#massimo torricelli fanfiction

[thepaperpanda]

𝓓𝓪𝔂 7 - Mutual pleasure || Massimo Torricelli x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Massimo and you have a blast working on your mutual pleasure on the second date.

Warnings: smut (6️⃣9️⃣, unprotected p in v)

Word count: 1530

Author: Rouge

A/N: the prompt for today is: 69

You tossed your long Y/H/C hair over your shoulders and reapplied your red lipstick in the mirror. You looked at yourself one more time and smiled. You looked down at your iPhone.

Massimo had just texted to ask you to be a little late because he got held up in a meeting. You pulled around the block and waited several minutes, then texted him that you were outside.

You were freezing. You wore an oversized striped button down with a few buttons undone on the sides and enough buttons loose on the front to expose some cleavage. Additionally, you'd wear a black leather jacket, skinny jeans, and leather boots. To warm yourself up, you smoothed your hands over your curves. Massimo was the one you were hoping would warm you up. In spite of this, although you were pretty sure that you would have sex tonight, you weren't someone who would be that forthcoming.

Together, you went back inside his apartment.

From across the kitchen, he looked at you and you thought he was going to kiss you, but he just smiled and told you you had a good glasses game. You could feel yourself starting to get turned on as he bit his lip and complimented you, your pussy getting a little wet and your clit swelling just a little.

He looked at you across the couch after you ate the late supper and finally asked if he could kiss you. Although you were surprised he knew how to ask for something instead of demanding it, your heart exploded with desire as soon as his lips touched yours. As he moved his hands up and under your shirt, he moved you around on his lap and grabbed your cute, generous ass through your jeans.

"No bra, huh?" Massimo teased, playing with your hardened nipples.

"I wanted to give you easier access," you laughed briefly. You slowly moved your hips as you licked his neck and nibbled on his ear.

"I want to eat you out," Torricelli said, simply and matter of factly.

His directness and frankness about something you so desperately wanted amazed you. You didn't need to hear that twice. You let out a sigh and said, "Yes, please."

After taking your hand, he led you to the bedroom where he commanded you to lie on the bed, and then he unzipped your pants, pulling them over your hips and under your ass until he discarded them on the floor.

He took a moment to look at you before unbuttoning your shirt and kissing down your body, kissing your perky, round tits and teasing you with his tongue as he took your nipple in his mouth. You let out soft moans as he played with your tits, and used one finger to trace the slit between your pussy lips through your lacy panties.

"So fucking wet," he said to you as he bit his lip. "I can't wait to taste you, amore mio."

He kissed down your soft stomach and down your hips, and he spread your legs and pulled off your panties. He kneeled in front of you and started gently licking the entire length of your pussy with his whole tongue, avoiding her clit the first few times and then gently circling it with his tongue. You grasped the sheets underneath and tilted your head backward in pleasure letting out a long, loud moan.

"Fuck yes, that feels so fucking good. Jesus fucking Christ," you whispered, running the tip of your tongue along your upper lip.

He continued to gently and methodically lick and tease you. He then put two fingers inside of you and started stroking your sensitive spot while moving his fingers in and out of your soaking, throbbing pussy. You were ready to come, and couldn't hold it in any longer. He pumped his fingers in and out of you while he licked your clit with a rhythm that made you come, harder than you had in a long time. You thought Massimo would be done, but he waited until your first orgasm subsided. Torricelli continued to gently touch your G-spot as his fingers moved in and out of you. He licked around your inner lips until you were less sensitive and he moved back up to your clit. You came again, this time within seconds of his tongue touching your clit again.

You pulled him up and kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips; it was a delicious sensation. "You are really skilled, Massimo," you purred. You quickly undid his shirt and pants, and he helped you remove both his pants and boxers in one go. You looked at him, straddled him, and kissed him passionately. As your tongue explored his mouth, you could still taste your pussy. As you kissed him down his neck and chest, you played with his chest hair, and you licked each of his nipples. After reaching down, you gently stroked his cock as you made your way between his legs and knelt between them. 

You made sure to catch his eye, and before you could take him in your mouth, he said, "You know, I jerked off a few times earlier today thinking about this."

You licked your lips, smiling at him mischievously.

He looked you in the eye and whispered, "You're so fucking hot, Y/N."

You licked around the head and then took his whole cock in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, choking on him, as you moved your mouth up and down as he got harder and harder. You started playing with his balls with your spare hand at his request, gently caressing them and then licking down his cock and taking them in your mouth.

Massimo moaned deeply.

You took him in your mouth again, licking your way up and down his cock before deep throating him again.

He pulled you up to him and said, "I want you to ride my cock."

You straddled him quickly and used your hand to guide him inside you. You both moaned as he entered your wet pussy. You rode his cock, Massimo played with your tits, you used one hand to play with his balls and moaned as they moved your hips together, making sure he got as deep inside you as possible.

You looked at him and claimed, "You know, I wanted you to watch me touch myself..."

As you rode his cock, you circled your clit with your index and middle fingers and told him how good it felt to have him inside you. In a matter of minutes, you would reach another climax and your pussy would constrict around his cock. As you breathed in, you uttered, "Oh my god, that feels so fucking good."

As soon as Massimo pulled away from you, he laid down on his side and told you he wanted to try the sixty-nine.

You couldn't pass up another opportunity to let him lick your pussy; you were already dreaming about his soft tongue exploring your soft folds. Straddling his face slowly, you leaned down and took his cock in your mouth again. At first, your tongue swirled around his tip before you took his entire length into your mouth, resting his tip against the back of your throat, gagging a bit, and feeling tears form in the corners of your eyes as you did.

Your folds were slowly dragged up and down by Massimo's tongue. With one of his strong hands, he spread your pussy lips to gain better access. He then stuck his tongue into your pussy, trying to lick your inner walls that were already so slick from your previous orgasm that his cock twitched as he tasted you.

You moaned loudly around his cock, sending vibes through his member.

As Massimo flicked his tongue up and down your clit again, he nestled his free hand onto the crown of your head, pushing you closer to his groin. Eventually, he stopped eating you out and spat on your exposed clit, eliciting a loud whimper from you. "Does it feel good, huh?" Torricelli asked, his voice husky.

You whimpered after pulling his cock out of your mouth with a loud pop. "Yes, oh God, yes!"

Massimo chuckled and started eating your pussy again; his middle and index fingers soon joined his tongue, stretching your pussy out nicely.

"Fuck!" You muttered loudly and returned to sucking on his throbbing cock.

You licked and sucked each other until you both came.

When he spurted his thick cum into your mouth, you swallowed it all like a good girl.

As your pussy clung around his fingers, Massimo swallowed all of your juices that poured out of your cunt and cleaned you up with his tongue.

After getting off him, you were tucked in his strong arms, as his hands ran up and down your back, teasing your spine and sending chills all over your naked, hot body.

"Amore mio, è stato perfetto," a loving whisper brushed against your ear before Massimo bit on your earlobe gently.

You sighed and rubbed his forearms, smiling widely to yourself. Another smutty intercourse was already on your agenda.

#massimo torricelli smut #massimo torricelli x reader #massimo Torricelli x you #massimo torricelli x y/n #massimo torricelli #massimo torricelli fanfic #massimo smut fanfic #365 days x reader #writers on tumblr #massimo torricelli writing #massimo torricelli oneshot #massimo torricelli imagine #365 days fanfiction #paperpanda kinktober #kinktober 2022

[buckyownsmylife]

Can’t seem to make you mine - Massimo Torricelli smut

The one where someone makes the mistake of hitting on you in front of Massimo.

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex, dirty talk, curse words.

A/N: This is... not my best work. Sorry. I was so excited to write about Don Massimo, mostly because everytime I read/watch something that I feel like it’s poorly written, I have the urge to correct it in someway or another. But alas, I’m tired, unmotivated and in a lot of pain. So I’m trying to keep this up as best as I can. Day 8 of kinktober, the prompts were possessiveness and knowing someone can hear you.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I knew things would go south the second I felt Lucca’s eyes on me for the first time. We’d barely stepped inside the house where the dinner was being held, and I shivered despite the comfortable temperature of the environment.

It wasn’t the exciting kind of shiver, either, the one Massimo could elicit in me without trying. It was the one that appeared when we were certain that something bad was going to happen, like a premonition in itself, trying to warn us away from whatever course of action we’d decided for the evening.

Except this particular evening wasn’t in my hands. I hadn’t been the one to plan it and had only come after a lot of insistence on Massimo’s part, after he whined about having to spend the night away from me because of some stupid business dinner and that if I didn’t go, he might as well give up the whole ordeal and skip on the meeting himself.

I knew he was playing dirty, but at the same time, I loved the idea that he just needed me that much. So I put on a simple red dress and accompanied him into the house of one of his oldest associates, ready to be bored out of my mind as the men discussed numbers or murders behind closed doors while the women and other guests mingled and drank the night away. 

The problem was that I didn’t have any friends amongst the other people invited, having long ago been ostracized by the trophy wives and sugar babies when they realized I actually had a job and didn’t depend on Massimo for a living. So all I had to keep me company was the bartender hired for the evening and whatever amount of whiskey I could drink before Massimo decided to leave.

“Not the kind of drink I expected to see a woman like you enjoying.” Fourteen words and I already felt like puking. I didn’t bother to turn to look at him as I rolled my eyes to the polite man behind the counter, who simply gave me a sympathetic smile.

“Oh, well. The more you know,” was all I said, keeping my voice distant and detached as I twirled the liquid in my hands and prayed to the heavens the blond man by my side decided to give up before Massimo noticed him standing too close.

“Yes, well… I would very much like to know more of you.” Fuck. I really was gonna have to be upfront about it.

Sighing, I finally turned to stare at the man I’d been briefly introduced to after arriving.

“And I’m sorry to report that the interest isn’t reciprocated, but I’m here with Massimo and for Massimo, so if you can just leave me be, I’d greatly appreciate that.” Lucca blinked a few times, his pretty little smile almost falling from his face, like he didn’t actually expect to be dismissed.

There was something off about the whole situation. I could understand hitting on a girl without knowing she had a date, maybe when she had one, if you thought you could take on the guy, but he’d seen me with Massimo. Did he not know who my boyfriend was? Was he somehow unafraid of Don Torricelli? 

Both ideas sounded ludicrous, and it only made my skin crawl with mistrust. Just what was this guy’s endgame? Despite the momentary break in his mask, he quickly returned to his wanna-be charming self, his predatory smile still directed at me.

“Well, he’s not here now, is he? I’m sure he wouldn’t even notice if you followed me upstairs and…” I didn’t even realize what I was doing until it was done and Lucca was staring back at me with his mouth hanging open, the whiskey that was once in the glass in my hands now dripping from his expensive suit.

The chatter all around the room had stopped, too, everyone’s eyes on us as I tried very hard to control my own breathing. The nerve of this man, thinking I would EVER consider cheating on Massimo, much less with someone as sleazy as him!

“Principessa?” I heard my boyfriend’s voice approaching, but I was still trembling from the anger running in my veins. “What is going on, my love?” Massimo’s hands engulfed me, wrapping themselves around my body before pulling my back to meet his chest, and for the first time since he had left me to talk to his partners, I felt myself becoming calmer. 

“This man thought he could seduce me,” I explained coldly, my eyes still connected to Lucca’s as he wiped the drink from his face with a handkerchief the bartender had produced from behind the counter. I was expecting to see fear appear in his face, or at least for him to lose some of the vivacity that was still behind his eyes, but when no change appeared other then the loss of his smile, since his lips were now pressed together in a tight line, I was left even more confused.

“Is that so?” Massimo asked, clicking his tongue from behind me, his fingers possessively holding onto my hips. I could hear that at least he was amused by the situation, from the tone of his voice, but I had no idea why. “Will you look at that? I’m sorry to disappoint you, Lucca, I’m sure you’ll find someone else to fuck away your resentment towards me later tonight. For now, excuse me and my girlfriend, I wanna make sure that she’s okay.”

My boyfriend’s reaction was so unexpected to me that he practically had to drag me away from the living room where all eyes were still on us, taking me to one of the hallways where I assumed the bathrooms were located.

“Massimo!” I whisper-shouted, absolutely frazzled by his and everyone else’s behavior that evening. “What the hell is going on?” But Massimo didn’t seem in the least worried about my own confusion, his eyes drinking me in against the maroon walls of the hallways with even more desire than earlier in the evening, when I had to force him to leave our bedroom so we could make it on time for this dinner. “Massimo!” I tried again, finally breaking him from his trance as he blinked twice before connecting his eyes with mine, licking his lips.

“What was it, baby girl? You really look delectable tonight, have I told you that before?” He answered, leaning over me until I was trapped between his body and the wall, my irritation suddenly disappearing to give place to the instinctive desire that filled my body everytime Massimo came near me. Especially when he was nuzzling on my neck like he was doing right at that moment.

“Yes, you have. Massimo, what’s going on?” I asked, suddenly startled by the realization that he was working on opening his belt. “What are you doing? Massimo, we can’t do this here!” I admonished him, but he already had a grip over himself, his other hand swiftly looking for my panties before pushing it away and plunging a thick finger inside of me, checking my wetness.

“Oh, we can and we will. You know why, principessa?” He picked me up like I weighed nothing, and I wrapped my legs around him instinctively, my head falling back against the wall as one of his hands rubbed the thick head of his cock against my clit. “Because you are mine.”

Feeling Massimo stretch out my walls was something that took the breath away from me every single time he first pushed in, it didn’t matter how many times I had him inside of me. He was always too fucking large, his cock too fat for my pussy - especially when he didn’t gave me the proper preparation, like now. 

“And you’ll let me do whatever I want with this perfect body, won’t you? Especially after one of my biggest enemies had the nerve to try to hit on you.” Gasping, I held onto Massimo’s nape as I tried my best to contain my moans by biting my lower lip. “None of that, baby girl, I want you to scream my name. Show him you’re mine and only mine. C’mon, cum for me. Scream my name. Let them all know you belong to me. That I own this fucking pussy.”

The sounds of my wetness and his body meeting mine were certainly being heard throughout the room by now, how much worse could it be if I simply relented and fulfilled my very possessive and incredibly insecure boyfriend’s wishes? I’d never truly know, because then Massimo’s thumb met my clit and I was instantly out of control of my own body, screaming his name as my cunt milked his cum inside of me.

“I don’t know how to get back there,” I admitted, embarrassed just by the thought of walking out into the very fancy dinner after they had all but witnessed me getting railed by the smug Don that looked unfairly sexy after our franctic lovemaking. 

“With your head high, knowing you’re the only one who can make me lose my mind like that, and my cum dripping down your legs. Now let’s go, bella.”

#massimo torricelli smut #smut #massimo torricelli #my fics #kinktober #kinktober 2020 #massimo torricelli reader #massimo torricelli fanfiction #365 dni smut #massimo torricelli writing #massimo torricelli oneshot #massimo torricelli imagine

[mrsavery]

I am not going anywhere

Massimo Torricelli x Reader

Warning: Smut, curse words, fighting.

Summary: You are Massimo’s mistress that he fucks every night wants. One day you get enough and want to leave, because you have fallen in love with him.

Words: 2329

Note: The text in cursive means that they are having a conversation in Italian.

You had enough of him, of his body, voice, and touch. You were tired of not being able to be his, not being able to call him yours, not being able to tell how much he meant to you. The last few months were filled with pain and sadness, as he continued to come and go in the nights. He did not see the pain in your eyes, the tears that fell after he was gone. You were just a toy for him that he used whenever he wanted.

It all started with a one-night stand two years ago. You were on a family vacation and decided to walk around the city alone, while your parents and siblings decided to go shopping. You never liked shopping, and as usual you went your own way. The city was magical, and you spent hours walking around, taking pictures, and learning more about the history from a few guides that were with a group of tourists.

Around six in the evening you decided to finally return to your hotel and meet your family for a diner. On your way there you were too distracted by the beautiful pictures on your phone that you ran in the man.

“Please forgive me!” You said in Italian without looking up. You had learned Italian in school, and this one of the rare places where you could use it. Nobody in your family spoke Italian, since you decided to learn it instead of German, and in your country, there was no need to use this language.

When you moved away and looked in the eyes of the man you had run into, you were taken aback by his features. He had short, midnight black hair and piercing brown eyes that bore into your soul and made your knees weak. He was powerful and dangerous, you could see that by his posture, clothes and two bodyguards behind hm.

You did not want to get into trouble with this Italian god, so you apologize again, ignoring his hands on your waist and butterflies in your stomach. “I am truly sorry for running into you. I was in my own world and did not watch where I was going. If there is anything I can do – “

His hand moved from your waist to your arm, and you stopped talking. “Go out with me.” He said and with that everything started.

You spent almost every night of your vacation with him, and when it was time to leave, Massimo persuaded you to stay. Your family supported your choice, but made you promise that you would fly home and visit them as often as you could. As they left, you found a nice and affordable place in the city, ignoring the fact that Massimo wanted to pay for it. You had stayed here not only because of Massimo, but because of yourself too. You knew that Italy would be the best place for you to find yourself, be yourself and most importantly be happy. Back in home you did not feel happy, but here things were different.

You got the job as an architect and divided your time between it and Massimo. He came every night, sometimes took you to his house and sometimes took you out on dates. Soon enough your one-night stand had changed into an arrangement where you spent each night with him. No strings attached, no feelings involved, no sleeping with other people.

Without realizing, you had fallen for him. You loved everything about him, his voice, his eyes, his touch… everything. As your day went, you thought about Massimo and counted hours to see him. When he was getting ready to leave you in early mornings, you silently prayed for him not to leave, but Massimo never stayed.

The few last months were hell for you because your feelings grew stronger and stronger, and you were not able to stop them. This whole thing was hurting you, and you decided to do the only thing you could to make the pain go away – leave.

You were almost done packing your things when your doorbell rang. It was two in the day, and you had taken a day off to pack your things and write a goodbye letter for Massimo, knowing that you will not be able to look into his eyes. You walked to your front door, wiped away the tears that had fallen, and opened doors without asking. Massimo had made sure that you lived in a safe neighborhood and that no one would ever try to lay a finger on you.

You cursed under your breath when you realized that the person in front of you was Massimo. He changed all your plans, and with him here it will be harder to leave, but you will have to do it. There was no other way how to end the pain in your heart. “What are you going here?” You asked him.

“This is not how you greet me, baby girl!” He said louder that he was usually talking and stormed in the apartment. “Are you going anywhere?”

You rolled your eyes and closed the doors. “I am leaving.”

These three words made Massimo stop and turn around to face me. “What do you mean? Where are you going?”

“Home.” You moved around the room and stood in front of a carbon box, where you had put all the things Massimo had given to you over the two years. You took it in your hands and went to Massimo who was watching you with a furious expression. “Here are all the things you have given to me. I am returning them all to you.” That made him angrier.

Massimo took the box out of your hands and threw it on the floor near your feet. “You are not going anywhere, [Y/N]!”

“You don’t have any right to tell me what I can or cannot do!” You shouted in reply.

He walked closer to you, but you took a step back. “Baby girl, you are forgetting who I am and what can I do.”

You laughed and moved even further away from him. You were not afraid of him, and you will not let him get under your skin. “I don’t care who you are, Massimo. The only person who would have any right to say something in this case would be my husband, but I do not have him, so I am making my own decisions. I am leaving, and nothing is going to stop me from doing that.”

