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lovehotelreservation · 5 years ago

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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

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."

#pannacotta fugo #jjba #reader insert #1 million reservations #fic #super freaknasty writing #management will return in a queue minutes

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biak-kei · 2 years ago

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Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure

Relationships: Giorno Giovanna/Jolyne Kujo, Diego & Johnny as the couple's children. Stellar appearances by other characters.

Words: 4000+

Warnings: Some surrealism. Canon typical violence.

Context: Giorno and Jolyne are a divorced couple. This is an excerpt that can be read as a standalone from Chapter 4 of my fanfiction A Shadow in My Heart. It is not necessary to read the whole story to understand.

Disclaimer: JJBA does not belong to me, it's by Hirohiko Araki. I'm doing this just for fun.

[...]

xox

Giorno opened his eyes to the sun shining on his face. Unsurprisingly, he didn’t find Jolyne next to him in bed. He closed his eyelids again with heaviness. It stood to reason that she would not come back to him. He knew that. He had accepted that reality, so he soon got used to the idea of getting ready for the day and practicing his masquerade in front of the mirror.

He came out of his bedroom expecting to meet Jolyne in the dining room sooner or later. However, as he went downstairs, he began to hear familiar little voices arguing below, sounds that he, of course, didn't expect to hear that day.

"Mom! He's touching me!" Johnny complained.

"That's not true, you're lying," Diego accused him.

"You liar, you stone-eater!" he bellowed.

"You...!" Diego banged his fists on the table, ready to throw grain in the shape of dinosaurs from the box at his brother.

"Hey, you two, stop," came Jolyne's voice from the counter, apparently too busy to deal with her children's antics. "Give me a fucking break. I'm making breakfast on the fire, so if I hear you fight one more time, the family trip to Disney World is canceled."

"But Mom!" they protested in chorus.

"No 'buts'. Now eat your breakfast, or you'll be late for school."

"Va vene," the little ones said with resignation, again in unison.

Giorno stayed on the threshold of entry, trying to make sense of what was happening: Diego and Jonny were having waffles, cereal, and milk for breakfast; meanwhile, Jolyne turned her back on them and used the coffee maker and pan with the help of Stone Free.

Seeing him standing still doing nothing, Johnny called his mom to let her know.

"Ma’, pa’s down."

Giorno remained alert.

"It's about time, GioGio-Pie," she said, between mockery and charm.

When she turned around to greet him, Giorno saw Jolyne's huge belly, which had not been noticeable at all from behind, and which of course was not there the day before. In general, nothing was as it was supposed to be today.

Seeing the guarded look on the face of the father of her children, Jolyne hurriedly said in a coquettish voice:

"Hey, I promise you that they’re not on the due date yet. But even if I were to give birth today or tomorrow, I would do my best to keep this little one inside while you're in surgery, at least until you can be called to attend the birth."

‘Surgery? What...?’ Giorno didn't quite square that sequence, although something in the back of his head told him that everything was correct, indeed.

Seeing that he still stood there with his eyes wide open, his wife's smile began to disappear. She approached him and spoke quietly so that the children would not hear them, though they were very busy eating.

"Giorno Giovanna, don't tell me you’re anxious about being a father for a second time."

No, it wasn't that. He was never good at expressing his feelings, but now in particular, he didn't know what to say or how to act. Something didn't fit. More than a single factor, actually. His expression suddenly darkened.

At last, he opened his mouth to respond.

"I thought you didn't want to have any more children," he said, once he was sure to spin a reason that, to his amazement, sounded right. "That's all," he lied.

Jolyne softened her expression and looked at him with tenderness in her eyes, approaching him to then do the second thing that would surprise him most that morning: kiss him good morning on the lips in front of their children.

Diego and Johnny made sounds of disgust. Jolyne broke the kiss, laughing.

"Come on, you're both acting as if you've never seen Mom and Dad kiss."

Jolyne laughed again, pointing out how dramatic her children were. Her smile was so contagious that Giorno smiled too.

She turned to him, even more beautiful than he remembered.

