Those of you with those of us at Valkyrie Studios that have us on author alert for a sequel to Akatsukitties: Sorry, I just ruined your day by writing Hetalia stuff instead. :) Currently it's my main love, and Naruto's not my main focus now, but I WILL get back on track!

I blame NationxReader fanfictions for this fanfic-type-thing, which will also be a way for me to cure the horrors of Writer's Block when they strike.

There's probably about a hundred high-school fics, and I know the title is cliché, but I couldn't think of anything! I did like writing this, but I don't think it turned out as good as I wanted it to…

So, first chapter is gonna be Spain, because he was the first idea I had. Story behind it? I was sitting in Spanish class, we had a substitute named Mr. Nation…enough said. Lol.

ENJOY~

"…and I cannot BELIEVE your grades for this class! You know it's necessary to get into a good college, so at least make an EFFORT…"

You groaned to yourself as your mom ranted about how your Spanish grade on your report card had been a D. Why did she always have to overreact?

Alright, so maybe sophomore year wasn't going quite as easily as you'd hoped for, but you did well on the rest of your grades. Why was Spanish such a big deal?

For the most part it was fine. The teachers were cool-except for the evil gym teacher and the semi-strict algebra teacher-and the kids were decent. Your classes weren't too difficult; you really just didn't take an interest in Spanish.

Your mom, however, didn't think so, leaving you trying to tune out her rant.

"-and so that's why I've taken the liberty of hiring you a tutor-"

What?

"Wait, mom, did I hear you right?

"Yes, you did! As I was saying, I've hired a senior from your school to help you out with your grades in that class…"

You couldn't believe this. All because of one grade for a class you didn't care about, your mom hired you your own personal teacher?

"Mom, I don't need a tutor!"

"Really, now, (Name)? Your report card says otherwise!"

"It's one grade, mom, and Spanish isn't REQUIRED to get into college! It just helps!"

But no matter how you argued with your mom about not needing a tutor for the foreign
language class, it was to no avail.

So much for having a nice, relaxing weekend…

The next day was when your new "personal teacher" was supposed to arrive. You were currently in your bedroom, listening to the radio. The Shakira song "Hips Don't Lie" came on, and you started singing along, half-tempted to try the dance.

"Oh, baby when you talk like that, you make a woman go mad So be wise, and keep on, reading the signs of my body. I'm on tonight, you know my hips don't lie, and I'm starting to feel it's right. All the attraction, the tension, don't you see baby? This is perfection~"

"Well if that's what you wanted to tell me, you could have just said so, chica!"

You jolt in surprise, falling off of your bed as an amused voice chimed in. You scramble to your feet in embarrassment, only to see who had spoken.

Oh CRAP.

The boy was a senior, and he was one you knew about all too well. With his dark brown hair, green eyes, and cocky grin, it was impossible to mistake.

Antonio Carriedo was one of the biggest flirts in the entire high school. It didn't matter what grade the girls were in, the Spaniard would always get them using just some smooth words and a smug smile.

…well, okay, so he could get girls from every grade freshman and above. He DID have standards. Although you did know some elementary kids with crushes on him.

He'd hit on you a couple of times, and a bit more often than he did with other girls. But your stood your ground and remained unaffected by the Spaniard!

He winked at you when you glared at him.

"Aw, don't be that way, (name)! I'm only teasing you, although now that I get the chance to look closely, really DO have a figura hermosa!"

You gape at him. Even with your pathetic knowledge of the language, you knew that he'd just blatantly commented on your curves.

"You sick-! What are you even doing at my HOUSE? In my room?"

He gave his weird little laugh of "Fusososososo" that always sounded hilarious to you, but was somehow adorable to other girls.

"Oh, you mean your mamá never told you who your new tutor to teach you la lengua Española was? Well, it is me, and here I am!"

No. Freaking. Way.

"She hired YOU?"

"Sí. I am, after all, a natural speaker of it, aren't I?"

No way. Out of all the students in Spanish classes at your school, your mom had thought it'd be a good idea to hire the flirtiest one who never took a class, even if he DID speak the language more fluent than anyone else naturally?

"So, then, shall we begin, Señorita (Name)?" He grinned his all-too common smile, showing a set of perfect white teeth. "I'll go facíl on you to start with."

Possible innuendo, anyone?

"Fine, then." You narrow your (e/c here) eyes at him. "Show me what you got, Antonio…in a completely non-sexual, SCHOOL TOPIC, related way."

His face fell when you cleared up your comment, but he quickly recovered.

"Alright then, let's began, shall we? Oh, but one request. Regardless of what you call me at school, when I'm here, you are to call me Señor Carriedo. Comprendo?"

Two could play at this game, Antonio. You think angrily, but smile sweetly and respond:

"Sí, Señor Carriedo. Let's get this over with."

Despite your resolve, as the days went on and turned into weeks, you found yourself enjoying your Spanish lessons with Antonio. Aside from his casual flirting, he was genuinely a friendly, funny guy.

And every girl in school was jealous of you, which made it all the more amusing.

But really, you were starting to wonder…just how long could you keep yourself from falling for the biggest playboy in school? The more you talked with and got to know him, the more difficult it got.

He really did seem genuine, always smiling and often laughing. Even if he did occasionally attempt to make a move on you, it was never too bad…

Maybe you could at least just give him a chance, to see how things-

"No!" you scold yourself, slapping yourself in the arm in annoyance, ignoring the weird looks you got. "I will NOT give in to that Spanish pretty boy, no matter how hot he is and no matter how adorable he is when he smiles-"

"Hola, chica. Who are you talking to?"

"AGH!"

You jumped about a foot when his voice came from behind you, and felt your face heat up at the thought of how he could have heard what you said.

