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carrionbeast · 3 years

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Part 1 of my @daredevilexchange Daredevil + Defender Exchange Piece for @hehearse! Part 2

Also available on Ao3 once the collection is revealed! Prompt used: talking about lost opportunities, lost chances

Image IDs are on Ao3, separately in chapter 2 and also under the cut!

[Image description: 6 images containing 11 Daredevil fan comic pages and 1 cover

Cover:

Daredevil is written in the bright red, tilted lettering of the classic logo. In the upper left corner is a box with a black outline, split in two. The top half is a red box with white lettering, reading DDE, mimicking the marvel logo should be and under it, in a white box, is the number 1 in black lettering. Under these two boxes is the name of the author and artist, Neon Brutalism.

The cover features a large empty hourglass, tilted towards the upper left of the page. Trapped in the bottom of the hourglass, we see Daredevil and Foggy. The glass is too small for the both of them and they’re tangled in each other’s limbs. Matt’s sitting with his knees bent, uncomfortably on his tailbone. The toes of Matt’s boots are pressed up to the glass and his hands are pushing up against it above him and to his side, the red fabric of the gloves lighter where it’s tight against the curved glass. He’s blushing under his mask, tilting his head away from Foggy. Foggy, dressed in a suit with bow tie, with his legs up in the air, has one hand between Matt’s boots and one above his head, against the glass. The bottoms of Foggy’s shoes are up against the glass, right leg across Matt’s lap and his left leg behind Matt’s back. Foggy is also looking away from Matt and blushing deeply.

At the bottom of the page, the title, “The Glass of Sand and Fog” is written in white lettering with a thick black outline. /end image description]

[Image Description: Interior cover:

No art but text in the center that reads:

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of Marvel. The original characters and plot are the property of the creator of this story. The author and artist is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

In the lower left corner of the page, more text, that reads:

“For Heherse, Daredevil and Defenders Exchange 2021” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 1

Panel 1 - Inside a warehouse. The moon glows through the warehouse’s glass-block windows, casting a sharp light on the room. The camera is pointed up at the villain, a thin, short-haired man, half-hidden in shadow. His right eye is obscured by a large monocle and he has a triumphant expression on his face. He is standing on top of a giant clock with a large battle-axe replacing the hour-hand. The axe-hand is pointing to the number twelve in roman numerals. The man is dressed in high-waisted riding pants with suspenders and an old fashioned button-up shirt. In his left hand, he holds a staff with a small hourglass on the top.

The Villain: “Don’t worry, Mr. Nelson! You still have one more hour for Daredevil to come save your miserable life! But beware, the Axe of Time may be the end of you both!”

A speech balloon coming from below the panel’s edge.

Off Camera Voice: “What the hell is the axe of time?”

Panel 2 - The camera pulls out to reveal the full shape of the clock. It stands solitary on a short platform in an empty warehouse. The villain leans over the clock to glare downwards with an offended expression.

Sitting on the platform, positioned at the 6 on the clock, under the axe, is Foggy. He’s wearing a bowtie and a slightly rumpled suit. His hair is parted in the center and slightly messy. His hands are bound together at the wrist and his feet at the ankles but he does not seem very distressed.

The Villain: “Well, not all of us can afford the giant hourglass needed for a sands of time trap.”

Foggy: “It’s just really thematically confusing.”

Panel 3 - Medium zoom in on the villain. The camera right side of his face is hidden in shadow and his grin is toothy and threatening.

The Villain: “You should be more worried about your dear friend Daredevil -”

Panel 4 - Same zoom. The villain is confused and raises a single eyebrow.

The Villain: “Wait. Friend? Associate? Client? I’m unclear on the nature of your relationship.”

Panel 5 - Medium zoom in on Foggy’s face. He rests his chin on his bound-together hands and stares forward in resignation.

Foggy: “Yeah, you and me both.” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 2

Panel 1 - Pulling back into the shadows a little, the villain grins, still gripping his staff.

The Villain: “Well, no matter…”

Panel 2 - The shadows behind the villain have shifted into the silhouette of a figure with horns. Enormous, bright red eyes glare ominously forward into the camera.

The Villain: “Once your companion shows up to save you, he’ll meet his grisly-”

Panel 3 - The villain’s speech balloon continues into the next panel but his sentence is cut off as the shadows materialize into Daredevil. Daredevil punches the villain in the face, fist flying towards the camera. We see the villain’s full face at last as his monocle goes sailing off his face and out into the gutters between the panels.

The Villain makes a distressed noise.

Panel 4 - A bird’s eye view down at the floor from the top of the clock. We can see Daredevil’s boots standing on the top of the clock. The villain lies unconscious on the floor, his monocle next to him, cracked and his staff out of reach.. Still sitting on the platform is Foggy, who looks up at the camera with a fond expression.

Foggy: “My hero.”

Panel 5 - Camera at ground level, Foggy watches as Daredevil jumps towards the ground. Daredevil: “I’m guessing this was a me-related kidnapping?”

Panel 6 - The camera is over Foggy’s shoulder. Daredevil is facing away from Foggy as he unties Foggy’s hands. His expression is regretful and apologetic and the far-side of his face is slightly cast in shadow.

Foggy: Well…

Daredevil: Sorry... /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 3

Panel 1 - Daredevil sits on his knees as he unties the ropes around Foggy’s ankles. He’s still regretful. Foggy reaches over to pat Daredevil on the shoulder with a comforting expression.

Foggy: “Really, don’t get pouty. This guy wasn’t exactly threatening.”

Panel 2 - Daredevil and Foggy are both standing now. Foggy is holding the remnants of the rope in his hand and examining it with a dubious expression. Behind him, Daredevil looks confused.

Foggy: “He didn’t even tie me to the clock.”

Daredevil: “That’s a clock?”

Panel 3 - Far zoom out at ground level. Foggy and Daredevil walk away from the camera towards the double-doors of the warehouse. Light from the street casts a shadow behind them as they move towards the light.

Daredevil: “Why’s there an axe on it?”

Foggy: “His theme is inconsistent.”

Daredevil: “Hm.”

Panel 4 - Pull back and reveal the outside of the warehouse, a square brick building with a low, flat roof. The full moon hangs low in the sky. The streets around them are empty and a bright streetlamp casts the warehouse area in light, reflecting off the power lines and windows of the warehouse. Daredevil climbs a rickety ladder next to the warehouse door, leading up to the warehouse roof as Foggy stands on the ground and watches him climb.

Daredevil: ”To be honest, I think time is scary enough without a giant axe clock.”

Panel 5 - Foggy grins up at Daredevil as he climbs up the ladder towards the camera.

Foggy: “What, worried about getting old? Daredeviling getting hard on your knees?”

Daredevil: “No, no…”

Panel 6 - As Daredevil’s boots retreat out of the top of the panel, Foggy starts to climb up after Daredevil.

Daredevil: “It’s hard to explain.”

Panel 7 - At the top of the warehouse. The roof access door visible over h’s shoulder, Daredevil is standing on the flat roof and reaching over the ledge to pull Foggy the remaining distance up the ladder.

Daredevil: “Maybe it’s the idea of stuff slipping away, missing chances, that sort of thing.”

Foggy: “Let’s not talk about slipping when you’re pulling me up a rusty ladder?” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 4 -

Panel 1 - The New York City skyline lights up the horizon as Daredevil and Foggy sit on the ground of the roof, their backs to the ledge wall surrounding it. Daredevil hugs his knees and Foggy has one leg stretched out and one bent slightly, more relaxed. Foggy looks at Daredevil.

Foggy: “So, what slipped away from you?”

Panel 2 - From behind, Daredevil pulls his cowl up and off, revealing Matt’s hair. It’s static-y and wild from being under the cowl.

Matt: “Oh…”

Panel 3 - Matt grips his knuckles and faces down, blushing brightly as Foggy, with a determined expression, runs his fingers through Matt’s hair trying to smooth it down.

Matt: “Just… Stuff.”

Panel 4 - Matt in profile, gently wincing. The blush has receded and Foggy is smiling at him.

Foggy: “Oh. like how I still wish I had tried out for the Hell’s Kitchen community theater production of The Scarlet Pimpernel?”

Matt: “Ha, kind of.”

Panel 5 - Meta panel, borderless with a white background. Cartoon-y versions of Matt and Foggy pop up from the edge of the lower panel’s border, standing next to an elaborate image of Foggy dressed in a French Revolution era military outfit, reminiscent of Norm Lewis’s from the 2006 revival. Cartoon Foggy is looking at the version of himself in costume thoughtfully, cartoon Matt has his arms crossed and is nodding.

