Changeling-Giorno Giovanna x Reader

Captivating

(A/N: you are NO LONGER ALLOWED to pick the song. You have lost those privileges and will regain them next chapter >:c )

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cap·ti·vat·ing

/ˈkaptəˌvādiNG/

adjective

adjective: captivating

capable of attracting and holding interest; charming."a captivating smile"

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It's stupid to be waiting for them. You know what's going to happen, you idiot. 

But that thing last night, that had to mean something, didn't it?

Stop. Don't fool yourself. They don't care about you or anyone else. 

Y/N's thoughts played a torturous game of jai alai in her head, ricocheting off her skull at worrying speeds. Why the hell was she so fixated on people she had just met- gangsters, no less?

"Miss Valentina Valdez, everybody!"

No time for that now. Y/N stepped gingerly out of the suffocating darkness that was stage left with a smile, her heels clacking against the black wood as she scanned the audience for a very specific group of six.

Nothing. The spotlight was right in your face.

Antonino, I'm gonna fucking kill you...

Your consciousness cut to the microphone. Polite whistles and clapping.

The band behind you continued as you smiled and began your song, dancing the slightest bit as the beat infected you. 

Then let's keep dancing...

***

"Y/N," Stefano groaned from his bed. "Sing to me, tesoro mio."

You laughed and twirled your hair, something you did when you were nervous. Stefano knew this, of course. He knew everything about you- what you ate, your favorite shows, secrets you'd never told anyone. One such secret was your singing.

"No!" You laughed awkwardly. "I'm not very good, Stef. Besides, I've subjected you to enough torture as it is." You pointed to his half-finished Chemistry homework which lay open on an unmade bed.

His little black eyes grew as he grabbed your hand. 

"Y/N, even if you were the worst singer in the world," He stopped, searching for the right words. "Which you most certainly are not, by the way- I would listen to you all day."

You blushed at that. He continued.

"You don't have to, but I'd really like it if you did," Those eyes. They were so innocent. He was naive. You both were. But that didn't really matter. The city couldn't touch you here.

"Please?" He cocked one eyebrow, smiling just a little.

"Fine," You relented. "Here goes. You like jazz?" He nodded, and you began.

"Is that all there is? Is that all there is?" Stefano began to tap his foot and whistle, recognizing the tune you sang so often.

"If that's all there is, my friends, then let's keep dancing- hey, what-" Stefano had now grasped both of your hands and was attempting to dance with you. He laughed, and you continued.

You tried to coax the song out through your laughter. He was a terrible dancer. "Let's break out the booze... and have a ball..."

"If that's all there- shit! That's my foot!" You chuckled.

"Sorry!"

"Stefano!" Mr. Rigoletti called from the bottom floor. "Come down. Now."

Stefano rolled his eyes and muttered a curse, letting you go. The song ended abruptly. You both knew what the inflection in his father's voice meant. Normally he'd come up to his room or wherever you two were hanging out and gave the keys to your boyfriend. "If you keep hanging around this house," He'd say to you with a smile and a joking laugh. "You'll have to start paying rent!" That all dissipated whenever the sharp-dressed, mouse-faced men came around the back. Stefano turned as though he were about to say something to you but then turned towards his door.

You didn't need to say anything.

***

"Why are we here again?" Narancia complained as Y/N continued to sing. Bucciarti swatted the headphones off of Abbachio's ears, mumbling what seemed to be a 'that's rude' before Mista spoke.

"She's cute, huh Fugo?"

"What she is is trouble."

"Fair enough," Mista stretched his legs. "Got a good voice, though."

Abbachio spoke in a tone that was menacing, even for him. "Giorno. Why are we here?" 

"She still has my wallet."

Stifled laughter erupted just as the audience began to applaud. The band retuned their instruments as Y/N adjusted her back and took a deep breath.

"If it gets out that we're fraternizing with the arsonist responsible for the damages to the other Families' business, it won't look good," Bucciarti interjected. "Not at all. Besides, that wallet can be replaced."

Most of it, Giorno answered in his head, thinking of his father's photo on the inner pocket. 

"But pretty much every gangster in the city has come here at some point or another. How are we any different?" Mista asked, still somewhat fixated on Y/N's voice.

"We were seen going into her house last night."

Not much of a house, thought Narancia.

"By who?" 

"Remember what she said about the city having eyes?" Giorno interjected. "Besides, I gave her it. Or, Gold Experience did."

"What a wonderful mess you've gotten us into, then," Sneered Abbachio, putting his headphones back on. "This all sounds like some trap they've been waiting to spring on us since you became Don. Why else have they left her alive? The other families must know she works here- it's not exactly a secret."

The table was silent.

"Her stand."

"What?"

"Her stand," Giorno emphasized. "It lets her shapeshift. And she can use it as a decoy."

And a weapon. 

"She's using an alias. And look," He produced a ticket stub from the floor. "Two weeks only. She's a traveling act."

"So why would she work here?" Bucciarti inquired, his brow furrowed as he put the pieces together.

"Information," Answered Giorno. "Go right to the source."

"But why isn't she dead? You said that her picture was all over the Families." 

"You knew her name," Mista added.

"You were bluffing, weren't you?" Fugo piped up from his corner of the booth.

Giorno reached into his pocket. "Not exactly."

He slid a thin plastic card across the table. Your driver's license. 

"How does that prove she started the fires?"

Another card, this one different. They both appeared to be real.

"Stefano V. Rigoletti- 6' 1, 180 pounds. Place of birth," Fugo grasped the card firmly as he read. "Sicily. How did you get this?"

(a/n- would it be jojo without an asspull? I don't think so.)

"Narancia and I saw her outside. It was just laying on the ground."

Mista was just about to ask for the technicalities that were surely involved in "finding it on the ground" but was cut off by the announcer's buttery voice.

"Give it up for Ms. Valdez, everybody," The drummer lightly tapped his cymbals, stimulating the following deluge of cheers. "She'll be here another week, so mark your calendars!"