#damiano david fluff

[oro-e-diamanti]

8 PWEASE - female reader is on vacation with Dami and friends and the power goes out which is all fun and games when she is with everyone downstairs but when they all go to their own rooms to sleep she panics and can’t sleep and ends up knocking on on Damiano’s bedroom door with tears running down her face and says that she is afraid of the dark and he invites her in and distracts her from it being dark with some smutty-ness and perhaps a blindfold (“now it doesn’t matter if we can turn the lights on or not because I’m not letting you see anyway”)

Perhaps she turns to Damiano because he had noticed her being anxious about the power being out earlier and asked if she was okay then and she tried to play it cool but now she can’t and she needs him to comfort her and protect her

YOU ARE THE BEST🤘🏼

Thank you so much for the request!! I hope you enjoy it 💕

"I might be afraid of the dark."

Damiano + fluff / smut

The first crack of thunder catches you by surprise. You hadn’t been aware of any thunderstorms in the forecast – and you usually kept track – and yet, when lightning illuminates the room for a split second, there is no doubt about one being much too close to the house for your liking. The laughter of the group around you briefly makes room for “oooh”s and “aaah”s but that remains the extent of their reaction.

You’re a little more unsettled. You hide it quite well, you think, until you catch Damiano’s eye. His face displays worry, a question, but even when you smile at him and he smiles back but you can tell he’s not convinced. You’re glad he’s not saying anything, as another round of drinks is passed around and someone starts a game of beer pong. A rowdy night in with your friends. A bit of alcohol, some silly games, catching up, it’s all you need.

Until the lights go out. There’s silence for about half a second before everyone starts talking all at once. You’re barely able to make out anything at all as the fear creeps up in you. Someone lights a candle, several phones are being held up to shine some light, but the unsettling feeling stays in your chest. Someone – you can’t quite make out who – jumps out behind a sofa to scare everyone. It only seems to work on you, but you try to keep your composure. Yet, once again, Damiano’s eyes are on you.

“Guys, come on, it’s no fun in the dark, let’s go to bed, we’ve still got one more night tomorrow, yeah?”

There’s a few mumbles but in the end, everyone agrees. You think you’re quite happy to retire to your room, lucky enough to snatch up one of the single ones before everyone else had arrived. But now you’re in your pyjamas, under the covers in your bed, distant thunder rumbling, and all you can focus on is the fact that it’s dark. Too dark. Not a single tiny light, no other houses or street lamps illuminating the outside, not even a little red dot on one of the various electronics in the room. Nothing.

You try, you really do. But the darkness seems too obvious, even when you close your eyes, and you can’t stop thinking about it. So, with soft footsteps and your phone in your hand to shine the way, you leave your room. It’s Damiano’s door you find yourself knocking on. He opens up much quicker than expected.

“I might be afraid of the dark,” you confess immediately. For a moment, you’re almost glad you can’t really see him or anything else, you don’t want to know which facial expression accompanies your statement. You’re embarrassed enough as it is.

You flinch at his touch. You hadn’t seen it coming, both because of the darkness and because you’d averted your gaze. But as soon as you realise what is happening, you move into him and against him, letting him engulf you in his arms and pull you into his room, door falling shut behind you. He manouvers you into the bed and only when the moonlight coming from his window hits your face does he see the tears spilling from you eyes. He wipes them away with care before pulling you into his chest.

You can barely see his face, the light from the distant moon hitting him just enough to know that he’s looking back at you. Neither breaks the eye contact. You’re so focused on trying to make out the nuances of his iris that you’re only fleetingly aware of his hand moving upwards, tracing along your side, and you almost want to dare him to brush against your chest. Your own hand is on his face, thumb stroking along his cheek, and it’s you who makes the move.

The atmosphere in the room changes in an instant. There’s a connection between the two of you that doesn’t need words as your mouths meet. With his arm tightly wrapped around you, as if frantically afraid of letting go, he gives you the utmost feeling of safety. And when his tongue touches yours, he’s giving you quite a different feeling altogether on top of it too.

You don’t notice you’ve closed your eyes, getting lost in the sensation of his hands and his mouth on you, until you open them again just to be reminded that it’s dark, worryingly dark, so dark you can barely make out Damiano at all, as a cloud pushes in front of the moon and robs you off your last bit of light.

Damiano notices you struggling immediately. He only hesitates for a moment, then his shirt is off his body, but instead of expectig you to react to the new show of skin, he pulls you into a sitting position and wraps the fabric around your head.

“There. Now it doesn’t matter if the lights are out or not because I’m not letting you see anyway.”

The terror you felt only moments before almost immediately transforms into heightened anticipation. Everything happens all at once, so quickly you can barely wrap your head around it, and at the same time, every second lingers, letting you fall deeper and deeper into everything that is being done to you. You let him take the lead, let him undress you, kiss you, touch you, mouth on your breasts, hands spreading your thighs. You’re a mess of sighs and moans, and every single time your head threatens to remind you of your fears, he instinctively surprises you, a flick against your nipple, his tongue on your clit, a movement a little rougher than expected. When he’s on top of you, between your legs, and asks for your consent, you can’t do anything but shout out an enthusiastic yes that you’re sure travels through the house more than intended.

Damiano pushes into you carefully, slowly, but as soon as he realises you’re comfortable and on the verge of begging for more, he increases his speed. Your hands are clawing at him, nails digging into his back, and it feels like all of your senses are impossibly heightened by a lack of vision. And, somehow, it makes everything better. His body on yours and his breathing, intermittently interrupted by deep groans, cause you to come undone much sooner than expected. Your legs wrap around his waist as you moan loudly through your orgasm, clenching around him tightly, and he follows before you’ve fully come down.

You barely register him moving off you, softly cleaning you off, removing the blindfold, but your eyes stay closed as your breathing still rattles in your chest. When you finally open your eyelids again, you immediately notice. The light coming from the house next door. The little red dot on the tv screen on the wall. The low hum of electricity. You turn to Damiano, his face relaxed and smug.

“How long has the light been on again?”

“Since about two minutes after I blindfolded you,” he grins, quickly pressing a reassuring kiss to your lips. “But isn’t it much more fun to stay in the dark sometimes?”

[taste-your-silhouette]

If not for you

Pairings: Damiano David xfem!reader

Contents: it’s just another fluff one

Summary:  Damiano can’t fall asleep, so he writes to you a song.

Words: ~433

A/N: Hey again! This weekend I’m going to post a smut with Damiano as a bonus after all this last fluff 🔥

It was a serene and balmy night in Paris, the sky was pitch-black, but amidst the dazzling city lights, Damiano could still catch a glimpse of a few twinkling stars. Everyone should've been fast asleep, blissfully embraced by their sweetest dreams, yet all Damiano yearned for was to slumber and experience a dream within your embrace.

Even in the coziest bed, he kept tossing and turning restlessly, unable to doze off, striving to discover a sufficiently comfy position to snooze. He grew increasingly exasperated at his inability to catch some Z's, for he was weary both physically and mentally. Merely hours ago, he had been performing on stage, belting out tunes, yet that alone failed to lull him into slumber.

Even as he grappled to clear his mind and drift into slumber, thoughts of the two of you together flooded his head. It hadn't been long since your last rendezvous, yet he yearned for you in a way that felt larger than life. On nights like this, being distanced from you felt like sheer torment.

You've been on his mind ever since you crossed paths, and now that you've started dating, Damiano couldn't be happier. He had never quite connected with anyone before meeting you. While Vic, Ethan, and Thomas were out partying and hitting up bars for fun during their downtime, he often felt the need to distance himself from everything and everyone. However, when you entered the picture... It was as if you injected a renewed sense of joy into his life.

In a split second, Damiano abandoned the idea of sleep and leaped out of bed, driven to express everything he was feeling. He scoured the room for his cellphone, but it had a low battery and wouldn't last long enough for him to craft an entire song on it.

"Shit battery," he groaned in frustration and began scouring the room for paper and pen. Once he found them, he strolled over to the balcony, gazing at the moon in the night sky. A smile crept across his face as he reminisced about you and your fondness for moon gazing. Right there, on the hotel room balcony, he made up his mind to plop down on the floor and start crafting a song dedicated to you.

If not for you, there'll be no summer, there'll be no spring if not for this love of mine. Thornes without flowers, bars with no drinks, if not for this love of mine. All the lights, all the parties will just fade out. Shut them down. If not for you, I wouldn't sing anymore...

[filthforfriends]

Shame and Pleasure

(Previously known as DILFiano)

CW: 24 year age gap!

Word count: 4.7k

Damia’s voice has some sort of hypnotic quality. It lulls you into a state where other thoughts are quieted, and your scope of focus narrows to sensation. Without thinking about it, you surge forward and hug Damia, slotting your face against the bone of his shoulder. Unintentionally, your unfiltered gratitude is what finally gets to him.

“Stellina, I want to do this a little differently.” His hand is gone so quickly that your body doesn’t know to stop moving with it.  For a moment, you’re thrusting against the air. Even without the cliroral stimulation, you were wound so god damn tight. Damia doesn’t wipe his fingers off. He crawls up to the headboard and arranges pillows behind his back so casually. Poise. You can’t help but feel betrayed. Bringing you so close to orgsam then pausing was mean. 

“Do you understand that we can stop whenever you want?” You nod, confused. “Are you absolutely sure you want to continue? I need a verbal answer for that.”

“Yes,” you state firmly.

“Take your skirt off so I can admire you.” Heart racing, you attempt to control your trembling hands on the zipper, but he sees. Damia waits for your face to reveal uncertainty while you strip. He observes none because there's none to observe. In fact, it's exactly the pointed attention you’d been craving. Damia opens the drawer in his bedside table. You take off the bra first, hoping he’ll look up to admire your underwear, that his breath will catch at all the expanses of taut and supple skin. Instead, his attention stays on the contents of the drawer. 

“Someones not very appreciative,” you tease. He spares an insultingly brief glance and gaffs.

“Cheap lingerie loses its thrill after your 20s.” Damiano freezes completely and winces. “Sorry, that…Christ, I’m sorry.” You can see his brain recalibrating to parental/nurturer to assess the damage he’d cause to your confidence. Admittedly, the snub stung, but reassurance wasn’t something women his age needed. So you didn’t need it either.

“You know what else lost its thrill? Razor wire in my asscrack. I’m never wearing those again.” He lets out a short series of awkward, barking laughs while you take a seat on the edge of the mattress. Damia appears mystified at how well you’re handling his slight. He's trying to see through the cracks in your facade and you're praying he can’t.

“Apparently I forgot that being an insensitive asshole is also supposed to stay in your 20s,” he sighs, cocking his head to the side. “God, what a dumb thing to say.”. 

“So…” you probe.

“I won’t kiss you,” he states absolutely. You make a dramatic sound of indignation. “So now that I’ve fucked up your arousal and the mood –” Playful, he draws out the first syllable of the sentence just as you had.

“There was a mood?” you chirp, crawling towards him. Recognizing it was an accidental admission. Damia leans over and checks Icarus’ location, which is very promising. He lets out a burdened sigh.

“Yes, there was a mood. C’mon, don’t be coy.” As Damia sits up, you move onto his lap. “Woah! Okay,” he throws his hands up.

“Want me to get off?”

“No,” he whines, like he’d prefer his answer to be a lie. “Well, I – hmm. This isn’t what I had planned.” Accidentally, you’ve switched the dynamic. This was the first time you’d seen Damiano more present than tortured. If you had control that meant, however much he may deny it, Damia had allowed you to. So you settle yourself in a straddle. Very slowly, Damia’s hands lower and come to rest timidly on your thighs.

“Will you take your clothes off?”

“Absolutely not,” he answers curtly. That rule was clearly nonnegotiable. Testing exactly where the boundaries lay, you lower a hand to Damia’s groin. The pajamas are navy so it takes a second to find his cock. He’s so hard he’s throbbing, which is no small achievement at 42, you’ve heard. Damia swats your hand away, refusing to meet your eyes.

“This isn’t about me.”

“This is about both of us. Stop kicking yourself for getting hard.” He shakes his head and looks away, scowling. “It's a natural reaction to stimulation, not a condemnation of your character, Damia. Fuck’s sake, be decent to yourself.” 

“Wise words,” he replies, cynically. He is so clearly overwhelmed with self-loathing that it hurts to watch. A better person would leave rather than make him face this.

“Why can’t I touch you?” 

“Because we aren’t going to have sex!” he snaps. That wounds you quicker than you can control your expression.

“But what the fuck am I supposed to do? Nothing? That’s cruel. Maybe I could be a decent human being and resist this if, if — you, I…” He tilts his head back and growls in frustration. “I didn’t even know you could make love to someone’s hand.” Now you’re the one plagued by self-consciousness. “If I hadn’t ruined it, you’d be able to grind on my hand to completion. Like…” Damia is so in awe that he’s speechless. He’s also damn near hysterical. It’s such a juxtaposition to your emotions at the moment. Damia’s burning shame morphs into a tingling sensation between your legs, just as fiery.

“You’re so pent and you desperately need someone to take care of you. So then what? I just send you off into the night for some high schooler that doesn’t know his herpes status or some college guy who treats you like you’re disposable? ”

“I already did go off into the night and pick someone.” You scoot closer to Damiano and watch that settle in.

“Your ability to always say the right things is gonna get you in so much trouble.” 

“I wanna be in trouble with you.” Another car drives by. Another piece of Damiano is illuminated by a slant of light. This one is jaded, dissatisfied with a life he knows should bring him joy. In reality, that life acts like an echo in an empty room, a reminder of how vast the unfulfilled spaces within him are.

“Why can’t I kiss you?”

“What I had in mind –”

“I know. But right now, why can’t I kiss you?” You lean in close enough to touch lips and stop. Damia clearly wanted to, but he had to instigate.

“I don’t know how I’ll feel about it.” His breath hits your face as he whispers.

“Last time –”

“Last time was amazing, but I’m afraid it will feel wrong. Guilt and arousal are opposites for me.” He clears his throat roughly. “Which is why it can’t happen.”

“Okay,” you switch to a whisper. “Could we start small and see how you feel?” 

“I…yeah. Or, no! Fuck.” He sighs heavily and closes his eyes. “I shouldn’t be doing this at all. What the fuck is wrong with me? I can’t believe –” You grab his hand and push it between your legs. “Oh my god…you’re already wet again.” You press your foreheads together and nod. Damia drags his middle finger between your labia, cupping your vulva to apply gratifying pressure. Meanwhile you kiss his neck.

“Do you like licking?” 

“Licking, biting, but not hard scratching.” You run your tongue up the column of his neck and trap his earlobe between your teeth. Very slowly, you pull downwards with your mouth and Damia shudders while he finally moans. Your tongue traces the shell of his ear, running behind it as well. It finally hits you that this is Damia inside your mouth. No, it's not as you had hoped, but the fact of it happening at all was mind blowing.

With every taste of salty skin, you said a little prayer, worshiping at Damiano’s altar. Some greater force, may it be sexual chemistry or supernatural, had brought you here. Cherishing and savoring Damia in every way possible was the only option you’d ever consider. Just the reassuring pressure of his hand made you pussy throb.

Having covered his neck, you start using your hands. One caresses where your tongue had already been, and the other pushed Damia’s hair back from his face. You kiss from jaw to hairline, not pecks, but slow and open-mouthed. Your body sways upwards with each inhale, each kiss, and downwards which each exhale, each parting of skin. There's nothing to grind against, but keeping time with the ebb and slow of sensuality just intuitively made sense. 

When you switch to the otherside, Damia stops you, his hand on your jaw, thumb on your chin. He holds your face completely still, and is totally stationary himself. Only his eyes move, and rapidly. Those two seconds last your entire lifetime. 

He pulls you in, loses courage, but the forward momentum has already been established. In the spirit of starting slow, the first kiss is chaste. Lips meet, then part. That’s all. Your eyes fly open, but Damia’s remain closed as he thinks. The hand between your legs pulls away. For a moment your stomach drops, but then you feel that arm wrap itself tightly around your lower back. 

This next kiss is just as demure, except Damia pulls your entire body against his. It’s that breath-taking physical intimacy from the rooftop, forceful, but on the right side of two much. Damia knew how to handle a woman. He didn’t touch you like you like there were 24 years of separation. 

“No.” He shakes his head, brow furrowed, pulling back. 

“Yes,” you insist, surging forward. “100% yes.” Instead of freezing up, you remember to embrace him back. The next kiss is so slow that the skin of your lips stick together as you pull away.

“Cazzo,” he grunts, eyes squeezed shut. “Are you sure?”

