Body Love-A Damiano David One Shot
Summary: Damiano's girlfriend cops a lot of negative attention from the groupies at a Maneskin gig one particular night for not being stick thin. Damiano finds out and makes a point of letting everyone know that he loves his voluptuous vixen.
Word Count: 2795
WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, suggestions of drug use, language, just pure smut so be warned ;)
Please remember this is all fiction and an interpretation from my mind.
REQUESTS: OPEN
----------
Why the fuck did I decide to come tonight?
My mind was crawling with negative thoughts as I wound my way through the crowded venue, dodging drunk pervs and high groupies with every step. I loved my boyfriend, God knows that I did, but I always found it extremely difficult to support him with his music because of the crowds the band drew.
"But you knew this was his life when you met him!" My best friend would always say to which I would always shrug, unsure how to respond, and roll my eyes when she wasn't looking. Yeah, of course I knew this was his life but I never expected in a million years that Damiano would want to be with a girl like me.
I met my boyfriend of six months about a year ago when my previously mentioned best friend Harriet dragged me to a Maneskin show when we were in London. She had been going on about this hot new up and coming Italian rock band that we just HAD to go see before they became too big to play such small shows.
Not really my scene but wanting to step out of my comfort zone for once, I decided to go and well, things have never been the same since.
I bumped into Damiano and Vic after the show when they walked into the same cafe we were getting midnight pancakes and milkshakes at. I still never forget the way his eyes glazed over me making my heart skip a thousand beats just by one simple look. I had seen him on stage, obviously, and knew he was hot, although I never really gave it much more thought than that. But the look on his face, the way his black clothes hung from his slender yet toned body and fuck, the sharpness of that goddamn jawline made me want to crawl into a black hole and never come out because I knew that I could never have him.
But the weirdest thing happened. I did get to have him. He wanted me and he worshipped me and quite honestly, I didn't know how to handle the whole thing. I was so fucking stunned that he chose me over all of those thousands of girls that threw themselves at him night after night.
Me.
I wasn't as thin as these girls, or as blonde. I didn't have a waif like silhouette and I didn't rely on drugs to keep it that way. I had a big ass, size double d (real) breasts and hips that made me hate myself most of the time but I knew they would come in handy when I had kids.
I wasn't overly thrilled with what I saw in the mirror each day.
And it sucked.
But Damiano loved me and I loved him in so many ways.
"Sorry, excuse me," I continued to push my way through the crowd, my hand gripped tight to Harriet's.
"I don't understand why you don't just stand side stage," Harriet yelled in my ear as we found a reasonable spot in the crowd.
"I want to experience it just like everyone else" I replied back to her, "side stage just doesn't do it for me."
I didn't hear what Harriet proceeded to shout into my ear because all I could hear were the girls behind me talking shit.
"Is that Damiano's girlfriend?" One said in a malicious tone.
"Look how big her fuckin' ass is!" The other laughed.
I was frozen. I wanted to die. Everything around me meant nothing right now, all I could hear was the horrible things these girls were saying about me.
"She'd squash him...poor Damiano!"
I could feel the hot tears brimming at the corner of my eyes and I didn't care that they were about to ruin the winged eyeliner I'd spent half an hour on.
The show started and I couldn't even look at Damiano; I felt so shit about myself. Obviously I couldn't hear the girls behind me anymore but their words were hanging round my head like a bad smell. Harriet was jumping up and down beside me, arms flailing about above her, completely unaware of the inner turmoil I was currently experiencing.
"Girl, c'mon, get into it! That's your man!!" She shouted, eyes lit up brightly. She grabbed my hand pulling it up into the air with her but I just couldn't fake it right now when all I wanted to do was run away.
"Babe, what's wrong?" Harriet's concerned eyes stared right into mine when she had stopped jumping. She was having such a good time I felt bad ruining it.
"N-nothing, it's alright...just feel a bit sick," I lied, wiping under my eyes and faking a smile.
"You sure?" She cocked an eyebrow at me sceptically.
"Yep!"
"Oookay," she eyed me not believing a word I was saying but knowing me as well as she did, she decided against pushing the subject any further which I was incredibly thankful for.
I decided to push those soul-cutting words to the back of my head and enjoy my night, jealous bitches behind me or not. Besides, I was the one who got to go home with Damiano, have sex with Damiano and have him hold me all night, not them.
