" you joked, but it didn't negate the truth. Despite all the past disagreements with the lead singer, you felt that you were still doing everything right. And even if you hadn't gone on this adventure today, you would still feel grateful to fate for such an opportunity to be at the center of life.

"Glad to hear that," Jamie chuckled ironically, "as they say, welcome aboard"

And with these words, you all whistled, and Tom even shouted like a saloon girl from the Wild West. Your evening, or rather the night, continued until 3 am, fortunately there was no concert the next day, so you could at least sleep in a bit. You looked in horror at the amount you had drunk, trying to estimate how long it would take to recover the contents of your wallet. But you had consumed so much gin and tonic that the only thing that really worried you was how to walk straight for at least 2 meters to the bar to pay for it all.

"Drinks on me!" you declared with a mischievous smile to the group as you headed towards the bar counter.

"What, for everyone?" Matt playfully refined.

"Well, yeah," you didn't have the energy to realize his surprise, but he also didn't have the energy to argue with you, "that's no problem".

And thus, the following events spun in your head like a foggy whirlpool. Here you were finally breathing in the fresh air of the street, tilting your head towards the purple sky, then you were half-lying on someone's shoulder in the black minivan, and finally for no reason you were walking barefoot on a soft hotel carpet, but there were no shoes in your hands as well.

You didn't have any memories of walking into your room either. But in the moment, the feeling of soft snow-white hotel sheets flooded your body with long-awaited bliss. You instantly fell into the arms of Morpheus, only on the verge of consciousness noticing that someone took off the headband from your hair, which had been squeezing your head tightly, and silently closed the door.

You may be too drunk to remember each of your actions clearly, but you definitely wouldn't mistake the familiar scent of cigarettes in the room.

---------------------------------------------------

A/N: Oh, so much has happened in one chapter, and this is just the beginning of the tour... I decided to tell the background of Y/N for a better understanding of her actions. What do you think, maybe you want more of "Italian friends" in the work? Whose line do you want to read in more detail? Share your emotions, it is incredibly valuable to me that someone reads this work actually!

xo🤍

Taglist: @missbabyjay @rentskenobi @findmeincorneliastreet @indierockgirrl here it is!

*if you want to be removed or added to the taglist, feel free to ask me!

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #am7 tour #the car era #am7 era #alex turner fanfic #matt helders #the car #alex turner fic #alex turner imagine #alex turner x you #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x reader #alex turner fanfiction #femme like you fanfic #nick o malley #jamie cook #maneskin #vic de angelis #damiano david

[1-800-simping]

your couple pics with måneskin

warnings: none! (let me know if i missed any)

victoria:

thomas:

damiano:

ethan:

a/n: none of these pics are mine! i found them off the internet so all creds go to the owners!!

#maneskin ffs #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfics #måneskin ffs #måneskin fanfics #måneskin fanfiction #måneskin x reader #måneskin #vic de angelis #vic de angelis x reader #victoria de angelis #victoria de angelis x reader #thomas raggi #thomas raggi x reader #damiano david #damiano david x reader #ethan torchio #ethan torchio x reader #couple pics

[wonderlandishell]

Windows down, scream along

Damiano David/Victoria De Angelis/Thomas Raggi/Ethan Torchio, Damiano David/Victoria De Angelis

Polyamory / Coming of Age / Friends with Benefits / Friends to Lovers

They grow up and grow into love.

Read on ao3

#maneskin #maneskin fanfiction #thomas raggi #victoria de angelis #damiano david #ethan torchio #vic de angelis #maneskin angst #maneskin fluff #maneskin fanfic #maneskin smut

[reputationdamiano]

dandelions

pairing: damiano david x reader

warning(s): one mention of blood in person's veins

word count: 631

summary: when you and damiano find a field of dandelions, your vacation in french countryside can’t get any better.

a/n: over a year ago, a certain person made a playlist for me, this song was in it. i still find it very beautiful and it inspired me to write a short fic. as you may see, i’m trying to improve my writing. i also want to thank @bidet-and-legolas for proofreading 🤍

dandelions. 

there were hundreds of thousands of them. sitting on the ground, surrounded by them, you felt like a plant from a different ecosystem which has been gradually putting down its roots. 

a light breeze seemed to be moving feather-like clouds high above the planet. the temperature was the optimum in which you felt most at peace with reality: high, but not a suffocating heat. 

while slowly approaching you, damiano took all of his steps like a spy. in his eyes, you were a masterpiece and he was admiring you.

your hair was falling down in cascades over a flaxen dress the color of freshly harvested peaches. you were holding one of the flowers in your hand with great caution, like it was the last one in the world and you could save the species from going extinct. 

“what are you thinking about, bella?” your boyfriend asked, and sat down on the grass. he began tracing the tattoo on your arm with his fingers, just like he did a week after you got it and finally took the protective film off it. damiano loved every inch of your skin and always let you know about it. 

“i’m wishing on those little things” 

this was true. when you encountered this field about ten minutes ago, during your bike excursion in the countryside, it instantly reminded you of an old superstition. 

“and what are you wishing for?” damiano enquired, resting his head on your shoulder and intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“don’t you know saying it out loud is against the rules of wishing?” you replied half-jokingly. 

“come on, won’t you tell me?” damiano tried to convince you, looking at you with puppy eyes. 

“alright” you blew the seeds of the dandelion and watched them make their way through the lukewarm air. you looked into his hazel eyes and cupped his cheeks delicately.

“i wished that you’ll be mine forever”

then you closed your eyes and pulled him even closer. that’s when your lips met his in a soft kiss that was becoming more and more passionate every second.

when it came to an end, damiano’s eyes light up like sparklers. 

“your wish is going to come true, i promise” he beamed and looked at you fondly. 

“but i need you to close your eyes right now” damiano added. 

“um.. okay?” you didn’t have the slightest idea what he was plotting this time but you followed his instructions. 

he must’ve gotten up from the ground because your shoulders brushed and the space next to you seemed empty. 

you could feel the blood in your veins flowing faster and faster.

“dami, where are you going?” you couldn’t help but ask. 

“please be patient” his voice could be heard a few meters away from your sitting spot.  although you were hyped up, you kept sitting still, seeing nothing but darkness in front of you.

“well, you can open your eyes now” 

you finally lifted your eyelids to a sight of damiano kneeling before you. he was holding a little blue box with a shiny ring in it. the loving look on his face already expressed what he was about to say.

“i finally gathered the courage to do this. will you marry me, y/n?” 

the last five words were the confirmation that your boyfriend and you shared the same wish. you were convinced that no one could tear two of you apart, ever. 

your eyes glazed over as you reached for his hand. 

“yes” you exclaimed. the next thing you knew, you had a diamond ring on your finger. damiano pulled you in and your lips started moving in perfect sync. in that moment, it was like you were the only people on earth. 

“sei l’amore della mia vita” damiano confessed.

“i’ll be yours forever” 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

taglist: @ethanesimp @bidet-and-legolas @mywritingonlyfans@kirstansworld @gretavanfleetlove @otaculo @bieberhoodforever @kyliesalvatore @dont-let-me-drown-in-you  @hopelessromantic727 @ilwiwbysmv  @lovelymaneskindays @grzybowysyn  @butkutee

masterlist

if you like my works, please reblog, comment or send me asks. ¡gracias!

#catalina writes #maneskin fanfiction #catalina’s imagines #damiano david x reader #damiano david fanfiction #damiano imagine #damiano david headcanon #damiano x you #damiano david fluff #maneskin imagine #maneskin fic #maneskin x y/n #maneskin x reader #maneskin fluff #maneskin fandom #måneskin #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic writer

[writingmaneskin]

Timezone - A Damiano David Story

Pairings: Damiano David x Reader

Description: An imaginary behind the scenes of how Damiano wrote Timezone.

Contains: angst and fluff (but mostly fluff), pining

Words: 1.2k

This was a request.

THE MAIN MASTERLIST

kofi || join the taglist || send a request || chaoticallie

taglist: @queendorkula @oro-e-diamanti @moonlight-simp @maneskings @iosonoarina @unaballerinascalza @hiraetheral, @homesicam, @ilwiwbysmv @bieberhoodforever @vita-thrasher @katyldamusic @ethaneskin @theimpossiblehologramtree @8iunie @dubist-immerinmeinengedanken @butkutee @sarcastic-sourwolf @dpaccione @elvirabelle @cuzimitaliano @daddydamiano @shehaddreamstoo @iamtashaquinn @alexxavicry @inloveppp @tnu-ree @bigsimpsimp @ccweasley @soficide

Damiano knew that his place wasn’t LA. There was nothing attractive about the people or the circumstances there - it would always be just work for him. Just work, meetings and parties that exposed people for who they weren’t. 

The band had to record the album which meant time away from home, time away from you.

You, who hadn’t chosen this busy glitz and glam life. You, who had chosen him despite all of it.

He picked up the phone, not paying attention at all to what time it would be at home.

“Hey you.” Your voice carried the sleepiness that always melted him.

“Cazzo, I woke you up, didn’t I?”

“Sleep is overrated anyway, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“I’m homesick. I miss you.”

“I miss you too, tesoro.” 

“Will you stay with me for a little bit?” He pleaded.

“As long as you need me to.” You propped the phone against the pillow on his side of the bed and watched him as he opened the notebook again.

“How is writing coming along?”

“It’s hard. We wrote some songs about the foolishness going on here but there are missing pieces that I can’t quite figure out.”

“What do the others think?”

“We’re all restless and I’ve acquired a few nicknames in the process, but I don’t care about it. I just.. I want to finish this project so we can start putting it together because we don’t need to be here to do that.”

“The sooner you finish it, the sooner you can come home, yes?”

“I would come home right now if I could.” 

“I know, tesoro. I miss you so much.”

You tried to hide the tears that came to your eyes.

“I will be there before you know it.” He promised.

“I know. I am counting on it.”

“I know. Try to go back to sleep.”

“Stay with me, please?” It was your turn to plead. 

“I will. I will work quietly while you sleep.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

**

You fell asleep, the comfort of his presence despite the distance was tangible.

“What are you doing?” Thomas asked, coming outside for a smoke while Damiano alternated between glancing at the phone and scribbling fragments of lyrics in the notebook.

Damiano shushed him and pointed at the phone.

“Sorry.” Thomas raised his arms.

“I’m writing.” Damiano whispered. 

“Do you need anything?”

“Yes. But we’ll talk about it later.”

“Okay, you know what to do.” Thomas winked at him and distanced himself, giving the two of you space.

**

You woke up and saw that the call had ended. 

“Buongiorno, thank you for keeping me company. When can we talk again?” You wrote to Damiano.

“Buongiorno amore. Did you sleep well?”

“I did. It could only have been better if you were physically here.”

“We’ll make up for lost times, I promise. I have a busy evening and we’ll likely work well into the night here so I’ll text you when I can, okay? Keep me updated. I love you so much.”

“I love you too and don’t work yourself into the ground. I need you alive and well with me.”

“I promise.”

**

You didn’t think much of it - he was there on a work trip after all, it was understandable that he couldn’t be on the phone all the time, so you went about your day - going to work, meeting up with a friend for a coffee after work, buying some groceries on the way home.

You unlocked the apartment and went in, only to find a second pair of shoes - shoes you knew very well, next to the door, in their usual place.

Your heart started racing.

“You’re back!” Damiano exclaimed, sweeping you off your feet and pressing you close to himself.

The tears started flowing and you held him tightly, not quite believing that he was in fact there.

“You’re here?” You kept running your fingers through his hair. He held you up for a little while before pulling away slightly only to give you a kiss.

“I snuck away under the excuse that I need some sleep.” He gently wiped your face and kissed you again and again.

“When do you have to go back?” You already dreaded having to let him go.

“Very soon but I needed this. I needed you. I need you.” He kissed you again.

“I need you too.” 

His phone wouldn’t stop ringing no matter how much he tried to ignore it. It was alternating between calls and texts and other notifications coming in and in that moment, he wanted to throw it out.

“You can’t ice them out. Especially since you didn’t tell them that you’d be leaving. They could think that you’ve been kidnapped.”

“They will burst our bubble.”

“No, they will not. You know you have to go back, just don’t stress out our friends unnecessarily. Please.”

He picked up the phone on what looked like Ethan’s fiftieth call.

“Dam? Where are you? Are you okay? Do you want us to pick you up? Did something happen?” 

“Hi. I am fine, I snuck away and came home. I’m sorry for vanishing and ghosting and just… keeping you all out of the loop but I needed to come home.”

A moment of silence.

“Is Y/N okay?”

