° Everyone wants to fuck him. This wasn't a brand new concept to you. But tonight the knowledge came with some extra weight. -- watching the audience lust after your boyfriend puts you in a proactive mood
wordcount::: 3,185
° anon request: Y/n giving him a blow job after a show and he's all sweaty and panting and he's making the best sounds and is just loving it- thankyou for sharing your ideas with me 💋 requests are soo open! but commissions get priority, secure your spot in my priority list here!
° lyrics stolen from michael jackson
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she waits at backstage doors for those who have prestige
This wasn't the first time you had watched a Måneskin concert, in the six months that you had been dating Damiano you had seen a bunch of their live shows.
But you were still surprised by how the crowd responded to him. He could keep them so consistently excited, they were captivated by every move, screaming with complete abandon. From your spot backstage, you could see some signs being held up, and most of them were explicit in nature. Then the bras went flying at him, launched through the air to land at his feet, unprompted. How much had those bras cost?
It was a strange notion to think that yours wasn't the only bra he would touch tonight. This intimate act was offered so freely to him and by a large number of people (you imagined there were more pieces of lingerie that hadn't been thrown hard enough to make it to the stage). They were willing to part with their possessions for a shot at intimacy with him.
Everyone wants to fuck him. This wasn't a brand new concept to you. But tonight the knowledge came with some extra weight. Your fingers curled into your palms until you could feel the nails pressing on the skin as you wondered what they were doing to him in their fantasies.
You had the rest of the gig to move away from this jealousy. Eventually you could keep your eyes off of the crowd, instead watching for the fun little subtleties in his performance. You kept reminding yourself that you were the only one who got to have him. But simply thinking it didn't feel good enough after a while, you needed to act.
You were upon him as soon as he got off stage, coming into this private area, covered in so much sweat that his bare torso glistened. Usually you greeted him with a bottle of water, but that wasn't going to cut it tonight. You threw your arms around him, feeling like you had been waiting days to kiss him. He didn't resist, his arms moving around you as he kissed you back. He didn't prioritise catching his breath, just letting you enjoy his mouth. The activity of so many people backstage carried on without any input from either of you.
“It was a good show?” He asked, stealing more kisses in the quick pauses between words. “Did you have fun?”
You nodded, dragging your fingers over his scalp. “Uh-huh. But the real fun is just starting.”
He had gotten his breath back, but his cheeks were still filled with a bright blush. “What are you talking about?”
You grinned, sparing only quick glances to either side to make sure no one was close enough to hear. You moved in, speaking into his ear. “I wanna blow you.”
He was looking around to see how much privacy you currently had, a nervous smile on his face. He put his hands over yours, gently guiding them away from his head. “We should be able to leave for the hotel soon.” He kissed the palm of your hand. “Real soon.” He kissed the other. “There's no plans for the rest of the night ‘cause we have to be up so early for recording and…”
“I don't think you understand.” You said with a little extra firmness of tone. “I want it right now. I've been thinking of little spots that we could sneak off to. 'Cause I'm not gonna be able to think clearly until your cum is in my throat.”
His eyes grew very wide and for a moment he was just frozen, seeming like he didn't know how to process this. He looked all around the two of you again.
“Baby…”
“Oh, are you shy now?” You asked with a teasing smile, interlacing your fingers with his.
“No, not shy. You’ve really caught me by surprise, that’s all.” He said.
“Do you want to hear about the private spots I’ve found, or do you want to wait until we’re back at the hotel?” You asked.
He relaxed enough to show you a smile. “Let's go hide, my little fucktoy.”
A strong heat coursed through your veins at hearing that and you grabbed him to give him more kisses. But you didn't let yourself become distracted by this indulgence. You pulled away before too long and started off, away from this main hub of activity.
You held his hand as you led the way. He kept up with you, only occasionally slowing so that he could speak to someone as you were passing, quickly telling them that he would be back in five minutes. No one questioned him for more details, so you didn't have to give any attention to them, they were just part of the scenery.
You took him down a hallway, past the door to his individual dressing room. You left the carpeted floor, no longer hearing the conversations of others, in addition to seeing no other members of the Måneskin entourage. You walked down a small flight of stairs, turning left instead of going through a double fire exit door. You sought out the shadows beneath the stairs, going into this grimy area.
You turned to face him as you backed up to the rough concrete wall. He allowed you to pull him in, but he wore an unsure expression.
“I’ve definitely seen more romantic places.” He said.
“I didn’t say it was gonna be romantic, I said it was private.” You said.
He still didn’t appear impressed, checking around over his shoulder. “Are you sure? If someone goes looking for me ‘cause they think I’m having a smoke, they’re going to check out that door.”
“We can go back to your dressing room. But that’s the first place anyone is gonna look for you.” You said. “If they see that door is shut, they’ll assume you’re getting changed or something, they’ll wait, which gives us more time.”
“Getting blown in a dressing room is kinda basic.” He said, smiling again.
You used both of your hands on his arm, tugging like it was a length of rope. “So basic and my daddy isn’t basic.”
The look on his face told you that no further convincing was required. You had made use of his private nickname at the right time and now he was on board, coming even closer to you in this unremarkable space.
You put your hand to his cheek, which was still a little moist with sweat. As you kissed him, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders, gripping his body to you. His hands went to your back as you eased your tongue into his mouth. You worked the front of your body against his, working towards your goal of getting him to forget about the existence of everyone but you.
He was starting to show you how receptive he was, leaning into you more. But you broke off the kiss, rather than letting him settle into a rhythm. His hands gripped your back harder, clearly wanting to pull you in. Instead you lowered yourself down and his eyes got a little wider as he watched you progress to the ground.
Your dress didn’t protect your knees, but you didn’t care to consider how long it had been since this section of the floor had been cleaned. He side-stepped further under the stairs, barely any light touching him as he put his back to the wall. You turned to face him, kneeling directly in front of his feet.
His hands began to play with your hair as you reached for the waistband of his pants. There was a quiver in your thighs, you were so excited to get to just concentrate on your desires (they kept multiplying).
You saw the way he was smiling before you lowered your eyes to what was directly in front of your face. Your hands went to the buckle of his belt. As you started to undo this you leaned in, your mouth open. You dragged your tongue along his happy trail, collecting some of the sweat that remained amongst the hairs. This gave you a taste different to what you could draw from his mouth - saltier, more primal. You heard him let out a sigh as he curled some of your hair around his fingers.
You got the belt and pants open, pulling them down about an inch. You took his underwear down a little, pulling the waistband away from his body so you could reach inside. His fingers tensed around your hair as you secured his length in your hand, freeing it from the confines of his clothes.
He was already stiffening, maybe his mind was racing just as much as yours. You licked your lips as you kept your fingers loosely wrapped around his cock. You slowly stroked up-and-down, just feeling how warm he was getting as more blood flowed to this area.
You took your hand down towards his base, using this to hold the shaft steady. Then you opened your mouth, extending your tongue. This time you applied it to his head, feeling even more heat. His desires were becoming clearer as he slightly pulled on your hair, holding the strands taut now, a long way from causing any pain yet.
Your tastebuds were graced by this intimate flavour as you worked your tongue up-and-down his tip. You progressed to spreading your saliva all over the crown of his dick, twirling your tongue all around the bulb.
As you teased this concentrated area, you applied your unoccupied hand to his balls. You held them firmly, your fingers conforming to their shape.
You wrapped your lips around his tip, taking this sensitive part into your mouth. Rather than sucking, you continued to play your tongue against the head. This was coordinated to how you began to caress his balls.
“I’ve been trying to listen out for footsteps or whatever.” He told you, his voice containing none of the power that he had used to command the entire audience from his stage. “But you’re making it hard to care if someone’s coming or not.” He chuckled breathlessly. “Amongst the other things you’re making hard, baby…”
He had grown to the state of being fully erect, the firmness was impossible for you to not notice. You slipped your tongue under him and parted your lips a little wider. Then you moved and took more of him into your mouth, his shaft so hot as it almost filled your mouth.
You set your lips into a firm ring around him and started to work yourself back-and-forth. You established a rhythm, not rushing or trying to guide him into your throat yet. Even though he was moaning quietly, you knew he could get more worked up for you.
You gradually eased yourself back, until his dick slipped out of your mouth with a little pop sound. You hovered your mouth just above his cock and made a new sound as you spat onto him. He gasped and flinched, you loved how it felt to surprise him.
You used your hand to spread this new moisture across his length. You stroked him, faster than before. As you maintained this different tempo you leaned in and started to kiss his skin, exploring the area above his crotch.
He rubbed his fingers against your scalp, the other hand keeping your hair held taut. “You just have to make a mess, don't you, dirty whore?”
You kissed your way up, stopping about halfway between his crotch and his navel. At this spot you began to suck. You worked the skin between your teeth, not letting your tempo on his dick falter. He gasped in more ragged breaths.
As you were sucking on his skin, you were thinking about what he would be wearing on stage tomorrow night.
It was already picked: a pair of black, vinyl pants, which were very low rise. This area you were ravaging would be uncovered by the pants. Every audience member tomorrow night would be seeing your hickey. And he was too dazzled by your stroking to tell you to stop marking him.
“You really missed Daddy this much?” He asked. “I wasn’t even gone that long, but it’s turned you feral.”
You didn’t disagree with his perception, instead keeping your mouth occupied by creating a second hickey. You moved lower, and a little to the left this time. Closer to his cock, you sucked harder, feeling like you were getting away with something.
At the same time you were starting to give his balls brief squeezes, repeatedly tightening your hold then relaxing. You also showed him more intensity by going faster on his length. Occasionally you passed your fingers over his tip.
When you started to feel extra moisture and heat on his tip, you detached your mouth from his skin. Tasting his precum felt more important than making a really dark hickey.
You held your hand still on his cock, feeling it twitch in anticipation. You rubbed the flat of your tongue slowly across his tip, thoroughly collecting what was beading up here. You wrapped your lips around the head and he tried to stabilize himself by reaching a hand back for the wall.
“That’s good.” He quietly whined as you sucked on the tip.
Your hand on his dick went back into motion, stroking up-and-down his length while you kept your lips secured around the tip. He rocked back on his heels, now needing the complete support of the wall.
“Please don’t stop, please toy.” He said amongst other strangled noises.
The hand on your head gripped tighter, his fingers pressing firmly against your skin. You lifted your eyes, taking in the sight of him with his head tossed back. He was desperate now - all worked up and all yours. You savoured this view of him that only existed for you, because you had helped to create it.
Pride and lust combined inside of you, joining to create something more powerful. It was a cocktail that went straight to your head, inspiring you to stroke him faster.
“Fuck, you were right, you were so right, this couldn’t wait until we got back to the hotel.” He said. “I’ll never doubt you again.”
You relaxed your jaw and powered him into your mouth, delivering him quickly to the opening of your throat. You had been moving too fast for him to keep up with. Once he realised what had happened he made a surprised sound, not unlike a squeak.
“Oh my God, that’s good, that’s so, so good. Daddy’s girl knows exactly how to treat that cock.” He said, the compliments only adding to your current high.
You began to work your lips back-and-forth, sacrificing full lungs in the pursuit of hearing more private and needy sounds from him. You didn’t struggle to find a rhythm, establishing a motion you knew would keep him reduced down to just his primal desires. You clenched your thighs together, his passion so prevalent that it was affecting you, too.
Occasionally, you would end a pump by plunging him into your throat. You could give him brief but sharp increases in intensity. Each time this was greeted by him stringing together some curse words as you felt his dick pulse in your throat.
“Goddamn.” He groaned. “You’re going to be the… uh, ah- end of me.”
