pairing(s): Patrizia Reggiani x fem!Reader.
notes: English isn't my first language so please tolerate any mistake. I hope you enjoy this!
Just to clarify, I love Gaga's portrayal of Patrizia Reggiani in House of Gucci. This work is purely fictional, and I do NOT condone Patrizia's actions in real life.
No, you didn't want to marry that man.
Your parents were rich. They had given you everything from the moment you were born until now. You knew you should be grateful, but you couldn't ignore the way they treated you like a toy in their hands. Everything they did came with expectations.
They wanted you to become something valuableβ a treasure to be handed off to an old man, sealing a contract between two powerful and wealthy families. As if they didn't already have more money than they could ever spend.
You let it happen. For your parents' sake.
But you had never wanted men.
You had known it since secondary school when girls your age would blush over boys. Your heart, however, had only ever ached for women. You never found the courage to tell your parents about your sexuality, because you knew they would deny it no matter how hard you tried to explain.
Now, your heart beat only for one womanβ Patrizia Reggiani.
After her divorce from Maurizio Gucci, she told you she wanted nothing more to do with the Gucci family. She had everything she wanted now.
And you fell for her in every way, not just for her beauty, but for the way she spoke, for her intelligence. People could easily fall under the spell of her words; they sounded so dangerously convincing.
You knew it was a double-edged sword.
But you couldn't stop yourself from falling anyway.
Your parents knew nothing about your relationship with Patrizia. Everytime you wanted to go out with her, the lies would settle on your tongue perfectly as if they had always belonged there. Of course, they were crafted with a little help from her.
She would drive you around in her red velvet leather car. Everything about her felt deliberate. She dressed exactly you imagined her toβ dresses, yes; suits, yes. Whatever she wore carried that unmistakable air of old money, effortless and expensive. You loved the scent of her perfume. It was classic, but powerful.
She bought for you so many things, as if you didn't already have everything waiting for you back home. And still, you let her spoil you.
Behind everything she showed the world, she was softβ at least with you.
You loved every second you spent together. The way she would slip her arms around you from behind while you cooked, then pressing a slow kiss to the nape of your neck.
You had to admit she was the best kisser you had ever known.
And you fell for her all over again, every single time.
She knew about your impending marriage to that man. Yet she remained calm, composed in a way that made something in your chest tighten. Something felt off.
"A man, huh?" She said lightly, placing a cigrarette betweem her lips.
"Yes, Patty. My parents really wants me to marry him." You lowered your eyes, unable to look at her.
She didn't respond. Instead, her fingers slipped into your hair, guiding it over your shoulder. There was something unreadable in her expression. Then, she pulled you down onto the mattress. Her lips met yours, fierce and comsuming, leaving no air for you to breathe. That night, you almost forgot your own name.
Two days from now you would be his bride.
But tonight, you were hers. Again
You lay in bed, her name on your tongue. Faint marks bloomed across your skinβ reminders of hers.
"Oh, Patty... more please."
And she always give you exactly what you wanted.
When everything finally cooled down, you were tucked perfectly in her arms. Your mind was still clouded with images of her and your orgasm.
You stiffened slightly, glancing at the screen.
"It's my parents," you sighed, clutching the phone in your hand.
Patrizia didn't move away. She traced a slow finger along your sensitive skin, as if the interruption meant nothing to her. She chuckcled, the sound sending a chill down your spine.
"You're not going to marry him."
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