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delishtequila · 7 months ago

Text

damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes

george weasley x fem!reader (hints on short!bookworm!fem!reader)

words| +- 4400

in short| classic story. George falls in love with his best friend. nothing more and nothing less

warnings| my english, angst, fluffy ending, mention of sex and long ranting about George's feelings

author’s note| it's supposed to be a short one. About 1000 words or so, but I got excited. and well, I tried to make it George's pov. because, you know, ✨️his pov✨️. also, it's my first scribbling in two years. enjoy))

He has been with other girls. He'd even said he has been with a lot of other girls.

There were a couple of girls he dated for a while. There were those he just fucked with. A quickie after a Quidditch match won't hurt anyone. It doesn't matter whether he won this match or not. He's well aware of the fact, that girls like him. But none of these so-called relationships were serious. Perhaps this was because he didn't consider any of them as something serious.

He tried this relationship thing because he was curious, what it's like to date a girl. But during his dates, bringing a cup, all painted with tiny violets, to his lips and listening to the chatter of his now ex-girlfriend, he thought that she'd never say such a thing and she'd never order such a lusciously sweet cupcake. And she wouldn't have dragged him to Madam Puddifoot's in the first place.

After smashing Hufflepuff to smithereens on the Quidditch field, he pressed some Ravenclaw's back to one of the walls in the locker room, pounding deep into her, hearing this girl's moans become louder with each thrust. He caught himself thinking about what her moans would sound like. Would she be filthy and loud underneath him or her moans would be more shaky and soft?

He wouldn't say any of these girls were bad, unattractive, or something like that. Just the opposite, all of them were great. But they simply weren't…her. She got deep under his skin, intertwined with his veins, and blossomed in his lungs. She was his Flower. That's how he called her.

George remembers clearly well how it started. No, not his feelings, they started so naturally, that he didn't even notice how he fell for her. George remembers clearly well how he started calling her flower. This happened back in the second year, during History of Magic. He was getting more and more bored by the second in that stuffy classroom. And there was nothing unusual about it. He got bored very easily. So he quietly began scribbling in the corner of her parchment. He remembers the angry look little Y/N gave him as she carefully pushed her piece of paper away from the redhead. She was also bored but did her best to focus on Professor Binns' words. But George continued, all smiling and trying to stifle his giggles caused by her irritation. At some point, his incomprehensible doodles began to look like something that resembled Professor Binns, but his glasses and mustache were abnormally large compared to everything else. She smiled, took George's hand, and carefully drew a tiny flower on his wrist, before returning her attention to Professor. It took him a while to find out what exactly she drew with so neat lines. It looked like an iris or daffodil, he couldn't tell exactly and she didn't know either. But after that she became flower. His flower.

And now George is sitting in the library. He came here to at least start an essay on Potions. Snape become ruthless lately, so it was easier to work in a group on this 5-page assignment about Golpalott's Third Law. That's how he, Y/N, Fred, and Lee ended up in the library. George knew that this was one of her favorite places at Hogwarts. Two and a half hours earlier, when they had passed Madam Pince's stern gaze, he almost unconsciously walked to her favorite table, between the Poetry and Reference sections.

George's re-reading the same sentence in the book for the seventh time. There's something about the idea that a whole product is greater than the sum of its parts, but he can't really understand its meaning because he's thinking about her. It would be more accurate to say that he's thinking about what Lee and Fred had said about her. The evening before, his twin, the only person in this world who was closer to George than Y/N, again claimed that his love was mutual. Fred constantly tried to push him to confess his feelings. His argumentation was always the same. Fred said that he’s older, which means wiser, and he sees everything, how she steals glances at his little shy brother in classes and how she blushes just as much when George is near. But that evening, Lee has added some new information, which George still tries to process and connects with everything else these two have been telling him through the years.

George returns to yesterday in his thoughts. He was lying on his bed again, hopelessly pressing his face into the soft fabric of the pillow, while these two opened the Pandora's box again. Sometimes it seemed to George that they were enjoying this ranting about his 'unrequited' love situation over and over again.

"Ok, look, if she felt nothing but platonic stuff, she'd not be this frustrated when she found out about you and Jane" Lee spoke in a devious voice, getting more comfortable on his bed.

"Wasn't it Jade?" Fred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Doesn't matter, I mean this Hufflepuff blondie with the ribbon"

"She's Janis" George sighed. He remembered this relationship, which lasted just over a month or so. Janis was nice, but she talked a bit too much. And this black ribbon, which she constantly wore as a headband, pissed him off. He admitted that the ribbon matched well with her uniform and emphasized the brightness of her hair. But something was wrong with it.

