#damiano david headcanon

[brokoala-soup]

NO Y'ALL DON'T GET IT

they're so marauders coded I'm crying

Bonus:

WOLFSTAR

I'M SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

𝑴å𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒕 ____ 𝒊𝒏 𝒃𝒆𝒅

f!reader for all members NSFW, MDNI 18+, descriptions of sexual acts, degradation, praise

Ethan Torchio : Stroke

Ethan's prowess comes alive in the intimacy of the moment. His strength and determination are palpable as he presses you into the mattress, his deep, rhythmic thrusts intensifying the connection between you. Each stroke is a blend of power and precision, a testament to his stamina honed through relentless drumming. Your moans fill the room, a symphony of desire and ecstasy. His whispers in Italian, whether you understand them or not, add an exotic, intoxicating element to the encounter, making the experience even more electrifying.

Victoria De Angelis : Pussy Eating

Vic’s dedication to your pleasure is unparalleled. She dives between your thighs with a fervor, her tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony. Her fingers curl inside you, finding that sweet spot effortlessly, making you see stars without the need for toys or straps. Her vocal encouragements are a tantalizing mix of praise and degradation. “Look at my little slut, come on,” she breathes as you teeter on the edge, her hands gripping your legs and pushing them to your chest. Her kisses on your thighs are the prelude to the most intense climax, and as you come, she dives back in, her tongue relentless. The overstimulation is deliberate, her sadistic streak shining through as she pushes you to your limits.

Thomas Raggi : Fingering

Thomas’s hands are his greatest asset, both on stage and in bed. His fingers move with the same dexterity and precision that make him a guitar virtuoso. He knows exactly how to make you squirm, his long fingers working you over with a relentless rhythm. His left hand presses down on your stomach, adding a delicious pressure that amplifies every sensation. The moment he finds your G-spot, you're lost, his mechanical movements driving you to the brink. The ribbed sensation of your walls clenching around his fingers sends you over the edge, and he revels in your squirting, a testament to his skill.

Damiano David : Vocalization

Damiano's voice is a weapon of seduction. He’s not afraid to communicate, to vocalize every dirty thought that crosses his mind. His deep, raspy voice sends shivers down your spine as he fingers you, each word a promise of the pleasure to come. “I wonder how good my dick is gonna feel inside this warm pussy,” he growls, his breath hot against your ear. Public encounters are even more thrilling; under the table at dinner, he’s a master of discretion and filth. “You’re so wet, I bet they can hear your pussy clenching and squelching for me,” he whispers, making you squirm in your seat. In the morning light, he’s the picture of raw desire, cigarette in hand as you ride him, his murmured Italian praises mixing with the sunrise, painting a picture of erotic perfection.

REQUESTS OPEN <3

[marlena-immortale]

How long into relationship with every må member do you think it would take to sleep together? Like a few weeks or on the first date ?

Vic: The least amount of time, she's a woman who knows exactly what she wants and she goes for it. If she wants you, she'd have you in her bed the same night she first lays eyes on you.

Ethan: For him, it would probably be fairly quick but he still takes his time making sure. He likes to build a bit of a connection first so he can really figure out what you like in bed beforehand.

Thomas: He likes to be respectful and play by the rules, so a few dates before sex is necessary. Plus that way he can really get to know you and see where the relationship is going before taking that next step. But it could still be casual, he's definitely down for a friends with benefits type of deal.

Damiano: He's someone who looks slutty on the outside, but is a total softie on the inside. He likes to wait the longest, maybe going so far as to wait till you're exclusive and serious about starting a relationship together. But the wait will absolutely be worth it. He likes to make it special once he finally does sleep with you.

[aidens-ocean-galaxy]

Damiano and Victoria as Sirius and Marlene

[filthforfriends]

Guardian Angel

Unbeknownst to you, the confluence of your life with Alpha!Damiano's gave him new purpose. Protecting you meant keeping his distance and he was doing so successfully until a meeting of chance. Upon returning his affection, Dami's extensive future plans of self-restraint crumble. He can't stay away, even as he throws every ounce of his self control and discipline into doing so.

• Imagine #1 • Imagine #2 1. An Educated Decision 2. Nuance 3. Biblical Levels of Temptation 4. Vampiriano 5. Unmarked 6. Issues of Personal Conduct 7. Love(ing) Bites (Deleted Scene) 8. Beautiful Breakable Bodies 9. Play the Part 10. Alpha Dysregulation Type 2 11. Ravenous (Deleted Scene) 12. White Flag Raised 13. The New Addendum 14. Lupina Bonus Chapter Masterlist Read it on AO3 Get on my Taglist

[bri-cheeses]

Barty would listen to Måneskin, and he would blast it in the dorm. Partially because he likes listening to his music out loud, partially because of the way Evan stares when Barty’s singing along to their Italian songs.

[liltaireissocute]

Hear me out

DAMIANO DAVID AS SIRIUS BLACK

[letmedownslows]

maneskin and theodore nott are sensitive subjects for me (cause I'm obsessed with them)

theo be like:

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Bayverse Headcanon: What kind of music do they like?

Idk why I had to do this, but I just had to.

Also, one day I might make more detailed versions of these scenarios.

Warning: Long af, spelling bc I'm dyslexic.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Leonardo:

There are a few sides to the leader in blue. The part that sits in the dojo for hours, meditating in complete silence. Probably one of the few things he had to practice on - meditating with noises all around him. And then there’s the part of him that listens to music, while doing mundane things. Whether it would be cleaning his room, taking a shower, a warm up before training or just chilling in his room or on the rooftops. Leo do enjoy music a lot, he just has clear rules for when he can hear it. No modern music in the dojo! Martial arts should be honored, and to do it in other that silence would be an insult to the arts and the old masters. But outside of the dojo, it would be possible to find Leo with a pair of headphones on every once in a while.

Leo is a rock kid. Not heavy metal - no - that is just not Leo’s kind of music. But old school rock and maybe even glam rock. It was usually music with prominent guitar or bass that he often found himself listening to. It kind of fitted the way he saw himself. Th stoic leader on the rooftop, fighting with an edgy soundtrack in his head. Edgy and cool being the way he described it in his own head. It gave him a slight tingle in his stomach, when he jumped from roof to roof with his headphones on, listening to certain rock songs. He felt like a true leader, jumping high over people’s head, listening to “Zitti E Buoni” by Måneskin. When really feeling it alone in the shower, with the same song booming from his blue bluetooth speaker, he would channel his inner Damiano David, singing along to the fast part without any mistakes. Now, Leo is not usually the one to sing along to songs. He doesn't even hum that often, but when he does, it is usually in the shower. But there was this one time Raph walked past the bathroom, while Leo was screaming his heart out to a Måneskin song. Usually Raph would find a way to make fun of his brother for such a thing, but this time Raph decided not to, mainly because it didn’t sound near as bad as Raph though Leo’s singing would do.

Another artist Leo would be singing along to in the shower is Micheal Jackson. He might even do a few dance moves, but he would NEVER IN HIS LIFE, do them outside of a locked bathroom.

One of Leo’s favorite bands had to be Blur. He really liked Damon Albarn’s voice and the guitar of Graham Coxon, and would often find himself listening to them before going to bed. At one point, Leo even tried to sneak out to see all of Blur play live. Did he get in? Yes. Did he watch them from somewhere just below the roof? Yes. Did the bassist spot Leo, blink in confusion, only to look back up to find the spot Leo had been hiding in empty, with Leo having fled the scene? Yes, and that’s why Leo doesn’t do concerts anymore. But he never told his brothers. Mikey would not be happy to know that Leo had sneaked into a concert, while having told Mikey time and time again that he wasn’t allowed to.

Leo has a thing for languages when it comes to music. He grew up in New York City with English as his first language, with Japanese from Splinter following right after as his second. He decided to learn Spanish, just in case it would get useful, and since he had an Italian first name, he also learned Italien. That would probably explain some of his love for Måneskin. But Leo just really liked languages. He doesn’t have to understand the lyrics in order to enjoy it. One prime example of that is the song “Stefania” by KALUSH and Kalush orchestra, even though it is hip hop in genre. Did Leo understand any Ukrainian? Nope. But did he have a general idea of what the song was about, and found the Ukrainian language beautiful and interesting? Yes, very much. He found the courage of Ukraine inspiring, and would often use that inspiration in his training, which is why this is one of the very few songs he will actually train to outside of warm ups.

