#maneskin!reader

[writersblockiskillingme]

Jealousy Game | Damiano David

Pairing: Damiano David x reader (Måneskin!reader)

Summary: You were ready for a lot of things, but you weren't ready for a woman at the competition you were attending to flirt with your secret boyfriend.

Warning/s: jealously, dark side of the fame (kind of), possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Just as promised here is another Damiano fic, it would have been published a lot earlier, but school is kicking my ass right now. Feel free to send requests and I'll gladly do them!! Enjoy!

You were NOT a jealous person. Even though some think that you do have a reason to be jealous. However, you weren't. It was just in your nature that you don't get jealous easily. You trusted Damiano 100% and nothing was ever going to change that.

But, you did feel like you started to doubt yourself considering the moment you were in right about now.

You were second singer of the bend Måneskin. Which means that you were always sholder to sholder with attractive frontman. At the top of it, your 3 year relationship was a complete secret.

You could still remember your excitement when you found out that you were about to compete in a Eurovision song contest. You and your band mates were so happy you felt like you were about to explode from so much excitement. Damiano and you both knew that you still wanted to keep it private as long as you could, and you both enjoyed it so much. So you didn't mention it in the interviews and in front of the cameras in general. And it truly was great.

You were having fun there. You were doing what you all loved the most, singing and playing songs and performing. You were positive that you had a big chance to maybe actually win this contest. However, it still didn't matter much. I mean sure, it would be awesome if you actually won Eurovision, but even if you don't you felt like it would be okay. Måneskin has come so far and you were extremely proud of what you guys accomplished. You knew that you were good.

But, what you didn't know or expect was one of your fellow contesters to fall in love with your handsome frontman and you knew that you couldn't really blame her. Damiano was sure something. Again, you didn't think of yourself as a very jealous person. Why? Because you did everything to make sure that you are a good girlfriend, a girlfriend Damiano deserves. Damiano did the same thing, too. You just didn't want to feel jealous because you always thought that jealously means that you are insecure about something. Plus, you didn't want to be that kind of a girlfriend and you truly weren't. Presides, Damiano didn't deserve that.

You could say that you just truly didn't expect it. At first, it started out as Sanja saying that Måneskin was her favorite. Then she said that Damiano was her favorite member of the band. Again, nothing wrong about that, nothing to be jealous of, not a thing out of what she said in these moments didn't step over the line. It was funny to you, actually. You were truly fine with it. You were quite happy when she said that you guys were her favorite. It flattered you. You really liked her and her girls, too. You always said that they had a lot of chance to win just like you did.

But then the tables slowly started to turn. Sanja started to constantly literally drool over him. She was constantly throwing compliments at him, but her compliments were not towards the band in general or about Damiano in general. She didn't compliment him in a way when she was saying about how amazing his voice truly was or about how talented he was or how creative he was. No. She was complimenting him about how hot and borderline sexy he looks and how his Italian accent was truly to hot too handle. And that would be fine for a few reasons.

First off, he truly was hot and his voice was too hot to handle, but to you it was more than that. He was a beautiful soul and you appreciated that every day more and more.

Second off, it was okay for her to comment this, but not when it made somebody uncomfortable. Presides, she slowly started to step over the line when she started to compliment his looks in a way that she maybe shouldn't have.

From that point on, she started to comment how she should marry him because she loves him oh so much and that kind of stuff and she was saying that in a live interview. In fact, almost the entire interview with her and the girls contained like 10% about their music, 10% about Eurovision and 80% was just Sanja pinning after Damiano. Presides, you could clearly see how she looks at him during your rehearsals. She looked at him like she was gonna jump on him at any given moment. Also, something new happened a few days after that interview.

You were still trying to catch your breath as you snuggled deeper into the silk sheets that were placed on the bed of Damiano and yours hotel room. Your hair was all messed up, sprawled on the pillow, but you didn't care about that at the moment. Damiano was taking a shower, he left a few minutes ago after you said that you were going to join him in a few minutes. And so, with one more passionate kiss you had to part away. You turned around slowly groaning softly from the sleepiness that was slowly, but surely creeping in. You took your phone in your hand and you went to Instagram.

The first thing you saw was Sanja's new Instagram story. You just couldn't help yourself so you clicked on it. You found yourself face to face with the photo of Damiano and Sanja in a friendly hug. At least it was friendly on Dami's side. On the photo she wrote "Next step" followed by an engagement ring. You truly felt sick in your stomach. You knew that this was just a friendly photo (at least on one part) and another memory, but you couldn't help, but feel this strange feeling creeping in.

You were roughly pulled away from your train of thoughts when you felt the other side of the bed dip from the weight and a strong tattoo covered arms of your beloved wrapping you up in a warm and safe embrace. Somehow, Damiano immediately noticed the change in your behavior.

"Are you okay, amore?" He asked her softly as he learned over her slightly in hope to even catch a glimpse of her face. He didn't succeed.

"I'm fine. Don't worry." Oh what a lier you are. You were anything but fine and Damiano really should be worried.

"Amore, you know that you can't lie to me, right?" He asked you. "I mean, you can, but I will see right through you." You hated to admit it, but in this moment you adored his ability to see through your little white lies. You slowly turned around to face him. He lifted his arm up giving you enough space so you could slowly make yourself comfortable in his hold. After you did so, Damiano softly cherished your breathtaking beauty as he slowly lifted your head up with his thumb so you would finally look at him.

"What's wrong?" And you came crushing down.

"Well, all this time Sanja was pinning after you and I didn't mind it at first. I didn't care about her little compliments about you. But then she started to compliment you in a more heated way and she was practically begging you to marry her already and I just..." You paused for a bit, exhausted about everything. Damiano kept quiet, waiting for you to finish. "I just got a bit jealous, I guess. You know I'm not a jealous type and I didn't want to say anything because I felt like a bad girlfriend and you don't deserve that."

You felt a few tears fun down your cheeks as you spilled your thoughts and your heart and your soul to the man you loved the most. Damiano was borderline shocked and both of you were quite for a bit. Finally he spoke up as he brushed away your tears.

"You are my everything, amore. You are my inspiration, you are my muse. You are my motive for everything I do and you are my heart and my soul and my whole being. You are my life." He confessed quietly, whispering away in the darkness of your shared hotel room.

"You are a fire in my heart and a fresh breath of air for my lungs. You are more addictive then the hardest drugs. But most importantly, you are my one and only greatest love. And yes, she was crossing a line with that one, I was honestly getting uncomfortable, too. So no. You are NOT a bad girlfriend."

For the rest of the evening you were just enjoying each other in many different ways. At that moment, for the rest of your life, you were reassured that he was your only one and to him you were the only one, too.

"I love you more than the life itself and nobody is ever going to change that."

->

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TAGLIST

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#maneskin fanfiction #maneskin x reader #damiano david #damiano david x reader #imagine #maneskin #maneskin imagine #x reader #maneskin!reader #damiano david x you #damiano maneskin #damiano david imagine

[baddestbittyontheblock]

måneskin fic recs

you are responsible for the content you consume‼️

✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚

✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

måneskin x reader: blurbs+headcannons+fics

୨୧ 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬

୨୧ 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧

୨୧ a headcanon with må with you being a successful model

-they're wearing earbuds, blasting music into their ears when they remember the they left their phone charger in the bathroom. they don't know you're showering and can't hear you over the music...

୨୧ headcanons with må x fashiondesigner!reader

୨୧ a valentine’s surprise | SMUT, orgy, oral sex, anal play, double penetration, food play, spit play, alcohol  

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

୨୧ Gettin’ Frisky With The Måneskin Members  | explicit content, gender neutral reader, switch!damiano, hard domme!victoria, vanilla!thomas, sub!ethan, freaky stuff, toys and s/m, oral (both ways), degradation, spit, pain play, brat taming, bondage, sinning cuz rock’n’roll never dies

୨୧ our favourite band with an S/O with bad menstrual periods

| talk abt periods, so dyphoria warning (we'll get back on the totally GN shit tmrw, just filling requests rn), lil bit of swearing and NSFW on Ethan

୨୧ how the members of Måneskin confess their feelings for you måneskin x gn!reader

victoria de angelis

·。🍓 my sweet valentine vic de angelis x fem! reader | Fluff

-Victoria's first Valentine's day celebrating with you is a bit chaotic but turns out better than expected.

·。🍓 date night vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut, fingering, oral (female receiving) and bdsm dynamics

-you and vic go on a date and it ends with fun at the hotel

·。🍓 hush, hush, cucciola. vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut

-you’re were asked to come over and help to calm Vic down after another disagreement during creating new song, and you find just the way to make her happy and peaceful again

·。🍓 pillow talk vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut

-your night trip to the kitchen gets interrupted by a strange noise, the results of your investigation are more pleasant then you could expect.

·。🍓 long stormy night damiano x fem!reader x vic | SMUT!!!, degradation, corruption kink, wax play, knife play, blood play, spanking, bit of fear play, unprotected sex, it’s just wild ok, i wanted to treat y/n

-It’s a last day of your small, a bit disappointing  gateway trip. The big storm is approaching, yet your evening takes an interesting turn when you bump into two hot Italians in the hotel bar

·。🍓 cold breeze, hot cheeks vic de angelis x fem! reader | angst, fluff 

-a rather cold October makes your blood boil as you and Vic attend Ethan's birthday party

·。🍓 i think I wanna hold you, but I'm not sure i'm allowed

vic de angelis x fem! reader | angst with tiny hint of smut

·。🍓 I'll show the  lovin' that you'll never get from a man. vic de angelis x fem! reader | angst, fluff, smut

-your friends finally meet your boyfriend, and even though nothing goes according to the plan, your night ends up being better than you could hope for, thanks to Vic

·。🍓 sweat and good grips vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut

·。🍓 the one with victoria’s boobs. victoria x gn!reader | fluff

-Victoria needs help taping her boobs for an upcoming performance. You get more than you bargained for.

·。🍓 the one where victoria wants to watch victoria x fem!reader x ethan | smut

·。🍓 “OPEN YOUR MOUTH.” victoria x gn!reader | soft smut

-along the lines of The one where victoria is patient.

·。🍓 “YEAH, WELL, IF YOU WEREN’T SO DRUNK MAYBE I WOULD.” vic de angelis x fem! reader

·。🍓 “I KNOW YOU CAN BE LOUDER THAN THAT.” vic de angelis x fem! reader

·。🍓 “GIVE ME ATTENTION.” vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut

·。🍓 say you'll see me again even if it's just in your wildest dreams vic de angelis xfem!reader | fluff, smut

-You're an up-and-coming actress, and Vic's best friend since high school. You have been friends and in love with each other for as long as you can remember. So when you have the chance to be together, it's magical.

·。🍓 baby said vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut

-you've been on a few dates with Victoria and you think things are going really well. You just wish you had known where the night was going beforehand- maybe you would have picked a table with longer tablecloths.

·。🍓 latenight devil vic de angelis x fem! reader

-victoria covers for you after you sneak backstage ahead of a Måneskin gig & invites you into her dressing room for an unusual encounter

·。🍓 forgive me father vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut, basically porn

·。🍓 the ocean's daughter swearing, alcohol consumption, drowning as a metaphor, smut

-while on holiday in italy, an encounter derails your life enough to make you pack up on a whim and move to the very city in which you first saw her — the ocean's daughter.

·。🍓 vic blurb

-doing domestic stuff with Victoria

·。🍓 a threesome with victoria and damiano! damiano x fem!reader x vic | smut

-reader is victoria’s partner and starts to develop a certain ‘obsession’ for dami, until vic decides to fix it.

·。🍓 vic de angelis fic victoria de angelis x fem!reader

-y/n is the other female member of the band, who has had feelings for vic for a while now, but was too nervous to say anything. one night after a concert in new york changes that after the bassist overhears a conversation between damiano and y/n.

·。🍓 thorns victoria de angelis x fem!reader | Mentions of smoking. Mentions of panic. Swearing.

-victoria meets her ex-girlfriend (Ava). The unplanned “date” upsets her and she decides to drink and smoke to cope. When she wakes up in the morning her best friend Y/N (who she also happens to have a crush on) is there to try and reason with her. 

·。🍓 lucid victoria de angelis x fem!reader

-It started with a spilled drink and ended with a clumsy kiss on the dance floor. A night out with friends takes an unexpected turn when you bump into the one person that's been on your mind for the better part of a year- the same stranger who stole both your chapstick and your heart.

·。🍓 nightmares victoria de angelis x fem!reader | A description of a nightmare. Other than that all is fluff and comfort.

-When Y/N has a terrifying nightmare and wakes up screaming, Victoria is there to comfort her.

·。🍓 kisses and cake vic de angelis x reader | very fluffy, a little spicy

·。🍓 vic blurb vic de angelis x reader

-being in a punk band and having vic feature in a show (you know like thomas recently did with starcrawler) and her doing her scissoring thing on top of me and then when she extends and after extending a hand to help me up and pulling me into a very gay gay gay kiss smearing her lipstick on my lipstick and leaving a big lipstick stain on my cheek as well

·。🍓 birthday wish victoria de angelis x fem!reader | smut

-little birthday blurb

·。🍓 church crush vic de angelis x reader | kinky as kink abba; innocent/corruption kink, and idk, sacrilege?

-good girl!reader having a massive obsession on a not-so-good girl from her church.

·。🍓 proficiency test victoria de angelis x gn!reader | a bit of swearing + one (1) explicit and one (1) implicit mention of sex + i'm very much projecting (who doesn't) + shitty german

-vic decides to help you study. chaos ensues.

·。🍓 coming home victoria de angelis x fem!reader

-vic has had a long day but coming home to you lifts the uneasiness from her shoulders and she vocalizes just how lucky she feels that you are in her life.

·。🍓 because of you idiot! victoria de angelis x gn!reader | angst(I guess), romantic fluff

-Victoria suddenly comes distance, and you try to find out why.

·。🍓 fluffy blurb vic de angelis x reader

-(it's something about getting matching tattoos with vic)

·。🍓 fuffly/smut with victoria victoria de angelis x fem!reader

-fluffy morning/half smut with victoria. nipples playing.

·。🍓 your camera roll while dating vic vic de angelis x reader | fluff, smut

·。🍓 knowing your worth vic x fem/gn! reader | hurt, comfort

-Vic is there for you after a conflict with your parents.

·。🍓 the first happiest birthday vic de angelis x reader | fluff

·。🍓 crawling back to you vic de angelis x reader

-Vic once again finds her way back to you.

·。🍓 one of a kind vic de angelis x reader | fluff, mentions of sex

-Vic finds out just how rich the feeling of love can be.

·。🍓 “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretend that it’s you!” vic de angelis x reader | fluff, angst

·。🍓 pt 2 hospital vic fic. vic de angelis x reader

·。🍓 “everything before the word ‘but’ is horseshit.” vic de angelis x reader | smut

·。🍓 the one where victoria is patient. victoria de angelis x fem!reader | smut

-you've been with Victoria for half a year. Maybe it's about time you pushed your fears away.

·。🍓 “Yeah, well, if you weren’t so drunk maybe I would.” vic de angelis x reader | fluff

·。🍓 “Give me attention.” vic de angelis x reader | smut

·。🍓 “We’re in public, you know.” vic de angelis x reader | fluff

·。🍓 “Wait, don’t pull away… Not yet.” vic de angelis x reader | fluff

·。🍓 "Take off your clothes, but leave the heels on." vic de angelis x reader | fluff

·。🍓 vic fic vic de angelis x reader

-A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party

·。🍓 vic blurb vic de angelis x reader

-Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead.

·。🍓 l'amore è più forte di ogni segreto: Part 1. victoria de angelis x fem!reader | angst, swearing, bad google translate translations, overuse of italics, mention of someone called ‘A’ - Damiano’s girlfriend

-unbeknownst to you both, paparazzi photograph you and Victoria while on your way back from a date night. When you find out in the morning, the two of you have very different ideas of how to handle the situation.

·。🍓 l'amore è più forte di ogni segreto - Part 2. victoria de angelis x fem!reader | angst, swearing, bad google translate translations, overuse of italics.

·。🍓 k is for kisses vic de angelis x reader

-You and your girlfriend, Victoria, both like to tease each other. Kisses ensue.

·。🍓 peculiar and beautiful victoria de angelis x gn!reader | angsty but also fluffy

-reader finds themself in a emotional rut. A few comments online, the constant youtube recommendations on how to be “perfect” have been making them feel some type of way, hiding away from the one person that can help them; Victoria

·。🍓 amalfi nights victoria de angelis x fem!reader | smut, pretty vanilla, softdom!vic, servicetop!vic, praise, kind of fluffy smut

-reader and victoria are for vacation in Amalfi. After a candle-lit dinner at the restaurant, after a long day of swimming and sunbathing, victoria just wants to show you her love.

·。🍓 afterglow victoria de angelis x gn!reader | mentions of sex

-reader meets victoria while traveling with friends. The two create a lovely summer fling and reader can not help but bask in the afterglow of victorias influence hoping to encounter her again.

·。🍓 homesick vic de angelis x reader | tw sickness, vomitting

-vic and the reader being on a long vacation together. One night the reader wakes up homesick and ends up being sick in the toilet, trying to be as quiet as they can not to worry vic too much. To no use, of course, as vic wakes up alarmed by the sounds of someone being ill in the bathroom and then goes to comfort the sick, guilty, crying reader?

