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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years

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The one with Damiano in a bra

Masterlist | Taglist | Ko-Fi

Description | You had gotten used to seeing your boyfriend perform in the most devilish ways. But something about him wearing a bra just ticks you off...

Content | Smut

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 2230

Taglist | @mywritingonlyfans @damianodavide @lizstans @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @bethanysnow @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @nientedaridere @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @damianodavidhands @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @foryourllove @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @petit-poussin @fedorable-killjoys @victoriadeangeliswifey @luvbadass @buttercup-beeee @tryymebitch @mell-bell @fenhakwe @solacestyles @navs-bhat @softforlukescurls @vicsangel @theimpossiblehologramtree @alina-exe @supercorp-mari @thatonebraziliangirl @dannasixxworld @immrbrightside @lifeofa-fangirl

Shoutout to @perfectlyunbiasedobservation for giving this the edit it deserves!

***

You had really thought their stage behaviour couldn't get any worse. What a silly idea. If anything, it seemed like the band kept trying to top every single performance they had given in the past, every single time they performed.

Today was no different. Standing in the press pit in front of the stage, photographers and security bustling around you, you found yourself rolling your eyes at the way Damiano ripped his fishnet top apart, putting on a show for the audience and finding just the expected reception in them. If it hadn't been so silly, it would have potentially turned you on. But your boyfriend would need a lot more than that to get you going.

And a lot more you got, rather unexpectedly, when a bra was thrown on stage. Damiano didn't take long to think about it, immediately slinging it over his shoulders to wear the piece. It shouldn't have affected you this much really. He'd posed in underwear before, even dressed in lingerie for the IWBYS video shoot. But so far, you had never had the pleasure of seeing it in the flesh and you came to realise - this felt different. The way he moved in it, the way he looked at the audience, the confidence in his step. You felt impossibly attracted to him.

And then he met your eyes. You knew he usually avoided seeking you out during performances, wanting to stay focused on his job and the audience, but for some reason, he was staring you down now, a smirk suddenly appearing on his face, and you didn't realise what was happening until his eyes flickered up and down your body. You were scrunching the fabric of your skirt, balling it up in your fists, and tightly holding onto it, right in between your legs. Shocked at your own actions, you immediately loosened your grip, letting it fall back down over your thighs. Heat spreading on your face. As you looked back up, he stared at you just long enough to send you a knowing wink. You hated that man.

***

Backstage was as busy as ever. You barely got a chance to say hi to your boyfriend before he was once again whisked away for photos, interviews, whatever else was needed of him and you let him be, well aware that this was his job. You'd have him all to yourself later on anyway.

Unfortunately, 'later on' didn't come until late night. When the buzz was slowly dying and taxis were bringing you back to the hotel, and the door behind your hotel room finally closed and left you in silence, you were finally alone with him again. All you wanted to do was sink into his arms, cuddle up in the sheets, have an early night of just being with him. Instead, he rushed into the shower and when he was done, urged you to take one too, knowing fully well how much you hated going to bed feeling sweaty from a day at a festival.

You obliged with a sigh. Yet, when you finally stepped out of the bathroom, nothing but a bathrobe tightly tied around you, you suddenly sighed for a completely different reason.

He was in lingerie. Not just any lingerie. Yours. The one you picked out specifically for him, knowing how much he would love seeing you in it. Fine black lace cups, thin straps with tiny roses adorning them, the panties almost see-through. He was a sight to behold and judging by the way he had draped himself across the bed, lying on his side, leaning on his elbow, he knew it too.

"Saw the way you were eyeing me up at the gig today," he smirked in that annoying way that made you want to either slap him or kiss it off him.

"Oh, so trying on underwear is your thing now?" You smirked playfully at him. “You better not stretch it out though, it’s brand new.”

You weren't half as calm and collected as you were trying to appear and he knew you well enough to see right through it.

"Didn't think you'd complain about the stretch actually," he mused, rolling onto his back and spreading his legs, letting you see just how much the fabric was struggling to contain him. One more wrong move and he would be slipping out, easily. It was hypnotising, if you were being honest. "You can always get me out of it if it worries you too much."

