#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. 

.

.

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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

[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

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[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.’

[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

[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)

[lifeofa-fangirl]

Aaaaaah how cute is this *insert heart eyes*. Warm and fluffy and soft coziness! This made me smile so big!!

“Dance with me”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ fluff

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQfF84ackMM 

The door opened with a bang! Stumbling in was a very drunk Damiano and a very sober and annoyed Ethan.

“AMORE MIO!!” Damiano shouted seeing Y/n leaning on the wall of the hallway. His eyes lit up like sparklers on bonfire night. Y/n knew the band had an after party for getting nominated for a music award and another song going platinum. Well deserved of course, but that one after party turned into three. One drink turned into ‘lets buy everyone a round’ and by the time Damiano fell into his shared apartment it was near morning. His fiance, his beautiful ‘stellina‘ was near done with his antics. Though would never admit how amused she was at this situation. Ethan nodded a goodbye and shut the door behind him.

Damiano dressed in his red coat with the gold buttons. Y/n had always commented that it made him look like some vintage protagonist. Cary Grant, Fred Astaire type. Those dashing men in clean suits and handsome faces of the by gone era made her heart grow fuzzy and soft. Damiano was one of the modern age. Bright and shiny. Ready to speed out into the world with a bolt of lighting! Energy zapping from his finger tips in everything he touched. Including his forehead resting on Y/n’s shoulder right then. His lips mumbling things in Italian Y/n hadn’t quiet learned just yet. Slurred intoxication didn’t help with understanding her prince charming either. Bolstering an arm around his waist she got him to the living room silently.

“Baby? You stayed up for me…”

    “That a question or a statement darling?” Y/n inquired more interested in taking off his shoes at the moment. Picking up his ankle he watched Y/n set his foot on her knee, her hands working at the laces of his platform boots. 

“You mad at me?”

    “No darling, I am just very tired. Did you have fun tonight?”

“You’re mad at me!!” Crossing his arms across his chest in a huff. Drunk Dami came in stages, 1. slightly more outgoing, louder Damiano. 2. Performer Damiano who got up on stages and stole mics to sing. 3. Horny Damiano then finally stage 4. Child Damiano. Where he huffed and puffed till he was put to bed. Undoing the boot from him Y/n leaned down to kiss the Italians forehead.

    “I wouldn’t kiss you if I was mad at you dear, please be patient.” Y/n rubbed her eye trying to stay awake. Taking his other foot and starting the same process.

“…maybe…..Would you dance with me?”

   “Damiano it’s almost 3 30 in the morning. The time for dancing is long gone. It’s time for sleep now cuore mia“ With his shoes now tucked under the coffee table Damiano stood up. Y/n had wandered to the kitchen getting him a glass of water, and he was sure to follow. Had a habit of following her around the house. Would end up reading manga on the office floor while she worked, or into the bathroom to continue the conversation. Little things that kept her in his sight.

And to drunk Damiano right now? She was the most loving, caring, created thing on gods green earth. On her birthday Damiano had purchased a long light blue silk nightgown and robe set. Originally meant it to be sexy, but it ended up as lounge around the house wear. Had lace at the neckline, billowy and a layer of tulle swished around her legs as she waltzed in the kitchen. For to him Y/n never just walked. She waltzed, she floated on air, or on the spare chance she was in the mood stepped on him and it was great. Right now with the fuzzy vision of too many drinks she was magic. A cold glass was put into his hand and she raised a brow at him. Seeing the water he took a drink. His other hand grabbed onto the light blue fabric. Playing with it between his fingers.

     “Dance with me love?” Damiano asked again putting the glass down.

She sighed pulling his hand in hers. “You aren’t gonna give this up aren’t you?” He grinned stumbling both of them into the living room. Putting on a playlist they made back when they were just dating it was a soft reminder of where they came from. Songs like ‘unforgettable’ by Nat King Cole and ‘Belong to me’ by Jo Stafford poured into the room note by note. His hand reached around to her waist and hers fixed itself to his neck. Rubbing small circles into his skin. The other arm extended out causing them to sway.

     “I am so glad to be marrying you….You are truly the most amazing woman I’ve ever seen”

“You are an awful flirt when you’re drunk”

      “I am, but I still love you the same.”

“And I love you the same. Till the day I pass from this earth.”

      “Now who’s the flirt?” He cut into a fit of giggles, still trying to dance.

“Oh hush you big lug”

So they danced. Her nightgown drifting over the carpet. His feet stepping side to side. The morning approaching, but on the backs of turtles it seemed. For they had forever. Like this. They would always have forever.

————————–la fin———–

[writersblockiskillingme]

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

I’m in my delusional era

Only Angel | Damiano David

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

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

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

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

I saw this angel

I really saw an angel

Open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see

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

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

And there's nothing I can do about it

Damiano could still remember the first time he met her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door

I got splinters in my knuckles crawling across the floor

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

But I think that's what I like about it

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

One night stands.

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

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

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

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

As I went about my business through the warning signs

End up meeting in the hallway every single time

And there's nothing we can do about it

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And why is that, angel."

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

That's all he needed.

Told it to her brother and she told it to me

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

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

And there's nothing she can do about it

Hey, hey

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

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

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

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

"Arch your back for me, angel."

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

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

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

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

"Ah- I-"

"Do they!?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Good girl."

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

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

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

Wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight

Wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight

Wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She's an angel

Only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

She's an angel

My only angel

She's an angel

My-my-my only angel

->

->

->

TAGLIST

@opal-rugger

[pjisskullourful]

𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦

𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 part 3/3 [series masterpost]

🍽️ Damiano × reader

NSFW 🔥 smuttastic nastiness, written by an adult about adults to be consumed by adults

° Damiano David/female reader insert

wordcount::: 15,800

° there is no more hiding your relationship, now you & damiano can go on your first date. but you're going to find that theres more spice than whats listed on the restaurant's menu

° shoutout to @sadbirdsflytoo for picking damianos outfit 💋 thank you for everybodys patience with me getting this final part to you

It had taken a while for this night to arrive.

It wasn’t as simple as pointing to a restaurant that looked nice and getting Damiano to make a reservation there. He was being picky about what was good enough for your first date.

Going to see a movie had been a safe option for a first date in your past. But he wouldn’t even entertain the idea, shooting it down before you had looked up what was currently playing at the cinema. ‘I’m taking you on a date ‘cause I want to talk to you, and see you’, he had told you during his dismissal.

A picnic in the park was far too basic, he declared. Something fun like bowling was viewed by him as powerfully unsexy. He thought a sports game would come with too many distractions. He ruled out visiting any kind of amusement park, ‘I’m not that rich, yet’. He didn’t want to go to the beach, because that was something you had done when you were just friends - it wasn’t significant enough.

And that was what it all boiled down to: he wanted this night to capture the significance of the start of your relationship. It was sweet that he wanted to get it so perfect, he thought you were worth all of that effort.

You didn’t have a set idea of what you wanted to do. But you had known when one of his suggestions needed to be ruled out.

“I wanna cook for you, I would absolutely love to. That’s the perfect way to make the date as personal as possible.” He had said, his proposal had clearly been thought on, more than just a spontaneous epiphany. “Would you like me to make a dinner for you? Wouldn’t that be so romantic? I can make you anything that you want, anything.”

Even though it had seemed like he had more to say, you had taken the opportunity to speak. “That does sound romantic. But I can’t help thinking that if we stay here for the date, there’s only a slim chance you will actually get cooking done. Most likely, we’ll just end up having a lot of sex.”

He had just blinked at you, showing you a blank expression. “What’s your point?”

“That’s not a date. That’s what we do every time we hang out.” You said. “And I’m not complaining…”

“It’s a fantastic way to spend time.” He had contributed.

“Spectacular.” You said. “But that’s not something I could get dressed up all fancy for. We couldn’t take cute photos at the location ‘cause we would just be beside your oven, and we would be naked.”

“We can take nudes together if you want.” He had said, prompting you to roll your eyes. “No, no, no, you’re right. I asked you out and that’s what we’ll do, go out.”

It had taken one more brainstorming session to figure out where to go. He picked a place you had never been to, which served a cuisine you had never eaten before. He made reservations at the upscale restaurant and you began to get butterflies, getting ready to experience another first with him. You could indulge in the significance, there was going to be a payoff.

As you dressed in your new dress, you felt nervous. They were different to the nerves you had felt before other first dates. You didn’t have to worry that you wouldn’t enjoy his company, or that you would have to try extra hard to impress him. There was no threat of awfully awkward conversations.

And in the absence of these anxieties, your excitement could flourish. The two of you were making it official, establishing that this was more than just really great sex. You were setting the tone for what your relationship would be. It didn’t matter that you were moving into uncharted territory, you were raring to go.

He arrived a little bit ahead of the agreed upon time. But he wasn’t catching you off-guard, feeling like you couldn’t wait for the date to start had led you to getting ready early. By the time you went to answer the door, you already had your hair laying as you liked it best and there were no further details to add to your makeup.

Standing at your front door, his eyes brightened at the sight of you. They seemed to grow wider as he quickly looked you up-and-down, trying to admire so many features at once.

Even after walking into your apartment, it seemed that he couldn’t get enough of looking at you. You turned around from locking the door to find him staring at you, like he wanted to memorise your off-shoulder dress.

“You look amazing.” He said.

“So do you.” You said.

He hadn't resisted the urge to show some skin, his red button-down shirt was just playing at being demure. He had only fixed two buttons in place, opting to show off not only more than his clavicle, but also his tummy, by tying the bottom of the shirt in a knot. He wore a leather jacket over this.

He had completed the look with what you would describe as ‘classic Damiano jewellery’. Of course he had a choker wrapped around his neck (leather) and his fingers were decorated with various antique rings. The earrings that dangled from his lobes bore a single pearl, matching the necklace you were wearing.

“No, I’m serious, you look so great.” He said and you saw his eyes move down, definitely noticing how much higher than your knee that the hem of your dress rested. “Do you wanna go on a date, or something? Or do you already have plans for tonight?”

“Actually, I’m already going on a date tonight. It’s my first date with this guy.” You said, playing along.

“This guy?” He repeated.

“Yeah, he’s kinda cool. Most of the time he’s a total dork.” You teased.

“Well I hope that he takes care of you and treats you right by doing stuff like buying you gifts.” He said, holding up the small gift bag that you had been trying to not pay too much attention to.

Now you smiled as you gratefully took it from him. “That is so sweet. I really wasn’t expecting you to get me anything. Is this, like, customary, should I have gotten you a gift?”

“I’m not doing it ‘cause of first date etiquette or anything like that. I just really wanted you to have this.” He said.

