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bobluvbot · 15 days

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late night cravings

pairing: sirius black x afab!reader summary: you sneak off the night for a cheeky midnight snack, hoping sirius won’t notice (spoiler alert: he does, and he’s sulky about it) wc: 4k cw: pregnancy & baby talk, descriptions of food and eating, brief allusions to sex (not directly stated), no physical traits of reader specified but sirius can hold things out of reader’s reach a/n: so i had a lengthy angst fic for sirius’s debut on my blog and im halfway done on it but i cant seem to finish it bc it sends me to a depressing spiral each time <33333 so pls enjoy a very self-indulgent domestic excessively fluffy blurb with my beloved <33333 p.s this is not proofread so plz ignore mistakes ty <3

opening the tomato salsa jar turned out to be the hardest part.

back in bed, you thought the trickiest part of your late night escapade from sirius black was his long limbs wound up tight with yours, even in low light of the small nightlight in the corner, you could still make out the intricate script and designs following the curves and dips of his strong arms, holding you close to his chest.

you had it committed to memory by now, having explored sirius’s body well enough to memorize the way his skin feels against yours, with heartbeats and breaths falling in sync without much effort.

judging by the way his breathing gets heavy after every exhale and the little snores that escape in between, you knew he was beyond knackered. it was day five of sirius’s new job as an deputy director at the auror office. the day he learned about the promotion was pure unadulterated happiness. after letting you know through an express owl, you mustered up enough vigor available to your seven months pregnant self to get out of the house and go to the local shops to get party supplies and food to celebrate sirius’s achievement.

Coming in third out of the list of things he genuinely loved in this life, after you and his luscious locks of course, was his job as an auror. young sirius had never thought in his wildest dreams that he’d work at the ministry, much less actually enjoy it. can’t really blame sixteen year old sirius, starting an underground rock band with the marauders seemed like the perfect thing to do after gruelling hours of studying at hogwarts.

defense against the dark arts came to him naturally, with some counterspells like second nature to him as being exposed with use of dark magic young gave him no choice but to grow up quickly and defend himself from the excruciating pain or the mind control that was from his own family’s doing. Winning the first wizarding war alongside his friends and found family has solidified sirius’s calling in eradicating the use of dark magic and making sure the next generation can have a safe and normal life without the looming threat of a megalomaniac sorting people with their blood status and taking over the wizarding world.

that night, sirius walked into a dark and eerily quiet home that had his senses on overdrive. but when the lights turned on and he saw familiar faces of his loved ones all beaming with pride, and there you were in the center, looking ethereal and round and all his, with his favorite red velvet cake on hand and a ridiculously big balloon that says “congratulations” tied to the candle, he could have melted in a syrupy mess of gooey happiness right then and there if he hadn’t caught himself together last minute.

Sirius had thought– that after you agreeing to go on one date with him to hogsmeade, winning the quidditch cup and seeing the proud look on minerva’s face, going home for christmas break and euphemia welcoming him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug, remus teaching at the very same classroom you all were in years back, james and lily’s first kiss at the altar, holding little baby harry in his arms, you walking down the aisle with a bouquet of peonies in the most beautiful dress, and when you held his hand that one night and told him that you were expecting—- that he knew of love. but you do something extraordinary that has him scrambling to add to the endless list of why you’re the love of his life. he was so focused on you that he wasn’t prepared to catch pure muscle of james’s body as he flung himself to tackle his best friend in a hug. luckily, remus with a party hat was aptly standing between a toppling sirius and the living room wall, and he singlehandedly saved the two from creating a huge hole in the drywall.

this was the life, sirius had thought after many hours of partying celebrating and eating, when he laid beside you in bed, limbs tangled, sated and dizzy and warm as you both came down from your highs. and he gets to spend it with you.

but as fun and exciting sirius’s new job is, it entailed an increased amount of responsibility as he was assisting the head auror. his least favorite part of the job was the boatloads of paperwork he has to deal with. An express owl almost dropped a howler letter into the soup you were making for dinner earlier that day and you opened it up panicking thinking it was an emergency. But no, it was just sirius whining that his hand hurt and is about to fall off and that he needs you to kiss it better.

You did eventually, and one thing led to another and here you were, tucked in your husband’s warm embrace. you could stay here forever, only separating to drink water and bathroom trips, but the gnawing urge to eat something savory, sweet, tangy, and crunchy has possessed your entire being, the only way to quell it was to get up and go to the kitchen. the baby doesn’t seem to have a semblance of time yet, a fact you both envied and despised, because the clock on your nightstand said it was 3:48am in bold red numbers. A few months ago, you’d never be caught dead awake at this time, taking your precious sleep time seriously. The man himself would poke fun at you and say you’d gladly sleep through an earthquake or a housefire just as long as you get your seven to eight hours of sleep per day, and despite of your assumed role of contradicting and arguing with spontaneous and stubborn sirius, you had to agree.

But this was not about you anymore, or at least not quite yet for a good seventeen years, so you untangle yourself from sirius and your perfectly warm and cool side of the bed and waddle down the carpeted stairs, careful not to set foot on the creaky step that might risk waking sirius up. You need your secrets too, and you’re not in the mood to share food.

Grateful for the heavens that you and sirius stocked up on groceries two days ago, you had a wide selection of random items to munch on. A few days ago, you were introduced to the idea of a fluffernutter sandwich while scrolling through the short videos on your feed. Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff as spreads on their own was something you didn’t mind eating, but both together in a sandwich? You were enthralled, and the only way to quell the curiosity was to make it. So you did.

You shovel and slather more than enough spread on each slice of bread, though you might have used the same spoon on both jars.. but who’s to tell you off otherwise, your snoozing husband upstairs? pfft.

Smiling happily as if committing a particularly naughty crime, you place the spoon in your mouth, licking off the gooey mixture as you place the sandwich on a piece of paper towel (yes, you take the no dishwashing tonight seriously) on the table. humming, you mull over what to prepare next.

The baby needs something savory and tangy, but you’re not particularly keen on going through all the effort of heating up the soup from dinner, not to mention the amount of cutlery and dishes you’ll use for that, so you zero in on the tostada shells you chose rather than tortilla chips because its much more crispier.

Opening the fridge, you see the laughing cow on a round packaging and decide its the one, so you grab two cheese wedges from it.

Sirius had argued that the next aisle had actual, real blocks of cheese with a variety on display and that there was no point in getting artificially flavored ones. But you’ve gotten really good at giving him the stank face, which inadvertently ends 75 percent of nonsense bickering before it even starts; and since you’ve started showing more and more, sirius has admittedly gone softer on you, not that he was ever more but a pushover your entire relationship. Merely widening of eyes and a jut of your lower lip, even adding a slight tremble or two during times where you did actually fuck up, sirius can’t hold his stance longer than a minute before sighing and taking you in his arms. he might call you out for being a brat at times, but there’s no denying he loves it. And so the artificial wheel of cheese wedges got purchased and bagged home, and you’re meticulously spreading it over the golden shells, leaving little to no gaps of it bare.

