#damiano david smut
Text
I want to dance on your body
Pairings: Damiano David xfem!reader
Contents: smut
Summary: You and your bestie hit up a party when you start grooving with Damiano, and the dance floor chemistry carries over to his hotel room. That's where the magic unfolds, and you both go to cloud as he compares you to an angel.
Words: ~2192
A/N: Hi, hello and please, forgive me again if you come across any errors while reading. I recommend you to play Touch Me and just enjoying ✨
You and your best friend are strolling into the party of some badass celeb she knows, she's probably already mentioned the name a million times, but you ain't giving much of a damn, you just wanna hit up a party, grab a few drinks, and bust some moves. Have a blast and enjoy yourself!
As you and your friend make your way through the entrance, you exchange a sly grin while vibrant, trippy lights groove to the beat throughout the crib. Side by side, you advance towards the dance floor, and your friend chimes in:
"Alright, let's have a fucking blast tonight," she says with a grin, and a contagious smile spreads across your face as well.
You were both pumped for this party and ready to let loose and enjoy yourselves to the max.
In a split second, she grabs your hand and pulls you towards the bar, where a bunch of peeps are lining up, ordering their go-to drinks, all geared up to hit the dance floor again. You step up to the bartender and request your ultimate drink, downing it in a single gulp before quickly ordering another shot and doing it all over again.
The drink ignites a fire within you, fueling you with energy and liquid courage to fully embrace the moment, without a care in the world. No worries, just pure enjoyment.
You and your friend head straight to the dance floor, grooving together to the sick beats. But before long, someone swoops in and starts getting their groove on with her, leaving you to your own devices. No biggie though, it doesn't faze you one bit. You keep on dancing as if the music is pumping right through your veins.
Eyes closed, you immerse yourself in the moment, feeling the heat of someone's body swaying alongside yours. Whoever it is, they sense your awareness and since you don't brush them off, they casually rest their hand on your waist, getting even closer in their moves. Your ass is the only thing touching him as you dance with a touch of sensuality right there on the dance floor. The electricity builds up as you grind with this mysterious dancer behind you, sending tingles down your spine.
You both bust some moves together for three consecutive songs, and it's as if you're in perfect harmony. The dance isn't just about showing off or impressing each other; it's about creating something extraordinary between you.
As the beats thump on, you suddenly hear his voice whispering in your ear, "Finally, someone who's up for it."
It tempts you to ask what he means, but you decide against it. You don't want to risk blurting out something silly and ruining the magical vibe of what just went down. So, you simply let the moment linger, cherishing the mystery and excitement that swirls around you.
You sense the hint of a smile against your cheek, and it elicits a light-hearted chuckle from you. It's best to leave it at that and keep relishing in the night's pleasures.
You turn your gaze towards him, even though the lights make it difficult to see his face clearly. Nevertheless, you can tell that he's undeniably attractive (and damn, he can dance like nobody's business).
It's time to get another drink!
As you reach the bar, you order another drink, but this time you savor it slowly, relishing every drop of that boozy sting as it glides down your throat. The flavors dance on your tongue, creating a delightful sensation.
Before you're about to leave the bar, the stranger appears by your side once more, placing an order for two drinks. Now, with a clearer view of his face, you can't help but smile as your gaze locks onto his handsome features.
He returns the smile and pops the question:
"Care for another drink?"
You nod in agreement, and with that, you both exchange proper introductions. Skipping the dance floor this time, you snag two primo seats at the bar, engaging in a conversation that flows as if you've been pals for ages.
Damiano and you have reached a level where you're familiar with the key aspects of each other's lives. It's not something you typically do, spilling your guts to strangers, but under the influence of alcohol and with the enchantment Damiano has cast upon you, it feels natural to engage in heartfelt conversation.
He suggests, "How about finding a more quiet spot?"
The idea resonates with you, and you nod in agreement, intrigued by the prospect of finding a quieter place where you can continue this magical connection.
You flash him a mischievous smile and take hold of his hand, leading him away from the lively dance floor and the bustling bar. As you pass through the living room, your eyes catch sight of numerous unoccupied couches, and you can't resist the temptation. You abruptly halt, tugging on his hand to bring him to a stop, and in a matter of seconds, both of you find yourselves sprawled out on one of the cozy couches.
Damiano's hands be all up in his waist as you're locking lips in a way that has both of you gasping for breath, but you don't give a damn. You feel Damiano's hands on your thighs, giving them a tight squeeze as you continue kissing you, and you let out a moan, trying to catch your breath and satisfy the intense desire he's been arousing in you since you started dancing together.
"Allright?" he asks you.
You nod eagerly, craving his touch on every inch of your body, as his hand traces a path from your thigh to your clit.
"Holy crap," you moan, overcome with pleasure.
He slid your underwear aside, skillfully rubbing your clit at a tantalizingly slow pace. The way he teased you was driving you wild. You rested your head on his shoulder, attempting to conceal your flushed face while muffling your moans as best you could.
"Oh fuck," you whispered, the pleasure intensifying as he increased his pace, making it even more challenging to stifle your cries.
"It's okay, let go. Everyone's too drunk to notice us," he playfully remarked, a smirk playing on his lips.
His words gave you the permission you needed, and you couldn't help but release your moans. They weren't overly loud, but they would definitely catch the attention of anyone who wasn't lost in their own drunken haze.
"Good girl," he murmured into your ear, his words sending shivers down your spine.
The fire inside you burned hotter and hotter, your moans growing louder with each passing moment. All sense of shame vanished, replaced only by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body.
"I'm close!" you moaned, your voice filled with desperate need. And just as you uttered those words, the climax washed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.
"That was... amazing," you whispered, still catching your breath from the intensity of the experience.
He hinted at taking the rendezvous to his hotel for more privacy, and you could sense the anticipation building. He stood up, extending his hand towards you, and you eagerly took it, rising to your feet. Adjusting your dress, you both made your way out of the bustling party.
Upon arriving at his hotel room, he opened the door slowly, pulling you inside. As you stepped into the room, your eyes took in the sight of scattered papers on the king-size bed. Being a singer in a band, it was no surprise that he had been busy writing songs, the creative process evident in the disarray around you.
"Will you write a song about tonight?" you asked, a hint of anticipation in your voice. As the door closed and clicked, Damiano wasted no time. He swiftly unbuttoned his white shirt, discarding it onto the dresser.
"Probably," he replied, his gaze fixed on you as he moved closer. With a deft hand, he skillfully removed your dress, casting it aside without a second thought. Now, standing before him in nothing but your underwear, you felt a surge of confidence.
His eyes tracing over your body, and he couldn't help but confess:
"You look... amazing." His voice dripped with admiration and desire, fueling the intensity of the moment.
He placed his hands firmly on your hips, just as he had done earlier, and leaned in, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. You reciprocated, savoring the taste of his lips, and instinctively placed your hands on his face, deepening the connection between you.
Feeling the intensity between you both, he reached down and firmly gripped one of your legs, lifting it up and resting it on his hip. The sensation heightened, and you could feel him more intimately. With a surge of desire, he broke the kiss, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of lust and admiration and in a bold move, he swiftly switched his hold to your other thigh, lifting you effortlessly and pressing you against the wall. The rush of being carried and pinned against the solid surface added an exhilarating edge to the moment, intensifying the passion and desire that consumed you both.
You locked eyes with each other, the intensity building with each passing moment, until he couldn't resist any longer and leaned in to capture your lips in another passionate kiss. The room seemed to ignite with fervor as the kiss deepened, fueled by an overwhelming desire.
Both of you were breathless, your bodies craving more. With a sense of urgency, Damiano swept you off your feet and carried you to the edge of the bed, gently placing you there. He swiftly cleared the clutter of papers that had occupied the bed, letting them cascade to the floor, clearing the space for your intimate encounter.
As he turned his attention back to you, his eyes filled with admiration and desire. He leaned in closer, his voice a soft whisper against your skin:
"You're so beautiful, you look like an angel." His hand caressed your face tenderly, tracing the contours with gentle affection.
You smirked mischievously, pulling him closer to you, your desire evident in your eyes.
"I could say the same for you, but how about we go to heaven together?" You whispered seductively, your lips grazing his neck on her before playfully biting down.
In an instant, it seemed like something ignited within Damiano. He firmly gripped your neck, exerting a delicious control, and guided you down onto the bed. His lips trailed along your neck, seeking out your sweet spot, and when he found it, he indulged in it wildly. Leaving a trail of hickeys and bites in his wake for him, he marked you as his own for him. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping it tightly as you let out soft moans of pleasure.
The intensity grew as Damiano skillfully removed your panties, unveiling your desires. The air crackled with anticipation as your bodies yearned for the connection that awaited them.
"Are you wet for me, huh?" He sensually bites his lip while locking eyes with you.
He moans in delight as he gently inserts his cock into your pussy, igniting waves of pleasure.
Bestowing upon you the most sublime ecstasy.
He moves his hips with deliberate grace, thrusting in and out, synchronizing your desires.
"Oh, fuck!" you passionately moan, your voice filled with pure bliss.
Damiano smirks, his confidence growing, and intensifies his rhythm, heightening your desire.
As you lose yourself in the throes of passion, your hand instinctively covers your mouth, but Damiano forcefully removes it, yearning to hear your euphoric symphony.
"No, I wanna hear you when you go to heaven, y/n," he whispers with fervor.
You affirm with a nod, surrendering to the divine pleasure that awaits you.
You moan Damiano's name as he intensifies the rhythm of his thrusts, causing your head to fall back onto his plush pillows.
"Oh, Damiano, I'm so close!"
"Come, y/n, cum to me," he asserts, his voice laced with longing.
You struggle to hold back, determined to hear him plead, but his relentless stimulation of your spot makes it nearly impossible. The pleasure is simply too overwhelming.
"Come, y/n," Damiano groans, his voice filled with urgency.
You tighten your grip around him and succumb to the waves of ecstasy he elicits. As you reach the pinnacle of pleasure with him, he remains motionless, deeply embedded within you, his body collapsing onto yours, a resounding groan of your name escaping his lips.
The intensity of the moment consumes you, as he pours every ounce of himself into you, leaving you both utterly spent and satisfied.
You both were breathless and drenched in perspiration, your legs entwined with his.
"I wanna go to heaven with you again" Damiano whispers, his face inches away from yours.
You smile, gazing into their eyes, and you can see the unmistakable lust and desire reflected in him. You hope that he can also perceive the depth of your yearning and how much you desire the very same thing he does.
#Må#måneskin#damiano david#damiano maneskin#damiano david x reader#damiano david x you#damiano david fic#damiano david smut#maneskin imagine
379 notes
·
View notes
Note
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.
#maneskin smut#maneskin x reader#måneskin smut#måneskin x reader#maneskin headcanons#maneskin headcanon#maneskin hc#måneskin#maneskin#victoria de angelis smut#victoria de angelis x reader#ethan torchio smut#ethan torchio x reader#thomas raggi smut#thomas raggi x reader#damiano david smut#damiano david x reader#asks#blurbs
649 notes
·
View notes
Note
8 PWEASE - female reader is on vacation with Dami and friends and the power goes out which is all fun and games when she is with everyone downstairs but when they all go to their own rooms to sleep she panics and can’t sleep and ends up knocking on on Damiano’s bedroom door with tears running down her face and says that she is afraid of the dark and he invites her in and distracts her from it being dark with some smutty-ness and perhaps a blindfold (“now it doesn’t matter if we can turn the lights on or not because I’m not letting you see anyway”)
Perhaps she turns to Damiano because he had noticed her being anxious about the power being out earlier and asked if she was okay then and she tried to play it cool but now she can’t and she needs him to comfort her and protect her
YOU ARE THE BEST🤘🏼
Thank you so much for the request!! I hope you enjoy it 💕
"I might be afraid of the dark."
Damiano + fluff / smut
The first crack of thunder catches you by surprise. You hadn’t been aware of any thunderstorms in the forecast – and you usually kept track – and yet, when lightning illuminates the room for a split second, there is no doubt about one being much too close to the house for your liking. The laughter of the group around you briefly makes room for “oooh”s and “aaah”s but that remains the extent of their reaction.
You’re a little more unsettled. You hide it quite well, you think, until you catch Damiano’s eye. His face displays worry, a question, but even when you smile at him and he smiles back but you can tell he’s not convinced. You’re glad he’s not saying anything, as another round of drinks is passed around and someone starts a game of beer pong. A rowdy night in with your friends. A bit of alcohol, some silly games, catching up, it’s all you need.
Until the lights go out. There’s silence for about half a second before everyone starts talking all at once. You’re barely able to make out anything at all as the fear creeps up in you. Someone lights a candle, several phones are being held up to shine some light, but the unsettling feeling stays in your chest. Someone – you can’t quite make out who – jumps out behind a sofa to scare everyone. It only seems to work on you, but you try to keep your composure. Yet, once again, Damiano’s eyes are on you.
“Guys, come on, it’s no fun in the dark, let’s go to bed, we’ve still got one more night tomorrow, yeah?”
There’s a few mumbles but in the end, everyone agrees. You think you’re quite happy to retire to your room, lucky enough to snatch up one of the single ones before everyone else had arrived. But now you’re in your pyjamas, under the covers in your bed, distant thunder rumbling, and all you can focus on is the fact that it’s dark. Too dark. Not a single tiny light, no other houses or street lamps illuminating the outside, not even a little red dot on one of the various electronics in the room. Nothing.
You try, you really do. But the darkness seems too obvious, even when you close your eyes, and you can’t stop thinking about it. So, with soft footsteps and your phone in your hand to shine the way, you leave your room. It’s Damiano’s door you find yourself knocking on. He opens up much quicker than expected.
“I might be afraid of the dark,” you confess immediately. For a moment, you’re almost glad you can’t really see him or anything else, you don’t want to know which facial expression accompanies your statement. You’re embarrassed enough as it is.
You flinch at his touch. You hadn’t seen it coming, both because of the darkness and because you’d averted your gaze. But as soon as you realise what is happening, you move into him and against him, letting him engulf you in his arms and pull you into his room, door falling shut behind you. He manouvers you into the bed and only when the moonlight coming from his window hits your face does he see the tears spilling from you eyes. He wipes them away with care before pulling you into his chest.