“Honey…” You cooed as you reached a hand in. “You are so cute.”

Your fingertips brushed against something that felt like lace and you grabbed for the single item. There wasn’t much fabric, making for a light gift. You weren’t surprised to find it was a pair of rather revealing underwear. Looking up from the lingerie, you found him wearing a smile as he watched you. How long had he spent picturing you in these panties?

You assumed that these were meant to replace the underwear that he had literally torn off of your body during your most recent encounter. It wasn’t a necessary apology.

“Oh, very nice, it’s something we can both enjoy and get a lot of use out of, right?” You said. “Thank you Daddy, I’ll wear them for you lots.”

“Put them on right now.” It didn’t sound so much like a request.

But you didn’t immediately move to complete this action. “I’ve already got panties on.” Slowly, you began to gather up and lift the skirt of your dress. “I’m sure you’ll like them just as much…”

“That’s not the point.” He said before you could expose your underwear to him. “I really want you to wear these for our date.”

“Okay.” You said, reaching for the fabric that laid against your skin.

As you pulled the pastel-coloured underwear down, you almost asked him what he was up to. Because clearly something was afoot.

But you kept these thoughts to yourself, knowing that if he wanted every single thing questioned he would have picked a less submissive girl.

Something stiff brushed against your fingers as you were in the process of stepping into your new underwear. You paused, seeking further tactical investigation.

“What is-...”

You were moving the item closer to your face, when you were surprised by the feeling of vibrating in your hands. It was silent, but there was no mistaking the sensation when it happened directly against your fingers.

“Damiano! You bought me vibrating panties?” You asked, looking up to find his smile had grown. “I should have known.”

He showed you a tiny remote that he had been hiding out of sight until now. He pressed a button twice and you felt the vibrations increase, but they remained silent. You found where these were coming from: a small spot on the crotch of the panties. It was more compact than your bullet-style vibrator, the bulge it created was hardly noticeable.

“Do you still like them and think I’m so sweet for buying them?” He asked, already pleased by your response.

“Well yeah, but I’m not wearing these tonight. Not for the date. I’ll put them on as soon as we get to yours, but I’m not-...”

“Yes, you are.” He calmly interrupted you.

“Damiano…” How the Hell were you going to negotiate your way out of this? It was more public than you thought you were ready for.

“That’s why I bought them.” He said. “Come on, play along and make Daddy happy. They’ll make you happy too, I’m sure you’ll really like how they feel once you’re wearing them.”

You weren’t getting any closer to putting them on your body. “Yeah, I bet I will. But how will I be able to pay attention and enjoy the dinner and our conversation if I’m sitting there with a fucking vibrator on my pussy?”

His expression changed at that. “I won’t turn it on while we’re at the restaurant. That wasn’t my plan.”

“Really?” You asked, not buying his words even though he looked somewhat innocent presently.

“Totally.” He said instantly. “I want you to wear them to dinner ‘cause it will be a little sexy secret between us. It’s a reminder, pressed up against your skin the whole time, so then you absolutely cannot forget how insatiable I am for you. And then I would turn it on while we were driving home, put that time to use to get you worked up.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, ‘cause…”

“Okay, okay.” He said and he lifted his hands, further demonstrating innocence. “Here, you take this.” You accepted the tiny remote straight away. “And you can put this in your handbag, or put it in your backpack that’s gonna be in my boot the whole time. Does that work for you?”

You considered the device before curling your fingers around it. “Yep.”

Your handbag was sitting on the couch and you collected it, putting your phone inside. Then you placed the remote into your backpack, zipping it shut at once.

“Okay, put them on so we can leave. This restaurant will definitely judge us if we’re late for our reservation.” He said.

You pulled the new panties on, finding that they were the exact right size. The tiny vibrator was still now and its size didn’t make itself known. You thought you might forget its presence by the time you had walked to where his car was parked.

You picked up your handbag and lifted your full backpack from the ground. After the restaurant you would be returning to his apartment, carrying all of the supplies you would need for the weekend-long stay.

He held his hand out to you, reaching across the distance. You walked over and put your hand in his, smiling at this first physical contact of the night.

He didn’t instantly go for the exit, his eyes studying the features of your face - perhaps making up for the time you had spent apart. You took advantage of this moment, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You didn’t linger as long as you would have liked. And as soon as your eyes were open, you checked how much pigment had transferred to his mouth.

“It’s not that I don’t wanna tongue, but I want my lipstick to look good for at least some of tonight.” You said, explaining away your brevity.

“And it does look good. All of your makeup does- it’s really gorgeous.” He said.

“Thank you.” You said as he leaned in to give you a very light kiss on the cheek, leaving your blush undisturbed.

Then he moved over to your ear. “But I promise you that lipstick is going to be ruined before you step foot in my apartment. Maybe more than the lipstick.”

You smiled and acted as if these words had very little effect on you. You didn’t let your expression betray the instant images that fired into your mind, pretending there wasn’t an excited flurry of thoughts. The idea that he wouldn’t be able to control his desires until you had retired to total privacy - it was as flattering as it was thrilling. You liked it because it meant that you wouldn’t be waiting as long to indulge in some intimacy.

“Okay, just make sure I get at least one photo of this look first. I want some documentation of how I look ‘cause in hindsight we might forget details of this night, it might not be as easy to recall as other activities.” You said, choosing words that wouldn’t lead you down a path of only sexual innuendo.

“Oh, of course. We aren’t looking this good for only the other people in the restaurant to see us.” He said.

You were having thoughts full of sentiment. You were optimistic that this would lead to more dates - and when you reached some sort of anniversary, you would want to look back with clear recollection. You wanted a photo you could put in a frame, always admiring the official start of something wonderful.

He took your backpack from you, slinging it over his shoulder instead. He let you lead the way out of your home, waiting beside you as you locked the shut door.

As the two of you walked through the hall of your apartment building, he draped his arm around the back of your neck, keeping you close to his side. His fingers began to trace over your exposed shoulder, inviting warmth into your tummy. You wondered how much more of your skin that your dress displayed that he would be unable to resist touching.

*** *** ***

Hikaru was an Italian-Japanese fusion restaurant. It was at the top of a skyscraper, providing views of the city’s twinkling skyline.

Elsewhere in this building were shops named after a single designer brand. A few of the floors were taken up by a casino, you had never been there. But you weren’t unfamiliar with the cachet that its name carried. It was owned by some millionaire, a name you had heard on the news more than once.

You had looked at the restaurant’s menu online and the listed prices had intimidated you. You had thought it was fancier than any place you had ever been. And experiencing it in real life: it did not disappoint.

The restaurant was beautiful, classier and lovelier than an establishment you would have selected. The dining room was surrounded by glass walls, making the area appear limitless and keeping anyone from having a less than great view of the city. None of the other diners were having loud conversations, there was a wonderful absence of screaming or otherwise aggravated children.

You wondered if this was what it was like all of the time for people who were rich. Were they always in aesthetically pleasing rooms with everyone trying to keep the atmosphere as calm as possible?

You observed it all as if you were a tourist. You chose to be fascinated, instead of getting stuck feeling horribly out of place. Damiano played along with you. Whenever a fellow patron passed by your table, the two of you tried to guess how many homes they owned. The numbers fluctuated as you tried to surprise each other.

He ordered grilled barramundi with roasted vegetables. Amongst the adventurous-sounding mains, you picked something that had some familiar (and therefore safe) aspects. You asked for the squid ink spaghetti, which came with tomato sauce and anchovies.

“And isn’t this so much better than a loud movie in some cramped cinema?” He asked as the waiter walked away, taking your order to the kitchen.

You couldn’t help theatrically rolling your eyes before you answered. “Yes, Damiano. You were right, you’re always right.”

He smiled and eagerly leaned a little further onto the table. “Ooh, I like how that sounds. Say it again for me.”

“No, I’m good.”

“So you said that you’ve had a passable first date or two at the movies. Where have your bad first dates happened?” He asked.

You didn’t have to pause to think about it. There was only one guy that could be your answer, the afternoon with absolutely no redeeming qualities.

“His name was Remo. We were fixed up. He worked with Donna and she thought we would be a good match, and he needed a good match ‘cause he had just broken up with his girlfriend after living with her for two years. Would you like to know why they broke up?” You asked.

“Sure.”

“She was cheating on him with five guys.” You said and his eyes grew wide. “I could probably tell you all five of their names, ‘cause he told them to me. He told me every detail of that break-up, for the entirety of our first date. Which, by the way, was the first time I had ever met him.”

“Shit, it sounds like the good match he needed was with a therapist.” He said. “How many other dates did you have with him?”

You maintained your straight face. “Like, fifty. I’m still seeing him, we’re going out tomorrow night.”

He grabbed his cloth napkin, momentarily lifting it. “If this wasn’t such a fancy place, I would throw this at you.”

“Don’t do that, I don’t wanna get kicked out before I find out what squid ink tastes like.” You joked.

He propped one of his elbows up on the table so he could rest his cheek on his fist as he smiled at you. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

“In the Renardo taxi, how could I forget?” You said.

Your brother had promised to pick you up from a friends’ birthday party, assuring he could have you home before your curfew.

When he had told you that he was coming from a gig with his new friend you hadn’t anticipated any issues. But Damiano’s influence had seen Renardo’s focus on the schedule slip. At the end of Måneskin’s show, they had hung around at the bar longer than expected. They had been having fun and the music playing loudly over the speakers had drowned out the sound of every call that you tried to place to your brother.

His car had pulled up almost an hour late. You had watched the minutes trickling by, knowing you wouldn’t make curfew. The two cheerful men in the front of the car hadn’t seemed truly sorry for messing you around and landing you in trouble. You hadn’t cared to listen to their explanations, which felt more like excuses as each of them struggled to hold back laughter.

“I still don’t think I’ve seen anyone angrier than you were that night.” Damiano recalled, and it was easier to smile about the whole thing now. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if steam literally shot out of your ears, like a cartoon.”

“Well it was very serious for me. I thought my parents were gonna cut me off from having the internet at home for a whole month.” You said, remembering how that had felt like a seriously dire scenario. “And it wasn’t even my fault.”

“You were so mad at me, you really wanted to hate my whole existence.” He said. “Until I complimented your hair.”

Your smile got bigger now. “You were the only person who saw that I was trying to channel Korra.”

“You gave up on giving us the cold shoulder as soon as I brought anime up.” He said.

“I remember how relieved I was that Ren had finally made a friend with some personality.” You said.

Damiano was the first friend of your brothers that you had hit it off with. Not only did he like the same shows as you, but he had cared to learn your opinions about them. It had been easy to talk with him immediately. You could remember the absence of feeling like you were being talked down to, and you enjoyed it as you would chatting with an established friend.