Laying it on another paper towel, your heart gets giddy on your chest knowing you’re in for a treat tonight. But not quite time to start munching, the baby reminds you that you still need something tangy to complete the meal. So comes your big predicament, should you get dill pickles or tomato salsa?

It took you ten seconds too long of weighing down the pros-and-cons of choosing one and feeling like you made the wrong choice if you end up not liking it. It doesn’t help that the pregnancy hormones make you more anxious and tend to put you always on the verge of tears. So when the not-so-groundbreaking idea of just eating them both hits you, you feel the weight slide off your shoulders as you sigh. Because again, who’s gonna tell you that eating pickles this late at night can give you bad acid reflux, your snoozing husband? Pfft.

Snacking on some, you do manage to pick out the juiciest looking pickle chips and lay them atop of your tostadas. You and the little one are beyond excited to dive in. It’s looking like a mini upside-down pizza with the cheese spread first then the pickle as toppings. Only thing left now was the the tomato salsa slathered on top to seal the deal.

Opening tight lids wasn’t an issue for you before, in fact, you took pride when friends hand you a jar or bottle to open because you could do it in a breeze. Chances were, the lid wasn’t even screwed on that tight, you were just built different, you’d say with a shrug once you give the items back. So when the tomato jar doesn’t budge after two attempts, you get puzzled.

Maybe your hands were slippery? You wipe them down with a tea towel and try again. No.

You weren’t holding it tight enough? Fingers held taut against the lid, you try three times. Still no.

Determined, you try different positions before letting the jar go, shooting it glares as if it’d get intimidated and just open up for you. You were also getting lightheaded, and passing out on the kitchen floor due to excessive stimulation of your vagal reflex because you were too stubborn to use magic or wake your husband up to open it for you doesn’t seem like the best way to spend the early Tuesday morning hours.

Magic was even out of the option (well, in your brain it was), because your wand’s tucked beside sirius’s on your nightstand, and frankly, you don’t have the patience to drag yourself upstairs just to flick a utility spell to open the wretched thing. So you do the next best option: lose hope.

The disappointment was mutual between you and your baby. And the acid reflux did start to kick in, making your stomach grumble in both hunger and pain. This was all going so well until it isn’t, tears began to make its way up to your eyes.

“See, this is what you get for being greedy and eating all snacks by yourself,” sirius huffs behind you, deep voice still raspy with sleep. You didn’t even hear him getting out of bed and coming down the stairs, that’s how preoccupied you were with opening the jar.

He grabs the container away from you to open it, but not without throwing a scowl at your direction, handsome face contorted with furrowed eyebrows and downturned mouth, enough to express that he felt betrayed by this whole ordeal. If you were in a better mood, you’d poke his sides and tackle him playfully, teasing him for being sulky. But for now, you need the jar opened so you could eat in peace. You’ll deal with the sharing food issue later.

“t wasn’t supposed to take long,” you mumble, caught off guard and refusing to make eye contact, pretending the fridge magnets beside sirius’s head is ten times more interesting than his face. You don’t miss his raised eyebrow and snort at your response.

The second attempt comes and he opens it with a satisfying pop. your mouth falls agape, eyeing the *now accessible* tomato salsa dip in disbelief. What the hell?

And you couldn’t even take the smug grin spreading across sirius’s face by the millisecond. Refuse to. You try to snatch the open container away from him but he holds it higher and out of reach, making a show of puffing his chest, flexing his biceps, even giving it a kiss. This is all James’s doing, you need to have a talk with Lily soon about keeping these two separated.

“Sirius!” you try to plead your way out. the trademark innocent, pouty expression settles on your face like a second mask, hoping he’d go down this easy.

It doesn’t work. He just chuckles, mocking your pleas and face while his free hand sneaks up and pinches your unsuspecting cheek to tease you further.

You yelp in mock outrage and swat his hand away, trying your best to keep your displeasure firm on your face, but you feel the giggles coming up. “This is why I sneak out alone to eat, you’re such a bully,” you huff, but take a seat in front of your makeshift spread.

Sirius places the jar near you, but not without poking your exposed sides, armed with the knowledge that the easiest way to get you laughing (and eventually conceding in an argument) is knowing where your tickle zones are. “Oh yeah,” he drawls, plopping himself beside you. “That’s also why you’re the only one waking up with an upset stomach, stinking up our bathroom so early in the morning.”

Now this one got you appalled, embarrassed, disturbed, basically hit with all the feelings. You’ve been living together long before you got married, and he never brought up this issue until today. “That’s it. I’m leaving.” He makes a move to snatch the sandwich away but the embarrassment on your cheeks made you more agile, swatting his hand away and shielding the sandwich with your hands. “After I finish my meal,” you continue, shooting him a glare.

But see, one of the things that drove you nuts even way back at Hogwarts, was how Sirius Black mostly managed to outsmart you or be one step ahead of you in everything. After you turned him down without much thought whatsoever despite his grand declaration of interest, Sirius took it upon himself to show you (1) that you made a mistake for rejecting him, (2) that his ego won’t let you embarrass him like that again, (3) and that you won’t get rid of him that easily. Once he set his eyes on you, you were face to face with him in everything: grades, OWLs/NEWTs scores, Quidditch plays and bets, wins at the duelling club, even with the fucking gobstones tournament. He never let you catch a break.

Things were surely different now, since you vowed to be with him in sickness and health and untill death parts you both– hell, you’re carrying his child. So you figured maybe, maybe, he’ll let you catch a break this time. Let you eat in peace as you mull over his bathroom comment and how you’re going to get him back.

But again, no. Unlike you, Sirius remembered to grab his wand from the nightstand. Not even batting an eye, he says nonchalantly, “Accio sandwich.” And the fluffernutter you protected with all your physical might managed to escape your watch, and land gracefully on his waiting palm.

What irritated you more from this whole ordeal? The prodigal auror that climbed his way up the ranks and became the youngest deputy director, fully capable of complex spells and wielding different kinds of magic, felt the need to do a verbal Accio spell just to make a point to you.

Out of words, you just stare at him blankly. Too stunned to even cry in frustration because you knew you made a conscious, willing choice to be with this man.

Maybe your best guilt-tripping expression comes best when you’re not trying. Color drains from his face when you remained silent and he scrambles to take a bite off the sandwich before handing it back to you, or rather placing it on your limp hand as you refuse to acknowledge it, still too hurt to budge. “‘m sorry, baby. Just wanted to eat with you since we didn’t get to earlier.”

He did arrive later than usual, deciding to finish the stack of case files and paperwork so he won’t have to sift through them again the next day. There were plans to wait for him before eating, but when the jitteriness and slightly nausea started to kick in, you had no choice in the matter. Sirius had been sulky and clingy the moment he got home, and as compromise, you stayed to watch him eat; listening and reacting animatedly as he ranted about his stressful day.