You can barely see his face, the light from the distant moon hitting him just enough to know that he’s looking back at you. Neither breaks the eye contact. You’re so focused on trying to make out the nuances of his iris that you’re only fleetingly aware of his hand moving upwards, tracing along your side, and you almost want to dare him to brush against your chest. Your own hand is on his face, thumb stroking along his cheek, and it’s you who makes the move.
The atmosphere in the room changes in an instant. There’s a connection between the two of you that doesn’t need words as your mouths meet. With his arm tightly wrapped around you, as if frantically afraid of letting go, he gives you the utmost feeling of safety. And when his tongue touches yours, he’s giving you quite a different feeling altogether on top of it too.
You don’t notice you’ve closed your eyes, getting lost in the sensation of his hands and his mouth on you, until you open them again just to be reminded that it’s dark, worryingly dark, so dark you can barely make out Damiano at all, as a cloud pushes in front of the moon and robs you off your last bit of light.
Damiano notices you struggling immediately. He only hesitates for a moment, then his shirt is off his body, but instead of expectig you to react to the new show of skin, he pulls you into a sitting position and wraps the fabric around your head.
“There. Now it doesn’t matter if the lights are out or not because I’m not letting you see anyway.”
The terror you felt only moments before almost immediately transforms into heightened anticipation. Everything happens all at once, so quickly you can barely wrap your head around it, and at the same time, every second lingers, letting you fall deeper and deeper into everything that is being done to you. You let him take the lead, let him undress you, kiss you, touch you, mouth on your breasts, hands spreading your thighs. You’re a mess of sighs and moans, and every single time your head threatens to remind you of your fears, he instinctively surprises you, a flick against your nipple, his tongue on your clit, a movement a little rougher than expected. When he’s on top of you, between your legs, and asks for your consent, you can’t do anything but shout out an enthusiastic yes that you’re sure travels through the house more than intended.
Damiano pushes into you carefully, slowly, but as soon as he realises you’re comfortable and on the verge of begging for more, he increases his speed. Your hands are clawing at him, nails digging into his back, and it feels like all of your senses are impossibly heightened by a lack of vision. And, somehow, it makes everything better. His body on yours and his breathing, intermittently interrupted by deep groans, cause you to come undone much sooner than expected. Your legs wrap around his waist as you moan loudly through your orgasm, clenching around him tightly, and he follows before you’ve fully come down.
You barely register him moving off you, softly cleaning you off, removing the blindfold, but your eyes stay closed as your breathing still rattles in your chest. When you finally open your eyelids again, you immediately notice. The light coming from the house next door. The little red dot on the tv screen on the wall. The low hum of electricity. You turn to Damiano, his face relaxed and smug.
“How long has the light been on again?”
“Since about two minutes after I blindfolded you,” he grins, quickly pressing a reassuring kiss to your lips. “But isn’t it much more fun to stay in the dark sometimes?”
#damiano david fic#damiano david imagine#damiano david x you#damiano david x reader#damiano david fluff#damiano david smut#my writing#writing#blurbs#prompt blurb#prompt blurbs#damiano david blurb
460 notes
·
View notes
Text
i need help.
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter 21: Brave Enough
Authors Note
Word count: 7.9k
Read the rest here!
After an emotionally taxing conversation with his psychologist, Damiano decided to also stop smoking weed/otherwise consuming cannabis. It’d been too triggering, a reminder of all the reasons he loved coke and opioids. Admitting he wasn’t ready for parties or group gatherings was even more difficult. He loved his friends, his family, and going to Vic’s DJ gigs. He loved playing pool at bars or dancing to the deafening pulse of techno music in a club. These things allowed him to feel the hurried, bright energy of his youth. It was proving hard to differentiate between craving community, craving mania, and craving situations because he associated them with drug use.
He also made a habit of exercising in the mornings, before treatment. The earlier he took his lithium and ate some protein, the better he tended to feel throughout the day. Routine made cravings easier to resist when he woke up with them and endorphins lessened the severity of his depressive moods.
“I’m so fucking proud of you.” That's what you told Damiano when he debriefed you the next evening, a chip to mark 24 hours sober clutched in his fist. He’d disclosed his relapse in group and sobbed, despite hardy efforts not to shed a tear. You make dinner and stroke his hair when Dami lays his head on your lap. He’s cynical, not receptive to positive affirmation. Unfortunately, this mood has become more common as the years pass. So you focus on gestures: nicely making his bed, meal prepping his breakfast, cleaning the litter box even though it was his turn.
Surprisingly, Damiano requests you read aloud some favorite passages from the books you’ve finished since the breakup. You’d always thought of that as an activity for your sake. Of course he doesn’t actually use the word “breakup.” Dami won’t touch that terminology with a 10 foot pole. He’s grumpy and lovable, snuggled under the pale pink bed sheet as you speak.
Dami returned the favor by waking you up with coffee, which became a tradition on weekdays. He probably got up 10 minutes earlier than necessary to do so. The first morning you thought it was a glorious dream. Instead of the abrasive and occasionally rage-inducing beep of your alarm, a hand you recognized as Damiano’s was rubbing your back. It slides under your t-shirt and gently strokes your spine. You shiver and hum in delight, then scooch closer. Eyes still closed, the bed dips and you sense Dami taking a seat on the edge. The morning light pours in through the curtains – to which you have your back turned – as the scent of espresso reaches your nose. Such sensory perfection must be fantasy.
“It’s time to wake up,” he murmurs.
“Mm mm.” You object and scoot closer, curling around Damiano. He chuckles and massages your scalp with his fingertips.
“Big stretch,” he narrates as Cheeto rouses herself by his feet. You can tell it’s not Princess, since she’d be meowing by the bedroom door as soon as she heard Damiano up and about. Finally, your brain starts to register that this might be reality, since you never dreamed of Cheeto and Dami simultaneously. You open one eye and are accosted by the bright light, confirming that this isn’t a dream.
“Hey,” you croak, squinting up at him. “What time is it?”
“A couple minutes before your alarm. I turned it off.” You readjust, head, shoulders, and arms splayed across Dami’s lap. “I don’t think that counts as getting out of bed.”
“I’d like to contest that.”
“Getting out of bed in general or if laying on my lap counts?”
“Yes,” you sigh, eyes falling closed.
“Mm mm, keep ‘em open,” he requests, affectionately. You whine in protest and pout. More than anything, you want to pull Dami into the bed for cuddles, but it’d make you late for work.
“Fine.” Awkwardly, you flip onto your back to stare up at Damiano. He’s smiling, which is good motivation to keep looking.
“You’re cute when it’s too bright. You squint so hard that you get this little line between your eyebrows.” He runs his finger along your nose, then taps your cupid’s bow. You’d very much like him to keep going, gently stroking your features. He delicately moves the hair from your face and your eyelids grow heavy. Damiano tsks, working a hand between your mid-back and the mattress.
“Sit up. C’mon.” With a sigh, you detangle your legs from the sheet. “C’mon,” he coaxes sweetly. “When you’re ready to stop pouting, there's coffee.” Your feet land on the floor as Damiano helps push you upright. After a couple sips of espresso, your pupils adapt and the brain begins working. Dami remains seated, hand on your back, and you love that he’s content to just share space. Love that things don’t always have to be full of words and amusements for one another.
“Thank you, this is so nice!” You hug Dami with messy enthusiasm, leaning some of your weight against him. Damiano embraces back and kisses your head.
“I’m happy to do it, sweetheart.” His hand resumes stroking your spine, the other moving the hair from blocking your face. “Just stay awake.”
“Okay, okay,” you groan, standing up and stretching. Dami doesn’t move, probably hoping to catch a glimpse of something. You want the physical affection to continue so badly that it hurts in your chest a little. So you give into an urge before thinking about it and sit on Damiano’s lap, throwing your arms around his shoulders.
“Wha – hey there, sweetheart.” Aware of morning breath, you kiss Dami’s neck, hairline, and behind his ears. “Feeling a little touch-starved?” You nod. Slowly, he slides his hands under your shirt. By touch-starved, you hadn’t necessarily meant skin to skin. Damiano sneakily took advantage of an opportunity by reading into it and you certainly weren’t mad about his decision.
Things start innocent enough, his hands rubbing your back, but then they move away from your spine. When stroking around your waist and hips, his fingertips brushed your stomach, pinky dipping underneath the waistband of your pajama shorts. Then those hands slide up, cupping your ribcage. You stop breathing, frozen with anticipation. Would he touch your breast? Would he slide his hand to the front of your chest and caress it in his warm, rough palm? Would he play with your nipples? Rub them with the callous on his thumb? Would he then slide his hand down your front and into your shorts? If he did, you’d raise your hips to give him room. Then you’d trap his hand against your pussy and grind. Did he want to tease you today or make you moan? Or make you cum?
When you check his expression, Dami’s eyes are glued to your heaving chest and erect nipples. Knowing that he’s hard, you throw a leg over and straddle him. Then you scoot in as close as possible to rest your weight against his erection, stimulating both of you. Damiano’s eyes flutter and his hands escalate from stroking to grasping. You wait for him to make the nest move, but he doesn’t.
“If you could do anything –”
“If I could do anything you’d be underneath me and too wracked with pleasure to say anything but my name and the word please. If I could do anything the neighbors would be filing a noise complaint and you’d be on probation at work for repeated tardiness. If I could do anything we’d have already gone through a bottle of lube and half a dozen sex toys. Our clothes would be on the doormat, panties included because last night we fucked against the front door as soon as you got home. Then again on the kitchen counter and again in front of the bathroom mirror and a fourth time in the shower, which was all a preamble to what I’d do to you in this bed.”
You look over his shoulder at the mattress cover and twisted sheet. You’d gotten in the habit of sleeping on Dami’s side. It hadn’t actually smelled like him for months.
“What would you do?” he asks.
“I…I have to get ready for work.” You try to climb off his lap, but Damiano holds onto your waist firmly.
“Did what I said offend you?” he pressed.
“No,” you reply breathlessly. The moment is deliciously intense, especially the way he’s staring.
“Overwhelm you? Turn you off in some way?”
“Uh, no. Well, maybe overwhelm a little bit…”
“In a bad way?” Dami hasn’t forced the issue in terms of sex since coming home.
“In a good way.”
“Then what would you do? If you didn’t have to get ready for work.” You pause and look down. “We don’t have to actually do it, at least not right now,” he whispers.
“I would – I want you….Um, you’d play with my nipples.”
“Mhm.” His hand slides up your chest and rests on your sternum.
“Then you’d put – push your hand down my front.” Dami obeys, his fingertips stopping at the waistband of your shorts. You stare, willing him to go further with every ounce of your being.
“Does my hand go under your shorts?”
“Yes,” you whisper.
“Does it go into your panties?”
“Yes.” His real hand doesn’t move. “Between my legs so I can…Actually, I kinda wish that I was just wearing a t-shirt so I could pull your pjs down and grind against your cock. And then, maybe…”
“Mhm,” he encourages.
“I’d take off my shirt too and rub my nipples against your chest until they were sore. Your – your sweaty, hairy chest. And you’d hold me like you weren’t worried about scaring me away. Really grabbing me, like you were confident, but also because you couldn’t help yourself.”
“Show me what you mean,” he demands.
“I – I can’t. You just have to.” Dami grabs a hold of your upper thigh with his free hand and flips both bodies. Your back lands on the mattress, arms and legs already wrapped around him. Damiano pushes you further onto the bed, so he has room to climb on top. It would take less than a minute for you to both wiggle out of your clothes then locate a condom and lube. Probably closer to 30 seconds. It's the same sensation as the makeout two mornings ago. You wanted to say yes, but your self preservation instincts weren’t letting that happen.
Damiano searches your wide-eyed expression for decisiveness and finds nothing of the sort. He can see you thinking about it. Then he sees you over-thinking it and knows that this will not be the moment you feel comfortable enough to trust freely.
“Like this?” He’s panting, as well, and for some reason, that's unbearable sexy. Dami isn’t putting on a facade. This borderline chaste amount of physical contact has got him worked up, too. You almost kiss him, then recall your morning breath and cover your mouth.
“I need to brush my teeth.”
“Y/n, I don’t give a good god damn whether or not you’ve brushed your teeth. I don’t care!” Dami loses his cool, but quickly recovers it. “I – sorry. Sorry, let me…” He walks his hands backwards and climbs off the bed, then helps you stand up.
“Thank you for the coffee,” you repeat, taking a long sip, that way a response won’t be expected. As you slip by Dami to leave the bedroom, he gives your butt a little squeeze. It was once a regular gesture in private, but he hadn’t taken this type of initiative since getting sober. You whip around with an impish smile, the mug nearly held to your lips. Damiano’s expression is watchful, then validated. He was testing the waters and your reaction basically invited him to jump right in.
Rather than refocus on his own routine, Dami watches you assemble a lunch while still in pajamas. He stands on the edge of the kitchen, pondering something, admiring you.
“Whatever your timeline for physical intimacy, I will respect it, 100%.”
“I know that, Damia.” You wash and fill your water bottle. He leans his hip against the counter with crossed arms.
“But if you're waiting for things to feel not scary with me, that day may never come. Our history isn’t gonna get more palatable.” You hadn’t considered things from that perspective before. “Part of a nurturing relationship is pushing each other, challenging restrictive thought patterns.” Damiano moseys over. First, his right hand cups your hip. Then, the left rubs the side of your glute languidly, before wrapping around your middle. Dami holds you casually, but still body to body, standing behind you at the kitchen sink. Each exhale ruffles your hair, a reminder of how much you’d missed this. Dami’s wandering hands and desire for closeness.
This must have been another thing you blocked out for survival, since an awareness of what once was made losing it lethally painful. You’d forced yourself not to remember and now the remembering felt like the first first bloom of spring after a frosty winter.
You lean against Dami, let his shoulder take the weight of your head. Then you lay your left arm over his, fingers lacing together.
“And I don’t want to push past your boundaries, but at the same time…” He leaves tender kisses down the column of your exposed neck. “This definitely exceeds a hand holding level of intimacy. It breaks the no couple behavior boundary –”
“Me and my fucking rules,” you groan. Repeated back, you sound certifiable, even from an understanding Damiano.
“This certainly qualifies as sexual touch.” His pinky and ring finger dip under your waistband as he dips into a whisper. “But I didn’t ask first and I don’t have to ask now, either, because just your body language is telling me how much you like this.”