There was a sparkle in his eyes as he decided to tease you further. “Oh yeah, you liked my personality, but you didn’t like my name enough to remember it for when I saw you the next time, two weeks later.”

“I can’t help that I’m really terrible at names. How many more times do you want me to apologise for it?” You asked.

“It’s okay, I’ve moved past it.” He said. “Especially now I’m certain you’re never going to forget it again.”

As you waited for the food to arrive, you kept talking, wanting to know how his day had been. He had been preoccupied with his responsibilities to the band today. They were trying to figure out the running order for the songs to go on their new album.

It could be stressful at times, trying to organise them in a way that all four members would be happy with. Some of the songs meant different things to each of them, so his idea of where it would fit perfectly didn’t always sync up with the others. He told you about the negotiation tactics he had developed over the years.

When you saw him pull the phone out of his pocket, you assumed he was going to show you the current tracklist. But he didn’t turn the screen in your direction, nor did he spend much time looking at it himself. You were relieved that you didn’t have to compete with the device for his attention. He tapped at the screen a few times before setting it down, his eyes promptly returning to your face.

“What about her?” You asked quietly and made a subtle gesture to a woman in an orange blouse who was passing by your table.

He glanced at the stranger and gave her a quick assessment. “All of them.”

You furrowed your brow, chuckling at how he had seemingly forgotten your earlier game. “What, what do you mean?”

He didn’t budge from his position or show any confusion. “She owns all of the houses, every single one, she’s rich enough to own them all. Any house that you can think of: she owns it.”

The concept was so alien in comparison to your life that you began to laugh. You could scarcely remember the nerves you had felt when waiting for him to pick you up. Being in his presence was so reassuring that you had settled into the feeling that nothing would go wrong.

You were still laughing when the food arrived. His plate was set down first.

As the waiter turned to you, your legs flinched and tensed at what you thought was activity from the vibrator in your panties. It felt like external stimulation, but it ended too fast for you to properly identify it. You told yourself that it was just in your imagination as you shifted your ass in your seat.

“Do you like licorice?” Damiano asked once the waiter had left.

As you tried to figure out where this comment had come from, you were further distracted from the moment of possibly feeling the vibrator.

“Yes, why?”

“‘Cause it literally looks like you’re having a meal of black string licorice with some vegetables mixed in.” He said of your abnormally dark pasta.

“”I guess it does.” You said, feeling unphased by the unfamiliar sauce. “But I figured that I should try something that I can’t order at just any old restaurant. I want to get the full Hikaru experience.”

He hadn’t picked his cutlery up yet, just admiring you as you spoke. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re always very adventurous, I think that’s one of the things I love the most about you.”

Your heart got to fluttering at his use of the word love. 

“But if you totally hate it, you’re allowed to share mine.” He said.

“Thank you.” You said with a smile.

But his offer wasn’t necessary. From the first bite you found that you liked the savoury dish, enjoying the rich flavours. You consistently loaded up your fork, making sure to collect some of the salty anchovy.

“You haven’t told me how your day at work was yet.” He said.

You looked up from your food, twirling your fork uselessly in the air. “It’s not- there isn’t much to say. It’s just a bit boring compared to your job.”

“It’s not a competition. I don’t want you to think that I don’t want to hear because I’ve already decided my job is more exciting than being a dental hygienist.” He said. “It’s not like that, I’m interested in what kind of day you had.”

“Okay then.”

“I thought you liked your job, how come you’re calling it boring?” He asked.

“It is boring, that’s what I like about it.” You said. “It’s all routine, I never have to worry about any drama coming up. It’s not up to me to think up solutions for things and I make, like, minimal decisions.”

“And that’s how you thrive?” He asked.

“Hell yeah. I can’t explain to you the inner-peace that I feel when I’m behind a closed door and it’s just me and the dirty tools and the autoclave steriliser. I get everything cleaned, I get it all sorted into the right spot.” You said.

“That sounds really satisfying, actually.” He said.

“It is. I never have to take work home with me.” You said. “I like how predictable it is. That’s, like, the exact opposite of your job, but it’s good for me. I can get unpredictability in other parts of my life.”

“Yeah, I can make things more unpredictable for ya.” He said, raising his fork to his mouth.

Before you could begin to think of a response, he was distracting you with a nod in the direction of the man passing by your table. You glanced at the guy who had a pair of spectacles positioned quite low on the bridge of his nose.

“Three. But he brags about them.” You sneakily told your companion. “He acts like they’re-...” Your throat clenched and any other parts of your assumption were trapped, then forgotten.

The vibrating was back, and this time it was powerful enough that you could confidently label it. Your fork shook in the air as your knees raised in response to this continuing sensation. The unexpected stimulations continued longer than the previous activation.

The confusion rushed forward, taking up position as the dominant emotion as soon as the vibrations mercifully ended. Your lips were parted and your mind scrambled to understand this.

You glanced at Damiano, seeing he wasn’t alerted by your sudden silence. He was looking down at his plate as he cut off a section of fish.

You began to question what you had felt. How could the toy be switched on without your knowledge, it was safely in his car, inside of your backpack.

You didn’t give him any insight of what you were thinking. You knew he would make fun of you if you were just imagining all of this. He would take the teasing further, wanting to get as much out of this moment as possible.

As more time passed between you and that sensation, you found it easier to stop fixating on. You straightened up, collecting your fork and returning to your meal now that things were back to being clearer in your head. You had another mouthful, looking to him.

“I told you about Remo, are you gonna tell me about your worst first date?” You asked.

He put his cutlery down, folding his arms on the table as he gave you his undivided attention. “You didn’t finish telling me that story. Surely there was something good that happened, it couldn’t have been all bad.”

“It could because it was.” You said. “The date was in the middle of summer, on this really, truly disgustingly hot day. And he takes me to this place: McFly’s, and their air conditioning isn’t working.”

“Oh-no.” He said, wearing an amused smile.

“Have you ever been? It’s this fake American retro place so it’s booths made of leather.” You said, noticing how his eyes went to his phone, but you didn’t put any thought into it. “I’m in shorts so my skin is sticking to the fucking leather and every time that I move it’s making these horrible noises. I was-...”

You jolted at the feeling of more vibrations between your thighs. You just stared at him, feeling your gut clench as the toy kept silently buzzing.

He looked at you, eyebrows raising curiously. “You were what?”

“So uncomfortable.” You said as you placed your fork down, beginning to squirm in your seat a little.

“Something the matter, honey?”

You worked your hardest to not notice the vibrations, to not let them affect you. Because you wanted to stay in control.

Before speaking, you cupped a hand to the left side of your lips, an attempt to gain some privacy. “I think my, uh, gift is malfunctioning.”

He leaned in, brow furrowing in concern. “Malfunctioning, in what way?”

You struggled to swallow, the pulsations really wanted your attention. “It’s on, I can feel it right now.”

“Really, what does it feel like?” He asked.

“Like a vibrator. How come it’s on? The remote is in your car, it shouldn’t be…” You trailed off, shifting your weight to the other asscheek as you watched him pick his phone up.

“Is it really intense?” He asked. The way he was holding his phone covered the lower half of his face and he was touching the screen. “How would you rate it out of ten?”

You paused, your jaw clenched as the tension in your body increased. You couldn’t understand his motivation behind this line of questioning. Maybe it was because your thoughts were less organised than usual, but you didn’t see how this would help you to a solution.

Then you noticed the creases that had formed in the corners of his eyes, present because he was smiling. Before you could start trying to guess at what had him so amused, the toy’s pulsations got more persistent. The hidden device shook powerfully between your thighs.

“What about now?” He asked and the increase in the vibrations was obvious, growing to be more of a challenge to your control. “Would you describe it as less or more intense? Or is it about the same?”

“Damiano…” You began through gritted teeth.

He slightly lowered his phone and now you could see how big his smile was. “Yes, honey?”

“Why are these fucking panties vibrating right now?” You asked, conscious of keeping your voice quiet enough that only he could hear.

“Oh, did I neglect to mention that it can be controlled by my phone?” He said, turning the device around so you could see its screen. It was displaying an app you had never seen before, but it didn’t look very complicated.

You rested your forehead in your hand, you were already certain that this wouldn’t be over quickly. The sparkle in his eyes told you just how playful he was feeling. “Yes, you did neglect that.”

“Oops.” He said.

You watched him place the phone down without giving it any extra taps. The screen timed out from inactivity and he picked up his cutlery again, his movements had a leisurely fashion.

You leaned forward, trying to get relief from the pulsations. But this position gave you the opposite of what you wanted, pressing the vibrator directly up against your labia. It wanted to unlock your greatest sensitivities and there was already a tremor through your pussy.

You drew in a sharp breath and leaned back, really pushing your weight into the chair. Beneath the table, you moved your legs apart, trying to not trap the toy. Maybe you were feeling it a little less, but the muscles in your thighs twitched a bit.

A strangled groan came from the back of your throat. “Why is it on?”

“Why not?”

“You said you weren’t going to use it ‘til we were driving home.” You reminded him, unable to keep the whiney tone out of your voice.

“Yeah, but you know how much I love to watch you squirm. And I’ll barely get to enjoy it while I’m driving the car.” He said. “You’re just so pretty right now, your eyes are so wide and you’re breathing really fast. Daddy likes you like this, and why should I only get to enjoy it when we’re in the bedroom?”

It was getting harder to construct coherent and complete thoughts. The blood was practically racing into your cunt, demanding that you notice how it was feeling. Your nerves were getting more fine-tuned, the reactions of your body growing more significant to you.

You didn’t know what to say back to him. You were yet to figure out your path out of this - did it exist?

“Do you need to excuse yourself for the bathroom so you can take them off?” He asked.

“What?” You hissed at him. “Are you crazy? I can’t walk around in public without fucking panties on, you’ve seen how short my dress is.”

When walking to the table, you hadn’t been scared of flashing your underwear to the room. But you had kept yourself aware of how the skirt of the dress felt. And you had been ready to push the material down in a second.

The possibility of the skirt hitching up by getting stuck on your handbag, or the wind picking up the hem, to expose your cunt to so many strangers was terrifying. You didn’t think that you would ever be able to recover from that level of humiliation.

“You can.” He said. “Or you can use your safe word.”

You sucked on the inside of your cheek as you tried to rationally think this through.

As more of your control fell, his clearly rose and you could see how much he was enjoying it. As he watched you he wasn’t just entertained, he was visibly excited. And you loved to be the source of that.