A true bedroom song for Leo is “Demoni” by Joker Out. He wouldn’t do much while listening to that. He would just lay in bed with headphones one, eyes closed while either bobbing his head or right foot to the beat. Leo isn't much of a dancer, but more a bobber. That was usually how his brothers knew if he liked a certain song; he would bob his head slightly to the beat. That only fueled Mikey’s imagination, creating a picture in his head of Leo head banging in his room to heavy metal, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Stoic Leo didn’t head bang, but he did move at least his head or foot lightly.

Now, what does Leo’s brothers like about his music taste? Well, to be honest, most of the time they weren’t too sure what kind of music Leo liked. They did know that he was into rock, and they knew very well that at this point that he liked Måneskin and Micheal Jackson. But there was this one time while driving the garbage truck, that Leo somehow got in charge of the aux. None of the guys really knew what to expect, but “Gladiator” by Jann wasn’t it. Mikey even said something along the lines of; “emo Leo doesn’t listen to My Chemical Romance”, causing Leo to remember once again, why he normally didn’t want to be in charge of the aux, and liked keeping his music to himself.

Raphael:

Raph listens to music quite often. Probably not as often as Mikey, but still at way more than Donnie and Leo. One of the main reasons why Raph listens to so much music is - you probably guessed it - training. He would often lift his weights to the beat of the music, in a way that most humans could only dream of doing. But he would also listen to music on his own, either riding his motorcycle through the streets of New York City at night, or while knitting in his room.

A favorite song of Raphael’s to ride his motorcycle to was “Would You Ever” by Skrillex and Poo Bear. Swerving in and out of traffic, causing people to yell in anger in his direction, or causing groups of girls to giggle and point at the mysterious bad boy that just rode past them. Covered in a helmet and covered in a big leather jacket and cloves, he looks like a big hunk of a man, showing off his motorcycle. But would Raph play his music out loud while riding down the street? Normally he would not. But there was this one time he just couldn’t help himself. Stopping at a red light, Raph found himself beside an open roofed car, filled with giggling human girls. Most of them were tipsy, and Raph wouldn’t be too surprised if the girl in front of the steering wheel was too. Obviously, they had something for big guys, as they started asking about his name, how old he was, where he lived, or if they could get a ride on his motorcycle. Or if he would come ride with them. Raph didn’t say anything, he just pressed a button on his motorcycle, causing the music to disconnect from his helmet, and started playing from his motorcycle speakers. He saluted them, just as the light turned green, riding away while the girls stared at him in awe. In his opinion, it was very much worth it.

Raph has quite a few songs he liked lifting weights to. One of them being “Hello” by Will.I.Am. When Raphael is lifting weights, he will do it proud and loud, playing his music on a red speaker, much to the annoyance of Leonardo, who very much wants to meditate. When it came to boxing, Raph would often listen to Eminem, hyping himself up with the music or the angry lyrics, causing Mikey to ask him what the hell Eminem had done to him, since he would get the need to hit something whenever he heard his voice.

Raph would almost always find a reason to listen to Eminem. When Raph was angry and wanted to hit something; “Kamikaze”. Should Raph ever find himself mad at a woman; “Farewell”. Was Raph ever in a good mood and just wanted to dance and have fun; “Shake that”. But somehow, when Raph was sad, he wouldn’t listen to Emniem. If he was sad and decided to box, he would listen to The Weeknd. Mikey caught on to that pretty fast, and would do his little brother duty to bring up Raph’s mood, whenever he would hear the voice of The Weeknd from Raph's room.

Like Leo, Raph would also listen to music while showering. But it was while being alone in the bathroom, that Raph would listen to much that wasn’t often associated with big angry muscle men like him. It would often be more pop than electronic or hip hop. And god, how Raph hoped none of his brothers would hear him sing along to “i don’t wanna talk about love”, by Micheal Medrano. Raphael could just shut up and shower in silence, but nope, a man got to groove in the shower. Luckily for Raph, only Donnie had heard him once. Had Donnie laughed his ass off as soon as he got to his room afterwards? Yes, oh my god yes he had. But did he tell Mikey and Leo about it? Nope, he did not. But he did tell April and you about it though, and what a laugh you guys had over the phone.

Raph would never admit it to anyone, but he did listen to Madonna, and he did enjoy it. It started with “Future” by Madonna and Quavo, and before he knew it, he was sitting in his room enjoying both “Like A Prayer” and “Like A Virgin”, which led to him singing “Hung Up” in the shower. Madonna would lead to Dua Lipa, and before Raph even realized what was happening, half of his playlist would be pop power women. Loreen, Lady Gaga, old Miley Cyrus songs. And did he know the lyrics? Oh yes he did. And one time, his brothers would catch him listening to at least one of them.

It was one of those days where each turtle seemed to be doing their own thing, which left Raph alone with his work out equipment and his speaker. As usual it started out with Eminem, Juicy J, Kanye West and others, before suddenly “Rendez Vouz” by INNA. That caught Mikey’s attention, and once he heard and saw Raph dance and sing along from his hiding spot, he went to find Leo and Donnie. And oh, how they fought to keep from laughing when Raph started feeling himself too much, working out to “Work Bitch” by Brittney Spears. After that, the phrase “get to work bitch”, was used quite often around Raph.

Donatello:

The purple scientist is very straightforward with his taste in music. If he likes it, he listens to it. He often has music playing while doing stuff in his lab. Sometimes calming lofi music in hopes that it could get him sleepy, but that usually didn’t work very often. Instead Donnie would often find himself listening to music from the indie scene, or what some people on the internet might call vibey music. Aesthetic music. What aesthetic, you might ask? Well, Donnie had no idea, and he most differently thought that the internet had no idea either. One of these so-called vibe or aesthetic pop songs was “HEAVEN AND BACK” by Chase Atlantic. Tapping away on his computer or connecting whatever hard drive, he found that the music helped him concentrate at the task in front of him.

Though Donnie didn’t seem to notice, his brothers did. Most of the songs he listened to had some not so happy lyrics. Often quite depressive, covered over with bass, keyboard, drum kit and sometimes even a saxophone. At one point Leo had brought this concern up with Donnie, causing the purple turtle shrug.

“Music is music. I listen to what I like”, he said, making another cup of coffee, before going back to work in his lab.

Those few times Donnie finally left his lab to relax in his room, he would read a book, listen to songs like “Quite Quitting” by NOT A TOY. To Donnie, music was mainly background noise, helping him to shut out his loud brothers so he could focus. What the lyrics said didn’t bother him too much. But there is one thing Donnie notices in most of the music he listens to; a smooth bass. It didn’t have to be a loud bass, often becoming part of the background with the drums, being overshadowed by smooth special effects or the singing. Donnie really like bass, but he also like smooth keyboards. There had been times where he had thought of getting a bass or keyboard, or maybe even make them himself. Mikey had his drum set, so Donnie might as well get a few instruments of his own.

Like Leo, Donnie liked to listen to music on the rooftops every once in a while. But unlike his brother, Donnie would usually stay at the same roof, remembering the names of stars, plants and constellations on the sky above him, while listening to songs like “ALIENS” by The Griswolds and Transviolet, wearing big soft headphones. Comfort over looks was important for Donnie, and being a mutant turtle hiding from the people of New York City, he didn’t give a crap about what his headphones look like. He thought they were nice, and he likes to wear them, and that was enough for him. His brothers, on the other hand, thought they were chunky and strange, to which he could only say it was good they were his headphones and not theirs. And it was at nights like those, that Donnie thought of how, maybe his brothers were right about his taste in music. He might be a little different from them, like how the alien was described in the song he was listening to. Not that he worried too much about it. He liked his head and the brain inside it, and with that came being different. That’s just how it was.

But not all the music Donnie listens to is filled with sadness and depression. Songs such as “Strange Clouds” by ufo ufo were a good morning song according to Donnie. When he woke up after finally having had a full night's sleep, he would listen to songs like that, while making breakfast or making his coffee. But then later in the day, sitting in front of the computer screen, once again not being able to sleep, he would listen to stuff like ���Numb” by 8 graves. It was the lyrics from that song that had made Leo’s alarm bells ring. Mikey on the other hand wasn’t too worried. He just called Donnie’s music taste “calm edge lord, that doesn’t need to try hard”.