"I thought she was Jade"

"Anyway, why are you telling me about this now?" curiosity and a slight note of annoyance were noticeable in George's voice "It was quite a long ago."

"Look, mate. I'm your friend, right?" Lee sat down, crossed his legs, and the blanket crumpled under his weight. One more movement and the red piece of cloth would end up on the floor. "But I'm her friend as well. She knows that I know. And knows that I overheard that conversation of hers. And I promised, I won't blab it to you…But as it turns out, I'm not the best secret keeper and I'm more of a friend to you than to Y/N"

To tell the truth, Lee was a great secret keeper. Just like he was a great friend. This made George seriously wonder why Lee broke the promise. And so unceremoniously 'blabbed' everything to him. What if he's really as blind as he was told and doesn't see obvious things. He doesn't deny the possibility that she liked him too. More precisely, he doesn't want to deny it. He hopes that Y/N also feels something that crosses the boundaries of friendship. Even if her feelings aren't as strong and all-consuming as his. As if time collapses into one tiny speck and explodes at light speed every time George sees her. He hopes for at least something, for at least a tiny feeling, a tiny sparkle in her heart that flares up at the sight of the tall redhead.

Many times he imagined and replayed in his head the moment he would confess his feelings. Tell her how all the sounds around become quiet when he hears her laugh, how each and every touch imprints and burns on his skin. He dreamed, how he would tell how much he loved her, that he could finally be honest and reveal everything that was in his head and heart.

But the younger twin thinks the stakes are too high. And maybe he's right because she thinks the same thing to herself. Even though George wants more, he doesn't want to risk everything he has right now. His eyes begin to water and a lump rises in his throat every time he assumes he could lose Y/N. His flower. He knows her too well to predict what would happen next if his feelings weren't mutual. Their communication will become awkward, they both will be cautious and afraid of saying or doing something wrong. And then, after some time of this weird communication, their connection will fade away. And even if his love is mutual, what if he and Y/N don’t work out as a couple? What then?

He can't let their previous and future years of friendship go down the drain. Y/N was the first person he and Fred met on the Hogwarts Express. And from the very first year and the very first greeting, the three of them became inseparable. Always together.

She wanted to be a prefect, so she avoided detentions and tried not to get involved in their pranks directly. But Y/N was always there, helped to plan each of their mischiefs, assisted with new inventions, and saved him and his brother from professors. George can't remember how many times she rescued them from Filch while she was patrolling the corridors. He was so proud of her last year when she finally received this little silver pin that gave her extra authority and responsibilities.

George can't imagine Christmas without Y/N now. She visits the Burrow every year and his mom adores her. Perhaps because Y/N helps with cooking more than anyone else in this house. But George can imagine in detail how hard his mother would scold him if he suddenly announce that Y/N won't come for winter break this year because he's an idiot and they stopped talking to each other.

It's not Christmas without having a snowball fight with her and Fred in the backyard. At some point, she always tries to throw Fred into the snow. But due to the obvious height difference and Fred's strength privilege, she never succeeds in this. So she's becoming the one who's giggling on the ground, covered with snow. George always laughs at this little performance while his very kind twin scatters her down with even more snow.

George's envious of his brother in some way. Fred has never seen Y/N as more than a friend or a second sister. He's envious that his twin's heart doesn't ache as much as his does. And his older brother doesn't have to make such a difficult decision. No, George doesn't wish his brother pain. No way. He just doesn't want to suffer himself. George understands, that he's not just at risk of losing her, but also at risk of depriving Fred of his best friend too. If he and Y/N don't work out, what will happen to her friendship with Fred? Yes, perhaps they will be able to maintain some thread of communication. But they certainly won’t be best friends like they are now. George wouldn't handle it. He believes that it's better to be content with the small moments he has than to lose everything.

"Where are you going?" Fred's question snaps the younger twin out of his thoughts. He's still in the library and didn’t even notice how the chair next to him became empty, as Y/N headed towards one of the sections.

“I need this book, about…” her words meet Fred's raised eyebrows "I just need another book"

A quiet “uh-huh,” sounds either from Fred or Lee as her back is already hidden between the shelves full of colorful covers.

George looks for a while longer after Y/N. If someone raised their head from studies or books and glanced at the redhead, they would see the gears turning in his head.

