#count your fucking days Mista Shadow

[donelywell]

February 14 2024

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Casino Nights! Au belongs to @sonikkublue!

+ Doodles

[lovehotelreservation]

Give Me Your Fior Di Latte - Seniority

Summary: Being the affluent heir to a flourishing pharmaceutical company, it was easy to say that he had access to anything and everything he could possibly ask for.

Except for what he desired most, so close within his grasp yet still so far away. His superior at work: You.

And he just couldn’t endure this any longer. [Business AU]

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Reader/Fugo

HELLO

HI

SO

THIS IS BACK

I THOUGHT IT'D BE BEST TO PAIR THIS IDEA WITH MISTA'S AND I BLAME THIS PIECE ENTIRELY ON THE LEWDIE SENPAI-KOUHAI DRAMA CD THAT ENOJUN (FUGO'S VA) DID

IDK AT THIS TIME IF THIS WILL MAKE THIS WORK OVERALL A SERIES BUT ALAS IF THE TIME 4 FIOR DI MILKING ARISES

THEN SO IT SHALL

A R I S E

ANYHOW I HOPE U ENJOY!!!

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Another day, another country, another meeting.

And yet Fugo was experiencing an all too familiar bout of anger.

He was sure to read up on Japanese cultural etiquette prior to this business trip to Japan--as the heir to one of Italy's most prosperous pharmaceutical companies ought to do--but he still could not contain the admonishing hiss of his voice while his hands seized hold of a wrinkled, lilac-colored collar.

"What the hell are you wearing?! Where the fuck is your suit jacket, you idiot?!"

Having shuffled away to an empty business room, Fugo was not holding back his anger in the slightest while he shook away at a flailing and whiny Narancia, who served as the company's hapless intern while also being his closest friends from college. While Fugo excelled in his studies to be able to graduate in less than 4 years, Narancia was crawling through his 5th year and was in need of an internship to meet the prerequisites for graduation.

Lazy, stubborn, ever and easily distracted--friendship or not, this was the makings of an ever volatile working relationship between the two.

Such was the advice to never do business with one's best friends.

And now, here Fugo was, having to prepare and close an extremely crucial deal between Rinnovo Inc. and the board of one of Tokyo's most prestigious psychology medical group. The meeting was in 15 minutes. Rehearsal was supposed to occur an hour earlier, were it not for Narancia sleeping in after partying it up in Kabukicho the night before with other members of the team and having just now rolled in the same suit clothes he passed out in.

It was clear that Narancia forgot his portion of the presentation.

It was also clear that Fugo was about ready to slam his best friend face first onto the sleek, wooden conference table right beside them.

At least, just until he was reminded of the third presence in the room by the hand that gently rested on his shoulder.

"Panacotta, please--calm down."

It wasn't instantaneous, but the sound of your voice and the weight of your hand was enough to clear away the burning, hot red fury that was obscuring his narrowed pink eyes.

Though Fugo was meant to be an heir to the company, there was still much that he had to learn and experience on his own, even to just work alongside his father. The knowledge he needed would be taught by you, the senior manager he was currently shadowing at work. In a sense, he was on the same page as Narancia, the both of them following after your footsteps to better themselves as businessmen.

The first time he made your acquaintance was during his first year of college, having passed by the office to collect research material for a paper he had to write. You were sitting in the lobby, looking so nervous as you awaited to be called in for your job interview. Having just graduated college a few years ago, your beauty left him entranced, along with the bubbly warmth you exuded, one that was so foreign to what he was accustomed to in face of the cold and corporate atmosphere both at the office and at home.

His paper forgotten, he opted to instead stay with you, wishing to ease your nerves as best as he could while also wanting to get to know you better.

Truly, he hoped for nothing more than for you to get hired, now feeling inspired to take up an internship at the office as opposed to begrudgingly doing so.

Even when he happened to notice the golden band around your ring finger when you adjusted your portfolio one last time before offering your thanks and following the secretary to meet for the interview.

That same hand was on his shoulder now.

Sans one wedding ring.

"Captain..."

Those deep inhales you always advised him during bouts of anger were necessary.

Even if you never failed to leave him breathless.

His grip on Narancia's collar loosened as he turned to towards you, his expression beginning to soften while he faced you fully.

Your demeanor was calm, soothing, added with a small but sweet smile on your face. "What's done is done, so let's focus on how we can fix what's going right now, alright?"

Fugo took in another breath.

