Dating the World: Country x Reader

Queen of Epicness {Prussia}

Queen of Epicness {Prussia x Tsundere!Reader}

“If I’m the King of Awesome, then will you be my Queen of Epicness?”

Note: SURPRISE! ‘Queen of Epicness’ won out in the vote~! (Or at least on FanFiction it did :P) I totally thought ‘Flightless Bird’ would, but I guess not. That’s okay; this one seemed like more fun to write anyways!

So, Prussia… has been requested by a lot of people XD Both on here, FanFiction, and even DeviantArt. I can’t remember who requested him first T.T, so… I’ll just go with: Dedicated to anyone who loves that red-eyed King of Awesome~ XD …Oh, and  thanks so much to everyone who has read & commented! Hugs and kisses to all of you from Celine and the sexy boys of Hetalia! XDDD

“Mein gott, this was a long day.” Prussia mumbled to himself as he stepped into the locker room. It had just been another boring day at work. But, he was still cool as ever today, he believed.

Once he was inside, he walked over to his locker and opened it. With a sigh of pleasure, he began pulling off his uniform shirt.

Just as the tee was over his head, the door opened. Prussia glanced over and noticed Romano had walked in, who was still in his uniform. “Hey Prussia, the boss says you have to go out for one more delivery.” He stated half-heartedly, thumb-pointing behind him towards the hallway.

In return, Prussia threw him an ‘Are-you-freaking-kidding-me’ look. “What? No way! It’s ten minutes before my shift ends,” He smirked and playfully tossed his used shirt at the grumpy Italian’s face.

Now irritated, Romano pulled the shirt off his head. “It’s the orders or you’re fired, dammit.”  Wadding the shirt up into a ball, he over-hand threw it back to Prussia and turned to leave.

Prussia caught the ball of shirt just before it fell to the ground. As Romano was halfway out the door, he paused to say, “Italy’s already got the pizza ready.”

With a groan, Prussia slipped his Roman Empire’s Pizzeria shirt back on. Slamming his locker shut, he irritably stepped out of the locker room to pick up the last pizza for delivery.

Once he was in the kitchen, Italy handed him the box with a smile. Honestly, he couldn’t help but feel bad for him. His grandpa was the owner here, and yet he still took advantage of his grandson’s kindness and overworked him quite often. But Italy didn’t seem to mind—he loved making pizzas. Romano though, was different. He also happened to be the owner’s grandson, but he refused to work more than six hours a day and still expected a paycheck higher than minimum wage.

After Romano gave Prussia the address, he walked outside to one of the delivery cars, got in, and started it up. One last delivery, he thought. This one better be interesting.

-D-A-T-I-N-G-T-H-E-WO-R-L-D-

You turned up the volume on your laptop to its highest level. Jumping up, you sang at the top of your lungs, “SOOO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT WHAT YOU REALLY REALLY WANT~!”

Okay, everyone knows that song. And not just because you had been singing it for the past hour.

Third year of college? Finished it yesterday. Parents? Out of the house. You? Busy having a one-person party.

Dancing around the apartment in nothing but your panties and a comfy t-shirt, you continued to sing as loud as you could, “SO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT WHAT YOU REALLY REALLY WA-”

At that moment, a voice that sounded like your upstairs neighbor shouted out, “-SO I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT SO I CAN GO TO SLEEP!”