So you cut him off some slack, also exhausted from all the emotional stimulation sirius brought since he woke up. As a silent peace offering (also because you’re not ready to say sorry to his face), you slide the tostadas within his reach and finally take your bite of the goddamn sandwich. It was good, tasted as expected, sweet peanut butter. You’d probably have it again as a drunk at 3am meal.

Sirius also went and got snacks of his own: microwaved popcorn, pickles, toasted bread slathered with butter, and grapes. Together, you munched on the little spread of random food you could find in your kitchen at 4am in comfortable silence, which is surprising after the earlier bickering. No matter how cheesy it sounded in your head, sirius was the only person that can drive you to the brink of insanity and right back. You were in for a hell of a ride for the foreseeable future; and while there’s a lot of uncertainty right now and changes to be made when the little one gets here, you’re beyond happy that you get to do all this with him.

Sleep was beginning to creep up on you. Of course he notices this right when you do, so a warm arm wrapped across your back urges you to settle on his lap, bodies melding into the familiar crevices like puzzle pieces, though you both had to adjust certain angles to accommodate your growing belly. You sit like this for a while; your head tucked securely in the crook of his neck, steady breaths lulling you to sleep, while sirius’s hands instinctively finds its way under your sleep shirt and on the natural curve of your belly, lithe fingers stroking and drawing soothing circles anywhere he could reach.

you wish you could stay like this forever– cozy and soft and safe– but alas, you were carrying sirius black’s offspring. the baby decides to reward you with a round of kicks, probably giddy after feeling their father’s touch. Sirius chuckles and coos at your bump, while a muffled groan leaves your lips from the sudden onslaught of movement, but still refusing to move from this comfortable position.

Smooth cold lips touch the side of your forehead and you relish in the feeling. “Does it ever hurt, love? All that kicking and wiggling?”

“Not really,” a content sigh leaves your lips. “Feels strange at times, seeing your belly move on its own.”

To prove your point, two tiny bulges make a split second appearance just above where Sirius’s hand lay. His thumb soothes the area lovingly.

“Definitely getting stronger though; Lily told me during the later months, harry for some reason loved to kick downwards, making bathroom trips more frequent than it already is. Not excited for that.”

He presses kisses on your forehead, temple, hairline, anywhere he could reach without moving too much. “Things that you do and endure for this ‘lil troublemaker,” sirius murmurs. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, you could feel his body reverberating with awe and fondness. You try to bask in it for as long as you could, but a passing thought makes its presence known to you again.

“Do i really make the bathroom stink?” it comes out whinier than you intended it to be but you just had to know for peace of mind.

Sirius’s whole frame vibrates as he tries to stifle his laughter, taking you with him. He’s laughing at your expense but you feel your own giggles brewing in your belly. You try to hold it in for longer, preserving some self respect. “A little bit,” he says solemnly. You groan, earlier mortified feeling returning in full swing. It triggers another round of chuckles.

“But dove, it’s nothing that my deep love and adoration for my lovely strong hot and sexy wife can’t handle.” He says assuredly, and you curse yourself for being so down bad for this man as blood rushes to your cheeks from his words. Good thing it’s dim and your face is still tucked in the crook of his neck.

You do pinch his arm in response, and both your laughters compliment the comfortable silence.

“Although,” he says after a while. “The betrayal of you eating without me still hurts.”

“Siri.. i’m sorry,” you mumble. “‘y looked so tired, Didn’t wanna wake you up.”

He tuts and doesn’t say much after that. In sirius dictionary, this means he just wants some affection from you— for you to dote on him and coax out his forgiveness, even if you both know he’s not really mad; judging by his arms still wrapped securely around your frame and steady breaths that tickle and fan on your bare skin.

So you mimic his actions from earlier, planting tiny kisses on his neck, collarbones, jawline, anywhere your lips could reach. Kissing his cheek seem to do the trick, his fake scowl quickly coming undone as a bashful smile breaks through the frown, and his tiny dimple you love so much making an appearance. The muggle maternity books did say dimples are genetic, so an image of a little Sirius running around and smiling up at you with those dimpled cheeks is a warming thought.

“I am charming all the lids to be stuck at night as soon as i wake up tomorrow for work.” You poke a sensitive spot on his side, making him jolt, but you couldn’t resist laughter as it bubbles out of the surface. “You’re insufferable, I can’t believe I married a psychopath.”

“And you let him knock you up too. I’d say it takes one to know one, hm?”

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obsessedwithmiguel · 2 months

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My headcanons of O'Hara in a relationship.

▪︎ Not very affectionate at first.

▪︎ If he were to kiss you, it would mostly be on the forehead, hand or lips.

▪︎ He doesn't mind showing that he has a partner and that that partner is you. Only he is reserved with his private life and doesn't like nosy people.

▪︎ If you speak Spanish, you're screwed. He would be speaking Spanish to you almost most of the time.

▪︎ If you don't speak Spanish, he will teach you. There will even be times when he would try to remember an English word because he only knows it in Spanish. Of course, he refuses to use a translator, much less Duolingo.

▪︎ He is more patient with you and more expressive than with anyone else.

▪︎ He might be like he is, but he can get romantic when he wants to.

▪︎ He DEFINITLY is the big spoon when you cuddle. No excuses.

▪︎ He might teach you how to dance Bachata, Salsa or/and Merengue.

▪︎He will not openly say that he has a partner. He will just stay quiet while enjoying your company. Don't get him wrong, he dreamily doesn't like people getting into his private life, that's all.

▪︎ If you both argue, he will have an internal struggle. It depends if the fault is his or yours. If you're the guilty, he will wait for you to apologies.

▪︎ If you talk to much he will listen, but if he's drained from work, he'll just give you a clear hint that he wants some silence.

▪︎ He doesn't care about how you look. He won't criticize you for it.

▪︎ If someone flirts with you, he will give them a death stare. People write him as someone possesive. He might be, but not like a maniac. He will just do that.

▪︎ He won't try to make you jelous. It just feels wrong.

▪︎ If he comes late to a date or your home, he will apologies and pull you close as he stares with sleepy eyes before giving you a soft and short kiss.

▪︎ Loves, loves, loves when you stroke his scalp. It relaxes him in some way, making him forget about some stuff that gets him in a really bad moon. It also soothes the headaches that he gets for staring at the screens too long of because of stress.

▪︎ Will call you in Spanish nicknames like: Mi amor (my love), cariño (honey), etc. I don't see him like calling you with more than two nicknames. Unless you tease him, he will get creative.

▪︎ He's not into nicknames. He will just ignore when you call him names. (Personally, I would call him 'Miguelillo' just for the tease.)

▪︎ He will take care of you if you get sick. You are very important to him, so much that it makes him feel bad when he sees you in this state

▪︎ If you suffer from migraine, his voice will be very soft.

▪︎ He prefers simple dates. Like watching movies, walking on the streets, etc.