“I…” George moves away from the table. Legs of the chair slide across the floor with a quiet rustle. He tries to come up with some kind of a reason, but Lee is faster.

“We got it, loverboy in shining armor, go already and help your princess” In response George groanes, and a quiet "fuck off" slips from his lips as he heads after his 'princess'. He doesn't know why he decided to follow Y/N. He just wants to. Perhaps he simply feels calmer when she's around, she gives him a feeling of warmth and home just by being near.

And there she is, just three bookshelves away. George can understand why she likes spending time in the library, although he doesn't share this sympathy. It's quiet and peaceful here. High ceilings, impressive columns, and alive stained glass windows are throughout Hogwarts, but they look especially charming in this place. Perhaps it's the specific lighting or the huge number of cabinets filled with old parchment and colored bindings. And, to be honest, he likes the smell of books. There is something about that scent that the redhead can't explain.

Y/N walks along the shelf at the end of the bookrack. Her gaze runs along the top row of colored spines, searching for what she needs. Her hair is up in a messy, almost domestic, bun and secured with a wand. But some strands fell down, framing her face and descending down her neck. The tie hangs loosely around her neck. She undid it after half an hour in the library.

George just stands there and admires her for a while, unable to tear his gaze away. It seems to him as if a soft golden glow surrounds each curve of her glorious body. And this light calls him to come closer. None of the other girls looked like her in his eyes. He swallows, breaks out of this perfect trance, and quietly heads to her.

The girl stands on the very tips of her black shiny shoes. Her fingers almost touch that very book on the top shelf. "Why the hell do they always shove the most useful stuff so far away?" Y/N thinks to herself before long fingers touch the cover of the "Ingredient Encyclopedia". She sees as right above her head a familiar freckled hand takes the faded green binding from its place.

"You're welcome, flower" Y/N turns around at the sound of the voice and finds herself trapped between the worn books and George.

The corners of his lips lift slightly and the younger twin can feel the warmth approaching his cheeks. He can't control it and, to be honest, he doesn't care when she's only millimeters away.

Her "Thank you" is so quiet that George isn't sure she actually said it. Their eyes meet, and it seems to redhead that everything that happened next was in slow motion.

She just wanted to take the book. Such an innocent action. She inhales sharply as her fingertips accidentally brush his hand. He feels high-voltage sparks come from this touch and spread further throughout his whole body and explode where his heart is.

They both froze, not breathing and not breaking an eye contact. George could swear he was ready to give everything he had to live in this moment forever. Just standing next to her in an empty section of the Hogwarts library. Looking into her eyes, losing himself in their depths. And feel the warmth radiating from her hand on his.

Earlier, he thought he'd be nervous at a moment like this but he isn't. He just stares at her eyes, then at her parted lips. "George, don’t do it" he repeats to himself. His fingers shudder imperceptibly with the thought of taking her wand from messy hair, so her locks would fall freely on her fragile shoulders. "Control yourself". He's trying, so damn hard trying not to bury his hands into these shiny strands and pull her into a kiss. It takes all his strength not to. And George doesn't know what happened. Was it Y/N's rosy blush and his brother's words about mutuality flashing through his head. Was it her, standing so close that he could smell his amortentia coming from the girl.

But he gives up. George bends down, without even thinking about it, and presses his lips to hers

George pulls away even faster than he has leaned toward her. There is exposed fear in his widely opened eyes. Eyebrows are raised as the realization crushes his thoughts. His mouth opens and closes without making any sound. It seems that he's more shocked by his own action than Y/N herself.

He fucked up. He knows it.

Y\N stands there still. And this is the first time in the redhead's life that he can't read the emotions of his best friend. "Ingredient Encyclopedia" is still in her palm, but George abruptly pulls his hand away, losing all the warmth she provided to him.

"I'm…I'm sorry" is the only thing he mumbles before storming away from the book section, from the library, from her.

George almost knocks down a first-year with a blue tie when he rushes out around the corner. He fucked up. Y/N didn’t respond to his kiss, she didn’t react at all. She just froze in place. George doesn't understand how he could let himself do this. He shouldn't have. He heads towards the huge wooden door with such speed that some students' parchments fly off their desks. He doesn't notice this, nor the questions from Fred and Lee, that meet his broad back, nor the comments of the furious Madam Pince.

She appears around the corner shortly after George, calling his name. She throws the book on the table and quickly walks past her friends. The faded green binding slides across the wooden surface and lands near Lee's inkpot. Another millimeter and the small glass jar would have been knocked down and poured a black liquid onto the pieces of parchment, only half written with essay.