“Forgot until just now.” With an even more dramatic groan, you turn around to meet his eyes. “Ugh! I know I’m shit at this –”
“Not what I was saying, at all,” he interrupts, thumb brushing your cheek. “I was just gonna suggest using a Listen for My No system of consent instead of Wait for My Yes. But that's such a sexually aggressive thing to suggest on someone else’s behalf that I…” He makes a face, nose scrunched up.
“But I agree with you. I’d like that, I really would, but, um…” Dami’s expression goes from relieved back to uneasy. “When I submit, I can’t usually access the decision making part of my brain. Kinda the point, actually.”
“Baby, we never do anything in subspace if we haven’t agreed to it first.”
“I know, but I’d feel –” You gesture erratically, but the right adjective never surfaces. So you settle on “shitty, I guess.” Avoidant, you stare at the floor in anticipation of Dami’s reaction. Of course, Princess is right there, biding her time for the inevitable moment that all this attention is rightfully turned to her. “Sassy Pants,” you coo. She rests her front paws on your shin and meows, so you pick her up.
“Y/n, I never want you to – awe, look at the fur baby.” Damiano gets distracted by Princess, who uses you like an elevator to his shoulder. She leaps onto him and Dami winces at her claws through his thin t-shirt. “Ow, ow, ow. Thanks for that Sassy Pants, now get off.” He sets Princess back down where she stares at him in betrayal.
“I’m sorry, was having him to yourself all night not enough attention?” You sass her right back with a hand on your hip while Dami laughs. The cat sulks, nimbly returning to the couch and curling up right on his pillow. “Do you see that? She’s the real reason we practice non-monogamy. So I don’t end up with my throat slit in my fucking sleep by her murder mittens!” Hoping to have successfully distracted him, you brush your teeth then slip back into the bedroom to get dressed. In the living room Dami sings to Princess, doing a little dance with her paws. The happy sounds carry through the partially ajar door.
“So, uh…” You’d almost finished pulling on your stockings when he leans against the door frame. “Sorry, am I allowed to look?”
“Yes, you’re allowed to look,” you scoff. He turns the corner just in time to watch your thighs disappear beneath a linen skirt. His lack of objection indicates that your earlier distraction wasn’t effective. He’s not feeling playful.
“What I was saying before is that I never want you to feel bad about putting parameters –”
“Damia, it’s not that.” He’s trying to soften the determination in his expression. “If I allow my rational mind to just slip away then I’m gonna…” again, words evade you “embarrass myself.”
“What do you mean embarrass yourself?” he croons. Damiano walks into the bedroom, cupping your cheek in his right palm. Meanwhile, his left hand slides across your waist and settles on the top of your glute. Another barrage of hidden memories: the early years when Damiano spoke your self-confidence into being fruition on anxiety-ridden mornings.
“I mean grind against your lap or leg or whatever while begging you to fuck me until I sob in a way that’s gonna hurt you to watch. Zero inhibitions as I try to convince you, okay? Just babbling and clinging and tears for your cock. ‘Daddy, my heart hurts because you won’t make love to me.’ I don’t want either of us in a position to navigate that.” Damiano becomes a statue. When it doesn’t immediately pass, you decide to pick a pair of sensible shoes while his brain resets.
“Does your heart hurt for more intimacy?” Now you’re the one frozen in place. “Seems like you may have just accidentally been completely honest with yourself.” Fuck. He was right.
“Could you pretend not to know me as well as you do?”
“No, y/n, I can’t.” You’d tried to lighten the mood, give yourself an out, and he’s rejected that effort wholesale. Damiano stands there, waiting for a real response, hands in the pockets of his pajama pants. Every morning he puts them on, after sleeping in his boxers, to make you comfortable. It suddenly feels so elementary, this game of pretend you’d been playing because you were scared shitless of losing him again.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For being a nervous wreck.”
“Being a nervous wreck about what?” You’re taken aback, having expected some sweet platitude like "don't be sorry, sweetheart.” Or perhaps, “You’re trying your best in a tough situation” punctuated by a kiss to the forehead. But you’d finally exhausted his patience and Damiano wasn’t going to feed you reassurances that you already knew to be true.
“About,” you gesture between your bodies “us!”
“Elaborate for me, please. What about us?” His tone isn’t hostile, just insistent.
“Our relationship.”
“Not my sobriety?”
“No…actually.” You’re even more surprised than Dami at that answer.
“Good. Why is our relationship making you a nervous wreck?”
“Because, because…” You feel cornered even though he hasn’t moved an inch. “I’m not sure.”
“Yes you are. You’re constantly reflecting and self-examining, especially recently. Some days you’re more in your head than you are in the world.”
“But the last couple days, I’ve been better at staying in the present. After our fight, I’ve been trying not to walk on eggshells.”
“And we’ve been so much more connected, which has been fucking incredible. But you’re still unhappy.”
“I’m not…” Were you happy? You should be happy. You have an objectively good job, a beautiful apartment. You have a loving family, loving friends, loving companions. Your soulmate has returned and he’s stable. But were you happy? With a subjectively horrible job, home full of traumatic memories, emotionally unavailable parents, fading friendships, and companions who’s reassurance couldn’t make you feel adequate so you’d stopped asking for it entirely.
“How many months do I need to go without relapse, without a crazy mood swing, without –”
“To get your dick wet?” You snap at him in anger. This was the definition of pressuring you.
“For you to trust me, y/n!”
“But sex is the way to show that I trust you? Go get laid, Damianno. Stop avoiding your other companions because you’re afraid they won’t forgive your behavior.”
“You get laid. Stop avoiding your companions because they remind you how profound our intimacy could be.” For what feels like an eon, you glare at each other in silence.
“How about we both admit that having sex with other people wouldn’t do anything to fill this…space?” It feels good to concede. Most of the tension leaves the air.
“Void?”
“Void is probably more accurate, yeah.” It’s just enough breathing room for reality to set in. “Fuck, I’m gonna be late for work.” You look around frantically for a hair tie to wrangle your unbrushed hair into an updo.
“Can you please just give this conversation another five minutes of your time?” There's a hair elastic on the floor, by your nightstand. You make a noise of victory, trying to remember if your travel hairbrush was still in the glovebox. “Three minutes?” he pleads. It’s too much. Mentally, you try to check out as an act of self-preservation. In your peripheral vision, Damiano snatches your phone off the bed. You can’t leave without it.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“I’m asking how long until you can trust me?”
“For me to trust you completely?” That gives Dami pause. He seems to realize that it's a pretty big question to spring on you before 9 AM. ”Check the phone you’re holding hostage for the time, please.” So begins the hunt for your purse.
“It’s…” With a strained voice, he looks at the home screen. Then his hand drops to his side. “It doesn’t matter. I am asking you – How about when are you gonna be able to at least trust that I’m not gonna abandon you?” Despite attempts to create space between yourself and this moment, it feels like being stabbed with a dull spear, right through the center of your torso. “Hey!” he finally raises his voice in exhasperation. “Can you at least fucking look at me when I’m bearing my soul to you!?” Both cats are hiding under the kitchen table. Standing in the kitchen, you turn to meet his gaze.
“I’m gonna be late for work.”
“Then be late! You hate that job anyways!” The shock reads easily on your features.. “I – that was out of line. Sorry. But this is never gonna work right until you trust me.” Your stomach drops. You feel nauseous and something akin to the beginnings of dissociation. This is why you’d been avoiding tough conversations. What if it went wrong? And if it did go wrong, what was going to happen? The ways Damiano had evolved as a person since going to rehab were great, but it also meant that you couldn’t predict his behavior anymore. If he walked out in anger, would he walk back in?
“Baby, that was really bad phrasing on my part.” His tone shifts completely, soft and doting in the way you’d expected it to be earlier. “Way too extreme.” Dami knew he’d scared you. That took precedence over what he so desperately wanted to achieve with this conversation. You have half a mind to run into his arms.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s gonna make me feel reassured that you won’t abandon me.”
“You don’t know, as in you can’t think of anything?”
“I don’t know!” You curl your hands into tight fists, fingernails digging into the soft flesh of your palms.
“Giving me an answer you regret and take back would be better than this purgatory.” Demand has officially overtaken supply. You’d required so much patience from Dami that it’d burned through all the categorical gratitude he felt for taking him back in any capacity. He was no longer just grateful to be here, he wanted a partner.
“If your answer is I don’t think I can ever trust you again, so be it.”
“I can trust you! I do trust you, but you’re also…” He’s hanging on to every word and you can’t even craft a basic sentence. “There’s you, but then there’s also an addict you. The first one earned my trust back more easily than I’d care to admit, but the addict you, he – it’s always there.”
“And you can never trust an addict.”
“No! But, but –” The phrase “never gonna work” rattles around in your head. “No, because…because” then we might break-up. You barely think the thought, but it's like a tripwire. Suddenly trapped under all the ways you could lose Damiano. Originally there were two contenders: freak accident and growing apart. Then fame was added to this list, then addiction. Now you had to acknowledge a fifth. Like the fifth side to a cage that can finally hold you captive, invisible to others, making them helpless to do anything but watch the light leave your eyes. He might break-up with you because you couldn’t figure out how to put the pieces back together.
“Hug me.” Damiano crosses the apartment in a few quick steps. The stinging of tears distracts you from returning the embrace, but that doesn't give him pause. The only reason you weren’t blubbering already was how secure he’d made you feel the past few days. Now that was out the window.
“Continuous hugging or do you want room to breathe?”
“Breathe,” you choke, wiping your eyes. Dami’s version of breathing room was taking half a step back and resting both hands on your hips. It was perfect.
“Be brave a little longer,” he coaxes.
“I don’t want us to…God, it’s like saying Voldemort or some shit.”
“The Phrase Which Must Not Be Named that starts with a ‘B’ and ends in the word ‘up?’”
“Yeah, I…No, I don’t even want to talk about it, Damia.”
“That's adorable.” You rest your forehead against his sternum and whine. He cups the base of your head and you loosely cross your arms behind him. “But I do need to know what made you think of The Phrase Which Must Not Be Named.”
“What if,” you resume hugging him instead of finishing the sentence. “What if I can never learn to trust the addict part of you and it happens?”
“I don’t trust the addict part of me, y/n. After everything that’s happened, I sure as shit don’t expect you to.” You pull away in order to look up in confusion. “Awe, sweetheart. I just need you to trust that this part of me has control over that shithead.”
“But relapse happens and – and you’ll always be an addict and an alcoholic. This is permanently a part of you.”
“Can you trust that I’m always gonna do my damndest not to lose control? And if I do I’m gonna find my way back?”
“It hasn’t even been three weeks.” Dami opens his mouth, closes it, and nods.
“Yeah thats a fucking good point. Damn.” He’s reeling. It’s interesting to see it happen to someone else. “I’m over here fuckin’...demanding to know when you’re gonna trust me again when I haven’t even given you a full month of stability.” You place a hand on Dami’s cheek, trying to redirect his gaze back to yours so he doesn’t get lost in self-loathing. He turns his head, but looks down. “I’m fucking comparing ‘well, I feel this way about her so –’”
“How do you feel about me?” His eyes flit up and you think the romantic in him might win.
“I feel the same way.” Or not. “Because it's easy to fall in love with somebody again and trust them again when they’re the same person. When they don’t have all this new baggage like I do.” Staring at his feet, Damiano mutters, “Nothing to compensate or…”
“You do not need to compensate, what a ridiculous thing to say!”
“Okay.” You watch him only partially internalize your words, in the same way he raises his eyes, but doesn’t quite look at you.
“Hey, you getting sober created new character traits that I love and am attracted to.”
“Enough to balance out the shit?” You scoff, taken aback.
“Yes! You’re not a fucking equation, Damia. You are a beautiful, compelling man who contains multitudes with this incredible capacity to create multitudes. Don’t separate yourself into these categories of worthwhile or not worthwhile.”
“Y/n.”
“It’s so linear. You’re reduced to a collection of likable traits when –”
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he announces. You allow yourself to be pulled in by the back of the head, eyes falling to his mauve, shapely lips. It’s sweet, slow, polite. It’s a gesture. It’s a this-kiss-conveys-my-love-and-respect-because-it's-not-the-kiss-I-wanted-to-give-you gesture. It’s a gesture that reveals he’s forgotten the comment you made earlier this morning.
“Lets,” one syllable and you feel short of breath. “Let's have the big scary talk tonight – tomorrow night! Let's have it tomorrow night.”
“Alright.” Damiano coaxes you back in by holding your chin and brushing his pointer finger back and forth. It tickles faintly and makes you smile into the equally chaste kiss. “Don’t forget, you have therapy today.”
***
“I’m only here to avoid the missed appointment fee, honestly.” You slouch, as if trying to disappear into the chartreuse loveseat.
“Oh?” Your therapist puts pen to paper and waits for elaboration. You stare at the floor and feel the pressure of tears behind your eyes. It's been like that since leaving the apartment, as though you were one inconvenience away from crying.
“Your disposition is certainly much different from our recent sessions.” Dr. Borough gives you another chance to speak, which you don’t take. She’s wearing all beige, minus an oversized necklace of reflective black beads. The color palette certainly suits the mood.
“Is it Damiano, work, anxiety that's been weighing on you?”
“All of the above.” After arriving 13 minutes late for work, Izolda called you into her stuffy, windowless office. She chastised you for being tardy twice in two weeks and you didn’t have the balls to point out that she’d personally excused the first instance. There were vague references to your performance review and callous comments about “allowing personal experiences to impede project outcomes.”
“Wow. So it's been a tough week?”
“It’s been emotionally laborious…So, yeah. Tough, I guess.”
“But productive?”
“Not when it comes to my job. That place is so devoid of humanity that I can feel part of my soul dying.”
“Sounds like you might need a change. Have you tried searching for –”
“I can’t handle a career change right now!”
“So what can you handle?” Finally, you burst into tears. “Oh, dear.” Dr. Borough pushes the box of tissues across the coffee table. “So what's going on in the other facets of your life? Are you and Damiano on good terms?”
“Yeah. He woke me up with espresso this morning, it was really sweet.” You wipe your face, which leaves a black smudge of hastily applied mascara on the white tissue.
“And his sobriety?”
“He relapsed trying to reintegrate too fast. It was just booze and he’s been sober since.”
“Wow.” She scribbles on her notepad. “So that must have been triggering.”
“It…It actually made me realize how sturdy he is. Like, he got right back on the wagon and he started really acting like himself the next morning. He didn’t go back to being an asshole with a passive death wish, he did the opposite.”
