Pasta love Mama!Reader x Papa! Italy x Child

Feliciano smiled to himself as he watched his beautiful wife ____ of 10 years sleep soundly.
“Happy Anniversary bella~” He whispered pecking her cheek as he quietly climbed out of bed.

He tiptoed to his son Valentino’s room knocking lightly on his door “Ve~ Tino, are you-a up yet?”

The brown haired boy rubbed the sleep out of his usually closed (e/c) eyes as he opened the door. “Sí papa. I’m up.”

“Bene, let’s go-a make-a your Mama’s breakfast. ~” The Oldest Italian sang as the men trotted down the wooden stair case of your beautiful Northern Italian home.

Valentino sighed as he followed his father “Papa do we always have to make pasta for mama?”

“Sí, mio bambino! That’s part of-a the story of-a how-a I’m met your mama! 10 years ago today!”

“Can I hear the story papa?” the small boy asked as he pulled a bag of flower from the pantry.

“Okay, but it’s pretty boring.” The man smiled as he got the olive oil from a high shelf. “ I was-a at the mall in-a Berlin with Japan and-Germany ~ eating pasta and-a we bumped into this bella ragazza…

*FLASHBACK BROUGHT TO YOU BY ROMANO’S MOSTACHE…FEAR IT!!!!~

You walked aimlessly in Berlin’s biggest mall; humming a little tune to yourself a spark of excitement rippled through you as you smelt the mouthwatering aroma of pasta! You followed the smell in hope of finding a decent Italian restaurant. You walked into someone causing both of you to fall to the floor.

“Ve~ I’m-a sorry bella, are you-a okay?” You heard a voice say as you looked up seeing a man-a very handsome man- with a noodle on his head extending his hand to you. You took it and the man helped you up.

“N-No it’s my fault!” you argued noticing the big pasta sauce stain on his shirt.

“It’s okay Ms.….” He shook his head

“____!”You blushed, realizing he wasn’t alone.

“Ciao _____! ~ I’m Feliciano, these are-a my BFF’s Germany~ and Japan!
~” He smiled gesturing to the men behind him.

“Umm…Feliciano may I ask you something?” you blushed.

“Sí, of course bella! ~”

“Where’d you get the pasta?” you asked pointing to his now empty bowl.

“I made it!” he sang, that’s when you knew you wanted to marry this man.

Over the next six months you’d begun dating the pasta making man and realized you had a lot in common…your love of pasta, kitties, white flags, sleep and hatred of work. You two made the perfect couple, there was only one problem-you were going back home soon.
Feliciano made you a meal of pasta and bought a ring, despite every one telling him it was too early to propose. He dropped to his knee during dinner and said ‘____, will you let me make you pasta every day of the remainder of your life?
’ You said yes, of course.

“And that’s-a the story of-a your mama and me!~” The Italian man smiled as he finished with the pasta.