2p! Fashion Designer! Romano x Stylist! Reader

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You worked on yet another model's make up and hair. Being one of the top stylists in the world had its perks. You got paid fairly well and you were able to meet other famous stylists and fashion designers. There was a downside to the job of course. You had to deal with prissy models who were full of themselves all the time. Hair and make up design wasn't always your forte though. You had in fact been a tomboy most of your life, avoiding make up and girly clothes at all costs. That all changed when you went to college. You didn't know what you were going to major in yet and all of your friends seemed to want to major in cosmetology. Seeing as you didn't want to be alone in college, you majored in cosmetology with all of your buddies. You found out early on in your class that you were a natural at cosmetics and graduated college at the top of your class.

Because of your skill, you were instantly hired at one of the worlds most renown salon chains. It was there that you had found out about a cosmetology competition that was going to take place. The winner would not only gain the title of Stylist of the Year, but also earn the position of chief stylist for an anonymous fashion designer. You had entered this contest as per request of your best friend, (b/f/f/n). You were up against many who were trained far better than you were, but even though you winning was against all odds, you somehow pulled it off. Once you were proclaimed as the winner, the judges announced that you would be the chief stylist for the most famous fashion designer in the world, Flavio Vargas. Everyone knew that he was the second player of Southern Italy, but they didn't seem to care about that.

Flavio and you had become quick friends over the course of your first week. In no time at all you had become just as famous as Flavio. He eventually figured that having an assistant would be good for you, so he let you choose who was to fill that position. You chose (b/f/f/n) as your assistant of course.

Ever so slowly Flavio had fallen in love with you. He had eventually asked you to be his girlfriend and you agreed, seeing that you had a bit of a crush on him yourself. This was news to the media. Everyone who was anyone knew that Flavio Vargas was an aromantic non-monogamous pansexual, so of course the media went crazy. All sorts of news stations, magazines, and official blogs were claiming Flavio and you as the cutest celebrity couple to ever exist. They tried to schedule interviews with the two of you, and you were pretty much bombarded with the paparazzi everywhere you two went for a couple weeks. When things had calmed down, Flavio and you began to except interviews with the press and TV shows. Life couldn't have been any better at this point in your life, or could it have been?

Flavio still didn't want to get married, and he still had a strong disliking for children. You wanted to start a family so badly, but you decided to put it off until Flavio was ready for that kind of commitment. You didn't want to push him to the point of leaving you. If you had to wait a life time to have your dream, then you would do just that. You did have just that, didn't you? A life time to do all of the things most people couldn't do. That beautiful gift yet monstrous curse that you were born with. The very thing that most people would kill to have. Eternal youth and beauty. Some days you just wished that you weren't a Representative of Ill Nations. All the stress from being the only Representative of Ill Nations in the 2p dimension and having to work with snobby models and other stuck up fashion designers really got to you sometimes.

You had a solution to this though. After your first mental break down Flavio had suggested that you should take a break from your work when you became too stressed to concentrate on anything. You loved this idea and agreed to it. To make it even better, Flavio said that he would also take the day off from his work on the days that you would take your breaks so you could both spend a day doing whatever you wanted. These days would normally consist of watching movies at home and cuddling on the couch with the occasional dinner date at a five-star restaurant. You hated having to dress up to go out and would try to decline the dinner dates, but Flavio always managed to get you to say yes. This was usually done by him using his Italian charm on you, grabbing you by the hand, and twirling you around in a quick tango with him. It always ended with him leaning you down into a dip and giving you a quick kiss on the lips.

Let's head back to the problem at hand though. That problem was a loud, high pitched wail coming from down at the end of the studio, getting louder and louder as it came closer to your work station. All of a sudden a crying model ran past you and the other stylists that worked for Flavio, and to a certain extent, you. (b/f/f/n) quickly walked over to you, coming from the direction that the model went.

"Did you see that?" she asked shocked. You sighed quietly.

"Yeah. I should probably go see what's wrong. Can you finish up with Yvonne?"

"Sure thing (n/n)!"

You left your area and walked to where the model had come from. Once you reached a set of doors you knocked softly on one. No one answered so you quietly opened it and closed it behind you. You saw Flavio standing in front of an empty mannequin with his blue measuring tape draped over both of his shoulders. His curl was frazzled rather than it's normal smooth curve.

"You okay?" you asked while leaning against the doors.

"I don't know anymore bella," he huffed.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Come on," you said as you moved over to him. "I bet it will make you feel better." You grabbed a hold of his left hand and dragged him over to the white couch he had stationed for his models to sit on while he worked on their outfits. You sat down, but he continued to stand at the edge of the couch cushions with his arms crossed. You pulled on the sleeve of his white designer suit, your way of silently telling him to sit. He did so slowly, almost as if he was contemplating on running away like the model had done a little earlier. The blond Italian decided against it since he knew he could never out run you. You had been the captain of your high school and college track and field team after all.

You both sat in a comfortable silence for awhile. Then, Flavio suddenly slouched over and put his face in his hands, his elbows resting on his legs. He groaned loudly but did nothing else. You put a hand on his back and rubbed soothing circles. His muscles tensed under your touch. You stood up on the couch and moved behind Flavio, taking a seat on the top of the back rest. Even though you knew that Flavio would have never let anyone do this, you went ahead and did it anyway. Without a word you began to massage your boyfriend's shoulders, trying to relieve the knots and tension.

"(y/n), no. Get down from the back of the couch," Flavio said slightly annoyed while turning his head to look at you. You shushed him by giving him a gentle kiss on the lips, and continued what you were doing before. He eventually began to lean into your delicate touch. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you kneaded them. The knots slowly dissipated over the course of thirty minutes. It was then that you noticed something completely off with your boyfriend's appearance. He wasn't wearing is signature rose tinted sunglasses or a scarf. That and his suit jacket was unbuttoned. Those were a big "no no" for him.

