geek of the week!

bunny!reader ♡

kicking things off with my most popular !reader (mainly because she’s literally me, duh!) bunny!reader is the girliest, prissiest, spoiled princess of the bunch. she’s very sweet in nature, always wanting to be the most well behaved girl there is, but can’t help but let her spoiled nature take over sometimes, resulting in bratting or worse, thumping her foot. she’s never seen unpampered, hair, makeup and nails always in prime condition. she’s known to have the skimpiest outfits ever, tits basically falling out or [insert character] pulling her skirt down when it rides up her ass cheeks. bunny!reader is ditsy, but makes it through life without that mattering. fitting to her name, bunny is always horny and doesn’t matter where she is when she wants it!

songs that give bunny!reader :

lil hero — easy going down

ariana grande, a$ap ferg — hands on me

doja cat — addiction

foxy brown, kelis — candy

slayyyter — bff

kitty!reader ♡

kitty, a self proclaimed loner and weirdo. loves all things perverted and horror. she’s never seen in an outfit that isn’t black and pink or just black. her bed is her haven, she can sleep all day long and often prefers to do so as she’s more of a night owl anyway. the brattiest reader by a long shot, but can be tamed by being put firmly in her place. kitty also loves lace, cheetah print, and cherry print. she loves solitude, but once she’s in a relationship she has to live in that persons skin or she gets very very grumpy.

songs that give kitty!reader:

ladytron — flicking your switch

evanescence — going under

garbage, nellee cooper — #1 crush

cocteau twins — serpenskirt

PJ harvey, thom yorke — this mess we’re in

puppy!reader ♡

pup is just a big baby! she may be messy, clumsy and silly but she’s the sweetest gal around. this reincarnation of sunshine can usually be found running around, super hyperactive, either outside climbing trees or talking to insects. she love love loves the beach, and wish she could spend every second of the day in her bikini or atleast barefoot. if she lives in the city she finds a way! her behaviour and the way she speaks is super reminiscent of cat valentine. blue and yellow are totally her colours, but she’ll always throw in a splash of pink! puppy!reader loves old music, especially when she can walk around listening to it on her walkman. don’t be fooled by her sweetness, pup has an insatiable sexual appetite!

songs that give puppy!reader :

van morrison — brown eyed girl

labi siffre — summer is coming

THE-DREAM — yamaha

rebbie jackson — centipede

enya — wild child

deer!reader ♡

thought daughter! the shyest, quirkiest, most clever reader. definitely an older sister or an only child. deer always has her head buried in a book, or is thrifting! she loves spending time in nature or in her maximalist, cluttered room. a total plant lover, will cry and grieve the ones that die. loves a gentle, soft life that keeps her nervous system regulated, unfortunately the men she goes for does not support this most of the time due to their lifestyles. she loves journalling, polkadots, her sentimental necklace that she never takes off and her beetle. deer is a total cat person! she gets her deer / bambi title from her big curious doe eyes, gentle nature and skittishness. it’s hard to catch her! when i think of deer!reader, i think of taylor russell.

songs that give deer!reader :

fiona apple — o’sailor

lorde — favourite daughter

the feminine complex — are you lonesome like me?

solange — sleep in the park

jeff buckley — last goodbye

lamb!reader ♡

lamb!reader is the picture of innocence, grace and class. the main aspect of her character was that she was raised incredibly religious and is now finding her way as an adult. she’s prude, and can be judgy due to her lack of experience in the world. she’s sheltered, but curious and wants to explore herself and her sensuality — she just doesn’t know how to handle the shame sometimes. her babydoll dress collection, her record collection and her precious moments collection are out of this world. her entire aesthetic is so unintentionally-loveshackfancy-pilled. lamb still goes to church every sunday. she’s always wearing white and is fairly modest, but her ways can be corrupted over time given the right crowd. she drives an old car which always needs one million super expensive repairs due to its age and certain parts not being sold anymore. lamb also loves old music, and lana del rey — she just turns down the volume when she gets all freaky.