You knew that you were making a complete mess of your face. Your lipstick would be smeared beyond recognition, probably on your chin, thanks to his balls repeatedly making contact with it. The sporadic way your eyes started to water would be ruining the concealer placed under your eyes. Then there was the sweat and the adrenaline-fuelled blush.
So you had to make sure this was worth it. You bobbed your head at your fastest pace yet, your slicked lips keeping every movement smooth.
He desperately rasped. “You said you needed my cum in your throat and… yuh-you are gonna get it.” He snatched up a handful each of your hair. “Oh God, you’re gonna… I’m guh-... this load is going straight down your fuckin’ throat.”
Your heart was hammering, so high in your chest, as if his anticipation was contagious. You were thoroughly invested in getting to that moment where he fell apart for you.
Your scalp stung when he began to pull on your hair. He tugged the strands, controlling you to take him back to that deep point again-and-again. But the hints of pain didn’t distract or bother you. In fact, it only added to the keen heat between your thighs.
You guessed that now was the time to try for the big finish. You hollowed your cheeks around his length, sucking determinedly. You plunged his head into your throat at the same time. As his hands pulled on your hair, you kept yourself like this, uninterested in easing off.
“Oh, you little slut, you fucking slut, you… oh g-God.” He babbled and you could feel his legs were shaking.
Your lungs were burning for air. The pressure in your throat was treading up to the territory of being too much to take. Your throat involuntarily spasmed, but you didn’t quit sucking, even when tears beaded in the corners of your eyes.
All too soon another spasm was happening. Feeling your throat clamp around him made you want to cough.
But before any action was required from you, he reached the orgasmic peak. You relaxed your cheeks when you felt the prize of his thick cum sliding into your throat. You eased yourself back ever-so-slightly as he continued to hold your hair taut.
“Oh my God, oh God, oh God.” He was moaning as his body stilled.
You opened your eyes, studying his reactions as you swallowed everything his cock shot out. Immense relief was flooding into you as you drew in deep breaths through your nostrils. Watching the tension snap for him gave you a sense of release - surely miniscule compared to what he was experiencing. Nevertheless, there was satisfaction for you to enjoy.
“Wow, baby. You brought out my feral side.” He said as you gradually eased his cock out of your mouth. “I guess I needed that more than I realised. You have a power over me like that.”
You were smiling as you used both hands to collect the moisture around your mouth. “And I didn’t have to try to make it romantic.”
“I can’t believe we didn’t get caught.” He said, hurrying to pull his pants up and conceal his dick again.
“Yep, the whole thing went down without a hitch.” You said.
He offered you a hand and you started to stand up. Once you were high enough, he made an attempt at smoothing your hair. “Are you okay? I wasn’t too rough, was I?”
“Uh-uh.” You said with a shake of your head. “And you better still have more of that feral energy, because it’s my fuckin’ turn when we get back to the hotel.”
So here's a little mafia AU, I couldn't see anything else when I saw him in the maserati ad (oh mah god).
I did that last may, I don’t know if I’ll do a second part for now. I don’t have time, plus I wanna see if it reaches a public.
Anyway, enjoy !
Words count : 11k
Being a student wasn't too tough, especially when you adored what you were studying. As a French student specializing in pathology, it always raised a few eyebrows when you introduced yourself as someone fixated on uncovering the stories of the deceased. But for you, it was a passion, especially when it involved unraveling the mysteries behind crimes. You had a unique background; born in Florencia, you were half French and half Italian. Shortly after your birth, your mother persuaded your father to relocate to Paris, where her family resided. Despite the emotional strain it placed on your father to leave his homeland, he agreed, and thus, you grew up as a French girl with a sprinkle of Italian influence, thanks to your father's heritage. Summers were spent in Italy, soaking up the culture and basking in the warmth of your Italian roots. Lately, however, you found yourself succumbing to a creeping sense of burnout, a consequence of pushing yourself too hard. Recognizing the signs, your parents intervened and decided it was time for a change of scenery. Reluctantly, you accepted their decision, grumbling all the way, but secretly acknowledging the necessity of a break. So, with a mix of protest and resignation, you boarded a plane in Paris bound for Rome, where your sweet grandmother awaited. Despite your initial resistance, deep down, you knew that this trip held the promise of much-needed rejuvenation and a chance to reconnect with your Italian heritage.
As you scanned the bustling crowd of people eagerly awaiting their loved ones at the gates, your heart quickened with anticipation. Amidst the sea of faces, you finally spotted her, your grandmother, her hand waving above the throng as she pushed through the crowd, calling out your name in that unmistakable Italian tone that echoed with memories of your father. It had been five long years since you last saw her, the summers of your youth now overshadowed by the demands of your studies. You navigated your way through the crowd, dragging your luggage behind you, and soon found yourself enveloped in her warm embrace. Beside her stood one of your dad's cousins, ready to assist with your luggage. With a smile, he took your bags, and your grandmother immediately took your hand, leading you through the bustling airport towards her car.There it was, the familiar sight of her sweet little red car, a relic from your childhood that had somehow defied the odds and continued to run. You chuckled to yourself, thinking that surely by now the old motor would have given out, but it seemed to possess a stubborn resilience, much like your grandmother herself. Together, you all climbed into the car, settling into the well-worn seats as your grandmother embarked on a flurry of questions, each one delivered in rapid-fire Italian. Gratefully, you responded, slipping effortlessly back into the rhythms of the language, feeling a sense of comfort wash over you as you embarked on the journey towards your grandmother's house.
Stepping out of the car, you took a moment to absorb the familiar sights and sounds of your grandmother's neighborhood. The air was filled with the gentle hum of life, the scent of Italian cuisine wafting from nearby kitchens, and the soft chatter of neighbors exchanging pleasantries. It was as if time stood still in this quaint corner of Rome, untouched by the passage of years.Your grandmother tossed you the keys with a knowing smile, urging her nephew to hasten with your luggage. With a grateful nod, you caught the keys and made your way towards the small house that held so many memories. It stood as a testament to your grandmother's resilience and love, where she had raised not only her own children but also helped shape the lives of her grandchildren. Entering the cozy abode, you were greeted by the familiar sights and smells of home. The walls seemed to echo with the laughter of generations past, the worn furniture bearing witness to countless family gatherings and shared meals. This was the place where your father had grown up, where your own roots were firmly planted in the rich soil of family tradition and love.
Ascending the stairs to what used to be the girls' room but was now your vacation sanctuary, you couldn't help but notice how much smaller it seemed now. The bed, though old and well-used, still exuded a comforting coziness that beckoned you to rest. Your eyes wandered to the photos adorning the walls, each one a precious memento of summers spent in the embrace of family and tradition.
A dress lay delicately atop the bed, accompanied by a note from your grandmother. "Spero che sia la tua taglia," it read. You couldn't help but smile at her straightforwardness. The dress, a beautiful floral creation, seemed to beckon to you, offering a reprieve from the mundanity of your current attire. With a quick shower, you slipped into the garment, marveling at how perfectly it fit as if it were tailor-made for you. The fabric flowed around you with effortless grace, just as you liked it. Admiring your reflection in the mirror, you couldn't help but marvel at your grandmother's intuition. How had she known the exact size to choose? Lost in thought, you were startled by her voice calling you downstairs to greet some of her sisters. Descending the stairs, you found yourself enveloped in a whirlwind of Italian hospitality, as cousins and uncles filled every corner of the house. From the kitchen to the living room, the dining room to the garden, the air buzzed with animated conversations and laughter, reminiscent of the familial warmth you had grown accustomed to in France. Embracing each of your relatives in turn, you found yourself slipping effortlessly back into the rhythms of Italian conversation, your language skills returning with each passing moment.
As your grandmother managed to usher out the last of the visiting relatives with her characteristic determination, you both finally found a moment of solitude. Taking a sip of water to quench your thirst, she broached the idea of taking a stroll through the city before the sun set. "Vuoi fare un giro per la città prima che tramonti il sole? Ho alcuni posti da mostrarti," she proposed, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. The idea of exploring Rome with her filled you with excitement, and you readily agreed. Quickly slipping on a pair of shoes, you followed her lead as you ventured out into the bustling streets of Rome. It felt like a journey back in time as she guided you to places you had frequented as a child, from the serene park where you had played to the majestic fountain where you had made countless wishes. Your eyes lit up with delight when you spotted a vendor selling gelato, and before you could protest, your grandmother was already making her way towards the tempting display. "Prendiamone un po'," she declared with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Nonna! Non è necessario..." you began to protest, but she silenced you with a wave of her hand. "Silenzio, voglio anch'io il gelato," she insisted, her infectious energy contagious as she stood there, undeterred by any protestations. You couldn't help but smile at her antics, marveling at her unwavering spirit and zest for life. Despite the passage of time, she remained a beacon of strength and vitality, a reminder of the enduring bonds of family and the joy found in the simple pleasures of life.
An unexpected collision jolted you out of your reverie, and as you turned to voice your protest, you found yourself face to face with a stranger. Taller than you, with long sandy blond hair that cascaded around his tired blue eyes, he cut an enigmatic figure against the backdrop of the bustling street. Dressed in black despite the sweltering heat, he seemed out of place, an anomaly amidst the vibrant colors of Rome. His gaze briefly met yours, sending a shiver down your spine before he uttered a simple "scusi" and continued on his way, leaving you standing there, momentarily stunned. As he disappeared into the nearby alley, a cold chill lingered in the air, and you realized you had been holding your breath without even realizing it. Glancing back at the alley where he had vanished, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in the pit of your stomach. Who was he, and why did his presence leave such a lingering sense of disquiet?
Shaking your head to dispel the lingering unease, you turned back to your grandmother, who had paused to wait for you.
"Everything okay, cara?" she asked, her brow furrowing with concern as she noticed the slight tremor in your voice.You nodded, forcing a reassuring smile. "Just a little startled, nonna. Let's keep going," you replied, eager to put the strange encounter behind you. But despite your attempts to brush it off, the memory of the man with the tired blue eyes lingered in the back of your mind, casting a shadow over the rest of your evening stroll through the streets of Rome.
A few days had passed since the unsettling encounter on the street, and now it was Friday evening, and you found yourself dining with your grandmother. When she declared, "Andare fuori stasera," it wasn't a suggestion but a command, and you knew better than to argue. Anticipating your hesitation, she preemptively addressed your concerns, telling you, "Ho lasciato qualcosa sul tuo letto, mettitelo e non svegliarmi quando torni," before whisking away your plate with a playful wink. You couldn't help but smile at her knowing gesture as you hurried upstairs. There, laid out on your bed, was a stunning silver sparkly dress accompanied by matching heels. It wasn't your typical attire, but you knew better than to refuse your grandmother's fashion choices. Trying it on, you marveled once again at how perfectly it fit, as if it were tailor-made for you. With your outfit sorted, you turned your attention to finding a suitable destination for the evening. A quick search led you to The Marlena, a nightclub that seemed both selective and promising. Though your intention wasn't to meet someone, but rather to enjoy the company of friends and lose yourself in the rhythm of the music. Applying makeup, you focused on accentuating your eyes, knowing that the dim lighting of the club would work in your favor. With your preparations complete, you felt a surge of excitement coursing through you as you prepared to embark on a uber towards a night of adventure and possibility.
