#damiano david fanfiction

[marlena-immortale]

A Valentine’s Surprise

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

CW: SMUT, orgy, oral sex, anal play, double penetration, food play, spit play, alcohol  

Word Count: 5.2k

Masterlist ⭐️ Taglist ⭐️ Kofi

You wake up to a cold and empty bed, which is out of the ordinary. For the past few months, you’ve been used to waking up all wrapped up in the limbs of your four beautiful lovers, slowly taking in the world after a well needed deep sleep for all of you, usually caused by the various bedroom activities you got up to the night before. 

But this morning is different. As you regain consciousness you remember falling asleep with all of them late last night. So where could they have gone so early without telling you? You start to feel a little left out, which doesn’t help how you’ve already been feeling lately. You know that your partners love you and that you’re an equal part of this relationship, but sometimes it feels like you’re on the outside. You’ve been feeling that way ever since their management’s album release celebration idea happened to be a wedding ceremony. You know it was just publicity for the band and that you couldn’t have participated in it even if they wanted you to. It all feels a little irrational to be upset about so you haven’t brought it up to your partners, but you’re sure they can sense something has been a little off recently. 

You drag your tired body out of bed to pick up your phone you must’ve left on the dresser and find a handwritten note on top of it sealed with a heart shaped wax seal. It reads:

To our beloved Y/n, 

Happy Valentine’s Day. 

Today, we want you to feel just as special as we know you are. So be ready by 7pm, we’ll send a car to pick you up, and check the closet for our first Valentine’s gift to you.

Love you always, 

Victoria, Ethan, Thomas, & Damiano

You immediately can’t stop smiling, happy that they not only didn’t just leave you in the middle of the night, but are preparing a surprise just for you for Valentine’s Day. Feeling much more invigorated than before, you make your way to the closet and open the door to find a beautiful long red silk dress with a very high slit up the side. You hold it up to your body in the mirror and can’t help touching the smooth fabric you’ll soon have all over your skin. Looking over to the other side of the closet, there’s a white box with a big red bow on it. You unwrap the bow, giddy to see what else they’ve gotten you, to find the softest sexiest set of lingerie you’ve ever seen. There’s a matching bra, panty, and garter belt set, all red with black details. It’s gorgeous and you remember the high slit in the dress and blush, thinking of how the thigh garter and strap will be visible to anyone looking. And your blush deepens knowing that this is exactly what they must’ve planned when they picked this out for you. Your head swims with thoughts of what they’ll be wearing and where they could be taking you and what your night may consist of. 

You quell your excitement for now by focusing on getting ready so you can be perfectly put together for them, deciding to take a relaxing bath before anything else. Mostly to kill time as you can’t get any actual work done thinking about what’s in store for tonight. 

— — — 

After your bath, you do your hair and makeup in the way that makes you feel prettiest, adding just a bit of extra blush than usual to complement the red of the dress and match the occasion. It’s finally time to slip into the lingerie and the dress and you put them all on so carefully despite them clearly being made well enough to withstand a bit of wear and tear. You look at yourself in the mirror one last time, feeling like such a princess in this outfit, so excited to see your partners and get to kiss them and leave lipstick marks all over them. The love you feel for them is truly unmatched in this moment. They must’ve gone to such great lengths to make tonight happen with their busy schedules, and not to mention them successfully keeping it all a secret from you. How they managed to do that with Damiano’s blabber mouth you’ll never know. You think about how cute they must’ve been while planning this. Vic probably took the lead, directing the boys on what to do and them following along. Ethan probably picked the venue and Damiano probably picked the outfits. And you can just imagine Thomas complaining with every task he’s given but secretly loving putting this much attention and detail into planning something for you. 

By the time you’re smiling to yourself in the mirror thinking about how adorable your partners are, you get a text from them in your group chat, telling you the driver is pulling up now. You get in the car, texting them that you’re on your way, even if you don’t know where that is yet.

— — — 

You step out of the car, taking in your surroundings, to see your favorite restaurant. They must’ve planned this so far in advance; this place is always booked. How sweet of them. It’s a little chilly out so you’re glad you paired your outfit with one of Vic’s big fluffy white fur coats. 

Walking into the restaurant, the hostess leads you to a section you’ve never been sat before, the balcony. Your partners must’ve reserved the entire private balcony for this dinner. As soon as the doors are opened and you lay your eyes on them, you can’t help but smile seeing all their beautiful faces. Their outfits are coordinating reds and blacks to match your own. Vic is wearing the most beautiful short black slip dress with red stockings being held up with similar garters to yours, and a red jacket. Thomas is wearing an all red suit with a black harness underneath. Damiano is wearing a black and red suit with a sheer black top underneath. And Ethan is wearing a sheer black blouse, red wide leg dress pants, and a small pretty red bow in his half-up hair. They look so amazing and you realize that with the matching colors and fabrics, you all make the perfect, complete picture together. 

“I love you guys so much,” you tell them, unable to contain it anymore. 

“Aww we love you too sweetheart,” Vic greets you first with a hug and a kiss, and then everyone takes a turn wishing you a happy Valentine’s Day and trying to keep their kisses to a PG level while you’re still in semi-public. 

The dinner is lovely, just as it always is at this restaurant, and the company is even better, your connection with them feeling so natural and conversation flowing easily. 

“We were going to make you a homemade dinner, but someone can’t even cook pasta without setting it on fire so we booked a reservation here instead,” Damiano says, sending a glare in Thomas’s direction, who just laughs and shrugs innocently. 

“You’re going to be even more surprised with what we have planned next,” Ethan barely gets out of his mouth before Vic shoves his shoulder, barely even moving him an inch, and tells him, “Shhh, you’ll ruin the surprise!” Now you’re even more excited to get on with this night. 

After dinner, they lead you back to the car where you all squeeze into the back, even though there’s plenty of room one row up. It’s more cozy this way. 

“How’d you like your dinner baby?” Ethan asks, your legs basically on top of his.

“It was really great, thank you guys. Today has been magical already.”

“Just wait babe, we have so much more to show you,” Thomas teases with a wink and a squeeze of your exposed thigh. 

The car parks and you realize you’ve not been driven home, you’re at a hotel. They must see your confused expression, thinking the rest of the night would be spent in your shared bed together. 

“We may have booked a nice hotel suite for the occasion.” Vic informs you.

“Nice? Babe, we booked the nicest hotel suite. You’re gonna love it!” Damiano corrects her, dragging you by the hand to the elevator. It’s a beautiful, ornate hotel that must cost a fortune to stay at. You decide to not ask questions and just enjoy the luxury. 

In the elevator, no one can seem to keep their hands to themselves. You can feel hands gently wrapping around your waist from behind and little kisses being snuck on your neck and jaw. Your own hands have somehow wandered to Ethan’s hair, undoing his pretty bow as he stares at you with his intense eyes. 

Your jaw drops as soon as the elevator door opens to the most beautiful hotel suite, decorated with rose petals all over, leading to the bedroom, and the perfect low warm lighting that makes it feel comfy, even with how fancy it is. You follow the rose petals to the bedroom and see a huge bed they must’ve specially requested. There’s ice buckets full of expensive champagne bottles, and silver trays of chocolate covered strawberries, and bouquets of red roses all around you. It’s the perfect cliche Valentine’s Day dream come true. 

You’re so in love and so grateful for your lovers that if you don’t get your lips on them right this second, you’ll start crying. So you do exactly that, turning around to grab the first you see, Ethan, and pulling him in for a kiss. 

“This is amazing. Thank you, I don’t even know what to say.” you try to get out, your eyes not knowing who or what to focus on. 

“Then don’t say anything, just enjoy this gift with us.” Vic says confidently, leading you over to the giant bed. “We made sure to get the extra big bed, so we’ll have plenty of room to play around without worrying about someone falling out of bed and breaking their dick.”

“I didn’t break my dick! … Just bruised it a little,” Thomas says back, remembering that night with a laugh. 

You all hop onto the bed together, with plenty of room to spare, and you see Damiano who is looking at you all with such big heart-eyes.

“I just love you all so much. I’m so happy to have you guys in my life, I don’t know what I would do without you.” he says, and you all bring in your most romantic of the group for a big hug, sharing similar sweet sentiments to each other. 

“You know you guys didn’t have to do all this for me, I would’ve been just as happy planning something for you instead,” you tell them, starting to feel a little guilty that you weren’t involved in the planning of this at all. 

“Well, you can help plan next year’s Valentines celebration,” Ethan starts. “But this year, we wanted it to be special for you.”

Thomas continues, “We know we haven’t had a lot of time lately to see you and we know you’ve been feeling a little left out. So we wanted to show you how special you are to us.”

“We love you y/n, and you deserve all of our love and more,” Vic says, arms around your shoulders. She leaves a sweet kiss on your cheek as you hold back tears from how adorable they’re being and how they know exactly what you needed to hear. 

You take a breath, clearing your head, before saying what you really want at this moment. “Well, now that I know how much you guys love me,” you tease, “how about we put this bed to good use huh?” They seem to like this idea, needing your go-ahead before switching the tone of the evening to something more fun.

You all strip each other of your nice outfits, not wanting to get them all sweaty and dirty, when you see what they’ve been hiding underneath. They all have on coordinating lingerie too and the only thought in your brain is oh fuck they look hot. You’ve never seen Thomas in something so slutty and it’s got you reeling. He’s fidgeting around under your gaze in his tiny little red lace g-string thong that does absolutely nothing to cover him, that black chest harness you spotted under his jacket earlier, and nothing else. When you finally tear your eyes away from him, you spot Damiano next, showing off his beautiful black sheer panties and bralette combo with a matching black silk floor length robe he’s put on. Ethan is wearing super short and tight red boxers that attach to garters that wrap around his thigh muscles that he could probably bust out of if he flexed them hard enough. And Vic looks drop dead gorgeous in her red lace thong bodysuit and matching thigh garter bands. Your own panties they picked out for you are starting to get uncomfortable with how wet they’ve gotten you just by being in their presence with these sexy lingerie sets. 

Thomas spots the fresh chocolate covered strawberries and picks one up to feed to you. You accept the treat, looking him in the eyes while you wrap your lips around it, effectively distracting him, but he spills a little chocolate onto your chest. 

“Hey Thomas, don’t get our girlfriend all messy … at least not yet,” Damiano says.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. He can just lick it off to clean it up,” you tell him. Thomas’s eyes light up. He smirks before letting a bit more chocolate drip onto you, this time lower down your cleavage.

“Oops,” Thomas says in his most innocent voice. You all giggle at his very cute behavior, but the moment his tongue starts lapping at the chocolate right at the low neckline of your lingerie and he stares up at you with his big eyes, your giggles turn a little breathier. 

As you let yourself be distracted by Thomas’s tongue slipping lower and lower, you feel more hands on you. This time, they’re from Ethan, gently laying you down onto the soft bed against the mountain of pillows. 

You then see Vic crawling on top of you with something in her hands. A bottle of opened champagne in one and a bottle of chocolate sauce in the other, smiling down at you, already stripped down completely. Now you have something else to get distracted by. And while you are, Damiano takes the opportunity to take your lingerie off too, kissing the newly exposed skin with each tug of the fabric. He runs into Thomas, still licking at your chest and guides him to follow, leaving sloppier, deeper kisses after Damiano’s gentle chaste ones. 

You look around to see where Ethan has gone and find him behind Damiano and Thomas, stripping them and himself of their lingerie. It’s a shame you don’t get to stare at them in it for longer but you’re just as happy to see their completely nude bodies on top of you. 

With everyone in a more nude state, Thomas, who has been extra lovey and clingy tonight, decides he wants to be even closer to you and wedges himself between the bed and you, allowing you to lie your head on his chest and sit between his long legs. Ethan and Damiano are on either side of you, their hands seemingly everywhere; playing with your nipples and teasing your thighs and kissing your neck and playing with your hair. It all blends together when their hands are pleasuring you so nicely. 

Vic is tired of waiting and mounts your lap, shoving Thomas to move his legs so she can get on top of you. “Let me get in here too, honey,” she tells Thomas as she climbs on top of you. He complies, but only to pull her in to straddle the both of you, the extra height making her pussy rub against your lower stomach. You can feel how wet she is and it turns you on, being trapped between Thomas’s boner and Vic’s wet pussy. 

“Mm, you feel so good baby, do you like having my pussy all over you?” she asks. All you can manage in response is a nod.

“Oh c’mon, we know you can do better than that. We’ve heard you be very naughty before. Don’t make us force it out of you.” Ethan encourages you.

Ethan’s words definitely break your spell of silence. “Yes, yes I love it. I love having you pussy on me Vic!” 

“Ah there she is, our naughty little vixen. Good boy Ethan, getting her to speak,” Damiano teases Ethan who is not usually the submissive one in this pair. 

“Careful sweetheart, or we may have to punish you after we finish our celebrations today,” Ethan threatens so sweetly. Damiano just smirks and bites his lip in response, excited to see how his lovers will punish him. 

Vic gets you all back on track to the task at hand by pouring some champagne into your mouth and then kissing you, letting her tongue taste the liquid between your lips.

“Mm, sweet, just like you,” she says, punctuating with one more kiss to your lips. “I wonder how it would taste elsewhere on this delicious body of yours.” She then pours it down your chest and watches it drip down your body onto Thomas’s. Damiano and Ethan take their turn to lick it off of you, making sure to get every drop. 

Vic lifts one of your legs and pours it slowly starting at your ankle so it flows down your leg and she sensually licks it all the way to where it stops on your thigh and drips down to Thomas’s. 

You hear Thomas huff and everyone turns their attention to him. “It’s all over me too but no one seems to be licking it,” he complains with a pout.

“Aww, does our baby want some attention too?” Vic asks. “He’s right, we shouldn’t let this champagne go to waste.” Everyone goes to lick the excess champagne off of his skin while you turn your head to kiss him deeply, feeling every twitch and moan of his while he basks in the feeling of all of their tongues on him, licking and kissing his thighs and hips. 

While Ethan and Damiano busy themselves with getting the last remnants of champagne off of you and Thomas, Vic then gets out the chocolate sauce next. She tests it out by pouring a little bit onto your chest, prompting Ethan to lick it off first, saying, “you like sweet things.” 

He complies, licking it off your chest, right above your nipple and it’s a different feeling to them licking the champagne. It’s thicker and he has to really lick hard to get it all off which feels so good, not to mention Vic must’ve heated up the sauce because it’s nice and warm on your skin. She pours it in little designs on your skin and Ethan and Damiano lick it up so enthusiastically. 

“Slow down there boys, there’s enough to go around I promise,” Vic teases but they ignore her, lapping up the chocolate just as eagerly. 

“Do you want to try some Thomas?” Vic asks and Thomas nods. She pours some in her own mouth and then prompts Thomas to open his mouth by pulling down his bottom lip, letting the chocolate sauce and her spit drop into his mouth before kissing him passionately with the sweet sauce between their lips. 

When she breaks her kiss with Thomas, she gives the other boys something to do by pouring some sauce on both of your nipples and pushing their heads to lick it off. Then she spreads yours and Thomas’s legs and fits herself between them. She drips the sauce on your inner thighs and lets it drip down onto Thomas’s as well, watching as it slowly falls. She licks both of your thighs and then goes a bit higher, first teasing Thomas right under his balls to hear him whimper before diving into your pussy with her tongue. She knows your body and your reactions so well and she always eats you out like you’re her last meal. She’s got you grinding into her face because it just feels so good especially with Damiano still licking your nipples and Ethan kissing your neck and Thomas’s hands gripping your hips and you are in fucking heaven right now.

Thomas’s grip on your hips slowly starts turning into him desperately grinding your body down on his dick and moaning under you. Vic takes notice once her pace of licks on your clit is altered.

“Hey, I know you’re horny, but quit using our girlfriend to jerk yourself off, you’re messing up my rhythm,” Vic teases, but it just seems to make Thomas harder under you. 

“Pleeaase Vic, I need her pussy so bad,” Thomas whines desperately.

“Hm, hold on. I have an idea,” Vic says with a mischievous look on her face. She whispers something to Ethan before getting off the bed. You try to follow her with your eyes but Ethan blocks your vision by climbing between your legs and leaning down over you, his long hair stopping you from looking over his shoulder.  

“Hi,” he simply says, giving you such a sweet and gentle kiss, only to catch you off guard by hiking up your legs around his waist to control your body and push you further up onto Thomas’s chest. Now your brain stopped working because you can feel both Thomas’s and Ethan’s cocks resting right on top of your pussy. They seem to be affected by this too and both gasp. 

“Um hello, can I be in on this secret plan too?” you hear Damiano say from beside you. Ethan rolls his eyes and smirks but pulls Damiano over and holds his hand, bringing it between your bodies to wrap around both his and Thomas’s cocks. His fingers don’t fit all the way around both but he does his best to jerk them both off against each other. There’s too much friction though so Damiano takes it upon himself to spit onto their tips, spreading the saliva all around to smooth the feeling and when they start getting into it, he bends over to lick at them too. 

