#Massimo

[multific]

The Storm Before the Calm

Massimo Torricelli x Reader

Summary: A misunderstanding leads to days of painful silence between you and Massimo. Frustrated, you leave the estate for space, only to get caught in a brutal storm.

The silence between you and Massimo was deafening.

It had been days since your last real conversation, a simple misunderstanding spiralling into something neither of you had the patience or pride to fix.

You missed him, his touch, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered.

But his cold indifference cut deep, and you refused to be the first to break.

Frustrated, you left the estate, needing space to clear your head.

The Sicilian air was thick with humidity, the sky an ominous shade of grey.

You barely noticed the shift, too lost in your thoughts, until the first raindrop landed on your skin.

Then another. And another.

Within moments, the sky unleashed its fury.

The rain fell in heavy sheets, the wind howling as you struggled to find shelter.

You were too far from home now, drenched and shivering, your stubbornness having led you into the heart of the storm.

Then, through the chaos, you heard it.

The roar of an engine.

Headlights sliced through the rain, and before you could even process it, the car jerked to a stop beside you.

The door swung open, and there he was.

Massimo.

His expression was unreadable as he stepped out, the rain instantly soaking his perfect suit.

His jaw was tight, his eyes darker than the storm itself.

“Get in the car,” he ordered, voice rough, edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

You hesitated, but he was already reaching for you, his large hands gripping your arms as he pulled you under the shelter of his body. “You could’ve gotten hurt,” he murmured, his breath warm against your chilled skin.

His hands ran down your arms as if checking for any signs of harm.

“I didn’t mean to be out this long,” you admitted softly, watching as something in his expression cracked.

His grip tightened for a second before he exhaled sharply. “Dio, I’ve been going insane.” He cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the rain—or maybe the tears you hadn’t realized had mixed with it. “You left angry. I thought-” He stopped, and for the first time in days, you saw it.

The worry. The fear. The cold expressionless eyes were now filled with every emotion.

“I wasn’t leaving you,” you whispered, pressing a cold hand over his racing heart. “I just needed to think.”

His forehead rested against yours, his breath ragged.

“Then next time, think in the house. With me.”

You barely had time to nod before his lips crashed onto yours.

He tasted like rain and something more profound, like a man holding back far too much for far too long. And when he finally pulled you into the car, wrapping you in his jacket, you knew the storm between you had finally passed.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[leviathanhomecooking]

365 Days (2020)

[ador3sturniolo]

Jealous

An - Oh my gosh this man is so fine!! I know he’s not a sturniolo triplet but i just can’t get over him so i wanted to write something for him. Enjoy my loves! Also this is my first time writing smut so sorry if it’s bad 🫣

MDI 18+

Paring - Massimo X FemReader

Summary - Massimo gets jealous

Warnings - Smut, Tension??

Requested - No

It was a quiet evening in the city, the kind where the world felt like it was moving in slow motion, wrapped in the comfort of soft lights and murmured voices. The venue was upscale, a modern restaurant tucked away on the outskirts of town, frequented by those who sought luxury and privacy.

You were seated at a table near the back, the low hum of conversation and clinking glasses fading into the background as you sipped on your drink. The man across from you was charming, well-dressed, and made a point of keeping you engaged with interesting stories and laughter. You’d met him earlier in the evening at the bar, where the conversation had been light and easy, and you had enjoyed the company. But there was something about him that felt fleeting, like a momentary distraction, not something that could hold your attention for long.

Still, you couldn’t deny the conversation was pleasant, and as he leaned in a little closer, his voice lowered with a flirty undertone, you felt a tug of curiosity. His proximity was too intimate, the air between you too thick, but before you could take another sip of your drink, a sudden, sharp voice broke through.

“Is everything alright here?”

You turned in surprise. Standing at the edge of your table, his frame towering above, was Massimo. His eyes locked onto yours, a mix of curiosity and something else flickering beneath the surface—something darker. A storm was brewing behind his calm expression.

You felt your pulse spike at the sight of him. Massimo. The man who always seemed to command a room without even trying. His presence was magnetic, impossible to ignore.

The man across from you stood up politely, offering Massimo a handshake, though there was a noticeable tension in the air as they exchanged looks. “Everything’s fine,” you said quickly, hoping to diffuse whatever tension had already begun to brew. But Massimo didn’t take his eyes off you—not even for a second.

“I see,” Massimo replied, his voice low, a hint of coldness in it that hadn’t been there before. “I didn’t realize you had company tonight.”

You couldn’t tell if it was the sharpness of his tone or the subtle flicker of something possessive in his eyes, but something shifted. The man across from you noticed it too, his smile faltering as he glanced back and forth between the two of you.

“Actually, I should be going,” the man said, his voice faltering slightly. “It was nice meeting you.” He gave you a polite nod, his eyes lingering just long enough to register the tension in the air before quickly walking away.

You watched him go, a feeling of unease creeping into your chest. You had been enjoying the evening, but now, under Massimo’s gaze, you felt like a deer caught in the headlights. He didn’t sit down immediately, instead hovering next to your table, his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw clenched tightly. The air between you two was thick with unspoken words.

“I didn’t expect to see you with him,” Massimo said, his voice so controlled it barely masked the tension. “I thought you and I had an understanding.”

You blinked, not sure if you were hearing him correctly. “Massimo, it’s nothing,” you began, trying to explain, but his expression didn’t soften. If anything, it became even more intense.

“It’s not nothing,” he muttered, his gaze narrowing, focusing on the empty seat where your date had just been. “You were laughing with him. Leaning in close.” His jaw tightened as he stepped closer to you, the space between you shrinking. “You never laugh with me like that.”

You felt your heart race, a mix of excitement and something else—something raw and unspoken—beginning to take hold. He was jealous. Massimo Torricelli, the man who always seemed so in control, was visibly upset by the thought of you with someone else. It was both thrilling and intimidating.

“Massimo, I was just talking,” you said softly, hoping to ease his mind, but the look in his eyes told you that wasn’t enough.

“Talking?” he repeated, his voice lowering. “I don’t think you understand. You’re mine, cara,” he said, his words deliberate, like a warning wrapped in something more dangerous. “And I don’t share what’s mine.”

A small chill ran down your spine at the possessiveness in his tone. His eyes darkened as they focused on yours, and you felt an undeniable pull—like a magnetic force drawing you toward him.