Foggy: “Well, it’s not too late. They’re doing Les Mis in the fall. What do you think, should I try out for Fog Valfog or Fog-vert?”

Matt: “Oh, Fog-vert, one hundred percent.”

Panel 6 - Tight on Matt, his face is half-hidden in shadow. He’s smiling slightly but is more sad than anything else.

Matt: “I think I’m too late for what I’m thinking about, though.”

Panel 7 - Panning over to Foggy, who is reaching for Matt’s shoulder.

Foggy: “Oh, come on, Matty, don’t be so broody.”

Panel 8 - Tight on the lower half of Matt’s face and his shoulder, where Foggy’s hand is resting. Matt is blushing again. In the background, Foggy is prattling on about something unclear but Matt isn’t paying attention.

Panel 9 - Matt in profile, his head cast down and shadows cover the top half of his face. He’s hesitant to explain.

Matt: “Foggy I - …” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 5 -

Panel 1 - Pull out to see Matt facing the camera and Foggy next to him. Matt isn’t facing Foggy and is still blushing. Foggy’s excited and has taken his hand off Matt’s shoulder.

Matt: “... Do you want a ride home?”

Foggy: “Oh hell yes, I do!”

Panel 2 - The lights of the New York buildings around them blur as Matt swings through the city on his billy club, Foggy’s arms tight around his neck.

Panel 3 - Foggy’s apartment, small amongst the New York skyscrapers. Scattered lights are on in the windows of the buildings, but Foggy’s apartment is dark.

Foggy: “So, uhhh…”

Panel 4 - Inside Foggy’s apartment, the lights are off. Matt stands stiffly with his arms crossed in the corner, next to the window, staying in the shadows. Foggy, in the foreground, is pulling off his dress shirt, revealing his undershirt. His belt is unbuckled and hanging loosely. He’s not looking at Matt.

Foggy: "... So you think Javert? Its a good role. I'm - I mean, I'm not sure I can carry it but ..."

Panel 5 - Matt’s blushing bright red under his mask again and he points outside, leaning towards the window, slightly panicked. Foggy’s a little disappointed.

Matt: “I - um, sorry. I need to go. Because - I … Crime.”

Foggy: “Oh, sure, no proble-”

Matt: “Bye.”

Panel 6 - Foggy frowns as a red blur leaps out the window.

Panel 7 - Cut to a bright day. Foggy, wearing a dress shirt with vest and tie, is sitting at a restaurant table across from Kirsten, who is wearing a blouse and slacks. The table has a glass of water and an uneaten burger and fries in front of Foggy and fried shrimp and salad in front of Kirsten Foggy has his eyes closed and arms crossed, frowning. Kirsten is leaning back, resting her left arm on the back of the chair and holding her drink casually in her right hand.

Foggy: “And that is the longest I’ve seen him in two weeks.” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 6

Panel 1 - A restaurant patio on a New York street during the day. Foggy buries his face in his hands.

Foggy: "I had the perfect opportunity there. He was talking about - things he wished he'd done. UGH- Kirsten, why did I have to keep talking about musicals?"

Panel 2 - Close on Kirsten. She smirks and rolls her eyes.

Kirsten: “Hm, changing the subject to avoid being honest about something? Sounds like you've been hanging around Matt plenty to me.”

Panel 3 - Foggy holds a french fry and scowls at Kirsten while she takes a sip of her water through the straw.

Foggy: “Hilarious. I'm pretty sure he knows how I feel anyway.”

Panel 4: Foggy, chewing, rests his cheek in his hand and looks away from Kirsten, pouting.

Foggy: “He turned red and panic-jumped out the window before I could finish talking about Javert."

Panel 5 - Pull out to a bird’s eye view. A graffitied truck rumbles by the patio as Foggy takes a bite of his hamburger. Kirsten has put her drink down.

Kirsten: "Well, is that better or worse than an actual rejection?"

Panel 6 - Foggy is glaring down at his burger as he chews, annoyed.

Foggy: "At least an actual rejection has catharsis. Avoiding me is just him being a selfish dick." /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 7

Panel 1 - The camera shifts slightly, pointing up from under the table, revealing the restaurant name behind Foggy and Kirsten; The Dog Track, and in the corner of the sign, the disclaimer “No longer associated with the New York Gaming Commission”. Kirsten is keeping her face carefully neutral as Foggy’s expression is more irritated.

Kirsten: “That’s a little uncharitable.”

Foggy: "Just because I'm in love with him doesn't mean I don't know what he's LIKE."

Panel 2 - Kirsten tilts her head and holds a fried shrimp on a fork in her right hand.

Kirsten: "And you can't just skip all the drama, pick up your phone and call him right now because...?"

Panel 3 - Tight on Foggy, who isn’t meeting Kirsten’s eye and is blushing.

Foggy: "It's ... complicated!"

Panel 4 - Pull out on Kirsten and Foggy. Kirsten is grinning and Foggy is hunched over, eating his hamburger and looking annoyed and embarrassed.

Kirsten: "You know you're about 15 years late for this high school shit, right?"

Foggy: “You’re 15 years too late.” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 8 -

Panel 1 - Another warehouse at night, large shadows cast around the room.There’s no moon lighting the windows tonight. An enormous hourglass stands on the dirty floor, a few old crates are up against the wall and some of the pipes nearby are leaking water out onto the floor. There’s a human figure in shadow within the top section of the hourglass and another one on the floor, pacing. All the sand within the hourglass is in the bottom section.

Shadowed Figure in the Hourglass: “So did you get a grant or what?”

Shadowed figure on the floor: “Silence.”

Panel 2 - Foggy, of course, is the one trapped inside the hourglass. He’s annoyed but sitting comfortably like he’s in a hammock. He throws his hands up, gesturing to the hourglass around him.

Foggy: “It's just this is kind of a big budget upgrade from two week ago! I thought you spent all your money on that tranquilizer you hit me with.”

Panel 3 - Foggy frowns, skeptically and taps the glass with a finger.

SFX: Tink-tink

Panel 4 - Close on the villain, still cast in shadow. His monocle has a crack down the middle and he is wearing a waistcoat over a dress shirt and he’s furious. The hourglass is visible behind him and as Foggy pulls his cell phone from his pocket, watches the villain from within the hourglass.

Foggy: "... You know I need to be in the bottom part of this, right?"

Villain: “I know how an hourglass works.”

Panel 5 - Over Foggy’s shoulder, within the hourglass, we see his phone. There’s a series of unreadable text messages sent to and from a devil emoji, but the latest one, sent from Foggy, simply reads “Halp”.

Foggy: “Touchy, touchy…” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 9 - 5 panels.

Panel 1 - Foggy is still reading his phone, more or less bored with the villain’s theatrics and waiting for a return text.

Foggy: “So, what, you forgot you needed a way to flip it over?”

Panel 2 - The villain crosses his arms and glares up at Foggy, offended.

Villain: “I’m sorry, do I come into your place of business and tell you how to do your job?”

Panel 3 - The camera faces Foggy within the hourglass. He throws his hands up in frustration, still gripping his phone.

Foggy: “Sorry, this is an even less deadly death trap than the first one!”

Panel 4 - Super tight shot on the villain’s eyes. The cracks in his monocle gleam and his visible eye makes him look deranged with the rest of his face in shadow.

Villain: “I am perfectly content to just push the hourglass into the river, Mr. Nelson, and let Daredevil find your bloated corpse when it washes up."

Panel 5 - Foggy smirks, looking profoundly unintimidated and reading his phone.

Foggy: “I’d be more intimidated if I thought you could afford to replace it.” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 10 - 6 panels.

Panel 1 and 2 - The villain furiously points up at Foggy.

Villain: “I will have you know Mr. Nelson, I”

The villain is suddenly cut off when a red billy club flies in from the left side of the panel, hitting him in the side of the head. His monocle goes flying and the villain himself drops like a sack of bricks.

Panel 3 - Daredevil in silhouette jumps down and lands gracefully on the silhouette of the hourglass with Foggy inside.

Foggy: “You know I don't think this guy thought this supervillain thing through.”

Panel 4 - Foggy looks up and watches as Daredevil perches on the edge of the hourglass and pushes it open at a hidden hinge. He faces down at Foggy.