There was a feeling blooming in your chest as you kept feeling the device’s activity. You realised that he could make you feel dirty at any place, any time. You thought you had learnt this lesson when he had come into your tent to fuck you at the occupied campground.

But you were learning it at a deeper level now.

It was intimidating and there was certainly a threat of danger as you couldn’t forget about your location.

But you couldn’t make yourself want to run from it. You were feeling seduced by how evidently pleased he was.

“Desperate little girl.” He cooed at you and you nodded back at him. “Don’t let your pasta get cold before you’re finished with it.”

You felt like you had forgotten all about your food before you picked your fork up, gripping its handle tighter than before. The flavours didn’t appeal to you as much. In fact you could hardly taste the spaghetti as you slowly swallowed it.

Even though your heart continued to race, you felt like you had somewhat settled into this sensation. There was less surprise in how your body was reacting. You were thinking that you knew how to handle it and that you could control your behaviour.

With your knees kept slightly further than shoulder-width apart, you knew that you were the least ladylike female in this establishment. You didn’t have to look around at the other women to confirm this. Maybe your lack of modesty was creating a negative first impression to them.

But you couldn’t care about what they thought. Sitting in this way helped you feel less like you were waiting for an earthquake.

The only person whose thoughts you cared about was Damiano. If this was the kind of first date that he wanted, then you were determined to provide that for him. That was what you wanted, it was your greatest goal to be exactly what he wanted. You liked how his praise felt, enjoying that got stronger than the embarrassment.

“You like squid ink, huh?” He asked, watching you instead of eating his meal.

You kept using your hand to support your head. “Yeah. There’s really nothing strange about how it tastes. I guess it only sounds and looks weird.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it, babydoll.” He said.

As you chewed your next mouthful, your eyes went to where his phone rested. With the screen darkened it looked innocent, as if it couldn’t possibly be the cause of the troublesome teasing you were currently subjected to. Then you looked at him, he was gazing out at the twinkling skyline, appearing so carefree.

You shifted in your seat and found the toy pressing more firmly against you. Immediately you bit your bottom lip, willing yourself to not make a single noise as those vibrations massaged your labia majora. You couldn’t quite keep the smile off of your face at the memories this feeling was pulling forward. You knew how effortless (and rewarding) it would be to give in and you noticed how wet the panties had become.

You feared leaving a mark on the suede material of this chair. That thought helped to bring you back to your current reality. You readjusted your legs and straightened your back, finding it helped you feel a little less rattled - maybe it helped you to look more in control as well.

“Are you gonna leave it on for the rest of the night?” You asked. “Like, you’re not gonna turn it off until I’m taking them off?”

“I haven’t really decided yet.” He said. “Did you know that it has ten speeds? You’re sitting at about halfway for now.”

The smile fell off your face at that. It sounded like an impossible feat. “You’re not gonna turn it up, are you?”

“I haven’t decided that either.” He said.

“Please.” You whispered.

He didn’t grab his phone, just smiling at you. “You’re really pretty when you’re stressed like this. Look at you, you’ve started to sweat.”

You could feel the moisture on your brow, poised to ruin the makeup applied to your forehead. As you slowly twirled some of the pasta around the fork prongs, you couldn’t keep your foot still. You were trying to use some of the unpredictable energy that felt like it was fizzing in your veins. You incessantly tapped your toes, your knee bouncing at this fruitless rhythm.

“Do you remember the first time you ever imagined, or just thought about us fucking?” He asked, decidedly not whispering as he spoke.

“Oh my God.” You let the paranoia of being overheard by a closeby diner win. “Are we sure this is the right time and place to have this discussion? We’re in public.”

He didn’t waste any time looking around at the others, he wasn’t bothered in the slightest. “So don’t shout your answer.”

You laughed, still a bit in disbelief. “Oh, right.”

“So, do you remember?” He prompted again.

This wasn’t a memory that was within grasp for you. Maybe you would be better at answering if you had more time to think. And if you didn’t have an active vibrator on your pussy demanding your attention.

“I don’t know, do you?”

He immediately grinned. “Yep.”

“No way.” You said. “When?”

“Do you remember that tiny little bar, Moe’s? And Ren was dating the bartender there, what was his name again?”

“I definitely don’t remember that. But I remember Moe’s, yes.” You said, thinking that you already knew what night he was about to recall. But you didn’t know it from his perspective.

“That place was about the size of a matchbox. And yet, they were like: let’s put a pole in here.” He said and you nodded.

You hadn’t been there in a long time, but the gaudy gay bar was still clear in your mind. The decor had made for great settings for Instagram photos. No matter which night of the week you went, you were guaranteed to see a drag show.

It hadn’t seemed possible to have a bad night there. That was why you had been in attendance on the night he was referring to. It had been Thursday and you had been keenly looking forward to the weekend after spending time organising a Saturday date with a guy you had matched with on Tinder. But he had ghosted you, seeming to delete you from his consciousness.

You had never heard from him again, and now you couldn’t remember his name. Instead of staying home and feeling sorry for yourself (which had been a tempting prospect), you had gone to Moe’s to catch up with your brother. You had dressed yourself in something that made you feel confident and had set off, eager to hear the fun pop music.

You hadn’t been expecting to see Damiano that night. But his company was so appreciated, he had a knack for lifting you out of bad moods.

“You told me to get on the pole ‘cause everyone else was ignoring it.” He said.

“Because I know how much you like showing off.” You teased.

“I said I would if you did, but you didn’t know how and you were scared to try. You thought you were gonna look stupid or hurt yourself. But I promised that I would teach you.” He said.

You licked your lips. “And you’re a great teacher.”

“Yeah, you learnt a few tricks and nobody got hurt.”

You could remember how it had been the perfect distraction from your disappointment. The two of you had laughed a lot, sometimes too much to concentrate on the task. He had given you humorous pep talks and there had been plenty of farcical innuendo. Shots had lowered your need to oppose, as well.

He had been the best cheerleader you could have possibly hoped for and the pride had ballooned inside of you, leading you to getting into the activity even more. You had gained confidence in your ability to complete a front hook and a mermaid spin, tossing your hair about more-and-more. Under his watchful eye, your hands had slipped less.

“That turned you on?” You asked. Your memories weren’t cast in the same sexual light - it was a fun tidbit that you could tell people, always getting an amused response.

“Hell yes.” He immediately told you. “That was the most I had ever touched you. You pretty much wanted me to hold you up at the start, and holding you close like that, that felt really good and it gave me plenty of ideas, honey.”

His hand moved over to his phone, his fingers hovering above the screen. His eyes darted down to the device for a millisecond, then he was watching your face as he turned the vibrations up to a higher setting. You bit on your bottom lip, but you couldn’t help smiling at how the pulsations teased you. It could have been so easy to stop resisting them.

“You had me putting your hands and legs in the right spots.” He said. “And having your gorgeous curves in my hands like that, I never wanted to stop touching you and I wanted to touch you in so many other places. So while I was pretending to care about the sunwheel, I was really just thinking about all the ways I could touch you if we weren’t in public.”

“I had no idea.” You said.

“And that made it even hotter. You were so oblivious to how much I wanted to fuck you. That got me so hard, it kept me hard. I couldn’t go to sleep without getting off that night and I was thinking about you when I did it. Even though I felt kinda bad about it, not wanting to cross that line or whatever.”

“Wow.”

“Yep, your body can make a man want to do some very depraved and very bad things. And you don’t even have to try.” He said and your eyes had started to slip down to his mouth as you listened.

“Oh my God, I, uh- I don’t know what to say, that’s just so sexy and it’s blowing my mind a bit.” You admitted. “That’s really dirty.”

“Uh-huh.” He said, nodding. “But that’s what you do to Daddy, you make him do such dirty things, make him wanna do dirty things to you.” His hand was close to his phone again. “But you like it, hm? Don’t you just love it when Daddy gets so dirty with you?”

You dropped your chin down close to your chest, feeling absolutely no faith in your poker face. “Yes, Daddy.”

You loved how that word tasted every single time that you said it. Saying it helped ease back your embarrassment a little. It was an invitation to inhabit the way your body was practically throbbing with unapologetic lust. And the persistent stimulations from the vibrator wanted you to indulge it even more.

It was getting more difficult to breathe, only getting worse when you felt the pulsations definitely increase. They were more insistent and your thoughts got truly derailed. Your thighs tensed as your cunt fluttered. You let out a whispered laugh, the sensations could make you hysterical.

“Do you think that you could orgasm just from this?” He asked.

You squeezed your eyes shut. The noises of the other diners seemed so loud as you wondered how you were going to balance yourself out. You truly doubted your ability to settle at this new level of intensity.

“Should we find out?” He asked.

You whipped your head up and leaned closer immediately. “No, please. Please, please, no, please not here, no.” His hand was still too close to his phone for your liking. “Please please. We can try that in the car, as much as you like. But not- please, not here.”

He picked up his cutlery, ignoring the phone for now. “Okay, babydoll. Come on, you’ve still got a couple of mouthfuls of your food left. You’re not too full for that, are you?”

“No.” You said, holding your fork with an unsteady hand.

Truthfully the food no longer held any of your interest. But you forced yourself to have more of the pasta, hoping it would be the distraction that you sorely needed.

“But it wasn’t. You were still so aware of how your clitoris was quivering and the panties were so wet against you.

When you saw him reaching for his phone, you feared the worst and you acted straight away. You needed to get to the phone before he could turn the toy up any higher. Your arm shot out and across, your fingers extended as you held your breath.

Your aim wasn’t as precise as you had thought and your wrist struck his glass of water. The force was great enough to knock the item over and you froze, watching water start to spill. It flew over the closeby edge, hitting the ground and breaking. More than a few people turned to look and you felt a far worse embarrassment. You clapped both hands over your mouth.

“I didn’t mean to do that, I didn’t think it- I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You said and the prospect of hiding under the table appealed to you greatly.

“It’s okay.” He said, directly contrasting how you felt as he calmly used a napkin to blot up the bigger splashes on the table. “It’s all okay, honey. Nothing got ruined. Well, aside from…”

No sooner than he had gestured to the broken glass, a member of the staff had rushed up. They didn’t waste any time, working quickly and carefully to collect the pieces of shattered glass, putting them into a small pail.

“I’m really sorry.” You said. “Let me help with-”

They held a hand up, stopping you before you could start to get up. “Please, I don’t want you to accidentally cut yourself. It’s better for the manager if I’m the one who gets hurt.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it at all.” They told you, before adding quietly. “Those glasses are the cheapest things in here.”

They thoroughly checked the floor for any remaining shards. It was a minute amount of mercy that he showed by turning the vibrations down (but not off). The worker produced a cloth to wipe the floor.