“Y/N is good. I just needed to come home and feel like I am home even if it’s for a few moments. I’ll be back as soon as possible, I promise and I’ll make it up to you guys for stressing you out, I just needed this.”

“You have nothing to make up for. Just don’t run away next time and give us a heads up.” Vic shouted from the side.

“You could make it up to us with some pasta.” Thomas added, trying to lighten the situation.

“We’ll cover for you for as long as we can, do what needs to be done and we’ll see you soon.” Ethan added before hanging up.

**

Each step leading him away from you felt heavier and heavier. But he had to do this - he had to go back and finish this album so the next time he would be back he would be able to stay for longer.

You walked with him in the airport for as long as you could, trying not to cry the whole time, knowing that the tears would make it even harder for him to leave.

“It’s not worth it.” He spoke quietly, making sure that only you would hear.

“It is. It’s your dream and that makes it worth it.”

“Dreams are just that. You are real.”

“I miss you and I will miss you again and this distance is horrible and I hate it when we are not together but I will not trade for anything in the world the spark in your eyes or the joy that I see when you are doing what you love most and sharing your art with the world. And there is a lot you have not yet shared with the world, Damiano David.”

You carefully wiped the tears that came to his eyes and kissed him again.

“Be safe for me and take good care of yourself. We’ll be back together before you know it.” You kissed him very gently.

“I love you.” He kissed you again and again before going to the security line.

Less than a week later, right as you were going to bed a text came from him, with an audio file and the words - for you, tesoro.

Only thing that keeps us apart Is a different timezone

#maneskin #damiano david #damiano david x reader #damiano david x you #damiano david fanfic #damiano david x yn #damiano david blurb

[filthforfriends]

Chapter 6: Guardian Angel

Alpha!Damiano x Omega!fem y/n

Word Count: 6.9k

The prospect of waiting another six days to be alone together sounded fucking ludicris. When Monday sucked, you knew that this shit mood would hang out all week without the proper satiation. Mostly you just felt under the weather, but burst out into tears at the smallest inconvenience on three separate occasions. You knew the mood swings were due to hormonal fluctuation as your biology became more in tune with your alpha. Damiano wanted to wait to knot, to mate, so you would wait until he was ready. There wasn’t even an alternative in your mind. He needed you to wait, so you’d wait. Meanwhile, your body was screaming what the fuck are you doing at full volume.

It was’t just on the brink of orgasam that you craved a knot. It was whenever you masturabated. Saturday night, you desperately tried to relieve the gnawing lust that burned in your cunt. By Monday, you thought about a knot whenever you thought about getting off. This morphed into the fixation on the idea that you shouldn’t shake. The idea of Damiano pining you to the mattress and snapping his hips to meet yours was so distracting that you walked into a door frame. You didn’t want a choice or for him to ask. Rather, Damiano would grip you tight enough to bruise and take, take, take until you couldn’t stand. Instead of stopping he’d just find a flat surface to rest you on and treat you like a cum depository. You’d be forced to contain it all by a knot so big it created an inescapable ache. Crying, screaming, scratching, he’d half to pause because the pleas for him to continue were nearly identical to the cries that might beg him to stop.

Needless to say, you locked your door when you arrived home and spent an hour searching for some other side of this feeling. There was no satiation to be found. Your hands couldn’t simulate the knot your cunt begged for, a knot that you weren’t getting any time soon. However, your fucking immune system recognized Damiano’s pheramones and made you crave him subconsciously. Your body had chosen Dami’s, and his yours, in a way that had nothing to do with conscious attraction.

One sexual fixation abated, only for another one to take its place. Early Wednesday morning, before dawn, you woke from a dream the color of Dami’s olive skin where warm sheets slipped between your bodies and through your hands. It was both abstract and deeply personal and found yourself thinking about the scent of Damiano’s cum. You didn’t like the scent of cum, you were ambivalent towards it. However, you began obsessing about it with such intensity that your reproductive organs ached from emptiness. 

You couldn’t remember another time when you fantasized about cum or a knot, or these specific aspects of mating. A primal part of you was wide awake and fighting for control. All it had taken was falling asleep on Damiano’s chest for your entire sexuality to shift. 

The David’s were protective of your rest. Especially Dami, who decided to let you nap and waited to eat lunch.

“Well, it’d be cruel to wake her up now,” Isabella sighs. “Her body can calm down from a state of hypervigilance because you’re here. She knows she’s protected so she can actually get deep sleep.” They’d decided to use a sleep tracker and wake you up after one cycle when it’d be the least abrasive. It was horrifying to know that so much attention had been allotted to this, but that hour and a half on Dami’s bare chest was more rejuvenating than a night by yourself. It also felt more intimate than sexual encounters you’d had with other partners.

You woke to Damiano forcefully rubbing your back and saying your name. His hand was under your tank top, against your skin. It was confusing because you hadn’t realized you’d fallen asleep. Of course he soothed by stroking your hair and cooing in your ear softly.

“Hey baby, you took a nap while I watched T.V. It’s okay.” Even though you’d startled initially, it was the nicest wakeup in recent memory. The waking up part wasn’t that hard. What was difficult was disentangling yourself from Damiano and being greeted with cold air. It felt like peeling your first layer of skin off. Immediately all you wanted to do was duck back under his sweatshirt and snuggle, face next to his scent glands. Everything felt too harsh: the lights, sound, necessity of fine motor skills. Dami was also visibly upset by the separation, but for you it was a moment of agony. 

“You know it costs zero ration points to not be a bitch.” That's what Cleo said to you while you fought over the diner dishes on Wednesday evening. It wasn’t an entirely unfair assessment either. You’d rather curl up in bed then try to function without Damiano. It felt like life was moving at a slightly faster speed than you were. All the lessons were paced quicker than you could comprehend. Your note taking was a little too slow. You spend 20 minutes on a single question, reading it over and over, but unable to come up with an answer. Your physics teacher looked genuinely concerned and offered you a chance to retake it next week. 

Instead of ranting to Xiema and Gia during break, you lay your head on your crossed arms, not even bothering to get lunch. Four days of this hell was unsustainable. The only choice was to disengage temporarily. The line, the food, the tedium of eating was too overwhelming. So you just closed your eyes, not even raising your head when they sat beside you.

“Are you alive?”

“Unfortunately.” Gia and Xiema seem to get up earlier than usual. Then again, your sense of time leaves something to be desired at the moment. The alert for your next lesson hasn’t sounded, so you decide to just look like a creepy lonier sleeping at lunch. However, by the time they’re a few paces away, someone else sits beside you. Damiano.

 You look down and see his black pants straddling the bench. Then you start to think about something else in that vicinity and press your eyes closed. It's too late, the idea had already taken root. You could drag him into a bathroom and fall to your knees. Dami hadn’t had a proper blow job in months so he’d probably be really vocal, yanking you around by your hair while you drooled on the tiled floor.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks softly. Yes is dishonest. No makes for questions you can’t stand to answer. Please fuck me isn’t situationally apropriate. So you settle for a shrug, and a groan. Damiano’s hand traces its way up the back of your neck and onto your scalp. It's heavenly. Fucking fuck. His over hand comes to rest on your inner thigh. For a moment your brain short circuits and your head slips off your arms and audibly hits the table. 

“Woah, hey.” He shifts to rubbing up and down your back, scooting close enough he’s pressed against your elbow. It's so sweet it aches.

“Ow,” you squeak. Damiano still checked on you regularly. Instead of assuming you stayed up too late watching T.V. last night, he was skipping class to stroke your hair and make sure you were okay. You wanted to cry and not just because you slammed your forehead on a wooden table.

“Will you look at me?” He tries to coax you into lifting your head, but you’re still trying to wrangle the tears. From the time you woke up you’d felt fragile today, rubbed raw.

“Mm mm. I’m not this omega,” you sniff, trying to make your voice steady.

“This is my fault.”

“You’re doing your best. I’ll survive.” More careful hands trying to comfort you. 

“Have you eaten lunch?” You shake your head and he sighs, rubbing between your shoulder blades.

“You can go back to class Dami. I’ll call you tonight” He pets your head and kisses it, resting his chin on your shoulder. He’s stalling.

“Convince me that just leaving you here is the right thing.” You try to come up with an honest answer that isn’t I’m fine because he’ll call bullshit in a second.

“If something was really wrong I’d tell you. This is just making people stare at me unnecessarily.” He lets out a long sigh, kisses your head, and stands up.

“Call me after school, or I will.” As soon as Damiano walks off you wish that he’d insisted you needed to leave and skipped class to spend the day with you. Of course this wasn’t feasible, but it was a nice fantasy.

You got home from and ended up standing in your bedroom, in a state of half dissociation. It’s lonely and you wish he was here to hold you. The room is so silent that your phone’s ringer makes you jump. 

“Why didn’t you call me, baby?” 

“I – I just…I don’t know.” It's an honest answer and you’re holding back tears because crying will just make your heart hurt worse.

“Meet me at the amphitheater after practice tomorrow. You can have dinner with my family and stay the night. Use me as a pillow.” This sounded like a tremendous idea, which is how you found yourself walking down the main hall in the underbelly of the sporting amphitheater. Romero Soccor’s coach looked at you wearily as you walked by. He was having a hushed conversation on the phone, which you immediately gathered was serious.

“Due to issues of personal conduct we have decided Julio will no longer be a remember of Romero’s soccer team.” Immediately you winced. A couple younger alphas losing their tempers and tearing into each other was a regular occurrence. They accepted it as a part of life, but to betas and omegas it was gory. Damiano would have an interesting story tonight. After pushing past the doors, you scanned the field for him. Aside from one assistant coach standing awkwardly in the entryway to the locker room, everyone was on the other side of the turf. 

You make your way over then realize you might be intruding on something that isn’t your business. Maybe you should wait by Damiano’s car and text him. Deciding that seems like the thing to do, you turn around and walk back. 

“Dam’s girlfriend!” someone announces. You turn around to see possibly the youngest team member pointing at you. You’re about to ask what barn he was raised in, but Star beats you to it, smacking him upside the head. A couple more people turn around and which reveals what's inside the circle. The person you assume to be Julio or his assailant is crouched on the ground with blood profusely flowing from his nose. 

Star beckons you over with a nervous expression and you search for Damiano. As you walk toward him, he jogs over to you. Out of some morbid fascination you can’t take your eyes off of the wounded player. The bridge of his nose is curved harshly to the right.

“Is that broken?” you whisper. 

“Uh, probably,” Star huffs, shifting around with nervous energy.

“I guess Dami is getting ice somewhere, then. Should I go wait by the car? I don’t want to intrude.” Star is breathless and it can’t just be from that short jog over here. Maybe it's anxiety, maybe he broke up the fight. Which probably means your boyfriend did as well.

“No, no, it's good you're here. So, uh – shit, okay um…”

“Just fuckin’ tell her,” someone goads and suddenly you feel very observed. Star winces and Lars jogs up behind him.

“What the hell is going on? Where’s Dami?” Your chest tightens suddenly with the instinctual sensation that something is not as it should be. Despite scouring the field all around you, the only players are gathered here, and Damiano isn’t one of them.

“This kid threw a shit fit over some call coach made. It’s just how we get sometimes. Dam tried to help him calm down, but the little asshole shoved him to the ground and ran away. Dam was just trying to help, put his hand on the kid's shoulder to make sure he was okay and got punched,” Lars explains. So your boyfriend was somewhere, injured.

“Where is he? What the fucked happened?” you demand.

“Damiano David happened,” calls out the same voice that had heckled earlier. So your boyfriend had punched Julio because he’d been attacked. You try to process this information without staring at Julio’s crooked nose.

“Why don’t you shut the fuck up, Nikolai?” responds Star.

“Hey!” warns an assistant coach, sitting on the grass beside the injured player.

“It’s not like we haven’t heard the stories. My mom doesn’t think he should be allowed on the team at all.” Although you desperately wanted to know what this dickwad was referencing, you couldn’t listen to him talk this way about Damiano.

“Yeah, well opinions are like assholes, everyones got one.” The half second of total silence was deeply gratifying. Nikolai had never had an omega speak to him like that.

“Where is Damiano?” you repeat. Lars points to the furthest door in the amphitheater. You march past the team, only to hear Nickolai pipe up again.

“This is what happens when you don’t breed your bitch –”

“Nikolai, I will put you on probation,” warns the assistant coach. 

“And this is what happens when some mediocre alpha thinks the world revolves around him,” you bite back. Apparently your self preservation instincts have taken a vacation.

“It's a shame we’re not allowed to use corporal –” 

“You can’t just say that about Dam’s omega,” someone hisses.