songs that give lamb!reader :

peggy lee — johnny guitar

rosie & the originals — angel baby

nancy sinatra — sugar town

mazzy star — she hangs brightly

lana del rey — terrence loves you

mouse!reader ♡

mouse!reader is the closest to an oc that i have given how specific she is — but i class her as a reader as she’s a character you get to play whether or not you relate. mousey is our ballet pro. she had a rough home life, and grew up very low income, so whoever she’s dating [whatever character i write] tends to be the one putting her through ballet school and paying the fees. she has a shoplifting habit and smokes when she’s stressed. somehow, always gets herself out of trouble with her innocent appearance and quiet, unassuming nature. there is a long period of time where she dyes her hair pink, but the upkeep was too much work. she’s prone to depression and reckless choices. very very very shy. she’s always wearing grey and baby pinks. due to the life she’s lived, mouse is attracted to men that are ‘scary’ or ‘dangerous’. ultraviolence by lana is her bread and butter. she collects angelina ballerina items!

songs that give mouse!reader :

lana del rey — ultraviolence

vegyn, air — sexy boy

charli xcx — so far away

grimes — artificial angels

fred again — you’re a star

and no i will not be doing jellyfish!reader before you make that joke.

That fateful day, like those plants must, Frank Langdon feels like death. He’d just gone through his second relapse after being kicked out of PTMC, this time because Abby had decided she needed a break from taking care of him. Not a divorce, just a break. Which was fair. She’d been doing so much work to keep him on his feet, and grounded, and present. It was all she could do, to leave. He knows that, sure, but the first night without Abby felt so empty that he located where she’d left her Xanax and taken half the bottle. Not an incredible idea. Certainly not his finest moment.

For that, they’d decided 30 days to be too little - Frank’s stuck on the 90 day inpatient care program. And his life here is hell. He’s not meant for this, he thinks every time he sits in the community room fiddling with the sleeves of his shirt. He doesn’t want to do anything here. Not yoga, or meditation, or even reading. He wants to go home.

People don’t really make friends here. He knows this too. Some people here are way worse off than he is. They scream in the middle of the night, which makes Frank’s skin crawl, and he needs to put headphones on to sleep through the night.

Today is the same as yesterday was, just as he is sure tomorrow will be. He knows that he needs this. That is the third thing he knows for sure. But that doesn’t make it any less boring.

Today, Frank sits at the back table of the community room. It’s visiting hours, which is the worst part about living here, but his bedroom is more depressing. Abby doesn’t bring the kids. She did the first two times, when they were still trying, but apparently since she’s given up on him, he can’t have his kids anymore either. Which he just loves.

He’s staring down at his phone, which he is mercifully allowed to keep, when the room shifts. He can’t place what it is. It’s like everything brightens instantly, and he looks to the door. And she’s standing there - the woman who Frank is instantly sure will be the love of his life. Her smile glows as she coasts across the room. She’s too light for this place. Certainly not a patient. Everything clicks when she floats to sit beside an obviously less bright girl, with very similar features. Sisters, Frank decides. He knows of this girl. Marlena, he thinks her name is. He remembers her sharing in one of the group therapy sessions, although he’s usually too zoned out to remember her story.

He needs to befriend Marlena, so that next time her sister comes to visit, he’s there with her.

He sleeps that night thinking of her. He thinks maybe he caught her name, but it’s difficult to say. There’s so much chatter in the visiting hours, chatter Frank hates now, because he missed details about her he wishes he knew. It was unlikely it had come up in the conversation between the two of them, but Frank wanted to know how she took her coffee, what her laugh sounded like, if she preferred dogs or cats. She seems like a dog person.

Marlena is very difficult to befriend, which is something Frank comes to discover over the next couple days. He should’ve expected it really. Most rehab patients were the same. Closed off, irritable. But he slowly makes his way in. The first day, he sits with her as they’re eating lunch, and they introduce themselves and then are silent.

Against every instinct in his body, Frank goes to yoga, too. He pulls his mat next to hers and she talks to him sometimes, which is frowned upon by the instructor, who smacks the huge gong to drown them out. But when the gap is bridged, they get to know each other. Marlena is nice, actually, under the rough exterior. And sometimes she talks about her sister, which is Frank’s favourite part.

“You’d really get along with my sister, I think,” She says one day, and Frank could cream his pants on the spot.

If you say so, Marlena.

“Well, when’s the next time she’s coming to visit? Maybe you can introduce us. I’d like to meet the girl you keep speaking so highly of.” And the girl he’s been dreaming about since he first saw her, but he doesn’t add that part, because it’ll come off creepy.