·。🍓 vic fic vic de angelis x reader

-An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

damiano david

✧*: i want to dance on your body damiano david x fem!reader | smut 

-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.

✧*: i'm gonna fly straight to you damiano david x fem!reader | fluff

-you and Damiano are cuddled up in bed, brainstorming epic future adventures together.

✧*: i wanna paint your face like you're my Mona Lisa. damiano david x fem!reader | smut

-damiano takes you to see his new yacht

✧*: long stormy night damiano x fem!reader x vic | SMUT!!!, degradation, corruption kink, wax play, knife play, blood play, spanking, bit of fear play, unprotected sex, it’s just wild ok, i wanted to treat y/n

-It’s a last day of your small, a bit disappointing  gateway trip. The big storm is approaching, yet your evening takes an interesting turn when you bump into two hot Italians in the hotel bar

✧*: overthinking damiano david x fem!reader | swearing, alcohol, smoking, smut related things in general

-Your relationship with Damiano is going through a crisis and some jealousy. All becomes clear after a filed party and a steamy night. There is a bit sad, angsty beginning, smut in the middle and a bit of fluff in the end. So, we have the whole package.

✧*: welcome home damiano david x fem!reader | surprisingly fluffy but also smut

-after a long week all you need is a loving touch of your currently absent boyfriend. Luckily in the morning there is a very handsome surprise waiting for you, and this allows you to start your day in best way you could possibly imagine

✧*: 300,000 hearts damiano david x fem!girlfriend!reader

-where damiano sings a song about you he wrote in highschool, to a full arena

ethan torchio

ᑦ( •ᴥ• )ᐣ blush ethan torchio x reader | pure fluff

-a blurb of Ethan meeting his new makeup artist who's really kind and bubbly and he instantly gets a crush on them?

ᑦ( •ᴥ• )ᐣ a night in paris ethan torchio x fem!reader | smut+swearing

-you went on a tour with the band and Ethan enjoyed Paris the most. Having your boyfriend all happy and excited turned out to be better then you expected.

ᑦ( •ᴥ• )ᐣ "The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused, is making me lose my mind." ethan torchio x fem!reader | smut

-If acting unwise get's you places, maybe you're just pushing it to be on your knees.

thomas raggi

❤︎ ❥ "We passed 'just friends' about 20 fucks ago." thomas raggi x reader | angst, fluff, smut

❤︎ ❥ sanremo. thomas raggi x gn!reader | swearing, slightly sugggestive

-ever the supportive boyfriend, thomas indulges you in a sanremo 2023 watch party.

#maneskin x reader #maneskin #måneskin #måneskin x reader #måneskin imagine #maneskin imagine #vic de angelis x reader #vic de angelis #damiano david #damiano david x reader #ethan torchio #ethan torchio x reader #thomas raggi #thomas raggi x reader #smut #maneskin smut #fic recs

[maraudersmyloves]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Pairing: James Potter x rockstar!reader

Warnings: The reader is a celebrity flirting with a fan so some power dynamic stuff

Word count: 1.3 k

Disclaimer 1: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!!

Songs in this: Honey (are u coming?) by Maneskin

"Oh God". :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Previous part

You don't think you'll ever get used to the feeling that washes over you the hour before going on stage. It's a weird mix of calm and chaos that's so very distinct to only this Situation. It's doing last sound and outfit checks while panicking trying to find your eyeliner because you all insisted on doing your own make-up and hair. It's smoking a blunt while Dorcas is running around searching for a sticker she wants to put on her microphone before the show. It's hearing the fans get louder in front of the stage and imagining what kind of signs they'll have prepared while trying to get Regulus' earring in. It's Evan and Barty screaming at each other because Evan is sure Barty stole his drumsticks while Pandora and Dorcas try to convince him to just use different ones.

But even that doesn't compare to the last moments before entering the stage. It's eerily quiet. Yes, you can hear the fans screaming but the voices really just fade into each other to form a big white noise machine. You look around to make sure everyone is in their positions while adjusting the height of your micro. Evan on the drums, Barty on the Bass, Dorcas, and Regulus on the guitar, and Pandora standing in front of her keyboard.

In these last moments, you like to focus on one thing and study it to calm yourself. Today it's the microphones. Your's is silver and bedazzled and the only one that's easily removable from its stand since you walk around the most (apart from Barty). On the bottom of it is a little pink heart doodle you drew on the day of the Emeralds' first big concert. Pandora's is light blue with a self made 3D butterfly on it. She made it about a month ago and very proudly showed it off at your next show. Barty and Regulus don't have one, Regulus because he doesn't really like to sing and only does so in about two songs, and Barty because he couldn't keep still and just always sang into others micros anyway. Dorcas has a basic black one or that's what it would be if she didn't slap any stickers she can find on it. The first layer of stickers isn't even visible anymore. Evan is the only one with a headset because leaning out to get to the microphone while playing the drums is too annoying for him.

Through their earpieces, the countdown starts and everything seems to slow down. You can feel the goosebumps overcome your skin and you have to shake yourself once to calm down.

Evan and Pandora sing the first lines before the curtain falls down but you can hear the screams getting louder and a smile tugs at your lip.

"Honey, are you coming?"

Evan's loud scream in unison with the drop of the curtain makes something click and all of a sudden everything is clear. You can see the first few rows and like always you start to scan the audience for someone cute while the guitars are playing. And wouldn't you guess, there he is. Front row and staring at you in awe.

He's cute. Probably about 6'2 with a big muscly figure and messy dark curls. His eyes are like honey and you can't help but return his stare. He smiles like the sun and you know it's over. You feel the need to write a love song right this second but the current song will help too. It's a fun and flirty song mostly written by Dorcas and Barty and you can't help but hold eye contact while singing.

/I know a place downtown, babe, if you wanna go/

You're a bit too breathless for you're liking. Sure there's a hot guy in your audience but that's really not that big of a deal. You see hot people all the time. You worked with models for a few shows, god dammit

Dorcas takes over for a while which might be your saving grace as it allows you to take a deep breath and remind yourself to just flirt, have fun, and don't start anything serious. He's a fan after all.

You wrap both hands around your micro while and sing while looking the hot stranger up and down.

/And if it sounds good for you, baby, just say the word/

/You will li-i-i-i-i-ike it/

You run your hands down your body suggestively, take the micro out of the stand, and walk closer to the edge of the stage finally tearing your eyes off the guy to look at the mass of people in front of you.

You often perform this big but it's still so incredible. You don't think you'll ever get used to the fact that this many people enjoy your music.

/It's five AM/

/We feel so good, it's almost frightening/

You lean down to look at the hot guy again and startle when you realize how close you are. You can see every detail of his face, the little hazel freckles that are splattered across his iris, the beauty mark on his chin, and the little dimples

/I'm made for you, we can't deny it/

You wink at him and smirk when you can see his Adams apple bob down from swallowing.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

James has never been more overwhelmed and confused in his life. He came here planning to spy on his best mate's brother, who from what Sirius told him plays the guitar, he hasn't been able to confirm that yet though because he cannot tear his eyes away from the lead singer. When you made eye contact the first time he could've sworn he died but that could've been a coincidence, stars look at their fans. That's normal.

When you held eye contact while singing several lines and looked him up and down he had to stop himself from fainting.

Then you came towards him and leaned down to look at him up close. And that was it. He is in love. Now, this might be a bit much seeing as he's never spoken to you but then he was never known for his ability to take things slow.

/It's not a one night stand if it turns into two/

Because this stunning girl is looking at him while singing about one-night stands with a spark in her eye as if she wants to fuck him right then and there.

/Oh, I li-i-i-i-i-ike it/

Your voice is a little breathy as you sink down on your knees and he has to take a second to cool himself down. This causes him to finally look at his best mate next to him who is staring at the black haired guitar player. They do look very alike and judging from the look on Pads face this is very hard for him. They both have that sharp bone structure with startling light eyes and black curly hair.

James wants to kick himself for not even thinking about that but he can't when he can see you look at him from the corner of his eyes. It's like his eyes are automatically pulled to you.

/Honey, are you coming?/

it's a loud scream and the music abruptly stops, getting replaced by the booming sound of applause.

You let out a breathless laugh at the sound of this incredibly loud applause and take a moment to close your eyes and let this feeling soke in. You turn around to look at your other band members and are met with a unison look of amazement. This is the last show of the tour and you already kind of miss this.

Then as if on clock word without some sort of sign you all scream, "Hello London!"

#fluff #headcanon #marauders #writing #marauders era #fanfic #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter headcanon #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #band au #rockstar gf #maneskin #slytherin skittles

[taste-your-silhouette]

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

[marlena-immortale]

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

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

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

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

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

#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

[hxllfires-gifs]

PAIRING. victoria de angelis x fem!reader

SUMMARY. y/n is the other female member of the band, who has had feelings for vic for a while now, but was too nervous to say anything. one night after a concert in new york changes that after the bassist overhears a conversation between damiano and y/n.

WORD COUNT. 1,111

Y/N L/N DREAMED about performing from a young age. She started to enjoy the art of singing and music due to her family’s interest in the arts. It was a big part of her childhood and teenage years so the fact that she got to do what she loved with some of her best friends, well it was a huge thing to her.

Going on to win Eurovision in 2021 opened doors for her and her band, giving them opportunities they never thought possible. Måneskin growing as a whole was great but the more time went on, the harder it got for the girl to hide her true feelings. She was in love with her fellow band member and best friend, Victoria de Angelis.

The boys always teased her about it and it scared her honestly. She was always open about her sexuality, like Victoria and Ethan were, but it always felt different when Vic was involved. She would get more shy when alone with the bass player and it started to gain more attention from the public, which is something Y/N kind of wanted to avoid.

The three boys and two girls never hid any affection for one another but everyone knew that it was more friendly where the H/C haired girl was concerned. However, deep down she wanted more with the blonde. How could she not? Vic was stunning and one of the nicest people she knew. Anyone would be lucky to have someone like her.

The band had just finished a concert in New York, Y/N and Damiano being the first two backstage. The two singers did not hesitate to sit down on the couch in the dressing room. The crowd had been wild and the vibe was electric to say the least. It was one of the best crowds they’ve had on this tour so far.

“When are you finally going to tell her how you feel?” Damiano’s question snapped the H/C haired girl out of thought, her eyes moving to focus on her friend.

An unimpressed expression was painted on her features but the L/N remained silent for the next couple of seconds. She did not like the boys mentioning her secret when Victoria could just walk in and hear what was being said.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She feigned innocence.

Damiano rolled his eyes at her response. “Yeah, okay. N/N, we all see how you are with her, even the fans have started to see it. You can’t keep this a secret forever and I don’t understand why you would want to. It is obvious that she likes you too.”

Y/N shook her head. “Absolutely not. There is no way that she likes me. Have you seen her? She’s way too good for me. We are just friends so I doubt she sees me as anything different.”

“You can be so stupid sometimes. Vic is in love with you too. It may be hard for you to believe but she does, so you should try to tell her how you feel. You have had these feelings for how long now and still haven’t tried. I can promise you that it will work out in your favor.” Damiano’s words were meant to be encouraging as he just wanted to see his friends happy.

The female sighed. “It’s not that easy. You know this but every time I’m around her, it’s like butterflies are in my stomach and I get so shy. I have things I want to say but I never want to mess anything up in front of her. She is so perfect to me and I want to be able to be equally as great.”

Damiano smiled when he realized that there were people standing in the doorway. The others had come back and had heard everything pretty much, including Victoria, who had a smile of her own. Y/N had not seemed to realize though, her eyes having been closed and her head laid on the back of the couch, trying to calm herself.

It wasn’t until the bassist spoke that she opened her eyes and seemed to freeze. Vic had heard what she said, there was no way she didn’t.

“You have a crush on me? It’s a good thing that I have feelings for you too.” Vic had a slight teasing tone laced in her words but she meant what she said, which really did surprise the other female.

Damiano stood and walked towards the doorway, whispering something the Ethan and Thomas before glancing at his female friends. “We’ll leave you two alone.”

The three walked away from Y/N and Victoria, going to do God knows what. The L/N was shocked to hear Vic’s own confession and it was obvious, which made the blonde laugh. She went to sit on the couch in the same spot that Damiano had just gotten up from.

“Did I hear that right,” Y/N voiced aloud, not really meaning to.

The bassist nodded. “Yes, you heard that correctly. I have had feelings for you for so long. I thought I had been clear about it but I guess my attempts weren’t enough. So, yes, I love you and it’s something I’ve wanted to say for a while. You really thought you were not good enough for me? You are more than that to me.”

Y/N couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes but she didn’t allow them to fall. This was really happening! Vic actually loved her. She had dreamed of this moment but it felt impossible for it to really happen. However, she couldn’t be happier.

She was speechless at first but soon regained control of her brain. “Really? I just thought you were being friendly to me. You are the most amazing person so yeah, I did think that you wouldn’t see me as anything other than a friend.”

Vic glanced down at N/N’s lips before focusing back on her eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

It was such a simple question but it held so much power over the L/N, who was quick to nod and agree. Their lips met and it was better than Y/N imagined. The two pulled away after a couple more seconds and the H/C haired girl smiled.

Vic wrapped her arm around the other girl’s body before asking the important question she had on her mind. “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

Y/N L/N laughed and her smile never faltered. “Yes, of course! I would love that.”

Victoria brought her now girlfriend closer and rested her head on top of Y/N’s, the two staying like that until they eventually had to get up.

#esc2021 #esc 2021 #esc #eurovision #eurovision x yn #eurovision x reader #eurovision imagine #maneskin #maneskin fluff #maneskin x fem reader #maneskin x reader #maneskin imagine #maneskin x yn #victoria de angelis #victoria de angelis x reader #victoria de angelis x fem reader #lgbtqia #victoria de angelis fluff #victoria de angelis imagine

[erodadisc]

i don't think this is even matching but i'm posting it anyways :)

#victoria de angelis #vic de angelis #vic de angelis icons #maneskin #maneskin fanart #moodboard #rockstar moodboard #man i love bassists #bass #punk rock #dark blue moodboard #aesthetic #maneskin aesthetic #black moodboard #black aesthetic #rock and roll #rock and roll moodboard #rock and roll never dies #victoria de angelis icons #victoria de angelis x reader #italian bassists

[so-fuck-what-im-dreaming]

Date Night | Damiano David

Pairing : Damiano David x Reader

Prompt : A post I saw a while ago where someone was talking about a speakeasy they had been to that also doubled as a tattoo parlour and I couldn't stop thinking about it...

Warnings: Poor Italian translations, bad tattooing process and aftercare, not proof-read

Word Count: 2527

“Are you ready to go Amore?” He asks, walking back into your shared bedroom and standing behind you as you looked in the mirror, slipping your earrings in. “Though I don’t really know why I’m asking, considering I have absolutely no Idea where you’re taking me,” He says with a soft laugh as he places his hands on your hips, pulling you into him.

“I promise you’ll love it,” You assure him as you lean back, resting your head on his chest.

“I’m sure I will,” He says as he starts to kiss your neck. The warm Rome air was flowing through the apartment, all the windows and doors open creating a nice breeze. This was your happy place, here with him. “Mmh…let's get going,” He teases, pulling away from you.

“You just don’t like surprises do you?” You ask him as you put your sandals on, buckling them at your ankle.

“You know I don’t” He says with a grin as He spritzes himself with his cologne. 

You left the apartment hand-in-hand as you walked towards the metro station, it was only a few stops away so you were quickly off again. You double checked the distance when you got out and it was only a five minute walk. You passed the Circo Massimo and you reminisced about when Damiano played there a few years ago. You had only been dating around a year when He begged you to come, guaranteeing you it would be the best night of your life and He had definitely not been lying. 

You had heard the band practising before, even having sat in on some recording sessions…but there was something different about seeing them perform, seeing Him perform. Damiano was almost a different person. He was raw, unapologetic and very fucking hot. Not that He wasn’t anyway but somehow it had been taken to a whole new level.

“It should be just here…” You say looking down at the map on your phone.

“Are you sure Amore? I think your map might be wrong…” He says looking around. You spot what you’re looking for. A dark wooden door with a golden ‘T’ and matching knocker.

“Follow me,” You say with a wide smile on your face as you pull Damiano with you. You knock on the door three times followed by saying the word ‘Sfizio’. A moment passes before you hear it unlocking and the door swinging open. 

“Benvenuti Signore e Signora,” The Doorman says, nodding in your direction as you walk past him. 

“Welcome to temptazione,” You say quietly to Damiano as you both take a moment to soak in the atmosphere. There’s a light haze of cigarette smoke and the smell of expensive cologne filling the air as you’re silently led to a booth in the corner.. 

“Wow…where did you find this place?” He asks, both of you sliding into the dark green leather lined booth.

“Friend of a friend is one of the owners…it opened up a few weeks ago and as soon as I heard about it I knew I had to bring you,” You say, not wanting to give up the biggest secret yet.

The lady who had sat you left a menu card and a small piece of paper. ‘you’ll be seen at 11’ 

“What's that?” He asks as you look at the paper.

“The second surprise of the night…but it looks like you’ll have to wait,” You tease him

“You just can’t help yourself can you?” He asks and you just shake your head. You had just over an hour to kill until it was your turn so Damiano offers to grab the first round of drinks. By half past you were two drinks in, Damiano’s arm wrapped around your shoulders as you alternated between slowly kissing and quietly talking. The next half an hour seemed to go pretty quickly and soon enough you were being escorted down a dark hallway, your boyfriends fingers laced into yours as you followed,

“Leo will be your artist tonight, godere,” She says before leaving you. You turn to Damiano and you can see all the pieces starting to click into place.