Then they stood up, looking at you and your date. “It didn’t get in anyone’s dinner, did it?”

“No, everything is totally fine up here.” He said.

“I’ll bring you a new glass.” They said. They didn’t leave straight away, pausing to give you another look. “Please don’t feel like you need to apologise anymore, sweetie. A broken glass isn’t something anyone here is gonna get upset over.”

“Thanks.” You said, smiling weakly before they left.

Nobody was paying much attention to what was going on at your table now. But the adrenaline was still pumping through your veins and you didn’t think it would level out anytime soon. You supported your head with a hand on your forehead.

“It’s okay, honey.” He said gently. “Don’t let your brain trick you into thinking this is a big deal because it isn’t.”

You slowly raised your eyes to his face. “I’m so embarrassed.”

His eyes glittered as he took in the expression you wore. “Aw, you’re even more stressed out now. It really is so fucking cute.” Maybe you would be able to enjoy this praise when you looked back on it. “Finish up what you want of your food because I have to get you home, I have to get you home real soon.”

*** *** ***

As soon as you had crossed the threshold, Damiano pulled you over and got you pinned to the closest wall. His lips covered yours with the most power yet. It was more passionate than the kisses he had given you in the elevator - a clear indication that the night was reaching its peak.

And you were feeling more than ready for that. He had kept the vibrator active in your panties for the entire drive away from the restaurant. He had controlled the steering wheel with one hand, so that he could hold your bare thigh with the other, gripping firmly enough that you felt his rings pressing into your skin.

Now that you were behind the locked door of his apartment, there was no holding back. Your bodies collided and hands groped, getting to do all of the things thought up during dinner. The lust was crazy now that it was getting set free and the flurry of activity made you feel giddy, almost as if you had consumed alcohol along with your meal.

“Thank you for letting me take the panties off.” You said, enjoying the break you were getting since taking the lingerie off in the elevator. The moist lace was held in your hand.

His fingers caressed your cheeks and in the pause between kisses you saw how big the smile on his face was. “Aw, my little girl couldn’t take much more of that, huh?” His lips surrounded your top lip, sucking and giving you the hint of a bite. “If you didn’t wanna be teased so much, then you shouldn’t be so fucking fun to play with.” More kisses stole your opportunity to respond. “Had you ever considered that?”

“No, I hadn’t.”

His hand went to your throat, using this to guide your head back against the wall. His fingers on your chin moved up, caressing your lips as he applied the front of his body to yours. You wrapped your lips around his fingers as he began to kiss down the side of your neck. His hips pressed against yours and you were gloriously trapped as the anticipation only grew.

At first he reached underneath your dress, getting to what he could beneath the material. He gripped your body to him as his mouth travelled toward your cleavage. You wanted to get a little satisfaction for your own cravings and you pushed his leather jacket off of his shoulders. You couldn’t get his arms free of the item, but at least you could now feel his body heat through his shirt.

“You made yourself up so pretty for me.” He said. His breath was hot on the tops of your tits as he hardly paused from kissing (and gently sucking) the skin here.

“You did too.” You said. “I couldn’t imagine a sexier guy to take me on a date. Have I mentioned that I fucking love how you take the buttons on a shirt as a suggestion?” He giggled. “More than once I was wishing I could use your pecs as a plate, so that I would have an excuse to lick them.”

“I’m glad you think I look good. I had to, for you, honey.” He said, your eyes meeting. “I wanted you to know how proud I am to get to take you out.”

You felt like your heart could melt as you stared into his eyes. At once you knew that you had nothing to say that was worthy of following his statement. None of the words you possessed could properly encapsulate your emotions. Nothing would be profound enough, nothing could carry the same significance.

You tried to express yourself with actions, pulling him in for a kiss. His lips worked with yours, giving you reassurance in this moment. Your hands returned to the task of getting his jacket off. He helped you follow through, the garment discarded and you eagerly plunged your hands into the very open collar of his shirt.

You didn’t have to guide him in any way, he knew exactly where the zipper on your dress was. From behind your back, he began to pull it down. You were relieved to have your chest freed from the corset-style bodice.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard about women who fuck on the first date. Hopefully nothing too disparaging.” He said as you undid the buttons on his shirt. “But I just want you to know, so that you don’t worry… I’m not gonna respect you any less ‘cause we’re sleeping together on the first date.”

You threw his red shirt away and rolled your eyes. “Kiss me, you dork.”

Your mouth was already open as he leaned back into you. You held the nape of his neck as you kissed, his tongue voyaging into your mouth. You tasted the cigarette he had smoked while driving, at the same time that you gained a strong sniff of his cologne. His arms encircled your waist and you had the desire to be entirely wrapped up.

When his hips returned to yours, you felt the stiffness that was still hidden in his pants. It kept you giddy, that swarm of butterflies still in your tummy. You keenly pushed your hips into him, wanting less distance between your bodies. He pushed back until you were grinding on each other - there was so much energy that was begging to be used.

“I wanna do something new tonight. Do you trust me?” He asked.

“Always, Daddy.” You supplied immediately.

He took your hands and secured another kiss from your lips before starting out of this entryway. You squeezed his hand as you followed along closely. You didn’t know what to guess, what did you want it to be? You thought about the things you hadn’t yet experienced with him, those positions that had gotten your imagination racing.

He got you to sit down on the bed while he went to the chest of drawers. There were still toys of his that you hadn’t explored yet.

When he turned back to face you he showed you the bundles of black rope in his hands. You knew that it was a special type of rope, designed to not hurt or irritate your skin. But that was where your knowledge ended. There were no limits to the possibilities of what he could do with it.

“I hope you’re ready to be in a bit of an unnatural position.” He said, unravelling the rope as he got closer.

“I think I am.” You said.

“This first part isn’t so scary- lie down on your tummy.” He said, his tone none too stern yet. You flipped yourself over, getting comfortable with your head to the side. He was still in your line of sight as he climbed onto the bed with you. “Look at this booty. Should I spank it? Breaking that glass, it seems like the kind of thing you could be punished over.”

“I didn’t mean to do that.” You said, squirming a little.

He rested the palm of his hand on your ass. “Have you ever heard the expression that the road to Hell is paved with good intentions?”

That didn’t sound like you were about to be forgiven. You shut your eyes and tried to prepare yourself.

But it didn’t come. “No. The way that you almost cringed yourself out of existence when it happened makes me think you’ve suffered enough.”

You let out a shaky breath, smiling as you looked at him again. He simply lifted his hand from your ass, going back to unravelling the rope.

“Can you lift this leg up for me? Bend it, kind of like you’re gonna kick your own ass.” He said and you raised your foot immediately. “Awesome, now do you think you could touch your wrist to this ankle?”

You felt a little uncoordinated, but there was nothing to stop you from completing the action. “Like this?”

“Perfect, babydoll.” He said. “How does that feel for you? Is that uncomfortable or do you think you could hold it?”

“It’s not uncomfortable.” You said. The stretch you were feeling in your limbs wasn’t typical, but it also wasn’t painful.

“What if I tied them together? Would that be alright?” He asked, his tone giving you the sense that this could be negotiated.

“Yeah, I’ll give that a try.”

You felt how non-abrasive the rope was as soon as he began winding it around your wrist. You were helplessly exposed to him as he worked. There wasn’t a single thing he couldn’t do to your body right now and the sense of having no control titillated you.

He wrapped the rope around your wrist and ankle, a knot resting between them. You didn’t feel these new cuffs digging into your skin. It was deceptively gentle, and you were surprised by how much they actually limited you when you attempted to move. Your wiggling was ineffective as you found how little give the ropes had. Aside from flexing your fingers, there wasn’t much you could do with the left side of your body now.

He didn’t instantly move to tie up your other limbs, instead giving the back of your arm a slow stroke. “How does that feel? Is there any pain?”

“No, it’s okay.” You said, making sure to twist your head around so that you could drive this point home by looking in his eyes. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Good, because you have to tell me the second that it starts to hurt. I don’t care what part of the scene we’re up to, it’s never not a good time to tell me.” He said, inescapably serious in his every word. “It’s not just about blood flow being restricted. Wrists are really quite fragile and I don’t want to damage the joint, or damage you in any way. That’s not what this is about, so I need to trust that you’re taking your safety as seriously as I am.”

You nodded your head as best you could. “Yes, I am, I will.”

“I’m not trying to make it sound scary, but I just want to make sure you have all the information.” He said.

“I appreciate that.”

He gave your ass an affectionate pat. “My good girl understands her responsibilities.” He was smiling as he lifted himself to switch to the right side of your body. “Alright, I’ve got more knots to tie.”

He folded this second length of rope in half as you got your arm and leg into the correct position. You had practically no balance anymore. The majority of your body weight went to your chest, pressing it firmly to the mattress, which changed the way you were breathing. It didn’t keep you from filling your lungs, but you were more aware of your chest rising-and-falling than you typically would be.

He placed the doubled-over rope around both your wrist and ankle, feeding the ends through the loop created at the fold. He gave the end a gentle pull, introducing tension into the rope. He slid his index finger between the rope and your skin, checking it wasn’t too tight before continuing.

He wrapped the ropes around your joints again-and-again, you lost count after the third. His fingers worked without fumble, making you wonder just how many times he had done this.

He fixed everything in place with one final knot. “How is that for you, honey? Are you having any issues?”

“None at all.” You said, feeling pleased that his effort hadn’t been for nothing.

It became evident that you weren’t alone in being pleased. “You look so good. It’s even better than how I was imagining it.” He ran a single finger up the inside of your thigh, making you shiver as the excitement raced up your spine. “My sexy plaything, I can’t wait to make you feel just so spectacular.”

He got up from the bed. You didn’t strain your neck to keep an eye on him, even though you were so curious of what he would bring to you next. You rested the tip of your nose on the bed and tried to take in some deep breaths. Your body was in a peculiar position, but you felt more composed than you had at the restaurant. You had found your base, you were at the right starting point for whatever he had decided the rest of your night would be dedicated to.

“I think I’m gonna let you enjoy a toy that has proven to be very successful in the past.” He said.

You still didn’t check over your shoulder. You didn’t need to see this toy to identify it, you got all of the information that was required from the first touch.

You recognised the shape of the bulb as it was brought up to your cunt. You recognised the smooth, but not slippery finish that the device had. The vibrations weren’t set high enough to properly disrupt your peace yet, they just felt good as he pressed the toy against your labia majora.

It was the vibrating wand that you had been unable to resist, experimenting with it in secret, when you should have been watering pants and minding your own business.

With the time that had passed since then, you had really learnt of what the toy could do. And how much he could do with it.

