Warnings: maybe some cursing? that should be a given by now lol
Word count: 1160 words
A/N: I still have some requests, and I promise I'm working on them! Sometimes I get inspiration for something, and I need to write it as soon as possible bc that's how I work :) also this is very self indulgent whoops
Nothing seemed to be going right for Y/N today.
It was like she couldn’t catch a fucking break. She woke up late for work, which only made her frazzled and stressed. She prided herself on being a punctual person, and she has always hated being late. She luckily made it to work only a few minutes late, but it still put her in a bad mood for the rest of the day.
In her haste of getting out the door, she forgot to bring her lunch to work. It was just some old leftovers her roommate, Damiano, had saved for her, but she didn’t have anything else to eat. She had enough money to grab herself a snack, but it wasn’t nearly enough to last her through the day.
And if after all that she thought there would be nothing that could make matters worse, there was a thunderstorm in the forecast for tonight. Y/N was terrified of thunderstorms. Usually, if the storm wasn’t too severe, and she wasn’t alone, it’s not too bad for her. But she knew Damiano wasn’t going to be home. He had band rehearsal and was planning on staying at one of his bandmates’ houses since they’d be up late. And this storm was supposed to be violent.
Just as Y/N was getting out of her car to head up to the apartment, the storm set in and it was pouring. And, of course, she left her umbrella in the apartment. Just my fucking luck today.
As she walked through the door, rain dripping off of her, she rested her forehead back against the door, groaning out her frustrations about the day as loud as she could.
“Uh – Y/N?” Y/N jumped, shocked with the voice being carried from the living room. She thought for sure it was the night Damiano was going to rehearsal, but maybe he was just going later than anticipated.
“What are you still doing here? I thought you’d be long gone for rehearsal by now.” Y/N entered the living room to see Damiano sitting on the couch. He was in his pajamas, and he certainly didn’t look like he was heading anywhere soon.
“I cancelled the rehearsal. I didn’t think it’d be safe to drive in the storm.” He shrugged and added, “And I also know you don’t like to be alone during thunderstorms, so I figured I’d stay here with you.” Y/N didn’t want to cry, but she felt the tears brimming at her eyes. And Y/N was never good at holding tears back. Bringing her hands up against her face to hide her crying, Damiano worriedly asked, “Oh my god, what’s wrong?”
“It’s just – it was such a bad day, Damiano. I woke up late which put me in a terrible mood. And because I was rushing I forgot my lunch and barely ate anything. And then I thought I’d be alone during the storm, but you’re here. It just means so much to me that you’d do that, and it’s making me very emotional.” Damiano pouted his lips at her, upset that she had a terrible day.
“Oh, baby, come here.” He patted the space on the couch next to him and opened his arms for her. Y/N immediately melted into not only the couch from being exhausted, but also his open arms. She pressed her face into the crook of his neck as the more tears escaped from her, and Damiano was soothingly running his hand up and down her back. His other arm was wrapped tightly around her with the sounds of the brutal storm rumbling through the apartment.
Even after Y/N had calmed down and was just resting against Damiano, he still held her tight against him. She didn’t know how he knew to start scratching lightly at her scalp, but he still did it. She doesn’t think she ever mentioned it, but it always calmed her down and made her happy when someone else did it to her.
“You’re an angel, Damiano.” Y/N mumbled into his neck, a chuckle coming from him that shook her slightly.
“Anything for you, Y/N.”
---
Y/N awoke a few hours later, groggy and confused. She must have fallen asleep on Damiano, and it seemed like he was asleep as well from the soft snores she heard. Their positions had shifted, so instead of sitting up, they were now laying down along the couch with Y/N just laying right on top of him. She lifted her head from his chest and squinted her eyes in the dark room to see he definitely was asleep, and he looked beautiful. Y/N always thought Damiano was attractive (how could anyone not?), but right now he looks perfect. If she could take a picture of him now, face calm and peaceful with his mouth slightly open, she would.
As much as she didn’t want this moment to end, she knew they both needed to get some sleep in their own beds. She tried shaking him slightly, but he wouldn’t budge.
“Damiano, wake up.” After she repeated that a few times, it seemed to do the trick. He groaned, pulling her tighter against him.
“What?” He sighed, shuffling a bit. “I don’t want to move. You’re warm.”
“Don’t you want to sleep in your own bed though?” She asked, lifting her head up to look at him. She didn’t realize how close they were until right now, with only a few inches separating their faces.
“I want to stay here with you.” He shook his head, and their noses bumped against each other, causing Y/N to giggle. “Unless you want to move.”
“I’m fine, I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable with me laying on you like this.” Y/N was starting to get a little flushed from being so close to Damiano like this. She couldn’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to kiss him.
“Don’t worry, I like you like this. I wouldn’t want anybody else like this except you, baby.” Y/N couldn’t believe he said that. Damiano brought his face closer, just enough that there were only a few centimeters between their lips with their foreheads touching. “Can I kiss you?”
All it took was a slight nod from Y/N before Damiano softly pressed his lips against hers. Their lips fit together perfectly like puzzle pieces. He parted from her to take a breath, just to immediately kiss her again. Y/N felt the room spinning just from his kiss.
After they parted again, Damiano breathed out, “As much as I’d like to continue this, I’m dead tired, baby. Let’s go to sleep.” He sat up, guiding her to his room. Y/N collapsed on her side in his bed, and Damiano curled his body around hers. He whispered in her ear, “This will be continued, just so you know.”
Authors' note: I (oro-e-diamanti) will not be available a lot from August 2nd - August 6th so any questions should be directed at @bethanysnow :)
First concert of the tour, decisions are made. Did they make the right call? Hushed voices in the cab of a taxi, champagne flutes and old photos. Follow the feeling.
Content | Fluff
Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano
Word Count | 7475
Taglist (please add yourself to my new taglist if you haven't already!) | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitermoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @manesimp @sofckinelectric @emmawruck @daddydamiano @grumpybottom @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @ohtorchio @kanevill @messyhairday-me @shaunthesheesh @butterfly-skinnylegend@bidet-and-legolas @maybankslut @pingpongchamps @lidiyabest @killerqueen1985 @katyldamusic @ccweasley @bluscryn @fuckim-so-gay @deluxeplanteater @demoiselle-en-detresse00
***
It wasn’t the first time that waking up the people she worked for was an important point on Y/n’s daily schedule. She didn’t mind if they took forever to wake up or demanded she never arrive without some sort of caffeine in her hands or if they ordered her to leave the room again immediately. She had dealt with all sorts of people in the morning. However, none of them had looked quite as attractive as this whole band constantly seemed to.
Victoria had been easy, fresh and up on her feet the second Y/n had knocked on the door. She was bouncing with excitement of the tour finally starting, effectively putting a smile on Y/n’s face. Thomas, pointedly ignoring everything going on in the shared room, was much more difficult. Y/n would have opted for a softer option. But Vic roughly jumped on his bed, throwing herself on his sleeping body and shouting at him to wake up. She didn’t stay to see the aftermath of Thomas’ annoyance, feeling like her job was done here, and slid out of the room to knock next door.
Ethan opened quickly, sparing her a tired but adorable smile, and invited her in.
“Morning, this is your wake-up call,” Y/n joked.
“I just got up anyway, but I think Damiano needs you,” Ethan murmured, before stumbling into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door behind him.
Damiano was still fully asleep and, now being alone in the room, Y/n couldn’t help but take a moment to admire the view. He was on his back, bare torso, tattoos she would love to study further if given the chance, blanket carelessly swung over one leg. She could see his black underwear clearly as well as- oh. She couldn’t tear her gaze away, as much as she tried. He was hard. Okay, so this shouldn’t have shaken her up quite this much, it surely wasn’t the first time and won't be the last when something like this happened, but oh dear god, that image wasn’t going to leave her brain anytime soon. At least not when it was him.
Desperately trying to ignore the state of his underwear, Y/n reached for his shoulder, feeling like this was the safest spot for her to touch, shaking him slightly and calling his name.
“Damiano - time to get up.”
His eyes fluttered open, blinking in confusion, quite obviously unaware of where he was or what was happening. Then he focused in on the eyes above him, a blissful smile spreading on his face. Ethan had come back from the bathroom, flicking on the overhead light, probably looking for clothes. Damiano’s eyes widened.
“I didn’t know you had a halo, Y/n…” His hand reached up to move a stray hair from her face.
“I don’t. But you need to get up. Concert today, remember?”
Damiano still looked confused, but started moving, slowly sitting up and then going back to watching her.
“Just wake me up like this every day, angel,” he whispered, drunk on sleep, getting up and trying to wrap his arms around her. In the background, she could hear Ethan laughing to himself and she briefly wished for his help instead of his amusement. Y/n tried to move her body away, still acutely aware of Damiano… well, having a little problem south of the border, but the singer himself didn’t take any notice. He relentlessly chased her warmth, finally managing to pull her into a hug, as she desperately tried to keep it short. She only let her chest collide with his briefly, keeping her distance from his lower body.
“Stop being so uncomfortable,” Damiano mumbled, and finally, finally, Ethan came to her rescue.
“For god’s sake Damiano, let go of the poor girl, you’ve got a massive boner.”
That was all it took for him to release her, completely awake now, eyes widening. Without another word, he pushed past her and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself with a loud bang.
“You okay?” Ethan quietly asked Y/n. She nodded, her face almost as red as their bus.
“It’s fine. Not the weirdest thing to happen but, you know… Um. We are meeting at the back lot in a bit. I’ll see you there?”
Ethan nodded, leaving her to vanish from the room in a heartbeat.
***
Y/n went over the list on her phone once more. Fruit - check. Coffee - check. Toast - check. Some other breakfast and lunch staples to keep in stock on the bus - check. Food and treats for Chili - double check.
“What’s all this food for? An army?” The clerk asked, scanning her groceries at high speed. Y/n simply chuckled, mentioning something about roommates, not keen on elaborating further. Another smile and she was back on her way to the bus. She was still in the middle of unpacking everything, tripping over bags left in the corridor, on seats and counters, and loudly playing The Strokes’ Last Night on her phone, when the band started filing into the bus. She quickly put up a little magnet with the Stockholm skyline that she had picked up at the store onto the fridge.
Victoria was the first to step on, immediately dropping Chili from her arms and letting her roam and explore the bus. Ethan and Thomas followed suit, all of them happily greeting her. Only Damiano stayed quiet, shuffling behind them as if there was any way he could hide, staring at his feet, a slight blush still painted on his cheeks. He felt horribly awkward. The scene from earlier would not leave his mind, however hard he tried. The more I try to impress her, the more I look like a fool, he grumbled to himself.
“You made breakfast?!” Vic called, much too loud, considering everyone was gathered in the same area. She picked up some berries, popping them in her mouth one by one, while Thomas grabbed a plate of scrambled eggs. Ethan started buttering a toast, but paused when he realised Damiano was still awkwardly lingering in the back.
“Fruit for you?” Ethan asked and Damiano regretted nodding absentmindedly the second Ethan handed him a banana, eyebrows wriggling.
“Fucking dick,” he shot back, but took the offending item, if only to hide the interaction from Y/n.
“It’s nothing much, just had some extra time before you got here.” Y/n smiled from where she was crouched on the floor, still filling the shelfs with groceries. “Make yourselves at home, I just need to finish putting this stuff away, so it’ll be out of your way. Shouldn’t take too long.”
Damiano moved some bags away, taking a seat. It was like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to watch her or not. He could sense she was feeling awkward, yet had no idea how to alleviate the situation. He was making this unnecessarily difficult and he hated himself for it.
“Hi Chili,” she cooed as the fluffy dog climbed into her lap, demanding pats. “And who’s been a good girl for her mummy, hmm? Hm?”
The voice in Damiano’s head softened as he watched Y/n play with Chili. She was adorable. Y/n, that was. He scolded himself for wishing he was Chili.
“Right, I’m going to choose a bunk and unpack a bit, don’t be mad if I get the best one and you’re all left with the rubbish ones,” Damiano joked, still feeling awkward and knowing he wasn’t being half as funny as he wished he was. There were several shouts back at him as he walked through to the bunks, throwing his stuff on one, but he ignored all of them. Nothing on his mind but how Y/n had finally caught his eye as he had gotten up. Looking at him shily and with uncertainty and, oh, how he wanted this awkwardness between them to go away.
“Take Chili out for a walk when you’re done!” Victoria shouted after him and soon enough he could hear little paws jumping up to the singer. He picked the little dog up, holding her to his chest.
“You don’t care how dumb I’m being, Chili,” he murmured. “You just care about treats and snuggles.”
***
“So, did you guys get a good night’s sleep?” Y/n asked as she heard Damiano leave the bus with Chili.
“I would have if I hadn’t been attacked!” Thomas fell into a seat, dramatically looking at Vic who was obviously the reason for his complaints.