"Well, these two are going to turn ten years old soon, then it will be high school, and in a matter of few years, they'll be off to university..." She explained to him, with tenderness in her voice as she looked at her children, whom she loved above all else, then caressed her belly, where the new child was growing inside her. "This house is going to feel so lonely when they leave, so this happening was for the best," she said, looking at him with a love in her eyes that Giorno thought he would never see in her again.

"The two of us…" he began to say, as memories crowded in his mind.

"We're going to be parents again, yes."

His doubts vanished with that statement. He, Giorno Giovanna, was chief surgeon of the city's hospital, also a stand user, like his wife, whom he met at university during his postgraduate degree, and like his children, whose low control of the power of their stands kept them living on the outskirts of the urban area, in a warm and suitable home.

Many years ago, he had a dream: the dream of going to the United States to study medicine and helping people. And he was able to achieve this thanks to the unconditional support of his mother and his stepfather, who loved him as if he were his own son. The two encouraged him all his life to follow his self-imposed goal.

Both gave him values and self-confidence and made him the good man he was today.

Giorno stroked his wife's face and stopped to look at her with compassionate eyes.

"I love you," he confessed. He didn't know why it hurt so much to say it, something he said frequently.

Jolyne smiled at him.

"I love you too, GioGio-Pie," she replied, before giving him a quick kiss on the lips. "Now sit down for breakfast, or you'll be late."

He smiled at her and went to the table to sit next to his children, accustomed to eating breakfast beside their father. Next to him, Johnny was watching him for a long time, until his mother interrupted them by putting a cappuccino in front of her husband.

"Don't you have to say something to your dad, Johnny?"

The little guy began to play with his fingers and bow his head in embarrassment.

"I have to make a model of the layers of the skin, and I... umh... I was wondering if you could help me, because I'm not good at biology like you or Diego."

"I could teach you, of course, if you beg me," Diego hastened to say with exaggerated mannerisms in his hands and torso.

"No! I can't stand you!" said Johnny, his cheeks flushed.

Before they started fighting again at the table, Giorno cleared his throat. His two sons calmed down and soon returned to eating breakfast quietly. For some reason, that surprised him, although it shouldn't.

He turned his gaze to his second son.

"Sure, let's work on that model together."

Johnny's eyes lit up.

"Really, pa’?"

He gave her a genuine smile.

"Of course, I wouldn't lie to you."

"I know you're always very busy," Johnny said quietly, "but Diego bothers me a lot whenever he discovers that he's smarter than me at something and..."

"You don't have to explain anything to me. I would be very happy to spend quality time together."

His son's blue eyes flashed.

"T-thank you very much, pa’!"

Giorno gave a genuine smile to his children. His wife sat next to him for breakfast and hurried the children. Outside, Danny Jr.'s barking gave the final brushstroke to the scene of the happy family.

Giorno felt content and at peace like never before, although this moment was completely out of the ordinary.

This was the life he dreamed of. He couldn't think of anything else as he watched his family share breakfast, as happy as they were and always should have been.

The barking of the dog was accentuated. Jolyne frowned.

"Is something wrong with Danny?"

The sun made a complete turn and brought the place to night, which in turn sought passage back into the day. The whole family got up from the table in a state of alert.

"Time... It's accelerating!" He watched is wife's face become disfigured by terror.

As the children hugged their mother, crying with fear and calling out to their father, the days and nights became shorter.

What could this mean?

"Gold Experience Requiem!"

Golden Experience appeared behind him, but not in its Requiem form. His stand was as surprised as he was when they looked at each other.

No, this could not be happening. Without the power of the Requiem, he was unable to protect his family and save them from the fate that awaited them.

"Giorno!" called Jolyne, as a whirlwind in the sky threatened to take her and her children, who were attached to her with Stone Free's strings that appeared to help.

There was nothing Tusk or Scary Monsters could do, even though they appeared alongside their users to protect them. Soon, the couple and their children were devoured by the whirlwind.