And you’re just sitting there, legs spread wide with Damiano licking and sucking Thomas and Ethan together so close to your pussy but not close enough. It’s torture and you make it known with a loud whine, to which Damiano laughs and teases you even more by periodically blowing cool air over your pussy or “accidentally” bumping into it on his path of licking the cocks, or just barely gives you a lick before taking his tongue back to the boys and frustrating you even more. 

Just in time before you shove Damiano’s face into your pussy in retaliation for his teasing, Vic comes back with lube. “Dami honey, open her up with your tongue first,” Vic tells him.

You smirk at him, feeling like you finally got your way, and Damiano giggles before pushing Ethan out of the way dramatically and picking up Thomas’s cock, but not without a kiss to the tip first, and gently moving it to the side so he can make room for himself to feast on your ass.

After about ten wonderful seconds of his tongue licking around your rim, he stops to complain, “Thomas, your cock won’t stay where I left it.”

Thomas just laughs at his wild statement, “There’s not much I can do about that.”

“Everytime I move it, it just comes right back and twitches on my cheek. I swear you’re doing it on purpose.” 

Thomas stops himself from laughing even louder. “Okay okay, I’m very sorry on behalf of my cock for not staying where you put it.”

“You and your cock are forgiven,” Damiano says, trying to keep his straight face before giving Thomas’s cock a kiss of forgiveness, which only makes it jump more. You try to put yourself back into a sexy mood which you have no trouble doing once Damiano switches to gently rubbing lube into your hole with his finger just barely pushing in. 

You look off to the side to see Ethan and Vic have made use of this time by making out with each other, Vic straddling Ethan and grinding on his lap while she pulls his hair and kisses his neck thoroughly. 

The stretch of Damiano’s tongue teasing your rim and his now two fingers inside you feels so good that you push yourself down onto them, making Thomas hold your waist to his body to prevent you from moving so much. 

Once he’s done, Damiano gives your hole one last kiss and gets Vic’s attention away from Ethan's mouth to show her what a good job he’s done, smiling up at her.

“Aww, you did such a good job baby,” she praises, giving him a little scratch under his chin, loving his cute reactions to her being more dominant. “Okay, now Ethan, you come here.”

She directs Ethan to kneel between your legs and then slowly guides Thomas’s cock into your asshole. You focus on the smooth stimulation of him against your walls to distract yourself from the discomfort of the stretch. Thomas moans and whimpers and is so loud about it because you're still so tight even after Damiano’s stretching and with plenty of lube. You hang onto Thomas’s hip, digging your nails in as you brace yourself. Then Ethan pushes himself into your pussy and you suddenly feel so full and so surrounded and protected by your lovers.

 They get into a rhythm of Ethan holding your hips to move your body up and down onto Thomas’s cock while he shoves in and out on beat, like he’s playing your bodies like he plays the drums. While you get used to the feeling, Dami positions his cock right next to your head, guiding you to turn your head to suck him off. You don’t have much range of motion in this position so he slowly starts fucking into your mouth instead.

You slide your mouth off of him for a moment to say, “Dami, your thrusts are so off-beat from Ethan and Thomas.” You can’t help wanting to feel like the melody of a song they’re making just for you, using your body as their instrument. 

Thomas helps him out by using one of his hands to jerk the rest of Damiano’s cock that’s not in your mouth in time with Ethan’s thrusts. It all feels so good and just like music the way they’re all thrusting on quarter and eighth notes on the same rhythm together. 

While all this is happening, you’re missing the touch of your girlfriend so you pull Vic in too, who replies saying, “I was trying to figure out how to fit into this but now I have the perfect idea.” She lays herself on you backwards on all fours, her knees barely touching the bed on top of two people, with her pussy in your face and her own mouth on your clit and Ethan’s cock as he slides in and out. Ethan seems to love this idea, his moans getting louder. You start obediently eating her out while moaning on her pussy that drips down your chin.

“Hey I was using that mouth,” Damiano says, now with his dick just resting next to your face.

“Then maybe you should put your dick to better use,” Vic says, coming up for air from between yours and Ethan’s crotches.

Dami decides to do just that and comes around the back to prep Ethan’s ass before beginning to fuck him, letting Ethan’s thrusts into you be the guide for how quick he fucks him. He rubs Ethan’s big muscles, feeling how they move under his fingers, and plays with his hair and neck and even the base of his cock as it slides into you. 

Everyone is moaning and pleasuring each other and it all feels so connected and synchronous, you don’t even feel like separate people anymore, just one big mass of bodies and pleasure. 

“Fuuck, Ethan I can feel you through y/n. You both feel so fucking amazing,” Thomas says, almost screaming at this point.

“Mmh I know baby, I know. You feel so good too, doing such a good job for me, keeping up with my pace,” Ethan replies, his voice so fucked out. You’re all just chasing your pleasure now, working together to make each other feel good and reach your finish lines.

“God, you guys are gonna make me cum. It feels so good. I never want to leave this bed,” Vic says, her words reverberating against your pussy and Ethan’s cock. 

Ethan starts hammering into you and shoving you onto Thomas’s cock even harder, a tell tale sign he’s close, not that anyone can blame him, fucking your pussy, Vic’s tongue on his cock, and Damiano’s cock up his ass. But even with all that stimulation, you still come first, the feeling sneaking up on you with the level of pleasure being so high for so long, moaning and writhing between all of your lovers and all you hear is their mumbled praises and you feel them all around you and this truly is heaven. You’re so out of it you only barely register feeling Thomas buck up into you and cum in your ass before Vic grinds her pussy into your face and you lick up all her wetness. 

Ethan holds off for as long as he can but eventually cums deep inside you. And you can tell Damiano came because of his very dramatic orgasm screams that you will never get tired of, clenching around Ethan’s cock that’s still inside of you when you hear them. 

You’re all out of breath and still inside and on top of each other as you recover from the intense fucking. You slowly and reluctantly part from each other but only enough to get some air back into your lungs. You all refuse to leave each other’s sides, stroking and lazily kissing at whatever sweaty skin is in reach, to show your gratitude. Everyone’s blissed out and a little out of it still but you all mumble your barely coherent vows of love and adoration for each other. 

You lay there, between your four lovers, feeling content and satisfied while you all come back to reality until one voice speaks up louder than the rest. 

“So uh … this suite has a really big shower and it looks like we all need to get cleaned up right about now huh?” Thomas suggests, not wanting the fun to end just yet. 

.

.

.

Taglist: @little-moonbeam-666 @stardustingold @iosonoarina @maneskindiva @ohdamiano @maneslut @theimpossiblehologramtree @iamtashaquinn @snakesofindia-sursesaji @noeprd27 @que--sera--sera @bethanysnow @brookeraggi @shadowy-lady-collective  @itsmaneskinbitch @h1ppieth1ngs @m3tamorphos3s

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

[filthforfriends]

Chapter 21: Brave Enough

Authors Note

Word count: 7.9k

Read the rest here!

After an emotionally taxing conversation with his psychologist, Damiano decided to also stop smoking weed/otherwise consuming cannabis. It’d been too triggering, a reminder of all the reasons he loved coke and opioids. Admitting he wasn’t ready for parties or group gatherings was even more difficult. He loved his friends, his family, and going to Vic’s DJ gigs. He loved playing pool at bars or dancing to the deafening pulse of techno music in a club. These things allowed him to feel the hurried, bright energy of his youth. It was proving hard to differentiate between craving community, craving mania, and craving situations because he associated them with drug use. 

He also made a habit of exercising in the mornings, before treatment. The earlier he took his lithium and ate some protein, the better he tended to feel throughout the day. Routine made cravings easier to resist when he woke up with them and endorphins lessened the severity of his depressive moods.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” That's what you told Damiano when he debriefed you the next evening, a chip to mark 24 hours sober clutched in his fist. He’d disclosed his relapse in group and sobbed, despite hardy efforts not to shed a tear. You make dinner and stroke his hair when Dami lays his head on your lap. He’s cynical, not receptive to positive affirmation. Unfortunately, this mood has become more common as the years pass. So you focus on gestures: nicely making his bed, meal prepping his breakfast, cleaning the litter box even though it was his turn. 

Surprisingly, Damiano requests you read aloud some favorite passages from the books you’ve finished since the breakup. You’d always thought of that as an activity for your sake. Of course he doesn’t actually use the word “breakup.” Dami won’t touch that terminology with a 10 foot pole. He’s grumpy and lovable, snuggled under the pale pink bed sheet as you speak.

Dami returned the favor by waking you up with coffee, which became a tradition on weekdays. He probably got up 10 minutes earlier than necessary to do so. The first morning you thought it was a glorious dream. Instead of the abrasive and occasionally rage-inducing beep of your alarm, a hand you recognized as Damiano’s was rubbing your back. It slides under your t-shirt and gently strokes your spine. You shiver and hum in delight, then scooch closer. Eyes still closed, the bed dips and you sense Dami taking a seat on the edge. The morning light pours in through the curtains – to which you have your back turned – as the scent of espresso reaches your nose. Such sensory perfection must be fantasy.

“It’s time to wake up,” he murmurs.

“Mm mm.” You object and scoot closer, curling around Damiano. He chuckles and massages your scalp with his fingertips. 

“Big stretch,” he narrates as Cheeto rouses herself by his feet. You can tell it’s not Princess, since she’d be meowing by the bedroom door as soon as she heard Damiano up and about. Finally, your brain starts to register that this might be reality, since you never dreamed of Cheeto and Dami simultaneously. You open one eye and are accosted by the bright light, confirming that this isn’t a dream.

“Hey,” you croak, squinting up at him. “What time is it?”

“A couple minutes before your alarm. I turned it off.” You readjust, head, shoulders, and arms splayed across Dami’s lap. “I don’t think that counts as getting out of bed.”

“I’d like to contest that.”

“Getting out of bed in general or if laying on my lap counts?”

“Yes,” you sigh, eyes falling closed.

“Mm mm, keep ‘em open,” he requests, affectionately. You whine in protest and pout. More than anything, you want to pull Dami into the bed for cuddles, but it’d make you late for work.

“Fine.” Awkwardly, you flip onto your back to stare up at Damiano. He’s smiling, which is good motivation to keep looking.

“You’re cute when it’s too bright. You squint so hard that you get this little line between your eyebrows.” He runs his finger along your nose, then taps your cupid’s bow. You’d very much like him to keep going, gently stroking your features. He delicately moves the hair from your face and your eyelids grow heavy. Damiano tsks, working a hand between your mid-back and the mattress.

“Sit up. C’mon.” With a sigh, you detangle your legs from the sheet. “C’mon,” he coaxes sweetly. “When you’re ready to stop pouting, there's coffee.” Your feet land on the floor as Damiano helps push you upright. After a couple sips of espresso, your pupils adapt and the brain begins working. Dami remains seated, hand on your back, and you love that he’s content to just share space. Love that things don’t always have to be full of words and amusements for one another.

“Thank you, this is so nice!” You hug Dami with messy enthusiasm, leaning some of your weight against him. Damiano embraces back and kisses your head.

“I’m happy to do it, sweetheart.” His hand resumes stroking your spine, the other moving the hair from blocking your face. “Just stay awake.”

“Okay, okay,” you groan, standing up and stretching. Dami doesn’t move, probably hoping to catch a glimpse of something. You want the physical affection to continue so badly that it hurts in your chest a little. So you give into an urge before thinking about it and sit on Damiano’s lap, throwing your arms around his shoulders. 

“Wha – hey there, sweetheart.” Aware of morning breath, you kiss Dami’s neck, hairline, and behind his ears. “Feeling a little touch-starved?” You nod. Slowly, he slides his hands under your shirt. By touch-starved, you hadn’t necessarily meant skin to skin. Damiano sneakily took advantage of an opportunity by reading into it and you certainly weren’t mad about his decision. 

Things start innocent enough, his hands rubbing your back, but then they move away from your spine. When stroking around your waist and hips, his fingertips brushed your stomach, pinky dipping underneath the waistband of your pajama shorts. Then those hands slide up, cupping your ribcage. You stop breathing, frozen with anticipation. Would he touch your breast? Would he slide his hand to the front of your chest and caress it in his warm, rough palm? Would he play with your nipples? Rub them with the callous on his thumb? Would he then slide his hand down your front and into your shorts? If he did, you’d raise your hips to give him room. Then you’d trap his hand against your pussy and grind. Did he want to tease you today or make you moan? Or make you cum? 

When you check his expression, Dami’s eyes are glued to your heaving chest and erect nipples. Knowing that he’s hard, you throw a leg over and straddle him. Then you scoot in as close as possible to rest your weight against his erection, stimulating both of you. Damiano’s eyes flutter and his hands escalate from stroking to grasping. You wait for him to make the nest move, but he doesn’t.

“If you could do anything –”

“If I could do anything you’d be underneath me and too wracked with pleasure to say anything but my name and the word please. If I could do anything the neighbors would be filing a noise complaint and you’d be on probation at work for repeated tardiness. If I could do anything we’d have already gone through a bottle of lube and half a dozen sex toys. Our clothes would be on the doormat, panties included because last night we fucked against the front door as soon as you got home. Then again on the kitchen counter and again in front of the bathroom mirror and a fourth time in the shower, which was all a preamble to what I’d do to you in this bed.” 

You look over his shoulder at the mattress cover and twisted sheet. You’d gotten in the habit of sleeping on Dami’s side. It hadn’t actually smelled like him for months.

“What would you do?” he asks.

“I…I have to get ready for work.” You try to climb off his lap, but Damiano holds onto your waist firmly.

“Did what I said offend you?” he pressed.

“No,” you reply breathlessly. The moment is deliciously intense, especially the way he’s staring.

“Overwhelm you? Turn you off in some way?”

“Uh, no. Well, maybe overwhelm a little bit…”

“In a bad way?” Dami hasn’t forced the issue in terms of sex since coming home.

“In a good way.”

“Then what would you do? If you didn’t have to get ready for work.” You pause and look down. “We don’t have to actually do it, at least not right now,” he whispers.

“I would – I want you….Um, you’d play with my nipples.”

“Mhm.” His hand slides up your chest and rests on your sternum.

“Then you’d put – push your hand down my front.” Dami obeys, his fingertips stopping at the waistband of your shorts. You stare, willing him to go further with every ounce of your being.

“Does my hand go under your shorts?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Does it go into your panties?”

“Yes.” His real hand doesn’t move. “Between my legs so I can…Actually, I kinda wish that I was just wearing a t-shirt so I could pull your pjs down and grind against your cock. And then, maybe…”

“Mhm,” he encourages.

“I’d take off my shirt too and rub my nipples against your chest until they were sore. Your – your sweaty, hairy chest. And you’d hold me like you weren’t worried about scaring me away. Really grabbing me, like you were confident, but also because you couldn’t help yourself.”

“Show me what you mean,” he demands.

“I – I can’t. You just have to.” Dami grabs a hold of your upper thigh with his free hand and flips both bodies. Your back lands on the mattress, arms and legs already wrapped around him. Damiano pushes you further onto the bed, so he has room to climb on top.  It would take less than a minute for you to both wiggle out of your clothes then locate a condom and lube. Probably closer to 30 seconds. It's the same sensation as the makeout two mornings ago. You wanted to say yes, but your self preservation instincts weren’t letting that happen.

Damiano searches your wide-eyed expression for decisiveness and finds nothing of the sort. He can see you thinking about it. Then he sees you over-thinking it and knows that this will not be the moment you feel comfortable enough to trust freely.

“Like this?” He’s panting, as well, and for some reason, that's unbearable sexy. Dami isn’t putting on a facade. This borderline chaste amount of physical contact has got him worked up, too. You almost kiss him, then recall your morning breath and cover your mouth.

“I need to brush my teeth.”

“Y/n, I don’t give a good god damn whether or not you’ve brushed your teeth. I don’t care!” Dami loses his cool, but quickly recovers it. “I – sorry. Sorry, let me…” He walks his hands backwards and climbs off the bed, then helps you stand up.

“Thank you for the coffee,” you repeat, taking a long sip, that way a response won’t be expected. As you slip by Dami to leave the bedroom, he gives your butt a little squeeze. It was once a regular gesture in private, but he hadn’t taken this type of initiative since getting sober. You whip around with an impish smile, the mug nearly held to your lips. Damiano’s expression is watchful, then validated. He was testing the waters and your reaction basically invited him to jump right in.

Rather than refocus on his own routine, Dami watches you assemble a lunch while still in pajamas. He stands on the edge of the kitchen, pondering something, admiring you.

“Whatever your timeline for physical intimacy, I will respect it, 100%.”

“I know that, Damia.” You wash and fill your water bottle. He leans his hip against the counter with crossed arms. 

“But if you're waiting for things to feel not scary with me, that day may never come. Our history isn’t gonna get more palatable.” You hadn’t considered things from that perspective before. “Part of a nurturing relationship is pushing each other, challenging restrictive thought patterns.” Damiano moseys over. First, his right hand cups your hip. Then, the left rubs the side of your glute languidly, before wrapping around your middle. Dami holds you casually, but still body to body, standing behind you at the kitchen sink. Each exhale ruffles your hair, a reminder of how much you’d missed this. Dami’s wandering hands and desire for closeness.