#miguel o’hara headcanon #miguel o'hara x you #atsv headcanons #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader

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demetris-cocksleeve · 1 year

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(A/n: Disclaimer- I don't know French; I took Mandarin in high school instead lmao. I asked my sister who took it (she failed but google wasn't helping😂) and she said to default to the male version of ma chère/mon cher if the gender isn't stated, so blame her if it's wrong lol)

Word Count: 1,724

Summary- Everyone knows that some actions are just objectively more attractive than others. But which of these actions represent the brothers?

Warnings: Allusions to spicy moments in Mammon's, Asmo's and Belphegor's

Age Rating: Pg 13

Obey Me Brothers x Things That Are Attractive

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Lucifer as- Pulling you in by the waist:

"There you go. Just like that." Lucifer guides.

"I feel ridiculous," you say as you step to the side with your right foot and slide the left back into position.

He had taken it upon himself to teach you how to dance. Which, on the surface isn't bad in itself, but when you dig a little deeper and find the two left feet you were 'blessed' with, it becomes slightly more daunting.

"You don't look it," He assures you as he leads you through an improvised spin.

Coming back in, your hands find their place on his shoulders as you waltz around the empty ballroom. He dips you low, arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you upright once more. Though, instead of resuming the steps, Lucifer keeps you in place; his arm tightening around you until what little space between you is gone.

Your hands are pinned against his chest as you look up to him. There's a look in his eyes that you can't quite decipher, and you don't know if you should try to.

"Despite your self-acclaimed 'two left feet', I think it's safe to say you have successfully learned the waltz." You can feel his minty breath fan your face with how close his is.

"What a shame," you tease. "Looks like you won't be needing to teach me anymore."

You earn a soft 'hah' as he leans impossibly closer with a smirk that shouldn't have you feeling the way you do. "On the contrary. You'll be learning the Salsa next."

Mammon as- Pinning your hands above your head:

"No!" You yell as you're knocked down.

"Gotcha!" Mammon cheers as he reaches for your phone.

He has you on the bed, legs on either side of you as he attempts to get rid of the picture of him sleeping.

"C'mon! You look so cute in it!" Your attempt to reason falls on deaf ears as he fails to snatch your phone again.

"I'm literally droolin' ya dummy!"

In a last-ditch attempt to preserve the photo, you stretch your arm above your head as his grapples you for it.

The end result is both your wrists in one of Mammon's hands as his other works on deleting the picture. He tosses the phone to the side once he's done.

"You learn your lesson yet? Don't mess with The Great Mammon!" He smirks down at you, chest heaving from exertion.

The sight of you pinned under him, hands held above your head as you look up at him has him gulping. His free hand comes up to grip the side of your jaw, tilting your head up just the slightest.

"I think I should make sure ya learned yer lesson~"

Leviathan as- Spinning hugs:

"Yes!" Leviathan cheers from beside you as the monster finally falls after what seems like hours.

He had called you to his room to help with a level of a new game he got. What he didn't tell you was that it was the final boss, and it was only a P1 game.

So, without any introduction or in-depth explanation you were thrust into an insanely difficult level. If you're being honest, you were kind of just spamming the controller and hoping for the best. What you didn't expect was actually making progress and killing the damned thing.

Levi jumps up as he celebrates. You can't help but laugh at his antics as you're pulled to join him. Deciding there's no harm -you're in his room with the door shut, who's gonna see?- you play along. Cheering and jumping alongside him.

You let out a yelp as he wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up. Your yelp turns to laughter when he twirls you around before nuzzling into your neck.

"I can't believe you actually did it! I've been trying to beat that thing for days!" He's quick to pull you into a kiss, face bright red when you separate. Your foreheads rest together as any residual laughter fades.

Satan as- Lifting you to reach something:

"Satannnnnn!" You whine. "I need helppppp!"

You can hear his unamused sigh from a couple sections down.

"What could you possibly need help with? We're in the library for hell's sake..." His voice gets steadily closer as he makes his way to the bookshelf you're in front of.

He rounds the corner to see you on your tiptoes as you try to reach a book. You look to him for help but only receive a deadpan.

"Really?" He crosses his arms. "There is literally a step ladder 10 feet from you."

"Yeah, but now you're only 4 feet from me."

Satan turns to walk away but you're quick to grab his arm.

"Please? You and I both know that with my luck, I'll probably fall off the thing." You both know the only reason is because you want to annoy him.

"Not my problem." He starts to walk again, only this time you rush in front of him.

"But books read better when they're from you." You got a small huff of amusement so that's something.

"Do they now?" Wow, he's actually playing along.

"Yup," you nod as believable as you can.

There's a second of silence before he breaks. "Fine. Which one do you want?"

Dragging him over, you expect him to reach up and snag the title off of the shelf. What actually happens is that he places both hands on either side of your waist and lifts you until you're eye level with the book.

Shaking off the shock, you quickly grab it before he decides to drop you.

"Thanks," You mutter when he sets you down, face hot both with embarrassment and at the display of strength.

Satan simply hums in acknowledgment as he walks away, leaving you standing clutch your book to your chest.

Asmodeus as- Neck/jaw kisses:

"Darling~" Asmo drawls from his bed, head hanging off the side to look at you.

"Yes?" You sigh as he drones for your attention for the nth time.

You need to get this essay done before tomorrow, but the Avatar of lust doesn't want to make it that easy for you. When he had invited you to his room to 'study' you should have seen through the fib but you hadn't. So here you are, stuck trying to get work done with a perpetually horny demon vying for your attention.

"I'm bored, mon cher." He rolls off the bed and hangs himself on you, arms over your shoulders, chest against your back and chin resting on your shoulder.

"And I'm trying to finish this."

"C'mon..." His head lifts from its position to nuzzle into your neck. "You're not the least bit tempted to take even the smallest of breaks?"

His soft lips graze your skin with each syllable. A feather light, kiss presses itself against the column of your neck.

"Asmo, I really need to work on this..." Despite your words, your head still lilts to the side allowing him to trail his kisses up to your jaw.

"You know you want to~" Asmodeus chimes, voice sending vibrations through you. "Take a break." He presses another kiss to your jaw.

"Just for a few minutes..." Another kiss.

"Ugh." You move to save your progress. "Fine. 15 minutes and then I get back to work."

"That's all I need, my dear." You can hear the smirk.

Beelzebub as- Licking something off their finger:

"You can't eat that, yet!" You cackle as Beelzebub sticks his finger in the cake batter.

"But it looks good..." He's looking at you, finger still in the mixing bowl. You can't help the face you make when he says that. The sugar hasn't even been added yet, there's no way it would taste good.

You tell him so, only to receive silence as he takes his finger out and slowly moves it to his mouth.

"That's just going to taste like flour and eggs, Beel." You try to reason.