“I don’t want you talking to him,” Massimo added, his voice quiet but full of command. “I don’t want anyone else thinking they can have you, not like that.”

You swallowed, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. “You’re being unreasonable,” you said, though there was a hint of challenge in your voice, knowing it would only make him more determined.

Massimo’s lips quirked into a small, dangerous smile. “Maybe,” he said softly, leaning in closer. His breath was warm against your ear as he added, “But I don’t like seeing what’s mine slipping away.”

Before you could respond, he was standing in front of you, his large hand cupping your chin gently, tilting your face up to meet his intense gaze. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, making your pulse spike. “You’ll have to make it up to me, cara,” he murmured, his voice suddenly quiet, almost possessive in a way that made your heart race.

His words felt like a promise, a quiet but undeniable claim over you. Your mind was spinning, torn between the electric tension in the air and your desire to test the boundaries of his jealousy. And as his thumb brushed over your lip again, you felt your resistance begin to crumble.

Massimo’s jealousy was no longer just a reaction—it was a desire. One that would burn between the two of you for as long as you allowed it to. And tonight, it seemed you weren’t going to stop it.

With one final look, Massimo leaned down, pressing his lips against your ear, his voice hushed but full of intent: “Come with me.”

Massimo drove you back to his apartment, rushing inside and locking the door

As the door to Massimo's apartment closed behind you, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. The hustle and bustle of the city outside faded away, leaving only the intoxicating energy between you two. Massimo's gaze locked onto yours, filled with a mix of desire and protectiveness that sent a thrill through your body.

He approached you slowly, each step deliberate, as if savoring the moment. When he reached you, he cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. The warmth of his palms ignited a fire within you, and you could see the raw hunger in his eyes.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked, his voice low and filled with urgency.

You nodded, your heart racing as you took a step closer, feeling the heat radiating from him. “I want you, Massimo. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

With a growl of desire, he crushed his lips against yours, the kiss deep and possessive. His hands found your waist, pulling you close as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing your lips before exploring the depths of your mouth. You melted against him, feeling his strong body press against yours, every touch igniting a wave of sensation.

Massimo’s kiss consumed you—demanding and intense, leaving no room for thought. The moment his lips met yours, everything else faded. The world outside the study ceased to exist. It was just him and you. His hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, his grip tightening as if he were afraid you might slip away. You had never felt anything like this before—his possessiveness, his need for control, all wrapped in a kiss that made your head spin.

You let out a soft gasp when his lips left yours, only to feel his breath on your skin as his mouth moved to your neck. He kissed you there—slow, deliberate, each press of his lips a claim, each touch sending heat rushing through you. His hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the solid strength of his body against yours. The tension between you both was palpable, thick and electric.

Massimo’s lips finally parted from your skin, but his gaze never left yours. His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, an unreadable emotion swirling within them. “You’re mine,” he murmured, voice husky with a mix of desire and dominance. “I don’t share, cara. Not with anyone. Not ever.”

His words echoed in the room, the weight of them sinking into your chest. Part of you felt the heat of excitement at his possessiveness, the way he staked his claim on you so boldly. But another part of you felt a rush of adrenaline, like you were walking a fine line between pleasure and danger.

“Massimo…” you breathed, your voice trembling. You weren’t sure if it was from fear or anticipation. “You don’t need to be jealous.”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Don’t I?” His hand moved to your waist again, his fingers pressing against the fabric of your dress, pushing it up just slightly. The move was casual, yet the intent was clear—he wanted you, wanted to feel you beneath him. “I don’t like seeing you with another man,” he said, voice dropping to a dangerous level. “It doesn’t sit right with me.”

The words sent a flutter of heat to your core, and despite yourself, you felt your body respond to him. He was so sure of himself, so completely in control. There was no question in his mind about what he wanted, and right now, what he wanted was you.

He took a step back, his eyes never leaving you as if he were studying your every move. “Take off your dress.”

The command hit you like a shock, and for a moment, your mind raced, questioning what you were about to do. But there was no time for hesitation—Massimo was not a man who waited for permission. He had a way of making things happen, and in that moment, you realized that you were going to let him.

Your fingers trembled as you reached behind you to unzip the dress, the fabric sliding off your shoulders and pooling at your feet. The air was cool against your exposed skin, but the heat between you and Massimo was enough to burn. You looked up at him, his eyes dark with desire, and the way he stared at you made your breath catch in your throat.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice softer now, but still full of raw, possessive heat. He stepped forward again, his hands skimming your sides, tracing the curve of your waist, before moving up to cup your breasts, his touch almost reverent. “I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want you right now.”

You gasped at the intensity of his touch, your body arching into his hands, instinctively seeking more. Massimo’s lips met yours again, but this time, it was different. It was slower, more deliberate. He kissed you like he was savoring you, taking his time, feeling you, exploring every inch of your mouth as though it was a treasure he had found.

As the kiss deepened, his hands wandered lower, slipping under the waistband of your panties. The touch was gentle at first, almost teasing, but when he felt you shiver beneath him, he became more insistent.

“Tell me what you want,” he whispered against your lips, his breath warm and inviting.

You met his gaze, desire swirling within you. “I want you, Massimo. I want all of you.”

With that, he captured your lips again, his hands working swiftly to remove the last barriers between you.

Massimo took his time, trailing kisses down your body, worshiping every inch of you as he moved lower. You could feel his lips teasing along your thighs, sending shivers of anticipation through you. The sensation was intoxicating, and you could hardly contain your moans as he explored you with a fervor that made your head spin.

When his mouth finally found you, it was overwhelming. He moved with an expert touch, eliciting gasps and moans as he worked you closer to the edge. Every flick of his tongue, every gentle suck ignited a fire deep within you, and you felt yourself spiraling into pleasure.

“Massimo,” you cried out, your hands tangling in his hair as you pushed your hips against him, craving more.

He looked up at you, the intensity in his eyes only fueling your desire. “That’s it, baby. Let go,” he urged, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine.

With each passing moment, you felt yourself teetering on the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. And when you finally let go, it was like a wave crashing over you, pulling you under in a tide of ecstasy.

Massimo didn’t stop; he continued to tease and coax you through your release, prolonging the pleasure until you were breathless and trembling beneath him.