Now, if there was one artist Donatello had to say was his favorite, it would probably be Mystery Skulls, especially “Stronger”. A nice bass in front and center, backed up with synth all around. But Donnie also really liked Luke Black. Way different from all the other music Donnie would listen to, yet he really liked it. He would probably never admit it to his brothers, but he did listen to the lyrics of Luke Black, and he did find it more than a little interesting.

Michelangelo:

Mikey - or as he like to call himself; DJ Mikey - listens to music all the time, every day, everywhere, rarely turning down for the sake of any of his brothers, blasting it oh so loud on his orange speaker, only putting headphones on if his brothers threatened him. Or if Master Splinter asked him to.

He sang along, danced along, sometimes even to the embarrassment of others, like the many times he would scream along to “Turn It Up” by Oliver Tree, Little Big and Tommy Cash.

Mikey likes big, loud and up beat music. Something he can move his body to and be his little happy self. It could be anything from pop to hip hop, maybe even electronic or EDM. It would usually consist of him listening to the same few songs over and over again, until he is getting slightly tired of them, while his brothers are ready to rip their heads off, or maybe dig into their skulls to rip their ears out.

With Mikey being his small ADHD self, it wouldn’t be strange for him to listen to music made by people with ADHD for people with ADHD, making a big deal out of it. One of those songs being “Irresponsible” by Emei. There was this one time he almost made Donnie deaf by blasting the song into his ears while scream: "This song is made for me!"

Much to Leo’s annoyance, Mikey didn’t follow his rule of “no music in the dojo”, since Mikey often found it easier to train with music. This man can do all of his katas perfectly, if only “Hypnodancer” by Little Big is playing in the background.

If there is one thing Mikey likes, it is listening to “Pac-man” by Gorillaz, and making eating pizza into his own version of pac man, in which his brothers are the ghosts, and he has to steal pizza from them. At this point, his older brothers know to keep a good eye on their food as soon as that song starts playing... Or if he just plays Gorillaz at all.

Another thing Mikey likes when it comes to music, is when his brothers somehow enjoy what he’s playing. It had happened before, and it would most likely happen again. Mikey sat in the middle of the lair, happily dancing where he sat while reading comics, playing “Go Bananas” by Little Big. Raph didn’t growl at him from his bench press, but instead started to lift the weights on every other beat. Donnie sat at his computer, pressing the keys of his keyboard in beat with the song, probably without noticing. And Leo was bobbing his head ever so slightly while sharpening his katanas. This had Mikey over the moon, which only caused him to want to play more music for his brothers. Every once in a while they would let him do it, just to make their little brother happy. That was the main reason why Mikey is the aux guy.

When Mikey decided to skateboard, he would most often do it with old school hip hop playing. As a turtle in the sewers of New York, that only made sense to him, which is why he often would skate up and down the sewers, vibing with “The Message” by Grandmaster Flash & The Furious Five. And of course Mikey could rap the whole thing. Now, this was one of those few songs that Leo, Raph and Donnie didn’t mind Mikey playing over and over again.

But then there were those times on patrol where Mikey just would start singing out of nowhere. When he started breaking into “Sax” by Fleur East, complete with thought out dance moves in the way only Mikey could do it, Raph was ready to throw him off the roof and down to ongoing traffic.

It would be no surprise to tell you that one of Mikey’s favorite artists is Little Big, and that he also loves Gorillaz. But he would also quite often listen to the music that his brothers were playing. He very well knew that Leo loved listening to Blur, and that most of Raph’s playlist was made up of power women, and that Donnie’s secret favorite was Luke Black. And of course Mikey could sing every single word to the songs of his brothers' favorite artists, being the little attentive brother that he is. And because his music taste had room for more than theirs had.

—----------------------------------------------------------

You can tell I’m European, can’t you?

[reysdriver]

Rockstar!Sirius

headcanons of Sirius as a rockstar/musician — rockstar!sirius x fem!reader

warnings: some sexual headcanons so minors dni cus it's not for you

words: 0.4k

a/n: I will be writing more of this AU, I just realized I hadn't done anything for rockstar!sirius so I had to do some quick hcs

- The band is The Marauders of course (I've said this for every rockstar headcanon list so far lol)

- Sirius is 100% the lead singer; he loves being the center of attention and this is the best way for him to get that

- He does play some instruments like guitar or keyboards if the band needs, but his main role is vocals

- Glam rock aesthetic, like he LOVES the makeup, the jewelry, the flashy outfits, everything 

- I could see him in a classic rock 'n' roll look, but for the band's peak, he's wearing those platform boots and glittery clothes

- Remus writes most of the songs for the band, but Sirius writes some too

- And most (if not all) of the songs he writes are about you, and I'd say about half of them are sexual

- Insists that you're his 'muse', says he can't be a star without you there

- So he'll bring you on all the band's tours, and dedicates every concert to you because 'without you, I'd be nothing'

- You'll even have your own little something in the band's contracts (like your favourite candy in the dressing rooms or just anything like that) because Sirius insists you be treated like part of the band

- And speaking of 'part of the band', he takes you on shopping sprees to buy matching outfits with him so that the entire world knows who you are because he just wants to show you off in the best clothes his rockstar money can buy

- Wants you to star in the band's music videos and be on their album art

- The entire fanbase knows about you (how could they not? do you really expect Sirius to keep you a secret) and they love you 

- He will talk about you in every interview he does

- I picture him super tattooed (like he was after azkaban but like in a good way)

- Honestly just rockstar!sirius is Damiano David like literally same exact person

- If it's modern, he'll post pictures on social media like Jennifer Lopez using Ben Affleck's cropped nudes for a father's day pic

- Or like post-sex selfies like his smug face after eating you out that you equally find so embarrassing and flattering 

- And when you tell him (only partially seriously) to keep those pictures private, he just teases and says 'how else will the world know how much I love you if I don't show them?'

[l1ve-l4ugh-lov3craft]

Italian headcanoned Barty sounds like Damiano David i don’t make the rules

[steddielicious-quaerhye]

Stupid little headcanons I wanted to share

These may or may not have been influenced by the thousands of fics I’ve read and since incorporated into my standard headcanon. 

Lucas and Dustin have clocked Byler since they were ten. In their attempts to be the Best Allies Ever, their secret first kisses are with each other, where it’s clearly established that neither of them like boys. 

Robin and Steve shower together and help exfoliate/moisturize each other’s backs. 

Wayne is gay. 

Joyce is bi, which Hopper knows and supports. 

Max and Lucas fight over who gets to be the little spoon. 

Mike feels such immense guilt about his feelings for Will (his ex’s brother), that he comes across as homophobic, in that he’s Very Uncomfortable whenever the topic of queerness comes up. 

Nancy and Jonathan eventually get to a comfort level in their relationship that they realize they love when she pegs him. 

Will, El, and Max have their own little trio (once the Hopper-Byers tribe moves back to Hawkins). Max and El are fully aware that Will is in love with Mike and question him on his taste, but are the staunchest Allies. 

Steve and Tommy were each other's first kisses, but lie and tell everyone that Carol was for both of them.

Will, El, and Max also have been stealing weed from Jonathan and Argyle since they found out that it quiets the Upside Downies (aka anxiety, depression, memories of possession, etc.)

Lucas, Mike, and Dustin are firmly in the camp of freshman/sophomores who try their hardest to drink beer because it’s cool, but hate the flavour. (Lucas secretly likes the flavour of beer; he just doesn’t like being drunk.)

Chrissy survives and is very gay and repressed, in dire need of Robin to come expand her mind. 

Billy was some sort of queer and did not take it well. Neither did Neil, when he found out, and that’s the real reason they left California. 

Steve is an excellent baker. 

Eddie is secretly a massive hockey fan and a decent skater, but hides it from the Party since he doesn’t want to be a hypocrite about pucks and sideways laundry baskets. 

Erica has a crush on Dustin and will never admit it. 

The Neverending Story theme song always makes Hopper choke up. When he was in Russia, he’d hum it to himself in memory of everyone working together, so he’s got heavy emotional ties to it. 