The rest of the gig went incredibly and my mood was lifted to the sky just by the sight of my sexy man head banging and moving his body about on the stage like he did. I swear that I nearly came in my jeans every time I saw him up there.
The absence of the heavy rock music once they had finished and walked off stage lingered in the air eerily but it was quickly replaced by the excited and drunken yelps and squeals from both men and women around the venue.
My long dark hair was probably looking a sight and my tits were just about falling out of the top of my tank and although I was down in the depths of hell earlier on, I was feeling on top of the world right now.
"Alright?" Harriet asked me, taking deep breaths and searching for her asthma puffer in her bag. She always got so puffed out after a Maneskin gig but that just goes to show the intensity of being in the pit for one.
While I waited for Harriet to get herself sorted, I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of the two girls that were stood behind me. I took a mental picture of them both. Bitches.
"Yeah, I'm good," I chuckled. "But are you?"
Between puffs, Harriet managed to stick her tongue out at me, then pull me along to the side of the stage where the backstage door was. She was good at multitasking, my friend Harriet. She was the best friend a girl like me could ever have and although she was taller, thinner and had striking blonde hair, she never made me feel like she thought that she was better than me. We were like chalk and cheese; but the best kind.
The air at a Maneskin gig was always very hazy and I found it hard to keep my eyes open by the end of the night, and right now as we were trying to cross the room. I was going to get the worst crows feet when I was older from all of the squinting I had to do whilst making my way around the damned place.
"Ladies!" A nod of his head and a step to the side, the usual balding security guard, Marco, who went with the band around Europe let us both in the backstage door. I smiled and thanked him, before asking how his kids were doing.
I never much cared for the girls that hung around a Maneskin gig; in case that wasn't already clear. It grinded my nerves to see them hanging off of Thomas and Ethan, Vic too, and you can imagine what it did to me when I saw them trying it on with Dami.
I was always pissed but never surprised when that exact sight greeted me after a show. One, two or three girls hanging off his arms, rubbing their disgusting bodies against him while Damiano was trying desperately not to pay them any attention but sort of failing. I never got angry at him after the first time this happened, understanding that this unfortunately came with the territory.
When he saw me walk into the room, his face fell a little in sadness but it was also mixed with the happiness I knew he felt when he saw me.
Once again, pinch me because I must be dreaming.
He quite literally pushed the girls off of him and with those long legs of his, sauntered over to me.
"Mia amore," he cooed, one arm around my waist and his lips against mine. "You good?"
"Yeah," I smiled weakly. "Great show, as usual," I patted my hand on his chest and stepped back from him a little. I was feeling self conscious in front of those groupies wishing death upon me from across the room. It was honestly my life these days, receiving death glares from groupies that is. Lucky Dami was worth it.
"Thanks," he replied half heartedly. "Hey..." he grabbed my chin with his calloused fingers and forced me to look up at him. "I heard about what those sluts were saying in the crowd."
My heart sank. I just wanted to forget about it, I wasn't planning on telling him. "Baby, they're fucking jealous whores...don't listen to a goddamn word they say! Stupide puttane!"
He often rambled off in Italian at the end of his sentences. I had no idea what he was saying half the time (country born English girl over here), but I would pick out random words he would often say like 'fanculo'.
"How can I not Damiano?" I wanted to cry again. "They make me feel like an insignificant piece of shit on the ground," I didn't want to look at him so focused my eye line on his boots. "I'm not good enough to be your girlfriend." I stepped back still avoiding his heavy gaze.
"Wait...get back here," Damiano's hand grasped my forearm and he pulled me back into him, his smell of cologne, cigarettes, alcohol and sweat comforting me in a strange way. "I don't want to hear you say that ever again, bella," he scolded me. "I thought that you were stronger than to let those random girls' words affect you!"
I looked up at him again, his eyeliner clad eyes looking tired and high, and his jet black hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. He was a God to me. His eyes were sharp and looked like they could cut me right in half. I knew that he was genuinely hurt that I thought those things about myself, him.
We didn't speak for a few passing moments until Damiano's eyes moved off mine. "Follow me."
Our sweaty hands linked, he dragged me through the dressing room and out to a hallway that led back to the main part of the venue.
"Dami, what are you doing?" I nearly stumbled over my own feet because of how fast he was walking; my legs not quite as long as his.