The sight of The Marlena nightclub left you breathless, its façade a stunning amalgamation of gold, black, and red hues that beckoned to revelers from far and wide. A long queue of eager patrons awaited entry, flanked by imposing bouncers guarding the entrance. However, your moment of awe was abruptly interrupted as someone collided with you, causing you to drop your bag. Turning to confront the source of the disturbance, you were met with a drunken girl who hurled curses at you in Italian before being forcibly ejected from the club by the bouncers. As you stooped to retrieve your bag, you noticed a VIP badge lying next to it. For a moment, you contemplated returning it to the girl, but the combination of the long queue, the insult, and perhaps a bit of sinful temptation led you to reconsider. With a decisive gesture, you pocketed the badge and confidently presented yourself at the VIP line. The bouncer eyed you skeptically, assessing your appearance and the badge you offered. Holding his gaze with unwavering determination, you silently dared him to refuse you entry. After a tense moment, he relented, granting you access with a stern warning: "No photos inside, or out forever." With a nod of acknowledgment, you stepped through the velvet ropes, leaving behind the clamor of the crowd and stepping into the pulsating heart of The Marlene. Tonight, you would embrace the thrill of the forbidden, relishing in the excitement of the unknown as you surrendered yourself to the allure of the night.
As you explored the expansive interior of The Marlena, you couldn't help but be captivated by its grandeur. Multiple levels towered above you, each offering a unique perspective of the bustling nightclub below. Your eyes lingered on the dance floor, where revelers moved in synchrony to the pulsating rhythm of the music, their movements exuding a raw energy that seemed to infuse the very air. However, your newfound VIP status afforded you a glimpse into a world beyond the ordinary. Your gaze was drawn to a staircase marked "VIP," leading to a secluded level adorned with a magnificent glass balcony.
Your eyes followed the staircase that led to the VIP section, tracing its path until they settled on a secluded level with a grand glass balcony. There, perched like an angel surveying the chaos below, was a blond girl with an air of both innocence and mischief. Her gaze met yours, and you found yourself captivated by the intensity of her blue eyes, like she knew people were watching and she was enjoying it. She exuded an otherworldly aura, her wavy blond hair framing her face in a halo of light. Yet, despite her angelic appearance, there was a hint of darkness in the way she carried herself, a subtle defiance that added to her allure. As she smirked in amusement at your mutual acknowledgment, you realized that she, like you, was not a typical Italian but someone from elsewhere. In that fleeting moment of connection, you nodded in acknowledgment, a silent understanding passing between you. However, before you could dwell further on the enigmatic encounter, another woman with short brown hair appeared and kissed the blond girl, breaking the spell. With a determined resolve, you tore your gaze away and made your way towards the VIP section, eager to explore the levels beyond the dance floor and delve deeper into the mysteries of the night. There was an undeniable allure to the ethereal atmosphere of the upper levels, and you were ready to embrace whatever secrets they held.
Ascending the stairs into the VIP section felt like stepping into another realm entirely, one where opulence and extravagance reigned supreme. Every surface was adorned with luxurious materials-leather, velvet, and gold-that spoke of wealth beyond measure. It was a stark contrast to the chaos of the dance floor below, and for a moment, you felt like a mere pauper in comparison. However, you refused to let yourself be intimidated by the grandeur surrounding you. With a determined stride, you entered the lavish space, adorned in your own semblance of elegance with your black lace gloves. Despite your efforts to blend in, you couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider in this world where people seemed to care only for themselves. As you observed the elite gathering, you noticed that they were engaged in leisurely pursuits-talking, gambling, smoking, and sipping on expensive drinks. It was a scene straight out of a decadent fantasy, where indulgence knew no bounds and money flowed like water. Yet, amidst the extravagance, there lingered an unspoken question: where did all this wealth come from?Making your way towards the glass balcony, you found yourself drawn to the breathtaking view it offered. From this elevated vantage point, you could see the dance floor below, where the masses moved like mere mortals in comparison to the gods of the VIP section above. It was a stark reminder of the stark divide between the haves and the have-nots, a world where money wielded power beyond measure. Lost in contemplation, you couldn't help but wonder about the origins of this wealth and the true cost of such decadence. But for now, you pushed aside your thoughts and allowed yourself to be swept away by the allure of the night, embracing the intoxicating atmosphere of luxury and excess as you navigated the intricate web of intrigue and desire that surrounded you.
Feeling a sense of detachment from the opulent surroundings of the VIP section, you resolved to immerse yourself in the scene unfolding before you. However, you couldn't shake the feeling of being out of place, an intruder in a world where every move seemed orchestrated with precision. As you observed the elite clientele around you, you couldn't help but notice that you were the only one without a drink in hand. Determined to blend in, you made your way to the bar and ordered a Negroni, watching intently as the skilled bartender prepared your drink with practiced expertise. It was as if every action in the room was meticulously calculated, as though everyone was on edge, fearing the gaze of some unseen authority figure-perhaps the owner of this lavish establishment. Your gaze wandered, and you couldn't help but notice a room concealed behind a heavy velvet curtain. Intrigued, you turned to the bartender and inquired about its purpose. His raised eyebrow and teasing tone suggested that you were indeed new to this environment. "It's where the owner hosts his gambling sessions," he explained casually, as if it were an everyday occurrence. You strained to catch a glimpse of the mysterious room, and as someone slipped through the curtain, the bartender warned you against staring too intently. "Don't stare too much, you'll be hypnotized to go in," he remarked with a hint of warning in his voice. Perplexed, you pressed him for more information."People come here with financial troubles, hoping to win against the owner," he elaborated, his voice tinged with a note of caution. "But if they lose, the owner claims a stake in their existence, ensuring that they are forever indebted to him." His words hung in the air, casting a shadow over the seemingly glamorous façade of the nightclub. As he resumed his duties, wiping down a glass with practiced ease, you couldn't help but feel a chill creep down your spine. The allure of the VIP section suddenly seemed less enticing, overshadowed by the darker undercurrents that lurked beneath the surface.
The bartender's words sent a chill down your spine, shattering the illusion of glamour that had initially drawn you into this world of excess. As you attempted to process his warning, he continued, his tone grave and knowing. "Let me tell you, that usually doesn't end well," he cautioned, his words echoing ominously in the air. It was a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of this seemingly opulent world.Lost in thought, you began to study the faces around you, contemplating the hidden struggles and desires that drove these individuals to seek refuge in the intoxicating allure of the nightclub. However, before you could delve deeper into your observations, the bartender interrupted, his voice cutting through your reverie. "Don't get me wrong, most people here know better than to play the owner's game," he explained, his gaze piercing through your facade with unsettling clarity. "The players are usually from your world, the downstairs level." His words struck a nerve, and you felt a surge of panic rising within you as you realized that your cover had been blown. How could he have known? "The downstairs level- how did you-" you began, but the bartender's smirk quickly faded into a sober expression. "I know girls like you," he replied cryptically, his eyes reflecting a lifetime of experiences that you could only begin to imagine. "And trust me, sweetheart, there's only one winner in the game you're currently playing. And right now, you're not winning. Get out of here and don't look back." With a sense of urgency, he slid your drink across the bar towards you, his gesture a silent command to leave before it was too late. "Trust me," he added, his voice tinged with a note of solemnity, "coming from a guy who has seen way too many things around here. On the house." And with that, he turned away, attending to another patron, leaving you to grapple with the unsettling realization that you had stumbled into a world far more dangerous than you had ever imagined.
As you sipped your Negroni, contemplating your next move, you were interrupted by the intrusive presence of a man who seemed to exude entitlement with every fiber of his being. His overly confident smile and condescending tone immediately put you on edge, a reminder of the type of men you had encountered all too often in this world of privilege and excess."Buonasera signorina," he greeted you with a singsong lilt, his words dripping with arrogance. You forced a polite smile in response, though every fiber of your being rebelled against the notion of engaging with him any further. "Good evening, sir," you replied tersely, hoping to convey your lack of interest in further conversation. However, his smile only widened in response, and you cursed yourself for responding at all. "So, you can speak," he remarked, his tone laced with amusement. "I've been watching you, and you haven't spoken a word since you arrived." Your heart sank at the realization that you had become the subject of scrutiny among the elite patrons of the nightclub. It was a stark reminder of the scrutiny and judgment that accompanied every move in this world of wealth and privilege. "It's because I only speak when necessary," you retorted, your words tinged with thinly veiled disdain. "No need to waste oxygen on meaningless conversations."
The man's smile faltered for a moment, his confidence momentarily shaken by your blunt response. However, he quickly regained his composure, his eyes narrowing as he studied you intently. "A woman of few words, I see," he mused, his tone laced with thinly veiled condescension. "Perhaps you're more interesting than you appear." You bristled at his insinuation, but before you could formulate a response, he extended his hand towards you. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Alessandro," he declared, his voice smooth and practiced. Reluctantly, you accepted his handshake, inwardly cursing your predicament. It seemed that the night was far from over, and you found yourself reluctantly drawn into a conversation with a man whose intentions remained shrouded in mystery.
"A negroni ? Usually ladies take some red wine." The man's teasing remark about your choice of drink made you feel even more uneasy, as if he were probing for vulnerabilities to exploit. You tried to maintain your composure, but his proximity and persistent questioning made you feel increasingly uncomfortable. "Maybe because I'm not like any lady," you retorted, hoping to deter his advances, but to your dismay, it seemed to have the opposite effect. Instead of backing off, he leaned in closer, his presence invading your personal space. "Oh really? I'd like to know more about that," he replied, his tone dripping with intrigue as he closed the distance between you. You forced a smile, trying to mask your unease as you reluctantly engaged in conversation. "But you never told me your name, sweet one," he continued, seemingly oblivious to—or perhaps intentionally ignoring—your attempts to create distance. "I'm Y/n," you responded curtly, hoping to maintain a sense of detachment while still playing along with his game. However, his response only served to deepen your discomfort. "Y/n... Well, allow me to share a drink with you," he declared. Before you could protest, he slid into the seat beside you, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Feeling increasingly trapped, you took a sip of your Negroni in an attempt to steady your nerves. His next comment caught you off guard, causing you to almost choke on your drink. "Something on my face?" you asked, trying to maintain a semblance of composure despite the rising sense of panic. "No, you just don't look like you're from around here," he remarked casually, his words sending a chill down your spine. It seemed that everyone in this world had a radar for outsiders, and you were beginning to realize that blending in might be harder than you had initially anticipated.
"What tells you that ?" you try to keep your voice steady. "I don't know, it comes off of your irresistible aura." He answers winking. As Alessandro continued to flirt with you, his words veiled in charm but his intentions unmistakably predatory, you searched desperately for an escape route. The layout of the nightclub offered no respite—the restrooms were located on the opposite side of the room, far from the exit, and you lacked the pretext of meeting friends to justify your departure. Trapped in this unwanted exchange, you struggled to maintain a façade of composure, all the while cursing your predicament.
"Why don't you tell me more about yourself, Alessandro?" you interjected, hoping to redirect the conversation and buy yourself some time. You knew all too well that men like him loved to talk about themselves, and you hoped that indulging his ego might provide you with an opportunity to slip away unnoticed. “Well, I'm the son of a caporegime," he began, his tone casual as if discussing the weather. Mentions of being the son of a "caporegime" left you puzzled, but you dared not ask for clarification, fearing that it might expose your ignorance and blow your cover. Instead, you listened attentively as he regaled you with tales of his family's wealth and influence, boasting of their ownership of Italian vineyards and their esteemed status among the top producers of wine in the world. Throughout his monologue, Alessandro's hand wandered, subtly but persistently, until it came to rest on your knee. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you resisted the urge to recoil, forcing yourself to maintain a neutral expression even as his fingers began to inch upward, tracing a path along your thigh. Despite your mounting discomfort, you knew that any overt rejection or attempt to escape could provoke a dangerous reaction from Alessandro. So, with a sense of resignation, you continued to feign interest in his stories, all the while plotting your next move and praying for an opportunity to extricate yourself from his grasp.