Massimo was even angrier than before. If a look could kill, you would be dead right now. It took him two second to be in front of you and trap you between his body and the wall. “What are you – “

“Shut the fuck up!” He almost shouted in your face. Now you were scared. You have never seen Massimo like this, and it was scaring you. “You are not going anywhere; do you understand me? You. Are. Not. Going. Anywhere.”

You closed your eyes, without wanting to look at his beautiful but painful face. You were on the edge of crying, and you did not want him to see you crying, because you did not want to look weak in front of him. You were strong, and you knew it, and because of that you decided to leave this all behind.

“Why are you doing this to me?” You whispered in the silent room. The only thing that could be heard were our breaths.

“Why are you leaving?” He asked me in return.

“Don’t you see it? Are you really that blind?” You opened your eyes and let the tears fall. This was not the way how you imagined telling him about your feelings. You never imagined telling him about your feelings at all, since you were just a fuck buddy for him. Your eyes met his dark ones, and you poured your heart our through the tears. “I am fucking in love with you, Massimo! And I cannot keep letting you to fuck me every night and then leave, knowing that you will never love me! I am tired of crying my heart out every night, I cannot -”

Massimo did not let you finish, because he kissed you with a force. His hands went around your waist, and he pressed you harder into his embrace. You tried pushing him away, but his hold on you was too strong.

“Stop fighting me, woman!” Massimo said, after you did bite hard onto his lower lip, resulting with blood coming from the wound.

“Then let me go, jerk!” You fought against his hold, but not every single one of your attempts changed the situation. You were still in his arms, and Massimo was a long way away from letting you go.

“Never, my love, never.” Massimo moved his face closer to yours, and this time you did not protest, knowing that it would not change anything. You were trapped under his strong body, without a chance to get free. Tears were still falling from your cheeks, but Massimo managed to wipe them away with his hand.

He looked into your eyes. “I love you. I have loved you from the moment you ran into my arms that day.” Massimo smiled, moved his head closer to mine and pressed a light kiss on my forehead. “I thought that you would never love me, and that is why I continued to come here every night. I could not let you go, and, at the same time, I could not reveal my feelings for you. I was afraid that you would – “

You could not believe what he was saying. Massimo, the man you thought would never love you, admitted his feelings for you. He was in love with you, and it was everything to you. You forgot about your plans, about the position you were in, about time and place. You forgot everything and did the only thing that felt right at that moment – you kissed Massimo, pouring all your love into the kiss.

You moved your hands from his chest and wrapped them around his neck to move his head closer to yours. Your lips started to move in one rhythm, and you opened your mouth to allow Massimo’s tongue to enter. As you continued to kiss, he took you in his arms and moved to the bed.

“Fuck the clothes!” With one fast movement Massimo threw your suitcase off the bed, and all your things fell on the floor.

You helped to take of his black dress shirt by ripping it apart. The buttons flew everywhere, and it made Massimo chuckle. He freed you of your shirt and then shorts, leaving you only in your gray underwear. You were able to see desire in his eyes, as he took a step back to take of his pants and look at your body.

You bit your lower lip at the view in front of you. A hot and very naked Italian god was standing in front of you, ready to take you. Scars and tattoos covered his body and made him look even hotter in your eyes. “Such a tease.” Massimo groaned, as he climbed over you.

You felt his member against your wet core and that turned you on even more. You closed your eyes, as his hands started to move over your stomach, towards your breasts. Massimo grabbed your breasts through the bra, and you pulled his hair when he bit into your neck.

While he was kissing your bare neck and shoulders and at the same time massaging your breasts, you grew impatient. Massimo moved lower and lover, and his lips found your breasts. He took of your underwear and took your left nipple in his mouth. He sucked and bit it, and with every movement you pulled his hair harder and harder.

While he continued to tease you by kissing and licking your body, you grew impatient and squeezed his member with your hand. Massimo hissed in return and stopped his actions, only to move higher and meet your lips. “I. Want. You. Now. Massimo.” You said between kisses and pressed your lower body closer to his. You were ready and wet for him. 

With one fast movement he trusted into you. Your walls wrapped themselves around his body, and you both moaned from the sensation. This was the first time when Massimo was inside you without any barrier. You could perfectly feel his long and hot member moving inside and outside you.

At this moment you did not care about getting pregnant. Everything was possible, and even if you would get pregnant, the baby would be loved by you and Massimo. You both had though about family together, but never talked about it loudly since both were afraid of rejection. You were afraid that he would leave you if you got pregnant, Massimo, on the other hand, was afraid that you would do an abortion.

Just like you, Massimo understood that from this moment everything changed, but most importantly, your relationship. You did know where this will go, but you knew only one thing – you will be in this together.

His trusts became faster and harder, and brought you closer to your release. “Let it go, baby girl.” Massimo groaned and then kissed you when you finally let it go and came. A Few trusts later he came too, spilling his hot seed inside you.

“I love you, Massimo.” You pressed a light kiss on his nose and smiled. “So, so much.”

Massimo took his member out and moved to the side to take you in his arms. Your head rested on his chest, and you felt his heartbeat under your hands. “You are my world, my everything. My heart is beating for you, and that is the reason why I cannot let you go.”

You moved your head to look at his face and with a smile said, “I am not going anywhere, not anymore.”

#365 days #365 dni #massimo torricelli #michele morrone #massimo torricelli x reader #365 days imagine #365 days fanfiction #365 days fic

[donmassimotorricelli]

Have you read any fanfics of massimo and laura? If yes do you have any favourites??

I love read fanfics, although there's no many authors that write about Massimo.

And I do have a favorite and is the "Tag - you're it" series from @chasing-classics . It's absolute perfection. 💕❤️ It's really worth to check it out.

#massimo torricelli #365 days #365 dni #365 days fanfiction #365 days fic #365 days imagine #massimo torricelli imagine

[teaenthusiast65]

Dolunay Crossover

At this point, I’m pretty sure everyone has watched everything on netflix. 

From foreign cinema to porn from the cinema. And I thought, why not combine the two together? 

My favourite finds during this quarantine have been the Turkish series Dolunay, hello Ferit Aslan! 

Hello to Can Yaman in general really. Erkenci Kus and Bay Yanlis have also been some enjoyable viewing, I highly recommend. 

Then there was the Turkish series Ramo. Only the first season! Thirty minutes into the second season I called it quits, I couldn’t do it. But the first season is about two rival families; high class mobsters vs lower class gangsters. To stop the blood-shed between their families, they go old school and make the respective heirs of each family get married. 

Surprise, surprise, they hate each other but that hatred soon turns into respect... then admiration... then love. 

Arranged/Fake marriage, hatred to love... you guys see where I’m going with this? Dolunay meets Ramo.

Then there was the soft porn that was 365 Dni / 365. Days. A polish-italian-english smut fantasy that was made into a movie! 

Basically, the story is about an Italian gangster who had a near death experience, where he saw this woman, who made him want to live; don’t walk towards the light and all that jazz. 

He becomes obsessed with finding this woman and when he does, he kidnaps her! He tells her that he will keep her for one year (hence the name of the movie) and if after that time she doesn’t fall in love with him, he’ll let her go. His way of trying to get her to love him, is buying everything she wants, whisking her away on trips around the world and having a bunch of hot/crazy sex. The sex being consensual and when she’s ready.

So romantic... at least by Tumblr and fanfic standards. 

But the main character, Massimo, played by Michele Morrone, is some serious eye-candy; Italian class mixed with American bad-boy. 

Side Note: already coming up with a 365 Dni / 365 Days crossover fanfic with the Turkish show Ramo. 

But as someone so controlling, business orientated, arrogant and cold demeanour, it reminded me so much of Ferit Aslan in Dolunay that of course, a crossover story formed in my mind. 

I mean, given how controlling Ferit is, I don't think it’s TOO MUCH of a stretch to think he could kidnap someone in an attempt to make them love him. I mean, the whole employment contract with Nazli and then buying her restaurant, its all  in the same crazy-controlling-love. 

So I thought I would throw this idea out into the universe, or at least Tumblr, of a crossover fanfic between Dolunay and 365 Dni/365 Days, to see if this is something anyone would read or like to read. 

Quarantine has put my brain into overdrive and I dont know which of my ideas are good anymore! I’m hoping you Can Yaman/Dolunay fans will tell me. 

Feel free to like, comment or message me to let me know your thoughts. 

--Tea Enthusiast 

#fanfiction #fanfic #Dolunay #365 days #365 dni #can yaman #ferit aslan #michele morrone #massimo torricelli #ramo #erkenci kuş #bay yanlış #story writing #new story #netflix #qaurantine #CrossOver #Crossover fanfiction

[qveenmikaelson]

I’d Like To Start By Saying Thank You For Reading. Like, Comment, Reblog 💜 . Also I Don’t Have A Set Writing Schedule Yet So Please Bare With Me

Updated 9/5/2020

Klaus Mikaelson

Kol Mikaelson

Marcel Gerard

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Barry Allen

Massimo Torricelli

Sam Wilson (Falcon)

T’challa

Thor

Steve Rodgers

Tag List: @nebulastarr @posiemax @mjaudrey @akshi8278

#imagines #365 days #massimo #massimo x laura #massimo x reader #michele morrone #klaus mikaelson #massimo torricelli #the orginals #the flash #supernatural fanfiction #masterlist #marvel #barry allen #sam and dean

[dearest-alexander]

Hither and Thither Chapter II- 365 DNI fanfic

Summary: She saved him, in so many ways a man could be saved. Massimo x Laura. 

Read it here! I’m not that active in Tumblr. Check these sites for updates. 

AO3 

FANFICTION

CHAPTER II- Search and Rescue

Sicily, Italy

He was staring at the ceiling fan for what almost felt like hours. He was hoping, in some way, that the blades whirring above could distract him from his overworked brain.

He couldn't sleep. He didn't want to.

By some reason, the nightmares were more constant these past few weeks. He would wake up in the middle of the night, sweating; his mouth in a half scream. His hands instinctively going to his side, to the scar that hurt the most. He was expecting the warm, thick liquid seeping out of him, draining his life. One spill at a time.

Sleeping was not an option anymore.

And as the stressful nights increased, thinking of her became the automatic alternative.

The only alternative.

As it had been for the past five years.

He closed his eyes, recounting the only and best part of that day.

The raven-haired, dark eyed beauty.

Stay with me. Her voice resounded.

For five years, he's haunted by her image, the sound of her voice, the gentle warmth of her hands. For five years, he's been trying to fill the void, she unknowingly opened. And for five, long years, he's been scouring around the world to find her.

No one could confirm that she was real. Except Alek whose description of the day solidified his determination to find her.

She saved him.

All hell broke loose once they exchanged gunfire. A stampede ensued in the marketplace. Alek managed to drive through the commotion, the woman was still with them. She refused to leave him, even as his other bodyguard, Theo, threatened her. Even then, as they reached the packed hospital.

They rolled him to the emergency room. But en route, due to blood loss, organ failure and shock, he went straight into cardiac arrest. Alek told him how, without hesitation, the woman jumped into the hospital bed, straddled his chest and revived him.

She had single-handedly brought him back. No medical instrument needed.

When he woke up a few days later, the woman wasn't there. Nobody could tell him who and where she was. She didn't leave anything behind. The hospital CCTV cameras didn't get a decent snap of her. The swarm of victims from the stampede, and their relatives didn't help either. He didn't fret about it. He thought that with his connections, he'll find her in a heartbeat. He was complacent, he could find her.

How wrong he was.

From the way she acted professionally, they speculated she was a doctor or a nurse. Or something related. He ruled out her being a doctor, because she looked no more than 30.

Unless she's some kind of prodigy.

He began his search again in the hospitals in Cefalú. Then to local clinics, schools, then volunteer groups, and laboratories. When she wasn't, he tried the nearby town. And the next town. And the next town. And the next. The whole country. The continent. It took a whole solid year.

Sensing that he might've misjudged something, he changed his focus to airports, then to hotels. The tourists that visited the country, spanning to three to six months that summer. He started with Cefalú again. But, even that was still unsuccessful.

It was arduous work, he was aware of it. It's about to be the craziest thing he'd ever done (and he did plenty). But nobody had the gall to call him crazy. Not to his face, anyway.

To be honest, he almost wanted to give up. He wanted to accept defeat for the first time in his miserable life. Without a single progress over the years, he had questioned himself if she was even real. But whenever he did, he would try to distract himself on the endless queue of ladies on his bed.

But the harder he tried to forget her, the memory became more vivid, more real. All his efforts to forget her will be futile. He's back to square one. He'll eventually find himself scanning the reports his people will give him the next day.

What was it about that woman that makes her so damn hard to forget?

Her tenacity?

Her kindness?

Her willingness to save a stranger?

Save him?

The questions were making him restless all these years. He wasn't used to not knowing, not having the thing he wanted. He figured it'll all be answered when—not if—he finds her.

Sometimes, he would daydream of the day he'll finally find her. What would be the first thing he'll do? He didn't know a single thing about romance. He reminisced about those sweet things his father did for his mother when she was still alive. All the things he could remember from his 8-year old memories. He figured, he'd thank her first. Wouldn't that be a first?

Then take her to dinner?

Give her flowers?

Take her shopping?

Give her jewelry?

All that romantic shit he swore he'd never do.

He recalled the old conversations he had with his father. He'd tell him how he met his mother, how she made the notorious Don Victorio Torricelli puny in her arms.

"Women are heaven for the eyes and hell for the soul." His father would tell him.

And he would add, in a cheeky tone. "And purgatory for the wallet."

But he had a tingling, annoying feeling, she'd be worth every euro. Hell, she could spend all his money and he wouldn't care less.

He had never had a more disturbing thought than that.

The woman next to him stirred and snuggled closer to him. She kissed his chest and opened her eyes.

For a moment, he anticipated the gray eyes that tortured his dreams and reality. Instead of the haunting grays, the eyes staring back at him in wonder were deep violet. Like amethyst —cynical, majestic and arrogant. A true reflection of the woman beneath.

He looked away, disappointed.

She was beautiful, perfect, powerful, flawless in every way, even he could admit that. With her dirty blonde hair, tan complexion, long legs and lean physique, men and women bow at her feet.

She was a good diversion, a good release for all the pent up frustration of his existence. He could tell that it was the same for her. For the first few years, anyway.

"Awake already?" She asked against his shoulder, clutching the blanket keeping her decency. "How can I never tire you out?"

He stretched his arms above him and under the pillow to his head. He watched the fan blades again, nonchalant to the kisses she started. Her hand started trailing downwards, tempting. But not tempting enough.

"Fermata."

"You weren't saying that earlier." She said between kisses. Her nails raking his abdomen, down, down.

There was nothing more irritating than disobedience. He clasped her wrist. "I said, stop."

He threw the covers and picked up his pants, phone, and his gun on her bedside table. He didn't need to look at her to see or feel her violet eyes digging holes in his back. He was buttoning his shirt when she spoke.

"Ti amo."

He sighed, his fingers couldn't close around his buttons faster.

"Ti amo, Massimo." She repeated, a little louder this time.

He raised his eyes and unsurprised to see her glistening eyes. "Don't make this hard, Anna."

She sat forward, the blanket, no longer her concern. It slid down her breasts, pooling down her wide hips. "Why not?"

Fuck, why are women so complicated?

He knew he should've gone to Magdalena or Althea instead.

He didn't answer her. He grabbed his suit jacket over the chair, but before he could put it on, he heard her said,

"It's because of her isn't it? That woman."

He stopped, but remained his position- his back to her.

He heard get up, her naked feet treading on the wooden floor. To him.

"You thought that I wouldn't find out that you're still looking for her? After all these years?" Her voice, croaked yet poisonous.

He muttered a curse. A jealous Anna was as dangerous as a hungry lioness.

"Don't you think it's time to give up, Massimo? It's pointless. You will never find-"

The remaining patience in him snapped. He faced her, his hand immediately closing around her throat. He felt a sense pride surge in him when he saw the flicker of fear in her violet eyes.

"Don't."

Anna grabbed the hand holding her throat and faked a confident smirk.

"You will never find her." She enunciated in a tone meant to dishearten him.

He tightened his hold on her jaw. And the fear in her eyes pulsed.

He hissed, truth staining his words, "And you will never be her."

Her eyes widened and he swore he heard something inside her iciness, break.

He released her.

Anna stared at him, her eyes watering. He should be sorry. Or apologize, or feel remorse, feel something, whatever people fool themselves with. But he doesn't. The cavity where his heart would be was only a hollow, corrupted emptiness.

Fuck manners.

Fuck tradition.

Fuck Mario and his dream of marrying a Torricelli to a Rizzuto.

"I can't do this anymore." He said.

And this time, he knew he meant it.

He passed her and put his jacket. He headed towards the door, not the very least concerned that Anna might point a gun on him.

She, of all people, knew better than that.

The mansion was dark and empty, but her men lurk every corner. He went down the grand staircase, the candles on the walls were his guide. He heard and saw his and Anna's guards huddled around the table in the foyer. They were knee-deep in a game of poker. And from the boisterous shrieks of her men, his team was losing. Domenico was laughing, but when he met his eyes, he cleared his throat. The men scurried with their spoils, stuffing them in their pockets.

The car was already outside. Alek opened the door for him as he checked his phone. Beni, his IT guy, sent him the reports he's gathered for the day.

He flipped through the profiles of women as they drove through the night. All of them were raven-haired, has dark gray eyes, aged 25 to late 30's. Single women, married women, lesbian.

What if she changed her hair now?

Or what if she was wearing contact lenses that day?

What if he already found her profile, but missed it?

Worse, what if she's married? Or has a kid?

He exhaled a sigh of frustration, leaned his elbow on the door and pinched the sides of his nose.

Where are you?

Beside him, he could feel his brother smirking at him.

Without taking his eyes off his phone, he warned. "If you don't stop peeking, I'll gouge your eyes out with the same toothpick you're using."

Domenico tittered with amusement, but looked away anyway. Unlike everyone else, his brother still supported his foolish pursuits.

He was caught up with his task when Domenico reminded him,

"Mario's asking me if we're still going to Rome tomorrow... er in a few hours?"

Ah. Fuck.

He glanced at his clock, 3:12.

"Tell him we're leaving at 5. We'll be back here at 11."

"Va bene." Domenico simpered, chewing on his toothpick.

Massimo closed his eyes and her image intruded his darkness again. Her delicate steady hands. A pair of eyes that were the darkest of grays that resembled the storms at sea. And her radiant smile that was nudging something, waking something in him.

I'll find you.

I'll find you.

Whatever it takes.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Warsaw, Poland

The sandwich her assistant left for her was sitting idle, cold on her table. It reminded her that she hasn't eaten her lunch yet. Or her breakfast.

She's been working on her lateral and sales report she thought she could give to Marek today. If Oskar was correct (he usually is), she'd be getting that promotion today. Though, no one in this company comes close to her credentials, she felt that she should still secure it. She hadn't stopped since last night. Even when Martin came home at 1 in the morning.

Her nails tapped against the keyboard in unwavering determination. The classical piano music she's listening to was helping her concentration. She worked on her keyboard as if they were piano keys, an instrument close to her by heart.

She's only two words away when there's a knock on her door. From the corner of her eye, she saw her assistant peeked her red head behind the door.

"Miss Biel?"

"Yes?" She answered, without taking her eyes off her screen.

"There's someone here."

Oh, God. Please don't be Martin.