Giorno took his wife's hand as soon as he reached her through the gusts of wind. But her strings could barely hold her beside him for a moment before her children were out of sight and she went after them.

All that remained of his wife was the hand he held as she left him behind, trying in vain to save her children.

"Why can't I save my family?" He howled in agony. "Why?!"

"Because you decided to live a quiet and happy life, instead of taking charge of your destiny and unleashing your full potential." Pucci appeared before him in the midst of chaos, just before blowing a hole in his chest and ripping out his still beating heart. Giorno spat out blood and collapsed on the ground as the Father spoke. "It took me longer than I would have liked, waiting for you to take your rightful place, but now I know you didn't deserve to be DIO's heir."

This could not be happening.

In his still linked hand, the few strings that remained from Jolyne’s hand, at least shaped like it, held him in his last breath, while he howled a cry of pain and betrayal that was heard from the beginning of creation.

Was this the end of everything?

"Honey!" Jolyne'a voice called.

Giorno came to his senses with his mouth open in a silent scream. After his eyes stopped glowing, he blinked a few times in order to adjust his sight to the long, elegant dining table of the Giovanna mansion in Italy. His wife was next to him holding his arm, watching him with concern. Next to him, there were their two children also at dinner, watching him with wide eyes, full of fright and curiosity.

"I'm sorry," he tried to say, seeking an explanation for what had just happened.

Jolyne massaged his elbow over the table, calming him down.

"Don't worry, amore, you've been under a lot of stress recently."

Something didn't fit again for Giorno. The more he tried to remember the reason for his scream, the further the memories seemed to drift away, as if they had never happened.

"Dad, are you okay?" asked Diego, his eldest son. At least he remembered that.

Everything else was blurry, although he was sure that Diego and Johnny were his children and Jolyne, his wife. The rest kept fluttering in his head until they adjusted like pieces of a puzzle. However, he wouldn't say anything to his family so as not to worry them. They had already seen too much.

He smiled at his firstborn.

"I am."

Neither Diego nor Johnny seemed convinced when they exchanged those complicit twin looks. Jolyne, on the other hand, smiled at him as if nothing bad happened.

"Finish your dinner, GioGio-Pie." His wife kissed his lips and took his hand in hers, kissing his knuckles too.

Giorno was surprised for some reason. Seeing that his children were unfazed, he realized that perhaps they were accustomed to their parents' displays of affection.

What was this feeling?

The sun was about to set. The chiaroscuros of the sunset outlined the faces of his family as they dined at the long table. He was the only one who didn't taste his food again. He cut the steak. He blinked for only a second. The piece he forgot to bring to his mouth was no longer on the plate. Not even on his fork. He couldn't have eaten it; he would have remembered if he had.

Something spilled near him. Drops of that something hit the ground. Red liquid stained under the table. Blood. The windows were full of holes with the glass on the floor and over the inert bodies of the servants on the floor.

At the dinner table, sordidly arranged for their dinner, the bullet-ridden bodies of his wife and children painted the scene of his nightmares.

"No..."

His arm trembled and he let go of the fork. He had to use his hand to stop the shudder that spread throughout his body. He put his hand to his mouth at the vomitive reflex that the sight caused in his stomach.

Giorno hurried to inspect the bodies, which had not completely lost the warmth froom minutes ago when they chatted with him, and tried to treat each of the wounds, bullet by bullet, removing any logic that told him the uselessness of his efforts, that they were already dead and still would be after all that blood on the ground.

No, no, no. This was not real. It couldn't be.

"This... It can't be happening."

In the end, all he had in front of him were the empty bodies of his entire family.

"Golden Experience Requiem!"

The stand stood in front of him and looked into his eyes from above. Red, bloodshot eyes. Unbenevolent, ruthless eyes.

"Why didn't you save them?!" he incremented.

"My only duty is to protect you, master," he said calmly, without a shred of guilt.

Giorno slapped his own chest.

"Their lives were much more valuable than mine!" he clarified. "My life, my dreams, absolutely nothing matters if they are no longer here!"