This must have been another thing you blocked out for survival, since an awareness of what once was made losing it lethally painful. You’d forced yourself not to remember and now the remembering felt like the first first bloom of spring after a frosty winter. 

You lean against Dami, let his shoulder take the weight of your head. Then you lay your left arm over his, fingers lacing together.

“And I don’t want to push past your boundaries, but at the same time…” He leaves tender kisses down the column of your exposed neck. “This definitely exceeds a hand holding level of intimacy. It breaks the no couple behavior boundary –”

“Me and my fucking rules,” you groan. Repeated back, you sound certifiable, even from an understanding Damiano.

“This certainly qualifies as sexual touch.” His pinky and ring finger dip under your waistband as he dips into a whisper. “But I didn’t ask first and I don’t have to ask now, either, because just your body language is telling me how much you like this.”

“Forgot until just now.” With an even more dramatic groan, you turn around to meet his eyes. “Ugh! I know I’m shit at this –”

“Not what I was saying, at all,” he interrupts, thumb brushing your cheek. “I was just gonna suggest using a Listen for My No system of consent instead of Wait for My Yes. But that's such a sexually aggressive thing to suggest on someone else’s behalf that I…” He makes a face, nose scrunched up.

“But I agree with you. I’d like that, I really would, but, um…” Dami’s expression goes from relieved back to uneasy. “When I submit, I can’t usually access the decision making part of my brain. Kinda the point, actually.” 

“Baby, we never do anything in subspace if we haven’t agreed to it first.”

“I know, but I’d feel –” You gesture erratically, but the right adjective never surfaces. So you settle on “shitty, I guess.” Avoidant, you stare at the floor in anticipation of Dami’s reaction. Of course, Princess is right there, biding her time for the inevitable moment that all this attention is rightfully turned to her. “Sassy Pants,” you coo. She rests her front paws on your shin and meows, so you pick her up.

“Y/n, I never want you to – awe, look at the fur baby.” Damiano gets distracted by Princess, who uses you like an elevator to his shoulder. She leaps onto him and Dami winces at her claws through his thin t-shirt. “Ow, ow, ow. Thanks for that Sassy Pants, now get off.” He sets Princess back down where she stares at him in betrayal.

“I’m sorry, was having him to yourself all night not enough attention?” You sass her right back with a hand on your hip while Dami laughs. The cat sulks, nimbly returning to the couch and curling up right on his pillow. “Do you see that? She’s the real reason we practice non-monogamy. So I don’t end up with my throat slit in my fucking sleep by her murder mittens!” Hoping to have successfully distracted him, you brush your teeth then slip back into the bedroom to get dressed. In the living room Dami sings to Princess, doing a little dance with her paws. The happy sounds carry through the partially ajar door.

“So, uh…” You’d almost finished pulling on your stockings when he leans against the door frame. “Sorry, am I allowed to look?”

“Yes, you’re allowed to look,” you scoff. He turns the corner just in time to watch your thighs disappear beneath a linen skirt. His lack of objection indicates that your earlier distraction wasn’t effective. He’s not feeling playful.

“What I was saying before is that I never want you to feel bad about putting parameters –”

“Damia, it’s not that.” He’s trying to soften the determination in his expression. “If I allow my rational mind to just slip away then I’m gonna…” again, words evade you “embarrass myself.”

“What do you mean embarrass yourself?” he croons. Damiano walks into the bedroom, cupping your cheek in his right palm. Meanwhile, his left hand slides across your waist and settles on the top of your glute. Another barrage of hidden memories: the early years when Damiano spoke your self-confidence into being fruition on anxiety-ridden mornings.

“I mean grind against your lap or leg or whatever while begging you to fuck me until I sob in a way that’s gonna hurt you to watch. Zero inhibitions as I try to convince you, okay? Just babbling and clinging and tears for your cock. ‘Daddy, my heart hurts because you won’t make love to me.’ I don’t want either of us in a position to navigate that.” Damiano becomes a statue. When it doesn’t immediately pass, you decide to pick a pair of sensible shoes while his brain resets.

“Does your heart hurt for more intimacy?” Now you’re the one frozen in place. “Seems like you may have just accidentally been completely honest with yourself.” Fuck. He was right.

“Could you pretend not to know me as well as you do?”

“No, y/n, I can’t.” You’d tried to lighten the mood, give yourself an out, and he’s rejected that effort wholesale. Damiano stands there, waiting for a real response, hands in the pockets of his pajama pants. Every morning he puts them on, after sleeping in his boxers, to make you comfortable. It suddenly feels so elementary, this game of pretend you’d been playing because you were scared shitless of losing him again. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being a nervous wreck.”

“Being a nervous wreck about what?” You’re taken aback, having expected some sweet platitude like "don't be sorry, sweetheart.” Or perhaps, “You’re trying your best in a tough situation” punctuated by a kiss to the forehead. But you’d finally exhausted his patience and Damiano wasn’t going to feed you reassurances that you already knew to be true.

“About,” you gesture between your bodies “us!”

“Elaborate for me, please. What about us?” His tone isn’t hostile, just insistent.

“Our relationship.”

“Not my sobriety?”

“No…actually.” You’re even more surprised than Dami at that answer.

“Good. Why is our relationship making you a nervous wreck?”

“Because, because…” You feel cornered even though he hasn’t moved an inch. “I’m not sure.”

“Yes you are. You’re constantly reflecting and self-examining, especially recently. Some days you’re more in your head than you are in the world.”

“But the last couple days, I’ve been better at staying in the present. After our fight, I’ve been trying not to walk on eggshells.” 

“And we’ve been so much more connected, which has been fucking incredible. But you’re still unhappy.”

“I’m not…” Were you happy? You should be happy. You have an objectively good job, a beautiful apartment. You have a loving family, loving friends, loving companions. Your soulmate has returned and he’s stable. But were you happy? With a subjectively horrible job, home full of traumatic memories, emotionally unavailable parents, fading friendships, and companions who’s reassurance couldn’t make you feel adequate so you’d stopped asking for it entirely. 

“How many months do I need to go without relapse, without a crazy mood swing, without –”

“To get your dick wet?” You snap at him in anger. This was the definition of pressuring you.

“For you to trust me, y/n!”

“But sex is the way to show that I trust you? Go get laid, Damianno. Stop avoiding your other companions because you’re afraid they won’t forgive your behavior.”

“You get laid. Stop avoiding your companions because they remind you how profound our intimacy could be.” For what feels like an eon, you glare at each other in silence.

“How about we both admit that having sex with other people wouldn’t do anything to fill this…space?” It feels good to concede. Most of the tension leaves the air.

“Void?”

“Void is probably more accurate, yeah.” It’s just enough breathing room for reality to set in. “Fuck, I’m gonna be late for work.” You look around frantically for a hair tie to wrangle your unbrushed hair into an updo.

“Can you please just give this conversation another five minutes of your time?” There's a hair elastic on the floor, by your nightstand. You make a noise of victory, trying to remember if your travel hairbrush was still in the glovebox. “Three minutes?” he pleads. It’s too much. Mentally, you try to check out as an act of self-preservation. In your peripheral vision, Damiano snatches your phone off the bed. You can’t leave without it.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“I’m asking how long until you can trust me?”

“For me to trust you completely?” That gives Dami pause. He seems to realize that it's a pretty big question to spring on you before 9 AM. ”Check the phone you’re holding hostage for the time, please.” So begins the hunt for your purse.

“It’s…” With a strained voice, he looks at the home screen. Then his hand drops to his side. “It doesn’t matter. I am asking you – How about when are you gonna be able to at least trust that I’m not gonna abandon you?” Despite attempts to create space between yourself and this moment, it feels like being stabbed with a dull spear, right through the center of your torso. “Hey!” he finally raises his voice in exhasperation. “Can you at least fucking look at me when I’m bearing my soul to you!?” Both cats are hiding under the kitchen table. Standing in the kitchen, you turn to meet his gaze.

“I’m gonna be late for work.” 

“Then be late! You hate that job anyways!” The shock reads easily on your features.. “I – that was out of line. Sorry. But this is never gonna work right until you trust me.” Your stomach drops. You feel nauseous and something akin to the beginnings of dissociation. This is why you’d been avoiding tough conversations. What if it went wrong? And if it did go wrong, what was going to happen? The ways Damiano had evolved as a person since going to rehab were great, but it also meant that you couldn’t predict his behavior anymore. If he walked out in anger, would he walk back in?

“Baby, that was really bad phrasing on my part.” His tone shifts completely,  soft and doting in the way you’d expected it to be earlier. “Way too extreme.” Dami knew he’d scared you. That took precedence over what he so desperately wanted to achieve with this conversation. You have half a mind to run into his arms. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s gonna make me feel reassured that you won’t abandon me.”

“You don’t know, as in you can’t think of anything?”

“I don’t know!” You curl your hands into tight fists, fingernails digging into the soft flesh of your palms.

“Giving me an answer you regret and take back would be better than this purgatory.” Demand has officially overtaken supply. You’d required so much patience from Dami that it’d burned through all the categorical gratitude he felt for taking him back in any capacity. He was no longer just grateful to be here, he wanted a partner. 

“If your answer is I don’t think I can ever trust you again, so be it.”

“I can trust you! I do trust you, but you’re also…” He’s hanging on to every word and you can’t even craft a basic sentence. “There’s you, but then there’s also an addict you. The first one earned my trust back more easily than I’d care to admit, but the addict you, he – it’s always there.”

“And you can never trust an addict.”

“No! But, but –” The phrase “never gonna work” rattles around in your head. “No, because…because” then we might break-up. You barely think the thought, but it's like a tripwire. Suddenly trapped under all the ways you could lose Damiano. Originally there were two contenders: freak accident and growing apart. Then fame was added to this list, then addiction. Now you had to acknowledge a fifth. Like the fifth side to a cage that can finally hold you captive, invisible to others, making them helpless to do anything but watch the light leave your eyes. He might break-up with you because you couldn’t figure out how to put the pieces back together.

“Hug me.” Damiano crosses the apartment in a few quick steps. The stinging of tears distracts you from returning the embrace, but that doesn't give him pause. The only reason you weren’t blubbering already was how secure he’d made you feel the past few days. Now that was out the window.

“Continuous hugging or do you want room to breathe?”

“Breathe,” you choke, wiping your eyes. Dami’s version of breathing room was taking half a step back and resting both hands on your hips. It was perfect.

“Be brave a little longer,” he coaxes.

“I don’t want us to…God, it’s like saying Voldemort or some shit.”

“The Phrase Which Must Not Be Named that starts with a ‘B’ and ends in the word ‘up?’”

“Yeah, I…No, I don’t even want to talk about it, Damia.”

“That's adorable.” You rest your forehead against his sternum and whine. He cups the base of your head and you loosely cross your arms behind him. “But I do need to know what made you think of The Phrase Which Must Not Be Named.”

“What if,” you resume hugging him instead of finishing the sentence. “What if I can never learn to trust the addict part of you and it happens?”

“I don’t trust the addict part of me, y/n. After everything that’s happened, I sure as shit don’t expect you to.” You pull away in order to look up in confusion. “Awe, sweetheart. I just need you to trust that this part of me has control over that shithead.”

“But relapse happens and – and you’ll always be an addict and an alcoholic. This is permanently a part of you.”

“Can you trust that I’m always gonna do my damndest not to lose control? And if I do I’m gonna find my way back?” 

“It hasn’t even been three weeks.” Dami opens his mouth, closes it, and nods.

“Yeah thats a fucking good point. Damn.” He’s reeling. It’s interesting to see it happen to someone else. “I’m over here fuckin’...demanding to know when you’re gonna trust me again when I haven’t even given you a full month of stability.” You place a hand on Dami’s cheek, trying to redirect his gaze back to yours so he doesn’t get lost in self-loathing. He turns his head, but looks down. “I’m fucking comparing ‘well, I feel this way about her so –’”

“How do you feel about me?” His eyes flit up and you think the romantic in him might win.

“I feel the same way.” Or not. “Because it's easy to fall in love with somebody again and trust them again when they’re the same person. When they don’t have all this new baggage like I do.” Staring at his feet, Damiano mutters, “Nothing to compensate or…”

“You do not need to compensate, what a ridiculous thing to say!” 

“Okay.” You watch him only partially internalize your words, in the same way he raises his eyes, but doesn’t quite look at you.

“Hey, you getting sober created new character traits that I love and am attracted to.”

“Enough to balance out the shit?” You scoff, taken aback.

“Yes! You’re not a fucking equation, Damia. You are a beautiful, compelling man who contains multitudes with this incredible capacity to create multitudes. Don’t separate yourself into these categories of worthwhile or not worthwhile.”

“Y/n.”

“It’s so linear. You’re reduced to a collection of likable traits when –”

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he announces. You allow yourself to be pulled in by the back of the head, eyes falling to his mauve, shapely lips. It’s sweet, slow, polite. It’s a gesture. It’s a this-kiss-conveys-my-love-and-respect-because-it's-not-the-kiss-I-wanted-to-give-you gesture. It’s a gesture that reveals he’s forgotten the comment you made earlier this morning.

“Lets,” one syllable and you feel short of breath. “Let's have the big scary talk tonight – tomorrow night! Let's have it tomorrow night.”

“Alright.” Damiano coaxes you back in by holding your chin and brushing his pointer finger back and forth. It tickles faintly and makes you smile into the equally chaste kiss. “Don’t forget, you have therapy today.”

***

“I’m only here to avoid the missed appointment fee, honestly.” You slouch, as if trying to disappear into the chartreuse loveseat. 

“Oh?” Your therapist puts pen to paper and waits for elaboration. You stare at the floor and feel the pressure of tears behind your eyes. It's been like that since leaving the apartment, as though you were one inconvenience away from crying.

“Your disposition is certainly much different from our recent sessions.” Dr. Borough gives you another chance to speak, which you don’t take. She’s wearing all beige, minus an oversized necklace of reflective black beads. The color palette certainly suits the mood.

“Is it Damiano, work, anxiety that's been weighing on you?”

“All of the above.” After arriving 13 minutes late for work, Izolda called you into her stuffy, windowless office. She chastised you for being tardy twice in two weeks and you didn’t have the balls to point out that she’d personally excused the first instance. There were vague references to your performance review and callous comments about “allowing personal experiences to impede project outcomes.”

“Wow. So it's been a tough week?”

“It’s been emotionally laborious…So, yeah. Tough, I guess.”

“But productive?”

“Not when it comes to my job. That place is so devoid of humanity that I can feel part of my soul dying.”

“Sounds like you might need a change. Have you tried searching for –”

“I can’t handle a career change right now!”

“So what can you handle?” Finally, you burst into tears. “Oh, dear.” Dr. Borough pushes the box of tissues across the coffee table. “So what's going on in the other facets of your life? Are you and Damiano on good terms?”

“Yeah. He woke me up with espresso this morning, it was really sweet.” You wipe your face, which leaves a black smudge of hastily applied mascara on the white tissue.  

“And his sobriety?”

“He relapsed trying to reintegrate too fast. It was just booze and he’s been sober since.”

“Wow.” She scribbles on her notepad. “So that must have been triggering.”

“It…It actually made me realize how sturdy he is. Like, he got right back on the wagon and he started really acting like himself the next morning. He didn’t go back to being an asshole with a passive death wish, he did the opposite.”

“So that sounds like great news!”

“I was such a mess, such a fucking mess.” The note taking intensifies. Somehow Dr. Borough is already halfway down the page. “He was so supportive! And he basically confronted me.”

“You mean comforted?”

“No. Well, yes. He’s noticed that I’m always in my head, trying to figure out the correct or most true course of action. And he said I didn’t need to be, because I wasn’t going to ruin his sobriety. Because he was taking care of his sobriety with a bunch of people at his rehab and stuff, so I didn’t need to prioritize it anymore. I could just prioritize myself and I could depend on him because he’s gotten to a point where he can be my support and also stay sober. But I –” you devolve into sobbing.

“Alright, take a moment. Just take a moment, y/n.” Dr. Borough doesn’t look up from her notepad for several seconds. “So, that's huge! How many days ago was that? You must be emotionally drained.”

“Yeah, from not dealing with it.”

“You’re emotionally drained from purposefully ignoring emotions?”

“Basically.” 

“Alright.” Visibly processing, Dr. Borough adjusts her teal glasses and sits back. “Tell me about that.”

“Damiano just keeps pressing the issue. He wants to deconstruct and cross-examine the whole fucking situation immediately.” 

“Is this usually the case, him pursuing hard conversations and you avoiding? In the past, you’ve mentioned having great communication.” It feels like an accusation that you’ve failed Damiano somehow.

“No, I’m just not ready.”

“Ready for what?” 

“These fucking exhausting, weighty conversations!”

“What about them are you not ready for? In my experience, you can be very articulate, especially when it comes to emotions.”

“I’m not scared of talking about our feelings. We talk about our feelings all the time, anyways. I’m not even scared of conflict. We’ve fought twice this week already!”

“Oh, really?”