“Well it’s not my fault that someone decided to stay up until 3 am.”
“I did no such thing! I went to bed when everyone else did.”
Victoria raised her brow at her friend’s retort. He simply shrugged and made a face.
“So what about cleaning up, huh? Can’t let Y/n do all the work,” Ethan interrupted their little quarrel. His bandmates stopped their bantering, looked at the amount of work left in, looked at Y/n, and started to help.
Y/n stood back up off the floor, an inquiring look on her face. Suddenly being helped with a task wasn’t normally a thing that had happened with previous clients. It was a nice change. She quickly directed everyone as to where things went.
“She… she got my favourite snacks!”
“She put my stuff in the crates and organised it already. She even got a coffee pot.”
“There’s Italian spices in the cupboard. And everything else we need for a good plate of pasta!”
Y/n slightly smiled to herself, happy that she had managed to get everything they needed and a bit on top. Music was still pouring out of her phone, but the song had long changed. Rebel Rebel by David Bowie was currently playing, as she moved around the bus, moving her hips to the beat and mouthing along to the words, as the other three watched.
“You know, maybe we do have to take you dancing some time, Y/n, you’re surely into all the right music,” Victoria laughed as Y/n continued cleaning the kitchen area.
“I might just stay at the sidelines and make sure none of you die. My dancing doesn’t really need to be anywhere but the walls of my own flat.”
“Just a drink or two and we’ll get you on the dancefloor, I’m sure,” Ethan smirked. Y/n turned around to raise her eyebrows at him.
“You truly want to bring out the worst in me on this tour, don’t you?”
Y/n took one last look around, happy with the work she and the band had done, briefly wondering how long it would stay this tidy for, but immediately pushing the thought away. That would be a problem for another day. She let herself fall onto the couch next to Thomas.
“So, first gig today.” Y/n slipped back into work mode easily. “Anything else I need to prepare for you? Any special requests or anything?”
“I think most of it is on our rider, isn’t it?” Victoria thought out loud. “So, just the usual stuff.”
“Yeah, no worries, I got that here,” Y/n threw in, immediately going for her ever-present folder, looking for the right page. They had provided her with a general rider for all shows, just simple stuff they requested to be there, water, a couple of beers, towels, cigarettes, nothing extraordinary.
“I do have… um something I wanted to ask.”
Y/n looked up at Thomas, highly aware the two of them had barely exchanged words since tour started. She mainly put it down to his shy nature, combined with the fact that they all mostly spoke English with each other and she knew he was still in the process of learning, she didn’t take it personally.
“Always,” she smiled, trying to be as welcoming as possible.
“I was just thinking, this is our first big European tour-”
In the background, Vic shouted “tou eurovean!” in the most obnoxious way, obviously trying to rile Ethan up who only smiled to himself and shook his head, having long stopped being bothered by his bandmates mocking his accent.
“-and you’re really good with languages and all that, do you think you could teach us a bit for every place? So we can say, like, “hello”, “thank you” and so on when we meet fans?”
Y/n heart surely grew two sizes as she listened to Thomas’ request. She knew she was going to have a good time working with them from the beginning, but seeing just how much they cared and how much they seemed to love their fans, she couldn’t help but fall in love with these people. It wasn’t something she had found often in the business, and she appreciated it immensely.
“Well, that’s definitely something I can help with - just not sure if I can help today, I don’t exactly speak Swedish.”
“I’m half Danish, you doofus,” Vic suddenly exclaimed. “Why didn’t you ask me?”
“Huh?” Thomas’ face was marked with confusion.
“It’s super close in terms of language. I’ll just quickly google something and I can help you.”
“Oh, right,” Thomas smiled bashfully, but obviously eager to learn.
Y/N chuckled. Always happy to lend her services to those who wanna learn. But with the last things put away she turned to the group.
Everyone quickly gathered to have a look at what Victoria was pulling up her phone, Ethan with a serious, studious expression on his face, while Thomas seemed to be confused enough to regret having asked about Swedish at all.
“Right, so let’s look at some easy ones,” Y/n said, urging Victoria to scroll away from the long sentences she was currently looking at. “What do we need, something like ‘hi’, ‘I love you’, ‘thank you’, ‘bye’?”
One by one, the foursome went over the words, always guided by Victoria, who had the best feeling for the language due to her own familial ties. The bus was filled with sounds of “hej” and “tack” and “hejdå” and Thomas didn’t take long until he gave up on “Jag älskar dig” altogether, concluding he would simply not tell anyone he loved them tonight.
The music paused and was replaced with a ring. Y/N looked and gave a nod to Victoria to continue without her, stepping outside.
“Heeey, Y/n!” Her best friend’s voice echoed through the phone.
“Hey babe, how are you? How’s home?”
“It’s good here, your mum is driving everyone crazy as usual. Worried you’re gonna get picked up some place,” she coughed, ready to imitate Y/n’s mother and her northern accent, “‘good girls like our Y/n need to watch out! God protect her!’ Haha! I love your mum; I really do, but she’s a bit much!”
“I know, I should probably call her. Work has been busy. We just started the tour, so things are picking up.”
“Ooh yes! Tell me about it! Who is your newest client? You said something about Eurovision, is it Blind Channel? Please let it be Blind Channel.”
“Nope, sorry, as much as you may wish they are not. They’re called Måneskin?”
“Wait, I’m on my laptop, I’ll look them up. Hold on… Oh. My God. They are hot as fuck?! Are you fucking kidding me you didn’t tell me they were hot!”
“No, I didn’t. Because I was expecting exactly this kind of loss of hearing from your screaming,” Y/n said, slightly pulling the phone away from her ear. “And before you ask, yes, all of them are lovely, all of them treat me quite well, no ‘rockstar’ attitudes.”
“Good. I don’t need to fly to Rome and steal you away, do I?”
“No, mainly because we are in Sweden right now. But even if you did, my place in Rome is a tiny thing, could barely fit in the sofa.”
“Mate, you need to send me pictures of you with them!”
“You do realise they are my bosses, yes? Like, the manager which they hired signs my paychecks. Not gonna happen babe.”
“But they’re so pretty! Wait, which one is the pretty boy in the mesh top?”
“I assume he has short hair and buzzed sides? In that case, it’s Damiano, he’s the singer.”
“Ah, pretty boy has a name! You like pretty boy?” Y/n groaned at the teasing of her best friend. She loved her to pieces but the obsession with hooking her up with someone was too much sometimes.
“Fuck off, I don’t. Maybe as a person. I don’t really talk to them all that much. Again - me, assistant, getting them coffee in the morning, paid to stay out of their way.”
“Well, I know something you could assist him with.” Y/n could basically hear her friend wink at her through the phone.
“Right, you wish!” She laughed. “Well, I gotta run. Work is never done and all that. Text me, ya?”
“You know I will, babes. Be safe out there. I will try and satiate your mum a bit. Tell her you’re alright. Love you.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
Y/n hung up the phone and put it in her back pocket, coming back down to earth after having a little sunray from home. She had worked so hard to get here - she couldn’t let things get in the way now. Damiano was an amazing person. Attentive, abstract, complex. All the things she typically looked for in a person to combat her type A brain. But this was work. And being friends wasn’t so bad. Right? Surely. She made the decision for herself to have a work-based relationship with him. Friends, if she was lucky. If she was good enough.
Even if everything about him was air-suckingly beautiful.
Friends, she told herself. Friends will be good enough.
***
Damiano left the bus with Chili, lighting up a cigarette as soon as he got outside and walking around the backlot. His mind drifted to past interactions with Y/n, the way she did things, the way she spoke to people with the utmost kindness and respect.
It was hard in his position. There had been and would always be many people trying to take advantage of the band, take advantage of him. Fame was a fickle and toxic thing, but it had gotten them where they were now. He tried not to think about it. In all honesty, people scared Damiano. People’s intentions. What they said when he wasn’t around. Not that the latter bothered him much, it was more the idea of him existing in so many different ways to so many people, none of them being the true him. Just another version. A version of himself that was false most of the time. He wasn’t some crazy rockstar. No big ego. No stage persona. Just Damiano.
He hoped she would see behind the facade. But the band seemed to like her. And he trusted them, and their judgement, explicitly.
Yet, they had worked so hard to get here - he couldn’t let things get in the way now. Even if Y/n could promise to be something amazing. Some spark, some magical thing. Maybe? He couldn’t put his finger on it, whatever it was. He vividly remembered the first day at that restaurant. No one would think to collect the dishes to make the wait staff’s job easier. But she did. He assumed she did everytime she went out somewhere.
But music, the band, it was his life. His greatest ambition. A new person could only bring disruption.
But what if it was for the better? The thought made Damiano stop in his tracks, the phrase replaying in his mind over and over again. Chili seemed happy to rest for a moment, flopping down near his feet. Damiano’s gaze fell on the tour bus. Was she for the better? He didn’t know. But his heart started to beat quicker at the thought of her. Palms getting sweaty. A fluttering feeling that would not go away.
She wasn’t going away. Maybe he should risk it, make a decision. Follow this fluttery feeling and see where it would take him.
Exhaling smoke and resting the cigarette between his lips, he suddenly knew what he was going to do.
***
Arriving at the venue was potentially the most chaotic thing Y/n had ever been part of. People, both from their own crew as well as that of the place itself, were bustling around like ants, carrying equipment, moving things around, just about managing not to bump into each other. Her best bet was to get out of the way, find the band's backstage room to check if they had everything they needed and further coordinate from there. It didn't take long, a flight of stairs up and a turn left, until she found the door displaying the logo of the band, proclaiming it to be their dressing room. She took stock of the amenities, finding everything to be in perfect order, and let herself drop onto a couch.
The actual gigs involved the least of her work on tour but she couldn’t help micromanage just a little bit, just to make sure the band was as comfortable as possible. It was less of a job duty and more of a personality trait at this point.
The door opened to five racks being pushed into the room, all with dress bags and compartments filled with shoes and the odd accessory that Y/n couldn’t make any sense of. The racks were labeled with each of their names, the last one simply stating the name of the band. She assumed it would contain mostly things to be shared between them.
Y/n stood flicking through the clothes, curiosity getting the better of her. Did they buy all of this themselves? How could they possibly afford this? She thought with a raised brow as her eyes flickered over the tags proclaiming luxury brands.
She didn’t stay alone for too long. One thing about the band was always knowing where they were - simply from the volume which accompanied their every move. Coming down the hallway towards her she could hear a badly made chorus of shouting and song. Victoria was on Damiano’s back, the singer running into the greenroom at full speed. Thomas was holding Chili, following Ethan into the room
“Oh my god, are those our clothes? Vic clumsily jumped off Damiano, almost taking him down with her. She immediately began shuffling through the pieces, making Y/n wince at how careless she seemed to be. “I can’t believe how much Gucci they sent us for this tour. I’m so glad we don’t have to buy our own stage clothes anymore, the mismatching outfits gave me a headache.”
Y/n sat back down on the couch with Chili curling up in her lap, Damiano dropping down next to her, obviously adamant about forgetting this morning’s awkwardness. Both watched as Victoria kept pulling things off the racks, holding them up while making appreciative noises or holding them up to Ethan and Thomas to judge how they would fit.
“Any idea what you’re wearing tonight, then?” Y/n asked.
“Gotta be perfect,” Vic mumbled, having drawn her two bandmates into looking through their options as well. “It’s the first night, after all. Oh I know! We should do a little fashion show for Y/n!”
It only took a minute before clothes started flying, Vic distributing shirts and trousers and blouses to the rest of the band while hanging aside a few things for herself, ordering everyone to get on with it and strip. Y/n gulped. A fashion show - yes, okay. But watching the preparations? No one had trained her for that.
Apparently, she was the only one with those kinds of thoughts, as she watched Ethan unbutton his shirt without hesitation, Thomas already pulling down his skinny jeans. Y/n found herself hiding partially behind her hands as everyone started to go bare. But her eyes did far more looking than she intended. Ethan’s body was lean and tall, as well as very close to her face. There was a constant internal push and pull between being modest enough to walk away and not being able to stop herself from catching glimpses. She tried to move away slightly, without anyone noticing, shuffling to the far end of the couch, only to get a full view of Victoria’s bare chest.
Oh god, oh god, oh god, what is happening. I mean… wow. But Jesus Christ! There really is no rest for the wicked and I am royally fucked! Her eyes turned to Damiano who now sat next to her, shirtless. Okay, I can do shirtless. I’ve seen him shirtless before. That’s normal. Oh crap, he looked at me - shit!
Y/n tried to give him a smile, a normal smile, an appropriate smile but her eyes wandered down to his chest tattoos and when they snapped back up, he was still looking at her, now with a smirk on his face that let her know he knew. Her face turned an even darker shade of red. A pair of pants sailing past her briefly caught her attention, eyes instinctively following the movement only to be face-to-face with Thomas in nothing but his white very see-through underwear.
