#vongola primo x reader

[heirloomgem]

KHR/Katekyo Hitman Reborn

First Vongola Family

Giotto Vongola

G

Asari Ugetsu

Alaudi

10th Vongola Family

Tsunayoshi Sawada

Hayato Gokudera

Yamamoto Takeshi

Hibari Kyoya

Arcobaleno

Reborn

Fon

Colonnello

Varia

Xanxus

Squalo

Others

Cavallone Dino

Byakuran 

Kozato Enma

Kozato Simon

Status: The request box is open only for the monthly one-shot voting if the characters are chosen.

[what-the-fic-khr]

THIS IS WHY I SWND MESSAGES ON MY COMPUTER NOT MY PHONE OMG. ‎(ﾉಥ益ಥ）ﾉ ┻━┻ *ahem* Giotto + hands🥺🥺

YOU LET ME HAVE FREE REIGN ON ANGST so welcome thank you for the request!! I hope you like being sad! also Giotto… I love him very much but also bc of the time era he’s from idk how to write anything accurately but I love him. also here’s assuming he’s not in HDWM like 24/7 and thus I think the cape is apart of that like Tsuna’s is. so he’s just in. y’know. nice shirt. striped vest. looks very handsome. no gloves lol this is long sorry BUT YEAH

character/s: giotto, reader-insert (gender-neutral)

word count: 444

warnings: alright angst, mentions of blood and other things, talks about reader killing their first person and whatnot

prompt: giotto + hands (body bonanza)

“Love.”

You looked so awfully tired, so small and vulnerable, curled up on the floor and leaning up against his desk.

Giotto knew, to begin with, you’d never particularly been a fighter. You did what you did, everything you did, for him. But you never really got in the line of fire, and he never forced you.

So, you’d seen plenty of blood before. All the dirt and grime that came with the job; you’d seen a lot. But you’d never been apart of it, a reason for it. Not like he was.

So, your shaky, bloodied hands set something off in him.

Seeing someone die was so severely different to killing someone, he knew that.

“Love.”

Giotto got to his knees, careful to not touch you, to not startle you. He finally got to see your face, and it only made the feeling in his chest tighter.

You looked so, so tired.

He held a hand out to you, and waited until you eventually dropped one of yours into his. The blood on your skin was dry. He had half the mind to wonder how long you’d been in here for, waiting for him.

With a deep breath, he tried to figure out just what to say. Asking you about it would only upset you further, he could tell. Even though he didn’t, you seemed to have the urge to tell him anyway. For his sake.

“While you were gone, someone was… I was on my own, so I…” You’d pursed your lips for a moment, thinking back on it. On how to explain it. “He’d said your name, and I thought… if I didn’t do my job, maybe you’d get hurt.”

You knew he likely wouldn’t, but you’d done it anyways, more for his safety than your own. Like usual. Because everything you did was for him.

“I’m sorry I was not around.”

Giotto could see tears welling up, so he averted his gaze, rubbing his thumb gently across your stained hands.

Saying it would only make this burden heavier on you, but he couldn’t help but think, with your small hand in his…

‘I’m sorry I made you a murderer like me’.

That wouldn’t work.

With a deep breath, he slowly pulled you up to your knees, and to his chest. He wrapped one arm around you securely, the other still holding your hand, between your chest and his.

“I’m glad you’re okay, my love. Thank you for working so hard. I love you no less than I did before this.”

He’d love you, no matter how many you ended up killing. After all, it’d never be the amount he had.

[therainroguefanfiction]

☁ Drifting Away (Giotto) #09

📑 Table of Contents | ◂ Previous

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☁ Plan ✖ Books ✖ Loyalty ☁

G was waiting by the gate, his arms crossed as he paced back and forth, his finger tapping against his arm impatiently. He was growing more and more impatient with each passing minute, being stuck at the manor while you were out there, completely unchecked. He was just waiting for you to return with the intent to harm his boss and he would be ready when you did. He was furious. Giotto had accepted you, trusted you even when he had advised against it and you had the nerve to steal from his boss? He wanted you punished and he wanted to be the one to do it, but Giotto didn't want you harmed, a decision G just couldn't wrap his head around.