“But we work it out because we can admit that we’re wrong. We don’t get off on resenting or controlling each other.”

“What were those fights about?”

“This! Me!”

“You?”

“Ugh!” You throw your head back and groan. “He…thinks that I’m unhappy. I’m making myself miserable trying to do the right thing or by trying to control…something, us.”

“The right thing?” She raises one thinning eyebrow. 

“What's best for me.”

“Doing what's best for you is doing what makes you happy. It’s doing what makes you fulfilled, puts you on the path to achieve your goals.” Dr. Borough pauses, staring at you pointedly. “In terms of Damiano. What are your goals? What will make you fulfilled?”

“Being together for real, harmonious, mind, body, and soul.”

“And are your current choices facilitating that?” You feel claustrophobic, fingernails digging into the heel of your hand again. “Why the anxiety?” 

“Because I can’t control him!”

“True. But that’s always been true, y/n.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter what my goals are if the other person doesn’t feel the same.”

“You think Damiano doesn’t feel the same?”

“Well, no. I know he does.”

“Alright. So let's talk about this desire to control him.” That definitely felt like an accusation. “I just watched you have a strong reaction. Why don’t you explain that to me.” Pen to paper, Dr. Borough waits while you roll your eyes and huff in annoyance.

“Before I ever stepped foot in this office, I knew that the desire to control another person was toxic. I was already taking steps to ignore that desire when I felt it.”

“So you’re not trying to control him? That's not what's making you miserable?”

“I’m not miserable,” you bite.

“No, you’re not,” she agrees. “But you are experiencing bouts of unhappiness, like right now. You also have clinical anxiety which constantly affects your quality of life. Agreed?”

“Yeah…” The section of carpet at your feet is more worn than another other spot in the room.

“Explain to me why that is.” You choose to be insolent instead of introspective. 

“It’s impossible to tack down exactly what collection of innate and external factors contribute to any one person developing –”

“Not the anxiety, y/n.”

“I…” don’t know. But Dr. Borough wasn’t going to let you off the hook. She waits expectantly. You check the clock to find that the session isn’t quite halfway done. Damn it.

“Why are you unhappy?”

“I’m at my therapy appointment when I’d much rather be taking a nap.”

“How has your sleep been since Damiano’s relapse?”

“Worse than usual, better than expected. We…”

“Yes?”

“Don’t judge me, but the night he relapsed we slept in the same bed. Like, I slept with him on the couch.”

“‘Slept with’ as in…?”

“Cuddled.” You blush all the way up to your ears.

“And that was enjoyable.” It’s apparently obvious from your delivery since Dr. Borough makes a statement, not a question.

“Yeah and…I could hear him crying so hard. I didn’t intend to spend the night there either, but I got sleepy really quick.” A stinging sensation alerts that you’d been picking at your cuticles without realizing. “Because it felt so safe.”

“Huh. So it didn’t feel like the kiss on the plane?”

“No, not at all.”

“Then why are you unhappy?” You glower, finally meeting Dr. Borough’s eyes. She is unfazed. “Damiano has the same relationship goals and it sounds as though he may be ready to act on those goals, right?” You don’t protest, because she’s correct, but you also don’t concede. “So this should be great news! It’s exactly what you wanted, which is why this reaction raises questions. I know it’ll be hard to admit, but maybe now that you have Damiano back, you’ve realized that your feelings towards him have changed.”

“What? No! God, I fucking wish I felt more casually about him. I wish that he couldn’t read my mind and that we didn’t have this fucking soul bond and that I could have a halfway satisfying sex life without him. I want to stop watching him sleep, getting choked up when I see his bougie shampoo in the shower, huffing his dirty gym clothes, and feeling like my heart’s been ripped out because I love him so much. I want to be less in love with him!”

“No, you don’t.” Dr. Borough sets the notepad and pen on her lap and settles into her chair with a smile. There’s been some sort of breakthrough or resolution reached. “So what's the real reason you’re self-sabotaging? Do you feel like you don’t deserve him?”

“I…guess.”

“Don’t guess.”

“Deep down inside somewhere, probably.”

“So is that it?”

“You’re the therapist.”

“And you’re far from emotionally repressed.” Dr. Borough purses her lips and squints. “So are you afraid of losing him?” You swallow hard, vision blurring with tears.

“Yes, of course. Now with these fucking high stakes conversations, what if something goes wrong?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Anything!”

“Based on what you've said so far, it sounds like you guys would work it out.”

“What if we break up?”

“Does it feel like you’re going to break up?”

“No.” You blow your nose and steel yourself. “I need him. I’ve let myself need him again. So I can’t, ca – can’t lose hi – him again. I can’t! It’ll fucking kill me. I don’t care if you think that's dramatic, because it genuinely feels like I’d die of heartbreak. Even thinking a – about it, can’t – I ca – ca –can’t breathe!” Dr. Borough ends up talking you off the edge of a panic attack. You think that’ll earn some slack, but it doesn’t. 

“Okay, so just take small sips of water.” She uses her most soothing voice as you hold the paper cup in a trembling hand. “I’m going to be candid with you, y/n. Breaking up has always been a possibility and you’ve functioned despite it for years. Damiano dying of an overdose, however, is new. I think that’s what’s scaring you, the fact that death is irreparable.” You manage a nod. “Alright. That risk factor is never going away. So you have to decide if he’s worth it.”

“Of course he’s…” It's reminiscent of what Dami said this morning, which forces you to acknowledge that he was probably right. Putting the pieces back together was going to feel terrifying and you had to do it anyway. “I have all these rules to stop things from progressing before I’m ready. But maybe I’m never going to feel ready.”

“Progressing?”

“To stop Dami from getting too close, from things getting too intimate. I compartmentalized so damn much and I…every time I let him a little bit closer, it's like being hit by a semi-truck.”

“Reminders of his substance abuse?”

“No, beautiful memories of how our love manifested, all the ways we connected and felt at home in each other, felt profoundly understood. Memories of being joyous and intimate and becoming better people together.” Dr. Borough is noticeably moved. 

“You choose to close yourself off to that because of the possibility of pain?” 

“Yes!”

“That’s not living.” Finally, someone had just outright said it. You should feel stunned, but you don’t. “We’ve talked about living versus surviving in terms of your anxiety. The same can happen after trauma. Seeing Dami on life support –”

“Haven’t we already talked about that enough?” Reflexively, you make yourself smaller, hunkering down to survive this horrendous topic.

“I don’t know. Based on this reaction –”

“Based on this reaction, seeing my soulmate an inch from death is still traumatic? Shocking!”

“Traumatic, absolutely.” The even tonality of her speech is an embarrassing juxtaposition to your reactivity, but you’re still unable to quell it. “And based on your reaction, that memory still holds tremendous power over you.”

“Of fucking course it does! I still can’t even think about it like a real thing that happened to me!”

“I recall you’ve been dealing with a lot of dissociation, recently. More than usual.” Dr. Borough resumes note taking.

“Yes.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Because I can’t handle what's happening around me,” you reply, monotonously.

“You think you can’t handle what's happening around you because a parentified, 15-year-old y/n without an emotional support system couldn’t handle it.” She pauses. In that space, tears blur your vision until the view of the damaged carpet and scuffed shoes becomes indiscernible. “But now you have an emotional support system. You are deserving of an emotional support system, which is something that your parents failed to model in your childhood.” Again, Dr. Borough gives you space to speak, but you curl into a ball, instead. She nudges the tissues further across the table with an empathetic expression. “So you’re protecting her.”

“I am not protecting my mother,” you grumble.

“Not your mother. You’ve been protecting 15-year-old y/n, shielding her. And now you’re protecting the y/n who was confronted by the mortality of her support system’s keystone. Neither of them could handle the present moment, but you can.” Dr. Borough cleans her glasses while waiting for you to say something. Maybe it's an intentional respite from being examined.

“What – How can –” your first reaction is to splutter incredulously. “I’m not, I mean I’m – That's just human development, isn’t it? Burning your hand on the stove teaches you not to touch a hot stove. Burns are bad. They scar, they get infected.”

“Y/n, you are not avoiding a burn. You are eating takeout for every meal to avoid going in the kitchen at all. You are putting on noise canceling headphones everytime someone says the word ‘stove’ and singing to yourself loudly. In this metaphor –”

“I get it, I get it.” Well, shit.

“You’ve heard me say this before: the anxiety, the trauma isn’t your fault. However, coping constructively is still your responsibility. And, yes, that’s unfair. You had to live for your emotionally unequipped parents. In reaction to that hospital visit, I think you may have done a bit of living for Damiano when he was emotionally unequipped for sobriety. Now you’re living for the versions of yourself that are emotionally unequipped to handle the present. But it won’t break you like it might have then.”

“How can you know that!? How…I just want time to recover! I want to be certain!”

“There will never be certainty and there will never be a pause button. I know that's a really hard reality to face with clinical anxiety.” Dr. Borough sets her elbows on her notepad and leans forward. “But y/n, face it you must.”

***

You hold it together on the drive home. Knowing that Dami will be on a Zoom call with his songwriting and production team, you don’t want to walk through the front door a mess and distract him. Unfortunately, Spotify decides to play Folklore-era Taylor Swift as you pull into the parking garage.

I knew you/Hand under my sweatshirt/Baby, kiss it better

By the time the car is parked, you’re already crying. Your first group outing as a couple was a Roma football game with most of his friends and several cousins. The omnipresent barrage of screaming made your ears ring and triggered a panic attack. You tried to suppress your reaction, for which you’d finally receive a diagnosis just weeks later. When that became impossible, you settled on concealing your emotions until it passed. Just don’t freak out. For fucks sake, don’t embaress yourself. 

Having turned your focus inward, the roar of the audience was a surprise and so inescapably loud that it couldn’t even be described by volume. The sound became a tangible force, beating you over the head. So you fled, hands clamped over your ears, tears flowing. It seemed like every person you passed chided you. 

“‘Msorry, ‘msorry, ‘msorry, ‘msorry, ‘msorry,” you repeated, voice frail and high-pitched with terror. The adrenaline at least made climbing all those steps easier. Upon reaching the hallway at the top of the staircase, you turned around to scan the field, determining it was a good time to drop your hands. That's when you saw 18-year-old Damiano huffing and puffing, all focus dropped from the game behind him. 

“Hey,” he panted, expression confused. “Hey, you just…Are you okay?” You shook your head, mouth contorted into an ugly shape. “Well, come here, baby.” Dami opened his arms like it was obviously the next logical step to hold you. The gesture revealed that he’d remembered your purse and was wearing it. You could have blurted out “I love you,” right then and there. His sparkling, empathetic eyes framed by smeared eyeliner, outstretched hands decorated by gaudy rings, and wearing his lucky sneakers which were at least a size too small. A couple middle-aged, balding men looked him up and down in disgust. Dami didn’t even notice.

“You need a hug,’ he decided, wrapping you up. 

“Thanks,” you croaked, trembling arms finding steadiness where they held him. 

“What’s wrong with her?” asked a male voice passing by.

“Nothings wrong with her! Who the fuck are you, eh?”

“Sorry, man.”

“No, who the fuck do you think you are saying that?”

“You’re in the middle of the walkway, dude.”

“And you’re in the middle of my fucking business, asshole!”

“Damia,” you murmured.

“Sorry, sorry.” You wondered if he could discern your smile against his pilling jersey. The fabric made your face feel raw after exposure to the ruthlessly cold gusts of wind that swept up the sides of the stadium. Still, you felt compelled to hug him tighter, but ignored the compulsion so as not to encourage Damiano acting like an attack dog. But fuck if it hadn’t made you feel chosen at age 18, coming from a family who’s attitude was god forbid your emotions inconvenience anyone. 

Damiano didn’t think you were too emotional, the girl choking on her own tears over a football audience being predictably loud. He stood in the stadium’s walkway, inconveniencing everyone else to prioritize comforting you. Despite not knowing what was awry, he still managed to be soothing. Dami’s inexplicably warm hands rubbed your back under the Roma sweatshirt you wore – actually his, of course. He hummed music from the radio with a cheek pressed to your head and you subsequently felt the music’s vibrations. It tickled. An unfamiliar sensation burgeoned in the darkest recesses of your heart. Not then, but eventually, you’d come to know it as stillness.

Notes: Don't yell at me I warned you! Also I'll post the next part (the smuttastic part) when this post has 40 notes hehe

-XOXO Eden

✧ The Sun is the Center of Everything Table of Contents

✧ My Masterlist

✧ Get notified via Taglist!

 @surelyfreedombound @shinshans @lonnybunnys @davianos-blog @hauntedpostpersona @lizzylynch1 @kammerstx @harryssshouseee @slavicgoddess13 @persona1read1ng @katyldamusic @whore4damia @the-chaotic-cow @icarodamiano @gr8rainbowpunk @elvirabelle @bright-shiningstar @maneslut @stardustingold @que--sera--sera @dustyinkpages @lapauradelcheez @girlnred @ami--gami @guksunshine @cuzimitaliano @harmonia-dread @soundscuntfeelscunt @tellmesomething01 @kazzledazzle-s1d3

*@mrschrissturniolo can't tag you babe! check if your blog is hidden

#maneskin #måneskin #damiano david #må #damiano #damiano maneskin #maneskin damiano #damiano david x reader #damiano david fanfiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x y/n #damiano david x you #damiano david smut #damiano david fic #damiano x reader

[nonvaleniente]

From Fx to a D // Professor Damiano AU! x Fem! Reader

Pairing: Damiano x reader

Summary: Y/N was never good at learning foreign languages. It got even harder when the most handsome man she has ever seen started teaching her Italian class and got her distracted all the time. He seemingly noticed her interest in him and one trip to the library lead into something more interesting...

Warnings: SWEARING, SMUT, PUBLIC SEX, UNI TEACHER-STUDENT RELATIONSHIP, PROBABLY INCORRECT ITALIAN WORDS/PHRASES (I used Google translate because I am too embarrased to ask my italian learning friends to help me with smut lol), ALSO BARELY PROOFREAD BC I AM STUPID AND NEED TO RUSH THINGS

Y/F/N - your friend's name

Y/L/N - your last name

IT IS FINALLY HERE!

Yes, I promised it would come out on Monday but I literally cannot grasp the concept of time. Managing it is really something I need to work on. But I hope no one is that mad at me. Now, let's enjoy this trip to horny-town, shall we?

ENJOY!

Don't forget to leave any sort of feedback and reblog if you like it!

You couldn't keep your eyes off him.

You weren't able since the first day of last semester. When he walked through the door, his messy hair and white shirt with few buttons undone on the top, you knew you were screwed. He looked like a roman god. Straight out of historical romance novels. The perfect little stubble showing on his face made your mind wander off many times. Wondering, how would it feel scratching against your thighs, with him between them. Oh, how many nights you thought about him leading you to the professors' lounge and after closing the door, slamming you against them and not having any mercy.

You had no chance.

You had to keep reminding yourself to get out of these little daydreams. To actually pay attention to his words, you had to fight yourself every Tuesday afternoon. You were never that good at Italian and ever since this distraction in a human form walked into your life, it got even harder. Hell, if some higher powers weren't in your favour, you probably would have been out of this school already. But to have the chance to keep looking at this man, that was a motivation for you to at least pass.

The silence all around pulled you out of your thoughts. Upon realising that everyone was staring your direction, you turned your head up. There he was, looking at you. Patiently waiting for your answer to the question he had previously asked.

After a few seconds, which felt like eternity, he gave you a smile and moved on to get the answer from someone else. You started blushing from the embarrasment. Your friend sitting next to you noticed and playfully hit you with her elbow, while raising a brow at you. She obviously knew about this little crush and always made jokes about how the two of you should just get a room already. You always rolled your eyes, knowing deep down thats what you wish for.

The next round of questions started and you saw your teacher going down the line, all of your classmates answering one by one. When you knew it would be your turn next, your heart began racing.          You were quickly counting through the questions, to see which you would have to answer, so you wouldn't embarass yourself even more.

„Signorina Y/L/N, domanda numero 6, perfavore.“

He set his hand on the table in front of you, supporting his body weight as he was leaning a little bit. Tattoos peaking from under his rolled sleeves, you had to push away the sinful thoughts once again.

You looked up at him, trying not to stumble over your words.

„Domanda numero 6? La ri-risposta corrette è b: il fiume,“ you quickly got out of yourself, while feeling the sweat dripping down your body.

„Corretta, not corrette, Y/N, otherwise, good enough,“ he switched to english now, and you earned yourself another sweet smile from him. You were glad that you finally got something right but also that the torture was almost to be over for another week or so.

After Y/F/N answered her question, he decided to finish the lesson, as an hour and half already passed.

„Alright guys, let's wrap it up. You dont get any homework, as there is going to be the test I already told you about next week, so you better study hard,“ he paused, as  everyone started getting up from their chairs already, making a lot of noise as they were packing up their belongings.

„And...,“ he raised his voice.

„...don't forget to lend the book Compiti Italiani 2, it can seriously help you.“ He finished the class by picking all of his books up, walking towards the door.  He let everyone pass through, before walking out of the class himself.