Okay, she had known they were all attractive before she had taken the job but the photos online were nothing compared to this, to the way they moved around her so confidently and shamelessly and- oh dear, now Ethan was also down to his underwear, bulge easily visible - she closed her eyes, hands covering them. This was entirely too much for one day. Damiano this morning had shaken her up enough, now everyone else showing off more or less on purpose as well had her head spinning.
“Aw, cucciola, are you embarrassed? Or shy?” Damiano grinned at Y/n, trying to pull her hands from her face.
“Damiano, you are supposed to be picking outfits, not picking on me,” she retorted, causing the band to have a wave of joy, and now a target. Y/n kept struggling, but Damiano now had a firm grasp on her hands, effectively keeping her from hiding any more. Her face was horribly red and Damiano’s eyes had a playful glint, obviously amused at seeing the stoic Y/n get flustered.
“Come on, there’s nothing to it, just a bit of skin,” he smirked.
“You know,” Vic threw in and Y/n couldn’t help but notice she was still topless, “maybe you should join in, maybe you’d feel more comfortable that way.”
“Erm, nope, thank you - uh, very much, but I’m fine right here.”
She looked around just in time for Thomas to turn around and teasingly pull down the waistband of his underwear, showing off the slightest bit of hit butt, while cackling maniacally. Victoria didn’t hesitate in slapping it harshly. Y/n turned back to Damiano, unsure where to look or what to do.
“You liking the show?” He asked as he got up, grabbing some clothes that were being handed to him. Y/n sent him a glare that read fuck off but his smile only got bigger.
“Let her be. I know I wouldn’t know what to do if people I found attractive started stripping in front of me,” Ethan said, giving an amused look to Y/n. She almost wanted to thank him before it sank in that he was still teasing her as well, just in a far more witty and sarcastic way than the rest of them.
“I do not! I mean- no, wait yes, aesthetically you are all very nice.”
“Aw, she said we’re nice,” Vic laughed and Y/n was glad to finally see some more clothes on her frame. The bassist walked over, scooping Chili up into her arms and Y/n felt even more lost than before, not even the dog being there to fuss over.
Her eyes found Damiano again. She suddenly decided that stripping might be overrated - the way he dressed, the way he buttoned his shirt up in the most delicate way, sending her little smiles in between, was the most mesmerising thing she had ever seen. He briefly turned his back to her to grab and pull up a pair of trousers, Y/n watching his every move, following the piece of fabric up over his legs and his delicate arse with her eyes.
Wait, I did not just call his arse delicate in my mind did I? Oh dear, I’m so far gone.
As if knowing Y/n had been watching - and he probably did - he gave a little wiggle, very aware of where exactly her glance was resting.
Aw fuck.
“Now, let’s stop teasing Y/n,” Damiano said, but his voice still held a laugh. He grabbed onto her hands once again, this time pulling her up to his height and into a soft hug. “No need to scare away the new assistant straight away.”
Y/n tried to think straight, to remember what normal people would behave like in this situation, and she figured it was probably not to stand in his arms stiff as a board with her own arms awkwardly trapped between them. She patted his chest quickly like there, there. Damiano took this differently. Grabbing her hand that rested on his pec, he bowed, kissing her knuckles. The rest of the band cheered in between laughs.
Y/n awkwardly pulled away, uncomfortable with all the attention on her. Her eyes darted to the other three, who had finally put on some clothes, Victoria now giving her a wink. Ethan laughed at seeing Y/n’s still reddened face, quickly taking a step towards her as she turned towards him and putting a soft kiss on her hair.
“No need to feel uncomfortable, love,” he smiled and she would be lying if he didn’t succeed in calming her down just from his entire aura.
“Unless you enjoy it, of course,” Damiano, pulling her back to his chest for another quick hug, either completely oblivious to her slight discomfort - although, who could ever feel uncomfortable in Damiano’s arms, really? - or just beyond caring. His torso felt strong and protective against her, but she quickly got a grip and softly wrestled out of the embrace.
“Okay, enough teasing, I really need to go back to work,” she sighed, looking at all of them individually for a moment to make sure they had heard. Her eyes lingered on Damiano just that little bit longer.
***
The group had settled down after their little game of pin the blush on the Y/n. Thomas had gone out for a smoke break and Victoria stood in front of the mirror, messing with her hair. Chili yapped happily, watching her mom, who kept throwing a little toy through the room absentmindedly, just for the little fur ball to return it immediately. Y/n was focused on something on her phone, busy as usual. Ethan sat next to Damiano in the corner of the room by the window.
“Hey, um, remember the letter I showed you on the plane?” Y/n walked up to Damiano, phone still in hand and intently focused on the screen. “The old Italian one and we talked about how I wasn’t sure if I had translated that one weird sentence correctly because you were convinced it was something else?”
Damiano nodded, a small smile spreading on his lips as he recalled their flight together, how excited she got about her work, how willing she was to let him be part of it even if he barely understood what she was talking about.
“Of course, I do. Why?”
“Well,” she gloated, “my professor got back to me and I was right! She said my analysis was spot on and I’d go far if I kept working like this.”
“Aw good girl, you’re doing such a good job.”
Y/n seemed to freeze in place at Victoria’s words. Her face glowed with pride, a smile so big it easily reached her eyes. Ethan and Damiano both watched as Y/n turned towards Victoria, only to see the woman talking to her dog who had once again brought her toy back to her. The air around her cracked a little and Y/n nodded, more to herself than anyone in particular, before going back to her place on the couch. Ethan leaned over to Damiano.
“Was that just me or did Y/n really light up thinking Vic was talking to her?” Ethan whispered.
Damiano would be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed. The image was imprinted in his mind. Was she so starved for compliments or… was this a hint at a kink? His fantasy was faster than the rational part of his brain, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about it. Complimenting her just to see her face light up again. Finding all the little pet names she’d appreciate. Praising her when she was lying under him… He shook his head to get rid of the idea. He could do compliments, though, for starters.
“No, just me?”
Damiano had fully forgotten about Ethan next to him. The drummer was now mustering him with a questioning look on his face.
“I think she’s just very proud of her work, who wouldn’t like to get complimented on that?” He quickly deflected. This new revelation was something he would have to try out himself. And definitely one he’d keep to himself.
***
There was absolutely no way to describe what Måneskin were doing on stage apart from absolutely and entirely fascinating. Y/n had never had the pleasure of seeing them perform before joining them on tour, so she had made sure to get everything done that needed to be done and hide next to the stage to witness the opening night. It didn’t disappoint. But what drew her in more than the songs itself, more than the musical talents they all possessed, more than the outfits and the lights, was the way they looked at each other, laughed at each other, how clearly they all loved each other and what they were doing. This is what made it worth it. The weirdness of this morning long forgotten. Seeing people do what they were born to do was captivating in it's own right, but the people in front of her were more than just born to be musicians. They were electric.
Then there was Damiano himself, incredibly charismatic, drawing the whole audience in without even trying. It was impossible to take your eyes off him. It didn’t help that he kept looking over and giving her rather non-conspicuous winks, especially during I Wanna Be Your Slave. She was glad to be hidden from the view of the audience. She really didn’t need that kind of attention.
The aftermath was as hectic as ever, the crew giving their best to pack up as quickly as possible, Y/n helping where she could, so everyone could leave and get back to the hotel for the night.
***
The car ride back to the hotel was one with everyone’s hearts in their throats. Victoria was talking a mile a minute about the concert. Ethan was grinning ear to ear watching the Swedish landscape go by, his hand out the window, feeling the air passing through his fingers. Thomas and Damiano had their hands out as well, cigarettes lit. Y/n sat next to them, chatting along with Vic. With a quick move, she undid her hair from the updo she had sported all day. Not bothered about what she looked like right now, the aftermath of the concert and the night crackling like fire.
Chili was on Ethan’s lap, enjoying the presence of the calmest of the bunch. Yellow hues were crashing into the van, making the space flicker from black night to noir warm glow, only being able to really see each other in small pockets of brightness from the streetlights.
Victoria was still talking excitedly, accidentally smacking Damiano’s face in her movements, dramatically moving her hands to underline what she was saying.
“Hey!”
“Scusa. Anyway! Y/n, what did you think? First time seeing us?”
“I thought it was brilliant,” she smiled, honestly. “Your bass solo was great, I’m sure everyone in the audience was ready to sign up to be a De Angelis cult member. You were all fucking amazing. I’ve seen many bands play, but none of them like you.”
***
Wow, she is beautiful with her hair down, Damiano thought, unable to stop staring at her. I think this is the most excited I’ve ever seen her.
***
“Grazie, grazie,” Vic laughed, bowing clumsily in her seat. “We really did kill it, huh?”
“You guys more than killed it, you sent it to hell and back.”
“Did you watch the whole show?” Ethan piped up.
“Did you not see her standing there the whole time, you blind eel?” Vic laughed as Ethan helplessly shrugged his shoulders.
“Probably Damiano’s fault anyway,” Thomas casually said between drags of smoke. “He kept pushing me away to make sure she was still there just to make heart eyes.”
“Did not!”
Suddenly, Y/n had never been more glad for a ride to end, already her nerves were firing up again at the conversation happening. As soon as the hotel was in sight, she unbuckled, almost out the door before the car had stopped completely. She could still hear the banter happening behind her as she stepped into the lobby. The first real day of tour had gone perfectly well, now she was looking forward to retiring to her room, look over the schedule and -
“You joining us for a little celebration in our room?” Vic threw her arm around her shoulder. “You know, first night and none of us fucked up, and that’s also thanks to you.”
“Actually-”
“Yeah, come on, Y/n. Wouldn’t be complete without you,” Ethan added and she found herself nodding. There was no way of saying no to this band, apparently. She followed them towards the elevator, highly aware of Damiano walking behind her. Highly aware of his hand on the small of her back as he led her into the elevator.
He is just being polite, her head told her. This is a tiny elevator, gosh, there are too many people in here.
Thomas was the last to enter, pushing the already close quarters to cramped. Stepping back, Y/n hit Damiano’s chest.
“Oh, sorry. Come here often?” She snickered at him, unwilling to let her nerves show.
“Not nearly enough by the looks of it,” Damiano mumbled. Ethan clocked what he said and wriggled his eyebrows at Damiano, earning himself a glare.
As soon as the elevator dinged and thus announced its arrival on the correct floor, Victoria bounced on her heels, pushing between everyone to get out first and make a run for the door. Ethan followed, shaking his head in disbelief, but not without a smile. Everyone else close behind, shuffling through the long corridor to Vic’s and Thomas’ room.
On the table was a bucket of ice and a champagne bottle, a little note telling them their congratulations from their manager, saying she would love to celebrate but sleep was calling her. Glasses stood near. Thomas didn’t hesitate in grabbing the bottle and shaking it.
“Ah, is that a good idea?” Y/n raised in concern.
“What’s wrong? Afraid of getting dirty?” Thomas smiled teasingly.
“Fine. One night won’t hurt.”
Y/n passed the glasses out to everyone. A few chuckles rang in her ears and she soon understood why - in fact, she understood the very second a loud noise echoed through the room and foaming champagne trickled down her head as Thomas aimed at everyone but himself. Victoria screeched, having gotten the worst of it, while Ethan fled into a corner and Damiano made haste to get Y/n out of the direction Thomas was pointing. She once again found herself in the singer’s arms, deciding that she was really getting more than a healthy dose of his charm today, as he tried to pat her hair dry.
“Thomas! Don’t do that to the hotel room!” Y/n shouted, already thinking about the poor cleaners and the additional pay management would have to come up with if they actually damaged anything.
Her voice of reason, however, was drowned out by Victoria turning up the music on her phone, screaming along to Morirò da re with a voice that had not been made for singing. Damiano grabbed Y/n’s hands, twirling her around before she could stop him and making her do an awkward slow dance to a song that really didn’t fit the mood. She followed along anyway, feeling herself getting more and more intoxicated by the man in front of her. As he twirled her out of his embrace, she found herself falling onto a bed, dizzy with the atmosphere in the room and thoughts of this isn’t your job, this isn’t professional, this isn’t what you usually do.
She took the glass of champagne that had finally been filled up properly without further questions as she studied the room. Vic and Thomas were jumping around, spilling more of the drink than landed in their mouths, while Ethan stood with his back to the wall, filming the two of them in amusement. Damiano sat down next to her, shuffling close on the bed that now felt way too small.
“You know, you should wear your hair down more often, it’s gorgeous,” he talked against the music, loud enough for only her to understand, and pushed a strand of hair back behind her ear.
“Thanks, I guess? It mainly just gets in the way.” Not pulling away this time, she glanced at him, taking a sip of champagne. “Your haircut looks good too, by the way. Don’t know if I said that before.”
