#daan x Paolo

[highbeeans]

For Kat and my contribution to the LM gift exchange!

Hope you enjoy this gift! 💜💜💜

[krimsnkramsart]

Daan & Paolo (& little Italia) for @fadagaski´s amazing story  “A Matter of Choice” 💕

[aeriadbraveheart]

Permission Granted

Daan/Paolo pairing from the great Kenzarelli multiverse, with of course, the girls Saar and Italia. (Although I was labeling stuff NICKY & JOE while making it)

Created this short for the lovely @ignisentis for our Winter Exchange!!

I thought I wouldn't make it on time hahahahaha the recording and IG layouts were last minute touches. Well who decided to "let's maybe try to do something different with our style" in the very first place idk" 🙈🙈🙈

You can find all other wonderful works/stories here [x].

[maghrib-genova]

Daan, a charming man, a loving father, and a respected chef. A man whose experiences with love have made him think that he will never find his soulmate, a person made just for him, who will fill the emptiness of his heart.

Paolo, a sweet and gentle soul, a loving brother, and a famous architect. A romantic at heart who dreams of having a happy life with his prince charming, his childhood love, the man who still owns his heart.

Two beautiful hearts meant to be together since the first day they looked into each other's eyes all those years back.

When their happiness is challenged because of the deepest desire in their heart to complete their lives, will their love survive beyond pain, beyond jealousy, beyond denial, and... Beyond time?

Trailer for Third Generation ( Daan x Paolo) Beyond Time : The reign of Love Mega Crossover AU series.

Trailer by @scarlet-welly-boots | cc team @mother-of-hedgehogs @blustarfish

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[Song : Flower - Johnny Stimson]

[cookiemom6067]

@quinbi @kenzarelli-intothemultiverse

For "Hello, Daddy" and "Fabio's Talent Show"

[isabellehemlock]

Paolo considered Italia to be the miracle of his life. He wasn't about to contemplate the ludicrous idea that he could somehow earn more than one in his lifetime.

Yet Daan was very persistent.

Or.

Paolo moves to the Netherlands with his young daughter, and meets Daan in the most serendipitous way during his first week in the new country. But as charismatic and welcoming as his new neighbor is, Daan is very much seeking female companionship only (or, so Paolo thinks).

Paolo easily pushes his own feelings aside, and is determined not to lose the only friend he has managed to make in an unfamiliar place. Especially, since he's got other things to focus on.

What ensues is a year of misunderstandings, as two friends move towards something neither had considered before: a family.

Two chapters (out of ten) can be read here on AO3.

Weekly updates, of about 3k per chapter 💕

[fadagaski]

Hello! I hope you're sleeping better! If you're still open to prompts - Joe/Nicky or Pablo/Daan and "crush" or "dimples". You're one of my fav writers!! You also got me into Pablo/Daan. :D x

Hi nonny! Sorry for the delay on this. Thank you for sending me such a lovely ask! This is post-AMC Daan/Paolo where everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.

Rare are the afternoons like this, the whole apartment blissfully empty, Daan sprawled belly-first on the mattress, gold light spilling across his back catching every gentle rise and fall of his breath. Paolo rests the laundry basket on his hip, struck dumb again by the strength of feeling nailing him to the spot. Love and lust and sheer disbelief that this is his to enjoy, this view: Daan’s smooth skin, the rolling hills of his shoulders, his spine like a curving canyon down to the white sheet they use in summer when the nights are hot.

Life is so hectic, so full of Italia and Saar and work and chores and all the hundred thousand little things that eat up Paolo’s time. So he gives himself this selfish moment to look at his lover, how the light and shadow play across the expanse of his back, and remember how lucky he is.

Whether he breathes too deep a sigh, or the plastic of the laundry basket creaks, either way, Daan’s curly head lifts off the pillow. He turns to look over his shoulder - bunch of his bicep to prop him up, flex of his shoulder and neck, Paolo doesn’t have complicated tastes - and squints at Paolo stood stupid in the doorway.

“Hey,” he croaks, pushing himself up higher, onto his hands. The sheet falls from his waist, reveals the two dimples either side of his spine. Sense memory makes Paolo’s fingers twitch: those two divots are the perfect size for his thumbs when he, with his admittedly large hands, holds Daan by the hips from behind.