You and Y/F/N said your goodbyes and each went different ways. Yours lead to the library.

Your teacher semeed to be following the same path.

//

Upon arriving to the library door, you noticed that it seemed to be closed. You couldn't see people moving inside, not even the librarian. It seemed quite unusual that the library would be closed at this time, it was usually opened everyday until 18:00. It was barely 16:00.

You shook the handle and checked for the opening hours sign, just to be sure.

The sign was showing exactly what you thought.

It was still closed though.

You weren't happy about the situation but there was nothing you could do, so you decided to go home. As you turned away, you started rambling through your tote bag. It was always full of things and you could never find your wireless headphones. You were slowly walking, crunched to the side, still picking on random things, to find the plastic box. As you took a few more steps, you noticed a figure in front of you.

Upon turning your head up, you noticed your handsome italian professor standing there. He was playing with a set of keys, turning them at their hoop around his fingers.

„Exemplary student, I see. Running to borrow the book I mentioned straight after the class,“

He smiled, while slowly walking towards you. Your heart started pounding, but thanfully, he just passed you to get to the door.

„I didn't know you're in charge of the library, Mr. David. Where is Mrs. Andrews?“ you were geniuenly curious.

While trying to unlock the door, he turned his body halfway to face you.

„She is still in charge of the library, but I volunteered to take her place when she has to bring her daughter for a checkup at the doctor, which is every other week at this time. You know, I get credits for it and it's not that hard of a job,really.“

You almost forgot that he was just a student like you. The only difference is that he was currently working on his Doctorate degree and in order to achieve it, he had to teach some classes as well. Credits were definitely something good to have more of.

When he finally got the door unlocked, he made his way behind them. Holding them open with one hand, gesturing for you to come through with the other.

As you marched foward, you felt his eyes looking you up and down. While walking over the threshold, you heard his voice behind you.

„And outside of the class, it's Damiano for you.“

Did he really just suggest for you to call him by his first name?  

You quickly gave him a smile while speeding your walk to get to the shelves, so you can look for the books you need and get the hell out of there.

//

Soon, a few more people started coming through the door. They were sitting down to study or simply trying to find the books they want. It was taking you surprisingly long time to get to the titles you were looking for to help with your school work, but you didnt want to ask your teacher, you would rather die on the spot.

You spent a good 10 minutes going slowly over the section of letter „C,“ but didnt see any copies of the Italian book left. Thinking your classmates already took all of them, you were slowly losing hope. You slid over to the frame on the right, moving on to find a book for your sociology finals.

Scanning the shelves with your eyes, looking for the letter „S,“ the dark figure appeared next to you once again.

„Need any help?“ he asked you generously.

Oh well, you didn't want to ask him at first. But since he was already standing there, you decided to give it a shot.

„Maybe.“

He started walking away from you, signaling you to also leave the cubicle made out of shelves.

„Well, maybe Compiti italiani is in a different section, you're not in the language department, signorina.“

You were following him to the other side of the library, but this comment made you pause for a split second and roll your eyes. He was following you to the cubicle in the furthest corner of the room. You really just wanted to get this over with and come back the next day, when the usual librarian would be back.

Then, Damiano, as he asked you to call him, walked between the two giant shelves and you kept following him. Stopping in front of the middle one, you started scanning the section of the letter C once again.

„Thank you, I can handle from now on.“

Something didn't seem right as he didn't leave after what you just told him. In fact, he got even closer. You didn't know if you were scared, purely annoyed or even a little bit aroused. You just barely got to notice that the books on the shelves were about history, when he turned you around in one swift movement. You dropped your bag on the ground in a response, hoping your glass water bottle didn't shatter.

He pinned you against one of the book cases, roughly holding your hands above your head.

„And maybe, I lied about the book being here,“ he smiled at you while intertwining his hands with yours.  He started placing a few kisses on your neck, leaving you in complete state of shock.

„What is going on?“ you were trying to get an answer while holding in a moan.

„Shhhh, we're in a library, remember?“ he commented between the kisses. „a bad student like you needs to be put in her place.“

You were fighting the urge that was growing inside of you and weakly tried to push him off. He looked at you, worried, waiting for explanation.

„So you do this with all of the students who get bad marks in your classes?“

„No, just the ones who eyefuck me basically every lesson. C'mon, michetta, you are so desperate for me, I can see it.“

You were practically melting at his words. As pinky blush started appearing on your face, you were trembling. Of course, you wanted him, you would give up anything to have this man fuck you. But in this situation, you were a bit confused.

As the adrenaline kicked in, you reached out your shaking hands and pulled him back to you by his arms. He had this suggestive smile on his face and you knew very well that he had unspeakable intentions. You reached your neck up and got your mouth close to his ear.

„Well then, fuck some of the italian into me, Damiano.“

„Volentieri“ he winked at you and finally pressed his mouth against yours. You kissed back as one of your hands made its way out of his grip. It trailed into the back of his head, carefully caressing his hair. You finally had the chance to fully give in and pushed your tongue even further into his mouth.

Damiano started leaving little trail of kisses from your mouth, traveling down your cheeks and chin. Finding his way to your neck again, he was bitting on little bits of your skin, which made a moan escape your mouth involuntarily. He quickly put a hand over your mouth, so students in the front wouldnt hear you.

He hiked one of your leg sup to his torso, which made you automatically wrap it around him. Sliding his hand up your thigh, he found his way towards your underwear. He brushed his fingertips right between the outline of your labia, feeling the increasing wetness in your panties. You felt a little laugh against your neck.

„Do you leave my class this wet every week? Or is it just the thought of me fucking you in a place we shouldn't that has gotten you so excited?“ he looked deep into your eyes while still caressing you through the soaking fabric. Not giving you time to respond, he leaned in to slip his tongue into your mouth once again. He let go of your leg and his hand trailed up to the hem of your panties, pulling them down. He bent over, taking them off completely and putting them in the pocket of his blazer afterwards.

„We'll see if you're good enough of a girl to get them back after this,“ he said with a hint of arrogance in his tone.

This got you so worked up, making you want to show how well you can behave for him. You grabbed the man by his shoulder, turning him around, so he's the one leaning against the book casing. Almost smashing him against it, he let out a silent suggestive grin. It seemed like he could read your mind, knowing about your plans. You dropped to your knees in front of him, trying not to lose any eye contact. Reaching hands to his belt, you tried to unbuckle it fast so you could get what you wanted. Unfortunately, the belt had no intention of coming undone. Upon seeing you struggle, Damiano finally put you out of your misery by helping you.

Once the brown belt around his pants and his zipper were open, you pulled them down to his ankles. This action left you with his intense boner showing right through his boxers in front of your face. It has taken you back to the many nights you imagined getting this view. Kneeling in front of the man built finer than any renaissance building in Rome. Ready to take him all in, it really felt like you're dreaming.

His boxers finally joined the pants down at his feet and you were left with a view that you never had before. He wasn't the biggest in the world, but still way bigger youve ever seen in your life. For a second, you were worried if you would even be able to fit him all in your mouth.

But what better way to find out than give it a try, right?

The question followed your worries and you dived straight in. You gave him a last good look up, seeing him waiting in anticipation. Grabbing his lenght with your right hand, you immediately realised you needed some kind of lubrication. You spat right on his tip and smeared it all over, which quickly turned into giving him slow strokes. This has already earned you an expression  from him, being interested in what youll do next. You started picking up the pace, trying hard not to make the sloppy sound. Your hand was sliding up and down, getting faster and you were joyfully looking at his face in pure bliss. You decided to give him a little bit more of a show and quickly switched the hand for your mouth.

„Cazzo.“

Going at the same tempo as before finally got a moan out of him that he was struggling to hold in for so long. Hearing him speak in italian had some kind of effect on you and you started to feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter. You were speeding up, jerking your lips around his cock as fast as you could. Damiano was definitely enjoying it, fighting himself not to be any louder. You wanted to finally have him inside of you, so you took a next step.

Stopping this activity, you reached for your bag that you previously dropped onto the ground. After ramaging through all of your belongings, you found the condom you have thrown in a few months ago „just in case.“

„Always prepared to get fucked but rarely for an italian exam, I see,“ he smiled at you.

„You know, I'm naturally talented at the first option. The second one? Not so much.“

You took the condom out of it's wrapper and carefully rolled it out on his cock. When you got up from the ground, you immediately found yourself pressed against the wall once again. Damiano wasted no time, passionately kissing you. This time, he wrapped the leg around his core himself.

„Let's see if youre right about that, bella.“

He roughly pushed himself into you, which made some of the shelves shake. There was no adjusting period, he was pounding you at the speed of light. This tempo made you light headed, you were rolling your eyes back. There was clearly sweating rolling down his face, which made you aroused even more. You still couldnt believe this was happening but tried to be present in the time and place. You were whinning, practically melting into his body as he was fucking you. He reached his hand to shut your mouth once again.

„How I wish you could scream my name right now, begging me to fuck you harder. Unfortunately, bad girls like you have to be quiet because they can't learn their fucking lesson.“

In one swift movement, he turned you around, forcing you to bend over. With one of his hands still on your mouth and the other hiking your skirt up, he entered you from behind. You let out a muffled moan against his palm, as you felt him deep inside of you. Your walls clenching around his cock made him seem short of breath. He was pounding you while being completely pressed against you. You were slowly losing yourself to him.

He moved the hand from your back to your cunt. Without warning, he started rubbing your clit fast, matching the speed of his thrusts. You were being tipped over the edge and it seemed like he knew that you were getting close.

„Sborra per me, puttana,“ he growled at you in italian. Although you didn't understand, it was the last push you needed. This killer combination made you come undone with another muffled cry.

You felt a few more thrusts until he came himself, his whole body shaking into you.

When you were both done, you stayed in your place for a minute, just catching your breath and processing whatever just happened. You were absolutely in bliss after this scenario, which seemed like cropped out of your pornsite search history. It has definitely taught you a lesson or two, but you maybe didnt want to admit it to him.

You heard his pants buckled behind you, so you finally decided to face him. He still looked great, if not better, with messy hair and his shirt all creased up.

„Well, you definetely got a part of italian fucked into you. Was that enough for you to start studying for my lessons or do you want to fail, so you can keep on salivating in my classes?“

„I admit, it made me rethink my past decisions, but also if I wasn't bad at learning foreign languages, I wouldn't have a gorgeous  italian man fucking me in the back of a library, so I guess it was fine after all.“

You grinned at him, sticking your tongue out.

He pulled you closer to him by your waist, passionately kissing you one more time.

„What if I keep fucking you, maybe in my place or yours, and we might get to some tutoring in between, hm?“ he raised an eyebrow suggestively.

„Sounds like a deal to me.“

You quickly collected yourself, grabbing your bag off the ground, straightening your skirt down. Soon you realised that you had no underwear on.

„Do I get my panties back, please?“ you looked to Damiano one more time.

He just giggled and shook his head.

„When you pass my class, at least with the D mark, you can have your underwear back.“

He immediately walked off, heading towards the front of the library. You also got out of the cubicle, burning up with embarrasment. You really didn't want anyone to think youre sleeping your way to a better grade. On the other hand, you were still so happy about what just happened that you didnt want to care about other people.

Seemingly, there were only two students left, both with headphones on. Looked like film majors editing their final projects so there was a low chance they heard anything.

You made your way to the door, as Damiano was already behind the librarians desk. As you were about to pass through, he jogged around the table to quickly get to you.

„Not even saying goodbye to your teacher? That is rude,Y/N“ he frowned  his face at you. You playfully hit him into his arm.

  „Well, Mr. David, you didn't seem to care about 'rude' when you were fucking one of your students in the school building, but let's talk about that later, shall we?“

He bit his tongue and smiled at you. After that, he handed you a piece of paper with his number and adress on it. It also said „TUTORING“ on top, which made you smile as well.

You nodded your head and waved to him, knowing you couldn't kiss him goodbye, as there were already two sets of eyes on you. You just dissapeared through the door frame and went your own way.

Replaying of the scene that just occured in the library didn't stop in your head until you fell asleep, thinking about the right time to call him about your first tutoring session.

#maneskin #måneskin #damiano david #maneskin smut #maneskin fic #maneskin fanfiction #damiano david smut #damiano david fanfiction #maneskin imagine #damiano david fic #professor au!

[abiiors]

Can i request more Damiano David angst please? 😅🥺

Hey, thanks for the ask! I hope you like it :)

Consolation Prize // D.D.

Damiano David x Reader

Warnings: Minors dni, it’s an FWB situation so it’s 18+, he’s a bit of an asshole in this one. Also just angst with no happy ending.

Word Count: 1k

A/N: I didn’t mean to rhyme the last lines but I’m happy about the coincidence. Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated :)

Masterlist

There’s a voice in your head screaming at you to not do it. Yet as another knock sounds at the door, your feet carry you involuntarily. You know who it is, there’s no need to peep through the keyhole but you can’t resist it. You can’t resist taking this one glimpse at him before he’s inevitably going to break your heart again. 

‘Hi,’ you greet as you open to door. ‘Come in.’

This has become routine at this point—Damiano texts “U up?”. You tell yourself to ignore the message, to blow him off with some excuse, yet every single time you cave just as the second text comes in. 

‘Hey, baby,’ he greets in return, presses a rough kiss on your mouth. 

You used to dream of these kisses, dream of his mouth on every single inch of your body. You even imagined the gentleness of them once. But whatever this is—being fuck buddies, friends with benefits, whatever you want to call it—this has slowly sucked the life out of those dreams. 

Yet you can’t stop going back to him. 

‘You’re thinking about something,’ he frowns and for a moment his voice is laced with genuine concern. ‘Are you not in the mood? You know we can always reschedule this,’ he points between the two of you. 

A hysterical laugh bubbles up in your chest and you have to actually turn around to get a hold of yourself. Reschedule this as if it’s just another appointment; clinical and unavoidable. 

‘No no,’ you smile at him and hope he doesn’t notice your dead eyes. ‘Work has been a bit stressful lately, that’s all.’ 

It’s an easy lie and you know he’ll never question it. He hardly knows what you do for work, there’s a one-in-a-million chance he’ll actually want to know what’s stressing you out at your job. 

‘Well then,’ he grins, ‘you know what’s good for stress.’

And that’s how it starts this time. He trails kisses down your neck, makes his way down to your cleavage and tries to leave a few hickeys there. You close your eyes and imagine a different reality—one where he mumbles I love you after each kiss, one where he tells you how obsessed he is with you, how he can’t keep his hands off you. One where he’s so gentle with you that you might as well be made of glass. 

But that’s not what this is. Damiano has always been very clear about what this is. 

You’ve got the motions of this memorised. You take each other’s clothes off; leave a trail of them to the bedroom. Despite the maelstrom of thoughts in your head, your body betrays you again and again. It always reacts to his touch, always craves more of him. It wants him never to let go.

But there’s always a ghost in the room; the spectre that is “the other woman”. He thinks you’re unaware of her but lately, it seems you’ve spent more time thinking about her than you’ve thinking about him. He longs for her, you long for him and yet you can’t let go.

Is she the other woman? A voice chides in your head and you fake a moan to cover up the gasp. 

Even when he’s buried inside you, you know you’re not the one he’s thinking about. You’re never the one he’s thinking about; it’s always her, it’s always been her. But he can’t get her, so his consolation prize is you. 

Even when his face is tucked in the crook of your neck, it’s her body he’s dreaming of. Only a fool wouldn’t notice how her name is always on the tip of his tongue, just fighting to get out. 

‘Dami?’ you ask once you lay side-by-side, panting and catching your breath, ‘will you stay the night?’

His eyes widen a bit and then he laughs awkwardly. ‘You know I can’t, baby. I’ve got, uh…Thomas wants to show me something.’

‘Of course,’ you smile. 

It’s always Thomas or Ethan or Vic, it’s never you though. He makes a move to get out of bed and suddenly you’re hit with a barrel of conflicting feelings. 

You want him gone. You want to beg him to stay. You never want to see him ever again. You want to wake up next to him every day. 

As he starts to get dressed, you grab the robe that’s hanging on the bedpost. This is the part you dread the most—the aftermath. You try not to seem too eager for him to get out. If he lingers even just a little…

‘That was fun,’ he smiles and you can already feel the awkwardness radiating off of him. None of you knows how to say goodbye yet your reasons for it could not be more different from each other. You hold the door open for him, smile a tight-lipped smile, go along with the motions when he gives you a goodbye kiss. 

He takes two steps towards the lift, then stops and turns around abruptly. This is it, you think, he’s reconsidered. He wants to stay. 

‘Can I see you again tomorrow?’ he asks and your heart dies a gruesome death for the millionth time. 

Just set me free, you want to scream at him, why won’t you just set me free? Instead, you nod and force a smile. 

‘Tomorrow works for me.’