“So fucking sure.” You press your chest to his and the skin to skin contact changes everything. “Absolutely positive,” you moan. Your nipples harden against Damia’s sternum, body waiting in rapture for a caress or so much as a puff of air from a sigh. You’re left feral and clawing at him, mewling in an effort to achieve more contact. Damia’s chest hair tickled your nipples as they became so hard you whined in discomfort, rubbing against his warm sternum. 

You’re so overcome that Damia has to use his thumb to tug at the corner of your lips. As soon as you remember to open your mouth, Damiano's tongue is inside. The force of the kiss is literally bending you backwards. Rather than resist, you open your mouth completely and turn your head to eliminate the possibility of space. Total compliance. Allowing Damia to mold your body’s shape has an unique effect on him. Or perhaps it's your breast tissue that he so badly wants to feel with his tongue.

 Either way, his self control shatters. Damia forces you onto your back via his height advantage. His body lands on top of yours in missionary position and he groans in satiation, pulling the sound from as deep as his toes. You shrink into the mattress, both intimidated and overwhelmed with excitement. 

Damia’s teeth sink into the soft tissue on the inside of your bottom lip. Instead of pulling back you take the pain and squeal. His hips buck in response, clothed cock against your naked cunt. The sound you make is loud enough to remind Damia that he needed to employ critical thinking.

“This is why I can’t kiss you,” he gasps, pulling away. The babbling starts before your brain has even decided what you want to say.

“No! Please, please, please. No, it's okay. It’s – you can’t stop. You have to keep going. Damia! Damia, please don’t – god please, please don’t just stop. You can’t, Damia you can’t –” He kisses you once more to silence the begging.

“Shh, shh. Tesorina, let me help, hmm?” He sits back, pulling you up with him after settling his weight. Your movement is disjointed. It feels like you’re still in that moment, where you were exactly two layers of fabric away from Damia making love to you. How could that moment just end? How could he act like it was anything less than earth-shattering? He’s situated against the headboard again before he realizes how shell-shocked you are.

“Sweetheart, come here,” Damia beckons, firmly. You crawl upwards, tripping on his legs before he spreads them wide. He pats the space right in front of him. You kneel there, so aroused and confused and pent up that you might cry or scream.

“Turn around. Back to my chest.” It's awkward and unflattering to reposition. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give you whiplash. Just sit down and let me.” Damai wraps both tattooed arms around you, and drags you closer. Encircled in his grasp, his upper body curled over to fit perfectly against your spine, lips to your cheek, yes you understood now. It was so much more intimate than you had expected. 

Damia wanted to watch. He wanted to watch his hands touch you. Penetrate inside of you. He wanted to watch how wet you got. A vibrant color in your peripheral vision catches your attention. It’s one of a couple dozen sex toys in the open drawer. He follows your line of sight.

“Still a yes?” It was intimidating, but not a deterrent.

“Yes,” you pant. One of his hands wanders downwards. The anticipation throbbed in your cunt. You minutely roll your hips up to meet Damia’s touch, turning your gaze upward, because watching the act made you squirm. Impatient didn’t begin to cover it. More like you wanted to peel your first layer of skin off in anticipation. His fingers massaged your vulva, circled your hyman, spreading your pre-cum because he liked the way your pussy glistened.

“Touch me, touch me,” you grunt in frustration. “It hurts.” Your cunt was so engorged that the throbbing was painful. You didn’t deserve the teasing, had barely survived these weeks of anticipation. 

“It’s not fair,” you exclaim in anguish, and it’s not as if you could push his hand downward. Damia was already there. You’d never looked at yourself this way, so directly. Masturbating was always done under the comforter.

“Stellina, what's not fair?” he coos, then kisses your ear. You whine and buck, frustrated that none of the bedding was sturdy enough for grabbing to externalize intense sensation. Something rips.

“Ugh,” you growl. “I’m sorry, it’s just hhhuuh –” Damia pushes two fingers inside. All the way inside, so his hand is flush against your body. His left arm acts as a seatbelt while you tremble. Damia thrusts his digits in and out and your body makes embarrassing, wet noises again.

“My fault. I’m accustomed to teasing being a necessity. But you’re so responsive…” Damia rests his chin on your shoulder and drops his other hand to your pussy. He has the perfect vantage point to get exactly on your clit. It's unlike any sensation you’ve felt. A lightning bolt in your pelvis, more pain than pleasure. You yelp, leaning forward, and closing your legs tight enough to trap Damia. Whether it be to maintain the stimulation or quell its intensity, you do not know.

He follows, so you’re still chest to back. Even with his hands immobilized, Damia can still make tiny motions against your clit. Finally reduced to an animal, you hiss and kick the blanket off the bed as energy tightens around your hips.

“Stellina, relax,” he commands. You cross your knees and squeeze tighter, instead, rubbing your legs together to increase the stimulation. Pleasure it is, then. Your body had decided. With a tremendous exhale you release him, sitting upright. Damia continues to pay attention to your clit. His fingers curl towards your belly button again, internally. It’s not even distinctly enjoyable, just powerful and orgasmic. Could a person be so turned on that they couldn't feel pleasure?

Watching Damia’s hands becomes too visceral, so you lean your head back onto his shoulder and trust his skill set. Meanwhile, one of your fists is colliding with the fitted sheet and the other has found its way to gripping Damia’s thigh, sliding on the fabric of his pajama pants. This does absolutely nothing to anchor you amidst the stimulation. It only adds to the reservoirs of energy that you’ll be forced to externalize, whose pressure is mounted by Dami’s insistent clitorial stimulation. You’re reduced to damn near drowning in a sensation that can only be called So Good It Hurts.

“So close, but I can’t….I can’t, my – mm ah.” Damia switches his legs from being outside yours to inside. When your body tries to cramp down, he keeps you spread open and continues pleasuring you. The arm responsible for internal stimulation wraps around your ribs and holds you close, so every inch of your naked back is pressed to Damia’s.

“Take your time,” he murmurs. Damia’s hold you secure, left hand brushing his fingertips across your erect nipple. A troubled whine is your best attempt at communicating that you don’t want to take your time. Instead, Damia pinches your nipple, twists, and pulls. Finally, you’re submerged in orgasam and it doesn’t feel like drowning at all. It feels like breaking the surface. 

While cumming, you tense so hard it turns into convulsions. Then you nearly outright scream.

“Yes, sweetheart, be as loud as you want,” he encourages. This was so the opposite of teenage boys, shushing you because their parents might hear. Damiano curled forward when you did, relaxed back with a sigh when you did, but his finger on your clit never stopped.

“Uh ah, oh my god. Wha –’” gasp. “What you, are you doing?” Damia chuckles in your ear and lets go of your waist. He reaches into the drawer and pulls out a magenta vibrator. It's unintimidating, only about four inches long.

“Keeping momentum.” Damia replaces his pointer finger with the head of the toy, which was still turned off. “Still a yes? Are you still sure?”

“Mm, mhm.” The surface of the vibrator was so smooth and the material almost soft. It must be really high grade silicone. You nod, still struggling to catch your breath. 

“I need a –”

“Yes!” you exclaim, interrupting him. Even so, when you check on Damia, it's clear he’s beating himself up again. Reconfirming consent had pulled his mind away elsewhere and finding the right words with a throbbing pussy was challenging. 

“Hey, I said yes to doing this to you.” He returns his focus with a tortured smile.

“I know sweetheart, your enthusiasm is noted.”  

“So why aren’t you here?” At first, Damia is preparing a counterpoint, but then he’s just genuinely shocked. “Get out of your own head. Be with me,” you huff. His ministrations between your legs briefly falter and you fear the worst, but his pointer and middle fingers return. You hear a barely audible click. The vibrator turns on with a quiet buzzing sound. 

“I assume you’ve never used a sex toy before, and the first time can be really powerful.” 

“Never,” you whisper. 

“So we’re gonna do a lot of talking. This is the lowest setting.” The vibrator hovers in the air, creating unbearable suspense. “This is how it feels,” he narrates. Instead of applying the toy to your clit, Damia brings it to your lower stomach. You tense from the novelty of the sensation, but after that passes, it's really gentle. He moves it back and forth, then further down, onto your pubic mound. 

“I’m okay, keep going.” Finally, he brings the silicone head against your clit, making clockwise motions. It’s like the normal pangs of pleasure one gets from clitoral stimulation, but less powerful, and on a much greater scale. He switches to counterclockwise rotations, stimulating the nerves in the opposite direction.

“One or two?” he murmurs.

“One, please,” you pant. The “please” makes his cock jump and Damia pretends that you can’t feel it, even as the sensation makes you grin. He tries stationary and making smaller circles, as well as moving vertically and horizontally. After each, he checks in for your preference. Discerning what felt best was difficult, because all the sensations were incredible. 

“Higher.” The buzz goes up in pitch and you jump as soon as it touches you. “Christ,” you pant.

“Do you wanna go back down or be gradual on this setting?” He’s already adjusted it back to the lowest setting.

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, breathless.

“You don’t know if you want to continue?” 

“Ugh no,” you groan, with an eye roll. “I don’t know how to cum twice. It feels like I’m full of, like, lightning or something.” 

“Full of lightning sounds like you’re about to cum.” Damia turns the vibrator back up a notch and you both want to thank him perfusing and curse him out.

“No, it’s barely been, unhh…we were trying stuff and – oh my fuck.” This orgasam felt more challanging than the last one. 

“The longer you touch yourself, the more blood flows to that area. So it actually gets more sensitive over time, which makes it easier to cum.”

“Momentum,” you gasp.

“Yes. I’ve been stimulating your clit continuously which certainly isn’t a chore with someone so god damn responsive,” he growls. That tone of voice belonged to a part of Damia that he’d never allowed you to see before. You run towards it with open arms.

“Tell me.”

“Tell you how much of a greedy piece of shit I am for taking these first times all for myself?”

“God, yes.” Your chest heaves as it struggles to adequately oxygenate your body. “My nipples,” you beg. Damia brings his left hand up to your neglected breast. It's rougher than you expected. He digs his blunt fingernails in while twisting. Then flicks the hardened nipple upon releasing and pinches it very firmly. You let your head fall back. Gravity is gone and things feel too floaty to hold yourself upright. He’s so solid behind you, watching every reaction.

Somehow, you’re able to meet his eyes and now Damia can’t look elsewhere. Locked in, he has to watch you cum. He aches as your eyes fall closed and your mouth open. Damia can feel your hands clawing at him and he manages to find your right and holds securely. It's your face that makes it possible to live with himself: peace, bliss. How amoral could it be? How disgusting could he be if he gave you this?

When you cum everything tenses with a vengeance, but the release is quicker and more profound. You see twinkling sparkles against the black backdrop of your closed eyelids. Those wells of nervous energy are as empty as they’ve been in years. It's like you can breathe for the first time, except you can’t breathe at all. The stimulation is gone, but your clit still beats with your heart’s frantic rhythm.

“Catch your breath, sweetheart. You’re okay.” Every effort comes out as a gasp. Damia wraps both arms around you, and shimmy’s down so he’s on the mattress. Laying naked on his bare chest, in his bed, as he calms you down from orgasam doesn’t even seem real. This moment belongs in your fantasy life and the cognitive dissonance is intense.

“Inhale, exhale,” he chants, rubbing your back. “Inhale, exhale,” is timed with his own breathing, which raises and lowers your head. Realizing that he’ll misconstrue this as a trauma reaction, you are very studious in evening out your breathing. 

“I’m really not having a panic attack. It was so good that I actually saw stars, I swear to god!” Damia snorts and you’re relieved not to find him amidst a moral crisis. 

“You saw stars because you hold your breath when you cum,” he laughs. “We would have kept going if I wasn’t worried about you passing out.” 

“Oh…” You're unsure whether to feel embarrassed about this subconscious habit. It had cost you orgsams from Damia, so the automatic response is vehement hatred. Judging his reaction while unable to see his expression was impossible, so you sit up and straddle his torso.

“Don’t worry, it’s common,” Damia chuckles and casually rubs your flank, face unchanging. Was it subconscious? Was it just meant to be a casual, comforting gesture between lovers?

“What should I do?” you manage to say.

“Well it can be a stress thing," he replies, thoughtfully. “You can also practice by yourself. The right partner might also be really helpful.” Your expression gives you away and Damia is backpedaling before you’ve said a word. “No! No, absolutely not. This is never happening again,” he declares with finality. Placing both hands on your hips, Damiano guides you off of his lap and to the edge of the bed. You stand with your eyes stinging from rejection.

“You do know that I don’t expect you to be my boyfriend or some shit? I’m attracted to you, you’re attracted to me. I am more than capable of discretion. We’re both consenting adults, but you make it into this exhausting moral quandary.”  He’s wide-eyed and taken aback, even sitting upright to conversate.

“I didn’t recognize that you were such a realist,” Damia admits, astonished. “But to be clear, for me this is some exhausting moral quandary, and you are far too intelligent for me to explain why.” 

“I don’t want some high school boy who doesn’t know his herpes status or some college guy that's gonna treat me like I’m disposable,” you counter, using Damiano’s own words against him.

“Y/n.” he holds his hand up. “Your friend’s father is not the alternative.” There's nothing to say, because you’re both right. For a moment you just stare while tension wraps a hand around each throat.

“It’s absurd for me to have any expectations of you. I apologize and you’ve been so…” you search for the least controversial adjective, “generous.”

“It's nice to see you act your age for once, actually,” he huffs. The man that had growled in your ear and watched your pussy leave a wet spot on the bedding was gone. To fill his place, a new iteration of Damia had been created for your benefit alone. He was a nurturer who didn’t entertain false pretenses about this connection being normal. How many mirages could Damiano make before forgetting how to experience his own thoughts and feelings altogether?

“You understand that I can’t let you leave this room thinking that this is going to happen again?”

“Yes,” you reply in monotone. 

“Alright.” He stands with a groan and picks your bra, underwear, and miniskirt off of the floor. In the meantime you retrieve your shirt from the otherside of the bedroom and pull it on. It's strange how a person can go from having three fingers inside to avoiding your hands touching as he passes clothes over. A hint of magenta in your peripheral vision catches your attention. The vibrator still lay in the sheets, undisturbed by this excruciating turn of events.

“Are you still good?”

“Yeah.” No. Once your skirt is back on, Damia walks you through the doorway. After such intense intimacy, any level of personal space feels awkward. You’re not expecting him to pull you into a hug, so much so that your arms hang by your sides. He strokes your back with a steady, warm hand, wrinkling the thin fabric while pressing his lips to your scalp. You’re aware that this embrace is Damiano’s way of communicating his feelings, but you haven’t a fucking clue what he’s saying. 

It was unlike any hug you’d received from an adult man, another first Damia was taking from you, but this time he didn’t realize it. Finally, you embrace him back and press your face to his bare chest. His skin smells delicious as always, especially after sweating a little. Damia wraps his arms tighter, hand moving to rub back and forth across your shoulder blades. He kisses your head again. 

This is an emotion you didn’t have a name for: so safe that the urge to cry abates. Simultaneously, that very same feeling makes you tear up because it's safe to cry. Was this the hug you were missing throughout your childhood? Was this how a male parental figure was supposed to make you feel? Your unaffectionate father had left you no frame of reference. 

“Okay, good night.” When he pulls back, you can’t decide if you want to kiss him. That consideration quickly becomes mute, because Damia won’t look at you. Instead, he just closes the bedroom door in your face.

Notes: Sorry. 🤧 (You can now opt out of age gap fics by resubmitting your preferences to my taglist) I was unable to tag people for two months so you probably missed the last installment, which can be read here.

- XOXO Eden

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[marlena-immortale]

Damiano taking care of you when you get home drunk after a night out 🥺.

Being a mess and and a little dizzy, and him helping you put on comfy clothes, maybe take off your make up. He would make sure you would sleep on your side in case you need to throw up, and him laying beside you holding you close 😩😩😩😩

Aww I love this!

You coming home a little later than expected and Dami is all worried for you, seeing how drunk you are. You try to convince him you're fine but he just laughs, having to hold you up and help you to the bed so he can get you changed into your pajamas as you're all giggly and talkative, telling him all about your night out with friends and telling him how much you love him. He knows this of course but he still thinks you're cute when you drunkenly confess your love to him. You let him gently wipe off your makeup and kiss your forehead before he makes sure you drink plenty of water and have a little snack before tucking you into bed and cuddling up nice and snuggly with you.