They had a little argument today. Again. This time, it was about the empty carton of milk he keeps putting back in the fridge. They had a little scream fest, thus the reason for her lost of appetite. She was finally seeing the pig Olga was describing. But still, she felt regretful when he stormed out of their apartment. In a day, they'll be travelling to Sicily and she wouldn't be caught dead going alone on her own birthday. Let alone, be alone in an airplane.

She frowned, "Who?"

Her assistant opened the door to reveal her long-time friend.

The second her eyes landed on the baggy sweatpants, she knew something was wrong.

"Bianka!" She pushed her chair and strode towards her. She pulled her into a tight hug and nodded to her assistant, who closed the door behind her.

If Olga's the craziest and loudest person, Bianka's always been the most timid, the prettiest. She's the heart of their little group, their valuable asset. Put Bianka in front of the group and they're sure, bouncers would let them in, people would part and give them way. Men, women craned their necks whenever she passes by. They never pay for their own drink in the bar— much to Olga's pleasure— whenever Bianka was with them. She lost count of the times Bianka saved their asses with her power of persuasion and flirting. She had the charming face and the body of a supermodel that everyone envies. Mile-long legs that look good in any dress, plump lips, a sun-kissed complexion, shiny brown hair that went past her waist.

But instead of the straight brown mane, was a disheveled nest for a hair. Bianka was a mess. Her clothes were baggy and wrinkled. It's a wonder how she got past security looking like that.

"What happened, B?"

Instead of answering, Bianka returned her hug and sobbed.

"There, there honey. Come, sit." With her still in her arms, she sat them on the nearby couch in her office. "Is it Russo, again?"

Like a plaguing curse to every beautiful woman, her friend decided to fall in love with yet another jerk. Though, this time it was an upgrade from the alcoholic she had before. This time, it was a user. They broke up not more than a month ago, but she tell could from the tousled appearance of her friend that she's not over it.

Bianka raised her head from her chest and shook her head. "No." She snuffled. "Well, not entirely."

"Oh honey. How many times do we have to tell you." She wiped her friend's tears and offered a handkerchief from her pants pocket. "He's not worth your tears. Nobody is. You're too beautiful for him anyway."

She continued, her tone half joking, half serious. "Can you imagine your children? I wouldn't forgive you if you ever had his children. I mean, poor little things Just, biedne małe rzeczy." She clicked her tongue.

Bianka let out a weak chuckle. "Yeah, we will have ugly children."

"See? Cheer up B."

Bianka sat up, grabbed her hankie, all the while keeping her head down.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there with you yesterday." she apologized, the guilt creeping up her stomach.

"I told you, it's okay. I know how your work is important to you." Her friend took a lighter tone and met her eyes. "So, did you kick Dexter's ass? Or whatever his name was?"

"Like you have to ask?" She chuckled and sat with a leg under her, her hand behind her bun. "You're now looking at the general manager of the Regent."

"Shut up! Shut up! Are you serious?" Bianka's face brightened with pride. She and Olga knew how long she has been waiting for that promotion.

"Well, not yet. The Senior asked me to go to his office later today to discuss yesterday and something." She replied, applying the quotation marks on the word "something".

"Well, I'm so proud of you. You deserve it." Bianka beamed at her.

And an idea hit her. She stood up and grabbed the handset from the phone on her marble coffee table.

"Sophia?" She called her assistant. "Won't you come over here, please?"

Within seconds, Sophia came at her door again. "Yes, Miss Biel?"

"Please book the same flight for Bianka Antos. She's going with me to Sicily tomorrow. Put it on my card. That's Bianka, with a K and Atnos as A-T-N-O-S. Check my book for her details.

Bianka's turquoise eyes widened. "No, Laura, no."

She smirked before adding, "Could you also go with Conrad to get my things in my apartment? Send it here. I'll talk to Oskar."

Sophia nodded, her hand still on the doorknob.

"That would be all Sophia, thank you."

And her assistant left.

"No, Laura. I can't let you—"

"It's already done. Sophia is very efficient. We're leaving 7 am tomorrow." She waved her cellphone, showing the confirmed flight. "See?"

"I can't, Laura. You can't"

"Yeah, I can." She insisted.

"I have—"

"Please. It's not like you can't bat your eyes at your boss, who, I think is the perfect match for you." She teased, before getting up to check on their reservation on her laptop.

Better cancel that queen-sized bed too.

"What about Martin?"

"We had a fight this morning. I don't think he's coming." She shrugged, unfazed.

"Why? What about?"

"Nothing. Something stupid." She replied with a resigned tone.

Bianka patted the empty space next to her, the spot she vacated not moments ago. "Tell me."

Bianka's always felt happy with her and Martin's relationship. She was their cheerleader. Unlike Olga, who was more vocal about her dislike and disapproval. When Martin proposed, Bianka cried as she congratulated her while Olga didn't talk to her for three days. Bianka's always been the one person she could go for a Martin-related advice. If there was someone she could vent out right now, Bianka was the right person.

"I'm not so sure if I should still marry him." She admitted, quite surprised by how steady she sounded.

"Why?"

"I… I don't know." She shrugged again. "Am I crazy? Or this was just cold feet?"

Bianka gaped at her, her smothered eyes, deep and pensive. "You don't love him anymore?"

She seemed startled by the question and answered in reflex.

"I do." And she repeated for good measure, as if it'll make it true. "I do."

Bianka cocked a groomed eyebrow at her.

Deep down, she knew. She had a feeling she had always known. Something about last night and this morning was the final straw. She sighed.

It was Bianka's turn to pull her in her arms. "Oh, honey."

"I'm okay. I'm okay." She appealed, hugging her friend back. "I just have to be sure."

They fell into a comfortable silence, until she heard Bianka mumbled,

"If you want my two cents, yeah, you should break up with him."

She gave a bittersweet laugh, pulled away and held Bianka's shoulders at arms length. "Who are you and what have you done to Bianka, the manager of Laura and Martin's fan club?"

Her friend looked relieved. "I'm happy if you're happy… Now." She clapped her hand on her knees and got up, enlivened of a sudden. "If I'm going with you to Italy tomorrow, I got some persuading to do. What was I thinking going here dressed up like this?"

She chuckled, "Glad to have you back."

"Do you have clothes here?"

Being the Sales Director, she's privileged enough to have her own office.

The wide window allowed her a view of the garden. Her office has its own powder room. A three-seater mid century blue couch and two white armchairs laid for her guests. Displayed on her walls were gold rimmed glass shelves lined with decor. At the center of the space, resting on the finely crafted carpet was her glass computer desk. It wasn't as big and luxurious like what Sawecki had. But it was enough for her. She was content with having her own space for a change.

She nodded. "Yeah. Check the cabinet in the bathroom."

"Please tell me that I won't find that same outfit in there." Bianka complained, pointing to her clothes with disgust.

She looked down herself. She was wearing a black pencil skirt, a matching black long sleeve and black pumps— her work clothes. "Why? What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Nobody died, Laura. Why are you always like somebody died?"

She laughed. "Go, get cleaned up. I also have some make-up there." She got up and fetch her phone again. "I'll call Olga, see if she wants to come too."

"Yeah, but you know what she's gonna say. You know how she is with Italy."

She stopped, her fingers hovering on the button.

She could still remember it as if it was yesterday. What's supposed to be a relaxing summer vacation became one of the most unforgettable moments of her life.

Some five years ago, Olga's cousin, Remri, invited them for the summer. Laura fell in love with the place. Everything about Sicily was a dream come true. From the landscapes, the culture, the ancient architecture, the people, the food. Everything was going well. Olga even met and hooked up with an Italian guy from Cefalú whom they met in one of the clubs.

One summer day, they drove down to Cefalú to see where the guy lived. They stopped by the marketplace because two of their colleagues wanted to check it out. Bianka and her boyfriend at the time went to find a restaurant while Olga and Italian guy stayed in the car. She didn't wanna be around with all the moaning and frolicking so she left them.

She was dawdling around, fascinated by the souvenir shops when Bianka called her. She told her to meet them at this Mediterranean restaurant they found. They're seated in the balcony overlooking the market and the sea when she heard it.

At first, she thought they were fireworks. She was about to joke that Italians have a weird sense of timing.

Who would light fireworks in the middle of the day?

But at the corner of her eye, she saw two bodies fall down. Then everybody was running in different directions, screaming, panicking.

One of the men in black grabbed the other fallen, an older gentleman and disappeared to the stairs.

It didn't take a moment for her instincts to kick in. She rushed to the body nearest her. A younger man— she could tell that he was Italian from his deep-set eyes, his stubble and bone structure.

No more than two years older than me, she remembered thinking.

He had a bullet lodged in his torso, right where his large intestine was. His body was going into a septic shock. And the guards around her were more concerned about who fired at them rather than the man lying on the balcony.

She remembered his brown eyes— so dark they looked almost black. She couldn't forget, how, even at the brink of death, they still look fearless, calm… exquisite. His eyes, his willingness to live motivated her to keep him awake, alive. They were the only thing that kept her from running away with the other terrified guests.

Olga and Italian guy were one of the victims of the stampede that occurred in the marketplace. Olga had been traumatized and swore she would never go back to Italy. They left as soon as they released Olga from the hospital hours later.

After that summer, she had never had a stronger MO to become a doctor.

But alas, life hit her like a bitch.

Sometimes she still wonders about the man and his dark chocolate eyes.

Did he live?

She hoped he did.

The creak of the door opening interrupted her reverie.

"Explain to me," Bianka announced, "Why do you insist on wearing black when you've got this in your closet?"

She turned around and sashayed towards her, fresh faced- far from the wreck she was earlier. Bianka was wearing her white off-shoulder peplum dress. It was the one dress Martin bought for compensation when he forgot to pick her up.

"Bright colors are not really my thing… If you want it, you can have it."

"No! After you have forced me to take that trip." Bianka whined as she checked herself in the mirror. "Stop being so nice for a change, Laura."

"Correction. I'm only kind to you. And Olga… sometimes… when she's not cranky."

"Did you call her yet?"

"No."

She got… distracted.

"What do you think she'll say?" She bit her nails. Olga could be pretty scary sometimes. "What if I told her there's gonna be free booze?"

"Ha!" Bianka scoffed, running her hand down her dress. "Even that won't make her come."

"But it's my birthday!" She pouted. "I want my best girls with me."

Bianka flopped down the couch where she was at. "For you my friend, I'll convince her."

"Thank you." She pursed her lips.

Bianka smiled and gave her a peck.

"Now, get out of here. I got some work to do."

Bianka got up from the couch and turned to the door, her ratty sweats in her hands. "I don't deserve you, Laura."

"Don't go sappy on me now. Get out." She grinned at Bianka blew her a kiss and left.

She went back to her desk and proceeded to finish her paper. When she was all done, she printed two copies of each and practiced her spiel.

With still thirty minutes to spare, she typed Sicily on the web and searched for activities she and Bianka could do. She cancelled the romantic getaways and listed her and Bianka's name in the Spa and the city tour. She was humming along the keys of Yiruma, astonished by the lack of guilt for Martin.

That must be a good thing.

Still have time to kill, she found herself googling "Cefalú Shootout 2015" again. But the results remain the same. As it had been for the past few years. The news only focused on the stampede that injured a hundred others. It mentioned nothing about the gunfire that happened in the restaurant. The Google pages ran out and still, nothing.

How weird.

How could they not report anything that big? It probably started the stampede in the first place.

There was a soft knock on the door again.

"Miss Biel?" Came a high, honeyed voice. She recognized the short, pixie-haired woman, her elfish face peering behind the door.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Marek is ready for you now." Marek's assistant informed.

Showtime.

"I'll be there in two."

She fetched her items and glanced at the mirror to check her hair and attire. "I don't dress for a funeral." She convinced herself, flattening the nonexistent crease on her skirt.

She made her way to the 32nd floor, her chin held high. She tried to keep the butterflies floating around her stomach.

This is it, Laura.

She held a conscious hand to her heart before knocking on the door. "Sir?"

Don't faint. Don't faint. Don't faint. No matter what he says, no matter what happens, don't faint.

"Come in." Said the deep voice from behind the room.

"Good afternoon Sir." She smiled, her brightest smile while clutching the folder behind her back. "You wanted to see me?"

"Ah yes, Miss Biel." The man stood up and extended his hand.

She grasped it.

His office was 10x bigger than hers. But you could expect that from the top senior position in the company. He has its own adjacent meeting room, a large lounge area, a comfortable bathroom and a 360 degree view of the city.

"Sit down, sit down." He pointed to the sturdy chairs in front of his table.

"Thank you."

"What do we have here?" He asked, eyeing the folder on her lap.

"Ah, these are the annual sales report for the past year. Thought you might want to see that." She slid him the file.

"Thank you. But I don't need to review this to see that the hotel is thriving, Miss Biel." He supplied and leaned back on his high chair. "All thanks to you. You're the best in this job."

"It's only because I have the best team, Mr. Marek."

"Hayden, please. Don't make me feel older than I am."

She tried ignoring the lewd glint in his eyes.

"Hayden."

"How many years have you been working for The Regent, Laura?"

"Four and a half years this coming August."

"And you started as a server, right?"

"Yes, si- uh, Hayden."

"Then you became our receptionist."

She smiled and nodded.

"I like your story, Laura. It tells me that hard work can get you anywhere… Is it true that you were a med student? Before you came here?"

"Yes. I, uh, I was on my Clerkship. But I had to quit."

"Yeah. I'm sorry about that." The prick didn't look sorry though. "If given the chance, do you still wanna go back? To studying medicine, I mean?"

She'd been thinking about it. But if she said yes to Marek, she might not get that promotion. "I still think about it to past the time but I fell in love with hotels. I can still help and serve people here, without the gory details."

Marek laughed. "Of course, of course."

He stood from his chair, and patted the file to his lips. "As you now know, we're in need of a general manager by the end of the week…" He half sat on the table, his beady eyes on her. "And I know for a fact, you're perfect for the job."

Yes.

She tried to control her voice. "I will do my best, Sir."

"Hayden."

"Hayden." She repeated with a forced smile.

"Good, good."

Okay, can she go now?

Marek, once again, stood and circled her in a way that reminded her of a predator.

She heard the alarming ringtones going off in her head.

Please don't do anything stupid. Please don't do anything stupid.

She willed her heart to slow down.

He stopped behind her and grasped her shoulders. She flinched, but remained seated. Even as he sniffed her hair.

She felt the bile rising from her throat.

"Yes, good, good. You will be good."

"Please, take your hands off me." She pleaded, keeping her voice firm and stable. Her hands, closed into tight fists on her lap, to keep it from shaking.

"You will do everything I say if you want still want that promotion."

His breath smelt like cigarettes.

She tried her best not to gag.

But then, he licked behind her ear and she cracked.

She stood up, his chin hitting her shoulder with a loud thwack!

Marek yelped in surprise and pain from biting his own tongue. "Mah tang!"

She turned on her heel and threw her quivering fist on his nose. It landed square on and Marek fell down on his ass.

Her fist was burning from the impact. Hot ball of tears wet her eyelids. Her entire body, being, shaking from the assault. "You can have your promotion, you fucking pervert."

"You bitch!" He cried, pinching his bleeding nose.

"Don't ever tough me again." She hissed and with great effort, she ran out. She ignored the sly looks from the people she passed by and went straight to her office.

Sophia caught up to her. "Miss Biel? Miss Biel? Are you alright?"

She's here already?

She wiped the tear running down her cheek. "You found everything okay at my apartment?"

"Yes... Um." Sophia pushed her round glasses on the bridge of her nose. "Your luggage is in the lobby. Shall I send them up?"

She shook her head. "No. But can you book me my usual room downstairs? I'll stay here for the night."

"Of course." Her assistant gave her a wry smile.

"Dziękuję Ci, Sophie."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sound of the rotors touching down roused him from his dreamless sleep.

He sat up from the nook and took his seat. The stewardess proceeded to arrange the pillows and blanket he slept on. Mario has already been awake on the opposite gangway. The old man nudged a snoozing Domenico beside him who jumped out of his chair. His hand going to his holster.

Glad to know, paranoia runs in the family.

Business in Rome has always been a pleasure. The one-hour flight was almost worth it. But right now, he's looking forward to the day off. After the drama with Anna, he wanted to be alone. He craved it, like a kid with a candy. He felt like he deserves a moment of solitude. Away from the drugs, the prostitution rings, the guns, the people, and Mario. Especially Mario.

May be I'll take out the Titan this afternoon.

Of all the things he owned, his yacht has to be his favorite. It was his cheapest yet most treasured escape. Only a few selected people have the prerogative to join him there. He's determined to keep it that way. Mario hated it. Then again, the old man have always hated and avoided everything with the word "Fun" on it.

The pressurized cabin door opened. Mario rose from his seat first before a yawning Domenico followed him out the aircraft. He stretched his legs before he, too, was up on his feet.

"Hope you had a wonderful flight, Signore." Flirted the stewardess before flashing him a toothy grin. She was pretty and looked too rangy for a stewardess. Domenico must have picked her out the litter himself.

He ignored her and stepped out the threshold. The sun was blooming on the horizon, warming the sky in an orange bluish blanket. He inhaled the fresh and sweet Sicilian breeze, relishing it.

Home again.

He closed his jacket and donned his aviators. The sun may be pretty today, but that doesn't mean he stopped hating it.

"Massimo," Mario started as soon as he entered the car. "Montisanno wanted to meet with you regarding the new armory shipments."

"It's already here?" He asked, surprised.

"Yes. It arrived only an hour ago. They want to know if you wanna take a look."

Fuck. So much for the day off.

He gave him curt nod. "We'll go straight there." He ordered the driver who pulled up at the arrival area where a sea of people are waiting in queue for their taxi.

"Why are we going this way?" He asked, irritated.

The driver looked nervous and stammered a reply. Domenico stepped in for him. He shifted from the front passenger seat to explain. "They closed the private road for some maintenance."

"Out of all the days, they chose today." He grumbled.

"Infatti, no?" His brother muttered back, chomping down his gum.

"Where's your toothpick?" He joked, his voice flat.

He knew that Domenico was trying (and failing) to quit smoking. His "alternatives", including toothpicks and gum, were only making it worse for him.

He told him that if he wanted to smoke, then he should. They're all gonna die anyway, some way. And with their lifestyle, it's a guarantee.

Domenico turned to him again, his eyebrows wiggling. He bragged, "The stewardess has it."

His lips quirked into a smirk.

The driver slowed as a couple wheeled their push carts over the trolley lanes. A traffic marshall recognized their car and immediately stopped the other vehicles. The man was pointing for the other cars to move aside and make way. The man was wearing a very distracting tattered, neon vest. It was hurting his eyes.

He was staring forward, making a mental note to mention this detail to the governor, when a reflection caught his attention.

Everything moved, as if in slow motion.

But, not slow enough.

A black haired woman was arranging her hair in a messy bun. All the while, she was staring at his window. Her eyes, ever so gray and penetrating.

He felt his pathetic excuse for a heart, stopped.

The hair on his arms prickled.

He bolted from his seat and removed his sunglasses.

He spun on his torso, as they passed by her, unwilling to take his eyes off her, in case he was dreaming.

He couldn't speak.

He couldn't think.

"Che cos'è, Massimo?" Mario demanded, alert. "What is it?"

The woman was still staring at the car, as if she could see him through the back tint. Another woman approached her, smiling and pointed to the cab driving to them. The raven-haired woman broke eye contact and smiled at her friend. They loaded their luggages when their cab stopped in front of them.

"Stop the car." His voice between a rasp and a whisper.

"What?"