Daredevil: “I don’t think any of them do.”

Panel 5 - Free of the hourglass, Foggy stands in the background next to the exit of the warehouse, one hand on his hip and the other rubbing the back of his neck. He eyes Daredevil as Daredevil scowls, fastening ropes around the villain’s hands.

Foggy: “So, we haven't really had a chance to talk at the office lately…”

Daredevil: “Well, we’ve been really busy.”

Panel 6 - Daredevil faces the exit, his face hidden and looking away from Foggy, who stands in the foreground.

Foggy: “I, uh, do need to talk to you about something -”

Daredevil: “Sure - yeah, sure, just uh….” /end image description]

[Image Description: Page 11 - 6 panels.

Panel 1 - A red blur as Matt takes off, leaving Foggy in silhouette behind him.

Panel 2 - Matt’s office, during the day. Matt is sitting in a leather chair behind his desk. He is wearing a suit and tie and his eyes are hidden behind his rectangular, red sunglasses.. Kirsten is there, sitting on the edge of Matt’s desk, half-turning to look at him as they talk, she’s wearing a pair of high-waisted slacks and a flowy blouse. Matt’s office is tidy, with a long filing cabinet in the corner with a braille printer on top. His desk is clean aside from his braille reader, hooked up to his closed laptop and a mug next to him. Other buildings are visible in the window behind him. Kirsten’s expression is slightly skeptical and Matt is wincing, embarrassed.

Kirsten: “So you left a devil-shaped dustcloud.”

Matt: “Look, I’m not proud of it.”

Panel 3 - Matt leans back in his chair, smiling weakly.

Matt: “I just need some time. I’ve been actively pushing this down for years, it just… comes back up sometimes.”

Panel 4 - Kirsten is skeptical and Matt smiles grimly. Behind Kirsten, we see Matt’s office door which reads Murdock (in reversed letters).

Kirsten: “And that’s why you’re hiding in your office.”

Matt: “And that’s why I’m hiding in my office.”

Panel 5 - Zoom in on Matt. He’s half-smiling, but clearly sad.

Matt: “I just… I know he won’t be a dick about it. But it’ll make him uncomfortable and I …”

Panel 6: Matt slouches all the way down in his chair, the office around him having vanished into a white void and leaving him alone to sulk.

Matt: “I’ve put him through enough.” /end Image description]

#daredevil #mattfoggy #fan comic #long post #daredevilexchange #matt murdock #foggy nelson

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mrs-gucci · 3 years

Text

Gucci’s Girl [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. grinding. multiple orgasms. pretty vanilla sex.

(possible) tw’s: infidelity (he’s engaged, not married).

SMUT under the CUT!

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

“Y/N, will you stay after for a bit?”

Mr. Gucci walks over to your desk.

“I need to ask you something.”

You nod, smiling up at your boss.

“Of course, Mr. Gucci.”

Inside, you were panicking.

He’s never asked you to stay after work before, except on your first day, which made sense. But this doesn’t make sense…

He returns the smile.

“Excellent. Just come to my office.”

You continue to work, faxing and typing away until the clock read five.

Everyone else begins to pack up and bids you farewell as you make your way up to Mr. Gucci’s office.

The wooden door has never looked more intimidating than it does in this moment, as you raise your knuckles and knock.

“Entra in.” (Come in.)

You take a deep breath before you turn the handle, forcing a smile on your face.

He looks so scary and intimidating when he sits at his desk, a fact that, when you told him, made him laugh.

“Ah, yes, Y/N. Come in, sit down.”

The chairs in his office are top-of-the-line, a refreshing change from the less-than luxurious chairs out on the floor.

Mr. Gucci lights a cigarette and takes a drag before standing up and walking around to take a seat in the chair next to you.

When he sees your confused expression, he laughs softly, taking another drag.

“I know you think I look scary sitting back there, and I don’t want you to be scared of me.”

Your eyes go wide.

“O-Oh, that’s not what I meant—“

“I know, tesoro.”

He chuckles, eyes flickering over your face before he speaks again.

“So, the annual House of Gucci Ball is coming up, as you know.”

You nod.

“And, I was wondering...would you want to...come with me?”

Your stomach drops.

“W-What?”

The CEO looks incredibly flustered and anxious, a new look for him.

“My fiancée isn’t feeling well and as the head of the House, I really don’t want to go alone…”

In a bold move, you reach out and gently place your hand over his. He looks up at you, and you smile.

“I’d, uhh, I’d love to go, sir. It would be my pleasure.”

“Great.”

The corners of his lips tug up into a genuine smile and his eyes dart away from yours as he takes another drag.

“I’ll have the company tailor come in tomorrow and take your measurements for a gown. And you’ll come here three hours beforehand in order to have hair and makeup done.”

You’re still partially in shock as he discusses dresses and makeup and hair.

It’s become clear to you over the past few weeks that he has feelings for you, and you think they’re the same feelings that you have for him.

But obviously, neither of you can act on them, no matter how badly you wish you could. He’s set to be married in a few months, and there’s a very strict company policy that forbids relationships between workers and their supervisors.

So, it left this unresolved tension between the two of you, and you literally just agreed to spend an entire night at an event with him.

The reality hits and you feel lightheaded.

Oh my god, I’m going to the company ball with Maurizio Gucci.

Four Weeks Later

The elevator dings and you step out into the now-vacant office. You see several people standing around a portable salon setup, and they all turn to look at you.

“Miss Y/N?”

One of them asks.

You nod.

“Si.” (Yes.)

They quickly sit you down in the chair and begin applying makeup and doing your hair.

You’re tearing up a little bit as you look at yourself in the mirror. Clad in a long, form-fitting gown and in full hair and makeup, you look and feel like a princess.

The stylist hands you a small accent clutch and almost immediately after, the elevator dings, and Mr. Gucci steps out, clad in a snappy black suit, not unlike what he wears at work everyday.

That man is never not in a suit, you’ve learned.

His eyes go wide as you step down from the small platform. Your cheeks warm under his intense gaze.

The stylist looks nervous as his eyes roam your figure.

She speaks up a moment later, voice meek.

“Il vestito e il trucco soddisfano i suoi standard, signore?” (Does the dress and makeup meet your standards, sir?)

He tears his eyes away from you, and nods at the stylist.

“Ha superato le mie aspettative.” (It’s exceeded my expectations.)

You’re blushing madly now, unable to meet his eyes as you feel him looking at you again.

Soon, the stylist packs up and leaves just you and Mr. Gucci alone.

He clears his throat, breaking the silence.

“You look...beautiful, absolutely beautiful, tesoro.”

You bite your lip as you look up at him, absolutely starstruck by his handsomeness. He somehow manages to look better and more attractive every time you see him.

“You’re too sweet, sir.”

He takes your hand, kissing your knuckles.

“Please, I’m Maurizio tonight.”

You nod, trying his name on your tongue.

“Maurizio.”

Mr. Gucci smiles as he releases your hand. “We have a few minutes before the car gets here...would you like some water? Espresso?”

“I’m alright, but thank you.” You say.

A few moments of sexually-charged silence lingers between you two.

“Thank you for agreeing to join me tonight.”

He says suddenly.

“I always enjoy our time together, Y/N.”

You smile.

“Me too.”

“Really? You do?”

Maurizio blushes slightly.

“It’s just...I’m an old man, you’re a young woman...”

You chuckle as you reach out to hold his hand.

“You’re not old, sir—Maurizio. And yes, really, I do enjoy our time together.”

“I’m glad.”

He says, eyes flicking down to your lips as he leans in a little bit.

Wait...what? Is he gonna… Fuck, oh god, this can’t happen...

Honk!

He flinches at the sound, standing up straight and clearing his throat.

“I guess the car is here.”

You chuckle nervously as he holds out his hand, and you take it, walking alongside him to the elevator.

It’s a short drive to the hotel and when you two arrive, there are swarms of paparazzi, all crowding around the car when the driver pulls to the curb.

Maurizio clearly sees your overwhelmed expression and tension, reaching over to squeeze your hand.

“Don’t worry, tesoro. Just stay by my side and don’t answer any of their questions, yes?”

You nod and he gets out, walking around to open your door and help you out of the car. Immediately, when the press sees that you’re not his fiancée, the cameras flash even more rapidly and voices overlap one another.

“Sei la nuova fidanzata di Maurizio?” (Are you Maurizio’s new girlfriend?)