Once you came down from your high, he moved back up your body, his lips finding yours once more. The kiss was deep and filled with the promise of more. You could feel the heat radiating from him, and you knew he was just as affected by the intimacy you shared.

“Now it’s my turn,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he positioned himself above you.

With a mix of eagerness and urgency, he entered you, filling you completely. The sensation was electric, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body as he moved slowly at first, savoring every moment.

“God, you feel incredible,” he groaned, his voice low and filled with need.

You wrapped your legs around him, urging him to go deeper, to lose himself in the moment. The rhythm between you built, each thrust sending you higher, the world outside fading away until it was just the two of you, lost in the heat of passion.

As the intensity grew, so did the connection between you. With each movement, you felt your bodies melting together, the intimacy binding you in ways you never thought possible. The sounds of the city outside were drowned out by the symphony of your breaths, the whispers of your names, and the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving as one.

Finally, as the waves of pleasure washed over you both, you reached your peak together, a crescendo of ecstasy that left you breathless and entwined, hearts racing in unison.

In the aftermath, you lay wrapped in each other's arms, the intimacy of the moment lingering in the air. You could feel the warmth of Massimo's body against yours, the steady beat of his heart a comforting reminder of the bond you had forged.

“Always,” he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “You’re mine, and I’m yours.”

And in that moment, everything felt right.

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AN- Hey! I wanted to try a new style of writing for this one so that what i did! I hope you guys like it!!! ☺️

[drawloverlala]

I have been working on these for a year lol, finally finished them! 😆 Megaman X, Zero, Axl, Massimo and Sigma in Megaman XDive like summer outfits.

[hopelesslys-world]

STOCKHOLM SYNDROME | CH. 6

WARNINGS: NON-CON, Age Gap ( Massimo is 34 reader is 20 ), sex, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, oral (both female and male), yandere themes, stalking, KIDNAPPING, violence, harsh language, murder...

Tell me if I missed something... ( As you can see most of those warnings will make their appearance in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...not edited

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𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐖𝐈́𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔́𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐘 problems. The driver opened the door for Massimo while you were stuffing your things into your bag—they must have spilled out to the seat during the drive. Massimo rounded the car and opened the door on your side, offering you a hand. He was being very gallant, and in that linen suit of his, he looked simply overpowering.

As both of your feet touched the ground, he discreetly grabbed your ass, pushing you gently toward the entrance. You sent him a shocked glance—that was behavior worthy of an adolescent boy. But he only smirked, sliding his hand up to your back and leading you to the terminal.

That son of bitch...

You’d never had all the check-in formalities done so fast. All you had to do was pass through the building. When you emerged on the other side, another car picked the two of you up and drove you to a small plane.

As much as you enjoyed this whole process of being in an airplane, you couldn't help but be nervous and make your heart stop pounding.

You sat down on a plush leather couch, Massimo soon joined you sitting dangerously closer than you liked. A bottle of champagne arrived but you paid no mind to it wanting to get over with this flight in a calm and quick way as possible.

With Massimo on your side though your whish seemed utterly impossible...

His hand rested behind your hand, not touching you, just settling on the couch. His leaning towards you was obvious as hell, however you knew very well where this was leading.

"You know...I can't get off my head the image of you naked in the shower this morning." he said in a low seducing tone that made your heart pound faster each passing second.

You blushed heavy crimson from embarrassment and shyness and turned your head away from his close face. "No need to be shy with me now, princess. There's no shame wanting to get high in pleasure..." His fingers touched your chin making you look at him, your faces inches away from each other. "...What's a real shame is denying what you feel. You know that I'll be more than happy to provide you with everything you'll need."

Massimo's hand moved from your chin slowly down to your leg, sneaking in your bare skin from your skirts cut giving you strokes in the inside of your thighs that every now and then neared so close to your cunt.

As much as you wanted to give in, your untouched pussy was becoming wet with arousal, however, the incidents happening a few days prior kept your guard up and your reputation high. "No. I can't..." Your hands grabbed his and shoved it away from your thigh.

The Man in Black sigh heavily plopping back to his seated position. "You're making this harder than it has to be Y/N. It doesn't have to be this way." He declared in disappointment shaking his head in disapproval.

You tried. You tried really hard to keep your thoughts to yourself, Massimo provoked you all the fucking time it was impossible!

"Well, excuse me that I don't want to sleep with the man I know for a week, to be more specific the man who kidnapped me." You smiled sweetly at him, then your face got all pouty again.

He scoffed, you could imagine him rolling his eyes at you. "You need to move on, princess. You pouted enough already don't you think? You were so good and obedient today... don't ruin my mood...I want to reward you. Will you be my good girl?"

Massimo pulled you closer leaving a kiss on shoulder his hand behind you caressed your neck softly—teasingly with his fingers as his lips left kitten kisses which trailed upward, to your neck, to your throat and lastly your jawline before his movements came into a halt.

You needed to stop him, you had to stop him, you couldn't let this happen it wasn't right.

What the hell changed!? Just like this morning you despised him and then you wanted to have sex with him!? It doesn't make sense! Nothing makes sense anymore!

Was the sexual provoke too much? Or was it something else ... something deeper? Stockholm Syndrome perhaps. You've heard of this lot's of times from your friend who studied phycology... must be it.

"Answer me baby." He whispered.

Hesitantly, you nodded. Not wanting to awaken a heated argument.

"Use your mouth, baby girl. I want to hear you say it." Massimo looked you in the eyes, his dark brown eyes became completely black with lust and need.

"I will." You replied quietly, obviously meaning it untill he crossed another line.

"Come with me." The Man in Black said eagerly.

He stood up then lifting you up, he lead you in a corridor which was getting narrower in this part of the plane. Massimo had to turn sideways to squeeze through. You entered a dark room with a bed in the middle.

You have to be stupid to not realise where this was going. It was entirely your fault, you let the strings too loose and got his confidence to get laid with you too high.

As soon as he closed the door he attacked your lips in a raw, desperate, way. Catching you surprised, your hands shot to his broad chest pushing him away but he didn't budge at all. Instead his tongue found yours, kissing you more passionately.

The back of your knees found the mattress and the Man in Black slowly lowered you to the soft sheets.

His lips left your mouth and attacked your neck leaving behind red marks in very visible spots. You had to act quick, he didn't even know that you were a virgin. You knew that this wouldn't be a pleasant experience, he was too fierce and worked up to be gentle.