Giotto stood at the window of his office, the breeze ruffling his hair and caressing his cheeks. He watched G as he paced, muttering under his breath. He knew how upset and confused his guardian was and, honestly, he felt the same way. Knowing that you're part of the Vongola made him feel protective of you, especially so since you're not from this era. So then, why did you steal from him? He turned from the window, settling down in his leather chair as his eyes fell on the open drawer where the fire ring once sat.

Given your own status as a bearer of the fire ring, he assumed that you were attempting to find the owner of the first-generation ring, but why would you do that? Did it have anything to do with you returning to your own time? He highly doubted that. Wouldn't you tell him if that were the case? His eyes narrowed as an uneasy feeling settled in his gut.

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"Do you remember the plan, Y/N?" came Zakun's monotone voice over the earpiece you wore.

You turned your head toward the cafe's window, bringing your hand to your mouth and speaking low. "You literally just explained it less than ten minutes ago. Is your faith in me that low?"

"Yes," Rorian replied before you even finished your sentence.

"Rude ass," you muttered under your breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing," you replied innocently, turning your gaze to the hustle and bustle around you. For a weekday afternoon, it was surprisingly busy and people were constantly coming and going. There was no sign of Holland, though, or the gossipy barista. Must be her day off.

"I'm going to explain the plan one more time, so listen up," Rorian stated.

You held back a groan, resisting the urge to call him a stick in the mud. It may be true, but you doubted that he would just ignore the comment and you didn't feel like listening to him bitch and moan. You needed to keep a cool head and if he started in on you, you'd definitely bite back.

"When the fire bearer shows up, Y/N will attempt to get him to return to the base so we can talk to him. While they are talking, Sylvian will slip by and attach a tracker to him. I doubt he will come willingly so when he leaves, Zakun will follow him from a distance until they reach a secluded area, at which people Y/N and Sylvian will move in to assist Zakun in capturing the target. We have to secure this man at any cost."

You hummed, leaning back in the chair. "Why not just offer him money? People'll do anything if you hit the right price."

"I don't want to hear any ideas from the likes of you," Rorian huffed. You could hear the scowl on his face. "You're the reason we have to resort to tailing him because you lost the address of his bookstore. Or have you forgotten?"

You sat up straight as your shoulders tensed, eye twitching in annoyance. "Actually, yes, I had forgotten about it until you brought it up, Mr. Buzzkill."

"Now, listen here, you -"

"Now, now," Sylvian interrupted, his tone soothing as if he were trying to placate a couple of upset children. "People make mistakes, Rory, and Y/N has already apologized."

"This one seems to make a lot of them," he muttered in reply, making you scowl.

"In my defense, it was really feckin' windy."

"Sure it was."

Before you could reply, Zakun cut in.

"Heads up. A guy matching the description you gave is entering the building."

Your head perked up, eyes set on the glass doors as they swung open, bringing with it a chilly, autumn breeze. Sure enough, there was Holland. He honestly looked exhausted, dark bags beneath his eyes and shoulders slightly slumped as he headed toward the cafe. His silver eyes scanned the area, looking for an empty table where he could sit, but the cafe was full and there wasn't a single empty table.

"Y/N, target confirmation."

You chose not to reply as your eyes met Holland's, giving him a smile and waving him over. He did not look pleased and quickly tore his gaze away, looking across the cafe a few more times, hoping that someone would get up and leave, but he had no such luck. Holding back a sigh, he slowly approached your table, settling down across from you, the newspaper resting on the table and his briefcase by his feet. Your lips parted to greet him but he cut you off with a sharp look.

"I am in no mood for your childish antics," he told you with a stern voice.

"Right." You forced a smile. "I was hoping to see you again, actually. I wanted to apologize for the other day."

He looked surprised for a moment but it quickly morphed back to annoyance as he watched you wearily. "Good. A child shouldn't be talking about the mafia, it's dangerous."

"I'm not a child," you scowled. "I'm eighteen."

"As I said, a child."

"Whatever. What's wrong with you?"

"What?"