Feeling increasingly cornered by Alessandro's advances, you desperately searched for a way to escape his grasp. The bartender, who had offered a brief respite from Alessandro's unwelcome attention, was nowhere to be found, leaving you feeling utterly alone and vulnerable in this unfamiliar environment. Your heart raced as Alessandro called your name, his voice dripping with arrogance and entitlement. Startled, you turned to face him, hoping to maintain a façade of composure despite the rising sense of panic within you. "I'm sorry?" you replied, your voice trembling slightly as you struggled to find the right words to rebuff his advances. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he repeated his proposition, his hand squeezing your thigh possessively. "You could come and see my manor next to the vines," he murmured, his words laced with a thinly veiled threat. "I'm sure the view would please you." Panic surged through you as he continued to press closer, his proximity suffocating. "N-No, that wouldn't be necessary," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you attempted to maintain a semblance of composure. But Alessandro seemed undeterred by your feeble protestations, his confidence only growing as he whispered in your ear, his words sending a shiver of revulsion down your spine. "Don't play hard, bella," he whispered, his hand grazing up your thigh as he insinuated his intentions. "I have a room upstairs, but I don't remember the number. Wanna help me find it?" You recoiled at his touch, feeling utterly helpless and petrified by the realization of your predicament. Trapped in this dangerous game with no means of escape, you struggled to find a way out of this nightmare, praying for a miracle to intervene and rescue you from Alessandro's clutches.
Suddenly, a throat cleared behind you, causing Alessandro to halt his advances and visibly tense. His expression shifted from annoyance to fear as he turned to face the source of the interruption, ready to curse whoever dared to intrude on his plans. But as he caught sight of the figure behind you, his fiery demeanor melted away, leaving him pale and trembling. As Alessandro's demeanor shifted from aggression to abject fear, you felt a surge of relief wash over you at the arrival of this mysterious figure. With Alessandro's attention now diverted, you seized the opportunity to distance yourself from him, discreetly inching away from his grasp.
"D-Don..." he stammered out, his voice barely above a whisper as he retreated from you, his bravado crumbling in the presence of the newcomer. The title sparked a flicker of recognition in your mind, but before you could fully grasp its significance, the man behind you spoke up. "I'm surprised to see you here, Ales," he remarked, his voice grave and tinged with a pronounced Italian accent. "I thought I made it clear to your father that you shouldn't be anywhere near my business. Or would you dare to disobey me?" Alessandro's response was immediate and deferential, his words choked out as if each syllable caused him physical pain. "Of course not, boss! I was only passing by to deliver an envelope to a capo," he explained hastily, his tone betraying a mixture of fear and regret.
You watched in stunned silence as the power dynamics shifted before your eyes, realizing that you had unwittingly stumbled into a confrontation between two powerful figures in this shadowy world. As the gravity of the situation sank in, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief mingled with apprehension, uncertain of what lay ahead in this dangerous game of power and intrigue.
You didn't dare to turn around to face your savior, afraid to intrude on the unfolding confrontation between him and Alessandro. Instead, you remained rooted in place, listening intently as the man's commanding voice filled the air, his words carrying a weight of authority that left no room for argument. "Then what are you still doing here? Bothering one of my guests, I might add," he remarked, his tone dropping to a lower octave, sending a shiver down your spine. Alessandro attempted to stammer out some words of excuse, but his feeble protests were quickly dismissed by the man's stern rebuke. Summoning your courage, you finally turned around to face your savior, your breath catching in your throat as you took in his commanding presence.
He stood before you, tall and statuesque, his dark hair slicked back in a tousled style that added to his rugged charm. His attire exuded an effortless sophistication, a black shirt with a few buttons undone hinting at a casual elegance that suited him perfectly. But it was his eyes that drew you in, pools of molten gold that sparkled with intelligence and depth, captivating you with their intensity. There was a warmth in his gaze, an invitation to trust and confide, that made you feel instantly at ease in his presence. As you observed him, you couldn't help but be struck by his aura of charisma, a magnetic energy that seemed to radiate from every pore. Yet, beneath the surface, there was a hint of vulnerability, a furrowed brow that spoke of inner turmoil and conflict. Despite the gravity of the situation, there was an undeniable magnetism about him, a captivating allure that left you breathless in his presence. And as you met his gaze, you couldn't help but feel a stirring within your soul, a sense of connection that transcended words and spoke to something deeper within you.
As your savior's gaze briefly crossed yours, you detected a subtle shift in his expression, a fleeting glimpse of something indefinable that seemed to flicker and fade in an instant. But before you could decipher the meaning behind the change, his eyes grew dark once more as he assessed the scene before him with a cool detachment. With a nod towards one of the men at his side, he gave a silent command, and they moved swiftly to handle the situation. Alessandro was roughly seized by the shoulder, his protests falling on deaf ears as he was dragged away from the scene. You watched in silence as he disappeared from view, feeling a mixture of relief and unease at the abrupt turn of events. As the commotion died down and the party resumed its festivities, you couldn't help but feel a sense of embarrassment wash over you. All eyes seemed to be on you, and you wished nothing more than to disappear into the shadows and escape the scrutiny of the crowd. Sensing your discomfort, your savior turned his attention back to you, his demeanor softened slightly as he addressed you directly. "I'm sorry he bothered you," he apologized, his voice tinged with genuine concern. "I had made sure my bouncers wouldn't let him in. Turns out I wasn't specific enough." Your savior's steely gaze bore down on one of his bodyguards, who lowered his eyes in shame under the weight of his employer's disapproval.
You felt a pang of sympathy for the man as he apologized, recognizing that he was shouldering the responsibility for his subordinates' oversight. However, you quickly reminded yourself of the role you needed to play and the necessity of leaving as soon as possible without causing offense. "It's no worries, truly," you reassured him, offering a small smile of gratitude for his concern. You reached for your Negroni, intending to take a sip to calm your nerves. As you prepared to take a sip of your Negroni, a hand suddenly snatched the glass from your grasp, causing you to startle in surprise. You looked up to see your savior's concerned expression as he inspected the contents of the drink. "No, it's spiked," he stated firmly, his voice laced with urgency as he gently placed the glass back onto the table. With practiced efficiency, he produced a small vial containing a red powder and poured it into your drink, the telltale sign of an unwanted substance detected.
Your stomach churned with disgust and horror as you realized the implications of his actions. Alessandro must have spiked your drink while you were distracted, a sinister attempt to take advantage of your vulnerability. The thought sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards your savior for intervening before it was too late.With a grimace of disgust, you pushed the tainted drink aside, feeling a wave of revulsion wash over you at the mere thought of consuming it. In that moment, you were acutely aware of the danger lurking in the shadows of this glamorous facade, and you resolved to remain vigilant and cautious in this unfamiliar world of power and intrigue.
You blushed at your own clumsiness, feeling embarrassed by your lack of awareness in such a sophisticated setting. Turning back to your savior, you struggled to find the right words to express your gratitude, stumbling over your words as you realized you didn't even know his name. "Thank you, again... sir, Don..." you began, your voice trailing off uncertainly as you faltered over his title. His reaction caught you off guard, his eyes widening before he erupted into a warm, hearty laugh that filled the air with its infectious warmth. "No need for such formalities, signora," he reassured you, his laughter subsiding into a gentle chuckle as he regarded you with amusement. Your cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson at his easy demeanor, feeling out of place amidst his effortless charm. "You're not used to these kinds of events, are you?" he asked softly, his tone now gentle and understanding, a stark contrast to his previous stern demeanor. You shook your head slightly, feeling a pang of insecurity at being so transparently out of your depth. "No," you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you avoided his gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable in his presence. He simply nodded in understanding, his expression sympathetic as he reassured you with a gentle smile. "I figured. But don't worry, people around us are just putting on airs. They may act like they know what they're doing, but deep down, they're just as unsure as you are." His words offered a small comfort, easing some of the tension that had coiled in your stomach. You met his gaze once more, finding solace in the warmth and kindness reflected in his eyes.
"And I won't bite you, miss..." he trailed off, waiting for you to fill in the blank. And as he waited patiently for your response, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of gratitude towards this enigmatic stranger who had shown you nothing but kindness and understanding in your moment of need.
As the need for an excuse pressed upon you, the memory of the badge flashed in your mind, providing you with a convenient alias: Bianca Mazzoti. Gathering your wits, you confidently supplied the name to your savior. "Mazzoti, Y/n Mazzoti," you declared, hoping to deflect any further inquiries with a semblance of authority. He nodded thoughtfully, seemingly lost in contemplation. "I had no idea Mazzoti had another daughter. You don't look anything like Bianca," he remarked, his gaze piercing as he studied you intently. You maintained your composure, weaving a web of lies with practiced ease. "Mr. Mazzoti adopted me when I was sixteen. I only take Bianca's place when she cannot attend to certain obligations," you explained smoothly, your words flowing like silk.His curiosity seemed piqued by your revelation, prompting him to delve deeper into your past. "Which explains why you're not used to this. Where were you born? I sense a familiar accent," he inquired, his tone gentle yet probing. The truth was tempting, but you knew better than to reveal your true origins in this precarious situation. Instead, you offered a half-truth, drawing upon your French heritage for a convincing answer. "Florence," you replied, the name slipping effortlessly from your lips. It wasn't a complete lie, but it veiled the truth behind a facade of ambiguity. "La Bella Firenze," he mused in agreement, his expression thoughtful as he contemplated your response. You breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the reprieve as you navigated the delicate dance of deception in this intricate game of intrigue.
As the realization dawned upon you that you still did not know his name, you decided to take a bold step and inquire about it. After all, if he had asked for your name, it seemed only fair that he reciprocate. "You asked me my name. Wouldn't it be formal for you to give me yours?" you ventured cautiously, aware of the potential risk in probing further. His men visibly tensed at your words, their eyes darting nervously as they awaited his response.His gaze intensified, the golden flecks in his eyes shimmering with an otherworldly brilliance as he regarded you with a penetrating stare. For a moment, the air crackled with tension, the weight of his scrutiny bearing down upon you like a heavy cloak. Finally, he spoke, his voice resonating with quiet authority as he revealed his name to you. "You can call me Damiano," he declared, his words carrying a weight of significance that left you breathless with anticipation.You released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his response. Nodding in acknowledgement, you mentally filed away his name, committing it to memory for future reference.In a swift motion, he flicked his finger, summoning a nearby barman who swiftly brought two cups of champagne to the table. You watched in astonishment as the bartender moved with lightning speed, awed by the seamless efficiency with which Damiano commanded the room.As you sipped your champagne, you couldn't help but marvel at the sheer power and presence that emanated from Damiano. Like Hades presiding over the realm of the underworld, he seemed to wield an invisible authority that permeated every corner of the room. The comparison to Hades sparked a curious thought in your mind, and as you studied Damiano's flawless features—the dark eyes, the tousled hair, the enigmatic smile—you couldn't help but see echoes of the mythical deity in his demeanor. There was a certain allure to him, a magnetic charisma that drew you in and left you captivated by his enigmatic presence.
As you zoned out, lost in your thoughts, Damiano's voice jolted you back to the present moment. You blinked, realizing that you had been staring at him absentmindedly. Flustered, you attempted to regain your composure. "Oh, nothing, just thinking," you stammered out, hoping to mask your momentary lapse in attention. Damiano's lips twitched with amusement, and he coughed lightly to hide a laugh before shifting the conversation to a different topic. "So you're only here to replace Bianca. What do you do in life?" he inquired, his gaze fixed intently on you as he awaited your response. “I-I’m a violinist.” That wasn’t truly a lie. You were one, and was part of an orchestra. But your main life was being a student, but he didn’t need to know that.