"Massimo, please stop. You have to stop." You begged breathless by his hungry kisses.

"Tell me the real reason. Tell me why you won't let me have you. I know that you desire it as much as I do. Tell me." Massimo demanded.

Should you answer him? Probably, it was time he knows the truth anyway. Maybe he'll stop being so impatient and shameless.

"I've... I've never...done something like this before..." You admitted with your cheeks turning beetroot red.

It was obvious that he was shocked, definitely expecting another reason to your hesitance. His surprised expression turned into a smirk, "Aw, are you still a virgin? Poor baby, doesn't know what she's missing..." He bit his lip.

"Ugh, stop it already." You said in embarrassment turning your body away from him.

Massimo pinned you back to your previous position, "You might think that I'll quit wanting you, but I never step back from such a challenge... And to know that I'll be the first and only to claim you...fuck...you can't imagine how hard I am for you baby girl. Don't worry I'll teach you everything, I'll as gentle as I can, promise."

Despite your fear, you always wanted to do it, you were just too scared.

He started kissing you again this time a little more softly, his trail of pecks reached downwards again, to your line of breasts stopping altogether to take your skirt off you.

You lay still, squeezing your legs together, debating with yourself if you wanted to continue or not.

“Massimo, I'm not sure—” you started.

“I'll make you feel so good. Don’t be afraid, baby girl,” he said, pushing his hand between your legs. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You squeezed your legs together even harder, whining softly with fear. “Shush,” he whispered. “I will part your legs now and start with just one finger. Relax.”

You knew he’d do as he was saying whether you wanted it or not. So you attempted to relaxed. “Good, just like that. Now spread those legs wide for me.”

You shyly did as you were told only that you slightly unsqueezed them

“You’ll be a good girl and do what I say now. I don’t want to hurt you.” Delicately, he started to kiss you on the lips while his hand slid down. With his other hand, he held your head, deepening the kiss. You yielded, and an instant later, your tongues were dancing, quicker and quicker. It was the first time you've allow this to happen.

“So good for me,” he breathed into your ear as his hand reached the fabric of your panties. “I love how obedient your are. Now, be still and don’t move.”

Massimo’s fingers slipped into the most intimate spot of your body which no one else have touched before. Slowly, with his lips right next to your ear, he explored further inside of your thighs, gently stroking them with two fingers, teasing you.

He rubbed your clit and you let out a breathless moan, he stroked up and down collecting and producing more arousal making a slippery little mess. Finally Massimo slid inside your unused pussy. It hurt a tiny bit, you hissed at the new sensation and squirmed relentlessly.

“So fucking tight. Don’t move and be silent. Do you understand?”

You nodded whimpering. His finger sank deeper, until it was all the way in. You clenched your teeth, trying to remain silent, while he started to move, subtly and sensually, inside you. His middle finger slid in and out, while his thumb softly fondled your clit. Your eyes closed and felt his weight subsiding and then shifting downward. You stopped breathing. His finger didn’t stop.

Massimo reached his destination. Suddenly, he slipped his finger out, making you wince. But then you felt his breath through your panties and your heart beat faster and harder.

“I’ve dreamed about it since I first saw you. I want you to talk to me when I start. Tell me if I’m doing it good. Direct me. I want to give you your first ecstasy,” he breathed, pulling your undergarment down your legs.

On instinct, you brought your legs together, embarrassed.

“Spread them wide for me. I want to see you.”

You appreciated his gentleness, the fact that he wanted you to feel more comfortable during your first intercourse. You slowly did as he told you and heard him inhaling deeply. He spread your legs wider, piercing you with his gaze, sinking deeper into you most intimate, secretive places.

“Touch me,” you moaned, unable to keep quiet anymore. “Please...”

Hearing that, he started steadily rubbing your clit, leaned down and sank his tongue in your wet cunt, his movements dynamic. You grabbed his hair pulling roughly, head rolled back at the new euphoric feeling. With the fingers of one hand he spread the lips of your pussy, wanting to reach that most sensitive spot.

“I want you to come, and I want to torture you with more orgasms until you beg me to stop. I want you to look at me. I want to see your face as you come, again and again.”

“Open your eyes Y/N” he demanded his mouth and fingers stopped.

Between your legs, Massimo was at the same time sexy and terrifying. He swooped in again, his lips caressing my clit, and two of his fingers impaled you. You closed your eyes, feeling pressure on your lower stomach.

“Massimo,” you whimpered.

His fingers kept stroking expertly, while his tongue never stopped.

“Kurwa mać!” You shouted in you native tongue as you came for the first time in your life. The orgasm was long and strong, overwhelming. Your body was taut like a string, trapped by what Massimo was doing. When you felt the orgasm subside, he rushed at your exhausted, tender, and sensitive clit again, almost painfully. You clenched your teeth until they grated, squirming—impaled by his two fingers.

“Please, no more...” your voice was weak cried after the next wave of painful bliss overcame you.

The Man in Black slowly relented, let your body cool down, softly kissed and stroked all the places that were hurting now. Your hips collapsed to the mattress when he was finished. As you lay still, he slowly pushed himself up, reached for the nightstand, fishing out a box of wet wipes. Gently he wiped the spots he had been attacking with such passion just a moment ago.

“See, I kept my promise this time,” he winked, and disappeared back into the main compartment.

You kept still for a moment longer, analyzing everything, but you couldn’t believe what had just happened. You only knew two things; that you were so sore now and that surely the feeling of regret washed over you.

Fuck, you regretted that stupid decision! What had gotten into you and allowed him to do this!? A stay tear escaped however you were quick to wipe it away.

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When you returned, Massimo was sitting in his seat, biting his upper lip lost in thought.

You sat down opposite him awkwardly, having no idea how to act around him anymore.

“So... what are our plans for today?” you asked quietly.

He smiled and poured another glass of champagne handing it to you.“You’ll learn in time. I’ll do some business and you’ll get to play the mobster’s girl,” he said, boyish amusement illuminating his face.

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When you landed, a pair of black SUVs and a whole security team was already waiting for you. One of the men opened the door for you, then shut it as you made yourself comfortable in your seat. Each time you saw those cars, you thought they held a little bit of magic—the way they moved all that stuff from place to place. How did those guys and those cars manage to keep pace with Massimo?