“Is this what I think it is?” He asks and you nod, a smile spreading across your face. You had gotten a few tattoos in the past, nowhere near as many as He had and you had been saying for years that you wanted to get them done together some day. “-and you want to?” He asks and you nod again. When he sees your reaction you're pulled into his chest, lips colliding with his. “You’re perfect” He whispers before you're interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway.

“11 O’Clock?” A guy asks as he comes into the room.

“Yes,” You answer and He pulls back a curtain revealing a large leather chair and a tattoo station.

“Do you know what you want?” He asks and you look over at Damiano. 

“I was wondering if we chose for each other,” You suggest, and Damiano’s wide smile was a good enough answer.

“Do you want to leave it as a surprise?” Leo asks, opening a drawer and pulling out a black silk blindfold. You were definitely not a stranger to a silk blindfold. “ I can wrap it up for you so you can wait until you get home to see it? Quite a few of our couples do,” He offers and you both like the sound of that.

You were always slightly nervous before a new tattoo and Damiano knew that. “Let me go first, Amore,” He says, kissing your forehead. “Where do you want it?” He asks.

“Where have you got space is probably a better question,” You reply with a smile and He starts to unbutton his shirt. He shrugs it off and hangs it up on the hook behind the door. As he looks at himself in the mirror trying to see where you could put it you can’t help but admire him. A soft smile rested upon your lips as you let your eyes roam over his body.

“Up here Amore,” He says, directing your gaze back up his chest. “Either the top of my ribcage or just above my waistband?” He suggests, pointing out the two areas.

“I think here should be perfect,” You say, brushing your hand over the top of his ribcage. Damiano heads over to the chair and lays down. 

“Do you know what you’d like Signora?” Leo asks.

“I do, can I have a pen and paper…wouldn’t want to give anything away,” You say smiling up at your boyfriend. He quickly hands them to you and you draw out your design. “If you can do it as close to that as you can, that would be amazing,” You say and he nods. Leo hands you the silk blindfold before leaving the room to make a template of your design.

You moved towards Damiano, walking around the chair so you were looking down at him. He sits his head up slightly so you could tie the blindfold around his eyes.

“Oh how the tables have turned,” You say quietly, moving to sit on the edge of the seat. You slowly run your hand over his chest, paying special attention where his new tattoo will be. You lean down to press your lips to the base of his neck, slowly kissing your way up towards his jawline.

“Per favore…Amore,” He says but you’re interrupted again. Leo pays no mind to the position he found you in as he showed you the template.

“It's perfect,” You say with a smile, getting up and moving to sit in the chair on the other side. Damiano turns onto his side so Leo can reach his ribcage. The tattoo takes about five minutes, maybe not even that. He moisturises the area and covers it up so it’s hidden from prying eyes.

“That means it’s your turn, Amore,” Damiano says, pulling the blindfold from his face and smiling at you.

“I guess it is…how do you want me Signore David?” You ask with a grin as He stands up and walks you over towards the mirror. 

“May I?” He asks and you nod, before taking the back zip of your dress in between his fingers and pulling it down slightly. The dress hung around your waist, revealing the laced bra you wore underneath it. He moved his hand onto your stomach, dragging one of his fingers along the area where your skin disappeared under the lace. “What about here?” He asks.

“I like it,” You say with a smile and He seems pleased with his decision. You look down and see Damiano pulling the black silk out of his pocket. 

“Your turn,” He says as he ties it around your eyes. You feel his fingers lace into yours as he leads you over towards the chair, you carefully sit down, making sure your dress doesn't fall any further.

“Signore? Your design?” Leo asks Dami, who asks to speak to him away from me. Leo leaves the room and I can feel Damiano coming back over to me.

“Leo’s just gone to make the template…he’ll be back in a moment,” He says quietly, only a few inches from my ear. “I think it’s going to look beautiful Amore,” He says, tracing the area again with his finger…then something else…you can feel his breath on your stomach so it must be his tongue. 

“Dami…” You moan softly but he stops…drying the area so nobody would know. 

“Later, I promise,” He says, gently squeezing your thigh as He sits up…Leo having come back into the room.

“Signora…do you mind taking off your bra…I think the fabric might get in the way,” He asks and you sit up, a guy's hands, who you know for a fact are Damiano’s wrap around you, unhooking the bra and moving it away. Your nipples peak at the sudden cold air, then an alcohol wipe to disinfect the area is gently brushed over the area before the design is transferred onto your skin.

“Just stay nice and still for us Amore,” Damiano says, relieving you of any worry or concern you had. 

“Signore…would you like to do it?” Leo asks and there's a moment of silence.

“That's not up to me…Amore?” He asks and you quickly agree.

“Yes, of course,” You say, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the thought of Damiano tattooing something that would be on your body forever. You could still hear the music from the bar as they concentrated, the only other sound being that of the tattoo gun. You didn’t find it particularly painful and before you knew it, it was done. Damiano followed the same routine that Leo did with the aftercare before wrapping it up.

“You did so good,” Damiano says as He kisses your forehead. The silk blindfold is untied, left to drop into your lap.

“I’ll leave you two to get dressed…the charge has been added to your bill. It was a pleasure working with you Signore e Signora,” Leo says with a smile before quickly leaving the room. You loosen your bra slightly so it doesn’t affect the dressing before you pull your dress back up, over your shoulders. Damiano had already buttoned up his shirt by the time his hands reached for the zipper again, gently tugging it up.

“That was amazing Amore, thank you so much,” He says, kissing your shoulder blade.

“Thank you for tattooing me,” You say with a slight laugh. Damiano would later tell you that Leo had been following him on social media so had seen that He had tattooed before, so the whole ‘would you like to’ was a farce.

It was nearing midnight by the time you got back to the bar, both of you deciding to finish your drinks before heading home. Damiano’s jacket was draped over your shoulders as the cool air settled in on your journey home. The metro was quiet and the streets near your apartment were even quieter.

You had decided that you would both wait a week till revealing your new tattoos, wanting to give them time to heal before seeing them for the first time.

..................

The next week flew by, Damiano back in the studio, You were back in the office. It was a pretty unremarkable week that was all counting down towards the day you would finally see your tattoo. Damiano had ordered your favourite food for delivery, you had eaten whilst watching a movie you both wanted to see, a very nice bottle of red wine had been cracked open but both of you knew what the other was waiting for.

“I think it’s time,” You say to him as the film finishes.

“I think so too,” He says, getting up from the couch and taking you by the hand. He led you into your bedroom and towards the mirror. He pulled your shirt off of you whilst you unbuttoned his. Dropping both onto the floor in a crumpled heap. You watched as He moved to his bedside table, pulling out a very familiar black silk blindfold. “I’m going to clean it up before you see it, ok?” He asks, tying the silk around your head for the second time. He takes your bra off and can feel him peeling away the adhesive dressing. He headed into the bathroom and grabbed a damp towel, gently brushing it over the tattoo making sure it was clean and healing properly.

He positioned you in front of the mirror.

“Ready,” He asks and you nod, he removes the blindfold and you look down at your left breast. The dark black inked words cupping it. ‘Il Ballo Della Vita’ Curved around, identical to his, but this time in his handwriting, done by his hand.

“I…I love it,” You say, slightly lost for words. “It’s perfect Dami,” You say, unable to take your eyes off of it. You finally managed to tear your eyes away from it to turn around, pulling him down into a long and drawn out kiss. “Thank you,” You whisper with a wide smile on your face.

The silk is wrapped around his eyes now, damp towel gently wiping at the tattoo before letting him see. You were very impressed at how much it looked like your handwriting…Leo had done a very good job. You untied the blindfold, throwing it behind you and onto the bed as Damiano’s eyes travelled down his own body, locking onto the written words. ‘Sarò ciò che respiri’ Your favourite line from the song He wrote about you.

“You are what I breathe…” You say quietly, now it was his turn to be unable to tear his eyes away. It was very rare that Damiano was speechless…his whole job was putting his emotions into words…but this had stumped him.

“I…” He tries to say but to no luck. You smile to yourself…you definitely won. “It's perfect…you’re perfect…fuck, I love you so much Amore,” He says pulling you into his arms. “How about we put that blindfold to another use?” He asks quietly against the shell of your ear.

finite

#maneskin #damiano #damiano david #damiano david x reader #maneskin x reader #thomas raggi #vic de angelis #ethan torchio

[pjisskullourful]

┊ 𝙀𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙮 𝘿𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 ┊

🐦Ethan × reader

NSFW🔥 filthy smutathon

° Ethan Torchio/female reader insert

° making premature ejaculation work for you & your boyfriend

wordcount::: 6,326

° commissioned by dat boi jace(@punk-gremlin)💋 always a great time being on the same wavelength as you [requests are open but commissions get priority- there are 2 fics in cue, secure your own spot right here]

° [ITA:] principessa: princess - amore: love

It had been an incredible date, this was proving to be the norm in your relationship with Ethan. You didn’t think he was capable of taking you on a subpar date, even if he tried.

You were eight dates in, and he was still impressing you - taking you to places that you could brag about visiting and giving you nights full of sparks. He gave you butterflies each time he picked you up and none of your meals had been marred by awkward silences.

Tonight had seen you dining at a recently-opened seafood restaurant. Because it was so new, it was hard to get reservations, but his notable name got you into places without a fuss. Seafood was a favourite food that you shared, both of you intrigued by almost everything on the menu. This was more low-key than some of the other dates he had taken you on (axe throwing had been especially memorable). But that didn’t make it any less interesting. You had enjoyed getting to hear so many stories from his childhood trips to Costa Rica - a country you had never visited.

Everything had been so perfect. But by the time you arrived back to his place, you were pretty much done with keeping your hands to yourself. You were tired of (bordering on bored) being polite and acting according to society’s rules. This behaviour went against what you wanted. You wanted to get to the real main event of the night - him. All of the food had been delicious, but what was going to keep you buzzing into tomorrow was him and that amazing body.

Being back in his luxurious apartment had you inundated by memories of thrilling conclusions to other nights. They were recent and powerful, getting you to the point of practically salivating over experiencing more of that Heaven he could take you to.

Luckily for you, he was under no false pretences of why you were here. He didn’t waste your time pretending that you were here for a night cap or to see any souvenirs from Costa Rica.

You quickly found yourself in the master bedroom, your lipstick making a mess of his face and neck as he held your body close. Held up against the wall, you were kissing him with all of the enthusiasm that you had been keeping a lid on. Your hands had found their way into the open collar of his button-down, while his hands were pushing up the hem of your dress. You couldn’t recall who had started it, but you were immensely enjoying the steady grinding your bodies had set into.

You separated from his mouth, whimpering a little in response to the rising passion. “Mmn, I wanna fuck you.”

He paused, leaning back enough so that he could look you over with a furrowed brow. “Really, that’s what you want to do now that we're here?” You nodded, eagerly licking your lips. “I thought I was gonna turn the lights down so that we could share spooky stories.”

You laughed and gave his solid shoulder a shove. “Ethan…”

“What? I’m genuinely surprised that’s not what we came in here to do.” He said before dropping the farce. He showed you his more serious side, pinching your chin with his fingers to keep you looking at him. “I wanna fuck you too.”

You were smiling as he came in, initiating more kisses. But you didn’t let yourself get entirely carried away by this - not while you had an important point to make. “I mean that you don’t have to eat me out…”

This time he looked at you with sincere confusion. “But I like to- I love eating your pussy. Do you not like it? Did I go too hard or something last time? Because you can tell me to change anything at any time. I just really love making you feel good like that. I’ll do it any way you like-”

To silence him, you put one of your hands over his lipstick-smeared mouth. “It’s perfect, there is absolutely nothing wrong with how you eat pussy. I have no notes for your technique ‘cause there’s no part of it that I don’t enjoy. If there were such a thing- I’d give you an award for how great you are at it.

“But I just thought that for tonight, we could go straight into the fucking. You eat me out every single time. Maybe we could try things a bit differently tonight.” You said.

You weren’t prepared to see uncertainty on his face, but he nodded all the same. “Yeah, of course, we can try anything you like.” He briefly kissed you. “All that matters to me is that you come.”

“Well, are we gonna talk about it for the rest of the night, or are we gonna do it?” You asked.

He smiled as he lowered his centre of gravity slightly and relocated his hands to the backs of your thighs. He gripped you here, fingers digging into your skin as he lifted you off of the ground. You wrapped your arms securely around his neck as your heart began racing. Without a single second of trepidation or unsteadiness, he carried you over to this bed. You were invigorated by the ride, stealing a couple of kisses from him as he crossed the room.

You didn’t release your arms from around him, so when he lowered you to the bed, he was pulled down as well. You kissed him more as he laid down on top of you. You lifted your legs from the mattress and wrapped them around his waist, tensing them so as to keep him securely in place. After a whole night of holding back, you had a lot of time to make up for.

Your bodies fitting comfortably together, he started to grind on you again. You reached your hands into his loose hair as you enjoyed this friction. He buried his tongue into your mouth as his hands gripped your back, making you feel so wonderfully secure. Your cheeks rushed with heat as you noticed something below the waistband of his pants digging into you. You were still fully clothed, but the promise of nudity and more already had him erect. It was so flattering, just another testament of how into you this unbelievable man was.

A brief pause was taken so that you could each get undressed and he could grab a condom. He asked if there were any specific positions that you were craving. You didn’t care if it made you seem vanilla, you said missionary - ready to be obsessed with, knowing there was nothing more erotic than seeing him on top of you.

He turned down your offer of helping to apply the condom. So you just got comfortable on his bed, keeping your legs parted as you laid your head down on the pillow. As you took this opportunity to admire his body, you noticed him doing the same to you.

Then he began to get into position, filling the available area between your thighs. He braced himself with his hands on the pillow as he moved in closer than before. He appeared to be putting some concentration into this, his brow furrowed to go along with the serious expression he now wore.

Meanwhile you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that there was nowhere better than your current position. Your fingers played with his cascading hair, refusing to allow it to hide his handsome face at all. As you ran your fingers through the long locks, you found the singular plait that started at the nape of his neck and you wound the thin plait around your pointer finger. This was his ‘secret’ plait, not there for any particular reason. You had to be very close to even know of its existence - there was something so intimate about that, making you appreciate it more, giving it significance.

“Principessa.” He said, the pet name always made you feel precious. That was especially true now as he started to bury his dick into you.

You relished the feeling of your cunt stretching to accommodate him as he came in even closer - you were ready to feel him as close as possible. Your heart was consistently racing now, each time you were daunted by the size of him, needing an opportunity to settle in. But it did nothing to dampen your excitement and you could hardly wait to explore everything that took you from daunted to satisfied beyond belief.

That serious look remained on his face and you assumed he was worrying over hurting you. You took it upon yourself to show him how much you were enjoying yourself. You kept one hand playing with his hair, while you wrapped an arm around his shoulders, easing his chest closer to yours. You lifted your head, getting close enough to cover his mouth in enthusiastic kisses.

At first he couldn’t quite keep up with you, his breathing somewhat laboured between kisses. Then his mouth was responding more, it seemed that his focus was shifting and the two of you began to find a synergy. All the while, he was moving deeper into you and you expressed your appreciation by kissing him harder.

You chased greater proximity by wrapping one of your legs around his waist. You worked your hips, eagerly pumping yourself closer to him. As you further explored the fun to be had with your current range of movement, you swiped your tongue at his lips.

Instead of letting you into his mouth, he was breaking the kiss altogether. His head somewhat slumped, mostly falling out of your field of vision. For the moment you placed your concentration on mastering your movements.

On top of you, you could feel his uncontrolled shivering. He met each of your hip snaps with his own powerful yet unpredictable movements. These thrusts were accompanied by his heavy breathing, the occasional moan falling from his lips to denote his efforts. On either side of your head, his hands were curled into tight fists and you admired the way his muscular arms bulged as they framed you.

You felt him letting you take the lead and you sought for a maintainable pace. You gained almost all of his length into your cunt, enjoying this with your continuing rocking.

“Yes, Ethan.” You whimpered as his reckless movements invited new sensitivities into your body. “Give it to me.”

“Oh.” He gasped, following his hips slamming into yours.

Shakily, he rocked himself back again. But you were quickly thrusting yourself forward, your pussy greedy for more spellbinding stimulation. You pushed his hair back from one side of his face, instantly revealing the expression he wore, almost frowning, with deep lines all over his features. It was a look you had seen before, when the two of you had had a Netflix and Chill date, watching the documentary Our Father together. You hadn’t seen it mid-fuck before and you weren’t sure it suited the scenario.

You endeavoured to kiss it off of his face. You started on his cheek, kissing across his cheek, towards where his mouth was hanging open. He didn’t respond much, seemingly too caught up in the reactions he was gaining from your rutting.

You pushed your lips against his, but you couldn’t follow this up with anything more. He was soon turning his face away, it was only slightly, but you noticed it all the same.

You tried to not apply any meaning or emotions to it, just trying again. He dodged you again, a bit more noticeably this time around. His eyes were squeezed shut and with his face slightly turned from yours, it was almost like he was avoiding this connection with you. So much for not applying meaning to his actions…

“Ethan, is something wrong?” You asked, feeling a bit too vulnerable for your liking.

He paused, falling out of the pacing that you had been slowing. “Huh? No, I’m fine…”

You didn’t care for this answer, and he still wasn’t looking at you. “Are you sure? The vibe is kind of off.”