“Nikolai, off the field!” You’re so angry that you can’t think of a response harsh enough so you turn around and spit on his cleats. Half the team makes encouraging sounds, but you barely register it as you run across the field. Alphas advocating for corporal punishment to dicipline omegas was something you’d endured as long as you could perceive it. If it wasn’t so unoriginal it might affect you.

Upon reaching the far door, you look inside and realize it's not made for inhabitants.  The space is unfurnished, all cement walls and harsh fluorescent lighting. It’s used for storage, which means there's no signage. The smell of all the equipment is making it hard to locate your boyfriend. 

“Dami? Baby?” When he doesn’t answer, you have to take a deep breath and imagine his predicament. Where would you go if you were injured and persecuted by assholes on your team? Probably not out in the open, so you begin ducking inside rooms. The first open door with some space behind it houses hundreds of pounds of salt for the slow plow. Had the place not been so echoey, you might have missed Damiano curled up between stacks of bags.

“Not now,” he croaks. He can’t smell anything with a bloody nose, doesn’t know it's you. So you try not to startle him, approaching slowly.

“Baby, it’s, y/n. Dami, it’s me.” When Damiano looks up, you startle, and you actually watch that break his heart in real time. It’s not that he’s in headspace, which you weren’t expecting, it's that the bottom half of his face is covered in blood. The stuff is even in his hair.

“You’re gonna be okay now. I’m here.” Truthfully, you didn’t know if you could make whatever this was better, but you knew that Damiano needed to hear it, to see a light at the end of the tunnel. You drop your bag beside him and smooth his hair back. The blood hasn’t begun to dry yet which means the whole debacle must have been very recent. It also must have been what triggered his alpha headspace. Using a hair tie, you secure the tangled strands out of his face, then dig through your bag.

You had a water bottle and a container of juice Gia had asked you to hold and forgotten about. Calories would be a good idea.

“Damiano, drink this. Let’s get you some glucose.” He stays with his head to his knees, arms around his shins. “I spit on Nikolai’s shoes like two minutes ago.” This makes him look up and this time you’re ready. “I don’t think you realize how much blood is on your face right now, that's what spooked me.” Damiano nods, and starts tugging at you, with his lips pouted, never meeting your eyes. He grabs your arms, waist, until you swing a leg over to straddle and find yourself squashed. Dami pulls you against his chest and wraps you in his arms, even bends his knees to keep you close.

You never thought you could feel suffocated by Dami, that there would ever be too close. But this, this was too close. In the moment, Damiano’s world had shrunken so small that you were his only comfort in it. He needed you so desperately that you had to regulate your own emotions not to get overwhelmed.

“I don’t know what's going through your head, but this does not negatively affect our relationship. We are fine. You’re going to be fine. We’re gonna go home, cuddle in the same sweatshirt, and watch a funny movie. You’re going to get a good sleep and tomorrow this will be a sucky memory.” Damiano takes a couple shaky deep breaths and loosens his grip from absolute terror survival mode. You lean over and pull the juice out of your bag, handing it to him. While Damiano downs it you rummage around in the bottom of the backpack for some spare towelette packets and rip one of those open. The packaging is crumpled and dirty but the seal hasn’t been broken so they’re usable.

It's challenging to figure out where the blood is coming from, mouth or nose, until you realize it's coming from both. Which would mean he was punched multiple times. 

“That was self-defense, Damiano.”

“I don’t get to practice self defense unless my life is in danger.”

“What the fuck!? Says whom?” You decide to try the tampon trick, since the blood flow has lessened from everywhere except his right nostril.

“I’m too strong. Did you see what I did to that kid? I broke his nose without trying!”  That explains why he’s so upset. He really injured someone and despite his biology, Dami didn’t enjoy violence. He’s choking up again. You hope the hilarity of having a tampon shoved in his nostril would help, but it doesn’t. What's worrying you more than his injuries is how long he’s been in headspace. Damiano allowed himself to shift in and out when you were alone together, but it never occurred to you that he’d, at himes, have no control. He could get stuck. 

There was no threat here, just his girlfriend sitting on his lap. He shouldn’t be in alpha mode. There was nothing to fight, no where to direct that primal energy. You grab the water and watch his face as he drinks. He’d stopped crying, which was good, but he was still periodically tenseing. Not tensing, wincing, like he was in pain.

“Baby, where else is hurt? Is it the way I’m sitting?” You start shifting around, but Damiano stills you. He scrunches his eyes closed and takes a deep breath. You try to breathe with him, but he falls out of sync.

“Are you hurt?” He nods before speaking, a single tear falling down his face. 

“Being like this, your blood pressure goes up. So my head is fucking killing me,” he whimpers. Damiano must have an excruciating, pounding headache right now. You didn’t have the type of medication needed to treat this, but after your rogue reaction to your HSIUD, you had learned about pressure points. Thalia had a previous special interest in holistic medicine and rattled off facts until you (lovingly) told her to shut up.

So you found his temples with your index fingers, and massage in slow circles. Dami’s skin is slick with beads of sweat. Perspiration not from athleticism, but from pain. The cuts on his nose and upper lip were the most superficial of his injuries. Damiano’s hands released and came to rest on the floor. His head lulled forward, resting against your own and only then did you realize how much blood was going to be on your clothes. That didn’t matter. Damiano was finally able to relax his muscles under your careful touch. You switched to gripping the hollows at the base of his skull between your forefinger and thumb. Damiano lets out a moan, and you know its not at all sexual, just from pain releif. Yet, the sound still throbs between your legs.

“This helping?”

“Mhm, hmm,” he confirms, head sliding onto your shoulder. In order to stop the both of you from tipping over, you guide Damiano upright, chin supported in one hand. The pressure point right above his tear ducts makes him wince. It’s the best one for this, but a little pain predates the relief. The sensation is invasive.

“Breath through it,” you coach, and can feel him relax under your fingers. His tendons and veins are no longer straining. Giving Damiano a break, you massage a straight line from between his eyebrows, up his forehead. On the way back down you notice his canines are no longer resting on his plush lip. That's good, because you’re out of ideas. Dami opens his eyes slowly then blinks hard, like the light is too bright. That beautiful hazel is back.

“No more Vampiriano,” you chirp, as if this was an easy fix. Someone blows a whistle outside and it reminds you that you’re in public. Both friends and assholes are ever so aware of your absences and no doubt gossiping. There was also the greater issue of getting Damiano home or to the doctor’s.

“Okay baby, do you think you can stand up?” He shakes his head. “Okay, well um…okay.” You stroke his undercut, the short hair making it easier to feel your touch. Damiano couldn’t drive, you didn’t have a license, so how are you going to shuttle him from one place to the other? Star and Lars were sympathetic and they probably had licenses. You start searching your pockets for your phone.

“Do you have Star’s number memorized?”

“Stop talking about that,” Damiano groans in excuiation. Pain, desperation, overwhelm. It’s a reality check that Damiano’s stress tolerance is at absolute zero. He bends over clutching his face, but you can see the tendons quiver in his forearms. Were the boundaries of the change really so feeble that he could slip back? Having your body force you into hypervigilance sounded not entirely dissimilar from a panic attack. 

A moment ago your touch had solved it, so you returned to the pressure points. He lets out a cry of frustration, and there's nothing calibrated about it. It might be the most honest sound you’ve heard from him, stuck in a moment of anguish. Unable to bear his pain, you scent him as a last ditch effort. It's hard to pull it forth unprompted, you don’t have a lot of practice. Still, you try to drown out Damiano’s sensory input with your pheromones. The intensity of his discomfort only lasts a couple seconds more, then Damiano takes a tear soaked gasping breath and relaxes against you. Operating on autopilot, you wrack your brain for stories about alpha’s experiencing headspace this way, and come up empty.

While you think, you pull up his jersey and begin stroking his back. If you were alone, you’d probably strip naked and get in bed. Not to have sex, but to hold him. Let your body tell his body that everything is okay, that there aren’t any threats to face. You needed a steady plan: adults, not teenagers. Speaking of, weren’t the staff supposed to manage players' injuries? Coach had been talking to Julio’s parents when you walked in which means he’d called Damiano’s parents right before or right after. They might be panicked and have no idea where you were.

“Damiano I’m gonna make sure a non-high schooler knows where we are, okay? I’ll be right back.” Dami is grabbing you in that panicky way again.  

“No! ‘Cause I might – I don’t want…” to lose control without you here. Damiano stops before saying the words, but you can infer from the way he’s avoiding your eyes. He’d allowed himself to need you, just a little bit. A person doesn’t cultivate themselves so completely unless there's something they’re trying to cover up, over power. Suddenly, you’re very aware that this is exactly what he hid under that sheek exterior. 

“What helps right now?” you whisper, stroking his head.

“I just – I just need a sec.”

“Do you want me to scent you again?” He takes a deep breath, and you can feel his ribcage shutter on the exhale. At the same time you also hear the echo of footsteps.

“Are those cleats?” you whisper.

“Damiano!? Damiano!?” The shrill sound of maternal panic is recognizable anywhere. It even makes a bystander’s hair raise.

“Take a left at the salt,” you call. Straddling Dami is not how you want his parents to find you, but he was so fragile that your social preferences didn’t matter. You pull his jersey back down and softly kiss his forehead, then stuff anything bloody under your bag. Your back is mostly to the entryway, but Dami must see them around the corner. He ducks his head against your neck, unable to face an audience. Very purposefully, you put on a calm, assured face with a closed lipped smile, hugging him casually.

Isabella, Matteo, and the coach rush into the room. It's better that Damiano doesn’t see his mother's expression. Matteo is holding a black, water proof case. He drops to the hard floor and opens it up to reveal the most elaborate first aid kit you’ve seen in your life. It's not just band-aids. There’s supplies to care for wounds, to stop major bleeding, even an ice chest for preserving fingers so they could be reattached. Isabella and Matteo worked in food engineering. They weren’t physicians or soldiers or harm reductionists or anything that would require this kit. 

Wide eyed, you watched Matteo open a pouch at the edge of the bag full of prescription bottles. He twisted the cap off of one, then another, then another while Isabella wrenched open a water bottle.  

“Damiano sit up,” she said, voice totally clinical. Her son might as well have been a stranger. It struck you as a bit harsh considering everything he’d gone through. Sure, she was the alpha of the pair, but shouldn’t that establish empathy? You felt movement under your hand and realized you’d been clutching the back of Dami’s head where he pressed his face against your neck in hiding. As he sat up, that same hand slipped to his jaw, always keeping contact and reassurance. For a moment, his parents froze. Your head immediately turned to see if anything had changed, but Damiano looked the same.

“He’s…he’s okay now.” You felt the need to defend Damiano. Maybe they’re staring because he has tampon sticking out of his nose

“This is just because I don’t have a first aid kit,” you explain, pointing at it.

“Inventive as always,” Isabella compliments, giving you a soft smile while handing Dami water. It seems odd, her warmth towards you, but not her injured child. Matteo dropped two red pills back into the bottle, but still placed three in Dami's hand. Two were round, one blue and the other white. There was also an oblong capsule that looked like Cleo’s morning vitamin. Damiano threw them all back at once and winced. You could feel his swallow hard which brought your awareness back to the fact you were sitting on his lap.

“I – I should um…” Awkwardly, you shift around, unwrapping your legs from Damiano’s waist. His free hand clutches your thigh. I should stay right here. 

“Sokoro, thank you for your discretion and understanding.” Matteo nods at Romero’s coach. 

“Julio, has been removed from the team and of course there'll still have to be a review, but I’ll make sure Damiano isn’t penalized for defending himself,” he announces.

“Thank you so much,” Dami finally speaks, voice broken.

“Of course, it's only fair,” the coah assures, taking his leave from the tense situation.

“But really, thank you, Coach Koro.” The amount of emotion in Dami’s eyes was so moving it made you tear up, so you could only imagine the effect on the person it was directed to. Seeing any alpha, especially one held in such high regard, humble himself was powerful. 

“And uh, y/n,” he clears his throat  self-consciously, hovering on the edge of the doorway. “You’ll be happy to know that Nikolai has been put on probation, so he won’t be at the next game.” You’d completely forgotten about that shit stain, but were filled with so much pride by the way your boyfriend had conducted himself. From being in too much pain to think, to then be communicative in just a few minutes was incredible.

“You did so good!” Daminao was bashful as you squeezed his arms in excitement, but his expression was conflicted.

“What did Nikoilai say to you?” Both his parents tensed and you knew better than to undo all of Dami’s progress.

 “He complimented my dress. His favorite flowers are sunflowers and I think he’d be hurt that you didn’t know that.” Dami rolled his eyes, but dropped it.