He doesn’t reflect on that thought, and what it could potentially say about him. Too much work.

“Uh… soon. She came in two weeks ago, and she comes twice a month, mostly. Brings banana bread. Or lemon cake.” That makes sense, Frank thinks. Like a real pervert, he’s thinking if she smells like lemons, or maybe something more floral? He’ll have to see. “Just sit with me tomorrow during the hours. Maybe then.”

Despite his original ulterior motives behind their friendship, Frank does like Marlena. She’s a nice girl, and having a friend in here is really helping him cope with everything. He hopes him being obsessed with her sister isn’t going to be a problem.

He dreams of his girl again that night - it’s definitely weird he’s already calling her that when he doesn’t even know her. He can’t bring himself to care. He dreams of being in an empty, dark room, and watches it light up as she enters, more dramatically than their first meeting, courtesy of his brain. Even though he’s not sure on her name yet, she says his like she’s praying it, and right as her lips are ghosting over his, he shoots up in a cold sweat. Which is perfect. He didn’t want to dream about it anyway.

As he’s getting ready the following morning, he’s acutely aware this could be the day he finally meets her. He’s aware of it as he pushes a comb through his hair for the first time since he’s been here, deciding whether or not to let a strand of hair hang over his forehead. He decides to do it. He’s aware of it as he changes his shirt three times until he lands on a comfortable blue sweater, fine for the day since the winter hadn’t started to heat up yet. And he’s aware of it when he sits across from Marlena during the visiting hours, and she stares at him like he came from another planet.

“You shaved.” She frowns, and from her expression, you’d think his skin turned purple. “And you brushed your hair. Are you wearing cologne?”

“I haven’t gotten any visitors yet. I want to make a good impression.” He mumbles sheepishly, looking away from her.

“She’s not visiting you. She’s visiting me, and you happen to be here.” In the middle of her sentence, the first couple of visitors start streaming in. But it’s not her. Not yet. “She texted me she’s coming. So, you know.”

Frank’s not sure where to put his eyes. He wants to see her as soon as she walks in, the girl who’s been haunting his dreams for the better part of two weeks, but he doesn’t want to seem pathetic. So he looks at Marlena instead, confident he’ll feel the same energy shift. And while they wait, they chat about menial things, just as they always do.

He feels it 10 minutes later when the scent of lemons - he was right - and what he could only describe as pure sunlight stream into the room. “Hi, Lena!” On top of everything else, her voice might be the most beautiful thing Frank’s ever heard. He watches as she wraps her sister in a tight hug before she sits across from him.

“And you must be Frank.” She beams, reaching her hand out to him. He shakes it, and his brain works in overdrive to memorise the way her hand feels in his. “Marlena told me about you. Nobody’s tried to be friendly with her yet. Thank you for keeping her company while I can’t.”

He tries to speak about twice, but his throat is dry and he can’t manage to form words other than a weak, “No problem.”

He comes to learn more about her, mostly because he can’t get a word in edgewise. Not that he wants to. He wants to know everything about her, and if that means he needs to be quiet, fine. He won’t complain.

He learns she is Marlena’s younger sister, but she’s not younger than him by very much. She likes dogs and cats, she paints her own nails, she owns a flower shop. Her laugh, Frank discovers, is sweet and loud, like she’s so unabashed she can’t hold it back. He’s pretty sure she snorted once at something Marlena had said.

Right before she leaves, something incredible happens. He stands to shake her hand, and she pulls him away from Marlena to have a private conversation. “Sorry if this is weird, but would it be okay if I got your phone number? She’s been here a while, uhm- sometimes they take her phone if they’re not sure what she’s doing, and I have no way to reach her.”

“Oh, sure. That’s fine. They’ve never taken mine before.” His heart is skipping in his chest as she types her number into his phone, and then hands him hers.

“It was super nice to meet you,” She starts as he types in his contact, smiling up at him. It’s absolutely radiant. “I meant what I said earlier. Lena’s a sweetheart, but she’s terrible at making friends. I’m so glad she has you.”

“Well, it worked out pretty well.” He shrugs sheepishly, and before he can deflect again, there are arms wrapped around his torso. He carefully presses one of his hands to her lower back to hold her, and sighs, melting into her arms pathetically. Nobody’s hugged him in a while, and he senses she can tell since she doesn’t let go for a bit. When she pulls back, she presses a soft kiss to his cheek, leaving behind a shimmering print of lip gloss.