He stopped moving altogether, letting out a shaky sigh. “I’m just trying not to come.”

“What? Why? What are you talking about?” You asked, this abrupt change almost totally throwing you out of your mood.

He finally opened his eyes to look at you. “Do we really have to talk about this right now?”

“Yes.” You said, cupping his face in your hands. “I don’t want you to hold anything back from me, especially not while we’re fucking.”

He pulled out, rocking his weight back onto his knees to create some distance between you. “I have this thing where I always come super fast. Prematurely, some might say. And it’s really disappointing for the woman. I didn’t want that to happen ‘cause you’re not close, not even a bit. Am I right?”

You sat up. “Well, yeah but-...”

“I really like you and the last thing that I want is to let you down in any way.” He said and you were grateful when he let you hold his hand with yours. “I don’t wanna be a shit lay for you, I’m trying really hard not to be because you deserve the best. You deserve to not have someone come so fucking fast that it’s over before you really get to enjoy yourself. You deserve someone with the right amount of stamina to live up to your expectations. And I’m trying to be that-...”

You silenced him by crawling over to place yourself in his lap, instantly wrapping an arm around his shoulders. You put your hand to his cheek so you could direct him to look at you. “My only expectation is for us to have fun together. And if you having fun means you come quickly, then come quickly, amore.”

“You say that now, but it’s-”

“I say it ‘cause I mean it.” You said, leaning in closer so that he had no choice but to meet your eye - you had never seen him this insecure before. “Actually, it’s kinda hot. Some people have these strong poker faces when it comes to sex, it’s impossible to tell if they’re having a good time or not. But you’re so honest with how much you love it that you can’t even hold back, you can’t wait to come and hit that highest high.

“It’s sexy to know that I can drive you so wild like that.” You took the opportunity to press a soft kiss to his mouth. “Will you let me drive you wild?”

“Are you sure it’s not a turn off?” He asked.

You changed how you were sitting on him, moving so that you could straddle him and push more of your body against his. “The opposite. I think it would be physically impossible for you to do anything that could turn me off.” You were pleased when he let you kiss him some more, finally beginning to kiss you back. “Can I show you how much it turns me on?”

“If you’re sure about-...”

You cut him off and with your hands on his shoulders, you began to push him down. “No more expectations. Get out of your head and just be here with me, Ethan.” You got him down on his back. “Come when you wanna and let’s have fun with each other’s bodies.”

You didn’t think he looked entirely convinced, your words wouldn’t be enough to dismantle his insecurities at once - especially because this seemed like more than just a passing anxiety.

But he didn’t have any further arguments against your points, and this was good news to you. The good news continued when, upon laying your body on top of his, you discovered that his erection hadn’t gone away. You wrapped your hand around it, pleased to find he was still in an aroused state, similar to you.

As you kissed him, you started to stroke your hand up-and-down his shaft. He kissed you back, helping you release the worry that he might not be into this. Now you could put your concentration on feeling his body’s reactions, which were so exciting that you were soon finding yourself firmly in the mood again.

He didn’t ask you to slow down, instead he was holding you tighter as he kept up with your kisses. You braced yourself with your knees on the mattress as you repositioned your hips. You kept stroking him as you directed his head towards your awaiting pussy.

You felt him suck in a quick breath when you started to bury his cock inside of your cunt. There was that moment of being daunted again, but nothing was going to deter you. You let the greediness inspire you.

“Oh…” He moaned as he broke away from the kiss.

Your clenching walls were taking in more of his length and you could hear him thoroughly losing his breath again. You kept easing yourself down, wanting to get back to what both of you had been enjoying earlier.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” You said, waiting for that moment when you felt his body relax.

There were a few soft kisses shared. But the majority of your focus went to discovering how your bodies could move together in this new position. He let you take the lead again and your eager grinding on him developed into bucking. You worked your hips, so happy to give into the rush of desires.

You were still so worked up (the sensitivities in your pussy had hardly faded away during that little discussion/intermission), each collision invigorating you more and you didn’t hesitate to increase your speed. You found a consistent pace to stroke yourself up-and-down his erection, gaining more thrilling stimulations for yourself as he writhed beneath you. Your cunt stretched accordingly, letting you pursue everything that could come from these quick movements.

With his hair splayed out on the bed around his head, you could enjoy an uninterrupted view of his face. He held his eyes shut and although some frown lines were still visible, his expression wasn’t as extreme as before. He had lost some of his seriousness as he resisted far less.

“It’s okay, amore.” You said as you felt more of his body responding.

His hands took on the appearance of claws, his fingers digging into you as he held you so tight. You could feel the need in him, especially in his enthusiastic responses to your bucking. And it made you want to give him more.

His hips jutted up into you, not always matching your timing. But you didn’t allow this to throw you off of your momentum because it felt so promising. You tensed your thighs against his hips and gave him back the energy that he showed you.

As you mercilessly pushed one another up to that edge, there were moments of synchronisation. These impacted you much deeper, noises falling from your lips as you felt these true threats to your composure. But they were few and far between. With his thrusting so unpredictable, you couldn’t capture them for yourself, leaving you unable to unlock that greater pleasure.

He left all control behind, whimpering through his constant, yet inconsistent movements. Until, with one final snap of his hips, he captured the peak for himself, quickly disappearing over the edge.

You couldn’t enjoy watching what the orgasm did to him. Because he was swiftly taking his hands off of you so that he could cover his face with them. He groaned into his hands as he fell back to the mattress, his body slumping.

You stilled yourself, letting this moment be all about him as you stroked his chest. “It’s-”

“You weren’t even close, were you?” He asked, interrupting you.

“It doesn’t matter to-”

“All my ex-girlfriends hated it. I didn’t want to embarrass myself like this in front of you.” He said and his disappointment was clear.

You put your fingers around his wrist but he wasn’t going to let his hands be taken from his face so easily. “Ethan, why are you embarrassed? I like it, this is what I wanted. I’m really into it. I’m so happy that you came for me, can’t you be happy too? I mean, it did feel good, didn’t it?”

He lowered his hand, looking at you with one eye. “Of course it did. I wouldn’t have come if your pussy didn’t feel so amazing.” You smiled at that, wanting to hear more - not just for the benefits to your ego, but because he was sounding less miserable now that you were on this topic. “You left me with no choice. Especially with you on top like that- fucking spectacular.”

“Spectacular?” You repeated.

“Yeah, I would say that’s the correct way to sum it up.” He said.

“Good, I wanna make you feel spectacular.” You said. “You really have no idea how hot it is that you want me so bad you can’t hold off.”

He took his other hand off of his face so that he could stroke your arm. “Well you’re fucking sexy.”

“So are you, Ethan. So are you.” You said, leaning in and kissing him a few times. “And it has nothing to do with expectations or stamina, or any other shit. You just are and you turn me on so much, so stop wasting my time being embarrassed.

“You must be very sensitive.” You said of his dick, still nestled inside of you. “Do you want me to get off?”

“No. I mean, yes, but no.” He said. “Yes, I am sensitive, really sensitive. But no, you don’t need to move off. Obviously you can if that’s what you want. But don’t worry about me when you’re making your decision. If this is how you want to come, then by all means, stay put.”

“It kind of sounds like you’re encouraging me to use your body.” You said.

“Oh, absolutely, I am.” He said, nodding his head.

You grinned as you began to sit up, rocking your body weight down towards your pelvis. “I’ll use you, I’ll use you to make me feel so fucking spectacular.”

“Amazing, that’s exactly what I want.”

You gained your balance and slid yourself further down his shaft. He was done with hiding his face, now his eyes were wide and watching every single thing that you did. You loved his attention, you didn’t shy away from it, too elated for shame. You could see the admiration in his eyes and it was so clear that he was out of his negative headspace, able to enjoy himself now. That made you swell up with pride.

You started to ride him. “I’m gonna use you so hard.”

“Yes.” His voice was quieter now and he put his hands to your hips.

You grinned, you were truly bordering on cocky now. “I’m gonna treat you like one of my toys.”

He bit into his bottom lip, but this did nothing to contain the moan he was making. Watching his eyelids flutter, your face lit up. A blush began coming into his cheeks - this one was meant to be celebrated.

“You like that idea, huh?” You said and he nodded, still appearing slightly bashful. “I like it too.” You put more power into your next swing forward, getting ready to abandon all restraint. “Come on, be a good toy and make me come.”

“Yes.” He said with another moan as you kept moving. “Yes, that’s all I want.”

You were confident in your movements, locking into the need that was so present. You could feel yourself elevating from the tingles that had been populating your body while he captured his orgasm. They had felt good, but you knew there was more you could claim, prompting you to drive yourself harder into him.

You were ready to work yourself to the explosions that would overshadow the tingles altogether. You didn’t struggle to find the right momentum and you put all of your effort towards rutting into him, as quickly as you needed. You were no longer daunted, settling into the ideal speed.

You felt him writhing beneath you, leaving his embarrassment behind as he grinded to meet your persistent pounding. Upon viewing his body from this new perspective, you couldn’t help thinking that you had found a sight more erotic than being beneath him. The power that you felt went directly to your head, wanting to intoxicate you. As you watched his every reaction (they were getting bigger, less restrained), it made you hunger to uncover what else you could draw out of him. How would he feel when you controlled him more?

“Can I rub that clit?” He asked through his laboured breathing.

“Yes.” You answered at once. “Hell yes, baby.”

He propped himself up with his elbows and his gaze went down to your cunt. He reached a hand out, coming at you with his index finger extended. He pushed this between your labia majora, getting at where your clit was already swollen from the surge of blood into this concentrated area. He rubbed the tight bundle of nerves lightly, moving his finger gently up-and-down.

“I miss how it tastes.” He said, playing his finger in a swirl around the hood, before taking it away.

His eyes moved back to your face as he placed the finger into his mouth. You maintained eye contact, fascinated by the way he licked this moisture off of his digit. There was something so seductive in how he was looking at you, letting you enjoy the connection that had been lacking earlier.

Your chest expanded, so full of anticipation, when he returned his finger to your clit. He worked it over with more pressure, maintaining contact and giving you something you could truly sink into.

The intensity was immediate, reaching deeper than his touch. It radiated out, shudders that went straight to your core, where the greatest pleasure could be unlocked.

With the tension increasing inside of you, your walls gripped to him tighter. Your hips gave an excited, unexpected stutter forward. Instead of trying to get back to your momentum, you embraced this new, quicker rhythm. You pummelled into him, giving yourself no time for recovery as the excitement bubbled up, more with each circle his finger completed.

“I- ah, ah…” He gasped, leaning back again. “I think I’m gonna come ah-again…” His hips moved to their own desperate rhythm. “Yep, I’m gonna-gonna, I’m gonna...”

“Yes, yes, do it for me, Ethan.” You said.

He gave a loud whimper to greet his next climax, then fell back entirely. His eyes were shut but no attempts were made to cover his face and you watched how he reacted, the expression on his face relaxing. There weren’t any of the earlier hints of worry, this was clearly a state of bliss.

Even though it appeared that he was tired, ready to just concentrate on his afterglow - he didn’t stop rubbing your clit. This kept you feeling those shudders and it made you unwilling to stop. You eagerly continued working yourself on his dick, still gaining the benefits of this unrelenting tempo.

You were soon in a frenzy, your whole body lit up with powerful stimulations. Your hips snapped endlessly forward and each collision let you feel those shudders harder.

You chased as they became cracks in your composure. Then they were bursting you open, incredible explosions gripping your body. You threw your head back, vocalising your triumph as you got lost in the lust.

You were joyful in your release and you stayed at this height. Beyond your control, and with limited coordination, you continued to move. You were still jackhammering your hips because this momentum was too rewarding to abandon yet, even as the fatigue wanted to creep in.

He came back into your awareness by springing up and wrapping his arms around your body. He was still moving as well, invested in his own pacing. You could feel the reckless nature of his bucking, sacrificing getting his breath back for this rhythm. You wrapped your arms around him, knowing you weren’t in the right state to give him much more - matching him was truly beyond your current capabilities.

“Oh, God…” He moaned, his hot face pressed into your neck. “Oh God, guh-ung. I’m- I’m… ah!”

He almost threw you off with his next energetic spasm, but there was nothing after that. The two of you fell into inactivity, clinging to one another through this quiet.

“Did you… again?” You asked.

“Yeah.” He said with a little chuckle. “When does the amount of orgasms get ridiculous?”

“I don’t think there’s a strict rule on that.” You said, running your fingers through his hair. “I asked you not to hold back, and- I guess you’re really enjoying this pussy, eh?”

He leaned back so he could look up at you. “So, so, so, so much.”

You stroked the hair away from his sweaty face, admiring the look he wore. “Maybe I should stay where I am?” His instant response was to tighten his arms around you. “I was thinking about how crazy sensitive you must be, so it seems like the right thing to do- to climb off and give you a chance at recovering.”

He persistently shook his head. “Uh-uh, I don’t want you to move off. I wanna keep you right here, if you’ll let me.”

“Wow, you like this pussy a lot, huh? It’s like you can’t get enough of it.” You said, the flattery glittering in your veins.

“Not yet.” He said and you noticed that he had gently started to thrust again. It was so subtle that you could have missed it, absolutely nothing like his earlier vigour. But the intention was definitely there - he was still so hard inside of you.

“How can you still be so needy?” You asked.

He leaned in closer, lining his mouth up with yours. “You just feel so, so good.”

You smiled after he kissed you. “You need this pussy, don’t you?”

He nodded and you hoped the obedience in his gaze would remain for a while because you weren’t done enjoying it and the way it made your heart flutter.

“Yes, I do.” He answered in a quiet voice.

You kissed him and his pumps were getting to be more persistent. Your hot body rubbed on his, all of these tantalising sensations were the perfect chaser to your orgasm. It wasn’t about pushing yourself to match him, it was about letting him work out the rest of this energy.

Chest-to-chest, you remained sitting on top of him. Your thighs squeezed at his hips as he bucked up into you.

“Do you think you’ve got another one in you?” You asked.

His building pace didn’t falter. “Let’s find out.”

With his eyes shut, he totally missed the way you were staring at him. You couldn’t help it, you loved everything about how he looked right now. It was an infatuation deeper than anything you had experienced before as you felt privileged to behold him in this state. He continued to hold nothing back - something important had been conquered here tonight.

You shifted on top of him as you felt some of his impacts shaking your core. It wasn’t consistent, but it was very enticing each time it happened. It had you starting to lose your breath before you initiated the next kiss. As he took the lead with these movements, he let you take the lead with kissing and soon your tongue was in his mouth.

This endless give and take between your bodies was intoxicating, you understood why he wanted to indulge in it some more.

You felt yourself clenching up again, whimpering against his mouth a little. With more energy coming back to you, you began to think about the possibility of coming with him. You were taken with the idea at once and your hand curled into a fist around his hair as you picked up your own tempo. You didn’t know if a moment so perfect was likely to happen, but you chased it with hungry pumps.

As your lungs burned for air, your mouth left his so that you could just rest your head against his. You let all of your effort go down to your throbbing pussy, which probably wasn’t going to be getting a break soon. You did your best to meet his wild jackhammering.

“Oh, oh, oh…” He let out a choked sob.

Your other hand went into his hair as well, needing something to grip as you found yourself riding that edge again. You wound that thin plait around your finger, unable to resist the urge to tug on his hair a little.

“Ah, ah… here I- yes, fuck, fuck.” He panted, writhing up into you one final time.

Almost immediately after this he was pulling away. You realised that your chance for another climax was gone, but you accepted this as okay, you still had plenty of wonderful sensations swarming your system - the next best thing to an orgasm. There would be opportunities to match him orgasm-for-orgasm in the future. Right now you didn’t want to push him further into exhaustion for something that might not happen, so you lived vicariously through his release.

It hadn’t been enough to just pull out, he had taken it upon himself to reposition entirely. Gasps and other incoherent sounds narrated his every movement. He got himself turned around and to where he could lay his head down on the pillow.

“Oh, I think- I overdid it.” He said. “Holy shit, my cock is too sensitive to be alive right now. Shit… I have never come that many times at once before.”

“Really?” You asked as you eased yourself up closer to him, not wanting to make him feel crowded straight away.

His eyes drifted over to you, but they weren’t entirely focused. “Yeah, four fucking times, that’s crazy.”

You couldn’t help but stroke the inside of his thigh. “This pussy is the only one that can make you come so fucking much, eh? See, we can still have fun. You just have to be open to new experiences.”

His eyes looked a little glassy as he watched you lay down next to his body. “I can’t believe how cool and okay and adaptive you’re being about all of this.”

“Well start believing it, baby.” You said, caressing across his forehead. “I’m not going to let anything keep me from enjoying you as much as possible. I meant every word that I said, Ethan- this is hot as Hell to me.”

“You’re amazing.” He said.

You gave his chest a playful poke. “No, you are amazing. And there’s not a single thing about yourself that you should feel embarrassment over.” You treasured the look on his face, knowing that your words were having an actual impact on him. “So, is that why your technique is always to start with cunnilingus? You wanna get me all worked up and happy, and then I’m so excited about my orgasm that I don’t notice how quote-unquote early yours is?”

“Kinda. But I do genuinely love doing it, and seeing how it’s been working for us has made me wanna keep doing it.” He said.