He looks you right in the eye as his lips close around his batter-covered digit. Beelzebub keeps looking at youas he sucks the liquid off his finger. With a *pop*, his finger comes out clean and it's all you can do to not grimace at what the taste must be.

"It's good." He says.

Beel dips his finger in the batter once more, only to hold it out to you. "Taste it."

The corners of your mouth pull down as you lean away. "I think I'm good, actually."

"Humor me?"

He's holding your gaze as he continues to offer the batter to you. Looking between his finger and face, you concede. He'll just keep trying until you taste it, so you say:

"Fine, but I'm not swallowing it."

With that you grab his wrist to stabilize as you tentatively lick at the batter. Surprisingly, it's not bad -Beel must have added the sugar when you weren't looking. Upon seeing your reaction, Beelzebub pushes his finger to your lips.

Deciding it's easier to just play along, you let the digit enter, maintaining eye contact. Your tongue swirls around the digit, getting all of the batter off.

With one final suck, he slides his finger out of your mouth, fingertip resting against your lip before dropping and pulling your bottom lip with it a bit as it goes.

The kitchen is silent as you hold his heavy gaze.

Belphegor as- Lazy morning make outs:

Your lips slot together slow and steady in the bath of golden light that is Belphegor's bed.

Both of you had just woken and, in an attempt to neither wake up or slip back into the sweet embrace of sleep (damned RAD classes...), you'd somehow found yourselves lip locked.

Your legs are tangled under the blankets as the two of you move in sync. Nothing else important enough to draw your attention away from the other.

His hand is in your hair, keeping you close as he bites on your bottom lip. The noise you let loose enough for him to make it his mission to drag more sweet sounds from you. Your own hands come up to push on Belphegor's chest to until he's lying on his back with you laying on top of him. His other arm slides up your back, a grunt leaving his lips when you roll your hips down.

"Fuck-"

A knock interrupts your moment.

"Get up. You're not going to be late again." Lucifer's voice is muffled by the door, but it doesn't lessen just how over everything he sounds.

#lucifer x mc #mammon x mc #leviathan x mc #satan x mc #asmodeus x mc #beelzebub x mc #belphegor x mc #obey me x reader

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humansofnewyork · 1 year

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“Maybe something happened. Maybe I’ll be driving to the softball game, and I’m sad. Cause something bad happened. I’m gonna keep that moment kinda private. If I need to talk through it, I’ll call someone. So when it’s time to step out of the car, I’m happy. I like to keep that image. This guy Jay, he’s always happy. If you talk to Jay, he’ll brighten up your day. Sometimes it drives the guys at work crazy. I work in Sanitation. Our shift starts at 5 AM. These guys are coming in from all over: they’re tired, they’re dragging. But I’m whistling. I’ve got my Dunkin Donuts coffee. I’m saying: good morning, bro. What’s up? We’re about to make some money. Good, honest day’s work. Every time you get to the end of the block, you look back. You see the whole block is nice and clean, the sidewalk’s nice and clean. So I’m smiling. The guys call me Smiley. Billy started that. He said I’m the only one who comes to work smiling. But I’m like: how can you not be happy? Maybe it’s just the way the dominos have fallen for me. I have great friends, a great career, a great family. My brother is like my best buddy. Been dating a girl for three years. She teaches dance to little kids. We go out dancing together, salsa dancing. Yo, she’s great man. It’s like, how could I ever have a bad day? Been that way since I was a kid. Nobody could put me down. In the morning I’d be like: Another day of school? Let’s do it! And listen, when I got home, if Grandma made the skirt steak. With the rice and beans, and the plantains. She’d be like: yo, Jay. Tonight I made your favorite. And bro, I would get hyped.”

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anonymouscheeses · 2 months

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Slow dancing.

Pomni only knows how to slow dance and that's about it. Ragatha has no idea how to dance, so when Pomni teaches her, she immeadiately wants to start fast dancing like a salsa or somethn 🤭 (idk anything abt dancing I'm a hispanic loser 💜💜)

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 7 months

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I bet Miguel can cook REALLY well.

Like CRAZY WELL.

Being a dad he did have to come up with something to eat for dinner every night

And with Gabriella being a bit picky, sometimes he had to get creative

And some of his favorite memories are the conversations he and Gabbie had while dinner was on the stove

But even now, he loves it. Miguel finds he act of cooking so relaxing. He likes the peace and the order of it

And even if he comes in really really late from HQ - he'll still try and cook something

Fighting sleep while cooking a quesadilla on the stove

He's a Sazon loyalist SORRY ADOBO STANS

There's always tortillas, sour cream and salsa verde in his fridge - freshly made

(if you got those you can figure something out)

And he grows his own cilantro and basil on the window sill

And he'll never use powdered garlic, only fresh

Yes he can eat garlic - yes people on campus ask him that a lot

(he's hot ACTUALLY a vampire)

His seafood is TO DIE FOR

Miguel can make amazing lobster tail, or crab legs (with Old Bay and butter of course)

And his Ceviche is SO GOOD and SO FRESH

Most likely makes everything spicy. It's not even that he 'loves' spicy food - He just makes it spicy AF and acts like he doesn't notice

MEANWHILE you're next to him and it hurts to breathe

He and Hobie are bean stans.

Miguel loves them in Chilli con Carne, with rice, refried, you name it

and Hobie goes through those British blue cans of Heinz baked beans like it's nobodies business

They both think beans are underrated

Makes AMAZING MOLE and even better Tamales

But you have to BEG him for weeks on end to get him to make Tamales cause he can't be bothered - and he will make you help

He likes Avocado, like in general. On toast, with eggs, guacamole use always a staple

He'll often just eat chips and guacamole the whole day in his office and he'll get pissed if the food court is out of it.

Well look at a corn shell ground beef taco and be like 'You think that's a taco? Is that what you honestly believe?'

Loves cooking with other people - in fact Miguel actually just likes working with people in general. That's why Lyla has a personality.

He's good at guiding others during cooking and teaching them things and not bossing them around

OBSESSED LIKE CONCERNINGLY SO

With mango and Tajin

He'll put Tajin seasoning on ANYTHING - the first time Jess saw him put it on watermelon she was like 'what for????'

But he loves fruit in general, watermelon, lychee, guava. A lot of them are grown fresh in the Society gardens

Strawberries are a favorite of his. Gabriella loved strawberries on pancakes

He pronounces lychee - Leechee (not Lie-chee)

He's the fucking PRO at protein shakes and milkshakes

The man needs workout fuel and whey powder and kale and potassium and-

He's in the kitchen 5am getting ready for the gym

Making a shit ton of peanut butter strawberry banana and oats protein smoothie with coconut milk and honey to sweeten

Because he does have a sweet tooth.

Jolly Ranchers are an oral fixation

You can hear him sucking on one, the quiet clacking of it.