[reputationdamiano]

dandelions

pairing: damiano david x reader

warning(s): one mention of blood in person's veins

word count: 631

summary: when you and damiano find a field of dandelions, your vacation in french countryside can’t get any better.

a/n: over a year ago, a certain person made a playlist for me, this song was in it. i still find it very beautiful and it inspired me to write a short fic. as you may see, i’m trying to improve my writing. i also want to thank @bidet-and-legolas for proofreading 🤍

dandelions. 

there were hundreds of thousands of them. sitting on the ground, surrounded by them, you felt like a plant from a different ecosystem which has been gradually putting down its roots. 

a light breeze seemed to be moving feather-like clouds high above the planet. the temperature was the optimum in which you felt most at peace with reality: high, but not a suffocating heat. 

while slowly approaching you, damiano took all of his steps like a spy. in his eyes, you were a masterpiece and he was admiring you.

your hair was falling down in cascades over a flaxen dress the color of freshly harvested peaches. you were holding one of the flowers in your hand with great caution, like it was the last one in the world and you could save the species from going extinct. 

“what are you thinking about, bella?” your boyfriend asked, and sat down on the grass. he began tracing the tattoo on your arm with his fingers, just like he did a week after you got it and finally took the protective film off it. damiano loved every inch of your skin and always let you know about it. 

“i’m wishing on those little things” 

this was true. when you encountered this field about ten minutes ago, during your bike excursion in the countryside, it instantly reminded you of an old superstition. 

“and what are you wishing for?” damiano enquired, resting his head on your shoulder and intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“don’t you know saying it out loud is against the rules of wishing?” you replied half-jokingly. 

“come on, won’t you tell me?” damiano tried to convince you, looking at you with puppy eyes. 

“alright” you blew the seeds of the dandelion and watched them make their way through the lukewarm air. you looked into his hazel eyes and cupped his cheeks delicately.

“i wished that you’ll be mine forever”

then you closed your eyes and pulled him even closer. that’s when your lips met his in a soft kiss that was becoming more and more passionate every second.

when it came to an end, damiano’s eyes light up like sparklers. 

“your wish is going to come true, i promise” he beamed and looked at you fondly. 

“but i need you to close your eyes right now” damiano added. 

“um.. okay?” you didn’t have the slightest idea what he was plotting this time but you followed his instructions. 

he must’ve gotten up from the ground because your shoulders brushed and the space next to you seemed empty. 

you could feel the blood in your veins flowing faster and faster.

“dami, where are you going?” you couldn’t help but ask. 

“please be patient” his voice could be heard a few meters away from your sitting spot.  although you were hyped up, you kept sitting still, seeing nothing but darkness in front of you.

“well, you can open your eyes now” 

you finally lifted your eyelids to a sight of damiano kneeling before you. he was holding a little blue box with a shiny ring in it. the loving look on his face already expressed what he was about to say.

“i finally gathered the courage to do this. will you marry me, y/n?” 

the last five words were the confirmation that your boyfriend and you shared the same wish. you were convinced that no one could tear two of you apart, ever. 

your eyes glazed over as you reached for his hand. 

“yes” you exclaimed. the next thing you knew, you had a diamond ring on your finger. damiano pulled you in and your lips started moving in perfect sync. in that moment, it was like you were the only people on earth. 

“sei l’amore della mia vita” damiano confessed.

“i’ll be yours forever” 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

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[tellmesomething01]

even the teacher knows - Damiano David

warnings: make out not in details

pairing: student!damianodavid x student!reader

pov: 3rd person

summary: y/n likes damiano, damiano likes y/n. the one problem? they are classmates

a/n: kinda inspired from a situation between two of my friends and classmates. This sucks but i haven’t post in a lot and I’m planning something bigger that i will post soon, i hope.

“I want to play a little game, are you in?” The teacher asked his students and everyone agreed “So move all the chairs and stuff to the side” the teacher ordered and the students did what he told them.

“Pretend there’s a line in the middle of the classroom. On my right side there’s yes and on my left side, no”

“What about the middle?” Victoria, one of you classmates, asked

“That’s the ‘I don’t know’. But there is different shades of yes and no. Totally to the right is 100% yes but if you stay between the middle and the right is 50% yes. Do you understand?” the teacher asked and everyone nodded

“Good, I’m going to ask you a question and you are going to answer. So, I’ll start easy, who likes pizza?” The teacher ask and everyone moved totally towards the yes

“That was easy, I’ll do something more difficult, who knows what to do after high school?” Most of the student moved to the no, come stayed a bit in the yes and just a few totally in the yes. The teacher looked around and decided which student ask about their future: “Damiano, totally in the yes, what do you want to do?”

“Music” Damiano answered with all of his confidence, he knew what he wanted to do and he knew he could get where he wanted but the teacher almost laughed at his face “Sure, something more realistic?”

“I’m fine with my dream, thank you” everyone was looking at Damiano almost laughing except some students, Victoria, Ethan and Thomas, who recently formed a band with the brunette boy, and y/n, who knew how Damiano’s voice sounded when he sang and you loved it, she knew he could become famous because you knew he was stubborn and determinate. You just knew him.

The game kept going for other then minutes then the teacher changed, the Italian teacher entered the room, she was much more fun and kind then the other teacher. She loved having fun and joke with her students so, when one of the girls asked if they could keep going with the game, she immediately agreed. It was the end of the year, anyway.

“Are you happy?” The teacher asked but not everyone went to the yes side or 100% yes, well, teenage years ain’t easy anyway.

“Do you like, and I mean like like, someone in your class?” a boy and a girl went to the yes side, they were dating sing a couple of months; other two girls walked a bit to the yes side, they probably liked each other, but the rest of the class stayed in the no side until some of the students started laughing

“Oh come on, it’s not fun if you lie” the teacher chuckled looking at you and Damiano “y/n?”

You shook your head chuckling “I’m not lying” you said trying to not laugh, you knew you were lying

“Damiano?” the teacher said looking at him

“Is this the way to find out a thing like this?” Damiano asked

“Find out?” Victoria laughed along with Thomas and Ethan

“Oh boy, if she hasn’t understand until now, the poor girl is blind” the teacher said making you roll your eyes and walk towards the yes side, Damiano following along.

“Well, that’s better” the teacher said and kept going with the game.

***

A couple of hours later, during history’s class, Damiano walked past your desk and left you a note. The note wasn’t weird for you, you and Damiano always left notes for each other, the weird thing was that he left it just before heading to the bathroom.

‘I’ll wait you outside the bathroom’

“Teacher, can I go to the bathroom?” you asked

“Damiano just went” the teacher retested

“I know but it’s an emergency” you lied

“The go” the teacher shrugged

You walked out of the classroom and headed towards the bathroom and there was Damiano, waiting for you in front of the girl’s door.

“What’s up?” you asked

“Could you…check if someone’s in there?” Damiano asked pointing the the girl’s bathroom

You scratched up your face in confusion “okay” then you check the girl’s bathroom, knocking on every door before going back to Damiano “No one”

“Good” he mumbled before pushing you back into the bathroom and In one of the cabins

“What’s wrong?” you asked when you noticed that he didn’t have his normal cocky expression.

“We’re not gonna talk about what happed before?” he asked

“Dami, it was a game” you shrugged

“Yeah, but you moved to the yes” his eyes growing wider and his pupils getting bigger

“After the teacher accused me of lying”

“Okay, we’re not getting to the damn point. What if I told you I wanted to move to the yes in the first place but you didn’t move so I didn’t?” he asked

“I would ask you, why the hell you haven’t done anything yet” you replied, for the first time you were the one wearing a cocky smile, you were the one challenging him.

“You are…unbelievable” Damiano chuckled then lined in and kissed you and, god, that felt good, like you waited for it all your life. His tongue slipped between your lips when you quietly moaned. His leg between your thighs gently brushing to your clothed core but you two pulled apart when you heard Victoria’s voice call you “y/n, you okay? The teacher sent me to check on you”

“Yeah, Vic, I’m okay. Is there anyone else out there?” you asked

“No one”

“Good” you said walking out of the cabin holding hands with Damiano

“Jesus, finally” Victoria sighed

[mydeadgaywizards]

rip sirius black, he would have loved Måneskin

[gotheskin]

hi, my name is jess, my pronouns are (she/they), welcome to gotheskin (mia goth + måneskin), a blog where i will be writing and posting about different celebrities.

about me (in progress)

requests are: open

(be specific in your requests by stating the character(s), & the basic kinks and/or plot points!)

people i write smut / fluff / angst about are:

måneskin [masterlist here]

damiano david

ethan torchio

victoria de angelis

thomas raggi

one piece live action (2023) [masterlist here]

monkey d. luffy

roronoa zoro

nami

vinsmoke sanji

koby

captain buggy

dracule mihawk

shanks

dune (2021+24) [masterlist here]

paul atreides

chani kynes

princess irulan

feyd-rautha harkonnen

margot robbie characters [masterlist here]

naomi lapaglia (wolf of wall street 2013)

harley quinn (suicide squad 2016 / birds of prey 2020 / the suicide squad 2022)

barbie (no smut for barbs, our ace queen) (barbie 2023)

mia goth characters [masterlist here]

(young) pearl (pearl 2022)

maxine minx (x 2022 / maxxxine 2024)

pedro pascal characters [masterlist here]

joel miller (the last of us 2023)

din djarin (the mandalorian 2019)

matthew lillard characters [masterlist here]

stu macher (scream 1996)

tim laflour (senseless 1998)

shaggy rogers (no smut for him either!) (scooby doo 2002)

misc characters [masterlist here]

tiffany valentine (bride of chucky 1998)

tangerine (bullet train 2022)

elvis presley (elvis 2022)

ken (barbie 2023)

artists i post about are:

chappell roan

måneskin

king princess

kim petras

[tiredeyesight]

potential partners

description : in an interview ethan got asked which artist or band he wants to collaborate with, he says y/n leaving thousands to start shipping the two of you causing your first interactions out of many

word count : 374

a/n : this was so bad omg, i might rewrite it in the future but i need to get a fic out i’m so sorry. anyways even though thsi is really bad hope you enjoy !!💓

ethan was preparing for an interview smiling at the talk his band mates and friends were saying. a little while later they went out into the interview room organising themselves and sitting down waiting. the interviewer came into the room and they heard the count down, ‘3, 2, 1 begin.’ the interviewer welcomed måneskin and saying thanks for joining them today. then the questions began.

the questions were more or less the same as the normal interviews they attended to but then they started asking for personal opinions about other music related stuff. ethan then got asked, ‘ethan, if you could choose any band to collaborate with what band would you choose?’ ‘y/n without a doubt.’ ‘and why is that?’ ‘i think their music style fits similarly to ours and they seem super fun to hang around. plus they have the same energy on stage as us so it works really well’ ethan answered smoothly.

the interview came to a end and they got thanked for attending yet again. the four of them gathered their things and left to go grab some drinks.

the interview was released a few weeks later and the comments exploded with how good and you and ethan would be together, some even created a ship name within a matter of minutes.

you were scrolling through instagram when you saw that you had an excessive amount of tags with ethan torchio, the drummer from måneskin. intrigued by why everyone was going ballistic over an interview you went to go find it. after watching around ten or so minutes you found that the ethan torchio wanted to collaborate with you.

after a few minutes debating whether or not you should you decided to dm ethan, you rewrote the message so many times it was horrifying that you ended up leaving it alone for a few hours out of nerves.

as you getting ready to go out to run a few errands a notification stood out to you. ‘@ethantorchio messaged you on instagram’ you basically ran to your phone and opened the message. ‘hey! i don’t know if you have seen the interview or what the fans are doing but i’d really like to meet up some time you seem super cool:))’

[oro-e-diamanti]

Omg yaaas prompts are BACK ❤️ may I pls request number 16 "I missed you like I never missed anyone before." it made me think of the meaning of The Loneliest… what if it’s Damiano coming back from the writing session in LA and showing the reader the song

“I missed you like I never missed anyone before.”

Damiano + angst/fluff

There’s a fog over the airport when he arrives. When you hope he arrives. Worse, yet: Even if he does, you have no certainty whether he wants to see you or not. You can’t even being to describe how that’s making you feel.

You watch as the planes take off and land, one after the other, so many people, everyone with their own little stories, going somewhere, going home. You wonder how many have knots in their stomachs similar to yours. How many are on the way to the unknown. Who aren't sure who will greet them when they arrive. How it might change their lives, or not at all.

The arrivals hall is busy, bustling with people, the sound of suitcases being moved over the smooth floor, announcements echoing, mothers crying, children screaming in play or displeasure, lovers kissing, being reunited or torn apart. You wonder which one will be happening to you today.

The arrivals screen changes to “landed” where his flight is listed. Your heart drops, misses a beat, then comes back to life with twice the force. The uncertainty makes you feel like throwing up. You've always been the type to get queasy with anticipation and nerves. Only, you miss the times it would happen with the widest smile on your face and butterflies in your stomach, happily taking all the physical symptoms in the eyes of the excitement of him coming back home to you. Now it was pure anxiety.

The time until the first passengers walk through the doors and into the hall takes an eternity. It leaves you with too much time to think. Nothing else will occupy your time enough not to let your thoughts drift.

A break. You can’t even recall whose deranged idea it was. A fight that escalated in ways it never had before. You didn’t want to get loud and mean and unfair. Neither did he. It wasn’t about him. It wasn’t about you. It was the situation, it was his job, it was your responsibilities keeping you away from him, it was his accusation of not making enough of an effort and yours of not making compromises. It seemed silly the very second the fury had subsided. But the bad taste in your mouth lingered. A break. A chance for both of you to figure out what you want. A three-week trip away from home for him, three weeks of physical pain from the intensity of missing him.

You can’t count how many times you found yourself wondering if he was missing you too. At all. You had no way of knowing. Both of you had agreed to no contact. Take the time to really think things through. Find out if you still wanted each other in your lives and if yes, in which way. Pure torture. You even refrained from contacting the rest of the band, unwilling to bring any of them into your weird, messed-up situation. Only one message had reached you.

Our flight back gets in at 7 pm tomorrow.

You thanked the heavens for Vic. You still aren’t sure if he knows about the text at all, but that’s the least of your current worries. For now, you’re here. For now, you’re waiting for him.

You hate the way the sliding doors keep closing after each passenger, leaving you anxious and impatient for it to open again, just to see another stranger’s face. You still stare at each and every one of them intently, as if you could find him in their features, or gather any knowledge about him at all.

Ethan appears first. He spots you quickly, to your own surprise, since there are multiple people waiting for loved ones and business contacts and you’ve taken to hiding in the crowd. The fear of getting rejected while standing front row for all of these people to see was too humiliating. Ethan gives you a quick wave, puts his sunglasses on, and leaves. You assume he’s looking for their driver. You passed him by earlier but resigned to standing far away from him.

Thomas and Vic walk through the doors at the same time, she’s animatedly talking, hands moving around as much as possible with a heavy-looking bag in tow, he seems tired and not quite in tune with her energy. He spots you too and you can see him change course, direct his feet toward you, but Vic intervenes, a quick look over her shoulder, a soft smile for you, then she pulls Thomas away.

Then he’s there.

Damiano.

The love of your life. The one that left you wondering if you were his too.

He looks rougher thank you’ve ever seen him. And you’ve been there for a lot. He’s wearing a baseball cap and it’s pulled down into his face so much you would have missed him if you hadn’t been looking out for him in particular. You can still make out the dark circles under his eyes, pale skin that looks like he hasn’t been taking care of himself. There’s no energy in his step and he doesn’t look up.

But you need him to see you.

Stepping forward is all it takes. As if drawn in by an innate knowledge of you being around, he looks up, scanning his surroundings for the first time. It only takes a moment before he’s looking straight into your eyes. He doesn’t hesitate as he sets off your way. Your heart is pounding so hard you’re convinced you’re in danger of passing out.

But then he reaches you, his bag dropped and forgotten, and his arms wrap around you so tightly it feels like he’s attempting to make you a part of him. You don’t resist at all, molding against his chest, biting back the tears you don’t want to see on your face in a public setting.

“I-” His voice is hoarse and he immediately stops himself but you assume it’s not just because he sounds off. His eyes flicker away from your face, unable to ignore the people gawking around you. “Not here. Can I- can I take you home?”

You would love to tell him with a kiss. You nod instead.

Your eyes are scanning over the page, struggling to make out any single thought that has been put down on it, and for once it’s not due to Damiano’s handwriting. Your brain is clouded with panic and fear of rejection, you’ll be the saddest part of me, a part of me that will never be mine, words crossed out and re-written, underlined and hasty, the paper slightly crumpled at the edges, it’s torturous. You’re not entirely sure what to make of it, how to sort your thoughts. When you look up at Damiano from your spot on the couch, he’s pacing.

“I couldn’t write about anything but you,” he finally says. “The break… I wasn’t sure if I would see you again. I was completely prepared to have to beg and cry and fall on my knees for you to give me another chance.”

He crouches down in front of you now, holding out his hands to you. You take them immediately as relief floods his eyes.