“Nice meeting you, Frank.”

She visits more regularly the next few weeks, and every time, he gains a little more information about her which he catalogues. He’s started keeping a journal, which apparently is something helpful, although he’s not sure this was what his therapist had intended it for. They’ve been texting pretty regularly too. Menial things, but it’s the best part of Frank’s day.

Me: My kids came by today and ate some of the cupcakes you brought last time. Big hit.

Me: Also Marlena didn’t want the weighted blanket but I’m loving it!

Sunshine: shame she didn’t like it!!! i’m glad your kids like my cupcakes though :)

Sunshine: i’ll bring more next time so you can enjoy them for longer

Me: Literally couldn’t think of anything better

Marlena’s not up to a visit today, but told Frank her sister would be coming anyway, to see him, apparently. This makes him a lot happier than he lets on, but he’s good about keeping his excitement in, considering the depressive state Marlena is in. He sits with her a bit, but then she tells him to go see her sister with a less than nice tone, so he opts to squeeze her wrist softly before going to wait in the family room.

The greeting is the same as always, except today it’s only his name squealed from her lips. “Frank!” She beams, and rushes over to hug him. He has grown very fond of this part over the last few weeks. They settle into casual conversation. She updates him about her store, he tells her about the insane thing his therapist said in their last session. This is how their talks usually go.

“I’m almost finished here. I need to look for a place to live.” He scrubs a hand down his face, resting his elbows on the table. Sometimes he finds it difficult to look at her while he’s talking, because she always looks at him like he’s the most interesting thing she’s seen in her whole life, and it unfortunately makes him really nervous. So he’s focused on an unidentifiable stain on the table. “Do you know anybody who’s renting a place out?”

“Uh, yeah, actually.” She laughs, and he can tell she’s trying to catch his eye, so he looks at her, and his body feels like it’s gonna flip inside out. “I need a roommate.”

His jaw drops. Did he hear her right? Is she asking him to move in with her?

She must sense his confusion, because her brow puckers, and he has the sudden urge to reach out and smooth the crease with his thumb. Thankfully, he restrains himself. “That’s a lot for me to ask of you.”

“Oh, you’re not asking! I’m offering,” She supplies easily, like she’d anticipated his response. “I mean- seriously, Frank, it’s the least I can do for you. You’ve been taking such good care of Marlena in here. She was really struggling before she met you.”

It’s then that he notices her eyes getting teary, and he reaches out without thinking to take her hand across the table. She immediately smiles, and squeezes him softly. His thumb rubs absent-mindedly across the back of her hand.

“I’d really like to thank you for that. I don’t think I ever fully can, but we really owe you.” She reaches out to take his other hand, and how could he say no to that face? Even though every nerve in his body is telling him not to, he has to. He can’t help himself.

“Okay. Sure. Thank you, sunshine.”

So the plans are made that Frank will move in with her after his last day. It’ll be easy for the first few months, because he needs to be sober for six months before returning to work as a part of his new contract, and he’s only done three so far. They’ll discuss it again when he starts working, she promises him.

Sunshine: [attachment]

Sunshine: this is your new room!! what should I put up in there

Sunshine: wheres all your stuff right now actually

Me: Abby told me she had all of it moved to a storage unit

Sunshine: get her to give me the key I’ll gather all your stuff and put it up in here

Sunshine: make it feel more homey for you

Sunshine: maybe leave out the part about it being me though idk if she’d be a fan of you moving in with another girl right after your divorce

Sunshine: even if its not like that

Me: Stop panicking

Me: I’ll give you the key next time you visit

Sunshine: i’ll bring brownies as compensation

The day Frank is ready to check out of rehab, they both cry. Marlena tells him she’s crying because she’s losing her best friend, which makes his heart heavy. His girl is crying because she’s so proud of him. She also tells him later in the car that she’s worried about Marlena being alone, now that she’s used to having a friend, but Frank assures her it’ll be okay.

The weekly visits start happening, only it’s different, because Frank is on the other side of it. It’s strange to reenter the space at first, but it’s worth it to see Marlena. He texts her now too. It’s also strange that Frank had made not one, but two friends out of this whole ordeal. When he’d first checked in, he’d come to terms with the fact he’d be alone for the rest of his life. It certainly didn’t seem that way now.