“You know I really need to shave the sides again,” his hand trailed along the short parts of his head. “But I don’t trust our stylist to touch my hair and the others have forbidden me from doing it myself.”
“That is a fair assessment, reminds me of when I went punk for a year in secondary school. Shaved sides - patchy as hell! Looked awful, but it was fun,” she giggled, not knowing if it was the conversation or the alcohol.
“No way you were ever punk,” he giggled, moving closer, keeping the conversation between them as the others partied loudly. “You’re getting more interesting with every second I’m around you, you know?”
Cue internal screaming.
“I can show you the pictures, hold on!” Pulling out her phone, she quickly navigated to her mum’s facebook page and showed Damiano a photo. She was much younger in the picture. Black lipstick, badly smudged eyeshadow, shaved sides. Army green cargo pants, black mesh top, what looked to be her friends in the background, in some sort of dance studio.”See, I was fun at one point!”
Damiano grabbed the phone out of her hand and briefly, panic arose that he could potentially start swiping through her photos, but he simply studied the screen closely before giving it back.
“That’s adorable. But I still believe you’re much more fun now, working hard being yourself. You do a really good job, you know? I’m really glad to have you on tour with us, darling.”
After grabbing her phone back, it took a split second for her brain to process what he had said - and the realisation promptly caused her to spit out her drink.
“Shit - fuck - sorry!” She coughed as bubbles went up her nose. “One second, sorry.”
She hid behind her hand, face once again painted red, as she got up and walked to the bathroom quickly.
“Well, that was stupid.” She told herself as she looked into the mirror, seeing her tipsy eyes staring back at her.
Just friends. No… friends don’t call each other darling! Do they? He’s Italian, maybe it’s an Italian thing… Oh lord, this is going to be difficult.
As soon as she left the bathroom, she came face to face with Vic, a concerned look on the bassist’s face.
“Are you okay? You know, we’re not always this crazy, I’m sorry if-”
“No, no, you’re all perfect,” Y/n cringed at her own words. You were all perfect, why would she phrase it like that. “I just think it’s time for me to call it a night. I’ll be the one that has to get you out of bed and onto the bus tomorrow morning after all.” Giving Victoria all a small smile, she waved to the rest in the room, quickly looking at Damiano.
Summary: a late-night argument turned into a mess he couldn’t fix with a simple, ‘sorry.’
Word Count: ≈3k
Warnings: angst, some cursing, Victoria being a supportive bestie (tell me if i missed anything) *Part One in a series*
A/N: i don’t know Italian whatsoever, so any phrases that i used have a crazy chance of being wrong— that’s on me. if i did mess anything up, please tell me. Also, this isn’t really proofread 😬
———————————————————————-
The crowd was screaming. It was probably one of the loudest crowds you had seen. Your smile grew across your face and the adrenaline started kicking in. Your heart was racing. Maybe it was just nerves from performing— that’s normal, right?
You took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, calming yourself. Slowly, you moved the microphone up to your mouth, opening it to say…
——
“Damiano talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about!”
Your boyfriend had come home late, again. Of course, given the fact that he was working on another album, he was going to be stressed and he was going to come home late. That was normal, especially for the way Damiano works. But, recently, he had been distant from you, which was odd. For the three and a half years you two were together, him being distant never happened. So, when the time came, you grew concerned
“You never have anything to talk about,” you snapped back. “Everyday for weeks on end, you’re at the studio, and you come home at ungodly hours to not even acknowledge the fact that I exist. And, I know that you’re busy, but it would be nice to have my boyfriend back every once in a while!”
“You really think that?” Damiano asked, almost offended
“Yes.”
“The only reason I have to ignore you right now is because you’re being a selfish, ignorant bitch!” He yelled, storming off into your shared bedroom. You stayed in the living space, pissed off and upset at Damiano, when you heard shuffling in the room. You looked down into the hallway and saw Damiano rummaging through his drawer for some clothes.
“What are you doing?” You asked, walking closer to the bedroom.
“Sleeping in the extra bedroom. You obviously hate me right now, so I don’t want to be more of a burden to you. I’m grabbing clothes so you won’t have to see me in the morning. I’ll leave before you wake up— you won’t even know I was here,” he explained, not making any eye contact with you. He had all of his clothes in hand and some of his bathroom items, and exited the bed teem and stormed into the guest bedroom down the hall. You watched him as he did so, and when he closed the door, tears started forming in your eyes. Sighing, you walked into the room again, and closed the door behind you. You walked over to the bed and went under the covers, and started bawling. You tried not to make too much noise, since Damiano was probably trying to sleep. However, after a few minutes of sobbing and sniffling, you could hear a few whimpers from the guest bedroom— you immediately knew it was Damiano. You didn’t have the energy or forgiveness at the moment to walk in there and comfort him.
Eventually, you did end up falling asleep for quite awhile. You woke up around noon, and it was the best sleep you had gotten in a while. After eating and brushing your teeth— not even bothering to change out of your pajamas— you pulled out your phone and opened up Victoria’s contact to message her.
call me when you’re on break
ok, is everything fine?
yeah, i just need to talk :)
You closed your phone and set it down on the kitchen table, getting back to work. You were emailing your manager, since your band wanted to start recording another album. Everyone was trying to work out a start date, so they don’t plan a lot for the next upcoming months.
About an hour and a half after you texted Victoria, she called.
“Hey, Vic,” you greeted, sitting back in your chair.
“Hey, how are you?” she asked.
“I’m alright, I just had a question. But, first, is anyone around?”
“Uh, yeah, why?”
“Can you go somewhere where no one can hear our conversation?”
“Yeah, just gimme a sec,” she replied. You heard talking in the background but couldn’t make out what was being said. You heard doors opening and closing before Victoria started talking again.
“OK, I’m outside. Is everything OK?”
“Yeah, I just…” you thought about how you wanted to start this, “Damiano and I got into this argument last night, but it didn’t end… well.”
“What do you mean?” Her voice sounded concerned.
“He slept in the extra room after cursing me out. I just- I think that there’s something else he isn’t telling me. I don’t want to pull you in the middle of this, but you’re really close with him and you’re seeing him all day right now. I need to know that I’m just crazy and there’s nothing else happening.” There was a short pause between when you stopped talking and when Victoria started talking, which did not calm your nerves.
“I’ve noticed that he has been acting differently. Besides the fact that he’s Damiano and overworks himself, he seems more tired and frustrated. Which probably isn't the answer you’re looking for, but I know it isn’t from him not getting enough sleep. He does get enough sleep, right?”
“He gets enough to stay awake throughout the day,” you replied, a joking tone in your voice— though, you weren’t joking at all.
“He’s also been leaving to call you a bunch throughout the day. I don’t know why he does it in the middle of-”
“Wait, what do you mean that he’s calling me?” Victoria’s heart dropped.
“Isn’t he calling you everyday?”
“No, he barely calls unless I do. Even then, he hardly answers.” Your heart started racing.
“Oh…” and then silence. Silence followed for a good 15 seconds. You didn’t say anything, because tears started forming in your eyes again. Victoria didn’t say anything, because she didn’t know what to say.
“He wouldn’t- Damiano would never… right?”
“No, he wouldn’t. He never has. But— and I hate to say this— he’s never done anything like this before, and I can’t think of any reason as to why he would.”
“OK… that’s fine. I’ll try to ask him, I guess,” you responded quietly. Any louder and the crack in your voice would’ve been noticeable; the fact that you were silently crying would’ve been noticeable.
“Hey, I have to go, but I’ll come over tonight once we’re done here. Maybe we could talk more about this, if you want?” Victoria offered, making you smile.
“Of course, that would be amazing. OK, you go, I’ll just be here… waiting, I guess,” you chuckled, and heard another from the other end. “Alright, bye, Vic.”
“Bye!” The phone beeped, signaling that the call had ended, and you set your phone down on the table. You set your elbows on the table and put your hands in your face. You sighed, a few tears dropping down your face, and rubbed your face. There was way too much going on at once— your brain was going fifty miles a minute: your manager was still trying to email and call you, your band was trying to separately set up a start date and a get-together date, and, to top it all off, you’re having relationship issues. What a great way to spend your Wednesday afternoon.
A few hours later, at five o’clock, you heard a quick rapping at the door, and you immediately knew it was Victoria. You paused your show and got up from the couch, walking over to the front door to be greeted with a visibly sleep-deprived Victoria.
“I’m here!” She said excitedly. You smiled.
“Yeah! Come in, I was just watching TV.” You moved out of the way so she could enter the house, and you closed the door behind her, locking it.
“So… how are you?” Victoria asked, almost awkwardly as she sat down.
“I’m OK. Just tryna figure some things out,” you replied, opening up your phone to see if you got any more emails.
“With Dami?”
“Yes, and the fact that the band wants to start recording another album— we’re trying to find a date that works for all of us.” You did get another email. It was a date confirmation. “Shit,” you whispered.
“What happened?”
“Well, we got a date. I have to be in the studio by Monday.” You walked over to the couch and carefully tossed your phone on the coffee table, sitting down and leaning back on the couch.
“Oh. So, you have to leave soon?” Victoria sadly asked.
“Yeah. Probably earlier than soon. The band wants to get together beforehand, and they scheduled that for Saturday.”
“Don’t they know you're in Italy right now?”
“I might’ve told them I’m flexible.” You threw your head back on the couch. Victoria hummed in response. “I need to tell Damiano, but he doesn’t want to talk to me.”
“I’ll stay for a while, so I’ll be here when he gets home. Is that fine?” Victoria asked, wrapping her arm around you, scooting closer.
“Yeah, that’s fine. We can watch TV if you want?” You said, placing your head on her shoulder.
“Of course! What were you watching?”
“Stranger Things.”
“Oh, sounds great!”
Victoria and you watched shows for what felt like hours, screaming at the TV whenever someone did something stupid. After getting through the majority of the first season of Stranger Things, you heard the door unlocking. You looked over and saw Damiano walk in. He looked up and saw you two girls watching TV, locking eyes with you. Victoria started laughing at the show, and noticed you weren’t paying attention, so she looked to see what had caught your attention. She paused for a second before saying, “Hey, Dami.”
“Hey, Vic, Y/N,” he replied, giving them a small wave and walked over to the kitchen table. “Can I borrow your computer for something?”
“Uh, yeah, why?” You answered.
“Just to check my emails,” he said, opening the computer. “What’s the password?” You got up from the couch and went over to the table, moving the computer to face you. You glanced at Damiano a few times, heart beating like crazy. You clicked out of a couple of tabs, knowing that your battery sucks and couldn’t handle a million tabs open at once.
“There you go,” you said, moving the computer back to him. He glanced at you, mouthing a ‘thank you.’ You we’re about to walk away from him before you stopped yourself.
“I need to tell you something,” you announced, facing Damiano completely now, looking at his eyes. He looked up to you, over to Victoria, then back to you.
“Vic is here, can we not do this now?” He asked.
“I’m not gonna yell at you, Dami,” you groaned, sitting down and resting your forehead in your palms. You looked back up to him and continued with what you were trying to say.
“I’m going back home on Thursday.” Damiano quickly turned his attention back to you.
“What?” He seemed concerned or confused, you weren’t sure.
“Yeah, the band is recording another album, and I need to get there by Monday.”
“Why are you leaving so early, though?”
“Because, they have a get-together planned. We do this every time.” You responded, reminding him of the tradition.
“I know, I just didn’t know you’d be leaving. I don’t want you to leave.”
“What?” You asked, utterly baffled.
“I don’t want you to leave,” Damiano repeated.
“Bullshit.”
“Y/N-“
“No, you don’t want me to stay. Especially after that argument— especially after what you called me last night!” you snapped.
“I didn’t mean to, it was in the heat of the moment. Baby, I’m sorry.”
“You don’t get to turn around and act all innocent, Damiano,” you sternly said.
“Y/N!” He pleaded.
“Dami, I’ve been talking to Y/N,” Victoria said, jumping into the conversation. She got up from the couch and started walking over to the table.
“You pulled her into this?” He asked you.
“It wasn’t my intention, I just asked her a question. Now, we’re here.” You calmly said, not trying to escalate the situation further.
“Do I know who you’ve been calling?” She asked, resting her hands down on the table, next to you. Damiano’s heart dropped at the question.
“Uh, yeah, you do,” he hesitantly answered. Your heart was going one hundred miles a minute.
“Is it…”
“Yeah,” he sighed, resting his face in his hands— though, you suspected it was due to embarrassment.
“Who?” You asked, slightly confused.
“Y/N,” Damiano said, signaling for you to give him your hands. Gently, he placed your hands in his, giving them a small squeeze. “I’ve been talking to someone.” You squeezed his hand. It’s something you normally did when you were told something overwhelming— and this was one of those moments. You debated letting go, but decided against it; it was just talking… right?