“And I… I missed you like I never missed anyone before. And this,” he says, only briefly removing his hand from yours to point to a specific passage, “is all I want you to know.”

Cause I don’t even care about the time I’ve got left here The only thing I know now is that I wanna spend it With you, with you, nobody else here

It’s only when you laugh that you realise you’ve started crying. Damiano looks up at you, startled, already wiping away the tears from your cheeks.

“That’s awfully dramatic,” you say with a smile on your face. Your eyes are still watering but the weight has been lifted off your whole body, not just your chest. You feel so light, you’re convinced anything is possible right then and there. Damiano can’t keep the chuckle in either.

It’s not over. There’s a future. He missed you like you missed him. You can do this.

You grab his head into your hands and pull him toward you, finally, finally, putting your lips on his.

“I love you,” you mumble against him.

“I love you,” he replies.

“Good,” you grin, pressing another kiss on his mouth. “Only promise me one thing.”

“No more breaks?” he offers with a laugh.

“Well, that too, but I thought that was a given.”

“Anything you want, amore.”

“Record that song.”

[taste-your-silhouette]

I'm gonna fly straight to you

Pairings: Damiano David xfem!reader

Contents: Fluff

Summary:You and Damiano are cuddled up in bed, brainstorming epic future adventures together.

Words: ~694

A/N: Hey again! Haha, well, I hope you dig it and forgive me again if you come across any errors while reading. 

You and Damiano are lying  in bed at a cool hotel room, it's almost sunrise, but you're still wide awake, chatting about all the things you dig about the world and each other. Damiano is in the midst of their tour, so it's been tough for you both to find quality time together. But now, you've hit your limit and couldn't bear being apart any longer, so Damiano figured out a way to fix that, whisking you away to the country they're visiting this weekend. You should be catching some Z's, Damiano, especially since he was rocking it on stage a few hours ago and will have to be back again in a few hours to jam out for the upcoming day that's about to kick off. "You need to sleep and get some rest, and I should let you do that, but damn, it feels amazing being all cozy in this bed with you. Your voice so close to my ear is pure bliss." Damiano leans in even closer, plants a sweet kiss on the top of your head, and whispers, "In just a few weeks, we'll have endless nights like this until the next tour kicks off. Can't fucking wait." "I can't wait too! I'm gonna be glued to you every single night, and you better get ready, 'Cause you'll be serenading me with all those love songs you've been keeping under wraps," you exclaim, bubbling with excitement . Damiano chuckles, thrilled at the idea of finally unveiling those unfinished and top-secret tunes he's been penning to soothe the ache of longing whenever you're apart. "Let's have epic nights filled with those tunes," he suggests, and you grin, eagerly anticipating those days that are just a tad out of reach. "Oh, we should totally hit up that spot we spotted on Instagram! Let's take a rad getaway, it's gonna be pure magic," you mused, lost in daydreams of the two of you chilling in a cozy beachfront cottage, frolicking in the waves . And out of the blue, you and Damiano were brainstorming ideas for mini adventures during the gap between Måneskin tours. Like always, when you two dive into future plans, you get lost in a world of fantasies, reveling in the joy of envisioning a shared future. Your love is so strong that even the simplest of plans they conjure up are bound to be epic. "I gotta confess, I thrive on the tour energy and the love from our fans when we're rockin' the stage, but you know what I love even more? Snuggling up with you every night and waking up by your side every mornin' ," he declares, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. "And drift off in each other's embrace." You interject, sporting a grin. You carry on talking about the your future, but you notice Damiano speaking with his eyes shut, seemingly drained and on the brink of succumbing to exhaustion. "Rest, amore mio," you murmur, planting a tender kiss on their cheek. "Hmmm, nope. I ain't dozing off, still wide awake," he responds with a drowsy tone. You can't help but beam at the sheer charm oozing from this guy, who's holding you tight and whispering sweet nothings. "I don't wanna sleep, y/n. 'Cause having you by my side feels so damn good, I don't want this to end and then spend weeks and weeks apart from you again. "Chillax, cuore mio. Soon we'll be reunited and have a blast with all our epic plans and then some, alright?" you reply. "Alright, let's sleep then. That way we'll be one step closer to that awesome future," Damiano says, feeling more at ease with his response. "I love you, Damiano. Sweet dreams." "I love you too, y/n. I fucking love you." And just like that, the two of you drifted off to sleep. You in Damiano's cozy inked arms and he in yours, just as it will be soon.

[filthforfriends]

Bonus Chapter

Alpha!Damiano Omegaverse

Word count: 9.6k

Read the actual fic on my Masterlist!

You’d missed the first bus after school and were now running almost half an hour late. It’s not that Damiano would leave the amphitheater without you, but you texted him last minute. So last minute that he wouldn’t even get the message until after practice. Your heart only sank further when the parking lot came into view and you saw how few cars were left. He was probably hungry and bored out of his mind so you jog the rest of the way.

His car isn’t in the lot. That can’t be right, so you go the double check up close. 

Where are you?

Damiano attended these practices like clock-work. You mosey towards the field in case someone can tell you if Dami went home early and why. Star quickly walks past you, giving a tight-lipped smile and a small wave, indicating that he very much wasn’t feeling social. From inside the structure, a familiar voice you can’t place calls you over.

“Y/n, Dam is over here!” You feel sick while breaking into a run, but when you round the corner, the only people on the field are Julio and Nikolai. They’re bent over cackling at your concern, hands propped just above their knees. Immediately you see red.

“Weren’t you banned from the team?” You try to look down on them from a distance, even though they’re both taller than you.

“I’m not banned from the amphitheater. I just can’t use it when Romero has it booked for practice.” Julio spits back in venomous tones, meanwhile Nikolai is texting someone amidst snide chuckles. It’s then that you remember Damiano has his hearing with the collegiate board right now. He’s on the other side of town.

“Whatever.” You turn to leave, taking out your own phone to ask Clio for a ride.

“Oh and she gives up so easy!” Nikolai is goading you like you’re some young alpha, hell bent on proving herself. Omegas aren’t fighters. In fact, you can’t fight, and this knowledge plants a seed of fear in the pit of your stomach. Surely they didn’t plan to harm you and risk real consequences. You clutch your phone in your right hand and walk towards the exit.

“Not so invincible now, huh?”

“This is what happens when bitchy omegas don’t have their bitch-boy alphas to protect them.”

“Call me mediocre again. I fucking dare you.” The sound of Nikolia’s voice raises the hair on the back of your neck and you know you need to get out of here. When you speed up your pace, they follow, footsteps growing ever nearer as they jeer. 

“He hasn’t bred you yet, so there's still some hope of finding an alpha to put you in your place.” 

“I would give anything to see that,” yells Julio. The faster you walk, the quicker they follow, so you try to slow your pace and manage your racing heart. If you can just get to the parking lot you’ll be in plain view of houses and the skate park. Finding bystanders was a tactic embedded into your psych before primary school. You got to the cement hall that ran under the building and noticed someone coming towards you. 

In the shadows, you think you’re in luck; a bystander found you. His heavy work books click each step and then his face comes into view. It's the alpha that Damiano had to fend off three months ago. Turns out he went to Okoro Academy and hung around Romero after school, waiting for a vulnerable omega to victimize. 

“Hey, you made it!” calls Nikolai. His joy is a mockery of your fear, and you’re struggling to think straight. 

“Imagine my surprise when I found out my cousin Phoenix had been victimized by the same runt of the litter.” He grins when he says victim, enjoying the power trip and the irony. There’s no way to physically get out of this so you’re going to have to talk your way out. Fist fighting all three would be easier than making yourself demure and submissive. What do you want is too forceful, so you try to soften the sentiment.

“I don’t understand what you want me to do.” Phoenix breaks into maniacal laughter and the other two follow after a brief side eye. If they’re unsure about his actions that either means this front isn’t nearly as united as it looks or that you should be very scared.  

“I want corporal punishment so we can control upetty omegas that need to be fucking humbled and taught how to serve”

“And I don’t want mutants like Damiano to dirty the gene pool. He should be sterilized and kept away from the population.”

“How fucking dare you!?”

“Ah, there she is!” Julio says in a sing-song voice. He lunges at you, but it's a fake out, only a couple steps before he falls back, laughing cruelly. You’d tried to back up too fast and end up falling. Only one elbow was bleeding, but Julio’s eyes kept darting towards it. The contents of your book bag are strewn three feet down the hall. You crouch down while trying to clean it up, papers crumpled and haphazardly shoved inside. 

You’re so focused on looking at the ground that you don’t see Nikolai until his cleats come into view. Immediately, you straighten up like your spine is a titanium rod, eyes wide in fear at his proximity. Nikolai lunges at you too, so close you can see the storm in his irises. This time you fall hard, tripping over your bag and getting the wind knocked out of you when you land flat. At that point, all attempts at regulating go out the window while you struggle for a decent breath.

“Woah! Is she okay?” Julio is nervous and you stare at him with every ounce of panic and rage so this moment will haunt him, whatever happens to you. His eyes dart from one person to the next, but he never sustains a gaze.

“She’ll be fine. Maybe she should call her savior for help.” Nikolai cocks his head to the side and tries to put on a scowl. You still have your phone clenched in a fist and begin to type. But you stop yourself upon realizing that this was a trap. They know that Damiano will go scorched earth if your safety is on the line. Phoenix, Julio, and Nickolai probably think they can take him. Maybe they can and Damiano will destroy his body. Or, more likely he’ll destroy them. Either way Damiano will be excommunicated from society for his Alpha Dysregulation. Incriminating him was the whole point of this display of strength.

Forcing a deep breath, you bring your phone back to your side and stare at them willfully. Julio is the closest to breaking. He’s blanched and picking at his cuticles, clearly wishing he’s never volunteered to do this.

“I am not bait,” you spit, trying to back away. Their plan had failed and you were banking on them recognizing defeat. 

“Bitch,” Nikolai murmurs, spitting on your shoes and bowing his head. 

“See, I told you this wouldn’t work,” Phoenix finally speaks. His voice is monotone in a way that makes your skin crawl. It means that his friendliness three months ago was completely a mask. People who can mimic emotion so easily often lack empathy. It's all a performance for personal gain.

 You try to walk away but Pheonix blocks your path, stepping in front no matter where you divert. 

A quick glance over your shoulder shows that Julio and Nickolai are also unsure. When they notice you’re looking, both young alphas try to harden their expressions. Option one is getting past them and taking the next exit halfway down the field. Option two is avoiding Phoenix and bolting 15 feet. You decide on the second one and don’t even make it a full step before being shoved to the ground. You land on your fingers, rather than your left hand. Something pops, but not like a knuckle. At first, intense shooting pain moves all the way up your arm and then fiery throbbing pain settles in your hand. 

You’re shocked into silence, as is everyone else. When your body does register the injury, it’s trying to shut down to protect itself. To hide, to curl up, to become smaller, to become less noticeable, to limit points of vulnerability, to be silent, to survive. However, you can’t trust that Phoenix will leave you be. In fact, this act of wounding seems to stimulate him like nothing else has.   

Help

While the text goes through, you’re trying to share your location.

“Atta’ girl!” He shouts gleefully, thrilled his prey is finally doing something amusing. Phoenix rips your phone from your hands and throws it against the cement. It breaks into three pieces, battery skidding until it hits the wall.

“NO!” you scream, trying to scramble away and find a place to conceal yourself. The sound echoes within the tunnel, deafening.

“What the fuck, dude!” Julio screams in horror. Nikolai is disturbed, but he handles it slightly better.

“This wasn’t the plan! We were supposed to scare her, without touching her. Not break her phone!” A force pulls you backward and you realize it's Phoenix's hand on your hood.

“And you’re scared aren’t you?” he snarls. It must have been a combination of the yelling, the chase, the adrenaline, the control, and the sadism, because Phoenix has gone full alpha. His charcoal eyes are souless, the place where his pupil lay a swirling black hole. The tendons on his face and neck quiver like they’re about to tear through his skin. You’re running before you can see his teeth, and this time he lets you go. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You’ve disappeared from view quickly, hiding in the bushes below the field until your assailants leave. At this point, all there is to do is ride out the overwhelming instinct to cower.

“Oh, come on,” Phoenix rolls his eyes. 

“No, you’re not supposed to do that type of shit,” insists Julio. Purposely sending omegas into flight or fawn was a major social taboo. It forces both an acute stress response and dissociation which occasionally causes tragedies. Omegas accidently darting in front of cars or hours of unnavigable panic reaching the point of mental crisis. The instict to hunker down until the episode passed left sick people without medical care and little children with traumatized parents. Originally, alphas tormented omegas endlessly because they couldn’t fight back before expectations were set up to protect their well-being.

“We should hide her stuff so they can’t trace it back to us.” Nikolai recognizes the new leader and reassembles y/n’s backpack. 

“And when she tells Damiano?”

“He’ll flip out. Mission accomplished,” Phoenix shrugs his shoulders, casually. “It’s our word against his, so you know what’ll happen if someone breaks ranks.” He glowers at Julio to make the threat clear.

  “Yeah? And in the mean time he could fucking kill me!”

“So, what? You’re afraid of him now? Phoenix taunts. Nikolai has fallen silent, holding the backpack like it's a bomb.

“Oh my – we did this because he’s dangerous! As someone who had their nose broken by Dam in a single punch, I can attest to that! He shouldn’t be in the general population, thats the fucking point.”

“What he shouldn’t be is so full of himself,” mutters Nikolai. He walks off to find a place to hide the bag with his head hung. 

“And that is the fucking point. Alphas like him are what's wrong with society. They don’t obey the natural order.

“You’re out of your fucking mind.” Julio picks up his duffel and walks away.

“We reminded an omega of her place! You should be proud of that!” Phoenix yells after him.

***

“We’re just thrilled to have you officially back on the team, drive safe!” The chair of the collegiate board walked the David’s out to the parking lot with a restrained, professional smile. They’d known which way the board was leaning as soon as the hearing started. Still, the end result was a huge relief. 

“Do you want to just pick up y/n on the way home?” Isabella was wearing a rare, full fledged smile.

“Yeah, I’ll call her!”

Y/n: Where are you?

[Missed call from Star]

Star: Saw y/n walk into the amphitheater so I think she forgot about the hearing. 

Y/n: Help

[Missed call from Star]

[Missed call from Athena]

Star: Call me as soon as you get this.

Star: Had a bad feeling and doubled back, but she was gone. Saw Julio get in his car. Nikolai’s car was still in the lot. Would they do something?

[Missed call from Star]

Star: I waited and saw another alpha leave. It might have just been her and them. Don’t panic.

Star: Stay calm, don’t panic.

Emmaline: Do you want help looking?

“Damiano? Honey? What’s he doing?” Matteo tried to get a good look in the mirror at his son whose breathing had doubled in pace and was shivering while sweating.

“I think he’s having a panic attack. Dami, what's going on?” Isabella turned around and took his clammy hands in her own. “Could be the adrenaline from the meeting?”

“I’m pulling over.” Matteo idled in a turn out.

“Amphitheater.”

“Honey, practice is over. You didn’t miss practice, you were excused. It's okay, let's go home.”  

“Amphitheater!”

“Do not scream at me, Damiano,” Matteo replies patiently. Dami slams his phone onto the center console. Isabella reads the notifications out loud and they’re headed to the field by the time she says ‘help.”

“She might be home already,” Isabella offers. Dami calls Clio, but he knows it isn’t true before she picks up.

“I thought she was with you.”

“So she’s not home?” Footsteps pound up the stairs two at a time. He recognizes the creak of y/n’s door.

“She’s not here,” Clio pants.

“Check –”

“I know I’m checking!” In the closet, under the bed, Clio looked in all the places y/n associated with calm or would hide as a child. If she’d been put in a state of terror, y/n would hide instinctively in order to survive. Until an omega calms down enough to think rationally, they’re an animal whose mechanisms of self defense are limited to the path of least resistance and making themselves invisible. The claustrophobia of being unable to fight back created some drastic evolutionary responses to avoid being targeted. 

Post societal collapse, omegas would likely survive to reproductive age at double the rate of alphas. However, in a first world country, it was an arcane instinct that could be manipulated to terrorize omegas. And that's what you were: absolutely terrified and alone. You needed Damiano more than you ever and every cell in his body was screaming with the unfulfilled urge to protect.

  “I don’t think she’s in the house, but let me just make sure…Dad? Thalia? Has y/n come home from school yet?” There’s a long pause and Clio is back on the line, panic in her voice.

“She’s not here. Do you know where she is, Dami? It still gets dark and cold earlier this time of year.” That's another thing you might be: hypothermic. 

“I know where to start, but you should stay there in case she comes home. So someone will understand what’s happening.”

