One of my best friends, whom I love dearly, requested Italy smut from Hetalia. I fail at writing smut, and thus, this happened.

Title: Sensitivity
Author: shadowsirenv (me)
Rating: 17+ (implied handjob, lmao)
Pairings/Characters: North Italy/Reader

Before reading: Name= Insert your name here.

 

 “I’m surprised you have the time to party like this with your economy,” you commented while doing the Charleston. Italy just smiled cutely with his eyes closed as he danced by your side.

“But this is so much fun! I want everyone to be happy in this depressing time!” he answered cheerfully.

The song moved into a slower jazz song, in which everyone seemed to pair up to do a Flat Charleston, including you and Italy. However, while everyone else seemed to be dancing in a more conservative fashion despite the style, Italy held you tight to him. His arms were wrapped around your waist and your arms draped limply around his neck.

They didn’t call it “the Roaring Twenties” for nothing.

“Name, you’re such a good dancer. How long have you been dancing for?” he questioned over the music.

“For a while now. I’ve always liked dancing, ever since I was little. Besides, it’s my job too: to entertain you military men,” you enlightened, “You’re not so bad yourself, mister.”

“I’ve always been fond of the arts, dancing too!”

You danced together a little more without speaking. No more words needed to be said; just the closeness of two bodies dancing to fun music spoke for itself.

“Hey, Italy,” you finally said after a while, “I have a question.”

“Mm?”

You moved your hand up to his cute, little curl that stood out from the rest of his hair. Gently, you pulled the strand between your thumb and index finger and straightened it out.

“What’s with the one particular curl? It’s so adorable!” you expressed. Italy’s face was beat red while you asked this and he had stopped dancing completely. You stopped as well.

“O-oh, Name, oh,” he let out. You gave him a confused looked.

“Huh?” You wrapped the curl, around your finger, totally unaware of what exactly, you were doing to Italy. “I don’t understand. You’re acting odd, Italy.”

“N-name! Stop teasing me like that!” he requested. You cocked your head to the side, still confused at what he was saying.

“Teasing? I’m just playing with your hair,” you explained. Gently, he took the hand that was pleasing and torturing him at the same time and pushed it down and away from his hair.

“I like you a lot, Name, but that’s not something we should do in public. We can do this somewhere else later,” he suggested.

You demanded, “Italy! I don’t understand! What are you saying? Why are you so flustered?”

He cupped his hand to your ear and began explaining. Your face reddened just as deeply as his did, and you covered your mouth as you gasped.

“I’m so sorry I had to no idea!!! I’m so sorry!!!” you apologized deeply, “If I had known I wouldn’t have done it!”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind you doing it, just not in public. I don’t think everyone else wants to see it,” he said with his signature lazy smile.

“…What?”

“Mhmm, if a cute girl touches it, it’s okay. Especially you, Name.”

You let out a sigh.

Italy was definitely and Italian man. There’s was no doubt about that no matter how you looked at it.