There was another matter that he needed immediate assistance with, something only you could fix, one that tore at him from within upon each passing day he was left to silently endure it.

He exhaled. "Yes, captain..."

"Still..." You peeked around him, a sigh released from your lips as your expression turned exasperated. "Narancia, you should really take more care, especially with important meetings like this."

The hard thud of Narancia falling to the floor on all fours followed, his head lowered. "Captaaain! I'm sorry I fucked up! I promise I'll do better next time! I'll drink margaritas instead of vodka when I go out!"

While Fugo found reason to forget finding peace and instead seize back his rage, you studied Narancia's physique while you considered what would be the best course of action.

Thankfully, the answer was simple as it was effective.

"Just be glad I decided to dress for comfort today, Narancia. Here...this should fit you since I sized up on it."

Fugo stiffened, his eyes immediately directing away from Narancia towards you, watching as you shrugged off your blazer before offering it his befallen friend. While your top was modest in presentation--not too much skin exposed--the material was form-fitting, made more apparent now that your blazer was gone.

While any moment spent watching you was pleasure at its peak, all Fugo could feel was the vicious sting of jealousy as his best friend eagerly seized hold of your blazer.

"Wahh! You're a lifesaver, captain!" Narancia cried out while rubbing his face against the fine material of your blazer. "I won't let this happen again! You can count on me!"

You began to giggle, reaching down to pat and stroke his head with delicate pressure before playfully tugging at his hair. "You better!"

And so Fugo had to take in another breath.

"Now," you remarked while smoothing down the front of your top. "I'm going to make sure the powerpoint is running properly." Taking a step ahead, you brought your hand to Fugo's shoulder, your expression warm and trusting. "Panacotta, please make sure Narancia's ready!"

He refrained from glancing at your ringless finger, his eyes wishing to never break contact from yours. "You can count on me, captain."

Your hand retracted.

Your feet stepped aside.

You left the room.

Though your scent lingered.

And Fugo felt cold.

It was an icy chill--an achingly familiar one.

He wasn't sure why of all times, but he was getting a sense of deja vu to when you had to take leave for a few months. The only difference between now and before was back then, your stomach was much rounder.

"I never wanna take this off. It smells exactly like captain!"

With no time to be bitter, Fugo was yanked out of his reverie, his head sharply turning to see Narancia still on the floor, moaning dreamily while nuzzling his face against one of the blazer's sleeve.

You weren't around any longer, and thus returned his vision of crimson.

"Fine, since you like it so much, I'll staple it onto your skin if you'd like," he snapped under gritted teeth, taking a few hard stomps ahead to drag his friend up to his feet by the hair.

Narancia let out a yelp, his violet eyes immediately narrowing in defiance before swatting away Fugo's hand with a grunt. He brought his hands up to his hair, quickly patting and smoothing down any disturbed locks. His tongue immediately shot out as he tsked, "Hmph, whatever, Fugo! Your younger age really shows you know!"

Holding up a finger, he proceeded to wag it while an all-too knowing smirk slid onto his lips "It's a good thing captain's already a mom and knows how to take care of brats like you--!"

Fugo immediately lunged to grab the stapler on the conference table.

It was nothing short of a miracle that the two of them managed to get ready on time.

But while Narancia was more or less prepared at last, Fugo's mind was elsewhere, having followed the trail of his eyes with every glance sent your way. Despite the composed expression on your features, he could tell you were cold from the air conditioner in the conference room. Your hand would reach up to rub over your arm every now and then, and he was ready to simply offer you his jacket.

Both for your comfort and to cover you up in face of all the other businessmen in the room.

After all, with the snugness of your top, the definition of your curves were outlined as was how profoundly supple your breasts were, looking still so full and big, as he was aware that you were still nursing your baby.

His attentiveness of you, however, was what caused him to be caught off guard by a question made by one of the board members. He was truly at a loss for what was said--context, his place in the presentation, everything. His eyes shifted to yours for a moment, seeing the confused, if not concerned look in your gaze.

A heat was beginning to crawl up his neck, one of embarrassment, of shame, and of frustration.

But before things turned disastrous, all it took was a quick intervention by Narancia, who was able to answer in Fugo's place, doing so to segue things over for you to explain instead.

Though there was relief, especially as Fugo scolded himself inwardly while returning his focus to the presentation at hand, there was still a lingering, burdensome feeling that he was in dire need of relieving in some way.

Much was presented, business cards were exchanged, hands were shook.