He took a fragment of glass from the floor from the ground and proceeded to cut his jugular.

Golden Experience Requiem didn't let him die, making the blood return to the open wound and close on its own, as if he had never tried to kill himself. Giorno brought his hand to his neck, unharmed.

"Why?" he insisted under the impact, with the pain of loss trapped in the throat he tried to cut. "Why didn't you let me die too!?"

Golden Experience Requiem did not give him an answer.

Giorno heard certain voices at the other end of the room again, as if decades had not passed since he last heard them. A dark corner lit up for that single table:

"You little brat, did you really think you deserved to be happier than any of us?" asked Abbacchio, sitting at the table of Libeccio, next to Buccellati and Narancia. "Did you really think your dreams were more important than ours?"

"Abbacchio." Giorno stood up and advanced towards him. "I..."

Again, he was fifteen years old, and he was in Libeccio as in the year 2001. Again, he was that teenager sustained by his dream, but his heart still carried the full burden of a lifetime of holding the world on his back.

"I was going to go back to school and look for Fugo to convince him to come back to our side, remember?" said Narancia, stopping playing with the Carbonara on his fork, the same dinner the three of them ate on their plates. "I would have asked Trish to go out for a Margherita when we finished the mission."

"Na-Narancia..."

"Why did your dream come true and not ours, Giorno? Why?" The noblest of his demons insisted.

He didn't know what to answer. Don Giovanna led a whole life wondering the same thing.

"Did you think you deserved a happy ending instead of us, insolent boy?" Abbacchio insisted.

Again, that question. Giorno had asked himself the same question for more than twenty years, unable to find an answer that would calm his soul and justify his dream above that of any of them.

What hurt him most of all was that Buccellati was there and didn't even speak to him. With a glass of red wine in his hand and a thoughtful look, the man who he once obeyed, the elder brother he never had, was unable to look at him.

Giorno Giovanna was aware of why without needing to be told. In his years as Don of Passione, he managed to keep the sale of the drugs away from children, although he could not prevent it from reaching them in one way or another. Nor weapons from taking the life of the innocent from time to time. "Collateral damage" Fugo used to call them, but he knew they weren't doing enough.

It was never enough.

"I... I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry, Giorno," Bruno said, then returned to look at him, regal. "Did no one ever tell you that the price to pay for a dream like yours is loneliness?"

"Dreams can become nightmares." Giorno had to learn that in the cruelest way.

"When you want to protect someone, sometimes it's best to sacrifice yourself," Dr. Kujo's voice echoed in his memory.

Giorno returned to being the adult Don Giovanna. Life would not be so kind for someone who stopped being a child a long time ago.

The world needed him. His family needed him too. Renouncing his position as a Don was not an option on behalf of the comrades who perished to get him to where he was, nor for all the people who worked every day to make his dream come true. Naples, Italy, and the entire globe required his presence among their leaders.

The peace of this world demanded his power. The family he formed with Jolyne demanded that he be powerful enough to fight the tragic fate that awaited all Joestar, but he also had to be able to step aside from the narrative of their lives and stay away from them so that the dangerous life he had chosen would not reach them.

It was best to keep the people he loved away from him to continue his dream. Even if it hurt. His agony would be the price to pay for the safety of their loved ones.

In the back of his mind appeared a memory of him on the phone the night they recovered Jolyne and the slap of reality that hit him when he saw her injured, only because some unhappy person wanted to used that to get to him.

"Dr. Kujo, I know I'm not in a position to ask for anything, but I need you to listen to me. I just signed the divorce papers. Jolyne is free," he said over the phone. On the other side, he only heard complete silence. Not that he expected any answers. "I'd like to ask you to please come to Italy and help with moving her and the children back to the U.S. She must get out of here. The sooner the better."

Without his farfalla, he was just a rose doomed to quietly wither, but that was better than seeing her dead because of him.

The only act of cowardice he would never regret was dodging Jolyne’s pleas to not sign the divorce, without giving her an explanation. He was weak before her. Every time he looked into her eyes, the hope grew that there was still a future for the two of them. Until that almost ended up costing him the life of the woman he loved.

