#latino! reader

[itsfairly]

yo hold on, i forgot Latine Heritage Month ended yesterday 🧍‍♀️ like i had a couple of fics here and there but maybe next time I'll plan something.

anyways, if you didn't catch them it's this one about Nanami and you dancing to a Latine playlist and this drabble about pan dulce and Nanami.

happy Latine Heritage Month y'all!

[dilf-docs]

All Roads Lead To Rome

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: your boyfriend swears he isn't annoyed at your little surprise visit on the set of gladiator II; you might have to help him release his anger, one way... or another.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (BARK BARK BARK), smut, p. in v., bit of exhibition kink cause they fuck on his trailer, he swears he's mad but he just wants head, oral (m. receiving), he also uses his armor and skirt while at it bc its hot and not bc i totally want that to happen to me or smth!!!, brat taming, orgasm denial, breeding and daddy kink lowkey, i'm so down bad for him so there's fluff!!! + pedro being whipped cause that's exactly what i want in my men, the cast makes cameos bc i love them!!! use of spanish (i'm latina so don't even try me), pedro wearing a skirt tehee

word count: 3,519 words

side note: i'm about as FERAL and horny as much as one could be!!! damn u pedro, making me walk out in the middle of class and walk on foot to the nearest theather for an early gladiator II screening (bc they're cheaper and i'm a jobless broke student lmao) that mind u it's my first solo trip to the movies but it's okay!!!! nobody interrupt me on my horny dilf hours amirite I TELL U that cinema was almost empty: just me, pedro and hey there's a spot if u wanna join mescal (look at my blog banner IYKYK) so yeah!!!! enjoy this porn lovechild that steemed from it; my pedro renaissance that'd been asleep since tlou dropped AWAKES (u don't get it, i literally watched narcos just for him) i'm so fr i need this man BIBLICALLY!!

"Lemme guess, that's her, right?"

Pedro looks up from his phone, slightly red and embarrassed. He would blame the color on the sun, and as an actor, fake his way out.

"No idea what you're talking about, Paul"

The young man chuckles.

"I mean, every break we get, you take your chair, sit the farthest and pull your phone with the most ridiculous grin I've ever seen. I'm afraid to tell you, friend, you aren't as slick as you think"

He leans back against the chair, covering his face with his large palm.

"At least I tried" he finds no point in lying anymore, "seems like I'm addicted, but if it wasn't for y/n, I wouldn't touch it"

"I'm curious, though" Paul scoots his chair closer, "who texts who? You or her?"

"Me" he answers, but then corrects himself quickly, a bit ashamed of how that makes him sound, "but it's mostly her first".

"Right" he doesn't sound convinced, rather curious and annoyed, something he's too old and tired for, "I don't believe you"

He's about to lock his phone, but the wallpaper (a selfie with you) would probably earn him another mock from Mescal.

"Too bad I don't need you to"

Before he can do so, the irish man yanks his phone away.

"Give it back!" he shouts, earning a few glances from the crew around them, "what are you, ten?"

"No, twenty-eight" they look like kids bickering. "No need to fight me, Mr. Pascal, they haven't taught us the new fighting choreography yet" he mocks, before the phone chimes; they both stop at the sound.

"What does this mean?" Paul asks. "Malta's nice" he reads out loud, "were you talking about possible future vacations? I might have to tag along"

He doesn't follow the man's joke, instead, looking at the message on your chat. Malta's nice, says the little cryptic message, and yes―it is cryptic, because you were just talking about missing each other and some other corny stuff he'd take to his grave. Not vacations, and certainly, not about the european island, which happens to also be the place were he's filming his latest movie.

"No, we weren't" he replies confused, "what do you think it means?"

"Well, obviously, you boys don't know anything" May pops up from behind, laughing.

"Were you eavesdropping?" he asks playfully, albeit, a little offended.

"No, you guys are just too loud" she replies nonchalant. "Besides, you aren't very good at hiding it, either"

"That's what I said!" Paul backs, laughing on his face.

"Stop being misterious and just drop it"

"It means" she pauses―laughing at her own little dramatic effect, "that you're getting a visit soon"

When you met Pedro, you were working in The Last Of Us. Nothing fancy, just part of the technical cast of the show: helping with the filming and stuff.

During those months, it was easy to find yourself falling for the main star (alongside Bella Ramsey), especially when you spent months behind a camera, capturing all of his perfect features; learning them by memory until you could draw them without seeing his face.

Yes, you had fallen for the older man, because it was as natural as breathing; easy as being alive―the fall so gentle and so easy, it was hard to know when the feelings started. You just woke up one day, feeling different.

You liked to act up―always had what you wanted, and times had changed (so it's not like he had to ask first): why not? Which is why during your last day of shooting you took some liquid courage on your veins and went up his way. It was at a little gathering the crew you've grown to call family organized, while wearing your favorite and tightest dress, that you approached him.

It surprised you that he even recognized you, but that's who he was: warm, welcoming and caring.

To augment the surprise, turns out he had eyed you already, but was too shy to do anything. Yes, the worlds most famous Chilean man. It did stroke your ego, and maybe that's why you feel like most of the time, you've got the upper hand on your relationship, despite the years in between.

Still, you feel like the last message you just sent was a bit too blunt. Now you sit at the tiny airport, pondering your next move.

You know your boyfriend isn't exactly the type to scold or get mad―despite his strong figure, but going against the only thing he asked you might test him. Which is why you feel nervous, despite the happiness around you, everyone in the airport looking straight out of a picture perfect summer edition magazine.

And your theory is proven exactly right when you arrive impromptu at the Gladiator II set: making heads turn and guards almost kick you out, thinking you're a fan.

"You don't get it!" you protest, "he's my boyfriend".

"Sure", they laugh on your face. "you're not the first to say that".

"She's not lying" oh, how you love that gravely voice. But not today: not when he sounds like a parent scolding a naive child. Not when his eyes bore into you, slightly irritated.

So now he's dragging you among the set, right to were his trailer is.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" you ask, puffing your cheeks out in annoyance. He keeps dragging you by the arm, without sparing a glance in your way. Who does he think he is? "I wanted to tell Paul he made me cry―twice. You know I don't play about Normal People and Aftersun"

"But you do seem to play about my orders" he grunts out, opening the door to his trailer. The sunlight reflects against the white, slightly bothering your eyes with its shine, contrary to your boyfriend's gloomy behaviour.

"Are you being serious right now? You're not my dad to scold me. I just wanted to surprise you" you stand still, refusing to get inside. Pedro knows your character tends to be stubborn, and thought he finds it hot to reel you up sometimes, there are other times where he can't just stand that juvenile spirit of rage you tend to have when things don't go the way you want them to. "What's gotten into you?"

"I could ask you the same" he mocks. "Get inside. Now"

"Rude" you scoff, but obey regardless, and he breathes out relieved you didn't do a scene like last time; he still can't show his face on that restaurant to this day.

"I thought you'd be happy to see me" you say a tad bit dissapointed, and Pascal feels the pissed off feelings clouding his brain start to dissipate.

"I do, amor" he sighs, "just hate to see you do things I tell you not to; waltzing in here like you own the place".

You don't see the mistake, though. What's wrong with wanting to do a little surprise? It's not like you were a stalker or something; just a very clingy girlfriend who happens to miss her boyfriend.

"So, you're not mad?" you venture, "tell me you're not embarrassed"

He looks at you, the fondness of his gaze betraying him.

"I'm not the one wearing a skirt while trying to sound intimidating" you joke while caressing the crook of his nose, knowing you always get on his good side. Being mad isn't something that lasts, "if anyone should be embarrassed, that's you"

"Are you saying I shouldn't wear one because I'm a man?" your boyfriend looks offended, "Have you forgotten the movie I'm starring in? People feared the skirt-wearing Roman army"

"Well, I'm not intimidated" you stand defiant, and something dark tints his brown eyes. You can feel the excitement begin pooling in your stomach.

"You're not?" he grips your wrists and yanks you to him, then holds your chin, tilting your head between his calloused fingers. "Well, cariño, you should be"

Your body slams against one of the trailers walls, and you have to suppress a whine.