Under his clothes, Eddie’s body is a sleeker version of (the very modern) Damiano David, especially because of the mix of gorgeous and shit and meme tattoos. 

Steve becomes a firefighter and eventual fire chief of Hawkins, while Eddie opens his own tattoo shop that has a secret queer lit backroom library. 

[marlena-immortale]

I wanna know who in må has a daddy kink. My guess is Ethan lovesss being called daddy

Okay I'm answering this as how would they each react to being called Daddy or calling you Daddy bc that's what this made me think of.

I think Ethan would be a little surprised at first if you called him Daddy in the bedroom, but would instantly love it and tell you to say it again until you're screaming it while he bounces you on his cock. And then he would tease you about it afterward to see you blush. But once you see the effect it has on him you use it to your advantage to turn him on, maybe even in public so he has to suffer, of course only to punish you later for teasing him.

With Damiano, I feel like he'd be the type to love to joke around in bed and maybe you call him Daddy as a joke and he just freezes because omg that was actually really hot. And then you call him that whenever you want him to be extra rough that night. But of course I have to include my fav subby Dami in here too because he would absolutely love to tease a dominant partner by calling you Daddy in his best whiny submissive voice just to turn you on and to hear you coo at how adorable he is and call him your baby boy.

Vic would be the first to bring it up for sure, requesting that you call her Daddy. And maybe it feels a little unnatural at first but once you see how much it turns her on you never want to stop calling her that. And she leans into it so hard, telling you how "Daddy's gonna take care of you and make you cum so hard" and getting off on your reactions.

I looove the idea of Thomas being the one to accidentally call you Daddy when he's all blissed out in subspace and probably doesn't even know what he's saying. And you handle it so well, just letting him ramble on and telling him he's such a good boy for you and he can let go for Daddy. And then afterwards when he's more coherent, you tell him what he said and he's just blushing and stuttering and saying he didn't think he actually said that out loud. He's obviously adorable and you can't help smiling at his slight panic but you also want him to feel comfortable embracing what he's into and encourage him to say it again.

[theprisonerandthebeast]

Specific asfk James and Sirius headcanons (some NSFW)

James:

- lactose intolerant

- goes for jogs at 5am

- angry crier

- tried a raw egg in his beer once but actually enjoyed it and now continually does it

- loves titties so much. titty fucking & sucking & just constantly touching and laying on them

- #1 Quidditch fan. if they had Quidditch on TV he would shout in excitement and stand directly in front of the TV the whole time

- James has a scar on his arm because Pads scratched him while they got overly excited playing.

Sirius:

- loves all food. he will eat anything. even if it's not eatable. he ate a cockroach once because Remus dared him too. he's eaten play-doh too many times to count.

- Damiano David vibes

- he has his nips pierced

- i imagine him super into body mods and tattoos and stuff

- heavy sleeper

- ultra feminist

- owns a shirt that says "BROKE BOYS DONT DESERVE NO PUSSY"

- loves buying people things

- Sirius 6 shots in: "Remus, pick a country,,,, i'll buy it for u"

- steals Lilly's earrings & skirts & purses & makeup & dresses &

- happy trail

- aftercare then cig then food then sleep

- Eats his steak as rare as possible without making him sick

- "Yeah, can you just wave the meat over the stovetop? thanks" -Sirius, ordering his steak at a restaurant

[filthforfriends]

The Hybrid (Part 4)

Damiano x Thomas Omegaverse

Word Count: 6.9k

CW: mentions of abuse and also god might smite you for reading

They snuck out of Damiano’s building the back way, leaving a note on the table in case the security force came to check on him. The less the government could track their whereabouts, the better. 

The Raggi’s lived in a small apartment in a giant complex. Damiano had always wondered why they didn’t pick a better location. With Thomas’ job, he could definitely afford to move his mom somewhere cozier. Dami then realized that it's a lot easier to blend in, to be inconspicuous, when you look and live the exact same as hundreds of units. Even if the security force did arrive, it would take several precious minutes to find the address.

“Head down, hair in front of your face,” Thomas murmured. 

“What about sun glasses or a hat?”

“No, it’ll look like we’re trying to hide. That's more likely to get us in trouble than some bruising.” Getting out of his nice, warm, comfortable nest had been terrible. The apartment smelled foul and everything reminded him of Samuel: the mediocre, the bad, and the ugly. Thomas made them both shower all the pheromones off, change clothes, and laundered the dirty ones. Dami didn’t realize how comforting the scenting had been until it was gone. Everything felt too raw and sharp. 

They didn’t even touch after showering to reduce the production of pheromones. Damiano wanted to cling to Thomas, but wasn’t allowed a hug and it was brutal. In the car Tom drove with all the windows down. Even though he wasn’t chilly, Damiano started shivering and couldn’t stop.

“Are you cold?” He shook his head no and Thomas refocused his attention on driving, jaw set. He’d coached Damiano not to display any affection, not even signs of a close friendship. Dami knew that this was for his mate’s protection and would therefore follow instructions exactly. Nevertheless, Tom’s embrace in his nest had been the only thing that made one of the worst days of his life bearable. This stoicism made him feel so isolated that Damiano wanted to cry from loneliness and his breath caught in his throat.

“Take a deep breath. Remember that I love you.” The omega clenched his teeth and focused on not gasping for air. Damiano willed himself to keep it together a while longer until they were safe.

“I love you too.” Out of instinct, he reached towards Thomas after getting out of the car. They were always connected in some way: an arm around someone’s shoulders, waist, or hips. A hand on the back or musing someone’s hair. Holding each other in some way, playing with the others outerwear, usually in an effort to bring them closer. No, they hadn’t been inconspicuous enough.

Damiano followed dutifully behind Thomas, not completely confident in his ability to remember the location of the apartment. When they reached the door, he didn’t knock, just stood close to the keyhole. After a moment, his mother opened the door and shooed them inside. The place smelled of food, but Dami wasn’t sure what. He was just getting his bearings when Thomas crushed him in a hug. Showering him with compliments while moving the hair from his face, he kissed his forehead then lips. 

“You did so well, caro mio. I’m so sorry you had to do that, but you were amazing and perfect. I’ll do my best to keep you from doing something like that again.” Kiss. “And I’m so proud of you.” Kiss. “You were poised and composed and casual. I don’t think anyone noticed you did such a good job caro mio. I love you so much, cucciolo and I’m so lucky…” The ache in his ribs caused Damiano to tune him out. The shivering has stopped, as has the unease from Samuel’s smell, and the fear from being somewhere he could find Damiano. The omnipresent exhaustion from spending hours in fight or flight kicked in and he was slouching, giving Thomas his weight. 

“Woah, I got you cucciolo.” Damiano felt himself being swept off the ground. So close to the blurring light fixture the rays started to give him a pounding headache so he closed his eyes. The next feeling he registered was his shoes being taken off, and found himself on a bed with pink roses embroidered on the sheets.

“How long have I been asleep?” he mumbled, discombobulated.

‘Uh, about 45 seconds,” Thomas chuckled, pulling a shoe off. Thomas' mother blocked the hallway light when she entered the room, and put a hand between his shoulder blades.

“Drink this.” A straw was held up to his mouth, and the liquid thick, like a smoothie or meal replacement, probably with electrolytes.

“Thank you Marcella,” he slurred.

“Sit up for me dear,” she coaxed, that hand on his back pushing him upwards. Damiano sensed Thomas, felt the bed shift, and saw him leaning over. With the help of his mother, he pulled off Damiano’s top layers, and yanked his coat out from under him. He left the room which caused a pang of anxiety.

“Tommy –”

“He’ll be right back, bambino. Drink more.” Dami makes a noise of dissent, but Marcella reminds him of his own mother, so rejecting self care is not an option. She’s known him for too long not to force her maternal instincts upon him. Thomas does walk back into the room, and immediately reaches for the button of Damiano’s jeans, who this time makes a grunt to indicate scandal and chokes on his smoothie. Thomas laughs and actually smiles for the first time today, so it's worth it.  

“Unless you want to sleep in jeans, that is?” He pulls the pants down, and off, carefully replacing them with old pajamas. 