Not when he spends most of his days at her store, and when he’s not there, neither is she. She doesn’t need to be there every day, so sometimes they just spend the day together going shopping for new decoration for their apartment, or binging shows on the couch. She’s gotten him very into Grey’s Anatomy, which he’s taken to critiquing for being incredibly inaccurate. Every time he does, she complains about him ruining it for her and hits him with a pillow. It’s a sweet routine.

The way they live is comfortable. He feels more at home there than he did with Abby, which somehow doesn’t feel as bad as it definitely should. Because there’s no arguments in this apartment. They laugh in the kitchen while cooking dinner, and music plays behind them as she sings along as loud as she can. He wonders how she’s never had a noise complaint before. He’s wondering if that has anything to do with her neighbours, and if they’d complain about other types of noises.

But he tries not to think about that so much. Sure, he’s definitely in love with her. He has been since the first day she walked into the rehab centre, but he doesn’t want to jeopardise this state of bliss he’s living in right now. He’s pretty sure that this is the closest his life has come to perfect. Abby drops the kids off every now and then - she’s grown to accept the new presence in his life, and the kids take to her immediately. He can’t tell if that makes Abby feel better or worse. But he honestly doesn’t care, not when Abby’s the same woman who packed all his things up while he was in rehab without even asking him first.

“Frank? Are you listening to me?” She’s laughing from where she lays across the couch to him, their legs awkwardly jammed together so they’d both fit. He’d been listening her two minutes ago before he’d been lost - if only he could remember what she was talking about.

“I was, I swear.” He laughs too, unable to help himself, because her laugh is the most contagious thing he’s ever experienced, despite working in a hospital. “You were talking about, uh.. about how you need a new employee.”

“You’re such a terrible liar. I was talking about that 5 minutes ago, now I’m talking about how that lady came in wanting snowdrops. I mean, it’s April! Those are so out of season.” Frank knows it’s bad, but he’s not listening again. Instead he’s thinking about how he could listen to her talk for hours, which is ironic, but he’s never claimed he’s not a hypocrite.

But her words serve as a reminder winter is gone. Literally, sure, because it’s May and spring is peaking. But figuratively too. It’s fitting, that his rehab stint happened during the winter, because by the time he was out it wasn’t long until he felt warmth again. Mostly from the girl sitting across from him on the couch.

“Which ones are those again?” He asks, trying his best to make interesting conversation for her.

“The white ones, that are kind of droopy. Those are the ones I brought the second week with the lemon bars.” She nods wisely, reaching for the TV remote from the coffee table. He takes the hint and reaches behind him for the throw blanket they kept handy. “It’s my turn to pick the movie, Langdon, don’t even think about arguing.”

The last time he picked, he’d made her watch Fractured, a terrible movie (although pretty, she’d admitted), and she’d almost smothered him with a cushion. He still needs to figure out what kind of films she likes, but he catalogues every choice she makes. She picks romcoms, mostly, which Frank enjoys, even when he pretends not to. She doesn’t make a move to start scrolling, and he has a feeling she’s going to start talking.

It’s easy for them to get vulnerable, recently. He does it less than she does, but encourages her to talk to him all the same. He likes to hear about her life now, how she’s feeling, stories from her childhood growing up with Marlena. Frank’s far less eager to talk, but sometimes he does. He’s told her about Abby, and the benzos, and his kids, and Robby. She knows just about everything there is to know about Frank. Sure, he may not go into the conversation wanting to share, but by the end of it, he’s always in the same position. Crying with his head in her lap, ashamed of himself.

But she’s so easy to talk to. She asks good questions and her warmth invites him to bare his guts to her, and he just can’t help himself. But tonight she seems to have something she wants to say.

“I’m worried about Mary.” She murmurs, leaning closer to him. Instinctively, he opens his arms to her, and she slides in beside him, head pressed on his chest. He figured out a while ago she likes to listen to his heartbeat. “She’s not doing well. I called her two days ago and she sounded awful, and then the rehab centre called me to tell me they took her phone away again, because she’s been searching stuff up about how to find a high in rehab, or whatever.”

