Hetalia Italy Chibi Novels & Stories

They both turned to where the voice came from. “Ichiya, I told you not to yell so loudly in public, it's rude.” “Sorry Keito, I'm just so excited.” The two males approached them. Ichiya was a 5'7 guy who loves playing basketball. He's known for being loud and outgoing. Most of all, he thinks of Takumi as an older brother, even though they're the same age, not to mention they're in the same class. He's one hell of a flirt but has terrible luck with the ladies. Yep, a hopeless romantic.

“He made me sit on his lap for dessert tonight. Fed me the cannoli I made like I was a six-year-old. When I argued I could feed myself he told me he was the boss and I was his topolina.” “What the fuck is a topolina?” “Means little mouse in Italian. Says I remind him of a mouse.” “You do have your gap between your front teeth.” She punched him hard in the shoulder, “not even a bit funny.” “It suits you. You’re tiny like a little mouse.” She sighed loudly, “do you really think I can just fake it until I make it?” “Not the orgasms. Don’t fake those.” “Achilles!” she moaned as she nudged him.

Both tip their heads in her direction as she approaches them, but only one of them steps forward when he spots me behind her. He's big and built like the offspring of a grizzly bear and a giant sequoia tree. From the way he's eyeing me, it's clear he's already imagining all the ways he can snap me in half, which is fine by me because I wouldn't mind putting a bullet in his skull either. I do not trust Italians. They're vile, cruel and incapable of putting anyone but themselves first.

“Ti amo… something.” Layla chuckled. “Ti amo tanto. It means I love you so much.” “Oh!”. Gabi’s eyes brightened. “I’ll go write it down.” She ran off. “She’s learning how to speak Italian.” Gabe explained. “It’s nice. You should learn it too.” She told him. “I have.” “Really? Let me hear it.” “mi chiamo Gabriel e ho otto anni.” Gabe said without missing a beat. “mia zia Layla è una bella donna.”

Adelina purred around him like a sleek kitten, which seemed to amuse him, but then Adelina was Italian, and as a race of people they were like that, open and warm and more touchy-feely than the British—her, Charley thought, making the rueful distinction. She’d never purred around any man and couldn’t imagine ever wanting to—which made the way she quivered around Dami De Santis all the more disturbing to her peace of mind. He wasn’t her type. He was too much of everything. Too big and tall, too lean and dark, too sexy and handsome—too crushingly cool and terrifyingly enigmatic, she decided as she hooked up her little silver beaded evening bag and headed for the door.

I whispered in return. La mia piccola Mini (My Little Mini)

Phoebe left her hand and Nandini scurried away. Chiara’s friend asked, “ Chiara, this is so surprising. She hunted your Husband. Beware she is beautiful and best friend of your husband. There is something between them” Chiara laughed and uttered “I am Chiara D’Alberto, never forget that” she throw her glass of vodka on her friend’s face “Bitch!” Her friend muttered.

The hand over her mouth was large, calloused, but somehow gentle. She thrashed once, instinct more than thought, but he pressed closer, chest to her back, his breath warm against her ear. “Shhh, principessa,” a low voice murmured, sending shivers down her spine “Scream and you’ll draw every guard in this place. And I promise you… I’m faster than they are.” The accent was unmistakably Italian — rich and undoubtedly dangerous. Not likr the polished American lilt of Alex Valenti. This was darker, hungrier, the kind of voice that commands attention at every single word.

"So how're you enjoying school? Made any friends yet?" Chito laughed happily, his eyes narrowing almost into slits. He and Mia looked nothing like each other. It was odd because Chito looked Asian, with his black hair and slanted eyes while Mia looked like a European with her red hair and green eyes. Lord, but she was a beauty. "Have I made any friend yet?" He scoffed and leaned back in the bed. "I've made quite a number of them already, especially with the ladies." His smile was from ear to ear.

He softly placed his left hand to the small of my back and linked his fingers through mine with his spare hand as he pulled me gently closer to his chest, it felt wrong to place my hand upon his chest, but I awkwardly didn’t know where I should place it. “Micetta if you are uncomfortable just say, you do not need to suffer from my father’s unsubtlety’s” he smiled gently. Micetta? I didn’t know its meaning but his Italian accent was intriguing to my lonely heart. God I really was losing it. “Micetta?” I questioned with a tilt of my head. He chuckled softly “it is Italian for kitten” I froze, my blood running cold as my body physically jolted still with his words. All comfort I had been feelin