#Damiano David/original character | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bethanysnow · 1 year

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I posted 3,257 times in 2022

That's 420 more posts than 2021!

194 posts created (6%)

3,063 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@icarodamianoiano

@8iunie

@aces-and-animeime

@maneskinbrainrotrot

@vicsdeangelisngelis

I tagged 476 of my posts in 2022

#my boy - 58 posts

#ask - 51 posts

#maneskin - 34 posts

#ethan torchio - 29 posts

#måneskin - 28 posts

#damiano david - 25 posts

#thomas raggi - 23 posts

#works by me - 19 posts

#manz - 16 posts

#history - 16 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#looks like the goth version of that green bird in new zealand or something that fucked the photographers head while his friends all laughed

My Top Posts in 2022:

Crying on prom night. prt 1.

(this happens the year before S4)

Eddie Munson wasn’t what you would call a ‘participant’ in social norms. Stood on his soap box many times about how everything is there to kill creativity and freedom and individual expression. This was his year after all! And he was going to make a point and not go to Prom.

Thinking this of course staring at the poster for ‘Under the stars Prom night’. He scoffed. Such a fucking dumb theme. Should be like....vampires or something. Eddie walked to the spot behind the bleachers and lit a cigarette before class where he normally met with Y/n. The girl of his dreams- just she didn’t know that. She didn’t need to. He didn’t want her to know! Stop asking!

....

anyway-

She was just his friend. Originally assigned to help tutor him with English they became inseparable. With Hellfire club when he adopted all the lost sheep it became a thing half jokingly of he was Dad and she was Mom. Y/n drove a pinto that fit about most everyone in Hellfire with space for snacks. Eddie could tell she had arrived as Elton John or Abba or some pop trash was coming up from the side parking lot. Turning his head to see the girl get out of her car and walk to where she knew he would be. God she was beautiful.

Y/n wasn’t what you’d call conventional. Conventionally attractive, conventionally intelligent, she was a great student just had horrible grades. She didn’t subscribe to the diet culture or the idea’s on the radio or magazines that thinness was the goal to be worthy of shit. It was fucking bullshit and they both knew it. The popular kids though never got that, making it their mission to ruin peoples day. Eddie knew he was in love with her when she stood up to Jason and his goons.

“What are you gonna do about it you fat fuck?” Jason yelled in her face.

“What am I going to do about what? Jason- sweetheart you are a couple years away from loosing your hair and missing the glory days so I’d suggest you shut up and leave me alone-” Y/n stated, so calm but stern as all the eyes in the cafeteria turned to look.

“And what if I don't? You gonna cry about it? Run off to that freak boyfriend of yours? Make freak babies in that van? Hahaha- I just wanna know what you see in him? Then I’ll get out of your way-” Shrugging and making a grand motion like a actor on stage.

“Me? Well 1. Eddie isn’t my boyfriend and 2. I bet hes got a bigger dick than you and that's why your obsessed- hmm that’s it isn’t it? You can’t stand that people outside of the culture here are living happy lives. Because you are gonna be fucking wasting air and die of a heart attack by your mid 50′s and daddy’s money won’t last that long now will it?” She cooed at the man standing above her. “Ahh tough luck-”

The rest of the basketball team started to arrive behind him crowding her vision. Jason rolls back spitting on her face. She simply wipes it off, setting down her lunch bag on a nearby table. Staring into the boys eyes. As he stares back waiting for a response- pain....all he feels is pain...in his dick. Wincing he clutches his crotch and falls to the ground on his knees as the wind is knocked out of him. She leans down real close to his face.

“Get in my way again I will cut your bits off and throw them in the locker room so everyone can see just how small you are....k?” Returning to that once customer service smile she grabs her lunch and walks to the hellfire table. Eddie having watched this entire interaction has now a raging boner and his heart beating outside his chest.

Fuck!

“Hey honey!” Y/n smiled as she greeted the guitarist. He was always honey, hon, honey-bun, some form of that. He asked why once, but never got a reply from her straight out.

“Mornin birdy- want one?” Offering her a smoke. She shook her head no motioning to her outfit. She was always birdy, or song bird, blue bird, anything that sang. Because while Eddie could kind of hold a tune Y/n sang. Now admittedly it wasn’t like the folks on the radio, but it made her smile and that’s all Eddie needed.

“Mom’s got family pictures at the mall after school and if she smells I’ve been smoking she’ll have my head. Not exactly how I want to spend an evening. But- you know-” Eddie looked down her body and he couldn’t help but laugh, A white and yellow striped dress with brown penny loafers? Nothing like what he knew his girl liked. “Yea yea I know- It’s awful! I look like im in the sears catalog!” Rolling her eyes “She wouldn’t even let me use black eyeliner!” Putting a hand on her hip and pinching her nose “Y/n I raised you better than that- I didn’t say anything when you started hanging out with those...hooligans but this is for family photos and you need to look nice” Mimicking her mothers voice.

Eddie was bent over laughing trying to not fall over. Standing up he clasped his hands behind his back and pretended to push up imaginary glasses “Yes Y/n that Munson boy is a bad influence-” mocking her father. Both of them were in a fit of giggles till they were interrupted by the bell. Stomping out the smoke they went inside.

Walking down the hallway the prom committee were busy vandalizing the hallways with silver stars and navy blue construction paper. Eddie rolled his eyes and Y/n noticed.

“What? you not going to prom?” She asked.

“Why should I? Its a gathering of the student body in effort to recreate a coming of age ritual- its stupid. I am a man because I say so! Also- its tacky”

“Says the guy who thought zebra striped pants was a good look for the summer. But I thought-”

“-NO! it totally was! You just didn’t see my vision!” Slapping a hand on her shoulder as he stopped in front of Mrs. Price’s science class. “I will see you at lunch yes?” She nodded and he grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles “Till then my lady~” grinning as he walked in the door.

Y/n sighed as she took out two slips of paper from her bag. Yea- maybe at lunch she could ask him.

Admin 2. Hawkins high school

Prom: ‘Under the stars’

63 notes - Posted July 30, 2022

Crying on Prom night prt. 2

The groups that made up Hawkins social hierarchy fled to the cafeteria. Jocks, nerds, popular kids, rejects…... everyone else. It made the small-town Indiana circle of life. Eddie and hellfire club in their matching shirts sat at their table. While Y/n was coming in a bit later to take her seat on the right-hand side of their leader.

“Who are you?” Gareth asked with a mischievous glint in his eye “didn’t think we let normie’s at our table- “

Eddie threw a pretzel at his friend’s head.

“Overlord’s have demands. There are things we must make peace with or else we will suffer even more” Y/n explained to the table. Overlords were the shorthand for any parental figure the hellfire club had attachments too. Y/n’s parents were nice people, just very well to do and interested in keeping up appearances. “If you think I look like a normie then my disguise must really be working” she smirked.

Eddie glanced over his best friend again. It was rare to see her in a dress, thought she looked…. well rather pretty. Not like that was a weird thing to think about your friends. No not at all. She just- it was different. Not different bad, just- not her normal thing.

Seeing Eddie look at her she thought this would be her opportunity.

“Speaking of…normie stuff uh- Munson…I was thinking- “

As she goes to pick up her bag with the tickets in them the fire alarm starts ringing as a dweeb from detention tries to escape the principal. Everyone starts running out of the building, yelling, panicking, because what else is there to do? Eddie seeing the chaos that’s happening grins and takes Y/ns hand. Sneaking off to the parking lot where his van is he is victorious!

“What are you doing? Eddie we still have class- “

“What is class? I have rescued a fair maiden from the clutches of the monstrous dire Hawk!” Motioning to the front entrance to Hawkin’s high school. Giggling to himself he watches as Y/n rolls her eyes. Leaning against his van he lights up the half cigarette from this morning. “Besides- its gonna take them an hour before they get anything done with kids everywhere.”

Shrugging she looks at Eddie, then back at the ground. “Honey I’ve been meaning to ask you something- uh why do you not want to go to Prom?”

The look on the boys’ face read more ‘you’ve got to be fucking with me’ than ‘isn’t it obvious’ but it’ll do.

“…...uh cuz it is stupid? Night under the stars? I can go to the lake if I wanna see stars. Not the fake paper ones they made. Why? You wanna go?”

“Maybe- “

“Y/n- Maybe??? you’re fucking with me…you can’t go to prom. I won’t allow it. It’s a part of the establishment here to dictate what we do- what? You want to go late at night to school in some itchy dress that will probably look bad while your date is in a monkey suit?” From the small utterance of maybe Eddie’s heart sank. Feeling like some kind of betrayal of ethics that he stood for. Also, the idea of her going to Prom made his skin crawl, not the her going, but her going with someone not him. Just he didn’t have the balls to ask her and he knew it.

“Eddie! I don’t need your permission to do shit. You aren’t my dad! What the fuck? I asked cuz I had an extra ticket and wanted to go with you. And I would look fucking amazing in a prom dress fuck you! But if you are so high and mighty on your horse then I will go with someone else oh great sire. Sorry for bothering his lordship! Ugh!” Y/n ranted stomping off towards the school.

…. fuck….

Eddie turned a sickly shade paler than his already pale complexion as Y/n stormed off. He didn’t mean to say that- he didn’t he genuinely didn’t. Getting hot under the collar and wanting to ask her out himself had him in a tail spin. He had a plan; he’d get some flowers or play a song he knew she liked then ask her. He just didn’t see that coming. He panicked.

How is he gonna fix this?

Y/n would have none of it. School can fuck off. He said she wouldn’t look good in a prom dress! Whatever holier than thou bullshit bite him today she would have no part of it. Walking to her car she got in and zipped out of the parking lot. She was going to go home and would deal with her mom later. Y/n needed to be alone.

Getting to the L/n residence the lights were on. Mrs. L/n was busy in the kitchen making lunch for the two youngest. A set of twins that were not planned, but so thoroughly loved it took most of her mothers’ attention. Walking in with the front door slamming it shut.

“Y/n?? That you sweetheart? Shouldn’t you be at school?” Mrs. L/n asked concerned walking out of the kitchen seeing the last traces of the yellow and white sundress go up the stairs.

“I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT!” Y/n shouted down the stairs and went to her room.

Y/n’s room was what you’d assume of a girl her age would like. Carpeted floor, a double bed with yellow floral bed sheets and stuffed animals up by the headboard. A poster of the animated Lord of the Rings, a flyer for Corroded Coffin’s latest show, figurines of ‘The last Unicorn’. Which was the first real outing both Y/n and Eddie took by themselves to the movies. He demanded to be the one to buy popcorn, though both of them knew she was the one who could afford it. Throwing herself on the bed she sobbed into her pillow. Her lilac prom dress hung on the back of the door.