In one smooth movement, you untied the bathrobe, then shrugged it off your shoulders, letting it fall to the ground beneath your feet. You could see his composure wavering ever so slightly, amazed and proud that you still had this kind of effect on him. You made your way over to him, slow steps, eyes on him, even though you wanted nothing more than just jump on him right then and there.

"Not sure if what you got there is even enough to put a dent in the fabric, actually," you teased, as you lowered yourself onto the bed, giving his cock a quick swipe over the material of the panties. It was a blatant lie, and your touch proved you wrong easily, as he grew under your gaze.

"Why don't you give it a little help then?"

You straddled his legs, not as high up as he would have liked you to, nowhere near touching his cock, and leaned forward. A soft kiss on his lips, one that promised both love and so much more to come. His hands wandered into your hair, but you quickly separated before he could deepen it. He had made a right mess of you on stage already, now it was your time to play.

Sitting back up, your hands travelled over his torso, finding the delicate lace of the bra, then tracing along the parts where the fabric met his skin.

"Such a pretty boy," you mumbled, fascinated by the way goosebumps appeared in the wake of your touch. Your hands went deeper, further down his body, and when they reached the waistband of the panties, he buckled into you, yet finding nothing but air where he needed you most. "So desperate, it's almost pathetic. Did you get all worked up on stage, baby?"

"It wasn't bad until I spotted you," he gasped at your feather-light touch over the fabric. "That look in your eyes, and the way you were grabbing your skirt. Might have to ban you from upcoming shows."

"Aw, but where's the fun in that?" You only gave him a second to reply, a false sense of safety, before grabbing onto the panties and pushing them down to his thighs in a sudden move. Now free of all confines, his cock stood more proudly than ever, begging to be touched, begging for any sort of friction. You could see his cool facade slipping, already crumbling into a whining mess below you, and you had barely done anything to him.

You couldn't blame him. Sitting on his thighs like this, you were sure it was only a matter of time before he felt your wetness on his legs.

You got up from your seat, however enjoyable, you pulled down the panties all the way, letting them drop on the floor and briefly admiring the tiny dark spot that had already appeared in them. As soon as you turned back to him, you could see him fumbling with the bra. An unimpressed noise left your mouth.

"And what do you think you're doing?" You were back to taking a seat on him, this time much higher than he was hoping for, feeling the muscles of his stomach under you, just out of reach of his cock brushing against your arse.

"Getting this off, it's too small and it's starting to hurt."

"Oh, and you think I care? After all the stunts you've pulled today?" You raised your eyebrows at him, removing his hands from his back and putting them onto your boobs instead. "Why don't you make yourself a little more useful instead."

The gears in his head were turning, quite obviously trying to decide whether he wanted to shoot back at your comments but one look from you had him quiet down, slowly moving against your breasts now with much too little pressure.

"Harder, Damiano, you know how I like it."

His hands grasped onto you now, massaging your breasts eagerly, immediately opting for pinching your nipples instead of a softer treatment, and you thanked him with an arching back and breathy moans. Suddenly, one of his hands was between your legs, and you briefly contemplated telling him off for not waiting for your instructions, but his fingers felt heavenly on your wet heat, and the groan he let out as he touched you was too good.

A small fuck tumbled from his lips and you let yourself enjoy his actions for a little while, the feeling of his hands on between your legs and on your breast, and you moved back just enough to feel his hard-on touch your back. Lifting yourself up, you let his cock move against your pussy, just enough to let him feel the wetness, but far from giving him any relief at all. Another moan erupted you as he bumped against your clit.

You knew he wanted to turn you around, do you the way he usually liked to, but as soon as he made a move towards it, you pushed him down again heavily, hands on his chest.

"Do you really think you have anything to say while wearing lingerie like that?"

"But-"

You tutted at him, foiling every attempt to make the two of you switch positions. "You're going to keep lying there and let me fuck you while I stare at this gorgeous sight in front of me, pretty boy."