"You have my respects, Giovanna," came Dr. Kujo's voice. "You did the right thing. I've never sympathized with you, but now I see that you're not the bastard I thought you were. Remember this in the darkest days: any pain is bearable if your family is safe, away from you and the world around you. That's all that matters."

"That's all that matters," he repeated to himself, closing his eyes. When he opened it, neither Buccellati or Abbacchio nor Narancia were there. Not even Doctor Kujo.

Giorno was again on the threshold overlooking the kitchen, while his children ate their breakfast. They were no longer at home but at Jolyne's. He sought to make his own home always resemble that of his wife to evoke the warmth of the home to which he no longer belonged.

All identical pieces arranged on a different stage.

"Mom! He's touching me!" Johnny complained.

"That's not true, you're lying," Diego accused him.

"You liar, you stone-eater!" he bellowed.

"You...!" Diego banged his fists on the table, ready to throw grain in the shape of dinosaurs from the box at his brother.

"But Mom!" they protested in chorus.

"No 'buts'. Now eat your breakfast, or you'll be late for school."

"Va vene," the little ones said with resignation, again in unison.

Everything was just as he remembered it. Jolyne turned around without a bulging belly. He didn't see it.

She passed by him as if he didn't exist.

"Umh, Diego, I was wondering if you could help me with the model of the skin layers. Umh, you know, you're good at biology..." Johnny said. It was obvious that he swallowed his pride to ask his brother for that favor.

"If you beg me..." he insinuated. Jolyne gave him a warning look. Diego seemed to know very well what that meant. He sighed. "Fine. I'll help you."

His mother smiled, satisfied with the answer.

"You're both brothers. You have to support each other, okay?"

Don Giovanna couldn't help but smile. So, they were fine. It was possible for them to overcome the fate bequeathed to all Joestar if they had each other.

"Hurry up, or you'll be late," their mother reminded them.

"Va bene," they replied, hastening the march.

His ex-wife made herself a coffee and looked at her children with a certain pride. Even though he was also there, standing in the distance separating her two children, she didn't see him. She smiled at his children with a tenderness on her face that he remembered was no longer for him.

She loved her children as much as he did. And that was fine, because their lack of love for him in no way diminished the love that either parent had for the kids.

Giorno placed a hand on each of his children's little heads. As expected, they did not feel that gesture. He knelt, wanting to get a better look at them and see how much they had grown in his absence. Because he was not really present with them, nor in their lives.

That's how it should be. Even if it hurt like hell.

He gritted his teeth and avoided looking into their eyes, helpless.

"Go wash your hands, grab your backpacks, and get in the car!" their mother announced, quickly drinking the rest of the coffee she had left.

"Ok!" the little ones replied, jumping up and down in their chairs to get out.

Giorno got up from the floor and watched them leave the corridor. He turned around, now alone with his ex-wife. At first, he didn't know what to do as she hurried to wash the dishes. He hesitated to approach, but since she couldn't see him anyway, he stood still watching her.

She probably still hated him. Even so, his natural instinct was to push aside the bangs in front of her face that bothered her and that she couldn't push back on her own. It was useless. Somehow, his hand only stroked her cheek.

She reacted.

"Huh? Is anyone there?"

Giorno opened his eyes in surprise, and hope slowly lit up his eyes. He clenched his fists and forced himself to remain calm, taking a step back in more than one way.

He could talk and tell her that he was there, that he had always been and would be with her, but that would not be right. That wasn't what he was supposed to do. It was no longer his place.

"Be happy, Jolyne Kujo," he murmured sincerely, with a strong longing, harboring that desire in his heart.

Giorno turned around and left like a soul in sorrow condemned to wander forever on the face of the earth.

xox

[...]

#fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #jjba fanfic #JJBA #jojos bizarre adventure #Giolyne #Stone Ocean Fix-it #my writing #Giorno Giovanna #Jolyne Kujo #Work in progress

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