Since none of the shops around Hawkins sold dresses in her size, she either had to make her own, or go to some big city nearby to buy one. So, a set of bed sheets was sacrificed to the cause. Recreating the Lady Amalthea look from ‘The Last Unicorn’ wasn’t the most in fashion, but it made Y/n feel pretty. Like a real medieval maiden waiting for her prince charming. As this dress stared back at her there was the undeniable itch to cut it up, stain it black, rip it apart. She spent so many nights after school, after Hellfire club, sewing.

“Y/n…sweetie?” Her mom cooed from the other side of the door.

“What?!” Y/n groaned burying her face into a pillow.

“Is this about that Munson boy? I know you really like him- did something happen?” Her mom asked opening the door a crack. Seeing her daughter in tears she rushed in and scooped her up in her arms. “What happened? Did he hurt you? Did he say something? You know I can call the school- “

See the full post

97 notes - Posted August 3, 2022

121 notes - Posted February 7, 2022

Such a drama queen lol

155 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Eddie munson headcannon:

Let's say the thing that happened didnt happen- [as to be spoiler free as possible] and hes like okay fine doesnt graduate but he moves on and works at a music store a couple towns over and meets this girl. YOU CANNOT TELL ME IM WRONG that this man wouldnt fall head over heels for a fat chick! Like- not even a "pretty" fat girl either- like large stomach maybe smaller tits and thighs! Oh her thighs kill him. She might work at like at a elementary school as a teacher and she goes to the music store looking for something to listen to on the way to work with her cassette player. He flirts with her for months till he gets the nerve to ask her out. They get together and eventually she helps him get his GED and he moves into her apartment. And they get married and everyone is there! Everyone! And it's this rock n roll wedding of him wearing a leather jacket instead of a blazer. She wears a long white summer dress with a veil and some grocery store flowers. Cuz its them! They dont need a big wedding and they get a pitbull and name him Gandalf the grey. And she helps him with his ptsd of the upside down and he helps her when she gets overwhelmed with work and ahhhhhh I'm dead.

182 notes - Posted July 10, 2022

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filthforfriends · 3 years

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Carmel Freckles and Other Places to Put Your Tongue

Thomas x original female character

Word count: 2296

Summary: Ironically, Piper wouldn’t have met Thomas in Rome if she hadn’t almost fucked Damiano the night previous. She was in LA to see her boyfriend, but things keep getting in the way of appeasing Piper’s libido. Traffic, writing sessions, Damiano drama, and time. Falling for Thomas felt like falling into place, but memories weren’t enough to sustain a relationship.

TW: sex, swearing, alcohol, weed, angst, conflict

Piper was half way through her sleep cycle by the time Thomas came back. She’d touched down in LAX at 9pm the day prior, with a layover in London, whose plane was delayed. Customs made Piper think that God had chosen right now to punish her for the impure thoughts of Thomas that had addled her mind for the entirety of her flight. She’d written down the dirtiest of them in her journal, maybe to leave for him, when she flew back almost a month from now. However, Piper knew she wouldn’t have that patience when she could torment Thomas so deliciously tangibly and in the flesh. She’d forced herself not to think about where this journey would end, because if she did, she’d get so excited that the hours of wait would be unbearable.

However, now, standing on the concrete of the same continent as him, Piper felt like a live wire, exposed to taking in the energy around it. The smile of the man at the Hertz car rental stand seemed sweeter. The insesinst traffic agitated Piper even more than usual. At least she could drive in her home country. Ubering across European countries was bougie until Piper learned that the taxi list included Italy. Her boyfriend may have a license, but by the time Thomas should have been practicing, he was already knee deep in a music career. Like a tractor, Thomas’s driving, while legal, was definitely not road safe.

Piper didn’t know the city, or even the state, but she daydreamed that she was driving around with her boyfriend. Thomas developed these caramel colored freckles under his eyes when he got enough sun. The sight made her downright ferrell. His hair got blonder, and in her mind’s eye, the window was down and the wind was blowing it off his cheekbones. Everytime Piper held Thomas’s face between her hands, she used her fingers to push his hair back. The others were beautiful, but Tommy was handsome, and he covered that like it was a flaw. It wasn't.

She would only call him Tommy in her head. He hated it (for now). However, Piper insisted that Tommy Raggi had a rockstar ring to it, especially when you roll the “R” a little extra.. She imagined some award show mishap where the performance guitarist was indisposed and the artist was going to be forced to use playback. Instead he--it was usually Ringo Star--would welcome a young guest musician who’d stepped in at the last moment.

“Please welcome special guest guitarist Tommy Raggi!” And then after her boyfriend had melted the faces of onlookers with his epic musicianship Ringo or whomever would thank him. “I don’t know what they’re putting in the water these days, but this kid is one hell of a musician. He jumped in at the last second and made it work, so let's hear a round of applause for my young friend!” Piper would be going ballistic from the wings. When her fantasy really got going there was some comment that they hadn’t heard playing like Thomas’s since the 70’s, a standing ovation, and sex in the bathroom directly afterwards. Sure Piper was concerned she had maladaptive daydreaming disorder, but what the hell else was she supposed to do in traffic?

She’d try to avoid driving Thomas through this shit, but then the idea of being stuck in a car with her boyfriend super glued itself to her frontal lobe. She’d be finally able to smell him: shampoo, shaving cream, moisturizer, cologne, deodorant, and sweat. Kaitlyn, her closest friend, had always said that you know you’re really attracted to a guy when you like the smell of his sweat. Piper didn’t get it until Tommy. Sometimes, when they’d fuck in the heat Piper would pull him down and press her nose against his neck to smell his pheramones. She loves when they’re slick with sweat and Thomas is sheathed inside her to the hilt. Its gross, so fucking hot, and gives a delicious ache. Piper sucks not to bruise, but to taste. She’ll take mental notes of the soft, fragile skin on his neck, textured with pores. Piper counted Tommy’s pores with her mouth.

Driving down the interstate, all caramel freckles, blond hair blown back, exposed forehead, sun kissed cheeks, burned nose, and the naked planes of his chest. Thomas’s creamy skin filled up the car. This was her body’s anthem and Piper wanted to taste the salt of Thomas’s sweat when she licked it off his body. In all honesty, Piper wanted to give Tommy a bath with her tongue, but she was stuck behind a dusty minivan on I-5 going 40mph in a 60 zone. Which sure, wasn’t that bad since it was past 10pm. However, the baby on board bumper sticker on the car in front of Piper made her thoughts feel downright sacreligious. Piper was jolted out of said thoughts when she had to slam on her brakes. Apparently, regardless of whether there’re children in the car, people still don’t use their fucking turn signal!

Of course when she got to his apartment things were good. They were good all night and good when they slept in late. Thomas missed half of their first writing session of today, which was an issue since having quality time to devote to music was a rarity. Like most things, it became an issue because Damiano made it so. It may be a bit simplistic, but if Damiano held himself to the same standard he sometimes does his bandmates, he’d actually be the demigod he fancies himself. Piper respected that Dami’s passion and emotional intensity are what made the songs and performances work. However, there were some days where it just looked like mood swings. On those days it seemed that if Damiano was any more a martyr, he might throw his back out of strain a tendon in his other hand too.

You told Thomas as much today over a cynical text diatribe while he was at the studio. You got a snapchat notification from Vic and momentarily panicked, then realized she’d find the text contents hilarious too. Fuck so would Damiano. A bit of teasing was necessary to keep him in check. The Snapchat was a video she’d taken in an idle moment, of Thomas on his phone. His eyes ran back and forth across the screen as he read. Piper realized that Vic had, out of coincidence, taken the video while her boyfriend was seeing her message. Tommy’s face evolved from a quiet smile, to a huff of surprise, to an outright laugh, which he tried to keep under control, hand over his mouth as his rib cage quivered.

Damiano walked into the room, saw Thomas, and goodnaturedly questioned “what are you laughing at?” He was out of frame, but his voice was totally innocent. Like school children, Vic started to laugh too and then Thomas gave in, rolling flat on his back, arms thrown out wide on the insulated studio floor like a snow angel. The only word was “You?” The brother-sister relationship between Victoria and Thomas was the core of the band dynamic, in Piper’s opinion. Also in Piper’s opinion, this was no way to make an album, sandwiched between two looming tours. Any spats could be prevented if they had time to be human beings. But that wasn’t profitable.

Her friendship with Damiano informed her of band dynamics.In a time of pressure, he was going to take all the good and all upon himself, feeling like it was his duty. He would try to shield everyone out of love, not realizing no one asked to be shielded, even if they needed to be. Then, Damiano would feel hurt when all the stress endured on behalf of his band members went unthanked. Meanwhile, they’re wondering why Damia has an ego so big he demands gratitude out of the blue. He’s yelling, so upset that there are tears on his cheeks, and for what? Victoria was the best salve for this kind of wound. There existed an inexplicable bond: sexual, friendship, familial, even spiritual. It was none of these things and also all of them at the same time. Piper knew because she had met Damiano in one of his episodes as an Italian exchange student. Listening to men cry at a bar was pretty far down on her list, but his words were beautiful, as was he, and so magnetic.

“Americana bella,” he purred, stroking her face with the back of his hand. The husk in his voice couldn’t hide his words from slurring. The light reflected off the gold cross hanging from his neck, like a movie. When Piper could smell the alcohol on his breath, she knew he was in trouble, not because he was too close, but because she couldn’t discern the smell of any particular liquor. Damiano had been mixing, which was lethal.

When they danced, it was as though Dami were dancing with her, around her, and with the music itself. She’d thought that Damia was the embodiment of what she craved: passionate, artistic, fiery, a bit crazy, with beautiful eyes. Now, Piper thanks the heavens they didn’t have sex that night. His phone was going off so frequently that Piper knew he was dearly missed. He refused to go back home after the fight, but was too trashed to get himself a hotel room. So, Piper propped him on her couch with a blanket, a bucket, and a prayer in her heart that he wouldn’t puke on the carpet. The next morning, a chipper Damia thought she was so great that he invited her on a picnic with his bandmates, whom he’d made up with over the phone.

Tourists and locals mixing was typical in the cities of friendly countries. The language barrier often made things interesting. Like right now, walking with Dami on the grass, weaving through groups of college students smoking. Besides a hug, he hadn’t touched her, not even brushing hands. Piper didn’t really question it when he’d slipped out that morning, but it was past noon and devoid of a hangover, so did they not almost fuck last night?

“How much of last night do you remember?” she asked, hinting.

“Oh, all of it I think,” he said kindly. The words were warm, but not outright flirtatious.

“Cool. Thanks for not puking on my floor.” He laughed, looking a bit shy or self conscious.

“I can usually handle my alcohol, I promise. Thank you for letting me sleep on your couch. I hope I wasn’t um-” Damiano lit a cigarette, searching for the words.

“You weren’t.” Piper returned with a reassuring smile. His lips pursed around the filter and cheeks hollowed as he took a pull. His face was almost too angular to be attractive. She was starting to realize that she had confused fiery sexual chemistry with drinking whiskey with a beautiful companion while horny. Damia had probably done this enough times to pick up on that before her.