"I SAID STOP THE CAR!" He bellowed, his voice shaking the interior of the SUV.

The tires screeched to a halt at the side of the road. The impact forced Domenico and Mario forward in their seats.

He threw the car door and sprung from his seat. He ran towards the trunk and watched as she entered the cab. Her smile, not leaving her face.

He heard Mario and Domenico got out the car.

"What happened?" His brother questioned, his head swirling back and forth to his face and the taxi zone.

"It's her."

"What?!" Domenico walked to him, his eyes not leaving him.

While his, were not leaving her ride.

"Where?! Are you sure?"

His entire body was shaking.

He was sure.

This time, he was fucking sure.

The taxi was still stuck in the traffic behind them. He couldn't take his eyes off it. The windows weren't tinted. She was in the back passenger seat, he saw her removing her cardigan. She was laughing at her friend.

It's her.

It's her!

"Domenico, tell the second car to pick you up here."

"Massimo, be rational. We have-" Mario began.

"I don't care! I'm not letting her out of my sight." He was pulsing.

"Who?!" The old man looked mad.

He couldn't waste time.

The traffic was starting to move.

"Get out the car." With hasty footsteps, he walked backwards to the SUV. "Get out, I'm driving!"

The driver stepped down and away from the car.

"Look, let's be calm down for a minute here." Domenico amended and pulled his phone. "I'll ask Alek and the other guys to follow. I'm calling them right now."

No. It has to be him.

He memorized how the cab looked like. A white Ford Galaxy. The company's name branded on the passengers' and rear doors.

"Massimo?"

She's here.

She wasn't a dream.

After all these years.

Five fucking years.

She's real.

"Massimo!" Domenico called again. "Did you get a look at the plates?"

"BB 03813. The Airport Taxi company." he responded in a minute.

Domenico repeated it to the phone. "Okay, okay. Good." He hung up the phone. "It's one of Stefan's."

Cars zoomed past them. Nobody dared to horn; Everybody seemed to recognize the seal on the side doors.

"Good. Tell the second car to pick you up."

"But-" Mario interrupted again.

"Get out of my way or I'll run you over." He snarled, stepping on the driver's stool. His eyes anywhere but the nasty, senile man.

"You're gonna leave us here in the gutter?" Mario complained.

For a minute, he let his eyes wander to his brother. "Domenico…"

His brother nodded at him in understanding. "Alek has your back. The second car is on its way here. I'll make up for your absence."

"Fanculo!" Mario threw his hands up in exasperation.

He was never more thankful for Domenico than that moment.

The taxi took the east 92nd exit, he changed the gear to Drive.

He rolled the windows as Domenico hollered, "I'll patch the taxi's GPS on yours. Vai a prenderla, brother." Go get her.

He smirked at Nico before flooring on the gas.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

I made Laura (indirectly) curious about Massimo too, that way they're both weird together. LOL. I would like to believe that Domenico and Massimo have a great relationship. 'Cause I know Massimo won't have someone he doesn't trust to watch Laura. ALSO, I had different versions of the ending. At first, I don't want Massimo to come after her, but, after five years of pinning? It wouldn't make sense to me if he ordered somebody to do it for him. Tell me if you like it.

Still interested? 😬 My original plan was three chapters only, but if guys want maybe (?) I could do more and cover the entire movie. ?

PLEASE CHECK OUT THE AO3 site and Fanfic I added in the title. I’ll be uploading future chapters there. It’s so hard here on Tumblr. 

#365 dni #365 days #365 days fanfic #365 dni fanfic #Laura x Massimo #Massimo and Laura #massimo torricelli #laura biel #michele morrone #anna maria sieklucka #Blanka Lipinska #archive of our own #fanfiction

[msilwrites]

The Beginning of a Marriage

A/N: SEXUAL TENSIOOONNNSSS... LOL!

JUST A SHORT THOUGHT:

WARNING! SPOILERS from the book and movie 365 Days: I just finished reading a detailed review of the book. The difference between the Massimo in the book vs Massimo in the movie was so great, I felt so sad reading the detailed review about the book and the characters. (DETAILED REVIEW Read here....). Nonetheless, this story was inspired quite a bit by the Massimo from the movie. The review of the book and the difference it has with the movie not only made me want to write about strong female leads, but also, develop some sort of bond between my two characters as; (another spoiler from the book review; “Laura and Massimo as a couple - Those two didn't really share any interests, they didn't talk a lot about anything aside from how perversed they are & their sexual fantasies. Their whole relationship was built on violence, blackmail, anger and fighting.”)

And I believe the reviewer did make a point!

This story is the continuation of ‘The Wedding’

Genre: Action/ Drama / Comedy

Sandro Balestreri - Michele Morrone

Tilly McLeod - is an original female character

Will McLeod - Liam Neeson

Henry McLeod - Henry Cavill

                                     The Beginning of a Marriage

The moment they reached the Balistreri’s ancestral home where the wedding reception will be held. Tilly immediately got out of the car, and ran all the way to the front door of the villa. 

“What’s the hurry bella?!” Sandro teased. 

He expected Tilly to trip and fall and embarrass herself, with the way she was going, but to his surprise, she was very graceful, despite the high heels and the long gown. The long part of the back hem of her dress, flew with the wind, which made him stare longer than he intended, she looked so ethereal, reminding him of the goddess of the wind. 

“Quickly, Sandro! they’ll be here in an hour or two?” Tilly says whilst running up the on the steps of the entrance, completely oblivious to the way her husband stared at her.

He sighed, and turned off the car’s ignition, and pulled out the keys. By the time he entered the villa, he can hear the clucking sound of Tilly’s heels from upstairs like a staccato on a piano. 

He chuckled as he climbed the staircase and was a little surprised that the sound of the tick-tocking of her shoes suddenly stopped. When he reached the second floor, he saw her door, slightly ajar, enough for him to peek through. Out of sheer curiosity, Sandro took a peek at the small slit of the door only to find his wife busy talking on her phone,dressed in nothing but a nude strapless bridal shapewear, whilst her wedding gown, lay neatly on the side sofa. Though it didn’t show the parts that he wanted to see, it accentuated her hourglass body. Who would’ve thought his wife hid such a voluptuous figure. 

“Damn...” he whispered to himself, a naughty smile formed on his lips. “Who would’ve thought...”

“You’ll be late for an hour later than the designated time? Oh! of course, there’s no problem with that, we have more time to prepare for my side then. Take your time, we do not mind...” she says to the person on the other side of the line. He guessed it must be the magazine interview later on. After putting down the call, she sighs, and lays her head on top of the dressing table, completely exhausted. 

 With another exhausted sigh, Tilly gets up from her seat and changes into different dress, swiftly slipping into it. It had the same elegant silhouette as her wedding dress, but this time, it was black and a bit more minimalistic, with longer bell sleeves complementing the classic silhouette in the most delightful way. She paired with another set of emerald necklace, but took a little longer choosing the earrings, so she spread what she had brought on to the table to compare. Unable to choose, she leaves the previous task to re-touch her makeup.

Sandro didn’t notice that he had been watching a little longer until she lifted her head, to check the time. Though, there was nothing much to see now that she’s dressed, he felt like a voyeur. He didn’t understand it himself  as to why he seemed to be enjoying watching Tilly dress up, there was something so sultry about it. In fact, he was getting a little hard down there.This was the first time he considered something so sexy without a woman being naked. 

Suddenly, Sandro accidentally pushes the door open, causing Tilly to almost jump out of her seat.

“Who’s there!!??” she shouts.

However, Sandro quickly slips away, and hides at one side.

Tilly pops her head outside of her door, and looked from right to left, trying to see if there was anybody in the hallway. Much to her relief, there appeared to be no one. She closes the door shut, and Sandro hears the clicking sound of the doorknob, indicating that she had locked it this time. 

Sandro sighs in frustration, and tried to find a way to ‘cool’ himself and his ‘friend’ down there. His eyes lands on the large window not far from where he stood, and the first thing he saw was the pool.

“Good Idea...” he thought to himself. It was indeed the perfect time to go for a relaxing swim.

                                                          ********** 

“Sandro!” Tilly’s deep, mezzo-soprano voice echoed throughout the hallway, reaching all the way to the backyard where the pool was. One of the first things he had noticed about Tilly in the beginning was her voice. Despite the sunny disposition and the small height, he didn’t expect her to have a such deep soothing voice that reminded him of those narrators in documentaries. When happy, it will be a little tone higher. When annoyed, he could hear her voice strain, turning a little raspy, as if she was containing something within herself. It made him little curious how would she sound like if angry.

Sandro swim’s to the side of the pool and sits down, he could already hear the tick-tocking of her heels approaching.

“Yes, bella?” he greets turning his head to her direction. There she was looking so regal in her black off-shoulder gown, walking towards him.

For a moment, she stops to take a good look at him. He was wearing nothing but those swimming shorts. She couldn’t help but agree that Sandro was no doubt a very handsome man, with a well-toned muscular body. 

“See something you like, bella?” he teased, seeing the expression of admiration in her face. 

Tilly smiles, clears her throat, and crosses her arms. “In fact yes... you’re a really handsome man, Sandro!” she says shamelessly, catching him off-guard. Often, a woman would either ‘neg’ him, tease him, call him arrogant, outright deny it, play coy, or play games when in such situations. But it completely surprised him that Tilly owned up to it. 

“Wow... Thank you...” he chuckled, not really knowing how to respond to her honesty. 

Tilly nonchalantly sits at the lounge chair behind him and asks. “What made you want to swim at this time?”

“I don’t know?” he said, as he looked up at sky. “ I just found it a little too warm for my liking, I guess...” he says, when she was the very reason.

“I see, well, I’ve come to tell you that I have your new suit ready. I placed it on top of your bed, just wear it when the people from the magazine arrives.” she instructs, before walking off.

“Where are you going?” he asked, watching her walk back to the door. 

“I’m gonna take a nap, I’d appreciate it if you’d wake me half-an-hour later!” she says, before closing the door behind her.

                                                          **********

Sandro smiled, trying to contain his laughter, as he approached a sleeping Tilly, laying in the couch. He didn’t understand the weird, hammerhead shark looking ‘headdress’ she was wearing. He did see it in a magazine before and thought it was ridiculous.

“Well, an odd wife indeed...” he tells himself. “So she does have her inelegant moments...” he adds, realizing that he always saw her composed and dignified. 

“Wake up, bella... they’re here...” he said, slightly shaking her. To his surprise, Tilly gets up, in a bit of a panic.

“I can’t see! what’s happening!!??” she said, her hands flailing in slight panic. 

Sandro bit his lips to stop himself from laughing and pulled the unsightly thing off her head. 

“Oh!” she lets out, laughs a bit, which caught him off-guard, he surely did not expect Tilly to laugh at herself. “I forgot I was wearing that...” she said, a little embarrassed.

“What the hell is this?” he says, examining the weird looking object. 

“An ostrich-pillow... I’d get you one if you want?” she offered. 

“No, Thank you...” he said, placing it on the side. The thing looked far from an ostrich. 

                                                          ********** 

“Hi! how are you doing?!” Tilly greets the interviewer cordially, giving her a hug and the customary kiss on each cheek.

“I am fine, oh by the way, you look stunning!” the journalist compliments and looks at Tilly from head to toe with admiration.  “Congratulations and Best Wishes to both you and your husband!” she adds.

“Thank You!” was her response.

Sandro watched from the side as Tilly greets the staff from the magazine one by one. It wasn’t so long ago that she looked unpoised, wearing the hammerhead pillow of hers. Now she was back to graceful and sophisticated Tilly. 

“Sandro?” Tilly called and then turned back to the journalist. “ Come and meet my husband, Sandro...” she says. “Sandro this is my friend and reporter Lauren Wescott, Lauren, this is my husband, Alessandro Balestreri...” 

“Nice to meet you Mr Balestreri, congratulations on your wedding, and winning the Forbes Travel Guide and Haute Grandeur awards.” Lauren mentions, referring to Sandro’s actual job. 

Though Sandro’s family is still a mafia, they had long since been trying legalize, and have been continuing to do so. In the surface, everyone knew Sandro as the outstanding and award winning restaurateur and hotelier, and the COO (Chief Operations Officer) of the Balestreri Group. Only those who are loyal to the oath of Omerta knows what Sandro is and his family, including Tilly’s family. Though Sandro and Tilly’s family have long been trying to legalize their businesses, it never meant that they still don’t get their hands dirty. Especially when things take a different turn. Sometimes, things are just done the hard way.

“I heard that you and your hotels were nominated for the Stelliers awards? I wish you luck...” Lauren adds, talking about another hotel awards. 

“Ah, yes, Thank You... I do hope to win something this year...” he adds. “Please take a seat...” he offers as he sat beside Tilly. “Shall we begin?”

“Of course!” she says enthusiastically. Lauren takes out a pen notepad, ready to jot down notes. “So how did you two meet?”

“Oh, through my parents, and then his aunt...” was Tilly’s simple answer. “His aunt was trying to matchmake me with him, and so here we are...” she added. 

“Matchmaking?! that’s a good way to meet each other, specially now that it’s full of social dating apps...” Lauren comments and sighs. 

“The first time you met, what were the things that caught your attention about your significant other?” Lauren reads from her notes.

“ I always saw Sandro as a man with quiet confidence about him. I would say the most memorable part of the first meeting would be his eyes. When I turned to look at him, he was looking at me with the citrine eyes of his... and I was not able to speak, so I drank tea to cover it up.” Tilly turns to face Sandro who had one brow arched, and a mischievous smile plastered on his lips. She knew that what she said will be used against her anytime soon.

Sandro’s turn came, and looked at Tilly. “ The first thing I noticed and captured my attention was her voice. Well, she might not know this, but the first time I met her was during the Wimbledon...”

“Oh!” Tilly looks at him surprised, and tries to see if he was making this up, or she had really seen him in person before?

“Really? we would love to hear that story?!” Lauren says, interested at the story that Sandro was about to tell.

“ It was during the men’s doubles a few years back. There was this lady and her brother, who was seated beside me and It turns out to be her.” he begins, Lauren was genuinely interested, whilst Tilly felt nervous, and tried to recall if she had committed any blunder that day. 

“It was when Marach was hit in the worst possible spot, and then I overhear this woman beside me telling her brother, ‘ Headlines tomorrow, ‘Marach gets a whack!’ Well, he doesn’t have to worry about contraception now!’ ” Sandro says, saying it in typical Tilly fashion, spot on with her scottish accent.

Lauren throws her head back laughing, remembering that particular incident during one of the Wimbledon’s match. “ Yes! that is so Tilly!”  confirming Sandro’s story on how Tilly usually is.

Tilly laughed along too, in relief.  But she did remember the guy beside her laughing at her dry comment, dress in a light blue summer suit, wearing shades. But then that was all to it. She just didn’t  expect that her future husband had been sitting right next to her then.

By the way, if you want to read the previous story, here it is,  ‘The Wedding’

The Next Part of this story is here; ‘Marriage’

A/N:  I will be editing this because I probably have made a number of grammatical errors. I hope you enjoyed the story. FYI. It will be a series of one shots.

#Mafia #Omerta #IronLady #Iron Lady #Independent Woman #Michele Morrone #Michele Morrone Face Claim #Michele Morrone Fan Fiction #Michele Morrone FanFiction #Michele Morrone X OFC #Michelle Morrone x OC #Michele Morrone x Original Female Character #Original Story #Massimo Torricelli #Massimo Torricelli Face Claim #Massimo Toricelli Inspired #Drama #Action #Comedy

[buckyownsmylife]

Hey, would you write a headcanon about Massimo? cause ive been thinking about him a lot these days and i just feel like he's the biggest drama queen when it comes to his girl, you know? lk, if you were a college student, he whines every time u need to study and can't give him the attention he feels like he deserves!

Yes! I most definitely do! And I feel like you’re absolutely right! I mean, that’s pretty much canon, with how he behaves around Laura in 365 dni, right? 😂

Mind if I make this a bit NSFW? 😜

Cockwarming Massimo all the freaking time.

I mean it.

That would be the only way that man would let you do anything that took your attention off of him.

And that was only so far as his phone was enough to keep him busy!

Because the second the calls stopped? Girl, you know he’d be thrusting up into you, tearing your focus away from your homework or whatever.

It got to a point where even when he was the one who was working, he needed to be inside of you.

He swore it helped with his concentration.

But he’d have you wrapped around his cock while taking calls, in traffic...

Until he didn’t even mind doing it during in-person meetings.

He has you wearing slightly longer dresses than the usual short ones he liked to see you sport

Just so he could be balls deep inside of you while talking to his trusted men

And his enemies too

Just so they’d know you belonged to him and only him

“I can’t live without you, baby girl,” he’d whisper in your ear every time you whined because he was pushing your panties away and filling you up in a public place.

“And I know this pretty little pussy can’t live without my cock either”

Ugh, this is the dream.

#massimo torricelli #my headcanons #massimo torricelli smut #smut #massimo torricelli headcanon #massimo torricelli headcanons #massimo torricelli reader #massimo torricelli fanfiction #massimo torricelli ff #massimo torricelli writing

[mrsavery]

OUR MIRACLE

Massimo Torricelli x Reader 

Warnings: None

Summary: You give Massimo the most precious Christmas gift that he always has wished but never got.

Word count: 1808

It had been exactly five years since your first Christmas together. Five years filled with love and happiness. The Christmas lights were dancing on the Christmas three, and soft music was playing in the background, as you walked through the empty house with a gift in your hands. It was for Massimo who, at this moment, was away for business but should be home in a few hours.

As you sat is down under the three and looked around the room, you could not stop smiling, knowing that one day things were going to change. You left the room and went to the kitchen, humming ‘All I want for Christmas is you’ under your nose. Since your husband was gone, the house felt empty and foreign, and you were counting hours until his return. The clock on the wall showed that it was only four in the evening, meaning that Massimo would not be home for another three to four hours.

You knew all about his lifestyle, about his work and family. It scared you at first, because you were afraid of his life not yours, knowing that every day could be his last. Never ever in the five years of being together you had been in danger, had been kidnapped or touched by others. Massimo had been doing everything to keep you safe, and he is keeping his promise.

You walked back to the living room and sat on the couch with a cacao mug in your hands. You will wait for your husband here and, while waiting, read a book that you have not been able to finish in a long time. It is a novel that Massimo gave you on your twenty-fifth birthday a few months ago. Your husband knows how much you love reading, and because of that most of his present are books.

One hour passes, then the other and soon you have finished reading the book. You put it in the bookshelf and return to your place on the couch. When ‘Last Christmas’ starts playing in the background, you close your eyes and let your mind take you back to your first Christmas together.

Massimo’s warm hands wrapped themselves around your waist, as he sat behind you on the floor. He put his head on your shoulder and inhaled your scent, like he always did. It helped him to calm down.

“Is everything alright?” You asked him.

“Si.” Massimo replied and afterwards kissed your cheek. “How was your day, farfalla?”

“I talked to my brother a few minutes ago.” You said and looked at the fireplace in front of you. The fire was dancing, and you felt Massimo shifter against you. “He said that my parents still cannot forgive me for leaving.”

Seven months ago, you left home, ran away from your arranged marriage and things that you knew. You were born and raised in a small town in west England where everyone knew everyone. There were two farms in your town, where most of the people worked. One was owned by your father, and the other was owned by the Carter family. They wanted to unite both farms, and the only way how to do it was by marriage. As the Carter family only had a son your age, and you were the first-born daughter in your family, you both were supposed to marry. Jonathan Carter was beautiful, but you did not like him.