“You were lucky. Maybe we can let her go now, hm?” At first you don’t realize Isabella was talking about your position on Damiano’s lap. Immediately you’re embarrassed.

“Oh sorry, sorry,” you grimace, disentangling yourself from Damiano. “I was just um…sorry.” Panic sparks in his eyes so you lace your fingers together and sit so close you might as well be on his lap still. “I won’t leave until you tell me to go,” you whisper in his ear. Damiano squeezes your hand in response, shaking from adrenaline. 

“That could have gone a lot worse. Do you have any other injuries? How are your knuckles?” 

“No, I’m fine.” Matteo starts cleaning him up properly. 

“You got it under control by yourself this time, that was good.” His father is cautiously encouraging. “Scenting helped, I take it?” You stare at the floor, blushing so hard you could hear your heart rushing in your ears. Of course his parents could smell that you’d scented him. The fact that it would be perceptible to others hadn’t occurred to you in the moment.

“Y/n, cleaning the blood off, calming him down, you probably saved his place on the team,” Isabella says, emphatically. You scoff without thinking.

“Coach Sokoro obviously loves him!”

“That's because when he came in here, he saw Damiano. If he’d walked into something else…” She trails off, helping Matteo secure a butterfly bandage over Damiano’s split lip then dabbing on anti-edema gel. “Appearances are everything. Damiano being calm and collected, cuddling his doting girlfriend, no bloodied tissues on the floor. It really mattered that he saw that.” You don’t realize she’s complimenting you until you meet her eyes. For a moment, it's like looking into Isabella’s soul. She’s had to fight battles for Damiano that you would never understand. That's why she’s hardened.

“It must have been intimidating,” Matteo prompts. 

“What, coach Sokoro? No way,” you brush off, smiling because you’re happy to give an easy answer.

“No, coming in here. I’d have been frightened.” Looking around it does start to feel like a concrete coffin.

“I guess it's kinda creepy, but I wasn’t really thinking about it.” You’d been too focused on Damiano to notice those details. Matteo opens his mouth to speak then closes it and sighs. You were missing something.

“Seeing Damiano must have been…startling.” Isabella looks at you meainfully. Admittedly seeing Dami’s teeth covered in blood like the reenactment of one of Thalia’s TB documentaries was gross.

“Honestly, I’ve never seen that much blood in person. We don’t have an alpha at my house, but I’m sure it’s normal with two alpha sons.” Matteo stops packing up the kit and tilts his head, literally looking at you sideways. “I mean not ‘normal!’ Obviously it’s not normal, I just meant that uh, like more common. It could be a more common thing,” you try. Damiano squeezes your hand so you turn to him.

“They mean did I scare you.” His soulful hazel eyes are so beautiful. Touches of green and gold shone even in the harsh, synthetic light. People probably thought he had black eye lashes, but actually they were really dark brown, like the roots of his hair where the sun hadn’t lightened. He squeezes your hand again, reminding you that an answer was expected. 

“Why would I be scared of you?” you reply, dumbly. Damiano’s face lights up with so much affection. He smiles for the first time and if you don’t look hard, his teeth don’t appear to be stained with blood. The hand not clasped in yours caresses your knee. It was too easy to forget you weren’t the only people in the room, or universe.

“I told you she wasn’t scared of me,” he turns to his parents, saying the words with so much pride. Isabella purses her lips, like she had a lot of opinions to hold back.

“Oh you mean Vampiriano!” It finally clicks and you feel like a dumb-ass. “Yeah, I’m defective and not scared when I’m supposed to be.”

“Vampiriano?” Matteo repeats, incredulous. 

“Yeah! You know ‘cause –” you bring your hands up to your mouth and turn your pointer fingers into fangs. Bearing your teeth, you give your best angry vampire hiss. Damiano does that thing you love, where he laughs so hard he topples over and puts his head in your lap. Based on the way her eyebrows are raised you seem to have even thrown Isabella off. 

“You never thought he looks like a vampire? With his canines and black eyes and the – the super strength?” She blinks hard a couple times, struggling to process the comparison. “I really need to learn when to stop talking.”

“No, you’re perfect,” Damiano cackles.

“No, no, don't worry about that, darling. It’s just – when people are scared of something they don’t uh, describe it as you have. Like a um…”

“Comic book character,” supplies Matteo.

“Yes, exactly! I’ve just never heard an omega, not to generalize of course, but I’ve never heard an omega who wasn’t offput of the alpha transformation.”

“Well it’s only Vampiriano, that doesn’t scare me,” you clarify. “Ugh,” you make a noise of disgust as your hand runs through a lock of hair crusty with dried blood, wiping it on your dress.

“I can try to get the stains out of your clothes,” Matteo offers. “Any other biohazardous material?” You hand over all the stuff hidden under your backpack. Based on Damiano’s expression he hadn’t realized you’d purposefully concealed it.

“It's okay! This is a hand-me-down from Thalia.” It's actually your favorite dress, which is why you’d worn it, for Damiano.

“You love this dress,” Damiano counters, sitting up. Not as much as I love you. What.

“I’ll do my best then,” Matteo assures. He zips up the kit and stands, both parents ready. Damiano begins to stand and you pick yourself up off the floor. Walking out of the amphitheater into the parking lot, your brain starts to process the past however long. You had no idea that Daminano had a medical condition that required treatment. Why did he keep it from you? Did he not trust you? Immediately you chastise yourself for making this about yourself. Dami’s visceral reaction made it obvious that he was nothing less than completely terrified.

This is why he’d had to switch schools. Something had happened and the gossip between nosy parents had reached Nikolai. You think back to the man that rubbed your back when you felt exhausted at lunch yesterday and wondered what he was capable of. How much harm did a person have to cause for the event to be classified and warrant switching schools? His parents had a full battlefield triage kit in their car at all times to treat the wounds that resulted from Damiano losing control. Had he crippled someone? Had he accidentally killed someone? 

You’d become so distracted that you tripped on a parking curb and almost ate shit. Dami caught you by your collar before your knees hit the ground, pulling you upright.

“Woah, let me carry your backpack, baby.” He slipped it off your shoulders and slung it over his left side. This wrenched you from your hypothesizing. Maybe if he was young and it wasn’t actually his fault and he’d undergone preventative medical treatment you could live with it. You bargained with your morals until you found yourself seated inside the David’s family car with everyone looking at you.

“So, we need to have a talk,” Isabella announced. Dami’s hand was twitching like it wanted to reach out for yours, but he stopped himself.

“What did you do at your other school?” you blurt. Both his parents look at Damiano and you realize his hand is shaking, not twitching. He’s terrified to talk about this. No, he’s terrified to tell you. 

“People act like some big thing happened, like I had some testosterone fueled psychotic break and tore some innocent person apart, but that's not how it was.”

“Okay,” you let out a relieved sigh and folded your hands together. You slide onto the middle seat, bringing yourself closer.

“What's important is that these episodes have only ever been triggered by other alphas,” Matteo explains.

“I know he won’t hurt me. I’m not worried about that.” Damiano whimpers then brings his free hand up to cover his mouth and suppress the sound. Almost like he’s about to be sick. Dami must have been terrified that you would leave him, every day for almost three months. No wonder he couldn’t relax.

“Alright, let's take you home then.” 

“Can I – I wanted to stay for dinner, but I guess now…”

“I’m sure that your presence will be very, very welcome if you feel up for it,” Matteo assured, starting the car. Isabella elaborated upon Damiano’s confession during the drive.

“It started with these rage attacks at 11. Lots of alphas have anger issues so we took him to a specialist and found out it's a hormonal dysregulation. Usually they grow out of it, but around 13 alphas start being a risk to themselves and others. Treatment options have been…a journey,” she sighs.

“So that World War 3 med kit you have?”

“Standard issue with his diagnosis.”

“Right, okay.” There were a thousand questions you wanted to ask, but you wanted answers from Damiano, not from his mother while he sat right next to you. However, your boyfriend was the most drained you’d ever seen him, and you’d never seen him drained of energy at all. Even after a two hour grueling work out he was still bouncy and smiley.

“Maybe we should take this up again later.” Isabella nods slowly, visibly processing your words.

“That sounds like a very wise choice.” Damiano’s parents speak back and forth in low tones. Not so you’re unable to hear, but so you’re not distrubed. They plan dinner, future meetings with Romero’s collegiate sports board, reporting the incident to a small team of doctors. 

“You could have told me, Dami. I would have understood,” you whisper. His lower lip and chin tremble and he swallows hard.

“I know,” he says, barely audible. “I just can’t imagine what the fuck I’d do without you and its barely been – I just, I didn’t want to…to I don’t know.” You kiss his head and taste iron. 

“Mine.” 

“Yours,” he responds, voice breaking. It's important for Damiano to know, even covered in blood, even after keeping secrets, that you claim him. There isn’t anything else to be said right now, so you tune into what his parents are discussing. Isabella has pulled a checklist out of the glove box and they’re going over what needs to be replaced in the first-aid kit. This gives you an idea.

“Maybe I should carry a dose of the medication! I could get a mini first-aid kit. So if something like today happens again when Damiano’s away from his stuff, but I have my bag on me. 

“Sure, I’ll make that up for you tonight,” Matteo agrees, warmly. Isabella turns around to pat your knee. She doesn’t meet your eyes, but you can see her swallow hard. When you arrive at the house, her hand returns to your knee, signaling you not to get out as Damiano and Matteo do. 

“Y/n, this is incredibly intense and you’d already done a massive amount of emotional labor. So if you want me to take you home, everyone would more than understand.” You shook your head immediately.

“I want to be here for Dami.”

“And if that ever gets overwhelming come find me at any time, no matter what. Just because you can help someone, doesn’t mean you should expend all your inner resources doing so.” This felt like a conversation with your mother, except your mom had never had this talk with you. You nod to show understanding. 

“Can we go inside now?”

Notes: You might be asking why this chapter is little shorter than usual. It's because this was the only natural place I could cut it it between here and 13k. This chapter took two weeks because I couldn't condense it down far enough so chapter #7 will be here very soon. Enjoy!

Taglist:@asianhawkeye @biancathecool @bieberhoodforever @blackberryblossom @bohemianrainbow @boyswillbeexecutied @butkutee @ch3rryk4ii @cuzimitaliano @damoriaa @daisy0gf @donuts247usa @elvirabelle @ethaneskin @gr8rainbowpunk @hiraetheral @homesicam @iamtashaquinn @idyllicbutterfly @immrbrightsideeee @iosonoarina @ilwiwbysmv @katyldamusic @l0standn0tf0und @little-moonbeam-666 @maneslut @minnietmouse @obiw4n @ohdamiano @que--sera--sera @teacosea @teenyweenynightghost @thatonebraziliangirl @thegeminisgirl @theimpossiblehologramtree @solacestyles @stardustingold @superchrystaldrug @wasteddoubts @weareoddlydrawn @whore4damia @woahzz11 @xweirdxsceletton

#maneskin #måneskin #må #damiano #damiano david #damiano maneskin #damiano david fanfiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x reader #damiano x reader #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin x reader #maneskin fic #omegaverse #alpha beta omega #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o fanfic

[marlena-immortale]

Playtime (Pt. 2): Playmate

Summary: You and Ethan bring your new kitty friend Damiano into the bedroom to play. 

CW: SMUT + FLUFF, mild scratching and biting, oral sex, anal play, overstimulation, threesome, d/s dynamic, pet play, smut involving pet play, also Giorgia is in this but not involved in the play

Word Count: 6.5k

Masterlist ⭐️ Taglist ⭐️ Kofi

“Are you ready for today?” Ethan asks you, fastening your collar gently around your neck. After locking it behind your neck, he seals it with a kiss and brings his hand around to play with the tiny dangling gold heart on the front. 

You nod your head, feeling a little foggy from the ritual of your owner putting your collar on combined with the playtime activities that transpired this morning. It’s always your favorite way to start the day, having Ethan’s mouth on you making you see stars. 

He can tell that you’re slipping into a more submissive state so he does his best to keep you in the moment while still honoring the dynamic you two have. He knows exactly how to walk that line without making you feel uncomfortable when you need to be in public, like you do today. He stops using names like kitty or pet, his touches are more firm where they used to be teasing, and he encourages you to talk more. Talking is something that becomes harder for you when you’re feeling more submissive. You’d rather just stay silent and feel what your Dom wants you to feel without distractions. 

But now is not the time for that unfortunately. Now, you have to stay as coherent as possible. Today is finally the day that you and Ethan have been waiting for and discussing for weeks. Today is the day you talk to Damiano about playing together. Ethan has set up a dinner with you both, Damiano, and Giorgia. You don’t know exactly what they know about this meeting, only that you are to be on your best behavior. 