What broke your chaotic reverie, probably fueled by all those orgasms, were the words of your oppressor, uttered into your ear.

“I can't wait to be inside you,” he whispered, and his hot breath paradoxically chilled you to the bone. “To deflower that pretty tight pussy of yours. I’d like to feel your wet cunt close around my cock.”

Your breath hitched suddenly at his filthy words. You chose not reply and instead close your eyes and try to calm down the frantic beat of my heart. It grew a bit steadier. Out of nowhere, Massimo’s warm breath vanished, and you heard him saying something to the driver. The words were unintelligible, but after a few seconds, the car veered off the road and stopped. The man stepped out, leaving you two completely alone.

“Sit in the passenger seat in the front,” Massimo said, pinning you with his cold, black stare. He didn’t look like he was about to move himself, which seemed a bit strange.

What has gotten into him all of a sudden? Honestly, you didn't know if you could ever be able to handle his roller coaster mood swings...

“Why?” you asked, disoriented.

Massimo’s face took on an expression of annoyance, and his jaw clenched. “I’ll repeat it one last time: move or I’ll move you myself.”

Again, you couldn’t help it—his tone made your hackles rise. You wanted to resist, if only to see where it took you.

“You order me around like a dog. I am no dog.” you inhaled, intending to berate him for treating you like that, but you didn’t manage to utter another word. Massimo pulled you out of the car by force and then threw you into the front seat. He pulled your hands back, behind the backrest.

“Not a dog. A bitch,” he hissed, tying your hands with some kind of strap. Before you realized what was happening, you were sitting tied to the passenger seat, and the Man in Black sat behind the steering wheel. You started to wriggle your fingers, trying to feel your way around, turns out you'll never found out wutb what he tied you with.

“You like to tie women up?” you asked as he was fiddling with some settings on the dashboard.

“It’s not a question of preference in your case.”

He pressed the ignition button and a woman’s voice from the GPS directed him as he started to drive.

“My back hurts. And my arms,” you said after a couple of minutes.

“Well, I’m hurt, too, but for an entirely different reason. Want to compare?”

You knew he was angry or frustrated. You couldn’t differentiate between those two feelings in him, but you had no idea what you had done to cause this. And even if it wasn’t your fault, he was taking it all out on you.

“Ty cholerny, uparty egoisto,” you whispered in Polish. You damned, stubborn egomaniac. “As soon as you untie me, I’ll smack you so hard you’ll have to look for your teeth on the ground,” You ranted, still in Polish.

Massimo slowed down and stopped at a traffic light, turning to you and fixing you with a furious glare. “Now repeat that in English,” he growled.

You smiled disdainfully and spewed a whole litany of profanities in Polish—all directed at him. He didn’t move, but his glare was growing more furious by the second. As soon as the light turned green, he stepped on the accelerator.

“I’ll get rid of your pain. Or at least take your mind off it,” he said, his right hand found his to the cut of your skirt. His left hand was still on the steering wheel, but the right one slipped under your panties.

You squirmed and jerked in your seat, cursing him and begging him not to do it, but it was too late. “Massimo, I’m sorry!” you cried, trying to get out of his reach. “I’m not in pain anymore! And what I said in Polish—”

“Not interested in that anymore,” he said. “But if you don’t pipe down, I’ll have to gag you. I’d like to hear the GPS if you don’t mind, so shut up.”

His hand slid deeper into your underwear, and you felt a wave of panic flooding you. At the same time, you grew completely docile and stopped resisting.

“You promised you wouldn’t do anything against my wishes and be gentle,” you whispered, leaning back.

Massimo’s fingers irritated your clitoris smearing the wetness that slowly appeared by his touch.

“I’m not doing anything against your wishes. I’m just making sure your hands aren’t in pain anymore.” His touch was growing harder, and the circular motions were sending you down the abyss of his absolute power over you, as much as tried to resist it.

You squeezed your eyes shut and reveled in the feeling he was giving you. You knew he was acting on instinct—he had to divide his attention between two things: driving and punishing you.

You squirmed in your seat, when the car suddenly stopped. You felt his hand leaving, you thanked the universe for siding with you this time, not having to satisfy him with you orgasming again.

“We’re here,” Massimo announced, killing the engine.

You stared at him from half-closed eyelids. A voice in your head was screaming, raging and cursing him. You didn’t have to say it aloud. You knew well enough what his motivation had been. He wanted you to beg him. He wanted to show you how much you desired him, despite rebelling against anything and everything he said and did.

"That's great," you replied, rubbing at your wrists. They hurt so much. “I hope whatever was hurting you has stopped,” you said.

Here it was—that big red button in his head again. The Man in Black shot out with an arm, pulling you over himself, so you sat astride him with your back to the steering wheel. He grabbed you by the waist and pressed your cunt against his hard manhood. You gasped at his bold movement, raising your hips so you didn't sit on him.

“What hurts me,” he hissed, his fury threatening to boil over, “is that I haven’t used that mouth and pussy yet.”

His hips met yours again without your permission and were undulating lazily. That movement and the pressure of his penis made you breathless.

“And you won’t for a long, long time yet,” you whispered, “In fact, I have very much regretted what we did back in the plane.” you added deathly serious.

He froze, watching you closely, looking for answers to questions yet unasked, jaw clenched.

Your silent battle was interrupted by knocking on the window. Massimo lowered the glass, revealing the not-too-surprised face of Domenico. That guy certainly looks like he’s seen everything, you thought.

He said a couple of sentences in Italian, ignoring your position, and Massimo shook his head quickly. You had no idea what they were talking about, but it was clear the Man in Black wanted to have nothing to do with what Domenico was suggesting. When they were finished, Massimo opened the door and stepped out, keeping his hold on you.

You headed toward the hotel he had parked the car next to. You were still clutching him—he didn't let you down so you had no other choice, your legs around his hips. You could feel the surprised stares of the other guests as you passed them without a word, Massimo keeping a poker face.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ series masterlist ]

TAGLIST: ( THANK YOU ❤️ (if you want to be added comment in the chapters or send a message:) ) @lucidlivi , @sousydive , @lightdragonrayne

DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3

[ltash]

"Wicked" Pt-3

SimonGhostRileyxf!"Rose"reader

From her highschool bully to her wicked bodyguard, from Simon to Ghost.

Palm Jumeirah, Dubai - Midnight.