He pushed it up, making space for it between your body and the mattress. You let out a whimper as you settled into these sensations, unable to resist, just like that first time. You didn’t have to hide that you were enjoying this, that the vibrations were getting you wetter as they intrigued rather than intimidated you.

“Is that the best toy ever?” He asked, the excitement in your body building as he maintained the right amount of pressure.

You were getting distracted from everything else. It felt like you could float away on bliss as your labia were massaged so consistently. It steadily had you feeling more sensitivities, rather than rushing and disorientating you.

“Best ever.” You agreed.

He got the toy’s head to a higher point, your labia majora the only thing keeping it from making contact with your clitoral hood. Your pelvis tilted as you started to feel the vibrations on a deeper level - soon it would be messing with your nerves, but that would be just fine by you.

“Who’s making you feel so good?” He asked.

“Daddy.” You were fast to tell him.

“That’s right.”

With some skillful manoeuvring, he got the toy’s head to make greater contact. Your labia were eased apart so that the vibrator could reach your clit. Your body gave a reactionary twitch and your breath briefly skipped. You couldn’t help the pathetic wiggle as you accepted this escalation.

Your mouth hung open as you tried to get yourself back to that baseline because you didn’t want to come too quickly. These sensations were shooting straight through you, affecting you down to the core. Slowly you came to notice a new sound in the room. And it took you another moment to acknowledge that you were the one making these strangled noises - they had begun with no awareness from you.

“Oh, has Daddy just found the magical spot?” He asked, the delight so clear in his voice.

“Fuck, yes.” You moaned.

If you had control over your hands then you would grab his wrist, keeping him from moving it. You would make sure that he didn’t take the toy away until you were done with it.

You felt his hand move away, leaving the limited space beneath your body. But the toy remained in place, the vibrations persisting. It shifted a little as your body writhed, but you pushed your cunt into the right place again, happy little sounds marking your victory.

“If you wanna keep enjoying that toy, you’ll have to find a way to keep it there yourself.” He said.

You almost laughed because it was so absurd. “You’re joking.”

“Are you sure about that?” He asked and you were aware of him getting up to leave you alone on the bed.

“How am I supposed to control a fucking toy when I’m all tied up?” You asked.

“Oh you’re a clever girl, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

You were quite unimpressed with the fact that you had to problem-solve. You were being forced to think when all that you wanted to do was go weak on the vibrator, you wanted the pleasure to erase all thoughts.

You clenched your thighs, bringing them to either side of the toy’s long handle. It took some strength but you succeeded in keeping the toy from rolling away or getting displaced. You tilted your pelvis, rewarded with more pulsations, not quite on your clit, but close enough that the nerves in the hood responded.

“I could keep holding it there for you. But I think it’s about time that you helped me to feel good too, hm?” He said.

You lifted your head, needing a moment to find the right angle so you could look at him. Your focus was instantly secured when you saw that he had finally taken his pants and underwear off. His boner was right there and your fingers twitched, new cravings sweeping through you.

“Yes, Daddy.” You said.

He smiled as he moved to sit down on the bed. He placed himself up at the head of the bed, pillows behind his back. He was close to where your immobile body was currently positioned.

You kept your eyes on him as he slid his ass down. This brought his body (and most importantly, his erection) closer to your face. You held your head up as high as you could, licking your lips. His fingers started to stroke through your hair.

“Is this my dessert?” You asked.

He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess it is.” He got in even closer, lifting your head and repositioning it to rest on his thigh. “Look at this. You wouldn’t let me cook for you for our first date. But here I am, about to feed you something only I can give to you.”

You didn’t have any witty comments that you could respond with. Instead you busied your mouth by applying kisses to the side of his length. You saw his dick twitch in his anticipation as you laid down one chaste kiss after another. You took your time, slowly indulging in his cock as the toy’s vibrations fed your lust even further.

You didn’t rush through the process of appreciating his cock. More of his primal scent filled your nostrils, an intoxicating aroma. You tried to surprise him, sporadically parting your lips so that you could glide your tongue along his hot and taut skin. You glanced up at him, finding his eyes had fluttered shut as the corners of his lips started to subtly lift. It was all the encouragement that you needed, progressing to kiss more of this middle portion of his dick.

He had stopped playing with your hair, now he wrapped some of the strands around his fingers. His other hand went to the underside of his erection, supporting it (or else presenting it like a meal on a silver platter). You kissed him a bit firmer now.

He started to rub his hand up-and-down in this position of passively holding his cock. He wasn’t going very fast, probably just enjoying a bit of motion.

You gradually kissed a trail in the direction of his tip. A move of your hips allowed you to feel the tireless vibrations with more strength. You moaned against his length.

He sharply inhaled as you got your mouth to his head. You parted your lips and moved your tongue forward. You worked it in a broad upward stroke. Then you moved your tongue in circles, creating a ring of your spit on just his head.

“Yes. Oh, my little girl knows how to tease me so nice.” He said, his voice quieter than it had been at any point of the night.

You encapsulated his tip with your mouth. Instead of instantly sucking, you kept your tongue as the star of the show, massaging him with an increased pressure. His fingers started to curl around his dick as his stroking came in with more purpose and speed.

As he pumped his cock against your mouth, you worked your hips into the mattress, rocking on the vibrating wand. You couldn’t let your desires truly run wild (that wasn’t how he wanted it) but there were rewards to your little movements. The beginnings of friction was wonderful, encouraging the warm pleasure to seep through more of your body.

“Oh yeah, you want some more of it?” He asked in a sweet tone.

He pulled his hand closer to himself as you pushed your lips forward. This was when you commenced sucking, creating a seal with your mouth. His hand kept at the final half of his erection, a distinct rhythm to be noticed. You tried to match this with how you moved your hips.

“Do you know that I can see the way you’re smiling?” He asked.

Smiling? You were instantly confused by this statement. You didn’t know that you were physically capable of smiling right now. Your lips were otherwise occupied.

But you weren’t going to take your mouth off of his dick to disagree over something so harmless.

“It’s not the first time I’ve seen you do it, either.” He said. “I’ve never had a girl smile while she sucks me off before. You’re so proud to do it.”

With some effort, you rocked yourself over to the side, emptying your mouth. You gasped in a deep breath as the pressure was temporarily alleviated from your chest. Your thighs kept the toy where it was needed. 

You licked up the length of his cock a few times, pausing to look at the pleased expression on his face. “Damn right I’m proud to suck it, I’m always proud to give you any kind of pleasure.” You resumed your licking.

His eyes appeared to become more focused. “That thing vibrating your clit isn’t the best toy ever… you are.”

Now you were definitely smiling as you tirelessly ran your tongue up his shaft.

He gathered your hair up into both of his hands. “Open up nice and wide, Daddy wants to feed it all to you now.” You pushed yourself back onto your chest, getting closer to his dick. “That’s right.” You wrapped your lips around him. “If your tummy wasn’t full after that pasta, I’m gonna make sure it gets full. I’m gonna give you so much cum to eat.”

The toy had been moved during your repositioning, the vibrations ceasing to have any effect on your clit. It was too low now, pulsating against the top of your thigh.

As you set your mouth into pacing on his dick, you decided to just let the vibrator go. You couldn’t be bothered to try to fix it. It would take a lot of effort to get it back to the right spot, and you couldn’t be sure the result would be worth it.

You put your focus and energy into something you knew would be entirely worth it. You slid your lips up-and-down his shaft. You were headed for the balls, but you didn’t push yourself to reach them at once. For now you were exploring your range of motion, finding a speed that could be maintained.

His head bumped and pushed against the roof of your mouth. He kept both hands in your hair but it didn’t seem that he was on the verge of tugging on the strands. You took this as a gesture of encouragement, rather than him wishing he could steer you.

“Do you wanna show me how much you can take?” He asked, not moving in any way that would be making the decision for you. “You took it really deep last time and I, oh, I loved how that felt.”

For a moment you plunged your mouth down, trying to fill all of him into your mouth. He gasped and his hands temporarily tensed in your hair. There was already drool on your chin as you pushed your tongue out, past your lips. You used this to get your first taste of his balls. You stroked the tip of your tongue against them for just a moment.

Then you had to retract for the sake of catching your breath. Your lips were back on him as quickly as you could manage. Starting at his tip, you created a firm ring around his width.

You took your time in drawing his entire length into your mouth. You chose to give almost every inch its own appreciation, letting his sensitivities develop. You worked yourself down a bit, then your mouth stroked him up-and-down from this point, hinting at the tempo you could treat him with.

He whispered your name, his breath coming in heavier. Listening to his inescapably honest noises was a good distraction from the strain you were feeling in your neck. You didn’t let yourself acknowledge how uncomfortable this abnormal position was. You sucked your cheeks in tight around him, wanting to bring more sounds out of him before you considered tapping out.

You had gained his entire shaft into your mouth, that distinct flavour beginning to grace your tastebuds.

“Good girl.” He said, shifting a little in his current position. As the excitement grew, he had to work to hold himself back, but the reckless energy was lying in wait.

He let you take the next step in your own time. You moved your mouth to that point where his head was allowed into your throat.

“Yes.” He moaned, his extended legs hugging to your sides.

You eased back from this depth after some sucking. You used your lips to pump his cock, a fast motion that gave him more friction. You ended each swing downward by letting him touch the opening of your throat. You were always ready to take him back to this spot.

His fingers conformed to the shape of the back of your head. He had started to lift his butt from the mattress slightly, so pleased with the pace you had created that he was contributing to it. As you moved together, his sounds got louder.

There was a subtle change and you realised that he had taken over the role of leader, setting the pace to what he desired. He was spending a little longer in your throat.

“Oh honey, I can’t wait to give you my cum. You’re doing such a great job at earning it. Mmn…” His hum was drawn out, then you felt a powerful twitch in his limbs. His hips snapped up faster than you were expecting and he hesitated from pulling out of your throat at once. “Uh, uh-huh.”

He eased back, his swollen tip rubbing against the roof of your mouth. You reaffirmed your mouth’s hold on his width. He didn’t pause to catch his breath, eagerly getting back to his rutting.

His movements grew to be less predictable for you and his reactions to the feeling of your throat got bigger. He continued to be in control of the rhythm. There was no chance for you to gain the authority back, now all of your effort was going to just keeping up with him. You worked to not get thrown off in between the moments of synching up.

His enjoyment didn’t suffer because you could no longer match him. Regardless of how you felt like you were failing to get back onto the perfect pacing, his sounds continued getting louder. You recognised the taste of his precum as it leaked out of him.

“Little girl, oh, oh, oh.” He whimpered as he grinded against your face. “Yes, fuck yes, yea-... fuck.”

