#oc: giovanni vicino | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mrs-gucci · 4 years ago

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Wedding Bells [REPOST] {Maurizio Gucci x Reader}

author’s notes: hellooo! I originally wrote this story as an ‘x OC’ because that’s what I was writing at the time, but I decided to change it into an ‘x Reader’ story since that’s what more people like to read!

**I used a translation application for the Italian in this story. apologies if there are any typos and/or incorrect sentences/grammar. Italian sentences/words are in italics throughout the story with translations after the sentences in parenthesis.

**This is MY OWN INTERPRETATION of Maurizio Gucci’s character, as portrayed by Adam Driver in the upcoming film, House Of Gucci.

warnings: smut. fluff. maurizio calling reader “tesoro”™️. some wedding shit. light aftercare. grinding. creampie. implied consent. dirty talk, name-calling/degradation but in italian ;)

(possible) tw’s: infidelity/extramarital affair. brief mentions of tobacco use. implied age gap (reader is over 21, no more than 10 years difference).

SMUT under the CUT!

“Tesoro” means “Treasure” in Italian (an affectionate nickname)

You can’t believe this is really happening.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. You’re supposed to be the one in the white gown, the one set to marry Maurizio Gucci.

He insists that this overzealous ceremony is just for the press, that he’s not truly in love with her, but sometimes you see him looking at her and you lose faith.

You almost didn’t come today. You almost just stayed at the house and pretended that this never happened, but you know that even if this marriage is a sham, it’s still a big day for Maurizio.

And I can’t say no to him.

The crowd cheers as they kiss up at the altar, turning to face everyone in the church with big smiles on their faces. You clap softly, forcing a smile upon your face as they walk down the aisle together.

He looks so handsome in his suit, the striped pants and impeccably polished black leather loafers completing the look. Maurizio was always dressed to the nines, but today, he was dressed to the tens.

His eyes meet yours, and his face falls for a moment when he reads the underlying sadness etched in your outwardly happy expression.

Everyone starts piling out of the church and you go along with them, hopping into one of the cars to take everyone to the headquarters for the reception.

The car pulls up to the building a few minutes later, and you walk in, taking a deep breath.

You should just go home, Y/N. You went to the reception, and that’s enough.

You look around at the decorated walls, all the guests mingling happily, all here in support of Maurizio and Patrizia.

You’re here too, sure, but you feel oddly out of place standing amongst the other guests.

Perhaps it’s because you’re the only non-native guest here. Perhaps it’s because you’re not here in support of the couple.

You find my place at one of the front tables and of course, you’re sat facing Maurizio, practically head-on. Great.

The meal is served and the room goes essentially silent as everyone begins dining. You make some casual conversation with the people sitting around you, some of them your coworkers, but you can’t stop myself from looking over at the groom from time to time.

As night runs into early morning, you’ve found some solace in the champagne and the company of Giovanni, someone you’ve come to really like spending time with. You both have a lot in common and you get on great; you’re always joking around the office.

Each time you begin talking with Giovanni, however, you feel a particular set of eyes on you. And, when you look over, you’re met with the deep brown eyes of your lover.

You show him no reaction, simply smiling sweetly each time your eyes meet, as if you were simply boss and employee.

Soon, you feel utterly suffocated by the thick air of the room, so you decide to step outside for a short while. You hope to slip out unnoticed, and you do for a little bit, but then someone comes out behind you.

You don’t even need to turn around to see who it is, and the familiar sound of a lighter gives all the confirmation you needed.

Maurizio walks out and leans over the balcony, a thin cloud of smoke passing through his lips as he looks out onto the horizon.

“I…”

He begins, trailing off.

“Have you gotten a slice of cake yet? It’s quite good.”

You huff with a drop of humor.

“No, but maybe I’ll do that now, since this balcony is no longer exclusive to just me.”

As you turn around and begin to walk towards the door, his hand snatches your wrist and pulls you back. Your body collides with his, your back pressed against his front.

You can feel his smoky breath against your ear, and your skin erupts in goosebumps.

“Please, stay. I want to speak with you.”

There’s a brief moment where you truly believe that you’re going to say no this time, that you’re going to walk away.

But I can’t say no to him.

He feels you relax and lets go of your wrist, allowing you to return to the railing. He stands behind you, taking another drag.

“I guess I should begin by apologizing, for you having to sit through the ceremony.”

You take a sip of champagne.

“As far as anyone else is concerned, I’m simply your assistant.”

“Yes, but I know that you’re more, much more, than that. I can’t imagine that sitting there the whole time was easy. But, I want you to know that I appreciate you coming, it would’ve been weird not seeing you today.”

You look over your shoulder, up at him.

“You know I’ll always be here for you, Maurizio.”

He smiles down at you. “I promise that it won’t always be like this for us, tesoro. Things will change, and we will be able to show our love to the world.”

His hand runs down your arm gently, then falls to your hip, where he squeezes lightly.

“You look so beautiful tonight. I wish I could kiss you, touch you, worship you like you deserve.”

You blush, stepping back a bit, now fully pressed up against him. His breath catches in his throat as his hand comes forward and trails up, fingers teasing just below your breasts.

He leans forward, lips leaving a series of open-mouthed kisses on your neck.

“It’s been nearly impossible to stay away from you, mi tesoro. I just want to have you right here, right now…”

A whimper escapes your lips as his trail down to your shoulder.