"You must be punished for what you did today"

You give him a doe-eye look, pretending to be all innocent, as if you weren't enjoying the punishment.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I've been a good girl"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about" he clicks his tongue, "don't play dumb with me"

"I just came to visit you" you murmur, voice husky against his ear. He grunts, and with the proximity, his hard-on rasps against your bare legs, only partly covered by the flowy summer dress you're wearing, "is that so bad?"

"It is. Has sido mala, cariño" his hand travels down under your dress, carresing with his large palm the silhoutte of your ass. The rings on his fingers create a shock, cold metal against your warm sun-bathed skin. "Naughty girl"

"I promise I'll be good, papi" you purr, using that honeyed voice of yours that makes it hard: hard to say no and hard between his pants.

Pedro sits on a small couch he has inside the trailer, guiding you with his hand enveloped around yours, motioning you to follow with a care so soft, you'd doubt he's about to do to you what he is about to do to you. He pulls you across his lap, smiling (God, you love his smile) as your stomach presses against his tights.

"Don't worry" he breathes low, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'll make you a good girl. Tell me, aren't you?"

You swallow, "I am"

He moves the panties easily to the side, rubbing your pussy a little. He then spanks it softly, making you mewl at the sting.

Pedro continues to trace over it, "Are you sure about that?"

"N-no" you shiver in delight, resolve dissolving as quick as it came. "I'm naughty"

"It's good to be aware" he murmurs, "Dilo otra vez"

"I'm a naughty girl"

He lifts your head by your hair. "Tell me what you did"

"Disobeyed your orders, coming to the set" you whisper. He lets go of your hair, his hands traveling down again, slowly teasingly rubbing your pussy while he humms.

"You were a little brat, amor"

You whimpered and mewled in delight. "I was a very naughty brat"

He pushed his fingers inside you, plunging his fingers into your pussy.

"Look at you. You're soaking wet" he pumped his fingers in you, making you moan, "Is that why you came to see me? Couldn't wait any longer for daddy to be inside of you?"

You bucked a little, making him stop. He drags his fingers out, causing you to beg for him to go back.

"Answer my question you greedy thing" He leaned closer to your ear. "Did you need my cock this much?"

You whimper, "I do! Missed you so much"

He pushed his fingers back into you, provoking a moan out of you.

"You're always so needy for me" your core tenses, making you shiver. "How badly do you want me? Tell me"

You whimpered "Badly, papi"

"Say it" his face contorts in satisfaction at your pathethic display; crying little mess, "Who's cock, fingers and mouth make you feel good?"

You can't think at this point, your brain fuzzy and pussy hot, leaking. You kiss his lips, moaning against them, "you!"

"Just me, yes? Nobody else can make you feel this good?"

"No one!"

You involuntarily roll your hips to aid you in pleasure, yet Pedro stops you just before you can reach your orgasm.

"Little brat." he tuts, making you groan. "Did you think I'd let you? You were naughty today, baby"

You huff in annoyance, used to having your way.

"That's your punishment"

"But I'll behave" you mewl against his ear, "I promise"

“Good, because I'm planning on fucking your brains out” his hot breathe whispers in your ear seductively, trying his best not to slur the words at the drunken haze that your arousal provokes in him, "but you have to help me first"

You get on your knees, looking at the garment he's wearing. The skirt and general costume makes this all the more hot, mouth watering at the sight. You raise the skirt, glancing at the briefs; just seeing his dick strained against the fabric makes you wet in anticipation.

He sees the pleasure bore into your orbs, and before you do any dirty idea of yours, he's already warning:

"You have to take this off, what if we-"

"Alright" you cut him off, "but the skirt stays"

"Sigue, pues" he growls, voice low yet demanding, following you in your little game.

As you pull the briefs down, his erection springs out enthusiastically, slapping up against his lower abdomen. You shifted your gaze up to meet his, his eyelids heavy and his proud smirk driving you absolutely wild.

"That's right" he chokes out, "show me how much you missed it"

You give him a proud lick, and Pedro hisses at the moment his preseminal fluid goes in between your hungry lips.

Your tongue darts to the head of his cock, running over it several times before bobbing your head down, taking most of him in your mouth. He keeps praising as you pump the base of his cock with your hand. Your head bobs, yet you peek up to hear Pascal's little sounds and facial expression, a motivation so intimate in the way his brows furrow and eyes roll, mouth agape at your movements while his lip suck on those pretty lips of his. It makes you keep going. With every bob you take as much of him in your mouth as you can, before slowly moving your way back up to the tip, increasing your suction the closer to his head you got. A throaty moan escapes the man above you when you now focus on the final lick, making him closer to coming, all while maintaining eye contact the entire way through.

"Don't do that" he rasps, yanking you by the hair again, as of punishment, but he knows you enjoy it, "you promised you'd be good"

You can't answer, so instead, you reach the head of his cock again, and now his eyes roll back, mumbling profanities that sound like heaven.

"Do you want them to hear us, brat? Qué necia eres" he manages to chastise while moaning.

You feel his dick stuck in your throat, and the way he's about to come; you think that after some time dating, you know him well enough.

You're about to leave with your mouth when he stops you.

"No" your eyes open in shock, "what? Did you think your punishment is over?" Pedro laughs, "don't look at me like that. Like you have never done it before"

He keeps you in place by the hair, the rings prickling against your scalp. You feel his muscles tense up, and before you can think anything else thick and hot shots of cum invade your mouth, making it sticky and warm.

"Don't pretend you don't like it" his voice goes dark, husky. "Swallow it all. Te han enseñado a no desperdiciar nada, ¿verdad? Show me your good manners, then"

When you pull out, your throat feels raspy.

"You gotta reward me" you cough out.

"I promised, didn't I?" his fingers trace your face delicately, with adoration.

"It's all about duty, General Acacius" you purr, and the dick springs out again. Hard.

"Princess..." he warns.

"For the glory of Rome" you joke and laugh, then cough, as your throat is still sore.

"Have you been reading my script?" as you avoid to answer, he just chuckles, "ay, nena"

"C'mere" he motions, and you sit on his lap again. Pedro lifts your dress, exploring the curve of your ass. There's anticipation as he hooks his finger around the waistband of your panties, pulling them down to access your core.

"Fuck" you squirm at his touch, grinding your freed cunt against his hard cock. He grabs you by the hip, adjusting you right on his lap.

"You taste so good" he kisses down your throat, ending at the chest were your tits peak.

"Want them?" you offer, pulling your dress down. He kisses them, gently nipping at your perked up nipples.

A wave of pleasure courses through you, and with whines and moans, you show how desperate you are, the hunger making the meal taste better. After all those weeks missing him, you just want him to fuck you senseless.

His lips are rosy and swollen against yours, mouths clashing; starved of the yearned contact. Truth is, no matter how much you know how to touch yourself, it'll never be the same as having his hard cock tear through your tight folds.

Pedro easily aligns his leaking cock with your uncovered pussy, all while mantaining the kiss. He pushes down on you, your dripping cunt taking all of his rock-hard cock, fingers holding onto the soft brown grey sprinkled locs.

"Pedro" you cry out his name, full of ecstasy as the stretch burns so sweetly. His low grunts only fuel your desire.

You trace with your eyes his body, now bare without the upper part of the costume: his pecs and abs, flexing with every pump. With now free hands, your fingers travel to softly caress his stomach, even if your tits are jiggling and the pace is rather frenetic.

"I missed you so much" you pout.

"Missed how you look" you clash your lips onto his, the adoration translating through the smile you press against, a trail of saliva that symbolizes how interwined you are, "you always look so fucking good"

"I missed you too" he whispers out, getting tired.

He's reminded of his old age, forgetting about it as soon as you two kiss, because you bring out a stamina he thinks he doesn't have anymore; almost animalistic. His bones creak and adding the tiring filming day under the hot sun, he feels his body start to give up, the orgams closer and closer.

He blushes, feeling like a stupid school boy with a crush. What did he even do to deserve you? Never thought a pretty young wild thing like you would even spare a glance on his way, but now you're taking all of his cock inside with such greed yet loom into his eyes with a love he's only dreamed of.

You're real, and his.

As soon as those words leave your mouth your orgasm spills over him, some of it dripping onto the skirt, making him curse. You can't stop, still meeting his thrusts halfway, despite your trembling body after reaching your high.

"Mierda" he groans against your mouth,

You feel yourself collapsing on top of him, the weight of the jet lag catching up.