“Maurizio, dov’e la tua fidanzata?” (Maurizio, where’s your fiancée?)

“Strumento a mano.” (Gold digger.)

“Puttana americana.” (American whore.)

They were all basically on top of you, asking so many questions and saying so many things about you, it was incredibly overwhelming.

Suddenly, Maurizio’s voice boomed through the crowd, and everyone fell silent.

“Lasciala in pace!” (Leave her alone!)

His arm wraps tighter around your waist, pressing you even further into his side as he walks you both into the building. The cameras and crowds were almost completely silent, still, and you were just trying to process it all as the two of you walked into the event, you still tucked into his side.

He stopped just inside the door and let you go, taking your hands instead, eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“Are you okay, tesoro? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

You shake your head, still trembling a little bit.

“N-No, I’m okay, just a little shaken up.”

“They’re vicious and relentless...mi dispiace. I should’ve warned you about them beforehand, but I’m relieved that you’re okay.” (I’m sorry)

“It’s okay, Maurizio, really.”

You smile sadly.

“Thank you for helping me.”

He wraps an arm around you again, gently squeezing your hip before rubbing it lightly.

“Of course, anything for mi tesoro. I’m indebted to you for joining me tonight.”

You’re blushing, eyes darting away from his.

“Oh no, that’s not necessary. It’s an honor to accompany you, and I’m sorry that my presence caused so much trouble for you, with the press.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

He smiles, eyes lingering on you for a moment before guiding you into the massive ballroom.

You’re absolutely stunned by the beauty of it, the chandeliers glittering on the ceiling as they illuminate the entire room.

Maurizio seems to notice your staring, and pauses as well, chuckling softly.

“It’s very pretty, isn’t it?”

You turn to him and nod, smiling.

“It’s beautiful.”

Once you get inside and take your seats, Maurizio is immediately flocked with people wanting to speak with him. Some of them give you a judgemental glance or gaze, and you just look away, taking another sip of your wine.

This is gonna be a long night.

Naturally, Maurizio has been talking to people nonstop all night, which was expected of course, but for some reason, you’d sort of hoped he’d make some time for just the two of you. You genuinely enjoy his company, he’s actually really kind and funny when he’s not in ‘work mode’.

Why would he do that for you? You’re just his replacement date, Y/N, nothing more.

So, you sit back in your chair and casually nibble at the new dinner course that was put on your plates a few minutes ago.

A dance song begins to play and suddenly, Maurizio stands up and holds his hand out for you.

“Would you like to dance, mi tesoro?”

“Absolutely.”

You blush, biting your lip as you stand up.

He places his hand on the small of your back as you two walk onto the floor. You wrap your arms around his neck while he places his hands on your waist, holding you close as the two of you begin gently swaying to the slow tune.

“It’s nice to step away from the table for a bit.”

He says, chuckling.

“I only see these people once a year, so they always want to talk the night away.”

You laugh.

“I understand, and I’m happy that I could provide an excuse for you to get away, even if only for a few minutes.”

“You’re anything but an excuse, Y/N.”

Maurizio says, blushing a bit.

“I’ve been wanting to make some time to spend with you, but I haven’t gotten the opportunity. I’m sorry for that, this must be tedious for you.”

You shake your head.

“No, it’s alright, although I do respect your fiancée much more now that I understand what happens at events like this.”

You jest, and he laughs.

“But, in all seriousness, I’m fine. You shouldn’t feel any obligation to keep me entertained, I understand my role for tonight.”

His face sinks ever so slightly, but he still smiles nonetheless.

“I did hope to spend some time with you, though. Like I said, I enjoy spending time with you.”

The song suddenly ends and a much more upbeat one takes its place.

Maurizio’s face seems to light up, and he smiles widely.

“Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”

You’re suddenly lifted up and spun around. You laugh the entire time and he continues spinning you.

The whole world seems to fade and suddenly, it’s just you two on the dancefloor.

Your eyes are glued on one another as he sets you back down, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile so genuinely. You briefly wonder how many of these moments he gets to have with his job.

You’re still laughing as he takes your hand and tries to twirl you around. He’s laughing along with you as you start to twirl, but you forgot how long your dress is, and you start to fall backwards.

A strong arm reaches down and scoops you up before you can hit the floor, and suddenly, you’re centimeters away from his face, his breath tickling your skin.

He’s still smiling as he slowly stands back up with you in his arms.

“Be careful, tesoro. We’re not taking any trips to the emergency room tonight, okay?”

You smile, unable to bring yourself to take your eyes off of him as you’re placed back onto your feet, his arm still around you, holding you close.

You allow yourself, for the first time since your internship began, to take in all of his features. You let your eyes drink in his beauty and it feels like time has stopped. He’s even more handsome up-close, his pale skin a stark contrast to his dark eyes and the freckles sprinkled across his features.

Before you know it, he leans forward and rests his forehead on yours, his lips so close now.

“Voglio davvero baciarti, tesoro.” (I really want to kiss you right now, treasure.)

He whispers.

His voice is so deep, yet soft and full of yearning. It sends a chill down your spine.

“Non ti fermero, bello.” (I’m not going to stop you, handsome.)

“Bene.” (Good.)

He leans forward the rest of the way and your lips connect in a tender embrace.

You close your eyes and let your hand reach up to cradle the side of his face.

He soon pulls away, a face-splitting grin on his face.

You’re wearing a similar expression.

“Mi chiedevo quando l’avresti finalmente fatto.” (I was wondering when you were finally going to do that.)

You giggle, nuzzling your nose against his slightly.

Maurizio laughs softly.

“Mi chiedevo quando avrei dovuto farlo anch’io.” (I was wondering when I was going to do it, as well.)

The moment is quickly ruined when you realize exactly where you are, and you’re afraid to know how many people saw that. You quickly stand up straight and so does he, both of you taking a small step away from each other as you straighten yourselves out.

When you turn back towards the table, all of the people stare right at you, and you feel your face get hot. You look up at Maurizio when he comes up beside you.

“I think I’ll just catch a cab back to the house…”

You say, looking down.

He looks over at the table, seeing his work colleagues giving you judgemental glares. His finger gently lifts your chin until you’re looking up at him again.

“Let me take you back, tesoro. It’s the least I can do, and we can talk about...everything.”

You nod.

“I’m really sorry about this…”

Maurizio shakes his head.

“No, tesoro, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have done that in such a public space.”

Your cheeks get warmer.

“Are you saying that you still would’ve done it?”

His cheeks go pink as he looks away.

“Yes, I still would’ve kissed you, Y/N.”

Is this real?

He clears his throat, placing a hand on the small of your back.

“Why don’t you go up to the front while I retrieve our stuff from the table? I’ll make sure that no one says anything or thinks poorly of you.”

“Thank you.”

You say, smiling.

“I’ll get them to call us a cab.”

He’s at the table for about five minutes while you wait by the door, anxious for what’s to come.

“Sorry, mi tesoro, they tried to tell me that I shouldn’t leave early. But, I insisted on seeing you safely back to your house.”

“If you need to stay…”

You begin, but are quickly stopped.

“No, I’m going with you.”

You’re so flattered that he would leave the biggest company party of the year just for you. You.

The cab arrives shortly after and you two walk out into the warm Italian night air, hopping into the car. His hand rests gently on your thigh as the car pulls away from the curb.

He sighs.

“I’m sorry that I got you involved in this. My life is...complicated, especially as someone constantly under the public eye.”

You don’t even want to ask this next question, but you have to.

“Maurizio, are you still engaged?”

His head turns away to look out the window.

“I’m not sure.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean, you aren’t sure? It’s a yes or no question.”

“Patrizia left me last night and she hasn’t come back.”

He says, choking up a bit.

You gently put your hand over his and he looks over at you.

“I’m really sorry, that’s...terrible. Did she say why?”

“I told her that I was taking you tonight, and she got upset.”

He sighed.

“She asked me if I had feelings for you, since I talk to her about you almost every day…”

“You talk about me?”

Maurizio smiles softly, nodding. “Of course I do. Ever since you’ve been here, the office has been...happier. I’ve been happier.”

You take a deep breath, trying not to freak out over what you’re hearing.

“S-So, when she asked you if you had feelings for me...what did you tell her?”

He turns fully to the side, bringing a hand up to cup your face.

“Le ho detto la verita, che mi sono sentito per te sin dal primo giorno in cui sei entrato in ufficio.” (I told her the truth, that I’ve felt for you since the first day you walked into the office.)