He plunged right into your throat, immediately his cum coated this area, sliding down and demanding to be swallowed. You kept your lips set around him as he moved through his orgasm still vocalising. Some of the sounds that he made were close to words, while others didn’t have a single coherent syllable.

He slumped back and you took him the rest of the way out of your mouth, gasping in as much air as you could. You rolled onto your side a little, making refilling your lungs easier. Your contact with the vibrating wand ended. You rested your wet face on his thigh as you came back into your own body. The start of aches demanded to be acknowledged, there was no way to lie that made your limbs feel normal.

You looked up to him, finding he was leaning against the headboard for support now. He rested a hand over his face as he experienced the after-effects of his orgasm. But you couldn’t let him get lost in his recovery.

“Damiano, can I please be untied now?” You asked.

He sprung into action straight away, his hands reached out for the ropes. His fingers quickly got to work. “Are you okay? It hasn’t caused you any pain, has it?”

“No, I’m just starting to get kinda sore.” You told him.

It was an immense relief to get to stretch your left leg out. You pulled your arm around to the front of your body. None of your movements went unnoticed, you felt keenly aware of what each muscle was doing. Even once your right side was freed, you still felt the tension in your limbs.

“You did such an amazing job, honey. I was hoping we could get through the whole blow job with you bound and we did, you did.” He said as you rolled onto your back. “And that was your first time being restrained? You’re incredible, you’re so incredible.”

“Thank you Daddy.” You said, knowing there was no point in trying to match his current energy, that was beyond your capabilities.

He swooped down, covering your lips in kisses. “I’ll take care of you now. Roll over and I’ll massage your shoulders.”

You didn’t need any further convincing, rolling to return your tummy to the mattress. You had the unpleasant sensation of pins and needles in more than one spot on your body.

He applied his hands firmly to your shoulders, gripping and squeezing with the right amount of force. Then he pressed his thumbs against your skin, beginning to move them in a slow fanning motion. You let your eyes flutter shut, glad to feel the strain easing already.

“Is that good?” He asked when he relocated his thumbs to the nape of your neck. He pushed against the muscle with little circles.

You hummed. “It rocks. How come you’ve never massaged me before?”

“You haven’t ever asked for one.” He said.

“Well that’s about to change.” You said, making him laugh.

He pressed his knuckle against your spine and you let out a surprised sound as he rocked it back-and-forth. But it didn’t take long to settle into this feeling, deciding that you definitely liked it. He moved it down another inch or so, then repeated the technique.

“I love taking care of you.” He said, your focus keenly sharpened, but you couldn’t think of anything to say back. “And I think I’m pretty damn good at it.”

“You’re good at everything.” You managed to say.

He moved his hands up, concentrating on one of your arms then the other. The brief pressure that he applied felt good, it brought an immediate relaxation to each area.

Even though you figured that you would be too horny to actually fall asleep. His massage was so soothing that you could see it causing you to drift off, in another situation.

“Is that feeling better?” He asked as his fingers kneaded at the tight muscles in your thigh.

You moaned out your approval. “Hell yes.”

You couldn’t help moaning again as he pushed the heel of each palm up your thighs, you felt like you could melt. With each decadent rub from his hands, you could remember less clearly how it had felt to be tied up in such a strange position. You were on the way to forgetting it altogether.

He moved to sit in a different spot. “Come here and I’ll rub your neck some more.”

“That sounds so spectacular.” You said.

The strain in your body was gone, your muscles feeling at their usual low level of significance. He was sitting with his legs parted and you put yourself in the space between his thighs. You put your back to him, leaving a slight gap between the two of you.

His hands went to your shoulders and you made another happy vocalisation, feeling like you could melt again. He rubbed his fingers deep into your skin.

When he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck you let out a dreamy sigh. You leaned closer to him and rocked your head back. You were keen to increase the intimacy without getting into any trouble for challenging his authority.

He began to suck on your skin and you could feel heat rushing into your cunt. He pressed his chest to you and you grabbed for his leg, pressing your nails against his skin as he found a way to make this massage feel even better.

“That’s so good, Daddy.” You whispered.

He let you feel his teeth on your skin for a fleeting moment, before entirely releasing his mouth from this hold. “Do you need me to massage anywhere else?” Instantly your mind raced and his hands left your shoulders. “Maybe somewhere lower…”

You were so eager that you couldn’t help moaning as soon as you felt him cup a hand to your pussy. This was the part where you truly melted.

It was exciting to know that you were finally going to have his attention exactly where you wanted. It would be torturous if he teased your cunt any further. You needed the release more than anything.

He began to rub his fingers against your labia majora, a deep caress that wasn’t quite as deep as you required. At the same time he resumed kissing your neck. You weren’t paying much attention to the lengths of his sucks (you didn’t care if he was actively creating hickeys), you were focused on the rhythm that he was fondling you at. As he groped, he dragged his hand slowly up-and-down your crotch. It was such an enticing motion that you joined in on it, your breath coming in quicker as you rolled your hips in time with him.

He let you feel more pressure, leading him to use his fingers to part your labia. You put more strength into how you moved your hips, placing so much purpose into every pump. More-and-more blood came into your cunt and it was getting harder to keep your patience in check.

He pulled his hand up then pushed two of his fingers down, into the wet area where your clit was located. You barely choked back the sob that came from you when his fingers glided over the bud. At this point, your clitoris was practically aching for some attention. The keen nerves had made the hood stand up, so receptive to the unhurried rubbing.

You enjoyed how warm and soft his fingers were as they remained set in that predictable motion. Your skin between his lips was subjected to the occasional rubbing from his tongue. He prioritised sucking on you here over taking some deep breaths.

“Fuck…” You moaned when his fingertips glided down to your entrance.

He slightly curled these fingers and at the same time you plunged your hips forward into his hand with more power. You weren’t quite reckless yet. But the motivation was definitely there as this increased pressure invited lovely tingles into your body.

His fingertips briefly pushed into your cunt to conclude each stroke downward. This caused your inner-walls to clench, the eagerness ready to spill over at any second. He went in by about an inch before always pulling his fingers out and up, leaving you craving so much more. You whined, your desires fighting with your need to behave accordingly.

It took you time to recognise that he had stopped moving his hand. As he peppered the top of your shoulder with kisses, his arm didn’t move. The motion of his fingers was being created just by you. You grinded yourself up-and-down, his curled fingers gliding over the sensitive spots.

“Please.” You begged as your pussy was eased open with the tips of his fingers.

“Do you wanna come, little girl?” He asked.

You rested your head on his shoulder, needy moans falling from your lips. “So fucking bad.”

Instead of giving you more, he pulled his hand away altogether. Your clitoral hood pulsed, absolutely desperate to be given the right kind of stimulation.

He moved away from you. “Just let me put this condom on, then you can do whatever you like.”

You turned around, seeing him collect the packet that had been placed on the nightstand earlier. You hadn’t noticed it before, but now you saw that he was erect again.

“How do you feel about being on top?” He asked.

“I feel good about it, really good..” You said.

He began to lie down on his back. “Yeah, I thought you could have fun like this. Plus you look so good when you’re on top of me.”

You didn’t hesitate to climb on top of him, your knees going to either side of his hips. “Does this look good to you?”

“Hell yes.” He answered, wrapping his arms around your middle as he moved in to capture a kiss. “It feels just as good as it looks.”

You smiled before initiating the next kiss, not letting this one end as quickly as the last. You settled your body on top of his, wrapping an arm around his neck. You kissed him slow and deep, indulging in this feeling that was the beginning of your lust getting in sync with his. The entire night had been building up to this moment and you were so excited to discover how it would unfold.

The time for teasing was definitely over, so far as you were concerned. You hardly waited to start lining yourself up with his cock. It was a relief when he didn’t try to stop you.

It was an even greater relief when the head of his dick commenced stretching you open. You moved your hips down towards his body, at long last getting to feel stimulations on your inner-walls. Your puffy lips wrapped around him, prompting him to gasp against your mouth. You sucked on his lower lip as his arms tightened around you.

The connection was wonderful, feeling like it had been worth the wait. Your body was so tuned and ready for him, your cunt slicking his dick straight away.

Your rhythm on his lips started to suffer as your focus went to testing how your body could move on his. Feeble kisses were exchanged as you stroked yourself up-and-down his length. He swiped his tongue against your lip, his arms holding you so securely as you explored.

Your thrusts started to come in consistently. Your thighs gripped to his hips as you locked into this promising motion. The gaps between kisses lengthened as you grew similarly breathless.

“Show me how much you wanna come.” He commanded in a whisper.

Your hands were in fists around the pillow his head rested on as you brought your hips down on him at a quick and hungry speed. Well-timed writhing from him saw him plunging deeper into your sensitive pussy. These shocks radiated through your system, strong enough to overpower you. It had the potential to overwhelm you and you instantly wanted more of it.

You got obsessed with that depth and the push that preceded it. You sacrificed most of your coordination, now moving with reckless abandon. The sounds of your body slamming into him got louder, accompanied by his ragged breaths and your ecstatic whines.

His hands grasped your lower back, fingers creating dips in the soft area. “Use me to make yourself come, like a good girl. Do it.”

You jackhammered into him, your body consumed by your burning need. Each time his tip spread your clenching pussy, you felt yourself closer to that glimmering sensation of becoming complete.

But he beat you to the release. He convulsed up into you, burying every inch of himself into you. He pressed his face into your chest, you swiftly recognised his strangled noises as accompanying a climax.

You didn’t try to reclaim your friction as his body vibrated against yours. You were breathless, ready to be overcome. And the spasming of your over-stimulated pussy took you there.

You burst, your excitement reaching an unbelievable height. You threw your head back, letting out your loudest (and most triumphant) moan of the night. The release hit you on every single level, showing you that all of the effort had been worth it to claim that perfection, before you began to fade away.

You felt him moving and carefully repositioning you but you didn’t have the capacity to react. Maybe you were smiling as your back reached the mattress, or maybe you looked as mindless as you felt. It would be a task for later to piece yourself back together.

Sometime later, you were still feeling like you were floating as you started to open your eyes. He looked peaceful as he laid beside you, running his fingers through your messed-up hair. You saw the subtle but satisfied smile on his mouth.

You felt the echoes of your bursting, giving you a giddy rush and you were being urged on. You hadn’t expected to feel more energy and you needed to touch him, hear him, connect with him further.

You kissed him, then rushed to say something so he couldn’t ask what that was for. “You’ve gotta tell me, we never got to it- what was your most terrible first date?”