"Getting tired, baby?" he coos. "Shit, and I thought I was old"

"You are" you reply back; you can never not have the last word. And he lets you, because, God, doesn't he love you? He pretends to look offended by it, but the way your eyes shine tell him you didn't mean it that way. "You and your white hairs" tracing over his moustache, a soft hand combing through his locks, "These wrinkles... don't you know how much I love them? how much I love you?"

"And you have no idea how much I love you" he squeezes his eyes shut, feeling it coming through. "God, wanna make you mine. Sólo mía" his pace slows. It's coming, and yes, you will take it all. "Wanna make you a baby, mami. Want you to take it all like the good girl you are"

When he comes, filling you with burning hot cum until you feel like you might burst, you're numb. But there's a feeling so content that pools warmth in your chest, that you can't say anything else, resting your head against his bare chest, both covered in sticky sweat.

"No sé cómo voy a explicar esto" he speaks through ragged breathes, and you can only smirk, "a squirted and cummed roman skirt".

"That isn't my problem" he scoffs, and you feel your head rise against the movement, earning a laugh out of you, "I'm not part of the movie"

"You'd sure think so, with the way you walked in here"

You roll your eyes, face hidden against his chest, "can you let that go?"

"You're right" he pulls you closer to him, hand enveloping you behind your bare back. The quiet doesn't bother you as you lie closer to his chest, his heartbeat the only thing you need to be at peace, "I think punishment time is over. Think you've learned your lesson"

"Then, how about we go out? I've heard Malta's beaches are pretty"

"Relájate, cariño. Seems you've gotten your energy back" he quips, then kisses your forehead. "We need to wait for everyone to get out"

"That embarrased you are of me?" you joke.

"No" he can already imagine his fellow cast members making fun of him, starting with Paul and Joseph when they see you and Connie who will totally notice the fun sticky stains on the costume, "but embarrased of the explanation I'll have to give"

[leovenuslatina]

𝒍𝒆𝒕'𝒔 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒐𝒏 ✶⋆.˚

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

THIS READING IS 18+ MDNI

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

💓what you FS does to turn you on💓

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

-trying something new here-

₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊this is just a reminder that tarot isn’t permanent or set in stone YOU decide how your life goes no one or nothing else now take a deep breath and choose the pile that calls to you ₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊˚⊹

(dont worry i’m still answering asks ill just i’m sending them privately now)

💋 tip ur reader 💋

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ ₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Pile One - Ace of Wands, Wheel of Fortune, Knight of Wands, Six of Pentacles

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

- Right off the bat your FS is always horny i don’t even know what it is it could be you or it could be that they just have so much pent up energy and you’re the only one he feels comfortable letting it all out with.

- there’s so much wand energy here and i keep hearing that song “thinking with my d!6k” like literally he just cannot keep it in his pants for you.

- to turn you on he gets all up in your space he’ll come up behind you and grind himself on you make sure you feel just how excited or horny he is for you

- your FS will whisper all the things he wants to do to you and what he wants you to do to him he’s very good at telling you what to do. very dominant

- your FS will give you gentle touches all over your body he’ll tell you how pretty or gorgeous you are and how much he’s so in love with you

- he’s very obsessed with being touchy-feely with you to turn you on

- he may even give you long massages to turn you on. he’ll probably want to relax FA you and make you guys feel close he wants you to know that it’s not just about sex when the two of you are being intimate he genuinely just loves being close to you 🥹💓

- to turn you on he’ll hold you very close he’ll definitely loveeeeeee love love having you in his lap. i just keep seeing his hands all over you. squeezing and touching and grabbing at whatever they can.

- i’m also getting your FS is such a freaking tease ! to turn you on your FS will literally touch you all over EXCEPT for exactly where you need him most.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Pile Two - Page of Wands,Queen of Wands, The Fool, Judgment

ᡣ𐭩₊˚.⋆⁺₊

- Your Fs is very golden retriever vibes when they wanna turn you on there’s sloppy kisses all over your face and neck they’ll tell you how much they love and miss you and how they want to be near you and in you.

- their hands will be all over you trying their hardest to get your close off when he’s wants you to want him they’ll be so rushed to get you under them

- the two of you will have a very exciting and active sexual relationship and you’ll always be all over each other people around you think it’s gross but you guys are just so physically attractive to each other.

- to turn you on your future spouse will use your kinks and fantasies to his advantage he knows them very well because he knows you very well and use them to get you in the mood

- they’ll use your fantasies and kinks to get in your head and make you melt under him

- Pile 2 your FS will take turning you on as a game (not in a bad way) they’ll think it’s so easy to get you all excited and needy for him.

- they take a really relaxed approach to turning you on he likes to take his time he likes to make you feel as needy for him as he can as much as possible

- i think your FS knows you so so well that they’ll know all the little things that turn you on

- for example if you like his arms he’ll like roll his sleeves up slowly or if you like his voice he’ll whisper random things in your ear you know just to get you going

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

Pile Three - Justice, King of Cup, Page of Cups

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

- Your FS IS FINE ASF 😤😤 like literally straight outta romance novels like riding on a white horse shirtless kind hot 🥵

- they’re very equal when it comes to freakin anything you do to them they’ll wanna do to you but 10000x better

- i think you’ll always be pretty turned on when you’re with or around your partner just because of how beautiful they but to get you going anymore they’ll pretty much follow your lead

- your Fs is the type of person to mirror you exactly they won’t do anything they think you don’t like or aren’t 100% into

- Your FS may or may not be your first sexual encounter or partner if so they teach you and show you what kinda things you like and they’ll help you explore your sexuality in all ways

- if your FS isn’t your first time they will definitely be your best and will show you just how good sex can be

- To turn you on your FS they will massage you calm you down relax you.

- you maybe the kind of person that has a specific set of needs before hopping right into bed and your FS will be very understanding about that

- Your FS Will always make sure you’re comfortable and happy and consenting before getting anything started

- Your FS is very understanding about any sort of situation you come from they won’t judge you or make you feel bad for your past or anything you make like or want him to do for you or with you.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

[luviisabella]

Afro-Latina!Reader who loves to get a silk press when it’s winter and Bakugou gets grouchy because he “misses your natural hair”.

Afro-Latina!Reader who speaks to Bakugou in Spanish and smiles when he understands her (he loves it).

Afro-Latina!Reader who when greeting people kisses their cheek and the first time Bakugou saw this he couldn’t help but stare blankly in confusion wondering “Did my girlfriend just kiss another guy in front of me ?” After you explained it was a greeting he kept the mental note.

Afro-Latina!Reader who puts Bakugou onto coquito and it was LIFE changing for him. He never had an alcoholic drink this sweet. When he asked what was in it you told him it was a ‘secret’. Now every Christmas he’s excited when you mention you’re going to make it.

Afro-Latina!Reader x Bakugou Katsuki; who does his best to indulge in his pretty girlfriend’s culture while she happily tells him all about it.

[twoplayergaymers]

BMF- H.Sero

Sero’s a flirt, but he might just win you over

Notes: Barely proofread, Latino Sero, college au, quirkless au, drinking&underage drinking, weed, suggestive, sfw but implied smut

You’d heard the rumors about Hanta Sero— hottest guy on campus, charming, flirtatious, and a certified fuckboy. Sure, you knew exactly who he was. He was friends with Denki, your best friend’s boyfriend, and yeah, he was undeniably hot. But you’d never admit that. Lucky for you, he’s always kept his distance—until now.

Denki’s 21st birthday. You’d graciously accepted the invitation, finding it a great opportunity to spend time with your best friend, Kyoka and her boyfriend whom you actually adore. House parties weren’t necessarily your thing, but a drink or two in you were always tipsy enough to socialize with strangers.

You’d shown up early, gift bag in hand along with a bottle of some cheap liquor you’d found in the bottom of your closet, shit, it was unopened and one thing your mama always told you was never to show up somewhere empty handed. If no one drank it it’d live in the bottom of your closet again until the next pregame.

“Y/n! You’re early!” Denki called from the kitchen, you having let yourself in to the small off campus home he shared with your best friend. “I come bearing gifts!” You say with a smile, brandishing the cheap vodka and gift bag in each hand. Denki chuckles and gestures to a table with a brightly colored cloth, you set both things down and move to wrap your arms around him in a hug. “Happy birthday denks” you say with a wide grin. “Came early, figured you two’d need help setting up?” He nodded with a laugh. “This is why we keep you around,” he joked, earning a snicker and roll of the eyes from you.