You tried everything to get break the arrangement, even gave your place to your sister who wanted to marry Jonathan, but it did not give any results. Jonathan only wanted to marry you, claiming that you were the most beautiful girl in the town. Your brother, seeing tears in your eyes two days before the wedding, helped you to leave. You flew all the way down to Italy and started a new life there.

You missed your family very much, but the life was better for you here. If you tried to return… You did not know how it would end and did not want to find out. You had a new life here, a man who loved you and who took care of you. Massimo was giving you the world, but the pain in your heart did not leave easily.

You felt Massimo’s thumbs on your cheeks wiping away the tears that had fallen. “Everything is going to be alright.” You whispered and turned around to face your boyfriend. You got into his lap, wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed his lips softly. You looked into his dark eyes and whispered words that both never have told loud. “I love you.”

Massimo just smiled and kissed you back, this time with more passio. “I love you too, farfalla.”

You opened your eyes when your phone made a quiet sound. You took it in your hands and smiled because it was a message from your brother. He had sent a family picture of him, his wife, and their three years old daughter. You decided to call him in return, and your brother answered almost immediately.

“Hi, Merry Christmas!” You said with a smile.

“Merry Christmas to you too! Did you see the picture?” He asked. You could hear your niece’s laughter in the background.

“Yes, you all look amazing, when Massimo comes, I will show him it too.”

“Where is he?”

“Some unexpected things came up, and he was forced to go to the work. He should be back soon.” Your brother thought that Massimo owned a company and was CEO there. It was a partly true, since he owns a few companies around the world, but he mostly uses it as a cover, because truly he is a Don to the biggest mafia in Europe, but your brother did not need to know that.

“I will hope that Massimo comes home fast. I do not want you to spend the Christmas alone.” He said, and you heard pain in his voice. You have not seen him since your wedding that was four years ago, and both of you wanted to spent time together with your families, but never really had a chance.

“I will not.” You said and put a hand on your stomach. “Alice is growing up fast.”

“Yes, she is. It is like only yesterday she was born… I have been thinking about you and Massimo. You both are happy, but a little child would make things even better. You are already twenty-five, and he is, let me count… thirty-five.”

“We will think about it.”

“I have to go, [Y/N]. Mother is calling. Talk to you soon, alright? And give Massimo my greetings.” You were not able to reply, because your brother ended the call. You as well put your phone away and smiled when you looked outside the window and saw your husband’s car approaching. Massimo was finally home!

You stood up and made sure that room looks perfect, before walking to the front door. Before you could open them, Massimo beat you to it and smiled seeing you. “Hi, farfalla.”

“Hi, Massimo.” You let him take of his jacked and shoes before you ran into his embrace and kissed him with force. You had missed your husband all day, and you could not wait for him to open his present, because it was a tradition for you and Massimo to open presents on Christmas Eve instead of the next morning. “How did the meeting go?”

“I would have been happier to stay home with my wife instead of listening to them.” You chuckled at his answer.

“Nobody is perfect.”

“Only you.” Massimo said kissing your bare neck. “Can we skip presents and go up?’

You turned around and put hands on his chest. He was much taller than you, but the height difference had never been an issue for you. “After you open your present.”

He groaned. “Why does my present is so important? In my opinion, sex with my wife is more important than presents, because you are the biggest present that I have got.”

“Because after you open it, we will be able to go and celebrate.”

Massimo raised his eyebrow to you. “A celebration?”

You nodded and got out of his embrace. You walked to the tree and got out a little blue box that you had placed there earlier. “This is for you.” You said giving it to your husband. You sat down next to him on the sofa, as he slowly opened the present. Massimo undid the white bow tie, then unwrapped the blue wrapping paper, never leaving your eyes.

You smiled at Massimo when he opened the small carbon box in his hands and froze. He took out the white stick that was showing two pink lines and then looked at you. Massimo was too shocked to talk, and his tears were evidence of that.

It was a miracle that you were pregnant. Ten years ago, when Massimo was shot and his father was killed, he got the news that changed his life. He had survived an attempted murder but lost his chance to become a father. The chances of him becoming father were almost non-existent. Over the years he had reconciled that he will not have children, and once Massimo told you that you were free to leave him because of that.

You stayed, knowing that without him, you were nothing. Massimo came into your life as a savior, to save you from the darkness, but in the end, you saved him too. Doctors had said that chances were very low, even with artificial insemination, but you both managed to beat it all and become pregnant without trying.

When you saw these pink lines appear in the morning, you could not stop crying. It was a real miracle that you will always be thankful for. You and Massimo had talked about adoption, but it always ended with a fight and a make-up sex later. As much as you were ready to be a parent, you were not sure that you would be able to love a baby that was not genetically yours. There would always be fear that his or her real parents would show up and take him or her away from you. It would break you, so you both decided that it was not an option.

Massimo took his eyes off the pregnancy test and looked into your eyes that were full of tears too. “I’m pregnant, Massimo. We are going to have a baby!” It took him about three seconds to throw the stick on the glass coffee table and take you in his arms. You were wrapped in his large embrace and your husband’s wet cheek was pressed against yours.

“We are going to have a baby.” He whispered and put one of his hands on your flat belly. “A baby.”

You put your hand over his large one and said. “Our baby.”

farfalla- butterfly

#365 days #365 dni #massimo torricelli #michele morrone #massimo torricelli x reader #365 days imagine #365 days fanfiction #365 days fic

[msilwrites]

Marriage

A/N: There’s a pile of work in my desk... having a bit of writer’s block too. Maybe give me a bit of ideas? hehehe I mean... what do you wanna see? message me in the comments or directly. I’d love to hear from you! 

I forgot to mention earlier, a part of the female lead’s character has based on ‘Fleabag’ (the dry-wit part only...)

This story is the continuation of ‘The Beginning of A Marriage’

Genre: Action/ Drama / Comedy

Sandro Balestreri - Michele Morrone

Tilly McLeod - is an original female character

Will McLeod - Liam Neeson

Henry McLeod - Henry Cavill

                                                       Marriage

After what seemed to be an eternity, to Sandro’s relief, the interview was finally over. He watched as Tilly and the journalist, Lauren converse. The latter was giving the former a peek on the article that will be published.

“Sandro? do you wanna see?” Tilly called, holding the draft article. 

“What for?” Sandro asked. Every time he was interviewed, never did have a look at drafts articles like Tilly does. It appears that she did have some sort of power for her to have such privilege

“It’s alright... I am sure whatever is written will be good,” was his quick reply. He was not interested in whatever was written in it. He was sure Tilly would have already asked the publication to modify anything that doesn’t sound right.

                                                         **********

“It is my great honour and happy privilege to introduce to you, Mr and Mrs Alessandro and Mathilda Balestreri! Let us raise our glasses and offer them the warmest welcome!” TIlly’s brother, Henry announced from outside the courtyard of the villa where the reception is ongoing.

Much to Tilly’s surprise, Sandro’s arm snaked around her waist, and pulled her closer to him, as they got out of the double doors. The guests cheered loudly and raised the glasses as they entered the opulent courtyard.

When they reached their table, Sandro, trying to be a gentleman, pulls the chair for Tilly to sit on.

“Thank you, Sandro” was her quick response, before she sits down in relief. It had been a long day, and she was hungry. She stifled a yawn and stopped herself from gobbling all of the food that was slowly placed in front of her by the servers. She knew the food will be good because she was the one who tasted them and chose it all by herself.

“Buon Appetito, Everyone!” Henry announces, before going back to his respective table.

Tilly secretly thank the gods, as she picked up the aperitif and drank it. It’s sweet taste, turning acidic as it went down her throat, an obvious indication of hunger. When she finished the aperitif, she tried to reach of the antipasto at the centre of the table, but stopped when Sandro placed a few finger foods on her plate.

“You must be really hungry to drink your apertivo at one go... eat... you’ve worked hard...” he said, referring to her organizing the engagement and wedding almost single handedly. Besides, his brother-in-law had warned him earlier never to let Tilly go hungry. Henry claimed that ‘A hungry Tilly is not a nice Tilly’.

She smiled at him and uttered a word of thank you, before munching the food the her husband placed on her plate.

When the main course came, much to Sandro’s surprise, it was a familiar dish from childhood that his Nonna cooked for him. He looked at his wife and wondered how did she ever get hold of a recipe that only belonged to the family.

“Is there a problem?” She asked, stopping half-way her meal, upon seeing her husband look at her.

“How did you--” before he can finish, she quickly interjected.

“Oh, I asked your Nonna about this” she said, pertaining to his grandmother who sat with his Tio and Tia, enjoying her meal. 

“But why?” he asked, still confused. 

“Why what?” was her reply.

“Why would you do that?” 

“Oh... well, I was hoping that you’ll have something to be happy about at the end of the day...”

“ But I am happy...” he said, it felt weird that despite this being an arranged marriage, he felt happy.

“Oh, then good!” Tilly smiled, before slicing her fish.

“ Tilda? why are you doing this?” he asked once more, using a name that her parents call her when they have something serious to tell her. But to her surprise, it sounded different when Sandro calls her ‘Tilda’. It had some sort of affection there that she couldn’t point out.

“ Do what? you mean eat? because I’m hungry, Sandro!” was her quick reply, before putting a piece of the fish in her mouth.

Sandro chuckled, but didn’t let dry-wit of hers distract him. “I mean why would you do this?” he said, pointing at every detail, and the fish dish he loved so much as a child. 

“Oh, that’s because I am your wife... you may not love me, but we are a family now, and It may be an arranged union but it never meant that we shouldn’t be considerate or be hostile or that we couldn’t be nice to each other, or have harmony, Am I right?” was her answer. “Besides, it’s a small thing”. she added.

Sandro smiled, and nodded. Satisfied with his wife’s answer. Though she wasn’t 'tempting’ enough for him, nor could he really imagine himself in bed with her and get physically intimate, it never meant that they couldn’t be civil and cordial towards each other. After all, marriage is not purely based on lust or physical attraction for it to work.

The time came for their first dance, Tilly looked at him “You know, you don’t have to do this?” she mentions, as she held up her hand, signalling her brother Henry from afar to hold the announcement of the bride and groom’s first dance.

“Tilda, it’s not a problem, come...” he says, holding his hand out for her to take. 

She looks at him and tried to peruse the expression on his face. He seemed sincere and not wanting to embarrass him, she finally takes his hand and allows him to lead her to the dance floor.

The piano began playing the introduction of the song sweetly with light notes, and then the orchestra followed after, with cellos giving depth to the melody.

‘We’ve only just begun....’

Sandro arched a brow, hearing the familiar tune. “This is an old song?!” he states, as he took Tilly into his arms and swayed her into a waltz. 

“Yes it is...” was her simple answer.

“Why did you choose this?” he was curious. After all he knew the meaning of the song.

“Well... I thought it was appropriate...” was her quick reply. She knew he’d be asking him that.

“Why so?”

“Well, I don’t think I or you can imagine dancing to cheesy love song, or just a simple love song. So I picked something neutral and classy?” it was a reasonable response that he actually smiled in agreement. After all, they literally ‘just begun’. 

Feeling a little bit mischievous, without telling Tilly, Sandro suddenly pulled her a little bit closer and without warning lifts, her a few inches off the ground and, spun her around the dancefloor. Her eyes narrowed at him, and he even caught her rolling her eyes. Afterwards, he abruptly puts her down, expecting her to lose her balance, and that he would have to catch her. However, much to his surprise, Tilly gracefully lands and spins, the long hem of her trumpet dress swirled elegantly with her. She looked elegant and lovely, and Sandro was fascinated, not only that, it also caught the attention of the guest, which made them cheer and applause. 

(This GIF doesn’t do it justice, but she did twirl)

Sandro smiles and gently pulls her back into his arms, the rest of the guest, finally joining the open dance floor and crowding it.

 “I didn’t know that you were such a great dancer?!” he comments.

“ No, I don’t know how to really dance... I don’t dance much...” she said honestly. In fact, she only recently learned how to waltz and its proper footwork. 

“Really now... then what was that just now?”

“That’s called ‘self-preservation’...” she said dryly, and he laughed. She did her best to save herself from hitting her husband’s face with her forehead or falling down flat on her face on the dance floor, embarrassing herself. And she did it quite well.

“ I’m sure you had a bit of practice!” he teased.

“Right... three times a day before the wedding, with my imaginary partner...” was her dry response, but this made his throw his head back laughing, making other at the dancefloor stare at him, wondering what made him laugh so loud. He can’t believe that his actually enjoying his wife’s deadpan humour.                                   

                                                         **********  

Sandro sighed in relief, as they bid their goodbyes to their guest. When all had left, him and his wife walked back to their ancestral home. They were to remain there for a day, and return back to his home the next. In fact, his villa wasn’t far from the ancestral house. But he was just too tired to pack-up and drive back with his wife, and he was sure it was the same with her.

Because Tilly had gone up to her room first, the hallways were quiet and empty. The servants were still busy packing up the reception area. So he decided to get himself a little snack in the the kitchen. Much to his surprise, he found Tilly there, already dressed in her dark blue chinoiserie pajamas. She looked and smelled fresh like citrus, an obvious indication that she had just showered. Her face was bare and had no makeup on, despite that, she didn’t look ghastly at all.

Sandro smiles as he approached and sat at the adjacent chair. He looked at what she was munching on and pulled his bow tie in one go.

He looked at one corner to find hot milk with vanilla and cinnamon, and a few slices of toasted bread with jam and peanut butter. She had been considerate enough without telling him and he was grateful. 

“Thank you, Tilda!” he says, as he unbuttons two buttons of his crisp white shirt. Tilly looked at him and nodded, and went back to eating afterwards. 

“We’re going back at 11 tomorrow, so if your not yet done packing, tell me, so we can delay it...” he says as he takes the remaining bread and milk. 

“That’s fine... but I was hoping I can have my breakfast first, would that be alright?” she requested. She was not a jovial person in the morning without her breakfast.

“Yes, of course!” he says, finding his wife’s request reasonable. “What time do you usually wake up? and what do you want for breakfast?” he asked, suddenly his brother-in-law’s advice crossing his mind. ‘A hungry Tilly is not a nice Tilly...’

“I’m fine with anything, as long as I get my cup of tea... preferably lapsang suchong” she mentions.

“Not earl grey?” he said, a little surprised. It was not the typical british choice.

“No, I need the kick in the morning...  I brought some tea bags if you don’t have them...” she says, as she eats her last piece of bread. 

“You came prepared...” Sandro chuckled. 

“ Of course, If I won’t get my kick,  I’ll kick you in the morning instead...” she jokingly and Sandro laughed. “Well, it’s past my bedtime, I’ll see you tomorrow morning at 9:30...” she adds, and stands up from her sit.

“Good night, my lady...” he says with a fake english accent, mimicking Tilly’s. 

Tilly replied with a grunt and brushed it off as she left the kitchen. He watched his wife as she headed back upstairs to her room. Though this marriage is not what he expected, he was very sure that it would not be so boring and that Tilly will be a good wife.

By the way, if you want to read the previous story, here it is, ‘The Beginning of a Marriage’

A/N:  I will be editing this because I probably have made a number of grammatical errors. I hope you enjoyed the story. FYI. It will be a series of one shots. Guys, if you have ideas, I’d love to hear them... currently, I’m having writer’s block (TT____TT)

#Mafia #Omerta #IronLady #Iron Lady #Independent Woman #Michele Morrone #Michele Morrone Face Claim #Michele Morrone Fan Fiction #Michele Morrone FanFiction #Michele Morrone x OFC #Michele Morrone x OC #Michele Morrone x Original Female Character #Original Story #Massimo Torricelli #Massimo Torricelli Face Claim #Massimo Toricelli Inspired #Drama #Action #Comedy

[msilwrites]

The Strange Woman

A/N: Errr... so I thought of just writing this while at home. Enjoy! I just want to add that I'm tired of female characters surrender to their men so easily... or needing their protection all the time... Why can't we have a female lead of equal footing?

Genre: Action/ Drama / Comedy

Sandro Balestreri - Michele Morrone

Tilly McLeod - is an original female character

                                         The Strange Woman

                                          (Written in Sandro’s POV)

My Tio often said that a perfect spouse is someone who you will fit exactly with  because you can weather any storm together. He was probably talking about his wife, my Tia. He was one of the few who was lucky enough to find the right woman. But in this life and world of mine, it is hard to find the right partner, it was like finding a needle in a haystack, moreover I’ve long given up with that thought. Though I never had to chase a woman as many of them vyed for my attention, no one had actually held my attention for long nor have they gotten my entire affection. Everything I felt for them was just lust and was fleeting. I had no intention of entering a relationship, nor do I want to get married. Which is why I am wondering how did I end up sitting in front of a strange English woman, drinking afternoon tea at the back garden of a hotel in Mayfair, going through this arrange ‘marriage’ meeting.

Tilly McLeod was not the type of woman I usually went for. She was not sexy, hot, and sultry nor did she stir up anything inside me when I first looked at her. Don’t get me wrong, she isn’t ugly. In fact, she looked elegant, and was very prim and proper. Though she had a sense of style, her way of dressing was a little conservative compared to the women I’m used to, she only showed a right  amount of skin and it wasn’t even the parts I wanted. 

In fact, her sense of style reminded me of that VOGUE chief in editor, what’s her name again? Was it Anna? I don’t really care if other women considered her stylish because they looked boring and dry to me. If my Tia’s idea of a fine woman and a perfect wife for me is someone who is a stick in the mud, well then she’s certainly found one.

My Tia... she just told me one day that she had found the perfect partner for me and I should fly to London and meet her. At first, I was confused. Everyone in my family knows that I didn’t plan to get tied down. I like my life the way it is. But then she brought up about me having a heir and my horrible taste in women and never stopped harping about it. When she couldn’t convince me, she had to remind me of my grandfather’s will and told me to treat it as some sort of merger, merging with the McLeod family wasn’t such a bad thing. It would after all, expand their family business faster. 

Ah... my grandfather’s will. Find the right woman, make her your wife or get nothing. I actually didn’t mind not inheriting anything from the late old man. After all, I have earned my own keep and wealth, and inherited a lot more from my late father. However, that trickster of an old man knew how to find my weakness. The vineyard that I love and had been passed in our family for generations would be sold away. It’s not that I couldn’t buy it if it happens, but that late scoundrel had specifically prevented me from even purchasing the vineyard.

“Ahemm...” Tilly cleared her throat as she puts down the cup of tea on the table. She takes lifts her eyes and stares right back at me with a smile. In fact there was something wrong about her that I couldn’t pinpoint.

“Thank You for meeting me here today, Sandro!” she greets cordially. “I’m already aware of the situation, so there is nothing to worry about.”

Situation? So she was already briefed then. “ I see, that’s good!” was my short answer. I didn’t really want to prolong this meeting.

“However, before I marry you, I have some conditions...” she mentions, before taking an envelope from her bag and handing it to me. If it was a prenup, I sure had no problem with it.

“Is this a prenup?” I asked

“No...” was her quick reply, before taking a bite of biscuits and washing it down with her tea. “Open and read it...” she instructed.

I did open the envelope out of curiosity and read through the list. Her list of requests wasn’t so strange until I read some parts of it.

 “I want my own cottage with a workshop and a greenhouse not far from your estate or inside your estate”. 

“The cottage should look the same as the one I have here...”

“Whilst my cottage is not yet built, I want my own room and have it renovated to my taste”

“ We’re going to have children through artificial insemination”

The conditions she wrote made me cock my brows. Especially the last one. 