“And what happened?” There's anger in her voice, probably suspecting y/n was only in this position because of Damiano. She was right.  

“I think she got cornered by three alphas.”

“Fuck, I’ll call my mom.” 

Before the car was even stopped, Damiano jumped out. He ran onto the field screaming your name then fell completely silent. He listened for a whimper, jogged around the perimeter trying to pick up your scent. In doing so, he saw a peak of green fabric, whose hue he recognized as your backpack. It was over the fence, hidden in an abandoned tire. Damiano scaled the fence quicker than he thought possible, taking a picture of the scene before digging through all the papers. Most had your name written in blue pen at the top.

Someone else had put them back in, crumpled and out of order. Why take everything out? If they touched this, had they touched you? He can’t suppress the pressure in his chest anymore and breaks out in loud sobs. At first they’re tearless, desperate noises, and then his face is flooded with saline and snot. Matteo makes his way over and hands Dami a tissue through the fence. 

“Wha – why, why would she leave it here? May – be be – because she’s around here. Y/n? Y/n?” For a minute, Matteo lets his son have hope. When his wife comes over they speak in hushed voices. Dami looks back at their preoccupied expressions, and wants to scream at them to search as well. Through that veiled pity, he realizes they’re not looking for y/n because they don’t think she’s here. 

“What? What is it?” he demands, wiping his nose on his sleeve like a toddler. 

“We don’t think y/n left it here, but we’ve already alerted the collegiate board and given them names.”

“Then how…” Someone hid it. Dami sinks to his knees, not wanting to think it, much less say it. In the background his mother talks about contacting parents and coaches.

“Do you think that they, that um,” a shaky hand covers Damiano’s mouth to muffle a scream. “They only care about hiding the evidence because they don’t think we’re gonna find her?” His voice loses all masculinity and courage, ending in a high pitched whimper.

“No,” Isabella states firmly. Matteo isn’t positive about that answer, but he agrees with his wife unequivocally. 

“Three high schoolers, right? Maybe they just didn’t know what to do with it,” he offers.

“Maybe they’re sadistic little shits that wanted to make the search even tougher for you.” Matteo and Dami are shocked at an ever-composed Isabella’s crass language. Yes she was an alpha, but Isabella limited the world’s perception of her as such. 

“They could have planted it there to send you in the wrong direction or terrify you. It could be as harmless as taking her backpack because they knew it’d annoy y/n. Maybe they threw it over the fence as a laugh and the little shits went on their merry way. So get back over this fence, show me her route home, and everything will be fine by dinner. Okay?” Isabella didn’t leave any room for argument.

“Her phone isn’t in there,” Damiano announced when his feet hit the turf.

“Then it's probably with her,” Matteo concluded. Feeling like an absolute dumb ass, Dami calls y/n right away. She doesn’t pick up the first or second or sixth time. Damiano sees why as he steps off the field. Somehow the whole family had missed the phone smashed against the cement. Dami drops to his hands and knees crawling around trying to gather the pieces, because maybe it wasn't yours. Sure it was the right model and color, but millions had been manufactured. 

Then Damiano finds the backing and wails with anguish. Thalia had insisted y/n decorate her phone with some volcanology stickers. The biggest one was faded where his omega rubbed her thumb in a circle absentmindedly. For a second Dami can’t take any more of this purgatory. I need her safe. I need her safe. I need her safe, I need her safe, I need her safe. IneedhersafeIneedhersafeIneedhersafeIneedher.

***

You hide in a wooded area a block from the amphitheater. No one would suspect, because you’d only visited once on a field trip. Phoenix might be watching, unsatisfied and yearning to inflict some real sadism. So you stay hidden until it feels safe, completely still, like a fawn. Movement can trigger predators. 

The problem is night falls before it feels safe. The woods are dark so you stumble for 50 yards, moving towards the street lights. Tripping on a log and face planting doesn’t even trigger a pain response. When you get to the treeline, you search for your assailants. There’s got to be a safe place with better lighting, but you’ll have to stay awake all night, so you can disappear into the shadows if they hunt you down. That is, unless you can get on the other side of a locked door. Then you’ll be safe. 

The darkness only worsens the fear. You can feel yourself being followed, but not see the steps that stalk you, always on your heels. Each time you whip around, Julio, Nikolai, or Pheonix manage to hide. It's an hour's walk home and this is too exposed. You’ll ever make it, might as well be waving bait in front of the predators. 

The first bus that passes, you get on. Everyone’s staring so you sit in the back. After the last stop, the bus driver tries calling out to you, but the sound blends into the idling engine. He has to physically tap on your shoulder, which makes you scream in surprise. He seems almost as jarred as you feel, scampering off the bus.

“Are you hurt? Miss? Is there someone I should call?” You run until you’re breathless, bending over and clutching your chest. Phoenix probably couldn’t keep your trail, but your body was shaking in a way you recognized as shivering. This didn’t look like home or safety.  Nothing here evoked memories. All you could do was walk until the world became familiar.

The sliver of moon cast long, distorted shadows, making mundane objects look sinister. A cat darts across the street. That makes you jump out of your skin and cower behind a bush. How long have you been walking? It could be 20 minutes, or an hour and a half. Working up the courage to continue might take even longer. Each time you scan for predators, their absence is never comforting enough to make your way back to the sidewalk. Eventually, you clench your teeth and do so anyway.

***

Y/n’s house has become missing person’s ground zero. Even Sandro helped search. Or rather, he kept watch while Damiano grabbed Julio by the lapels of his jacket and dragged him up a wall. The terrified alpha spilled all the details immediately, but it was more useless information. Sandro assured his little brother that this wasn’t a big deal and things like this mostly turned out alright. Damiano shoves him to the ground and the snarling accidently instills in Kevin the power behind that shiny exterior. He is much more self aware when he speaks to Damiano, reiterating that he’s confident everything will be fine. 

“She’s a fighter.”

“That's what I’m worried about. Alphas pick on omegas that challenge their power.”

“But she’s a brave girl.” One more platitude and Damiano was going to throttle Kevin.

“And that's what I’m worried about! Submission is the only way out!” Dami storms outside and paces in the backyard. It seems like the entire family is living in denial as a coping mechanism. Yes, y/n is probably fine, but the fact that he hadn’t an ounce of certainty sparked rage at all these people who could eat, sleep, read, and communicate without y/n, unharmed, in their arms. Dami could barely think, was still in disbelief that almost four hours later you hadn’t turned up. 

He heads back inside, keeping his shit together because he has to, and for no other reason. Before the squeaky door could announce his entrance, Dami overhears Thalia rattling off facts from her serial killer podcasts that make his heart stop beating.

“Statistically, the further you are from the time of abduction, the less likely you are to find the victim.”

“Bad timing Thalia.”

“But I’m not talking about missing omega statistics. Interesting enough, they do follow the same trend, but not with nearly as steep a curve. Other people aren’t what's most deadly, it’s mostly accidental and natural. Getting hit by a car or bus, accidentally injuring oneself and bleeding out, ravines, drowning.” Damiano shuts the door, pulls off his sweater, crouches down in the middle of the lawn, and screams bloody murder into the fabric until his throat hurts. Then he cries, imagining all the ways you could die, in pain and alone. 

It's a reminder that one of you has to go first. He might have to live decades, knowing you no longer exist in the world. That could be true right now, maybe you were already gone` and security would find your body by morning. Maybe you're about to fall off the edge of the earth and he can’t stop it because he doesn’t know where you are. Could fate be cruel enough to only give him four months? How many times had he said ‘I love you?’” 

“Well, there has to be something we haven’t thought of,” sighs Olivia, as he walks back into the living room.

“Friends, family, routine or preferred places,” Clio lists off. “They all know to call right away. What about that other little shit? Nikolai?”

“His parents reported he came home earlier this evening. His story matches, swears he didn’t put his hands on her. However there will be repercussions.” Isabella speaks in a calm, clinical tone, but her voice sounds strained. Anyone who looks at Damiano can see he wants revenge, not repercussions. Its torture, being unable to act on this properly, because he just got his life back. No, that’s what he wanted: torture.

“It's unfair,” he says through clenched teeth. 

“Yes, it is,” levels Matteo, putting a hand on his son’s back.

“Maybe this is an over reaction and she’s at a friend’s house! Hasn’t realized she lost her phone? I know I was that careless at 15.”

“Darling, that’s not what –”

“I found her backpack,” snapped Damiano.

“Listen, I fully believe that you think you saw her backpack, but –”

“Excuse me, what are you imply –”

“The papers had her name on them, you imbecile!” The entire room falls silent and Dami has to focus on not turning into a snarling alpha. “Excuse me,” he says tightly, stomping upstairs with his hands balled into fists. In the background, voices continue.

“Are you questioning my son’s honesty or connection to reality?” Dami pauses after turning the corner, surprised to hear his mother speak so sharply. “Because I can assure you, I saw the same thing. In fact, he has a picture on his phone if –”

“No, no, my apologies, Isabella. That won’t be necessary.” Olivia cringes, wanting to contradict her husband, but shying away from it.

“Obviously Damiano’s perspective is distorted because he’s y/n’s alpha, but I’m starting to be concerned, too. I know we’ll find her by morning, but she might have hypothermia by then and –” Dami walks into your room and closes the door behind him. If Clio is the voice of reason, we really are lost. For a second, he’s the calmest he’s been all day. That very quickly turns into devastation.

“Come home. Come back to me. Tell me where you are. Find someone with a phone. Fucking anything,” Dami babbles into your pillow. It smells like you, but it’s not enough to quell his asphyxiating anxiety. Only the real thing can do that. He’s never believed in God, or fate, or energy of the universe, but right now he’d plead his case to any higher power that would listen. They were all at a loss. You’d moved three hours north when you were nine, so all those childhood spots were on the coast. There were a few routine hangouts, then people’s houses.

It felt silly to call up everyone in y/n’s life and ask them to report your appearance. As if any decent person wouldn’t call the parents of a dissociated 15 year old who showed up at their house unannounced in the middle of the night. It all felt futile and Damiano couldn’t tell if being in your bedroom made him more or less miserable. This thought jogged a memory of your voice. I want to like – I don’t know, walk to your house, climb in your window, or something crazy.

There was no way. Damiano checked the security cameras at the front and back of his house. They hadn’t filmed anything, but if you did literally go in through the window…It was possible the motion sensor wouldn’t pick it up. Possible was more than he’d had for the last two hours. Damiano is half way down the stairs, ready to announce his great idea, when it hits him that having seven people watching may make you feel worse.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier. I think I just need to go home and get some sleep.” Everyone reassured that no mistakes had been made and it was all very understandable. How impressive of an alpha to have so much self reflection. Of course, Isabella would use the geotracker in Dami’s phone to make sure he wasn’t going to commit homicide. Thankfully, it couldn’t tell her how fast he drove.

“Y/n?” He took a deep breath in, while taking off his boots. Dami had started hallucinating your scent before the one hour mark, but this was definitely real. Strangely enough, it didn’t lead straight to his room.

“Y/n? Baby, where are you?” He follows it to the back door and around the perimeter of the kitchen. The David’s didn’t leave windows open habitually, but every single one was locked. They’d never bothered to lock the skylight above the reading nook after having it installed because who the hell is going to repel down from the roof? It’d been locked. There was blood and a muddy footprint on the counter. No one else who’d do that but a paranoid omega.

He breaks into a jog, then slows down before the door, expecting to be locked as well. It’s not. You hadn’t locked him out. Damiano bursts into the bedroom and drops down with his chest to the carpet. You’re here in this room, or at least you were, but there's nothing under the bed. He would have bet money you’d be here. Nothing behind the desk and the whole closet always smelled like you because he’d never washed the sheets from the first time. He always sat in here when he touched himself, but couldn’t touch you. The stains told a story that he never tired of reliving.

The reality was that with the unlocked door and empty hiding spot you probably weren’t here anymore. But if he’d gotten here faster…Damiano still had to do his due diligence which meant locating the flash light that was likely under all this mess. Trying to conjure emotional stamina, he takes a deep breath that gets caught in his throat.

“Are you okay?” The voice is barely audible, but he recognizes it. 

***

“Y/n? Y/n! Where the fuck are you? Love? Oh my fucking god,” his voice breaks. Dami drops to the ground, feeling around for an arm or a leg. You climb out from under the pile of laundry and pull him into the shadows, behind the closet door. Dami blindly reaches out for you, vision not adapted to darkness.

“Who’s with you? Phoenix?” He could have deceived Damiano into thinking he had information and tricked his way into the house to get at you.

“What? I’m alone. Baby, come here,” he reaches out, anxious to finally hold you after this excruciating day. “C’mere, y/n. Just…just come to me,” he pleads. Damiano doesn’t want to freak you out further by forcefully hauling you out of your hiding spot. However, not doing so is torture. The sound of his voice tugs deep in your chest, but nothing can compete with this fear response. 

“Lock the bedroom door.” It was irrational, but the only way you’d feel safe. “And turn off the ceiling light.” You peek around the corner to see if the curtains went all the way to the ground. Slats of light from under the fabric would alert any passerby that someone was inhabiting this room.

“Y/n, you’re safe now.” It was a comforting sentiment, but there was no safety with Phoenix hunting you down to finish the job. Receding away from the corner brought you within inches of Dami’s face. As soon as you make eye contact, he extends a cautious hand.

“Phoenix, he’s – I think he’s dangerous,” you hiss. Even though you saw it coming, Dami’s hand on your waist startles you.

“Shh, shh. You’re okay. You’re okay,” he whispers. The sound of his voice evokes so many memories of gentle, loving touch that they blend together. Damiano reaches his hand around your back and to the other side, so his arm is wrapped around your middle. Your first instinct is to pull away to make sure he’ll allow it, but a much stronger urge to move towards this force of anti-chaos prevails. 

“I’m dangerous,” he emphasizes, forcing your brain to recalibrate. Damiano was so doting that his increased capability for destruction slipped your mind. Phoenix was just a regular alpha, without the motivation of a mate. Hearing your breathing change, Dami extended his other hand very slowly. He loosely wrapped his thumb and pointer finger around your wrist, and pulled towards him.

“You’re my omega so I become a weapon of lethal force to anyone that threatens you. In my presence, you are always safe.” The words take a second to process, but when they do you finally feel something again. That prospect is intimidating enough that you’re reaching for Damiano, just as he hoped you would. He pulls you into his lap and hugs you too tight. Instead of squeezing and releasing, he keeps you that close, until you have to ask for air. 

“Sorry, sorry.” There are tears on his face and when he roughly wipes them away they’re replaced two-fold. “Fuck, come here,” his voice breaks. This time you try to return the hug, even as your arms feel weak. Dami splays his hands out and rubs up and down, covering as much surface area as possible. His face is pressed into your neck, hair caught between in desperation. Heaving breaths try to replenish your smell like a diver has to replenish the oxygen in their bloodstream.

“Please scent me,” he whimpers, sniffling. You go through the movements, but getting back in tune with your body isn’t instantaneous.

“Are you shivering? Your cheeks are cold.” The back of his hand presses against both sides of your face. You offer up your uninjured hand, which, admittedly you can’t feel. The concern in his expression is so adorable that you kiss Damiano without thinking. It’s just a peck and he’s too startled to kiss back. You’ve obviously interrupted his train of thought because Dami opens his mouth to speak, but the words come a second later.

“We need to call your parents and tell them.” In retrieving his phone, Dami shifts his weight and you wrap your legs over his hips. Closer feels safer.

“Hey, I found her…Yeah, in my closet, actually. Mostly, but she’s really cold. Do I take her to a hospital?” You shake your head vigorously and try to snatch his phone. “No hospital apparently!” he exclaims, dodging your attempts. “Um, I mean her lips aren’t blue at all, but she’s shivering…Yeah, okay. Okay. Mhm, bye.” As soon as he lets down his guard, you grab Dami’s phone and slide it across the room. 

“I guess, we should get up anyways,” he scoffs. To sit on the bed, is the implication. Or maybe in the dining room. Both would leave you so exposed that anyone could come in before you had the chance to hide. Damiano gets up to retrieve his phone and pull back the covers. However, when you crawl off his lap, you go back into the darkness and refuge of the closet. Instantly the shivering worsens. Your hand throbs, too, but you can’t feel why. 

Instead of arguing. Dami climbs into the closet after you. He reaches up to pull a gigantic sweater off a hanger and removes his top. Just him being shirtless, you can feel heat radiating from his body.

“C’mere,” he coaxes. Damiano pulls the sweater on, but holds out the hem, inviting your under. There isn’t a moment's hesitation before you sit between his legs and duck underneath. Your face is pressed to his bare skin and just absorbing that one sensation takes you a second. All his warmth is trapped by the sweater, which is a bit musty but Dami’s body odor is heavenly. All the anxiety had him sweating through his deodorant. Damiano grabs the extra comforter from the bottom of the closet and throws it over your legs. He pulls it chest height and wraps his arms around you. In return, you experiment with scenting again, brushing against his chest.