Or see him press it into his cheek, lost in thought

But baking and sweets are his secret love

He just doesn't have anyone to test it on anymore - so he doesn't

His flan is the best, and it was one of Gabbie's show faves

He eats parfaits pretty often, and makes them a lot for Jess (and she teases it for it)

Miguel LOVES tres leches cake, as sweet as possible. And fancy stuff like creme brulee

Don't tell anyone but he actually really likes cheesecake he acts like it's a secret

With him cooking get ready for the most sugariest breakfast ever. It's a dad thing.

Whipped cream, fruits, syrup, chocolate chips, you name it.

Sure Miguel shouldn't have been giving Gabriella THAT much sugar THAT early - but with you it's fine so enjoy the stomach ache in two hours

Another dad thing:

COOK OUT FOOD.

Him and Peter get INTENSE.

Miguel swears by charcoal grills, Peter likes propane and gas

Miguel is the tio with the best Hot dogs and relish that HITS

Peter is the burger dad who spends an insane amount of money on Angus beef

Miguel judges your hot dog toppings but says nothing

His ELOTE???? EUPHORIC

Like,,, it'll bring you to tears it's so good - I don't know how he does it

And when it comes to cooking he's ALWAYS willing to learn

He'd rather invite you over and cook you something than going out to eat

He'll learn something you like or where you're from and make something from there

Even better if you can teach him how to make something - the two of you can make it together

But his favorite part by far is setting it down at the table, trying not to seem like he's watching your reaction

And seeing your face light up at the first bite

Or even better -

Seeing you collapse into bed with a food coma

Miguel with cooking and food as a love language

#yes please #spiderman #atsv #marvel #spider man #across the spiderverse #Miguel Ohara #Miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #Miguel O'hara x reader #Miguel Ohara x reader #Miguel x you #gabriella o’hara

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writing-relatedactivities · 5 months

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A Very Ask A Manager Thanksgiving

So I love advice blogs (I maintain that comment sections on advice blogs are the best free tool for writers to explore different viewpoints, which really enriches your characterization), and for a few years now, I have had this idea that I want to do a do an Ask A Manager themed dinner, purely to delight myself. Meant to do it as a cookout this summer, but timing never worked out, so I broached the idea of doing it for Thanksgiving. My partner, who is also a nerd and therefore very supportive of my advice blog love even though it is not one of their interests, was down, with their only condition being that I should still make my cider bread with maple butter.

The menu:

Appetizers

Chips with:

Guacamole in honor of Guacamole Bob, of "ordering extra guacamole is wasteful of member dues” fame. (This being on the menu may also have been a factor in Partner being willing to have our holiday take on an Ask A Manager theme, as I once took a community education course on grilling that taught me nothing about its ostensible subject matter but did teach me to make a bomb-ass guacamole. The secret is that your first step should be to pulverize an entire head of garlic into a paste in your mocajete.)

Three store bought salsas, where the trick is to "fold" the salsa to get the best flavor

A bottle of hot sauce so we can get fired after a coworker steals our spicy food

Main Course

"Duck club" sandwiches in honor of the secret office sex club where you get points for sex in different locations, and quacking is involved. (These were very decadent and if anyone's interested in a great duck recipe, I used the Duck with Lemon recipe from A Feast of Ice and Fire.)

Sides

Cheap-ass rolls that I definitely deliberately brought to upstage you, yes you, the person who signed up to bring Hawaiian rolls! It's definitely not an overreaction on your part to declare that "they can all take Santa and stick it up their ass!" You're definitely not getting fired for being wildly hostile! (These are actually homemade rolls, but I weighed "buy actually cheap rolls and be done" or "spend a couple hours adapting a corgi butt roll recipe to a human butt roll," and chose in favor of the pun.)

Dessert

Bribery cupcakes, from that time a letter writer brought some cupcakes over to chat with her neighbor, the son of the Chief of Police, about a disruptive noise issue in her workplace and some commenters decided this constituted bribing a public servant. (The recipe is in the comments on that link; I made the carrot cake version. However, I realized halfway through that I was somehow low on vanilla despite obsessively buying fancy vanilla extract every time I am in a spice shop, along with a bunch of other things I don't need because buying cool spices makes me feel like a wizard. Anyway, half of these had vanilla in the filling/icing, and the other half had cardamom extract.)

A birthday cake that somehow crosses boundaries by...being too fancy? Being paid for a staff person? Not involving the wife in the planning? Anyway, the real answer to the letter writer's question is, "Eh, I don't think it's a big deal" because different offices have different norms around birthdays and it's whatever, but sometimes a low-stakes office norms question hits just right and you get 630 comments of people debating The One True Way to Do Office Birthdays, and whether or not buying a cake means you're angling for an affair. (Okay, not all the comments are about that particular letter. Anyway, I picked up this fancy-ass cake at Marc Heu Patisserie, and appropriately enough, the guy ahead of me in line was picking up a cake for his boss.)

And of course, what Ask A Manager column would be complete without chocolate teapots?

Beverages

Mudslides, because "girls love chocolate." And magic tricks. And being played "You're So Vain" on the piano with a mournful stare. Partner and I are both notorious lightweights but I had been snacking all day as I cooked so I was mostly immune. Partner took one sip of this drink and immediately began loudly telling me how their one colleague doesn't sing enough to his Pre-K students, and "this classroom will do anything if you sing to them!" After dinner, they lay down on the floor and sang the Slippery Fish song.

The full spread:

#ask a manager #askamanager #alison green #thanksgiving #cooking #adventures in nerdery

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briefalpacashark · 10 months

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!!!!Miles can Salsa!!!!

Miles X reader. Miles 42

For some reason, I just believe that Miles is a really good dancer. I strongly believe his mum would drag him to the dance floor to teach him how.

There you stood, in front of the door that lead out to the roof for Miles' apartment complex. My hands rung the yellow sun dress I wore before nervously fixing my hair. Beyond the door I heard the chatter of people, the sound of music and the sweet, sweet smell of Rio's cooking. I would never tell my dad, but damn, Rio's cooking was the best in the world. I don't know how I could think about food at that moment. My stomach was doing flips. Why was I so nervous you ask? Well, I had been to these cookouts for eighteen years. You would think I would have the hang of it by now. Well, this time it was different. You see, for eighteen years I had been coming to these gatherings as Miles' friend. Now I was going as Miles' girlfriend. Girlfriend. The word still brought a stupid, giddy smile to my face. Remembering back to how he had asked me, I couldn't help but chuckle. Shaking my head, I took a deep breath. It wouldn't be any different. I had grown up with these people. Plus, Miles and I had only made it official a few days ago, there's no way they would know, right? Cheeking my bag to make sure I still had Miles present, I pushed open the door. As I stepped out, everything seemed to stop as everyone turned to me.

“Uh, hi guys,” my voice cracked as I did a little wave. They totally know.

“Ehhhhhhh, there she is!” Uncle Tito exclaimed and before I knew it, I was rushed by smiling faces, everyone hugging me and congratulating me.