"For Merlin's sake, what is going on?"

“I'll bet you a galleon that George confessed to her and ran away” Fred speaks with a sly grin, shifting his gaze from the hurrying Y/N to his dormmate.

"Too much drama for these two, don't you think?"

"So…?"

"You're on" Lee agrees, moving the book away from his writings. He only managed to write the introduction and the beginning of the first few theses. It was far from 5 pages but it was at least something and definitely more than George wrote.

George walks through the library entrance. He feels like everything is crumbling inside him as he walks. The sound of his heart pounding in the ears muffles the voice calling his name somewhere behind the back.

"George!…"

He is supposed to be happy. He finally did what he had dreamed of for many years. He finally kissed the girl he was so hopelessly in love with. But instead, he feels as if a dozen Dementors attacked him. All of the hope and happiness have been sucked out of the world.

"George!…"

He'd better get away from here as fast as possible. He'd explain himself later. He'd better get to his safe space. But where should he go if he felt safe only next to her?

"George!….for Merlin's sake!….. I can't keep up with you!"

He recalls everything in his head, from what happened a minute ago to the first time he saw Y\N. He understands that all those happy moments, the tenderness, the memories they both made and the plans for the future, are all gone. He's so disappointed and so angry with himself.

"George!…"

"What?!" He stops and turns around, seeing the girl almost running along the empty corridor of Hogwarts, approaching him.

George heard her calling him. But he's not ready to face the consequences. Not now. He needs time to pull himself back together and come up with something. But he gives up. Again.

"What do you wanna hear, Y|N?!" His hands shoot up in a questioning gesture. "That I'm head over heels in love with you? With your damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes! With your damn angelic laughter, which drowns out all other sounds for me! And I even with the way your brows frown when you're concentrated!"

"Georgie…" He doesn't seem to notice her soft voice but continues. She wants to say something, but his confession is unstoppable. And she understands this, so she decides to just let him rant.

"Or do you wanna hear that you became a fixed point in my mind where my thoughts always come back to? That I randomly grin to myself like an idiot when I think about anything related to you. I don't know when exactly I fell for you. But it feels like I've always loved you. You're doing something to me, no one else ever could. You make me feel special and not just another poor Weasley or the second clown of Hogwarts. Every damn time you make me feel important because of who I am and not because I'm the beater or I'm the easiest way to get to Fred." His voice became calmer with each sentence. The irritated raised tone turns into his normal deep timbre, and then it will turn into a soft mumbling. " And you make all of my anxiety and worries turn off just by your presence. I was so fucking angry with myself and you did something I dunno how to explain. So now I can't be this angry. And you are…you are just….you"

She stands next to him. Almost as close as it was back then in the library. Perhaps if George wasn't so nervous, he'd realize that he liked the scent of books because it was her scent. Every time she left the library after spending several hours there, she had this slightest scent on her. It mixed with her perfume and shampoo, so it was impossible to separate and difficult to notice it.

"Are you done?" George doesn't know what to do and just nods his ginger head. Then she rises on her tiptoes and neat fingers finds the collar of his white shirt and pulls it towards her, forcing George to lean forward. Her lips touch his. Again. Only for a few seconds but this makes him blush even more, if it's possible. His freckles aren't this noticeable anymore.

The girl pulls away, the heels of her shoes meet the cold floor and her hands slide onto George's chest. But he continues to stand slightly bent forward, batting his eyelashes. She still has to lift her head slightly to look him in the eyes. In the future, this height difference will piss her off sometimes, but he'll enjoy it endlessly, liking this even more every time.

George stares deeply into her eyes, trying to understand what just happened. But he feels that he can breathe again. And somewhere inside, where his soul is, irises and daffodils and all the other flowers start to blossom slowly. Did she really kiss him? But earlier…

"But you've…." His eyebrows furrow as the puzzles are slowly coming together in his head.

"I was taken by surprise" She explains as she watches his face soften, lips rise into a wide grin that he can't stop. And why the hell should he stop it. "And you didn't give me time to understand what's going on"

George covers her hand with his own. That hand that's laying so peacefully on his rapidly beating heart.

“Sorry,” he chuckles, millimeters from her face. She can feel his breath on her lips, like a ghost kiss, dragging the moment before he crushes his lips down on hers into another real one.