Frank exhales a deep sigh. He’d known this, because sometimes Marlena talked to him about similar stuff while they were in together, but addicts were hardly the best at giving other addicts advice. He feels his green, 3 month sobriety pin burning a hole into his pocket. Wishes that Marlena was here with them. But he needs to be strong for this conversation, so he swallows thickly.

“Hey, she’s gonna be fine. We’re gonna go see her in a few days, and you’ll see that she’s fine.” He’s not sure he believes it, but he knows it’s what she needs to hear. “How could she not be fine? She has the best support system she could possibly ever have, sunshine.” He brushes some hair out of her face, and nods slowly. She leans into his hand, which he’s always found endearing.

“Yeah, you’re right, I’m being silly.” She shakes her head, and laughs nervously.

“No, you’re right to be worried.” He sees her face fall, and stumbles over his words to fix what he just caused. “Not that she’s not okay, but it’s worrying to have a loved one in that kind of situation,” He inhales, and decides it’s time for him to man up and share with her, because she’s looking him with these confused eyes and practically begging him to open up to her. So he does. “My dad was an alcoholic.”

He hears her breath catch, and she nods for him to continue, her hand splaying out beside her head on his chest. “He never did rehab, but he tried AA for a bit. And it was scary for me, because I wasn’t really old enough to understand much of it yet. Just that he was sick, and there wasn’t always a way for people like him to get better.” Somewhere during these words, his hand has taken to stroking through her hair, which she doesn’t seem to mind, so he continues.

“Rehab would’ve really helped him, I think. But he didn’t go. I think if he’d have gone things would’ve been different. That’s why I’m sure Marlena will be better. She’s surrounded by people who want to help her.” Without thinking, he tilts his head, kissing her temple gently. He sighs into her skin, and feels her melting further into his arms.

“You’re right. Thank you for sharing that with me, Frank.” Her voice is muffled by his shirt, and he smiles, cradling her head into his chest. This feels as natural as he knew it would when he’d laid eyes on her that very first day. When he decided she’d be the love of his life. He’s more sure of that in this moment than ever.

“Don’t thank me for that.” He murmurs, shifting slightly as her legs slide on either side of him. She’s laying fully atop him now, and he couldn’t be happier.

“I just want to know you too, Frank. You know so much about me.” She’s practically cooing at him, cheek pressed right over his heart.

“You know more about me than most other people do,” He responds, fingers running through her hair.

“We’ve only known each other a few months.” She mumbles, smiling up at him. Her face lights up with it, and all he can think about is how he doesn’t deserve this affection.

“Scary, isn’t it?” He exhales a deep sigh, and shifts so they’re slightly more comfortable. “You make me feel like I can tell you anything. It’s just always been hard for me to open up. I was taught to keep everything inside.”

“Maybe you just need to expand your bubble.” Her fingers tap on his chest gently, and he has to hold back a whimper. “So that ‘inside’ includes me.”

“Like, I live in your house, and so you live in my heart?” He laughs slightly, pursing his lips and looking down at her. She has no way of knowing just how accurate that was, he thinks.

“Yeah. Exactly, just like that.” She nods, and leans up to press a kiss to his shoulder. His heart catches. There’s been lots of casual intimacy like this the last few weeks, but now, with her body laying across his, his arms wrapped around her, their faces close together like this, Frank is transported elsewhere. To a world where her kisses land right on his lips instead of avoiding them, and she calls him ‘baby’ romantically instead of ‘honey’ platonically.

Before his brain catches up with his body, he sits up slightly so he can lean forward and connect their lips together.

Logically, Frank knows he’s not ready for a relationship. He really means this, and loves her, but he can’t. In therapy, he talks about her, and his therapist keeps telling him it’s not a good idea to get into a relationship right after rehab, because he’s not himself, and he needs stability and routine. It’s just that nothing feels more stable than her presence in his life, and selfishly, he wants to latch on and suck all the energy out of her until he is whole again.

But that’s not what he’s thinking about right now.

Because right now, her lips are on his, and they’re soft, and sweet, and she’s smiling and pressing into him, but Frank can’t do this-

“I’m sorry.” He’s pulling back, although this time it’s his body that protests, rather than his brain. “I shouldn’t have done that, I don’t want things to be weird-”

She cuts him off by lunging forward for another, fists in the collar of his shirt as her lips mould perfectly with his, and suddenly all he can think about is her. Everything else is filtered out in favour of him focusing on her.

