@kingdonmicrofic day nineteen: heels | 151/151 | rating: e | warnings: explicit sexual content
He's never liked exhibitionism. Abby used to try to make out with him in the middle of her sorority parties in college; whenever he expressed his discomfort, she would pout and call him an asshole for making her look dumb.
So he can't explain how he's ended up in a club bathroom with his dick out, other than the fact that it's Mel. He'd walk across hot coals for her; fucking her in the middle of Javadi's 21st birthday party is an honor.
She wraps her legs around his waist as he lifts her dress, and she lets out the prettiest sigh he's ever heard as he slides his cock inside her. Her heels dig into his lower back, pushing him further into her.
And when she finally breaks around him – he pulses and spills into her moments later – he thinks that maybe he hasn't been giving exhibitionism its fair shake.
Stretched out on the sand-covered blanket, Frank looks over, brows furrowed. The setting sun reflects off the ocean waters and it makes his face glow. “Regret what?”
“Any of it,” she says, hugging her knees to her chest, heels digging into the sand. “Leaving Abby.” Her voice falters. “Me.”
“Mel.” He sits up, crawls closer. “Look at me please?”
Inhaling, Mel closes her eyes, heart pounding in her chest. When he gently tugs on her hand, she finally manages to meet his gaze. His eyes look bluer than usual.
“Mel, I love you,” he says firmly, no hesitation. His thumb runs down the bones of her hand. “I could never regret spending the rest of my life with you.”
“Even though—”
“Yes.” Firmly, he pulls her closer. “Despite everything. I will always choose you.”
Mel crawls into his lap. In the embrace of his arms, she exhales.
@kingdonmicrofic | july 19 | prompt: heels | 485 words
cw: explicit sexual content
Now
The PTMC gala was two months away, and Mel was trying to stay on top of everything she needed to do. Given that her stepfather was an attending and there was probably some question about nepotism in regards to Mel’s hiring (though Abbot had recused himself from her interview process), Mel knew that she had to put her best foot forward at the gala.
To that end, she, Samira, and Becca had gone out to get gowns for the event. Mel selected a dress that was midnight blue in color, with straps and a deep V neckline edged in lace. She had a pair of heels to go with it—black and low with a thick heel, and with one strap that went over her toes, and another around her ankle. She’d gotten the dress altered and was just double checking on the fit a few minutes before Frank was due to arrive for dinner.
There was a knock on the door and then Frank called, “Mel?” before he opened it. She’d left it unlocked for him and he had a perfect view down the hallway, where she was standing in front of the full-length mirror hanging on the back of her door.
“Oh, baby.” Frank pressed his hand to his chest, his mouth hanging open. “Is that your dress for the gala?”
“Well, yes.” Where else was she going to wear a floor-length gown? He looked so in awe that Mel couldn't help but be endeared by it.
He was in front of her in an instant, cupping her face in his hands. He kissed her deeply, fingers tangling in her loose hair. “Stunning, sweetheart. You look absolutely stunning.”
Mel sank into Frank’s embrace, clinging to his shoulders. It wasn’t long before Frank stripped the dress off of her, draping it carefully over an armchair as they stumbled into the living room. He helped Mel out of her underwear and only paused long enough to unzip and open his jeans before he was bending her over the back of the couch. His fingers slipped between her legs to see if she was ready (and of course she was, because it was so easy to be ready for him), and Mel pressed back into him, grinding her bottom against his hard cock.
When Mel moaned, Frank thrust inside her. He set a fast, hard pace, one that had Mel whining and keening. Deep inside her, Frank got her there with his fingers on her clit.
Mel gasped, “Come inside me,” and Frank ground against her as he spilled inside her. He draped himself over her back, warm and strong, as they hung over the couch and tried to catch their breath.
Once her heart rate slowed, Mel realized she was still wearing her heels. Grinning, Frank ducked down to run a reverent hand along her calf.
@kingdonmicrofic | july 18 | prompt: parade | 480 words
Now
It was the parade of the frat boys, and everyone in the pitt was having a good time with it. The group of ten young men arrived with dehydration and gastrointestinal problems following the consumption of a bad batch of jungle juice. They had them all lined up in different rooms, receiving fluids from IVs and holding buckets in their laps in case they threw up.
They were all in relatively good moods, despite the fact that they were being treated in the ED. Robby already had to put a stop to a wheelchair race, and Frank found four of them in one room, making catapults out of tongue depressors and cotton balls. That game was relatively harmless at least, so Frank left them to it.
The parade of frat boys were also relentless flirts. Princess was having the time of her life listening to them, claiming that she discovered a new pickup line or two. Trinity already grumpily declared that she was going out to chairs so she didn’t have to deal with any of it. Jesse gamely flirted back with the president of the fraternity; Samira didn’t even realize she was being hit on at all.
Mel, on the other hand, was being flirted with too blatantly for her to miss it.
“You look like the hot tutor I had last year.” Her patient, twenty-one year old Chase, waved a hand to encompass Mel from head to toe. “She had that whole librarian thing going for her, too.”
“Um…” Mel focused on checking his vitals. She couldn’t ever remember a time a patient had been so forward with her before. “That’s nice.”
Chase smirked. “What are those scrubs hiding, doc?”
Thankfully, Mel was saved from having to deflect with the interjection of a familiar voice. “Doctor King is a very busy woman. She has other patients to see,” Frank stated, sounding pleasant enough. His eyes, sharp and cold, gave him away.