You turned around slowly to see Antonio standing behind you, smirking. Yep, he'd heard you, alright.

"Oh, Antonio! Um…n-no one, I just kind of spaced out. Hahaha…" You trailed off in a nervous laugh as he just kept looking at you smugly.

"Really, chica? I believe you may have been talking about me. I DID hear a mention of a chico caliente with a bonita sonrisa."

You feel yourself flush even more when he started smoothly speaking in Spanish. Something about him just seemed so darn sexy when he did…

I SAID NO, DANG IT!

"Chica? Are you alright? You are turning muy rojo." He frowned, though his eyes glinted brightly with humor, and put a hand on your forehead, only making you blush more at the sudden contact.

"Are you feeling alright? You don't have a fiebre, do you?" He obviously liked making you embarrassed using his false concern.

"N-no, I'm fine!" You stammered in protest, jerking away instinctively from him. "Um…I'd better get going. I-I'll see you tonight for the lesson!"

And you ran off, cursing both him and yourself as you heard him laugh behind you.

And I say it again: Stupid Spanish pretty boy!

"I'm impressed, chica. You've figured things out pretty fast." Antonio remarked about halfway through your lesson. You felt flattered, simply because-regardless of his all-too-willing attitude about complimenting your 'beauty'-he'd never said anything positive about you speaking the language…

Actually, he usually teased you because not only did the words cause difficulty sometimes, but your accent was awful.

"Gracias, Antonio-er, I mean, Señor Carriedo."

He laughed-"Fusososososososo!"-as you made the mistake of calling him by his first name despite his instructions to refer to him as "Señor" during classes.

"Sí, de nada."

Then something else you'd been meaning to mention came to mind.

"Hey, um, Señor? I've been wondering…why do you always call me 'chica' more often than my name? I know it just means 'girl', right?"

"Sí. And I suppose…it's because it can occasionally be translated to 'cute girl.'" He winked, and you blushed.

"Oh, so my compliments are finally getting to you? Well, then…"

And suddenly he was walking towards you, kissing your hand brazenly and making you blink in surprise.

"Su belleza es grande, como un desierto real rosa que florece solo."

You wished you knew more than the Spanish you DID know, as you were only able to understand "beauty", "great" and "rose" in his smooth words.

"What did you say?"

"I said 'Your beauty is great, like the regal desert rose that blooms alone.'…oh, I'm making you blush more? Sí, sí, muy bien!" As he spoked, he'd been starting to slowly stand, trailing kisses up your arm.

"Señor, what are you…doing?" You squeaked in alarm as he nipped lightly on the inside of your arm, undoubtedly leaving a mark.

He smirked against your skin and looked up at you, his green eyes glinting.

"Are you saying you don't like my little games, bella dama?"

"I'm not saying any-what does THAT mean?"

"Beautiful lady. Now, now, don't give me that look. You told me you wanted a new nickname other than chica."

"I never said…but why are you acting like this?"

He was standing up now, looking directly at you. Something in his tanned face was making your heart throb.

"Bella dama, you never noticed? Why I always pay more attention to you than other girls…why I never seriously dated anyone for more than a few days…I even called up yourmamá and ASKED her to hire me as your tutor, she'd been thinking of one of the kids in fourth-year Spanish…"

His eyes glinted as you gaped at him in shock.

"I always thought you were very pretty, (Name). Sí, muy bonita! But you never gave me a second look. This was the only way I could think of to have you take me seriously…"

"Antonio…?"

All of a sudden he grabbed you and crushed you against him, crashing his lips against yours. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you gave a muffled squeak…of protest? No, this felt too nice to protest against…

Your felt his lips moving fiercely against yours, and slowly, hesitantly, you started to return the motion.

The effect was instant.

He gave a deep moan from back in his throat, one of his arms around your waist, the other hand knotted in your (h/c) hair.

His tongue suddenly slipped between your lips and forced past your teeth, earning him the moan you'd been trying to hold back. You felt him smirk against you as you started struggling against him for dominance inside your mouth. But of course, he was the expert, and the struggle was short-lived…

God, he tastes good. That was the only way you could describe it. Sweet and spicy all at the same time.

The arm around your waist had slid slightly, allowing him to grope your backside as you squeaked and blushed. He pulled back, grinning at the look on your face as you both panted slightly to catch your breath.

"Antonio…that was…"

He pressed his finger to your lips, silencing you, his nose practically touching against your as he spoke softly in Spanish.

"Shh…mi amor. Mi hermosa rosa. Te amo…"

My sweetheart. My beautiful rose. I love you.

What else could you do but respond in the same language as him? "Te…te amo demasiado…"

I love you too.

His eyes lit up and he grinned, kissing you again, more fiercely. This time you were ready and kissed back as fiercely as you kid, enjoying his low moans as he ground his hips against yours, pulling you over towards where the couch was.

He had you pushed down beneath him and was playing with the hem of your shirt now. His touch was warm and sent shivers down your spine…

"(Name!) I'm home! How was school tod-OH MY GOD!"

You nearly choked on your own tongue-or was it Antonio's?-as your mother's voice came from the front door. You both turned and looked at her as she gaped in shock.

Antonio said exactly what was on both your mind.

"Estamos tan jodidos."

"What?"

"We are so screwed."

…pfft. Mothers always ruin the moment, don't they? XD No, I love my mom, but I had to add that in. I HAD to.

Well, I just molested you all via Spain…or did he molest you via ME? Eh, who knows…

Not sure who the next chapter will be…probably England or France. I loves me the European countries. Or maybe Prussia…the Bad Touch Trio ALWAYS makes my day! (Even though Romano is my one true love…)

I APPRECIATE ANY AND ALL IDEAS. Because even though I have plenty, I still have MANY that lack.