"You look like you have one foot in the grave," you pointed out before sipping your hot chocolate.

His eyes hardened. "That's none of your concern." And then he huffed, folding his leg over the other and opening the newspaper, holding it up so he could no longer see you.

The doors opened again and you met Sylvian's eyes. He gave you a reassuring smile before heading in your direction. You weren't sure what he was planning. The briefcase was in perfect view, but he's so tall that he'd have to kneel down to plant it and that would definitely gather some attention. Your curiosity was soon sated as he approached, suddenly throwing himself to the ground beside the table. You saw his chin hit the ground and you winced.

This got the attention of Holland, who looked down at him with a mixture of confusion, worry, and annoyance.

"O-Oi, you good?" You questioned, frowning at him.

Sylvian smiled cheerfully as he sat up, rubbing the back of his head. "I apologize for disturbing you, I'm so clumsy." He rested his hand on the floor by the briefcase to push himself up and you noticed the tiniest flash of metal as he stuck the device to the bag. It was the same shade of black, allowing it to blend in, and it was so tiny that it would be hard to notice unless you were looking for it.

Holland cleared his throat, returning to his paper. "Be more careful not to disturb others."

"Yes, sir. Excuse me." Sylvian winked at you before approaching the counter to order himself a drink so he didn't look suspicious.

"People these days," Holland muttered, trying to focus on the newspaper before rubbing at his eye.

You watched him for a moment, propping your chin into your palm. "Hey, tell me about your bookstore."

His eyes snapped to meet yours, wide with surprise. "Excuse me?"

"Way to sound like a stalker, Y/N," Salmon laughed in your ear.

"Oh, uh..." You rubbed the back of your neck. "Sorry. Last time you were here, one of the baristas approached me after you left. She was quite... happy to talk about you. I think she likes you."

His body relaxed at this, a sigh passing his lips. "I don't know how she knows so much about me. I've barely said five words to her, but she always seems to run into me when I'm out and about. Do you know how many bookstores there are in this part of Italy?"

"Uh... five?"

"Seven. My store is the farthest out of town and it's quite small. What are the chances that she just happened to find mine? Plus, she works at this large store, why would she need to visit another? È abbastanza sospetto."

You tilted your head to the side, trying to figure out what the hell that meant, but Sylvian seemed to read your mind as he pretended to sip his coffee.

"He says it's suspicious, sweetheart."

"Ah," you replied, earning a raised brow from the man across from you. "Yeah, that's totally weird. So, why do you keep coming here, then? Scoping out the competition?"

"Because..." His eyes swept across the rows of books beyond the cafe, his expression softening. "I have fond memories here."

"It's a special place to you, then."

Holland realized he was giving you more information than he intended and his expression hardened again, a soft pink dusting his cheeks. "Not that it's any of your business."

You clicked your tongue, leaning back in your chair. "This man is a tsundere, ain't he?"

Salmon snorted through the earpiece. Rorian sighed, slapping his hand over his face. Holland just looked at you in confusion, not understanding Japanese.

"The truth is, I was really happy when she told me you ran a bookstore. Always been a dream of mine, you know, to run my own store filled with books." You ran your finger under your nose and smiled at the books surrounding the cafe. It wasn't a lie and he could sense that. It was the same way he had talked when he was a young child. "See, I found this place that I think might be a cool location, but I kinda have no sense, ya know? Would be great if I got the opinion of someone in the biz."

He met your eyes, searching for any sign of deceit. All he saw was his own love of books reflected back at him, softening his guarded heart. He busied himself with carefully folding the newspaper as he weighed his options. Holland was not a man that trusted easily, but there was just something about you... he felt connected to you, which kind of weirded him out since he had only met you twice. He wanted to trust you. With a heavy sigh, he stood up and grabbed his briefcase.

"I already regret this."

You grinned, jumping up from your chair. "Let's go~!"

"Hold it," he scowled, grabbing your shoulder when you tried to step past him. You gave him a confused look and he pointed to your empty cup on the table. "Throw away your trash. Were you raised in a barn?"

Rorian snorted this time. "Definitely. Y/N has no manners at all."