“I’ve got hands, where ya need me?” you ask, wiggling your fingers in mock enthusiasm. “Wanna blow up balloons? Helium tanks in the back. I think it’s just that and hanging up the other decorations. Kyo’s picking up the food, Eijirous bringing ice” you nod, heading to their back patio to grab the helium tank.

Fifteen minutes of struggling with the helium tank, fighting to tie the damn knots, and there were balloons scattered all over the ceiling. You huff to yourself, starting to gather them into neat bundles and tie them to the balloon weights, scattering the clusters around the house. By the time you’re taping the last of the decorations on the wall, Kyoka and Eijirou are walking in with plenty of food, their hands full of aluminum trays

You quickly drop what you’re doing and rush to help. “Do you need—”

Before you can finish, Kyoka cuts you off. “’S okay, Y/N.” She nods toward the door, and that’s when you spot him.

Hanta’s in the doorway, carrying what you assume to be the last of the food. Your eyes meet his—those round, brown eyes—and you freeze.

You try to look away, but it’s like your feet are stuck to the floor, caught somewhere between surprise and… something else. His lips curl into that signature smirk of his, the one you’ve seen from across the room at parties but never up close.

You quickly break the eye contact, your hands again fumbling with the last of the decorations, standing on your toes to tape the corner of the banner.

“Need a hand?” he asks, his voice smooth, teasing, like he knows exactly what effect he has on you.

You snap out of your daze and clear your throat, trying to mask the unexpected flutter in your chest. “I got it,” you say, forcing a casual tone, even though your heart’s racing a little faster than you’d like.

Hanta doesn’t budge. “Sure about that?” he presses, stepping closer. Before you can protest again, his hands are on your waist, lifting you effortlessly. Heat rushes to your face—and somewhere else—and you curse yourself for it.

You press the corner of the banner down as quickly as you can, silently willing him to set you back on solid ground and walk away. You’re not doing this. You’re not playing his game.

But he doesn’t walk away. Instead, he lingers just long enough for you to feel the press of his hands against your waist, his breath warm against your ear as he says, “There. All set.”

Your feet hit the floor, but the heat in your face doesn’t fade. You turn sharply, trying to focus on anything other than the way your body reacted to him, but he’s still there, that smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Don’t mention it,” he says, like he’s done you some grand favor, and before you can snap back, he’s walking away, casually joining Denki in the kitchen.

You feel your jaw tighten and your fists clench lightly. You’re not doing this, you remind yourself, glancing toward him out of the corner of your eye. He’s laughing at something Denki said, completely at ease, like he didn’t basically just feel you up in the middle of the living room.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and slip into the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face to chase away the heat that lingered from your cheeks down to your lower abdomen. Fuck. Why did he have this effect on you? Had it really been that long since someone touched you? You stare at your reflection in the mirror, gripping the edges of the sink as if it could steady you. No. You’re not doing this. You know who he is. You know what he’s like. You’re not going to be another notch on Hanta Sero’s belt.

It’s not long before others start arriving and the party kicks into full swing, people scatter across the house. Talking, drinking, dancing, playing stupid card games. Out back on the grass, a group of guys you recognize from Denki’s e-sports club are locked in an intense game of beer pong.

You’re a drink and a half in, standing near the kitchen with Mina, catching up like no time had passed. “So,” Mina says, leaning in close with a sly grin, “are you going to tell me why Sero hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night?”

Your stomach drops, and you nearly choke on your drink. “What are you talking about?” you ask, feigning innocence as you take another sip to cover your reaction. The truth is, you felt eyes on you and you figured maybe, just maybe they might belong to him. You told yourself if you never turned around you’d never know, you’d be safe from whatever spell those brown eyes had on you.

Mina raises an eyebrow. “Oh, don’t play dumb, y/n. I’ve seen him looking over here this entire conversation. It’s almost cute, well, if it wasn’t Hanta.”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. “Yeah, okay. I’m sure Hanta Sero, campus flirt extraordinaire, is suddenly interested in me. He’s probably just bored.”

Mina giggles, pushing you playfully, “be careful n/n, that man doesn’t play fair and he looks like he wants to eat you right now.”

You scoff, shaking your head as if to shake off the thought. “I’m not playing into anything, Mina. I know his type, and I’m not interested.” You wish it were the whole truth, because deep down, in the back of your mind, a part of you wondered if the rumors were true—Hanta Sero, effortlessly strong, attractive, and supposedly great in bed.

“Mmhm,” Mina hums knowingly, but before you can argue, someone calls her name, and she disappears into the crowd.

You glance around the room, and that’s when you catch it—Sero’s gaze, locked on you from across the kitchen. He tilts his head ever so slightly, the ghost of a smirk playing on his lips, like he’s daring you to look away first.

Shit. You down the rest of your drink, you’re not nearly drunk enough for this. You practically dart to the table, cluttered with bottles of liquor and various mixers. Your eyes scan the options—too much stuff you’d never touch. Your hand goes for the cheap vodka you’d brought, fingers just wrapping around the bottle when a familiar voice makes you jump.

“You drink that cheap shit, ma?” You turn, and of course it’s Hanta, looking at you with a raised brow, he nods his head towards the bottle of vodka your hands now wrapped around.

“gets me drunk, don’t care right now” you mutter back, about to unscrew the cap when he pulls the bottle from your hands. “Let me make you a drink” he offers, his voice low, his gaze never leaving yours. “What’re you gonna put in it?” you ask, half-joking, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in your chest.

You don’t think he likes the joke; his brows knit together, and the easy smirk falters. Quickly, you raise a hand, clarifying, “Kidding! I’m kidding.”

His expression softens, and you force a small laugh, nodding. “Alright, fine. Make me something.” You tell yourself the banter is fine, right? His hands reach for a familiar shaped bottle before you yelp in protest. “No, no, no, I don’t drink brown liquor” you dont usually, and especially not tonight you don’t. Brown liquor makes people do things they don’t want to. Things like ending up in Hanta Seros bed. Not happening.

“That’s why you’re drinking that shit, ay bendito” he responds, his face almost in a mocking pout and it does things to you that it absolutely shouldn’t. “Fine.” He speaks again “what do pretty girls like you drink then, hm?”

You bite back the smile creeping onto your face at his words. “Tequila,” you respond, keeping your gaze locked on his. He chuckles. “How come all the pretty girls are into tequila? Shit’s nasty.” You hit him playfully. “Let me live!”

He raises his hands in mock surrender, a grin still tugging at his lips. “Alright, alright. Tequila it is. But don’t blame me if you regret it later.”

“I think I’ll take my chances, thanks,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes.

He scans the table and frowns. “No tequila.”

Before you can respond, he smirks. “You’re lucky I know where Denks hid the liquor they didn’t want anyone touching. Wait here.”

You blink, and he’s already gone, returning a moment later with a bottle of tequila—definitely not a cheap one. He starts unscrewing the top, and you open your mouth to protest.

“I’ll buy him a new one. Relax, hermosa,” he cuts you off smoothly, his voice low and teasing.

You huff, crossing your arms as you lean against the counter. “You better, or I’m not taking the fall for you.”

He chuckles, pouring the tequila into a shaker with ease. “Noted. But let’s be real, you wouldn’t sell me out. You’re too sweet for that.”

Your eyes narrow. “You don’t know me.”

“Oh, don’t I?” He flashes that signature smirk, and you hate the way it makes your stomach flutter.

He tosses in some ice, a splash of lime juice, and something else you don’t catch before shaking the drink with practiced confidence. “You’re too nice to be a snitch, but also too stubborn to admit you’re impressed right now.”

You scoff, though you can’t deny the latter part. “Are you always this full of yourself?”

“Only when I’m right,” he fires back. You lean against the counter, pretending not to notice how effortless he looks, even while pouring drinks. His sleeves are rolled up just enough to show off his forearms, and you hate yourself for noticing.

“Salt or no salt?” he asks, breaking the silence.

“Sugar” you answer quickly, trying to focus on anything but the way his fingers move as he prepares the drink.

“Figures,” he mutters with a smirk, pouring the drink into a glass and handing it to you. “Try it.”