“So that sounds like great news!”
“I was such a mess, such a fucking mess.” The note taking intensifies. Somehow Dr. Borough is already halfway down the page. “He was so supportive! And he basically confronted me.”
“You mean comforted?”
“No. Well, yes. He’s noticed that I’m always in my head, trying to figure out the correct or most true course of action. And he said I didn’t need to be, because I wasn’t going to ruin his sobriety. Because he was taking care of his sobriety with a bunch of people at his rehab and stuff, so I didn’t need to prioritize it anymore. I could just prioritize myself and I could depend on him because he’s gotten to a point where he can be my support and also stay sober. But I –” you devolve into sobbing.
“Alright, take a moment. Just take a moment, y/n.” Dr. Borough doesn’t look up from her notepad for several seconds. “So, that's huge! How many days ago was that? You must be emotionally drained.”
“Yeah, from not dealing with it.”
“You’re emotionally drained from purposefully ignoring emotions?”
“Basically.”
“Alright.” Visibly processing, Dr. Borough adjusts her teal glasses and sits back. “Tell me about that.”
“Damiano just keeps pressing the issue. He wants to deconstruct and cross-examine the whole fucking situation immediately.”
“Is this usually the case, him pursuing hard conversations and you avoiding? In the past, you’ve mentioned having great communication.” It feels like an accusation that you’ve failed Damiano somehow.
“No, I’m just not ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“These fucking exhausting, weighty conversations!”
“What about them are you not ready for? In my experience, you can be very articulate, especially when it comes to emotions.”
“I’m not scared of talking about our feelings. We talk about our feelings all the time, anyways. I’m not even scared of conflict. We’ve fought twice this week already!”
“Oh, really?”
“But we work it out because we can admit that we’re wrong. We don’t get off on resenting or controlling each other.”
“What were those fights about?”
“This! Me!”
“You?”
“Ugh!” You throw your head back and groan. “He…thinks that I’m unhappy. I’m making myself miserable trying to do the right thing or by trying to control…something, us.”
“The right thing?” She raises one thinning eyebrow.
“What's best for me.”
“Doing what's best for you is doing what makes you happy. It’s doing what makes you fulfilled, puts you on the path to achieve your goals.” Dr. Borough pauses, staring at you pointedly. “In terms of Damiano. What are your goals? What will make you fulfilled?”
“Being together for real, harmonious, mind, body, and soul.”
“And are your current choices facilitating that?” You feel claustrophobic, fingernails digging into the heel of your hand again. “Why the anxiety?”
“Because I can’t control him!”
“True. But that’s always been true, y/n.”
“Doesn’t fucking matter what my goals are if the other person doesn’t feel the same.”
“You think Damiano doesn’t feel the same?”
“Well, no. I know he does.”
“Alright. So let's talk about this desire to control him.” That definitely felt like an accusation. “I just watched you have a strong reaction. Why don’t you explain that to me.” Pen to paper, Dr. Borough waits while you roll your eyes and huff in annoyance.
“Before I ever stepped foot in this office, I knew that the desire to control another person was toxic. I was already taking steps to ignore that desire when I felt it.”
“So you’re not trying to control him? That's not what's making you miserable?”
“I’m not miserable,” you bite.
“No, you’re not,” she agrees. “But you are experiencing bouts of unhappiness, like right now. You also have clinical anxiety which constantly affects your quality of life. Agreed?”
“Yeah…” The section of carpet at your feet is more worn than another other spot in the room.
“Explain to me why that is.” You choose to be insolent instead of introspective.
“It’s impossible to tack down exactly what collection of innate and external factors contribute to any one person developing –”
“Not the anxiety, y/n.”
“I…” don’t know. But Dr. Borough wasn’t going to let you off the hook. She waits expectantly. You check the clock to find that the session isn’t quite halfway done. Damn it.
“Why are you unhappy?”
“I’m at my therapy appointment when I’d much rather be taking a nap.”
“How has your sleep been since Damiano’s relapse?”
“Worse than usual, better than expected. We…”
“Yes?”
“Don’t judge me, but the night he relapsed we slept in the same bed. Like, I slept with him on the couch.”
“‘Slept with’ as in…?”
“Cuddled.” You blush all the way up to your ears.
“And that was enjoyable.” It’s apparently obvious from your delivery since Dr. Borough makes a statement, not a question.
“Yeah and…I could hear him crying so hard. I didn’t intend to spend the night there either, but I got sleepy really quick.” A stinging sensation alerts that you’d been picking at your cuticles without realizing. “Because it felt so safe.”
“Huh. So it didn’t feel like the kiss on the plane?”
“No, not at all.”
“Then why are you unhappy?” You glower, finally meeting Dr. Borough’s eyes. She is unfazed. “Damiano has the same relationship goals and it sounds as though he may be ready to act on those goals, right?” You don’t protest, because she’s correct, but you also don’t concede. “So this should be great news! It’s exactly what you wanted, which is why this reaction raises questions. I know it’ll be hard to admit, but maybe now that you have Damiano back, you’ve realized that your feelings towards him have changed.”
“What? No! God, I fucking wish I felt more casually about him. I wish that he couldn’t read my mind and that we didn’t have this fucking soul bond and that I could have a halfway satisfying sex life without him. I want to stop watching him sleep, getting choked up when I see his bougie shampoo in the shower, huffing his dirty gym clothes, and feeling like my heart’s been ripped out because I love him so much. I want to be less in love with him!”
“No, you don’t.” Dr. Borough sets the notepad and pen on her lap and settles into her chair with a smile. There’s been some sort of breakthrough or resolution reached. “So what's the real reason you’re self-sabotaging? Do you feel like you don’t deserve him?”
“I…guess.”
“Don’t guess.”
“Deep down inside somewhere, probably.”
“So is that it?”
“You’re the therapist.”
“And you’re far from emotionally repressed.” Dr. Borough purses her lips and squints. “So are you afraid of losing him?” You swallow hard, vision blurring with tears.
“Yes, of course. Now with these fucking high stakes conversations, what if something goes wrong?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Anything!”
“Based on what you've said so far, it sounds like you guys would work it out.”
“What if we break up?”
“Does it feel like you’re going to break up?”
“No.” You blow your nose and steel yourself. “I need him. I’ve let myself need him again. So I can’t, ca – can’t lose hi – him again. I can’t! It’ll fucking kill me. I don’t care if you think that's dramatic, because it genuinely feels like I’d die of heartbreak. Even thinking a – about it, can’t – I ca – ca –can’t breathe!” Dr. Borough ends up talking you off the edge of a panic attack. You think that’ll earn some slack, but it doesn’t.
“Okay, so just take small sips of water.” She uses her most soothing voice as you hold the paper cup in a trembling hand. “I’m going to be candid with you, y/n. Breaking up has always been a possibility and you’ve functioned despite it for years. Damiano dying of an overdose, however, is new. I think that’s what’s scaring you, the fact that death is irreparable.” You manage a nod. “Alright. That risk factor is never going away. So you have to decide if he’s worth it.”
“Of course he’s…” It's reminiscent of what Dami said this morning, which forces you to acknowledge that he was probably right. Putting the pieces back together was going to feel terrifying and you had to do it anyway. “I have all these rules to stop things from progressing before I’m ready. But maybe I’m never going to feel ready.”
“Progressing?”
“To stop Dami from getting too close, from things getting too intimate. I compartmentalized so damn much and I…every time I let him a little bit closer, it's like being hit by a semi-truck.”
“Reminders of his substance abuse?”
“No, beautiful memories of how our love manifested, all the ways we connected and felt at home in each other, felt profoundly understood. Memories of being joyous and intimate and becoming better people together.” Dr. Borough is noticeably moved.
“You choose to close yourself off to that because of the possibility of pain?”
“Yes!”
“That’s not living.” Finally, someone had just outright said it. You should feel stunned, but you don’t. “We’ve talked about living versus surviving in terms of your anxiety. The same can happen after trauma. Seeing Dami on life support –”
“Haven’t we already talked about that enough?” Reflexively, you make yourself smaller, hunkering down to survive this horrendous topic.
“I don’t know. Based on this reaction –”
“Based on this reaction, seeing my soulmate an inch from death is still traumatic? Shocking!”
“Traumatic, absolutely.” The even tonality of her speech is an embarrassing juxtaposition to your reactivity, but you’re still unable to quell it. “And based on your reaction, that memory still holds tremendous power over you.”
“Of fucking course it does! I still can’t even think about it like a real thing that happened to me!”
“I recall you’ve been dealing with a lot of dissociation, recently. More than usual.” Dr. Borough resumes note taking.
“Yes.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“Because I can’t handle what's happening around me,” you reply, monotonously.
“You think you can’t handle what's happening around you because a parentified, 15-year-old y/n without an emotional support system couldn’t handle it.” She pauses. In that space, tears blur your vision until the view of the damaged carpet and scuffed shoes becomes indiscernible. “But now you have an emotional support system. You are deserving of an emotional support system, which is something that your parents failed to model in your childhood.” Again, Dr. Borough gives you space to speak, but you curl into a ball, instead. She nudges the tissues further across the table with an empathetic expression. “So you’re protecting her.”
“I am not protecting my mother,” you grumble.
“Not your mother. You’ve been protecting 15-year-old y/n, shielding her. And now you’re protecting the y/n who was confronted by the mortality of her support system’s keystone. Neither of them could handle the present moment, but you can.” Dr. Borough cleans her glasses while waiting for you to say something. Maybe it's an intentional respite from being examined.
“What – How can –” your first reaction is to splutter incredulously. “I’m not, I mean I’m – That's just human development, isn’t it? Burning your hand on the stove teaches you not to touch a hot stove. Burns are bad. They scar, they get infected.”
“Y/n, you are not avoiding a burn. You are eating takeout for every meal to avoid going in the kitchen at all. You are putting on noise canceling headphones everytime someone says the word ‘stove’ and singing to yourself loudly. In this metaphor –”
“I get it, I get it.” Well, shit.
“You’ve heard me say this before: the anxiety, the trauma isn’t your fault. However, coping constructively is still your responsibility. And, yes, that’s unfair. You had to live for your emotionally unequipped parents. In reaction to that hospital visit, I think you may have done a bit of living for Damiano when he was emotionally unequipped for sobriety. Now you’re living for the versions of yourself that are emotionally unequipped to handle the present. But it won’t break you like it might have then.”
“How can you know that!? How…I just want time to recover! I want to be certain!”
“There will never be certainty and there will never be a pause button. I know that's a really hard reality to face with clinical anxiety.” Dr. Borough sets her elbows on her notepad and leans forward. “But y/n, face it you must.”
***
You hold it together on the drive home. Knowing that Dami will be on a Zoom call with his songwriting and production team, you don’t want to walk through the front door a mess and distract him. Unfortunately, Spotify decides to play Folklore-era Taylor Swift as you pull into the parking garage.
I knew you/Hand under my sweatshirt/Baby, kiss it better
By the time the car is parked, you’re already crying. Your first group outing as a couple was a Roma football game with most of his friends and several cousins. The omnipresent barrage of screaming made your ears ring and triggered a panic attack. You tried to suppress your reaction, for which you’d finally receive a diagnosis just weeks later. When that became impossible, you settled on concealing your emotions until it passed. Just don’t freak out. For fucks sake, don’t embaress yourself.
Having turned your focus inward, the roar of the audience was a surprise and so inescapably loud that it couldn’t even be described by volume. The sound became a tangible force, beating you over the head. So you fled, hands clamped over your ears, tears flowing. It seemed like every person you passed chided you.
“‘Msorry, ‘msorry, ‘msorry, ‘msorry, ‘msorry,” you repeated, voice frail and high-pitched with terror. The adrenaline at least made climbing all those steps easier. Upon reaching the hallway at the top of the staircase, you turned around to scan the field, determining it was a good time to drop your hands. That's when you saw 18-year-old Damiano huffing and puffing, all focus dropped from the game behind him.
“Hey,” he panted, expression confused. “Hey, you just…Are you okay?” You shook your head, mouth contorted into an ugly shape. “Well, come here, baby.” Dami opened his arms like it was obviously the next logical step to hold you. The gesture revealed that he’d remembered your purse and was wearing it. You could have blurted out “I love you,” right then and there. His sparkling, empathetic eyes framed by smeared eyeliner, outstretched hands decorated by gaudy rings, and wearing his lucky sneakers which were at least a size too small. A couple middle-aged, balding men looked him up and down in disgust. Dami didn’t even notice.
“You need a hug,’ he decided, wrapping you up.
“Thanks,” you croaked, trembling arms finding steadiness where they held him.
“What’s wrong with her?” asked a male voice passing by.
“Nothings wrong with her! Who the fuck are you, eh?”
“Sorry, man.”
“No, who the fuck do you think you are saying that?”
“You’re in the middle of the walkway, dude.”
“And you’re in the middle of my fucking business, asshole!”
“Damia,” you murmured.
“Sorry, sorry.” You wondered if he could discern your smile against his pilling jersey. The fabric made your face feel raw after exposure to the ruthlessly cold gusts of wind that swept up the sides of the stadium. Still, you felt compelled to hug him tighter, but ignored the compulsion so as not to encourage Damiano acting like an attack dog. But fuck if it hadn’t made you feel chosen at age 18, coming from a family who’s attitude was god forbid your emotions inconvenience anyone.
Damiano didn’t think you were too emotional, the girl choking on her own tears over a football audience being predictably loud. He stood in the stadium’s walkway, inconveniencing everyone else to prioritize comforting you. Despite not knowing what was awry, he still managed to be soothing. Dami’s inexplicably warm hands rubbed your back under the Roma sweatshirt you wore – actually his, of course. He hummed music from the radio with a cheek pressed to your head and you subsequently felt the music’s vibrations. It tickled. An unfamiliar sensation burgeoned in the darkest recesses of your heart. Not then, but eventually, you’d come to know it as stillness.
Notes: Don't yell at me I warned you! Also I'll post the next part (the smuttastic part) when this post has 40 notes hehe
-XOXO Eden
✧ The Sun is the Center of Everything Table of Contents
✧ My Masterlist
✧ Get notified via Taglist!