The lights inside the mansion flickered, once-just a glitch, a flutter of voltage-but Rose's pulse skipped all the same. It always did now. The walls felt too close. The air, too quiet. No house this beautiful should feel like a cage, but hers did. Behind its manicured gardens and imported marble, the mansion wasn't a home. It was a gilded prison.

Massimo had made sure of that.

She hadn't been allowed to leave in weeks. Her phone was replaced. Her laptop filtered. The staff now wore polite smiles that never met their eyes. Rose had grown used to surveillance: the cameras hidden in chandeliers, the microphones embedded in vent grilles, the locks that clicked shut when they weren't supposed to.

But she still had one ghost left in the machine.

She padded barefoot into the darkened study, the only room she was never searched in. Inside the antique desk drawer was a tiny circuit board connected to a hidden port-one she'd built herself back when she still had freedom. It looked like a piece of the HVAC system, but under the hood was a different story.

She was about to use her only remaining ally: an old AI security system she had personally installed before her staff were replaced. It's disguised under the house's climate control and lighting apps-Massimo's men never even noticed it.

Late at night, she writes a command.

A hidden SOS, encrypted and buried under code.

She can't name herself, can't give details.

Just:

Her fingers trembled as she typed into the dim screen.

>High-value civilian. Palm Jumeirah. Hostile containment. Request immediate covert extraction.

She uploads it to an old abandoned GitHub repo registered under a pseudonym she once shared with a boy who used to sit at the back of her chemistry class.

Simon Riley.

The message was anonymous. There was no name, no coordinates. Just metadata buried in lines of an old GitHub repository registered under a long-forgotten pseudonym.

A joke. A nickname from school. One she had once shared with a boy who never smiled.

She didn't even know if he was still alive.

She hit send.

And hoped the wind still remembered her name.

Location: Undisclosed SAS Safehouse, Northern England

Simon was SAS now. Special Forces.

Callsign: Ghost.

The alert came through on a cold Thursday night.

He monitors that GitHub repo out of habit. It's nothing but sentiment, a scar he keeps reopening.

He hasn't checked it in years.

Until he does.

Simon Riley sat in the quiet glow of his monitor, the rain painting war patterns against the window behind him. He barely touched the internet. Except for this.

He hadn't checked the repo in years. It was a dead habit, something he did every few months. Nostalgia with no reward.

Until he saw it.

> Last push: 2 hours ago.

Encrypted within the code wasn't just a distress call.

It was her.

Rose.

He didn't breathe for nearly a full minute.

Ghost stood slowly, fingers curling into fists as a cold burn lit up in his chest. He hadn't heard her name since he'd buried it. Since the night he left without a goodbye.

His blood runs cold.

Encrypted in the code is a name he hasn't heard in half a decade:

"Rose."

He goes to his superiors.

The request is unofficial. Shadow ops.

But the words hostile containment and high-value civilian raise flags.

It gets buried under a private bodyguard detail ordered by a powerful British defense ally with silent interest in Massimo's dealings.

No name. No address. Just Palm Jumeirah, high-value civilian, hostile containment.

Enough for an unofficial op.

And the name that gets assigned?

Lieutenant Simon Riley.

His name was the first one on the assignment.

48 Hours Later a black SUV rolled past the iron gates like it belonged there.

Rose stood in her hallway, arms wrapped around herself, watching from behind the curtains.

One man stepped out. Alone.

Massimo's guards stood straighter.

Tall. Broad. Black tactical gear that looked too sharp for Dubai's heat. A skull mask covering his face, balaclava beneath it. His eyes were cold, unreadable. Like winter.

He didn't speak as he passed the guards. Just handed a sealed letter.

Authorization for close protection detail.

One of Massimo's men, it said.

Rose didn't buy it. But she didn't argue.

She stood at the top of the stairs as he entered, heart hammering.

He looked up at her.

And she, she froze.

There was something about him.

Something terrifying and familiar.

"Who are you?" she whispered.

He stopped just a few steps from her, the skull mask gleaming under the crystal chandelier.

"Ghost," he said. Just that.

The name tasted like ash.

Her voice trembled. "You're one of Massimo's men?"

"Something like that," he answered. Low. Controlled. British accent like frostbite.

She swallowed. The fear in her blood was real. She'd seen hitmen. Thugs. Brutes.

But this one was different.

An Alpha among the wolves.

Massive, silent, lethal.

The black cargo pants hugged his powerful thighs like a sculptor's sketch in motion. Every inch of him said: do not cross.

She stepped back as he approached. He didn't follow.

"You don't have to be afraid of me," Ghost said quietly, almost too softly for a man like him.

But she was.

Terrified.

Because deep inside her, something screamed that she knew him.

And that scared her more than anything else.

The mansion was quiet. Too quiet. Not the peace of luxury, but the silence of surveillance, the kind of silence that watches you breathe.

Ghost stood by the edge of the marble balcony, framed by the dim amber of Dubai’s dying sun. The call had come. The assignment given. No backup, no fanfare, just a flight, a briefing, a skull mask, and a destination: Palm Jumeirah.

He hadn’t expected it to be real. The message hidden in the GitHub code had been too poetic to believe. Too her.

But it was real.

Rose was here.

And she was in trouble.

48 Hours Earlier, She had stared at the blinking cursor for what felt like hours.

> "High-value civilian. Palm Jumeirah. Hostile containment. Request immediate covert extraction."

No names. No cry for help. No traceable language.

Just enough to mean something, to the right person.

Rose encrypted the text in base-64, nested it into an update in an abandoned GitHub repository linked to a fake climate control API, something she and Simon had once joked about building back in school. Back when he was still just Simon. Before he disappeared like mist.

She hit commit.

And prayed.

Now...

The skull mask stepped through the threshold like a shadow that had grown legs. Black tactical gear. Gloves. Thick black cargo pants that stretched over thighs built like war machines. Combat boots that echoed like the ticking of an ending.

The guards nodded, not questioning his clearance. Massimo trusted him now. The cover had been placed well.

She was in the living room. Pale as bone, curled up in a silk robe on the ivory settee.

She looked up, and froze.

The skull.

The mask.

The height.

The weight of him was a presence.

“Who are you?” she asked, voice small, breaking.

He stood still.

"Name's Ghost," he said finally, voice deep and northern, cracked like winter pavement. "Massimo brought me in for security. I’m here to watch you."