“Do you remember the rules for tonight?” Ethan asks, stroking his palms down your arms to hold your hands in his. 

“Yes I do. No misbehaving, follow instructions from you, and speak up if there’s anything I’m uncomfortable with. See, I can be good.” You beam up at him, craving parise. 

“You’re always good, sweetheart. Just want you to remember before we go.” He puts the jacket he picked out on you before taking your hand and leading you out the door.

You’re nervous as hell about tonight. What if Damiano isn’t into it? What if Giorgia is offended by the offer? What if they never speak to you both again? What if you ruin Damiano and Ethan’s friendship and the band? All of your thoughts are painted clearly on your face because the next second, Ethan is stopping you from taking any more steps towards the car and instead is bringing you into a big hug.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright. I already know Damiano is at least a little interested and we’re so close, nothing like this will affect anything between us. But if you’ve changed your mind or want to call this whole thing off, that’s totally fine too. I can tell them something last minute came up and we have to reschedule, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You cuddle into his warm embrace. He always makes you feel so safe. “No, I do want to do this. And I trust you, I promise. I’m just nervous and overthinking, as usual.”

“Well that’s okay, you have me to help calm you down and reassure you that it’ll all be okay. And if at any point you want to leave, I’ll be right there with you, okay? I got you,” he says, rubbing your back and leaving a quick kiss on your forehead.

You nod, feeling much better now. He holds his hand on top of yours the whole car ride to Damiano and Giorgia’s house. 

— — — 

You both arrive at their house to Giorgia greeting you at the door. 

“Y/N, Ethan, so glad you both could make it over for dinner! I feel like we haven’t seen you in forever!”

“I’m so happy we could be here too, we’ve missed you,” you reply as Ethan smiles and takes your jacket off, taking his time to hang it on the rack. 

Their three cats are excited to see you as well, you always give them the best pets. You share a look with Ethan and can already see him trying not to laugh at the picture of you, his kitten, and real cats, and you just roll your eyes. 

“Damiano’s in the kitchen, making his famous amatriciana, come say hi.” Giorgia leads you to their beautiful kitchen, where you lay your eyes on Damiano, wearing a ‘kiss the cook’ apron and stirring a pot of pasta. 

He turns to you with a big smile on his face. He goes to greet Ethan first with a hug and a kiss on his cheek and then turns to you. Your nerves have risen again and Damiano can tell. He just doesn’t know why. You reassure him the best you can by changing the subject after your own hug and kiss from him. 

“Wow, it smells incredible, I can’t wait to try it!” 

At the dinner table, you and Ethan sit close together across from Damiano and Giorgia, who are exchanging the cutest loving looks with each other. You’re caught up in the way he looks at her and you seem to tune back into the conversation at just the right time. 

You hear Giorgia in the middle of retelling a story with Damiano blushing by her side. “It was the cutest thing ever I swear. I knew Dami wasn’t feeling the best that day and then that just had to happen at the event.” She rolls her eyes even thinking about it. “But you picked up on it so quick Ethan. You saved the day. Thank you for making my baby feel comfortable.”  

Ethan gives you a quick look before turning back to Dami and Giorgia. “Baby?” he asks with wide eyes, mostly for your sake because he already knows why she calls him that. 

“Yeahh, he’s my baby.” Giorgia beams while Dami suppresses a smile, staring down at his plate. She comforts him by scratching his hair at the back of his neck while you and Ethan share a look of understanding. Ethan gives that same look to Giorgia and she gets Dami’s attention to give him a sweet smile and whisper something in his ear. You can’t hear it but it seems to give him some confidence because he suddenly gains a cocky grin and a twinkle in his eyes when he straightens his posture and looks directly at you and Ethan before giving Giorgia a nod. 

“We’d love to hear more about your relationship. You’re a gorgeous couple, and as you probably know, we also have a bit of an unconventional dynamic between us” Ethan says, placing your hand in his on your lap and smiling gently at you. You and Damiano share the same shy blush which makes Ethan and Giorgia want to make your slight embarrassment even stronger.

“My baby definitely likes it when I take charge in the relationship, especially in the bedroom.” That part has Dami suppressing a giggle. “He might even have a little crush on you Ethan.” Dami stares at her with wide eyes and she just smiles at him, her thumb stroking his neck still. 

Ethan cuts the tension with a laugh. “I uh, kinda figured that.” He shifts his attention right to Damiano. “But I think it’s pretty cute honestly. I have a bit of a crush on him too. And so does y/n. We both think he’s adorable.” Damiano is beaming under all this praise. “And of course you are fucking stunning Giorgia, we obviously respect you and your relationship. And … we have a proposition.”

Giorgia smirks at Dami like she knows what he will say and they’ve already talked about it. Ethan sees this, ever the observer, and makes the call to continue, sensing it will go in the right direction. 

“Y/n and I are in an owner/pet power dynamic relationship. It’s not 24/7 or anything like that, but we do like to play around with it a lot. As you can see, she is collared by me, owned by me.” Hearing him say that so proudly makes you melt in your seat. You’re too busy reveling in Ethan’s words to notice anything else, but Ethan pays close attention to Giorgia and Damiano’s reactions. Giorgia nods along, listening intently, while Dami’s eyes are wide, looking like a kid in a candy store, barely hiding his excitement. “And recently, we’ve been talking about potentially inviting Damiano into our bedroom for a scene. Again, obviously we don’t want to disrespect your relationship so please, if we are overstepping let us know and we don’t have to speak of it again.”

Giorgia looks at Dami and he smiles at her. Such sweet unspoken understanding between the two. “I’d be happy to let my kitty explore with you. I trust you both thoroughly and think you’d make excellent additions to our dynamic. He’s a very social kitty and would do well with a playmate.” She smiles at Dami who simply cannot contain his happiness and has his arms wrapped around her, probably squeezing a bit too tight. 

“That sounds wonderful,” Ethan replies. “Why don’t you and I talk through some specifics here while our kittens run off to the living room to talk it through for themselves?”

In the living room, you sit with Dami on the couch, both of you taking notice of how your knees touch. 

“So, how long have you and Ethan been doing this?” Damiano asks.

“Bringing someone else in? Never. But it’s been about a year of him officially being my Dom. I remember when he finally gave me my collare, how special that moment was.” Your fingers instinctively got to touch the gold heart at the base of your neck. Dami watches and listens to you, loving hearing you talk about your relationship with such reverence. “It was such a beautiful little ceremony, he told me the sweetest things and said I’d be his forever. And the first scene after being collared, it just made it so perfect. It was the moment when I knew this is exactly what I want for the future.”

“That’s so beautiful. I’m excited to have that moment with my Domme.” Damiano says, his eyes filled with love. 

“When did you and Giorgia make it official?” you ask, seeing that somehow you’ve both drifted closer together on the couch.

“It’s still fairly new, we’re only a few months in with this dynamic. We explored a lot before that, but it’s only been official since then. It was hard for me to truly admit what I wanted. I used to feel weak for wanting it ya know? Men aren’t supposed to want a woman to dominate them. But I do. And once I stopped fighting it and let myself be who I wanted to be, everything started to make more sense. All the pieces fit together. It just feels so right.” 

“I agree completely, it just feels so right when it’s meant to be.” you say, and although spilling your feelings and relating with another sub has been nice, you try to lighten the mood a bit and bring up a new topic. “So… I have another question.” Damiano raises an eyebrow to prompt you to continue.

“When did you bring up the whole ‘crush on Ethan’ thing with Giorgia?”

He laughs, a little embarrassed now. “I didn’t really have to. Giorgia figured it out one day when I got back from tour and every story was about Ethan this and Ethan that, how sweet he was at this restaurant or how much progress he’s made at the gym, or how clever he was for saving my ass on stage when I fucked up a song. Yeah I just couldn’t shut up about him.” He’s bashful, but also seems so happy talking about him. 

“You know, Ethan admires you so much. He loves how vulnerable you can be, especially in your songwriting. He finds you absolutely adorable when you get all stubborn. And he always goes off about how beautiful you look at one red carpet or another. And I can’t help but agree. You really are magnificent Damiano.”

He’s blushing and smiling of course, all his cocky bravado left at the door in favor of his more excitable soft side. “I think the same of you. You’re amazing and stunning, and clearly so good for Ethan. He really shines when he’s with you.” Then there’s this glint in his eye when he goes silent for a second. “And don’t think I’m not equally as obsessed with you as I am with Ethan. There was this one time, you know at the album release party, where you were wearing that one tight black dress, and I could not stop staring at your butt the whole night.” You laugh at his sudden change of tone, there’s the sassy Dami you know and love. “What? I’m just being honest! It’s quite a feat to get my eyes off both my girlfriend and your boyfriend in favor of an ass, but you managed it. Ethan is a very lucky man to get to stare at that ass whenever he wants.”

Both of your laughter dies down as Dami has one more comment to make. “But really though, you two work so well together. I respect your relationship so much.”

“Well, practice makes perfect in relationships I guess.”

He raises an eyebrow and winks.

“That is not the kind of practice I meant!” 

“I know, I know… But also that right?” he gets a mischievous look in his eyes when he sees your shy smile in response. Damiano’s always been the type to spot someone’s true feelings and use them to make the conversation more interesting. “I mean I bet you two have a very active sex life. Am I wrong?” 

Now it’s your turn to blush. “Of course we do. And apparently you’ll be finding out soon enough,” you say with a dramatic wink. You’ve somehow found yourselves even closer together, your knees overlapping as you laugh with each other. 

Your giggling confessions are interrupted by both of your doms coming in and looking at you like they caught you with your hands in the cookie jar.

“Have you two been getting up to something naughty?” Giorgia jokes. You and Dami look at each other, trying your hardest to keep a straight face but you just can’t. You both break out laughing again simultaneously, your joy contagiously spreading to Giorgia and Ethan as well. 

Ethan leads you to the door with a gentle but firm hand on your lower back. Before you can reach the door, Damiano rushes up behind you to give you a big hug before he spins you around for a quick kiss that takes you by surprise. You both smile into it and enjoy each other's embrace as you look on to see Ethan and Giorgia whispering something to each other in their own hug before they part. Before Ethan can come back to you, Giorgia sneaks in to give you a goodbye hug and kiss on the cheek. 

“I hope you and Ethan have fun with Dami, let me know how it goes. If it goes well, maybe I’ll have to join you next time.” Giorgia tells you with a grin in Ethan’s direction, giving you an idea of what they spoke about. Looking over at Ethan, he’s still got Damiano encased in his big arms, stroking his back with his thumb. There’s a new understanding in their hug, like they’ve always wanted to hug like that but have never been able to. All the pressure is off now. Your heart swells at the sight.

— — — 

The next morning, you’re up earlier than usual and decide to get some dishes washed before the rest of the world wakes up. Your mind drifts off as the sound of the water running in the sink drowns every other little sound out. You think of what Ethan and Giorgia could have talked about and how that would dictate how the big night would go. How your mind wants to know so badly every little detail and have some control over it, but your heart trusts your Dom and knows that he’ll make it perfect for you. 

You’re taken out of your thoughts when you feel something warm and wet on your neck followed by a strong grip around your waist. 

“Slow down there buddy, it’s only 8am.”

“Sorry, I just can’t keep my hands off of my pretty kitty.” He detaches himself from you but stays closeby, leaning on the counter next to you and picking up a towel to dry the dishes you just washed. There’s a silence between you for a moment, but it’s never an awkward silence, just comfortable and homey. Until your curiosity gets the better of you.

“So, the conversation went well I presume?” 

“It did. Giorgia and I worked out a few rules and boundaries, making sure all four of us are comfortable with everything. She and Damiano actually talked about something like this before so she told me about that. And we worked out a date that works for all of us.” Ethan puts the dish towel down with no more dishes to dry, your washing being forgotten as soon as you get too enthralled in his words to focus on the dishes. “Do you want to know some more specifics or keep it a surprise for the scene?”

“I want to know!” you very quickly reply. 

“Hmm okay then. But you have to earn it.” 

You assume the smirk on his lips gives away how exactly he wants you to earn it and you lower yourself to your knees in front of him. He smiles but shakes his head.

“Not like that.” he says. You frown, thinking you did a good job, but he quickly corrects himself. “It’s okay, you’re still a good kitty. But I was joking about earning it. I’ll always tell you specifics about a scene if you want to know. C’mere, sit with me.” You both slide down to sit on the floor leaning against the counter. 

“So it’s going to happen tomorrow night, here at our house. Giorgia is going to drop off Damiano and pick him up again in the morning. The scene will start as soon as he comes in and for that night, you’re both my submissives. Sexual play is also on the table. Is that something you’re comfortable with?”

