Hi! If your requests are still open, would you be able to write Giorno x Shy!Fem!Reader where theyâre childhood friends and Giorno gained feelings for reader over the years and wants to confess but doesnât know how? Maybe reader feels the same way and wants to confess too?
Thanks!! :D
Did I spend 2 hours writing this because I got hyperfocused? Yes. Worth it? Yes.
Giorno and the reader are both 15 at the start and 18-19 by the end. ENJOY!
âAmica?âÂ
You knew that voice. It had Giorno all over it. Giorno and you had become friends when he moved next to you when your were both 4. Heâd changed his name to Giorno, and you respected that, only his mom and step-dad called him Haruno, as he was known in Japan.
âGio Gio?â You stepped out on the porch of the cafe you worked at, âWhat is-?â You stopped. Standing in front of you was Haruno Shiobana or Giorno Giovanna as he liked to be called but⊠blonde.
âSanta merda! Gio Gio, youâre blonde!â
âI know!â He threw his hands in front of him, âI woke up this way!â
You looked at him, gathering all the details you could. He was still the same boy. Same jade eyes, âWhat happened?â
âI woke up this way!â He waved his arms about, âCan we talk about this?â He pointed to his newly golden locks. It practically glowed in the sun, âUh, I have a 15 minute break soon.â You stuttered.
âOkay, Iâll be here.â He wrung his hands and leaned awkwardly against the lamp post.
âOr you could come inside.â âI donât have any cash on me.â
You chuckled, âI can still get you a water, on the house.â
He nodded, âAlright.â
You waved him in, âItâs not like anybody will recognise you anyway.â
âYou did.â He said quietly
You blushed silently, âBe with you in a few.â
âSo you woke up, and now youâre just blonde?â
âYeah! Like my dad.â He whispers
âWhoa, you never talk about your dad.â You are even mor eintrigued now. Giorno had a peculiar picture in his wallet that he said was his biological father. The man in the picture was build strong and almost scarily so. But the defining trait Giorno knew was from that man was the star shaped birthmark on his upper shoulder.Â
âI mean, I didnât think this is what puberty did.â You teased, âWhat colour do you think my hair will turn?â
âPink?â He laughed, âNo, that a ridiculous colour.â
âYeah, nobody in their right mind would have pink hair.â You laughed together.
âWhat would you even do if you met a dude with pink hair?â
âHow should I know?â He laughed, âIâve never seen one, and I doubt I ever will.â
âWell, you could grow it out.â You said
âI could, we could style it like those old magazines we used to read as kids.â
âI can see you in a braid.â You grin
âWeâll see.â
âEhi! Y/N, back to work, I see you going 2 minutes over your break!â
âGotta go.â You stand up, but Giorno stood as well, âMe as well, goodbye, Y/N.â He customarily kissed you on both cheeks, something youâd taught him a long time ago. Watching him leave, you went back to taking orders as you wished that youâd had the nerve to teach him a new kind of kiss.
A few weeks later, he stopped in again, âAmiga!â
âHey, got money for an actual coffee this time?â You called down the stairs
âI do, but thatâs not the point.â He climbed the cafe stairs to meet you, âIâve figured it out.â
Him suddenly so close with that piercing gaze had you pull away, flushed pink. âWhat?âÂ
âI figured it out. The drug trade, everything.â
You looked quizzically at him, âYou mean the mafia?â
He nodded, âIâm going to join them.â
You blinked. Wow, youâd lost it. Who knew serving 17 macchiatos in an hour would finally push your brain past its breaking pointt?
âAmiga?â
âSorry, you lost me. Whatâs the plan?â You wiped down a table
âIâm going to become a gangstar.âÂ
You nodded, âSee, I keep hearing you saying you want to join the mafia.â You shake your head.
âI did say that.â He tries to meet your eyes, âAll the drug problems, the law being run by criminals, it can be solved, I can solve it.â
You couldnât believe what you heard, âYouâre 15.â
âI know. I need all the time I can get, I have to start early.âÂ
You put the cloth and spray down, âTell me youâre kidding me.â You kept your voice low, you didnât like catching attention of others.
âNo, Iâm finally going to do something about all this.â He took your hands in his and you noticed him stutter, âW-we grew up surrounded by people influenced by drugs, isnât it time to do something about it?â
His change in demeanor prompted you to break out into a red blush. He wasnât usually so⊠forward. It was different. You automatically sank back into your shell as red as a crab as other people stared. âGiorno, this is insane. You canât join the mafia, itâs an early death sentence.â
âI get that, but things are different now.â
âBut why you?âÂ
âBecause kids like you and I deserved to have good childhoods.â
That struck a nerve, âGiorno, I want to talk about this more, but I need to stay focused on my job right now, Iâm sorry. Iâll call you when I get home, okay?â
He took a deep breath and stepped away, âOkay. I didnât mean to startle you.â
âItâs alright, Iâm just worried about you. I care, okay?â
âI know.â He smiles earnestly, âI love that about you.â
Before you had a chance to reply or even register what he said, he was gone.