“Welcome to the family, Nina!” Miles' cousin exclaimed picking me up and spinning me around. I stumbled slightly when I was put back down, smiling as an auntie brought me in, kissing my cheeks.

“I'm so glad. You just won me quite a bit oh money,” she chuckled cheekily before shuffling off. I frowned, only to spot Miles trying to make his way through the crowd.

“Hey, hey let her breath you animals,” he ordered, stepping up to my side, placing a hand on my lower back and shooing his family and friends away. Reluctantly, they did so.

“Well, you certainly made an entrance.” Underneath his calm and cool exterior, I caught a brief glimpse of the nervous boy he once was. He was embarrassed by how his family acted, even more embarrassed by the fact that the reason they acted that was was because he had blabbed to everyone he knew that we were finally together. I smirked, rising to my tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips, an act that still made us blush.

“What was that for?” he asked, slightly dazed.

“Happy birthday Miles,” I said. Hearing a loud wolf whistle, I blushed, dropping my head to Miles' chest as he sighed, fighting off the embarrassment as he half glared at his family members that called out some saucy comments.

“Where is she? Is she here?” Rio pushed through the crowd, her eyes setting on me.

“There she is, my daughter-in-law,” Rio opened her arms out as she rushed towards us.

“Mum,” Miles groaned.

“Oh stop it,” Rio waved dismissively at him, taking my hands.

“Thankyou, I know your way out of his league and I know he sometimes smells,” I laughed at Rios words.

“Mum. Are you serious right now?” Miles asked, running a hand down his braids.

“Callado, come, I want you to tell me everything,” Rio waved dismissively at her son before she hooked her arm on mine and dragged me away.

Translation=(Be Quiet)

Later that night, when Rio had finally let me go, I stood by the barbeque beer in hand with Miles. He sat on a large esky with me planted between his legs, one arm around my thigh, his large palm pressed against the soft skin, just under the hem of my dress. Little did I know, but he was thoroughly enjoying himself. The fact that I was now his girlfriend and that he was able to hold me like this made him tingle. Noticing Miles' gaze on the makeshift dance floor, I reached up, rubbing his shoulder, gaining his attention.

“Wanna dance?” I asked. I didn't feel offended by the chuckle of laugher he let out. They knew me for being a terrible dancer. Last time I took to the floor, I almost knocked my dancer partner off the roof.

“Nah, not tonight, had too much to drink,” he said, holding up only this third beer. I expected that answer. He hadn't danced in a long time.

“Well, if you won't. Mi Señora,” Uncle Tito offered me, his hand seeming to appear out of nowhere.

“Your funeral man,” Miles shrugged. I propped an eyebrow at his condescending tone.

“Wow, ill show you,” I huffed, gently slapping my bottle to his chest, to which he grabbed it.

“Oh, come on, I'm sorry I,” he huffed, but I had already taken Uncle Tito's hand and let him lead me to the dance floor. Everyone expected a shit show, and some even moved to block the ledge.

Only they were all pleasantly surprise as I spun on the balls of my feet taking the perfect salsa position. Then the music started and boy did I dance.

Miles' jaw literally dropped as he watched me. I was actually dancing. I was performing a perfect salsa. I was moving and stepping to the beat, spinning on the balls of my feet, all guided by Uncle Tito. Everyone was shocked, to say the least. Not to toot my own horn, but I was doing a damn good job. I could feel Miles' eyes on me, on my hips as they rolled and shock to the beat. He had to admit it was hot.

“She's been taking lessons, wanted to surprise you,” Rio whispered next to her son's ear.

“You knew about this?” Miles asked, gesturing to me.

“Who do you think taught her that hip roll?” Rio asked, gesturing to the wide hip roll I threw out.

“She's good, right?” Rio asked, nudging him.

“Eah, I guess she is,” he muttered.

“Well, if I were you I would step in before your uncle steals your girlfriend,” Rio's suggestion had Miles chuckling. Although, as his uncle threw you into a dip, his hand catching your knee did tickle his jealousy. And the way you smiled and laughed brightly at it. Taking a sip of beer, he shock his head before setting it down and walking up to the dance floor.

“Disculpe, cree que puedo bailar con mi chica?” Miles asked, placing a hand on his uncle's shoulder.

(Excuse me, you think I can dance with my girl?)

“If the ladie wants to dance with you,” Uncle Tito shrugged, leaving the decision up to me.

“You sure Miles? Wouldn't want to send you to an early grave,” I quipped with a challenging smile. He huffed, running his hand down his mouth. As Uncle Tito spun me he slid in between us one arm, taking my waist the other my hand as he continued spinning us out of Tito's reach. We came to a sudden stop, with Miles pulling me into him. The music slowed as his hand snaked around my waist, coming to rest on my lower back. Trailing his other hand up my side and down my arm, he took my hand in his. A minor slip of air left my lips as he pulled me flush against him, and when I say flush, I meant every area. He smirked at my slightly shocked reaction, not wasting my surprise as he started to dance. Now salsa had a rich history. Just like the sauce, it was a mix of everything, Fron tango to rumba to swing dance. It was also a sensual dance. He held me tightly as he rolled his hips to the music, my hips attached to him moving as well. We danced together, doing some basic spins and steps. When I recovered from my shock I huffed in amusement. He had total control. Well, after his comment from before I couldn't let that happen. As he spun me out, I let go of his hand, stepping back. Salsa was a give and take dance. Which meant you went along with anything. Which meant as I walked back he followed. As his arms went to encompass me I ducked under his arm, dragging my hand across his chest and shoulder as I stepped around him. Facing away from him, I popped my leg right between his legs, my foot stopping inches from his groin. Placing it back down, I threw my hip out, bumping into him and sending him stumbling slightly. Everyone watching let out howls of ohhhhh’s. Miles spun back to me, a stunned but impressed look on his face. I smirked, giving him a small shrug as I started to dance again. Now in salsa you could take turns to do a little freestyle. Either to give the other person a chance to rest or to show off a little under the spotlight. And I did, spinning and stepping, finishing with a pop of my chest. I didn't know what had gotten into me. Where all the confidence had come from. Mabey it came from everyone cheering me on. He extended his hand to me and as I place it in his, he used my own trick against me, spinning me around so that my back was pressed to his chest. His hands planted firmly on my hips as he swayed us. Leaning my head back, I reached up rubbing my hand down his cheek.

“Not bad, hey?” I asked.

“I've seen better,” he shrugged.

“Oh, really?” I asked.

“Oh, Mi Amor you haven't seen nothing,” he grinned. I was about to ask him when he spun me around so quickly that when I stopped I barely registered that he was now kneeling, he had used the momentum on my spin to lift my leg and prop it over his shoulder. Slightly off balance my hand reached out clasping the back of his neck for balance. He smirked, his lips pressing to the inner side of my thigh as everyone went crazy. My face flushed a hundreds shades of red as his other hand rose up the back of my other thigh and slightly under my dress.