“I’d like to be friends and maybe have some fun,” he insinuated, bashfully, “or maybe not. Either way you’re a cool person, y’know?” He was giving her a choice and wouldn’t punish her for making it either way. Of course she didn’t recognize this behavior from a man, she was from Tennessee.

“Yeah, I feel the same.” A weight seemed to lift from Damiano and the tension in the air dissolved.

“Okay,” he said, a full smile coming easy. “So my bandmates-” he motioned with his hand in the place of proper grammar, “Victoria, Thomas, and Ethan. I think Victoria brought couple friends and it will also be Leo as well. See, right up there.” He pointed to a group sitting on a ratty Bob Marley blanket. A blond girl got up and embraced Dami as soon as they came upon them. This seemed to settle something and the group visibly relaxed, slouching against the tree, on the blanket, against grass. First, a boy who looked Indigenous American introduced himself as Ethan. The guy next to him was laying on his stomach, propped up on denim clad elbows, running blades of grass between his pointer finger and thumb. Ethan stared at the boy, waiting a beat for him to introduce himself.

“Thomas! Tom-” he looked to Ethan, then directly up at Piper, and then never ever looked away.

“Hey, I’m Thomas,” he had the thickest accent when he spoke. Piper yearned to keep looking at his face. It felt strange to stand above someone laying down, so she sat. They never broke eye contact, his gaze watchful and entranced. Piper crouched in the grass and Thomas pushed up to his hands and sat back on his heels. They held each other's gaze, the act of doing so while Thomas rearranged his body was somehow intimate. He grabbed Piper’s elbow and pulled her closer. He wanted to know how it’d feel to touch her.

“On the blanket” he murmured, “it’s better.” Piper scootered forward on her knees and looked into his eyes again. Thomas had beautiful eyes, there was no doubt. The light through the branches of the trees hit his face just right, and Piper stared at the green in the golden brown of his irises. Tommy’s eyes were emotional, empathetic, compelling, and most of all intense. All her life Piper had thought that for a man to be exciting he must also be fiery. As such, each man burned her to the bone. In this very precise moment, she realized that all along she’d been wrong. Thomas’s intensity was solid ground, it was the earth washed clean after the storm. Exciting, fucking electrifying, his eyes made Piper’s believe in the existence of the soul.

Work: Tommy (1/?)

Notes: My first time posting fanfiction so I’d love feedback! I will have this posted on AO3 in a couple weeks under the same title.

Masterlist

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ykaaaras · 1 year

Text

The Preacher: Chapter 1

Pairing: DAMIANO DAVID x fictional female insert

Chapter summary: After badly incident, Damiano helps Medusa to remember what had happened.

Content: angst, hurt/comfort, priest Damiano David, supernatural, mention of religion, mention of possession, a little bit of fluff, anxiety, fear, hospital

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: mention of suicide, mention of homicide

Medusa woke up in pain. Her legs felt numb and her half-open eyes were flickering painful bright light flashes. She couldn’t remember what had happened. Medusa tried to move. The pain just got even more intense and Medusa decided to stay in her position and wait till someone found her. On the other hand, she knew that she must get up because otherwise, she could be found by someone she wouldn’t expect to be found by. She couldn’t recall why she was laying here. Did someone try to kill her? Or maybe she tried to kill herself? Medusa released a quiet sigh full of pain. It was hard to even open her eyes fully. However, she had to find out where she was laying.

When she opened her eyes, the view didn’t focus immediately. But soon she realized that she was laying on cement paving. Somewhere above her head prevailed big noise. Far away on the horizon, she could see the rows of apartment buildings. Also, Medusa comprehended that she layed near water. Because of her perception of where she was Medusa felt cold and she started to shiver. She still couldn’t move her legs. She wanted to shout, but it would probably be hopeless and even impossible. Her mouth was locked. Someone should take her from here.

Finally, Medusa slowly and sorrowfully began to roll on her back. When she succeeded, above her she didn’t see the sky, but the hood of steal, which covered whole her eyesight. Medusa snored another sigh. What if her bones are broken, was the first thought after she got a little bit conscious. The pain was unbearable for real. She tried to kill herself, she remembered finally, and she got too scared. She didn’t succeed? Or maybe she was in hell? Suddenly she heard steps approaching, the sound of shoes clapping on the paving, while they were getting closer to her. Medusa got scared and closed her eyes, she wanted to let whatever that was think that she was dead. Her wish to be found suddenly disappeared. She was worrying that it wasn't the help that was coming. To be honest, she understood that she was rather dead.

The footsteps approached even more. Medusa put all the strength into herself and her body so she wouldn’t move, pant, or breathe even though it was very hard. The sleeve of her yellow hoodie was bloody and she couldn’t pay attention anywhere else. Blood, that means something was broken. But it would be stupid to hope that she’s whole, she fell from the bridge it was weird that she was alive in general. Someone stood beside her. Medusa got deadly scared. She felt that there were three men and a girl. Medusa tried to convince herself that she never met any of them, but deep inside she felt like she knew them from somewhere. They observed Medusa for some time. Then the girl leaned in front of Medusa, but she didn’t squat, just stood.

“You think she’s alive?” asked her.

It prevailed a little, short silence among them. They were watching every shudder of Medusa, and she wondered how obvious that she was alive.

“I don’t know. Check it,” answered one of the men.

“Isn’t it obvious, can’t you see that she’s breathing?” the man who said it seemed quite perspicacious, or Medusa just couldn’t hide well enough. “Check her pulse, Victoria.”

Victoria squatted down and put two of her fingers on Medusa’s neck near her jawline. Feeling cold Victoria’s fingers Medusa flinched unwillingly. She felt how Victoria smiles.

“Alive,” informed and stood up.

Victoria — thought Medusa — a name so heard and voice very not of the stranger. Who was she? And what they intended to do to Medusa? Now there’s no point in pretending. She loudly moaned with fear and pain. Couldn't speak. When she tried to say something, she just felt that she gargled with blood. She hardly opened her eyes again and began to look around. At first, she was scared to turn her eyes to strangers. But when she dared, her eyes expanded even though it was painful. She saw them somewhere for real. But where the fuck? There was a man with long, black hair, the other was tall and blond, Victoria, and then it seemed there was... a priest? He wore a white collar that is worn by priests and he had a little pendant with a cross on his neck. Medusa frowned as much as her strength let. He seemed probably the most seen of all of them. And his smile with dimples on the cheeks looked intimate. Medusa didn’t get why he was smiling, she didn’t understand what they were talking about in general. She was in a strange trance, the only thing that she still cared about was what they were going to do to her. Suddenly, that priest came near her and squatted just like Victoria did before. He attentively looked at her face, then to her eyes and Medusa shut them, she felt a little bit uncomfortable.

“You don’t remember me?” he asked gently. Medusa shook her head a little bit. The priest sighed. “She needs to be taken to the hospital,” he said to others. “Call the ambulance.”

Medusa could hear a phone signal somewhere, someone was talking about an injured girl. The longer Medusa layed the colder she got and the pain was jolting even harder, so she started to shiver more and more than before. She felt how dark haired man saw that she was cold and that she’s shaking uncontrollably. He came and took off his jacket. He lifted Medusa a little, it hurt so bad.

“Shhh…” he comforted her and wrapped her in his jacket. Medusa could feel the warmth and a pleasurable scent. Eventually, her teeth calmed down chattering. She heard the sirens.

While she was ferried into the ambulance car, she couldn’t stop moaning, and when she was moving her pain got a dozen times bigger. But finally, she was laid down and bright and almost painful lights started to flash into her eyes.

“I’m going with her,” said someone of the four. “Ethan, you can take my car.”

A few minutes passed and the priest came to the car. He sat near a paramedic in front of Medusa’s bunk. Medusa got surprised. Why him? She was wearing an oxygen mask on her face which helped her breathe. Medusa was so scared, but she felt that he was looking at her and she could not turn her gaze to him. His eyes were slightly brown and now he looked gentle and good-willing. If Medusa ever saw him, she remembers only dark and predatory ones, which probably weren’t inherent for a priest. Something was wrong. Something was so weird.

He leaned towards her. Medusa shivered with fear. She turned her head to the other side so she would avoid eye contact.

“Don’t be scared,” whispered him. “No one is going to hurt you anymore.”

Hurt? Medusa thought that she tried to kill herself. If someone did hurt her, then who? Medusa hadn’t turned her eyes on him yet. Even though she wanted to ask him what he was talking about, she didn’t dare, and to be honest she wasn’t even able, even if her body was about to relax bit by bit, her tongue was still locked. Everything she could do was shake her head and that’s what she did, started to gently shake her head. She was sure that he was smiling.

“Everything is fine,” said he leaning back. “Now you’re safe.”