You can’t help but smile as your face warms again, eyes darting away from his as he continues.

“Sono un uomo migliore con te nella mia vita, tesoro.” (I’m a better man with you in my life, treasure.)

“Maurizio, I…”

You begin, trying to find the right words.

“Lo so che non dovrei, ma mi sento anche per te.” (I know I shouldn’t, but I feel for you, too.)

He smiles, leaning in closer.

“Qual e la ragione dell-amore senza rischi?” (What is the point of love without risk?)

This time, you close the gap between your lips. His other hand comes to hold your face as you kiss, so much passion and want in every movement of your lips together.

You move closer, legs draping over his lap.

Just as you make a move to sit on his lap, the cab pulls up to your house, forcing you apart.

Both of you are panting softly, eyes staring deep into each other’s.

“Tesoro, ti prego, faccio l’amore stasera.” (Treasure, please, let me make love to you tonight.)

He leans in and crashes your lips together again, this kiss filled with urgency, with lust, with need.

You nod, biting your lip.

“Ti voglio. Ho bisogno di te, per favore.” (I want you. I need you, please.)

Maurizio smiles, paying the driver before quickly hopping out of the car, rushing around to let you out. As soon as you step out, you’re swept up off your feet and carried bridal-style to the front door. You unlock the door and he quickly closes it with his foot.

You reach up and begin planting kisses on his neck, enjoying the way he sighs softly.

“Which one is yours?”

He asks, breathily.

“Upstairs, the loft.”

He makes his way up the small flight of stairs.

“Is anyone else here?”

You nod. “They’re all on the first floor.”

Maurizio hums, gently placing you down on the bed before shedding his suit coat, hanging it on your desk chair, followed by his tie. He takes off his loafers and socks, placing them beneath his other clothes.

You’d barely gotten your heels off at the point. He laughs when he turns around and sees you struggling to get the shoes off. He quickly pulls it off and tosses it on the floor, holding your foot while he kisses your ankle and calf.

He takes a moment to look at you laid back on the bed, once neatly done hair loosened, makeup a bit smudged. His lips pulled up into a smile, teeth playfully scraping at your ankle bone.

“You have too much on, mi tesoro.”

You smile, standing up and turning away from him, silently asking him to unbutton and unzip your dress. He steps up behind you, breaths hot on your neck as his fingers work the buttons.

His lips begin planting kisses on your shoulders, soon undoing the zipper, freeing you from the dress. You step out and stand before him in just your underwear, looking away as his eyes rake over your figure.

Your cheeks grow hotter when you look down to see the tent growing in his dress pants.

“Etereale.” (Ethereal.)

He mutters, fingers working the buttons of his shirt, gently tossing it with his other clothes before working at the buckle on his belt.

“Formidabile.” (Gorgeous.)

The leather belt was soon tossed onto the growing pile of clothing. He unbuttons his pants before stepping forward again, now almost right up against you.

His hand wraps around your wrist and brings your palm to the tent in his pants, growling softly when it touches. He leaned forward, lips at your ear.

“For you, tesoro. All for you.”

You shudder as his lips plant kisses all over your neck while his hands roam your bare body, fingers teasing your breasts.

“You’re so sensitive.”

He breathes, hands squeezing your breasts gently.

“When was the last time someone touched you like this, hm?”

“It’s been a w-while.”

You say, gasping when his thumb rolls over your pebbled nipple.

“O-Oh…”

Maurizio grins, placing one more kiss on your neck before standing up straight, tugging his pants and boxers down. You watch in amazement when his length bobs as it’s exposed, mouth watering at the sight.

He smirks. “Do you see something you like?”

“Absolutely.”

You reply, biting your lip.

He laughs softly.

“Well...would you like to touch it?”

His cheeks flush pink.

You nod, reaching to wrap your hand around the base. His eyes flutter shut at your touch, and he sucks in a breath when you begin stroking.

“Mmmmm, davvero buono.” (so good.)

His head falls back when you increase your pace, hips gently rutting forward. His eyebrows knit in the center of his forehead, small moans escaping his lips.

Suddenly, he pulls away, letting out a shaky breath as his length stirs at the loss of contact.

“You are too good at that, mi tesoro.”

He bites his lip, fingertips teasing the lace waistband of your panties.

“May I touch you now?”

You nod, jumping softly when he all but tears the material down your legs, exposing your folds. He reaches down and cups your center, eyes widening when he feels how wet you are.

“Oh,”

He whispers, fingers tracing up to rub your clit.

“Tesoro...you’re so excited already, and I haven’t even touched you.”

Your hips suddenly buck forward out of instinct, and Maurizio chuckles breathily, rubbing a bit faster. You gasp, breath catching in your throat.

“S-Shit.”

You allow yourself to get lost in the pleasure, head falling forward onto his chest. The small noises falling from your lips get increasingly louder as you draw closer and closer to release.

His fingers suddenly push up into you, and you almost cum right on the spot. His digits feel so much better than yours as they begin plunging in and out, scissoring occasionally.

“Lasciatemi prendere, tesoro, e ti acchiappero.” (Let go for me, treasure, and I will catch you.)

He whispers breathily, stroking faster.

“Andiamo.” (Let go.)

His fingers curl up inside of you, and after a few rubs on your g-spot, you’re coming with a soft cry.

“Maurizio...oh mio dio…” (Maurizio...oh my god…)

Your knees buckle and you begin to fall, but he catches you immediately, smiling down at you as his fingers continue to work you through your climax. He leans over to kiss you again, slowly and gently pulling his fingers out.

“Lay back, mi tesoro, and open your legs.”

He whispers against your lips, standing back up straight as you sit down on the edge of the bed before laying back.

You spread my legs, ready to receive him, and he smiles as he climbs on top of you. He’s still wearing his glasses, and while you find that humorous and quite frankly cute, it’s also incredibly arousing for some reason. You don’t dwell on it, wanting to focus on the moment unfolding before your eyes.

Maurizio strokes his hardened length a few times, grunting softly, before rubbing himself across your folds. His eyes shut and he takes a shaky breath as your slick spreads across his cock. He starts pressing and rubbing the tip against your clit for a bit, smirking when your hips buck up against him.

He looks down at you, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Are you ready? I’ll go slow for you, tesoro.”

You nod and he pushes in slowly, growling softly. He shivers, stopping when he’s about halfway in.

“Is it still okay?”

Your legs wrap around his waist, pushing his hips forward while you scoot closer, pushing him in the rest of the way.

“D-Does that answer your question?”

You chuckle.

He laughs breathily, nodding.

“Indeed, it does.”

You take deep breaths while you adjust to his size, soon nodding, letting him know that it’s okay for him to move. He pulls about halfway out before pushing back in again, exhaling loudly as he establishes a rhythm of slow, deep thrusts.

“O-Oh, cazzo, sei fantastico.” (Oh, fuck, you feel amazing.)

Your jaw hangs open, body bouncing with each of his inward thrusts. You hold onto his biceps for dear life as his pace increases ever so slightly.

“Maurizio,”

You breathe, looking up into his eyes.

“Keep going, please.”

The bed squeaks as his hips’ movements grow more desperate.

“Tesoro, I--cazzo--I’m not going to last.” (fuck)

He says, eyebrows knitted on his forehead.

“I h-haven’t done this--merda--in a w-while.” (shit)

You nod in understanding, moving your hands up to cup the sides of his face.

“It’s okay, M-Maurizio, it’s alright.”

His eyes meet yours as he growls softly, shaking his head.

“No, it’s n-not. You deserve better, t-the best, Y/N.”

Your thumb swipes on his cheekbone as his eyes tear up with a mixture of pleasure and frustration.

“Y-You already are the best, bello, and I w-want you to cum, no m-matter if I have o-or not. I want you to p-pleasure yourself, okay? Don’t worry about m-me.” (handsome)

He smiles softly, falling onto his elbows, lips connecting with yours as he thrusts get harder. He grunts deeply with each thrust, breath hot and heavy on the side of your neck.

“Oh tesoro, I’m...close. Where…”

He searches for the right words, mind clouded with lust. He groans in frustration.

“Dove vuoi che sborra?” (Where do you want me to cum?)

You tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently.

“Sono sulla pillola. Puoi sborra dentro, se vuoi, bello.” (I’m on the pill. You can cum inside, if you want, handsome.)

These words seem to awaken something in him, his eyes going black, hips suddenly rutting quickly and desperately into you.

