Italy Hetalia Novels & Stories

"What are you doing baby?" Sebestian spread his legs wider. "Giving myself to you." Allen sometimes can't belive his luck, Sebestian who is his Alpha always ready to give himself to Allen, who is just an omega. Allen know Sebestian not first who is doing this to Allen, many Alpha like to do this. They don't give a fuck about their status, they only want to make their mate happy and want to give a equal respect in relationship. Allen don't understand one thing, even the gay couple was normal human why people want to judge their position in their realtionship.

I chuckled at the thought, staring at his stoic expression. “We’ll continue this after I’m back from work, Ivan.” I informed with a sardonic smile, strolling towards his door. There’s no point resisting. He’s going to be my toy whether he wants it or not. Translation: Hai fame? (Are you hungry?) Sei sicuro (Are you sure?) Non sono interessato (I’m not interested.)

he starts, his eyes still fixed on the road but somehow making me feel like I’m the center of his world, “that in Italy, they say ‘Ti amo’ only in very special, intimate settings?” I can’t help but smile. “Is that so? And why are you bringing this up now?” “Well, we are going to an Italian restaurant. I’m just laying the groundwork for an incredibly romantic, culturally enlightening evening,” he says, casting me a playful grin. I laugh, my nerves evaporating in the warmth of his humor. “You really know how to set the stage, don’t you?” “It’s all part of the Alpha package,” he winks, effortlessly steering the car into a turn as we approach our destination. “I aim to impress.”

Alana and Leo then strolled through the streets of Venice with wide smiles. They walked hand in hand, and Alana's plan this time was going exactly as she wanted. Alana felt satisfied riding the gondola accompanied by her husband's melodious voice, and afterwards, of course, with her stomach needing to be filled, Alana immediately made a list of foods she would never miss while in Venice, Italy. The first item on the list was to try the smooth taste of Italian gelato.

he continues, “is that they don’t know if she’s part of that alignment.” My eyes narrow. “She’s not.” “I know that,” he says calmly. “You know that.” A pause. “But no one else does.” Silence settles in the room. Heavy. Calculating. Because perception. Perception is everything. “And the Italians?” I ask. “They’re watching,” Declan replies. “Trying to figure out if this is an alliance… or a weakness.” My jaw tightens slightly. “They’ll test it.” “They already are.” That doesn’t surprise me. Nothing does anymore.

But somehow, I manage to simply laugh at Natalia’s suspicion that Daniel might like men – as if it’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heared? “Really, Natalia?” I ask, scoffing pleasantly. “I mean, I know we’re not a very handsy couple or anything, but I didn’t think we’d pushed you that far along into the realm of the ridiculous.” “Ah well,” she says, wrinkling her nose at me a little bit. “I suppose that it is just that you are Americans. In Italy, when the young are in love, they cannot keep their hands off of each other. You know?”

As the conversation progressed, Alessio mentioned his homeland, Italy. “You should visit Italy,” Alessio said, leaning forward slightly. “I promise, it’s even more beautiful than here.” Amanda raised an eyebrow. “Blimey! I’m very up for it. You know, Tenerife is stunning.” “It is,” Alessio admitted, his eyes sparkling. “But Italy has something...special. You’ll see when you come.” Her friends chimed in, asking for tips on the best cities to visit. Alessio listed places with enthusiasm, sketching imaginary maps in the air.

That seems to have woken Zamiel from his shocked. “I—Italia!” He rushed to her side, but she hold up her hand. “N—no.” Her throat was throbbing. “I don’t need any of your pity, you Salvadors!” Zamiel looked at her sadly, but he did not speak a single word. It was as if he could understand where her anger was coming from. “And you.” Italia picked herself up without any help. “You hated this marriage, right?” Gustavio remain silent, but he was breathing hard.

I whispered. Valerio turned to me slowly. His face was hard, but something flickered behind his eyes. Calculation. Anger. And something else I did not want to name. “Yes,” he said. “And they want you to panic.” The corridor ended at a wide circular chamber. In the center stood a glass table lit from beneath, holographic maps hovering above it. Italy. Milan highlighted in red. Several smaller markers blinked around it like warning signs. Valerio released my hand and stepped toward the table. He swiped the air and the map shifted, zooming in.

I was about to thrust forward when the door was slammed against the wall. “Che cazzo, Mattias!” (Italian for “What the fūck, Mattias!”) Lorenzo hissed from the door, forcing me to roll my eyes as I leaned my forehead against Isadora’s. “You’ll have enough time to fūck her, but right now we have bigger issues. Get the fūck up and stop thinking with your dīck.” He added, before walking off. “Prometto che finiremo questa principessa.” (Italian for “I promise we will finish this, princess.”) I murmured against her soft lips before pressing my lips to hers.