Things change after that, albeit for the better. He still has three months left until he can go back to work, but now his days spent at the flower shop are filled with sweet kisses between customers, stolen moments in the stock room when there’s a lull in the amount of people filtering in and out, and best of all, he gets to see her face when he buys her flowers. From her own store, sure, but she always tells him it’s the thought that counts. Which he appreciates. When they cook in the kitchen, there’s interludes of kissing against the counter, or on it, if they’re feeling particularly adventurous.

And somewhere along the way, they start to fall asleep in the same bed, too. It doesn’t matter if its hers or his, as long as they end up in each others arms at the end of the night. By the end of the first month of this routine, Frank can’t sleep without her beside him. Which he insists on every night. You know, because he needs routine.

He wakes this morning with the sun, yawning and pressing his mouth to her bare shoulder almost immediately. She was wearing one of his t-shirts, but it was so big on her that it may as well be sleeveless. Which he doesn’t mind. She’s still sleeping deeply, because she doesn’t rouse as easy as him. This gives him time to appreciate her, which he tries to do as much as possible. His eyes linger on the dip between her neck and shoulder, the place he knows makes her giggle when he presses his lips there. He watches how her chest rises and falls with each soft breath she takes.

He drops his head beside hers on the pillow, looking up at her and thinking about how lucky he was to have found her. The thoughts never go away, though, he’s found. He still thinks about how he doesn’t deserve this, and how at any minute the other shoe will drop and the world will take her from him.

Then she stirs, and her eyes blink open to meet his. And he smiles, because right now, she is his, and he is hers.

“Morning, honey.” He whispers, leaning forward for a quick kiss.

“Yuck, Frankie, morning breath.” She gags teasingly, giggling and stealing another from him. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even if it’s bound to crash and burn.

credits to feldiesgraphics for the dividers!

The words sat at the top of the page in neat red ink. Ryland frowned slightly as he watched your shoulders sink, the pretty smile you usually wore fading almost instantly. Without a word, you flipped the paper facedown against your desk, trying to hide the grade before anyone else could see it.

The rest of the class passed in a blur for you. You barely looked up from your notebook, and Ryland noticed every second of it.

So when the bell rang and the last student finally shuffled out of the classroom, you slowly made your way to his desk, already expecting disappointment. You were a straight A student.. or at least, you thought you were. You figured he was about to lecture you about studying harder or paying more attention.

Instead, Ryland offered you a soft, reassuring smile. He stepped around the desk and stopped in front of you, gently placing his hands on your arms, rubbing them lightly as he tilted his head with practiced concern.

“A failing grade?” he murmured quietly, his voice laced with false pity and confusion despite the fact that he already knew exactly why it happened. “What’s going on with you, hm? Everything alright? You’ve never done badly in here before.”

Your shoulders fell for what felt like the second time that day, embarrassment settling heavily in your chest while you leaned into the comfort of his touch and attention.

“How about this?” Ryland said softly, his thumbs still brushing against your sleeves. “Tomorrow after class, we can go to the library, and I’ll give you some tutoring with extra credit.” He smiled down at you, warm and encouraging. “A private lesson just for you, hm?”

And true to his word, here the two of you were. Half of the worksheet he’d made specifically for you was already finished, pages covered in your handwriting and little notes Ryland had scribbled in the margins to help explain things better.

The longer the session went on, the more comfortable he became. More questions, more encouragement, more lingering touches disguised as reassurance.

At some point, his hand had settled against your thigh beneath the table, his thumb absently brushing against your skin every so often, giving soft squeezes whenever you got an answer right. Silent encouragement.

By now, his chair was pushed so close to yours that your shoulders nearly brushed every time either of you moved. There were only a few questions left on the page when Ryland leaned in beside you, his head close to yours as he read the next question aloud.

“Where do meteors come from?” he asks quietly, tilting his head as he looks over at you. His eyes flick down to the edge of your glitter pen caught between your teeth. Without thinking much about it, he reaches over and gently pulls it from your mouth, setting it on the other side of the table.

“Mr. Grace, I need that,” you complain softly, frowning as you watch him take it away. “It helps me focus.”

Ryland quickly catches your hand before you can reach for it again, guiding it back into your lap. His fingers briefly curl around your wrist before he lets go, his other hand moving to your chin to gently turn your attention back toward the worksheet.