You take the glass, eyeing him suspiciously before taking a sip. Damn it. It’s good. Really good.

“See?” he says, leaning a little closer. “Told you I got you.”

You roll your eyes again, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. “Alright, not bad. Maybe Denki won’t kill you after all.”

He laughs, and you hate the way the sound forms goosebumps on your skin. “Denks loves me, we’ve been bros a long time, he’ll get over it. I’m replacing more than I even took”

“Let’s hope so” you fire back, taking another sip of the drink, trying not to make it obvious how much you enjoy it, he doesn’t need the ego boost.

Hanta leans against the counter next to you, his shoulder brushing yours. It’s subtle, but enough to make your skin tingle. “You worry too much. Loosen up, hermosa. It’s a party.”

“Who said I’m wound up?” You ask, brow raised. “I dunno..” he trails off for a second “..maybe the fact that you’re ready to bolt whenever I look your way. Do I scare you, sweetheart?” his voice dropping just a bit. It’s not teasing anymore; it’s softer, like he’s trying to figure you out. “What are you so afraid of?”

You hesitate, gripping your glass a little tighter. “I’m not afraid of anything. I just…” You trail off, searching for the right words.

He waits, watching you with a patience you didn’t expect. “Just what?”

“I know your type,” you finally say, your voice steady. “And I’m not interested in playing your game.”

For a moment, he’s quiet, like he’s considering your words. Then, he leans just a little closer, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “What if it’s not a game this time?”

You roll your eyes again, not responding and instead take some more sips of your drink, big ones. Because he’s too close, his voice is too smooth and he smells too good.

The drinks catch up on you, fast. Suddenly you feel the familiar grip of the liquor, the room gets hot, like really hot and you grip the counter to steady yourself.

“Woaaah, careful, sweetheart” Hanta says, his hands help steady you. “Let’s get you some fresh air” you nod, and he guides you out the back door, sitting you on a lawn chair.

The warm fresh summer air feels nice, it’s a little more grounding. You take some deep breaths.

“You good?” He breaks the silence, looking at you and it’s almost like his eyes are laced with genuine concern. You nod. “maybe I should drink some-“ “water?” He cuts you off, handing you a bottle. “Grabbed it on the way outside. Drink up, pretty”

You do, not because he said so but because the you who might not wake up with a raging hangover tomorrow will thank you.

You sit there together, your eyes closed feeling the night breeze. Your eyes open as you hear a click of a lighter. He’s got a joint between his lips, his hand shielding the flame. He takes a long drag, leaning his head back to blow out the smoke.

You watch him for a moment, the way the ember glows in the dark, the smooth, practiced way he exhales. It’s annoyingly attractive, but you shove the thought down.

“Want some?” he offers, holding the joint out to you, his fingers brushing yours lightly as you take it.

“Don’t tell me it’s laced,” you quip, bringing it to your lips.

He smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Would I do that to you, hermosa?”

“Yes,” you deadpan, exhaling a cloud of smoke. He laughs, and for a second, the sound cuts through the haze in your head, grounding you more than the air had.

You pass it back, letting the quiet settle between you. The muffled sounds of the party drift through the open door, but out here, it’s calm, almost peaceful.

“I’m not as bad as you think, you know,” he says suddenly, his voice softer now.

You glance at him, raising a brow. “Is that what you tell all the girls?”

He shakes his head, taking another drag before handing the joint back to you. “Nah. Just you.”

It’s hard to tell if he’s joking or not, but the way he’s looking at you—steady, unflinching—it makes your chest tighten in a way that scares you more than it should.

You blow out a slow stream of smoke, keeping your tone light. “You don’t have to try so hard, you know.”

“Maybe I want to.”

That catches you off guard, and you hate how it makes your stomach flip. You look away, focusing on the stars instead. “I don’t know what you’re expecting from me, Sero, but—”

“I’m not expecting anything,” he cuts in, his voice low but firm. “I just… like talking to you. That’s all.”

You don’t respond right away, the words settling in your chest. It feels dangerous, letting yourself believe him even for a second. But for now, with the warm breeze, the weed, the tequila, and his stupidly soft gaze, you let the moment linger.

And it has to be just that, the liquor, the weed, because you’re admiring the way he looks in the moonlight, and god is he attractive and your gaze falls so his lips and—

“There you are!” Mina’s voice cuts through the quiet, calling from the open back door. “We’re gonna sing happy birthday!”

Your head snaps toward her, eyes slightly wide, silently pleading with her not to tease you for this later. You push yourself to your feet quickly, brushing past Hanta without a glance.

That was too close. That’s enough talking to him.

You weave through the crowd and join everyone in the kitchen, settling yourself between Kyoka and Mina. Denki’s standing on the other side of her, smiling at the brightly decorated cake set before him. She lights the candles, and the room erupts into a drunken rendition of happy birthday, followed by cheers as Denki blows out the flames and makes his wish.

With a grin, he begins slicing the cake into neat slivers, leaving the pieces on the table with forks for anyone to grab. Cake’s never really been your thing, so you let the others dig in, opting instead to lean against the counter and finally catch up with Jiro for the first time tonight.

You and Jiro talk about everything and nothing—your classes, some ridiculous TikTok she sent you earlier, and gossip about who’s hooking up with who at the party. It’s easy, familiar, and you’re finally starting to relax.

That is, until her eyes flick over your shoulder, and she smirks. “Looks like someone’s looking for you.”

You don’t need to turn around to know who she means. “Don’t.”

“What? I’m just saying.” She shrugs innocently, but the grin on her face says otherwise.

You glance over your shoulder anyway, and there he is, leaning against the doorway with a lazy, lopsided smile. Hanta catches your gaze like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and for a moment, the noise of the party fades into the background.

She nudges your side. “Why not shoot your shot? He’s kinda fine.”

You glare at her, trying not to laugh. “you say that about all your boyfriends friends?”

“liquor makes me honest”

“Y/N!” Denki’s voice cuts through your protest as he throws an arm around your shoulder, effectively dragging you away from Kyoka’s teasing. “C’mon, we’re starting a game of King’s Cup. You in?”

You nod quickly, grateful for the distraction, even if you can still feel Hanta’s eyes on you as you follow Denki into the living room.

You settle into the circle of friends, the familiar sounds of clinking cups and loud laughter filling the air as the game of King’s Cup kicks off. Denki explains the rules to a few new people, but you zone out for a moment, glancing back toward the doorway where Hanta’s still standing. His gaze meets yours again, and you feel that familiar pull—like he’s daring you to make the first move.

Shaking off the feeling, you take a sip of your drink, trying to focus on the game. When it’s your turn, you draw a card from the deck, and the room falls quiet as you hold it up. “Ace,” you announce, and the group erupts into groans and playful complaints.

“Waterfall,” Denki says, smirking.

You roll your eyes, but start drinking anyway. The rules are simple—everyone starts drinking, and you can only stop when the person to your right stops. You try to keep your focus on the game, but you can’t help but notice Hanta weaving through the crowd, moving closer to where you’re sitting.

“Careful,” Jirou whispers, leaning in. “I think he’s coming your way.”

You take another gulp, trying to act casual, but your heart races just a little. It’s not like you can avoid him forever, but you’re not sure if you’re ready for whatever’s about to happen.

As the game goes on, you can’t shake the feeling of Hanta’s presence. He’s not even doing anything overt—just casually chatting with people, laughing, and making his way through the room with that same relaxed confidence. But every so often, you catch him glancing in your direction, his eyes lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

Finally, it’s your turn again. You draw another card, heart skipping a beat as you see it’s the dreaded “King.” The room goes silent, everyone watching you.

“Alright,” you say, trying to mask your unease, “time to fill the cup.” You grab your drink and pour some into the middle cup, your gaze flicking back to Hanta as you do. He’s still looking at you, leaning against the wall with that same lazy smile. The tension between you two feels thicker than before.

You hear him laugh with some other people in the room, but it only serves to make you more aware of his presence. The game continues around you, but you can’t shake the feeling that he’s watching you—waiting for something.

The rest of the game passes in a blur. You laugh at all the right moments, throw your cards in the air when someone gets a bad card, but underneath it all, you’re hyper-aware of Hanta’s presence just across the room. Every time you catch his gaze, you quickly look away, trying to focus on the game and ignore the drop in your stomach.