@surelyfreedombound @shinshans @lonnybunnys @davianos-blog @hauntedpostpersona @lizzylynch1 @kammerstx @harryssshouseee @slavicgoddess13 @persona1read1ng @katyldamusic @whore4damia @the-chaotic-cow @icarodamiano @gr8rainbowpunk @elvirabelle @bright-shiningstar @maneslut @stardustingold @que--sera--sera @dustyinkpages @lapauradelcheez @girlnred @ami--gami @guksunshine @cuzimitaliano @harmonia-dread @soundscuntfeelscunt @tellmesomething01 @kazzledazzle-s1d3
*@mrschrissturniolo can't tag you babe! check if your blog is hidden
#maneskin#måneskin#damiano david#må#damiano#damiano maneskin#maneskin damiano#damiano david x reader#damiano david fanfiction#damiano david imagine#damiano david x y/n#damiano david x you#damiano david smut#damiano david fic#damiano x reader
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
hi, my name is jess, my pronouns are (she/they), welcome to gotheskin (mia goth + måneskin), a blog where i will be writing and posting about different celebrities.
about me (in progress)
requests are: open
(be specific in your requests by stating the character(s), & the basic kinks and/or plot points!)
people i write smut / fluff / angst about are:
måneskin [masterlist here]
damiano david
ethan torchio
victoria de angelis
thomas raggi
one piece live action (2023) [masterlist here]
monkey d. luffy
roronoa zoro
nami
vinsmoke sanji
koby
captain buggy
dracule mihawk
shanks
dune (2021+24) [masterlist here]
paul atreides
chani kynes
princess irulan
feyd-rautha harkonnen
margot robbie characters [masterlist here]
naomi lapaglia (wolf of wall street 2013)
harley quinn (suicide squad 2016 / birds of prey 2020 / the suicide squad 2022)
barbie (no smut for barbs, our ace queen) (barbie 2023)
mia goth characters [masterlist here]
(young) pearl (pearl 2022)
maxine minx (x 2022, maxxxine 2024)
pedro pascal characters [masterlist here]
joel miller (the last of us 2023)
din djarin (the mandalorian 2019)
matthew lillard characters [masterlist here]
stu macher (scream 1996)
tim laflour (senseless 1998)
shaggy rogers (no smut for him either!) (scooby doo 2002)
misc characters [masterlist here]
tiffany valentine (bride of chucky 1998)
tangerine (bullet train 2022)
elvis presley (elvis 2022)
ken (barbie 2023)
artists i post about are:
chappell roan
måneskin
king princess
kim petras
#måneskin smut#damiano david smut#ethan torchio smut#victoria de angelis smut#thomas raggi smut#margot robbie smut#harley quinn smut#barbie fluff#ryan gosling smut#ken smut#maxine minx smut#aaron taylor johnson smut#tangerine smut#austin butler smut#elvis smut#matthew lillard smut#stu macher smut#tim laflour smut#tiffany valentine smut#måneskin#lana del rey#kim petras#melanie martinez#cannons#michelle joy
97 notes
·
View notes
Text
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!
#maneskin smut#maneskin fanfiction#maneskin#victoria de angelis smut#victoria de angelis#damiano david#damiano david smut#ethan torchio#ethan torchio smut#thomas raggi#thomas raggi smut
194 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pumpkin Spicy Night
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Måneskin (all of them)
summary: you had great plans for a Halloween night, which got changed by mother nature herself, yet in the end, it turns out much better than you hoped for
word count: 4.3k
contents: SMUT
author’s note: I tried to make it at least a little spooky, my first longer fic after a break so i hope you’ll like it, and well, it includes everyone so🎃
Måsterlist | tåglist | my chapter story
...
It started as a perfect, sunny day. Nothing indicated that nature would soon ruin and change the plans you made for that night. Halloween was always special to you, but this year even more than usual. Vic called you a day before and said that she wants to take you as her plus one to a party on the outskirts of Rome. You were friends for a while now, but after one of the weekends you two spent alone in their house, you became more than that.
You gave in to the sexual tension that was in the air and spent the most passionate night together. From that day you had casual, wild sex with no bigger commitment. It seemed like the best option for you and where you were in your life. Some harmless fun with no strings attached.
You were really excited after her call, it was a promise of a great night in the best company you could possibly think of. Besides a good sexual match, you were actually great friends. You grabbed a bag full of different costume options, some makeup and car keys. Soon later you were in her room, sitting on the edge of her bed with your legs dangling from it. Vic was in the process of going through her closet, trying to find a lacy top she wanted to wear.
“Maybe you left it at Nica’s?” You asked with a faint smile, watching her growing frustration as she kept tossing the clothes around.
“No, I called her already, fucking hell where is it?!”
“Maybe Thomas borrowed it?” You leaned back on your elbows and frowned. “Damn, look at these clouds…”
Vic turned around and came closer to a window, she moved the curtains to the side and sighed. The sky got dark, the entire room looked as if someone switched the lights off.
“Yeah, it seems like a storm is coming, a big one.” She turned to you, and at the same time, a flash of big lightning ripped the sky in half, making you widen your eyes. “Oh, that was impressive.” She said and her words were followed by a loud thunder which made the widows shake.
“I don’t know if we’ll make it to the party before it hits.” You whispered, sitting up straight.
“Well…” Vic smirked and walked over to the bed. She climbed on the bed and sat behind you. “We could just stay here and entertain ourselves otherwise.” She purred, leaning over to your ear, and pushing your hair aside. She placed a wet kiss on your neck, slipping her arms around you.
“Don’t you want to go?” You asked with hesitation in your voice. Her hands cupped your breasts and gently squeezed them. You let out a sigh.
“Oh, you still want to?” Vic asked with a chuckle. She grabbed the hem of your top and started pulling it up, to finally take it off you and throw it aside. “I think your body says something else…”
“Uh huh yeah maybe…maybe we can stay.” You mumbled as she unclipped and slid the bra off your body.
Vic kissed your neck, her one hand was teasing your bare nipple, flicking it and pinching it from time to time. Her other hand found its way between your thighs, brushing the damp material of your panties.
“God, you’re so desperate already…” She mumbled and moved the material aside, making you gasp as her fingers touched your soaked pussy.
Her fingers danced around your folds slowly, teasing your clit and spreading your wetness around. She sat close behind your back, stretching her legs around you. She hooked them under your calves and pulled your legs apart, exposing you more. You reached behind and tangled your hand in her hair, gasping and whining under her touch.
“Fuck I need to taste you…” She purred into your ear, taking away her fingers.
Vic moved away and took your hand. You turned around and grabbed her chin, pulling her into a passionate kiss. You helped her out of her top and pushed her on her back, got rid of your panties and straddled her. You placed your hands on her bare tits, teasing them gently, making her sigh in pleasure. Vic watched you with a grin, her beautiful, blue eyes giving you comfort, she kept stroking your thighs, encouraging you to move higher. Finally, your pussy was only inches from her chin, she looked at you and smiled.
“Good girl…” She purred.
Vic pulled you down on her lips and placed an intense kiss on your clit. You screamed and bucked your hips forward. She kept swirling her tongue around your clit, kissing and teasing you, faster and faster. You were already close when she started, her warm tongue was just perfect, pushing you over the edge. She spanked your ass loudly.
“Ride my face, baby…” She mumbled, and that was all you needed.
Your hips started swaying back and forth, the blissful friction got you screaming and gasping erratically. The loud noise synched with huge lighting which drowned the room in a blue glow. You came with a loud cry, grasping her hair, riding out your high.
“Shhh!”
“What?” You mumbled, looking down at her with hazy eyes, still trying to catch your breath.
“Did you hear that?” She asked with a serious look.
“No…it’s probably wind or…” A loud bang coming from downstairs interrupted you.
“Yeah, I don’t think so…” Vic said with a nervous tone and patted your thigh. You got off her and sat on the bed with shaky legs.
“Maybe it's Thomas?” You asked, picked up her goodie and put it on. Vic grabbed her top.
“Thomas is asleep in his room, and the noise is coming from downstairs.” She kept looking at the door, biting her thumb.
“What about Damiano? Ethan, maybe?” You put a hand on her shoulder and gave her a light squeeze, feeling how tense she was,
“Ethan left an hour ago, Damiano is visiting his mother today. Fuck…” she sighed and looked at you. “We need to go and check.
“No….Vic, no, that’s the main reason why people die in horror movies, come on.” You tried to grab her hand, but she was faster. Vic stood up and grabbed the candlestick. She yanked the candle out and threw it aside.
“Vic, love, do you want to fight a ghost with…this?” You could barely hold back the laughter, but Vic seemed awfully serious.
“Oh sure, laugh at me, I want to see you fighting a burglar with a damn cross and holy water.” She scoffed and looked at you with a raised eyebrow. “Exactly, now let’s go. And be quiet.”
The whole situation seemed a little ridiculous, maybe it was the fault of endorphins rushing through your system, but you were struggling to take Vic seriously, while she was sneaking up on a mysterious noise. Your smile faded away as soon as you stepped out of the room. The house was drowning in darkness, the thunders were making you wince every few seconds. The howling wind got into the house through an open window, rattling ominously against the wall. Vic closed it and grabbed your hand. She gave you an encouraging look before taking the first step downstairs. You squeezed her hand hard, now genuinely scared of what you might find. The storm seemed like a perfect time to break into someone’s house. The noises were muffled, and people would pay less attention to them. You finally got to the living room. The cold, stone floor was making you shiver, the room was dark, lit only by lightning ripping the sky apart every few seconds. It was one of the scariest storms you’ve seen in a while. Vic Pulled you towards the kitchen, then the studio, and a bathroom. Nobody was there. You checked the front door which was locked, just the way Vic left them when you came over.
“One place left,” Vic whispered and pointed towards the dark corridor leading to the laundry room and the garage. She clicked the light switch but nothing changed. The power was out.
“Maybe let’s get a flashlight or…” You tried your best, but Vic was already grabbing the handle of the door leading to the garage. The next thing you could hear was her scream.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Do you want me to have a heart attack?!” She yelled, and her words were followed by chaotic smacking of…someone.
“Calm down, are you insane?!” Ethan covered himself from her punches.
“Jesus Christ what are you sneaking up like that?!” Vic threw the candlestick aside and put her hands on her hips, her face was red and her nostrils flared up. She was furious, he must’ve scared her a lot.
“I was on my way to a party and I saw the dark clouds, so I came back here to get a car. Just in time, it started raining when I got here. And the power went out and I couldn’t open out fucking electric door!” He ended up with a raised voice and a light kick aimed at the car tire. “Sorry, hi y/n.” He gave you a faint smile, “I didn’t mean to scare you two.”
“Hi.” You mumbled quietly.
“Well you interrupted us something important so don’t expect me to forgive you so quickly,” Vic said and pouted, cocking her head to the side.
“Oh really?” he asked, looking you two up and down in a pale light coming from outside. You were barely clothed, had messy hair and smudged lipstick, Vic wasn’t any more representable. He smirked. “Oh, I see, judging by looks and moods I assume it was your turn now hmm?” He cooed to Vic and turned to you. “Well since I’m already late to the party, and you’re probably not going anywhere either…” He bit his lip and kept staring at you with a grin.
“Oh I’m sorry, are you trying to fuck her or…?” Vic scoffed and stepped a little closer, wrapping her arms around your waist. “Would you like that, cucciola? I can tell him to fuck off…” He whispered into your ear, her warm breath tickled your skin.
“Well, to be fair…I wouldn’t mind.” You said quietly and looked at Ethan, who already had a big, proud grin on his face. You were open to anything, and Ethan was definitely one of the people you couldn’t say no to. He had this mystic aura around him, seemingly stoic, but so damn hot. And well, there were rumours you’ve heard that needed to be tested.
“Deal, but I won’t just look, I hope you’re aware…” She said to Ethan and pulled you to the living room.
She pushed you onto the sofa and straddled you. Vic looked deeply into your eyes and smirked.
“Whore…” She whispered and pressed her lips to yours, kissing you deeply.
When she broke off the kiss, you saw a light behind her, spreading around a room with a nice orange glow. Ethan finished lighting some candles, he put a few blankets and pillows on the carpet and got rid of his shirt. He stepped closer, pushing his hair back, the candlelight made his muscles look even more defined. Ethan cupped your face with his big hand and stroked your cheek.
“You’re so gorgeous, I hope you know that, cucciola.” He brushed your lips as you smiled, and leaned closer to give you a soft kiss.
“Oh she knows, I make sure she hears that often,” Vic said with a hint of jealousy in her voice, you liked how possessive she was, but only around her bandmates. There was some kind of rivalry between them, very amusing to watch. But deep down you knew she didn’t mind sharing.
“Well never enough compliments, am I right?” Ethan whispered and started slowly unzipping the hoodie, exposing your bare breasts. He sighed and licked his lips when the candlelight shone on them. “So pretty and soft…”
He traced his finger down your neck, to your breast, circling your nipple before brushing it gently. You gasped quietly, making him hum. Vic knelt beside you and started stroking your leg, sneaking her hand higher and higher up your thigh, forcing you to widen your legs. Finally, she reached your bare pussy and cupped it with her hand. You closed your eyes and bit your lip.
“Fuck you’re so hot…”
Ethan’s hand wrapped around your throat in a light grip, you looked at him and parted your lips, unable to resist a sigh, Vic’s touch was getting more and more intense. You pressed your hand to his chest and started slowly dragging it down to the hem of his trousers. His breathing became louder as you put your hand over the growing bulge. You started unbuckling his trousers, staring at him with hazy eyes. Vic slipped her two fingers in, making you moan and grip Ethan’s arm.
“Can’t wait to bury my cock inside you…” Ethan purred into your ear, guiding your hand to his cock, you gave him a few slow strokes. He was thick and heavy, twitching under your touch. “You’re just aching for it, hmm?” He asked and winked at Vic who added another finger.
“We need to get you ready, baby.” She kissed your leg and chuckled.
“Please…I’m ready, I can’t….” You whined, giving Ethan a pleading look.
“Oh, are you begging?” He asked, pinning his dark eyes in you.
“Uh huh, I am…” You whined and moaned loudly as Vic started pumping her fingers faster.
Ethan grabbed you and commanded Vic to stop. He swiftly laid you on your back, on the blankets and pillows, making sure you were comfortable. He kicked his jeans aside and knelt in front of you. You kept watching him impatiently, spreading your legs wide, feeling no shame left. Ethan teased your clit with his tip for a moment, before slowly pushing in, stretching you around his thick cock. You moaned and grabbed the blanket so hard that your knuckles got white. He slowly pushed his entire length into you, and stroked your thighs with a proud grin.