You didn't give him any more time to protest, grabbing onto his cock and moving it inside of you swiftly, both of you moaning loudly at the contact. Nothing could ever come close to the feeling that having sex with your boyfriend gave you. That kind of otherworldly, sinful, yet loving thing that embraced both of you, the kind of connection that prevailed even through dirty words and heavy moans.

"Come on, pretty boy, fuck me harder. Show me you're not just good for putting on a show on stage."

He didn't have to be told twice, immediately meeting your rhythm, moving up and into you. You couldn't tell if the sounds leaving his mouth were supposed to be words, English or Italian, spurring you on or praising you, but it didn't matter. He was driving you to the point of no return, fast. Images of him crawling around on stage filled your mind, the way he used his tongue, his hands travelling down his own body only to grab his crotch in a gesture that should have been crude but had you desperate for his touch. And when you opened your eyes again, the view overwhelmed you even more.

Damiano, lying on his back, that gorgeous piece of lingerie still on him, tattoos peeking out above and underneath and everywhere else on his body. Hands gripping onto your thighs, desperately searching for something to hold on to. Face fucked out, head thrown back, eyes closing against his will, mouth just slightly agape. A pinkish colour tinting his cheeks from the arousal. It was all you wanted for the rest of your life.

Then, he was touching you again, finger rubbing against your clit in just the way he had learned you like, and it only took a little more, the right flick, the perfect arch, to feel yourself coming undone. The feeling crashed over you all at once, gripping onto Damiano for dear life as you rode it out on him, moans turning high-pitched before dying down, leaving only delicate breaths on your lips.

He was desperate now, you realised as you floated back to earth, irregular groans and hips failing to keep a rhythm underneath you.

"Come on, gorgeous, give me your worst," you spurred him on as he chased his own high, your hands once again finding his chest, this time pulling down the bra just enough to feel for his nipple, quickly hooking onto the piercing and pulling it towards you ever so slightly. "I want to feel you come inside me."

It was all it took. Damiano came in gorgeous groans, with fingers dipping into your hips so hard you were sure you were going to find bruises tomorrow, and you thought it was the most beautiful sight to behold. You didn’t lift yourself up until he was well and truly spent. Then you cradled up next to him, ignoring the way his fluids were running out of you and onto the sheets and made quick work of removing the bra. Little dented lines were visible in its place now. He didn't hesitate to turn on his side and hold you close.

"Maybe I should steal your underwear more often if it means you do me like this," he chuckled into your neck, hiding in your hair and breathing you in. You threw a quick look at the stretched out fabric lying at his side.

"Or maybe it's time we go lingerie shopping for you, my pretty boy."

His content hum was all the agreement you needed.

#maneskin fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #damiano david x reader #damiano david fiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #damiano david smut #mywriting

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its-afucking-mess · 3 years

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What happens after (a smutty blurb with Ethan Torchio)

(cause im a simp, yall are getting fed)

Masterpost

uh warnings: its small, its smut, not proofread in the slightest lol, so its probably gonna be bad, but i wanted to post something so here.

taglist: @icouldbeyourpuppet , @mywritingonlyfans , @oro-e-diamanti , @bidet-and-legolas , @cheese-toastie-11 , @sofckinelectric , @juststalking , @petit-poussin , @glittermalia , @unitersmoonshine , @ethanesimp , @katyldamusic , @superchrystaldrug , @crescenttears , @maneskinrollercoaster , @ethaneskin , @teenyweenynightghost , @idyllicbutterfly , @writingmaneskin (i think thats all, if u want to be in the taglist say so <3)

_________

Walking backstage has never felt more relieving. Ethan holds back a giggle at your disheveled state, but you shush him before he has a chance to comment. Your heels are promptly tossed off.

"Straight, white, old men. Are disgusting." you say, and Ethan bursts into laughter, folding over in the chair he's sitting. Your nostrils flare in an attempt to not smile, but his wheezes are too infectious.

"How come?" he manages after a bit, breathless. Your hands make way through your bodysuit, taking off the restricting fabric. "Typical men bullshit. God, I hate them so much," you comment, and Ethan scoffs. "You get a pass. You're tolerable". His lips curl into a smirk.