#damiano david #damiano david x you #damiano david x reader #damiano david angst #damiano david imagine #damiano david fic #damiano david fanfiction #maneskin #maneskin x reader #this is angst #just angst #no happy ending #minors do not interact #writing requests

[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

[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

╔═════ ∘◦ ☆ ◦∘ ══════╗

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

╚═════ ∘◦ ❉ ◦∘ ══════╝

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

[wonderlandishell]

I'll find a new place to be from - NEW CHAPTER - Vic

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

Polyamory / Coming of Age / Biphobia / Loss of Virginity / Angst / Fluff / Light BDSM

Turns out, starting a relationship with three of your best friends is not a walk in the park. 4 problems they face on their own + 1 problem they solve together

Chapter 4 - Vic

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

[cherry-velvet-skies]

Young and Beautiful

Photographer!Damiano David × GN!Reader

Genre: Equal parts Angst & Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of body dysphoria, brief depiction of a panic attack, no smut but some suggestive parts

Words: 4k (oof it's a long one, folks)

Summary: Reader has slight body image issues, and Dami suggests doing a nude photoshoot to help Reader see how beautiful they are

=======================================

==================================

As the evening sun flowed through the open doors of the balcony, you sat on the bed, fidgeting with the silk tie of your floor-length robe. Your current state of being was, somehow, a combination of apprehension and anticipation.

You had never been professionally photographed before. Sure, you would partake in the occasional selfie, but rarely included any part of your body from the neck down.

The relationship you had with your body was one that brought you much confusion. Deep down, you felt like a decently confident individual, having occasional bouts of triumph, where you felt like you could wear anything, go anywhere, and accomplish everything. But of course, the highest of highs come with the lowest of lows. You'd wake up the next morning and stare at yourself in the mirror until what you saw back didn't even feel like you, but a distorted version of just that. You knew it was unhealthy, but sometimes it felt impossible not to compare yourself to others.

Earlier that day, Damiano had asked if he could take some photos of you. When he first proposed the question, you were quite pleased, having just gotten a new haircut that you didn't mind flaunting. Besides, you had allowed Dami to take a few photos of you before, and overall, you were delighted he had chosen you as his muse when he decided to take up photography. However, when he informed you that his desired concept was a nude photoshoot, you were a bit taken aback.

“A nude photoshoot?” You inquired, making sure you heard him correctly. “Like, nude nude? As in fully naked?”

“I’m not sure what else it could mean, amore.” Dami smiled, moving a strand of hair behind your ear. “But if you’re not comfortable with it, I completely understand.”

You sighed uneasily. A nude photoshoot was undoubtedly outside of your comfort zone, your anxiety quickly shutting down the idea of it. 

“Don’t you think you would rather have a professional model for something like that?” You mumbled, staring at the floor. Damiano noticed your hesitation, reaching for your hand and holding it in his own, his thumb running over the back of your palm.

“I know what you’re thinking, baby,” Dami whispered, tilting your chin upwards to make eye contact with him. “But honestly, I’m not doing this for practice the way painters and sketch artists do. I don’t want just anyone. I want you.”

You knew he was coming from a place of good intentions, but the hurtful part of your brain still wasn’t convinced. You sank further into the couch, suddenly becoming hyper-aware of the way your clothing felt against your body.

“I’m sorry, Dami, I just don’t think I’m sexy enough for something like that.” You said, your voice breaking. Damiano’s expression fell as tears gathered in your eyes. “They’d probably turn out horrible, and I can’t even imagine you adding something like that to your portfolio. Plus I-” Dami quickly stopped your rambling by wrapping his arms around you, your head neatly tucked against his neck as he shushed you gently.

“I’m sorry, Dami…” You repeated through short sobs, feeling your tears soak the collar of his shirt. He hugged you tighter each time you said it.

“Oh sweetheart…” He cooed, moving one of his hands to the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair. “There’s no need to be sorry. Please look at me, love,” He begged, trying to hide the sound of his voice breaking as well. You craned your neck to peek at him, your eyelids puffy with a hint of redness. “First of all,” he began, “if we do this, those photos are going nowhere near my portfolio. They’re just for me. For us. They’re far too valuable to be placed with all my other photos.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then another to the tip of your nose, and finally one to your lips. Dami breathed a small sigh of relief when a smile appeared on your face at his affection. “And secondly,” he continued, “this has nothing to do with being sexy. Photographing people, especially when they are nude, is about a beautiful exhibition of the human body. And what better person to start with than the one with the most beautiful body in the whole world?”

Beautiful? Beautiful. You stared blankly for a few moments, processing what Dami had just said. He was the only person who ever called you that. A majority of the reason why your self-consciousness would make an appearance so often was because your features were never praised as such. The problem wasn’t that you wanted to look like everyone else. You just wished your features were commended like all the others were.

But that was the difference. Damiano appreciated your beauty. He loved every single thing about you.

“How many photos did you plan on taking?” You asked, wiping your nose with your sleeve. “Did you intend on making a whole event out of it?”

“I’ll take as many or as little as you want me to.” Dami stated. “I’ll take enough to make you a book of them, or I can take just one and frame it for you.” He giggled. “All that matters is that you’re happy and comfortable.”

You felt like crying again, but not for the same reason as before. You took Damiano’s face in your hands, cupping his cheeks as he smiled warmly. You caressed the stubble on his chin, silently berating yourself for caring what the world thought of you. Dami thought of you as the most amazing creature on this planet, and you found it so hard to believe him. You knew he loved you very much, and his only hope was that you will one day see yourself the way he saw you ever since the day he met you.

“Okay.” You exhaled sharply. “I’ll do it. But can we do it as soon as possible so my stupid brain doesn’t have time to change its mind?”

Dami’s eyes lit up, ecstatic that you had agreed. He grinned from ear to ear, chuckling at your statement. “Your brain isn’t stupid. And you can tell it to wait for me in the bedroom while I go get my camera.”

So now here you were, in your blackberry colored silk robe, anxiously tapping your foot against the floor, the sound of your skin against the freshly polished wood echoing throughout the mostly empty room. Damiano’s only instructions were to undress. No fixing of the hair, no makeup, no nothing. He wanted you completely nude, which included how you chose to decorate your face. You peered around the room, your gaze scanning the cool-toned lavender walls, wondering what Dami was actually going to do with the photos he took of you, if anything. He already said they weren’t going into his portfolio, so then what was he going to do with them? Were they just going to stay in his camera or in a file on his computer forever? Was he really going to make them into a photobook, or frame them individually? You imagined the vast walls around you adorned with enlarged photos of yourself trapped in ornate gilded frames. You weren’t sure if you loved that idea or hated it.

You were snapped out of your reverie by the sound of the bedroom door opening. Now that Dami had finally returned with his camera, you realized this was actually going to happen. You felt bad about backing out now, after you had just agreed to it mere minutes prior. All you hoped was that your confidence lasted long enough for Dami to get a few good shots. He positioned his tripod by the balcony, taking advantage of the lovely golden sunlight.

“I would love to start out with you against this wall.” He announced, pointing to the side of the room that shared its space with the approaching sunset. Dami briefly lowered his gaze, adjusting the angle of the tripod plate to take portrait photos. You admired his face of concentration, the way his gorgeous silhouette looked against the scenery just outside the glass doors. You thought of him the same way he always said he thought of you. Absolutely beautiful.

He turned back to you, who was still awkwardly sitting on the bed. “You look tense.” He declared. “You don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.”

You pursed your lips, pulling up the collar of the robe to prevent it from slipping off your shoulder. “I feel like I’d regret it if I didn’t at least try.” 

Damiano nodded, approaching the bed and offering you his hand. You extended your own to softly grasp his fingertips when he pulled you up off the bed and into a warm hug. You sighed, though it sounded more like a laugh. That laugh soon turned to a squeal of surprise when Dami lifted you off your feet and spun you around, hearing his cheerful laughter ring throughout the room as he did so. It was clear that photographing you this way was something he'd been wanting to do for a while, but wasn’t sure how to bring up the subject. You were secretly glad he finally did. 

“I love you so much.” He mumbled into your chest, placing a kiss against your sternum.

“I love you too.” You beamed, always feeling your best when you were with him. Once he set you down, you scampered over to the wall on the other side of the room, pausing to glance outside and over the balcony, admiring the way the evening clouds blanketed the mountains towering behind the city. It looked even more beautiful at sunset, the sharp angles of the buildings contrasting the soft orange light the sky had cast upon them. You found it so easy to see the beauty of nature, no matter how it presented itself to the world. You almost envied the feeling, but didn’t know how to express that you coveted what the world so naturally produced. It didn’t seem logical.

As you settled into position, Dami stared at you through the tiny screen of the camera. He used few color alterations when shooting, trying to keep the photos as raw as possible, especially in a situation like this. He looked back up at you, clasping his hands together with excitement.

“Okay, baby, whenever you’re ready.” He breathed, waiting for you to make a move. Taking a steadying breath, you slowly undid the tie of your robe, feeling as it fell to the floor, the cool fabric pooling around your ankles. You kept your eyes closed, hoping that would make a difference. The room was so quiet that you heard Dami’s barely audible sigh of contentment. He took you in ever so slowly, softly biting his lower lip as his eyes scanned over your entire form. You tried your best to relax against the wall, attempting to acquire a pose that looked the least bit confident and not like you were frozen solid. 

Finally opening your eyes, you stared at Dami, whose consistent pleasant smile made you feel a bit more at ease. The only pose idea you had was to lay your hands flat against the wall behind you, pushing your shoulders out while the rest of your torso caved more inward. It was a fair compromise to your body desperately trying to hide itself while still trying to maintain a professional exterior. You knew it wasn’t technically a professional shoot, but you were still trying to give Dami the best you could manage at the moment.

You nodded to him that you found your comfortable position, to which he happily bent down to look at the screen again. Your hypervigilance seemed to be the one thing that wouldn’t back down, though. You heard every click of the capture button, every whir of the lens expanding and contracting when Dami zoomed in or out, and every shuffle of his feet when he would look at you from a different angle. You weren’t sure if you should keep your eyes closed the whole time or not, but alternated from doing so and looking at the floor, keeping your eyelashes on full display.

After what seemed like five photos that Dami had taken, you felt your heart begin to race. You did your best to ignore it, knowing it was just your anxiety. You tried to change your position, thinking that would help you stay calm, but once you stopped using the wall for support, you felt incredibly dizzy. Tears pricked at your eyes as you leaned against the wall again. Damiano looked up at you, immediately running to your side to see what was wrong.

“What happened, baby? Are you okay?” He asked frantically. You tried to answer, but all that came out was a choked sob. Snatching your robe off the floor, you hurriedly returned to the bed and curled up on it, placing the robe over your whole body including your head. Dami knew that whenever you went full turtle mode, you were having a panic attack.

Though he did nothing wrong, he felt awful. You noticed the bed shift as he sat down next to you, placing a hand on your back through your protective robe shield.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." He whispered, "The last thing I wanted was to upset you like this. I never should have pushed you to do it."

"It's not your fault, Dami." You croaked from underneath the robe. "I wanted to try. I just thought I'd be able to get through at least a few minutes before I broke." Damiano peeked under the corner of the robe to see your face, brushing away the hair that covered your eyes.

"Can you at least come out here so I can hug you?" He pleaded, offering you his hand again. You huffed as you pushed yourself up, readjusting the robe to wear it properly before cuddling up next to Dami. Your body had calmed down by now, but overall, you were still filled with sorrow about the outcome of it all.

"What were you thinking about that made you feel this way?" Dami began, trying to help you talk through your feelings to the best of his ability.

"People who are photographed all the time don't look like I do." You whimpered, trying not to start crying again. "They have different features than me. Ones that probably show up better on camera. I doubt I'm photogenic to the point where you could get a whole shoot out of me." Dami rubbed your back soothingly, feeling every time your breath hitched as you tried to compose yourself.

"If everyone looked the same all the time, do you know how boring that would be?" He asked, though it was more rhetorical. You looked up at him, resting your head on his shoulder as he spoke. "Amore, you do not need to look like everyone else to be beautiful. You're beautiful right now." He rested his hand against your cheek, making sure you were looking at him as he spoke. "You're beautiful when you first wake up. You're beautiful when you're working, and you make that cute concentrated face where you stick your tongue out. You're beautiful when we go shopping for clothes together, and I see you sifting through the racks to find the colors and patterns you like most. You're beautiful when we watch TV together, and I glance over to see how cute you look wearing your comfiest pajamas, while you eat your favorite snacks without a care in the world." Your smile grew wider with each sentence he added. You never knew Dami noticed those things about you. You never realized what his definition of beauty was. It wasn't just about your body. It was about all the little things that made you who you are.

"I love you." You sighed, reaching up to swipe away a single tear that was making its way down Dami's cheek.

"I love you too." He replied, placing another kiss on your forehead. "And I love everything that you don't get to see when you're fully dressed." He gently tugged on the loose knot you made to keep your robe closed, pushing it open but not completely off your shoulders. You looked down, feeling a breeze from the lack of fabric, considering you were completely bare. Dami made his way downward, placing kisses across your skin.

He started at your jawline, brushing his lips from below your ear towards your chin. He continued further, stopping at the base of your neck. He contemplated leaving a hickey, but decided that now was not the time, instead opting to place a kiss directly between your collarbones. It was the very spot that the pendant of your necklace chose for its daily rest upon your torso, though now bare since you removed all your jewelry before the shoot.

Dami moved at a slow and sensual pace, leaving more invisible love marks that followed the whimsical flowing curves of your waistline. You released a deep sigh of pleasure, tilting your head back and steadying yourself by placing your hands on Damiano's shoulders. He did the same by wrapping his hands around your lower back.

He kept traveling south until he left his place beside you on the bed and knelt before you, being the perfect height to place one final kiss below your belly button, in the small patch of thin hair just above your navel. He leaned back on his haunches, his hands rubbing your thighs before lightly pushing them open, just enough for him to sit comfortably between them, resting his head against the side of your knee.

"I will worship your body exactly like this every single day until you acknowledge the fullest extent of your beauty. Your charisma is that of regal proportions, and you deserve to be treated as such, my royal companion." He recited like a Shakespearean love interest, punctuating his monologue with a wet kiss to your inner thigh. You gazed down at him, eyes droopy with tranquility, your lips parted and smiling faintly.

"You look so beautiful right now, you know that?" You purred, causing Dami to emit a lazy chuckle.

"I say the same thing every time I look at you." He returned before rising to his feet to lock his lips with yours, easing you back onto the bed. You tangled your hands in his hair, moaning softly when his fingers skimmed over the small dips in your skin just below your hip bones. You broke the kiss to stare at him, observing the wonderment in his sparkly brown eyes.

"You're amazing for saying and doing all that." You said breathlessly, dragging your finger down the bridge of his nose. Your stare hardened briefly before continuing. "But is it okay if we don't take any more photos?"

"Of course, my love." Dami responded, peppering your cheeks with fleeting kisses. "Would you like to see the ones I did take?"

You nodded sheepishly as Dami stood up to fetch his camera from the tripod, bringing it over to the bed. You sat up, resting on your elbows as he reclaimed his place beside you.

You were correct that Damiano had only managed to capture five portraits before your anxiety got the better of you, but the ones he took were a lot nicer than you thought they'd be.

They all depicted your nude form in various aspect ratios, the rich tones of your outstanding complexion blended with the hazy orange hues of the sunset, which by now had diminished into a flurry of deep blues and purples. You marveled at it, as if it were a picture of someone else. But it was definitely you. Four of the photos were from wider angles, but the other one caught your eye immediately.

It was the only photo Dami had taken of your chest up, the edge of the photo stopping just above your nipples. The resolution had captured every single detail of your face. You could see every pore dotted across your nose. Every trace of hair that swept its way across your jaw and just under your chin, though you thought you had removed all of it only days earlier. You even noticed every barely visible acne scar along your forehead and the apples of your cheeks, from all the times you picked and plucked at them wishing you had clearer skin.

Scanning the photo further, you took in the sight of your bare shoulders, broader than average for someone of your stature. It was the only feature you could say you genuinely liked, no matter what other people thought of it. 

"You like this one the best?" Dami blurted out, noticing you lingering on it longer than the others.

"It's…" You tried, not sure how to preface your thoughts on it.

"Beautiful?" Dami interjected, hoping it's what you were going to say.

"It's...me." You finished. "It's the first time I've ever seen myself where what I'm looking at actually feels like me." Your gaze softened, continuing to admire the photo. "It's weird, but like a good kind of weird. I don't know how to describe it."

"I'm so happy to hear that you like it, amore." Dami said proudly, kissing your temple. "I think they all turned out wonderful."

You didn't comment, not wanting him to know that you didn't fully agree. At least, you didn't agree just yet. You thought his photography skills were excellent, but it was going to take you longer to see the beauty that he viewed them as. You may have only liked one of them, but it was a start.

"Can you frame this one?" You said so low you were even sure if you said it aloud, and if Dami heard you or not. His eyes widened, a surge of pride glistening behind them. You looked up at him, gauging his reaction, sighing in relief when he leaned in for a kiss.

"Where do you want me to hang it?" He mumbled against your lips. Twisting around, you pointed to the wall where you had stood to take the photo, a small stretch of space between the balcony doors and the edge of your bed.

"And it doesn't have to be crazy big in one of those huge swirly frames." You added with an awkward laugh. "Just a decent sized photo will do."