Paolo has always been weak to his strongest impulses, which is how he crosses to Daan in only a couple of long strides, kneel-walks on to the bed and eases Daan back down, belly-first and prone, face a few inches from Paolo’s knee.

“Okay?” Half-asleep again, Daan peers up at Paolo.

“I just - like your back.” Paolo’s face flushes hot but it hardly matters when no one can see it.

Humming pleased to himself, Daan shuffles forward enough to press a kiss to Paolo’s knee cap. It’s those little actions of casual intimacy that chase Paolo’s heart up into his throat. “Knock yourself out.”

Paolo has to flex the tingles out of his fingers first before he can apply them to Daan’s skin. Textured like satin over the shoulders, it softens down the length of his winding spine, kidskin at the base where those two dimples sit so inviting.

Daan wriggles until he is comfortable, shown when he lets out a deep sigh. Paolo lets his hands wander, hungry for touch. Strokes from top to bottom over and over, mesmerising himself with the rhythm. There’s just his hands and the light working in tandem, petting the length of Daan’s back.

And when the impulse takes him, and Paolo presses twin kisses to the brackets either side of Daan’s backbone, Daan’s all but asleep, murmurs something Dutch that Paolo hasn’t learnt yet, and his heart is full to burst.

Daan’s arm searches out, grabs hold of Paolo’s shirt and gives a surprisingly strong tug. Paolo goes as directed, moving carefully, tucks himself down the length of Daan’s side. He’s not even tired, really, but the apartment is empty and the laundry can wait.

Rare are the afternoons like this where Paolo can lie in bed and stare at his love in the light.

[lisagarlandd]

How Daan look at his sleeping husband

@maghrib-genova @mother-of-hedgehogs

[highbeeans]

Paolo sticker set for my boo @statisticallymorelikely​! 💜💜💜

You can get your own set too, over here!

IG | Twitter | Pixiv | Ko-fi | Redbubble

[scarlet-welly-boots]

So, this one has taken a while. Fluff writing is hard, so much kudos to those of you who warm our hearts with such wonderful warm fics.  Endless thanks to @yogurtfordinner for betaing this. And thank you so much to @shadyhideoutreview for the gorgeous moodboard! So...here is my attempt of when Paolo met Daan. Another Crossover AU! I hope you enjoy <3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/29339895

[bewires]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Il Padre d'Italia (2017), Hartenstraat (2014) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Daan (Hartenstraat)/Paolo Guerrisi Characters: Daan (Hartenstraat), Paolo Guerrisi Additional Tags: First Time, Quiet Sex, Domestic, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, i guess?, Expanded Kaysanova Cinematic Universe Summary:

Paolo gasps.

He freezes, immediately after.

It’s quiet.

There’s the far-off noise of traffic, the electric whoosh of the trams that Paolo’s still not used to after almost a year in Amsterdam, the flutter of wings from the pair of pigeons that have taken up residence on the roof above Daan’s building.

“No one’s awake,” Daan whispers. He shifts closer.

(Or: Having sex is hard when you have two kids, logistically. Also, apparently, emotionally.)

[lillian1396]

I just found out that il padre d' Italia is coming to Netflix on Wednesday! I never was so happy to start a new week🔥😍

[maghrib-genova]

Paolo singing a song "il mare d'inverno" for Daan.

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Lyrics [Il mare d'inverno, È un concetto che il pensiero, Non considera, È poco moderno, È qualcosa che nessuno, Mai desidera, Alberghi chiusi, Manifesti già sbiaditi Di pubblicità,Macchine tracciano, Solchi su strade, Dove la pioggia, D'estate non cade,E io che non riesco nemmeno, A parlare con me.]

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Translation [The winter sea ~ is a concept that the mind doesn't contemplate ~ It's not very modern ~ it's something that no one ever desires. ~ Hotels closed ~ posters already faded by advertising.~ Cars tracing lines on the roads.~ where the summer rain doesn't fall ~and I ~ I cannot even speak with myself. .]

Thank you @scarlet-welly-boots for Daan's clip.

