Pannacotta Fugo x Reader One-shots

[95] raw intention.

There's something deliberate about her, how she doesn't try to hide anything from anyone, but also not one to shy away. She just.. does it. Perhaps because she likes it, or because she can.

Fugo guesses it's the latter.

When most of them are accidentally tangled in the string of fate and indebted to the hand of a saint, as Fugo did- she brings herself to the table for a feast. She toasts her wine for no else. It belongs to her. Naturally, everything on the table is given to her.

What greed, Fugo thinks. If greed is as beautiful as her no wonder hell is full of men.

Count him in, then. It's already far too late for Fugo to climb up.

Fugo stays still, standing beside her like the good obedient bodyguard he is. The bar is full and his heart is racing wildly. The scenery from up here is too good, too good to be ruined by stray dogs barking at her. She pays them no attention so he is. 

But what hurt to ask and please her?

"The dogs are rather loud today, don't you think? Miss."

She shifted on her seat, a small laugh escaped her lips, and Fugo could see her chest in all its glory. Her hand sways the champagne, swirling, making him dizzy. 

Fugo leans down to hear that honey voice of hers.

"They're just being friendly," she told him, didn't gives him the chance to look into her eyes. "Men will like anything that moves and has a chest."

Fugo could confirm. He is men.

Her hair smells just like his shampoo. 

"I wouldn't deny it."

"As if you could in the first place." She lifts her glass for him to take. The hint of amusement in her voice sends chills down his spine.

Fugo takes the champagne glass from her. Still full, untouched by her lips, makes him want to dump it on her to see what happens. She would be mad- he would be at her mercy. What would be the difference when he's already at her feet? He's tempted to find out. 

But, no. He isn't that kind of dog. So he pours the champagne to the passing waiter before placing it on the tray they're carrying.

"Fugo."

"Miss."

"I'm bored."

Fugo nearly embarrasses himself when he caught her already staring at him. Those eyes of hers are the embodiment of an abyss. They will draw people in and make them lost forever. Fugo blinked and asked, "What do you want to do?"

And she groans, back to stare at whatever is in front of her. Making him feel like he's on the edge of a cliff. "That damned Giogio better make up for this."

Now, that isn't a nice thing to say to their boss. Giorno is a good friend of Fugo too, way before they reached this point. Yet he stays silent. Even Giorno would make exceptions just for her.

"Take my hand." She demanded and Fugo immediately received her hand into his. "We're leaving this disgusting place." She wipes her hand on his suit after holding his hand to stand up. Her eyes are smiling mischievously at him. 

"Where should we go?"

"Home."

"For some honey, miss?" 

"I'm thinking of poison."

Why, of course. Fugo bows as she walks first before following her closely.

Her and her raw intention.