“Cazzo, sei incredibile, sei perfetto, tesoro.” (Fuck, you’re amazing, you’re perfect, treasure.)

Maurizio buries his face into the crook of your neck as he reaches climax, moans and gasps muffled by your skin. He buries his cock deep inside of you, painting your walls with his release, rutting them desperately as he fills you up.

“Y/N, oh dio, prendi tutto per me. Bene, sei bravissima, mi tesoro.” (Y/N, oh god, take it all for me. Good, you’re so good, my treasure).

As soon as he finishes, his hand reaches down to rub your clit in circles, eyes meeting yours.

“C’mon, let me pleasure you now. Let go, tesoro, give yourself to me.”

Your back arches and your hips grind against his fingers, mouth full of whimpers, whines, and gasps as his fingers rub you. You grab onto his bicep when you cum, looking up into his eyes.

“Yes, oh Maurizio, yes!”

You gasp, moaning softly as your release spreads throughout your body.

He continues to rub you through it, cock twitching slightly where it still sits inside of you, causing him to growl softly.

After both of you take a moment to catch your breaths, he slowly pulls out, and you can see that he’s already hard again. He blushes, looking away for a moment.

“I...I’m sorry, that’s never happened before…”

You chuckle, shaking your head.

“Maurizio, you don’t need to apologize. It’s actually sort of flattering, that I can do that to you.”

He smiles softly, laying down next to you, pulling you back against him. You didn’t realize exactly how hard he actually was until you felt him pressed against your back, and you felt bad.

“Do you…I mean, I can...”

You trail off, a bit embarrassed, hoping he got the point.

Maurizio immediately shakes his head.

“No, tesoro, don’t worry. I will be okay.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip before you speak.

“If you wanted to, you could...rub it against me.”

You feel his member twitch at your proposition, and you turn around in his arms, looking up at him. His cheeks are bright red.

“Will you show me?”

He asks quietly.

You smile, nodding.

“All you have to do is start moving your hips against me, using my skin to rub on.”

He experimentally rolls his hips, jaw clenched as he tries to contain himself.

“O-Oh.”

He tried it again, growling as his cock dragged along your stomach.

“Tesoro, it’s…”

You can’t pretend that this isn’t incredibly arousing for you to watch and feel. His tip was already red and leaking, so you knew he wasn’t going to last very long.

“Does it feel good, Maurizio?”

You feel him nod, hips moving faster now as he looks down at you.

“Yes, cristo, it’s s-so good.” (christ)

His lips crash onto yours and he loops an arm behind you, holding you still as he begins rutting against you, growling into your mouth. He moves his head down to kiss and nip at your neck.

“Your s-skin is so soft, mi tesoro.”

He whispers, grunting with each forward motion now.

His leg lifts up and lays over your hip, allowing him to thrust harder, hand still on your lower back. He’s close, you can tell, and you attentively watch the way his face contorts as he reaches orgasm.

He suddenly hugs you tight, a choked sob against your neck as his seed spills all over your stomach and his.

“Ah! Ah--oh--cristo!” (christ)

You run your hands through his hair soothingly as he comes down, trembling slightly. He slides down your body a bit, resting his head between your breasts, kissing them gently.

After a short while, he looks up at you.

“Grazie, Y/N, grazie mille.” (Thank you, Y/N, thank you so much.)

You smile.

“You don’t have to thank me, Maurizio, it was my pleasure.”

He reaches up and connects your lips in a tender yet passionate kiss before he pulls away, cringing when he feels the stickiness between you.

“I’m sorry, fuck, I’ve never...that’s never…”

You kiss him again, cutting him off.

“No worries, we can just clean it off. I’ll get a wet washcloth.”

You stand and come back a moment later with a wet washcloth, reaching down to wipe yourself off before Maurizio’s hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you.

“Let me.”

He smiles, taking the cloth from your hand, cleaning up the sticky substance before doing the same to himself.

Your cheeks are warm as you look up at him.

“Thank you.”

“No problem, mi tesoro.”

He suddenly looks away, frowning softly.

“I-I can’t stay tonight, Y/N, I’m sorry. If someone catches us…”

You shake your head, holding the side of his face.

“No, no need to explain. I understand.”

Maurizio nods silently, sighing as he begins to redress. You slip your panties back on, along with an oversized t-shirt and you pull your hair up into a ponytail.

When he’s ready, you offer to go first, in case anyone’s still awake. He agrees, and you make your way down the stairs, looking around, not seeing anyone. You look up the stairs and nod, indicating that it’s okay. He makes his way down and you walk with him to the door.

“Do you have a car coming?”

He nods. “My driver is already outside.”

There’s a moment of silence before Maurizio suddenly grabs your hips, pulling you against him as his lips crash down onto yours, the kiss desperate and full of longing. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him down closer.

He pulls away slowly, eyes fluttering open.

“Alla prossima, tesoro.” (Until next time, my treasure.)

You smile, biting your lip as he sneaks out the door, rushing down and hopping into the car waiting for him.

As you watch his car pull away from the curb, only one thought occupies your mind:

Holy shit, I just slept with Maurizio Gucci.

#adamdriverwriter #adam driver #adam driver character #adam driver smut #adam driver fluff #maurizio gucci #maurizio gucci smut #maurizio gucci fluff #maurizio gucci x reader #maurizio gucci x you #maurizio gucci x reader smut #maurizio gucci x reader fluff #tw: infidelity #house of gucci

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the-starryknight · 3 years

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Happy Tuesday! Last week, I asked you all to share your recs and help lift each other up, and you sure did. With over 100+ recs, I'm astonished and honored by this wonderful fandom. In the spirit of this, I've created three reclists based on your suggestions.

As usual, mind the tags + warnings, as I have not yet had the pleasure of reading so many of these wonderful pieces.

Two More Try-Something Rec Lists: "1k To Enjoy (1k-10k)" | "Long Fic Galore" Check out @yours-drarry, @drarryboosterclub, and @phd-mama's "May We Lift Each Other Up Challenge" for even more positivity 💛

Key: ✨ = rarepair, 💙 blue = published before 2021

Podfic

Constellation Prize (Drarry) by @andithiel, read by KristinaBird { 2021 | M | 1:15 }

Harry’s been pining for his friend and Auror partner for almost a year. But despite what his friends say, he and Draco aren't an old married couple...Draco has a boyfriend, there's no way he'd ever be interested. Right?

Art

Seeker’s Games (Drarry) by @chuckalart { 2021 }

@babooshkart's Instagram (@/babooshk.art)

Writers to Watch:

💙 @ladderofyears’s Microfic Collection (Drarry)

💙 Phrynne’s Ao3 (Drarry)

IHaveSomeIdeaWhatImDoingHere’s Ao3 (Drarry, Wolfstar) @ihavesomeideawhatimdoinghere

Some Fic Recs:

@crazybutgood’s Art Rec Tag

💙 @gameofdrarry’s Go Squid Drarry Recs

@sitp-recs’ HP WLW Rec List

50-500 Word Fics

Burn Bright (Drarry) by @skeptiquewrites { 2021 | 50 }

Harry doesn’t like to think about anyone finding out he knows where Draco is.

Soap, spells and skirmishes (Drarry) by @the-starryknight { 2021 | 50 }

In the ring, they pulled no punches, spitting bitter spells across the arena.

Language Challenge (Drarry) by @skeptiquewrites { 2021 | 50 }

Mi o mọ nkan ti mo le ṣe emi ṣe lati gbadun ari me. // I don’t know what I’ve done to be content.

Waste it on Me (Drarry) by @onbeinganangel { 2021 | 50 }

“See ya, Malfoy.”

Better Than Fighting (Drarry) by @iero0 and @ladderofyears { 2021 | 100 }

Harry still isn’t home...

Quicksand (Drarry) by @sky-is-torn { 2021 | 100 }

“Wait, wait,” Draco mumbles, and the words fall in the space between their lips like a wall.

Punctuation (Drarry) by @americanmoths { 2021 | 111 }

Harry doesn’t think in words the way Draco does. He thinks in symbols and feelings, images and flashes of insight too large for language.

Better Than Fighting (Drarry) by @graymatters { 2021 | 117 }

You knew better. Underneath his fiery temper, he did, too.

Only a Fix (Drarry) by @wheezykat { 2021 | E | 152 }

Draco indulges in a forbidden fantasy - one that Harry is unaware of.

