The decision to mess with him, in hindsight, may have been stupid.
But you just couldn’t help it.
So you hit record, and your friend, Anita, started bombarding you with texts, in on the bit.
It was so fun just to toy with him every now and then, get him riled up. A little angry, it was all in good fun. So it didn’t really matter in the long run, he always forgave you.
And the way he would eye you from across the room, as you giggled and smiled at your phone—.
Was pretty much worth it.
He was unable to do anything about it though, with everyone else around. Of course, you’d decided to mess with him in front of his family. When you couldn’t be called out.
His Mom and Uncle were barely two feet away from him, talking amongst themselves and occasionally addressing someone else at the inconveniently timed family gathering.
He watched you snort again as you glanced at the message, quickly smirking at the mystery-person’s notif.
No one is so eager to text with a friend. No one giggles and smiles when talking through text.
You don’t giggle at texts.
Miles leans back from his seat on the couch opposite to you, coffee table between the two of you. He drapes a hand over his knee and watches as your eyes trail him up.
He tips his head back and sighs, glaring at you from under his eyelashes. Your posture straightens and you eye his Adams apple before your screen flashes again, and your attention is gone.
This goes on for around another eight minutes before he loses his mind. He groans, checking the faces around you both to see no one in his belated family paying either of you attention.
Slowly, he gets up. Stretching to his full height and glowering down at you. You glance up at him innocently, another small smirk settled on your lips and he huffs a quick breath.
Miles rolls the joints in his neck and you can’t help but observe the way his tense posture makes him look ever-more menacing. A jolt of attraction shocking your spine.
The way his smirk curved his soft lips up,how his sunken eyes glowed threateningly on an up-cast light.
“C’mon, Mami.”
“Hmm?”
“Get up.”
He side stepped the table, being close to you now, his height towering over you from your sat position.
You sheltered the phone screen, making sure he couldn’t see you record.
“I’m busy—,”
“Now, Chiquita.”
“You can’t make me.”
The way you pouted up at him drove him mad, your eyebrows furrowing in defiance and your tone lifting.
"Bueno, entonces hagamos la cuenta regresiva."
You rolled your eyes, “Oh my god Miles! I’m not a kid.” You placed your phone face down beside you on the couch. He hummed.
Lowly, under his breath he spoke, “Three.”
“Fuck—, whatever fine. I’m up.” You roll your eyes, and push yourself up, grabbing your phone as you went.
“Talk t’me like a damn child.”
“‘S cause ya’ actin’ like a damn child.”
“Am not.”
He paused, dropping his face deadpan, and you snorted at the irony.
“See?”
“Whatever, loser. You’re just jealous i’m more fun.”
“Not what I’m jealous about.”
He slipped his palm over yours, linking your fingers with his. A few of his family members glanced your way, and you shifted in embarrassment before they looked away, paying you no mind.
Miles dragged you along with him, politely excusing himself, and you, from people who approached and made his way to his room. You following begrudgingly behind him.
He opened the door with a grip too tight, swung it open and clambered you both inside, before letting go of your hand and slowly shutting the door behind you both. Placing the key in the lock, twisting but not taking it out.
Never the type of man to trap you, or intimidate — you kind of felt bad for messing with him.
His back still to you, you let your knees hit the bed before sitting on the ledge, hands folded neatly in your lap and phone under them, shielding the screen.
Miles cracked his neck, muscles going taught before relaxing again as he turned. Eyes catching your own with a certain glee in them that felt more challenging than happy.
“Wanna ‘xplain yourself, mami?”
You huffed, only watching and pouting as he approached. Crossing your arms over your chest, and griping your forearms.
Unknowingly leaving your phone vulnerable to the man now much closer to you, just like before. Except now there wasn’t anyone stopping him from fucking with you.
“Not gon’ say nothin’, chiquita?”
Your phone buzzed.
You bit your lip and evaded smiling, smugness coming from the small win.
“Mm.” The low rumble of his voice made your eye flick back to his face, curiosity lacing your features for a spilt moment before you schooled them.
While unfocused on anything but his face, he took the opportunity to swipe your phone right from your lap, reflexes much quicker than yours.
“Hh—, Wait—!“ Your hand outstretched to try and catch the phone from his grip, but he was quicker. Holding the phone up high and placing his other hand over your shoulder so you couldn’t stand to grab it.
“Who the fuck—,” He flipped the screen toward himself, and when all he saw was your camera app open, recording for 13 minutes, and a notification from Anita, his smirk raised. One only of disbelief.
“You kiddin’?”
The camera was fixed on your sat body, and he stopped the recording, clicking Anita’s name and watching the texts appear.
You still there?
Did he find out LMAO
BROOO ARE U GETTING UR ASS BEAT LMFAOAOA
i’ll beat his ass tho fr, fight for u bbg 🫶
sorry in advance pumpkin 👩❤️💋👩
tiktoks gonna luv this
“Anita.”
He let his gaze fall on you, amusement and annoyance dancing with his emotions.
“No..” You pouted, dragging your hands back to your laps and smiling sheepishly.
“Oh my fuckin’ god, [Name].”
“It’s a prank?” Even you sounded unsure.
He snorted and glared at you, pushing you back until your back hit the bed.
“You wan’ make a tiktok? We don’ make one.”
“Wha—“
You heard the record button play before you could speak, and felt your instincts kick in a second too late bfore a pillow hit your face. You spluttered—
—Before clambering up the bed to get a pillow too.
“Oh, Fuck you!”
“Nah, Mami, wrecked your chances.”
You grabbed a pillow and swung back behind you, hitting him square in the face before he snatched it off you with a playfully pissed expression. One hand still holding the phone towards you.
You smirked at him and flipped the camera off. “Eat shit, loser.”
“You’re gonna fuckin’ regret that.”
You squealed and laughed, trying to grab another pillow in time before your ankle was grabbed and dragged down the bed, your laughter following.
You did in fact, regret it.
—
+BONUS!!!
“How’s it feel to fuckin’ lose?”
Miles grinned behind the camera, braids loosened slightly due to the tussling between you two—,
“Die.”
He laughed and ended the recording.
“Y’know I love you?”
You pouted, resisting the need in your fluttering heart to smile up at him.
“Yeah, yeah— whatever, big boy.”
“Good, cause i’m posting that.”
“Morales!”