Damiano's eyes flicked down to your fingertips, where faint dents marred the skin—a telltale sign of years spent mastering the instrument. His keen observation did not go unnoticed, and you couldn't help but tense slightly at his perceptive gaze. "Which explains the small dents on your fingertips. It could be mistaken for the calluses of a habitual gun holder," he remarked casually, his words sending a chill down your spine. The implication behind his observation was clear, and you found yourself growing increasingly wary of this enigmatic man before you. As a future forensic doctor, you were well-versed in analyzing physical evidence, but to have your own marks scrutinized in such a manner by a simple nightclub CEO left you feeling unsettled.
"Usually, people don't pick up on it," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to mask your unease. "Are you perhaps a musician too?" you ventured, hoping to divert the conversation away from his unsettling observation. Damiano took a sip of his drink, his expression unreadable as he considered your question. "Some of my close friends would say so. My best musical arm would be my voice," he answered cryptically, his words tinged with a hint of mystery. You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Damiano than met the eye. As you studied him, you couldn't help but wonder about the secrets that lurked beneath his polished exterior, and the true extent of his power and influence in this shadowy world of intrigue and deception. "Ooh, a singer?" you echoed, the hint of amusement in Damiano's tone contagious as you chuckled softly along with him. His attention remained focused on the crowd, his gaze sweeping over the scene before him with a sense of quiet contemplation.
"What about you? What led you to become the manager of such an intriguing place?" you inquired, curiosity lacing your words as you watched him closely, eager to unravel the mystery behind this enigmatic figure. Damiano didn't bother to look back at you as he spoke, his attention still fixed on the intricate details of the nightclub's structure. A slight smirk tugged at his lips, hinting at a deeper layer of amusement beneath his composed exterior. "I like extravagance, as you may now know," he began, his voice carrying a note of wistfulness as he spoke. "But I also find people of the night more intriguing. The night is a place where despair creeps in, and people let their masks fall. I love to be here and watch. It's like trapping flowers as they close in on themselves."His words sent a shiver down your spine, the imagery of darkness and deception intertwining with a sense of morbid fascination. It brought to mind the hidden rooms behind the curtains, the secrets that lurked within their shadows. "You're talking about the rooms behind the curtains?" you ventured, your gaze flicking back to the concealed alcove that the bartender had mentioned earlier. Damiano's gaze snapped back to you, his eyes darker than ever as a devilish smile played at the corners of his lips. "Precisely. But I'd be pained to find you there," he remarked cryptically, his words tinged with a hint of warning that sent a chill down your spine.You tilted your head in confusion, your mind racing with questions as you tried to decipher the meaning behind his enigmatic words.
"How so?" you pressed, your curiosity piqued by Damiano's cryptic remarks. He took another sip of his drink, his gaze distant as he contemplated his response. "People who go there are despaired, Y/n," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of solemnity. "I've encountered such great sorrow that hides behind the veneer of wealth. Sometimes, they feel they have no other option but to seek me out." You found his words bold, the stark admission of human suffering amidst the opulence of the nightclub's surroundings leaving a bitter taste in your mouth."And you let them lose your challenge?" you couldn't help but ask, your voice tinged with skepticism. Damiano's gaze shifted to meet yours, his eyes taking on a stormy hue as he regarded you with a mixture of intensity and resolve. "I always give them a chance to win, don't ever doubt it," he replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I'm not a man who traps." You held back a scoff at his words, unconvinced by his assurances. "So you're a saint?" you couldn't help but challenge him, the skepticism evident in your voice. For a moment, Damiano seemed taken aback by your question, his expression momentarily faltering as he searched for the right words. He opened and closed his mouth, his gaze flicking down to his drink before meeting yours once more."I don't think you could say that," he finally replied, his tone measured as he chose his words carefully. "But I have my own morals and values." His response left you with more questions than answers, the enigma of Damiano's character deepening with each passing moment. As you studied him, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to him than met the eye, and that beneath his composed exterior lay a complexity that defied easy categorization.
As you took a deep breath to calm yourself, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. You realized you had been unfair to Damiano, judging him based on preconceived notions without truly understanding the complexities of his character. With a sense of regret weighing heavily on your shoulders, you turned your attention back to the bustling crowd, allowing yourself a moment to bask in the ambiance of the night."And do people often win?" you asked softly, breaking the silence that had settled between you. Damiano's smile was enigmatic as he met your gaze, his eyes holding a glint of amusement as if he knew something you didn't."Not really. It only happened once, years ago when the club was just new," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia as he spoke. There was a distant look in his eyes, as if he were lost in the memories of times long past."And did it cost you a lot?" you inquired, your curiosity piqued by the hint of mystery in his words.Damiano let out a chuckle, his laughter carrying a warmth that belied the severity of his past. "Ah, that bastard did cost me a lot," he admitted with a wry smile, shaking his head slightly. "But most of all, he became my best friend after this."You couldn't help but smile at the unexpected turn of events, the realization dawning on you that there was more to Damiano than met the eye. Despite the darkness that seemed to surround him, there was a glimmer of humanity beneath the surface, a warmth that shone through in moments of vulnerability.As you looked back at him, you found him staring at you with a gaze that made your heart flutter uncomfortably in your chest. Heat rushed to your cheeks as you averted your gaze, feeling the weight of his scrutiny like a tangible presence in the air.In that moment, you wondered what lay hidden beneath the surface of this enigmatic man, and what secrets he held within the depths of his soul. But one thing was certain—you were inexplicably drawn to him, captivated by the magnetic pull of his presence and the mysteries that surrounded him.
"Did I ever tell you that people of the night fascinate me?" Damiano's smirk held a hint of mischief as he directed his gaze solely at you, his eyes probing yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but feel like he was speaking directly to your soul.You let out a small laugh, attempting to mask the flutter of nerves that danced in your stomach, and took a sip of your champagne in a feeble attempt to regain your composure. "I'm not really a woman of the night. The violin sounds better when you play in the sun," you replied, attempting to deflect his attention away from you.But Damiano's gaze remained fixed on you, studying you like you were a rare and precious discovery. "I'm sure you are. And playing violin in the night makes things more... dramatic," he remarked, his voice dripping with a tantalizing allure that sent a shiver down your spine.You chuckled nervously, feeling the weight of his gaze like a tangible presence in the air. "But who said I'm dramatic?" you quipped, attempting to lighten the mood with a touch of playful banter. "We're Italians," he shot back with a grin, and you couldn't help but laugh at his response. There was a magnetic charm to his presence, an undeniable allure that drew you in despite your better judgment. As he extended his glass to toast with you, you found yourself unable to resist, raising your own glass to meet his in a gesture of camaraderie. The soft tinkling sound of the colliding glasses echoed through the air, a melodic symphony that seemed to encapsulate the magic of the moment.
He was a vision of effortless charm and casual elegance, dons a crisp white shirt, its top buttons left open in a gesture of relaxed sophistication. With every step, he exudes an air of confidence that effortlessly draws admiration. His demeanor speaks volumes of a man comfortable in his own skin, at ease with both himself and the world around him. With his hair gracefully tied back in a loose ponytail, he exudes an air of relaxed confidence, as if effortlessly striding through the currents of life's challenges.His presence commands attention, not through ostentation, but through a magnetic charisma that emanates from within. There's a grace to his movements, a fluidity that mirrors the calm confidence he exudes. It's as if he moves through life with a quiet assurance, navigating its complexities with ease and grace. As he leaned in to whisper something in Damiano's ear, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in Damiano's expression, his eyes darkening with a hint of seriousness. "I'm sorry, signora," Damiano's voice broke through the momentary silence, his tone tinged with regret. "It seems our encounter must be cut short. Duty calls me."
You felt a pang of disappointment at the sudden turn of events, but you nodded in understanding, masking your emotions behind a polite smile. "Of course, Damiano. Thank you for the wonderful evening." With a graceful bow, Damiano pressed a kiss to your hand before disappearing into the crowd, followed by the enigmatic stranger and his retinue of men. Left alone once more, you couldn't help but wonder about the mysterious man who had interrupted your conversation with Damiano, his presence leaving an indelible impression on your mind.
You snapped out of it, checking the time and deciding it was late enough. You took your stuff and walked out of the VIP section, not without a last glance where Damiano had disappeared earlier. As you stepped out of the vibrant atmosphere of the nightclub, the cool embrace of the summer night enveloped you, a stark contrast to the pulsating energy you had just left behind. With your phone battery dwindling and your funds depleted, you made the decision to walk back to your grandmother's house, which fortunately wasn't too far away.The streets of Rome at night held a unique charm, bathed in the soft glow of streetlights and adorned with the whispers of history echoing through the ancient cobblestones. Despite the late hour, the city seemed alive, bustling with the occasional passerby and the distant murmur of life.However, as you ventured further from the bustling heart of the city and closer to your grandmother's house, the streets grew quieter, until eventually, you found yourself walking alone in the stillness of the night.With each step, the only sound accompanying you was the echo of your own footsteps against the cobblestones, the rhythmic beat of your heart matching the cadence of your journey homeward. Yet, as you turned onto a small side street, a haunting whimper pierced the silence, sending a shiver down your spine.The sound was so faint, so ethereal, that it could easily be mistaken for the mournful cry of the wind weaving through the narrow alleyways. But deep down, you knew it was something more, something tangible, something that demanded your attention.
Despite the trepidation gnawing at your senses, your innate curiosity propelled you forward, drawing you closer to the source of the haunting whimper. With each cautious step, you called out into the night, your voice trembling slightly with a mixture of apprehension and concern.As you rounded the corner onto the deserted street, your eyes widened in shock and horror at the sight that greeted you. There, sprawled on the ground, lay a man, his form illuminated by the pale moonlight filtering through the dense canopy of trees overhead. Crimson stained the pavement beneath him, a stark contrast to the serene beauty of the night.Reacting on pure instinct, you rushed to his side, your heart pounding in your chest as you assessed the severity of his injuries. Blood seeped from a wound, staining his clothes and pooling ominously on the ground. With trembling hands, you pressed against the source of the bleeding, desperately trying to stem the flow and keep him conscious."Sir! Can you hear me?" you called out, your voice laced with urgency and fear. "Come ti chiami? What's your name?" you continued, hoping to elicit any response from the injured man. But there was only silence, save for the labored rise and fall of his chest as he struggled to cling to consciousness. Frantically, you reached for your phone, your fingers fumbling with the device as you attempted to summon help. But before you could complete the call, a sudden, searing pain erupted at the back of your head, stealing away your senses in a cruel wave of darkness. As the world around you dissolved into blackness, the last thing you felt was the cold embrace of the pavement beneath you, a silent witness to the unfolding drama of the night.
Damiano's pov
Damiano stood in the dimly lit room, flanked by Ethan and Thomas, the weight of their collective concern hanging heavily in the air. They awaited the arrival of Vic, their trusted associate, knowing that her presence would signal the beginning of a crucial discussion that could shape the fate of their organization.As the door swung open, Vic entered, accompanied by Luna, her expression grave and her demeanor tense. The severity etched upon her features spoke volumes, a stark contrast to the warmth and lightness Damiano had observed earlier. They all took their seats around the table, a somber atmosphere settling over them like a shroud."Thomas, tell us," Damiano urged, his voice steady but tinged with a sense of urgency. They leaned in attentively as Thomas began to recount the grim details of their missing soldato's fate."We last heard from him a week ago," Thomas began, his tone heavy with regret. "Initially, I assumed he had either betrayed us or fallen victim to a rival faction. Lavinia and I conducted a thorough search, scouring every corner of the city in search of his body, but we found nothing."He paused, his expression pained as he continued, "According to our sources, he was captured two days prior to his disappearance and subjected to unspeakable torture." With a heavy heart, Thomas played a video that had been sent to them, depicting the brutal murder of their soldato, a chilling reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows.