“Thats my boy!” Uncle Aaron yelled proudly. Bouncing my leg off his shoulder, he stood rolling his body into mine, catching my knee and wrapping it around his waist. His hot breath fanned my face, only inches apart. Stepping back into a lung he lowered us, my other leg outstretched. I almost became a stuttering mess as his hand trailed from my knee up my thigh, grasping it firmly.

“Better?” he asked teasingly. Jotting out a nod, he chuckled, returning us to the standing position. Yet he didn't let me go keeping me close. It was a whirlwind as we spun around each other, Miles now taking the full lead. The dance got faster and faster. Ending in a big bag of sound, to which Miles took me by the waist and knee and dipped me. He couldn't stop his eyes from railing down my cleavage, to the small beads of sweat lining my chest. Slowly raising me back up, he pulled me close.

“That was, well wow,” I struggled to find the words not having to worry much about it when he pressed his lips to mine in a deep hungry kiss. His tongue quickly parted my lips. Another round of wolf whistles sounded, only this time I smiled into the kiss. Miles smiled as well rising his fist in victory earning another round of cheers.

Later that night, Miles and I were dancing again, only this time it was a slow swaying type song. My head rested on his chest. We both glanced to the side where a very drunk Uncle Tito was singing loudly along with the song.

“Well, I've never heard this song before,” I mused. We winced as he sung a particularly high note.

“What you've never head of the most romantic song of all time?” he asked.

“Romantic?” I asked, pulling my eyes away from Tito.

“Oh yeah,” he nodded. Then softly, he started to sing along. I was surprised, he never sung. But hey, I loved it. I wasen't great at Spanish. But as Miles sung sweetly to me I didn't need to know the words. I smiled a rare content smile as we rested our foreheads together.

#miles molares #miles morales #across the spiderverse #into the multiverse #into the spider verse #miles 42 #prowler miles #miles morales prowler #earth 42 #miles x reader #milesxreader

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lucvly · 5 months

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i loved your chris x latina gf hc’s. could you please do one for us matt girls 🙏

— matt with a latina girlfriend hcs! ⸰ 𖥔 ͙

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, not proofread.

a/n: the amount of reqs i got for this omg??? also i feel the need to say i’m latina but i’m not mexican LMAO sorry to disappoint ☹️

— this isn’t matthew anymore this is mateo LMAO.

— my man was nervous about meeting your family. he kind of got freaked out hearing about the amount of people that were gonna be at the gathering.

— he asked you to help him practice greeting your family LMAOO it’s so cute. (“so, no handshakes?” “not unless you wanna get kicked out, mi vida.”)

— the family’s favorite gringo boyfriend !!

— sorry to burst some of your bubbles but this man cannot dance. sorry Not sorry !!! him dancing merengue or salsa would be sooo goofy. you tried teaching him but he just ends up stepping on you.

— your tías always try to dance with him unknowingly and he always steps on them LMFAOOAOA.

— at family gatherings he’s in the kitchen helping your mom cook and serve the food.

— you get a good laugh out of it because when your mom lets him try a spoonful of whatever she’s making his ass always has to drink at least two glasses of water because my god this man can’t tolerate spice.

— he’s always wanting to learn something new about your culture. he thinks the traditions and celebrations are super interesting.

— the fact that you’re incredibly family oriented is so attractive to him help??? he loves it. seeing you interact with your little cousins is so cute to him.

— ++ your little cousins always leech onto him at the gatherings. you’re convinced one of your baby cousins has a crush on him it’s hilarious.

— the first time you called him gringo he was like Huh??? you had to explain what it meant LMAO, your family calls him gringo a lot in a very loving way but it’s still Really funny.

— he’s such a kid bye? he’s exactly like one of those primos who’s absolutely wiped out by 10 pm. you always end up making those makeshift beds with two chairs and a blanket for him so he can take a nap.

— “y el novio?” except now your family just teases you because they know wherever you are, matt’s right there with you.

— your dad loves telling him embarrassing stories about you from back when you were a kid. it’s so bad ugh.

— surprisingly, he’s actually a really good cook. he’ll secretly ask your mom for your favorite recipes and make them for you. you think it’s the cutest thing ever. (he’s not very precise with the spices but he’s getting there.)

— takes spanish lessons without telling you so when you hear him talk to one of your tíos in spanish you’re like ?????

— he can’t roll his r’s SORRY!! you tease him for it all the time, so does your family. he thinks it’s funny because you’ve tried to help him pronounce “carro” or “burrito” over a thousand times and he still can’t do it.

— when he’s not driving, he sits in one of those plastic chairs in the backyard and drinks ice cold beer with your tíos.

— i feel like he’d be terrible at alcohol management so he’d be drunk with around three beers. your tíos get along so well with drunk matt, trust.

— spanish pet names?? he’s all for it. (“cariño”, “corazón”, “querido”.)

— + right before hanging up a call, he goes “te amo.” it’s SOO cute you’re gushing ugh.

— he definitely can’t dance but he loves listening to spanish music. i feel like he’d be a huge romeo santos and ozuna fan. argue w the wall !!

— he was so confused when you told him to take a bite of his cake and then pushed his face onto it. chris and nick were rolling on the floor laughing (he ended up doing it to them as well.)

— he asks if you can get some tres leches for his birthday because he loves it LMAOO. your dad introduced him to tres leches and it’s all he thinks about on a daily basis.

— he’s tried learning the cumpleaños feliz song– and yeah, he knows half of it, but he hasn’t managed to learn it all LMAO.

— if you grew up somewhere else, he desperately wants to go to your hometown just to get to know you better. when you do, he does everything to indulge in your culture. (going to festivals, meeting the people you grew up with, etc.)

— he loves obleas and arroz con leche. he thought arroz con leche was hella odd at first glance but once you convinced him to try it he was addicted HELP??

— ^ your mom gave him some arroz con leche to take back home because of the amount he ate throughout the whole night.

— when your family facetimes you and you’re with him it’s always: “bueno, y la boda cuándo es?” and once they say hello to you, they ask about matt and end up talking to him over the phone for like an hour.

— when you yell at him in spanish he’ll just wait until you stop and then asks you what that meant because he genuinely wants to know. his head is all: “wtf does maldito mean????”

— trying traditional candy from wherever you’re from is sooo funny. he’d be so obsessed with dulce de leche and arroz con leche, but make that man try any sort of candy with coconut in it (cocadas perhaps) and he’s fucking throwing up.

— his personal youtube channel would be active as fuck, at this point it became a vlog for the two of you with videos like: “trying traditional snacks with my gf!”, “cooking competition with y/n (she won)”, “traveling with my girlfriend.”

— he loves how many photo albums your family has. he especially loves your quinceañera album LMFAOO. you think it’s hella embarrassing because you were literally fifteen but he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.

— when you cook, matt always takes some food back home and his brothers end up eating it. he gets so pissed because he strictly tells them not to touch that and since they know you cooked it, they steal it LMAO.

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