Medusa moaned quietly, his voice so calming and for a moment she thought she was safe for real. Lights became brighter and Medusa hardly shut her eyes. She still tasted the blood in her mouth. They injected her with some kind of medicine, and probably Medusa was creating the danger herself, but she was afraid that she was poisoned, but how the fuck she could not trust the priest? It got hard to breathe under that mask and she couldn’t understand why... Shouldn’t it help to breathe instead? Medusa began to squirm, she wanted to jump out of the car, ran into the street, and she wanted to kill herself again, but this time she wanted to succeed. When the paramedic noticed her squirming, he tied her hands tighter to her bunk. She felt a prick in her side.

~~~

She couldn’t believe it. She woke up in the hospital, and the first thing she saw was the dropper on the side, above her head. The first thing she heard was noise in the hallway. The first thing she realized was that she was not alone in the ward. Medusa turned her heavy head. The four people who were with her under, probably, a bridge, were here. Victoria has worn a white robe, the priest was leaning on the windowsill, the tall one sat on a chair in front of the bed, and a man with long hair was also with a robe and standing near Victoria. Medusa couldn’t understand why they were there and what they want from her. Maybe she had made some kind of crime? When Victoria noticed that Medusa woke up, she came closer.

“Medusa,” her voice tone was gentle and friendly but also strict. “Can you speak?”

Medusa wanted to shake her head saying no, but then she realized that maybe she can… A little bit.

“I… I…” she took a deep breath. “Don’t… Know…”

“Hmm…” Victoria chuckled quietly. “Could you answer a few questions?”

How could she answer any question if she doesn’t remember anything? Everything she saw in front of her eyes was the top of that bridge and later that priest in the ambulance car where was flashing bright lights. Medusa turned her eyes to him. He leaned his head against the window and looked directly into her face, when their gazes met he smiled a little bit, and friendly and softly blinked with one of his eyes. Medusa felt herself blushing. She was curious if Victoria noticed it. It’d be very awkward.

Medusa nodded. Victoria smiled again.

“Well, first of all, do you remember what happened? Do you remember who are we?”

Medusa shook her head.

“No,” said as clearly as she could. It was too scary what can come back to the head.

“And maybe if you think a little?” lifted her eyebrow Victoria, but seeing how Medusa was ‘thinking’, she realized that the girl’s brain was probably deeply damaged. “It’s okay,” Victoria comforted her. “You’ll remember it eventually.”

Medusa sighed hard in disagreement.

“...Or we can introduce ourselves… Once again. Would it be acceptable for you?” asked Victoria.

Medusa squirmed in her bed. If she’d remember, maybe she’ll feel any better, maybe the headache she felt because of trying to recall anything, would quiet down.

“Okay,” mumbled she. “I… Think it’d be better."

Victoria nodded. She reviews all the people now in the ward and starts to name them.

“I am Victoria de Angelis, a psychiatrist,” she showed to the man near her. “This is therapist Ethan Torchio, the guy sitting next to you is medicine student Thomas Raggi, and there,” she waved her finger to the priest. “A priest and exorcist Damiano David. We work with any kind of people who in any way, psychologically, emotionally, or physically are or were experienced possession. Does it say something to you?”

Medusa’s temples got tense. It was hard to digest this much information. However, her head started to flash flashbacks. The bridge she fell from… Could it be related to exorcism? Now she realized that whatever reason she felt from that fucking bridge was, it wasn’t suicide. Something frightened her. Medusa shut her eyes, then opened them again. Suddenly, she remembered the pain right before the fall. The pain was tearing. Someone was screaming very loudly, probably, herself. And she remembered words, a lot of words, like prayers. Then she ran away from the building she was in before and fell, that was everything she remembered for now. Did that… Damiano was with her? Or maybe they all? Perhaps her memories were lying to her. Now she couldn’t know if she can trust even her own head. Medusa looked at Victoria, can she trust her? She couldn’t recall what these people were even if they introduced themselves to her. They could lie to her, they could hurt her if they wanted. Maybe they were possessed themselves. Although Medusa was thinking such things, she realized that she didn’t answer Victoria’s question.

“I don’t know,” when she speaks it gets hard to breathe and she could still taste the blood in her mouth. “Probably not.”

Victoria sighed quietly.

“I think she needs special treatment,” said her to Ethan and he nodded.

Hearing this Medusa got confused and liven up a bit, she squirmed heavily.

“What’s the special treatment?” she asked even though it was too hard to do it.

Victoria and Ethan both turned to Medusa.

“Nothing scary, darling,” Victoria consoled her. “It’s just that we are gonna meet you more often from now on, more often than ever, more often than we did the last time, to ensure you a fledged safety.”

“Where I am?” Medusa suddenly felt the itch to know where she was. She got the fact that she was at the hospital but didn’t think about which till now. She remembered that Victoria introduced herself as a psychiatrist, not like the ordinary doctor.

“‘Casa di Cura Samadi’ psychiatry hospital of Rome,” Victoria’s voice was so casual that Medusa actually calmed down a little, even though she found out that she was at the psych ward.

Then Medusa got another thought if she was here and can’t remember anything, she still perceived that she had a family. Mom, dad, and maybe even a sister. They weren’t here. Remembering them was way easier, even though it seemed that they were light-years away from her, hiding somewhere in the corners of her brain. She wanted to know where they are now and how long she didn’t see them.

“Where are my parents?” this question made her voice shudder because she understood that she was afraid of knowing the truth. She wanted to come back to normal life even if now she was only imagining that she has one.

She saw how all four looked at each other. Then all of their glances stick to Damiano as if he should explain everything to her.

“Your parents…” began saying him. “Are high up above us.”

“Damiano,” said Victoria a little bit angrily. “Just say it so she’d understand.”

Damiano rolled his eyes. As a priest, he was quite weird…

“They’re dead, Medusa. I’m sorry.”

Medusa frowned. If she was in a different situation, a different position, it would be really sorrowful to hear that, but now it was hard to grasp. She even didn’t wanna ask what had happened to them. She felt like the answer wouldn’t cheer her up. Her hands started to itch so she frightened and squeezed her fists. What if she has done something to her parents herself, indeed? Her eyes fearfully stuck to Damiano. It was he who told her that her parents are dead. It means he knows more. But even though the fear to hear something she wouldn’t like to hear was strong, however, she must know. It was her right.

“But… But… What happened?” she asked. “In… In general?” Because of the blood taste in her mouth, she felt nauseous.

It was a short silence in the ward. All eyes stuck to Damiano again. He probably knew what happened the best. He probably was there when it happened.

Damiano switched position, he sat on the windowsill.

“Should we tell her?” asked his colleagues.

At first, they just shrugged, then nodded. Damiano sighed, he looked Medusa in the eyes. Medusa was looking at him. Her eyes were wet.

“You were possessed,” he explained. “You and your friends arranged the show about the four horsemen of the apocalypse from biblical legend, you thought you were the Death,” he scratched the top of his head as if he knew that what he was about to say will be the most unpleasant part. “You killed your parents and from three of your friends, the only one left — your sister. She’s with us, we have her. Your friends were never possessed, all the time while you thought you were real Death, they were just playing… When the exorcism was performed on you, you succeed to run away from the building, but not for long, when you felt that the demon isn’t in you anymore, you felt empty and jumped off the bridge. That’s all, now you’re here,” he got silent and tilted his head so he could see Medusa’s reaction.

Medusa’s eyes were wide open, she sat just like she was frozen. Her eyes were even wetter, it looked like she was about to cry.

“It’s safe here,” added Damiano comforting. “There’s nothing in you anymore.”

“But…” stuttered Medusa. “I?... Did… Kill them.”

Damiano nodded.

“How?” asked Medusa again.

“It will be better if you wouldn’t know, sweetheart. I’ve told you a lot, it’s enough stress for this time.”

Victoria, Ethan, and Thomas who were listening, now moved a little bit. The nurse sneaked into the ward and turned the light on. It was getting dark outside. So many things started to spin in Medusa’s head. She has a sister but can’t remember even her name.

‘Sweetheart…’ Medusa thought. What kind of relationship she had with Damiano, besides that he was a priest? She felt him a quite warm feeling and attachment, even though she understood that only now. The feeling came unexpectedly, something in Damiano’s movements reminded her of that, but he just changed his legs' position from one to another and crossed his arms on his chest.

Medusa felt tired. Exhausted. She just woke up but her body wasn’t relaxed. But she was afraid to fall asleep, afraid because they could come back. Medusa was used to seeing chimeras in the city between corners of the churches and funny spirits from various epochs, she even used to give them names if they wouldn’t have them already. However, now everything didn’t seem so fun. Now she was scared of them. Damiano, psychiatrist Victoria, and her colleagues will leave now and she’ll be left alone with her horrors again. She didn’t wanna that Damiano leave.

“Well, I think it’s time for us to go,” said Victoria. “You, Medusa, should rest and sleep for real. In case of emergency, the nurse is waking in the hallway.”

Medusa shook her head. Victoria stopped surprised, but didn’t say anything. Damiano also stood as if he was thinking if he should leave or maybe stay. He really saw that Medusa wanted that he’d stay here with her. Finally, he probably decided to leave with others, but he was stopped by the voice of Medusa.

“Damiano,” she said quietly. “Could you stay?”

Damiano smiled gently.

“Well, maybe I can. For tonight,” answered him watching how Medusa calmed down a bit and her worrying facial expression turned into relaxed, and she squinted a little bit as if she’d want to sleep indeed. From her mouth escapes an unwilling yawn.

When they left, Damiano came near the bed and leaned onto the handhold. His sleeves were rolled up and Medusa could see his tattoos.

“So you wanna say something to me?” asked him still smiling.

Medusa lowered her eyes. She wanted to know everything and how it happened. But she didn’t know how she should ask him to tell her this. She wanted that Damiano would be here when she gets sleepy. She felt like he was the only of those people whom she can trust. Is it because he was a priest? Medusa was never this religious to crave the closeness of a priest. she even was afraid of the church, it's teaching, and God. But this man was different, he did something to her that made her want that he wouldn’t ever leave.

Damiano came around the bed and sat near Medusa. He knew exactly what she wanted to know and he knew every single answer, to what she cared about. But he didn’t intend to say anything anyway unless she ask it herself. Damiano guessed that many of those things can frighten her. He was interested can she still see the creatures and spirits that she saw before the exorcism. He squinted and ran his eyes around the corners of the ward.

“Are we alone?” inquired him smiling cunningly and seeing how Medusa die away a little. She didn’t understand what he has in mind, so she nodded cowardly.

“Why?” her iris were moving while she was looking at Damiano, they were full of fear and anxiety. “Someone else… Has to be here?” when she talked her voice was shivering, she didn’t want that someone would interfere between her and Damiano.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“I think there’s nobody here,” her heart was jumping, she felt like something should appear here or that she has to see something. Damiano noticed it and comforted her.

“It’s okay, Dussy, if you don’t see anything in the ward, it means there’s nothing here.”

His words calmed Medusa down. She released a silent sigh full of relief. Her gaze caught Damiano’s hand placed near her hip. She wanted to take it and squeeze it, so she lifted her palm slightly, hoping that Damiano will notice what she wants. She saw a mischievous smirk on his face when he took her palm himself. What a unique priest he was, the thought was flying through Medusa’s brain. When they were sitting in silence for a while, finally Medusa found enough courage in herself to ask:

“What happened to me?”

Damiano lifted his eyebrow.

“I thought I’ve told you what happened to you already.”

Medusa shook her head in disagreement. That what he said was too little for her to understand what happened in very truth. Damiano sighed but not pitiful more like with a little surprise. He considered what he should say.

“You don’t remember what life you lived before jumping off the bridge? Not even a little bit?”