Unsurprisingly, Denki wins the game. “Looks like I’m the King after all!” Denki announces with a grin, holding up his hands in mock triumph.

Everyone groans good-naturedly, but you can’t help but feel relieved it’s over. You take a deep breath, your nerves slowly easing as the night continues on. Everything’s hitting you, all the liquor, the weed, but honestly you feel great.

Mina drags you onto the dance floor. The music pulses around you, the beat vibrating in your chest as you move with Mina. It’s a carefree moment, your laughter echoing in the room, but beneath it, there’s that undeniable tension. Hanta’s gaze burns into you from across the room, his eyes never leaving you as you dance.

You meet his stare, challenging him without a word. With every sway of your hips, you feel his eyes follow, hungry, intense. Your hands move, tracing along your own body, slow and deliberate, knowing he’s watching, waiting.

It’s almost like a game—one you said you wouldn’t play, one he swore he wasn’t playing. But the pull between you is magnetic, and for the first time tonight, you feel like you’ve got the upper hand. You can almost hear him groan under his breath, the way his jaw tightens, but you don’t break eye contact.

Mina’s beside you, oblivious to the silent standoff between you and Hanta, lost in her own world of dancing. You, however, can’t stop the heat rising in your chest. You’re not sure who’s winning this game, but you’re certain you’re not losing. Not yet.

You smirk at him, then turn your body away, breaking the eye contact as you continue to dance with Mina. This game, teasing him, is fun—but you’re still focused on dancing with your girl.

The song ends and some random is grabbing minas hand, beckoning her to dance with him, she looks back at you silently before you laugh and nod in approval, she gives you an apologetic “sorry for ditching you!” smile and lets the boy pull her away

Another song plays, one you love so you dance by yourself, almost forgetting about Hanta until you feel strong hands on your hips. You turn your head slightly and there he is behind you, guiding your hips against him to the music and for once you don’t run, you let your body relax into his.

He’s holding a bottle in one of his hands and you reach for it before he pulls it back. “You said you don’t like it dark.” He raises a brow. “Well, I do now” you respond, trying to pull the bottle from him. Who cares, that shit about mixing liquor is a myth anyway. He stills your body, unscrewing the cap.

“Open” he commands. You do, tilting your head back as he pours a shot straight into your mouth. The liquor runs down your throat, and you swallow with a grimace. He then reaches up, wiping the spill from your mouth with his thumb, his touch lingering.

Your gaze meets his again and you let your head fall back to his shoulder, still grinding against him to whatever song was playing now. He leans his head down, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers, “You look so good like this.”

You giggle in response, pressing your body against his harder and he starts to pepper kisses on your neck. Before you can stop it a sound erupts from the back of your throat. You shouldn’t be doing this.

You’re silently cursing Mina for leaving you, but you know it’s not her fault. It’s not her fault because you’re tired of denying that you want this. You want him.

“I guess you win” you whisper back to him, he raises his head to look you in the eye, you break the gaze, looking at his lips again, Inching closer. Fuck it. You let your lips crash against his.

The kiss is sloppy, drunken, all teeth and tongue but somehow the way his hand caresses the side of your face is so intimate, the way the other holds the back of your head is gentle.

You spin, to face him, easing the strain on your own neck and let your arms wrap around his. His hands trail slowly down your body, landing on your ass. Of course.

You both pull away for air, eyes locking again, you lips kiss swollen, face flushed, his lips trail kisses sdown your neck again and you pull him off, eyes silently beckoning him. His eyes scan your face, looking for any hint of regret. It’s like you know, because you nod reassuringly and he’s grabbing your hand and leading you to the spare bedroom in the house, the one you’d be sleeping in tonight even if it wasn’t with Hanta.

He’s pushing you against the door, closing and locking it, murmuring how he “finally gets to have you.” You’d question it, but It feels like fire is igniting in your entire body because, god you wanted this. You always did.

You let his hands explore you, feel you, ignite fire on your skin. There’s more to him, you know there is, and right now you don’t care about his reputation, you just want him.

You wake up hours later, wrapped in sheets and Hantas limbs, his warm body coaxing you back to sleep but you can’t ignore the dull ache of your head.

Your hand blindly searches the nightstand for your phone, 5:30am.

Your gaze falls on the raven haired boy sleeping beside you, arm sprawled across your body holding you almost protectively. You blink, recalling the events of the night. Maybe he was telling the truth, maybe he’s different, there’s more to him.

The thoughts fly back in forth in your brain as you try to rationalize. You wish you could believe him. Hanta Sero, the fuckboy, the player.

You blink again and you’re outside, the sun starting to rise and you step into an uber.

You told him, you’re not playing his game.

——

A/n: YOUNG AND HE FINE AND HE TALL AND HE HANDSOMEEEE. Feeding sero nation 🫡 also hehe me when I said I’d write part 2 to a sign of affection and then I wrote this instead

Tags: @mimzyu @beebunsx

[chrisisvbun]

I've been thinking about Logan witn and Argentinian boyfriend (since I'm argentinian), like the dynamic and all.

At first, I think that you would speak to him in Spanish and of course, he wouldn't get it, and like he did when Laura spoke Spanish, he would get slightly pissed.

"¿Quién es mi gordito hermoso?" (Who's my pretty little fatty?) (I promise this is okay.) You said in a high-pitched voice, like you would do when talking to a puppy.

"The fuck you talkin' 'bout?" He frowned, gripping your side gently as you were in bed together.

"¿Quién es mi gorditoo?" (Who's my little fatty?) You said again, pinching his cheeks as you giggled.

"Bub, I already told you I don't get the fuck you're saying." He growled.

But when you got deeper in the relationship, things would change.

"¿Vos sos my gordito hermoso?" (Are you my cute little fatty?) You said, sitting on his lap as you caressed his cheeks, rubbing your thumbs against his skin.

He sighed, looking up at you, you were waiting for his answer. He sighed again.

"Chi."

BTW I'm working on marjorie prt 2 and bunny mutant three and more stuff :) be patient

part 2 of this.

[minnie-themoocher]

hi :) what’s one of your favourite Jason headcannons?

that he’s hispanic and catholic, those are pretty near and dear to me.

hispanic just bc i like the representation and his canonical fluency in spanish but catholic bc i like the angst that comes with the juxtaposition of his death and his faith. the fact that in dc people who go to hell and come back always recall it, means jason went to heaven and never gets to remember it.

he comes back with such righteous anger and self loathing and such a deep sense of justice in part because he views himself as unworthy of his heaven but his god didn’t - he just doesn’t know it.

that means a lot to me.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Miss Jackson🌊💙🥞🗡

Percy Jackson is a trans woman babes,get with it(art by mi prima @biandbored !!)

[sweetpupii]

unbelievable, honestly.

the baby has been absolutely restless lately, still getting used to the fact that she is no longer in the womb. poor girl, she is suddenly very aware of the lack of warmth 24/7 now that she started to experience what's called weather and the daily breeze of an open window.

handing baby girl to rudy after nursing so he could put her to sleep while you take care of yourself was a wonderful idea. she gets sleep, he gets baby cuddles and you get to shower. everyone's more than happy with the deal.

for a moment, everything was perfect. stepping out of the bathroom, hair and body comfortably wrapped in a towel, you sighed with relief. clean, refreshed, and feeling human again—you dared to hope for a tiny, well deserved moment of peace. you just gave birth after all. ( gotta give mama a break ! )

but that hope was short-lived because there he was, laying down on the bed, baby nestled against his chest, crying.

not the baby. rodolfo.

“jesus, what happened? why are you crying?” you asked, alarmed while quickly approaching the bed. every single disastrous scenario automatically finding their way into your mind. was she hurt? did she stop breathing for a second? did he feel something weird on her body? did she—

instead of answering, he simply handed you his phone to show an Instagram reel about a quinceañera and her father swaying side to side to ‘tiempo de vals’ by chayanne. the song tugging at his heartstrings with every note. it's like the phone was mocking him and his emotional dad brain, cruelly reminding him that she won't be a baby forever. that one day it's gonna be her on a big, beautiful dress wearing a shiny crown and looking like an angel on her birthday party.

this man was desperately trying to keep his sobs quiet, taking off his glasses to wipe away tears with the back of his hand to not wake her up. he was clearly losing the battle, though. last time he cried like this was after your labor during skin to skin. ( the picture you took if it already his favorite, decorating the lock screen of his phone. )

“she’s growing up so fast,” he managed, voice cracking.

rodolfo parra, the respectable sergeant major of los vaqueros who was trained to be cold and show no mercy on duty, was weeping because of a newborn baby that was nowhere near fifteen years old and currently drooling onto his shirt completely oblivious of her father's sorrow.

you blinked, baffled. “...she's barely three weeks old.”