“Answer this one,” he murmurs, voice low and calm, “and you can have it back.”

You huff quietly, shooting him a look before glancing back down at the paper. “Meteors come from…” you mumble to yourself. “Hmm.”

“Think about all the things floating around in space besides stars and planets,” Ryland says softly, though his attention seems less focused on the worksheet and more on you.

“Pretty comets,” you say absentmindedly before your face lights up with realization. “Oh! It’s debris from comets!” You straighten in your seat with a proud smile, clearly pleased with yourself.

“And asteroids. Good job,” Ryland says with an approving grin, finally handing your pen back to you.

As you begin writing down the answer, Ryland quietly glances around the library. The aisles between the shelves were empty. No students sat at the nearby computers, and the tables surrounding yours had long since cleared out.

The only other person he could spot was the half asleep student working the front desk, barely paying attention to anything around them.

He glances over to you, his eyes narrowed as he thinks to himself, “How about we play a game? To get through these last questions a little quicker?”

Before you can fully process what’s happening, your chair is turned toward Ryland’s, your shorts pushed halfway down your thighs as his hand rests between your legs. His touch is slow and agonizing, teasing enough to make it impossible to focus while he keeps his attention on the worksheet in front of him.

“For every question you answer,” he murmurs quietly, leaning closer, “I’ll give you a little more. Don’t worry, I’ll make them easy.” Your pulse jumps at the calmness in his voice, at the way he acts like this is all completely normal.

“First question,” Ryland says softly, finally glancing over at you. “Is Pluto a planet?”

You stare at him for a second, brows furrowing in disbelief at how simple the question is. “It’s a dwarf planet,” you answer quietly. The praise in his expression is immediate, a smug little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

As you open your mouth to speak, your breath suddenly catches, your back arching up off the chair as you feel Ryland slip a rough finger inside of you.

“Good job,” he murmurs softly, his voice low and steady as he watches your reaction carefully. “You’re doing really good. Just stay quiet for me, okay?”

His attention briefly flicks around the library again, making sure no one is paying attention to the secluded corner the two of you had tucked yourselves into.

As the questions continued, the atmosphere between you shifted more and more. Ryland stayed close, one hand resting against the back of your chair while he guided you through the last few questions on the worksheet, his voice calm and fingers constantly moving.

“Mr. Grace…” you whisper quietly, leaning back in your chair as you begin to feel light headed from holding back. Your fingers curl tightly around his wrist, your brows drawn together while you look up at him, already overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch.

Ryland exhales slowly through his nose, clearly trying to keep himself composed despite the tension hanging heavy between the two of you. “Hey,” he says softly, lowering his voice even further. “Focus on me. You’re alright.”

“One last question,” he whispers, his voice low and careful as he leans closer to you. “Answer this one, and we’re done, okay?”

You barely manage to focus on him, your breathing uneven as Ryland watches you over the rim of his glasses, his expression far too calm for the situation the two of you had gotten yourselves into.

“A black hole,” he says softly, tilting his head. “Is it two dimensional or three?”

Your lips part, but no answer comes out. At this point, you can hardly think straight, your thoughts tangled beyond repair while Ryland’s attention stays fixed entirely on you.

The pressure finally becomes too much, you come undone, coating his fingers as you lean back into the chair with a shaky breath, gripping tightly onto his wrist while he watches you carefully, his pupils blown wide behind his glasses.

Ryland lets you recover for a moment before finally pulling away, calm and composed despite the tension written all over his face. He quietly reaches into his pocket for his handkerchief, wiping his hands clean with practiced ease before glancing back over at you.

“It was a trick question,” he says casually, the corner of his mouth tugging upward into the faintest smirk. “Black holes are considered four dimensional.”

You stare at him in disbelief, still trying to catch your breath while he acts as though this were just another tutoring session. Realizing you definitely aren’t the first student he’s been with and you won’t be the last.

Once everything, and everyone, is gathered, Ryland stands first, adjusting his glasses as he looks down at you.

“Same time next week?” he asks quietly. You hesitate only for a second before giving him a small nod, silently confirming that, despite everything, neither of you wanted this to be the last and only time.

Ryland gives a satisfied nod of his own before turning toward the exit of the library.