"Proving to you that you are good enough, fuck, far too good for me," he spoke matter-of-factly. "And proving to these sluts that you are mine."
The hallway was pretty dark, pretty dirty and actually, a pretty good place for a quick fuck.
"Damiano," I laughed, my voice-box vibrating his lips that were attached to my neck right after he'd pushed me against the wall. "People will see us."
"That's the whole point bella." His raspy voice crawled through my veins like a disease taking over and fuck, I was so ready to be consumed by it.
He continued to kiss down my neck until he reached the top of my breasts that were still nearly pouring out of my tank. "Fucking gorgeous," he breathed, pulling my top down with both hands while sucking one of my nipples in his hot mouth and toying with the other between his rough thumb and forefinger.
It was obviously still loud and my moans simply fell into the air mixing with all of the other voices and music. My tits were out and Damiano was worshipping them and I kind of hoped those bitches walked around the corner. I knew that was Damiano's idea.
"Fuck those groupies and their small tits," it was like he was reading my mind. "You know how much of a tit guy I am anyway," he winked at me kissing me quickly then sucking in my other nipple.
"Gimme more Dami," I begged, my hands tangling in his long, dark hair, pulling strands when it felt particularly good.
"Don't need to ask me twice baby."
I was in such a blissful haze that I hadn't even noticed him undo my jeans until he started to pull them down my thighs. "Dami, I swear," I warned him. Knowing it was more of an empty threat than not, he watched me cheekily as he pulled my jeans further down, followed by my skimpy black lace panties.
Running two fingers along my pussy, he collected some wetness and brought those two fingers to his mouth, licking them clean and not breaking eye contact with me the entire time. His eyes were nearly black from being dilated with lust or coke but probably a mix of the both.
My body felt electric at the sight.
"Just fuck me already, rockstar," I begged.
He needed no further encouragement, unbuckling his belt and pulling his hard, angry cock out of his tight, black leather pants. He wore them better than anybody I'd ever seen in my entire life; I was dripping.
He teased me for a second, running the tip of his dick along my entrance. He had one of my legs hitched up to his side but not around his waist since my jeans were still around my shins.
"Please Dami, just fuck me hard!" I pleaded with him desperately after a few more moments of his endless teasing. His eyes narrowed as he steadied his sight on me again and I held my breath, knowing exactly what he was going to do.
The second hand cigarette smoke that hazed around us and the deafening sounds of whatever band was playing now, not to mention the singing, talking and screaming of the crowd made for a pretty hot moment; we could be sprung at any second and it was turning me on like mad.
I gasped as Damiano pushed himself into me. His cock that was as hard as a rock piercing through me and nearly making me cum just like that. It wasn't just the way that Damiano used his dick, or even how big it was. It was the way he carried himself, his persona, his confidence, his sexiness mixed with his gorgeous dick that would bring me to the edge every time.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing him closer to me. He had one hand holding my leg up and the other pressed against the wall behind me. His head was hanging, focusing on watching him slip in and out of me again and again.
One thing Damiano loved was watching himself fuck me. He had a huge mirror on the wall at the end of his bed just for this reason.
Every single nerve ending in my body was alight as his cock slid against them. Damiano lifted his head, placing his lips along my neck sucking on it aggressively, his dick moving in and out of me at an electrifying pace. I shut my eyes, crying out at how fucking good he was making me feel. It astounded me how I could be so sad only an hour ago and now Damiano had me on top of the world.
"Keep going," I encouraged my boyfriend. Hah, like he needed it.
"I'm never stopping baby," he breathed, leaning forward and giving me a kiss. His tongue wrapped itself around mine almost moving in sync with his hips.
I felt myself getting closer as Damiano's cock kept hitting my g-spot. "Fuck, fuck, yeah Dami," I moaned, opening my eyes at the last second and I wanted to jump with joy.
Walking into the hall where we were, were the girls talking shit about me. The two of them just stopped, stood still like they'd been glued to the spot. I saw one mouth 'oh my god' and the other just kept watching, probably staring at Damiano's insane ass.
I did the only thing I could think of doing in that moment and let me tell you there wasn't much room for thinking with how Damiano had me nearly cumming.
I made eye contact with one whose eyes weren't glued to Damiano, poked my tongue out and stuck my finger up.
Fuck them, I'm beautiful.



