Her brows creased, fear threading through the delicate angles of her face. “I don’t need another one of his men watching me.”

He tilted his head, slowly.

“No offense, but I’m not one of his men.”

Her throat worked. She stood, slowly. The robe fell just enough to show a bruise. Faint. But there.

His jaw ticked under the mask.

“I don’t trust anyone,” she whispered.

“Good,” he said. “That means you’re not stupid.”

A beat passed. The chandelier hummed above them.

She turned away, but not before he saw the tremble in her hands.

He had to earn her trust. Carefully. Quietly. Not with the truth, because the truth was dangerous. To both of them.

Not yet.

So he watched. And waited. And followed. Like a loyal shadow.

Simon Riley was gone.

There was only Ghost now.

And she didn’t know him.

Not yet.

But soon, she would.

The sun bled orange into the Gulf, casting golden ripples across the water as the massive white yacht sliced through the marina like a predator in silk. Palm Jumeirah, glittering like a crown in the ocean, had seen its fair share of luxury, but even here, the arrival of Don Massimo Toricelli turned heads.

Ghost watched from the top floor of the mansion through a sliver in the blackout curtain. He recognized the yacht, custom-built, three decks, helipad, and a private lounge with imported marble flooring. He’d studied it in the brief.

His yacht, a gleaming, multi-million dollar Leviathan, rocked gently in the turquoise water, tethered just off the private dock of her Palm Jumeirah estate. It gleamed like his ego, always visible, always looming.

Massimo was coming.

And that meant trouble.

The Italian stepped off the yacht with the confidence of a man who owned the world and everything in it. Black suit sharp enough to cut, sunglasses shielding eyes that never missed a detail.

The black Maserati had barely stopped outside the mansion before Massimo Toricelli stepped out, flanked by his two most loyal bodyguards. He wore his usual armour of a designer three-piece suit, sunglasses despite the low golden sun, and that chilling smirk that made Rose’s stomach turn. The man smelled of cologne and control.

He carried a box in his hand. Velvet black. The kind of box that didn’t contain anything simple.

Rose was summoned to the lobby. Always summoned, never invited.

Inside the mansion, Rose was being prepped. She didn’t want to go downstairs, Ghost could see it in her face. Her robe was replaced by a floor-length designer dress, her makeup immaculate. A doll on display.

She descended the marble staircase slowly, her every step echoing in the grand, hollow luxury of the mansion she couldn't escape. The lobby was vast, double height ceilings, Italian chandeliers, crystal vases she didn’t pick, all curated to reflect a life she no longer had control over.

He stood in the corner of the marble lobby, arms crossed, skull mask reflecting the light from the chandelier above. Every nerve in his body burned.

Then the door opened.

Massimo entered like a storm in human skin.

Massimo sat in one of the velvet armchairs like he owned the place. Because he did. Or at least, he owned the cage around her.

"Bellissima," he purred, his voice smooth and poisonous. “Dubai suits you.”

Rose managed a smile, tight, hollow. “Massimo.”

Ghost stood in the corner, near the mirrored console table. He was motionless, silent, a black sentinel in full tactical gear. Skull mask on. Hands behind his back. The perfect blend of menace and restraint.

Massimo glanced at him once, indifferent. "You can leave us."

Ghost didn’t move.

Rose lifted her chin. "He stays."

Massimo gave a faint chuckle and gestured dismissively. "As you wish, tesoro."

He reached into a bag one of his men handed him and pulled out a velvet box.

"Cartier," he said simply, like it was an apology. "For your good behavior."

She took it with stiff fingers, murmured a thank you that made her mouth taste like ash. The necklace inside was encrusted with diamonds. Cold. Lifeless. Like a chain pretending to be a gift.

Ghost’s hands curled into fists in the shadow of his sleeves.

Massimo’s eyes flicked toward him.

“And you must be the new shadow. What do they call you? Phantom? Skull?”

Ghost didn’t move.

“Ghost.”

Massimo chuckled. “Fitting. Let’s hope you’re as loyal as the last one.”

Rose shifted, her discomfort palpable. Ghost could feel it in her silence.

Massimo turned his attention back to her. “I’ve missed you. We’ll have dinner this weekend. I’ll have the chef flown in from Florence. You’ll wear the necklace.”

He leaned in closer, voice a whisper of threat and lust. “Say yes.”

She didn’t answer. Just nodded.

Massimo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You look tired. Are they feeding you well? Are you sleeping?"

Rose said nothing.

He smiled wider. "Still so stubborn. That’s what I like about you. We’ll talk again soon."

Massimo straightened, pleased with himself.

“Until then, cara mia.”

And then he stood. Kissed the air beside her cheek.

Left as quickly as he arrived.

He left the box in her hands and turned, his coat swaying as he walked out. The doors shut behind him.

Only then did Rose exhale.

Ghost stayed still. Watching. Planning. Rage crawling up his spine like wildfire.

He couldn’t move. Not yet.

He hadn’t called Task Force 141.

Because this wasn’t the moment.

But it was coming.

And when it did, Massimo wouldn’t walk away.

The moment the double doors shut and his footsteps faded, she turned and ascended the stairs quickly, almost running.

Ghost followed, his boots quiet behind her.

She reached her bedroom, the velvet box still clutched in her hand like it had burned her.

Once inside, she hurled it across the room. The lid snapped open. The necklace hit the floor with a sharp, cold clatter, scattering light across the marble.

She sat down beside it. On the floor. In her silk gown. Head bowed, fists clenched, tears pooling in her eyes like they had nowhere else to go.

Ghost stood by the door. Watching. Silent.

She didn’t notice when he stepped closer.

Until he knelt down beside her.

"You don't have to do what he says," he said softly.

She looked up, startled.

He reached forward, hesitantly, almost reverently, and wiped the tear trailing down her cheek with a gloved thumb.

Her breath hitched.

And then...

He extended his hand.

Palm up.

The same way she had, years ago, trembling in a glittering gymnasium, her heart in her throat as she offered her hand to a boy who never took it.

"You don't have to deal with this alone," he said gently.

Her eyes widened.

She stared at the hand. At the shape of it. The calloused palm. The curve of his fingers. So familiar.

Her voice was barely a whisper. "Simon...?"

He didn’t say anything at first.

Just nodded.

The silence cracked around them like thunder.

