Rainy Times Square, 1957.

miles fairchild x reader

warnings: kissing / making out (pg-13), rainstorm scenes, sneaking around, mild angst, lots of fluff, teasing + flirting, chaotic behavior, in-character miles (soft for reader), found family vibes, flora being flora, ms. kate trying her best.

pt 1/5 ( i lowkey have this whole fic finished… it’s just been sitting in my notes app)

a/n:

hi uhm okay soooo this is my first post on here and i literally have no idea how tumblr works yet lol. i’m still trying to figure out tagging and formatting and all that but i wanted to post this anyway because i kept thinking about this miles fairchild scenario and it kinda… spiraled into a whole thing??

anyway pls be nice i’m new 😭 if the spacing is weird or the tags are wrong just pretend you didn’t see it. i hope you guys like it even a little bit, i had so much fun writing it and i might make more if people actually enjoy it?? idk we’ll see lol

okay that’s it i’m gonna go hide now bye 💀💗

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the house was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt heavier than it should. rain tapped softly against the windows, but inside miles’ room, the shadows and dim light made everything feel warmer than the storm outside suggested. i was sprawled across his bed in his hoodie—he’d grumbled when i borrowed it, but he didn’t protest too hard when i insisted it was more comfortable than mine.

miles was leaning against his dresser, guitar in hand, strumming lightly. his brows were drawn together, the way they always were when he was thinking or lost in some private frustration—but when he noticed me watching, there was a subtle softening in his eyes.

“you look ridiculous,” he said, voice low and teasing, “like some… cozy potato.”

i smirked, nudging him with my shoulder. “ridiculous, huh? that’s the best you can do? really setting the bar high.”

he smirked back, ignoring the jab. “i’m just stating facts. you’re like… dangerously soft. could make someone do terrible things.”

“oh yeah?” i said, grinning. “like what? murder? arson?”

miles leaned in, eyes glinting, his smirk widening. “worse. you might make me say dirty things i normally wouldn’t. verbal crimes, stuff that could make your cheeks hot without touching you.”

i laughed, tugging the hoodie tighter around me. “sounds dangerous. are you… practicing on me?”

“maybe,” he murmured, taking a step closer. “could be educational. you’ll thank me later.”

i rolled onto my side, letting my head rest against the pillow, watching him. “i highly doubt it. you’re terrible at being subtle.”

“i don’t do subtle,” he said softly, strumming a chord and letting the note linger. “but i am good at… this.” he leaned down slowly, brushing his lips against my temple. “keeping you safe, keeping you warm, keeping you… mildly terrified with words alone.”

i shivered slightly, though whether it was the hoodie, the rain, or him, i wasn’t sure. “mildly terrified, huh? sounds like a skill.”

“it is,” he said, tilting his head. “you’re my favorite subject. you… i don’t know, you’re… softer than anyone i know, but still… dangerous.”

i laughed softly, letting myself nuzzle against his shoulder. “i’m soft, huh? careful. you might get addicted.”

“addicted?” he whispered, brushing a hand over my hair. “already am. i can’t stop teasing you, looking at you… thinking about all the stuff i could say if i weren’t trying to be… nice.”

i let out a laugh, turning to face him. “oh? really? and what kind of stuff would that be?”

he smirked, leaning close, the faintest touch of his lips brushing mine. “stuff that would make your cheeks hot, make you squirm, make you realize just how… terrible i am. and how much you secretly like it.”

i flushed but tried to keep my grin. “secretly, huh? dangerous.”

“exactly,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to my jaw, then whispering in my ear, “but don’t worry… i’ll be nice. mostly. until you can’t resist me anymore.”

i laughed quietly, letting myself sink against him. “you’re impossible.”

“and you love it,” he murmured, brushing his lips softly over mine again. “admit it.”

“i… might,” i breathed, smirking despite myself. “a little.”

“that’s all i get?” he teased, eyes sparkling with mischief. “that’s not nearly enough for someone like me.”

i giggled, pressing closer into him, letting the warmth of his hoodie and the small space we shared feel like its own world. miles, broody and sharp for everyone else, was soft with me—playful, teasing, and just a little dangerous in the best way.

“and i’m supposed to be scared of you?” i whispered, brushing a hand over his chest.

“not scared,” he said, brushing my hair back. “excited. curious. and maybe… a little worried you’ll start teasing me back and ruin my reputation.”

“i plan to,” i said, grinning. “careful… you might get more than you bargained for.”

miles chuckled, dropping the guitar on the bed and leaning closer, letting his hand rest over mine. “good. i like a challenge.”