“No,” silently admitted Medusa. “Just I somewhat remember you.”

Damiano’s eyes got wide open for a second.

“What do you remember about me?” asked him with pure curiosity in his voice.

Medusa shrugged. She recalled his aura, maybe a scent or a voice, just like others but way stronger. She remembered… Affection. Dependence. She couldn’t understand it herself.

“Just…”

Damiano chuckled quietly, so Medusa did the same. Her laugh cheered Damiano up and now to be honest he didn’t wanna tell her anything so he wouldn’t ruin her now little bit improved mood. Saw how Medusa slightly smiles, take a breath and lower her eyes. Then she got upset and stuck pleading glance to Damiano again.

“But why?... Did I jump off the bridge?”

Before everything, Medusa used to go to school. It should have been her last year, but on her eighteen birthday, she celebrated with a knife in her hand, against her parents’ and friends’ throats. Now Medusa was a little worried that she could go to jail, she was an adult when she did that after all. But the scariest was the fact that she really did that herself, it seemed even stupidly unreal, incomprehensible and so so sick. When she thought about it her hand starts to shake, and the nausea of the terror begins to pulse in her stomach. Even though she couldn’t perceive it yet, she knew that a few hours will pass and she will start to miss her parents and friends. She knew that she’ll be filled with self-loathing and she’ll start to regret she didn’t die while jumping off the bridge. Which, to be honest, was really very weird. How?

Damiano thought a little, it wasn’t easy to find words that could explain to a girl why she killed so many people.

“You’ve read a book. About four horsemen of the apocalypse, the book marked a deep impression in your brain, just like teenagers start to obsess with tv shows and, well, books as well. Instead of creating a blog on the internet and writing fan fictions, which would be quite weird, because the book was written in the past century, you’ve decided to recreate the plot in the form of a comedy,” Damiano watched Medusa’s reaction to this. She listened with lowered eyes. Damiano could only imagine how she feels. How fucking scared she had to be now. “It doesn’t say anything to you?”

Medusa shook her head once again. She couldn’t recall what kind of book it could be.

“What kind of book that was?”

Now Damiano shook his head a little bit, he slightly smiled and released a small giggle.

“I won’t tell you, because what if you’ll decide to read it again one day.”

“In the form of a comedy?” asked her. “What could that be?”

“Well, the game, small tricks with friends. To neighbors, classmates, family and etc. I don’t think that it was a serious intention to hurt anybody. But playing with such things when you’re in such a mental state as you were then, is really dangerous. Biblical topics aren’t funny after all, they can come true fast if only someone has a wish.”

Medusa got cold. She kind of heard what Damiano said, but her brain didn’t process it. She was distracted by the feeling that there was someone else in the ward. But then she ran her eyes around the room, she didn’t see anything so she came back to Damiano and tried to remember what he was talking about.

“Did I have some illness?”

“Not really,” replied Damiano. “However, you experienced some kind of traumatic events, parents’ divorce, school stress, and difficulties, seasonal depression, and also you showed symptoms of false memory syndrome, which can seriously drive you crazy.”

Medusa nodded, even though she wasn’t sure what that is. She didn’t wanna ask, it would be stupid to ask about feelings you felt yourself. But on the other hand, he was a priest and probably knew what she was feeling better than she did herself. She had no idea what she should ask next, finding out other details was timid.

“Do you want to know more?” asked Damiano as if he had read her mind.

Medusa nodded her head hesitantly. Damiano noticed her confusion.

“Well, we may not speak about it,” he slapped his palms gently on his knees and wanted to stand up. “I think it’s time for you to sleep.”

“No no,” started to protest Medusa. “Tell me more, tell me everything.”

Damiano sat again on the bed.

“It could be disturbing,” he warned.

“I know,” admitted Medusa. “But maybe if you’ll tell me I’ll remember something?”

Damiano shrugged. Medusa noticed that it didn’t seem he’d believe in this.

“Why I didn’t die jumping off the bridge?” Medusa remembered the fact that seemed the most illogical to her.

“Luckyness?” laughed Damiano. “There was still the demon’s power in you that affected you physically. That’s my theory.”

Medusa frowned her eyebrows. That sounded horrible. She squeezed her blanket in her fists. Damiano was talking to her so gently even though he said such terrible things and Medusa started to feel like crying. Tears appeared in her eyes, but they didn’t run. Something scratched in the corner of the ward, behind the nightstand, and Medusa flinched immediately turning to that side.

“What?” asked Damiano and Medusa felt the interest in his voice. He didn’t hear it?

“Nothing…” Medusa lied, not knowing why. “It just seemed to me.”

Damiano nodded incredulously. But his gaze was still stuck in the corner in which Medusa was turning her head. He knew very well that she had heard something there. A girl could have seen supernatural creatures from her birth and Damiano was sure that even after this accident nothing really changed. Even though he sent away the demon which made her think that she was Death and kill people, he couldn’t cure her of this ‘illness’. Not yet. Medusa shivered but still wanted to know what happened next.

“How did it go that... I’ve killed them all?” she asked and even from that word she felt bitterness in her mouth.

“Because of bad being of yours and involving into the role, the demon possessed you, not so hard to grasp, huh?” Damiano grinned, but it wasn’t funny for him, he wasn’t mocking. “When everything started to turn crazy, your parents tried to reach your psychiatrist…”

“Victoria?” Medusa interrupted him, remembering that the doctor who was here not so long ago introduced herself as a psychiatrist. That’s why Medusa felt that she knew her from somewhere.

“Yes,” Damiano agreed. “It’s her. You used to visit her for some time before everything. She used to prescribe you sleeping pills and meds that help you to concentrate at school.”

Medusa was curious why she did badly at school, but she didn’t wanna that Damiano would discontinue telling her what happened to her parents and friends. It was so weird to perceive, how interesting what you felt and what life you had, while you don’t remember anything. The sound from behind the nightstand caught Medusa’s attention again, she curled up cowardly, whatever that was, she was the only one who heard it and she got more and more scared. What if that thing there looks scary, or even worse — it can hurt her? Maybe she should tell Damiano, maybe he could help, he was a priest after all…

“You didn’t like that your parents wanted to help you, usually demons hate when someone is trying to give help to their prey. And your friends got bored playing this game, because whatever you did something always got wrong or unsuccessful, usually what you wanted and never them. Long story short, during one sleepover demon cut through their throats,” Damiano got silent. “Your sister is still alive though, she helped to find doctors and doctors helped to find me. Now you’re clean,” he added.

Damiano wasn’t sure how much he can help saying that she was safe and free from the demon, because knowing that you killed all your loved ones now in any way should feel wrecking. He saw how a single tear dropped down Medusa’s cheek. She sat stuck her eyes to some corner of the ward, but not at the same where she heard the sound. She wasn’t thinking about the creature right there hiding behind her nightstand, she was overwhelmed by the horror which was covered by what Damiano just told her. Perception probably hit hard. One moment Damiano doubted if he did good, however, then came a thought that she deserves to know, she won’t live without any memories and especially this cruel forever. That would be even more inhumane than she felt now.

Prevailed the silence. Medusa began to snort until it became sobbing. Her crying sounds filled the whole room. Damiano looked at her face, how she was covering it, trying to stop dropping tears. Then he gently took her hand and exposed her face. Medusa wasn’t looking him in the eyes, she tried to shut her own as much as possible.

“Dussy, look at me,” comforting and almost lovingly he said to her. “Come on, look…”

Damiano knew that now he couldn’t let a girl out of his sight never. She was the most vulnerable than ever. He also was curious. Curious about what she sees and if he can send it away, even though that not as like the usual demon. He and the group of medics are going to work with this girl as much as it takes.

Medusa didn’t dare to look at Damiano. She didn’t dare to open her eyes in general. She rather doesn’t see anything than know in what reality she was. But Damiano started quietly and softly talking to her.

“I know that it’s insanely scary, but you have to understand that it’s over now… Leave your pain to God. You didn’t do that of your own will, Medusa, I know that you’ll miss your parents and your friends, but we’ll survive that grief and horror. Okay?”

Medusa was shaking her head.

“No…” she said silently. “It can’t be…”

Medusa imagines how she should have done that, how it should have looked like. She, a knife and the blood of loved ones on her hands. All the scariest views were standing in front of her eyes and none of them probably was as scary as it was in reality.

Damiano released a sigh full of sympathy. How else he could have helped her?

“Medusa, you must look at me,” even if he didn’t want to this time his voice sounded demanding and even strict.

Medusa shuddered because of his changed voice tone. She reluctantly and cowardly pulled her hand off her cheeks and hardly met Damiano’s glance. He smiled.

“That’s it. Just like that.”

“I’m scared,” whispered Medusa. She looked at Damiano’s face, it seemed that she was asking for all the possible help and safety that he can provide. Finally, she even decided to admit that, besides everything, she heard sounds from behind her nightstand. “There, behind the nightstand is something… I’m so scared.”

Damiano looked behind it. He was interested in what kind of creature she’d see there, but he didn’t wanna make her look. It was enough stress for this person tonight.

“I understand that you think that what you hear is real, but there’s nothing, trust me. No one can’t hurt you. A little bit unpleasant and that’s it,” he told her. “If you want, I can bless you and the room, if the creature is evil, felt God it’ll leave.”

Medusa snorted and nodded.

“And if it isn’t evil, I’ll still hear it?”

Damiano shrugged.

“Probably, but it couldn’t hurt you.”

Medusa nodded one more time.

“Okay,” said she quietly. “You can… Bless me…” it was a weird word for her, she had never been blessed before. She hasn’t understood how it works, religious classes at school were boring and lifeless, just Damiano looked different to her. He did something to her, she’ll never forget, even though she doesn’t remember how it happened.

Damiano switched his position. He leaned back and the dignity that was inherent to a priest appeared in him, but at the same time, he seemed relaxed and calm. He lifted one hand and made a cross sign in front of Medusa.

“In the name of Father, and the Son and Holy Spirit. Amen,” said he gently and then softly touched Medusa’s forehead with his thumb drawing there a small cross.

Medusa feeling his finger on her forehead closed her eyes and blushed. Down her cheek dropped an unwilling tear again.

“Here you go,” smiled Damiano. “Now you could sleep in peace.”

Medusa opened her eyes and quickly swiped her tear with her baby pink pajama’s sleeve. She didn’t know how she should feel. Will Damiano leave now? She didn’t want to sleep alone, even if nurses were waking in the hallway, Damiano was her small land of safety, at least for now. She still could hear the sound but she calmed down knowing that she has to trust Damiano. No one could hurt her while he was here, and that was the reason why she didn’t wanna him to leave. Horror about the parents and friends had come in waves, making her flinch.

“Are you going to leave?” asked her with fear. She was scared of a positive answer. “Please stay,” added quickly.

It’s going to be hard for Medusa to sleep. Seemed the night was full of nightmares. She needed, that someone would be here beside her when she’ll woke up at night not knowing where she is and screaming in pain with every flashback. She was so scared of it, but that was what gonna follow her for no one knows how long. Maybe for decades, maybe for whole her life, and even after death…

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” Damiano comforted her.

Medusa released a sigh of relief. She adjusted her pillow and lay down. She was still looking at Damiano, at his face, and saw how he smiles. Then she gathered enough courage to take his hand again, but this time herself. His palm was so soft and warm. She squeezed it hard, and Damiano wasn’t resisting. Medusa closed her eyes, if he’ll be here and held her hand, maybe she will succeed to sleep for real, maybe the nightmare will be easier.

“You’ll be here while I sleep?” asked Medusa again, she wanted to be sure.

“Yes yes, I’ll always be here,” he calmed her down. She squeezed his hand so hard that he even felt pain, but he didn’t mind. Let the girl settle down.