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop from yelling at him, forcing a smile as you picked up the cup and tossed it into the trash bin sitting just outside the cafe. You then held your arm out toward the door. "After you."

Holland lifted his chin and stepped past you, out into the cold.

"Zakun, keep an eye on them but keep your distance."

"Understood."

"Y/N, don't screw this up."

You clicked your tongue, earning a raised brow from Holland. "It's cold..."

He scanned the clothes you were wearing. "It's autumn. Why did you not dress accordingly?"

"It's been a complicated life, okay."

He hummed but didn't reply as the two of you started down the sidewalk toward the old Gardiano house. You could feel the warmth of your ring beneath the shirt, but you weren't sure if it was because of Holland being beside you or because Zakun was nearby, watching your back. You've met many people throughout your life and you had become a pretty good judge of who was dangerous and who wasn't. There was no doubt in your mind that Holland would put up a fight, but only if he was forced into a corner, like an animal trapped by a predator. In that scenario, the desire to survive may just be enough for him to unlock his abilities as a guardian and it could be bad news for you and the boys.

You glanced at him and frowned. You didn't want to hurt him and, honestly, you weren't too sure you wanted to involve him at all. He was just some average Joe trying to make it through life, but this was bigger than you or him. If he didn't help you, the Vongola would cease to exist. All of your friends, your family, would be gone. They wouldn't even be dead, allowing you to mourn them. They would cease to exist, snuffed out like the flame of a candle. Your hands clenched at the thought.

You weren't going to let that happen, no matter what you had to do. You had been prepared to die, to kill for the Vongola since the day you joined. You knew he never would, but all Tsuna had to do was say the word and you wouldn't hesitate. This was no different. You were going to face whatever Kikyo threw at you and you would defeat him, even if it meant you weren't going to return from this. As long as Tsuna, Giotto, their guardians, and the Gardiano all survived, well... that was enough for you.

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▸Next

@kiralushia​

[selvatic]

Sleep with Me! Warm Pillow Boy [Giotto]

A page turns and her gaze caresses the beloved smile. Gentle eyes, the colour of the setting sun look back at her with adoration. Fingertips brush against the paper and a tear litters her cheek. She brings her hand to her face and stares at her fingers; the same fingers that used to brush through golden locks and trace familiar skin. A single blue petal peeks from behind the photograph. Another page turns. The same flower he had given her so long ago lies dry and lonely before her eyes, reminding her of his gift; true love. She closes the album and lets her sorrow fall in crystal drops on the cover. His smile fades away from her sight, her eyes blinded by tears. Her fingers fist the black material of his mantle, old and worn-out, and she wraps it around her shoulders, seeking solace in the waning smell; his smell. If only I could see you again. If only you could warm my heart with your loving flame. If only you could cradle me to sleep one more time. Her eyes flutter closed; her being, vexed by prolonged yearning, surrenders to exhaustion. I miss you. 

[therainroguefanfiction]

✰ Cute Sweater (Giotto)

Genre: Fluff, Birthday

Word Count: 1,353

Pairing: Reader x Giotto

World: Katekyo Hitman Reborn

Author’s Note: This was written for a friend of mine, @kiralushia​, for her birthday! I really hope you have a wonderful day and I hope you enjoy this fic Happy birthday, dear.

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Tomorrow was your birthday, but it was also Gokudera’s, a fact which you were not very happy about. It made sense, of course, with billions of people populating the earth, there were many who were born on the same day as you, but why did it have yo be someone you knew? Everyone wanted to celebrate the two of you together, as if you were the same person.

You felt bad not liking this, but something about it just didn’t sit right. Of course, you kept these feelings to yourself. Everyone was so excited and they were celebrating out of the kindness of their hearts – they didn’t have to wish you a happy birthday, they didn’t have to arrange a nice dinner at a restaurant, but they did because they love you. And you loved them, as well.

Still, you wished that you didn’t share your birthday with the silver haired male, but that was life and you just had to deal with it.

When the time came to head to the restaurant, you decided that you weren’t in the mood for the family’s antics and loud nature. You just wanted to relax and watch a movie or work on your art. It was your birthday, after all, and you wanted to do what you wanted.