He pondered this as he rolled onto his side, facing you. “Well I used to think that all of them were fine, nothing to complain about, not to brag in contrast to your story. But after tonight and seeing how great that was… They’re all garbage. Every single first date that I’ve had before you was truly terrible.”

Why did hearing that make you feel like you needed to hide your face? His sincerity gave you a new reason to blush. “Oh my gosh, that’s so sweet.”

“It’s true, I hate to diss those other girls. But it is what it is.”

As you stared at him, noticing every detail of his face, that feeling of being urged on came back. It was deep and you were intimidated as it pulled you to him. You thought you might be as intimidated as you were right before you had slept with him the first time. You were in a similar position of feeling cautious as you faced the unknown.

“I think…”

His chuckle filled in the silence left by your hesitation. “You’ve still got thoughts in that head of yours? I wasn’t trying to make you brain dead with all of that teasing, but I thought it was a possibility.”

“Heh, yeah…” You quietly responded.

He was smiling as he caressed your cheek. “I’m sorry for interrupting, babydoll. Please, go on, what were you thinking about?”

Your breath was getting shorter. “I think I love you.”

Before you could take a breath, his lips were colliding with yours. “I love you too.”

THE END! thankyou for loving this trilogy, this fic is over now

»»————-　♡　————-««  

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[malina-33]

Femme Like You - Chapter 2

Chapter 1

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

Word count: 10,2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Immediately followed by:

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello my dear! How are you?"

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

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

"He assured me the boys liked you"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And I love you very much, hello mom"

"I'll pass it on, bye!"

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

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

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

"And how long do you look?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mutually, Miss" Rowley said enchanted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Coax me out my law

And have a spin of my propeller

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could swear your jaw was somewhere on the floor.

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

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

"Who doesn't like her?"

"Your truth" you nodded approvingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"All right, man" Turner said artificially.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"They'll kill each other"

"He doesn't stand a chance"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Why are you naked?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

Alex.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal, Miss Y/S"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What, for everyone?" Matt playfully refined.

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

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

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

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

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

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

xo🤍

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

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

[lifeofa-fangirl]

How cute is this blurb?? It hits home at the moment (iykyk) and yet I couldn't stop giggling. Wish I had a Damiano to help me back up and make things better. So cute, Laura!!!

can i get a 49 with damiano?? eventually with vic

congrats on 500 followers!!

“You owe me a kiss.” + Damiano

You couldn't remember how it started. Some stupid bet on a drunken night, probably, something harmless and fun, something that had long evolved into a competition between Damiano and you, constantly sizing each other up to see who would pose the next challenge and who would fulfill the dares. It was silly, really.

Bet you can't get Ethan to smile fully with his teeth.

Bet you wouldn't dare put your hand between Thomas' legs on stage.

It usually ended with little forfeits, doing the other's laundry, picking up coffee every morning for a week. You weren't prepared for him to up the ante.

"Bet you don't dare to run on stage like a crazed fan that escaped security and kiss Victoria in front of everyone."

"You severely underestimate me, Damiano. What do I get out of it?"

"If you do it, I'll do whatever you want for a whole day, any day of your choosing. Your personal little slave." You almost blushed at his words but managed to keep your composure. "If you lose, I get a kiss. Not a peck. A real one."

You didn't know what had possessed him, and your mind was spinning with the possibilities that this challenge brought you. A way out of the grey zone, to finally cross the line, to admit what neither of you would say out loud. So you agreed.

You were prepared to do it, too. Standing backstage, watching the band play from the side, you waited for your perfect moment. The beginning of I Wanna Be Your Slaved presented an opportunity, Victoria wasn't playing yet, but distracted enough by the audience, mouthing along to the song. One deep breath, and you ran across the stage, passing Thomas, who looked at you wide-eyed, then Damiano, grinning through the lyrics, and -

You stumbled.

You weren't sure what your foot had gotten caught on, a cable, a water bottle, a towel, but it didn't matter as you felt yourself fall, only just managing to brace yourself with your hands. The music ceased, excited murmurs going through the crowd, camera flashes, and a pair of hands hoisted you back to your feet. You would have rather stayed down, face to the ground, instead of seeing everyone stare at you. Damiano couldn't stop laughing, pressing a hasty kiss to your forehead before pushing you offstage.

"Guess we're going to start that song again!"

The dressing room seemed to be a good place to lick your wounds.

Until the gig ended, that was, and Damiano burst in, still all smiles and amusement.

"You owe me a kiss."

"I don't owe you shit. I would have done it, but you removed me from the stage."

"That was for your own good," he grinned as he plopped down onto the couch next to you. "Maybe a kiss to make it better then?"

"In that case, I should be asking you then, not the other way round."

He was all up in your face now, leaning over, a daring look in his eyes. He had apparently taken a shower right after performing because he smelled divine. It was clouding your senses.

"Maybe you should be asking then."

A look passed between you. His breath on your face. You couldn't find a reason not to.

"Kiss me, Damiano."

Right when his lips met yours, you decided you'd go through any dare he'd suggest if only this was your reward again.

[wh0r3-for-older-men]

Do you ever read every fanfiction to the point that you have to pretend you've never seen it before in your entire life as to properly enjoy it?

Like lando norris? Daniel ricciardo? Charles leclerc?

Who's that? Never heard of them?

When I tell you the way I switch obsessions is insane and I don't wanna leave this one 😭😭

(Also yes it's almost midnight on a school night and I need sleep cause I'm ill and have other medical issues that are affected by sleep but who cares)

Love you guys 💗

[marlena-immortale]

Playtime (Pt. 2): Playmate

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

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

Word Count: 6.5k

Masterlist ⭐️ Taglist ⭐️ Kofi

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— — — 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He raises an eyebrow and winks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— — — 

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

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

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

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

“So, the conversation went well I presume?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— — — 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[filthforfriends]

The Sun Is the Center of Everything

The unthinkable happens. You break up with the love of your life after 5 years together because addiction has turned him into a person you neither recognize nor like. Now you're forced to endue the pain of watching from afar until he decides to get his shit together. After months of floundering, Damiano takes sobriety seriously and theres noting more he wants than to fix things with you.

• Author's Note 1. Checking In 2. Sentient 3. Medicinal Qualities 4. Comfort 5. Scared Enough 6. Pistachio Gelato 7. Princess (The Cat) 8. I Miss You 9. Thirty-three Days 10. Little 11. Discomforting Rituals 12. Boundaries and Expectations 13. Homecoming 14. A Perfect Silence 15. Bath Time 16. A New Normal 17. In Vivid Color 18. Not Falling 19. Northern Lights 20. Talking Dirty

21. Brave Enough See latest update: Masterlist! Get on my Taglist

[mme-snow]

Free use with Måneskin Headcanons ♡

These are just some of my thoughts regarding how Måneskin would use a free use agreement!

Cw: established relationship, f!reader, cnc

Damiano

oh, he'd be a fan

we all know how comfortable damiano is in his skin and with his sexuality (as are all of them)

i also think he'd be very experimental, wanting to try most things at least once, so when you brought up the topic he was game immediately

it didn't take long for him to cash in on the agreement, practically vibrating with excitement as he spotted that one necklace around your neck

he'd spend the day bending you over furniture whenever you were least expecting it, leaving you a shaky and drooling mess every time

i also think he'd use it in a rather exhibitionistic way, mainly using it to fuck you while you have guests in the other room, hands held tightly behind your back so you could barely muffle your moans and whines for him

while i don't think it'd be one of his top kinks, i think he'd like it

"fuck, i can't believe you're letting me do this, amore. y'know the rest of the band is downstairs, you want them to hear you being a slut for me? better stay quiet then if you don't~"

Victoria

in victoria's case, i think she'd constantly be a pain

the second she sees the consent necklace she's teasing and touching you until you're practically dripping for her

then she'd bring you to the brink of an orgasm, just to pull away. multiple times.

usually she likes doing this by either eating you out or fingering you, but sometimes she'll experiment with having you ride her thigh maybe

of course she'd be clothed (at least wearing pants) while you'd be naked, making you drag your dripping cunt all over the rough denim of her jeans all while teasing you

she'd only let up after she's decided you've begged and made her cum enough

"aww, look at you, cucciola, i've barely done anything and you're already such a mess.. look at what a mess you're making on my jeans, you know how hard that'll be to get out? i don't think you deserve to cum after that"

Ethan

in my opinion he'd use your agreement rather sparingly

in fact you might think he'd already forgotten about it when he first makes use of this agreement

in reality, he just needs to be a certain mood (tense, frustrated, pent up)

so he'd use free use to fuck you hard, using your body as a pliant little toy for his pleasure

he'd have your body thrown over the arm of the couch in a heartbeat, eager hands already having stripped you before

after that it wouldn't take long for him to start pounding into you, not bothering to hit any of your good spots while his fingers dug into the skin of your hips, pulling on your hair, locking you in a chokehold, sure to leave bruises all while reminding you that you were just a doll for him to fuck and use as he pleased

the feeling of being nothing but a toy had you spiraling and coming despite him not hitting that spongy spot inside of you or touching your clit

he was quick to jump onto this though, telling you how your body knew it was just meant to be used by him

"cazzo, puttana, you're so fucking tight around me. just a little toy for me to use and dump my cum in, isn't that right? my dumb little doll"

Thomas

i also think he wouldn't use it often, but when he does he'd be the polar opposite to ethan

he'd just want to make you feel good, take care of you

he'd spend hours buried between your thighs, using his fingers and tongue to get you off again and again

during this he might rut against the bed, whimpering pathetically against your folds as he finally came in his pants almost purely from pleasing you

i do think he'd naturally take a rather submissive role in the bedroom, just wanting you to feel good

he'd feel bad using you to get off, no matter how often you tell him it's okay

"you taste so sweet, dolcezza, fuck- could be here all day long, please, c'mon, i know you can give me one more- just one more, micetta, please-"

A/N: hi! i've never written for måneskin before and i'm a new fan, so i hope it fits in alright!

[wonderlandishell]

I'll find a new place to be from

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

Read on ao3

[hollywoodroses]

Divinity School for Girls: PSA | only on Netflix

A Damiano David fan fiction blurb

a/n: The fictional Divinity School for Girls is a university, every student is 19 years of age and older.

a/n #2: This is just an introduction to the story, written as a commercial of a Netflix film. Enjoy!

warning: mention of satanism

oh hi, my name is Anna and welcome to the Divinity School for Girls. Located just outside the Vatican in Rome our school is run by head nun, Sister Mary Ragazzi with our medical team lead by youth therapist Dr. Damiano David. Be careful what you wish for as Dr. David is secretly the son of satan, sent to corrupt all the school girls. Applications open for our Fall Semester! [screen goes black] releasing October 31