Sunset (Drarry) by @fw00shy { 2021 | 154 }

The days stretch longer in summer… sweat-stained by ten and still damned bright when Harry clocks out at six.

Hats Off (Drarry) by @peachpety { 2021 | T | 192 }

Harry and Draco shop for records, and a hat plays matchmaker.

Anniversary (Drarry) by @sweet-s0rr0w { 2021 | 192 }

… We speak the names of the fallen …

Liminal (Drarry) by @wheezykat { 2021 | T | 192 }

Draco's two worlds collide.

Paper Cranes (Drarry) by @avenueofesc { 2021 | T | 192 } MCD

He remembered the day the first origami crane descended in front of him as if it were yesterday.

Rapt over the Deep, Impelled by Love (Drarry) by @kryptidfoxwrites { 2021 | T | 192 }

They lay on a pile of soft pelts, and Draco feels warmer in Harry’s arms than he thinks he should, naked under an enchanted sky in a kingdom of caverns.

Sweat Equity (Drarry) by @jackvbriefs { 2021 | G | 193 }

Before building their home, the ground must be blessed.

Blush (Drarry) by @floydig { 2021 | 226 }

It was so goddamn hot out, Harry wanted to rip his clothes off and burn away. But this was Vernon’s funeral, and that would be inappropriate.

Luna (Drarry) by @graymatters { 2021 | 234 }

“Tell me about him.” Draco sears the words into Harry’s chest and nips at the paper-thin skin of his hip bone…

Road Trip (Drarry) by @xanthippe74 { 2021 | 271 }

“I think we should go on a road trip…”

💙 Irreedeemer (Drarry) by @jackvbriefs { 2020 | T | 334 }

That night, and most of them since, Draco takes Harry to bed piece by piece, a ritual unveiling, a mapping of skin by hands and mouth. AKA the one where Draco plays violin.

💙 Sometimes, You Remember (Drarry) by @erebeus-roxy { 2020 | M | 339 }

In the dead of the night, in the dead's domain, sometimes you remember a past aflame.

Desiderium (Drarry) by @Andithiel { 2021 | M | 444 }

It’s funny how you can regret something and still keep wanting it so badly.

500-1000 Word Fics

💙 Growing (Drarry) by @primavera-cerezos { 2020 | T | 548 }

After the war, Draco learned to work with his hands.

Unzipped (Drarry) by @avenueofesc { 2021 | 554 }

Harry Apparated into the alley with a pop.

Dangerous (Drarry) by @dracothecupcake { 2021 | 619 }

The docks on Sedna are coated in nameless yellowed dust. It billows out around the Phoenix when he lands...

devil like me (Drarry) by @wheezykat { 2021 | T | 712 }

Draco deserves what he gets. But Potter shows up at his trial, and it's not what he expects.

The Morning (Drarry) by @lou-isfake { 2021 | T | 713 }

What was it about Harry in the mornings, that made Draco absolutely lose his mind?

✨💙 Brilliant (Pansmione) by @lqtraintracks { 2017 | M | 850 }

Lots of people get that Hermione is brilliant, but finally someone comes along that gets that she's exceptional.

Semiplume (Drarry) by @tackytigerfic { 2021 | T | 923 }

Draco finds out he's part-Veela and wonders what it will mean for his son. Meanwhile Harry eats crisps.

✨ night (Deamus) by @onbeinganangel { 2021 | E | 999 }

Dean had convinced himself Seamus was the one that got away. Things were hard, after the War, and people went their own ways. He did not expect to bump into Seamus at a bar in Hamburg, three years after they’d said their goodbyes.

#drarry #deamus #pansmione #fic rec #try something tuesday #tlc tuesday #drarryboosterclub #may we lift each other up

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racebox-of-higgars · 3 years

Text

Worth It - Les Mis SPFC

Here’s my entry for the Les Mis Single Prompt fic challenge! This was my first time writing for Les Mis so it was a lot of fun!

Prompt: Person a gently tilts person b’s head up

Pairing: Enjolras x Grantaire

Word Count: 2576

Summary: Grantaire takes care of Enjolras after a fight

Warnings: Mild injury description

Grantaire glanced over at his clock, the harsh red letters slowly blinking at him in the black, almost as if they were mocking him. 2:46am. He rolled over, desperately trying to fall asleep, but something kept it from him, it’s elusive arms just out of his reach. A sense of unease had settled in his stomach hours ago, and it kept him tossing and turning, feeling sick to his core. He couldn’t tell what it was, and chose to ignore it, yet it incessantly crawled its way back into the corners of his mind, demanding his attention. It was an unwelcome presence, tugging constantly at his thoughts, and he couldn’t ignore it.

Finally, he gave up. Sleep was going to elude him for the rest of the night, there was no point in fighting that. Instead, he turned his attention to the unsettled feeling that sunk deep within him, right down into his bones. Something was deeply wrong, he knew that much, but the question was what was wrong? What was wrong and how could he make this stupid feeling go away? It wasn’t like him to be so set in a feeling like this, usually he could just shrug it off and ignore it, but this one couldn’t be shaken, no matter how hard he tried.

The ceiling swirled above him, slowly coming back into focus through the darkness as he stared up at it, lying starfished on his back. He started up at it for what seemed like hours, puzzling over the unease that shook him from the gentle embrace of sleep every time it was within reach. It only felt like hours though, when in reality it only lasted a few minutes. Again, glanced at the clock, frowning when it only read 2:57am. He groaned, flopping back against his pillow, throwing his forearm over his eyes. He was in for a long night.

Each flash of the clock out of the corner of his eyes saw the feeling of unease settling deeper and deeper into his stomach, until it was almost unbearable. It ate away at the edges of his mind, until it consumed his every thought, completely taking over. Eventually, it became so powerful that he couldn’t stay in bed any longer. He hauled himself out, slowly shuffling to the kitchen, bleary-eyed as he felt around in the darkness for a mug, and he poured himself a coffee. Coffee at nearly 3am probably wasn’t the best idea, but he wasn’t going to be sleeping anytime soon anyway, so what did it matter?

A knock at the door shook him from his thoughts. Right. Who the fuck was at his door at 3am? Whoever it was, could kindly fuck off thank you very mu- oh.

“‘M’sorry,” Enjolras murmured, swaying where he stood. “Didn’t know where else to go.” Carefully, Grantaire ushered him inside, glancing down the hallway outside his apartment before shutting the door behind them. He flicked on the lights, blinking against the sudden brightness. He couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him as he took in Enjolras’ appearance.

Blood slowly dripped from his nose and his lip was cut open and bleeding. An array of purples, yellows, greens, blacks and blues mottled his porcelain skin and one of his eyes was swollen shut. A deep cut across his temple spilled blood into his hair, the crimson a stark contrast against the shining gold, that now sparkled with what appeared to be fragments of glass. He swayed steadily from side to side and his eyes were hazy and unfocused. He looked nothing like Enjolras, usually so put together and calm. This was what was wrong.

Grantaire made his way over to Enjolras, gently taking his chin in one hand and tilting his head up to meet his eyes.

“Who did this to you?” He whispered. To an outsider, he would appear calm, collected, but there was an underlying anger underneath, indescribably discreet but also fundamentally out of character for Grantaire. He wasn’t an angry person. Blaisé and flippant, sure. Confrontational and hungry for an argument, but there was never any malice to it. It had always been a game, but not now. Now, he almost trembled with the white hot rage that coursed through his veins. He wanted to find out who did this to Enjolras and find them, hurt them, but that wasn’t what Enjolras needed from him right now. Enjolras needed him there.

“Some guy at a bar,” Enjolras said, voice hoarse. Grantaire pulled out a chair and helped Enjolras to sit. He looked dead on his feet, like he might have collapsed if Grantaire had left him any longer. Grantaire nodded, more to himself than Enjolras. A bar fight? That wasn’t like Enjolras at all. Enjolras would debate until he was red in the face and his throat completely closed up and he couldn’t speak anymore, but things never got physical with him. He would always de-escalate the situation before it reached that point. So what had been different about this time?

“So, what happened?” Grantaire asked, carefully wiping the blood from the side of Enjolras’ face with a damp washcloth. Enjolras hissed at the contact and instinctively flinched away, but relaxed into it after a moment.

“Some guy was being an ass in a bar, I called him out, he threw the first hit.” Grantaire frowned.