Her lips are soft, almost silken, and pillowy against his own. This kiss is not just a peck, like the previous ones. This time George can understand that her lips are not exactly what he thought. Her lips feel thousands of times better than he could ever imagine. He finally feels relieve and all the world's happiness. All the happiness he supposed to feel. Happiness, that had been accumulating for a long time and didn't leave the palace of his dreams, Finally to escape to freedom. His palms find their place around her waist as he pulls her closer, forcing their bodies to collapse into each other, holding each other as tightly as humanly possible. Her hands shoot up to his hair, slowly letting her fingers slip into ginger strands. He kisses Y/N like he has never kissed anyone else before. With all the tenderness and love he has kept locked in his heart till this moment. George doesn’t see this, but he feels how the gray world around him is filled with colors again. The warmth spreads all over his body and his brain stops working properly.

This girl, this bright and breathtaking girl, is his. Their lips moved softly, delicately, and almost innocently before. But Y/N is driving him insane and intoxicate him with the sweet smell of her body. He can feel her hand slide to his nape and she lightly runs fingers up along his neck. Tiny soft moans escape his lips in the surprise of the goosebumps this action sent down his body. As a response, George brings up his freckled hands to cup her face. His calloused fingers caress her flushed cheeks as he nibbles her lower lip, not so hard to hurt, but enough for Y/N to feel it. Now it's her turn to let out a small, barely audible moan, which makes him break out into a shit-eating grin.

The girl gently pulls away, while George still holds her face in his warm hands.

"I love you too, Georgie. And your damn perfect hair and damn marvelous eyes"

Bonus:

He lets out a giggle caused by quoting. He's unable to open his eyes for a few moments after this kiss, a huge smile on his face

"But…"

"But…?" The question sounds teasing even though his voice is hoarse.

"We have an essay to finish. It's due tomorrow, and you haven't even written a sentence yet." she wrinkles her nose in a taunting way.

"Nooooo" Redhead lets out a groan, throwing his head back. "Don't make me do this, Flower"

"I won't write it for you" She kisses his pouty lips as a response to the puppy gaze he gave her. Y/N frees herself from his cozy grip and heads towards the library. "You'd better write at least something unless you prefer scrubbing cauldron instead of…let's say…sneaking into Hogsmeade."

George catches up with her a couple of seconds later. He slightly leans down just for a moment to catch her hand in his and intertwine their fingers.

"Y/N…." he tries this 'puppy gaze trick' again.

"Fine." She sighs in defeat "I will help you with a plan and theses, but you will write it yourself."

George breaks into a smile once again and brings her hand to his lips, leaving kisses on her knuckles. Well, the thesis for Someone's Third Law is at least something. Plus, he’s sure that he’s sure Y/N will write his essay as soon as she finishes hers. And, to be honest, Fred's too.

After some time, when they are a meter from the huge wooden door, George suddenly wonders.

"Galleons or Sickles?"

"What?"

"Galleons or Sickles?" He repeats, opening the door in front of Y/N

"Wait, you're wondering how much they bet on us, aren't you?"

George overtakes the girl, ending up in front of her, and leans down so that their eyes are at the same level. He shoves his hands into pockets and wrinkles his nose therefore mocking Y/N's previous actions.

"I'll bet a Galleon that Lee owes Fred a Galleon"

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delishtequila · 2 years ago

Text

i died

Classmate

PART TWO

PART ONE

Earth 42!Miles Morales x fem!reader

Synopsis! For the life of you , you couldn’t understand why Miles had it out to get you so bad. If it wasn’t for the mid-year seat change, he wouldn’t have even acknowledged your existence.

Genre: light fluff, enemies to lovers like troupe, light bully!Miles

Warnings: mentions of violence, slight foul language but that’s it enjoy!

Word count: 3k

Authors comment: I hope u guys like it, kinda rushed toward the end. Again sorry for any bad Spanish! Feel free to leave a like <3

Unknown: Come outside.

Sat up lousily on your dorm mattress, you couldn’t stop staring at the text that lit up your phone screen five minutes ago. The TV playing reruns from late night shows on adult swim, specifically “Mike Tyson’s Mysteries”, was only on for background noise at this point.

I mean who text a random number, no introduction, no name, not even a hey. Just “come outside”, let alone at two o'clock in the morning.

You were apprehensive to say the least, but it piqued your curiosity as to who got your number and decided to pay a visit to your school this late at night, or rather early in the morning.

More than likely this was a wrong number situation, at least that was the justification you made in your head. That this wasn't some crazy stalker waiting for you outside.

You set your phone down, ignoring the message.