Tsuna’s knuckles rapped on the door to your office, politely waiting for your okay before stepping inside. “Are you ready to go, Y/N?”

You were struck with a dilemma. Should you lie in order to not hurt his feelings, claiming that you feel unwell? Or do you answer him honestly, laying your feelings onto the table? For a moment, you just sat behind your desk, brow furrowed, bottom lip between your teeth.

Tsuna was perceptive, of course, and he could sense your hesitation. With a kind smile, he approached the desk, his warm hand coming to rest upon your shoulder. “What is it? Have you changed your mind?”

As your eyes met his, filled with warmth and kindness, you knew you couldn’t lie to your beloved boss, so you nodded. “I’m sorry, I just really want to go home and draw. I’m not in the mood to sit at a restaurant all night…”

His smile didn’t falter. “That’s alright. Go on home and get some rest, I’ll let the others know. And Y/N?”

“Yes, boss?”

“Happy birthday!”

You smiled. “Thanks, boss.”

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After returning home and changing into more comfortable clothes, you settled down in the living room with your laptop, opening up the art program so you could continue your work on the current project. It was a picture of Giotto, the Vongola primo, who was, in your opinion, the most beautiful man that ever existed. You had always been fascinated by him and the first gen family, but that only grew when the primo himself somehow ended up in your timeline.

No one knew how or why, but you didn’t really care. All that mattered was this beautiful man standing before you, alive and real. You could touch him, smell the orange twinge of his cologne and feel the warmth that his body radiated. He was real and he was here. Now that, you believed, was your true birthday gift, even if it had come a month earlier.

You smiled at the drawing. It was almost complete, just needing to be colored and to add a few touch ups here and there. The image depicted the primo standing upon a hill, his face turned toward you with a gentle smile despite the confusion dancing within those beautiful eyes of his. His body was silhouetted by the setting sun behind him, setting the world alight with hues of burnt orange and crimson red.

A knock on the front door broke you from your thoughts. Who could it be? Everyone should be at the restaurant by now. Had they come to drag you there against your will? You had no doubt that Ryohei would try such a thing. This thought made you hesitate. Perhaps you should just ignore it.

But they knocked again and you realized something. The knocks were soft, polite even. Something so quiet could never be produced by someone whose aesthetic was to be as loud as humanly possible. You set the laptop down onto the coffee table before heading for the door, your fingers curling around the doorknob before pulling it open.

Giotto stood there, in jeans and a grey sweater, smiling warmly as he always did. “You really should ask who is there before opening your door, you know. It’s dangerous not to do so.”

You felt your cheeks heating up a bit and you cleared your throat. “You’re right, my apologies, Primo.”

“I’ve told you it’s okay to call me Giotto,” he chuckled. “May I come in?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, of course.” You stepped back to allow him entrance, closing the door behind him. “Shouldn’t you be with the others at the restaurant?”

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing.” His lips twitched up, eyes dancing with amusement. “Tsuna said you changed your mind. I wanted to come and check on you.”

“T-That’s really sweet of you,” you smiled shyly, eyes raking his body as he glanced toward the living room. He was such a gorgeous man, especially wearing that tight sweater, clinging to his body before disappearing into his jeans, the black belt keeping them secured in place. Upon looking closer, you noticed a small penguin embroidered onto the left breast of the sweater. “How cute.”

“Hm?” His eyes slid back to you, curiously and you coughed, quickly averting your eyes.

“Your sweater… it’s really cute.”

“Thank you,” he offered you a closed eye smile, his bangs shifting over his eyes from the movement.

When you felt an awkward silence beginning to form over the two of you, you headed for the living room. “Please make yourself at home. Would you like something to drink?”

“If you don’t mind, thank you.” He followed you into the living room, settling down onto the couch as you stepped into the kitchen, pouring him a cup of hot tea before returning to the living room. You nearly dropped it when you realized that his attention was on your computer, where the drawing of him sat open for him to see.

You swallowed hard shakily handing him the cup. “I-I can explain -”

“You’re quite talented,” he commented, taking it from your hand. “Thank you for the drink.”