“Whatcha doing?” he endears, looking down through the stretched out neckline. You take a deep breath for the first time in…

“How long?”

“A little over four hours.” 

“Shit,” you wince.

“Not your fault.” The anger radiates from him just like the heat. “Julio said he and Nikolai didn’t touch you, is that true?”

“Technically, yes.” Having to go back to that mental state is not only unpleasant, but jarring. “Can we talk about this later?” you whine, hiding your face against his skin. Guilt settles in the pit of his stomach.

“Some of it, yes. Some of it I need to know now. I’m sorry love.” You nod your head and Dami continues.

“Who was there besides Nikolai and Julio? Phoenix? Bystanders?

 “No bystanders. I tried to escape so other people would see, but Pheonix got in the way.” The word escape momentarily makes Dami lose his cool and he’s glad you’re not looking at his face.

“So you went into the amphitheater and all three were waiting?” You shake your head. “Okay…” Dami takes a deep breath and applies more pressure with his hand while rubbing your back.

“I think Nikolai texted Phoenix because they’re cousins. He’s the alpha that attacked me three months ago.” 

“Right,” he replies tightly. Keep it together, or she’ll absorb your anger. You can punch something later. 

“They wanted revenge.” On me. This is my fault and they took it out on her. I’m going to slit those fuckers neck to navel and flay them like a fish. I’m gonna take everything they –

“Dami?”

“Yes my love?” 

“I can feel you thinking about murder.”

“Sorry,” he winced, refocusing. He had to ask the hard question, the one he didn’t want an answer to.

“So did Phoenix,” deep breath, “do something to you?”

“Pushed me to the ground, broke my phone, and he, um,” your voice gets small then disappears at the memory. 

“He scared you?”

“All of them.”

“All of them tried to scare you.” 

“But he…” you’re both holding your breath. “Went into headspace. Then I ran.” Dami holds you too tight again and kisses your head. You may not know how dangerous the situation was, but he did. Retelling it was visibly distressing, so he tried to think of something to calm the anxiety. 

“Want to watch the security camera footage from tonight? It only covers about 60% of the house, but you can check the main entrances.” This sounds like a splendid idea. Dami pulls up the app on his phone and hands it to you. The idea that Phoenix and possibly Julio and Nikolai have been following you for four hours becomes less and less likely in your head. However, you’d been so damn sure and it felt unquestionably real.

“I – I feel like I’m…going insane. I can’t tell if I was actually being stalked.”

“The paranoia is normal. I’ve heard coming out of it can be a real mind fuck.” You nod, handing Damiano’s phone back to him. There was nothing on the footage except a bunny in the backyard. It’s embarrassing, the way you’d reacted, even though you couldn’t help it. 

“And everyone was freaking?”

“I was the only one freaking out.” He kisses your head again and again, drawing a heart on your scalp with his lips. Dami keeps running into dead leaves and twigs that he carefully picks out. Internally, you feel like an inflatable toy that's lost 25% of its air. 

“I called your dad an imbecile.” When you don’t laugh in response to this, Dami knows how sleepy you are. The shivering has stopped and your face has color again. Your lips part as little puffs of air hit his chest. The knowledge of how differently today could have ended up makes him nauseous. Instead of wrapped in his arms, you could be in a hospital bed with a cast, or bruised ribs, or internal bleeding. Whatever boundaries Phoenix might have set for himself would be second to his desire for violence.

Omegas have alphas because they can’t defend themselves. The only time you’d asked for his help, he’d had his phone off. Dami vows never to do that again, no matter how unprofessional it was for a call to interrupt a meeting. You needed him, so he should have been there. The volatile part of Dami fantasizes about how much he could fuck up those three alphas, given the excuse that they’d attacked his omega. How many bones could he break and still be met with understanding from the public?

The rumble of a barely audible purr wrenches Dami from his fantasies of vengeance. Your arm twitches against his chest as you fall asleep. The first thing he was gonna do when you were settled was text all his close alpha friends what had happened. Even if they didn’t have a personal stake in your life, they had their own omegas to protect, values to uphold. There were ways to make it impossible for your attackers to ever victimize someone again, both judicial and with brute force. He was fine with either.

Your soft purring continues distracting Dami everytime his thoughts take too dark a turn. The sound evokes the warmest sensation he’s ever felt in his life.

“Such a smart girl, knew you’d be safe in my den.” You nod against Damiano and yawn, nuzzling his chest. Running, walking, and hiding in a state of hypervigilance for four hours was exhausting, especially with your body attempting to compensate for how cold it was. The adrenaline spike from the attack had also taxed your endocrine system, as well.

Dami had completely forgotten that both sets of parents would be coming over until the sound of the door made you startle and cower. He whispered assurances, reminders that you knew these people, and that they were safe. Isabella and Matteo were first down the hall, since they already knew where you’d be. Olivia and Kevin followed, and it was momentarily hilarious to watch all four scan the room.

“Well that is a great hiding spot,” Isabella exclaimed. She murmurs something to Matteo who nods and slips out of the doorway.

“You said y/n was here,” Kevin states, a bit gruff. Isabella gestures to Damiano with a nearly indiscernible smile, who lifts the corner of the comforter with his foot to reveal two sets of legs.  

“Well what's she doing in your clothes?” your father interrogates, like cuddling is inherently something perverse. “Y/n?” he calls, as if you’re not within hearing range. His voice is so loud that you cringe. You can feel Damiano take a deep breath and hope he’ll call your father an imbecile again.

“She’s sleepy.” He kisses your head twice as punctuation. “And getting warm.” You look up at Dami with a pained expression, knowing you’ll have to part.

“It's a rather inventive way of sharing body heat that they’ve come up with.” Isabella is trying to model behavior for Kevin like he’s five. Floorboards creak as Matteo comes back into the room with a thermometer. He hands it to Dami, who passes it down to you.

“This is ridiculous,” Matteo whispers, to Olivia, who gives him a scorching stare.

“You have a more effective way of warming her up?” Damiano challenges. The thermometer beeps, and you pass it back up.

“96.7 so it’s a miracle she isn’t shivering. Normal is 98.6.” He resumes rubbing your back. 

“People lose a lot of heat from their scalp,” Olivia adds, surprisingly helpful. Dami tucks your head under his chin.

“One of the alphas pushed her to the cement. What can we do right now?”

“Is she okay?” exclaims Isabella.

“I don’t know yet,” Damiano answers honestly. For the first time, Kevin seems to grasp the seriousness of the situation.

“If he’s 18, we can have him arrested tonight,” states Isabella.

“Really?” you whisper. Damiano nods, and switches to pressing his cheek to your hair.

“He’s a 12th year at Okoro named Phoenix. Not on their soccer team. Blond, about six feet. I don’t know his last name, but I’ll recognize his face. He’s bothered her before.” Isabella nods while dialing, pacing to the other side of the room.

“What the hell do you mean ‘he’s bothered her before?’” blurts your dad.

“I took care of it and I will again.” Damiano’s tone is surprisingly measured, like he’s stating objective facts. Your alpha’s ability to convey power without raising his voice was infinitely more impactful. You can’t see faces through the knit, but the tension is still palatable.

“I think we need to assess y/n’s health properly, to see if she’s okay. We can’t do that while she’s in your clothes.”

“We know she isn’t okay. She was hypothermic 10 minutes ago,” Damiano snaps.

“Which is why we need to assess what else is wrong.”

“So she can be hypothermic again? That sounds productive.”

“I do not appreciate the tone you’ve been taking with me, young man.”

“Kevin!”

“What Damiano is trying to say is that a health issue is already being addressed and we can only do these things one at a time. To switch back and forth before we’ve finished addressing one health issue would ruin all progress and be detrimental to y/n’s health rather than beneficial.”

“Let’s listen to what Matteo’s saying,” implores Olivia.

“I’m her father!”

“And I’m her alpha.” Dami can’t prevent a bit of canine dialect from sneaking in. His voice has a growl to it that is definitely sub-human. The room is so quiet you could hear a pin drop. You could hear the hypothetical idea of a pin drop. It was so quiet that if a pin had ever dropped in this room, at any point in history, you’d be able to hear that sound echo through time.

Rather than rest on Damiano’s torso, you wrap both arms around him. The sensation of your injured hand brushing against the wall makes your eyes water in pain. This whole conversation had you stress sweating and now that sweat was drying against your skin. You start shaking again, teeth chattering.

“And now we’ve stressed her out, terrific.” Damiano wraps you in a tight embrace and rocks back and forth. The trembling doesn’t stop and the lack of control of your body makes you panic. He can see it in your eyes when he checks in and whispers apologies. Kevin is trying to assert dominance through some sort of macho stare-down which makes Damiano roll his eyes. The utter disregard for the gesture is apparently unacceptable.

“Y/n! Out. Now.” The yelling was so horrible that you just obeyed.

“This is so stupid,” say’s Dami, shaking his head. It sucks. It really, really sucks. Without Damiano and without the dissociation, you can feel how cold you are, how much your feet and hips hurt from walking in bad shoes. Your elbows are sore. It feels like there's half a dozen needles poking you under your clothes. And your hand hurts like a mother fucker.

“So co-co-co-cold.” You look behind yourself for that wonderful heat source and Dami is already waiting to welcome you into his arms. He pulls the blanket up while glaring at your father.

“So glad we did this,” he bites, as Isabella comes over.

“Okay…” She absorbs the scene with uncertainty on her face, also unsure why you’d been extracted from the most effective way of raising your body temperature. “Let's put her in warm, dry clothes.” Kevin huffs in agreement, and all of them leave. Hanging in the doorway, Damiano can see his expectant expression, that the alpha would leave his omega unguarded. Like he would trust anyone else to care for you right now. It was absurd.

Kevin gestures to Olivia to go into the bedroom. At first she’s happy to help, but then sees the battle of wills between Dami and her husband.

“You’ll be alright in here?” she asks Dami.

“Yes, thank you,” he answers cordially. 

Olivia nods once, closing the door as she hisses, “I’d like to talk to you” at her husband. The Davids have graciously given them the hallway to discuss, and are making tea in the kitchen.

“What in the hell?” she whisper yells, aflame in anger.

“I know! That kid doesn’t have an ounce of respect. I say we take her home right now and deal with this ourselves.”

“Do you know why we’re here, in this house?”

“Cause y/n’s here,” he replies dumbly.

“And why is that?” she snaps. Kevin had never seen his wife with so little patience.

“Because she walked here?”

“Because when she was scared for her life and needed somewhere that felt safe, somewhere she knew she’d be cared for, she. Didn’t. Come. Home.”

“Yeah, she wanted an excuse to go hang out with her boyfriend,” he dismisses. Olivia grabs him by the chin and forces Kevin to look at her.

“An acute stress response is not a social call. If they were mated that’d be one thing, but they're not. Her brain was operating on instinct and her subconscious believed that these people would be more likely to give her the help she needs than her own parents.”

“So we’ll have them spend more time at our house.”

“Kevin she was right!” Olivia doesn’t mean to shout and immediately lowers her voice. “Who did all the reporting to the collegiate board today? Who got the thermometer? Who contacted the security force? All to protect our daughter, not their son. Think about that.”  Kevin does, in fact, have a very rare moment of self-reflection.

  “I guess even focusing on Thalia with the speech therapy and the programs and all the psychologists was…a lot. It was overwhelming. Then Clio became – she was overwhelming and I didn’t have much more in me. Y/n has always been so tough that I didn’t worry.”

“Kevin, hear me when I say, I don’t give a good god damn whether you like that boy or not. If they stay together, he is gonna get a certification from trade school while y/n is in her 12th year and he is gonna take her anywhere in the world she wants. If we don’t like it, there are two wonderful people willing to fill our shoes and our daughter doesn’t ever have to deal with us again. If you want to have more than another two summers with y/n, then so help me jesus christ, you will make friends with these people. Because I am going to have a relationship with her and this family with or without you.”

***

“Ugh, I just wanna cuddle and go to sleep,” you whine. 

“I know, baby.”

“But my hand hurts so fucking bad.” You scoot into the light and all the swelling and bruising makes your stomach flip. You squeeze your eyes shut and turn your head away.

“Dami, Dami, scent me.” You reach out with your good hand, opening your eyes just a crack in the opposite direction of the injury. Instantly he’s there nuzzling and holding you close, humming. The stress in your voice was palatable, but he doesn’t see the reason for a couple seconds.

“Oh my god.”

“When he pushed me I landed wrong. Distract me.” You say all in the same breath. Injuries on other people bothered you only slightly, but injuries on yourself made you feel severely ill, like combining the flu with vertigo.

“We have to –”

“I don’t care, I don’t care, distract me!” He rocks you back and forth, singing in your ear, scenting so heavily your brain went elsewhere for a couple precious seconds. You take a couple deep breaths in this refuge, and Damiano breathes with you.

“I’m sorry for yelling.” You open your eyes completely, still facing away. “Is it broken?”

“Yes.”

“Can we go to the hospital tomorrow?”

“The bones are already healing. They could heal the wrong way and you’d have to rebreak –”

“Okay, heard!”

“Can I tell them now?” he whispers, still rocking. You shake your head.

“I want to change my clothes first, if we have to go to the hospital.”

“Baby, you can’t change your shirt, but…Wait, were you in the woods?” A full two inches of the hem of your jeans is soaked and muddy.

“Help me change my pants please.” He nods, and you’re strategizing how to get off the ground, when Damiano wraps both arms around your ribcage and brings you upright with him. Habitually, you embrace him back and moving your fingers makes you hiss in pain, then double over. Your eyes squeeze shut while reciting every swear word you know. Upon opening your eyes, the broken hand is in your periphery.

“Is that fixable?”

“Absolutely.” He sounds so damn sure that you take a deep breath. “I’ve seen a lot of bad breaks, you’re gonna be fine. Do you want your leggings or my black sweats with the paint stain?”

“Uh, both.”

“Good idea.” Damiano had accidentally given you your own drawer, or rather half of one. You pointed it out and both laughed about passing this relationship milestone without realizing. When Matteo did the laundry he’d set your little pile of clothes to the left of Damiano’s on top of the dresser. It all happened so organically.

Your wet jeans were heavy and stuck to your skin. Undoing the fly one handed while sitting down was possible, but then you realized you were getting Dami’s bed dirty. 

“Ah, shit,” you stood up and looked behind you at the forest green blanket with little embroidered flowers. The fabric was too dark to judge.

“Your underwear wet too?” he asked, pulling down your pants for you.

“Why, you got something planned?” Damiano huffed a laugh and hung his head. You’re trying to keep things light, even as you continue to shiver. Knelt down, Dami pulled off your socks too and put on a pair of his wool ones. Getting two pairs of pants on involved a little laughter and almost falling over, despite a one-handed grip on Damiano’s shoulder. When he finished pulling up the waistband of the sweatpants, you put your good hand on his cheek and waited. After a couple seconds, Dami’s focus returned to your face and you kissed him.

There’d be no chance for this at the hospital, so you take full advantage of this little, private moment. Dami is unsure at first, then very confident, falling into the familiarity of your body. You take the hand on his face and drag it down his neck, chest, into his back pocket. The new grip allows you to eliminate the space between, pulling Damiano’s hips closer to yours. He moans, gets a bit feral, then forces himself to freeze and pull away. 

Damiano busies himself changing his own clothes, but he has a tell. He blinks much slower when trying not to get aroused at an inappropriate time. Dami is doing it right now and diverting his gaze away from you, trying to distract himself. A knock on the door makes Damiano clear his throat harshly and fiddle with a hanger, back turned.

“Yep. All good. Come in,” he voice breaks at the end like he’s 14 and you snicker.

“Oh you couldn’t find a clean top?” Isabella’s question is rhetorical. She actually means why didn’t you change into a warmer shirt? You extend your hand out and someone gasps, which isn’t very reassuring. You’re trembling from the cold, still.

“My first instinct would be to ice that, but – actually let's take your temperature again.” Isabella looks up for the thermometer Matteo is already handing her. While Olivia is clutching her sternum in horror, the David’s are entirely unfazed. Having two athletic alpha sons seems to have rendered them comparatively unshakeable. 

“I know Y/n and Damiano are going to be attached at the hip till she’s feeling better.” Isabella says it amicably, but also as a statement of fact. “I’d be happy to take them to get that wrist x-rayed right now and I assume y/n will feel safest sleeping here because it's Dami’s room.” It's charitable wording, to make it about feelings, which are so much easier to trivialize than instincts. Olivia and Matteo hold eye contact, one omegan parent to the other and there's an understanding.