“It definitely is!” “Someone’s a little eager huh?” Ethan teases you. You turn your eyes away, too shy to look at him all the sudden. You are now very aware of your heart rate picking up its pace and the movement of your legs shifting around on the floor. Ethan just smiles and stands up, leaving you confused and pouting beneath him. 

“Are you still interested in your original proposal?” You perk up now, understanding his change in attitude. You rise to your knees, a little too excited to make it graceful, and start rubbing his legs through his sweatpants. Your fingers find his waistband, trying to get them off as quickly as possible. You discover that he wasn’t wearing underwear but choose to ignore this fact for now, instead making it your goal to get him fully hard before touching his cock. With your newfound real estate, you get to work kissing and licking all up and down his legs, leaving a trail of saliva on his thighs and nipping at his hips gently. You watch him get hard as you trace your fingertips lightly over his v-line muscles and suck on the skin of his inner thigh. 

By the time you feel Ethan’s fingers combing through your hair to gently encourage you closer to him, you feel yourself washing into a trance, letting him guide your head where he wants you and letting your vision be filled with his beautiful body. Your lips meet the tip of his cock and you give him the sweetest kisses. Your little licks match the rhythmic pattern of his fingertips stroking your scalp. 

“God you’re so adorable I can’t handle it,” Ethan grunts and you look up, your wide glassy eyes meeting his. “Keep your eyes on me kitty.” His thumb pulls at the corner of your lips and you comply, opening your mouth to let him push inside. His mouth falls open slightly in a soft moan as he sets a good pace for his thrusts while your tongue plays with the underside of his dick as it slides in and out of your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby. Your mouth feels so good. Imagine how much fun we’re gonna have with Dami here too.” You know he’s saying this to rile you up and get you all hot and bothered but you can tell the thought has him excited too. “I’ll have you both on your knees for me, have you both be my good little kitties all night long.” His thrusts pick up in pace as he goes on about his fantasy and soon enough he’s grunting and gasping and holding onto your hair tighter. Still looking into your eyes, he holds himself deep in your throat and you feel him pulse in your mouth as his cum spills down your throat. 

“Oh my God, how can you be so damn cute while giving a blowjob?” he asks while cleaning off some of his cum off your lip after letting you catch your breath. 

“Do you think you’ll be able to handle two stubborn kittens at once?” you ask, still feeling bold enough to push his buttons. He just gives you a stern look that tells you that you better be a good kitten. Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed it.

— — — 

It’s the day of the scene and you’re just finishing up making the bed with all your nice and fluffy pillows and blankets. Ethan has put out a bunch of toys to have plenty of options to choose from and set up a little aftercare station on the nightstand. You and Ethan had a brief talk yesterday with Giorgia and Damiano just to go over everything again and make sure everyone’s on the same page. You’re ready, a little nervous, but ready. 

Ethan beckons you over to where he is sitting on his comfy chair. You automatically kneel down on the fluffy mat that’s situated between his feet. 

“You look beautiful kitty.” You already have on your best collar along with a comfy all-black bralette and shorts set to match. 

Ethan starts giving your chin and jaw soft scratches and your eyes fall shut. He trails his fingertips up your arm and brings your sensitive wrist up to his lips to give it slow and gentle kisses, letting you fall deep into subspace feeling nice and floaty and safe. Inner wrist kisses are one of the easiest ways to get you to fall deep. 

“There you go kitten, just like that,” he whispers and you barely register it. Subspace is always a little foggy at the beginning for you. But the praise still feels nice as his lips trail up your palm and he leaves a kiss to each fingertip. 

Once you’re nice and relaxed and you’re purring as your cheek rests on his thigh, he tilts your head up by your chin, looking you in the eyes and giving you a smirk. You can see the mischief in his eyes and it lights a fire within you to challenge him. He of course knows this about you and beats you to it by giving your collar a little tug before you can try anything sneaky. A smirk of your own grows on your lips as you feel the tingly sensation of excitement run through your veins. 

Just as you’re ready to pounce onto his lap, you’re startled by the doorbell ringing. Your body acts before your mind and you get up to run to the door. You make it about an inch before you feel yourself being pulled back to the ground by Ethan’s hand on your upper arm. 

“I want you to wait and kneel on the bed while I go let Dami in.” He waits until you do so. You pout but still comply. 

At the door, Ethan greets Damiano and Giorgia, stepping aside for Damiano to walk in. 

“Treat him well tonight.” Giorgia says to Ethan before blowing a kiss to a blushing Dami and walking back to her car. 

Damiano is nervous, rubbing his palms together, looking everywhere in the room but at Ethan. Assessing the nervous mess in front of him, Ethan knows he has to take charge right off the bat to make him more comfortable. 

“Come sit with me.” Ethan leads Dami over to the couch and he happily follows, relieved to have some guidance in this awkward situation. He tries to sit with Ethan on the couch but is quickly corrected. “No, kitties aren’t allowed on the couch.”

Dami takes his time getting onto his knees but Ethan doesn’t comment on it, he knows he’s trying his best to be good. Since Ethan has never played with Dami before, he doesn’t know what will get him relaxed like he does with you. He starts slowly, just using his fingers to massage and scratch Dami’s scalp and comb through his hair gently. Ethan hears his breathing even out and his expression soften. It’s working. It finally hits Ethan that this is really happening and that he has an obedient pliable Damiano under him right now. 

Dami starts whimpering quietly and leaning into his touches. Ethan trails his fingers down across his face, tracing his features and taking the time to appreciate them fully. He reaches his mouth and feels his soft lips as Dami finds the courage to look up at him. He can see in his eyes that he’s falling into subspace. He traces his finger across the seam of his lips until they open for him. Dami tries to be good and only uses his tongue to lick his finger but he just can’t help himself. He gets feisty and starts to nibble on Ethan’s finger. As much as Ethan finds this fucking adorable, he has to put a stop to this behaviour. 

“Hey! No biting, bad kitty.” Dami leaves him with one last little nibble before letting his finger be free. 

Ethan leads Dami to the bedroom where you’ve been waiting patiently. As soon as you see them your eyes light up and Dami’s expression matches yours when he sees you too. You immediately lean your upper body down to welcome him onto the bed to play. He takes you up on that and jumps onto the bed with you.

“Careful, he bites.” Ethan warns from the edge of the bed but you  pay no attention, too excited to finally have another kitten to play with. You both stare at each other, waiting for the other to initiate. Some plush toys come flying at the bed from Ethan and both you and Dami go for the same one, a fluffy rabbit toy, tugging on either end to try to win the toy. 

“Play nice, you can share,” Ethan says to you both. You both drop the toy, instead choosing to just toss it around to each other, making a game out of it. 

“Good kitties, I knew you could get along together.” You toss the toy to Dami but it changes course and veers to the left of the big bed. He lunges for it and catches it with his whole body, a big smile on his face when he realizes he caught it. He tosses it back with a little more force than last time and you fall backwards in your attempt to catch it. 

You toss it back and forth a few more times but this game is only entertaining for two demanding kittens for so long. Dami gets bored first and decides to make you his new toy instead. He comes at you with the biggest smirk on his face and determined eyes, tackling you to the bed. You squeal and thrash but he’s stronger and holds you down. 

Ethan decides to help you out, pushing Dami back roughly. You take advantage of your newfound freedom and pounce onto Dami, pinning him down with your arms and legs. You think you have the upper hand now, with Dami struggling under you, but he breaks free and rolls you onto your back once again pinning you down. This time he just watches you struggle and whine with a smirk on his face. He waits until you’re too tired to keep fighting him and leans down to gently kiss the tip of your nose. You giggle and scrunch your nose at the unexpected affection. 

Ethan just watches with hearts in his eyes at the adorable show you two are putting on. He lets you both get comfortable with each other, which seems to be quite effective, and lets you get some energy out together before he has his way with you. 

Once you’re both tired out and snuggling into each other like little kittens when they’re about to nap, Ethan climbs onto the bed and your energy is somehow immediately reinvigorated. He sits back on the bed and lets you both lean against him as you play a little more. Dami’s paws start wandering on your body and you’re getting a little worked up from it. Ethan can definitely tell by your warmed skin against him and the way you lean into Dami’s touches. 

“Would you like some help to relieve that tension?” Ethan asks you and you smile up at him. You hear a whine and look over to see Dami with a big frown, so hurt that he wouldn’t offer that to him too. 

Ethan laughs, asking, “would you like a helping hand as well?” to Dami. His eyes light up as he nods enthusiastically. You look at Ethan, then at Dami, then back to Ethan, waiting for his guidance on the next step. 

Ethan starts petting Dami on the back of his neck and Dami melts, leaning in and silently begging for more of his touch. He encourages Dami to keep touching you by placing his paw over your breast. He touches you, and he’s so gentle with you. It’s adorable but frustrating so you push his hand into your chest for more. He takes the hint and starts kneading your breasts just right and playing with your nipple through the fabric. Ethan’s strokes travel down Dami’s chest and he matches him by giving his nipples a little attention. That gets Dami a little too worked up though, and he accidentally scratches you across your ribcage. Ethan is immediately ready to act and correct his behavior, but you throw your head back, letting out a loud moan, and he calms down, seeing that you liked it. Dami is spurred on by your reaction and finds new places to lightly scratch on your body to hear your reactions. 

You finally feel brave enough to touch Dami too, running your hands along his sides, up his shirt and toying with the waistband of his pants. It’s gentle and cute and you keep it up when you hear the encouragement of his moans and gasps. You learn very quickly just how loud and dramatic Dami can be, writhing and the lightest touches already. But you love it, it’s nice to hear when he likes what you’re doing to him. Ethan seems to like it too, joining in on the fun with his own touches to the both of you. His touch is more firm and less curious than Dami’s. And more determined. His hands are the ones to begin removing clothes. 

Dami leans in and kisses your neck, his confidence bringing out your own so you show him exactly where you like it and give him soft moans when he shifts there. His kisses turn into nibbles and sucks and it feels so good, your body arches into his. He keeps going until he decides he wants more fun and bites a little too hard and you yelp from the surprise. Within a second, Ethan pulls him off your neck by his hair and Dami whimpers, scared of what Ethan could do to punish his brattiness. 

Ethan can tell how scared he is and laughs a little, determining that his fear is enough of a punishment for him. “How about you put your mouth to better use?” Ethan pushes his head down between your legs. Very excited about the turn this took, Dami gets right to licking and is so happy to be there, tongue out and ready to please. He’s good at it too, like his mouth was made to eat pussy. His tongue softly laps up all your wetness and his lips encase your clit, sucking gently before dipping back down and pushing into you. 

“Use your fingers too, pretty kitty, that’s how she likes it,” Ethan instructs, petting his hair. Dami obliges, stroking his middle finger down your pussy until it sinks deep into you. After a couple thrusts with just one, he adds another thick finger to stretch you out while his lips and tongue continue their magic on your clit. You let out little whimpers and soft moans, letting yourself drift into a happy blissful state of only pleasure. 

You can feel vibrations in your pussy and hear Dami moaning too. You open your eyes to see Dami, with his face buried in your pussy and his back arched with his ass up. You can just barely see Ethan behind him, his head moving as he licks Dami’s asshole. Your focus is shifted down as you also notice Ethan’s big veiny hand jerking Dami off slowly. The sight is too much to handle for your foggy little brain and you pull Dami in even closer. Ethan reaches out with his free hand to hold over your paw and it comforts you. 

Dami sees this and gets jealous, deciding the right course of action is to be a brat again, he takes both his fingers out of you and only just barely brushes his lips against your pussy. You whine out and Ethan catches on to what he’s doing so he punishes him by stopping his stimulation altogether. 

“Dami, be a good kitty and make y/n feel good and you’ll get your reward. Good kitties finish what they started.” Ethan waits until Dami gets back to work, but not before giving you a teasing long lick and letting the cool air of his breath hit your sensitive pussy first. That one gets him a quick slap on the ass from Ethan which spurs him on to give his very best to you. 

You can feel yourself getting closer with each stroke of your g-spot and lick of your clit. Your moans get higher pitched and your pussy clenches onto Dami’s fingers. Your mind is filled with the beautiful sounds of moans and whimpers and you feel tingles all over your body. Your legs are pushed open by Dami. You didn’t even realize you were shutting them. You pay no attention to how loud you’re being or how your body bucks and leans into the pleasure, just letting yourself go. The feeling builds in you and Ethan squeezes your hand as you release and cum onto Dami’s mouth and fingers, your hips humping his face as your orgasm runs through you. 