Dami joined your laughter with a lighthearted chuckle and a nod of acknowledgment. 

"You have my word, baby." He replied softly before kissing you again, pulling you back against the bed into a warm cuddle.

And a couple days later when you entered the bedroom, there it was. A larger version of the photo you observed yesterday, donning a reserved Arch B ratio nestled beneath a clear glass pane, sealed with a mahogany wood gallery frame to match the floor. You laughed, knowing that Dami tried so hard to make it look sophisticated without breaching the confines of your request to keep things minimal. You stared at the piece as if you were visiting a museum, wrecking your brain with who the artist was and how they were able to create such a masterpiece. But the truth is, Damiano may have taken the photo, but the real artist was you. And you were quite the talent.

You wanted the portrait there to serve as a reminder. You were beautiful, you just needed time to see that in all its glory. The road to self love was not an easy one, but having Dami by your side made every cross-country road trip feel like a skip across the street. Achieving security within yourself, although an arduous task at times, is doable. When you have the right people around you to hype you up and ensure you know your worth, what you see in the mirror can feel just as magical as all the portraits in a museum.

==================================

Here it is, y'all! My first fic! ☺ Feedback is appreciated but pls be nice 😅 And also let this fic serve as a reminder that you are beautiful just the way you are 🥰

Also, let me know if I should start a taglist so that you guys can be notified when I upload more fics! I've never shared any of my work before so it makes me so happy to know you guys are interested in my stuff 🥰

#maneskin #måneskin #damiano david #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #damiano david x reader #damiano david imagine #måneskin x reader #måneskin fanfiction #damiano david x y/n #damiano david x you #damiano david fanfiction

[lifeofa-fangirl]

One Night and One More Time - Masterlist

Summary: Four times she was a one night stand. And one time she wasn’t. Or: the one where she and Damiano keep bumping into each other and hooking up, but forget to talk about their feelings.

Word count: 11.7K

Warnings: Mentions of sex, a couple of swear words.

A/N: A lovely anon suggested I make a masterlist for this story, so here we are. Thank you for the great suggestion! It took forever to finish this story, so thank you to everyone who send me kind messages and likes and kicked my ass to finish this. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this. It would be lovely if you could spread the word/give me some love once more. 

One. February 2019. Milan

Two. December 2019. London.

Three. June 2020. Naples.

Four. May 2021. Rotterdam.

Five. December 2021. Rome.

#damiano david x reader #damiano david fanfiction #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #lore writes #one night and one more time

[maneskinhouse]

“C’mon, don’t cry on me now. Nobody wants to gangbang a crying girl,” he murmurs.

Vic chuckles wetly. “You’d be surprised.”

He shares the laugh but then unwraps her from the embrace so he can look her in the eyes. “Yeah, but this isn’t p0rn. This is a reasonable gangbang where everyone is friends and respectful of each other and knows this is just performative. No judgement whatsoever.”

Read the series by on AO3 (Explicit: only suitable for adults)

#maneskin #maneskin smut #maneskin fics #fan fiction #nc-17 #damoria #get ready for a crazy ride #damiano david fanfiction #maneskin fanfiction

[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. 

.

.

.

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

[filthforfriends]

Chapter 1: Checking In

The Sun is the Center of Everything

See Author's Note (CW: addiction)

Word count: 3.5k

Damiano David x Y/n

His family and his friends, mutual and otherwise, made tepid comments about Damiano’s wellbeing. They knew they didn’t have the right to ask anything of you, not anymore.

“Just checking in! I know the breakup was tough.” Tough. The word choice made you outright laugh. It was something you’d say to a child who just lost a football game. I know that was tough, buddy. 

“Hey, checking in, hope you’re doing well.” 

“I wanted to check in and see how you’re doing, y/n.”

“I know I checked in on you earlier, but I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” I was forced to choose between my sanity and my relationship, but God granted me neither.

“I’m doing fine, all things considered.” “Checking in” was their excuse to call, it was a transition to statements like, “We all miss you alot. Hope we’ll see you soon, sweetheart.” “Well, I’m glad you’re doing well, since I know Damia has been struggling.” “Have you heard from Dami? I was gonna call and ask how he’s doing as well. I heard he’s not coping well.” “You were such a force for good in his life. I think he really needs that.” “I wish I knew how to get Damiano closer to being fine, too.” That last one earned a real life eye roll. At least his friends had the etiquette to feel guilty for dragging you back into it. 

You were certain that your heart couldn’t bear to love someone hellbent on self-destructing. You were certain that Damiano wasn’t going to get sober of his own volition. He’d lose his temper when you’d bring up those two years of not drinking. Articles, books, podcasts, speeches, YouTube videos, TV, movies, therapy, support groups, doctors, even a sobriety coach. You spent more time on resources for his addiction disorder than you did self-care, or hobbies, or some days, even work. Your life revolved around stopping this behavior before he became a tragic stereotype and left a black hole in your life. Damiano’s life revolved around Maneskin’s unrelenting schedule. 

He’d do anything to reclaim his autonomy, but the options were slim. The documents from Sony US hadn’t been translated with nuance and you wondered if that might void some of it. Hoped, really. He’d signed his life away to realize his dream. Now all he could do is show his handlers that they’d bought a faulty machine. In fact, he was self-destructive enough that he’d do it just to spite them. 

The first time Damiano was hospitalized with alcohol poisoning, you found about a dozen ways to reassure yourself that everything wasn’t falling apart. He’d been sober for two years so his tolerance was low. Damiano was probably drinking the same amount. Then you found out it’d been hard alcohol, no mixers. Now the excuses were he didn’t remember when to stop. He had to relearn how to self regulate when drinking. 

Ethan had been the one to call the first time, when they’d managed to contain it. The second it was his head of security, Ronnie. In a totally normal and healthy way, you combed through Twitter for an hour. The knot in your stomach said the news would break and it did. Splashed across tabloids was a haggard looking picture of Dami that you tried to date based on his outfit. Your therapist called your behavior “obsessive,” but followed it up with a surprising amount of empathy.

“Tough love can be equally painful on both sides.” You’d never told her you still loved him. It was obvious. For the first time, carrying around all Damiano’s secrets felt like a burden. You’d never betray his confidence, despite how poisonous he’d been towards the end. SME had you sign a non-disclosure agreement in early 2021. You’d insisted it wasn’t necessary, that there wasn’t enough money in the world to pay you to talk to the press. Sony had simply said, “for now,” prompting Dami’s stereotypically Italian temper to flare.

Ronnie was more concerned with you telling Damiano that he’d relayed this information, clearly against your ex-boyfriend’s wishes. 

“Be honest with me, are you breaching contract by calling me?” There’s a very long sign on the other end of the line.

“Technically, no. He hasn’t taken you off his emergency contacts. I’m more concerned about the disruption it would cause.”

“Disruption?”

“Explosion. Whatever he’s ingesting has made him volatile, constantly on edge. The edge of rage, that is. We’ve stopped hoping for good days and started hoping for some good hours every few days, ideally around showtime or interviews.” 

“Wow, okay. I know he has a temper –”

“He’s never not angry. It's always simmering under the surface.” Through the silence, you can hear the sounds of the hospital. Layers of anxious voices and the constant beeping of some machine.

“You didn’t do this.”

“I know,” you respond automatically.

“Y/n, you didn’t do this. He did this to himself.” Dami had violated boundary after boundary as you set them. He became less recognisable, until he wasn’t the person you fell in love with. Full of creativity, light, good humor, who loved art and comradery more than he did any substance.

“I mean, I don’t think the breakup is why he’s so angry. The depression is probably from the alcohol. That’s actually why I’m calling.” Ronnie has the same tone of voice as those who are “checking in.” “The decision has been made, that he’s going to rehab.”

“Good.” With your back braced against the wall, you slide down onto the floor with relief.

“That decision has been made without Damiano’s consent.”

“Can’t you consult him?”

“No,” Ronnie says firmly. “Addicts aren’t rational.” It was the first time you’d heard someone call Dami an addict. Before now, that word had only existed in your own head.

“I can’t believe it got to this point so quickly.” Your cat, Princess, senses your anxiety and rubs against you. Dami had picked her out as a tiny kitten. When would she start wondering where her dad was? Maybe not yet, he was gone for long stretches of time on tour. Princess doesn’t know he isn’t coming home, and that thought both makes you jealous and sob hysterically. 

“Y/n? Y/n? You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry,” you sniff, eyes burning.

“SME is using the full weight of its influence to force Dami into rehab. He might call you and say anything he can think of to get out of it. Don’t believe him. You can’t trust him right now.” The thought of Dami calling and begging you to fly him home, only to go on a bender makes you sick.

“Should I block his number and Whatsapp?”

“That's up to you.”

“You called to tell me it's up to me?”

“I called you to warn you. So you could steal yourself. So you’d know about it before the tabloids.”

“I suppose now that Dami’s hospitalization is public, someone is also gonna leak that he’s going to rehab. Cover their own asses?” Ronnie falls silent. “You know, going to rehab in privacy would be a fuck load more effective. Let them wonder.”

“I wish they would.” Here was the impasse you always reached. Damiano treated as a doll to be flung around for profit, as if he didn’t have a soul. 

“Fine. Thanks for calling me.” Each time, you tried to tell them not to update you in the future, and each time your tongue refused to form the words.

“Y/n, I have a feeling that something is really not right with him. That it could get much worse before it gets better.” Now, he’s managed to tick you off.

“Ronnie, I tried everything in my goddamn power to keep him from crashing and burning. More than anyone else! I devoted hours to –”

“Y/n, I know.”

“I couldn’t stop him from self-destructing. I tried!” The sound of tears creeps into your voice. “I couldn’t stand to watch it anymore. I don’t know if he was refusing to get better or was unable to, but either way I…tried.”

“No one questions that. I mean that Damiano might need for things to get worse for them to eventually get better. He’s stubborn and short-sighted. I want you to be ready.”

“How much worse?” you whisper.

“He might need to bruise his ass on rock bottom to stop idealizing self-destruction.”

“‘Live fast, die young’ sounds a lot like I’d rather stick it to the man than grow old with you. My ego is bigger than my love for you”

“I don’t know that that’s true, y/n. For some people it's a matter of time before they become addicts when they’re put into this pressure cooker. I’ve seen it before.

“And?”

“Only Damiano can pull himself out of it.”

“So I just wasted my time,” you respond bitterly.

“Showing Damiano how deeply and unequivocally you loved him might save him still.”

“I thought he had to save himself.”

“You’re telling me that after five years he’s not a part of you and vice versa?”

“No.” No, I’m not telling you that, because I know the opposite to be true so viscerally that it has almost destroyed me. The part of Damiano that lay in your heart should be withering in his absence, but it remained very much alive. How do you move on from someone you hadn’t broken up with? The version of Dami that caused you to end it wasn’t truly representative of his character. He was still in there, progressively buried under the rubble of this revolt. The man you loved was unreachable which also made it impossible to move on. Every day he held you in his hellish limbo. 

Damiano did his 30 days. Then 30 hours after discharge, he overdosed in Milan. You started buying a train ticket as soon as you saw Ronnie’s contact on the screen. 

“Is he alive?” 

“Yes, but he’s on a ventilator.”

“God damn it Dami,” you whimper, doubled over and on the verge of screaming into your hand. “What's happening?”

“That's literally all I know. Someone found him in the bathroom of a bougie nightclub and gave him Narcan, thank god. His lips were purple, so…” For a moment Ronnie’s voice is drowned out by a sob. “It’s gonna be messy. The ambulance was photographed.”

“Christ.” This would make international celebrity news. Every asshole who’d typecast Dam after Eurovision would be competing for the most public validation. 

“We don’t think it was intentional.”

“But how bad was it? Like would he think he was gonna die in the moment? Was he alone? How long was he conscious? What – what about organ failure. What if –”

“Y/n, I don’t know,” Ronnie says slowly. “I will call when I have more information.” You’d been on the train for 20 minutes before your phone rang. He was going to be okay. You balled up your coat and screamed, using it as a gag.

“Turns out, to compensate for the hangovers, he’s been doing cocaine.” Never has irony been more painful. “He wasn’t testing his drugs. The coke was laced with fentanyl. Another line might have killed him.” Only then does the possibility that Damiano could end his own life become apparent. It swallows up every other aspect of your reality, until you’re standing in the doorway of his hospital room. 

Thomas’ girlfriend Mia sees you first and runs in for a hug. Ethan and Vic were sleeping in their hotel rooms. Ronnie’s jacket is crumpled in a chair, forgotten after drifting off to sleep probably.

“Hey! Ronnie said you might come, but…” But I’m not Damia’s girlfriend. Perhaps he’d found someone new, and you were encroaching on their territory.

“Shit, I just thought that, um…is he dating –”

“No.” The amount of relief that provided was just evidence of how damaged you were. “He’s been in a coma for almost three hours, lots of good brain activity. He should wake up soon.”

“Coma?” you squeaked. In Tom’s eyes you saw how taxing this new Damiano had been. You weren’t the only one that loved him unconditionally. 

“Yeah.” Thomas rubs his face and sighs. “Fuck. We have so much shit tomorrow.” SME had scheduled a press tour as soon as Damiano was discharged, to make up for lost time. Everything was pushed back because the band couldn’t release something they hadn’t done publicity for.

“I’ll sit with him for a while,” you reassure. Mia helps Tom up out of the chair. After exchanging appropriate greetings, they exit the room, whose door remains open. Now you had to look at him. The ventilator emits rhythmic rushes of air, so your eyes find the source of the sound first. Then you follow the tubing until it enters Damiano. He’s gray, sickly looking like he had COVID again. Surely they already tested for that. 

The concern had been damaging his voice, like the tobacco and weed hadn’t already put his vocal chords on the edge of irreversible harm. How damaging is a plastic tube shoved down your throat? Alcohol caused esophageal cancer and coke eviscerated your sinuses. What would those do to his singing voice? 

You’d refrained from watching his gigs, but now you have the compulsion to find a video of this morning’s interview. It was just the talking portion, no performance. That was Sony’s idea of easing back into the public’s eye. In the thumbnail, he doesn’t look like an addict. Damiano’s skin had aged backwards while in rehab. He was beautiful, pale from so much time in doors, but healthy. The fact that he’d managed so much damage in a matter of hours made you nauseous. 

You sat in the bathroom while the feeling passed. The pale green tiles were cold. Should you leave? You couldn’t even work up the bravery to touch him. But if you left, Dami could wake up alone with a tube down his throat, confused that he wasn’t dead. Meanwhile, the fluorescent lights illuminate details in the reflection of the mirror that you’d prefer not to be made aware of. After pondering some adult acne, you decide that you aren’t the type of person to abandon someone, just because they abandoned you.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you startle the nurse at Damiano’s bedside.

“Geez, I didn’t know you were in there!” She brings a hand to her ample bosom while taking a deep breath.

“Shit, sorry. I was just…having an existential crisis.”

“Ah, so you must be the girlfriend, then.”

“Yep,” you answer automatically. After five years, that response was ingrained into your frontal lobe. This would have been the first time you answered no.

“I’m Maria and I’m gonna be your nurse this morning.”

“Morning?”

“It is…” she checks her smart watch, “5:04. So early morning.” Her chipper tone gives you cognitive dissonance. “I’m just gonna take some blood, just to monitor how his organs are functioning. Unfortunately a tiny amount of fentanyl can wreak havoc.” 

“His organs are failing?”

“No,” she answers firmly, going so far as to round the bed and pat you on the shoulder before putting on latex gloves. “He’s young and it's his first OD. He could bounce back quickly, but a coma is the body's last ditch effort at keeping itself alive. He’s lucky.” She gives you a knowing look. “I can recommend some great treatment programs, now that he officially has his Substance Use Disorder diagnosis.”

“Um.”

“Maybe we’ll tackle that around breakfast time. Now why don’t you hold onto his hand.” She ties a purple tourniquet around his bicep on his left arm while you gingerly take a seat. “Mhm, go ahead,” she permits, completely oblivious to the war raging inside you.

“Does – does it help?” Your left hand quivers, half an inch above his, close enough to feel the heat.  For some reason, you expect Dami’s skin to be cold too, like a corpse. 

“It can be difficult to find a good vein after an overdose.”

“Are his veins damaged?”

“We didn’t find any evidence that he was using intravenously. Unfortunately hypoxia, A.K.A. oxygen deprivation, is a result of –”

“Will he have brain damage?”

“You’ll have to ask the doctor that question.” 

“Does Narcan hurt?”

“No, but he’ll probably have a headache.”

“Does overdosing on fentanyl hurt?”

“It’s heavily sedating.”

“Would he know that he was overdosing?”

“Depends on how experienced of a drug user he is.”

“I’m pretty positive that this is his first overdose.”

“Then probably not.”

“Would he be scared then?”

“You’d have to ask him.”

“Would he be afraid of dying?”