“¡por eso!” he cried, his face scrunching up in anguish. absolutely heartbroken about how fast time goes. she was out the womb yesterday, whining on your chest while the nurses cleaned her up and now she's already three weeks old? when did that even happen!

maybe it was this new type of love—one that he has never felt before—that filled his heart as soon as he found out he was gonna be a dad, the fact that he would already do anything for his little princess of maybe the fact he was still overwhelmed or the fact that his parental leave comes to an end in nine weeks that made him so emotional.

sure, that sounds like a lot but it sure as hell don't feel like it.

how is he supposed to go back to the base, work and focus when the love of his life is spending the day with the other tiny love of his life, at home being all warm and cozy and cute and—ugh! it sounds like a bad joke but sadly it'll be his routine.

“look at ‘er…” he sniffed, trailing his eyes down her tiny face. she's so adorable he wanted to scream into a pillow and protect her from all the awful shit that happens daily, give her the best life she could ever have and show her that she is and will always be the most important thing in his whole entire world.

how can you even comfort a forty-five year old man that's crying for something that's gonna happen in more than a decade?

well, better find a way soon because it's gonna happen reaaaaaally often.

masterlist ♡ taglist

[ilovejeansosomuch]

Idk I keep thinking about Latino!mammon it’s actually making me go crazy

ALSO HAVE YOU GUYS HEARD ABT THE GAME ENDING?

[pussypinkdoll]

pretty lady.

summary: a connie drabble where he has to deal with dating the most prettiest girl.

warnings: mature scenes, slight smut, etc.

commission for: @tojisblondebimbo

don’t forget to dm me for commissions <3

connie loved you with his hearts content, he loved when you would come up to him squealing because you got a new dress, he loved the way how tight the dress clunged to your body leaving no where for imagination. your ass pocking out the bottom of the dress when you would bend over showing your lacy thong clinging to your mound so tightly.

connie loved the fact you were so damn pretty, you were hard headed and stubborn, but soft and poise. he loved how sometimes your beauty could get you anything. for example, you forgot your purse in the house so you turn to look at connie while pointing at the Chanel bag “pa pleaseee I’ll pay you back!!” shaking his head he agreed to buy it knowing damn well you won’t pay him back. but he knew something was up when you seemed to forget your wallet multiple times. what can you say, why would you spend your own money when your man is right there?

but you being pretty can also cause problems. the amount of times he had to beat niggas asses left and right because they couldn’t keep their hands off you. sometimes he wished you wore a plastic bag over your head when going out. he wished your dresses weren’t so mesh and tight on you showing everyone a preview of what’s up under there. but it’s not really his baby’s fault that she’s so pretty so all he can do is grunt about it and move along while rubbing onto your ass any chance he can.

the times he really loved though was being between your legs sucking with his hearts content. looking up momentarily seeing your bambi watery eyes staring right back at him, your plump lips letting out the softest whines possible. slurping sounds filling the room as you rock back against his face trying to catch your nut. connie’s tongue did wonders that sometimes you had to deprive him from the pussy. like one time he wanted to fuck while you guys were at a family gathering and cupped your pussy with his hand after slipping it through the slit of the skirt “connie !!” “whatt? let’s go in my old room hm?”

your hair messy and all over the place, makeup and lip combo smeared, legs kicking around everywhere, toes curling, back arching off the bed “you taste so good mama~ how come you won’t sit on my face forever huh~? don’t that sound like a good idea pretty lady~?” slapping the side of your thighs with pinching your overstimulated clit. “what you think mama~? tell ‘pa’ what you thinking in the pretty little head of yours~” biting your lip you grabbed his hand making him hover over you. watching your plum lips connie heard “you won’t be able to handle it pa~” did I forget to tell you he loved that slick mouth?

he couldn’t leave you alone even if he tried. you were a little bit toxic. everytime he went to do a deal you would latch onto him telling him if he left you in the house alone for an hour max you would leave. of course knew you were bluffing but he still sighed a stayed with you a while longer knowing if he you guys broke up, you’d find a nigga the same day. ouuu he was just like the song area codes by kali, that one line that said “matter of fact, scratch that imma send you a stack just cuz you fine as hell” and bitch that nigga hand you two racks!! while saying “give me a show and I’ll add an extra hermosa” who were you to decline the offer?

overall being connie’s pretty girl had many perks it’s a 10/10 experience <3

[leovenuslatina]

ETERNAL DESIRE⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°

!!THIS READING IS 18+ MDNI!!

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

what makes your FS feel desired?

⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺

₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊this is just a reminder that tarot isn’t permanent or set in stone YOU decide how your life goes no one or nothing else now take a deep breath and choose the pile that calls to you ₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊˚⊹

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

PILE 1 -

King of Pentacles & The Magician

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Your FS like to feel confident pile 1. he likes when stroke his ego make him feel good and you build him up i mean of course everyone does but he mainly likes it when you do it. it means the most to him when you do it especially when you two are making love and you whisper all things he’s doing makes you feel good he’s obsessed with that. Outside of the bedroom your FS likes knowing that you depend upon him that anytime you need him or anything that you come to him. he likes when you make him feel like a “real man” you know chopping wood lifting heavy shit and stuff like that. your FS is OBSESSED with making you feel safe protected and comfortable. whether it’s when some creep is hitting on you and making you feel uncomfortable or his just hold you in his arms. he likes knowing that you trust him completely with everything: soul and mind but especially body. Your FS does put a lot of his identity in what he does and his job so he maybe like really important where he works or in his field. he has a lot of respect which indirectly helps his confidence especially with you he likes to buy you nice things and taking you on trips and luxurious experiences. Lastly your FS LOVES ! communication and hearing words of affirmation from you it does wayyyyy more than you think it does.

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

PILE 2 -

Two of Wands & Six of Pentacles

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Immediately pile 2 your FS means business! they love to get shit done they have a long list of goals and they intend to achieve everything on that list and they don’t let anything or anyone stop them. that makes them feel really desired and important and impressive. they like when you challenge them i’m getting that the chase is like a good motivation for them. in the weirdest way what makes them feel wanted is when you act like you don’t want them 🤭. when you tease them and act like a brat for lack of a better word. your FS def wants what they can’t have and when you tell them not right now or no he LOVES IT ! (side note lol): i was having a conversation with my man the other day and i asked him why he kept pursuing me even when i acted like i didn’t want him he said because he was so used to girls throwing themselves at him that when i didn’t he was intrigued and when he got me he felt accomplished. Your FS is the SAME way he’s probably like handsome or really charismatic and when you don’t immediately want him he’s obviously obsessed with you !honestly just being in a relationship with you makes him feel the most desirable. because he views you as the highest prize he could ever win. he sees you as a goal he wants to achieve (not in a bad way!!) he just knows he has to work his hardest to get you and make you happy and keep you happy and that makes him feel really good about himself. he feels like he won at life just because he’s with you 🥰. because they are very goal oriented they LOVE when you give them tasks to do for you like helping you move or helping you with some car troubles. they are a HUGE acts of service kinda guy and he’s the type to do stuff for you before you even asking like filling up your water bottle or washing your car for you or just anything to make your life easier. it’s the same thing in the bedroom. he likes when you tell him what you like and what to do and when he does that and makes you pleased he’s extremely happy with himself.

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PILE 3 -

Knight of Pentacles & Six of Cups

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Your FS prides himself on being who you lean on. He’s ambitious and he’s a GOOD man savanna!!! he’s loyal and faithful if you care about that stuff he is a religious man (only of that applies). What makes your FS feel desirable is knowing that you see him and that you know all he does. he’s the type of guy that doesn’t brag he’s not boastful about all he does. he’s very humble. he’s not in it for any type of praise or recognition. but you truly see him and you’re thankful and appreciative of everything he does for you and that makes him happy literally he’s a simple kinda man it really doesn’t take much to make him happy or feel. your FS is an extremely patient and supportive man he’ll do anything for you even if you have trauma or past experiences that cause you anxiety he’ll be right by your side. this FS is the perfect person for someone who needs a lot of patience and attention and love. he’s very caring and soft and loving. and the look on your face when he hold you or when he sees you happy that is the ultimate compliment to him. like all he wants to do is be a good MAN for you !