The meeting wrapped up to a seeming success, with the board wishing to hold a follow-up conference call next week to discuss moving forward on a joint venture with Rinnovo. From an utterly stressful, nerve-wracking morning to a lively and raucous dinner at a warm, smokey izakaya bar in a crowded Shinjuku alleyway, your team was in a celebratory mood.

Platters of grilled and fried delicacies covered the low wooden table that you and the rest of the Rinnovo's representatives were knelt before, all while each of you mugs of beer and cups of sake raised in yet another toast.

"Everyone did so well!" You chirped towards your colleagues, holding up your glass of water just before your gaze lowered down to your lap, your smile becoming amused as you continued, "...especially you Narancia! Your improvisational skills really helped us there!"

Having found much comfort in resting his head upon your lap, a flushed and grinning Narancia smiled up at you dreamily at your praise, snuggling into the blanket that was your blazer before responding with a slurred, "'Schank you, captain! Above all elsh, I din' wanna dishappoint yoo~"

"Well you're certainly being a nuisance to her."

Snorting right beside you was Fugo, who only rolled his eyes while he sipped his beer. For as celebratory at you and the team were, there was a standoffish, sour mood that he exuded, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to be elsewhere than here. It made you concerned, as you were certain that something was bothering him, of which you anticipated needing to speak to him about as a superior should.

Still, that was a matter for tomorrow.

In the mean time, you were about ready to depart. The hour was getting late and you wanted to return to the hotel, as you had plans to call back home before you turned in for bed. Wih you out of the country, your child was left in the care of your mother, who had been your main supporter in light of your current situation.

Fugo, having had enough with dealing with the drunken antics of Narancia and the others, offered to escort you back to the hotel. It was for the better any how, as the departure for the both of you was delayed by Narancia whining and begging for you to stay as his pillow, of which Fugo was quick to reprimand him for.

However, aside from that, he was quiet on the taxi ride back. You attempted to probe into what was bothering him, but he assured you that all was well and that he was simply ready for bed after a long day.

Feeling that it was better to give him space at this time, you did just that, wishing him goodbye at the elevators before he hopped off for his floor. Though you hoped that whatever was burdening him wasn't too serious, you anticipated getting to call back home and see how things were going with your child and your mother.

And so you stood before your room, reaching into your purse to take out your room key.

But it didn't take long for the realization to dawn on you that your room key was missing.

You searched through your purse over and over to no avail. Recounting your steps, thinking of all the places you could have possibly left your room key behind. The idea to call your colleagues came to mind, but you thought to do just one more thing before doing so.

It was why you were approaching Fugo's door.

It was why you raised your hand to knock.

You were here to find the whereabouts of your key.

But as the door swung open just before you were quickly yanked inside by the wrist, it would seem that Fugo had a much different plan in mind for you.

As this was going on, a blurry-eyed Narancia was trying to sift through a thick karaoke booklet, katakana and English letters melding together as he tried to find the track number for Snoop Dogg's "Sensual Seduction". With dinner finished, he and the rest of the presentation team decided to party it up even more than they did the night before, making their first stop at a nearby karaoke bar.

"Oi Ghirga, choose a song already!" One of his colleagues grumbled, waving his half-full bottle of Asahi around.

Scowling, Narancia shot him a look of pure annoyance, emphasized by his middle finger raising up in return. "Yer gonna make time for Snoop, orrr elshh!" Still, with nothing but moody blue lighting and a spinning disco ball, trying to make sense of the karaoke booklet was proving to be difficult.

Deciding to use his phone as a flashlight, he reached into the pocket of his blazer to retrieve it, only to come to a hard realization once his fingers touched over something far too thin.

Not only was he wearing a blazer that did not belong to him, he also realized something even far more important as he proceeded to yelp out, "Ahh I have captain's room key! I need to call her!" Drunk as he was, he remembered his promises to you mid-grovel during the morning--him swearing he would do better for your sake.

And him accidentally keeping you locked out of your room when you were ready to relax and make a check in back home was the exact opposite of doing such.

However, as he stumbled outside the room to make the call, you didn't pick up.

And neither was Fugo when Narancia called him afterwards.

His eyebrows slowly furrowed together. Usually, the two of you were quite responsive when it came to answering calls.

And if the both of you--now back at the hotel, with you lacking a key card--weren't picking up your phones, it could only mean one thing.

By his drunken deductions, you and Fugo realized how much fun you were missing out by turning in early and decided to go out and have your own karaoke night together.