[tobebbanburg]

Rating: Explicit Relationships: Daan (Hartenstraat)/Paolo Guerrisi Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, treehouse sex, Wall Sex, no splinters don't worry, Sex as a distraction Summary:

The treehouse, Daan thought, was a deathtrap in disguise. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t trust Paolo’s workmanship (in fact he doubted he would have been happy if anyone else had been on the project), it was more that he didn’t trust… nature. The tree seemed to sway in the breeze, the branches and planks of brightly painted wood creaking in unison as the little house settled and adjusted, and as Daan watched a handful of leaves fluttered down from the higher branches, floating on the air. Saar wouldn’t float. How, exactly, was he supposed to be happy that the tree would support his daughter when it couldn’t even hold onto a few leaves?

[isabellehemlock]

Chapter Three is now up 💕

Paolo joins the parent club, meets Saar, and Italia gets a makeover - and yes, all those things are related :)

Read it here on AO3

I actually broke this chapter up, because I am determined to keep these chapters short lol and this one is still sitting at 4k 🙈

The second chunk is already mostly written and my hope is to upload it on Wednesday (fingers crossed). And without revealing any spoilers, I have to admit, the fluff factor in this fic keeps getting upped haha. I stand two daughters of single dads plotting to help them see the obvious 😏

[fadagaski]

Prompt: your current OTP + a fish (alive).

Paolo looks from clear blue sky to the hissing waves to Italia standing defiantly in front of him, fists on her hips, one clenched around a bucket.

"I want to see the fish," she declares.

A good father would indulge his daughter. A good father would shrug off a childhood fear of water. A good father would take his daughter's hand and lead her happily down to the shallows which are, Saar has informed them, teeming with silvery fish.

"Angel, I don't think -"

Italia stomps her foot. At four, she's got the tantrum performance down to a fine art. "I want to see the fish!"

Paolo glances at the open sea again and blanches.

"Come on then." Daan hops up from his towel, sunglasses perched jauntily on his nose as he offers his hand to Italia. "We'll go see the fish and then maybe get ice cream?"

"Yeah! Ice cream!"

They scurry down to the waves, little more than a, "Back soon!" drifting behind them. Paolo watches like a hawk. He trusts Daan with his life. He trusts Daan with Italia's life. He doesn't quite trust the sea.

He relaxes by increments, though, watching Italia prancing through the waves, following behind Daan as he points out creatures under the surface. Daan always keeps a close eye on Italia, hoisting her out of the path of the bigger waves - to her shrieking delight - and doting on her as she thrusts her bucket at him with all the imperious demand of an empress.

And it strikes him now, as it does occasionally, the relief at not being alone. He doesn't have to be mother, father, disciplinarian and playmate all at once. Nor is he burdened with guilt at saddling someone with the responsibility of Italia, in all her willful wonder. Daan chose to be this involved, chose to welcome and encourage Italia's affection. Chose to be Paolo's partner in whatever life throws at them next.

After ten minutes, Italia is cold and wet and grinning from ear to ear as she hurries up the beach, water slopping out of her bucket. "Papa! Look what I caught!" She stumbles the last metre, kicking sand over their towels. Saar graciously doesn't say anything as she knocks a small damp clump from her leg.

"Let's see this fish then." Paolo takes the bucket in hand before its contents also end up over Saar; he doubts she would be as forgiving of that.

Inside is a single fish, small and silver, seemingly unperturbed at its change of habitat. "Very pretty, angel. Well done for catching it!"

Italia grins, hopping from foot to foot. Her lips have started to turn blue: it's a warm day but she's wet through and skinny as a rake, vulnerable to the wind whipping off the water. "What will you call it?" he asks, a distraction while he wraps her up in a towel, chafing her arms to get some warmth into them.

"Umm. Broccoli."

It's as good a name as any, as far as Paolo is concerned.

He looks up from drying Italia's hair as Daan approaches. "Time for ice cream?"

In Paolo's lap, Italia is shivering. "Maybe later," he says.

Shrugging amiably, Daan flops down next to Paolo, hand resting on his knee. Paolo closes his eyes just to feel the warmth surrounding him, sun and skin and love.

"I wish we could stay here forever," Italia sighs, wistful.

"Me too, angel." Paolo is already thinking of the right time to slip Broccoli back into the water without causing untold drama. These perfect moments aren't meant to last, but it makes it all the sweeter to mark them, scribe them indelibly in the mind.

He's more certain nowadays that there are more to come.