Quickly after your orgasm, you can feel Dami cumming onto the sheets beneath him with a moan so loud it could be a scream. He bucks into Ethan’s hand and you watch his cum shoot out, wishing it was shooting into you instead. His eyes roll back as the last of his orgasm washes over him and he falls onto your pussy when Ethan’s overstimulation becomes too much for him. Your pussy is just too sensitive right now and Dami’s face smushed into you hurts a little but he’s still recovering so Ethan has to step in and remove him by gently pushing his chin so he’s resting on your thigh instead now. 

You hear Ethan laughing and look up to see why and are greeted by the sight of Dami’s entire blissed-out face covered in your wetness from face planting into your pussy. It’s very cute seeing him like that. 

“Aww, my little kitty got too enthusiastic huh? Well that’s okay. I have another kitty right here to clean up your mess.” Ethan looks at you. You lean in and lick off your own wetness from Dami’s cheeks and his nose and everywhere else it ended up until he’s nice and clean and back to reality, playfully swatting you off as you giggle, trying to finish the job. 

As you both settle into the bed, like the happily satisfied kittens you are, Ethan reaches over to his aftercare table he set up to get some snacks. He picks up a bowl of cut up fruit and feeds you both, alternating between bites so no one gets jealous. 

When you’re done, you lick the fruit juices off of Ethan’s fingers happily like a good kitty. Dami on the other hand, nips at his fingers. Ethan doesn’t have it in him to scold him during aftercare so he just removes his fingers from his mouth and sets down two bowls of water on a tray. You and Dami lean down and lap up the water greedily. 

Ethan puts everything away neatly and then gets under the covers, pulling you both with him. “C’mon, let me cuddle with my cute little kitties now.” You and Dami each rest your heads on either side of his chest and meet in the middle for a kiss before settling into the cuddle. But, Dami can’t stay still for too long. He whines and paws at Ethan’s chest, basically humping his hip. 

“Just like a cat in heat.” Ethan teases, trying to calm the restless kitten. “Y/N, you’ve been a good kitty tonight, like always,” Ethan tells you, knowing how much you thrive off of his praise. Dami pouts, wanting some praise of his own. “Well maybe if you behave, I’ll call you a good kitty too,” Ethan scolds him, but his words don’t hit too hard as he smiles and continues petting Dami even as he says them. “But even if you were a brat, I loved getting to play with you. And I know, deep down inside, you’re a good kitty.”

Ethan gives you each a sweet kiss before you all succumb to the exhaustion from your scene, falling asleep all tangled up in each other. 

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Taglist: @little-moonbeam-666 @stardustingold @iosonoarina @maneskindiva @ohdamiano @maneslut @theimpossiblehologramtree @iamtashaquinn @till-you-scream-and-cry @snakesofindia-sursesaji @noeprd27 @que--sera--sera @bethanysnow @brookeraggi @shadowy-lady-collective   @itsmaneskinbitch @h1ppieth1ngs

#maneskin smut #maneskin x reader #ethan torchio smut #ethan torchio x reader #damiano david smut #damiano david x reader #maneskin fanfic #måneskin smut #måneskin x reader #måneskin fanfic #maneskin fluff #måneskin fluff #måneskin #maneskin #ethan torchio #damiano david #damiano david fanfic #damiano david fanfiction #ethan torchio fanfic #ethan torchio fanfiction

[honeyimcoming]

hi, tumblr!! i am a new må blog! i’m in love with damiano david (and plan on writing for him in the near future). i’ll have more posts with info about me very soon! ❤️‍🔥

#bunny’s talking 📞 #maneskin #damiano david #victoria de angelis #thomas raggi #maneskin fanfic #damiano david fanfic #damiano david x trader

[goldilockswrites]

Hey this is what I commented about! Could you maybe write a fluffy story where All of måneskin come to your home town for the first time and you go on a walk with them all and take them into a forest as they all say things like “girl do you know where we are” and a really confused boyfriend (Thomas) , it’s ok if not but if you can then thanks 💗🌹🌷

The Part Of Me I’ll Always Need - Thomas Raggi

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Pairing: Thomas Raggi x Reader (she/her) + Guest Appearances from Ethan Torchio, Damiano David and Victoria De Angelis

Requested: Yes

Summary: Y/N’s boyfriend decides to surprise her, by bringing his bandmates to her hometown. The girl suggests they take a walk through the forest and have a picnic. As it turns out after a good hour of wandering it seems they can’t find the spot. Just as they begin doubting Y/N’s knowledge of the trees surrounding here house they find out she’s been planning a surprise all along.

Warnings:  Fluff (Is that even a warning?); Proofread, but there is a chance there are mistakes, since I typed this out at 2 A.M. 

A/N: Hey! Here is another Thommy story, brought to you by Monster and moi (I’m not actually sponsored, by Monster, but at this point with how many cans I’ve had I think it’s time they do.)  I hope you enjoy! :) Love, Axe <3

Tags:  @writingmaneskin @myfavguitarboythomasraggi @moonlight-simp @cuzimitaliano @l0standn0tf0und-fics @selenophiliaxx @wasteddoubts @mywritingonlyfans @wannabemarlenabutiscoraline @que--sera--sera @iosonoarina @theimpossiblehologramtree @sunflowerpumpkinpie @maneslut (if you’d like to be removed from the tags feel free to tell me :) )

© 2021-2022 @idyllicbutterfly on Tumblr All Rights Reserved

Add yourself to my taglist - Check out my other stories

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The sunlight mustered a magnificent mosaic - gold reflecting from each leaf and branch. Each ray fell gently on bumpy surfaces, as if it was happy to be a part of this mural. Y/N sat in bed - an almost empty cup of coffee on her nightstand, an open laptop on her lap. Manuscripts upon manuscripts. Dull, borning, pretentious. She couldn’t help rolling her eyes; life was ugly, emotions weren’t always beautiful and gracious. There was darkness in the light; and there was light in the darkness, always. However these concepts seemed to be left out of most of these future best-selling authors’ works.

Three knocks distracted her from her work. Y/N put her slippers on walking over to the door. The cabinet in the small halfway was a mess - bottles of hairspray, make-up, jewellery, nail polish, sunglasses. She grabbed the colourful bunch - more keychains than keys hung on the silver ring. One of the eiffel tower, for when she was away, which seemed pretty pointless now that she was home and could see it every time she got out on her balcony for a smoke; one of the colosseum - it reminded her of Rome, the summer she met her boyfriend, the apartment they bought together; the third one was a metal sunflower, the fourth - a red paperclip. She swiftly twisted the key, unlocking the door.

“Buongiorno, mademoiselle." A huge bunch of the yellow flowers was clutched in a man’s hand, a backpack resting by his side. Thomas. “Sun! What are you doing here?” The girl left the bouquet on the ground, throwing her arms around the man. “Well, we happened to be passing by and I decided to come visit, my love.” Y/N glowed as the guitarist kissed her lips. She took a second to observe him.

His gorgeous green eyes fogged with exhaustion; his freckles - now lighter; hair slightly shorter. A wide shirt hung around his frame, most of the buttons left unbuttoned revealing his chest and leaving his tattoos on display.

“Anyway, enough about me. How have you been?” Thomas’ irises sparkling with excitement as they walked to her bedroom. “Well, Mr. International superstar, my life is far less entertaining than yours. All I’ve done the past few months was argue with book agents and try my best to make pretentious fucks, sound more like human beings and less than robots trying to figure out how the human world functions.” Y/N’s gaze wandered around the room landing upon a paint-coated canvas, wrapped in sparkly paper with a tulle bow in the middle. “Oh, I was also invited to this very cool exhibition and might have spoken to the artist about you… And we may or may not have made you a little… Well… Gift.” The girl grabbed the edge of the frame, sliding it to the boy. “Open it.”

His long fingers worked on ripping the paper, a slight shake to his hands. Soon it was all gone, the present revealed - a painting of Y/N and him. He immediately recognised the photo it was inspired by, a polaroid they had taken before tour - Thomas was on his knees on the messy sheets; his girlfriend positioned between his legs, champagne-coloured lingerie adorning her body; his lips were sunk into her shoulder. The room behind them - chaotic; an almost empty bottle of wine and an abundance of clothes thrown around.

“Do you like it?” Y/N placed her head on his back. “I fucking love it.” The sound of a doorbell going off interrupted them, just as their lips were about to touch. “Ugh…” The girl rolled her eyes, as she got to the door. Her own surprise awaited her on her doorstep - the rest of her friends stood in front of her. “Guys! What are you doing here?” She yelled excitedly, throwing her arms around Ethan’s neck. “Hey, kiddo.” He smiled at her. “How have you been?” “Pretty good, grandpa.” Y/N/N giggled. “What about you?” “Tired, but happy.” The drummer nodded. “So, we didn’t interrupt you and the cowboy, did we?” Damiano inspected the make-up that laid on the counter in the room.

“I told someone we should wait…” Victoria pointed towards the singer. “But he didn’t listen.” “No, no, problem at all. We were just talking.” The girl nodded. “Hey, Cobra!” The vocalist patted Thom’s back. “What did you and mademoiselle over here do, huh? You know I am too young to become an uncle, yes?” “Chill, Y/N was kind enough to give me a gift.” “So did you give her the souvenirs or not?” The bassist pushed the boy.

She always thought of the blond as her younger brother, so when he asked for help to buy gifts for his girlfriend, she couldn’t help, but wander into all the shops that seemed to have things that would fit the taste of the editor. In the end, the trinkets of all their destinations were stored in a beautiful velvet bag; the items inside varied from rings, bracelets and charms, to CDs and books.

“Not yet.” The boy smiled sheepishly, before he reached into his bag taking out the purple pouch. “Here you go, love.” Y/N smiled widely, almost tearing up. “Thank you so much, sun! You are so thoughtful!” She kissed his cheek. Her fingertips pulled the ribbons apart, opening the bag. Inside she first spotted an abundance of rings: butterflies, flowers, bees, lions; five CDs - all limited edition albums of her favourite musicians; and a compilation of Charles Bukowski’s poetry. “Flower…” Y/N/N teared up. “This is seriously one of the kindest things ever!” The girl threw her arms around the boy one more time. Damiano cleared his throat behind them. “I’d hate to ruin your romantic moment over there, but if you wouldn’t mind, Thomas, we would all want to speed some time with lil’.” “I am taller than you.” Y/N snickered.

“Of course, of course. Now where should we go?” “Would you guys like to have a picnic? I can get some pastries and coffee from the bakery downstairs and we can take a walk through the forest.” “That sounds like a genius idea.” Vic giggled. “How about we go get them and the boys get the luggage inside.” Y/N/N pretended to think for a minute, before laughing at the request and nodding in agreement.

“Jasmine” seemed small and dark - quite the uninviting view, from anyone unaware of the peace and charm the bakery actually had. No more than 1500 square feet; a chequered floor, teal walls and glass fridges filled with all sorts of sweets - cakes, cookies, muffins and macaroons. “Salut!” Maya lifted her gaze from the display. Her grey-ish hair concealed in a net; skin flecked with sunspots. “Salut, Maya! Ça va?” The girl answered cheerfully. "Ça va, et toi?” The elderly woman answered. “Tres bien. Merci!” Y/N’s gaze slipped from pastry to pastry, discussing what she should get with the bassist. In the end they settled on what to order, asking for it to be placed in a brown paper bag.

Outside the weather was even more sunny than before. The boys stood by the little building smoking cigarettes stuck deep in a conversation about some song. “Hey, boys! We got the food, do you want to get going?” Y/N asked, raising the bag in her left hand. “Of course.” Thomas jogged forward, grabbing the pouch from her and clutching her hand, sealing their lips, before letting her drag him in the direction she had in mind, the rest of the band following. It didn’t take long before they were wandering into a forest-like territory, which was in reality a park, steering off sandy and stone paths and walking through the grass.

Insects flew around them, small lizards making leaves and branches crunch under their bodies.

“Y/N/N, I am not saying I doubt your orientation abilities, but are you sure we are headed the right way?” Ethan was the first one to ask, feeling creeped out by the view of trees behind, in front and to the sides. “I am absolutely sure,we are headed the correct way. We are almost there.”

As if on cue a patch of bare ground appeared on the horizon. “Here we go!” Y/N gestured to the spot, ducks swimming around in the lake, flowers growing close to the water. The girl grabbed the guitarist by the hand, dragging him to the stone-covered ground. “Okay, there’s actually a very important reason I got you guys here exactly.” The girl took out a small box from her back pocket. “Thommy, you make me the happiest woman alive. I’ve never known happiness this strong, before I was with you. I love you and you are the part of me I’ll always need. Will you marry me?” The blond stared at her in disbelief, gaze darting from her face over to the silver band. Still speechless he took his necklace off, opening the pendant that hung on the thin chain - a flat ring inside; the band glimmered, seven small stones set on it.

