rodrikstark's headcanons (part 1)

eureka (college! f. adler x reader)

frank drops your coat across the keyboard of your laptop. a frown creases your face as you shove it away.

"you're taking a break," he says.

"frank, i'm almost done. i just need to do this one—"

he pulls at your chair a couple of times until you roll your eyes, standing up from your high stool in the coffeeshop, fingertips still tapping your keyboard. he drapes the heavy material around your shoulders, taking your arms and coaxing them, one at a time, through the sleeves. your eyes stay fixed on the screen.

"sweetheart," he murmurs, his lips close to the shell of your ear. "put on your gloves. now."

"we're gonna lose our spot," you whine, as he force-saves your document and shuts your laptop. you had arrived at the coffee shop early to grab a seat in front of the window—where you could watch other students and cute dogs walk by—but far enough away from the door that it wouldn't be chilly.

your backpack had sat in the chair next to you, reserving a seat for frank, who arrived about an hour into your long study session with some healthy snacks and a kiss to your cheek.

"let's walk to the library," he suggests, gently wrapping your scarf around your neck. "we can find a good spot there."

he pushes your laptop into your backpack then slings it over his shoulders. a firm hand at your lower back steers you out the door and into the cold afternoon air as your nose scrunches in frustration.

you're already wringing your hands, face turned downward as your fingers itch to open your computer. grabbing frank's hand, you stride purposefully down the sidewalk, hoping that your favorite wing of the library isn't too full.

his hand leaves yours. then, a heavy arm around your shoulders traps you against his warm body, forcing you to walk at a leisurely pace.

leisure: something that feels far away from your currently addled mind.

you just want to take another look. you were so close to finally figuring out—

"want something to eat?" he asks, moving his chin to point at your favorite restaurant across the street.

you shake your head quickly.

"all you've had is coffee and a muffin, sweetheart."

"frank, stop talking."

he quiets for a few minutes as you stroll down the streets, sidestepping groups of friends and laughing families. frank keeps you firmly against him, annoyingly savoring every step.

as soon as you hang a right and the library comes into view, it hits you.

you twist out of his grip. "frank! give me my laptop. i got it." he only smiles at you, so you slap his chest. "frank."

he turns around for a moment to let you get your computer. then, he locks his elbows to his sides, holding out his forearms as a makeshift desk for your laptop.

you open the lid, log in, and type down everything you just thought of. you can formalize it all later, once you claim your spot in the library.

the whole time, frank grins at you.

"stop," you say bashfully. your face warms despite the brisk boston cold.

"diane taught me that," he murmurs. "when she gets stuck on a proof after hours of staring at it, she takes a walk outside. all of a sudden, boom. the answer's right there." he pauses, still watching the excitement on your face as you type. "jesus, you're so beautiful."

you shut your laptop with a satisfying click. hugging it to your chest, you step into frank's outstretched arms. "you're whipped, adler."

he hums, his nose nudging your forehead. "grab us a spot in the library and i'll go pick up some food." he takes your computer, replacing it in your bag and holding it out to you.

you shake your head, whining a little. "no, take me with you."

he laughs. "you hungry right now?"

your bottom lip juts out. "maybe."

smirking, he puts on your backpack again. "i knew it."

"shut up."