Damiano knew that now they’ll spend so much time together. He knew that now he has to protect her from she wouldn’t be doing any bad things. Now he was about to take her with him and be her protector for as much time as it takes.

A/N: This is a very first fic I've ever written. The story will go on :) Thank you for any kind of attention. ❤️

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bymeile · 8 months

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#damiano david #måneskin #maneskin #fanart #maneskin fanart #original character #oc #my art #sketch

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characterwedge · 3 years

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Gwen & Dante: Instagram

#oc: dante nera #oc: gwen biley #anya taylor joy #damiano david #instaedit #ocedit #original characters #ship: dantexgwen

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genezis79 · 2 years

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#damiano david #original character #roleplay #Aestheitcs #fan art

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pjisskullourful · 2 years

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𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

🌼Damiano × reader

part12 of ?? [parts 1-11]

NSFW🔥 kinky rude swearing smuttastic sexytimes

° Damiano David & female reader insert

wordcount::: 7,259

° anon request to the power of 2. origin of the series: i was wondering if you could do a corruption kink fic with damiano and a female reader. & another anon who wrote in, requesting: with how sweet d is with consent and asking if everything is ok and everything [...] I would love to see his reaction if gf uses her safeword - like if she’s being punished or something and she gets overwhelmed and needs to be reassured that he loves her and it’s only play or something like that [ask & it shall be given- requests are open] [but commissions are priority!]

° inspired by this spicy audio erotica

"Ew, oh my God, ew, what is- what the Hell is this?"

You snickered, looking away from the currently-stationary character on your laptop screen. Max's voice came from your phone, resting next to you on the coffee table. "What's wrong, honey?"

"Did I just crawl up into someone's asshole?" Your friend sounded highly disgusted by the part of the video game you had instructed her to.

You laughed harder now, considering the setting that Lara Croft waited in - the corridor imitated the appearance of human muscles, almost blood-red in colour. It was drastically different from any of the other corridors in the preceding thirteen levels of the original Tomb Raider game, which had all been made of typical materials like stone or sand. During your previous playthroughs you had thought this shift in design was gross, but Max's observation was beyond any comparisons you could have thought up.

You had been trying to talk her into playing this game for months, happy to help her with insights of how to get through the more vexing obstacles now that she had been willing to buy it for herself. She was so close to the final level, you didn't want her to quit because of this gory scenery.

"No, no, no, you're still in Atlantis. It's just, like, you're surrounded by the material that's making the mutants-"

She groaned. "More mutants?"

"-so it's alive like they're alive. I guess it's, like, a giant alien organism or something. But it's definitely not a butthole."

"Right, aliens, whatever. You cannot tell me this doesn't look like a goddamn booty hole." She said. "It's pulsing like an asshole and everything."

"How much time are you spending looking at buttholes?" You asked through your laughter. "Is there a more serious conversation you and me need to be having, wifey?"

She was laughing as well. "Shut up, shut up."

"I'm home…" Damiano's voice called out, surprising you after you had failed to hear the sounds of him unlocking the door.

"Oh, hey babe." You hit the pause button on your game and picked up your phone. "Do you think you can handle this ass on your own, honey? 'Cause Dami just got home and…"

"I can do it." She said, her voice full of confidence. "I'm gonna show this ass who's the boss. It's me. I'm the ass boss, the boss booty hole bitch."

"Okay, text me if you need help." You said, looking over your shoulder once the call was disconnected. You found your boyfriend coming into the room. "Hi baby."

There was a strange look on his face as he came over to sit down at the couch behind you. "Do I want to know what that call was about?"

You smiled, giving his knee a pat as he removed his leather jacket. "Just gaming stuff."

"Oh, the gamer girls- you've had a busy afternoon, then?"

"Yeah. She needed help getting past the creepy dopplegänger."

"Right…"

You saved your progress and closed the game so that you could give him your full attention. You turned around on your spot on the floor, watching as he was taking off his shoes, getting comfortable. But the look on his face remained, his eyes not focusing on your face, instead moving around the room.

"Are you okay?" You asked, stroking your hand across his knee. "I thought you were looking forward to work today- were none of the outfits right?"

The band had been doing fittings, trying to find the perfect outfits for their appearances at Eurovision. They needed to dress in a way suitable for the winners. Usually, he had a lot of fun on days like that. He loved to play around in clothes, delighting in little fantasies of being a model and striking ridiculous poses.

"It was fine, maybe not exactly what we're looking for, but nothing explicitly bad."

"So, what's wrong?"

His nostrils flared and there was a darker tone in his eyes. He sat forward a little, his eyes moving around the room again. "What is wrong?"

You felt unnerved as you watched him, your mind racing. You weren't seeing a clear path to making him laugh, to finding a way to crack this icy exterior he was currently holding up.

"I'm just wondering how long you spent playing video games, in comparison to how much time you spent unpacking your boxes. What do you think the ratio would be?" He asked sternly.

"I didn't…" You curled your hand into a fist, looking down at where it rested against your leg. You had lost track of time, intending to get to unpacking later, but unintentionally disappointing him. "I haven't unpacked at all, it just slipped my-"

"Hey, can you look at me when you're answering my questions?" He asked and he snapped his fingers, making you flinch.

You looked up, intimidated by him at this moment. "I'm sorry, I didn't unpack anything in the whole time you were gone, 'cause I got distracted and I was tired of it from this morning and…"

"You were tired of it? Do you wanna know what I'm tired of? Looking at all these boxes, you've been here for over a week and yet every room that I'm in, all I'm looking at is cardboard boxes. There's five in this room, five- and you couldn't be bothered to unpack even one?"

"I can unpack right now." You said, preparing to get up. "Most of them are books, it'll be quick once I get started on it-"

He leaned forward, coming into your personal space and making you hesitate, as you were stuck under his deep stare. He put his hands onto your cheeks, guiding your head. "No, I don't think that's-... Too little, too late, kitten." His voice was low as his fingers moved tenderly over your face. "I'm irritated now and I'm feeling the need to blow off some steam."

You nodded your head as his thumb moved over your bottom lip. "I understand, let me help." You moved your hands to his belt, beginning to undo it.

"Hang on, hang on, stop." He said. "This is gonna be a punishment, do you get that? It isn't much of a punishment if you get satisfaction out of it and I know how you work, I know how much delight in getting me off. You'll be feeling all proud of yourself and that's not what this is about. Do you wanna be an obedient girl and come with me into the bedroom?"

"Of course."

You got to your feet, following him out of the lounge room. You weren't buzzing with the excitement of what was to come, and not just because you weren't expecting to get off anytime soon. You weren't thrilled to take on the challenge of cheering him up and proving yourself, you weren't thinking up tactics.

Your mind was crowded, especially as the path to the bedroom took you past more full cardboard boxes. You were sick of looking at them too, tired of having to pause and search anytime you wanted something. But the hours had slipped by without you noticing, leaving you to look at a far less productive day than you had expected for this Sunday.

"Being this messy and lazy and selfish- it's very out of character for a good girl." He said, gesturing over to the bed. As you walked toward it, his hand collided with your butt, making you squeak in surprise and you sped up. He didn't join you on the bed right away, instead going to the wardrobe. "But maybe you're only a good girl when Daddy gives you strict instructions, is that the case?"

"No, that's not necessary…"

He was looking through a large plastic box that sat on the top shelf, a box you recognised on sight. "Are you sure?" The toy that he pulled out wasn't familiar to you. "'Cause there's a lot of evidence to the contrary here."

"I'm not-... what are you holding?" You asked, your eyes constantly moving back to the stout black cylinder held in his hand.

"Oh, this?" He extended his arm, but it still wasn't close enough for you to see any enlightening details. "This is one of my toys, a toy that is just for me. It's a fleshlight."

"Flashlight?" You narrowed your eyes - that name matched what you were looking at, but it didn't match the current setting. "What is that for, you're gonna shine it in my eyes and interrogate me to get the real answers? 'Cause I'm telling you the truth."

"Nuh-uh." He showed you the thicker end of the device, its rigged, clear plastic top not revealing any of its secrets to you, prompting him to break the word down to its syllables. "Fuh-lesh-light."

"Huh?"

"You've never…?"

"No." You said, you started to hold your hands out then drew them back, unsure if he wanted you to hold it or not. "What is it?"

"It's a cock-sleeve, basically." He handed it to you as he came closer to the bed. You held the lightweight tube in your hand, looking at the strangely-textured plastic that covered one end - the rest of it was plain black, reminding you of a torch. "It's just a nice little aid, that gives me an option other than just my hand, when you aren't around.

"It's a tight-little hole, full of ridges and it kinda simulates getting my cock sucked." He said, standing at the end of the bed as he removed his belt and then his shirt. "Of course, toys are never as good as the real thing. But I have to use it now, 'cause I need this tension released, but you don't get to have my cock, 'cause only good girls get cock."

"But I wanna be your good girl." You said. Even though you didn't know what to do with this toy, you knew what he wanted to hear, you could fall back on the phrases that he had proven to like in the past. "Please tell me what to do, Master."

His jeans had been shed and he placed his knee on the bed, his eyes meeting yours as he leaned in. "You're gonna get naked and hold this in between your legs, so I can fuck it and you can watch me getting off with absolutely no help from you- that'll put you in your place."

"Okay." You started to take your clothes off. As you placed them aside, off the bed, you couldn't help but notice the two boxes that were stacked in the nearby corner - more boxes.

He got your attention back to him, his fingers beneath your chin, guiding your head around. You smiled weakly as you found him kneeling directly in front of you. He licked his lips as he leaned in, your lips meeting in a slow kiss.

This succeeded in getting you to shut your eyes, the boxes gone from your sight as you sank into the kiss. You tried to turn your thoughts off - to just enjoy what you could feel. You let your senses prick up, to be entirely of this moment, beginning to indulge in this tender kiss.

But it wasn’t a nice or sweet kiss - it was a trick. He gained the advantage of surprising you when he pulled away abruptly. You weren’t able to follow him, to initiate any further kissing, because his hand went to your throat, with the slight amount of force that was enough to hold you back.

Before you had enough time to react, or even open your eyes, this hand was pushing you. His body easily overpowered yours and you were falling back onto the mattress.

Once you were flat on your back, you were held here by his set grip on your throat. Your breathing was mostly unaffected as your eyes fluttered open, finding him hovering over you.

He was all that you could see, looking up and trying to read the expression on his face. You wanted to find that familiarity, to see the cue that would call back to a past encounter, so that you could win him over.

He leaned to the right and you heard a draw slide open, then you heard the plastic cap on the tube of lubricant being pushed open. Then his hand left your throat so that he could take the fleshlight from you.

“Spread your legs a little. Yep, that’s good.” He said, placing the end of the toy into the new space between your thighs. You brought your legs together on either side of the fleshlight, keeping the open end pointing up at him. “I’m gonna need you to keep it there with just your legs, you got that? Because these naughty hands…” He gave your wrist a flick from his fingers. “I don’t wanna see them unless I say.”

You lifted your arms, wondering if he might put restraints on you as you laid your hands above your head. “Yes.”

He swiftly flicked your wrist again. “Yes, what- who are you saying yes to?”