You called him that afternoon. Nothing. You called him again later that night. Nothing. You called him the next morning. Same results. Life went on, agonizingly slow. A week went by.Â
You should have just told him when you had the chance.
A month. 2 months. 4⊠8⊠a year. You gave up after 3 yearsâŠ
âAndrea, I need you to calm down. The report doesnât have to be done until noon tomorrow. You have a full day and 3 hours to draft and finish it.â You spoke on the phone to a colleague. âYes, Iâll be in on tomorrow⊠no, you donât need me to proofread it, youâre an adult, you can scan your own emails for typos.âÂ
A knock came from the front door. âAndrea, take a breather and write when youâre ready.â You hang up. Why your co-workers who were 5 years your senior needed you to spellcheck was beyond you. The knock came again, whoever it was, they were impatient. You checked the glass and caught a glimpse of blonde, and your heart skipped a beat. You calmed yourself and opened the door. It wasnât him. Of course it wasnât. A man in a green suit was standing in the doorway, âBuongiorno signora.âÂ
That name. He had to say buongiorno. Of course giorno was a regular word, but it followed you everywhere, and you felt your heart flop sadly every single time you heard it.Â
âWhat can I do for you?â You cross your arms.
âMy name is Pannacota Fugo, my boss wishes to speak to you privately.â
You nod, âOkay, Iâm guessing youâre from a law firm or something?â
âNo, signora. I am from Passione.â
Despite the decrease in crime regarding the mafia, the word stung, it was the mafia group Giorno mentioned. God, if they were looking for Giorno⊠but they couldnât even ask you, you had no idea where he went either.
âWhat about it?â
âYou may know him.â
âI donât know anybody from the mafia, I make it my business to stay clear of their business.â You go to close the door.
âIâd reconsider. The boss says he knows you personally. Iâm here to take you to see him.â
You steeled your nerves, âI said no.â
It was a skill you were working on, youâd become better at not being so shy.
âRight. Well, Giorno sends his regards then.â Fugo says and goes to leave
âGiorno?â Your heart almost jumps out of your chest, âGiorno Giovanna?â
Fugo nodded.
âIâll get my things.â
You pulled up the a house. It was lavish, even on the outside.Â
âHeâs inside.â Fugo holds the car door open for you.Â
In just some clothes youâd thrown on, you climbed the steps to the house. You stopped at the door. Fugo followed you and nodded to some guards who opened the door.
âWhere is he?â You asked the blonde man.
âOn the left.â
You rounded a corner and on a chair in a large room was a man.
âAmiga?â
Your face flushed at the sound of his voice.
âPlease, leave us.â The blonde man stood. He was just as handsome as he was before, but now, toned and his blonde hair was long and braided down his back. He wore all black. You stared dumbfounded at him.
âIt was hard to find you, you changed jobs.â He chuckled. That laugh made a old shiver run down your back, one youâd thought youâd lost.
You stepped back and tripped over a chair behind you. Without missing a beat, he caught you. But that didnât make sense, he was on the other side of the room. But something caught you. You caught your balance and eased yourself up, still in shock, âYouâre⊠here.â
He nodded with a hint of pink on his cheeks, âYeah, Iâve been here for a few years now.â
âYou⊠you never came back.â Your face heated up.
âIâve been getting a handle on crime before I brought you to me. I didnât⊠I didnât want you to be a target.â
âBut you could have called.âÂ
âIâm always being watched, Amiga. Nothing was going to be a secret these past years.â
âYouâre still calling me amiga.â You said.
âWell, I thought maybe we were still friends.â He sighed hopefully
âI, I donât even know what to think. I⊠I hated you. I hated that you said nothing and left. But I missed you, and I still doâŠâ You held your head in your hands, trying to name all these emotions running through you.
âI loved you.â You finished.
He looked wistfully at you, âMe too.âÂ
âWell, w-what now?â
âWell, itâs up to you. We can start over, or we can just, let this go. Iâll let you go back to how youâve been.â
There was a long pause,
âI⊠I want to be near you, but this canât have just⊠not happened. I think-â
âSo we should start over?â He nodded
âNot from the beginning.â You got closer and touched his face, âI still know you, at least I think I do. I might not, but I want to.â
He leaned into your touch.
âI still know this face.â You brushed your thumb over his cheek. You chuckled, âTo be honest, I dreamed of this face.â
âReally?â He chuckled pleasently, a sound that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter
âI face I wished Iâd kissed.â
âYouâve kissed my face plenty of times. Youâre the one who taught me to do it.â He smirked. A vine snuck around your wrist and a flower appeared in your palm.
âThen the face I wished I kissed in more than one way.â You leaned in. You pressed your lips to his left cheek, and then the right, and as the sun made the rose coloured curtains behind you project a pattern of pink on his face, you sealed the confession with a gentle kiss on his soft lips. His hand curled around your face and tucked your hair behind your ear, âI wish you showed me this was to kiss earlier too, Amiga.â He smiled.
âYeah, if this is how itâs going to be from now on, Iâm going to need to be something more than amiga.âÂ
His response was quick and sauve, âThen this is the greeting kiss you should expect from now on, cara mia.â