Damiano's stomach churned as he watched the gruesome footage, his features hardening with a mixture of anger and determination. He exchanged a grim glance with Ethan and Thomas, their silent communication speaking volumes about the gravity of the situation."Who sent this?" Luna's voice was steely, her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she watched the video unfold. She radiated an aura of authority, her presence commanding attention and respect from everyone in the room."We're not sure yet," Thomas responded, his voice tinged with frustration. "But we're working on tracing the source. It seems like a direct challenge from the other mafia, a blatant act of aggression aimed at provoking us."Damiano's jaw tightened as he absorbed the implications of Thomas's words. This wasn't just an attack on one of their soldati—it was a declaration of war. And war was something they couldn't afford to lose, not when the stakes were this high."We need to respond," Ethan's voice cut through the tense silence, his expression resolute as he met Damiano's gaze. "We can't let them get away with this."Damiano nodded in agreement, his mind already racing with plans and strategies. They needed to strike back, to send a message that they wouldn't tolerate such brazen acts of violence against their own."Prepare a team," he instructed, his voice firm and unwavering. "We're going to find out who's behind this, and when we do, they're going to regret ever crossing us."As the room buzzed with activity, Damiano couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding that lingered in the air. This was just the beginning of a battle that would test their strength, their resolve, and their loyalty to the very core. And he was determined to emerge victorious, no matter the cost.
As the clock ticked past 2 am, the atmosphere in the room was tense with concentration. Vic, Thomas, Ethan, and I had been poring over documents and maps for hours, piecing together information and formulating strategies in response to the recent attack on our soldati. Despite the gravity of the situation, Vic couldn't resist injecting a bit of levity into the proceedings."So... Dami, how was your evening?" Her tone was teasing, and I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her playful insinuation. "What do you mean by that, Vic?" I replied, trying to maintain a semblance of seriousness. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, Vic leaned against the table, her lips curved in a smirk. "Oh, come on, don't play dumb. I saw you flirting with that woman." I narrowed my eyes at her accusation, feeling a slight twinge of irritation. "I wasn't flirting," I insisted, though I knew my protests would likely fall on deaf ears.
But Vic wasn't easily deterred. "You so were!" she countered, her voice laced with amusement. Ethan, ever the voice of reason, chimed in without looking up from his work. "You even laughed," he remarked, his expression neutral. Vic's eyes widened in disbelief, and Thomas, sensing an opportunity for some lighthearted banter, looked up from his spot at the table. "You laughed?!" he exclaimed, his tone incredulous. I winced inwardly at their teasing, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up my neck. It was true that I hadn't been entirely stoic in my interaction with the woman at the club, but to suggest that I had been flirting was an exaggeration.
I found myslef trapped in the playful banter of his colleagues, their teasing relentless as they poked fun at my rare moment of levity. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, feeling the weight of their jests bearing down on me. "Three times," Ethan repeated, his tone laced with amusement. I shot him a glare, silently cursing Ethan for his telltale poker face. Vic's eyes sparkled with mischief as she joined in the ribbing. "You haven't laughed for the past decade, despite my best attempts!" she exclaimed, her teasing tone echoing in the room. "Do you even know how to laugh? The sound of it?" she added, her laughter infectious as it filled the air.
I clenched my jaw in annoyance, feeling the heat of embarrassment creeping up my neck. "Alright... It was the alcohol working," I admitted begrudgingly, searching for an excuse to deflect their teasing. But Vic wasn't about to let me off the hook so easily. "The alcohol? More like her pretty eyes tantalizing you," she remarked, earning a frustrated sigh from me.
Thomas chimed in with his own brand of mockery. "I still can't believe the boss knows how to laugh," he mused, his tone light but his words carrying a hint of disbelief. I shook his head, trying to regain his composure as Ifocused on my work. I couldn't deny the truth in their words—my encounter at the nightclub had stirred something within my, a flicker of long-forgotten emotion that Ihad buried deep within himself.
I shifted uncomfortably under Vic's scrutinizing gaze, feeling a slight flush creep up my neck. He glanced around the room, hoping to find an escape from the teasing interrogation. "It wasn't like that," Imuttered, my tone defensive. "We were just having a conversation." Vic's eyebrows shot up in mock disbelief, her lips curling into a mischievous grin. "A conversation? At a nightclub? At two in the morning?" I sighed, realizing I was fighting a losing battle. "Fine, maybe there was a little bit of... friendly banter," I admitted reluctantly.
"A little bit?" Vic scoffed. "More like you were ready to serenade her with a love ballad." Ethan finally looked up from his work, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "I wouldn't go that far," he chimed in, earning a grateful nod from me. Thomas chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, I guess it's good to know the boss still has some charm left in him."
I rolled his eyes, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and amusement at the playful teasing from my friends and colleagues. Despite their banter, I couldn't deny that I was grateful for their camaraderie and support, especially in moments like these. As I delved back into my tasks, the memory of her face lingered in my mind, a tantalizing reminder of the unexpected connection I had shared with a stranger in the darkness of the night.
"Ok, sorry Dami," Vic said, her tone softening with genuine remorse. "Could you at least tell us who she was..?" I paused for a moment, considering her question. Despite my reluctance to divulge too much, I couldn't deny the curiosity burning within my friends.
I sighed, realizing I wouldn't be able to escape the relentless questioning from m colleagues. He glanced around the room, noting the amused expressions on their faces, and relented with a resigned chuckle."Her name is Y/n Mazzoti," he confessed, his tone tinged with a hint of sheepishness. "She said she's a musician, a violinist."Vic's eyes lit up with interest, her teasing demeanor momentarily replaced with genuine curiosity. "A musician? Sounds intriguing.""Yeah, and she's not from around here," Damiano added, his thoughts drifting back to the enigmatic woman he had encountered earlier that evening. "She mentioned she was from Florence."Thomas raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Florence, huh? That's quite a distance from Rome."Damiano nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Indeed. She seemed... different. Not like the usual crowd you'd find in a place like that."Ethan leaned back in his chair, studying Damiano with a knowing look. "Well, it sounds like you had an eventful evening, boss."
✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚
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måneskin x reader: blurbs+headcannons+fics
୨୧ 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬
୨୧ 𝙬𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧
୨୧ a headcanon with må with you being a successful model
-they're wearing earbuds, blasting music into their ears when they remember the they left their phone charger in the bathroom. they don't know you're showering and can't hear you over the music...
-You’ve been feeling a little left out in your relationship so your four partners show their love to you with a surprise for Valentine’s Day.
୨୧ Gettin’ Frisky With The Måneskin Members | explicit content, gender neutral reader, switch!damiano, hard domme!victoria, vanilla!thomas, sub!ethan, freaky stuff, toys and s/m, oral (both ways), degradation, spit, pain play, brat taming, bondage, sinning cuz rock’n’roll never dies
୨୧ our favourite band with an S/O with bad menstrual periods
| talk abt periods, so dyphoria warning (we'll get back on the totally GN shit tmrw, just filling requests rn), lil bit of swearing and NSFW on Ethan
୨୧ how the members of Måneskin confess their feelings for you måneskin x gn!reader
victoria de angelis
·。🍓 my sweet valentine vic de angelis x fem! reader | Fluff
-Victoria's first Valentine's day celebrating with you is a bit chaotic but turns out better than expected.
·。🍓 date night vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut, fingering, oral (female receiving) and bdsm dynamics
-you and vic go on a date and it ends with fun at the hotel
·。🍓 hush, hush, cucciola. vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut
-you’re were asked to come over and help to calm Vic down after another disagreement during creating new song, and you find just the way to make her happy and peaceful again
·。🍓 pillow talk vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut
-your night trip to the kitchen gets interrupted by a strange noise, the results of your investigation are more pleasant then you could expect.
·。🍓 long stormy night damiano x fem!reader x vic | SMUT!!!, degradation, corruption kink, wax play, knife play, blood play, spanking, bit of fear play, unprotected sex, it’s just wild ok, i wanted to treat y/n
-It’s a last day of your small, a bit disappointing gateway trip. The big storm is approaching, yet your evening takes an interesting turn when you bump into two hot Italians in the hotel bar
·。🍓 cold breeze, hot cheeks vic de angelis x fem! reader | angst, fluff
-a rather cold October makes your blood boil as you and Vic attend Ethan's birthday party
·。🍓 i think I wanna hold you, but I'm not sure i'm allowed
vic de angelis x fem! reader | angst with tiny hint of smut
·。🍓 I'll show the lovin' that you'll never get from a man. vic de angelis x fem! reader | angst, fluff, smut
-your friends finally meet your boyfriend, and even though nothing goes according to the plan, your night ends up being better than you could hope for, thanks to Vic
·。🍓 sweat and good grips vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut
·。🍓 the one with victoria’s boobs. victoria x gn!reader | fluff
-Victoria needs help taping her boobs for an upcoming performance. You get more than you bargained for.
·。🍓 the one where victoria wants to watch victoria x fem!reader x ethan | smut
·。🍓 “OPEN YOUR MOUTH.” victoria x gn!reader | soft smut
-along the lines of The one where victoria is patient.
·。🍓 “YEAH, WELL, IF YOU WEREN’T SO DRUNK MAYBE I WOULD.” vic de angelis x fem! reader
·。🍓 “I KNOW YOU CAN BE LOUDER THAN THAT.” vic de angelis x fem! reader
·。🍓 “GIVE ME ATTENTION.” vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut
·。🍓 say you'll see me again even if it's just in your wildest dreams vic de angelis xfem!reader | fluff, smut
-You're an up-and-coming actress, and Vic's best friend since high school. You have been friends and in love with each other for as long as you can remember. So when you have the chance to be together, it's magical.
·。🍓 baby said vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut
-you've been on a few dates with Victoria and you think things are going really well. You just wish you had known where the night was going beforehand- maybe you would have picked a table with longer tablecloths.
·。🍓 latenight devil vic de angelis x fem! reader
-victoria covers for you after you sneak backstage ahead of a Måneskin gig & invites you into her dressing room for an unusual encounter
·。🍓 forgive me father vic de angelis x fem! reader | smut, basically porn
·。🍓 the ocean's daughter swearing, alcohol consumption, drowning as a metaphor, smut
-while on holiday in italy, an encounter derails your life enough to make you pack up on a whim and move to the very city in which you first saw her — the ocean's daughter.
·。🍓 vic blurb
-doing domestic stuff with Victoria
·。🍓 a threesome with victoria and damiano! damiano x fem!reader x vic | smut
-reader is victoria’s partner and starts to develop a certain ‘obsession’ for dami, until vic decides to fix it.
·。🍓 vic de angelis fic victoria de angelis x fem!reader
-y/n is the other female member of the band, who has had feelings for vic for a while now, but was too nervous to say anything. one night after a concert in new york changes that after the bassist overhears a conversation between damiano and y/n.
·。🍓 thorns victoria de angelis x fem!reader | Mentions of smoking. Mentions of panic. Swearing.
-victoria meets her ex-girlfriend (Ava). The unplanned “date” upsets her and she decides to drink and smoke to cope. When she wakes up in the morning her best friend Y/N (who she also happens to have a crush on) is there to try and reason with her.