“Relax, it’s not mandatory. We can have sex any which way, we can experiment with anything you want.” You said. “I don’t want you to feel pressured to do things a certain way. You don’t have to do anything extra ‘cause you just being you is amazing enough for me.”

He smiled. “You’re being so sweet and romantic and making me feel so good by saying all of the right things. But I- I actually have nothing to say back. I hope that doesn’t make it sound like I don’t care, ‘cause I do. It’s just- literally all I can think about is that my brain is as drained as my balls.” You couldn’t help but giggle at that. “Is that bad, does that kill the mood? I just really, super overdid it.”

“It’s okay, I promise. I wasn’t saying those things to prompt you into saying anything back, I just wanted you to hear them, you deserve to hear them.” You said. You gave him a kiss on the forehead before you sat up. “You also deserve some water, which I’m gonna go get for you, my little cum-drunk angel.”

You didn’t require his guidance to find your way around the apartment. You fetched a glass and began filling it with chilled water. You weren’t lamenting the way that orgasm had slipped beyond your grasp at seemingly the last second. You were too busy celebrating all the good things that had happened, leading to this strictly positive resolution.

As you walked back to the bedroom, your mind did start to wander. You were thinking about other things you could try out sexually, now that he was willing to break out of his rigidity. What else could you do to pull him even further out of his shell? Surely there was something you could do that would lead him to more moments of feeling obedient - because this was a side you were truly excited to explore.

You didn’t get the chance to share any of these thoughts with him. Upon arriving back to the bedroom, you found him asleep. He didn’t rouse, not even as you sat down on the mattress beside him. You drank the water, feeling perfectly content as you admired him, caressing his smooth forehead from time-to-time.

“If we keep this up, maybe I’ll fuck all of those insecurities out of you.” You said and you leaned down, kissing him on the  cheek. His head turned slightly in your direction, but his eyes remained shut. You laid down, wrapping your arms snugly around him as you soon joined him in slumber.

»»————-　♡　————-««  

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[filthforfriends]

Chapter 21: Brave Enough

Authors Note

Word count: 7.9k

Read the rest here!

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s time to wake up,” he murmurs.

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

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

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

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

“I’d like to contest that.”

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

“Yes,” you sigh, eyes falling closed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you could do anything –”

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

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

“What would you do?” he asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“In a good way.”

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

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

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

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

“Does my hand go under your shorts?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Does it go into your panties?”

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

“Mhm,” he encourages.

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

“Show me what you mean,” he demands.

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

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

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

“I need to brush my teeth.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being a nervous wreck.”

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

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

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

“Our relationship.”

“Not my sobriety?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For you to trust me, y/n!”

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

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

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

“Void?”

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

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

“Are you fucking serious?”

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

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

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

“I’m gonna be late for work.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And you can never trust an addict.”

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

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

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

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

“Be brave a little longer,” he coaxes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n.”

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

“Wow. So it's been a tough week?”

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

“But productive?”

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

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

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

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

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

“And his sobriety?”

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

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

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

“So that sounds like great news!”

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

“You mean comforted?”

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

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

“Yeah, from not dealing with it.”

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

“Basically.” 

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

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

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

“No, I’m just not ready.”

“Ready for what?” 

“These fucking exhausting, weighty conversations!”

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

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

“Oh, really?”

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

“What were those fights about?”

“This! Me!”

“You?”

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

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

“What's best for me.”

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

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

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

“Because I can’t control him!”

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

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

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

“Well, no. I know he does.”

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

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

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

“I’m not miserable,” you bite.

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

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

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

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

“Not the anxiety, y/n.”

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

“Why are you unhappy?”

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

“‘Slept with’ as in…?”

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

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

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

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

“No, not at all.”

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

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

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

“I…guess.”

“Don’t guess.”

“Deep down inside somewhere, probably.”

“So is that it?”

“You’re the therapist.”

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

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

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Anything!”

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

“What if we break up?”

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

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

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

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

“Progressing?”

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

“Reminders of his substance abuse?”

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

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

“Yes!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

“Why do you think that is?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I get it, I get it.” Well, shit.

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, man.”

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

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

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

“Damia,” you murmured.

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

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

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

-XOXO Eden

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[tempobrucera]

Fire Alarms & Love Hearts

Pairing: Fem!Reader/Thomas

Description: Thomas might be the reason why you and your neighbours are getting annoyed. And he might also be the one who asks you for a date.

Words: 10.1k

Warnings: Smut, it’s silly - I’m well aware of that

A/N: About 1 ½ years ago i received this lovely prompt and guess who finally wrote it @l0standn0tf0und

Add yourself to my taglist.  / Masterlist

._____.

It's the beginning of November even for Rome the night air is chilling, and you would like to be in bed instead of staying outside in the cold. In your pyjamas. Your neighbours are all outside with you, the fire alarm went off the second night this week. The second night you're staring at your neighbour, you think you overheard someone call him Thomas a few nights ago. He's standing there only in his briefs and while you're still asking yourself how he isn't cold you see him shiver.

"I probably should have grabbed my bathrobe on the way out," he says. You know you should say something but you're busy looking at him, he's tall, fascinating eyes, cute smile and your sleep deprived brain can’t handle anything at this moment. “But then no one’s really dressed for the occasion, are they?”

You realise he's talking to you, and you blush. "Sorry?"

He giggles.

"I’m cold, my ass is going to freeze and fall off and then it's going to get lost somewhere around here and the city is going to be sued because of a naked butt running around and..." He trails off.

Now you are the one laughing.

“I’m sure that’s not what you said before but we can’t have your butt get lost, good thing it looks like they’re letting us inside again."

You're right. A few minutes later you're back in your apartment, ready to fall asleep again. Snuggled in your blankets, thinking about Thomas winking at you before you parted ways again.

When you leave the next day you can see a little note on your door.

“Hello neighbour,

I would like to ask you out for dinner.

If you're interested just let me know, if not please burn this note and never mention it to anyone! And just pretend you don’t know who I am the next time you see me.

P.S. My ass is still in place, no suing yet ;)

P.P.S. You should ask out the cute guy from the floor above you.

Thom"

You're laughing as you fold the note and put it into the pocket of your coat, not knowing how you should respond. Bold you think, but somehow charming. And now you also know who lives in the flat over you, the wind sometimes carrying lovely guitar tunes to your window from his.

It takes you three days to have the courage until you're knocking on Thomas' door. He opens the door in his pyjamas, messy hair and his mouth open in surprise.

"Hi, I'm your neighbour from downstairs, the one you asked out for dinner" you say, a big grin on your face.

He laughs, and you are glad that you didn't just leave a message and go to your flat again.

"Yes, yes, I did," he says, opening the door for you, "but right now I'm making pancakes.”

“Is that what’s smelling like it’s burning?”

His eyes go wide.

"Shit!"

He turns around and runs to the kitchen. You take the time to look at his flat, there are a few books. Guitars. Magazines. A stray sock on the floor. Photos.

He comes back out a few minutes later, smiling sheepishly.

"Okay, so, it's not burnt. It's just... not exactly the way I had planned."

You knit your eyebrows together thinking about the fire alarms again but shake your head at yourself and smile at him instead.

“I would share them but …. I was kind of planning to eat them straight from the pan and my cooking isn’t exactly made to be shared, or even fit for human consumption.“

You laugh.

"I would like to share them anyway," you say and wink at him, "and I'm sure they're delicious."

He smiles back.

"Well then, sit down and let me be your host," he says. “But if you get food poisoning that’s on you, I warned you.”

“You can say if now is a bad time instead of trying to poison me if you want to, that would be perfectly okay, maybe I should have just written a reply to the note. So sorry if I'm interrupting anything. Or anyone."

"You're not. I'm not... I mean... I'm single. I'm sorry." He blushes. "I didn't mean to say that. Fuck. I mean..."

You start laughing.

"Okay. Calm down. Breathe. It's fine, I promise.”

“I’m only in my pyjamas. I wasn't really expecting anyone. Let alone the person I tried to ask out."

You smile at him.

"Well, I didn't expect you to still be in pyjamas in the middle of the day either." It's 4 o'clock in the afternoon, you really didn't think he would be in his pyjamas.

He looks at you sheepishly: "Good point. You can have my pancakes but only if you're getting in your pyjamas as well."

It's something you can agree on and ten minutes later you're sitting in his living room, in your pyjamas. He smiles and laughs and you have a nice fuzzy feeling when he looks at you. You talk about music, about travelling, about everything and nothing. When it's dark outside and you're full of pancakes, that are only half as bad as he thought and said but somehow still burned at the edges and the inside that should be fluffy sometimes not quite cooked. You're glad you took the chance. He's fun to be around and you talk more, about concerts, memories and favourite places. It's easy to talk to him, and it's even easier to laugh with him. When the conversation dies down a little bit and your eyes are getting heavy, he looks at you and grins.

"We should do that again."

You look at him, he's beautiful, he's sweet, you nod.

"Yes. Definitely."

"Maybe not in pyjamas next time."

*_____*

Thomas doesn't really think he can call it a date, it's not a real one, but it's a great evening and definitely a beginning of something. He likes you, he would love to take you out, and he feels like a fool for having given you a note and not asked you out directly. It's not his usual behaviour. When he's walking you to the door, he thinks about kissing you. But you're just getting to know each other, so he hugs you, and kisses you on the cheek instead. You're grinning and wave at him, he watches you walk to the door and down the hall to his front door.

"See you around?" He asks, a little hope in his voice.

"Of course. I think that's an offer I can't refuse."

"Good, next time I'll take you out for dinner." He says, you lean in and for a second he thinks you're going to kiss him, but you just give him a quick kiss on the nose.

"That would be wonderful," you say and then you're gone.

He goes back inside, closing the door and leaning against it.

"Fuck," he says to himself. "I've got it so bad."

*_____*

Two weeks later you're going out for dinner with Thomas. He's a little late and when he walks into the restaurant he's already apologising from afar.

"I'm so sorry, the traffic is hell," he says, his eyes wide. "And my phone battery died and I couldn't call you. But I'm here, finally."

You smile.

"It's fine," you say and you take a deep breath, he's so cute, you already knew that but seeing him makes you nervous and happy and giddy. A feeling you haven't had in a while. He sits down opposite you. "And I have to say it's nice to see you in something different than your pyjamas or only in underwear."

He blushes.

"You liked the sight then," he says with a smirk and winks at you.

You look at him, raising an eyebrow and grin.

"I didn't say that."

He chuckles and starts looking through the menu. You watch him, trying to figure him out, but it's not as easy as you first had thought.

"Do you want some wine?" He asks, looking at you.

"That sounds great," you say.

He looks at you, you think he's waiting for a question, but you're not sure what.

"I have another idea," you say, hoping it's a good one.

"What would that be?"

"A bet."

He raises an eyebrow.

"What would this bet involve?"

"We have to make the other one blush, the first one to lose the game has to pay for dinner."

He laughs.

"So we're both going to be in trouble tonight."

"Maybe, maybe not."

He looks at you and smiles, "okay, we can do that, but I should warn you I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."

"We'll see," you say.

And with that the game begins. You're looking at each other, smiling, flirting, and you're having fun.

The waiter comes over and asks for your order, Thomas gets Carbonara, and you're getting ravioli.

"Can I try yours?" You ask.

"Yes, if I can try yours."

You're nodding and when the food arrives a few minutes later, you take turns feeding each other.

"This is amazing," you say.

"Yours is too, do you think we should switch?"

You're smiling, shaking your head.

"No, it's good."

"Do you think the pasta is as good as me?"

"Don't make me answer that."

He chuckles.

"I would say we can just not decide who has to pay and just split it."

"You would say that, and I can't tell if it's because you're afraid of losing or because you're trying to be a gentleman."

"I'm always a gentleman." He laughs.

He smiles at you and for a second he looks at his hands, before looking up at you.

"I'm not afraid," he says. He takes your hand, and you know you should prepare yourself for something, "your lips look lonely, would they like to meet mine?"

He looks at you expectantly, his eyes wide, a little shy. It's endearing. And it's really adorable. You try to stay serious, to not laugh. But when his face changes from hopeful to worried and then he's trying to pull his hand away, you can't help yourself.

"That was the worst line ever," you say, laughing.

"I don't know if I should be offended? Are you laughing at me?"

"No," you say, still laughing, "actually it's kinda cute just... it's cute, and I can't believe you actually said that. I thought you're going to make me blush with something dirty but you're just being adorable."

"Hey," he says, pretending to be offended. "I'm not adorable, I'm handsome and I'm..."

"Adorable."

"Not."

You're shaking your head.

"Definitely."

He pretends to pout, which makes you laugh even more. And you can see the blush creep into his cheeks.

"I can't believe I'm the loser of this bet," he says, sighing.

"You might be, but you're right, my lips are a little bit lonely. Mind to help out?"

"I can try, not making any promises though," he says, he leans closer, putting his lips on yours, and kissing you softly. You're smiling, and so is he. It's a short kiss, and it's not really enough, but it's still perfect.

When he pulls away, he's looking at you, his eyes full of wonder, his mouth slightly open.

"What?" You ask.

"I just want to savour the moment, I haven't kissed many people lately, and it feels a little strange to have my first real kiss in a while after a bad pick-up line."

You chuckle.

"You can have another one if you like."

He nods and kisses you again.

*_____*

When dinner is over, Thomas walks you home. He takes your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours. He doesn't want the night to end, he likes being with you, and he has a feeling that you might like him too.

He brings you right to your apartment door and kisses you goodbye. It's soft and sweet and you're smiling, leaning into him. He can feel your smile against his lips, and he wants more.

He kisses you a little harder, his tongue flicking out to touch your bottom lip, and then your upper lip. A surprised moan escapes him when you open your mouth, granting him entrance, his tongue sliding over yours. Your arms wrap around him, holding him close, his body pressed against yours, and he can feel you against him. Your soft curves, your breasts pressing against his chest, your warmth and the smell of your skin, it's all intoxicating.

When the kiss ends, his lips are tingling. He looks at you, his mouth open and his breathing a little faster.

"You're good," you say, a smile on your lips.

He blushes.

"Thanks," he whispers.

He's leaning in again, kissing your cheek, and then the side of your neck, nuzzling your skin.

"Thomas," you whisper, his name coming out as a sigh.

He likes the sound of it, he wants to hear it again.

"Hmm," he hums, pressing a kiss right under your ear, sucking gently on your skin, his hands stroking your back. And then he pulls back. "I should say goodnight before I do something stupid."

You look at him, and for a moment he's afraid you'll disagree.

"Yeah," you say, sighing. "You're right."

He's glad that you understand, and a little disappointed that you're agreeing to let things progress slowly.

"Thank you for the lovely evening," he says.

"Thank you."

"I hope we can do that again, soon."

"Me too."

You give him a quick peck on the lips, then you're gone, closing the door behind you.

He stands in front of your door for a moment, his hand on the door, smiling.

"Fuck yes," he says to himself, a spring in his step when he gets up the steps to his own flat.

*_____*

After your third date with Thomas he's away for some time but he texts you. The first night he's back, is the night before your holidays and the first night another fire alarm goes off again, it's the beginning of January. You're annoyed, it's freezing cold outside, your flight is early and not even Thomas who's standing there in only his briefs again, with a bowl of pasta, can't make you smile.

"Hi neighbour," he says.

"Hi," you grumble.

He puts the bowl down, walking towards you and taking your hand.

"What's wrong?"

"I've got an early flight tomorrow, and now the stupid fire alarm went off, and..."

Thomas looks at you with guilt in his eyes, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, "I'm sure the fire department is going to be quick."

"They better be," you say.

You turn around and see the firefighter that you already saw talking to Thomas the last few times. Thomas tries to sneak away, you look at his pasta that all of a sudden looks suspiciously burnt.

"Is this your doing?"

He smiles sheepishly, "maybe."

"Maybe," the firefighter says. "I have a feeling, it might be your boyfriend who's a little bit clueless in the kitchen."

"That's not true, my pancakes are delicious." He says and looks at you for help.

You look at them both.

"Not my boyfriend, not really, and your pancakes were for human consumption but also ... burnt a bit," you say, and the firefighter looks at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, they were horrible, but I didn't burn anything in a while. Just today."

The firefighter sighs.

"This is the sixth time in not even as many months, please order pizza or go to a cooking class, please, for your neighbours sake," he says and you look at him.

"You're really getting a cooking class," you say to Thomas, "this is not negotiable, you can't cook, and everyone's getting fed up with being woken up by the fire alarm. You need a teacher, or someone, just... something. Please."

Thomas sighs, but he agrees.

"Fine."

"Good," you say.

It's not much longer until the building is empty again and the fire alarm is shut off. You walk to your apartment, and Thomas follows you.

"Sorry about the pancakes, and the pasta, and the fire alarm. And the other fire alarms," he says, sighing.

You shrug.

"It's okay, and now that the fire department knows that the fire alarm is set off by an incompetent cook, they hopefully know for future incidents. Now I should sleep, I'm getting up way too early tomorrow."

"Good night," he says.

"Night."

He hugs you, and kisses you, and you're glad to be inside again.

*_____*

The first time you sleep with Thomas is after you're back, the two of you are spending more and more time together, and there is no way you would ever describe it as 'just friends'. You've been flirting with him, and he with you.

Thomas is kissing you passionately. His hands are under your shirt. You're kissing back, trying to keep up with his kisses and his movements. You're in his bed and while you are both still wearing shirts and underwear you feel a little too warm all of a sudden. He is on top of you, kissing down your neck and biting softly, you let out a soft moan.