“Potrei alzare il vestito e fotterti, climelo.” (I could just pull your dress up and fuck you, christ.)

He breathes, grinding his hips against you, growling lowly in your ear.

“Piegati sulla ringhiera, ti fa urlare il mio nome…” (Bend you over the railing, make you scream my name…)

You’re breathless as you try to resist the urge to let him take you right here.

But, you know you can’t, it’s way too risky. Someone’s bound to notice.

“Maurizio…”

You whisper.

“We can’t, not here.”

Something seems to switch in his brain and he freezes suddenly, almost as if he’s been snapped back into reality. He stands up straight again, breath shaky as he takes a final drag of his cigarette before putting it out in the ashtray.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away.”

He groans in frustration, running a hand through his hair.

You turn around, resting your hands on his chest, staring up into his eyes.

“It’s okay.”

“I need to have you tonight, tesoro, please.”

Maurizio says, resting his forehead on yours, lips mouthing at yours.

You sigh.

“How? There are people everywhere, it’s too risky.”

A smirk suddenly stretches across his face.

“No one will be in my office bathroom…”

You bite your lip, holding back a smile.

“Shall we meet in there?”

“I’ll have to sit with Patrizia for a little while, talk to some people, just to keep up appearances.”

He says, nodding.

“But, how about we meet there in...let’s say an hour?”

“Saro li l’accordo.” (I’ll be there.)

You say, smiling up at him.

He returns the expression.

“Allora ci vediamo.” (See you then.)

One Excruciatingly Long Hour Later

You quietly step into Maurizio’s office, gasping when a pair of arms wraps around your waist, pulling you into the office. You look up and see him, immediately jumping into his arms, crashing your lips together.

He carries you into the hidden bathroom, closing the door quickly behind him. His gaze is hungry as his darkened eyes rake up and down your dress-clad figure.

“Bend over.”

He growls, head nodding towards the marble vanity.

You bend yourself over, resting on your elbows. There isn’t much time before someone notices Maurizio’s missing, and you can tell he knows this as well, a sense of urgency in his fingers as he undoes his belt and pants.

You look at his reflection in the mirror, the sight of him in his wedding suit incredibly arousing, a certain sense of promiscuity surrounding us. Even more so than usual.

Maurizio quickly bends down and pulls the dress up over your hips, moving your panties to the side before rubbing his tip through your wetness.

“We’ll have to be quick.”

He says, looking at you through the mirror’s reflection.

You nod, and he lines himself up with your entrance, chin resting on your shoulder as he pushes in, sighing loudly.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, his cock stretching you out deliciously. You whimper as he pulls back and thrusts back in, your body jolting with his forward motion.

“Tesoro.”

He moans into your ear, picking up the rhythm of his hips.

“You’re so pretty.”

“O-Oh, Maurizio.”

You whimper, walls clenching around him.

One of his hands comes up from your hip and wraps around your throat, fingers shaking your jaw slightly.

“Guardati, tesoro, guardati ti scopa allo specchio.” (Look at you, treasure, watch yourself get fucked in the mirror.)

Your eyes go wide when you look at the reflection, seeing Maurizio positioned behind you, hips jackhammering into you. His glasses are steaming up slightly and his brow is furrowed, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.

Our eyes meet in the mirror and we moan together, the sight so erotic.

“Per favore, fottimi di piu!” (Please, fuck me harder!)

You say, pushing your hips back against him.

“Sono cosi vicino!” (I’m so close!)

A low growl rumbles through his chest and his back arches as he pounds you harder, turning his head so that his lips are right at your ear, breathing heavy.

“Si, tu sborra per me? Vuoi guardarti su tutto il mio uccello?” (Yeah, are you going to cum for me? Are you going to watch yourself cum all over my cock?)

You bite down hard on your lip, trying to hold back the loud noises threatening to spill from your lips.

“M-Muh...M-Maurizio!”

You cry out, hips jerking as you spill your release all over his cock.

“Ah, oh fuck!”

He’s close, too, now.

“Sto per sborra! Oh Dio, ti riempiro io!” (I’m going to cum! Oh God, I’m going to fill you up!)

“Fallo, ti prego! Lo voglio tantissimo!” (Do it, please! I want it so badly!)

His eyes go wide for a moment as his hips stop, pressed deeply inside of you. He cums with a long, low moan, hips rutting as he rides out his high.

“Prendila, prendila dentro di te...” (Take it, take it all inside of you…)

You fall forward onto the cool marble, body limp for a minute after your climax. Maurizio stays buried deep inside of you until he regains control of his breath, pulling his now-limp length from you, quickly tucking it back into his wedding pants.

He helps you pull your dress back down and straighten yourself out.

You gasp when he spins you around and crashes his lips onto yours, holding you against him. Your lips meld together perfectly, your hands gently tugging on his hair.

You two pull away moments later, panting softly.

Maurizio looks sad as he reaches down to hold your hands.

“You’re amazing, beautiful, you’re perfection.”

He kisses your knuckles, which makes you smile.

“Ci vediamo presto, tesoro mio.” (I will see you soon, my treasure)

You nod, lip quivering slightly when the reality hits. He’ll be gone for two weeks on his honeymoon.

You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him close, allowing a single tear to fall down your cheek.

“I’ll miss you while you’re away.”

He buries his face into your neck.

“I will call you at some point, I promise.”

Suddenly, there’s a knock at the office door. It’s Giovanni.

“Maurizio, ci sei?” (Maurizio, are you in there?)