“What’s with these conditions?!”  I looked at her and gave her my most intimidating gaze, but her blue eyes looked right back at me, unafraid, when mosts would be looking away by now.

“I’m sure it’s not too hard? Right?” she answered. “ It wouldn’t probably be a burden to your finances, as I will be paying for the construction, nor do you have to force yourself to like me and force yourself to get stiff and intimate with me. And I think it we will have to do ‘conception’ repeatedly to have a child, and I don’t think we’re both capable of-  ” it was direct and frank, and I didn’t like it. 

“Stop.” I warned as I clenched my teeth and fist. This woman had just bruised my ego. She just insulted my capability financially and sexually, she quickly noticed my shift in mood, making her sit up straight. “ I’ll provide you you your own room and have it renovated to your taste. I will also provide you a space in my estate to build that cottage-workshop of yours, as soon as you send the blue prints. You don’t have to spend anything. As for the issue of having children we will talk about it when the time comes.”

“Huh? But why? I am well aware that I not your cup of tea, nor do you find me attractive. So let’s make it easier for the both of us, Sandro, and I will be out of your hair” she smiled. “Oh, I might as well add. Do you need my assistance in handling ‘things’, or do you want to me to be completely out of your hair?”

“Out of my hair would be good...” I said, not really wanting her to be involved in my life and get in the way of my work. As far as my experience tells me, mosts women tend to be unhealthy distractions. Like what my late father told me before, they are a hell for the soul. Though it seems that Tilly won’t be a distraction at all. I still don’t want anyone get in the way with how I do things.

“Well then... since you said it yourself why don’t you agree to my terms? It is simple, isn’t it? Since this is an arranged marriage. Let me add that you can still continue living your life as a bachelor, playing around with other women or go partying with your blokes and I won’t say anything. Just don’t let me know or catch you? Alright?”

I leaned back and looked at her, intrigued. If she wanted me to continue living my life as a bachelor after getting married, then why does she have a problem with it?  “Why?”

“What do you mean why? Of course, as a woman, I still have some pride...” was her simple answer. It was not satisfactory, but yet understandable.

“Well then, Matilda, I am looking forward to getting married to you, see you at our wedding day...” I stretched out my hand for a handshake and she took them, her grip was surprisingly strong as she shook them.

“Likewise...”

The Next Part of this story is here; ‘Addio Al Celibato’

A/N:  I will be editing this for grammar purposes. I hope you enjoyed the story. FYI. It will be a series of one shots

#Mafia #IronLady #Iron Lady #Independent Woman #Michele Morrone #Michele Morrone Face Claim #Michele Morrone Fan Fiction #Michele Morrone Fanfiction #Original Female Character #Michele Morrone x OFC #Michele Morrone x Original Female Character #Michele Morrone x OC #Original Character #Original Story #Massimo Torricelli #Massimo Torricelli Face Claim #Massimo Torricelli Inspired #Drama #Comedy

[msilwrites]

The Wedding

A/N: Errr... so I finally had enough sleep and inspiration to write whilst at home. Enjoy!

This story is the continuation of ‘Addio Al Celibato’

Genre: Action/ Drama / Comedy

Sandro Balestreri - Michele Morrone

Tilly McLeod - is an original female character

Will McLeod - Liam Neeson

Henry McLeod - Henry Cavill

                                                    The Wedding

Tilly sat quietly in the drawing room, already dressed and groomed for her big day. She was an early riser, therefore, she had requested earlier on to have the make-up artist come at an earlier time.

Any moment now, her bridesmaids, flowergirls and ‘bridesmen’ will fill the drawing room. So whilst the halls were still quiet, she had requested the kitchen to bring her breakfast. She knew that mosts brides didn’t eat during their wedding day. But there is no way she would let herself go through that, knowing that she’d probably faint due to hunger. 

Much to her surprise the food came sooner that expected, and a was styled in  charcuterie boards. Before she could ask anything, the maid had informed her that;

“It’s the instruction from the Don Sandro, it's for your entourage Madame, enjoy and best wishes!”

Tilly smiled and thanked the maid before she left the room. She asked the kitchen only for her meal, because she knew it was still too early to requests food for everyone. She didn’t expect that Sandro would be considerate enough to ask the kitchen to prepare food for her whole entourage. Half-an-hour later the hall was already busy, with her whole entourage either eating, running around, trying to fix their bow tie, or getting their makeup done by the makeup artist. In no time, all the food was quickly finished, the boards had no crumbs nor syrup left on the bowls, which made the people in the kitchen glad, because it meant that the ‘madame’ and her family liked the food.

Whilst waiting for everyone to get ready, Tilly sat on the side and read her magazine that she subscribed to inside her phone. It was one way to kill time since all she needed was a touch up on her make-up before the actual ceremony begins. But her attention shifted when she heard a knock outside of the room. Because nobody was paying attention and was busy with their own thing, Tilly answered the door herself.

“Oh! Emil! how are you?”

“I’m fine, Sandro told me to check on you if you are doing fine or if there is any problem. Since the groom can’t see the bride before the wedding.”

“Oh yes, I remember, come in, please... I need to talk to you,” Tilly said, opening the doors wide for him to come in.

When Emil entered the hall, he was not surprised at the chaos that was happening. There was Tilly’s ‘bridesmen’ on one side, having a banter on how to tie a proper bow tie. Whilst the women were busy with their hair and makeup, and the children were running around nonstop in circles. It was only when Emil was able to sit down that he noticed how ethereal Tilly looks.

“Sandro will definitely like it when he sees you!” he claimed, and Tilly threw her head back laughing, knowing it was the most silly thing in the world.

She wore a white off-shoulder trumpet shaped wedding gown that showed off her swan like neck and well defined collarbones with bell sleeves which seemed amplify her shoulders, and paired it with a gold gothic spiked crown where her veil was hanging, and gold-emerald earrings and necklace.  

“Oh come on, Sandro isn’t that bad!” he claimed.

“He isn’t, but I am not his type,” she reminded Emil, causing him to sigh in embarrassment. “Speaking of Sandro, can you help me relay a message to him?”

“That’s not a problem,”

                                                         **********

“ Vogue Weddings and another Society magazine will be covering the wedding and will be interviewing you both at after the ceremony, preferably before the reception starts.” Emil begins, as he pulls a chair nearby, whilst watching their Tia fix Sandro’s tie.

“And?”

“Act as if you are truly in love with her...” Emil repeats what Tilly has said earlier.

“What? come again?!” Sandro tries to clarify, trying to see if he just misheard things.

“If not, just try to act as if you like her... look at her as if you life her... and before you kiss the bride, if you find it repulsive, just kiss her on the side of her lips, you know, the side facing the crowd, so it would look like an actual kiss.” Emil add, repeating Tilly’s instructions clearly.

“What?! You want me to make her look good?” Sandro’s brows furrowed, he knew that his bride-to-be is a beacon for the press, and have a reputation to uphold, but it doesn’t mean he would exactly relent to her demands.

“Not me... but I think her requests is reasonable!” Emil adds.

“Ai! Figliolo! just give your bride some face in her wedding day!” Their Tia chastised. “She’s not only doing this for herself, but for you too! To give you good press! Besides, no woman would like to be embarrassed in her wedding day!”

“And one more thing!” Emil adds as he turns to their Tia. “Tia, do you know how to apply this?” he says, showing two tube of green and orange concealer.

“ Of course figlio, what for?” their aunt answered.

“ Tilly says apply it on Sandro’s neck, I think his hickey is too obvious.” Emil says.

“My you are right! It looked too weird for an insect bite!” their Tia says, as she examined the hickey on Sandro’s neck.

“Tia!” Sandro backs away in protest, there was no way she would have those weird colour creams touch his skin.

                                                      ********** 

The ceremony began as Sandro and his entourage entered the church filled with beautiful arrangements. The flashing lights of cameras continued as a number of photographers who they hired and the ones from society magazines continued to take photos. 

Sandro sighed, and was resigned to everything, wanting to be over and done with. 

The first that came were the flower girls dressed in black chiffon dresses, followed by the bible and ring bearer dressed in ‘skirts’. 

The next was her bridesmen, and bridesmaids who were both dressed in black. Much to his chagrin, the men wore some sort of skirts. It was something weird for Sandro, but then again, he had to remind himself that his bride is strange too.

“Tell me Emil, why are they wearing skirts?” Sandro whispered to his cousin who also stood as his best man.

Emil, noticing his cousins eye twitching, chuckled. “Sandro... those are ‘kilts’... they are not skirts. It’s a tradition amongst Scottish, there is nothing wrong with it” he replies like a ‘know-it-all’, chastising manner which further annoys Sandro. 

The tune of music suddenly changes when the turn came for the bride to walk in. And the moment the bridal march began, Sandro finally turned to the direction of where his bride stood and he was astounded. Tilly looked so beautiful, elegant, and ethereal that made his mouth hung agape. 

“A fly might go inside your mouth if you don’t close it...” Emil teased.

Sandro glared at his cousin before turning his attention back to his bride.

Tilly’s parents walked with her until they reached the end of the aisle. Much to Sandro’s surprise Mr. and Mrs. Mcleod started tearing up, as they handed their daughter’s hand to the him. It was totally unexpected to see a tough ol’ mob boss crying.

Tilly beamed at him, as she stretched out her hand for him to take, as if telling him what to do. Sandro returned her smile, much to her surprise, before taking her hand, and climbing the stairs to the altar. 

Because there no vows, much to the Priest’s chagrin, the ceremony didn’t take that long. Afterwards, the long awaited part, where the bride and groom must kiss came. Both of them faced each other. Tilly smiled and mouthed “Remember what I told you earlier!” reminding him of her previous instruction.

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priests said.

Sandro’s lips curved into a naughty smile, which made Tilly suddenly nervous. And with that, he pulls up her veil, cups her face, and gives her the most passionate kiss, which made Tilly’s eyes widen in surprise and throw her off balance. 

All the guest cheered louder than before, causing heat to rush to her cheeks. She almost lost balance when the kiss was over, but Sandro was quick to catch her, wrapping a possessive hand around her lower back. That mischievous smile, still plastered on his lips.

Tilly hits him playfully in the chest with her bouquet and chastises him “  giamburrasca! what has gotten into you!?”

Sandro did not respond, and just smiled at her.

“Introducing Mr and Mrs Alessandro Balestreri!” the priest announced, and everyone cheered.

The recessional music plays, a cue for them to exit the ceremony. Tilly whispers to Sandro that he may let his arm go now, referring to his arm that was around her waist. But Sandro didn’t, and just continued to give her that smile of his.

“giamburrasca!” she complained and just sighed, resigned to it, causing him to chuckle in response, seeing his wife’s reaction.

Sandro pulled her closer by the waist and they began to walk down the aisle and to the front door of the church. 

The guests quickly walked outside as well, getting their confetti of rice to throw at them. 

Outside, a handful of loose rice confetti was thrown to the newly married couple. The flower girls, joined in, throwing the remaining flowers in their baskets to. The photographers kept taking pictures, getting a numerous number magazine worthy shots.

In that moment, it was strange, but Sandro actually felt happy. He couldn’t say the same for his wife, but it did look like she felt the same, seeing that dimpled wide smile on her face that wrinkled her eyes. 

As they reached their bridal car, Tilly turned back, signalling that all single ladies must get ready to catch bouquet. 

Sandro watched in amusement of how many of them gathered at the centre, a few metres behind his wife.

Tilly throws the bouquet high, some of the ladies jump, trying to reach for it, but much to their chagrin, the bouquet landed at her younger brother, Henry’s hands, causing everyone to erupt in laughter including Sandro.

Embarrassed, Henry quickly throws the bouquet back to where all the ladies gathered, and much to everyone’s amusement, the ladies still fought for it. 

Tilly turns away from the crowd as Sandro opens the passenger seat of their bridal car for his wife. It a vintage tessa rossa spider with purple lilies in front which made her compliment her husband’s taste.

“It looks cute and classic!” she mentions as she closes the door. 

He smiles at her compliment, before driving away, heading to their wedding reception.

By the way, if you want to read the previous story, here it is,  ‘Addio Al Celibato’

The Next Part of this story is here; ‘The Beginning of a Marriage’

A/N:  I will be editing this because I probably have made a number of grammatical errors. I hope you enjoyed the story. FYI. It will be a series of one shots

#Mafia #IronLady #Iron Lady #Independent Woman #Michele Morrone #Michele Morrone Face Claim #Michele Morrone Fan Fiction #Michele Morrone FanFiction #Michele Morrone x OFC #Michelle Morrone x OC #Michele Morrone x Original Female Character #Original Story #Massimo Torricelli #Massimo Torricelli Face Claim #Massimo Torricelli Inspired #Drama #Action #Comedy

[msilwrites]

Addio al celibato

A/N: Errr... so I finally had enough sleep and inspiration to write whilst at home. Enjoy! 

This story is the continuation of ‘The Strange Woman’. 

Genre: Action/ Drama / Comedy

Sandro Balestreri - Michele Morrone

Tilly McLeod - is an original female character

Will McLeod - Liam Neeson 

Henry McLeod - Henry Cavill

                                                 Addio al celibato

                                                  Sandro’s POV

 I thought the next time I would see Tilly would be at the wedding. I had almost forgotten of the parties that are to take place before the event. There was the preparations for the wedding, the engagement party, and her Addio al Nubilato.

Tilly told me that she would take care of the all wedding preparations, including financially, and my job was just to show up on the wedding day. I was of course, insulted again. Though I am now fully aware that Tilly is capable in handling details, I didn’t like the way she seemed to doubt my capabilities, and made me feel that I wasn’t dependable enough as a man. 

“But Sandro, I’m just helping you by getting rid of the burdens... so I’ll handle everything. After all, this is an arranged marriage, I know my own place and I am sure you would want nothing to do with this wedding or marriage.” was her reply. I didn’t like her answer. She often make it sound like I’m ‘useless’ and intolerable. Of course, despite this being an arranged marriage, it never meant that I was unwilling to help out with the preparations. In the end she had agreed with a smile and she had begrudgingly let me play a part. 

When I was helping out with the preparations, I had managed to get a look at the invitations she had sent out for the party and wedding. To my surprise, her Addio al nubilato invitation included those big ‘La Familias’ which makes it suspicious. I am fully aware that this woman is the daughter of one of Scotland’s laird, and secretly the most dangerous mob boss with the big cannabis empire, but she didn’t look like she had any involvement with her family’s business. Nor does she look like someone who can even kill an ant. Moreover, isn’t an ‘Addio al nubilato’ supposed to have women as a guest only?!

“Oh, they’re family friends, of course, I must invite them! And well, no one really made the rule that you can’t invite men to a bride’s party as long as they are the bride’s entourage, right?” was her quick answer. “Well, everyone does the same thing differently.” she added, before turning her back to me in a hurry, leaving my office.

For some reason, there is this nagging feeling telling me that there is indeed something strange with Tilly. Warnings were flashing in my head, and I couldn’t pinpoint what it was? So out of suspicion, I asked my right hand man  Emil to keep a watch at her, and that includes escorting her to her own bridal shower. To my surprise Tilly was fine with it and thought nothing of it.

                                                          **********

To Emil’s surprise, his cousin’s bride, despite her dry british humor, was actually funny and easy to get along with. He didn’t understand what was Sandro so suspicious about his harmless wife to be. Throughout the car ride to the venue, Tilly spent mosts of her time, answering phone calls either about work or the party preparations.

When they finally arrived at the place, Emil was impressed with how Tilly organized her whole bridal party. It felt like some sort of rustic/gothic neo-noir carnival, with fire dancers and breathers. 

A funky jazz rock band complete with saxophones,strings, drums and rock guitar was playing on the side which surprisingly played good music, matching the atmosphere. There was also a magician who was set to perform. The decorations, and food looked very superb. A bar was stationed in the side, serving the bride’s favourite type of red wine, craft beers and whiskey. On the other was a barbecue pit, roasting what looked like a large piece of lamb and on the table was a large antipasto filled with pancetta, different types of cheese, grapes, and many more finger foods. The table was also decorated with purple flowers, black candles and black lace tablecloth.

On the centre was a black tiered cake decorated with flowers, according to Tilly, it was her favourite caramel banana and dark chocolate cake. 

For some reason it felt like some sort of gothic Hogwarts has graced in Sicily. He couldn’t be more certain about it, specially when Tilly’s guest arrived.

The first to arrive were her family; her parents William and Ottilie Mcleod and her younger brother Henry McLeod. The roar of the big bikes they rode to the venue could be heard from afar. WillIam with his wife sitting behind him, rode ahead of their son. When they unmounted from their bikes, they quickly greeted their daughter with lots of hugs and a kiss in the forehead. To Emil’s surprise, he never would’ve thought the he would one day see the tough mob boss William and his wife cry, whilst saying that they ‘never thought this day would come’. Whilst Henry, her younger brother blew his nose, who also ended up in tears.

“Da, Mum . You know it’s just 3 hours from Edinburgh to Italy” he reasoned. 

A few minutes later, the rest of the entourage arrived. Emil could already guest their arrival even from afar. The roar of the bikes were very loud, especially the fact that it was a big group that was approaching.

Tilly’s brother Henry passed his sister a fancy paper bag which contained a leather jacket that was embroidered with the word, “Bride”. She quickly wore it, and pinched her brother’s cheeks as a way of saying thank you, before walking to the reception to welcome the rest of her guest.

Her guests parked their bikes, and alighted whilst taking off their helmets. Emil would’ve mistaken the event for a GQ photoshoot because of how dapper her guests looked. The men wore black suits and the women wore black dresses paired with biker jackets, following the dark theme of the party. 

“Emil! come, you are my guest for today, so please enjoy the party.” Tilly called.

For some reason Emil was very sure that he would enjoy Tilly’s party instead of his cousin Sandro’s Addio Al Celebato and didn’t regret going with her.

                                                      **********

The sound of groans echoed throughout the whole hotel room. Sandro looked down at the woman who was writhing beneath him, whilst he thrust into her continuously. The woman have come up to him during his bachelor party. Despite being dressed classy, she looked seductive and had provoke the men in his party, including him.

Hitting a sensitive spot inside her, the woman moaned causing her to arch her back like a cat. The woman and Sandro finished together with a final thrust and both fell back into the bed. He couldn’t understand why, that thought he was with another woman right now, he was thinking of another. None other than his wife to be, Mathilda McLeod. 

The report that Emil had sent to him earlier regarding her party crossed his mind. Tilly looked happy and had a glow in her cheeks. She looked genuinely happy with the smiles she gave to her guests compared to the ones she had given Sandro, which often looked forced and stiff. 

He shook the thought about Tilly out of his head, and his thoughts went to Emil. That traitor... Emil refused to come over to Sandro’s party and he also had the nerve to  say that boring English woman throws a better party than him, claiming that ‘Hogwarts’ full of ‘deatheaters’ was better than a pumping nightclub with drinks, hot girls and strippers.

His thoughts was interrupted when his companion offered her full red lips for a kiss which he denied. A behaviour that was unlikely of him. Ever since he had met that oddball Tilly, all he could think about was her. He hated to admit, that he was intrigued by her and her ‘oddness’.

Dismissing his companion, he told her to get dressed and leave. Glancing at the woman, he couldn’t help but compare her to Tilly. The disparity between her and the women he usually went for, including the one who he had just slept with, was great.