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[iwriteloveletters]

HAPPY FUCKING HISPANIC HERITAGE MONTH FROM ONE HISPANIC WRITER/READER TO ANOTHER YEAAAAAAAAAA 🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷🇵🇷

[simple-dark-eyes]

*This takes place some time after Vil's overblot. Mexican!Yuu after somehow getting roped into the other first years' bullshit*

Yuu: Oyes eres un pendejo.

Ace: A what?

Yuu: Un pendejo.

Ace: *turns to Grim* Grim, you're un pendejo.

Grim: Un what?

Ace: *turns back to Yuu* Un what?

Yuu: Pendejo.

Ace: *turns back to Grim* Un pendejo.

Grim: *turns to Deuce* Deuce, you're un pendejo.

Deuce: Un what?

Grim: *turns back to Ace* Un what?

Ace: *turns back to Yuu* Un what?

Yuu: *kinda reaching their limit* Un pendejo.

Ace: *turns to Grim* Un pendejo.

Grim: *turns to Deuce* Un pendejo.

Deuce: *turns to Jack* Jack, you're un pendejo.

Jack: *slightly appalled* Un what?

Deuce: *turns back to Grim* Un what?

Grim: *turns back to Ace* Un what?

Ace:: *turns back to Yuu* Un what?

Yuu: *getting frustrated and talking with their hands* ¡UN PENDEJO!

Ace: *turns to Grim copying Yuu* ¡UN PENDEJO!

Grim: *turns to Jack copying Ace* ¡UN PENDEJO!

Deuce: *turns to Jack Copying Grim* ¡UN PENDEJO!

Jack: *angrily turns to Epel* EPEL, YOU'RE UN PENDEJO!

Epel: *very much offened* UN WHAT?!

Jack: *turns back to Deuce* Un what?

Deuce: *turns back to Grim* Un what?

Grim: *turns back to Ace* Un what?

Ace: *turns back to yuu with a nod waiting for them to respond*

Yuu: *has reached their limit and ennuciating each syllable* ¡UN PENDEJO!

Ace: *turns to Grim copying yuu* ¡UN PENDEJO!

Grim: *turns to Deuce copying Ace* ¡UN PENDEJO!

Deuce: *turns to Jack copying Grim* ¡UN PENDEJO!

Jack: *turns to Epel copying Deuce* ¡UN PENDEJO!

Epel: *turns to Yuu* YUU, YOU'RE UN PENDEJO!

Yuu: *very much done with this long game of Telephone and waves him off* ¡PUES CHINGA SU MADRE!

I had to rewrite this cause when I first posted this tumblr got rid of pretty much more than half of the dialogue leaving only yhe names. I wanted to cry.

[saeist]

there was one thing ticked off your bucket list this year and that was going out the country with your long time boyfriend, itoshi sae.

sae was able to bring you along to spain for this season's soccer tournament. he even went as far as getting you a schengen tourist visa just so you can stay with him until the tournament finishes

and with that, today was your official first day in spain.

luckily for the both of you, sae had an extra day to spare before training. so being the boyfriend he is, sae took the responsibility of being your tour guide and show you around the city he lives in, madrid.

sae took you to all his favorite spots to spend his leisure time if he had some and even took you out on a lunch date at his favorite 5* michelin restaurant.

after exploring the city, you two find yourselves in the busy streets of puerto del sol. there were so many stores and vendors out and about. there was something so endearing hearing sae talk to the locals as you two do your little touristy things such as getting a romantic portrait drawn by some artist on the street.

on the way to the local park, sae spots a florist and buys a bouquet of flowers for you just because.

"¿cuánto por estos?" (how much for these?) you hear sae ask, while pointing at the selection of premade bouquets up on display. you tug on his arm, protesting about how he already spent so much today. sae simply shushes you and continues to converse with the vendor.

"para tu amante?" (for your lover?)

"sí, tomaré esto para mi amante" (yes, for my lover) sae says, wrapping an arm around you. almost like he was showing you off to the old lady selling flowers. she smiles widely and says something in spanish that you obviously didn’t understand.

"ya que ustedes son tan lindos, ¡les daré esto por la mitad del precio!" (since you guys are so cute, I'll give you this for half the price!)

you look up at sae to see him blush a little.

"¡oh! realmente no tienes que hacerlo..." (oh! you really don't have to...) sae says sheepishly, rubbing the back of neck.

the old lady simply laughs and hands you the bouquet of flowers sae picked.

"you are very lucky" she dotes, giving your hand a squeeze. you look at sae to see him smiling down at you.

"muchas gracias" you chirp, looking between the vendor and sae. the vendor laughs and waves goodbye as you two walk away.

"que el verdadero amor que comparten hoy se fortalezca a medida que envejecen juntos!" (may the true love you share today grow stronger as you grow older together!) you hear the old lady yell out from the distance.

the day finally ends when you and sae walk back to his apartment complex.

"so did you have fun today?" sae asks, giving you glance as you two walk hand in hand in the busy streets of madrid.

"is that really a question?" you raise a brow at him, nudging his shoulders. sae laughs, his insides feeling like mush that he finally has you with him. he was no longer alone in spain. no more long distance. no more late night calls, no more timezones. no more.

sae suddenly crouches down in front of you. you take a look around your surroundings to see some bystanders watching the scene unfold before their eyes.

"what are you doing?"

"just get on"

"is this the sae itoshi being romantic?" you tease, cheekily wrapping your hands around his neck as he hoists your legs up. sae smirks at your reaction.

"only for you, mi amor"

[adoringmha]

asian/latino sero cause duh | he has a filthy mouth | nsfw mdni

hanta has a way of making you feel so gorgeous and so desired, it’s a skill. the way he touches you, looks at you, talks to you—it all sets you on fire.

you’re on your hands and knees, face pressed into the bed as he watches you, coming in so close you can feel his breath on you.

“look at you, mi cariño.” his voice is full of awe, adoration. his hands slide up your thighs to your ass. “i’ve missed this.”

when you cheekily point out that he saw you (naked as well) just last night, he squeezes your ass playfully. “s’been too long since then.”

he shifts on the bed behind you, you feel him more than see him. he pushes your legs apart gently, more of a silent demand than a physical one. “come on baby, spread your legs a little more, let me see her.”

you do, whining already just from his tone, how desperate he sounds, like you’re keeping precious treasure away from him and all to yourself.

he groans, tortured by the sight of you. “fuck, princesa.” he licks his lips, cooing at your lower ones. “d’you miss me? yeah?”

he’s turning you on so you don’t mind the talking, you fucking love the talking, but you’re getting impatient for his touch, so you show him that—wiggling your ass in his face, whining his name the way he likes.

he curses again and slaps your ass, soothing it quickly after, rubbing a warm hand in real slow. “i know baby.”

he gets up on his knees and leans over to you, “here mi amor, get it nice and wet for me.” you open up without question and he slides his thumb in your mouth.

you swirl your tongue around it, hollowing your cheeks as you suck it real good, and he feels like he’s about to burst in his sweats.

“that’s a good girl.”

he gets back behind you, “lemme spread her open a bit yeah? then i’ll give you what we’re both dying for.” he slides his thumb between your folds and you keen, your hips bucking almost too wildly for such a little touch.

he just chuckles and bites your ass playfully before giving it a kiss, grinning against your skin. he reaches your clit and circles it nice and slow watching you clench around nothing, “there we go.”

before you can do or say anything else, his tongue is between your folds and he’s salivating between your thighs at your taste, his thumb still circling your clit expertly.

“m’thank you baby, love you so much. so good for me.” he’s panting the praise against your folds, but you’re too caught up in the pleasure to tell him you should be thanking him instead, so you just moan, and he knows exactly what you meant.

he smiles against you, hands coming to hold your ass apart for him to enjoy himself properly.

when he sucks on your clit and you moan his name all breathless, he knows he’s not getting up from this spot any time soon. he’ll thank you again after.

it’s common courtesy to express thanks for your meals, right?