“Who?” You repeated.
“Her name’s Giorgia. We did a photo shoot with her once. But, I promise, cara mia, we’re just friends. We are just talking.”
“Then why are you getting back home last midnight every single night?”
“I’ll drive around and call her. I’ve just been stressed with this whole album thing— I needed someone to talk to” OK… that hurt.
“What about your girlfriend, Damiano?” you raised your voice some. “I’ve spent weeks on end knowing you were stressed and waiting for you to come home so I can help, but instead you pushed me away. I thought I had done something wrong. You just weren’t talking to me. Then you lie to me?”
“Woah, I never lied to you,” he argued, sitting up in his chair.
“Last night, you told me ‘there’s nothing to talk about.’” You recalled last night's argument. He sighed in response.
“It was late, and I was tired. I didn’t want to argue, I just wanted to sleep.”
“Well, you went ahead and did so. You yelled at me, grabbed some of your things, and slept in the guest bedroom.”
“You think I wanted to?”
“Yes. Because you willingly did that. I didn’t want to not sleep with you— even if we weren’t on good terms.”
“I’m sorry.”
“‘I’m sorry’ won’t save you.” All of a sudden, your phone started ringing. You got up from the table and went over to the coffee table in the living room, picking up your phone to see who it was.
“It’s our manager. I’ve gotta take this,” you announced, heading out of the room into your bedroom (the “shared” one).
“Hi, Dianne! How are you?” You greeted, answering the phone.
“I’m doing just fine, honey! I just wanted to call and ask you a quick question. I’m trying to get plane tickets for everyone who needs it, and I was wondering if flying in on Thursday noon would work with your schedule?” Dianne asked.
“Uh, yeah, I think-” an idea popped into your mind, “actually, are there any earlier flights?”
“Yes. When are you thinking? Wednesday?”
“Tonight?” You asked. There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, before you heard some clicking.
“Y-yeah, there’s a flight. Any particular reason?”
“Nothing to be concerned about, no,” you responded, knowing how nosy she could be.
“Alrighty then. I’ll book it. I’ll email you the ticket. This flight leaves at one in the morning where you are. Is that OK?” Dianne asked.
“Yep, that’s perfect!”
“Awesome. OK, I’ll leave you be. Have a great rest of your day.”
“Bye.” You hung up the phone. You felt regret, but, at the same time, you didn’t. You took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled, soothing your nerves, because now comes the hard part.
You walk out of the room to find Damiano and Victoria whispering about something in Italian, but you couldn’t understand what they were saying from where you were. When they heard the door open, they stopped talking and turned their heads towards you.
“Hey,” Victoria said.
“Hey.”
“What was the call about?” Damiano asked.
“Uh, just something about the start date. It’s nothing.”
“OK.”
After a while, Victoria ended up having to go home, leaving you and Damiano to yourselves.
“I’m gonna head off to bed,” you said, hopping off of the counter. “Are you coming with, or are you sleeping by yourself again?”
“I want to sleep by myself again, if that’s OK with you?”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” you responded, an annoyed tone in your voice. You walked out of the kitchen where you, Damiano, and Victoria ultimately ended up, and into your bedroom.
I need to start packing, you thought to yourself. You needed to get to the airport at eleven o’clock so you could get on the plane before it’s too late. However, your thinking was halted when you heard a knocking at your door. You walked over and opened the door, being met with Damiano leaning against the doorframe. He was really close to you. Physically closer than he had been in a while.
“Hey,” you said, staring into his eyes.
“Hi,” he softly smiled, “I just wanted to say, huh,” he looked at his feet, “I love you,” he looked up and stared into your eyes.
“Oh, I, uh-”
“You don’t have to say anything— I don’t want you to. I just needed you to know that. I’ll leave you be now. Goodnight.” He slowly walked away from the door and into the extra room, gently closing the door behind him.
You told yourself that you wouldn’t let that get to you. It can’t, or you won’t be able to leave.
After getting all of your things together, you pulled out some paper and started writing a note for Damiano. You felt horrible for leaving him with just a note to read in the morning, full of devastation. Your eyes started welling up with tears.
When you finished the note, you turned it around and wrote, “For you. I’m sorry.” Quickly, before you could regret your decisions, you grabbed your bags and headed out the front door. You got outside of Damiano’s house, and closed the door. You put the keys up to the lock but hesitated.
He’ll be fine. You need to go anyway. You can always figure this out later, you told yourself. Slowly, you put the key into the hole and turned it.
Rules: Spell out your url with song titles, then tag as many people as there are letters in your url.
Thank you for the tag @strikelikeacobrakai !!!
W-ar by Brutus
R-omantacist by Yves Tumor
I- ndigo Night by Tamino
T- o The Door by HMLTD
I- naction by Whalebones
N- o Love Lost by Keaton Henson
G- oodbye by Apparat, Soap&Skin
S- pun by Chelsea Wolfe
O- n Trees And birds and Fire by I Am Oak
F- resh Out by One Peace
A- ccelerator by Primal Scream
F- amiliär by Anges Obel
O- zünde Narin by Beyaz Hayvanlar
O- n The Lake by Brian Reitzell
L- e Parole Lontane by Måneskin
@robbykeeneslawyer @robbyykeene @itonje @gayhoehours @zeldaisgay @sleepingfancies @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @lukes-orange-beanie @kingkarate @thecyndimistuff @illicitfuck and that's...that's all I got. 3 left 😔
oh yeah this looks fun! thank for tagging me @teatrodellavita <3
L: lividi sui gomiti - måneskin (really was there any other option for this? no)
I: i bet you look good on the dancefloor - arctic monkeys
V: vent’anni - måneskin
I: i hate myself for loving you - joan jett & the blackhearts
D: dancing queen - abba
I: i wanna be your slave - måneskin
S: super trouper - abba
U: under pressure - queen & david bowie
I: Immortale - måneskin ft. vega jones
G: gold on the ceiling - the black keys
O: ophelia - the lumineers
M: moriro da re - måneskin
I: i’m still standing - elton john
T: take a chance on me - abba
I: in the end - linkin park
(i never realized how many i’s there are in my url holy shit!)
i tag @victoria-de-angelis @maybanksslut @i-wanna-b-yours @bidet-and-legolas @queen-of-brokenhearts @damianodavic @damianodavide @damiaxvic @ginny-lily @zittiebuonis @daddydamiano @victoriadeangeliswifey @soundsof-thunder @manesimp @icouldbeyourpuppet (only if you want to do this, of course!)
thank you for the tag @lividisuigomiti @taehyungq !! <3
D: dramatic - cat & calmell
A: all the time - the kooks
M: moon & back - sloan peterson
I: i don't wanna be ur fucking friend - madelline
A: are u gonna tell her? - tove lo
N: niente da dire - måneskin
O: open my eyes - ravenna golden
D: deal with it - ashnikko
A: alone in my car - niki demar
V: vent'anni - måneskin
I: i didn't mean to - sarah barrios
C: ctrl alt del - adelaine morin
i tag @maneslag @manesimp @ginny-lily @damianodavide @thisismyobsessionnow @perfectlyunbiasedobservation @ilballodellavitaa @ethaneskin @pingpongchamps @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @buoniezitti @aprilaady (sorry if you've been tagged <3)
Dystopic love - A Fic about keeping someone you love safe in a chaotic reality / Damiano David x reader.
prompt: in which, you’re living in a dystopia where weird things are in control, and in the middle of that, you and your boyfriend are trying to lean on each other to get out of this alive.
warnings: none, it’s fluff and cute, but Damiano is hurt. (okay, maybe it’s a bit sad)
tagging: @pingpongchamps @oro-e-diamanti
here’s a brutal thank you to Laura, Marta and Mina for reading and being so sweet about it!
He’d be fine, as long as you’re with him.
“Please, God. Don’t make it worse!” You said to yourself, shutting your eyes tightly.
Author's note: Hey everyone, we were super productive with this chapter. But this fic updates when it updates. We want to make it best we can get it. And that takes however long it takes. Hope you like the final product!
3-hour flights, croissants and coffee, 'Isn't she sexy?!', leather booths, and inner monologues. What can go wrong?
The whole airport seemed to be asleep. Damiano had arrived at 6 a.m. along with the rest of his band, bumping into most of the crew at check-in, then dozing his way through security and now standing at the gate, waiting for the flight to be called. He wasn’t exactly someone who needed to sleep in, but he had been so nervous and excited about tour starting that he had barely gotten any rest at all. Vic was sitting somewhere in his vicinity, mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Ethan had briefly left to stroll through the duty free section in order to keep himself awake. Thomas had already lost the fight against his tiredness, slumped so awkwardly in his seat that it would surely give him a sore neck when he woke up. Even Chili was asleep in her little carrier bag at Victoria’s feet.
Out of the corner of his eye, Damiano noticed their manager making her way towards them, Y/n hurriedly coming up behind. She was dressed in a sweater, leggings, some slip on shoes, much less makeup than she had been wearing at their first meeting. Laptop in one hand, and in the other… a tray of coffee. Maybe having her around wouldn't be so bad after all.
Y/n was still all timid smiles, reminding him of the first time they had met back at the restaurant. They hadn’t had much contact with each other since then, just a few work-related mails, but every now and again the image of her eyes had popped into his head and it had been impossible to push it away. Now she was back, and knowing he would be spending the next four weeks with her… He was equally worried and curious.
He watched as she made her round, distributing coffees to everyone, and he wondered if she was saving his for last. Victoria looked up as a takeaway cup appeared in front of her face, only now realising that Y/n had arrived. She immediately jumped up, tiredness easily forgotten and replaced with excitement, as it was often the case with her, and pulled the other woman into a hug. Damiano watched as Y/n motioned over to Thomas, still fast asleep, and Vic gave his shoe a swift kick to wake him up. He sat up with a start, blinking in confusion, but gratefully taking the drink as soon as he noticed it.
Damiano was still chuckling about his bandmate, knowing he tended to be endlessly tired and constantly trying to fit in a nap, when Y/n turned around and faced him. She was still a few feet away, but her eyes… His memory hadn’t done them justice. His heart gave a little flutter as she walked towards him and he willed it to stop. She held out his coffee to him, wordlessly, and as he took it, their fingers brushed for just a moment. He almost let go. Y/n either hadn’t noticed or was polite enough to ignore it.
***
Y/n desperately tried to hide her shaking hand. She needed to be professional and this was far from it. But the way Damiano looked, quite obviously still sporting his bed hair and the most comfortable clothes he could find before leaving for the airport, had her breath caught in her throat. She had hoped the feeling would go away after meeting him for the first time, that she would get used to this, the way he smirked and let his eyes travel over her in secret, the way her heartbeat immediately doubled, but the time apart hadn’t helped. If anything, it had made things worse. And it was only day one of tour. He smiled at her while she handed him his coffee. That smile would be the death of her.
Victoria got up, stepping over Chili without disturbing her, and walking over to Y/n. She was exactly what was to be expected of someone in their early 20s who had just received their first dose of caffeine for the day and Y/n made a mental note to remember that this seemed to be the way to wake her up properly in the morning. She felt like she would have to do that a lot in the next few weeks. Victoria grabbed Y/n’s hand to pull her over to sit with her, making small talk about tour and sharing things she had stumbled upon on Instagram. In the background, the manager did a quick head count, Ethan finally having returned with no purchases to speak of, and told them to stay put for the time being.
Thomas had fallen back asleep, cup of coffee not quite empty still in his hand, and Y/n watched as Ethan chuckled, taking out his phone and filming his bandmate. She could hear him saying something about Thomas being il ragazzo assonnato, the sleepy boy. Damiano was taking a more sensible photo of him taking a sip of his coffee. Vic immediately started looking for it on Instagram. Y/n couldn’t help but be amused. These four idiots would surely keep her on her toes. How she had ended up with a job that left her with the responsibility to make sure none of them got in trouble was beyond her. Noticing the time on her watch, she stood up.
“Do any of you want food? Breakfast? Anything?” She already had her phone in hand, ready to take notes if any complicated orders occurred, but Thomas just groaned, having woken up at the sound of her voice.
“What I want, Y/n, is a smoke, but that won’t be happening soon,” he complained, propping his head up on his hand, only one eye open.
“We’ll have all the smoke breaks in the world when we get to Stockholm. However, I will not have people under my care be hungry on an early morning flight, as I don’t expect any of you to have eaten before getting here. Now, I will go and just get you something unless you have any specific requests. Speaking of requests, you should probably have my private number as well,” she paused briefly, suddenly realising how certain requests could be interpreted, but simply continued, handing out little cards to everyone. “Just in case my work number doesn’t connect or you need to reach me urgently. No memes in the middle of night, guys!”