“Cold,” he hears a female voice say, only registering that it's a warning from Marcella when the contusion ointment meets the bruised skin of his ribcage. Damiano hisses in pain, but feels his hand being held by Thomas, who's sitting in the middle of the bed. He thinks that Dami has his eyes closed, that he doesn’t see Thomas turn his back because he can’t bear to watch, and who puts a hand to his mouth to repress the urge to be sick. Marcella’s touch is steady when it moves up to Damiano’s face. She pauses.

“Caro, let's put a shirt on him while he’s still awake.” Tom doesn’t trust his voice, just pulls the ratty long sleeve he brought from his childhood bedroom over Dami’s head, guiding his arms. He takes the glass back to the kitchen as an excuse to leave his mother’s bedroom, but ends up setting it on the counter and running to the bathroom. Thomas turns on the sink hoping that his omega couldn’t hear the retching, couldn’t hear this total crumbling of strength. Would he have been able to do this without his mom’s help? Maybe, maybe not. 

Like a coward, he stays in the bathroom until his mother’s gentle knock on the door. The wobbles on his feet, emotionally exhausted in his own right.

“Is he asleep?” Thomas asks, opening the door.

“Yes. Come eat, let’s talk.” Marcella is barely tall enough to hold her son's face between her hands. Tom stoops over to embrace her. She feels small and delicate, like the skeleton of a bird. This perception of fragility is the thing that finally brings Thomas to his knees, both emotionally and physically. Marcella strokes his hair as he cries, kissing the crown of his head lovingly as he had done to Damiano just minutes ago.

“You did everything right. Getting help, coming here, loving him. I know it's jarring to learn that he’s not invincible, but you’ll adapt.”

“Will I?” he sobs.

I don’t expect you to be superhuman, and neither does that boy who’d follow you to hell and back if you asked. You held back for as long as your biology would let you.”

“And now what?”

“Now we contain this for as long as possible while still letting you live your life.”

“And after that?”

“A discussion for another evening.” It was a relief to confide in his mother as he sat on the living room couch. Every 20 minutes of ranting she would give him something new to eat or drink. Finally, Thomas didn’t feel alone in anything, and the urge to cry abated. 

Marcella stroked her son’s head, who had grown up and was a foot taller than her. His soft, blond hair had been the same since she held him as a baby, when Thomas was new and delicate, and so tiny. She remembered being able to hold the grown man beside her in one arm. When she’d gotten the diagnosis, Marcella laid infant Thomas on her chest and felt the pitter-patter of his little heartbeat against hers. She watched the shadows her son’s long eyelashes cast on his flushed cheeks as he slept, and tried to figure out an ethical thing to do. As the full moon moved outside the window, the shadows on Tom’s face lengthened then shrunk to nonexistence. Marcella decided that she could not fix her baby, because he was not born broken. 

During that endless night, she thought about all the inevitabilities. That one day her child would grow up, and he would love someone so much that his choice to refrain would be taken from him. That would be a joyous day, whether he be a fully fledged omega, or a hybrid. Marcella could never have anticipated how messy things would get on the way there. 

“He’s so beautiful,” she hummed. “He always was, but his energy has changed. He’s more receptive, less prideful.”

“I can’t believe it’s finally happening.”

“The relationship?”

“That…but knowing who I am. He showed me.” She nodded thoughtfully, then seemed to come to a decision.

“Then everything is as it should be.” Her peaceful expression sours after a moment. “Except what the monster did today.”

“I wish I could hurt him, do permanent damage,” Thomas seethed.

“But you were made for better things.” This was a mantra he’s been raised on. When met with the urge for retaliation, violence, or aggression, Marcella would remind her son. This was, ofcourse, because Thomas didn’t have the physicality to take on an actual alpha and could get mortally wounded.

“The frustration and inadequacy you’ll feel is rooted in a society that views physical harm and control as desirable conflict resolution tactics.That is not a society whose opinion you should care about. Be good to those you love and let love compel you to do good. Not violence.” Marcella sits back and unclasps her hands. “You should sleep now,” she instructs.

“I don’t know if I can,” he sighs, looking at the kitchen clock. “How is it only 9pm? Christ, okay.” He groans as he stands up and walks to the linens closet. 

“What are you doing?” his mother inquires.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch and you’ll sleep in my bed, right?” 

“No, you should sleep with your mate. I put Damia in my room because you can barely fit on that tiny mattress of yours. I’ll sleep there.” Thomas opened and closed his mouth twice, face feeling hot.

“I, I – but we don’t need to be in the same bed! We’re not gonna do anything.” Marcella raised one eyebrow and looked at him quizzically. She was a matter of fact woman unintimidated by any conversation. 

“If he wakes up in the middle of the night a knot might be the most comforting thing.”

“Mom,” Thomas groans in mortification. They talked about everything, but part of never having a mate or sustained relationship was that there was no reason to talk about this.

“I assume that's a function the two of you have figured out?”

“Oh my god, can we please not talk about this?”

“Thomas Raggi,” using his full name was never a good sign. “There is nothing gross about omegan reproductive biology, just because it’s not your biology,” she scolded. “The reason we’ve made it this long is because I had all the information and could research it.”

“I know that,” he lamented. “Yes, that part works.”

“And what other parts work?” Thomas sighed, looking at the floor when he responded.

“Bonding, scenting, and glands, but it's uncomfortable.”

“Not marking?”

“We haven’t tried. I wasn’t sure I’d be safe and I was right. Victoria recognized my alpha scent from his nest today.”

“Alpha scent? So it’s not the same?”

“No.” Marcella started scribbling down on a notepad. She’d likely spend the whole evening pouring over the stacks of books concerning hybridism that she hid between the walls. It was an ever growing collection of not necessarily banned, but somewhat incriminating literature accessed via a loose board and lots of ingenuity.

“There’s also this thing, where we can comfort each other using pheromones.” Thomas didn’t see his mother surprised often, but the expression flashed across her face before she resumed writing at a frenzied pace. Thomas waited until her pen slowed.

“So what do you think?” He regarded his mother’s advice above all else, sometimes even his own reasoning. 

“I think marking might be the most healing thing for Damiano, and the best for both of you. It's the natural progression. I think he should understand exactly what he’s getting himself into first. Too many people know for this to stay quiet. Victoria will be trustworthy for a time, but Samuel is going to indict you as much as possible. It's almost inevitable that you’ll be detained, even if you’re just accused of having a romantic and sexual relationship with another omega. With your history, they’ll ask questions and your mate could be implicated too.” Just the thought of Damiano being put in harm's way has Tom choking on his panic.

“I’m gonna check on him.” Thomas opens the door slowly, a slant of light illuminating Dami’s form under the pink comforter. His back is turned, so Tom tip-toes in to get a look at his face. Damiano’s expression is peaceful, such a stark contrast to the bruising that marks his face. His body has automatically favored the uninjured side in his sleeping position. It’s immediately too much for Thomas and the nausea comes back. He quickly leaves the room, propping his forearms against the kitchen counter as he collects himself.

“He’s still asleep,” Thomas announces as he walks back into the living room. “I think I’m gonna sleep out here so I don’t disturb him.”

“Thomas –”

“Mom, I can’t even look at his face,” he divulges. “I don’t want to exist in a world where bad things happen to Damiano.”

“And like every other alpha, you’ll have to reconcile the fact that terrible things are going to happen to your omega, and you’ll be powerless to stop them.” If not for his slumbering mate, Thomas would seriously consider outright screaming in frustration.

“But how, mom? How!?”

“Center him in everything you do. An alpha’s world revolves around themselves until they find a mate. It's not about you anymore, Thomas. It’s not about your preferences, it’s about what he needs and –” A noise coming from the bedroom causes Marcella to pause, and Thomas rushes down the hall. 

“Uh, what, huh? Tommy?” Damiano is half conscious and disoriented in the dark, unfamiliar space. Their voices must have been too loud and woken him. Thomas closes the door behind himself, deciding that now is as good a time to go to lay down as any. Sleep was going to evade him regardless.

“Right here, cucciolo. You okay?” The bed dips as he sits down and shucks his jeans off quickly.

“Huh? I think, um, I…hey.” Thomas crawls up the mattress, rubbing his hand along Damianos form over the blanket so he’d know his alpha was close. Thomas had barely pushed a leg under the covers when Dami tried to snuggle up to him. That was made difficult by the fact that Thomas hadn’t laid down yet. He was immediately too warm with two bodies under heavy bedding. As his head hit the pillow, he felt almost suffocated, claustrophobic plagued by the nerve wracking fear that he was going to fail his mate.