Your brain, being the adversary it was, ran right back to thoughts of Miles. He had been stuck in your head from the moment he was sent to the principal for fighting John earlier that day. The image of him panting heavily as he pounded John's face into the varnished tile floor of the school refused to leave your head, burrowing itself deep into your thoughts. The way his breathing calmed and his pupils lost their sharp glare when he made eye contact with you. It didn’t help that your stomach flipped uncontrollably at the thought of Miles beating John into practically a puddle for you.

The actual reason Miles fought John was still unknown to you.

It could’ve had nothing to do with you. It could’ve been something completely irrelevant from you, something John had said or done to Miles that didn’t involve you or what you had told him only an hour prior to the incident.

But you knew it was because of you.

And hell, you wanted it to be.

Ring! Ring! Ring!

The unknown number flashed across the screen of your phone, pulling you from the inner workings of your mind. You hesitated, squinting your eyes.

Clearly this person had intentionally gotten your number, making you wonder if this was some needy weirdo trying to link up.

Taking a second to contemplate how this could possibly affect your future, you answered.

screw it.

The other side of the line was silent. “...hello?” “Can you hurry up?”.

Three beeps were heard, indicating the call was disconnected. What was said sounded more like a demand than a question. From the abrasive inflection, as well as the call being hung up without giving you a chance to reply, you could easily depict it was Miles.

Speak of the devil.

Getting up from the bottom bunk, careful to not make too much noise and wake up Mei, you went and looked out the window. Miles was outside staring mindlessly at his surroundings, hands crossed over his chest as he leaned on a speed limit pole seperating the sidewalk from the road.

You gazed at him for a second, taking in his appearance. It was the first time you had seen him outside of his uniform, or at least the first time you were aware of.

Sighing a breath of relief and annoyance, you decided to go outside. Slipping on your fluffy pale army green monster slippers and a black hoodie entirely too big for you over your pajama shirt and shorts combo, you opened the window. The breeze from outside crashed in like a wave engulfing you, forcing a chill up your spine.

You were lucky you got the dorm with the fire escape attached, otherwise you would've had to go into the halls and evade the guards who were entirely too serious about their job.

…

Hopping off the last rusted stair, your feet met Brooklyns cement. The New York streets were quieter than their usual deafening commotion tonight. It was almost serene, all the iridescent lights of the buildings and streets flowing in unity, the fires that burned atop of the roofs creating beautiful inconsistency to the mesh of dimly lit fixtures.

Miles gazed at you as you walked over, amusement spreading over his eyes. Your appearance was unkempt, contrasting your usual put together character. You didn’t have on the makeup he regularly saw you in, but in all honesty you looked the same to him.

Frankly, it wholeheartedly annoyed Miles you were so beautiful to him, if not prettier now that he’s caught sight of your bare face. It was weird for him to see you outside of your ironed school attire. But what was odder, your sleepy appearance felt strangely domestic to him, almost causing a sense of familiarity and warmth to spread over him.

It was definitely something he wouldn’t mind getting used to.

“How did you get my number?” you asked skeptically, breaking him from his daze. He looked at you dismissively,“don’t worry ‘bout it.”. You rolled your eyes, annoyed by his disregarding answer. He fell silent for a moment staring at you.

Miles wasn’t going to tell you how he got your number. He spent hours tediously asking around for it, at some point giving up and using his prowler technology that’s original purpose was to find the quickest communication to villians and searched you up. Extremely drastic? Yes. Was he here now with your number? Also yes.

“Is there a reason I’m out here?” You yawned out bluntly, crossing your arms. The hours of sleep you’d been putting off kicked in, hitting you like a bus. Miles cocked his head at you, “Watch your tone ma, Ion’ care how tired you are.” There it was again, that stupid nickname that made your stomach do cartwheels.

You rolled your eyes, pursing your face to hide the smile that wanted to creep to your lips. You untucked an arm out at him lazily, implying for him to speak.

Miles licked his lips and took a deep breath, biting his lower lip as the exhale left his nose. He wouldn’t consider himself nervous to ask you to dinner, but the thought of you meeting his mom, especially per her request, unconsciously made his shoulders tense.

You waited expectantly for Miles to speak, blinking a few times. He sighed again, “Mi mama wants you over for dinner on Friday, I’ll send you the address.”. Before you could even process what he said to you, he started walking away. “W-what? Wait why?” You gaped incredulously at his fleeting figure. He kept walking, ignoring your confused protest.

You never thought you would see the day where you dreaded a Friday. But here you were, contemplating jumping off Visions Academy’s roof as you stared at Miles' text, “Be here at 5:45” with his address.