She mainly gave a pointed look at Thomas, who pretended to be shocked at the accusation, but she simply gave a smile and walked off, only to come back with little paper bags filled with croissants and muffins that she handed out to the band. The announcement that boarding was about to start rang through the terminal right as she had distributed the last goodie bag.
***
Damiano let himself fall into the seat heavily, watching with mild disinterest as the rest of the plane filled up with people. The band and crew were in the rows in front and behind, but the window seat next to him stayed open until the very end. He briefly wondered if he would be the lucky person to have no seat neighbours, but maybe the alternative ended up being better yet. Y/n walked onto the plane last, asking the flight attendant for a seat belt extender on the way, putting it over her arm and carrying it with her. Then, making sure everyone had their luggage and was sitting in their correct places, she stopped in the aisle next to Damiano, awkwardly pointing at the free seat.
“Guess that’s me.”
Damiano quickly got up, letting her in, not missing the way she brushed against him ever so slightly as she passed him by. She shot him a quick thank you, before arranging her bag under the seat in front of her and making do of her seatbelt and the accompanying extender. He could sense she was in work-mode, already opening the folder that contained all the information about tour she could possibly need and seemingly once again going over today’s details. He spotted an array of little notes in the margins. He decided not to bother her, unwilling to be annoying right at the start of their professional relationship. They would all be annoying soon enough, he thought, literally in the same moment as Victoria, sitting one row behind him, obnoxiously kicked the back of his seat. He simply gave her the finger over his shoulder, not even sparing her a glance, and got a giggle in return, telling him she had seen.
Damiano didn’t mind flying, he had long gotten used to, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Y/n next to him was a little on the edge. He didn’t mention it, afraid of crossing boundaries. Instead, he grabbed the little paper bag she had supplied all of them with, finding a heavenly-smelling croissant inside. He took a tentative bite, always weary about airport food, but it was perfect. Of course it would be, coming from her. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the thought.
“You okay?”
Of course she had noticed.
“Mmphf ‘m gd.”
“Sorry?”
Damiano quickly swallowed the rest of his food. What a fool he was making of himself already.
“Sorry, mouth full,” he said, more clearly now. “I said, I’m good.”
She nodded, unconvinced, but he didn’t miss the amused smile playing on her lips. It vanished in a heartbeat though the same second the plane dropped slightly. He wouldn’t have paid any attention to it if it hadn’t been for the way the folder on Y/n’s lap suddenly seemed forgotten, her face drained of all colour, and her hand gripped onto the seatrest between them. He thought the most polite thing would be to ignore her plight, unwilling to make her feel even more uncomfortable or embarrassed by paying attention to a weakness so early on. But then another bout of turbulence hit, and she whimpered in the most miserable fashion, and his heart ached and his hand suddenly held onto hers. She pulled away as if she had touched fire.
Fuck.
“No- I, I am sorry. I just, uh, never fly well. If the universe wanted humans to fly we would have wings, right?” She laughed drily, then looking at him in apology and holding tightly onto the material of her jacket instead. He saw the gears turning in her head as her chest started to rise and fall more slowly. He could tell she was actively trying to calm herself.
“I-, uh, it’s okay. You, uh…”
Fuck, why couldn’t he think of anything! Think, think, think, it echoed in his mind. Her body language was tense and distressed.
Another jolt.
Her eyes closed tightly as if waiting for an impact but it never came. Damiano was lost for words. Y/n stared at the seat in front of her. With a small ping, a pilot’s announcement sounded through the aircraft, announcing that they should be going steadier for the rest of the flight. It still took Y/n a while to stop holding onto herself, grabbing her things again, stuffing the folder that had almost dropped off her lap back into her bag and taking out her laptop instead. She was still breathing quite methodically.
Damiano was quick to lean over and show her a meme of the band one of their fans had posted. She chuckled and gave him a smile. She was still shaken up, but she was smiling at him. At him.
Fuck. She had the prettiest smile.
As Y/n turned back to her laptop, Damiano could feel his cheeks tinting pink, much too giddy at the thought that he had made her smile.
***
We’re going to die, we’re going to die, we’re going to die. Yup. This is how I die, this is how I go. Unmarried, unloved, next to the insanely attractive lead singer of a band I work for and I will see the light go out from his eyes. No one will ever find us. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Okay. Breathe. Deep breaths. Please, for the love of god- WHY IS HIS HAND TOUCHING MINE. Oh for fuck’s sake, back to panicking. This is what I do best. Internalised panic!
Y/n dramatically fretted and agonised in her head. Slowly but surely she managed to deepen her breath, to let go of the racing thoughts. A meme on Damiano’s phone. Okay, good. An announcement from the pilot. Even better. Time to get back to work.
Opening her laptop, Y/n started working on her linguistics project for university. She was looking into a Master’s programme and her supervisor had pushed her to join him as a student research assistant on some work regarding old Italian works, their translations and their comparisons and contrasts to related languages. It wouldn’t have been half as bad if it hadn’t exclusively consisted of handwritten letters, whose writing was impossible to make out most of the time. But, she reminded herself, she was working towards her dream and some difficult penmanship would not stop her.
“Can you actually read any of that?”
Y/n looked over at Damiano, who was staring intently at her laptop screen. Usually, she wasn’t too fond of people watching her work, but she found she didn’t mind all that much with him.
“What exactly is it you’re doing, if you don’t mind me asking?” He continued before she could respond to the first question.
“Basically, all of this is correspondence from the 14th and 15th century, all in Tuscan dialect which is sort of considered to be the basis for what we know as standard Italian today. I’m working on translating it into present-day Italian and analysing the changes that have happened since then, as well as contrasting it with similar letters in other Romance languages that have been explored by researchers before. I’m mainly concentrating on how spellings evolved and if those developments are comparable to those of languages such as French.”
She shut up abruptly, aware that she had been droning on about something that probably didn’t even interest him. But then he pointed at one of the words on her screen and asked about whether it meant what he thought it did and how she would classify the changes and the smile came back to her face as she carefully explained her findings. She couldn’t tell if he was genuinely interested or just tried to keep her distracted, but she was thankful either way.
***
Stockholm was much colder than Rome and all of them found themselves huddling into their coats pulling them tighter around themselves, as they were awaiting further instructions. Several cigarettes were lit.
“I’ll have to go to the hotel, make sure they have our reservation and see when they can check us in,” the manager explained. “I have, however, been told they do not have a big enough lobby to make room for all of us, so the band will accompany Y/n to the rental place to get the tour bus. So you have something to do and don’t get in trouble.”
Thomas was about to protest the last part, but was quickly shot down with a look from their manager. So he hung his head in mock shame and followed Y/n towards the taxis. Damiano found himself hanging back, wanting to see if he could force Y/n and him to share a ride by moving into the background while she split them up.
“Okay! So, Vic, Thomas and the driver can take one car, um, me, Ethan and Damiano will go in the other. I will have our taxi start first so the other one can follow. Once we get there, I will need to sign some papers and things, but there should be a sitting area for you,” Y/n announced, ushering the band into the appropriate cars. Just before getting in herself, she snapped a quick picture of Stockholm airport for her own Instagram story.
Damiano couldn’t tell if Ethan had been reading his mind or just did it obliviously, but when the drummer slid into the front passenger seat, Damiano thanked his lucky stars at getting to sit next to Y/n again. Okay, this was getting a bit obsessive, he really needed to clear his head. He looked over at her, folder back in her lap.
“So, what’s the plan for today then?”
“Get the tour bus, check into the hotel for the next two nights, pack your stuff into the tour bus, make sure to fill the fridge and the pantry and provide anything else you might need on the bus, make sure none of you get lost or die on the way, sleep,” she rattled off.
“That sounds like an awful lot of work and no fun. What about a tour-is-about-to-start dinner?”
“Um.” He could see her scrambling her papers, shuffling them, as if she had missed something. “Um hold on, I don’t know, I hadn’t noted down anything about that. I guess I could try to, um, call around and see if I can get a reservation, I should probably do that as soon as possible then, how many people am I calling in for?”
“Relax,” he smiled, almost reaching out to touch her hand again, but collecting himself in time. “It’s just something we like to do when we have time on the first night. Doesn’t have to be a fancy place or anything.”
“Right, of course,” she laughed breathlessly. It made Damiano want to take all of her stress away. He worried about if she was cut out for this job after all - but it didn’t seem like his place to mention it.
“Five people, by the way.”
“Huh?”
“For the reservation. The band and you.”
His heart loved the shy smile that appeared on her face. He adored it for a minute, before the taxi driver hit the brakes roughly. The drive to the rental place had been much too short for his liking. Y/n got out of the car, paying for both rides, as the band and driver waited for her. She took charge, walking into the building with as much confidence as she could muster, email confirmations already in hand. The band was ushered to take a seat as she walked over to the counter with the driver.
Vic raised her eyebrows at Damiano, obviously not having missed the way his eyes followed her. “So… she’s not so bad?”
Damiano rolled his eyes, not bothering with a reply. Victoria looked back and forth between the two.
“I could see it.”
“Vic, no. You can see whatever you want, it’s not going to happen.”
She simply shrugged, but the smirk never left her face. Damiano looked around for the others. Ethan had already made himself comfortable in one of the chairs, impatiently drumming a rhythm on his leg. Thomas was in front of a vending machine, searching for a snack. It was alway either naps, snacks, or cigarettes with that boy. Disregarding Y/n’s earlier orders, both Damiano and Victoria made their way over to the counter. The bassist was relentlessly digging into his sides, not done with the teasing, as he kept slapping her hands away.
“Almost done here,” Y/n smiled politely as she looked through the papers in front of her, singing where necessary. “Please be aware that I’m liable for this so try not to destroy the bus completely.”
“Now, that just sounds like a challenge,” Vic giggled, but quickly added onto it as Y/n actually started to look worried, “I’m just kidding, we’ll be on our best behaviour.”
“Yes, best behaviour,” Damiano said with a wink.
In the background, Thomas briefly interrupted them, shouting, “The machine stole my money!”
“Yes, Thomas, that’s how they work!” Damiano laughed at his friend’s anguish.
“Not without giving me anything!” The other protested. “I’m going for a smoke break.” Thomas pouted as he walked outside.
“You can all have a smoke break now, actually,” Y/n declared. “The bus will be around soon. Tell me what you think.” She grinned, looking at Vic and Damiano, before giving the last of the paperwork back to the clerk behind the desk, then following everyone outside. Damiano saw her standing next to Ethan, resting a hand on his shoulder. He said something to her, both smiling. All he could do was watch. He didn’t know why.
“Ooooh! Bus, bus, bus!” Victoria started chanting, easily infecting both Damiano and Thomas with her silliness. Ethan shook his head, smile on his face. Y/n quickly took out her phone again, recording the spectacle in front of her before bursting out laughing. She adored their childlike joy and how easily they fell into it. Their chants only grew louder as a gate started to beep, opening up and revealing a dark red tour bus coming around to where they were standing. Damiano gasped, dramatically falling to his knees.
“Oh! She’s so sexy!”
All of them crowded around the bus, admiring its shiny appearance, Damiano still on his knees in worship. Y/n panned the camera away from them towards Ethan, who simply shrugged. Damiano, meanwhile, was busy fumbling with the door, erupting in euphoric shouting as he managed to get it open. The band scrambled inside like a hoard of rabid dogs, phones in hand, exploring and filming their new home for the time being.
“Is that a console?!” Thomas’ voice rang through the bus. Damiano turned to Y/n, who had followed the band in a much more orderly manner and whose face was now displaying a shy, but proud, smile.
“I made sure they put one in when we requested the rental online.”
“You already know us so well,” Damiano grinned, hand briefly lingering on her shoulder. She didn’t pull away this time.
Back outside, Y/n made last arrangements with their driver, before announcing that hotel and foot were next. Once again they split up into their groups, Y/n already on the phone as she entered the cab, making sure to get a reservation for the five of them. As soon as she put down the phone, she slouched deeper into her seat. Work-mode Y/n was starting to slip away. She pulled some bobby pins out of her hair, strands now falling freely around her face. Damiano thought he liked her even more this way.
The hotel was lush, with marble and greenery. Clicks of heels echoed in the lobby. The crew busied themselves with their own job, long used to the routine, as the manager handed out room keys, before checking in with some other members of the team. Y/n made sure to note down everyone’s room numbers in her phone, adamant to keep track of everyone. Her stomach grumbling convinced her it was time for a real meal.
***
About an hour later, everyone was following Y/n into the restaurant she had chosen, a cozy little place that had set a booth aside for them. The band wasn’t well known enough to fear eating out in public at any rate, but none of them minded a bit of privacy before they would lose most of it over the course of the tour. Victoria slid into the booth first and Damiano found himself fighting Thomas to get in next, almost pushing the guitarist away.. Ridiculous, he thought to himself, but still smug that he got his wish as Y/n moved in next to him, followed by Ethan and Thomas.