“Such a good girl…” He mumbled between low grunts, picking up his pace.
Vic crawled closer to you and cupped your chin.
“Aww you didn’t think I’m going to sit and watch, did you? I think you owe me, love.”
She took off her top, straddled you and moved closer, till her pussy was only inches from your face. You placed both hands on her ass, squeezing it and pulling her down on your lips. Vic moaned and threw her head back, her long hair tickled your tummy. Ethan’s grip on your hips tightened as he started speeding up. Your moans sent vibrations against Vic’s clit, making her whine and wriggle, bucking her hips faster, grinding on your tongue. Ethan got louder and rougher, you felt that your body was slowly giving up. All you could do was to hold Vic still and have your tongue out while she rode it, chasing her release. As soon as she screamed, and moved away, still shaking in convulsions, you felt that you were only seconds away from bliss. She got off you and laid by your side, cooing sweet nothings into your ear and playing with your breasts. Soon the wave of orgasm washed over your body, and the only thing you could see was Ethan’s face in a grimace of orgasm as he came deep inside you with a loud moan. He slipped out of you and collapsed, wrapping an arm around your middle.
Your peaceful moment of rest was interrupted by a loud bang and an unsettling crack coming from the outside. The three of you jumped and looked at the giant window. The noise was followed by footsteps running down the stairs.
“What the fuck happened…here.” Thomas was still half asleep, holding onto his pillow, wearing nothing but boxers. He looked at the three of you with parted lips, clearly surprised to see you naked in the middle of the living room. “What…”
“I was about to go and see…” Ethan pulled on his underwear and threw a blanket on his back. He grabbed a big flashlight and opened the balcony door.
The gust of cold wind got into the living room, making you and Vic squeak before he closed them again. In all that chaos you briefly forgot that you were still naked. You turned around and glanced at Thomas, who was shamelessly staring at your tits. He cleared his throat and tried to fix the bent material of his boxers, giving up under his growing bulge.
“We got carried away, alright? Don’t be a perv…” Vic chuckled, making him blush.
“No, come on, I didn’t…” he started, a bit annoyed at her accusation.
“Vic, stop it, we’re literally in the middle of the living room. Besides…” you smirked at him “I don’t mind the audience.”
Thomas reciprocated the grin and chuckled. Vic looked at you with a raised eyebrow.
“You could’ve said earlier that you’d like to fuck them all, there were things I could’ve arranged.” She said and got nudged in the ribs by you. “So? Do you want to fuck them all?”
“Come on Vic, it’s not that I planned it…” you looked at her, her intense stare worked like a serum of truth. “Well yeah, I always considered them hot, maybe I fantasized about them once or twice…”
“You could’ve told me!” She smacked you with a pillow, “Not all of them are present but…” She glanced at Thomas, watching your bickering with curiosity. His bulge was still very much present, and the size of it made you wonder how great this night could be.
“Well,” Ethan interrupted you by opening the balcony door again and barging into the living room, soaking wet. “Seems like a branch of a tree broke and smashed our bin. But that’s all, no demons, no burglars.” He stopped and looked at Thomas, awkwardly trying to shield his crotch from him.
“Oh for fucks sake, don’t look at me like that.” Thomas mumbled with anger.”
“Oh no, I’m not judging you dude, I’m not this much of a hypocrite. Quite the opposite, I would encourage you…” he looked at you with a grin, “This one over here is damn good, and if she’s interested…”
“She is.” You said with a smile.
Thomas grabbed his cock through his boxers and smiled back. He summoned you with his finger and backed till his legs hit the sofa. Thomas sat down heavily and watched you crawl to him on all fours. You knelt in front of him, watching his pink cheeks, fluffy hair and lips parted from lust.
“Good girl.” He mumbled, and stroked your head.
You pulled on the waistband of his boxers and set his hardening cock free. Thomas gasped and bit his lip, grabbing a fistful of your hair. You grabbed him firmly and gave him a few strokes, happy with how he reacted to your touch. The moment your tongue slid over his skin he whined and pulled your hair, making you hum. The noises behind you suggested that Ethan and Vic sat on the other sofa and kept staring at your exposed ass. Thomas pushed your head down, encouraging you to take him in your mouth. It was hard to fit his entire cock in, but slowly you started bobbing your head, making quiet gurgling noises. He started grunting, now both his hands were holding your head, dictating you the rhythm. You felt how wet you were getting, almost dripping on the floor, aching to get him inside of you.
“Fcuking storm…what the hell did I miss?!” Damiano appeared out of nowhere, he must’ve used the garage door.
He looked at the four of you with a devilish smirk, the water was dripping from his clothes and hair. You lifted your head, and looked at him, with saliva mixed with precum dripping down your chin. Thomas still had his hands in your hair. The only semi-dressed person was Ethan, yet his boxers were slid down a little. He must’ve started playing with himself at the sight of that show. Vic’s hand was between her thighs, her flushed cheeks suggested that she was doing the same thing.
“Well? We’re having an orgy and nobody called me? Hi, yn.” He started taking off his shirt and threw it on the floor with a wet noise. He unbuckled his belt and looked at you. “Don’t worry, I’m just getting rid of this before I get a cold. Don’t mind me…” he said and kicked his jeans aside.
“Umm…well…” You looked at Thomas and raised your eyebrow. Thomas smirked and stroked your cheek.
“I think she wants to say that she wouldn’t mind having you here as well. Is that right?” Thomas asked and winked at you.
“Yeah well…there are things I always wanted to try with you two so…” You mumbled to Thomas and turned to Damiano. He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.
“Is that so?” He asked and looked at Thomas. “Thommy?”
“I don’t mind sharing…” he said while tucking a string of hair behind your ear.
“And…would your fantasy include having both of us in you at the same time? Is that what you had in mind?” He asked and walked closer, looking down at you with a grin. You nodded. “Well then…” Damiano leaned to Thomas and whispered into his ear. Thomas smiled and stood up.
They shuffled a little, Thomas laid on his back on the blankets and encouraged you to get down with him. You straddled him, allowing his hard cock to rub against your folds. He placed himself in such a way that you were facing the couch with Ethan and Vic, both playing with themselves, each of them with hands between their legs. Thomas started teasing you with his long fingers and sighed at how wet you were.
“You think you can take it, cucciola?” He mumbled, placing both hands on your hips.
You nodded and lifted yourself, to slowly lower yourself on his length. You took him slowly but in one go, feeling the wonderful stretch, spreading warmth over your body.
“Fuck she’s unbelievable…taking you so well…” Damiano’s raspy voice appeared out of nowhere.
He knelt behind you and started kissing your back, and neck, cupping both your breasts. He walked around to the front of you, his hardening cock in his hand, he leaned down and kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth. Thomas’ hips bucked up, making you moan against his lips. Damiano chuckled and placed himself behind you. You kept a slow pace with Thomas, knowing what else was coming. Soon you felt Damiano’s fingers, and the coldness of lube, circling your other hole. He kept kissing your back and neck, playing with your tits with his other hand. Thomas tightened the grip on your hips, speeding up a little bit. Damiano slipped his finger in your ass, slowly at first, but seeing your reaction he hummed satisfied.
“Feels good?” He purred into your ear.
“Yeah…” You mumbled and turned your head a little to him. “More…please…” You whined, getting more eager from Thomas’ moves.
Damiano slipped another finger with a grunt and spanked you with a free hand.
“Such a good girl…” He started slowly moving them, you felt that the world was starting to spin.
“Wait…” Damiano mumbled to Thomas and pressed his hand to your back to make you lean forward.
He started pressing his cock against your entrance, and after a moment of resistance, he slipped in. You gasped loudly, feeling so full and close to release.
“Still having fun?” Damiano asked, slowly pushing further till he bottomed out.
“Yes…fuck yes…” You managed to mumble, making them both chuckle.
They found a common rhythm, pounding into you, making you moan and whimper incoherent begs and pleading for them to go faster. A few thrusts later you felt the orgasm so strong that you almost passed out. Your bodies moved in sync for a while, till all three of you rode out your orgasm. The room was filled with moans, grunts and screams. You kept panting, barely able to see from dizziness. You collapsed on Thomas’ chest, feeling them both slipping out of you. You looked at the couch, where Ethan just finished on his gorgeous chest, but Vic was still close.
“Look at me…tell me to come…” She mumbled to you, her fingers moving fast, three of them disappearing in her pussy, the other hand rubbing her clit.
“Come for me…fucking come…” You mumbled. “Please, I want to see you come, mommy.”
Your words worked, she screamed, trapping her hands between her clenching thighs. The wet noises filled the room. She looked at you with a grin and bliss on her pink face.
They took great care of you, helped you to clean yourself up and wrapped you in a blanket. The four of you created a big cuddling pile under the fluffy covers, all gathered on the floor, limbs tangled together, breaths coming back to normal. You had no idea whose hands were here on your back, who was stroking your hair and kissing your head. All you knew was that you felt happy and spent. Damiano, still a little wet, lit a fire in the fireplace and slipped back under the blanket. Ethan grunted as he touched him with his cold feet. The storm seemed to be going away, the quiet rumbling was barely audible. All of a sudden the lights came back up. Thomas chuckled and sighed.
“Amazing timing. Well…happy Halloween guys.”
...
taglist: @thewitchinthemountain @8iunie @oro-e-diamanti @tempobrucera @coven-daddy @bethanysnow @writingmaneskin @blackberryblossom @hiraetheral @theimpossiblehologramtree @ilwiwbysmv @weareoddlydrawn @jrj2 @bieberhoodforever @chesirecatt @que--sera--sera @iamtashaquinn @butkutee @ohdamiano @stardustingold @woahzz11 @cuzimitaliano @thegeminisgirl @bisexual-babygirl-mj @maneslut @eliseline @dpaccione @xweirdxsceletton @agentreid2 @roisinlove123 @vicdeangelis @ohladymoon @ykaaarus @androgynouscloudenemy
#maneskin fiction#maneskin smut#maneskin writing#maneskin x reader#maneskin imagine#smut#damiano david#ethan torchio#victoria de angelis#thomas raggi#my writing#damiano david smut#ethan torchio smut#victoria de angelis smut#thomas raggi smut#damiano david x reader#ethan torchio x reader#victoria de angelis x reader#thomas raggi x reader
839 notes
·
View notes
Text
Angry love
A/n: Heyy loves IM BACKKK sorry I haven’t been posting lately i have been really busy but im am back with a little cute short story also I just wanted to say that y/n in this story is Italian and Puerto Rican just like me so yea she will speak two different languages also Happy late Easter @ellior1111 @tommy-lee-slash
Paring:Damiano David x fem!reader
Warnings: no that much besides swearing
Summary:dami had pissed you off by playing a prank on you that you got really mad about.
“No fuck you.” You yelled at dami pushing him away from you. (A lil back story) Dami had played a prank on you that you had gotten really mad about and you had began to curse him out. (Back to present) “Listen baby I’m sorry okay i didn’t think that you would get this mad.” He said walking over to you. “Don’t come near me or I will.” “What will you do dear.” He said with a smirk on his face. The next minute the door opens. “Hey baes.” Vic said walking in. “Hey dami and y/n.” Thomas said following behind her. “Hey love birds.” Ethan said Walking behind Thomas. “Woah what the hell is going on.” Vic said. “Questo fottouto teste di cazzo ha pensato che Foss divertente farmi uno scherzo.” You said to Vic. “Damm dami no Wonder why I heard yelling from outside I thought y’all was fucking.” She said laughing a lil. “Isn’t she just so fine when she curses me out in Italian.” Dami said leaning over to Ethan. “Damiano you are one crazy man.” Ethan said. “No it’s just like how did I get with her.” He said putting his hand over his heart. “Dami now I’m not trying to be weird or anything but we all know Damm well you are a bottom and your y/n’s bitch.” Thomas said laughing. “No porque esta Maldita perra piensa que es graciso ha Cerle esa a la Gente.” You Said yelling at him. “Man I love when she yells at me In Spanish.” Dami said looking over at Thomas and Ethan. “Yeah you got some serious problems.” Thomas said. “Well you two how about you two either one hug it out 2 make out or 3 fuck and then say sorry because I want to watch a movie and spend time together when y/n doesn’t want to kill damiano.” Vic said  hugging the both of you and dami. “Get me away from the Hijo de puta.” You said breaking up the hug. (Moments later) you were cuddled up in dami’s arms then Ethan Thomas and Vic were all laying down together. “You know y/n you look kinda cute like this in my arms.” Damiano said to you. “ i still hate you by the way.” “Will you to get a room please I’m trying to watch the movie here okay the black phone(saw what i did. there) is my fav.” Vic said. You all watch the movie until everyone had fell asleep. THE END ❤️🩹
#fem!reader#maneskin smut#ethan torchio#damiano maneskin#ethan maneskin#damiano david#thomas maneskin#victoria maneskin#måneskin#thomas raggi#victoria de angelis#ethan torchio smut#smut#damiano david smut#the black phone
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
From Fx to a D // Professor Damiano AU! x Fem! Reader
Pairing: Damiano x reader
Summary: Y/N was never good at learning foreign languages. It got even harder when the most handsome man she has ever seen started teaching her Italian class and got her distracted all the time. He seemingly noticed her interest in him and one trip to the library lead into something more interesting...
Warnings: SWEARING, SMUT, PUBLIC SEX, UNI TEACHER-STUDENT RELATIONSHIP, PROBABLY INCORRECT ITALIAN WORDS/PHRASES (I used Google translate because I am too embarrased to ask my italian learning friends to help me with smut lol), ALSO BARELY PROOFREAD BC I AM STUPID AND NEED TO RUSH THINGS
Y/F/N - your friend's name
Y/L/N - your last name
IT IS FINALLY HERE!
Yes, I promised it would come out on Monday but I literally cannot grasp the concept of time. Managing it is really something I need to work on. But I hope no one is that mad at me. Now, let's enjoy this trip to horny-town, shall we?
ENJOY!
Don't forget to leave any sort of feedback and reblog if you like it!
You couldn't keep your eyes off him.
You weren't able since the first day of last semester. When he walked through the door, his messy hair and white shirt with few buttons undone on the top, you knew you were screwed. He looked like a roman god. Straight out of historical romance novels. The perfect little stubble showing on his face made your mind wander off many times. Wondering, how would it feel scratching against your thighs, with him between them. Oh, how many nights you thought about him leading you to the professors' lounge and after closing the door, slamming you against them and not having any mercy.