Narancia smiled, proceeding to slip his phone back into your blazer before returning back to the room.

The two of you deserved some joy.

However, back at the hotel, joy was interpreted and experienced in different ways between you and Fugo.

"Pana...cotta!"

As your wrists strained within the binds of a deep purple Versace tie, you continued to squirm upon the king size bed of his suite, your face flushed and your voice quivering. Though the temperature of the room was kept to a chill, you still felt overwhelmed with heat.

Your business attire was once kept in pristine condition leading up to and all throughout this day. Now, your top was torn in half at the front, your bra and skirt tossed to the floor without a care, and your stockings barely clinging to your legs after being torn at the crotch. The flawless state of your make-up was left in ruins as well, most notably your lipstick, having been smeared after your lips have been subjected to so many needy, messy kisses.

The disarray of your clothing made you just so accessible.

And just for Fugo.

As heir to the company, he had to learn how to carry himself with confidence, to declare his presence just by walking into a room. And as he loomed above you, not a shred of clothing on his skin, there was a daunting aura that he exuded, one so powerful yet still so fragile. Despite the relentless and pounding pace of his thrusts, he still couldn't quite hold back the tender side that you knew quite well.

"You baby him too much, bella mia," Fugo hissed out with a ragged breath. "Why does Narancia always get your attention?! Why him?! Why always him?!"

Your mouth parted to speak, to try to sift through all the discord that ringing through his sense of mind, but with the tight grip he possessed your hips with while sinking the long length of his cock in and out of you, you couldn't get a proper word out.

His violet gaze bore straight into yours as he growled out, "I hate this goddamn company--I hate this future that's been locked in place for me. But you..." He trailed off, a glimpse of his yearning for you revealing itself. "You still are the only thing that keeps me happy and sane--even if it killed me every time you brought up your husband." The last part was near spat out with absolute vehemence.

You bit your lip. There was always some tension during the times when your former husband would be around, whether to pick you up at work, or to escort you to company parties. Fugo would always become a lot more reluctant to hang around you with your husband around, but for when he did stay, he was always trying to find a way to direct your attention towards him and him alone.

It all made sense now.

Fugo's hand relinquished one of your hips, the temptation to grope your full and supple breasts irresistible, having yet to satisfy his desire to toy with them from when he was stripping you down. Feeling the soft and heavy weight in his palm while the tip of your nipple gleamed with a drop of milk made his mouth water, even while he was still finally opening up about his feelings.

"When you were away for maternity leave, it was the absolute worst. So boring, so dull, so lonely! God, I hated it so much!" Unable to resist and further, he brought his head down to bury and nuzzle his face into your chest, his mouth eager to seek out your milk, a taste he had longed to savor.

Though he took his time with wrapping his lips around your nipples to draw out your creaminess as a selfish indulgence, he did not relent whatsoever with pummeling into you. In fact, in-between gulping down mouthfuls of your milk as he could, he continued, "But when you came back, I had reason to not hate my life as much--"

Your hips were released completely, now weighed down by his body while an arm hugged around your waist, "--especially when I found out that you and your husband separated--he's a moronic bastard for hurting you, but I guess there was some good out of that."

His index finger hooked beneath your chin, having you gaze directly up into him, keeping your face still as he spoke, his expression that of conviction and ever so longing, his voice shaky with desperation, "It's tough being a single mother, isn't it? It doesn't have to be that way, you know. If we just get married, you'd never have to work a day in your life, and I'd be more than happy to provide for our family."

If nothing was going to get you to finally speak out, those words would. Gasping in astonishment, you stared right up into his eyes. "Panacotta, please...! Think about what you're saying! This is--!"

"--everything I could ever want! If you ever end up pregnant again, it'll be because of me!"

A breathless roar.

Now both arms were locked tightly around your waist, just before he ravaged your core with a merciless rhythm that left you shrieking too much to say or do anything else, save for the walls of your core squeezing around his cock and coaxing him to orgasm, to spill all that he could inside of you.

This was impulsive.

This was a long time coming.

This was something he craved to do for so long.

He was far from done with you, by how he was still kissing over your lips and breasts in reverence while his hand furiously stroked his half-erect cock to entangle his body with yours once more.

And as he admired the mewls and moans you let out, the gradual silence of any attempts to get him to reconsider and think things through, the expectant and even needy look that revealed itself on your face as the night went on, he looked forward to when he would convince you to reciprocate the same feelings to his earnest murmured declaration of,

"I love you, captain."