Menus were handed out quickly, drinks and food ordered, various conversations breaking out between various people. Damiano ignored it all, solely focused on Ethan, who was busy making conversation with Y/n. He told himself it was because there was no harm getting to know their new assistant better, so there was no harm in listening in to their discussion. Surely.
“So, Ethan, I have to ask. Do you break hair ties as often as I assume you do?” Y/n grinned, resting her head in her hands as they all waited for their food to arrive. “I always carry my makeup bag with me, so if you ever need some, hit me up.”
“The secret is to invest in the really good, unbreakable ones, believe me, they exist,” he laughed. “Nothing worse than one failing on you when you’re in the middle of practice and suddenly hair is everywhere. But I guess you’d know, you’ve got quite a head of hair yourself, don’t you.”
“Oh yeah - you should see it after a shower, it’s freaking ridiculous! I could easily cosplay something from Silent Hill, or a monster from the black lagoon, no one would question it. And when it dries it springs up into a rat’s nest, so I really can’t win. Though I must say, in my line of work, there is far less head banging and music making - and no, I did not intend for that to be a rhyme.”
“Well, just wait until you’ve been on tour with us for a bit, I bet I can get you head-banging in the front row before you know it,” he teased, leaning back and resting his arm on top of the leather booth. Y/n scooted around to face the drummer more directly now. Damiano finally found himself looking up from burning imaginary holes into the table, only to see Ethan sitting with his arm around their assistant - at least, that surely was what it looked like!
She burst out laughing at the assumption. Letting out a head back, eyes shut, kinda laugh. “Oh, you’re going to make a sinner out of me boy!” She nudged his shoulder. “But speaking of: Do all of you play several instruments? I barely could get around the clarinet when I was a kid.”
A sinner out of her?! Y/n was sweet and kind and the only sinning she is going to be doing - No, Damiano scolded himself. He sounded like a lunatic. He needed to get a grip.
“Yeah, it kind of comes with the territory. Definitely helps when making songs. I usually stay behind the drum kit, mainly because Vic teases me the second I try to pick up a bass. Anyway, I’m sure we could teach you some time, if you’re up for it?”
Damiano grumbled to himself. Sure, teach her, spend all your time with her, I’m sure she’ll love you soon enough. He didn’t quite know why he was being so mean, even if it was only in his head, but he couldn’t stop himself.
“Yes, absolutely! I always had a fond attachment to drums, actually,” she smiled, pausing for a second before tilting her head to the side in question. “So, back at the bus… are they always like that?”
Ethan smirked, looking around his bandmates in contemplation. “Well, yeah. If we’re not working, they tend to go a bit crazy. You’ll get used to it easily enough. And if not, you can always hide out with me.”
“Ah, yes. Peace from the ever raging storm outside in a very tall, dark, and handsome lighthouse behind a drum wall. I mean that lovingly and platonically of course. Want to put that forward.” She held out her hands showing sincerity.
Tall, dark and what kinda bullshit was this? Damiano thought. He didn’t dare think about how she would describe him instead, surely not in the flattering way she was talking about Ethan now, her saviour from the rest of them. He sighed internally. She did say ‘platonically', but still. Damiano was the one at the front, the singer, loud, charismatic, never shying away from a flirt. He was convinced he was a catch - but this woman was making his convictions waver.
“Talking about lovingly and platonically,” Ethan clumsily changed the topic. “Anyone lovingly or platonically missing you while you’re away on tour? A partner waiting on the phone?”
Damiano barely managed to hold back an audible ground now. What did Ethan think he was doing? This was so far beyond friendly, he decided.
“Oh god no. I haven’t been in a relationship - hell, I haven’t been on a real date in 3 years now? I think? My ex was a dick, like, run of the mill dick, definitely nothing to write home about. The guys back home either seem to want to fuck you or fuck you up and I don’ think they even know which is which. Sort of been on my own I guess. I’m more of a romantic, a proper romantic. Or at least I’d like to think so. And real romance is hard to come by with eggplants and peaches and ‘you up?’ texts at 3 am.” She chuckled darkly as she messed with her hair. “Do you have a long-awaited love at home? Sitting by a window waiting for her boy to come from the figurative war?” There was a glint of humour in her eyes as she looked at him.
Damiano was still occupied with her mentions of said ex. Whoever he is, I am going to destroy him. It’s decided. I will get his name and address and give him a good piece of mind. With my fists. He- wait, what did she say? No real date? Oh…
Ethan couldn’t hold back a laugh, playing with the napkin in front of him. “No, no one at home. I’m not really looking for that kind of commitment at the moment, with us being on tour and all. I do enjoy the odd short-lived encounter, but I promise, I’m not one of those guys.” He held up his hands in mock surrender.
“Good, good. I get that though. Despite my outer packaging,” she motioned to her semi-professional outfit, “short flings are nice. Though I never do one night stands, that’s just too dangerous in my mind. On an odd note, I think it’s nice how you guys have welcomed me, by the way. You all seem to have a fort-knox-level of relationship with each other. It’s actually really refreshing.” Looking down at her hands, her voice got quiet as she admitted her thoughts.
“Of course,” Ethan said softly, briefly resting a hand on her shoulder not to undermined that he meant it. “We’re all a team here and we try to make the crew part of that too, and now you’re an important part of it. You’ll feel at home with us in no time.”
“Thanks. Anyway, now! To the fun question - can I have your skin care routine? Because your skin looks amazing,” she giggled as the waitress put their drinks on the table.
“You’re going to hate me, but it’s literally just water and a bit of moisturiser. Sometimes Vic forces me to do face masks with her - actually, you should probably talk to her about tips, she always makes us do skin care evenings, I bet she’ll be glad to have someone who actually wants to do them with her now,” he grinned.
“No, no, I respect that honesty. Sometimes simple just works. But I’ll definitely take Victoria aside some time!”
Y/n had barely finished her sentence as the waitress brought everyone’s meals over. Everyone shut up and dug in immediately - a tell-tale sign of a good meal. Damiano kept shuffling in his seat, trying to get comfortable, daring himself to get closer to Y/n, but fearing getting too close still. In his turmoil, his elbow harshly nudged her side. All air seemed to leave her lungs as she let out a pained gasp. Crap, crap, crap. Damiano’s mouth was quicker than his brain: “Are you fucking sorry?”
The whole table fell silent, everyone’s movements coming to a halt, all eyes on Damiano, who only realised which words had left his mouth after it was much too late. His eyes widened in panic.
“Pardon? I mean, you said what now?” Y/n whipped around sounding the most British she had since they had met. Her voice was dry - and pointed.
“No, no, no, fuck, I meant to say ‘I’m so fucking sorry’ and ‘Are you okay’ at the same time - I, uh, fuck, I just wanted to apologise, I mean!”
The eruption of laughter all around him didn’t make him feel any better. He hung his head, awkwardly stabbing at his meal. He was usually so suave, this wasn’t like him at all, and he hated it.
Y/n nudged him while everyone was still giggling and teasing. “If it helps, I’m definitely not ‘fucking sorry’. At least not that I’m sitting here next to you right now.”
***
“You seemed really cozy with Y/n tonight,” Damiano remarked as he and Ethan entered their shared room late that evening.
“At least I didn’t ask her if she was fucking sorry,” Ethan laughed, obviously not realising how serious his bandmate was being. Damiano only groaned, unwilling to be reminded of the incident. “She seems great, good conversation.”
Yeah, great conversation, Damiano thought to himself, desperate to hide his disgruntlement.
“Sounded like you really got along. Hope you’re not planning on making her one of your ‘short-lived encounters’.”
Ethan dropped whatever he was shuffling through in his overnight bag, shooting Damiano a confused look.
“No, I’m not,” he paused. “Why do you care so much though? Planning on making her one of yours?”
Damiano’s face was set in stone now, obviously getting madder by the second. He didn’t know why the topic riled him up so much but it did. “Of course not. Just wanted to make sure. It would be very unprofessional, you know.”
“Yeah, sure…” Ethan’s voice sounded almost amused and Damiano hated it. The drummer wasn’t even taking him seriously. This was not how he had planned to handle this - hell, he hadn’t meant to say anything at all as it was. He shook his head, turning back to his own bag to look for whatever he’d need for the night.
“Good. Just want to make sure we all know where the line between a professional and a private relationship is.” With that, he brushed past Ethan into the bathroom and into the shower. Maybe the water would wash away his muddled thoughts. Maybe tomorrow he will be able to think more clearly.
Fluffly (like extra Fluffly) fic with Damiano David.
prompt: a day with damiano + damiano getting you a puppy so you don't feel alone when he's on tour.
warnings: none. it's just small.
tagging: @pingpongchamps - @oro-e-diamanti (thank you for proofreading my stuffs love <3) -
The sun illuminated the room, making you think that on any other day you would have been angry at that, but in that moment it was a mere reminder that the night before had been so good that closing the curtains is mouth half open against the pillow, hair all messy against his cheek - and you wrapped in-between his arms. You cuddled more into him, letting his scent mix with yours, trying not to wake him up, you just wanted to feel part of him. Your skin crawled when you felt the cold material of his necklace come into contact with your body; sticking to your similar one. It was sunny, but the cold was still present almost inviting you not to leave Damiano’s side. You ran your fingers down his torso - pressing on each naked part that was visible to you, until you reached the hem of his underwear; trying to memorize how soft and comfy his skin was in the morning. His body was warm against yours, making you wish that every day could be like that, without having to worry about the months that he would be gone, just enjoying his presence on a lazy day. You could see drool on his pillow, long eyelashes resting softly on his cheeks, adding to a reddish to his nose; making his whole face begging to be kissed.
Tracing your fingers across his cheek, going to his nose, you counted each little brown marks that ran across his skin, letting yourself remember that in a few hours he would be on a plane going away from you again.
The days before he left for a tour were always intense, both wanted to spend most of the time left together, knowing that both would be missing each other by the first month; in part you liked that intensity and tried to enjoy being with him, even though him needing to go was a little painful. Selfish, but you tried your best.
Taking those thoughts out of your head, you thought about giving him a kiss but his face looked so calm and his breathing so smooth that you soon changed your mind. You tightened the sheet around your naked body and got up from the bed, only to feel Damiano’s arms tightly around your waist so that you could fall to his side again. You laughed, now knowing that you hadn’t realized he was awake all this time.
“Keep starin’ at me, little pea. It’s creepy, but a bit nice too, y’know.” His voice was raspy and deep - the mixture of his accent with sleep almost made you not understand him.
“I wasn’t staring, I was admiring; there’s nothing creepy about it,” you laid your face on his chest, feeling it vibrate with his laughter. “Not my fault you are a cute sleeper.”
Damiano wasn’t the shy type, still you were one of the few people who had that power over him to make him blush, and you loved watching his cheeks turn pink while his eyes drifted from yours for a split second; just like right now.
He buried his face in your hair as you adjusted the sheet better over your breasts; since it was falling due to previous actions. “No need to hide it from me, we know that I’ve seen them several times,”
“No Dami,” you mumbled between laughter, hiding your face on his neck.
“I’m dead serious, I love ‘em,” he squeezed you, bringing you closer to him while kissing your shoulder.
“Dami, stop,”
“Sure, but only ‘cause you look like you're about to explode, my embarrassed thing,”
“How sweet,” you mumbled, feeling sleep taking all over you once again on this morning due to the comfort of his body.
“Dami?” He purred. “Can we get up? Have coffee, go for a walk maybe or I don’t know, just something,”
With his eyes still closed, he didn’t move, just pressed your body tighter into his. “Why? Here’s just nice, I get to snog you and everything,”
He kept a smile on his face, and as you were dying at his view, he opened his eyes for you, making you realized you hadn’t answered him yet. “It’s just that the days seem to be longer when we’re doing something other than being in bed,” and at that he agreed, holding your hand as a signed that he would get up.
“Okay, breakfast then, lil’ pea.”
———
Damiano looked restless in the kitchen; more than his normally. From minute to minute he checked the time on the clock, even though he was making sure that he was paying attention to his surroundings.
"Babe?” He turned to you. Like a lost puppy. He had just set the table. “Here, try this?” You took the spoon full of scrambled eggs to him, supporting your hand below to avoid some of it falling.
He proved it, nodding. “It’s good,” he pulled the spoon out of your hand, kissing you.
You smiled, sitting at the table while he fetched the tea kettle. He filled both cups that were already filled with fresh chamomile, when you thought he would finally sit down in front of you - where his chair was -, he pulled it out and placed it next to yours. Simple gesture, enough to make you become a tingling mess inside. With legs rubbing and shoulders colliding, he positioned the two dishes side by side so you could start eating.