“Honey, hold his hand.” Maria pats you on the shoulder as you finally set your palm against Damiano’s. His skin is warm, as always, and he feels sturdy. The sensation of his hand in yours brings back so many memories that you’re fighting not to drown in them. It's strange, him not responding as you squeeze down. Dam loved to talk about marriage, how the ceremony would go, the reception. You’d debated matching rings. Now you watched the blue line of his heart rate on the beeping monitor.

“Okay, all done,” Maria announced, smoothing adhesive labels over vials of blood. “The doctor will be in shortly and – oh.” She freezes, then presses the call button.

“Is he okay?” Your heart falls from your chest to stomach, out your ass, and lands on the linoleum floor. 

“Yep, looks like he’s coming out of it, actually. Stand up,” Maria requests, pulling on your arm. “Make sure you’re in his line of sight. Waking up on life support can be quite disorienting.” Damiano’s face looks the same, but then his pupils move under his eyelids. You’re the first thing he’ll see and that pressure is impossible to bear. 

“I can’t! I’m so sorry.” You rub your eyes then stand up, grabbing your purse and overnight bag. Maria doesn’t protest. She lets you leave in a flurry of movement and tears, throwing the door open so forcefully that it hits the wall. Once outside of the hospital room, you immediately feel compelled to go back. Dami had never done anything to warrant being left alone at such a pivotal, terrifying moment. You knew with absolute certainty that if the roles were reversed, he’d have never left your side.

“Okay.” You take a deep breath upon re-entering the hospital room, holding Dami’s right hand in both of your own. “Okay, I’m here. What now?” 

“We wait,” Maria answers, as a doctor enters the room. There's the medication given, vitals taken, brain activity analyzed. The waves on the monitor become closer together, then more drastic. Medical personnel may be accustomed to it, but the rapid beeping elevates your anxiety.

“We’re bringing him up out of it gradually, so he doesn’t hurt himself,” narrates a young doctor. “Mr. David will have regained a level of consciousness by now. Probably thinks he’s dreaming.” How would a person not startle while waking up with a tube in their throat? It’d been almost three months since you’d last seen him, but if you thought about it that way, you’d just run. Instead, you imagine that you’re waking Damiano up from a bad dream, even though it was typically the other way around.

“Will he recognize your voice?”

“Of course.” The response comes out defensive when you didn’t intend it to be.

“Talk to him.”

“I…okay.” You lean down, getting closer to his ear. “Dami, it’s y/n. It’s y/n, I’m really here. It's me, baby.” That last word gets stuck in your throat. It’d be so long. How many messages had you missed? He must have tried to contact you.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t answered. I don’t know the right things to say. I don’t know if saying something is the right thing.” Maria and the other nurse in the room are looking at you with a bit of judgment, but the doctor is focused on the monitors.

“Great. That’s great.” You raise a shaky hand to Damiano’s cheek and brush your thumb back and forth.

“As soon as I heard, I got on a train. I still think about you everyday, even more than when we were together. Hopefully you won’t remember any of this, me babbling on. I’d call it pathetic, but you wouldn’t like that.”

“Page whatever respiratory therapist is on call this morning, please. Thank you.” For another couple minutes you wait for improvement, signs that your boyfriend still existed in this body. The doctor is enthralled in what appears to be unchanging information to you, and administers another dose of something. 

“I always thought it was kind of sudden,” you confess. “Damia, if you can hear me, come towards the surface.”

“He can definitely hear you. I’m Dr. Williams, by the way, or just Paul.” The young physician never breaks focus. “Common misconception. If waking up from sleep isn’t instant, why would waking up from a coma be,” he chuckles. Damiano’s hand twitches at the wrist, like a muscle spasm.

“He just moved!”

“Mm-hm.”

“Is everything okay?” Ethan exclaims, having walked in while all your focus was elsewhere. Someone herds him into the hall and closes the door. Then Dami squeezes down on your hand, properly, like he intends to. His eyes flutter and you feel his presence enter the room.

Notes: Chapter 2 posted on Sunday. Let me know if you find this fic interesting/compelling so far. I'll be posting two short chapters a week, word count ranging from 2.9 - 7.3k. Hello to the new members of my taglist!

-XOXO Eden

Read the rest on my Masterlist

Get notified via my Taglist

@bieberhoodforever @blackberryblossom @butkutee @cuzimitaliano @elvirabelle  @iamtashaquinn @icarodamiano @ilwiwbysmv @immrbrightsideeee @little-moonbeam-666 @maneslut @mortyandem  @the-chaotic-cow  @wasteddoubts @weareoddlydrawn @whore4damia@azertyhug @biancathecool @bohemianrainbow @daisy0gf @dustyinkpages @katyldamusic @obiw4n @persona1read1ng  @gr8rainbowpunk @hiraetheral @l0standn0tf0und @que--sera--sera @stardustingold  @teenyweenynightghost  @softmullet @solacestyles @thegeminisgirl @slavicgoddess13 @hauntedpostpersona @shinshans @bai-wuxiangs-mask @lonnybunnys @davianos-blog

#maneskin #måneskin #damiano david #må #damiano #damiano maneskin #maneskin damiano #damiano david x reader #damiano david imagine #damiano david fanfiction #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin x reader #damiano david x you #maneskin x you #måneskin x reader #måneskin imagine #there will be smut eventually fear not

[gretavanfleetlove]

OKAY! It’s been awhile but I want to get back into writing and I would really appreciate requests. I’m currently writing for (drum roll please)

Marvelous Mrs Maisel

All male characters at the moment

And I’ll write for the female characters platonically for now

Lenny, Joel, etc, and I’m accepting requests

(Btw it will be reader inserts)

Greta Van Fleet

I’ll write for all members

I’m in love with them all

Platonically or romantically

And I’m def accepting requests

JATP

This one is new to me

But I really want to write for all 4 members!

I’m not sure if I’ll do romance for Alex??

But either way I want to write for them

Again requests accepted

Måneskin

I’ve always wanted to get into writing for them

Sooo here ya go

I’ll write for all of them love em all

I do not write smut, or sexual assault, yandere, or anything alpha male related but anything other than that I’m all ears! And will write requests. Fluff, angst, slow burn, etc etc.

I’ll also do ships for any of these fandoms!! Much love 💕

Also that to make up for other things ^

#greta van fleet #x reader #jatp #jatp fanfiction #jatp x reader #Maneskin fanfic #marvelous mrs maisel #Lenny Bruce x reader #I’ll answer all requests I swear 😂😭 #julie and the phantoms #luke patterson #Reggie peters #Jake Kiszka #Josh Kiszka #danny wagner #Miriam Maisel #victoria maneskin #damiano david fanfiction

[maneskin-dimensione]

Genuine question: is there such a thing as over-writing? Because I've been fine so far but today it's like I've just lost my motivation to write and everything that I have managed to write today reads like shit :/

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

[reputationdamiano]

Hi babee. So i saw your headcanon request are open and here i am lol.

Imagine them as a grandparents. To be honest it isn't seem like as in my ımagine when i write it here but it doesn't have matter. We're going to be old anyway.

Have a nice day/night 🥰❤️🥰🥰❤️❤️🥰🥰

måneskin as grandparents headcanons

word count: 243

warnings: none

a/n: hi, sorry for replying almost a year after this request was sent. i wasn’t feeling particularly creative but i hope you enjoy!

damiano:

i imagine him storytelling a lot, all about måneskin’s adventures and showing videos of their performances, generally reminiscing the past

that sporty kind of grandfather who teaches children how to ride a bike or who plays basketball with them!

damiano would try to make his grandkids laugh as much as possible with his cheesy jokes

he would definitely make them chamomile tea before bed

ethan:

i think he’d spoil the kids by letting them do everything they want to, including things their parents wouldn't let them do

ethan would definitely teach them the basics of playing drums

he would be a shoulder to cry on, always comforting his grandkids whenever they feel unhappy

ethan would read bedtime stories while putting the children to sleep

thomas:

picture him being so proud when he shows his little signature dance to his grandkids

thomas would keep up with the trends whatever they would be in the year 2065, definitely a modern and cool grandad!

the guitarist of the band would play cards or board games with his grandkids

i think thomas would encourage the kids to start a band on their own!

victoria:

i imagine vic going outside with the kids and painting nature

she would know about everything happening in her grandchildren’s life and would give the best advice

vic would bake all kinds of delicious pastries for her grandchildren

our style icon would obviously help the kids make the best fashion choices

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

masterlist

#catalina writes #catalina’s headcanons #maneskin #måneskin #maneskin fanfiction #damiano david x reader #maneskin fluff #damiano david fanfiction #damiano david fluff #thomas raggi fanfiction #thomas raggi fluff #thomas raggi headcanon #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi #ethan torchio fluff #ethan torchio fanfiction #ethan torchio x reader #ethan torchio #victoria de angelis headcanons #victoria de angelis fanfic #victoria de angelis fanfiction #victoria de angelis fluff #victoria de angelis x reader #victoria de angelis #vic de angelis x reader #maneskin headcanons #maneskin fandom #maneskin fanart #fanfiction

[writingmaneskin]

In Need of Some Extra Love || A Damiano David Story

Pairings: Damiano David x GN!Reader

Fluff with a hint of angst

Summary: Damiano's partner is struggling and finds themself in need of some extra love even if they don't admit it.

Words: 1.6k

A/N: May this be a reminder to all of us workaholics, that our value does not come from our productivity.

THE MASTERLIST

Join the Taglist || Send a Request || Ko-Fi

Taglist: @queendorkula, @idyllicbutterfly, @moonlight-simp, @maneskings, @hiraetheral, @homesicam, @ilwiwbysmv, @bieberhoodforever, @vita-thrasher, @katyldamusic, @iosonoarina, @ethaneskin, @theimpossiblehologramtree, @itsmaneskinbitch, @mywritingonlyfans, @dubist-immerinmeinengedanken, @butkutee, @sunflowerpumpkinpie, @ventvnni, @sarcastic-sourwolf, @l0standn0tf0und, @tempobrucera, @dpaccione, @daddystevekemp, @elvirabelle, @cuzimitaliano, @shehaddreamstoo, @iamtashaquinn, @h1pp1eth1ngs, @que--sera--sera

Damiano knew that something wasn't right. 

Not that you said anything about it. He came home and life resumed as it usually did when the two of you were home at the same time.

He settled slowly, wordlessly into the routine that you two had whenever there was time off to be had - alone time, outings with the loved ones, home time with your three cats.

"Amore, is everything alright?" He asked one evening after you politely declined an outing with the family in favor of staying home and just enjoying some quiet down time. You weren't usually one to avoid family time but that day, just seemed off…

You didn't reply to him straightaway, not knowing how to avoid his worries. 

"I am fine." You smiled brightly and picked up your latest project. Keeping your hands busy always managed to slow down your racing mind. 

"Okay,if you say so." He chose to try his best to believe you. 

"You can go and meet them if you want to." You loved how close Dami was to your parents. 

"We can do a raincheck." He smiled. "I love your parents but I want to be with you."

You wanted to cry at how gentle and loving he was. And that wasn't something new. No, he had always been like that with you.

"I will make us something delicious for dinner and we can watch something if you want." He offered, the love and affection not leaving his eyes.

"That sounds amazing, thank you."

You felt guilty for feeling like this. Guilty that you couldn't always silence the intrusive thoughts that kept you up at night, nagging and feeding into your insecurities.  

You followed him to the kitchen, craving his company but having no energy to do much more. You brought your project along with you and set it down on your lap, out of the kitten's paws.

Damiano hummed as he worked on the dinner preparations, his mood elevated by the fact that you hadn't rejected him or his company.

"When do you have to go back to work?" You asked, trying to prepare yourself for that difficult moment.

"I'll have to go to rehearsals starting next week but I'll be home in the evenings and in the mornings."

"That's good." 

"What about your work?" He asked politely. He'd always supported and encouraged your creative work and one of the things you loved in your relationship was the understanding that creativity was at your soul's core, as it was in Damiano's and not being creative turned life into a struggle.

"I haven't found anything big yet." You admitted, the insecurity surfacing. There were times like this, when your insecurity tried to get the best of you but whenever you spoke about it, usually Damiano or one of your best friends would be there to lift you off the ground and support you in any way you might need.

"I am sure something fantastic will come along in no time, but meanwhile I get to spoil you to no end." He smiled at you, confidence exuding from his words. You teared up. 

This man is too good to be true. Said the little voice at the back of your mind.

Damiano served both of you dinner less than an hour later, serving a glass of your favorite wine with it, to lighten up the atmosphere.

You did your best to stay focused on him and the amazing food that he'd prepared for you. And for a while this distraction worked. 

You helped Damiano clean up after dinner and the whole time he hummed and occasionally recorded voice notes on his phone to not forget a line or a melody that came to him.

Being like this, with him gave you that spark that you needed so much.

"Want to go for a walk?" He suggested as the two of you headed out to the living room.

"A walk would be really nice, I think."

The sky was clear and you could see the stars here and there because of the light pollution. Damiano held your hand, occasionally rubbing his thumb over your hand, a soothing gesture that you loved.

"How are you feeling, right now?" He broke the silence. 

"Do you want the truth?"

"Of course, I do."

"I am sad that there is currently no project on the horizon for me." You admitted, "I hate stagnation, I hate this feeling."

Damiano turned to look at you.

"I know how frustrating it is. But I also know that you'll come out on the other side." He hated feeling this helpless and felt like what he had just said was something that you heard but not really.

You didn't say anything, everything feeling too heavy again.

"I want to go home, please." You asked Damiano, feeling horrible when his shoulders slumped again.

"Of course."

Damiano made his evening tea, and made a cup for you. He brought both cups to bed before snuggling under the blankets to watch your favorite TV- show.

You absent-mindedly started running your fingers through his hair, loving how slowly it lulled him to sleep.

Before even one episode could finish, Damiano was asleep. You kept caressing his curls and when he turned around to the colder side of the bed, you grabbed the laptop off the nightstand and started browsing for projects and sending applications.

Damiano woke up needing to pee just as the sun was starting to rise. 

He turned around to check on you, only to find you in the exact same position that he’d left you in, but with the laptop on your lap, scrolling away through the internet.

“Amore, is everything alright?” His voice was all raspy and sleepy.

“Yes, go back to sleep.” You kissed his hand. 

He rolled out of bed to go pee, each step of his feeling heavier than the last. 

He had been oblivious, oblivious to the stress that you were experiencing, choosing to believe that you would tell him what was bothering you. 

And you did tell him, and then he screwed up completely. 

You looked up from the laptop when he came back to bed, trying to not feel ashamed that you still hadn’t slept. Usually, Dami slept through the night and you didn’t expect him to wake up so you just kept going and browsing gigs, looking for something to get you excited to work again.

“Can you put away the laptop?” The look in Dami’s eyes made you obey instantly, the sadness there hurting you as well.

You tucked your legs in and he sat in the space where they had just been.

“I am sorry that I screwed up so badly during the walk.” He started and took your hands in his own. “I am sorry that I have been so oblivious to your struggles.”

You didn’t know what to say, none of what was happening was his fault, especially not your brain bullying you.

“Dami..” You started. “You can’t blame yourself for my bullshit.”

“I can blame myself for not being supportive enough of you or taking good enough care of you.” 

“You are taking wonderful care of me.” You objected.

“Such wonderful care that I slept while you were working.”

“It’s good that you were sleeping. You need your rest.” 

“As do you!” Dami got a bit frustrated. “Please, amore. Please, come to sleep with me and in the morning we will figure it out and I will sit with you and we can look at the different projects and I will help you send emails and applications, but sleep first.” 

You couldn’t say no to that tone or that face. He pulled you closer in his arms, and ran his fingers through your hair, humming softly a melody that you recognized as a lullaby. 

Before you knew it, sleep took you.

Damiano watched over you for a while and held you as you fell asleep. 

The two of you awoke only when the sun was high in the sky and your feline children needed love and attention. 

You started the coffee machine while Dami handled the cats and then the two of you went to the porch to breathe in some fresh air.

“How do you feel?” His voice was once again raspy. He took a sip of his coffee before lighting a cigarette and passing it to you.

“Better than yesterday.” You admitted. “I bookmarked some pages that I wanted to read over last night.” You smoked, thoughts slowly starting to run wild again.

“I don’t know the full extent of the situation yet, but let me tell you this.” Damiano got up and moved his chair so he could face you. “You are an amazing, kind, loving, generous human being. A brilliant artist.” He smiled brightly. “I am so fucking proud of you. I love you with my entire heart.”

His words made you tear up. He was always encouraging and supportive of you and hearing you be supportive always moved you to tears. 

“Dami..”

“I am not finished.” He kissed your hand. “Your value does not come from your work. You are not worthless just because you are not currently working on something. Your worth is not dependent on your productivity. You are a fucking phenomenal being and I love you with my entire heart.” He got up and leaned over you to press a kiss on your lips. 

“I love you too, Damiano.” The tears rolled down your face but there was a smile too. 

“And I am always happy to provide all the extra love you may need. Do not ever forget that.” He brushed away the tears before kissing you again.

**

#damiano david #maneskin #ethan torchio #vic de angelis #thomas raggi #damiano david x you #damiano david x reader #damiano david fanfiction #damiano david blurb #damiano david x yn