"Um, Flavio?" you asked a little unsure as to if you should ask your question.

"Sì?" he responded rather calmly, almost as if he was in a trance like state from you massage.

"I hate to ask, but what happened to your sunglasses and scarf? And why is your suit jacket unbuttoned? I thought you hated to have it hanging open."

"Oh, yes... That..."

"What happened?"

"Do you remember that model that ran out of here crying?"

"Yes."

"Well, she didn't like that we are together instead of her and me so she decided to try and seduce me into dumping you. That's why my suit jacket is unbuttoned."

"And your sunglasses and scarf?"

"She got mad because I said I wasn't going to leave you just because she doesn't like you. She then took my sunglasses, stomped on them, and then tore my scarf in two." Tears began to glide down his tanned face. "And they were my favorite ones too..."

"Oh Flavio, don't cry. It'll be okay sweetheart. Don't let her wrecking your possessions get you down." You pulled him into a side hug while wiping away his tears.

"That's not the reason I'm upset..."

"Then why are you upset?"

"I can't find a muse bella. I can't do anything without having a muse for my fashion designs."

"I'll help you find one. What about butterflies?"

"Been there, done that."

"Sea life?"

"That too."

"The sky during the night and daytime?"

"Sì bella, I've told you this before! I've done everything there is to do! I no longer have anything to draw inspiration from! My life is over!"

"Don't say that! There has to be something you haven't done yet."

Flavio shook his head as he looked at his shoes. He had indeed done everything there was to do in the fashion world. Or maybe he hadn't. The blond Italian looked over to you as you gazed out the window, deep in thought. The light bounced off of your (h/c) hair beautifully and illuminated your (e/c) eyes. He was right when he said it to you before; You had no bad angles. Flavio stood up with a huge smile on his face and grabbed you by the waist, lifting you off of the couch. He twirled you around the room before doing what he had done countless times to get you to go out to a fancy dinner with him. He kept you in the dip position as he laid a loving, passionate kiss on your lips. Your eyes opened in surprise but soon closed as you kissed him back. He broke the kiss with a thin trail of saliva still connecting the two of you. You wiped the the spit away from his and you lips and gave him a quizzical look.

"What was that for?" you asked.

"I just got an idea for my next clothing line," he replied as he helped you stand straight.

"You did? That's wonderful! What's your muse this time?"

"You." He pulled you in for another heated kiss. You broke the kiss this time which confused him.

"How did I help you with inspiration?"

"When you were trying to think of something that I have never made a clothing line out of before the light was hitting you perfectly, and then it hit me. You've been my muse all along. Every piece I made since meeting you was a result of something you've done or something we've seen together. With your permission, I would like to make my next fashion line based off of you and your wardrobe." Flavio held your hands tenderly while he gazed into your eyes.

"I would be honored to have you do that."

What you didn't expect to happen at that moment was Flavio getting down on one knee, still holding onto your left hand. He fished his right hand into one of the pockets on his pants and pulled out a small box encased in red velvet. The blond Italian gazed up to you from his position with an even bigger smile than before.

"(Y/n), my goddess and inspiration, I know I've showed my disliking to getting married in the past, but I'm past that. Amore mio, mi vuoi sposare?"

Those few words you waited for all your life had finally come. Spending time with Flavio in Italy forced you to learn Italian to a certain extent so you knew exactly what he said. You both had spent a week there on holiday with his cranky younger brother and a few of their friends and had gone out to dinner with them. A man asked a woman that one question in Italian in the restaurant you were all in, but you had to ask Flavio what it meant. He told you and you kept that phrase tucked deep in your mind just in case Flavio ever asked. And here he was asking you that four word question in his native tongue.

"Bella? Are you okay? You're crying," Flavio asked in a concerned tone after standing up. He wiped away a few of your tears with his thumb.

"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just so happy you asked me that I don't know what to say," you replied, crying even more.

"You could start by saying "yes"."

"What makes you so sure I'd say "yes"?"

"Well, I... I just thought that... You know... I'd ask... And I here you talk to (b/f/f/n) about it all the time..." Flavio looked down to his shoes again with a depressed look.

"Hey, I was just kidding." You cupped one of his cheeks with one of your hands and pecked his lips.

"So, is that a "yes"?"

"Yes, Flavio. I'll marry you."

"Good, you had me worried there for a second."

Flavio lifted your left hand and slid a 0.5 carat diamond ring on your ring finger. His hands sneaked their ways to your waist and pulled you closer to him. You shared a chaste kiss.

"Ti amo (y/n)," Flavio said.

"Ti amo troppo Flavio," you said back. "You do realize that the tabloids are going to explode when they find out, right?"

"Sì, but I'll have my muse with me every step of the way."

~Author's Note~

DreamsForDays here! My first reader insert ever! I'm kind of proud of it. I feel like I could have done a little better though. Oh, well. I can only improve, right? I figured I should do a 2p Romano reader insert first because I feel that he doesn't get enough love. Anyway, translation time!

Translations: (All Italian)

Bella - Beautiful

Sì - Yes

Amore mio, mi vuoi sposare? - My love, will you marry me?

Ti amo (y/n). - I love you (y/n).

Ti amo troppo Flavio. - I love you too Flavio.

That's all of the translations. I'll be writing 2p Italy's next. I hope you all will enjoy this series of one-shots and possibly two-shots. Thanks for reading! Feedback in the comments is always appreciated! Until next time!