At times, he would support his head on your shoulder, rubbing his hair on your cheek; just for you to stop eating and kiss the top of his head for him to let out a lovely sigh; there were no words that could describe how much you loved it when he was at home, being able to create comfy moments like this to play on your mind on day.
"I’m full,” you said breathlessly. This time you put your face on his shoulder for him to kiss.
You never ate much in the morning. “It’s alright, you can finish your tea though,” he murmured. You nodded. He would eat what you had left, as he always needed to do and you would finish your tea.
“What is it?” You whispered, a bit annoyed.
Someone was screaming outside, no specific name.
He looked at the clock. “The bell,” another sip was taken from his tea.
“Okay,” You said reluctantly. You didn’t want to leave. “I’ll be right back.”
At the door was a girl standing still with a big box in her hands.
“Y/N?” She asked.
You confirmed,confused. She smiled, handing you a big box. It was yellow, with a few small holes. On the side was written in beautiful handwriting ‘to Damiano David and Y/N/L’. You were about to turn the box around when the girl stopped you, asking you to be careful. You thanked her and she waved, saying a small, but happily bye. The box moved sharply, transferring all the weight that was on one side to the other.
“DAMIANO?!”
He came to you, big smile on his lips, all teeth and wrinkles around the eyes. “C’mon, open it or do you want me to cover your eyes and ask you to guess what it is?”
Your face reflected his, you immediately sat on the floor, Damiano following you.
“I hope you‘ll love him, it’s the cutest!” He exclaimed, getting more excited as he helped you to remove the lid from the box.
You were enlivened about it, but he was way more than you. His hopeful eyes analyzed you in a funny way as if there was any change you didn’t like.
“Oh, Dami,” You sighed. The puppy had a light cream-colored fur, eyes as dark as blueberries and it had a golden collar with a pendant similar to yours. “I love him,” You took the furry ball in your hands, it nestled in your arms trying to bite the string off your necklace. Damiano helped you get the little dog's mouth out of it, you couldn’t help but laugh with his attempt to make him not bite his fingers either. “I loved the leash idea too, thanks love,”
He remained happy, enlightened. “I ordered a similar one from some store,” he said, pointing to the necklace on you; that was a exactly copy of his one. “A friend was looking for people to take the puppies of his dog that gave birth a few months ago, and then I thought of you. We always talk about how we can’t wait for the family to grow, huh?”
You put the dog next to you, leaning over to give him a quick kiss. “So it’s like a first step then?” You asked softly, you didn’t want to cross any lines, you didn’t know if you got it right.
“Yep, if that’s okay to you,” he confirmed as the dog tried to jump on his lap. You couldn’t blame him, you wanted to do the same. Your smile couldn’t be bigger.
“That’s okay to me,” you hugged him, without crushing the dog, instead you made him part of it. “God, that’s more than just OK,” you shamelessly felt like crying.
Damiano giggled, giving your face multiple kisses until you fell on the floor with him, making the dog start barking at both of you. He put the little ball of fur on his belly, patting the animal’s head.
“You’re going to take care of her while I’m away, right little one?” He asked the dog, holding his head towards him.
The dog purred, as if saying ‘yes’ and Damiano wrinkled his nose at the view of it. Looking at you; signaling to see if you had seen it, you smile bright, mouthing that you had.
You bit your bottom lip, finding all of it the cutest thing in the world when the name that should be given to the dog came to your head. “Mind if I name it?”
"Nah, of course not. What do ya have in mind darlin’?”
You had to contain a laugh. “Dami.”
“What?” His high pitched voice filled through the place. “No way,” he laughed, even though he knew there was no way; the dog would be named after him.
You held the little animal, turning it to Damiano. “See, that’s little Dami,”
“Just like little pea?” You nodded, remembering of the silly nickname he called you since you first met.
“Yes, exactly,” you hugged the little fur mess against your chest. “That’s little Dami.”
Soft glances across a tour bus, friends who know you too well and tight quarters make for embarrassingly romantic situations.
Content | Fluff with eventual smut (will be indicated on each chapter accordingly)
Pairing | Damiano x fem!Reader
Word Count | 1955
Taglist (feel free to ask to be added or removed for this chapter story!) | @ginny-lily @ethaneskin @tabi-toast @mywritingonlyfans @manesimp @ohtorchio @daddydamiano @damianodavide @tiaamberxx
***
Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
Y/n tried to get a look through the windows of the restaurant, feeling uncomfortable with the thought of being the first - or the last - to arrive, but the sun was too bright, and all she could get a glance of was her own reflection. She looked fine, she decided. Casual pants, casual blouse, a blazer on top. Nothing too fancy but professional enough to be taken seriously.
Right, this was it, she thought, as she pushed the doors to the restaurant open. It wasn't hard to spot the group. Since moving to Italy, she'd seen plenty of attractive groups of young people - but none of them quite this attractive. They seemed to catch everyone's eyes, charming the people around them without even trying. She knew they were all about extravagant clothes and makeup, but even today, in the most regular outfits she had ever seen them in, they had a certain aura around them.
Keeping her head high and her face friendly, she walked over to the group, happy to see them notice her and stop their loud bantering. All of them stood up, immediately engulfing her in hugs one after another, and she only stumbled for a moment before the surprise of it all passed. She had googled them extensively before, she considered that her job as well, but she didn't mind the little refresher as all of them announced their names in greeting. She made some more mental notes. Victoria, also called Vic - gorgeous little blonde, bassist, extroverted, welcoming. Ethan - the smoothest, long black hair she had ever seen on a man, drummer, quiet and polite. Thomas - looking straight out of a classic rock band from the '70s or '80s, guitarist, lanky but fun. And Damiano.
Oh, dear. The tour hadn't even started yet but she knew she was in deep trouble. That man - he looked like he had been sculpted by the Gods. He had those eyes that drew you in and made you feel completely naked, a jawline to die for, gorgeous hair and a smile that you couldn't believe could ever be directed at you. She knew that there was no way a man like him could be interested in a woman like her - but she also knew that she would most likely not stop getting that tingling feeling every time she caught his eye. Tour was going to be fun.
***
Damiano hadn't been all that excited about the meeting. Sure, they were going to discuss the upcoming European tour and he was dying to go play shows again, but meetings like these usually droned on and on with information he was going to forget about anyway. On top of that, their tour manager had announced they'd be meeting her new assistant for the first time, and new people always came with their own challenges.
All of that vanished from his head the second the woman stepped into the restaurant. He wasn't sure why, but he immediately knew she was the one they had been waiting for. She looked nice, if a little unspectacular, and greeted them with polite professionalism. Only seconds after everyone had given her their names and a welcoming hug - damn, she smelled inviting - their manager bustled into the restaurant as well, busy as always, but constantly in charge and aware of what needed to be done.
"Okay, okay, I see everyone else is already here, this is Y/n, everyone, Y/n, this is the band, now everyone sit down and let's talk business."
Business mainly consisted of talking about the route the tour would take, sizes of venues, ways of travelling, and hotels they were going to stay at. Y/n nodded, taking more than enough notes even though they'd all get little portfolios with all the information anyway, and Damiano couldn't stop watching her and the way her pen was gliding over the pages. Every now and then she looked up at him and he was quick to go back to paying attention to their tour manager instead. The conversation had turned to their setlist, songs they wanted to do, covers they were thinking about trying, and he was more interested in that anyway.
"Right, I've gotta take this."
Damiano hadn't even noticed the manager's phone ringing before she jumped up to take the call outside, once again catching himself staring at the new assistant. Victoria's attention was immediately back on her.
"So, Y/n, tell us a bit more about you."
***
A slight panic rushed through her at Victoria's question. Of course, she knew they'd want to get to know her better, she was going to accompany them on tour for a whole month, it was only natural. Yet, four pairs of eyes belonging to some of the most attractive people in the business now all focusing on her was slightly unnerving.
"Uh, well, I normally work security for venues. I have been a P.A. for three years now, different clients, bands, influencers-" She couldn't help cringe at the last part, but simply kept going. She knew how important a first impression was and she wasn't going to blow it. "I'm from the UK but I moved to Italy for university, doing languages and translation, so I can help out with that as well. Got the offer for this job from someone I'd worked with before, and here I am."
Looking at Victoria with undivided attention, then at the rest of the group, gauging how her answer was received. Straight to the point, addressing the question, but nothing more.
"So, what about you guys? Excited for the tour?" Y/n asked, deflecting. Enough attention had been placed on her person already. Vic tilted her head in bemusement, possibly at the quiet nature of their new assistant. Ethan shot Damiano a look, sensing the air change around him ever so slightly.
"Yeah, we are all happy. See more of Europe and everything, meet new people. Visit new clubs," Thomas suggested, raising an eyebrow at Victoria.
"Yes! New clubs! Do you dance, Y/n? Or go out at all?"
"Oh, dear, no. I don't have the time. I do enjoy going out, but mainly to museums and cafés. I don't think the nighttime is for me, I'm more than happy to stay in and prepare for the next day."
***
Damiano couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at the woman. She sounded ambitious enough, and if their tour manager had specifically chosen her, she would probably do a good job, but personality-wise she seemed to be the polar opposite of the band. He usually liked getting to know his crew on evenings out, nothing revealed a person’s true colours the way alcohol could, but she was talking about museums and staying in. He couldn’t help being doubtful.
Still, he couldn’t help notice her adorable smile, the way her shyness peaked through, and how her grip on the pen tightened when the attention was on her. So, she was cute. Didn’t necessarily mean she’d be a good fit for the job - only time would tell.
Their tour manager hastily came back, dropping the portfolios in front of everyone, and told them to call her if they had any questions, otherwise, everything would happen as outlined in the booklet. Quickly drowning the rest of his drink, Damiano bustled outside with the others, only realizing that the new assistant and their manager had stayed inside for a private conversation when he lit his cigarette.
***
If the phrase 'Hate to have you leave, but love to watch you walk away' ever applied to anyone, it was this band, Y/n decided as she watched them go outside. Damiano was on the other side of the window with the rest of the band, everyone but Victoria grabbing a cigarette, and she couldn't help but stare. She didn't smoke herself, but some romantic notion still prevailed as the smoke was dripping off their lips.
Their manager handed her some papers she specifically would need in her role. She commented on how she thought it went well and that she hoped they would all get along. Y/n agreed that they seemed to be a group of people passionate about their job, their creation, and their performance, and that suited her just fine. So, they may be rockstars, all about Gucci outfits and posed photos, but the people they were behind all the spectacle made her heart flutter with possibilities. She was going to see the world with these people. And that was more than exciting.
Standing up, she collected her things, smiling at their manager who was settling the bill with the waitress. This was going to be an adventure Y/n wouldn't miss for the world. Damiano's eyes still held tightly onto her thoughts. His smile. The way he made sure everyone was alright before heading out. He probably didn't even notice he was doing it.
Quickly, Y/n collected the plates and cups and stacked them together for the staff before heading out. It can never hurt to be polite, she said to herself. Their manager had made it outside as well, stopping at the group to give them all hugs and kisses on the cheeks, before heading to her car. Y/n couldn't help but smile seeing them interact.
***
"So what do we think of the new assistant?"
Smoke was blowing from Damiano's cigarette into Victoria's face. She swatted it away before giving Damiano a slight slap on the shoulder in annoyance. He didn't react. Just like the others didn't react to his question, the other two men too busy lighting their cigarettes, and Vic being stubborn now. It didn't really bother him.
"I'm just not convinced. She seems really quiet and shy and you know how our team works. I don't think she's gonna be able to keep up with us."
"Maybe she's gonna be able to keep up exactly because she's so calm. She works as an assistant, she needs to be a lot more level-headed than we are," Victoria argued.
"I think she's cute," Ethan murmured. Vic's eyes were lighting up, ready to start teasing, but Ethan quickly shot her down and continued talking. "Not like that, don't even start. I just think she could be a nice addition to the team."
Victoria still had a grin on her face but stayed quiet after another pointed look from him.
Damiano was still lost in his thoughts, typically the one out of the foursome to worry most about, well, everything. Letting someone new into their team was always a risk to disrupt the dynamics they had fought so hard to build. Not even to imagine what would happen if they didn't work out at all and they'd have to look for someone new halfway through Europe.
Damiano watched as the woman finished her conversation with their tour manager, last details finalised before they'd set off for a month-long stretch playing through the continent. He could see her smiling to herself, organising the mess they had left on the table while their manager paid, and then came outside to say her goodbyes to the band, throwing arms and kisses around before getting into her car.
He also watched as Y/n finally left the building, walking past where the band was standing, and he couldn't help but catch her eye. She lowered her head immediately, but then looked up again to shoot him a timid smile. He grinned back, waving a little too enthusiastically without knowing why and smiling back as her face erupted in a heart-warming giggle.
"Maybe not so bad?" Victoria asked quietly, the only one to have noticed the little interaction.