“I'll take them to the hospital and drop them back when we’re done. Does that work? Can I get you anything on the way back?” offers Olivia. After the Davids and your mother agree on a plan, you breathe a sigh of relief and tune it out. It doesn’t matter. Your father’s preferences don’t outweigh the other three, no matter his entitlement or the size of his ego. A minor draft from the vent or windows makes you shiver violently, teeth chatter. It reminds Dami to take your temperature, and he doesn’t like what that reveals.

“96.1 of course she's losing body heat. Warm up the car.”

Notes: So this was a sub-plot I was gonna explore, but Guardian Angel is already to overwhelmingly long. As a result, I've decided to stick with all the other plot points so I can hopefully get this thing finished in under 20 chapters since I've been working on it over well over a year. (What the fuck) Thank you for reading and encouragement .

Taglist: @bieberhoodforever @blackberryblossom @butkutee @cuzimitaliano @elvirabelle  @iamtashaquinn@icarodamiano @ilwiwbysmv @immrbrightsideeee @little-moonbeam-666 @maneslut @mortyandem  @the-chaotic-cow @wasteddoubts @weareoddlydrawn @whore4damia  @azertyhug @biancathecool@bohemianrainbow @daisy0gf @dustyinkpages @katyldamusic@obiw4n @persona1read1ng  @gr8rainbowpunk @hiraetheral @l0standn0tf0und@que--sera--sera @stardustingold@teenyweenynightghost   @softmullet @solacestyles @thegeminisgirl @slavicgoddess13 @bright-shiningstar@lizzylynch1 @hauntedpostperson@harryssshouseee @lonnybunnys

[wonderlandishell]

The middle of adventure, such a perfect place to stop

Victoria De Angelis/Ethan Torchio

Friends with Benefits / Friends to Lovers / Genderqueer Character / Coming Out / Angst / Pegging / Blood Kink

“You two should just fuck each other. Easier that way,” Thomas giggles. When three blank stares pin him down, he holds his hands up. “What! That’s the truth, that would get rid of much of the problems, and you already know you’re compatible. I’m not telling you to actually do it!” “Don’t give them stupid ideas,” Damiano finishes his coffee with an air of finality and stands from the table.

Read on ao3

[reputationdamiano]

Hi babee. So i saw your headcanon request are open and here i am lol.

Imagine them as a grandparents. To be honest it isn't seem like as in my ımagine when i write it here but it doesn't have matter. We're going to be old anyway.

Have a nice day/night 🥰❤️🥰🥰❤️❤️🥰🥰

måneskin as grandparents headcanons

word count: 243

warnings: none

a/n: hi, sorry for replying almost a year after this request was sent. i wasn’t feeling particularly creative but i hope you enjoy!

damiano:

i imagine him storytelling a lot, all about måneskin’s adventures and showing videos of their performances, generally reminiscing the past

that sporty kind of grandfather who teaches children how to ride a bike or who plays basketball with them!

damiano would try to make his grandkids laugh as much as possible with his cheesy jokes

he would definitely make them chamomile tea before bed

ethan:

i think he’d spoil the kids by letting them do everything they want to, including things their parents wouldn't let them do

ethan would definitely teach them the basics of playing drums

he would be a shoulder to cry on, always comforting his grandkids whenever they feel unhappy

ethan would read bedtime stories while putting the children to sleep

thomas:

picture him being so proud when he shows his little signature dance to his grandkids

thomas would keep up with the trends whatever they would be in the year 2065, definitely a modern and cool grandad!

the guitarist of the band would play cards or board games with his grandkids

i think thomas would encourage the kids to start a band on their own!

victoria:

i imagine vic going outside with the kids and painting nature

she would know about everything happening in her grandchildren’s life and would give the best advice

vic would bake all kinds of delicious pastries for her grandchildren

our style icon would obviously help the kids make the best fashion choices

taglist: @ethanesimp @kirstansworld @bidet-and-legolas @gretavanfleetlove @otaculo @bieberhoodforever @kyliesalvatore @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @hopelessromantic727 @ilwiwbysmv @lovelymaneskindays @grzybowysyn @butkutee @livcwildcndfrcc @que--sera--sera @torchiosfries @inloveppp

masterlist

[kiss-this]

[marlena-immortale]

Playtime (Pt. 2): Playmate

Summary: You and Ethan bring your new kitty friend Damiano into the bedroom to play. 

CW: SMUT + FLUFF, mild scratching and biting, oral sex, anal play, overstimulation, threesome, d/s dynamic, pet play, smut involving pet play, also Giorgia is in this but not involved in the play

Word Count: 6.5k

Masterlist ⭐️ Taglist ⭐️ Kofi

“Are you ready for today?” Ethan asks you, fastening your collar gently around your neck. After locking it behind your neck, he seals it with a kiss and brings his hand around to play with the tiny dangling gold heart on the front. 

You nod your head, feeling a little foggy from the ritual of your owner putting your collar on combined with the playtime activities that transpired this morning. It’s always your favorite way to start the day, having Ethan’s mouth on you making you see stars. 

He can tell that you’re slipping into a more submissive state so he does his best to keep you in the moment while still honoring the dynamic you two have. He knows exactly how to walk that line without making you feel uncomfortable when you need to be in public, like you do today. He stops using names like kitty or pet, his touches are more firm where they used to be teasing, and he encourages you to talk more. Talking is something that becomes harder for you when you’re feeling more submissive. You’d rather just stay silent and feel what your Dom wants you to feel without distractions. 

But now is not the time for that unfortunately. Now, you have to stay as coherent as possible. Today is finally the day that you and Ethan have been waiting for and discussing for weeks. Today is the day you talk to Damiano about playing together. Ethan has set up a dinner with you both, Damiano, and Giorgia. You don’t know exactly what they know about this meeting, only that you are to be on your best behavior. 

“Do you remember the rules for tonight?” Ethan asks, stroking his palms down your arms to hold your hands in his. 

“Yes I do. No misbehaving, follow instructions from you, and speak up if there’s anything I’m uncomfortable with. See, I can be good.” You beam up at him, craving parise. 

“You’re always good, sweetheart. Just want you to remember before we go.” He puts the jacket he picked out on you before taking your hand and leading you out the door.

You’re nervous as hell about tonight. What if Damiano isn’t into it? What if Giorgia is offended by the offer? What if they never speak to you both again? What if you ruin Damiano and Ethan’s friendship and the band? All of your thoughts are painted clearly on your face because the next second, Ethan is stopping you from taking any more steps towards the car and instead is bringing you into a big hug.

“Hey, it’s going to be alright. I already know Damiano is at least a little interested and we’re so close, nothing like this will affect anything between us. But if you’ve changed your mind or want to call this whole thing off, that’s totally fine too. I can tell them something last minute came up and we have to reschedule, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

You cuddle into his warm embrace. He always makes you feel so safe. “No, I do want to do this. And I trust you, I promise. I’m just nervous and overthinking, as usual.”

“Well that’s okay, you have me to help calm you down and reassure you that it’ll all be okay. And if at any point you want to leave, I’ll be right there with you, okay? I got you,” he says, rubbing your back and leaving a quick kiss on your forehead.

You nod, feeling much better now. He holds his hand on top of yours the whole car ride to Damiano and Giorgia’s house. 

— — — 

You both arrive at their house to Giorgia greeting you at the door. 

“Y/N, Ethan, so glad you both could make it over for dinner! I feel like we haven’t seen you in forever!”

“I’m so happy we could be here too, we’ve missed you,” you reply as Ethan smiles and takes your jacket off, taking his time to hang it on the rack. 

Their three cats are excited to see you as well, you always give them the best pets. You share a look with Ethan and can already see him trying not to laugh at the picture of you, his kitten, and real cats, and you just roll your eyes. 

“Damiano’s in the kitchen, making his famous amatriciana, come say hi.” Giorgia leads you to their beautiful kitchen, where you lay your eyes on Damiano, wearing a ‘kiss the cook’ apron and stirring a pot of pasta. 

He turns to you with a big smile on his face. He goes to greet Ethan first with a hug and a kiss on his cheek and then turns to you. Your nerves have risen again and Damiano can tell. He just doesn’t know why. You reassure him the best you can by changing the subject after your own hug and kiss from him. 

“Wow, it smells incredible, I can’t wait to try it!” 

At the dinner table, you and Ethan sit close together across from Damiano and Giorgia, who are exchanging the cutest loving looks with each other. You’re caught up in the way he looks at her and you seem to tune back into the conversation at just the right time. 

You hear Giorgia in the middle of retelling a story with Damiano blushing by her side. “It was the cutest thing ever I swear. I knew Dami wasn’t feeling the best that day and then that just had to happen at the event.” She rolls her eyes even thinking about it. “But you picked up on it so quick Ethan. You saved the day. Thank you for making my baby feel comfortable.”  

Ethan gives you a quick look before turning back to Dami and Giorgia. “Baby?” he asks with wide eyes, mostly for your sake because he already knows why she calls him that. 

“Yeahh, he’s my baby.” Giorgia beams while Dami suppresses a smile, staring down at his plate. She comforts him by scratching his hair at the back of his neck while you and Ethan share a look of understanding. Ethan gives that same look to Giorgia and she gets Dami’s attention to give him a sweet smile and whisper something in his ear. You can’t hear it but it seems to give him some confidence because he suddenly gains a cocky grin and a twinkle in his eyes when he straightens his posture and looks directly at you and Ethan before giving Giorgia a nod. 

“We’d love to hear more about your relationship. You’re a gorgeous couple, and as you probably know, we also have a bit of an unconventional dynamic between us” Ethan says, placing your hand in his on your lap and smiling gently at you. You and Damiano share the same shy blush which makes Ethan and Giorgia want to make your slight embarrassment even stronger.

“My baby definitely likes it when I take charge in the relationship, especially in the bedroom.” That part has Dami suppressing a giggle. “He might even have a little crush on you Ethan.” Dami stares at her with wide eyes and she just smiles at him, her thumb stroking his neck still. 

Ethan cuts the tension with a laugh. “I uh, kinda figured that.” He shifts his attention right to Damiano. “But I think it’s pretty cute honestly. I have a bit of a crush on him too. And so does y/n. We both think he’s adorable.” Damiano is beaming under all this praise. “And of course you are fucking stunning Giorgia, we obviously respect you and your relationship. And … we have a proposition.”

Giorgia smirks at Dami like she knows what he will say and they’ve already talked about it. Ethan sees this, ever the observer, and makes the call to continue, sensing it will go in the right direction. 

“Y/n and I are in an owner/pet power dynamic relationship. It’s not 24/7 or anything like that, but we do like to play around with it a lot. As you can see, she is collared by me, owned by me.” Hearing him say that so proudly makes you melt in your seat. You’re too busy reveling in Ethan’s words to notice anything else, but Ethan pays close attention to Giorgia and Damiano’s reactions. Giorgia nods along, listening intently, while Dami’s eyes are wide, looking like a kid in a candy store, barely hiding his excitement. “And recently, we’ve been talking about potentially inviting Damiano into our bedroom for a scene. Again, obviously we don’t want to disrespect your relationship so please, if we are overstepping let us know and we don’t have to speak of it again.”

Giorgia looks at Dami and he smiles at her. Such sweet unspoken understanding between the two. “I’d be happy to let my kitty explore with you. I trust you both thoroughly and think you’d make excellent additions to our dynamic. He’s a very social kitty and would do well with a playmate.” She smiles at Dami who simply cannot contain his happiness and has his arms wrapped around her, probably squeezing a bit too tight. 

“That sounds wonderful,” Ethan replies. “Why don’t you and I talk through some specifics here while our kittens run off to the living room to talk it through for themselves?”

In the living room, you sit with Dami on the couch, both of you taking notice of how your knees touch. 

“So, how long have you and Ethan been doing this?” Damiano asks.

“Bringing someone else in? Never. But it’s been about a year of him officially being my Dom. I remember when he finally gave me my collare, how special that moment was.” Your fingers instinctively got to touch the gold heart at the base of your neck. Dami watches and listens to you, loving hearing you talk about your relationship with such reverence. “It was such a beautiful little ceremony, he told me the sweetest things and said I’d be his forever. And the first scene after being collared, it just made it so perfect. It was the moment when I knew this is exactly what I want for the future.”

“That’s so beautiful. I’m excited to have that moment with my Domme.” Damiano says, his eyes filled with love. 

“When did you and Giorgia make it official?” you ask, seeing that somehow you’ve both drifted closer together on the couch.

“It’s still fairly new, we’re only a few months in with this dynamic. We explored a lot before that, but it’s only been official since then. It was hard for me to truly admit what I wanted. I used to feel weak for wanting it ya know? Men aren’t supposed to want a woman to dominate them. But I do. And once I stopped fighting it and let myself be who I wanted to be, everything started to make more sense. All the pieces fit together. It just feels so right.” 

“I agree completely, it just feels so right when it’s meant to be.” you say, and although spilling your feelings and relating with another sub has been nice, you try to lighten the mood a bit and bring up a new topic. “So… I have another question.” Damiano raises an eyebrow to prompt you to continue.

“When did you bring up the whole ‘crush on Ethan’ thing with Giorgia?”

He laughs, a little embarrassed now. “I didn’t really have to. Giorgia figured it out one day when I got back from tour and every story was about Ethan this and Ethan that, how sweet he was at this restaurant or how much progress he’s made at the gym, or how clever he was for saving my ass on stage when I fucked up a song. Yeah I just couldn’t shut up about him.” He’s bashful, but also seems so happy talking about him. 

“You know, Ethan admires you so much. He loves how vulnerable you can be, especially in your songwriting. He finds you absolutely adorable when you get all stubborn. And he always goes off about how beautiful you look at one red carpet or another. And I can’t help but agree. You really are magnificent Damiano.”

He’s blushing and smiling of course, all his cocky bravado left at the door in favor of his more excitable soft side. “I think the same of you. You’re amazing and stunning, and clearly so good for Ethan. He really shines when he’s with you.” Then there’s this glint in his eye when he goes silent for a second. “And don’t think I’m not equally as obsessed with you as I am with Ethan. There was this one time, you know at the album release party, where you were wearing that one tight black dress, and I could not stop staring at your butt the whole night.” You laugh at his sudden change of tone, there’s the sassy Dami you know and love. “What? I’m just being honest! It’s quite a feat to get my eyes off both my girlfriend and your boyfriend in favor of an ass, but you managed it. Ethan is a very lucky man to get to stare at that ass whenever he wants.”

Both of your laughter dies down as Dami has one more comment to make. “But really though, you two work so well together. I respect your relationship so much.”

“Well, practice makes perfect in relationships I guess.”

He raises an eyebrow and winks.

“That is not the kind of practice I meant!” 

“I know, I know… But also that right?” he gets a mischievous look in his eyes when he sees your shy smile in response. Damiano’s always been the type to spot someone’s true feelings and use them to make the conversation more interesting. “I mean I bet you two have a very active sex life. Am I wrong?” 

Now it’s your turn to blush. “Of course we do. And apparently you’ll be finding out soon enough,” you say with a dramatic wink. You’ve somehow found yourselves even closer together, your knees overlapping as you laugh with each other. 

Your giggling confessions are interrupted by both of your doms coming in and looking at you like they caught you with your hands in the cookie jar.

“Have you two been getting up to something naughty?” Giorgia jokes. You and Dami look at each other, trying your hardest to keep a straight face but you just can’t. You both break out laughing again simultaneously, your joy contagiously spreading to Giorgia and Ethan as well. 

Ethan leads you to the door with a gentle but firm hand on your lower back. Before you can reach the door, Damiano rushes up behind you to give you a big hug before he spins you around for a quick kiss that takes you by surprise. You both smile into it and enjoy each other's embrace as you look on to see Ethan and Giorgia whispering something to each other in their own hug before they part. Before Ethan can come back to you, Giorgia sneaks in to give you a goodbye hug and kiss on the cheek. 

“I hope you and Ethan have fun with Dami, let me know how it goes. If it goes well, maybe I’ll have to join you next time.” Giorgia tells you with a grin in Ethan’s direction, giving you an idea of what they spoke about. Looking over at Ethan, he’s still got Damiano encased in his big arms, stroking his back with his thumb. There’s a new understanding in their hug, like they’ve always wanted to hug like that but have never been able to. All the pressure is off now. Your heart swells at the sight.

— — — 

The next morning, you’re up earlier than usual and decide to get some dishes washed before the rest of the world wakes up. Your mind drifts off as the sound of the water running in the sink drowns every other little sound out. You think of what Ethan and Giorgia could have talked about and how that would dictate how the big night would go. How your mind wants to know so badly every little detail and have some control over it, but your heart trusts your Dom and knows that he’ll make it perfect for you. 