"Fuck," he whispers.

"What is it?"

"This is embarrassing, but... I might not last long," he whispers, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"Don't worry about that, I won't be offended," you say, stroking his hair, and kissing his temple. “Feels like a compliment to me.”

"Still."

"It's fine."

He lifts his head, looking at you, smiling, his eyes full of hope and lust. He kisses you again, and starts rubbing against you. The thin layer of fabric is the only thing separating the two of you. You're grinding back, moving together, and it's not long until you're both gasping, and you're holding on to him. His hands are moving, slipping under the waistband of your panties, pushing them down, and then his hands are between your legs. You can feel his fingers on your folds, stroking gently.

"Shit," you breathe, your eyes falling shut.

He's moving, getting between your legs and kneeling on the floor. You prop yourself up on your elbows, and look down at him, watching him, he's licking his lips, and looking at you, his pupils wide. You watch him and he leans in, his breath hot against your skin, his lips kissing the inside of your thigh.

He kisses upwards, getting closer and closer, and when his mouth finally touches you, your head falls back, and a moan leaves your mouth. He's sucking and licking, his tongue teasing your clit, his fingers thrusting into you. Your breathing is ragged and fast, your heart is racing, it doesn't take long until the wave of pleasure is crashing down on you.

"God, fuck, Thomas," you gasp, as the orgasm washes over you.

He keeps going, drawing out the pleasure - making you tremble and writhe. When he's finished, you're lying on the bed, breathing hard. He gets up, and gets rid of his underwear, and his shirt, and when he climbs back on the bed, he's naked. He leans down, kissing you.”

"Can I?" He asks, looking at you.

"Yes, please."

He lines himself up and slowly pushes into you, you can feel him stretching you, filling you, and you wrap your legs around his waist.

"Shit," he breathes.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, it's just..." he trails off, not finishing his sentence, and he starts to move, his thrusts are slow and gentle.

You can see the expression on his face, his mouth is hanging open, his eyes are closed, and he's moaning, and whispering. His name is on your lips, and you're holding onto him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

His thrusts become faster and harder, his breathing is getting ragged. He's moaning, his hips stuttering. He's groaning and grunting, his body tensing, and his muscles straining, and when he comes, his whole body shakes. He collapses on top of you, his weight resting on you, and his head resting on your chest.

You stroke his hair, and kiss the top of his head, and he's breathing heavily, his eyes closed.

"Sorry," he whispers, after a few moments.

"It's fine."

"It's been a while."

"You can't control these things."

He rolls off of you, and turns his head, his eyes opening.

"I'll make it up to you," he says.

"There's nothing to make up, really. It was wonderful."

"Still," he says.

*_____*

Thomas' birthday is coming up and even though by now he has told his friends and the band about you, he's still nervous asking you to join them for the evening. In the end he doesn't know what he was so worried about, you're excited and happy about the invitation.

Thomas is in the middle of his party, surrounded by friends and family, and you're sitting next to him, with a beer and a slice of cake, and he's happy. You're holding his hand, and occasionally lean over to kiss him.

Victoria is pulling you away from him to dance with you, and he's smiling and laughing as he watches the two of you.

"Good job," she whispers into his ear after she's sick of dancing.

"Thank you!" He has to grin, and then she's gone, and you're back by his side.

"How's the birthday boy doing?"

"Great, now that my girlfriend is back," he says.

You raise an eyebrow.

"Girlfriend?"

"Yes," he says, looking at you, a hopeful smile on his face.

"Okay, boyfriend," you say.

He blushes, and smiles, his eyes are wide but his smile is almost shy. He pulls you in, kissing you softly, and wrapping his arm around you.

"I like that," he says.

"Me too."

*_____*

He drags you into the bedroom as soon as most of the people have left and you can't stop smiling and laughing. Thomas closes the door and turns around to look at you. You're standing there, your hair is a little messy, your shirt is crumpled, and your cheeks are flushed. He can't stop looking at you, and when he doesn't say anything, you take a step forward.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes," he says, and closes the distance between the two of you, kissing you, and holding you close.

He starts unbuttoning your shirt, and kisses the skin that's revealed, then pushes the shirt off your shoulders, it lands on the floor, and then his hands are on your breasts, squeezing gently.

You pull his shirt off, and your fingers trail down his sides, making him shudder. His skin is warm, his stomach soft. You push him down onto the bed, he lies back, looking up at you, his pupils blown, his breathing ragged, and his cock hard.

"I've got a surprise for you, birthday boy.”

"Oh yes," he says, his voice hoarse.

"Close your eyes."

He does, and you take some lube from the nightstand, and get out of your skirt and your underwear, and kneel next to him, straddling his thigh. You squeeze some lube into the palm of your hand, warming it up between your fingers.

"Can I look now?" He asks, impatiently.

"Almost," you say, and then your hands are on his cock, stroking him, your thumb brushing over the tip, his hips bucking into your touch.

"Fuck," he whispers, and he bites his lip, trying to stay quiet, his eyes still closed.

You start moving, your hand stroking his cock, and he's groaning, his hands are grasping the sheets, and he's arching his back, and thrusting into your hand.

"Fuck, please," he gasps, and you stop.

He opens his eyes and looks at you, his mouth hangs open, and his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

"That was mean," he says, but the smile on his lips is telling you that he liked it. “Is my surprise only sex or is there more? Like is it edible underwear or something, a costume … oh," he cuts himself off, when he sees the look on your face.

You raise an eyebrow.

"A costume. You'd like me in a costume, wouldn't you?"

He's blushing, and his cock twitches, he doesn't answer, he doesn't has to.

"Wouldn't you?"

"Yeah," he admits.

You laugh.

"Well, I don't have one now, but if I find one, I might surprise you," you say, “I have something different for you, I want to eat you out and when you’re a whimpering mess, I want to ride you."

"Fuck, yes," he breathes.

"Lie back and relax."

"I can do that," he says.

You lean down and start kissing his chest, nipping and licking his skin. You can feel his heartbeat, his breathing shallow. You're working your way down, kissing his stomach. You take his cock in your hand, and stroke him, and he moans. You kiss further down, getting between his legs, and licking his balls, and then his cock. He's moaning, his hips jerking.

"Oh god, please," he gasps.

You continue, sucking his balls into your mouth, and then moving back. He spreads his legs a little further apart, and lifts his hips, you kiss his thighs, and stroke his cock, your other hand moves between his cheeks, and when your finger brushes over his hole, his hips jerk violently.

"Fuck," he gasps.

"Can I?" You ask.

"Please," he begs.

You're spreading his legs a little more, and kissing the inside of his thighs, and then you're licking his hole, your tongue teasing the tight ring of muscle. He's panting and gasping, his eyes closed, his mouth hanging open. He's writhing on the bed, his hips moving, and when you push your tongue into him, he's swearing, his hands gripping the sheets.

“Oh god, please don’t stop. Shit, please. Fuck, this is amazing, shit, please, fuck, I want- I need- please, please, please, please," he's babbling, and when you reach between his legs, and wrap your fingers around his cock, his body is shaking, and he's swearing. "Fuck, oh god, please, please, I need you. If you keep fucking me this good," he gasps. “I might just have to marry you.”

Your mouth is still on him but you smile, and you're licking and sucking, your hand is stroking his cock.

For Thomas it feels like minutes, for you, it must have been less than a minute. He's writhing and swearing, and moaning, his breathing is ragged, and his hips are stuttering, his cock throbbing and leaking pre-come. He's a mess, his back arched, fingers entangled in your hair.

“You enjoy that?”

"Fuck, yes. Yes. God, yes, please, please, I need you, please," he pants, and his eyes are wide open, looking at you.

"You ready for me, birthday boy?"

"Yes, yes, please," he whispers.

You kneel over him, straddling his waist, guiding him to your entrance. He's holding on to your hips, his eyes squeezed shut. You lower yourself, and when the head of his cock slips into you, the both of you moan. You're moving, taking him in inch by inch, and when he's completely inside you, you're sitting in his lap. You move your hips, riding him, and he's thrusting up into you, his cock rubbing against your walls, hitting all the right places. He's groaning, and his fingers dig into your skin.

“That was so good, no one ever did that for me before, I didn't think I'd like it, but fuck, this was amazing," he's talking, and it sounds almost like he's drunk. Drunk on lust and emotions.

You start riding him, your hips moving, and he's thrusting up into you, his moans fill the room, and the sounds of your bodies moving together. The slap of skin against skin is the only sound, apart from his voice.

"Please, don't stop," he's begging, and his words are slurring, his movements becoming erratic. His back arches, his muscles tense, and his body starts to shake, his grip on your hips tightens, and his mouth falls open. "Oh god, fuck, fuck, please, oh god, please, please, please, please, oh god," his voice is hoarse, and then his hips are jerking, and his cock is throbbing and his eyes are squeezed shut, his body is shaking, his nails digging into your skin. He's gasping, and his cock pulses inside of you.

He's panting, his eyes are open, and he looks at you, his gaze unfocused. You lift your hips, and he slips out of you, his hands are resting on your hips, his grip still tight, and his breathing is laboured.

You roll off of him, and lie down next to him. When he reaches for you, you hold him. His body is trembling, and his heart is beating fast. He's breathing hard, and his eyes are closed.

"Wow, that was amazing," he mumbles.

"It was," you say, kissing his temple.

"I need to clean up, give me a second," he says, and he's trying to get up.

"Stay, I'll do it."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

He's smiling, eyes still closed, his head resting on the pillow, and his breathing is getting steadier again. You get up, and walk into the bathroom, and return with a washcloth.

"This was the best birthday present," he says, looking at you. “No candy underwear but you can’t have everything.”

"It was a pleasure."

"What about you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me, I came long before you.”

"You did?"

"Yes."

He smiles, and closes his eyes. You're cleaning him up, wiping away the sweat, and his come, and his eyelids flutter. You put the washcloth into the laundry basket, and crawl back into bed.

"I'll do something for you, just let me catch my breath," he says, his words are slurred, and his breathing is deep.

"There's no need," you whisper.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He nods, and he's snuggling closer to you before he drifts off to sleep.

"Happy birthday," you whisper, and press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he sighs contently.

*_____*

A couple of weeks later, you're sitting in the dressing room with Victoria after a show. He's sitting on a couch, his legs spread wide, and he's talking to someone. You can't hear what they're saying, but you're watching him. His smile, and the way his eyes light up, the way he talks. The way he moves his hands.

Victoria is next to you, she's watching you, and a smile is playing on her lips.

"You're staring," she says.

"Yes," you answer.

She's grinning.

"Do you need help?" She asks.

"No."

"I know a lot about him."

"I don't doubt it."

"I mean, if you wanted to surprise him," she says, and winks.

“Actually I would need your help,” you smile, “Valentine’s is coming up and I would like to do something. Something a bit romantic, and something a bit, you know, … sexy.”

She's grinning, and her eyes light up.

"Oh yes, I would love to help you with that."

"As long as it doesn’t involve edible underwear,” you laugh.

She looks at you confused.

"No, but why would you think that?"

"Thomas mentioned it. He was curious about it."

"Oh," she grins, "c’mon it would make him laugh. You’re both silly like that. Just do it as an extra little thing, a candy bra and some really nice lace panties.”

“You’re right, if nothing else it would make him laugh, and he would love it. Thank you, Vic, for all the help you gave me and I would be honoured to have your advice and assistance with this."

"So, what do you have planned so far?"

"I'll tell you, but first I need to ask Thomas if he has any plans for the day, because if he does, we have to plan around them."

"Sounds like a good idea," she agrees. “He’s a romantic, so I don’t think he has other than plans he might have come up with already, but I can interrogate him a little bit. So what’s the plan?”

“I want to cook with him at home. You know how he set off the fire alarms a few times when he tried cooking and I figured that we can try it together, and maybe I can help him, make sure that we won't have a repeat performance of those days. Maybe we can do it together, so he will actually learn something, or maybe we'll fail spectacularly together. Light some candles, maybe get a bit wine drunk. And then after dinner, maybe have a bath and then go to bed, have sex, cuddle. Just the two of us, and a nice relaxed evening. No stress, no worries, just us. What do you think?"

"It sounds great," Victoria smiles. "So, what are you going to cook?"

"We never really cooked together before, but I did some research and I found a recipe for a lasagne, that sounds really good. We should be able to manage that. Worst case scenario we’re ending up with take-out.”

“Great, I’ll let you know when I find something out.”

._____.

Later that day, you're in bed, you're naked, and his face is buried between your thighs, his tongue is lapping at your wetness. His fingers are inside of you, and he's working his tongue on your clit. You're arching your back, almost grinding against his mouth. He's humming, you can feel the vibrations, and his teeth graze your clit.

His tongue is flat moving down, licking the length of your folds, and he's nipping at the sensitive skin. His fingers are curling and rubbing against the sweet spot inside of you, and when his other hand moves from your hip, and his finger brushes over your entrance, your breath hitches.

"Fuck," you gasp.

"That's the plan," he says, his voice muffled.

"Fuck," you say again.

He chuckles and his finger slides into you, his tongue is teasing your clit. His lips wrap around your clit, and he's sucking gently. Your hands are on his head, your fingers running through his hair, and your hips are moving. He's fucking you, his fingers are curling and pressing, and his tongue is stroking and licking, and your body is tensing.

"Thomas, please," you beg.

He doesn't stop, and his finger pushes in and out of you, his lips wrapped around your clit, his tongue licking, and his fingers are hitting all the right places. You're arching, and your hips are moving, and you can feel the orgasm building up. Your muscles are clenching, your breath hitches, and your toes are curling. You're close, so close, and you're grinding against his mouth, and his finger is still moving inside you.

"Fuck, Thomas," you gasp, and you're coming.

Your body is tensing, and your eyes are squeezing shut, your back is arching. Your muscles clench, and your walls are gripping his finger, and he's still fucking you, and his lips are wrapped around your clit, his tongue licking and sucking. Your hips jerk, and you're shaking, and he just doesn't stop.

He's lapping and licking, and you're squirming, and your hips are bucking, and you're whimpering. His finger is pressing and pushing, and his tongue is lapping and stroking, and your back is arching. He's humming, and your breathing is ragged.

You're tugging at his hair, and you're whimpering.

"Thomas, please, I need a moment, please," you're panting.

He stops, and looks at you, his chin is glistening, and his eyes are dark, and there's a small smirk playing on his lips.

"Are you tired already?"

"Yes, very much, I need a break," you say.

"You'll get one," he says.

He gets up, and moves over you, and your bodies are touching, his weight on top of you, and his cock is hard and twitching against your thigh, and you reach between your bodies, and wrap your fingers around his shaft, and start stroking him. He's groaning, and his head falls forward, and he's burying his face in your neck. His breath is hot against your skin, and he's rocking his hips, his cock sliding through your fingers.

He's panting and gasping, and you can feel him throb, his precum is smearing across your stomach. He's thrusting his hips, and his breath is hitching like yours before. He's moving, his hips jerking, and he's pushing his cock into your hand, his body is shaking, and his fingers dig into the mattress.

"Please, I want to come inside you," he moans.

"Do it," you say, and his cock twitches, and you spread your legs a little wider, and guide him between your folds, and he's entering you slowly.

"Fuck," he moans, and his body is trembling.

"You're so wet," he gasps, and his eyes are closed.

You lift your legs, and wrap them around his waist, and he's completely inside you, and he's still for a moment. He's panting, his cock is pulsing, and his muscles are tensing, and he starts moving, his thrusts are shallow, and his eyes are closed, and his lips are slightly parted, and his hair is hanging in his face. His hands are on either side of your head, and his body is shaking.

"Thomas, look at me," you say.

He looks at you, his eyes are glassy, and his pupils are blown.

"I'm not made of glass, please fuck me."

"You're sure?"

"Yes, please," you beg, and you move, and wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He starts moving, his movements slow and deliberate, and his breathing is ragged, and his muscles are tense, he's gritting his teeth.

"Harder, please," you moan, and your hips are bucking - matching his thrusts. Your back is arching, and his eyes fall shut, and he's pushing into you, his thrusts are hard.

"Shit, oh fuck," he groans.

“God, so good, Thom, please," you gasp, and his body is trembling.

He's gasping and moaning, and he's leaning down, and kisses you, his mouth is on yours, and he's thrusting into you, his movements erratic, and his fingers are gripping the sheets.

"You're so beautiful," he pants, and his voice is raspy.

He's moving faster, and his cock is sliding in and out of you, his lips on yours, and his tongue is moving against yours. Your legs are shaking, and you can feel the pressure inside of you building again. The tension coils in your belly, you're getting closer, and your fingers dig into his shoulders. You're gasping, his name a breathy moan.

"Please, Thomas, please," you beg.

"Please, what?"

"I want to come, I'm close," you moan.

"I know, love, so am I, please, come for me," he gasps. “Come again, please.”

He's moving his hips, his thrusts are fast and hard, and you're gasping and moaning, and his movements become more erratic.

"Shit, I'm close," he moans.

Your muscles clench, and the tension in your belly is too much, you can't hold it any longer. You're coming, your body is shaking, you're crying out, your body is arching, and you're clinging to him. His cock is throbbing and twitching, and his hips are jerking, and he's coming. You're trembling, and his cock is still pulsing, and his body is shuddering, and his face is buried in your neck.

"Fuck," he groans.

"Yes, indeed," you breathe.

*_____*

“What are you doing on Valentine’s Day?” Vic asks him some days later just after they had dinner together.

