Pannacotta Fugo x Reader One-shots

[45] silent night.

Hi, it's me MatoMasaharu. How are you today?
I'm pretty exhausted and beaten up. It's alright though.
Because today is my birthday and I'm back with a new chapter and announcements!

I'm publishing the Vento Aureo Headcanons today. Please go check out the book and make your requests. Regarding request, I also open requests again for this book. You can make your request after reading this chapter.

Well, then, please enjoy reading this chapter ❤️
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"How much did you drink?"

The question almost drowned in the loudness of the bar. Currently is one in the morning and people are still bustling, burning with vigor. Team Bucciarati was having a vacation in Rome for three days, and their last destination on their last day is a bar. Thanks to Mista and Abbacchio. They eventually separated inside the bar.

Fugo stayed with [y/n] since both of them always disliked place with many people, hate noises, pretty much hates bar in general. They were chatting on a table by the wall with a glass of drinks. It was supposed to be non-alcohol. Yet when Fugo just came back from the toilet, [y/n] was already devastated. There's three more glass on top of the table.

"Where did these drinks come from?" Fugo continued asking, standing beside her with folding arms. Clearly mad, displeased. "Well, [y/n], did you hear me?"

[y/n] who's been leaning to the side sluggishly and staring down at the table, slightly lifted her face. She can see Fugo through her lashes and vice versa. "It's not important, Fugo," she answered, hiccuping between the words. She grinned widely, slanted, somehow innocent. The whole face is as red as a strawberry, eyes glazed, and when Fugo touches her, she's warm. Clearly intoxicated.

"This is the opposite of what I told you to do," Fugo sighed, admitting his defeat. Every time he's gone from watching his team member, they must get into a problem. Even now, Fugo's sure that Narancia and Mista somewhere had decided to try some pole dance or something. Abbacchio and Bucciarati are a different matter though. To be honest, Fugo didn't care much about them. They surely can take care of themselves. They can murder one or two people if actually gotten into a problem. But [y/n], he can't leave her, never.

"What are you looking at?"

"Nothing. Come on, [y/n]. We're getting out of here." Fugo took her by the hand, across his shoulders, carrying her. She smells exactly like alcohol, and a faint scent of the hotel mint shampoo.

[y/n] didn't say anything as Fugo leading the way out. She's too busy staring her teammate, her partner, as she's the spy of the team who's job is to giving information to the strategist. Most of the time, they were always together.

"What is it?

"Did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?"

Fugo turned to see in surprise, eyes widen, lips parted. The sudden confession caught him off guard, and her silent face of admiration is making it worse for him. It's like his face is almost as red as her. He's lost at words completely. "Whatever, [y/n], we're going back to the hotel!"

They made their way out the bar in silence. Fugo still caught in his surprise and even forgot to call Bucciarati. His heart's racing uncontrollably, face is red and warm. As if he's also intoxicated himself. He can't think straight, mind full of her and her alone. His hand's unconsciously pulling [y/n]'s waist closer.

"Fugo," [y/n] called, her throat has gotten dry. She tugged on his necktie before back to cover her mouth. "I feel sick."

"Do you want to throw up?" Fugo walked them to the nearest alley when [y/n] nodded. As [y/n]'s doing her business, he never let go of her. He rubbed her back softly, back and forth tirelessly. He even tucked away her hair. This is the first time [y/n] had gotten this drunk.

"This is the worst," [y/n] groaned, done with her business. Her eyes half-lidded, teary, while she's swaying around unable to stand properly.

"We should hurry to get you some drink," Fugo commented, also crouching down with back facing her. "Come on. I'll carry you to your room."

"Okay." Just like that, [y/n] let herself fall onto his back.

"Hold on tight." Fugo stood up, start to walk to the hotel in just two blocks away. He wastes no time, walking as fast as he can. He's the weakest physically in the group, even weaker than [y/n], but he did his best to walk straight without swaying or dropping her.

When they arrived at the hotel lobby, Fugo had to glare at whoever eyeing them in judgment. He made it to the seventh floor and in front of her room.

"[y/n], where's your key?"

Half-conscious, [y/n] muttering something inaudibly. She did give Fugo the key to her room from her pocket.

Fugo laying down [y/n] on her bed before went his way to fetch the cold water from the fridge. He sat by the edge of the bed, pulling [y/n] to sit down. Without words, his well intent reached [y/n] who's diligently get up and chugging the whole bottle.

"Now, you can sleep if you want. Stay on your side," he warned when [y/n] fall back to the bed. Fugo didn't forget to tuck her in a blanket. For a minute, he stayed to makes sure everything is okay. Silently watching the rise and fall of her chest, her serene sleeping appearance, everything of her. He can't help but smile as he goes to caress her cheek. 

"Did I ever tell you how I love you?"