When Damiano actually laid his head on his alpha’s chest, that emotion dissipated and intense affection took its place. Dami wasn’t satisfied with having just an arm slung over Thomas, and slithered so he was almost completely on top of him, legs tangled together.

“You’re here,” he croaked, as Tom carefully wrapped him up, conscious that his arm didn’t put weight on a tender spot.

“I’m here, cucciolo.”.

“But where am I?” Instead of lifting himself up to converse, Dami’s eyes stayed closed and he burrowed further against Tom’s neck, nuzzling him contentedly. Wherever they were, Thomas was here too, which is another way of saying that Damiano was home.

“We’re at my mom’s apartment and I was going to sleep right here, with you tonight. If that’s okay?”

“Mhm!” Damiano confirmed, enthusiastically nodding his head. There was that sick feeling again. How could anyone not cherish him? Thomas couldn’t reconcile reason with reality.

“This isn’t the couch. Did you get a new bed?” he mumbled, voice sleepy.

“No, we're in my mom's room. She’s sleeping in my bed.”

“I fucking hate that bed,” Dami groaned. “Was too small for both of us. Didn’t have an excuse to cuddle you,” he complained. Thomas was thrilled to know Damiano’s inner thoughts from those early years.

“We tried once, remember? You said you were too uncomfortable to sleep.”

“I meant my dick was too uncomfortable for me to sleep. You were spooning me and I was hard the whole fucking night.” Tom giggles and grins into Damiano’s curls. Despite the day they’d had he can feel Dami’s lips turn into a smile.

“You could’ve gone to the bathroom.”

“Oh, I thought about it. But I couldn’t risk you not holding me when I got back.”

“So you just suffered the whole night?” Thomas laughs incredulously. 

“Was worth it.”

“You could have woken me up. I probably would have helped you deal with it!” his chest rumbles as he speaks.

“You were 15. Plus, if I woke you up every time I got a boner from us being in the same bed, we would never sleep through the night.”

“Then why’d you put yourself through it?” Thomas exclaimed.

“You’ve always smelled so, so fucking good,” he moaned. Each word he rutted against Thomas’ hip a little. 

“Okay, I can’t smell that good!” Thomas was feeling shy, but loved being surrounded by all this affirmation.

“Mm-mm, you don’t get it. You’re not fully hormonal, the scent part is so fucking strong.” Damiano clutched Thomas’ thigh between his own so he could rub against it as the memories flooded his mind. “I got a little obsessed with it. I thought you were just the cool, kinda introverted kid that was a wicked good guitar player and fun to be around. And then I started to smell you. Wasn’t sure that I liked it at first, but that evolved into me huffing your dirty gym clothes when to one was around like a fucking pervert.” 

“So you figured out you liked it?” Thomas chuckled, feigning his casual manner. Damiano decides to spare him the teenage fantasies of masturbating in a pile of Tom’s dirty laundry. Also filed under Maybe We Don’t Tell Him Ever is licking Thomas’ dirty boxers when he went to the bathroom and consequently having a toe curling orgasam after thrusting against his mattress exactly four times. Instead of answering Thomas' rather rhetorical question, Damiano surprises him by pushing his sweatshirt up and ducking under the fabric so he can lick Tom’s armpit while scenting him. 

Thomas gasps at the feeling, pulling away because he's ticklish. He feels the same confused arousal as he did when Dami rimmed him during his rut. Dami hangs on, seeking out Thomas’ body when he pulls away, thrusting against his thigh in all their clothes. Tom had been very thorough in instilling in his conscience that they couldn’t have sex tonight. For a moment he forgets why, because Damiano is sober and extremely enthusiastic right now so why not? Oh yes, because if he turned the light on his omega would be covered in bruises from the fist of another alpha.

“I can’t, I can’t,” he rushes out while reaching to switch on the bedside lamp. Damiano pushes Tom’s sweatshirt over his head, who’s subsequently greeted with a glorious view of Dami’s stomach where his shirt rides up: tattooed, tan, muscular, with a smattering of hair and the beginnings of sweat. Christ. The bruising is isolated to one spot, and the swelling in his face has gone way down, so if he’s just self aware when they have sex…no.

“I can’t get hard right now, knowing what happened barely a day ago…” Damiano reaches between their bodies and grabs Thomas’ cock over his briefs. His completely erect dick jumps in response. Dami raises an eyebrow, but after seeing the amount of conflict in Thomas' expression, his face falls. Damiano realizes that he’s probably not going to get a knot, (or what he really wants, to be marked) because his mate has such a strict moral code. Thomas sees the genuine, crestfallen disappointment, and combined with a contradictory gut instinct, he reevaluates. 

“I'm making this about me,” he says slowly, checking that the words feel just as true rolling off the tongue. “This is about what you need. I’m afraid that I’m going to cause further harm because I don’t have the awareness of a real alpha.”

“You’re my alpha,” Damiano counters, straddling Tom’s hips, who’s propped up on his elbows.

“I am,” he smirks, looking up at his mate.

“So you’re a real alpha.” Damiano watches where his fingertips touch the skin of Thomas’ chest, circling each freckle. “And I’m not making my choices in a cloud of hormones. I have near complete autonomy with you, so don’t worry about compensating for the pheromonal influence. In fact,” Dami leans over to kiss a line down Thomas’ chest. “I’ve never been so clear-headed with anyone.”

“Is that your long-winded,” Dami draws a circle around Tom’s bellybutton with his tongue who lets out a sigh. “Extremely sexy way of saying that this isn’t going to make things worse?” He runs a hand through his omega’s greasy hair, only noticing its silky texture. Dami catches his hand and sucks on what should have developed into a scent gland, but didn’t due to Thomas’ hybridism. He expects to feel nothing, which is why the bolt of electricity down his arm makes him jump. Dami looks up with a devilish smile, like Thomas’ body is his favorite playground, because it is.

“I think you’d really struggle to harm me accidentally.” There's nerves in Thomas’ wrist that he’s never felt before, awakened by Dami’s insistent tongue. It’s uncomfortable, but also so exciting. His internal glands had matured completely, which made sense since they’re the first to be developed in the womb. Next came the neck glands which were underdeveloped, but not so severely that people noticed if he kept his hair long. However, the glands on his wrists just looked like a scar, which is exactly what Thomas said they were. As a child he had a tragic, rare infection that resulted in them being removed. The government was so desperate to keep any variation a secret, that they came up with the story for him and stuck it in his official medical history.

“Can we stop experimenting now? Do something we know works?” Thomas whined, wrinkling his nose from enduring the discomfort. 

“Of course, principe,” Dami gives the area a final lick. 

“Why are you so far away, come ‘ere,” he coaxes, affectionately. Damiano crawls upwards and Thomas greets him with the softest kiss he’s ever received. It's not a peck, or a brush of lips, just so, so careful. Tom opens his mouth while tilting his head to deepen the kiss, letting Dami press his tongue into his alpha’s mouth.

“Take off your clothes, cucciolo,” he coos. Damiano swings a leg back over so he can peel back his pants and boxers, doing the same to Thomas, who’d usually be the aggressor, but is waiting patiently for Damiano to straddle him once again. Tom notes that he elects to keep his shirt on, pulling it down to cover his abdomen. 

When they resume kissing, Thomas lays back and gently guides Damiano with him. Seeking more contact, Dami flattens his body horizontally, against his mate. Having a layer of fabric between them felt very strange. Thomas’ mouth stays soft and relaxed, minimizing his movement, but making sure every breath was heavy with passion. Now that his hands were free, he gripped Dami’s thighs, where he knew there was no injury. Even after this hellish day, he was starting to slick up for Thomas, who slid his hand over to massage his omega’s rim. His other hand slid under the shirt on Dami’s uninjured side, warm and steady. 

Damiano resumed rutting against Thomas, the stimulation much more intense now that there was no fabric between them. However, every time the hem of his shirt brushed the tip of his cock. To make the process more comfortable Thomas inserted one finger into his omega, putting some pressure on an internal gland. Immediately he was rewarded with a rush of slick and a groan of sensitivity. He applied the natural lubrication from his pubic hair to chest, giving Damiano a surface to thrust against. 