“What was he saying?” “Doesn’t matter, does it?” Grantaire fell quiet at that. Enjolras rarely kept things concealed, so if he was avoiding this, he must really not want to speak about it.

“Alright.”

Grantaire worked in silence, gently wiping the blood from Enjolras’ face. His hand trembled slightly with the anger that rushed just beneath his skin, but that was to be released another time. He forced it down, he didn’t need it. Not now. When he was done removing the worst of the blood, he held ice over the bruises, hoping to at least ease the pain of them. Enjolras stared up at him, much more focused now than when he had arrived, and Grantaire had a hard time avoiding his steely gaze.

“Why did you come here?” He eventually asked as he dressed the wound in Enjolras' temple. “Why not ‘Ferre? He’s a doctor, surely he would be better than me.” Enjolras’ eyes flitted around the room, almost as if he was searching for the answer somewhere there.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “I guess I just- would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you?” Grantaire’s breath hitched in his throat.

“Probably not,” he said with a laugh, and even Enjolras smiled at that.

“It’s true though, R. I just wanted to see you.” Grantaire nodded, almost afraid that if he tried to speak it would just come out as some wildly unattractive squeak. He couldn’t help but think that there was something else, another reason why Enjolras had chosen him of all people to come to for help, but he wouldn’t press for that now, not while Enjolras was in this state. That could wait until later.

“I’m done,” Grantaire said finally, when all of Enjolras’ injuries were clean and dressed to the best of his ability. “You’ll have to shower to get the last of the blood out of your hair, but it’s not as much anymore.”

“Thank you,” Enjolras said quietly. “I’ll call a cab-” “No,” Grantaire immediately cut him off. “Stay here, I’ll sleep on the couch.” “Are you sure?”

“Of course, I don’t want you going home alone like this. It’s okay.”

“I don’t have any clothes.”

“Borrow mine, one second.” Grantaire stood and left Enjolras sitting at the dining table, only slightly bewildered. Grantaire flitted around the apartment like a whirlwind until he found a hoodie and sweatpants that would fit Enjolras.

“Here,” Grantaire said, handing Enjolras the clothes. They smelled like Grantaire. That was the first thing Enjolras registered. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly that was, but it was distinctly and unmistakably him. It was comforting. “You can change in the bathroom.” Enjolras nodded, and made his way down the hall, significantly less unsteady then he had been before.

While Enjolras was gone, Grantaire made himself busy, tidying away his first aid kit, running a glass of water, and putting the kettle on. Enjolras didn’t have sugar in his tea - milk and honey, instead. He also threw a blanket in the dryer. Anything to keep himself busy. That way he didn’t have to face his anger. Someone had hurt Enjolras, and it made his blood boil.

Enjolras had always been a peaceful person, quick-witted and silver-tongued, able to talk himself out of any situation. His words always slipped from his lips, able to pacify any situation. His words were one of the most beautiful things about him. They had so much power and intent behind them, and they could build you up, place you on a pedestal at the top of the world, or tear you down until you’re nothing more than a rat in the gutter. They were honey-coated or sharp as a knife, and whichever he chose could impact you for hours, days after they had been spoken. Ever the diplomat, Enjolras hated violence. He always talked his way out of situations, using those beautiful words to avoid any fight. So what had changed this time? That’s what Grantaire kept coming back to. Why couldn’t Enjolras talk his way out of this one?

Grantaire’s clothes were too big on Enjolras. They hung off his body, almost like a blanket, but they were warm and comfy and they smelled like home. He wrapped the hoodie tightly around himself, closing his eyes for a moment as he sat down on the edge of the bathtub, head in his hands. His head pounded, a dull, throbbing ache just behind his eyes that would not go away. It had been worth it though.

Okay, so maybe he had lied to Grantaire when he had said the other guy had thrown the first punch. And about why. How bad was a little white lie, really? Right, it was probably very stupid, but how was he supposed to tell Grantaire that he had punched someone in the jaw because they had been talking shit about R? That wasn’t something he was just going to admit, because that would open up the floodgates to a million other discussions that he didn’t want to have. There would be hundreds of questions with answers that he just couldn’t articulate. Enjolras was way out of his depth when it came to Grantaire, and the way he felt about him. He could talk his way through any situation, except this one, because there were no right words for it. So instead, he stayed silent for what might be the first time in his life, because he and Grantaire were a million worlds apart, really. Sure, he had shown him kindness on this one occasion, but it wasn’t like Enjolras had given him much of a choice. Within a week they would be back at each other’s throats, surely. That’s just how they worked. But for now, wrapped up in Grantaire’s hoodie, he could pretend that maybe things were different.

Grantaire looked up from the mug of tea as he heard Enjolras padding back down the hallway.

“I made tea,” he said, holding up the mug. “Also I have water and painkillers if you want them too.” Enjolras nodded with a grateful smile as he took the painkillers, then took the mug of tea from Grantaire.

“You remembered how I have it?” He asked.

“Of course I do,” Grantaire answered with a warm smile. He had memorised everything that Enjolras liked, from how he had his tea to his favourite clothing brand. All of it was stored away in some corner of his mind, until he needed it in times like these.

They drank their tea in silence. After a while, Enjolras’ eyelids began to droop. Grantaire took the blankets out of the dryer, folding them neatly in his arms.

“Come on, it’s late,” he said. Enjolras just nodded vaguely as Grantaire helped him to his feet and led him down the hallway to his room. “I’m sorry it’s a mess, I wasn’t expecting anyone.” “It’s okay,” Enjolras mumbled. Grantaire helped him into bed, tucking the blanket around his shoulders.

“Get some sleep, you’ll need it.” Enjolras hummed, nestling further into the blankets. “Goodnight Enjolras.” Grantaire turned to try to get some sleep on the couch, when Enjolras’ voice made him turn.

“R?”

“Yeah?” “Stay, please?” Grantaire faltered for a moment, glancing between Enjolras, then down the hallway, then back at Enjolras. Carefully, he clambered into the bed beside Enjolras, and immediately Enjolras wrapped his arms tightly around him. “Do you mind?” Enjolras asked, looking up at him.

“No, it’s fine.” Enjolras nodded again, resting his head on Grantaire’s chest.

Silence stretched for a million miles between them, and Grantaire was just beginning to think Enjolras had fallen asleep, when he spoke.

“I lied,” he said simply, barely above a whisper.

“About what?”

“The fight. How it started. Who started it?” Grantaire looked down at Enjolras, brow furrowed in concern.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I started the fight. I threw the first punch.” Enjolras didn’t look at Grantaire, but Grantaire felt his grip on him tighten just slightly. Grantaire was perplexed. That was so out of character for Enjolras. It felt wrong.

“Why?” He asked simply.

“He was- he said some really homophobic and downright cruel things about you. I couldn’t let that slide.” Enjolras’ heart rate quickened. This was verging on dangerous territory.

“But now you’re hurt.”

“I wasn’t just going to let him say that about you!” Enjolras cried, suddenly sitting up, despite the way it made his head reel.

“Why not? People say it all the time, it’s nothing new.” Enjolras’ face fell. He hadn’t known that.

“I’m sorry. I hate that you, and other people have to deal with that.”

“It’s alright, you don’t need to apologise for other people being shitty.”

“I wish things were easier for us.” Enjolras’ voice had lowered to only slightly louder than a whisper again.

“Me too.” Enjolras looked up at Grantaire, meeting his eyes. Then, he did what was quite possibly one of the most stupid things of his life.

He kissed Grantaire.

It was brief, he pulled away before it could get heated, but it was soft and magical all the same. Grantaire looked at him for a moment, utterly shellshocked, before wrapping him in his arms tightly and pulling him against his chest. He pressed a gentle kiss to Enjolras’ hair, running a hand through it.

“Are we-” Enjolras started, but Grantaire cut him off.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. But now it’s-” he paused to check the clock, “-4:28am, and I want to get some sleep, and you’re gonna need it too.” Enjolras nodded. Grantaire hadn’t run, and that meant things were okay, surely. Grantaire titled Enjolras’ head up, pressed a quick, gentle kiss to his lips. It was barely there, but enough for Enjolras to know that everything would be alright.

As he laid in Grantaire’s arms, listening to the steady beat of his heart and watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, Enjolras’ regret dissipated. If he got to have this, it had all been worth it.

Thanks for reading!

@lesmissamepromptficchallenge

#les mis #les miserables #enjoltaire #les mis single prompt fic challenge #exr #enjolras x grantaire #fanfiction

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