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Smile, Damn it! Romano X Reader
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WARNING: I do curse in this story, like a lot. And my apologies for people who don’t approve of stuff like that, I’m trying to stop, but it’s like a drug and it’s addicting. That probably makes no sense, but again: Sorry for people who don’t like cursing.
You followed Romano out of the conference room after the pointless World Meeting crap was over. All those countries just fought over land and other countries, causing more tension and useless arguments. Today was especially painful, because they were fighting over you. It was quite awkward.
“Damn potato loving bastardo. Why can’t-a he just leave-a mio fratello alone, eh? And that son of a bitch-a Spain! What the hell is wrong with him?! He keeps pinching my-a damn cheek, telling me I look-a like a tomato!” Romano muttered as he walked fast out the door, with you at his tail. When he was mad, he was also a bit clumsy and dimwitted.