His words sent a wave of pride through you knowing that someone you admired so deeply appreciated the art that you drew. The fact that he didn’t feel weirded out that you were drawing him without permission was also a plus.

“I hope you don’t think I’m intruding,” he commented softly, watching you as you took a seat in the chair. “He said you wanted to be alone, but I wanted to check on you.”

“Ah, you’re not intruding at all!” You smiled. “I really appreciate your concern. I’m happy that you’re here.”

“Oh?” He quirked a brow, unable to stop the smile from coming to his lips as he set the drink onto the coffee table. “I’m happy to indulge you, then.” He patted the spot next to him and you headed over, sliding down beside him on the couch, trying to control the warmth in your face, which came increasingly harder when his warm hand came to rest upon your own.

“Primo…” Your eyes shook with love, as clear as day to him.

“Giotto,” he corrected softly, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your heated cheek. “Happy birthday, amore mio.”

“Thank you… Giotto.” You shifted your hand in his grip so you could lace your fingers with his.

This was the absolute best way you could imagine spending your birthday and you felt so happy and warm with him by your side. It was something you never wanted to end and you would be happy to just be stuck in this moment for eternity, but you weren’t the only one. You had, after all, captured the primo’s heart.

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📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

[therainroguefanfiction]

☁ Drifting Away (Giotto) #01

📑 Table of Contents

Genre: Angst, Mystery, Comedy, AU, Fluff, Family

Word Count: 1,385

Pairing: Reader x Giotto/Vongola Primo

World: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

Author’s Note: I don’t speak Italian, so I trusted google translate to help me out here. Hopefully it’s not too far off lol This is another series I started a long time ago that I don’t know if I will finish, but here ya go haha

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☁ Abyss ✗ Meeting ✗ Shock ☁

It was dark. Pitch black with no source of light. There was no sound, like the world had been put on mute. A black abyss of the mind and heart. You tried calling out only to find that you had lost your voice. Your eyes refused to adjust to the darkness surrounding you and your body felt as if it were floating inside a black hole. Had your eyes been blindfolded? Your ears plugged?

‘What the hell is happening?’, you wondered.

With a groan, your eyes slowly slid open, moving in and out of focus. The darkness began to fade and sound slowly reached your ears. Sitting up, your eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the bright sun that was beaming down onto your body. The heat seeped through your hoodie and the scorching pavement your body sat on seeped through your jeans.

After your eyes finally adjusted, you stood up and took in your surroundings.

A cobblestone path was what lay beneath you. The street was alive with the chatter of passersby. You weren’t sure if it was you or just your mind on overdrive but you couldn’t understand a single word that left their mouths. It was a foreign language, one that seemed familiar yet you couldn’t give it a name.

Everything was laid out in a sepia tone, like in those old-timey movies, from the buildings to the sky, the ground and the trees and even the people. This made you blink rapidly and rub your eyes with the palm of your hand. Slowly, the sepia tone began to fade just as the darkness had and the color returned.

This was no Namimori.

Where were you? And more importantly, how the hell’d you get there?

You pulled yourself to your feet, feeling like a ghost. Not a single person looked in your direction. You expected some strange looks at the way you were dressed, so differently from them, but you didn’t even get that – it was like you weren’t even there. Did they ignore you because of the way you were dressed? Or could they really not see you?

Anxiety rushed over you, but you bit it back.

Shaking your head, you took off walking. You had no clue where you were going but anything was better than just standing there like a moron. The headache you had was finally beginning to fade, reduced from a stabbing pain to a lighter, numb pain. You let your feet guide you, pulling you away from the crowded street and into a dark and deserted alleyway.

You needed to gather your thoughts and figure out what was going on and in order to do that, you needed someplace quiet where you could be alone. The alley was the perfect place for that.

You didn’t know how long you had walked for but you were brought roughly from your swirling thoughts by a loud scream aimed toward you. “Hey! Voi!” A black-clad man appeared before you, grabbing tightly onto your arm.

“Dove lo pensate state andando?” Another black clad man appeared behind you, gripping your other arm.

“State venendo con noi.” They chorused.