·。🍓 lucid victoria de angelis x fem!reader
-It started with a spilled drink and ended with a clumsy kiss on the dance floor. A night out with friends takes an unexpected turn when you bump into the one person that's been on your mind for the better part of a year- the same stranger who stole both your chapstick and your heart.
·。🍓 nightmares victoria de angelis x fem!reader | A description of a nightmare. Other than that all is fluff and comfort.
-When Y/N has a terrifying nightmare and wakes up screaming, Victoria is there to comfort her.
·。🍓 kisses and cake vic de angelis x reader | very fluffy, a little spicy
·。🍓 vic blurb vic de angelis x reader
-being in a punk band and having vic feature in a show (you know like thomas recently did with starcrawler) and her doing her scissoring thing on top of me and then when she extends and after extending a hand to help me up and pulling me into a very gay gay gay kiss smearing her lipstick on my lipstick and leaving a big lipstick stain on my cheek as well
·。🍓 birthday wish victoria de angelis x fem!reader | smut
-little birthday blurb
·。🍓 church crush vic de angelis x reader | kinky as kink abba; innocent/corruption kink, and idk, sacrilege?
-good girl!reader having a massive obsession on a not-so-good girl from her church.
·。🍓 proficiency test victoria de angelis x gn!reader | a bit of swearing + one (1) explicit and one (1) implicit mention of sex + i'm very much projecting (who doesn't) + shitty german
-vic decides to help you study. chaos ensues.
·。🍓 coming home victoria de angelis x fem!reader
-vic has had a long day but coming home to you lifts the uneasiness from her shoulders and she vocalizes just how lucky she feels that you are in her life.
·。🍓 because of you idiot! victoria de angelis x gn!reader | angst(I guess), romantic fluff
-Victoria suddenly comes distance, and you try to find out why.
·。🍓 fluffy blurb vic de angelis x reader
-(it's something about getting matching tattoos with vic)
·。🍓 fuffly/smut with victoria victoria de angelis x fem!reader
-fluffy morning/half smut with victoria. nipples playing.
·。🍓 your camera roll while dating vic vic de angelis x reader | fluff, smut
·。🍓 knowing your worth vic x fem/gn! reader | hurt, comfort
-Vic is there for you after a conflict with your parents.
·。🍓 the first happiest birthday vic de angelis x reader | fluff
·。🍓 crawling back to you vic de angelis x reader
-Vic once again finds her way back to you.
·。🍓 one of a kind vic de angelis x reader | fluff, mentions of sex
-Vic finds out just how rich the feeling of love can be.
·。🍓 “I can’t keep kissing strangers and pretend that it’s you!” vic de angelis x reader | fluff, angst
·。🍓 pt 2 hospital vic fic. vic de angelis x reader
·。🍓 “everything before the word ‘but’ is horseshit.” vic de angelis x reader | smut
·。🍓 the one where victoria is patient. victoria de angelis x fem!reader | smut
-you've been with Victoria for half a year. Maybe it's about time you pushed your fears away.
·。🍓 “Yeah, well, if you weren’t so drunk maybe I would.” vic de angelis x reader | fluff
·。🍓 “Give me attention.” vic de angelis x reader | smut
·。🍓 “We’re in public, you know.” vic de angelis x reader | fluff
·。🍓 “Wait, don’t pull away… Not yet.” vic de angelis x reader | fluff
·。🍓 "Take off your clothes, but leave the heels on." vic de angelis x reader | fluff
·。🍓 vic fic vic de angelis x reader
-A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party
·。🍓 vic blurb vic de angelis x reader
-Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead.
·。🍓 l'amore è più forte di ogni segreto: Part 1. victoria de angelis x fem!reader | angst, swearing, bad google translate translations, overuse of italics, mention of someone called ‘A’ - Damiano’s girlfriend
-unbeknownst to you both, paparazzi photograph you and Victoria while on your way back from a date night. When you find out in the morning, the two of you have very different ideas of how to handle the situation.
·。🍓 l'amore è più forte di ogni segreto - Part 2. victoria de angelis x fem!reader | angst, swearing, bad google translate translations, overuse of italics.
·。🍓 k is for kisses vic de angelis x reader
-You and your girlfriend, Victoria, both like to tease each other. Kisses ensue.
·。🍓 peculiar and beautiful victoria de angelis x gn!reader | angsty but also fluffy
-reader finds themself in a emotional rut. A few comments online, the constant youtube recommendations on how to be “perfect” have been making them feel some type of way, hiding away from the one person that can help them; Victoria
·。🍓 amalfi nights victoria de angelis x fem!reader | smut, pretty vanilla, softdom!vic, servicetop!vic, praise, kind of fluffy smut
-reader and victoria are for vacation in Amalfi. After a candle-lit dinner at the restaurant, after a long day of swimming and sunbathing, victoria just wants to show you her love.
·。🍓 afterglow victoria de angelis x gn!reader | mentions of sex
-reader meets victoria while traveling with friends. The two create a lovely summer fling and reader can not help but bask in the afterglow of victorias influence hoping to encounter her again.
·。🍓 homesick vic de angelis x reader | tw sickness, vomitting
-vic and the reader being on a long vacation together. One night the reader wakes up homesick and ends up being sick in the toilet, trying to be as quiet as they can not to worry vic too much. To no use, of course, as vic wakes up alarmed by the sounds of someone being ill in the bathroom and then goes to comfort the sick, guilty, crying reader?
·。🍓 vic fic vic de angelis x reader
-An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.
damiano david
✧*: i want to dance on your body damiano david x fem!reader | smut
-you and your bestie hit up a party when you start grooving with Damiano, and the dance floor chemistry carries over to his hotel room. That's where the magic unfolds, and you both go to cloud as he compares you to an angel.
✧*: i'm gonna fly straight to you damiano david x fem!reader | fluff
-you and Damiano are cuddled up in bed, brainstorming epic future adventures together.
✧*: i wanna paint your face like you're my Mona Lisa. damiano david x fem!reader | smut
-damiano takes you to see his new yacht
✧*: long stormy night damiano x fem!reader x vic | SMUT!!!, degradation, corruption kink, wax play, knife play, blood play, spanking, bit of fear play, unprotected sex, it’s just wild ok, i wanted to treat y/n
-It’s a last day of your small, a bit disappointing gateway trip. The big storm is approaching, yet your evening takes an interesting turn when you bump into two hot Italians in the hotel bar
✧*: overthinking damiano david x fem!reader | swearing, alcohol, smoking, smut related things in general
-Your relationship with Damiano is going through a crisis and some jealousy. All becomes clear after a filed party and a steamy night. There is a bit sad, angsty beginning, smut in the middle and a bit of fluff in the end. So, we have the whole package.
✧*: welcome home damiano david x fem!reader | surprisingly fluffy but also smut
-after a long week all you need is a loving touch of your currently absent boyfriend. Luckily in the morning there is a very handsome surprise waiting for you, and this allows you to start your day in best way you could possibly imagine
✧*: 300,000 hearts damiano david x fem!girlfriend!reader
-where damiano sings a song about you he wrote in highschool, to a full arena
ethan torchio
ᑦ( •ᴥ• )ᐣ blush ethan torchio x reader | pure fluff
-a blurb of Ethan meeting his new makeup artist who's really kind and bubbly and he instantly gets a crush on them?
ᑦ( •ᴥ• )ᐣ a night in paris ethan torchio x fem!reader | smut+swearing
-you went on a tour with the band and Ethan enjoyed Paris the most. Having your boyfriend all happy and excited turned out to be better then you expected.
ᑦ( •ᴥ• )ᐣ "The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused, is making me lose my mind." ethan torchio x fem!reader | smut
-If acting unwise get's you places, maybe you're just pushing it to be on your knees.
thomas raggi
❤︎ ❥ "We passed 'just friends' about 20 fucks ago." thomas raggi x reader | angst, fluff, smut
❤︎ ❥ sanremo. thomas raggi x gn!reader | swearing, slightly sugggestive
-ever the supportive boyfriend, thomas indulges you in a sanremo 2023 watch party.
SUMMARY. y/n is the other female member of the band, who has had feelings for vic for a while now, but was too nervous to say anything. one night after a concert in new york changes that after the bassist overhears a conversation between damiano and y/n.
WORD COUNT. 1,111
Y/N L/N DREAMED about performing from a young age. She started to enjoy the art of singing and music due to her family’s interest in the arts. It was a big part of her childhood and teenage years so the fact that she got to do what she loved with some of her best friends, well it was a huge thing to her.
Going on to win Eurovision in 2021 opened doors for her and her band, giving them opportunities they never thought possible. Måneskin growing as a whole was great but the more time went on, the harder it got for the girl to hide her true feelings. She was in love with her fellow band member and best friend, Victoria de Angelis.
The boys always teased her about it and it scared her honestly. She was always open about her sexuality, like Victoria and Ethan were, but it always felt different when Vic was involved. She would get more shy when alone with the bass player and it started to gain more attention from the public, which is something Y/N kind of wanted to avoid.
The three boys and two girls never hid any affection for one another but everyone knew that it was more friendly where the H/C haired girl was concerned. However, deep down she wanted more with the blonde. How could she not? Vic was stunning and one of the nicest people she knew. Anyone would be lucky to have someone like her.
The band had just finished a concert in New York, Y/N and Damiano being the first two backstage. The two singers did not hesitate to sit down on the couch in the dressing room. The crowd had been wild and the vibe was electric to say the least. It was one of the best crowds they’ve had on this tour so far.
“When are you finally going to tell her how you feel?” Damiano’s question snapped the H/C haired girl out of thought, her eyes moving to focus on her friend.
An unimpressed expression was painted on her features but the L/N remained silent for the next couple of seconds. She did not like the boys mentioning her secret when Victoria could just walk in and hear what was being said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She feigned innocence.
Damiano rolled his eyes at her response. “Yeah, okay. N/N, we all see how you are with her, even the fans have started to see it. You can’t keep this a secret forever and I don’t understand why you would want to. It is obvious that she likes you too.”
Y/N shook her head. “Absolutely not. There is no way that she likes me. Have you seen her? She’s way too good for me. We are just friends so I doubt she sees me as anything different.”
“You can be so stupid sometimes. Vic is in love with you too. It may be hard for you to believe but she does, so you should try to tell her how you feel. You have had these feelings for how long now and still haven’t tried. I can promise you that it will work out in your favor.” Damiano’s words were meant to be encouraging as he just wanted to see his friends happy.
The female sighed. “It’s not that easy. You know this but every time I’m around her, it’s like butterflies are in my stomach and I get so shy. I have things I want to say but I never want to mess anything up in front of her. She is so perfect to me and I want to be able to be equally as great.”
Damiano smiled when he realized that there were people standing in the doorway. The others had come back and had heard everything pretty much, including Victoria, who had a smile of her own. Y/N had not seemed to realize though, her eyes having been closed and her head laid on the back of the couch, trying to calm herself.
It wasn’t until the bassist spoke that she opened her eyes and seemed to freeze. Vic had heard what she said, there was no way she didn’t.
“You have a crush on me? It’s a good thing that I have feelings for you too.” Vic had a slight teasing tone laced in her words but she meant what she said, which really did surprise the other female.
Damiano stood and walked towards the doorway, whispering something the Ethan and Thomas before glancing at his female friends. “We’ll leave you two alone.”
The three walked away from Y/N and Victoria, going to do God knows what. The L/N was shocked to hear Vic’s own confession and it was obvious, which made the blonde laugh. She went to sit on the couch in the same spot that Damiano had just gotten up from.
“Did I hear that right,” Y/N voiced aloud, not really meaning to.