You had no chance.
You had to keep reminding yourself to get out of these little daydreams. To actually pay attention to his words, you had to fight yourself every Tuesday afternoon. You were never that good at Italian and ever since this distraction in a human form walked into your life, it got even harder. Hell, if some higher powers weren't in your favour, you probably would have been out of this school already. But to have the chance to keep looking at this man, that was a motivation for you to at least pass.
The silence all around pulled you out of your thoughts. Upon realising that everyone was staring your direction, you turned your head up. There he was, looking at you. Patiently waiting for your answer to the question he had previously asked.
After a few seconds, which felt like eternity, he gave you a smile and moved on to get the answer from someone else. You started blushing from the embarrasment. Your friend sitting next to you noticed and playfully hit you with her elbow, while raising a brow at you. She obviously knew about this little crush and always made jokes about how the two of you should just get a room already. You always rolled your eyes, knowing deep down thats what you wish for.
The next round of questions started and you saw your teacher going down the line, all of your classmates answering one by one. When you knew it would be your turn next, your heart began racing. You were quickly counting through the questions, to see which you would have to answer, so you wouldn't embarass yourself even more.
„Signorina Y/L/N, domanda numero 6, perfavore.“
He set his hand on the table in front of you, supporting his body weight as he was leaning a little bit. Tattoos peaking from under his rolled sleeves, you had to push away the sinful thoughts once again.
You looked up at him, trying not to stumble over your words.
„Domanda numero 6? La ri-risposta corrette è b: il fiume,“ you quickly got out of yourself, while feeling the sweat dripping down your body.
„Corretta, not corrette, Y/N, otherwise, good enough,“ he switched to english now, and you earned yourself another sweet smile from him. You were glad that you finally got something right but also that the torture was almost to be over for another week or so.
After Y/F/N answered her question, he decided to finish the lesson, as an hour and half already passed.
„Alright guys, let's wrap it up. You dont get any homework, as there is going to be the test I already told you about next week, so you better study hard,“ he paused, as everyone started getting up from their chairs already, making a lot of noise as they were packing up their belongings.
„And...,“ he raised his voice.
„...don't forget to lend the book Compiti Italiani 2, it can seriously help you.“ He finished the class by picking all of his books up, walking towards the door. He let everyone pass through, before walking out of the class himself.
You and Y/F/N said your goodbyes and each went different ways. Yours lead to the library.
Your teacher semeed to be following the same path.
//
Upon arriving to the library door, you noticed that it seemed to be closed. You couldn't see people moving inside, not even the librarian. It seemed quite unusual that the library would be closed at this time, it was usually opened everyday until 18:00. It was barely 16:00.
You shook the handle and checked for the opening hours sign, just to be sure.
The sign was showing exactly what you thought.
It was still closed though.
You weren't happy about the situation but there was nothing you could do, so you decided to go home. As you turned away, you started rambling through your tote bag. It was always full of things and you could never find your wireless headphones. You were slowly walking, crunched to the side, still picking on random things, to find the plastic box. As you took a few more steps, you noticed a figure in front of you.
Upon turning your head up, you noticed your handsome italian professor standing there. He was playing with a set of keys, turning them at their hoop around his fingers.
„Exemplary student, I see. Running to borrow the book I mentioned straight after the class,“
He smiled, while slowly walking towards you. Your heart started pounding, but thanfully, he just passed you to get to the door.
„I didn't know you're in charge of the library, Mr. David. Where is Mrs. Andrews?“ you were geniuenly curious.
While trying to unlock the door, he turned his body halfway to face you.
„She is still in charge of the library, but I volunteered to take her place when she has to bring her daughter for a checkup at the doctor, which is every other week at this time. You know, I get credits for it and it's not that hard of a job,really.“
You almost forgot that he was just a student like you. The only difference is that he was currently working on his Doctorate degree and in order to achieve it, he had to teach some classes as well. Credits were definitely something good to have more of.
When he finally got the door unlocked, he made his way behind them. Holding them open with one hand, gesturing for you to come through with the other.
As you marched foward, you felt his eyes looking you up and down. While walking over the threshold, you heard his voice behind you.
„And outside of the class, it's Damiano for you.“
Did he really just suggest for you to call him by his first name?
You quickly gave him a smile while speeding your walk to get to the shelves, so you can look for the books you need and get the hell out of there.
//
Soon, a few more people started coming through the door. They were sitting down to study or simply trying to find the books they want. It was taking you surprisingly long time to get to the titles you were looking for to help with your school work, but you didnt want to ask your teacher, you would rather die on the spot.
You spent a good 10 minutes going slowly over the section of letter „C,“ but didnt see any copies of the Italian book left. Thinking your classmates already took all of them, you were slowly losing hope. You slid over to the frame on the right, moving on to find a book for your sociology finals.
Scanning the shelves with your eyes, looking for the letter „S,“ the dark figure appeared next to you once again.
„Need any help?“ he asked you generously.
Oh well, you didn't want to ask him at first. But since he was already standing there, you decided to give it a shot.
„Maybe.“
He started walking away from you, signaling you to also leave the cubicle made out of shelves.
„Well, maybe Compiti italiani is in a different section, you're not in the language department, signorina.“
You were following him to the other side of the library, but this comment made you pause for a split second and roll your eyes. He was following you to the cubicle in the furthest corner of the room. You really just wanted to get this over with and come back the next day, when the usual librarian would be back.
Then, Damiano, as he asked you to call him, walked between the two giant shelves and you kept following him. Stopping in front of the middle one, you started scanning the section of the letter C once again.
„Thank you, I can handle from now on.“
Something didn't seem right as he didn't leave after what you just told him. In fact, he got even closer. You didn't know if you were scared, purely annoyed or even a little bit aroused. You just barely got to notice that the books on the shelves were about history, when he turned you around in one swift movement. You dropped your bag on the ground in a response, hoping your glass water bottle didn't shatter.
He pinned you against one of the book cases, roughly holding your hands above your head.
„And maybe, I lied about the book being here,“ he smiled at you while intertwining his hands with yours. He started placing a few kisses on your neck, leaving you in complete state of shock.
„What is going on?“ you were trying to get an answer while holding in a moan.
„Shhhh, we're in a library, remember?“ he commented between the kisses. „a bad student like you needs to be put in her place.“
You were fighting the urge that was growing inside of you and weakly tried to push him off. He looked at you, worried, waiting for explanation.
„So you do this with all of the students who get bad marks in your classes?“
„No, just the ones who eyefuck me basically every lesson. C'mon, michetta, you are so desperate for me, I can see it.“
You were practically melting at his words. As pinky blush started appearing on your face, you were trembling. Of course, you wanted him, you would give up anything to have this man fuck you. But in this situation, you were a bit confused.
As the adrenaline kicked in, you reached out your shaking hands and pulled him back to you by his arms. He had this suggestive smile on his face and you knew very well that he had unspeakable intentions. You reached your neck up and got your mouth close to his ear.
„Well then, fuck some of the italian into me, Damiano.“
„Volentieri“ he winked at you and finally pressed his mouth against yours. You kissed back as one of your hands made its way out of his grip. It trailed into the back of his head, carefully caressing his hair. You finally had the chance to fully give in and pushed your tongue even further into his mouth.
Damiano started leaving little trail of kisses from your mouth, traveling down your cheeks and chin. Finding his way to your neck again, he was bitting on little bits of your skin, which made a moan escape your mouth involuntarily. He quickly put a hand over your mouth, so students in the front wouldnt hear you.
He hiked one of your leg sup to his torso, which made you automatically wrap it around him. Sliding his hand up your thigh, he found his way towards your underwear. He brushed his fingertips right between the outline of your labia, feeling the increasing wetness in your panties. You felt a little laugh against your neck.
„Do you leave my class this wet every week? Or is it just the thought of me fucking you in a place we shouldn't that has gotten you so excited?“ he looked deep into your eyes while still caressing you through the soaking fabric. Not giving you time to respond, he leaned in to slip his tongue into your mouth once again. He let go of your leg and his hand trailed up to the hem of your panties, pulling them down. He bent over, taking them off completely and putting them in the pocket of his blazer afterwards.
„We'll see if you're good enough of a girl to get them back after this,“ he said with a hint of arrogance in his tone.
This got you so worked up, making you want to show how well you can behave for him. You grabbed the man by his shoulder, turning him around, so he's the one leaning against the book casing. Almost smashing him against it, he let out a silent suggestive grin. It seemed like he could read your mind, knowing about your plans. You dropped to your knees in front of him, trying not to lose any eye contact. Reaching hands to his belt, you tried to unbuckle it fast so you could get what you wanted. Unfortunately, the belt had no intention of coming undone. Upon seeing you struggle, Damiano finally put you out of your misery by helping you.
Once the brown belt around his pants and his zipper were open, you pulled them down to his ankles. This action left you with his intense boner showing right through his boxers in front of your face. It has taken you back to the many nights you imagined getting this view. Kneeling in front of the man built finer than any renaissance building in Rome. Ready to take him all in, it really felt like you're dreaming.
His boxers finally joined the pants down at his feet and you were left with a view that you never had before. He wasn't the biggest in the world, but still way bigger youve ever seen in your life. For a second, you were worried if you would even be able to fit him all in your mouth.
But what better way to find out than give it a try, right?
The question followed your worries and you dived straight in. You gave him a last good look up, seeing him waiting in anticipation. Grabbing his lenght with your right hand, you immediately realised you needed some kind of lubrication. You spat right on his tip and smeared it all over, which quickly turned into giving him slow strokes. This has already earned you an expression from him, being interested in what youll do next. You started picking up the pace, trying hard not to make the sloppy sound. Your hand was sliding up and down, getting faster and you were joyfully looking at his face in pure bliss. You decided to give him a little bit more of a show and quickly switched the hand for your mouth.
„Cazzo.“
Going at the same tempo as before finally got a moan out of him that he was struggling to hold in for so long. Hearing him speak in italian had some kind of effect on you and you started to feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter. You were speeding up, jerking your lips around his cock as fast as you could. Damiano was definitely enjoying it, fighting himself not to be any louder. You wanted to finally have him inside of you, so you took a next step.
Stopping this activity, you reached for your bag that you previously dropped onto the ground. After ramaging through all of your belongings, you found the condom you have thrown in a few months ago „just in case.“
„Always prepared to get fucked but rarely for an italian exam, I see,“ he smiled at you.
„You know, I'm naturally talented at the first option. The second one? Not so much.“
You took the condom out of it's wrapper and carefully rolled it out on his cock. When you got up from the ground, you immediately found yourself pressed against the wall once again. Damiano wasted no time, passionately kissing you. This time, he wrapped the leg around his core himself.
„Let's see if youre right about that, bella.“
He roughly pushed himself into you, which made some of the shelves shake. There was no adjusting period, he was pounding you at the speed of light. This tempo made you light headed, you were rolling your eyes back. There was clearly sweating rolling down his face, which made you aroused even more. You still couldnt believe this was happening but tried to be present in the time and place. You were whinning, practically melting into his body as he was fucking you. He reached his hand to shut your mouth once again.
„How I wish you could scream my name right now, begging me to fuck you harder. Unfortunately, bad girls like you have to be quiet because they can't learn their fucking lesson.“
In one swift movement, he turned you around, forcing you to bend over. With one of his hands still on your mouth and the other hiking your skirt up, he entered you from behind. You let out a muffled moan against his palm, as you felt him deep inside of you. Your walls clenching around his cock made him seem short of breath. He was pounding you while being completely pressed against you. You were slowly losing yourself to him.
He moved the hand from your back to your cunt. Without warning, he started rubbing your clit fast, matching the speed of his thrusts. You were being tipped over the edge and it seemed like he knew that you were getting close.
„Sborra per me, puttana,“ he growled at you in italian. Although you didn't understand, it was the last push you needed. This killer combination made you come undone with another muffled cry.
You felt a few more thrusts until he came himself, his whole body shaking into you.
When you were both done, you stayed in your place for a minute, just catching your breath and processing whatever just happened. You were absolutely in bliss after this scenario, which seemed like cropped out of your pornsite search history. It has definitely taught you a lesson or two, but you maybe didnt want to admit it to him.
You heard his pants buckled behind you, so you finally decided to face him. He still looked great, if not better, with messy hair and his shirt all creased up.
„Well, you definetely got a part of italian fucked into you. Was that enough for you to start studying for my lessons or do you want to fail, so you can keep on salivating in my classes?“
„I admit, it made me rethink my past decisions, but also if I wasn't bad at learning foreign languages, I wouldn't have a gorgeous italian man fucking me in the back of a library, so I guess it was fine after all.“
You grinned at him, sticking your tongue out.
He pulled you closer to him by your waist, passionately kissing you one more time.
„What if I keep fucking you, maybe in my place or yours, and we might get to some tutoring in between, hm?“ he raised an eyebrow suggestively.
„Sounds like a deal to me.“
You quickly collected yourself, grabbing your bag off the ground, straightening your skirt down. Soon you realised that you had no underwear on.
„Do I get my panties back, please?“ you looked to Damiano one more time.
He just giggled and shook his head.
„When you pass my class, at least with the D mark, you can have your underwear back.“
He immediately walked off, heading towards the front of the library. You also got out of the cubicle, burning up with embarrasment. You really didn't want anyone to think youre sleeping your way to a better grade. On the other hand, you were still so happy about what just happened that you didnt want to care about other people.
Seemingly, there were only two students left, both with headphones on. Looked like film majors editing their final projects so there was a low chance they heard anything.
You made your way to the door, as Damiano was already behind the librarians desk. As you were about to pass through, he jogged around the table to quickly get to you.
„Not even saying goodbye to your teacher? That is rude,Y/N“ he frowned his face at you. You playfully hit him into his arm.
„Well, Mr. David, you didn't seem to care about 'rude' when you were fucking one of your students in the school building, but let's talk about that later, shall we?“
He bit his tongue and smiled at you. After that, he handed you a piece of paper with his number and adress on it. It also said „TUTORING“ on top, which made you smile as well.
You nodded your head and waved to him, knowing you couldn't kiss him goodbye, as there were already two sets of eyes on you. You just dissapeared through the door frame and went your own way.
Replaying of the scene that just occured in the library didn't stop in your head until you fell asleep, thinking about the right time to call him about your first tutoring session.