“Daddy, I’m saying yes Daddy.”

“That’s better.” He changed his positioning on top of you, sitting up and you heard the slicking of the lube being spread. “God, you really need to be put in your place.”

Your eyes followed the movement down, seeing where he was massaging the gel over his dick, which was already fully erect. Your fingers twitched, a deep desire to touch him wanted to take over. But you curled your hands into fists, trying to ignore the mental itch - just as you were endeavouring to ignore the way your cunt throbbed for attention.

You heard how shallow his breathing had become, this cycle unpredictably punctuated by some light moans as he shifted his body weight forward. He was hovering over you again, but this time you weren’t absorbed in reading his face.

You tucked your chin down, watching how he interacted with this device that you had never seen before. You tensed your muscles around it as his tip got closer. He held the top of the fleshlight steady with one hand, while his other hand guided his cock.

Without your comfort to worry about, a gentle penetration was not necessary. He could sink in as quickly as he liked, shuddering as so much of his shaft disappeared into the toy. Directly in front of your pussy, you saw his length plunging into a tube of plastic.

“What’s that look on your face for, babygirl?” As soon as his hand left his dick, it was returned to your throat. “Is your pussy feeling a little sad and neglected?”

You lifted your eyes to his face, which was now only a few inches away from yours. “Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s too bad, because this isn’t about you or what you want. You got to be selfish, now I do, too.”

There were some sounds that got stuck in his throat as he started to fuck himself into the toy. Your body was soon being worked over by this momentum and you found that you could feel some friction building within you.

“You’re gonna lie there and take it, take this punishment.” He said, his breathing coming through more ragged as he started to pick up speed. “And you’re gonna learn your lesson. You’re gonna learn why there can’t be one selfish person in a relationship. It doesn’t work, we’re supposed to be a team. Nod your head so that I can see that you’re listening…” You nodded jerkily, unable to keep a whiny sound trapped within you as you did so. “That’s right, nod so I know you understand what I’m saying.”

You went on nodding your head as heat pooled in your cunt. You were receiving a pressure to your pelvis, but there was nothing for it to connect with, as your pussy clenched around a similar amount of nothing.

“You’re lucky that you have a daddy that loves you enough to put time into training these bullshit bratty behaviours out of you.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

You could feel that your nails were beginning to press into your skin, but you couldn’t relax your hands, not when they were so desperate to get on him. If you lowered your defences, you weren’t certain that you would be able to keep yourself from giving into your desires, to follow your instincts.

You wanted to have your hands all over him, you wanted to throw your arms around him, you wanted to have your fingers in his hair.

You could hear and see what was happening to him - but there was a strange disconnect, almost like wearing a VR headset. You could accept that everything was real, but it wasn’t fully real to you.

The reality became more tangible to you when his mouth met yours, reminding you that you weren’t an audience member. You could settle into something of a rhythm with him, letting your jaw relax as he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth.

You could enjoy his noises all the more as they were vibrating directly into your mouth. All of his moans were incredible to listen to, as he clearly shared his mounting arousal with you. You were ready to be intoxicated when you felt his tongue gliding between your lips. These sounds unlocked memories and you began to arch your back, wanting to transcend into these feelings with him.

But you kept your legs firm, unwilling to let the fleshlight slip.

He pulled away from your mouth with a gasp for air. You were licking your lips as you listened to him start to speak again. “Maybe when I’m finished, I’ll take my cock out of this thing and slap it on your tongue a bit and you can taste what you could’ve had- if you were a better behaved kitten…”

His hand left your throat as you felt the collision of his body with greater impact, more of his body weight pressing into you. One of his hands held your hip, the other grasping at the bedsheets and you thought you were beginning to witness the signs that he was getting close.

He let his head fall to the curve of your neck and you bit into your bottom lip, trying to ignore the way that the hard plastic rubbed at your skin. Because he was almost finished.

Just as you were almost getting fucked. Having him so close, yet not actually stimulating any part of your pussy - it was almost enough to distract you from all of those boxes that you needed to unpack. You almost didn’t feel guilty for the mess you had made in the house.

But almost wasn’t good enough and you snapped, before he could snap to gain his release. The way that the plastic casing was rubbing began to burn. And upon opening your eyes, your gaze immediately landed on the boxes - and you knew that this moment needed to end.

“Puh-pumpkin.” It came from your trembling lips and you could feel your chest tightening as you tried to raise your voice. “Pumpkin, I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry.”

Straight away, his body lifted off of yours. “I’m sorry. Sorry, shit, I’m sorry.” You felt the toy pulled away from you before he cradled your face in both hands. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, what happened- was… sorry.”

You started to sit up, finding a completely different look on his face than before. You smiled weakly. “I’m okay. It’s not, like-... I’m sorry.”

He had gone back into the bedside draw, this time bringing out a small, battery-operated fan. He switched it on, directing the cool air at your face. “Hey, you don’t have to apologise. Are you hurt?”

“No, maybe some chafing, but I don’t think it’s anything major.” You said, feeling that you were thinking clearer now that your lungs were filled with enough air again.

“Was I too mean? I’m sorry, I totally got too carried away and I was fixated on this idea. But it’s all just play…” His hand rested on your shoulder, his fingers tenderly stroking your skin. “I didn’t mean to upset you, or anything like that. I’m sorry, kitten.”

Once you had secured your hair back into a tidy ponytail, you reached for him, placing a hand on his cheek. “If I don’t have to apologise, neither do you.” He didn’t instantly buy this idea, you could tell from the look on his face, and when he opened his mouth, drawing in a deep breath, you were certain he was about to present his reason behind not agreeing.

But you had something to distract him, pointing down before he could start talking. “Is it okay if your little friend isn’t included in this conversation?”

He looked down to where the black toy still encased his cock, and burst out laughing. With the erotic atmosphere now spoiled, you laughed as well, watching as he grabbed the toy from where it had remained suckered to his dick. He had taken it away and set it aside without any fanfare, without any swearing - the scene swiftly concluded.

“I literally forgot it was there.” He said with a sheepish smile. “All my adrenaline went into that protector part of my brain and I just had to make sure you were alright. And I guess that I stopped feeling my body, cock included.”

You put a hand over your eyes, still laughing. “Oh my God.”

“How do you feel?” He asked and you pulled the giggling side back, following him to this shift of something more serious. You took your hand away from your face, feeling the cooling from the handheld fan as he kept it pointed at you. “Do you know what happened?”

“I just didn’t- I wasn’t in the right headspace and it was like there was this block in my mind and I couldn’t really relax or, like, enjoy myself. I was getting tripped up on these negative thoughts, and I guess it… well, what’s the word for people with vaginas having their boners killed?”

“We can say boner killer.” He said.

“Great, that- I really hated that I disappointed you, or disrespected you in any way with the mess. And I was annoyed at myself and I felt guilty. And all of that kept me from getting properly aroused and having fun.”

He was staying mostly out of your personal space as you came down from the heightened moment of having to use your safe word. But he was attentive without touching - listening without interrupting and studying your body language. “I’m really proud of you for saying the word.”

“Thanks.”

“But I hope you know that I’m not actually disappointed in you, or anything like that, oh at all.” He said. “Of course having boxes everywhere is annoying, but is it the worst thing that’s ever happened to me? God, no. It’s not even the worst, most annoying thing that’s happened to me today.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Is that right?”

“When we first got there, they gave us coffees and teas- you know, being good hosts before the stylist started showing us the clothes. And I jumped the gun and had a sip too soon and the tea burnt my tongue.” He said. “It still feels weird and uncomfortable, and that’s the worst thing to happen to me today.”

You leaned forward, putting your head on his shoulder as you couldn’t help but laugh again. “Aw, my poor Damiano, his wounded tongue.”

“My point still stands that your boxes being around the house isn’t the end of the world.” He said, linking an arm around your waist. “Because I get it, moving house is hard, it is so draining. And this is your weekend, of course you wanna relax and have some laughs with your bestie. You’re allowed to do that without guilt, kitten. And I’m sorry for making you feel the opposite of that.”

“Thank you.” You said, straightening up so you could kiss him on the cheek.

“If you wanna go back to your video game, please don’t feel like you can’t on my account.” He said. “I know how much you enjoy getting into your nerdy gamer space.”

You made a face of exaggerated disgust. “Excuse your mouth, Lara Croft is not a nerd. But I think that I’ll find it easier to relax if I unpack a few boxes.”

“Only if you want to.”

“Yeah, I’m sick of not knowing where my favourite hoodie is.”

“I can help. I mean, I should probably shower first, ‘cause I’m all lube-y and gross. But, after that?”

“Yep, I’ll let you know if I need a hand. But it should be fine.”

“I’m always happy to give you a hand.” He said, finishing his sentence by laying an open-hand upon your breast.

— — —

“What is it about having books up on a shelf that makes the house look so much more grown-up?” Damiano asked.

The day had only improved since the unfinished scene play. He had emerged from the shower full of an energy so far removed from the mood he had come home in. Your strange feelings of being disconnected from reality were long gone.

Your safe word had possessed a power beyond what you had already known. It was like a magical spell and speaking it had cleared the fog, now the two of you were back in sync.

You had unpacked a few boxes of clothes - filling out the empty side of his wardrobe with bright dresses and more conservative, ‘real world’ clothes. He had unpacked some of the boxes labelled fragile, before unpacking most of your books.

There were still boxes scattered around the apartment, but (as you looked back to where he was relaxing on the couch) you didn’t think he was begrudgingly keeping a count of these in mind.

You had been standing in front of one of the bookshelves, trying to determine the best order for the framed photos now on display. He had found these in a box, instantly distributing them out to sit alongside his own framed photos and mementos. Photos of the two of you together were now beside photos of childhood pets. He had been thorough, finding a place for each one - photos of your since-deceased grandparents next to photos of his parents' wedding.

You took a step back, finding that you didn’t need any kind of uniformity in how these memories were displayed. The photo that you held in your hands (a selfie of yours from a day at the beach with Max) had looked just fine where he had set it out (next to a childhood photo of him, smiling a mostly-toothless smile, with his brother). You returned it to the shelf and took in this sight of how your lives had merged together.

He would soon know the story behind every single one of these photographs. Then the two of you would set about capturing your own stories.

“Okay, now you’re just stretching to call me a nerd.” You said, walking over to sit with him on the couch. “Don’t act like you didn’t have any books in this house before I moved in.”

“No, you’re right, I did. But just not this many. That bookcase is full of books- full. And I dunno, it’s got me feeling like a proper adult.” He said, making you giggle as you stole his glass to have a sip of wine. “I wasn’t sure if they were in an order of, like genres or whatever, so I just tried to get all the similar size books together.”

You glanced over your combined library, none of the placements hitting you as offensive to the eye. “It all looks great to me, babe.”

You consumed one more sip before he was taking the white wine back for himself. The two of you fell into a comfortable silence (not needing the background noise of the television or any music playing) and you snuggled into his side, your head coming to rest on his shoulder. He put a hand on your thigh as you let your eyes move around the room. You mentally noted all of the differences, seeing more of your fingerprints in this space.