“I- Y/N, I never want to let you go either.” The boy smiled, as tears filled both of their eyes. “Yes.” He said. “I will marry you.” The woman nodded, placing the ring on his finger with a shaky hand. Extending her own for him to place the ring atop hers. “Okay, can we finally eat?” Damiano giggled excitedly, clapping his hands together.

#maneskin fanfiction #thomas raggi fanfiction #ethan torchio fanfiction #victoria de angelis fanfiction #damiano david fanfiction #thomas raggi imagine #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi #ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio imagine #ethan torchio #victoria de angelis x reader #victoria de angelis fanfic #victoria de angelis #damiano david imagine #damiano david x reader #damiano david #maneskin imagine #maneskin #maneskin x reader

[writersblockiskillingme]

If Not For You | Damiano David

Pairing: Damiano David x reader

Summary: As Damiano goes away on the tour with his band mates he has to deal with leaving his home behind. You.

Warning/s: random couple making out, alcohol and that's about it.

Author's note: So English isn't my first language so I apologize for any grammar or spelling mistakes (I'm really trying). Also, I don't know Italian so if I wrote anything wrong Google translate is taking the blame. Enjoy!

(Y/E/C) - your eye color

"There'll be no summer

There'll be no spring

If not for this love of mine

Thrones without flowers

Bars with no drinks

If not for this love of mine

All this lights

All the parties would just fade out

Shut them down"

It was truly tortures. He was in LA, all alone. At least it felt like that. Snooping around the bars, in the middle of the night. Bars that were literally at every corner of the dark street he was walking on. Vic, Thomas and Ethan were off somewhere else. At some "dumb" party Damiano didn't bother to attend. It was a waste of time anyway. Not that he had a better way to waste it, anyhow.

It sickened him. Truly. Couples were holding hands everywhere. Whispering quietly to each other's ears and laughing at something that seemed like it was the funniest thing in the whole universe. Maybe it was. But he couldn't be bothered at the moment. Some guy and his girlfriend were making out in the middle of the dance floor in the middle of some random bar he walked in. He felt disgusted. Or at least he thought he was.

He walked up to the bartender, ordered a beer and walked off to the corner of the bar. He pushed through the dancing, yelling and laughing crowd so he could finally sit down at the empty table. Damiano sat down with a sigh. He was drowning his beer in silence. The party around him was wild, full of life and youth. He knew that he shouldn't be slouching like someone had died. But he knew that he couldn't help himself. He felt alone. On the band tour, on the parties, even in this bar as he looked at all the people dancing, being drunk and probably high, he felt alone.

Damiano pulled out his phone as he searched for your contact. It was an early morning in the country where you were. He thought that you must still be asleep. Perhaps he should be doing the same. But he didn't. Instead of sleeping in now empty hotel room, he wondered into some lousy LA party drinking his sorrows away. Even though he really doesn't even enjoy alcohol. But he didn't care about that at the moment. He just wanted to be back home. Back in Italy. Back with you at least if he couldn't be home. But you were his home. And he missed you. He wondered if you liked the flowers he send you. He wondered if you even got them yet. Suddenly, Damiano got up. Not caring about the party or the beer, not that he did before. He didn't even bother to acknowledge the couple that he bumped into on his way out of the bar. He couldn't be bothered that the guy was angrily yelling at him to watch up. No. All he cared about was calling you. And so he did.

"If not for you, I wouldn't sing anymore

(Da-ba-ra-ba-ra, ta-ta, da-ba-ra-ba-ra)

If not for you, I couldn't get off this floor

(Da-ba-ra-ba-ra, ta-pa)

If not for you, hell would be knockin' on my door

If not for you"

There were the moments when he felt like all of that fame was too much. Moments when he wondered if he should be doing this. Moments when he wondered was he even good enough for this. Moments when he wondered did he deserve all of the thing and people he has now. There were moments when he felt like breaking down. It was just before the tour. He was in the (Y/N)'s and his apartment alone. Or at least he thought that he was alone. Damiano was sitting on their bed. He hid his face in his head, gripping his hair. He felt a strong burning sensation in his eyes. He didn't let go. He thought that he shouldn't, that it's not worth it. He missed the sound of the door of the apartment opening, he missed his name being called out softly over and over again. Like a broken record player.

"Damiano." he lifted his head then. There she was. Holding the keys of the car in left hand and an empty luggage in her right hand. It belonged to him. He was supposed to be packing the last suitcase, but he wasn't. He left it in the middle of the hallway. He knew (Y/N) must have stumbled upon it and she brought it here. He couldn't keep his tears in anymore when he saw her slowly walking up to him. He smashed into her, pulling her against him tightly. He slipped his hand under his her shirt as he felt the warmth of her skin and smelled the sweetness of her perfume. It was almost like, if he had loosened his grip even a little bit, she would disappear. He knew he will have enough time to miss her for 2 months. He needed this comfort. He needed her in his arms for a little while longer because he knew that neither of them could know when they will see each other.

"Are you okay, amante [lover]." you asked him softly as both of you slowly lowered onto the cold floor. You felt him falling down so you went with him. You felt like that too, anyways. You were running your hands through his hair as you reasted your head on top of his. It was almost if he was squishing the life out of you, but you didn't care. He learned his head against your chest, focusing on your heartbeat.

"You know, if it wasn't for you I wouldn't sing anymore." he said and for a moment he left you speechless. You were about to say something when he interrupted you. You let him. "You are the reason I am here today. You are the reason I didn't give up. You are my motive, my inspiration for everything I do. Sei la mia musa [You are my muse]. Sei la mia ispirazione [You are my inspiration]."

As Damiano continued to clutch you to him, he felt something wet streaming down his hairline. He knew very well what it was. He was doing it, too.

"No more Nirvana

No Billy Jean

No dancin' if you were gone

How could I wake up

How could I sleep

How could I be someone

All those crowds

All the music would just fade out

Not a sound"

Damiano was gripping that microphone for his dear life, it seems like. He felt his throat being sore, but adrenaline was at its highest peek so it was all right. He could see in the corner of his eyes Vic and Thomas playing along with his singing. Ethan was also jamming away with his drums. The crowd in front of him was screaming, dancing, laughing, they were having fun. The band did to. You could fill the high spirit. But you could also feel that something was missing. Or rather someone. Damiano felt it deep in his being. Everyone was here. But there wasn't one person that should be. You. His eyes scanned the crowd. His wild, dark eyes searching in hope of finding your (Y/E/C) ones. He hoped, even though he felt like he shouldn't, that you would somehow be here. Even though you were thousands of miles away, he hoped that you would be there. He hoped that some miracle happened and that his lover would have her schedule cleared so she could come. Damiano hoped, even if you don't come to him, that you ate, drank. That you are taking care of yourself. He hoped with his whole being that you are alright and that he will see you again very soon. Otherwise, he might just come and get you himself.

Just as Damiano finished singing the last chords of their song his eyes unexpectedly found ones he missed so much. At that moment he felt like he was whole again. That the missing part of his sould was glued back to him again. And it was.

There you stood. Practically in front of Vic who was playing in front of the left side of the stage. You were standing next to Leo, looking at him. He felt like he was all alone there with you. Damiano felt like he was dreaming. But he wasn't. You were there. Just like he asked you when he called you three days ago. You were there, looking and smiling at him. Singing along with him. He knew that he was home at last.

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TAGLIST

@opal-rugger

JOIN THE TAGLIST HERE!!

#Spotify #maneskin #maneskin imagine #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #damiano david #damiano david x reader #damiano david x you #victoria de angelis #thomas raggi #ethan torchio #fanfic #imagine #songfic

[xxangelfarrlzxx]

I was bored when i wrote this but this is also inspired by my other friend named Xavier who gave me this recommendation :) (ily btw/p)

THIS IS BxB. I will re-write this as BxG, BxN. If you are a fem, its okay, you can read this as a G!P if you don’t mind/ignore the “he/him” pronouns on y/n 😭 enjoy!

WARNING(s): smut, bdsm, bj, just my writing in general 😭💀

“Ugh…” I groaned. I was INSANELY bored out of my mind, but also depressed because I was reading one of my fav books but it ended at a cliffhanger. I was very upset about it until I heard a knock at my door, leaving me forgetting my own thoughts.

I get out of my bed and walk over to my door, seeing Damiano standing at my door, holding a bag and an un-protected/un-wrapped box. “Hey Dam..what’s that?” I asked him, looking at the bag and the box. “I got this for you, handsome.” He replied back to me in a flirtatious manner. “Oh..okay.” I say blandly. “What’s the matter baby? You look and sound annoyed and upset about something.” He said softly, lifting up my chin with his thumb. “I was reading a book and it didn’t end how I’d expected to be. It was left at a cliffhanger.” I told him, backing up a little so he can enter my room. He sat down on my bed comfortably and I sat down next to him. “Ah, okay. Mind telling me what it was about, bambino?” I blushed a bit when he started speaking little Italian. “Well it was a steamy book.” I reply to him. “Steamy? You mean Sesso?” He replied back. “Um..yes.” I answered him. “Hmm..why don’t I make it a reality to make you feel better?” I get flustered at the sudden remark. “Alright..maybe that’ll take my mind off of it, I suppose.” I say.

-TIMESKIP CUZ IM LAZY AF AND FORGOT ALL ABOUT WRITING THIS SHIT..LIKE SERIOUSLY I LEFT THIS SHIT IN MY DRAFTS FOR FUCKING MONTHS 😭😭😭 AND I ACCIDENTALLY SWITCHED POVS SO THAT WAS 1ST PERSON AND THIS IS 3RD PERSON-

“D-DADDY!~” You moaned out loudly. Damiano currently had you bent over on your bed, fucking and pounding the life out of you. You couldn’t help but to moan every pump. Your ass was red as hell from the belt spankings, your hands were tied in a pretty pastel ribbon, you’re legs were tied with a rope, and you both were sweaty as hell. Dami was still pounding you, having your thoughts go wild. “You like how Daddy feels inside of you, hm?”. You nodded, as all your abnormal moaning, you couldn’t barley even speak other than screaming, crying, begging, and pleading out for your life. You we’re almost sure the neighbors could hear you guys. “More, yeah?” He teasingly asked you. “Y-Yes!~” You muffled a little bit into the pillow. He went deeper and harder inside of, causing louder moans coming from you. Dami was moaning as well, but not as loud as we you were. He grinned, seeing the sight of his handsome prince in front of him bent over. “Who do you belong to, baby boy?~” He purred out. “You, Dadd-Y-AAHHH~” You cried out. He had whipped you again. “Not loud enough, pretty boy. Again.” He asked you slyly and in his whore voice. “Y-YOU DADDY~” You nearly screamed out. He smiled before you started to speak. “I-I feel it…” you moaned out. “Hm? Fel what~” He teasingly asked. You knew not to try to play games with him, as you were in desperate need to cum. “I..I need to cum..” “Need?” He asked you once more before whipping you again. “I want to cum please, daddy!~” You replied to him. You couldn’t bare it anymore. He’s been edging you for…about a good 30 minutes, but allowed himself to cum a few times. “Hmm…fine, sweet boy~” He moved faster and deeper into you. You screamed out once you finally got to cum. You already knew what was next, but realized you couldn’t move. “Awh, poor boy can’t get up and move? Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.” He pulled himself out before gently moving your body, your head facing him and his now wet dick. You looked up at him with just your eyes but before opening your shaky mouth so he could dick your throat down. You gave him his desired bj as he moaned out. He almost moaned as loud as you before he started thrusting against you. Thankfully, because of him, you didn’t have any sorta gag reflex. “Good boy, taking and handling like a pro.” You smile against his dick before going faster. You heard him moan out before letting some of his cum shoot inside your mouth. You swallowed it nonetheless and carried on. A few minutes pass before his moan become more whoreish. Before you could realize what was about to happen, he came inside your mouth more harder this time, and you swallowed it up almost instantly. You backed away a little bit while you both were breathing heavy.

He untied you on both the legs and hands and gave you soft kiss on the lips. He gently laid you both down for a bit before speaking softly into your ear. “Let’s go take a shower?” He asked before nipping on your ear. “Lets.” You say while getting up along with him to the bathroom, and you both shower together

THE FAKANG END

#damiano david #maneskin #måneskin #damiano x reader #x yn #smut #simp #18+ fanfic #18+ obviously #wattpad #tumblrpost