"Who tried to cum in your drink tonight?" he asks in a tone so casual, it would be concerning hadn't you been working at a strip club. You just sigh, dramatically crashing in the stool next to him. He seems absorbed in unlacing his corset.

"Don't remind me of that. And, no one, thankfully," you reply, fumbling with the clip of your bralette. "He wanted to pay extra for 'the real experience". Ethan makes a face. "Security handled him just fine". Your eyes scan over the little counter, trying to locate makeup wipes. In your peripheral, you see him finally untying the laces, tossing the now unclasped corset by the rack.

"I really want to go home," he says, dragging his hands over his face. He rubs his eyes and you swat his hands. "Really, what a coincidence!" you mock, and he rolls his eyes, grabbing the wipes from in front of you.

"What are your evening plans?" he asks, eyes shut as he removes some of his eye makeup. You click your tongue, tossing the used wipe in the bin under.

"Probably going to finger myself until I can't see clearly anymore. Maybe some wine too," you reply, and a warm smile appears on Ethan's face. "Sounds like a plan. I might copy you on that one," he comments, taking off the latex pants and folding them hastily. You look into his eyes through the mirror.

"Even the fingering part?" you say, not managing a straight face when Ethan shoots you a wink. "Nah, I'm kidding. Not tonight, at least. Not enough energy,". You raise your brows in contempt, grabbing the drink by your counter. You take a sip, grimacing. It burnt your throat instantly. Ah, yes. The "liquorice" vodka. Liquorice your ass. More like straight acetone. You didn't even like liquorice.

"Who's drink is this?" you ask with a cough, setting it down and grabbing your own drink, some cocktails mashed up together. "Damiano's probably. He's the only one that drinks this shit before a set"

Your eyes widen in interest, cutting your sip short. "Damiano is performing?". Ethan nods, grabbing his own drink. "For another thirty, or something" he clarifies with a look at the clock.

"Well, I know what I'll be fingering myself to tonight. Cheers" you say, raising your drink towards Ethan. He does the same with a chuckle, downing the rest of his drink before getting up. "I'm going, want a ride?" he asks, putting on his jeans and shirt, leaving his stage wear on the rack neatly. You considered your options, getting up to where your own clothes were. You toss your top to the side, not missing the way Ethan's gaze drops to your chest. It doesn't bother you, really. Not with the amount of times you've made straight eye contact with his bulge while he performed.

"Sure. I'm down, Some company would be nice," you wink, putting on a hoodie, followed by some black sweatpants. He smirks, throwing the backpack on his shoulder, offering to hold your bag too. You decline, opting to hold his hand as you exited the crowded club, eyes darting to the current dancers. Damiano seemed to very much enjoy himself, currently holding another guy from the crowd by his choker, gazing into his eyes.

"Well, that's Dami's night sorted out, I guess" you comment with a giggle, and Ethan smiles wide at the sight of his friend. You open the exit door, letting Ethan take you to his car. He opens the door for you, too, making sure you're in and buckled up before closing it and getting in himself.

"So, driving you home?" he asks as the engine ignites, the car starting up. "Or, you down for a hook-up?". You purse your lips in thought. "No pressure, obviously," he adds, and the car makes a turn towards the bigger street. You chew on your nail, considering the offer. It had been a hot second since you last had sex. Ethan is too damn attractive for his own good, or your own.

"Pull over." you call, and Ethan obeys with a confident smirk. He turns into a car park, unsurprisingly empty for it being two in the morning, and shutting off the engine. He pulls his seat further back, and you instantly climb on his lap, sealing your lips together. Trying to make yourself more comfortable, you grind down on his lap, moaning against his lips as you feel him harden under you. You don't miss his almost silent groans, drinking up every last one, hands tangling in his hair, tugging the strands softly. His hands are planted firmly on your hips, holding you in place as he tries to take control of the kiss. You pull back for air, licking your lips as your chest heaves. Ethan seems just as breathless, eyes considerably darker.