“Do you remember how terribly they had staged this place for your first viewing?” You asked - to look back on it now made it feel like so long ago.

But it had been less than a year ago. This time last year, he had been a song you might hear on the radio.

In April, your boss had been so excited at the prospect of securing a buyer for a luxury penthouse that had been passed over numerous times. But it had been the perfect fit for Damiano, he loved the location, it met his expectations of a private residence, it was big without feeling like a warehouse.

“Yeah, they had two chairs at the dining table and then so many empty vases, like, would it have killed them to put a single flower in one? It was so strange and sterile. Did they think I was a minimalist or something?” He asked.

You shook your head. “I really don’t know what they thought was inviting or homey about that set up. I guess they were going for that whole blank canvas thing- like it’d be easier to imagine how you could live here, if you weren’t focusing on a particular couch that looks uncomfy as Hell. So, in that sense, it worked. But it was weird, and I need the record to show that I had nothing to do with it.”

“Well, how about now?” He asked and you sat up, turning your body to face him. “Now that you have helped with the decor- do you like it better?” You crossed your legs in front of you and he passed the glass to you again. “Is it homey enough?” He trailed his fingers down the side of your neck. “Is it suitably inviting?”

“Hmm.” You pretended to put serious thought into this as you took a sip of wine. “It’s an improvement, that’s for sure. I like that painting…” You pointed to a canvas on the far wall. “I don’t know if I would describe it as homey, but it’s interesting, it’s good. This is a good spot for the couch, under the lights and it doesn’t block off any walkways.

“Let me see…” You looked around the room, gasping in false-surprise when your gaze came to him. You placed your fingers under his chin. “Yes, I love this part.”

He rolled his eyes, but allowed you to kiss him, regardless of how cheesy he thought your joke was. You tilted your head, deepening the kiss until you could taste him. His hand moved up, gently holding you at the back of your head. You were leaning in closer and you put your unoccupied hand to his chest, grabbing the fabric of his shirt.

You were smiling, listening to his heavy exhale as you pulled back just a bit. While his eyes remained shut, you lowered your head, moving in for his throat. “If you wanna talk about inviting…” He sharply inhaled, clearly caught off guard when you dragged your tongue across his skin. “This part right here is so very inviting.”

You handed the wine glass back to him, not wanting any distractions as you started to lavish his neck in so many enthusiastic kisses. You didn’t know where the glass went after this, all you knew was that both of his hands were on you. His fingers were sliding into your hair and he was pulling you in closer, with a firm hand on your back.

You slipped your hands in under his shirt, pushing the fabric up without a single act of resistance from him. “And all of this…” He was wearing a smirk as he helped you remove the shirt. “This is especially inviting…”

You let your fingers roam all over his body, tracing the contours of his chest with the lightest touch. He released a shaky sigh, eyes fluttering shut as he brought you in for another kiss. You moved your hands to his pectorals, feeling the hot skin here.

You let your fingers go to his nipples, earning you a startled groan from him. When you gave them each a pinch, his arms around you tightened as he showed you just how receptive he was to this teasing. You were being brought into his lap as you gave his unpierced nipple a slight twist. His hands were so firm on you that you only wanted to play more, to bring more reactions out of him.

“What about the bedroom?” He asked in a whisper.

“Oh, I’ve always found that room to be very inviting.”

He agreed with a smile and another kiss, before getting up. He took your hands in his and you started down the hallway together.

Once in the bedroom, he turned to face you, a serious look in his eyes. “Are you, is this the right headspace for you? ‘Cause if you don’t feel right…” You interlocked your fingers with his, bringing your hands up into the space between your chests. “We don’t have to do anything that you don’t feel like.

“I love you.” He said and you maintained eye contact with him as you started to kiss across the backs of his hands. “We can literally just cuddle, if that’s all you wanna do…”

“I want more than a cuddle.” You said, bouncing up to kiss his lips. “The best thing that came from before, were all of those horny noises you were making and I wanna hear more, I wanna hear what you’ve got when I’m contributing. What do you say?”

“I say that you need to get your ass on that bed right now.”

You undressed each other, the process delayed by how often you were grabbing at him for a kiss, and vice versa. In the wake of these heated collisions, his eyes were on you - taking in every detail, like the most astute student. You were already feeling a different energy to the earlier encounter, almost as if it had happened in a separate home.

“No punishments, no characters, no rules.” He was saying and you laid yourself back from where you had been sitting at the edge of the bed. “Just you and me.”

You sighed happily, closing your eyes as you waited for him to join you. You heard a drawer opening and you heard the crinkling of a condom wrapper being ripped.

The noises that followed this were slight and, as you held your eyes shut, you weren’t sure what he was doing. He just kept you waiting.

And when you did open your eyes, sitting up a little as you did so, you found no obvious explanation for the delay. He was standing and looking straight at you, with nothing in his hands to distract.

“What are you doing?”

He shrugged a shoulder, wearing a small smile that would have looked shy on anyone else. “Looking at you. Do you have any idea how incredible your body is?” This got you blushing and grinning. “I don’t think I would ever get tired of looking at you.”

“What about me?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. “What if I get tired of waiting?”

“How rude of me…” He said, placing a knee on the mattress alongside you. You saw him raise his other leg, but then he paused, seeming to change his mind over climbing on top of you. “Actually, I might like to stay standing.” He touched his tongue to his finger briefly, then reached down, caressing your exposed stomach with this finger. He had started to grin as he drew an invisible line down your front. “Then I can just watch you, I can take in all of this body. Is that okay with you, kitten?”

“Yep, but…” You laid your back flat upon the mattress again. “I was expecting kisses, so I hope you know that you’re gonna owe me a whole lotta kisses later.”

He blew a kiss in your direction. “I’m gonna save all of my kisses for you, baby.”

As you laughed, he readjusted, placing both feet onto the ground and standing between your parted knees. Your legs were moved further apart as he placed his hands beneath each of your knees. With your legs spread far enough, he could now stand directly against the bed - the distance between the two of you greatly decreasing.

Next, he lifted your legs a little, tilting your hips. Your eyes met and you could see a fire burning in his eyes - this matched perfectly to what you were feeling in your gut. From this thorough gaze, to the firm way that he was holding your legs, it felt like so many things were being said.

All of the reassurances, all of the validation - these were present.

Even though the next noises in the room didn’t come until you were gasping as his body weight rocked forward, his length beginning to fill your pussy. You hummed happily and let your eyes flutter shut, sinking into this feeling. Gradually, he eased himself further in and you heard groans in response to the excited spasming of your pussy.

You smiled, revelling in every sensation currently on offer to you. You didn’t lament the things you weren’t receiving - like the feel of his lips on yours or his body heat covering you or his tongue in your mouth.

You became so consumed by what you could feel, you concentrated on the connection, which only got better, more exciting, when he started to pump into you.

“Oh Dadd-ee…” You croaked, arching your back.

You started to grind against him, meeting his movements and increasing the impact. Your hands curled into tight fists around the bedsheets on either side of you, more of your muscles clenching as the pleasure swelled up within you.

He found a consistent rhythm for his rocking, plunging relentlessly into you, with only one hand that held your hip, to help brace him. His other hand couldn’t land on a set spot - it seemed there was too much of your body that he wanted to explore. Each time that you opened your eyes, it was to find him greedily taking in every inch, his eyes committing every feature of your body to memory.

It was a thorough inspection, his touch moving just as much as his eyes did. He had so many different parts of your body tingling, with certain spots bringing out louder reactions than others. With that look of fierce focus on his face, you were beginning to feel like an instrument - something for him to play with as he saw fit.

His hand glided over your breast, ghosting over the stiff nipple, eliciting a sensation like being tickled. The next moan that this brought from you bubbled, similar to a giggle, and you squirmed under him. He licked his lips, watching you as he brought his hand back to your breast. This time, he placed his fingers to your nipple, your breath catching in your throat. When he gave the hardened peak a gentle pinch, you couldn’t help crying out.

This was immediately followed by his loudest moan yet. “Fuck me- unf…”

He bit into his lip and you felt him pinching your nipple a little harder. You felt a sharp spike of the arousal inside of you, your nerves dancing. The increase of your sensitivities was instant and daunting, so much so that you started to pull back from it - to save yourself from coming too quickly.

Even though it felt fantastic, you put your hand around his wrist, aiming to detach him. He went with this and you met his gaze. You pulled his hand up, and he didn’t need any instructions, his fingers fixing around your throat once it was close enough.

“Is that good- do you like that?” He asked, his fingers conformed to the shape of your throat, without squeezing.

You purred, bending your knees so that your feet could meet at the small of his back. You crossed one ankle over the other. “God, it’s so good. Give it to me, Damiano. I fucking love it.” You were lifting your butt from the bed, all of your energy put into matching his intensity. “I love it, ah, oh, God.”

Having his hand at your throat brought a delightful rush to you and you were reminded of how breakable you were. It would be effortless to give in and be entirely weakened before him.

You got closer to losing it altogether when he pressed his thumb to your aching clit. You jolted up into him, a shock to your entire system.

“Daddy, oh fuck…” You whined, louder than before.

His tempo had been ruined when you jerked into him. As he sought to recover his momentum, he also employed a new position. He lurched forward, his torso coming closer to you. Now you could hear just how short of breath he was, but he didn’t give up this desperate chase for the release.

The pressure building up inside of you was incredible, so much heat rushing to your pussy as you gasped, slack-jawed and ready to go completely limp. It was overpowering you as you squirmed, making every effort to rub yourself against his body.

His hand left your throat, grabbing for the sheets above your head as more-and-more of his body crashed into you. “Mm, fuck- fuck.” His hot breath coated your chest and you grabbed a handful of his hair. “You’re so goddamn tight, it’s- oh, shit. You’re gonna drain every fuckin’ drop out of my balls.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You whimpered, feeling a wild passion taking over you. “Yes, fuck yes.”

He broke first, your name filling the room as he achieved the climax he had been awaiting since the fleshlight’s introduction. His movements halted and stuttered, losing all momentum, until he was quivering on top of you.

“Oh God, babygirl…” He panted.

You were still so close to that edge, your signal to keep going coming from his hand on your ass. He was lifting you up, pushing you into motion. You moved slower than before, trembling as the dazzling tingles radiated through your body.

Your walls fluttered around him stronger than before as the stimulation from the inside and the outside reached a perfect peak. You wrapped your arms around his head, jerking into him one last time.

Then you were dissolving with a cry. You fell back onto the bed, with no more energy left. You had given everything that you had to that perfect connection - satisfied as the afterglow covered you.

You came back to reality, feeling like you were glowing as he covered your cheeks in kisses. He moved up to your sweaty brow as you relaxed, letting your limbs fall away from their tensed positions.

“How do you feel?”

You smiled, your eyes opening as he moved to lay beside you. “I feel like I’m your good girl again.”

“That’s because you are.” He said and poked you on the nose, making you giggle. “When do you want your kisses, now or later?”

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