The week had passed quicker than you would’ve imagined. It felt like time sped up just because it knew how distressed you were. You had been on edge since Monday night when Miles decided to pay you a visit, and it was obvious to everyone around you. It didn’t help when you told Mei about Miles little drop by and she freaked out more than you did, making you more anxious than before. By the way she was acting, you would’ve thought she was the one who actually had to go to the dinner, not you.

What was worse, Miles kept leaving you on read, only responding twice throughout the week to your frantic messages.

The first being “stop spamming I’m busy.” and the second days later, “I muted you.”.

All day your leg couldn’t stop bouncing.

You weren’t not going to show up to the dinner. Even though Miles was being more impudent than usual, if his Mother really wanted to meet you then you were going to make a good first impression. Missing a dinner she invited you to was not the way to do that, so you suffered through the anxiety that gnawed at your body.

Had anyone else's mother invited over for dinner, it wouldn’t have affected your mental health. But this wasn’t just anyone’s mom we’re talking about here, it was Miles' mom. And as much as you would like to pretend you didn’t, you liked Miles, which meant making his mom like you was on the top of your list.

You had taken your time picking out an outfit, making sure it wasn’t anything too revealing but still had style. Your makeup and hair looked the best it ever had, you weren’t playing around today.

The time was nearing 5:15, and you were at the florist boutique, picking out a nice bouquet that your wallet agreed with. You and the owner were working very hard to find a fitting bouquet.

“So what about these begonias and tulips? They are always a nice gift and are on the cheaper side”. They were nice flowers, but weren’t what you wanted, so you kept browsing. You stopped, seeing the perfect bouquet which happened to be on sale.

As the clock struck 5:45 you rung the doorbell to what you assumed was the Morales living quarters. With nerves at an all time high, you almost dropped the bouquet.

Miles opened the door aloof seeing you fumble around with the flowers in your hand. Gathering yourself you said a quick greeting. You took note of his outfit, his lanky figure sporting a plain black long sleeve and a pair of gray sweats. Even in something so simple he managed to look good, it kinda ticked you off.

“Take your shoes off by the door.” He moved to the side so you could walk in. You handed him the bouquet and did as he instructed, taking the flowers back once your shoes were placed neatly inside.

“You must be Y/n!” Who you assumed to be Miles' mother greeted you as you walked further into the home.

You went into the kitchen to greet her properly, seeing her cooking. Whatever it was, it smelt amazing. Miles walked in after you standing next to her, you could see the resemblance. It was clear good looks ran in the genes.

Rio grinned as she got a better view of your face “Oh you're a pretty girl!”. You didn’t miss the small elbow she gave Miles. “I can say the same for you, oh-these are for you Mrs.Morales”. You shuffled to her awkwardly and handed her the flowers. She smiled at the compliment and thanked you mentally taking note that you called her by last name, taking the bouquet examining it. The evenly distributed Gardenias and forever susan asiatic lilies were vibrant and fresh, tied with a nice silk white ribbon. “Oh cariño, these are gorgeous! muchas gracias” she said, frowning out of appreciation. The last time she had gotten flowers was when Jeff died, making these flowers that she truly wasn’t expecting so meaningful.

She set them down carefully on the kitchen counter, making sure to not smash any of them. “So, I hear your miles’s classmate, eh? Is he kind to you?” Would you consider Miles even remotely nice? Short answer, no. But the thought of him almost murdering John for you flashed across your mind. “He has his moments.” You smiled out. She looked at miles, “Well he better be” Rio scolded, pinching Miles cheek. Miles grumbled, swatting her hand away abashedly.

…

Rio and you conversed for a solid fifteen minutes, miles mostly staying silent unless spoken to. When he did speak, it was mostly mumbles of a short response. Your nerves had eased, and it was clear you had accomplished your goal of making Rio like you. “Well why don’t you two go hang out and I’ll call you guys out when the food is ready.” Rio said smiling, giving Miles a look you couldn’t discern. Miles signaled for you to follow him as he walked to his room.

He shut the door, walking over to his bed and sitting down. His room wasn’t much different than you imagined it to be. Everything was very fitting, especially the small punching bag strung upon his wall next to his bed.