That hand under his shirt, stroked everywhere Thomas was sure was safe. He knew how important skin to skin was for Damiano, for both of them. Meanwhile, he worked a second finger inside, helping Dami get some force behind his thrusts to make them more pleasurable. 

“I want, I want –” he started, likely trying to articulate that while this was great, on his alpha’s stomach was not how he wanted to cum. 

“You can cum inside me,” Thomas offered. The view of Dami’s cock glidingly against his body transcended all higher self. He was aroused to the point of slick. Only after he spoke the words did it occur to Tom that this was a way to give Damiano his power back. Was it his sexual desires or his omega’s best interests that motivated him? Or were those two things already becoming one?

Dami froze for a second, his brain struggling to understand the proposal. Receiving a knot and doing the fucking never happened in the same session, or even the same day (with the exception of a very late evening trist with Thomas.) Damiano’s mouth had stilled and he opened his eyes before Thomas, whose face was relaxed. His lips were parted and brows unfurrowed. He was soft and willing to receive. Dami’s mouth finally caught up with his train of thought.

“Yes. Yeah – yes, um.” He walked his hands back, sitting on Tom’s thighs while he strategized how to rearrange their limbs.

“Is this how you want me?” Thomas asked, and it was like every time they’d hooked up. This was a beloved, familiar, pleasurable rhythm they’d perfected over the years. He parted Thomas’ thighs and knelt between them, rubbing his quads affectionately as he assessed the situation. Thomas had barely started producing slick and there was nothing to prop his hips up with. His bollocks were heavy and tight against his body, skin flushed. Dami decided to prep him in a more accessible position.

“On your stomach,” he directed. Thomas flipped over, laying flat. Dami knelt between his parted thighs. It was unorthodox for an omega to pleasure their alpha in such a subordinate, vulnerable manner. Dami pressed his hand between Tom’s glutes, teasing his hole more than anything else. He tried to get Thomas to relax by kneading the muscle. He gave his cute little butt a playful slap prompting Thomas to giggle into the pillow, which turned into a moan as a finger was pressed inside him, elasticity tested. The more aroused he became the stronger the scent of slick. Soon the room would reek of lovemaking.

Damiano wasn’t drunk on it like he’d been before, but that could have to do with his own lack of hormones. Still, Thomas was always delicious and the urge to taste, to know if something had changed, was strong. He sat back on his heels and reached both hands under Thomas’ hip bones. He pulls Tom’s ass up to meet his face, using his thumbs to part his glutes.

He licked a solid stripe across his entrance to start, then pressed his tongue inside. Thomas squealed and keened, hands gripping the mattress. Normally alpha’s had external glands, not internal. So, while the prostate could still be stimulated, many male alphas outright refused to bottom and went untouched internally. Damiano always thought this was a waste. He loved eating his partners out, regardless of anatomy. They had to let their guard down, which established intimacy, plus the stimulation was excellent whether vaginal or anal.

Of course, actually being able to taste them was on its own level entirely. Thomas had always taken a little more work, most similar to a female beta. Damiano never minded spending extra time in bed with Tom, or with the flavor of his slick. It soothed the intense compulsion he had for physical intimacy with Thomas, who had always been a delicacy, his absolute favorite. As a teenager he’d eat him out until Thomas had to ask him to stop, exhausted. The way Damiano would moan between his legs made every orgasam feel like a rush. As a pent up 16-18 year old, he’d go full throttle until the edges of his consciousness were blurring.

Damian could insert a finger and stimulate his glands directly, but his mate was so sensitive that it wasn’t exactly pleasurable. So it was a game of patience, spending time with Tom’s body. Coaxing him to relax had never been so difficult. He was stuck in the dialectic of pulling away from sensitivity, and pushing back against Dami’s face in pleasure. His breath kept catching in his throat as he let out little gasps and whines, which almost turned into pleas: the sounds of a submissive. There was delicious musk that hadn’t been present before, and the erotisicism of topping his alpha was impeding upon Damiano’s decision making. He started to nip at the round muscle of his buttock. If Thomas would just ask to be marked this torturous self restraint wouldn’t be necessary. 

“I want you to be mine,” he growled, thoughts going unfiltered. 

“I’m yours,” Thomas answered, voice muffled by the pillow. Damiano wanted to beg to go a step further, but knew it wasn’t safe. Demanding such a thing would kill the mood, so he pulls back, clenching his jaw shut. Instead he scents Thomas, on his neck and in his hair. Thomas couldn’t get as wet as he wanted, and that was okay. Damiano could use his own slick as lubricant, and they could talk about this tomorrow. 

“Ride me,” Dami demands, pulling away and laying down on the bed. Thomas turns his head at the sound of Damiano’s voice. His honey golden hair partially covers his face, but he pushes it out of the way with his long, elegant fingers, still on his stomach. Even in the low lighting his irises are visibly green, how down turned eyes making him look perpetually somber unless he was smiling. There’s the hint of a scruff on his face and his plush lips are parted to a pant, a couple stray strands sticking in the corners of his mouth. His feral teeth are almost visible and Damiano is struck by such intense fondness that his love for this man beside him is almost crippling. 

Thomas sits up and gets his legs under him. It’s a good thing too because Dami was suddenly on the edge of something he didn’t feel equipped to cope with right now. He helped guide Thomas as he swung a leg over to straddle his omega’s lap. Despite how evolved he was, Damiano had never had his mate ride his cock. Sure a couple hookups had because he was so beautiful that even an alpha would try anything once, but there was a sacred, untouched level of devotion between Dami and Tom.

He reached underneath him, using his own slick to lube his cock. Thomas sank down slowly, letting his body adjust to the intrusion. His hands tugged on the hem of Damiano’s shirt for something to hold. He was so pretty, sitting on Dami’s cock. No man was pretty like Thomas. He didn’t have much muscle definition, so everything looked delicate and soft. He had chest hair, and a dramatic waist. He had plentiful pubic hair and the most beautiful pink nipples. He had a proud, engorged cock, and shapely lips parted just so. Masculine and androgynous in perfect balance. Watching Tom ride his cock was an exquisite sight, and made Damiano refocus on the goal at hand: to cum inside his alpha. 

Thomas straddled his lip, rhythmically tilting his hips upwards towards Dami, letting out little pants. He didn’t need to be directed, Tom was happy to take initiative, with those somber eyes making sure his omega was enjoying the show. His cock was leaking plenty of pre-cum to compensate. Immediately he felt too far away, and Damiano surged upwards, grabbing wherever he could get a hold to bring Thomas nearer 

He repositioned to be upright, arms wrapped around his mate, holding him so close that it was impractical. There wasn’t room to breathe.

“Damia, can’t –” 

“Need to be close to you.” Thomas whined in arousal and felt his chest flush. Losing verbal ability himself, Thomas scented his omega back, and feel the pressure of knot behind his taint.. For a moment he was dizzy, and lost rhythm, so Damiano’s hands were there to help him ride his cock. 

“Keep going, principe. I’m close.” Thomas let out another long whine, this time forlorn and Dami immediately tried to figure out the source of his displeasure so he could fix it. Looking down at himself, he remembered that he’d kept his shirt on for Tom’s benefit. Of course now, Thomas was trying to get a hold of him and was going about it blind. His sweet baby was stressed that his hands were going to bump a hurt spot.

“You can take it off,” Damiano cooed, happy to be done with all the clothing. As soon as he was bare chested, Thomas finally got into it. Slick leaked onto Damiano’s thighs and Thomas clawed at his shoulder blades to bring him closer. His breathing pattern changed and all the focus in his face dissolved as his eyes fell closed. This whole time he’d just needed a lack of barriers between them. 

Again, that feeling of fondness so intense that Damiano wanted to bite down as hard as he could took over. That urge was indicative of orgasam (among other things), and so he tried to push through and maintain a basic level of self control. Now, they were so close that Thomas’ cock was rubbing against Dami’s stomach and leaking pre-cum everywhere. The scent of their slick was already overwhelming, and now that was compounded with salty spink, sweat, and scenting making the room smell sour and heady. Tom’s head lulled backwards and Damiano started thrusting upward, trying to stay in the lead. He wrapped both arms around Thomas’ ribcage and crushed his mate's body against his own. Damiano used the grip to control the sex, holding Thomas still as he drove into him, who let out a little grunt of pleasure each time.  