So much for being alone. What the hell were they saying? You didn’t even know what language it was but it was making your headache worsen. You glared at the two men before reaching your foot up and kicking the first male in the side. He let out a grunt of pain, his hand releasing your arm. You then bent down, slamming your elbow into the second male’s stomach. He also released you and you turned around to run off.

Before you had the chance, the now recovered male number one re-grabbed your arm, twisting it behind your back and holding a gun to the side of your head. The second male grabbed your free arm and did the same as the first before binding your wrists tightly. If it didn’t bruise, you’d be thoroughly surprised. Not that you cared about that at that moment.

Your suspicions of the two men who dragged you roughly through several different alleyways were that they were Mafioso. Either that or they were men in black and thought you were an alien – which honestly wouldn’t surprise you, considering how out of place you felt. The latter seemed a lot less likely, though.

Your suspicions were proven correct when they dragged you into a large mansion-like building, whose halls were filled with black-clad men and women. Option three just made itself known inside your head. Maybe they were part of some cult and used magic to summon you, like England from Hetalia.

The two men roughly dragged you through the winding halls of the three-story home until you reached a set of large oak doors. Man number one knocked, waiting.

“Entra,” came a smooth, male voice.

The men opened the door and dragged you inside.

The man who sat behind the desk looked up as you entered the room, being pushed to stand a foot or so in front of said desk. Man number two didn’t miss the glare you sent him, causing his grip on your arm to tighten to a painful degree. The man behind the desk had golden blonde hair set in a spikey fashion, while his soft orbs were a mix of red and orange. His blonde locks fell into his face, but the strict expression wasn’t blocked by them.

“Boss, we found this suspicious-looking kid snooping around,” Man number one announced, his grip tightening to the same degree as his partner.

‘Asshole,’ you cursed. ‘Wait, these fucks can speak English?!’ “I was not snooping around, you prick!” you growled in response, glaring at the man on your left. “And I ain’t no kid.”

“Quiet,” he hissed, glaring at you through his black sunglasses.

“Che. Don’t tell me what to do, baldy. And who the fuck wears sunglasses indoors? You tryin’ to be cool or somethin’? ‘Cause it ain’t working, let me tell you.”

“Why you – !”

“I see,” the man behind the desk cut the bald man off, his elbows on the desk and his hands folded to cover his mouth. “You can both leave. I’d like to speak to our guest alone.” The blonde’s voice was soft, but the demand was easily detected. His deep voice flowed like honey and the deep accent was clear when he spoke.

‘He looks so familiar, I feel like I should know who this man is. Damn, Reborn was right. I really don’t pay enough attention to things,’ you scowled at the carpet below you. His accent was familiar as well, but you just couldn’t place it.

“But Boss – !” Man number two tried to protest, but quickly shut his mouth when his boss held his hand up, a clear sign that his mind would not change; it was not up for discussion.

With reluctance and a few dirty glares aimed at you, the two untied your wrists and left the office. Before the door closed, you caught the crest on their suit jackets. You hadn’t noticed it before. Your eyes widened in shock.

‘That’s the Vongola crest… They called this man the boss but… he’s not the ninth and he sure as hell ain’t Tsuna,’ your gaze returned to the blonde before you, narrowed in confusion and suspicion.

“My name is Giotto,” he introduced softly, watching your expression change from confusion to disbelief. As soon as you heard his name, an image of said blonde appeared in your mind. Things clicked into place and you finally remembered who he was.

“Giotto… Vongola Primo?!” ‘What in the hell is going on…?’

“You’ve heard of me?” he questioned, his eyes shining with traces of curiosity. He found himself feeling confused. You seemed like a normal young adult, so how did you know about him? Why did you know about the Vongola? Were you an enemy?

“This isn’t happening,” you muttered, backing away slowly. “There’s no fucking way…” you turned quickly, pulling the large doors open and stealthily dodging the guards before jumping out a nearby window. You stumbled slightly when your feet hit the ground from the strong impact, but quickly regained your balance and took off. ‘Who knew all that training with Reborn would help me successfully jump out of a three-story window mostly unscathed?’

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