You’re taken out of your thoughts when you feel something warm and wet on your neck followed by a strong grip around your waist. 

“Slow down there buddy, it’s only 8am.”

“Sorry, I just can’t keep my hands off of my pretty kitty.” He detaches himself from you but stays closeby, leaning on the counter next to you and picking up a towel to dry the dishes you just washed. There’s a silence between you for a moment, but it’s never an awkward silence, just comfortable and homey. Until your curiosity gets the better of you.

“So, the conversation went well I presume?” 

“It did. Giorgia and I worked out a few rules and boundaries, making sure all four of us are comfortable with everything. She and Damiano actually talked about something like this before so she told me about that. And we worked out a date that works for all of us.” Ethan puts the dish towel down with no more dishes to dry, your washing being forgotten as soon as you get too enthralled in his words to focus on the dishes. “Do you want to know some more specifics or keep it a surprise for the scene?”

“I want to know!” you very quickly reply. 

“Hmm okay then. But you have to earn it.” 

You assume the smirk on his lips gives away how exactly he wants you to earn it and you lower yourself to your knees in front of him. He smiles but shakes his head.

“Not like that.” he says. You frown, thinking you did a good job, but he quickly corrects himself. “It’s okay, you’re still a good kitty. But I was joking about earning it. I’ll always tell you specifics about a scene if you want to know. C’mere, sit with me.” You both slide down to sit on the floor leaning against the counter. 

“So it’s going to happen tomorrow night, here at our house. Giorgia is going to drop off Damiano and pick him up again in the morning. The scene will start as soon as he comes in and for that night, you’re both my submissives. Sexual play is also on the table. Is that something you’re comfortable with?”

“It definitely is!” “Someone’s a little eager huh?” Ethan teases you. You turn your eyes away, too shy to look at him all the sudden. You are now very aware of your heart rate picking up its pace and the movement of your legs shifting around on the floor. Ethan just smiles and stands up, leaving you confused and pouting beneath him. 

“Are you still interested in your original proposal?” You perk up now, understanding his change in attitude. You rise to your knees, a little too excited to make it graceful, and start rubbing his legs through his sweatpants. Your fingers find his waistband, trying to get them off as quickly as possible. You discover that he wasn’t wearing underwear but choose to ignore this fact for now, instead making it your goal to get him fully hard before touching his cock. With your newfound real estate, you get to work kissing and licking all up and down his legs, leaving a trail of saliva on his thighs and nipping at his hips gently. You watch him get hard as you trace your fingertips lightly over his v-line muscles and suck on the skin of his inner thigh. 

By the time you feel Ethan’s fingers combing through your hair to gently encourage you closer to him, you feel yourself washing into a trance, letting him guide your head where he wants you and letting your vision be filled with his beautiful body. Your lips meet the tip of his cock and you give him the sweetest kisses. Your little licks match the rhythmic pattern of his fingertips stroking your scalp. 

“God you’re so adorable I can’t handle it,” Ethan grunts and you look up, your wide glassy eyes meeting his. “Keep your eyes on me kitty.” His thumb pulls at the corner of your lips and you comply, opening your mouth to let him push inside. His mouth falls open slightly in a soft moan as he sets a good pace for his thrusts while your tongue plays with the underside of his dick as it slides in and out of your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby. Your mouth feels so good. Imagine how much fun we’re gonna have with Dami here too.” You know he’s saying this to rile you up and get you all hot and bothered but you can tell the thought has him excited too. “I’ll have you both on your knees for me, have you both be my good little kitties all night long.” His thrusts pick up in pace as he goes on about his fantasy and soon enough he’s grunting and gasping and holding onto your hair tighter. Still looking into your eyes, he holds himself deep in your throat and you feel him pulse in your mouth as his cum spills down your throat. 

“Oh my God, how can you be so damn cute while giving a blowjob?” he asks while cleaning off some of his cum off your lip after letting you catch your breath. 

“Do you think you’ll be able to handle two stubborn kittens at once?” you ask, still feeling bold enough to push his buttons. He just gives you a stern look that tells you that you better be a good kitten. Maybe you shouldn’t have pushed it.

— — — 

It’s the day of the scene and you’re just finishing up making the bed with all your nice and fluffy pillows and blankets. Ethan has put out a bunch of toys to have plenty of options to choose from and set up a little aftercare station on the nightstand. You and Ethan had a brief talk yesterday with Giorgia and Damiano just to go over everything again and make sure everyone’s on the same page. You’re ready, a little nervous, but ready. 

Ethan beckons you over to where he is sitting on his comfy chair. You automatically kneel down on the fluffy mat that’s situated between his feet. 

“You look beautiful kitty.” You already have on your best collar along with a comfy all-black bralette and shorts set to match. 

Ethan starts giving your chin and jaw soft scratches and your eyes fall shut. He trails his fingertips up your arm and brings your sensitive wrist up to his lips to give it slow and gentle kisses, letting you fall deep into subspace feeling nice and floaty and safe. Inner wrist kisses are one of the easiest ways to get you to fall deep. 

“There you go kitten, just like that,” he whispers and you barely register it. Subspace is always a little foggy at the beginning for you. But the praise still feels nice as his lips trail up your palm and he leaves a kiss to each fingertip. 

Once you’re nice and relaxed and you’re purring as your cheek rests on his thigh, he tilts your head up by your chin, looking you in the eyes and giving you a smirk. You can see the mischief in his eyes and it lights a fire within you to challenge him. He of course knows this about you and beats you to it by giving your collar a little tug before you can try anything sneaky. A smirk of your own grows on your lips as you feel the tingly sensation of excitement run through your veins. 

Just as you’re ready to pounce onto his lap, you’re startled by the doorbell ringing. Your body acts before your mind and you get up to run to the door. You make it about an inch before you feel yourself being pulled back to the ground by Ethan’s hand on your upper arm. 

“I want you to wait and kneel on the bed while I go let Dami in.” He waits until you do so. You pout but still comply. 

At the door, Ethan greets Damiano and Giorgia, stepping aside for Damiano to walk in. 

“Treat him well tonight.” Giorgia says to Ethan before blowing a kiss to a blushing Dami and walking back to her car. 

Damiano is nervous, rubbing his palms together, looking everywhere in the room but at Ethan. Assessing the nervous mess in front of him, Ethan knows he has to take charge right off the bat to make him more comfortable. 

“Come sit with me.” Ethan leads Dami over to the couch and he happily follows, relieved to have some guidance in this awkward situation. He tries to sit with Ethan on the couch but is quickly corrected. “No, kitties aren’t allowed on the couch.”

Dami takes his time getting onto his knees but Ethan doesn’t comment on it, he knows he’s trying his best to be good. Since Ethan has never played with Dami before, he doesn’t know what will get him relaxed like he does with you. He starts slowly, just using his fingers to massage and scratch Dami’s scalp and comb through his hair gently. Ethan hears his breathing even out and his expression soften. It’s working. It finally hits Ethan that this is really happening and that he has an obedient pliable Damiano under him right now. 

Dami starts whimpering quietly and leaning into his touches. Ethan trails his fingers down across his face, tracing his features and taking the time to appreciate them fully. He reaches his mouth and feels his soft lips as Dami finds the courage to look up at him. He can see in his eyes that he’s falling into subspace. He traces his finger across the seam of his lips until they open for him. Dami tries to be good and only uses his tongue to lick his finger but he just can’t help himself. He gets feisty and starts to nibble on Ethan’s finger. As much as Ethan finds this fucking adorable, he has to put a stop to this behaviour. 

“Hey! No biting, bad kitty.” Dami leaves him with one last little nibble before letting his finger be free. 

Ethan leads Dami to the bedroom where you’ve been waiting patiently. As soon as you see them your eyes light up and Dami’s expression matches yours when he sees you too. You immediately lean your upper body down to welcome him onto the bed to play. He takes you up on that and jumps onto the bed with you.

“Careful, he bites.” Ethan warns from the edge of the bed but you  pay no attention, too excited to finally have another kitten to play with. You both stare at each other, waiting for the other to initiate. Some plush toys come flying at the bed from Ethan and both you and Dami go for the same one, a fluffy rabbit toy, tugging on either end to try to win the toy. 

“Play nice, you can share,” Ethan says to you both. You both drop the toy, instead choosing to just toss it around to each other, making a game out of it. 

“Good kitties, I knew you could get along together.” You toss the toy to Dami but it changes course and veers to the left of the big bed. He lunges for it and catches it with his whole body, a big smile on his face when he realizes he caught it. He tosses it back with a little more force than last time and you fall backwards in your attempt to catch it. 

You toss it back and forth a few more times but this game is only entertaining for two demanding kittens for so long. Dami gets bored first and decides to make you his new toy instead. He comes at you with the biggest smirk on his face and determined eyes, tackling you to the bed. You squeal and thrash but he’s stronger and holds you down. 

Ethan decides to help you out, pushing Dami back roughly. You take advantage of your newfound freedom and pounce onto Dami, pinning him down with your arms and legs. You think you have the upper hand now, with Dami struggling under you, but he breaks free and rolls you onto your back once again pinning you down. This time he just watches you struggle and whine with a smirk on his face. He waits until you’re too tired to keep fighting him and leans down to gently kiss the tip of your nose. You giggle and scrunch your nose at the unexpected affection. 

Ethan just watches with hearts in his eyes at the adorable show you two are putting on. He lets you both get comfortable with each other, which seems to be quite effective, and lets you get some energy out together before he has his way with you. 

Once you’re both tired out and snuggling into each other like little kittens when they’re about to nap, Ethan climbs onto the bed and your energy is somehow immediately reinvigorated. He sits back on the bed and lets you both lean against him as you play a little more. Dami’s paws start wandering on your body and you’re getting a little worked up from it. Ethan can definitely tell by your warmed skin against him and the way you lean into Dami’s touches. 

“Would you like some help to relieve that tension?” Ethan asks you and you smile up at him. You hear a whine and look over to see Dami with a big frown, so hurt that he wouldn’t offer that to him too. 

Ethan laughs, asking, “would you like a helping hand as well?” to Dami. His eyes light up as he nods enthusiastically. You look at Ethan, then at Dami, then back to Ethan, waiting for his guidance on the next step. 

Ethan starts petting Dami on the back of his neck and Dami melts, leaning in and silently begging for more of his touch. He encourages Dami to keep touching you by placing his paw over your breast. He touches you, and he’s so gentle with you. It’s adorable but frustrating so you push his hand into your chest for more. He takes the hint and starts kneading your breasts just right and playing with your nipple through the fabric. Ethan’s strokes travel down Dami’s chest and he matches him by giving his nipples a little attention. That gets Dami a little too worked up though, and he accidentally scratches you across your ribcage. Ethan is immediately ready to act and correct his behavior, but you throw your head back, letting out a loud moan, and he calms down, seeing that you liked it. Dami is spurred on by your reaction and finds new places to lightly scratch on your body to hear your reactions. 

You finally feel brave enough to touch Dami too, running your hands along his sides, up his shirt and toying with the waistband of his pants. It’s gentle and cute and you keep it up when you hear the encouragement of his moans and gasps. You learn very quickly just how loud and dramatic Dami can be, writhing and the lightest touches already. But you love it, it’s nice to hear when he likes what you’re doing to him. Ethan seems to like it too, joining in on the fun with his own touches to the both of you. His touch is more firm and less curious than Dami’s. And more determined. His hands are the ones to begin removing clothes. 

Dami leans in and kisses your neck, his confidence bringing out your own so you show him exactly where you like it and give him soft moans when he shifts there. His kisses turn into nibbles and sucks and it feels so good, your body arches into his. He keeps going until he decides he wants more fun and bites a little too hard and you yelp from the surprise. Within a second, Ethan pulls him off your neck by his hair and Dami whimpers, scared of what Ethan could do to punish his brattiness. 

Ethan can tell how scared he is and laughs a little, determining that his fear is enough of a punishment for him. “How about you put your mouth to better use?” Ethan pushes his head down between your legs. Very excited about the turn this took, Dami gets right to licking and is so happy to be there, tongue out and ready to please. He’s good at it too, like his mouth was made to eat pussy. His tongue softly laps up all your wetness and his lips encase your clit, sucking gently before dipping back down and pushing into you. 

“Use your fingers too, pretty kitty, that’s how she likes it,” Ethan instructs, petting his hair. Dami obliges, stroking his middle finger down your pussy until it sinks deep into you. After a couple thrusts with just one, he adds another thick finger to stretch you out while his lips and tongue continue their magic on your clit. You let out little whimpers and soft moans, letting yourself drift into a happy blissful state of only pleasure. 

You can feel vibrations in your pussy and hear Dami moaning too. You open your eyes to see Dami, with his face buried in your pussy and his back arched with his ass up. You can just barely see Ethan behind him, his head moving as he licks Dami’s asshole. Your focus is shifted down as you also notice Ethan’s big veiny hand jerking Dami off slowly. The sight is too much to handle for your foggy little brain and you pull Dami in even closer. Ethan reaches out with his free hand to hold over your paw and it comforts you. 

Dami sees this and gets jealous, deciding the right course of action is to be a brat again, he takes both his fingers out of you and only just barely brushes his lips against your pussy. You whine out and Ethan catches on to what he’s doing so he punishes him by stopping his stimulation altogether. 

“Dami, be a good kitty and make y/n feel good and you’ll get your reward. Good kitties finish what they started.” Ethan waits until Dami gets back to work, but not before giving you a teasing long lick and letting the cool air of his breath hit your sensitive pussy first. That one gets him a quick slap on the ass from Ethan which spurs him on to give his very best to you. 

You can feel yourself getting closer with each stroke of your g-spot and lick of your clit. Your moans get higher pitched and your pussy clenches onto Dami’s fingers. Your mind is filled with the beautiful sounds of moans and whimpers and you feel tingles all over your body. Your legs are pushed open by Dami. You didn’t even realize you were shutting them. You pay no attention to how loud you’re being or how your body bucks and leans into the pleasure, just letting yourself go. The feeling builds in you and Ethan squeezes your hand as you release and cum onto Dami’s mouth and fingers, your hips humping his face as your orgasm runs through you. 

Quickly after your orgasm, you can feel Dami cumming onto the sheets beneath him with a moan so loud it could be a scream. He bucks into Ethan’s hand and you watch his cum shoot out, wishing it was shooting into you instead. His eyes roll back as the last of his orgasm washes over him and he falls onto your pussy when Ethan’s overstimulation becomes too much for him. Your pussy is just too sensitive right now and Dami’s face smushed into you hurts a little but he’s still recovering so Ethan has to step in and remove him by gently pushing his chin so he’s resting on your thigh instead now. 

You hear Ethan laughing and look up to see why and are greeted by the sight of Dami’s entire blissed-out face covered in your wetness from face planting into your pussy. It’s very cute seeing him like that. 

“Aww, my little kitty got too enthusiastic huh? Well that’s okay. I have another kitty right here to clean up your mess.” Ethan looks at you. You lean in and lick off your own wetness from Dami’s cheeks and his nose and everywhere else it ended up until he’s nice and clean and back to reality, playfully swatting you off as you giggle, trying to finish the job. 

As you both settle into the bed, like the happily satisfied kittens you are, Ethan reaches over to his aftercare table he set up to get some snacks. He picks up a bowl of cut up fruit and feeds you both, alternating between bites so no one gets jealous. 

When you’re done, you lick the fruit juices off of Ethan’s fingers happily like a good kitty. Dami on the other hand, nips at his fingers. Ethan doesn’t have it in him to scold him during aftercare so he just removes his fingers from his mouth and sets down two bowls of water on a tray. You and Dami lean down and lap up the water greedily. 

Ethan puts everything away neatly and then gets under the covers, pulling you both with him. “C’mon, let me cuddle with my cute little kitties now.” You and Dami each rest your heads on either side of his chest and meet in the middle for a kiss before settling into the cuddle. But, Dami can’t stay still for too long. He whines and paws at Ethan’s chest, basically humping his hip. 

“Just like a cat in heat.” Ethan teases, trying to calm the restless kitten. “Y/N, you’ve been a good kitty tonight, like always,” Ethan tells you, knowing how much you thrive off of his praise. Dami pouts, wanting some praise of his own. “Well maybe if you behave, I’ll call you a good kitty too,” Ethan scolds him, but his words don’t hit too hard as he smiles and continues petting Dami even as he says them. “But even if you were a brat, I loved getting to play with you. And I know, deep down inside, you’re a good kitty.”

Ethan gives you each a sweet kiss before you all succumb to the exhaustion from your scene, falling asleep all tangled up in each other. 

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