“Yes, so I was thinking of taking her to Verona for a day or two. Or maybe go to the planetarium and have a nice dinner afterwards. What do you think?”

“It’s great, Thom. But maybe you should do Verona another time, take her to the planetarium and maybe don’t worry about dinner. Romantic night in, you know.”

“You know something I don’t know, don’t you? Okay, planetarium and romantic night in. Understood.”

She grins and gives him a kiss on the cheek.

._____.

It's Valentine's day and you're sitting on the couch together for breakfast. You made pancakes, edible and not burned. After you finish eating he's kissing you, and his arms are around your waist, his body is warm against yours. His lips are soft, and his breath is hot, and then he's pulling away from the kiss.

"I have a present for you," he says.

"So do I," you smile.

"Me first," he says, and his cheeks are red.

He's taking a little box from the cupboard, and gives it to you, and you open it, and there's a bracelet. A thin, golden bracelet with three charms. A tiny rose, a guitar, and a heart.

"Oh Thomas," you whisper. "Thank you, I love it."

"Really?"

"Yes."

You take the bracelet and put it on.

"It's so beautiful, thank you."

He's smiling, and there's a pink blush on his cheeks.

"And now your turn," he says.

You're going to your room and take a bigger, gift wrapped box, and give it to him, and he sits on the couch next to you opening it. In it is a knitted sweater, he takes it and he smiles. The sweater is pale blue, and has a white pattern of musical notes and stars on it.

"Oh, this is so beautiful," he whispers. “I can’t believe you knitted for me.”

"I'm glad you like it."

"I love it." He gives you a kiss, “and I thought we could go to the planetarium and I was told to have a romantic night in.”

“Yes, the night is my part of the plan.” You smile.

._____.

When you arrive at the planetarium it's almost empty. There's only a group of school children, a couple and a few people that seem to be there just to have a look around, but there's no guided tour and no lectures, so you're wandering around, looking at the exhibits, and watching the different shows while holding hands.

At some point, when the children have left and you're alone in the room, there's a show about the northern lights, and Thomas is staring at the ceiling. His eyes are sparkling, he smiles at you.

"One day I want to see them with you," he says.

"Someday, maybe."

"Yes, someday," he sighs, and smiles.

The lights dim, the show ends, and you're leaving the room. You're wandering through the hall, looking at the displays, and the pictures of the different constellations and galaxies, and stars. You're standing in front of the big picture of the milky way. Thomas is behind you, his arms are around your waist, nuzzling your neck.

“What’s your favourite,” he asks.

"You're my favourite," you whisper back.

"Your favourite galaxy, silly.”

"That would be still you," you say, and he kisses your neck.

"I’m also quite fond of you," he chuckles.

"So, which one is yours?"

"That would be the Orion nebula."

"Why that one?"

"Because of the colours and the beauty, and the fact that it's made from gas, dust and stardust, and the fact that it's a birthplace for stars, that makes it special to me."

You look at him.

“Maybe Ethan talked a lot about space lately and I think it might not be a galaxy, but it is still something related to the universe, so we’ll pretend that it still counts."

He's laughing and kisses you.

._____.

When you are back home and there's music playing, the lights are dim - the candles are flickering.

“I thought we could make lasagne together, have some wine, have a bath and later move to bed, have some more wine and then sleep or do other things."

He laughs.

"That sounds wonderful."

You start cooking together. Chopping, sizzling and at some point there's tomato sauce spilled, and tomato on the wall, and on the kitchen counter.

"Oops, sorry," he laughs.

"It's okay, I'll clean it up," you laugh.

You're cleaning up the mess, and then there's tomato on his face, and on his shirt, and you're still laughing. He's taking the bowl, puts it on the kitchen counter, and moves closer to you. He's leaning in, his lips touching yours, his hands are on your waist. His tongue is pushing against your lips and he's deepening the kiss.

“We should cook first, at least have the ragu sauce cooking,” you say between kisses.

"Yes, that's right," he whispers.

He's smiling and kisses your nose.

"Later," he says and winks, which makes you giggle.

You're making the ragu sauce, he's holding you from behind, his chin is on your shoulder, and his lips are against your neck.

"Do you need a hand?" He asks.

"No, the sauce is fine," you say, and his hands are roaming over your body, his mouth is on your neck, and he's nipping and kissing. His lips are brushing against your ear.

"Thomas, stop, or I won't be able to focus," you laugh.

"That's exactly what I'm hoping for," he chuckles. “Also don’t deny it but I saw that earlier. You checked out my ass when I bent down to take out the wine glasses and the bottle."

You smile and giggle.

"Yes, and I'm not even sorry, it's a really cute butt."

"Thanks, it's a gift from God, and I'm not even kidding."

You laugh and turn your head, your lips brush against his.

"Yes, it is."

He's laughing, and his fingers are digging into your waist.

"I love you," he says, his voice is low. His breath is warm against your skin. And his heart is beating against your back.

"I love you too."

He smiles and kisses you. Thomas’ hands are cupping your face and he's leaning his forehead against yours.

“Can we make out while the things in the pots are cooking and boiling, please, and maybe a bit later?"

You're giggling.

"Yes, I would like that," you say.

His lips are soft. His tongue is licking and sliding against yours, his hands are sliding over your body. Thomas’ touch is gentle. He's lifting you up on the kitchen counter and you're wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Can I touch your cute godsend butt," you ask, and his body is shaking with laughter.

"Yes, yes you can, and I would be offended if you didn't."

You're running your hands over his shoulders, down his back, right to his ass. Thomas’ hands are in your hair, his hips pressed against yours. His lips are sliding along your jaw, down your neck, and he's sucking at the spot just under your ear. His hardening cock is pressing against your core.

"Thom, the sauce will burn," you gasp.

"Right," he whispers, “but it’s not burning yet, let me kiss you some more."

"Okay," and with that he's deepening the kiss again.

His fingers are slipping under your skirt, his thumbs are brushing against the lace of your panties. His hand is sliding between your legs, he's slowly pushing the fabric aside, and his fingers are tracing along your folds, he's circling your entrance. And then his fingers are entering you, his thumb stroking over your clit.

"God, you're so wet," he moans.

"Thomas," you gasp.

"Mhm?"

"The sauce, it's burning."

"Shit," he curses. Then his hand is gone, he steps back and turns off the heat.

"Sorry." He gives you an apologetic little smile.

“Is this how you triggered the fire alarm before, cooking, and getting distracted?"

"Yeah, I tried to make dinner once, and I forgot to stir the sauce, and the next thing I knew the alarm was blaring."

“Making out? Or just distracted.”

“Just distracted, I wasn’t making out with anyone, I was alone in the flat, and had no idea why the alarm was going off, I was a little confused. It took a few seconds to figure out it was the food on the stove. Once or twice or maybe … more.”

"I'm not even surprised, and I can relate," you smile, and he grins.

"Sorry," he chuckles, and gives you a kiss, and his lips are lingering, and his tongue is licking against yours, and his teeth are scraping against your bottom lip, and his hands are sliding over your back.

"The sauce is safe now," he whispers, his nose is brushing against yours and his hands are in your hair.

"Let’s put together the lasagne and put it in the oven, then we can make out some more," you suggest.

"That sounds like a good plan," he says.

"Yes, very good plan, I know," you chuckle, his body is warm against yours..

You're finishing the lasagne, putting it in the oven and Thomas is setting the timer.

“Now I want more kisses," he looks at you.

He's kissing and sucking at your neck, his hands are pushing your skirt up, his fingers are pulling down your panties.

"Thom, we should wait until the lasagne is done," you whisper and he groans.

"Just a few minutes, please," he pleads, his other hand is gripping your thigh, his fingers digging into your flesh.

"Okay," you moan, his thumb is circling your clit not leaving you room to think.

"Thank you," he breathes. “Bedroom, we have a timer anyways. We will hear it, and can continue."

You nod, his hand is gone, and you're stumbling towards the bedroom. Kissing on your way and his hands are sliding under your shirt.

“Oh, is this …” he laughs, “finally what I wished for? Candy hearts in your bra?"

"Maybe," you laugh.

"I love it," he says.

"I thought, since it's valentine's day, and the edible underwear was a bit out of my comfort zone, maybe that’s close enough for you? Or too much? It's weird isn't it, I'm sorry," you say, and he shakes his head.

"No, not weird, I love it, and I'm so glad you did that for me," he says, and pulls away from the kiss. "You know what else I wanted?"

"Tell me," you say.

"This," he says, and sneaks his hand in your bra, and takes one of the candy hearts, and his hand is moving up, and the little heart is touching your lips.

"Open," he says, and you open your mouth, and his hand is moving up, and the heart is in your mouth.

"Now, can I take off the bra?" He asks.

"Yes, go ahead, you can eat the rest of the candy," you laugh, and he's pulling the cup down, and taking a candy heart with his tongue and he's biting it, and then his mouth is on yours.

"Delicious," he chuckles, and his eyes are sparkling.

"Yes, very," you smile.

"You're delicious," he says, and his mouth is on yours, and the taste of the candy and the wine is still on his lips, and his tongue is licking against yours.

His lips are moving along your jaw, and to your neck, and his mouth is sucking and kissing at the crook of your neck.

He's lying down, and you're straddling him, and he's reaching for your bra, and pulls it off. His hands are cupping your breasts, and his mouth is on the valley of your breasts, and his tongue is licking along your sternum, and his teeth are grazing against your nipple.

He's sucking, and his teeth are pinching and his tongue is flicking over the sensitive bud, and you're gasping and moaning.

His mouth is moving to the other breast, and his lips are closing around your nipple, and his mouth is warm and his breath is hot against your skin. He's sucking and his teeth are grazing against your hardening nipple, and his hands are on your back, and they're sliding over your hips.

“I think some of the hearts fell out of the bra," he chuckles.

"I can look for them later," you laugh, and he laughs, and kisses you.

"Yes, we'll find them later, now, can I lick the rest off of your body?"

"Yes, please, and feel free to use your teeth too," you whisper, and his tongue is licking along your neck, and over your collarbones, and his tongue is moving over the swell of your breasts. His teeth are grazing against your nipples, and his lips are brushing against the underside of your breasts, and his hand is cupping the other, and his thumb is rubbing over your nipple, and his tongue is moving lower, and his teeth are biting and sucking.

“Found one,” he says and nibbles it off your stomach.

He's licking lower, and his tongue is sliding along the edge of your panties. His mouth is on the lace, and his tongue is licking along the damp material, and his teeth pulling back the waistband with his teeth.

“I think you missed one.” You pull his head back to your bellybutton.

"Oh, yes," he breathes, and his tongue is swirling, and he's sucking and his teeth are nipping, and the candy is gone.

His hand is cupping your pussy, and his thumb is stroking over your folds through the damp fabric.

"Can I have a taste?" He asks, and his breath is hot against the damp lace, and you're nodding.

"Yes, please."

His hands are pushing the panties aside, and his fingers are brushing along your slit, and he's pushing two fingers inside, and curling them.

He's spreading your legs, and his tongue is flicking over your clit, and he's pushing his fingers deeper, and curling them, and stroking against your g spot.

"You taste so good," he moans. “Better than the candy."

"Yes," you gasp.

"And you're so wet, and hot, and soft."

"Thom," you moan, and his tongue is lapping over your clit, and his teeth are grazing against the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Come on my face, please," he moans, and his fingers are rubbing against your g spot, and his tongue is flicking against your clit, and his thumb is pressing down on the swollen bud.

"I'm almost there, don't stop," you moan.

"Good, come on my tongue," he growls, and his fingers are moving faster, and his tongue is licking over your clit. “Let me taste you."

"Yes, yes," you whimper.

"Yes, let me lick your sweet juices, come on," he moans, and his fingers are fucking you, and his tongue is stroking over your clit, and his eyes are fluttering open, and when he looks up at you, you’re tumbling over the edge, and your pussy is clenching around his fingers, and the wave of pleasure is crashing through you.

"Yes, that's it," he breathes. "I love it when you're coming on my face."

"I love it when you're licking me clean," you breathe.

He's laughing, and his mouth is sucking, and his tongue is licking, and he's swallowing your juices, and his tongue is licking into you.

“But now I would love to return the favour,” you’re pulling at his hair, “and taste you too."

He's groaning, and his eyes are shining, and his lips are curving into a smile.

"Yes, please, I would love that."

You're pushing him on his back, and he's lifting his hips, and pulling down his boxer briefs.

"What do you want me to do?"

"Touch me," he says.

"I am, but where do you want me to touch you," you say.

"Anywhere," he moans.

"What about here?" You run a finger over his hipbone.

"Yes," he whimpers.

"And here?" You lick his abs.

"God, yes," he moans.

"What about here?" You circle his cock.

"Yes, please."

"Here?" Your lips are wrapping around his cock, and your tongue is stroking over the crown.

"Fuck, yes," he groans.

"Where else, should I touch you?"

"On my thighs," he breathes.

"Okay," you say, and your fingers are stroking over his inner thigh, and your nails are dragging over the soft skin.

"There, please," he pants.

Your mouth is sinking down on his cock, and your tongue is swirling over the head.

"Yes, there, God, your mouth feels so good," he moans, and his fingers are in your hair.

Your fingers are stroking over his balls, and over his perineum, and his cock is pulsing in your mouth.

"There too," he whimpers.

You're circling his opening, and his hand is fisting your hair.

"Yes, there," he moans.

Your fingertip is circling his opening, and he's gasping and panting.

"Can I?"

"Yes, God yes," he says, and your finger is pressing into him, and your lips are sucking his cock, and his hips are pushing up.

"Fuck," he curses, and his hand is pulling you back down by your hair and his legs are shaking.

"Are you close?"

"Yes, keep going, I'm so close," he moans, and your finger is pumping into him, and your mouth is sinking down on his cock, and your tongue is flicking over the head, and his body is trembling.

"Faster, please," he begs, and your finger is curling, and his cock is pulsing, and his hips are thrusting, and his ass is clenching around your finger, and his cock is twitching and his cum is spilling over his belly, and his hand is tugging your hair.

"So good," he whispers.

"Good," you whisper, and his fingers are tracing along your cheek, and you're kissing his belly.

"We should get cleaned up," you say, and he's smiling and his hand is pulling you down for a kiss. “Shit, does it smell burnt in here? Shit, Thom, the lasagne."

"Shit, fuck," he says, and sits up, and gets off the bed, and pulls on his boxer briefs.

He's sprinting to the kitchen, and you're following him, and when he's opening the oven, there's a cloud of smoke coming out. And somehow a little baking paper inferno has formed, and you're not sure what happened, and it's smoking, and Thom is staring at it, and you're turning off the oven.

"I'm sorry, I think I left the baking tray I made pizza on yesterday in the oven, with the baking paper.”

“It’s fine, just open the window before the smoke alarm goes off and the fire brigade is your guest again.”

He opens the window, you put out the tiny flames, and the oven is full of black crumbs. But your lasagne is salvageable.

"It tastes amazing," you say, after the first bite.

"Yes, the sauce is so good," he says, and grins, and his foot is caressing your leg under the table. “Let’s sleep in tomorrow and just cuddle. Maybe we should start our own little tradition.”

“Okay,” you say looking curious.

“How about we make that day of the first fire alarm, when we talked to each other first, our day? Eat pancakes, talk, cuddle, almost burn down the house.

"That sounds perfect," you smile, and he smiles and kisses you.

……

Tag list: Taglist: @oro-e-diamanti, @iamtashaquinn, @teenyweenynightghost, @findaqueenwithoutaking, @foreveryking-thatdied, @findoutwhoyougonnacall , @sunlightbabe , @little-moonbeam-666 , @ethaneskin , @maneskin-dimensione , @l0standn0tf0und , @butkutee , @gr8rainbowpunk , @maneskintifoso , @hiraetheral , @imjustanerdwholikestoread , @cuzimitaliano , @hopelessromantic727 , @wonderlandishell , @paralianeyes , @que--sera--sera , @roisinlove123 , @romanoffswoman , @lovelyy-moonlight , @crwnnjules, @lizzylynch1 , @maneaterdoll, @imposter-27 , @soundscuntfeelscunt , @gaiagoddess26 , @lonnybunnys , @lexasaurs634 , @milfhunter889 , @shinshans

#thomas raggi x yn #thomas raggi x you #Thomas raggi imagine #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin #thomas raggi #måneskin #maneskin smut #maneskin fanfic #thomas raggi smut #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader

[writersblockiskillingme]

Ethan sharing his girlfriend/SO with his bandmates because she brought up the idea of group sex once. He doesn't tell her until she gets there and he comes back from the kitchen and whispers it in her ear when Damiano is feeling her up. She gets a little scared and leans on Ethan the entire time and he's right there reassuring her and making sure they don't do anything to make her uncomfortable while he's also joining in.

Three Makes a Group | Damiano David & Ethan Torchio

Pairing: Damiano David x Måneskin!reader x Ethan Torchio

Summary: After bringing up the idea of group sex to your boyfriend Ethan, you have to deal with the consequences of your dirty mind.

Warning/s: smut, just pure smut, spanking, prising, cum talk, dirty talk, dom!Ethan, pussy drunk Damiano, sub!reader, choking, name calling, group sex, threesome, swearing

Author's note: so this is the first time that I'm writing smut. Like... for real. And not only that, it's also the first time that I'm writing something poly. So, I'm sorry if it's bad, I really tried. Anyways, enjoy you, nasty. 😏

You didn't exactly remember that you were talking about that topic with your handsome boyfriend Ethan until a gorgeous frontman showed up at your house, more precisely your kitchen, for a reason that was extremely different than usually.