#maneskin#måneskin#damiano david#maneskin smut#maneskin fic#maneskin fanfiction#damiano david smut#damiano david fanfiction#maneskin imagine#damiano david fic#professor au!
357 notes
·
View notes
Text
Damiano shifted nervously on his feet, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. He had been with his boyfriend — Avi — for several months now, and their relationship had been nothing short of amazing. In such a relatively short time, the two of them had already moved in with one another, and started a new life — shared countless moments of tenderness, passion, and unconditional support, in ways that he’d never experienced before. It was all going so perfectly… but there was a creeping worry that Dami just couldn't shake off — a lingering desire that he needed to have met… one that had the potential to ruin everything.
His dilemma began several years ago — on one random night, after a wonderful date, his crazy ex-girlfriend showed his belly button some unexpected attention. Without warning, she plunged her tongue into his shallow navel and began to molest it with a wonderful sloppiness. It was a spontaneous act of affection, and — without the opportunity to anticipate her seductive actions — Damiano was surprised by how much he had enjoyed it. His ex awakened a hidden pleasure within him… one that he had never known before. Since then, he found himself longing to feel that same sensation once again — his mind endlessly craving the touch of a warm, slimy tongue on his vulnerable navel.
Yesterday, as he lounged around in the house, the memory of that blissful moment lingered in his thoughts for hours. It had consumed him throughout the day, tormenting him with the guilt of wanting to ask his current boyfriend to perform such a strange, intimate favor. Damiano loved his boyfriend deeply… much more than he cared for his ex… and the last thing that he wanted was to jeopardize their blossoming relationship… but the desire burned within him like an eternal flame, urging him to take the leap of faith, and make his odd request.
Summoning up all of the courage that he could, Damiano finally found the appropriate words to vocalize his needs. He stood awkwardly at the side of the couch, his voice barely a whisper as he timidly suggested, "Um, hey... I'm not sure how to say this, but... there’s something I really want from you… and I’ve been wanting it for a while now. I’ve just been avoiding it for so long, and I can’t put it off anymore. Look, baby… I love you, and I don’t want to lose you… but, I have to ask. Would you, maybe... ever consider... licking my belly button sometime? I know it’s weird… but… please? I really want this.”
Silence hung heavy in the air as Avi — sat on the middle cushion — unsurprisingly, he looked a bit taken aback. He had always been open-minded and understanding, within reason, but this request was nothing short of unexpected. However, before Damiano could feel any more ashamed or guilty than he’d already been, Avi’s eyes softened, and a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Oh, Dami," he said gently, reaching out to cradle his stomach in his hands. "You don't have to feel guilty for voicing your needs. We all have our… desires… and it’s my job to help you explore yours.”
Relief and gratitude washed over Damiano, tears pricking at the edges of his eyes. He had been so terrified of rejection, afraid that his boyfriend would judge him or find his request to be repulsive, that he denied himself of achieving true pleasure for months. Instead of the negative judgement that he’d anticipated, he found understanding, acceptance, and love… a sweet relief.
With a newfound sense of understanding, Avi stood up from the couch and led him to their bedroom — pulling Damiano along by a single fingertip. In no time, they found themselves sitting in the ambience of the dimly lit room, their bed inviting them to surrender to their most intimate desires. He undressed Dami slowly as he rested on the mattress, caressing his flesh with the gentlest of touches, reassuring him that their home was a safe space for vulnerability, trust, and desire. Their connection deepened as he explored Damiano's stomach attentively, leaving no part untouched by his slow hands. As Damiano sat there, his heart racing with anticipation, Avi knelt down and positioned himself between his legs — his lips hovering just before the coveted belly button. “Lie down, Dami. Relax.”
Without hesitation, Avi’s tongue swept across the rim of Damiano's navel, sending shivers of pleasure throughout his body. Damiano gasped, his fingers clutching the sheets in silent ecstasy. He felt like a virgin again… so nervous and self-conscious. How did he taste? How was his smell? He hadn’t had the time to prepare himself beforehand. To close himself off to pleasure, and lose himself in his insecurity, would be such a waste… but to give in to the sensation and vocalize his joy would be too soon. Avi continued to explore, teasing and tantalizing him with each delicate lick. Damiano felt like he was floating, every inch of his being consumed by the overwhelming pleasure and love that enveloped him.
Time seemed to stand still as they reveled in the intimacy they had just discovered. It was an act that transcended the physical, reaffirming their connection on a deeper level. Damiano realized that it wasn't just about the belly button; it was about trust, vulnerability, and the boundless ways in which they could explore the depths of their love. As they lay in the aftermath of their encounter — tangled in each other's arms — Damiano whispered words of gratitude and apologized for his initial hesitations. Avi, with warmth in his eyes, assured him that there was no need for sorries. They had ventured into uncharted territory together, forging a bond that was stronger, more resilient, and infinitely more beautiful than ever before.
And so, after catching their breaths for a few minutes, the two men continued their journey of love, trust, and exploration — two souls forever intertwined in a realm where desires were met with open hearts and willing tongues. Damiano had found liberation in his confession, and the ecstasies that awaited them were beyond his wildest dreams.
#starry eyes#damiano david#damiano david belly/tummy#damiano david navel#quick write#damiano david smut
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
I wanna paint your face like you're my Mona Lisa
Pairings: Damiano David x fem!reader
Contents: Smut
Summary: Damiano takes you to see his new yacht
Words: ~1205
A/N: Forgive me if you come across any errors while reading. I hope you enjoy it 💙
Damiano tucks a strand of hair behind his ear and says, "Today, I'm taking you on a nighttime picnic."
"Nighttime picnic? Sounds cool!" you laugh.
Damiano grins, matching your excitement, and nods. "Exactly, amore mio. We'll be under the stars, and a picnic will be perfect."
"Hmmm, sounds intriguing. So, where are we heading?" you ask.
With a gentle kiss on your lips, Damiano replies, "Let's head to the marina. I've got something new and I'm excited to share."
And he takes the lead, pulling you by the hand toward the marina. It's not a long walk, so you stroll hand in hand, chatting about random stuff and playfully teasing each other along the way.
As you arrive at the marina, you both wander through its numerous alleys until Damiano stops and gazes at you with gleaming eyes.
"Okay, you've got a yacht, I can tell. Which one?" you inquire.
"Y/N"
"Hm?"
Damiano chuckles and points to a massive, stunning yacht.
"That's the name. 'Y/N in the sea with diamonds'," he announces proudly.
You burst into laughter at the yacht's name and the fact that your name is on it, but most of all, you're filled with love for Damiano for arranging this surprise. You take a step closer to him, closing any remaining distance, and plant a passionate kiss on his lips. He places both hands on your waist, intensifying the connection between you, and sending shivers down your spine. Your heart races as he pulls you closer, but as he breaks the kiss, he reveals.
"Let's hop in soon, I've been keeping this Yacht secret from you for weeks."
"Weeks ago?! I can't believe it!" you lightly push him, laughing playfully.
Damiano holds your hand, taking the opportunity to guide you into the yacht. It's magnificent; your heart races as you step inside the Yacht—it's like stepping into a movie set. The interior is sophisticated, adorned with muted tones and soft lighting, creating a welcoming atmosphere. The huge picture windows allow the sunset light to dance across the elegant hardwood floors.
"So, did you like it?" Damiano asks, his eyes filled with anticipation.
"Gattino... it's amazing!"
"Come here," he takes your hand and leads you to the deck.
The deck is utterly cozy, featuring a soft rug and cushions scattered on the floor. A basket filled with delicious treats sits nearby: fancy sandwiches, fresh fruit, and a selection of tempting sweets.
"You're a box of surprises, you know? Look at this place!" you exclaim, marveling at the setup.
You glance at Damiano, who's looking at you expectantly and happily—his beauty enhanced by the golden glow of the sunset. A gentle breeze envelops you, and everything intensifies as Damiano draws even closer, so close that your breaths intermingle. He whispers:
"I love you, Y/N. Nothing I can create in this world comes close to what you deserve."
"I already have everything I want, I have you loving me, and I love you," you express with a contented smile.
You resist the urge to jump on him and skip the whole snack part.
"I want to madly kiss you until I lose my breath."
Damiano holds your gaze and smirks. "You, my love, have no idea of the things I want to do to you right here, but come on, let's eat first." He takes your hand, and together, you walk to the soft pads on the floor of the yacht and sit down.
You find yourself comfortably nestled between his legs, leaning back against Damiano's chest. You both enjoy the delectable treats, savoring each bite while talking and laughing, basking in the joy of being together.
The sun has already set and the moon is massive, with its twin dancing in the sea, Damiano gets close to your ear and whispers:
"You look damn gorgeous in the moonlight, Y/N"
His heart races as he feels Damiano kissing your neck and caressing your face lightly, bringing his mouth to meet yours. You turn to face Damiano completely and straddle him, wrapping your legs around his waist, his arm wrapping around your waist and squeezing as the kiss intensifies.
You moan in between the kiss as you press yourself down and rock forward slowly, causing the perfect friction between the two of your sensitive parts. Your clit swells with pleasure as you feel how hard Damiano is.
He moves his hands from your waist to your hips and gives it a gentle squeeze, guiding the movements and setting a rhythm. The kiss between you is interrupted by a moan, and Damiano takes the opportunity to explore your neck even more with kisses, bites, and hickeys. You feel him getting even more aroused with the increased pace of the movements.
In a flash, he's got your ass and lying down on the comfy floor, his body on top of yours. His hands roam all over your body, causing a trail of excitement and goosebumps on your skin, which he has easy access to thanks to your dress.
"So wet for me..." he says, softly rubbing the right spot.
With his other hand of his, he holds one of your boobs and squeezes it.
"So delicious," he slides your panties down your legs with only one hand, "and mine." And he enters you.
His hips go all the way down and stop, he buries his face on your neck, and you can perfectly hear all his groans, even the quietest ones, just as he hears yours. He holds your thighs tightly.
Your hearts are pounding, as are your moans as Damiano's hips slide in and out of you faster, his balls hitting you with each thrust, his hands gripping you so firmly it makes you tingle.
You scream his name as you start to feel your legs shake.
"Come for me, Y/N," he says between moans in your ear.
You moan louder and stronger after hearing his voice asking you to come like that, and it's impossible to hold back the huge feeling that is about to explode.
And it comes, as soon as you feel it penetrates you as much as it can, gushing all the pleasure it feels for you inside you, spurt after spurt.
He collapses on top of you, his hands slightly loosening their grip on your thighs. You look at him, his eyes still filled with desire and lust.
You hook your legs around him and spin around on top of him, sitting right on his lap.
"You're even more irresistible with the moonlight illuminating you," he says, lifting both hands and massaging your boobs.
You smile, wiggling slightly with his cock inside you.
"Let's not end this anytime soon then, because I can say the same for you."
And so you spend the night, on Y/N in the Sea with Diamonds, christening every corner of it with pleasure.
"You're even more irresistible with the moonlight illuminating you," he says, lifting both hands and massaging your boobs.
You smile, wiggling slightly your hips with his cock inside you.
"Let's not end this anytime soon then, because I can say the same for you."
And so you spend the night, on Y/N in the Sea with Diamonds, christening every corner of it with pleasure.
#må#måneskin#damiano david#damiano måneskin#damiano david x reader#damiano david smut#damiano david x you#damiano david fic#måneskin imagine
182 notes
·
View notes
Note
Imagine being annoyed with damiano’s new haircut because there’s nothing to tug on while he goes down on you and he just smirks every time you pout
Aww I love this!
At first you love it because the short cut gives you the best access to give him the head scratches that he loves, but then once he starts kissing down your body and starts licking your clit and all you want to do is tug him closer ... there's nothing to hold on to. He hears you whimper and looks up to see you pouting at him and asks what's wrong. When you tell him you miss tugging on his hair he just smirks and shakes his head, getting back to work and guiding your hand to the back of his head anyway.
#maneskin smut#maneskin x reader#damiano david smut#damiano david x reader#måneskin smut#måneskin x reader#damiano david#maneskin#måneskin#asks#blurbs
366 notes
·
View notes
Text
Puppet - A Måneskin Chapter Story
Updated every Monday at 8pm CET! (And sometimes even more!)
Summary: All you were hoping for when you moved in with the band for the summer was some relaxation, a little fun and hopefully as little awkwardness as possible. But then a very personal detail about your life slips out and suddenly you're getting a lot more than you bargained for.
Content: Smut, a bit of fluff, more smut
Join the taglist here!
~~~
Chapters
Lesson One: It's all about anticipation.
Lesson Two: Talk about it.
Lesson Three: Self-love.
Lesson Four: Take matters into your own hands.
Lesson Five: Use your words.
Lesson Six: The choice is yours.
Lesson Seven: Talking about it is half the fun.
Lesson Eight: Feel the buzz.
Lesson Nine: Find the rhythm
Lesson Ten: Tie him down.
Lesson Eleven: Let them hear.
Lesson Twelve: Watch and learn.
Lesson Thirteen: Safewords are made to be used.
Lesson Fourteen: Turn your brain off.
Lesson Fifteen: It's all about unconventional problem-solving.
Lesson Sixteen: A taste of pain.
Lesson Seventeen: Learn to love.
Lesson Eighteen: Different ways to love.
Epilogue
#puppet#maneskin smut#maneskin fiction#damiano david fiction#damiano david smut#victoria de angelist fiction#victoria de angelis smut#thomas raggi fiction#thomas raggi smut#ethan torchio smut#ethan torchio fiction#mywriting
471 notes
·
View notes
Text
Vestito come un incubo
#damiano måneskin#damiano david smut#thomas raggi#damiano david#victoria de angelis#vic de angelis#andy biersack imagine#andy biersack#andy biersack fanfiction#andy black#itsmealaiah
43 notes
·
View notes
Text
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
#maneskin#måneskin#må#damiano david#damiano#damiano maneskin#maneskin damiano#damiano david x reader#damiano david smut#damiano david imagine#damiano david fanfiction#alpha/beta/omega headcanon#alpha/beta/omega au#alpha beta omega#alpha omega#omegaverse#omega reader#maneskin fanfiction#alpha!damiano
114 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
vanilla-blessing
Vanilla♡Blessing Unofficial Official Blog
tmhmlife-blog
The Millennial’s Health Manual
theblogarticle
Untitled
alunasky-blog
Alunasky
lorenacajes
Lorena Cajes