Standing awkwardly, you rocked back and forth on your heels. “Sooo…” you mumbled uncomfortably, fiddling with your fingers peering around his room mindlessly. Miles paid no attention to you, instead more focused on where he had misplaced his phone. He had forgotten it when he opened the door for you earlier, now searching for it on his bed. But like the bed does best, it sucks things up with no hope of returning it. “Call my phone f’me” he said, now standing facing his bed with his back to you, throwing his blanket around with purpose. “Please?” You remarked chidingly. He stopped moving and looked over his shoulder with his eyebrows furrowed. “Please.”, his tone indicating he wasn’t actually asking. “See now was that so hard” a forced smile spread on your lips as you opened your phone and clicked his contact, hitting the small phone button under his name. His cover in the middle of the bed vibrated, he lifted his blanket revealing his phone. It flashed with a pastel pink color, the caller ID reading “her.”.

He swiftly picked up his device and declined the call, glancing at you with what you could’ve sworn was embarrassment. Quickly sitting back down, he engrossed himself in his phone trying to ignore the way your eyebrows raised and the entertained look whirling through your eyes.

“Mind explaining my saved contact?” You questioned, tucking your phone back in your pocket. He continued to look at his phone, trying hard to ignore your daunting stare searing deep into his avoidant eyes, “I’m good.”. Sighing you leaned against the front of his desk, moving the chair under it to the side.

“So,” you said, breaking the small silence, crossing your legs straight in front of you. He side eyed you, now lying comfortably on his bed with one hand behind his head. “Why’uh- Why did your mom want to meet me? How does she even know who I was?” You shrugged out, awaiting an answer. His head turned to you, his eyebrows unconsciously scrunching together at your question. Kissing his teeth, he looked back at his phone with a scowl.

“You just gon’ keep ignoring me?” He side eyed up before going back to scrolling on his phone, indicating that was exactly his plan.

You scoffed, tired of his disdainful behavior. “You know you’re a real asshole”, you seethed, uncrossing your legs .

Processing what you said, he cocked his head at you, full attention on you and you only. He turned his upper body to you, putting his upper body weight on his bent elbow. “Que me acabas de llamar?”.

Oh so now he wanted to respond. You cocked your head back at him mockingly, going against your gut feeling to just let it go. You knew your response was going to make this situation most likely not end well for you, but your ego was too big to care about the repercussions. “obviously you heard me.”

In a blink of an eye he was in front of you, towering over your figure. His fast reflexes had slipped your mind, one of the many consequences you decided to ignore. The look on his face made your stomach churn, with excitement or fear you couldn’t tell.

“Oh you hard now? Since you so big and bad how bout you say that again f‘’me”. His voice was breathier than he intended, but it still held the menacing tone he was trying to intimidate you with.

Your breathing lost its consistency, becoming more rugged the longer he stood over you. He put his hands on the desk on either side of you, making the already little gap between you two smaller. Your mouth fell agape wanting to say something snarky, but no words left your throat. “Thought you had something to say mami, qué ha pasado?”

He leaned his face closer tauntingly looking deep into your eyes, placing one of his hands on the small of your waist to make sure he had your attention. You could damn near feel the smirk playing at his lips from how close his face was to yours. The sharp exhales that left his nose intertwined with the shudders that left your mouth, the air departing your bodies amalgamating flawlessly as you stared intensely at each other.

You put your hands against his chest to stop him from coming closer, even though you knew he could if really wanted to. His heartbeat was oddly calm, nearly slowing the pace of yours.

The feeling was almost inexplicably familiar, reminding you entirely too much of the prowler incident. The fierce gaze he held at you was making it hard for you to stand, you were lucky your weight was supported by the desk. The tension was suffocating to say the least, consuming both of you where you stood. You could feel his grip on your waist become stronger, practically crossing into the border of needy. He leaned forward slightly causing your noses to touch, both of your eyes closing as your chest rose up and down.

“Foods ready you two!”

Rios yell broke the two of you from your trance, forcing both of you to a realization of where you were. Miles didn’t move, letting out a small sigh you wouldn’t have heard had he not so close. He pulled away slightly, tilting his head so his mouth was closer to your ear, “Thought so.”

He pushed off the desk, looking at your figure one last time before opening the door and heading to the kitchen.

Swallowing the lump in your throat that you didn’t know you had, you took a moment to register what just happened. You closed your eyes and opened them, looking around the room to make sure it was real.

Que diablo acaba de pasar?

Bonus: Rio cleaned the dishes in the sink, handing them to Miles so he could dry them. “Miles,” Rio stopped scrubbing for a moment to look at her son. “Yes mama?” Miles peered over his shoulder from the cupboard, placing the plate inside.

“Cásate con ella”

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