#latin! reader

You bet! Sounds good. Also, if I accidentally offend anyone who reads this- please let me know and drag me gently, since I’m not Latin myself.

Roger would adore dating a Latin Reader because, first of all, you’re beautiful. You have lovely skin and one day, during a beach visit, the sun’s rays hit right and something about the salt in the air and the ocean waves hitting against you made your skin seem to glow and your hair look free and soft and his jaw downright dropped.

You are also very friendly. You tend to smile a lot and talk and to Roger you seem like a ray of genuine sunshine. He is that way himself, but you love to talk to people and make them feel welcome and included, you have little songs you love humming, and you always greet people you love with a large hug. He can’t help but think it’s adorable.

Another reason is that often you will cook for Roger. You’ll come over to his flat or house with arms full of groceries as you kiss his face and kick the door closed. Even if it’s as simple as boiled rice with black beans, chicken fajitas, and flan for dessert, Roger is amazed and eats every bite. He smiles and blinks in amazement, although you spill a bit on your shirt and he gently wipes it off.

You’re also fiercely loyal. You’re a ride or die kind of person. One time you were at the studio and a spat was breaking out between him and Brian over a song and you boldly stepped forward and defended Roger’s choice of lyrics. Brian blinked and then shrugged and relented.

You also get to introduce him to your diverse tastes in music. Of course, you love rock (you might not be with Roger if you weren’t into Rock in the first place) but Latin music always gets his toes tapping. You even cajole him to dance at least a little with you.

Roger becomes a part of your Familia. You invite him to family gatherings and at first you’re nervous (he seems at first the bad boy type) but Roger is smart enough to know what to do and not to do and he charms all of your relatives and friends. Soon you are clinking glasses as Rog keeps an arm around you.

You even teach him bits of Spanish. Although he butchers the pronunciation, it’s cute to watch. You love calling him cute names like “mi vida”, “carino, etc.

You are always honest about your feelings with Roger. If he is about to go to a tour, you tell him you want to feel needed and to spend time with him before he goes. And he does. And when he gets back, you cry and hug him. You say you wonder if there was anyone he was seeing. Roger shakes his head.

“Really?”

There’s a softness in his eyes. No real sign of lying. No glancing to the left or “uhms” anywhere.

“They just weren’t you, hermosa,” he says, holding your hand and rubbing it a little.

You sat on the living room couch, eyes glued onto the brightness up screen of the TV across from either of you, your main interest being the drama series that the network was currently displaying. Your hands subconsciously caressing the exposed skin of your lover's back, running up and down in light comforting touches. Her body straddling your lap, either legs on both sides, her skirt acting as a blanket of sorts as it blanketed the rest of your lower body. Her petite arms wrapped around your neck, fingers buried in your hair, lazily playing with (h/c) curly locks. You smiled as you felt Trish nuzzle her face deeper into the crook of your neck, hearing her sigh in pleasure at the smell of your lavender and coconut scent. Today was one of those days you had once dreade, nothing to do, just wallowing in your boredom. But now, now that you had found her, these were the days you couldn't wait for. You had come to the conclusion that you once dreaded those days because you had no one to spend them with, but now you did.

You had came to Italy due to there being an optional international field trip made by your Italian Language class. It was a trip that was meant to further enforce your knowledge over the langaueg itself and to fully emerge yourself with the colorful culture. You had managed to convince your family to let you go, promising to pay most of the expenses and such. Next thing you knew, you were leaving the airport and entering the beautiful city of Naples. A few days into your trip, while you were with your classes tour guide, you had ran into some trouble after wandering off to buy some cannolis. You lost the rest of the group and then all of a sudden, gunshots and what not rang through the air. Much more occurred during the fight but you were too lazy to go into much detail. All that was needed to know was that you saved Trish's ass at the fight, nursed her back to health, and became somewhat of a bodyguard. Her father had found out about what you did and so he wanted you to protect her, you couldn't actually deny a gangster to be honest. Oh buddy, that very same night after you had met with her father, the call back home, oof. You had told you parents that a very high ranking school had become interested in you, offering you a good scholarship to study with them. Although you were in your junior year of highschool, they said that they would provide all you needed to survive in another country. They were surprised, shocked at the very beginning, but after asking if you could deal with living on your own and you saying yes, they allowed it.

Few weeks pass by, either of you had developed a crush on each other. And considering that the both of you lived together now, things were sometimes difficult. Trish never got used to the fact that you would walk out of the shower wearing nothing but a rather short towel wrapped around your body, and you could never get use to the revealing outfit she always wore. You had been the first to confess. It was late in the night....morning actually. It was around 4 am, you didn't have the capability of sleeping the day, hundreds of thoughts racing through your mind. Beginning a conversation with the young 16 year old, you being just a year older, it had led to many random topics until finally ending up on the topic of love and romance and shit. You remembered how you smoothly said, "I've never been in love....'till I met you." The face your beloved pink-haired lover made was one that you could always laugh at even to this day. So shocked, blush-filled, and happy. You got together after that, leading to today.

You glanced down to the ring that adorned your wedding finger, admiring its simplicity. Either of you weren't engaged to one another, but in a way, these rings symbolized your loyalty to one another. What were they called again....a promise ring? You figured that it sounded dumb but that's what they were. However, even though the two of you weren't engaged or anything, you would often refer to each other as wives. Close friends of yours, ones that you made in Italy, had often asked, "How's the wife?" In the beginning, they had meant it as a way to joke around, later on it just became a thing. Either of you were too young to wed, that much was obvious, but that didn't mean you didn't act like a married couple.

You lived all the memories that you shared with Trish, loved all the memories that you shared with the gang. Memories that you lived the most involved the two of you teaching ecahothers your native languages. You taught her Spanish and she taught you Italian. It was common for pet names to be spoke in either's mother tongue. You would call Trish, " Amor de mi vida", "mi amor", or "bebe". Trish called you, " mio caro" "amore mio," or "bella". It was also common for you to rsapond to eachother in your own mother tongues, " Want to eat outside?" "Porque no, es un lindo dia." "How was it at Passione?" "Fugo pugnalò di nuovo Narancia sulla guancia con una forchetta."

Meeting Trish was something you would never regret.

"(Y/n)?" You glanced down, finally realizing that your partner was gazing up at you with a sort of worried look in her beautiful eyes. "Yes?" "What are you thinking about? I've been calling out your name for minutes now. You seemed deep in thoughts." Smiling fondly, you brought your hand to caress her cheek, enjoying the smoothness of her skin as well as the feeling of her leaning into your palm. "I was thinking about you." Her face went pink, a small smile on her lips. "And what were you thinking about?" You chuckled," Everything."

The two to you stayed silent for the next five minutes, getting lost in each other's eyes. "Te amo Trish." The pink haired gangster smiled softly.

Luca: The names Luca Changretta

Latin Reader: Luca....Chancleta?

Luca: No. Changretta.