Dami looked down at Thomas’ cock, receiving sporadic friction where it rubbed between their abdomin’s. The ridge of his shaft started to swell with a knot, and even the minimal contact in that area was intense enough that Thomas was literally drooling. A trail of spit landed on his pubic thicket, glistening where it combined with pre-cum. Dami’s nose was less than an inch away from the right scent gland on Tom’s neck. Can I finish without marking him? For a moment Dami considered stopping the whole thing. If Thomas came now, it would be hard to get another knot and the weight of exhaustion was felt behind his eyelids with every blink.

“Don’t cum, don’t cum,” Dami begged. “Please don’t cum, please don’t, please don’t.” Tom tensed his entire body to hold orgasam back and the resulting pressure internally caused Damiano to finish. He bit into his hand to spare Thomas, and started crying from the pain. He could taste blood and feel it against his lips. 

The second Damiano could relax his jaw he pushed Thomas off and flipped over onto his side to receive a knot. His normally conscientious mate was less than a minute away from orgasam, and pushed in Dami immediately. With his face out of view, Damiano tried to control his breathing as the knot formed, so the amount of emotional intensity wouldn't devolve into a worrying hysteria. Tom is able to knot him immediately following it up by a couple desperate thrusts. He forces himself not to race towards orgasam, stilling inside for a moment while he rearranges their body’s. One arm goes under Dami’s neck, the other around his waist.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispers into his mate’s hair, feeling a rush of serotonin as they bonded. It’s the inexplicable urge to become part of the other because there is no close enough. He wanted to melt into Damiano, like butter left out to soften too long. Thomas resumes movements, hips stuttering as he tries to slow things down and fails. The splash of hot spunk behind Damiano’s belly button, should ground him and Thomas tries to help by reiterating his earlier words.

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” he chants, rubbing his omega’s chest soothingly as he ejaculates inside him. Of course this does nothing but further trigger Damiano’s emotional response to being unable to mark his mate. By bringing them even closer, bonding has made Damiano more aware of the excruciating distance between them. He makes an ugly, despairing sound that isn’t even immediately recognizable as a sob. 

“Damia? Cucciolo?” Thomas props himself up, looking over Damiano’s shoulder to his face which is streaked with tears. Another sob rips from his mouth and he holds his injured hand up to catch it.

“Woah, what's wrong? What –” he moves to pull out so he can properly evaluate the situation, which prompts his omega to make a desperate screech and grip his thigh so he can’t move.

“No! No!!” His voice is shredded, there's not a hint of self awareness. It's the most intense longing combined with the most potent joy and saiation. Damiano is overflowing with feeling.

“Okay! Okay, I’m sorry! I won’t move, I promise.” He settles against Dami, hooking his top leg over, which gives him something to hold onto. “I’m reaching over to grab the comforter,” Tom narrates, throwing it over them. “What just happened? Did I hurt you?” He forces his tone to stay level. 

“No, you didn’t,” Dami sniffles, trying to stop a cry from ripping forth. “I bit my hand, so I – so I didn’t, um,” sob “mark you.” Sob. “But I really wish I could have,” sob. “I’ve always wanted to and now it’s really, really,” sob, “difficult not to.” Thomas processes the words, kissing Damiano’s cheek a couple times.

“So you’re crying because you’re emotionally overwhelmed, not because something went wrong a moment ago?”

“Sex with you is basically perfect. I never thought I’d cry this much over really amazing sex. I never thought I’d cry this much, period. Ugh!” Dami wipes his face with the back of his uninjured hand. “I’d tell you I’m not usually like this, but…”

“But I already know.”

“Yeah.”

“Because I know you, seeing as we’re officially boyfriends and all that”

“Yeah.” Damiano is smiling now, lacing his fingers through Thomas’. He takes two deep breaths, letting the second out through his mouth.

“Whew! What the fuck,” he mutters, settling. It seems that they’ve just taken the long road to afterglow, because this is a response to sex that Thomas is very familiar with. Dami seems to actually relax back into the bed, and chuckles self consciously. 

“I must be a great boyfriend, randomly giving you two minutes of the most extreme emotional response you’ve ever seen in your life, then just moving on.” He rolls his eyes at himself, which Thomas doesn’t like very much. This emotional dysregulation could be from a dozen perfectly valid things: beginning of a new relationship, terminating a mate, getting a new mate, enduring physical abuse, being reminded of past trauma, having your home made inhospitable, being removed from your nest, the desire to mark, having your mark denied, exhaustion, malnourishment and dehydration. By the time Thomas has listed all these off in his head, Damiano is struggling to keep his eyes open, the knot doing the trick.

“I don’t mind at all,” Thomas whispers, pecking Dami's scent gland experimentally. “Sleep now. Talk Tomorrow. Love you.” Thomas reaches behind himself to turn off the lamp.

“Love you,” his omega repeats.

Notes: Ah! I know its not what you wanted, but I was going through my Masterlist and realized the link for this chapter isn't active because I never fucking posted it!

[awrestlinggirlwholoves80sbands]

Halloween Headcanons 2023: Mutant!Maneskin Au: Damiano David as Pyro

A/N: This is heavly inspired by the X-men saga with some of my original twists, so it will both be very similar but also different from the Marvel version. Click here to check out the other mooboards: Victoria, Ethan, Thomas.

-Born in Rome, his mother leaves him at a young age without any explanation beside a box with written “Open if something bad happens”. His father starts to drink and neglects him. 

- Damiano always feels a sort of fire inside him, something that burns him from the inside and leaves him angry and tired. His only outlet is music, especially rock. 

-He loves to play with a zippo he personalized with the colors of the Rome soccer team. Sometimes he swears that the fire seems to increase if he stares at it too much and every time he tries to touch it, he never seems to burn. 

- “Why do you have a zippo if you don’t smoke” “ Fatte i cazzi tuoi”

- He manages to join a small band as a singer but this gets him the wrong attention from a local bully who thinks Damiano is flirting with his girlfriend.

- “Stay away from my girl or I’ll beat you to death” “You shouldn’t play with fire.”

- The other man’s cigarette sparks so violently that fire starts to wrap his sleeve. Damiano flees away before anyone can catch him.

-He rushes to his room and  under his bed to pick up his mother's box, where he finds a small note “You’re a mutant, just like me. Call this number if you are in danger.”

- He dials the number and packs his things and starts walking through the streets of Rome. Quickly he sees his mother and an old man on a wheelchair who invite him to follow them. It takes a while for him to trust his mom again, he still feels betrayed and abandoned by her even when she explains to him that he had to leave him for his safety. 

- Damiano’s power allows him to control but not to create fire. He always needs an external source of fire but he can shape it, increase and decrease intensity along with being immune to burns and he can sense any usable fire in his psionic vicinity.

- Controlling his power proves to be harder than he thought, sometimes the flames seem too big and other times they seem to ignore him. He spends most of his training in a fireproof room, along with all his other classmates with energy/ fire based powers.

- Hot headed isn’t even enough to describe his personality. He tends to pick up fights especially with the humans, often making his mom threaten to take his privilege to visit the city away from him.

-“Your anger is your biggest strength but also your biggest weakness. If you don't control it, it will control you” His mother often repeats him. “Maybe I wouldn't be so angry if you didn't leave me with dad!”

- Damino starts working in a music shop while his music career is on an hiatus. Quickly the place becomes quite known between mutants, so much that he comes up with a secret code to allow mutants to ask for help.

- “Really? Gasoline by Moonlight?” “What? It will be a great name for my future band!”

- Once his powers are stable enough, he gets to accompany his mother in his first mission : collect a runaway who was kicked out by his parents. He has just to provide a familiar face, a kid like him to trust, however the police get involved and Damiano reacts. 

- His fire meets a hard surface and all the bullets fall to the ground. He and the new kid exchange looks, completely surprised by the other's power : fire and ice that instead of fighting are collaborating. 

- “Ethan, right? This is Damiano, my son, we are here to take you to a safe place” His mom explained. “ I need to go back to take my drumsticks! They are all I have. ” Ethan panicked. 

- “If you follow us, I'll buy you some more at the music store I work at, ci stai?” Ethan nodded and this was the first time Damiano and Ethan met.