It annoyed and confused him. It was after all an unfamiliar feeling. Despite Tilly’s sunny disposition, she didn’t look at him like mosts women did. She had not made a move to seduce and sleep with him, much less talk to him, unless it was related to the wedding and their arrangements.

It wasn’t long before he was out and away from both the hotel room and the woman inside.

Tapping absentmindedly on the steering wheel of his car, he didn’t realize that he had already arrived home. He checked the time and realized that it was already three in the morning. Alighting out his car, he snapped his head at the direction of the loud roar of multiple engines, approaching the estate. He quickly went up to the terrace to see what was all that noise. 

In front of the Range Rover he had provided Tilly as a ride, a group of men and women dressed in black suits and dresses rode their motorbikes until the gate, his bride-to-be, was seating behind another person, her hands, on the shoulder of the man. And for some reason, a pang of jealousy hit him. 

Tilly alighted, and kissed the man’s cheek, before all of the riders, blew their horns and cheered, whilst riding away from the estate. 

Sandro headed downstairs to meet them, and saw Emil, his two bodyguards, and Tilly, talking whilst laughing as they enter the casa. 

“I see that you all had fun...” was Sandro’s ‘greeting’.

Emil and his two bodyguards quickly stood up straight. Whilsts Tilly’s smile faded upon seeing Sandro. This not only annoyed him, but also bothered him.

“Well, good night, Madame Tilly!” Emil bows with a fake english accent, “Bye Sandro!” he adds, before he leaves the house with his two bodyguards in tow. 

When it was just the two of them, it became awkward because of the silence, so Tilly made the first move, attempting to excuse herself  to head upstairs in her room and call it a night. However, Sandro had stopped her midway.

“Who was that just now?” he asked, sounding a little more confrontational.

“Huh? That was Emil...” she answered whilst her brows furrowed. Was there someone else there?

“I mean the man you kissed in the cheek... who was that?”

“Oh... that was-” before she could even finish, Sandro quickly interjects.

“I know that this is an arranged marriage, but it is viewed differently when the woman is the one who cheats... I know you told me to be discreet, but couldn’t you do the same for yourself?” he mentions,  which sounded like an accusation. He didn’t mean it but he quickly realized his mistake as her expression changed.

She looked at him and chuckled, what he expected to be the stiff smile she often gave, turned into something else. Her lips twisted into a contemptuous smile,  the wrinkle of joy in the corner of her blue eyes disappeared, and her expression turned cold. “That was my younger brother, Henry. You will meet him at the wedding.” she says, devoid of any affection.

Sandro felt guilty for accusing her, but it soon turned into surprise when she suddenly walked towards him. Her cold eyes looking straight at him, not wavering, causing him to step backwards as she was getting a little too close for comfort. Tilly might only be 5′2 and a half, but Sandro felt that it as if she stood tall like him.

Tilly touched his neck with a flick  of a finger, hitting his skin. “Ipocrita...” she says in a low stern voice before walking away, but not before giving him a cold glare.

Sandro’s eyes widened in disbelief at her audacity and what she had just said. Only for him to realize that he had almost forgotten about the hickey that was on his neck.

By the way, if you want to read the previous story, here it is,  ‘The Strange Woman’.

The Next Part of this story is here; The Wedding

A/N:  I will be editing this because I probably have made a number of grammatical errors. I hope you enjoyed the story. FYI. It will be a series of one shots

#Mafia #IronLady #Iron Lady #Independent Woman #Michele Morrone #Michele Morrone Face Claim #Michele Morrone Fan Fiction #Michele Morrone FanFiction #original female character #Michele Morrone x OFC #Michele Morrone x OC #Michele Morrone x Original Female Character #Original Story #Massimo Torricelli #Massimo Torricelli Face Claim #Massimo Torricelli Inspired #Drama #Action #Comedy

[buckyownsmylife]

My headcanons masterlist

AARON HOTCHNER

he’s dating a younger woman

ANDY BARBER

he’s jealous

you’re trying to have a baby

you take care of him after a lousy day at work

he keeps you out of jail but makes you pay for his services

professor!Andy’s excited to pleasure you

AUGUST WALKER

he wants to punish you

him being a dom

he kidnaps you

he’s your bodyguard and realises he wants a future with you

BUCKY BARNES

using a strap-on on him

he doesn’t know how to behave around you

he has a praise kink

he finds out about your abusive ex

he throws you a surprise birthday party

seeing him with short hair for the first time

the extent of his daddy kink

you like the sound of his dog tags

he tames your bratty self

you’re insecure (don’t know what for/jk) and he praises you

he’s protective of you

he acts jealous

he fingers you under the table in front of his friends

him as a father

you’re his getaway driver

he and steve worship your body

CAPTAIN SYVERSON

he’s rough on you

he punishes you

CHRIS EVANS

he gets freaked out over a dangerous scene you’re filming

he’s greedy

he’s greedy, second take (or fwb edition)

the one where he realizes his feelings for you when he’s about to get married

you have sex at a party

he tells the world you’re dating (when you’re not)

you tease him with a short dress and he punishes you

how he compensates for being a bad dom

he interrupts your zoom class

you give bff!Chris baby fever

DEAN WINCHESTER

him with an innocence kink

HARRY STYLES

you’re a singer and he gives you a ride on his bus

HENRY CAVILL

your first kiss with him

you turn him on during training

you help him shave

he wants to convince you that DC is better

he finds out you like fanfiction 

he punishes you for ruining his game

he finds out about your crush on superman

he’s addicted to throatfucking you

jealous sex

he fucks you in a pool

you have a subdrop

JAKE GYLLENHAAL

he’s an arrogant daddy

you tease dom!Jake and his exhibitionism kink comes into play

he makes tom clean you up after he’s done with you

his idea of a punishment

he wants to try a new position

he’s in a mood to degrade you

he makes you squirt when slapping your pussy

you’re his younger co-star and he can’t help but flirt with you

you burst into tears after spending some time apart

you sit on his face

he keeps distracting you while you watch tv

LEE BODECKER

you like to be degraded by him

he saves you from a drunk guy in the bar

you’re sick and he doesn’t know what to do

he teaches you how to give him a blowjob

LOGAN DELOS

trying to teach him something

LOGAN HOWLETT

begging him to help you with your heat

Him being jealous

he makes you do all the work

someone hits on you

LOKI LAUFEYSON

him with a breeding kink

him with an innocence kink

he’s insecure and avoids you

he wants to know all of your kinks

he hears your voice for the first time

you’re wholesome and innocent and loki wants to protect that

he catches you singing

he doesn’t want you to see him in his jotun form

he realizes he fell in love with a human

he corners you during a party

he takes your virginity

he’s a mobster

you convince him you can take him

MASSIMO TORRICELLI

he’s a drama queen and can’t be away from you

MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

asking you to move in

confessing his love to you while drunk

RANSOM DRYSDALE

he hears you say your ex was better at oral

you’re dating and he’s feeling soft

you play strip twister together

edging him

he’s jealous and ends up saying and doing stupid things

how he compensates for being a bad dom

he comes home to find out that you’ve adopted a kitten

his family thinks you’re needy

he spanks you in the middle of a party

SAM WILSON

you stand up for him and confront Bucky

he’s trying to get on your nerves by using red wing

you’re his getaway driver

he checks on your pierced nipples

he throatfucks you while your boyfriend watches

he fucks you while forcing you to stare at Steve

you can’t fit his dick inside of you

you have to keep his cum inside of you

you sit on his face

he eats your a*s

sam with a lingerie kink

SEBASTIAN STAN

he picks you up at a bar

he saves you from a creep at a bar

he likes seeing you in his clothes

SPENCER REID

riding him

giving him a blowjob

you’re just his type

STEVE ROGERS

the extent of his daddy kink

he wants to be a sub

how he compensates for being a bad dom

he’s your snack... yes, I wrote that correctly

he likes seeing you in his clothes

he’s patient with your sexual relationship

he conforts you when you’re feeling anxious

he has a degradation kink but always makes sure to take care of you later

he fucks you on a beach

he loves to spank you

he and bucky worship your body

your daddy spanks you

TOM HARDY

being fingerfucked by him

sharing a bath with him

jealous sex with him

he fucks you on the floor

he’s obsessed with your new nipple piercings

you want to fuck him all the time

he likes then you’re bratty

he’s obsessed with your breasts

you wake him up by going down on him

he has an innocence kink

he teaches you how to touch yourself

he has a breeding kink

he takes care of you when you’re drunk

you try to take control to show how adventurous you can be

the extent of his daddy kink

he has an innocence kink pt. 2

friends to lovers

he finds out he managed to get you pregnant

he has an innocence kink pt. 3

you’re being a brat so he spanks you

he knows you like his dirty mouth

another friends to lovers

he likes to tease you

he uses you to get rid of his anger

dom!tom and shy reader

him as a sub

he wants to help you get over your fear of bikes

he comes home with yet another dog

he calms you down when you’re having an anxiety attack

angry/jealous make up sex

he’s obsessed with your ass

he’s your boss and you calm him down after a fight with your boyfriend by blowing him off

he takes your virginity (innocence kink pt. 4)

you get a tattoo for him

he pretends to be your boyfriend and then decides he wants to become it

he meets your parents for the first time

he has a degradation kink

you and tom try anal for the first time (innocence kink pt. 5)\

bff!tom has a solution for your sexual deprivation: overstimulation

you get jealous of bff!Tom

TOM HIDDLESTON

he makes you take all of him

you tease him during dinner

you like when he talks dirty

he cleans you up after jake’s done with you

he makes sure you have a perfect birthday

TOM HOLLAND

giving him a handjob

you turn him on while practicing yoga

mob tom makes you sit on his face

#masterlist

[dearest-alexander]

Hither and Thither- 365 DNI fanfic

Summary: She saved him, in so many ways a man could be saved. Massimo x Laura. 

Author’s Notes: I’ve uploaded this on AO3 & FF. I’m more active there, than here. Please check the sites for updates. 

Read it here:

Archive of our Own

Fanfiction

CHAPTER 1

The Don was talking about something.

The gentle, raspy voice was contrary to the cunning, dangerous man his father could be.

"Molto bene, molto bene, Mario." His father exclaimed in that giddy tone and slapped the man's shoulder, sitting in the front passenger seat. The man gave his father's hand a reassuring squeeze.

He couldn't help but wonder if his father's animateness was a good or bad thing. Being in the family business, the terms are sometimes... interchanged, by certain and normal people anyway.

"What would we do without him?" His father, the Don Torricelli, continued, looking at him for acknowledgment.

"A couple of fun things, for a start." He jested, earning a chuckle from his father and Mario.

Mario was his father's most loyal friend and confidant. He was there ever since he can remember. He was practically family, almost like a second father to him. But he was the strictest man he knew, even stricter than his father. Though, not more dangerous.

He gave a deep sigh and settled in his seat, switching his attention to the familiar scenery of Cefalú.

The familiar streets and alleys blurred as they passed. Locals and tourists alike flooded the white sandy beach. Their big umbrellas providing color to the already-rich scenery. Food carts swarmed the shore, providing refreshments in the scorching Italian summer heat. Everyone seemed to be enjoying the heat.

Everyone one except him.

It was the heat. If there was one thing he hated more than disloyalty and disobedience, it was the fucking heat. He almost didn't want to come today because of it.

But he had to.

"It's part of learning the trade." Mario reminded him this morning— just as he had done on more than one occasion.

Not that he wasn't interested in what his father does—which he was, a hundred percent. But there was this, sort of, defiance. Knowing that the choices he wanted to make have already been made for him, gives him a compelling urge to rebel. To break free and try his own luck in the business.

He wanted to step in, take over, show his father what he's capable of. Show him, without words, that his son was ready to take over. He wanted to see the notorious Victorio Torricelli actually grow old.

He wanted his father to finally surrender his gun in exchange for a quiet life. Because, he was aware that a lot of people in their way of life don't and won't have the same option.

But, like a young cub, he's shunted of his efforts.

"Learn how to walk first before you can run, figlio."

Despite his personal afflictions in anything that involved emotions, he loved his father. He revered him more than anyone else. His father might be the only thing in this world he truly cared about.

And money, of course.

The car stopped at their destination; a restaurant in the middle of a marketplace, right at the heart of the town. He exchanged a disapproving look with Mario through the rearview mirror. It was unusual for the Don to pick such a public venue for a meeting.

He was not hiding his objection and tried persuading his father to change location since the day he knew.

"Pa, it's too public. You can't be serious."

"Ah, figlio. Always worrying about me."

And why shouldn't he?

When your father's the most feared, most dangerous man in Europe, you learn to sleep with a gun in your hand.

As accustomed, they waited for a few minutes for their detail to secure and check the place. He usually assisted them, but under this weather?

No fucking way.

Mario and his father fell into a quick conversation about when they were teenagers. His dad had retold countless stories about his and Mario's prime. Just two privileged Italian legacies, against the world.

"You remember those girls at the beach?"

"Ey! Didn't you sleep with one of them?" his dad chirped.

"No, I didn't!"

"You did! You son of a bitch!"

"I slept with two!" Mario carolled, making him think of something gross.

They laughed, that good-natured laugh, he could aways expect from them.

He only half listened and continued to ogle at the mundane events happening before him.

The crowd was a river of people from all walks of life. A riot of colorful clothes under a huge tent of different loots and merchandise.

Everyone seemed to move from all different directions. The cacophony of blabber outside reverberated even on his tinted windows. Heat radiated their jolly faces. He could easily spot the tourists by their awful hats and big ass cameras hanging around their neck. And the locals, with their loud and rude gesticulation.

There was music coming from the makeshift stage on the beach. A few sunburnt, drunk, and barely clad guests were swaying to the bass. If everything went as planned today, they could stay the night here and he could slip to the rave.

His eyes fell on the bookstand a few feet west from where their car was. A couple of skateboard punks wheezed through the stand. One of them nudged the corner of the table and mountains of books toppled on the sandy pavement. He could hear the owner screaming at the kids, who didn't even turn back. His face was crimson with anger, a book threatening to fly from his hairy hand.

A petite woman with dark hair scrunched under a floppy hat, approached him. Her light skin was a fair contrast to the blue summer ensemble she's donning. She squatted down to help the poor man.

It startled him for a second.

Kindness has always been a mystery to him.

To him, kindness was the coercive reaction and result to fear.

Nothing in this world has been ever genuine—he realized that from a very young age.

Must be a foreigner. He thought. No local could be that generous.

He watched as the man, who appeared flushed all of a sudden, stood up, books recovered under his arms. The lady, who still had her back to the car, offered her gathered books back to the vendor. She must have said something because the man was nodding in a very vigorous manner. She then proceeded to slide her fingers on the display of books.

The merchant was still staring at her with a stupid smile on his wrinkled face. The woman picked up a book. She showed it to the man who nodded and grabbed a bag from under the table.

He observed, with an amused and curious expression as the people passing by the tent all did a double take at the woman. Some women narrowed their eyes, as if envious while all men have sheepish grins on their faces.

He sat straighter in his seat.

Turn around, baby girl.

The woman was and completely in her own element. He found himself transfixed by the way she's skimming her slender fingers on the book stacks

He caught himself and frowned.

What the fuck?

"Cosa pensi, Massimo?" His father asked.

He whipped his head back to his father, and tried to look anything but distracted.

A knock rapped Mario's window, saving him from his father's inquisitive brow. Outside, Domenico, his half-brother, gave them an assuring nod.

Mario got out first, before him and his father. Perspiration trickled down his neck in an instant. His hair clung in clusters on his nape.

He cursed.

He couldn't understand how anyone could enjoy themselves when the weather was dry and as hot as a desert. He could feel the gravel smoldering beneath his shoes. He might as well ask one of his guards to fry an egg on the sidewalk to prove the point to his father.

His father knew how much he hated the Italian summer heat.

"Whoa! Hot! Hot" His dad smirked at him, a teasing glint in his eyes. He was fanning his hands with an exaggerated flair before an umbrella came to his aid.

He groaned and rolled his eyes at his father. Taking pride in himself that he was the only person allowed to do so.

Six men from the entourage, stood beside them as they walked towards the restaurant.

Upon entry, they're welcomed by the loud blabbers and aroma of Mediterranean dishes.

"Buon pomeriggio."

A tall, lean, olive-skinned woman greeted them, her dark eyes lingering on him the most. He removed his sunglasses and tucked in on his dress shirt.

He heard the woman's breath hitched.

He couldn't help the smug smirk that formed on his lips.

Mario stepped in. And the woman bowed her head, as if finally recognizing the dangerous men before her. In an instant, she cast her eyes down and moved out of the way.

May be I'll have my fun with her later.

Domenico lead them to a wooden staircase and outside the balcony. A couple of diners were there, seated under their own umbrellas. Cocktails, appetizers on hand.

Great. More parching heat.

He walked to a secluded tent in the corner, away from the impertinent eyes and ears of civilians.

Two men were already sitting under the canopy, waiting, looking angst.

As they should be.

They're negotiators for a new venture his dad was looking into.

They lowered their eyes as they shook his father's hand. Their adoration was plain on their faces.

But were they real though?

He learned that love and fear, like good and bad, have interchangeable terms.

In this lifestyle, anyway.

Their men spread out and around the perimeter. Their authoritative presence was alarming some of the guests, who didn't hesitate to up and left.

His father and Mario sat down across the two men. While he maintained his distance.

This particular time, he wasn't allowed to join them. Considering what happened last week, he's banned from all negotiations until further notice.

He stood over the railings to past the time and asked for the binoculars from his guard. He occupied himself with the arid and suburban landscape of Cefalu. The heat was emanating from all surfaces and buildings. It's making him even more thirsty than he was

"Get me a bottle of beer. Ice cold. Have that beautiful lady receptionist bring it up to me."

Alek, his guard ever since he was sixteen, nodded and left.

He was looking out into the water when he heard the heightened pitch of his dad. He put the equipment away and observed.

From the pronounced scowl on his father's face, he could assume that it won't be getting any better. His future plans to sneak out later this evening was automatically canceled.

His father stood up and raised his hand in a dismissive wave.

That was the end of the discussion.

He looked pissed.

But as soon as the Don met his gaze, the old man smiled, the corner of his eyes shining with mischief.

"Fucking opportunists." His father cussed, clapping him on the back.

"You want me to talk to them?"

The Don shook his head and glanced back. "Mario's handling it." He gestured to the binoculars. "We don't want you threatening them away again, do we, son?"

He simpered, "But it's so much fun."

"Figlio, sometimes, you have to compromise. We have to make sure that we have certain people on our side exactly when we need them to be."

"I don't think you need anything or anyone else anymore."

His father laughed, removing the binocs from his face. "Have I thought you nothing?"

That's when he realized what how he must have sounded.

"Non accontentarti mai, anche se hai tutto, Massimo." His dad reiterated, forcing another smile from him. "Don't ever-"

"Don't ever settle. Even if you have everything." he repeated. "I know Pa, I know. My bad."

His father grabbed his shoulders so he was facing him. "And you do your best not to forget it."

He beamed down at him. "Sì."

His father cupped his face, like when he was a kid. The dark eyes, feared by many, gleamed with a raw and familiar with emotion.

And he knew why; he has his mother's eyes. His father often told him that he could still see her stubbornness alight in them every time they talk. He placed a hand on his father's forearm.

"You're-" He heard a sharp whoosh of wind and his father's sentence abruptly stopped. The paternal smile faded and a shocked expression replaced it.

His mind and body went numb.

Behind them, someone shouted. And chaos breaks.