It was about a week ago when Ethan and you were watching some shitty move that somehow had more sex scenes than an actual plot. You were both snuggled up next to each other under the blanket placed on your sofa as you ate popcorn. Suddenly, just as you thought that a girl and that dude in the movie were about to finally have a normal civil conversation, they started to do everything, but talk. Another girl's love interest showed up and all three of them started to go at it. While watching that scene, you suddenly remembered one of your dirty fantasies.

You don't exactly know what the hell came over you when you started to speak about it with Ethan. It started out as a curious question when you asked him if he ever had group sex before he met you and if he did what was it like. You also said it so innocently that poor Ethan almost choked on his popcorn. But, no. It turned out that he never had group sex, but he said that it would probably be a great experience, sure. After that you simply said "okay" and completely dropped the topic. You felt embarrassed for one reason or another and Ethan felt completely shocked. He simply couldn't believe that you would just ask him that, but then dropped the topic like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like you didn't just ask him what group sex would feel like. It felt like you were asking him where the remote was. Ethan liked that. He found it very amusing. After that little, innocent, conversation, he couldn't get the idea of group sex with you out of his mind.

A few days after that eventful conversation, he suddenly got an idea with who the two of you could do it with. Damiano David, your fellow band member. It was perfect. Damiano and you kind of knew each other the longest and you were like best friends, but he knew very well that Damiano and you found each other attractive. But then again, can he blame you, really? He couldn't. And so he didn't. Instead, he found this situation as a perfect plan to finally get it on with Damiano and you.

And so, this is how you ended up here. Standing in the middle of your kitchen, leaning back again your kitchen counter as you listened to your boyfriend and your fellow band member's plan. Group sex. With the two of them. You were actually very found of that idea, but you were still kind of nervous. After all, you have never done that before. Ethan and Damiano sensed your hesitation and quickly started to reassure you.

"Don't worry, dove." Damiano whispered as he came closer to you and softly started to cerise your soft cheek. "If you don't want to do it we don't have to. But if you want to do it, you don't have to worry. Ethan and I will take good care of you."

"So what do you say, amore?" Ethan got behind you as he slowly, softly started to plant kisses on your neck, Damiano slowly moving your hair off of your shoulder so Ethan could get more access to your neck. You couldn't help but to let out a little whimper. It felt so good, you started to slowly, but surely, relax against the passionate hold of your fellow band mates.

"So what do you say, little love?" Ethan whispered in your ear. "Do you fancy the idea of having the two of us?" You felt yourself shiver as you slowly nodded your head against him as he continued to give you endless kisses and now marks on your neck.

"Words, princess." Damiano softly growled under his breath as his hand found itself suddenly wrapped around your neck. "Yes. I want you, both."

"To what?" Damiano continued to tease you endlessly and it was truly tortures for you. For all of you. But Damiano was a tease, both Ethan and you should have known that for a fact.

"To fuck me." You moaned loudly just wanting for this to start already.

"Good answer." Ethan said as literally picked you up and carried you to Ethan's and your bedroom. Damiano slowly trailing behind you.

Once you got inside, Ethan gently threw you on the middle of the bed as Damiano shut the door behind him. In a matter of seconds, your clothes where nowhere to be found. Not like any of you actually cared about that. As you laid there completely naked, Ethan and Damiano showed you with compliments and endless kisses and sucking and bitting.

You were enjoying yourself so much, you didn't know it could be that good. Suddenly, it seemed like non of you three could take this torture anymore. Damiano got up and walked to the end of the bed. Ethan was drowning you in a passionate kiss as you suddenly felt Damiano grab your legs and you were quickly, quite needy, pulled toward him. Ethan never stopped his attack on you as your legs were dramatically pulled apart.

"Now I want to hear you scream our names, little dove." Damiano ordered you as he suddenly dived into your folds.

He started to quite literally make out with your little wet cunt. It was so passionate and so hot that you could help yourself, but to practically scream. Ethan suddenly started to attack your soft breasts. It felt to good. One of your hands found itself tangled in Ethan's hair and your other hand was gripping the bed sheets. You felt like you were about to explode. It started to get so much that you quickly felt your lower stomach tighten.

"Ethan! Damiano! Ahh-" You moaned their names loudly. It felt as if, after they heard you moan like that, they didn't slow down one bit. They spead up. You thought that it would be impossible for them to go faster than they're already going, but it turned out that you were clearly wrong. "I'm gonna-! Ah!"

"We know. Let go, amore." Ethan encouraged you and so you did just that. You released all over Damiano's tongue as you tried to catch your breath. Ethan continued to kiss your chest as Damiano started to continued to suck you dry.

You started to moan again as you tried to push away from Damiano because of overstimulation, but Ethan kept you in place buy placing both of his strong hands on your hips. He pinned you to the bed so you couldn't escape Damiano's vicious tongue. Just as you were about to cum again, Damiano quickly pulled away and Ethan stopped his attack on you. Damiano stood up with a slight slap on your tigh, prising you about how good you were for Ethan and him, as you continued to paint from exhaustion and disappointment from a lost orgasm. Slowly, Ethan got behind you. He pressed your back against his chest as Damiano brought the two of you to the edge of the bed.

"Now breath, little one." Ethan continued to whispered in your ear, his breath hot you felt lime you could cum again from just that. It felt so hot. It felt so much. "Damiano is gonna have your pretty little tight pussy because poor baby doesn't get you like this very often." He told you and you softly moaned at the thought of Damiano completely destroying your little cunt, giving it to you because you were their little slut. Made for their pleasures. "And I will have this amazing ass. I will enter you right here, right now. From behind while our friend fucks you." Ethan told you and you felt a sharp slap on your rounded ass. You moaned from an impact as you felt him slowly shushing you as he gently rubbed the sore spot of your ass.

"Now relax, baby." Ethan said as he slowly started to trail his hand towards your neck. He wrapped your hand around your neck and you felt him tighten his hold on it as he said his next words.

"Damiano is going to completely destroy your pussy and I'm going to completely destroy your gorgeous ass. Were going to ruin you for everyone, but ourselves. And remember this, little dove." Ethan loudly commanded as he watched Damiano slowly line up to your entrance waiting for Ethan to give him a green light. "We won't stop until you are completely dripping with our cum and begging us to stop filling you up. We may not even stop then." Ethan whispered hotly in your ear as he pressed his thumb against your lips. You immediately started to suck on his thumb wishing it was his cock and Damiano moaned at the sight.

"Fucking slut." He chuckled as he pinched your left nipple watching you as you moaned some more.

"Now prepare yourself. This may hurt a little." And boy it did. The two of them were so big that your poor little pussy and ass barely took both of them inside. Damiano started to literally moan as he entered you.

"I can't believe that your so fucking tight." He cried a bit, completely at your mercy. He was so drunk off of the feeling of your pussy squeezing him, milking him dry. "I'm gonna fucking destroy you, princess, you won't be able to walk for days." He promised you as he started to slowly rub your clit to help you get used to the feeling of them.

Ethan was not so much different. You were practically melting against his hold. He kept his grip on your neck as he entered you. He started to breathe heavily as he felt like he could cum just from your tight ass struggling to keep him inside. He brought his hand down very fast and he felt you yelp from the impact before he started to rub your sore ass and kiss your exposed back. You felt like you were in the middle of life and death. It was just so good that you didn't want the pain to stop. Ever. Hot tears were streaming down your cheeks as Ethan kissed them away. Damiano and him barely kept it together, but they would never even dream of making you feel even slightest bit uncomfortable so they stood frozen on their spot. After a while you ordered them to move. You couldn't take it anymore.

They both started to rock their hips, slowly picking up the pace. You were moaning so loudly. Ethan's hand around your neck, the other one was placed around your ribs fucking into you at inhuman speed. Damiano's head was thrown back as one of his hands was holding your legs open as wide as they could go and his other hand was gripping at your hip. Ethan and Damiano could practically feel that they were touching each other inside of you. It was tortures for all three of you.

"Ugh! Damiano! Ethan!" You were moaning uncontrollably as you felt like the coil inside of you was about to snap. "I'm gonna-!" You didn't even get to finish you sentence as you came so hard on them both. They picked up their paice. You were moaning from overstimulation as they both came inside of you. After a while they both pulled out of you, watching your pussy tighten around nothing as both of your holes were leaking with their cum. They started to finger you softly as Damiano kept shushing you. You were moaning softly, exhausted and overstimulated. They both fucked their cum back inside of you. After they were satisfied with their job, both of them collapsed on the bed on each side of you. They covered you in kisses as you tried to catch your breath.

"Rest, amore. Were not done with you yet."

->

->

->

TAGLIST

@opal-rugger

#maneskin fanfiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin x reader #damiano david #damiano david x reader #maneskin #imagine #damiano david x you #ethan torchio #ethan torchio x you #ethan torchio x reader #x reader #x you #smut #maneskin!reader #damiano david imagine #damiano maneskin #ethan maneskin #maneskin smut #first time writing smut #first time writing something like this #damiano x reader x ethan #damiano x ethan #damiano x reader #ethan x reader #polysexual #anonymous #anon ask #damiano david smut #ethan torchio smut

[malina-33]

Femme Like You - Chapter 2

Chapter 1

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

Word count: 10,2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Immediately followed by:

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello my dear! How are you?"

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

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

"He assured me the boys liked you"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And I love you very much, hello mom"

"I'll pass it on, bye!"

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

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

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

"And how long do you look?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Mutually, Miss" Rowley said enchanted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 Coax me out my law

And have a spin of my propeller

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could swear your jaw was somewhere on the floor.

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

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

"Who doesn't like her?"

"Your truth" you nodded approvingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"All right, man" Turner said artificially.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"They'll kill each other"

"He doesn't stand a chance"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Why are you naked?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

Alex.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Deal, Miss Y/S"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What, for everyone?" Matt playfully refined.

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

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

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

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

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

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

xo🤍

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

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

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #am7 tour #the car era #am7 era #alex turner fanfic #matt helders #the car #alex turner fic #alex turner imagine #alex turner x you #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x reader #alex turner fanfiction #femme like you fanfic #nick o malley #jamie cook #maneskin #vic de angelis #damiano david

[taste-your-silhouette]

Pairings: Damiano David x fem!reader Contents: Fluff Summary: You’re at a party and you’re squabbling over a sofa with Damiano when he unintentionally reveals something while unaware that you’re eavesdropping  Words: ~1129 A/N: A touch of enemies to lovers for you all, because I love it!I should warm you that it contains some explicit language.Please, forgive me again if you come across any errors while reading. I hope you enjoy it 💙

I just wanna hold you close tonight

You're at your bestie's party, at her crib. Parties aren't really your thing, but there's no way to dodge one when your friend is the mastermind behind it.

The house is jam-packed, the music is blasting, and Vic, one of your pals, is rocking the DJ booth. Vic and Thomas, your childhood buddies, are also here, along with Ethan. You became friends with Ethan after he joined the band. As for Damiano... well, let's just say you and him are like acquaintances. You wouldn't exactly call him a friend because you both don't exactly hit it off. He tends to make you feel uneasy, so you try to avoid being in the same place as him whenever possible. Whenever his gaze meets yours, it's like all your defenses crumble, and you can't stand that feeling.

You've had a few sips, but not enough to get wasted, just enough to feel a little extra lively and adventurous. Everyone is having a blast, but all you crave is the comfort of your bed. As you navigate through the crowd, trying to escape small talk, you stumble upon a vacant couch in the living room. It's like a dream come true — all you want is to plop down and catch some Z's!

As you were about to reach the sofa, Damiano flings himself onto it, stretching his legs out and occupying the entire space.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you exclaim, giving him a stern look.

He gazes back at you, confused.

"What did I do?"

"I was going to sit there, you goofball."

"Oh, my bad, Y/N. Didn't realize you had plans."

You grumble angrily and retort:

"Move or I'll plop down and squish your head!"

"You know, that wouldn't be a half-bad idea. You sitting on my head, right over my mouth, to be precise," he smirks.

"You're repulsive. Get off the couch, Damiano."

"I've already told you no. Looks like you'll have to sit here by force."

You roll your eyes and throw yourself on top of him, engaging in a playful struggle to push each other off the couch. Suddenly, both of you freeze as you end up on his lap.

Damiano continues to stare at you, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, well."

You roll your eyes and simply say:

"Shut up, and you know what? You can stay right there, no need to move. You're surprisingly comfortable."

You push him, pressing his back against the couch, and then rest your head on his chest.

"Keep quiet, I'm tired," you practically command, closing your eyes.

Incredibly, he simply obeys your request.

//

You don't know exactly how long you've dozed off, but the party is still in full swing, and you're still sprawled on top of Damiano. Amidst all the noise, you can't hear his heart pounding, but you can feel the rhythmic beats.

"Is it the end of the world? You two getting along without exchanging insults," you hear Ethan remark.

"You say that because you didn't witness the battle it took to reach this point," Damiano retorts.

"Damiano, leave her be. Let's enjoy the party," a female voice you don't recognize calls out to Damiano.

You don't pay attention to what Damiano says, or perhaps he simply ignores the girl. With one hand resting on your head, you can faintly feel a gentle stroke through your hair.

He doesn't want to disturb your peaceful slumber. Seeing you so calm and serene lying on his lap is a sight he's never witnessed before. It's a far cry from the usual furrowed and stressed Y/N when you're together.

"Are you planning on staying there until the party is over?" the girl asks once more.

Damiano takes a deep breath and responds:

"Whether or not I stay here all night is none of your business."

Ethan lets out a faint chuckle and waits a few minutes before speaking up:

"Hey, Damiano. Deep down, you have feelings for her, don't you?"

You sense Damiano's heartbeat quicken. Could he be nervous about the question?

Damiano hesitates for a moment before finally admitting: 

"Yeah, I like her, all right? It's just that... she's complicated."

Ethan bursts into laughter.

"I knew it! It's as clear as day if you ask me. And I do not doubt that she likes you too."

Damiano's face lights up with a smile at the thought of his feelings being reciprocated by you. He has liked you since the day you first met, but he never quite knew how to express it. The playful banter and dynamic between you two became his way of catching your attention.

"I really hope so..." he murmurs as he rests his cheek against your head, inhaling the sweet fragrance of your hair. "Please, let her like me," Damiano whispers, almost inaudibly.

You let out a sleepy sigh, lazily opening and closing your eyes, but stay still, relishing the sensation of Damiano's heartbeat.

He likes you, and you heard him confess it. If you hadn't heard it directly from him, if Ethan or anyone else had told you, you would never have believed it.

One of your hands rests on Damiano's shoulder, and you glide it gently across his skin until you reach his neck, where you begin a tender caress.

With his other hand, free to move, Damiano strokes your arm and whispers in your ear,

"How long have you been awake?"

"I'm taking off," Ethan announces.

With your eyes still shut, you respond:

"It's not a big deal, but I heard you confess that you like me and want me to feel the same way."

"Look at me," Damiano requests.

You disregard his plea, not wanting to lose the sensation of his racing heartbeat.

"No, I want to keep feeling your heartbeat."

Damiano chuckles and gently holds your chin, directing your gaze toward him.

"You'll be able to feel it pounding over and over," he says.

You raise an eyebrow and inquire:

"Really?"

"Yes, ever since the day you entered my life, it's been racing at the mere thought of you. It's been yours all along, and you can hear or feel its rhythm whenever you want."

You smile widely and guide one of Damiano's hands to your chest, allowing him to feel your heartbeat as well.

It's just as fast as his.

"My heart dances the same tune. I suppose that's why I'm always on guard whenever I'm around you because my heart belongs to you too."

"Y/N..." Damiano begins, but you cut him off.

"Shh, if I recall correctly, I told you to hush, but it seems that proved challenging for you..."

Before you can finish your sentence, Damiano pulls you into a kiss.

It's a kiss filled with unbridled passion. A kiss that should have taken place ages ago.

#damiano david #må #måneskin #damiano måneskin #damiano david x reader #damiano david x you #maneskin imagine

[marlena-immortale]

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

[agendabymooner]

gossip ! daniel r. x ofc (måneskin member!ofc)

“ sip the gossip, drink ‘til you choke ”

summary: everyone thinks that lorelei hester ‘lester’ alessandro's character isn’t good for an image of an f1 driver. all because she's more confident in her own body and her trusting relationship with danny ricciardo. she fights her own battles while her boyfriend acts as her moral support idiot. OR lester shows a way to handle the hatred shown to her while danny cheers her up with his typical off-track tomfoolery.

content warning: slutshaming (it's 2023 guys, know better), a whole lot of original characters' interaction w/ other ocs, shitty grammar, brief fandom crossovers (through original characters), explicit language, allusion to smut, supportive and slightly unhinged!danny ric, danny who doesn't like getting called a friend by his own girlfriend, one criminal minds reference, and two haters but let’s multiply them into 100 because I don’t have enough space for new accounts at my app :(

note: i also got some toto wolff content hidden too lol but the characters in that one are connected in some ways. lester is also connected to the characters in my toto series but uh... yeah! enjoy! let me know what you think!

loressandro tweeted !

loressandro tweeted !

bonus tweets !

brief translations from the messages:

tasso di miele = my honey badger

ti amo, il mio tasso = i love you, my badger

mandami dei nudi dopo = send some nudes later?

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