The bassist nodded. “Yes, you heard that correctly. I have had feelings for you for so long. I thought I had been clear about it but I guess my attempts weren’t enough. So, yes, I love you and it’s something I’ve wanted to say for a while. You really thought you were not good enough for me? You are more than that to me.”
Y/N couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes but she didn’t allow them to fall. This was really happening! Vic actually loved her. She had dreamed of this moment but it felt impossible for it to really happen. However, she couldn’t be happier.
She was speechless at first but soon regained control of her brain. “Really? I just thought you were being friendly to me. You are the most amazing person so yeah, I did think that you wouldn’t see me as anything other than a friend.”
Vic glanced down at N/N’s lips before focusing back on her eyes. “Can I kiss you?”
It was such a simple question but it held so much power over the L/N, who was quick to nod and agree. Their lips met and it was better than Y/N imagined. The two pulled away after a couple more seconds and the H/C haired girl smiled.
Vic wrapped her arm around the other girl’s body before asking the important question she had on her mind. “Would you like to be my girlfriend?”
Y/N L/N laughed and her smile never faltered. “Yes, of course! I would love that.”
Victoria brought her now girlfriend closer and rested her head on top of Y/N’s, the two staying like that until they eventually had to get up.
Damiano's voice still echoed in my head, relentlessly repeating. And all I had left was the memory of his expression, that look filled with so much love, pain, and an insecurity I never thought I’d see in his eyes. The proposal was simple, but its significance, its weight, became too much to bear. I, Y/N, wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to say “yes.”
The moment was perfect, but I didn’t fit into it. He knelt down, took my hand, asked me to be his forever, and in the warmth of his voice, I felt a mix of fear and hope. In that moment, part of me wanted to run to him, hold his hands, and say “yes” with the same intensity he was looking at me. But there was something inside me that stopped me, something that made me completely uncertain, something I couldn’t understand.
I closed my eyes and remembered that day.
…
It was a summer afternoon, and the golden light of the sunset poured through the windows of the small house we were in. Damiano had invited me to spend the weekend away, for no particular reason, but I knew something was different. He was quieter than usual, with a smile on his lips, as though he was carrying something he couldn’t share.
We made a simple dinner, just the two of us, and after a quiet evening, where we swapped old stories and laughed as if time stood still, he invited me for one last dance. He took my hand gently, and before guiding me to the center of the room, he spoke softly:
"I’ve always wondered what would happen if one day we were like this, after everything we’ve been through. And now I understand. I want it to be forever, Y/N. I want you forever."
I looked at him, confused, unsure of what it all meant.
Damiano then knelt down, a soft smile on his lips, but his eyes were filled with a vulnerability I never expected to see. A small but charming engagement ring was in his hands, reflecting the soft light in the room. I recognized that ring. I’d seen it a few times on his mom’s finger.
Damiano held my hand firmly, but in a way that calmed me, like he knew I needed time to process what he was asking.
"Will you marry me?" The question seemed simple, but at that moment, everything felt heavy. My heart raced, but at the same time, something inside me shut down. I wasn’t ready for this. I knew he wanted it, but I… I didn’t know what I wanted.
I looked at the ring, then at his eyes, and felt a storm of emotions flood me. There was so much love, so much care. But there was also something deep inside me telling me I wasn’t ready to take this step. I’m not ready, I thought. I’m not enough for him… not now.
"Damiano, I… I can’t. I’m not the person you need. I’m not ready for this," I said, almost out of breath. The words came out like a rejection of everything we were, but I knew it was the truth.
He froze, the smile on his lips disappearing instantly. The silence between us was heavy, and he looked down for a moment before lifting his head, trying to smile. "It’s okay," he said softly, almost inaudibly. "I just wanted you to know that I’m ready. If you ever are, I’ll be here."
I watched him slowly get up, as if he was trying to understand what I hadn’t said, what he already knew I didn’t have the courage to admit. He placed the ring back in the box, and though he accepted my decision, something in his eyes told me he was disappointed not with me, but with himself. He knew that by proposing, he had created an expectation, and now… he was lost. Just like I was.
…
Now, sitting on my couch with my phone glowing in front of me, I found myself back in that moment. Damiano’s proposal, the silence that followed, and the words I never said. How could I have been so blind? How could I have let this slip through my fingers? I could’ve said yes. I could’ve given a future with him a chance. But now, everything was out of my reach.
As I tried to process what had happened between us, a notification popped up on my Instagram. Without thinking, I tapped on it, and the world seemed to stop. Damiano was there, smiling next to Dove Cameron, with the engagement ring I knew so well on her finger. And the caption seemed to mock me: "Engaged. I Love you."
I froze. The pain cut through me like a sharp knife. He’s engaged to Dove. The words kept repeating in my head like a mantra. I wanted to close my eyes and pretend I hadn’t seen it. But I couldn’t. He was happy. He found someone. And I… I wondered if he would’ve waited for me.
I stared at that photo, at their smiles, at their life, and the regret consumed me with an intensity I didn’t know was possible. He was exactly where he was supposed to be. And I was here, living with the pain of not having taken the step he deserved.
What I wanted more than anything at that moment was to go back, take his hand, look at him, and say: "Yes, Damiano, yes. I want to be yours forever." But time doesn’t wait for anyone. And I had already lost my chance.
What’s left now? I don’t know. All I knew was that he was happy. And that, in some way, brought me a little relief. Not enough to erase the pain, but enough to remind me that he deserved happiness. With Dove, or with whoever, he deserved it.
Still, at night, as the image of Damiano and Dove reflected on my phone screen, a sense of emptiness took over me. I knew he was the love of my life. But at the same time, I knew he was no longer mine. The proposal, which felt like a dream, was now just a distant memory. And his life moved on.
I still wondered: What if I had said yes? But in the end, the answer was clear. No matter how much I wanted to go back, he was moving on. And, as much as it tore me apart inside, I had to let him. Because, deep down, all I wanted was to see Damiano happy.
And, no matter how heavy the weight of pain and regret was, I knew this was his choice. He found someone who wanted to be with him forever. And I… well, I learned that sometimes, it’s better to let someone go, even if it breaks your heart.
Summary: You woke up in the middle of the night just so that you realize that Damiano is not with you, but don't worry. You know where to find him.
Warning/s: just pure fluff, mantion of hospitals a few times, pregnancy and babies and all that stuff, dad Damiano (yes that should be a warning itself), first time writing anything related to babies and that kind of stuff, possible grammar and spelling mistakes (English is my second language)
Author's note: Ding! Order up!🛎 Here is another Damiano fic as you requested. I really do hope you like it. It is truly the first time that I wrote anything that included this type of topics, but I hope that I did a decent job. Thank you for the request, anon. Feel free to send more requests. Enjoy!! 👩🍳
You were snuggled deep in the silk sheets on Damiano's and yours bed. Once you heard the noise the first time you just started to press your face much deeper in your pillow. The softness and the warmth of your side of the bed was overwhelming. You were finally back home. Back in your own bed.
Oh, how much you missed your comfortable side of the bed. The soft, squishy pillow that felt like you were resting your face on a literal cloud. You missed the softness so much. You knew one thing for sure. Hospital beds sucked. Very much so. But, aside from all that. One thing you missed the most, one thing that you literally wanted to kill for when you were forced to lay in uncomfortable hospital bed for days, was Damiano's soft touch when you slept.
The feeling of his arm tightening around you and bringing you closer to keep you warm at night when you were practically fast asleep. You missed the feeling of his soft breathing that you felt against your neck every night. You just missed feeling his warmth and being in his safe hold in your sleep. When you slept in the same bed with him, it felt like the safest place ever. You felt like you were the safest you could ever be in the whole wide world right when you were in his arms. Speaking of Damiano, soon enough, as you steached your arm out and your fingers felt the sheets on the other side of the bed where Damiano was supposed to be sleeping, you noticed that Damiano wasn't laing in bed anymore. That's when you heard that little whining voice again, but it was slowly calming down, it was slowly getting quite and you knew what it was. You knew what was happening.
You gathered all of the strength you could so you could open your eyes. You did so with, what seemed like, a lot of effort. You than steached your arm a little bit left soaking in the feeling of the cold side of bed which Damiano occupied, but now was nowhere to be found. Yet you were sure that you knew exactly where he was. And so, with that thought, you decided that you should get up and confirm your suspicion. You couldn't help but let out a small soft groan at the thought of getting up from the bed. It doesn't matter, you think to yourself, the bed was getting colder without him anyways. You lifted the covers off of you and slang your legs over your side of the bed so you could get up. As you did that, and got up afterwards, you, once again, couldn't help but let out another soft groan from the soreness. You still couldn't believe that all of this happened just a few days ago.
You slowly, quietly started to walk out of Damiano's and yours room and down the hallway. You watched your every step, careful as to not wake her up as Damiano probably got her back to sleep. Just when you thought that you had to open the door to the room that was not so far away from your bedroom you met with a wonderful sight.
There he was. Standing in the middle of the room, his back turned to you, facing the window which showed nothing but a complete darkness that the Italian night brought with it when it decided that Sun should be pushed away for a few hours before it was time for it to go back up. Even though his back was facing you, you could see that he was holding something in his arms or rather someone. As you stood frozen by the doorway, you watched as Damiano was slowly rocking her back and forth as he sang something in Italian to her. It was beautiful. It was truly beautiful. But most of all, it was peaceful and you didn't have the heart, you just couldn't bare, to break this peace between a father and a daughter. But you didn't have to. Damiano was first to notice your presence in the room. When you saw that he noticed you, you started to slowly walk up to him as he gave you a little soft smile. You leaned over his shoulder, holding onto him as you looked at the peaceful, sleeping face of your little girl.
"What are you doing up, amore?" He whispered once you joined them. "Did we wake you up?"
"I noticed that your side of the bed was cold and when I opened my eyes I saw that you were gone." You explained as you watched him watch you with beautiful pair of crystals that your daughter stole for herself, too. "I knew that I would find you here after I heard her voice." You told him as you pressed your finger against your daughter's soft cheek as you carefully tried to not wake her up with your action.
"You shouldn't be awake at his hour. Only a few days have passed since you were free to return home from the hospital." He started to ramble, you noticed that he started to speak faster, his Italian accent getting thicker and you couldn't help but smile at him. "You must sit down right now. You must rest." He continued with whispering his worries to you and you could hold back a quiet giggle that escaped your lips.
"Amore, I'm fine. I feel perfectly fine. Still a little sore, sure." You said and you immediately noticed how he shot you a worried look at that once again so you quickly continued to explain. "But I feel fine, Dami. Truly."
"But you would tell me if something was wrong." He gave you a look, never stopping with rocking your asleep daughter back and forth. "Right?"
"Of course I would. I promise." You promised with a smile and he seemed satisfied with your truthful answer.
"Good." He told you, but he still made you sit down on the rocking chair in the corner of the room.
At that moment you realized how lucky you truly were as to have this amazing family. You had a person who loved you unconditionally and would do anything for you just like you would do the same for him. He was your everything and you were his everything. As he shot a quick look and caught your sleeping form in a rocking chair he realized that he couldn't be happier. He had you. You had him. Him and your darling daughter Marlena.
Imagine being annoyed with damiano’s new haircut because there’s nothing to tug on while he goes down on you and he just smirks every time you pout
Aww I love this!
At first you love it because the short cut gives you the best access to give him the head scratches that he loves, but then once he starts kissing down your body and starts licking your clit and all you want to do is tug him closer ... there's nothing to hold on to. He hears you whimper and looks up to see you pouting at him and asks what's wrong. When you tell him you miss tugging on his hair he just smirks and shakes his head, getting back to work and guiding your hand to the back of his head anyway.