He held his father. One hand on his shoulder, the other on the gushing wound staining his chest.

What's happening?

He was trying to keep them upright, but he felt weak, like someone's, something, was sucking the life out of him. His father slipped from his hands and dropped on his back.

His world went into a complete standstill.

A tight, burning pressure permeated from his torso and he fell down. Arms splayed out, the bright, yellow sun, blinding him.

The men were running, their guns poised in the air. The guests on the balcony scrambled down the staircase, screaming their heads off. He saw a flash of blue before he heard Mario shouted different orders to the men.

He closed his eyes and tasted the rust on his tongue. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound ever came. A pain shoot from his side, like a thousand hot electric needles pricking him. His muscles were tense. He was sweating, but at the same time felt like someone poured a bucket of ice cold water on him. He coughed and thick, warm liquid spurted out of his mouth.

No.

He became aware of his heartbeat slowing down, its weak thumps vibrating in his ears. The excruciating pain doubled, paralyzing him even more. His breathing became shallow, fast, gasps. He heard his name shouted over the dry wind.

Domenico.

Domenico crouched down and shook him. He slapped his face, his expression livid.

He and Domenico loved wrestling and kick-boxing, since they were kids. Being older and bigger than Nico, gave him a huge disadvantage; he always wins. Nico doesn't have a chance.

He almost wanted to taunt his brother and point out that this is the first time he couldn't get up to beat his ass.

"Wake up!" He grabbed the lapels of his shirt, pulling him up. "Don't you dare die on me!"

He winced, both from the pain, shaking his entire body and his little brother's trembling voice.

Idiot.

Leave me alone, Nico.

He never felt so exhausted.

Papa, Go to Papa.

He wanted to sleep.

Leave me be.

He just wanted to fucking sleep.

Domenico stopped shaking him. Somebody from behind grabbed his brother away. Domenico cried out, struggling to get back.

Get him out of here. Get both them out of here.

He closed his eyes and swallowed. He heard voices, so many voices. But they're muffled, like someone put cotton in his ears, drowning him out. He could feel each footfall vibrating on the ground. Somehow, he couldn't feel the heat he felt from it earlier.

He only felt the cold.

Good. I hate the fucking summer.

Everybody seemed to have abandoned him.

Finally.

He wanted to rest.

Time to rest.

But then, a shadow fell above his closed eyes, blocking out the blistering sun. A warm, soft hand touched his, raised it and pressed it on his chest. He felt it ran over his face, leaving tingling, warm impression.

It surprised him.

Without warning whatsoever, the warm, comforting sensation pulled him back. Away from the cold, drab void sucking him.

Then, the warmth left him, as swiftly as it came.

No.

Come back.

It was a struggle to open his eyes. But he did.

He blinked and sees someone, a woman, hovering over him.

Why does she look so familiar?

Then it hit him.

The woman in the bookshop.

The moment his eyes focused on her, she seemed relieved.

He felt it resonate through him.

Somehow, she appeared brighter, more unbearable to look at than the fucking sun above them.

She removed her floppy hat, placed it behind his head and used it as a cushion. She smiled down at him. Her mouth was moving, but he couldn't hear what she was saying.

He concentrated on her dark eyes, and even darker, almost, raven hair, flowing freely over the wind. Her lips were pink and soft as a carnation in full bloom. Her nose, tall and prominent. Her jaws, chiseled to look at but felt so delicate to touch.

He felt the remaining air knocked out of him.

He wanted to reach up and caress her beautiful face, but his body wasn't cooperating with him at the moment. Because everything hurts.

Everything fucking hurts.

The woman worked above him. He couldn't tell what she was doing. But his eyes bulged out of its sockets when he felt her, pressing her hand, hard, on his side.

He looked down and saw her holding a blood-soaked napkin on his torso. A sharp pain lanced through him, making him bite on his tongue. He closed his fist around hers.

Please, stop.

The woman cradled his head, soothing him. Her sweet, but firm voice, muffled by the pain. "We have to keep applying pressure. You're alright. You're okay."

The discomfort from his side was making it harder to think. He saw colorful spots flashed before his eyes, merging and splitting into thousand circular patterns. He let out a strangled scream and held the woman's wrist.

Make it stop.

"I'm sorry, I know it hurts. But I have to, okay?"

Her face swam back into focus again, clearer than everything and everyone else.

Her hair was falling around her face. He wondered what her hair would feel like wrapped around his finger. He wanted to tuck it behind her ear and see her blush.

He wanted to see it more than anything else.

"It's okay, you're gonna be okay." He heard her cooed through the haze before then she roared, "You work for him?!" Her voice as sharp as her face.

"Ye-yes." He recognized Alek's voice, the only one in his men who can speak English.

"Okay!... Bring me a flat surface... No… I don't care! Break the table, if you have to! He needs to be lying down!"

He never heard someone yelled at his men like that, not even his father, not even him. This tiny woman was barking orders to his people like she fucking owns them.

Atta, girl.

He felt his body spasm out of control; he was trembling again. This time, it's more unnerving than the last. The consciousness, he was trying his best to hold on to was slipping.

He was falling through the empty, dark space again; the space he knew was reserved for people like him.

"Hey! Hey! I'm here! I'm here!" she shouted at him, raking her fingers through his hair.

That felt good.

"Look at me."

And he did.

Her eyes were enthralling, it felt like they were the only thing keeping him here. It felt like it would hurt more to look away.

What color are they? He mused.

A flashback appeared before his eyes- a forgotten memory. He's eight again. He's baking. His mom was laughing beside him. He missed her laugh. She was letting him whisk the melted dark chocolate for the cake. She dipped her fingers in the bowl and bopped him on the nose.

Mamma.

"No, no no." he heard the raven-haired woman again. Her voice, disembodied like she's talking from behind a veil.

The wonderful slender fingers stroke his jaw again, like she did those books. "Stay with me." she said. Her tone was the borderline between a plead and a direct order.

He wanted to laugh. Nobody orders him around. But he did as he's told.

"That's it. Eyes on me." She uttered with her big, penetrating eyes.

Gray. Her eyes were gray, like the color of a giant sea storm.

"Where's that table?!" she howled again.

He kept his gaze on her, trying to name and decipher all the grays in her eyes.

If his life wasn't ebbing away, he would've found the situation ludicrous. The great Massimo Torricelli was finally taking his time gazing at someone else's eyes for the very first time.

And the last time.

How fucking twisted is that?

"Stay with me. Stay with me. They're coming." She whispered. One hand was holding his head up, the other was still in the gnashing bullet wound, applying pressure. The blood spilling from him was staining the blue romper she's wearing. He felt sorry. Why does he always have to destroy beautiful things?

I'm sorry. He almost wanted to say.

Dying really does bring the firsts out of people.

"Hurry up!"

He stared at her beautiful, angelic face, committing everything in his memory.

"Stay with me." she murmured again, flicking her eyes to his face and wound every now and then.

His dry lips cracked into an agonized smile. He wanted to comfort her, tell her it's alright.

But he knew.

He'd always known.

From the very first time he pulled the trigger.

Nobody's coming to save the devil.

He stopped believing in God decades ago. But in these few moments of limbo, he realized that this- seeing her for the first and last time- was the cruelest punishment he could ever have.

He clutched her hand with his shaky ones, rallied the remaining power in his body and choked, "Mio Angelo."

And the darkness welcomed him, like the prodigal son that he was.

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5 years later.

Warsaw, Poland

-I'm so sorry. I'll come over tomorrow. I promise, B.

She received the reply a few seconds later:

-Girl, it's okay. I have my wine and a half naked Paul Wesley on tv. It's fine, I'm not thinking about whatishface.

She texted back, guilt shrouding her:

-Are you sure it's okay?

Again, she didn't wait a second for her response.

-I am! Go and kick their ass, Laura. x

The text elicited a smile from her. She shoved her phone in her bag and storms the elevator.

Furious was an understatement.

She's supposed to have dinner with one of her best friends tonight. But because David Sawicki can't do his job properly, she's stuck here for the next hour. She heard the echoes of her most prized heels on the floor tile. Her fists clenched beside her, her lips pursed in a straight line. She felt the anger emitting like, from her skin.

The employees on either side of her parted and flattened themselves on the walls. She made her way to the board room, avoiding anyone's judgmental gaze.

They don't know what happened. Let them look.

She reached the heavy wooden door of the conference room and pushed. There were only four people in the room.

"Good evening, Miss Biel." Oskar, the PR manager greeted. She returned his warm smile and sat on the empty swivel chair next to him.

James, the head of their security sat in the nearest chair by the door. Marissa, the senior head's secretary was eyeing up the bastard sitting across her. But Sawicki was ignoring her. He was ignoring everyone in the room, except her.

She met his belittling gaze.

"Have you packed your shit already, Miss Biel?"

She sneered back at him. "Shouldn't you be asking yourself that question?"

Before he could make a comeback, the doors opened and the senior head entered.

"Good evening." Hayden Marek addressed the room, his eyes glued on the stack of folder he's holding.

Without further ado, he took his seat at the center of the table. "Now, can anyone please explain to me what the hell happened yesterday-"

The room was quiet. Her eyes remained on Sawicki, challenging and unfaltering.

Marek raised his voice. "-And how the fuck did it happen?!"

Sawicki was quick to point fingers—as the child that he always has been. "Why should we ask Miss Biel? Excuse my language, but one needs to have balls to have this job."

The room turned to her.

"Miss Biel?"

"First of all, it's not my fault." She started, cool, calm, and collected.

"Listen, Ma'am-" Sawicki butted in.

"I haven't finished yet." She hissed at Sawicki. "As I was saying Mr. Marek, it's not my fault. I'm in charge of bookings and reservations. It has never been my job to temper rowdy customers."

She narrowed her eyes at Sawecki. "And I think you should explain to us, why in the entire building there are only two security guards in the building? I remember explicitly suggesting that we need more. Since the band is Beatles level famous. I remember telling you that at our briefing, Mr. Sawecki."

Beside her, she could feel her friend trying to hide his smile.

"I booked the band at our hotel on purpose. They're at the top of their game and we need the publicity. We gave them and their team the best rooms. We even closed down the bar and buffet room to give them their privacy. Me and my team went to them ourselves and asked for anything they might need. Even if it's not part of our job."

She continued, holding everyone's attention. "Everything was going smoothly, until a roadie got past security and caused a scene. One of the members got mad because we promised them privacy."

Sawicki was speechless. He knew the story himself, having happened before his eyes.

"The roadie sent messages, bragging how she got in. And before we knew it, a legion of slutty teenagers bombarded the lobby. The band barely got out. If it weren't for the efforts of my team. I dealt with the press and strategized a new approach so we wouldn't lose our loyal customers and patrons. I'm proud to say that we are now booked for the next four weekends." She slid the reports to Marek, whose eyes widened at the numbers at the bottom part of the paper.

Yes, keep the ugly, greedy man fat with money.

Marek averted his annoyance to Sawecki. "You, in my office. Right away." And he stood to leave, James and Marissa followed him.

She leaned forward, elbows flat on the table. "This is exactly you need balls for."

Sawecki glowered at her before turning his leave.

Oskar clapped a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Good job, girl." And he too left, leaving her alone in the big, cold conference room.

She gave him another amiable smile, hoping it'll ease the tension in her chest.

Unlike many, Oskar is different. She felt at ease with the old man. Oskar was probably her only friend in this building. Most of them either feared her or wished her out.

They were unsuccessful with that last part.

But she has to admit, she's tired of this. Men constantly disparaging her and her achievements.

Because of what? Her gender?

Unlike those dumbasses she met in med school, she presumed that men in the hospitality sector would be more... non-discriminatory. But no. All men appear to be the same sensitive, egotistical and easily threatened rats she experienced them to be.

Yes. Even her boyfriend fit the bill, sometimes.

Men always tell society that they need strong, intelligent, independent women. But what they really want were cheerleaders. Someone to boost and feed their ego.

She exhaled the deep breath she was holding.

Calm down, Laura.

To distract herself, she checked her phone for the very first time since lunch.

Still no messages from Martin.

"How surprising." she scoffed.

She has never been the clingy type, but a simple short text after a long day at work would ease her stress.

She and Martin had been dating for four years already.

He came up to her at a hotel event and made an actual fool of himself to get her attention. She thought it was cute. Two years into the relationship, she sold her apartment and moved in with him. One year of living together, he proposed. And to this day, she didn't know what came over her to say yes.

For the past few months, they've been having more arguments. His reason? She's spending way too much hours with her work and no time for him at all. And she felt guilty, because it's true.

Thus, she's been trying to redeem herself. She tried to come home early, prepare his food and do other stereotypical duties of a good fiancé. But still felt... insufficient. Like something was missing.

Olga was having none of it. She hated the man. Unlike Bianka, she has never warmed up to Martin, even after all theses years. "You fool, don't settle for that lazy, bald freak. You're not his maid. Let him wash his own smelly gartered underwear." and she added, for good measure,

"Passion is essential to every relationship, as important as love."

Olga was always the voice of reason- whenever she wanted to be,

But she loves Martin.

She felt passionate about him.

She loves him.

Right?

If that wasn't love, why did she buy their tickets to Sicily for her birthday weekend? Why did she booked those romantic getaways? Martin was pretty excited about it.

That's love.

"I love him." she convinced herself. "You love Martin, Laura. Stop overthinking it."

The door creaked open again and the maintenance guy went in, pushing his mop cart. The man stopped and apologized.

"Przepraszam, Miss Laura. I thought it's empty."

"No, no. It's fine. I was just leaving" She smiled and gather her things. "Have a good night."

"You too, miss."

The floor was now empty, except for the cleaners who waved in her direction. She waved back, sincere and friendly.

As she was about to press the elevator button, when Oskar called her from the doorway of his office.

"Laura?"

She turned. "Mmm?"

"Marek told me that he wants to meet with you tomorrow. His office at 4."

"What?" She couldn't help but the thrill in ringing in her voice. But she toned it down. "Why?"

Her friend jiggled his eyebrows at her. "I don't know. Marek called me to say that Sawecki no longer works here. The General Manager position is open."

Laura squealed and hugged the man. She has not been working her ass off for four years to settle for the beta position. She knew she deserved so much more than what they're already giving her.

"Thank you, thank you!"

"Hey, all you sweetheart." Oskar kissed both her cheeks. "As an early gift, I have my driver take you home."

"What, no-"

"No buts. Besides, I have a date. A very hot date."

"Oh! Where'd you meet him?" She teased.

"Now you know that I don't kiss and tell, Laura sweetie."

"Kinky! I love it."

"Now get your ass out of here, Conrad is already in the lobby."

"Thank you so much." She enveloped him another tight hug before hurrying down the elevator.

Her mind was still reeling from, the possibilities of her promotion. She went over her mental list of the changes she could make to the management. This was probably the best birthday present she's ever had in years.

As he promised, Oskar's driver was waiting for her. Conrad has always been shy around her. He was standing by the passenger door and opened it as she approached.

"Dziękuję Ci." She smiled.

The man turned pink and nodded.

She didn't need to tell him the directions since Oskar has offered to take her home countless of times. Most of those times were, when Martin forgets to pick her up.

It wasn't a long ride, only a good thirty minutes—including the traffic. She could take the cab, if they weren't too damn expensive this time of year. If the bus fumes wouldn't kill her, she would literally take the bus every single day.

She was in her third year of MED school when her grandmother fell ill and died. Due to debt and budget constrictions, she's forced to quit the one thing she cared about the most.

She loved medicine, she loved studying it. The lengthy explanations, crucial step by step procedures, the jargons appealed to her.

With the death of her grandmama and her quitting medicine, she had a relapse and fell into a mild depression.

That's when her body developed it.

She was out with Olga that day she first fainted. She thought it was only panic attacks but it became more frequent. She consulted her doctor and found out she has Supraventricular Tachycardia. In simpler terms, she has a heart palpitations. That meant that her heart was beating more than it normally should. Her condition causes her to, sometimes, pass out and hyperventilate. This prevented her from engaging in strenuous exercises, smoking, stressful situations and caffeine.

She hated it. Everyone who knew has treated her like she's something fragile, like, she'll break at the tiniest push. It was disconcerting. So, she decided to keep it a secret, that even her parents didn't know.

She had no plans to tell Martin because it might affect their relationship—which it did. He accidentally found out a few months after they moved in together.

She couldn't tell anyone at work, except of course, the HR manager. She couldn't let assholes like David Sawicki get the slightest indication that there's a chink within her armor.

The only persons who do know were her college best friends, Bianka and Olga, and her doctor.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Martin.

Finally.

Hey honey, I'm coming late from work. Don't wait up for me.

Wanting to prove to herself that what she felt for him was still valid, Laura smiled deviously. She glanced in the rear view mirror to make sure Conrad wasn't looking where wasn't supposed to.

She unbuttoned her blouse, down to the last three buttons. She recorded a video and captioned it with:

Aww. But they miss you.

When he didn't reply in the first three minutes, she sent him another. She hiked her skirt to her upper thighs, widened her thighs and snapped a picture.

I miss you.

She was feeling hot that she slid her fingers on her inner thighs. She kept her moans to herself.

She waited for his reply, but it didn't come. Not even when she reached their apartment.

The frustration was twisting her abdomen, evil and needy. Martin's coming off late ever since... she couldn't remember.

A few weeks ago, he's required to put extra hours for the insurance firm he's working for. It was a slap to her face; she's finally having a taste of her own medicine. But she didn't pressure him on it. Nor complain to him about it. She loved a hard-working man. Besides, that way, he could finally get off her back for doing the same.

But as a consequence, she's left… dry and unsatisfied. With only her toys and fingers for company.

She sighed and threw her bag on the hook, and shook her hair out of her bun.

She took a quick look around.

At least, he left the apartment clean before he left this morning.

Martin was the messiest person she knew. Seriously, how hard is it to throw your wet towel in the dryer? Or put the scissors back where he got it from?

The knot in her abdomen tightened and she bit her lip. She went to check on her phone.

Still nothing from Martin.

She called him, but it went straight to voicemail.

"Oh, fuck it."

She poured herself a glass of wine before going to their bedroom. Even though she's alone in the apartment, she closed the door as a form of habit.

Martin doesn't like it when she pleasured herself.

She pulled out her special drawer and grabbed the black toy hidden among her sweat pants. The sight of it alone made her insides clenched in excitement. She took s huge gulp of wine and began to undress herself.

Her fingers traced her curves, slowly. The pads of her thumbs brushed over her nipples. She let out the loud moan she's been holding in the car before she switched the vibrator on.

The buzzing filled her ears, making the fire in her belly burn even more. She grazed it over her bra. Her nipples erected in their lacey confine. She removesd the clasp of her bra, to her own slow pace, and shimmied out her drenched undies. She lay on the bed.

There were certain advantages of studying medicine. Aside from treating other people part, this was one of them.

Shew was gasping now. Her hand was rolling the toy over the sensitive spot. Just the right amount of roughness, if not, more. Something Martin could never do, no matter how many times she told him how.

Her moans rocked their stilled apartment. She arched her back as she pumped against her own palm, using her legs and feet to meet her strokes.

She bit the back of her hand as she felt the white heat dripping from her. Her back landed back on the mattress and she waited for her heart to slow down.

But she knew she could take more.

God.

She could take so much more.

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#365 dni #365 days #laura biel #massimo torricelli #Laura x Massimo #Massimo and Laura #michele morrone #anna maria sieklucka #Blanka Lipinska #365 days fanfic #365 dni fanfic