Your hands claw on his shirt, tossing it backseat, roaming your hands over his chest. "You seemed warm," you comment, your lips impossibly close, but not touching yet. The light sheen of sweat on his skin makes your hips stutter forward absentmindedly. He smirks against your lips, his hands slipping under your sweatshirt, coming to cup your breasts, rolling his fingers over your hardened buds. You shiver into his touch, and your hands tug at his hair more, hungry lips meeting desperately again as the car gets more heated. Your hands slip lower, resting on his pants' waistline, fingers dipping under the elastic of his boxers. He doesn't stop teasing your nipples, pinching and tugging and rolling one at a time, the other hand trailing lower and lower, not bothering to even tease at the elastic of your sweats, instead going under the fabric, groping your ass hard. You moan into the kiss, and your hands unbutton his jeans, your mouth attaching itself on his neck, sucking dark marks he'd have to cover with makeup tomorrow. He lifts his hips slightly, letting you pull the jeans down and toss them in the passengers seat, your hands instantly pressing against his cock. His head falls back with a sigh, and you feel his hands moving the sweats away from your legs, his fingers teasing the soaked fabric of your panties.

"Good to know that I'm not the only desparate one," he comments, and he pushes it to the side, fingers coming into contact with your skin. It's electrifying, and your hips snap forwards, grinding against his tight underwear. As his hand moves to work on your clit, providing some initial stimulation, your shaky ones pull his cock out if his boxers, needily stroking him a few times, relishing his throaty groan. His fingers move inside you, and the shock has your back arching, hitting the steering wheel. For a moment, he just kisses at your neck, nipping at it until he felt you relax. Your own fingers tease at his tip, collecting all the precum that gathered and soreading it down. When you regain composure, he adds another, spreading them and pressing around, trying to find the one spot that made you see stars. You gather some spit in your mouth, letting it fall on his dick, spreading it around to provide painless friction to the other. Ethan seems delighted, and his fingers move faster inside you, more determined than ever. Your mouths meet in a sloppy kiss, and he swallows your whines as he adds another finger inside you. Your hand is pumping him in a slow pace, feeling his hips twitch at the lack of stimulation. The car has fogged up from inside, and the air feels hot and heavy when Ethan pulls out his fingers and guides his cock towards your entrance, pulling you flush against his hips. You can't contain your moan at the sudden intrusion, and you feel him twitch inside you, walls fluttering around his length.

You start a rythm with quick bounces, desparate to feel him come undone inside of you, desparate to fall apart while he's inside you. Nornally, you rushed to cover yourself, but the way Ethan eyes you up, as if you were a godess he lived to worship. His gaze made you weak, and your thighs burned as you worked both of you in the cramped space of the driver's seat. His hips are chasing yours, and you let his hands guide you as he wishes, your own falling from his shoulders to play with your clit, with your nipples, to around your throat, feeling so close to your breaking point. Ethan doesn't seem to look any better, and from what you could make out in the dark, his bidy was flushed all over, hips stuttering up into you at an impossible rythm.

"Eth- an. Fuck- So close." you manage to choke out, and his hands pull you flush against him, hard, the sound of skin to skin filling the car.

"Go ahead, baby, I'm almost there, f-uck, oh- please cum around me, love, I want to see you come undone" he moans out, and his words are enough to bring you to your climax. You squeeze your eyes shut, hands digging in Ethan's hips as he rode your orgasm out, chasing after his own high. His thrusts became more and more irratic, and you lean over to him, whispering in his ear, "Please, god cum, cum inside me please, I need to feek you, please." you beg, and Ethan slams you down once more before he is spilling inside you, cock twitching as he paints the inside of your walls with his release.

You touch your foreheads together, trying to calm down after your orgasms. The car is impossibly hot, and Ethan turns down the window just a bit, the cold air hitting against your bare thighs.

"We should have done this, so so much earlier," you pant out, and Ethan nods as he looks in the cabinet of the car for tissues, trying to clean you both up slightly, before you went back home.

#ethan torchio #x reader fanfiction #måneskin fanfic #ethan x reader #ethan torchio smut #lol

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