Her lips parted, her chest rising with a thousand emotions she couldn’t name.

He slowly removed the mask.

And there he was.

Simon Riley.

Older. Harder. Scarred. But still him.

His eyes locked onto hers.

"I came back for you, Rose."

And this time, when she took his hand, he didn’t let go.

[discobiscotto]

No context for you, tumblr! Not yet!

[hyper-with-magic]

I just wanted to appreciate this man for how good of a father he is, even to Alberto, who is not his child in the movie. Massimo shows how much he worries about his daughter to Giulia openly, which I think is beautiful, and he eventually opens up to Alberto in “Ciao Alberto”. I have seen people talk about the scene where he goes to search for Alberto, and also the scene in which Massimo tells Alberto about his own father.

Personally, I want to mention the fact that he defended Luca and Alberto from the townspeople near the end of the movie. This action could have backfired on him, but he still chose to follow his fatherly instincts for both his daughter, and her friends, by declaring them the winners.

Also, I believe he must have helped convince Giulia’s mom to take in Luca for the school year and take care of a kid she’d never met. I think this has to do with how much he means to Giulia and Alberto, and just him caring for Luca like another child that’s not his, but is in a way.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk!! (≧◡≦) ♡

[bowie-amia1]

I drew this piece last year for my birthday and never posted it.

[lucaluvrr]

Continuation of last post idk

[multific]

Made for You

Massimo Torricelli x Reader

Summary: In a world of power and betrayal, he stole you to hurt your father, but you stayed because he gave you a reason to fight back.

You always knew your life wasn’t your own.

Daughter of a mafia boss. Promised from the moment you were born. Groomed to be perfect. Silent. Obedient.

You wore luxury like armour, moved through your father’s estate like a ghost, and smiled for the man they swore would one day own you, a man with dead eyes and a cruel mouth.

And then came Don Massimo Torricelli.

He didn’t come with roses. He came with fire. Blood. Violence.

He stormed your family’s home in the middle of the night, masked men, gunshots, screaming. And you?

You were taken like a prize. Tossed into the back of a black SUV, blindfolded.

When the blindfold was torn away, he stood in front of you in, a dark suit, with darker eyes.

“This is war,” he said. “And you are the weapon.”

“I’m not a pawn.”

He smirked. “Then don’t act like one.”

You were locked away in his villa, gold and marble, guarded hallways, long corridors of silence and tension.

He never touched you. Never hurt you. Just watched.

He expected tears.

He got fire.

You refused his food for days. Smashed a glass on his floor. Called him a coward to his face.

He didn’t punish you.

He studied you.

“You’re not what I expected,” he said one night, voice low as he leaned against the doorway of your room.

You met his gaze. “Neither are you. I thought monsters had fangs.”

He laughed softly. “They do. But only when they’re hungry.”

More days passed. Then weeks.

Somehow, your prison started to feel less like a cage. He let you walk the gardens. Sit on the balcony. Read in his massive library.

He started joining you.

Not to control. Just… to talk.

You debated philosophy. Music. Literature. Politics.

And then one night—late, after wine, after hours of verbal sparring—you asked him the question you hadn’t dared before.

“Why did you take me?”

He didn’t lie.

“To hurt your father,” he said. “To send a message. To stop your marriage before it happened.”

You nodded slowly. “So I was leverage.”

“At first.”

His gaze held yours, steady and unflinching. “But now… now I wonder if I was the one taken.”

It changed after that.

He softened, just a little.

You laughed more. Ate meals together. Watched films. Read poetry by candlelight.

And one night, when your father sent men to take you back, Massimo killed every last one of them.

“I told them,” he said, hands bloodstained, voice trembling. “I told them not to touch you.”

You were shaking.

Not from fear but from something else.

The terrible, beautiful truth.

He didn’t just steal you.

He will protect you. From everyone, even your own blood.

“You don’t belong to anyone,” he told you the night he kissed you for the first time.

You looked up at him, breathless. “Then why do I feel like I was made for you?”

He groaned softly, forehead against yours.

“Because you were.”

Months passed. Peace came slowly.

Your father never tried again, Massimo made sure of it.

And when he got down on one knee, in the garden where you once tried to escape him, you didn’t hesitate.

“Yes,” you whispered.

Because love wasn’t supposed to come wrapped in gold. Sometimes, it came wrapped in fire.

And Massimo?

He was your fire.

Your home.

Your forever.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[hearmyheadcanon]

Luca

Massimo in the beginning: i hate sea monsters. i want to Kill them. Giulia, hand me my harpoon.

Massimo in the end: nvm i ended up adopting one of them his name is Alberto and he’s awesome

[licaonia]

♠️_C'è una strana emozione nello sbarazzarsi delle catene della buona decenza, come sfilarsi un abito troppo stretto alla fine di una lunga notte. La libertà non è sempre rumorosa; a volte è il clic silenzioso di un lucchetto slacciato, il morbido fruscio della seta sulla pelle nuda, l'audacia di scegliere il piacere piuttosto che la performance. Sarò qui, a godermela al massimo.🖤🌹

©️Licaonia Lupe

[wrestlingarsenal]

The graphic artist who produces the Squared Circle Magazine -- with issues available for a fee on Patreon -- recently posted his latest eZine depicting a sexy tournament battle between two spectacular muscle-gods. The issue is called "EWF17: Swinging for the Fences." Let's support this artist so he continues generating these high-quality wrestling comics featuring some really beautiful avatars.

Saturday Scissor Series

Some of my favorite images in Swinging for the Fences are found on pages 33-35 of the magazine, depicting an arrogant Headscissor by Massimo on his handsome bearded victim:

Great leg positioning!

Above we see a compelling image of Massimo's lean, hard body pouring on the pressure! I'm also drawn to the ruggedly handsome victim with his bearded face revealing the depth of his suffering, mere millimeters from his opponent's bulge. This artist is adept at capturing the eroticism of pro wrestling holds!

"Enjoying the show, ladies?"

To view more scenes from this eZine, download the "Swinging for the Fences" issue of Squared Circle Magazine on Patreon! Viewer discretion is advised because the action turns rather sexual after their trunks are yanked down later in the story...

[santaricotta]

A coworker pointed this out to me and I’m so mad I didn’t notice before but

Machiavelli has a chip in his ear on the same side of his body that Massimo’s missing an arm :((((