Later, Mel found him out in the ambulance bay. “I appreciated the save earlier,” she told him. She was still adjusting to handling patients like that, though she figured not engaging was the best course of action.
Frank snorted. “That parade of idiots—”
“Frank!”
“—did nothing but take up our time today.”
Mel peered up at him. There was only one explanation for his behavior. “Frank… are you jealous?”
He glanced at her before quickly looking away. A vein in his jaw popped. He mumbled something that Mel didn’t quite catch, but she let out a little laugh and wrapped both of her arms around one of his. She pressed her cheek to his bicep, enjoying the crisp fall air.
“You’re sweet, but also very silly.” Mel turned her head, pressing her lips to his bicep. When Frank grunted, she nipped him lightly with her teeth, and he finally laughed. “You have nothing to worry about.”
@kingdonmicrofic dat 17: crowd. 488/317. cw: none.
context: small kingdon anastasia au based on the musical.
header credit: tuacahn center for the arts, "anastasia"
In that silence of the quiet Parisian hotel, a scream rang out. Frank rushed into Mel’s room as she cried out in her bed alone, eyes closed and terrified. Running up to her, he wakes her, seeing her eyes open full of tears as she’s stunned back into reality, grabbing into his arms and crying about the voices coming back, as he attempted to soothe her, pushing away the nightmare.
“Who do you think I am, Frank?” Mel asks him, all of a sudden, breaking away and pleading to him, hazel eyes with red at the rims.
“If I were the Dowager Empress, I’d want you to be—”
“Do you think I’m her?” Mel shuts him down.
“I want you to be.” He confesses. They’re in silence for a long moment before Franks allows himself to speak up. “When I was ten, the Romanov’s had a parade for the summer solstice. There was a crowd of thousands in the square that day, and everyone wanted to get a glimpse of the royal family. Even me.”
He remembers the heat of the sun on his face, with the shade provided by all the crowding adults around him. Kids on shoulders, or being held in their parents’ arms. He’d never had that kind of luck.
“And I was little and scrappy, I ran under legs and knees squeezing through every person in my way. I got so far that the parade was suddenly in front of me, and she was right there. An eight-year-old, sitting straight, as regal and poised as a queen.” He laughs and straightens his posture, only now realizing how much he was hunching over. “And I called out her name and I reached out to her and she smiled.”
Frank’s heart skips a beat as it had all those years ago, keeping a piece of that memory for himself, remembering how an instant later the princess was gone and they parade travelled on.
“You make me feel like I was there too.” Mel says, voice watery.
“Maybe you were. Use that.”
Nervously Mel makes the story her own. “There was a parade, passing through the middle of town. It was hot. Not a cloud in the sky. And as we were moving along, this little boy caught my eye. Thin, raggedy, dirty.” Mel teases, and he smiles back. “But he was so fast, dodging everyone. Commoners and guards alike. No one could catch him.”
The memory was a lot more lovely when Mel told it.
“I could hear him, calling out my name, when out of nowhere he was next to my carriage. I couldn’t help myself; I wasn’t supposed to but when our eyes met, I smiled.” Mel says brandishing that her own breathtaking grin, “And then, he bowed…” Her voice trails off, confused as his blood runs cold.
@kingdonmacrofic Day 17: Crowd (958 words, general audiences, tw: addiction)
“The fuck is happening out there?” Frank asks Charlie, the college kid also working the market today. He’s been in the truck, loading pallet after pallet of berries and peaches, plums and apricots onto big cardboard flats to take out to the stand watching the line grow, not moving an inch.
“Some chick’s holding up the line,” Charlie sighs. “She’s been looking at peaches for twenty minutes.”
Frank frowns. “Let me go handle it,” he says, wiping his forehead just under his hat. “People will start to leave if the line doesn’t move.”
He lifts a box of blueberries, a familiar twinge in his low back that he’ll take care of later with the baggie of pills in his car.
It’s just for a few more weeks, he told himself when he took them from the hospital last night. Until the end of the summer. They need the extra money, and Frank’s sister was doing him a favor letting him work Saturday mornings for her wife’s family farm. Then he would stop taking the pills and try to wean off again, for real this time.
When he sets the box down, he sees a blonde with glasses carefully squeezing a peach, the others in line eyeing her in frustration.
“Hey!” Frank calls, walking to face her on the other side of the table. “Looking for anything in particular?”
Brown eyes snap up at him, cheeks pink from the morning sun. Her head whips between him and the ever-growing crowd behind her.
“Oh my gosh!” she exclaims. “I’m so sorry! I’ve been holding up the line!”
“No problem,” Frank replies even though it very much is a problem. “Just wanted to make sure you’re finding everything okay.”
“Not really,” she says honestly, speaking quickly. “I just moved to Pittsburgh, and I had my first appointment with my new primary care doctor, and she said that I really should be eating more fruits and vegetables, but my worry is that I don’t really like a lot of them because the textures are too weird, and sometimes one is sweet, but the next is sour, but I’m a doctor as well so I really should be making more of an effort if I’m expected to tell my patients the same thing.”
Frank blinks at her. He’s not sure if he’d ever heard someone say that much in that little time, and his jaw hangs loose as he processes it all. The man just behind her clears his throat, and Frank snaps back to reality.
“Here,” he says, moving the table a little bit to allow her to slip through, “come with me.”
He leads the girl back to the truck, Charlie raising an eyebrow as he carries a box of peaches past him.
“Do you have a favorite fruit?” Frank asks her. “That could be a good place to start if you’re trying to eat more.”
“I like apples,” she says, almost like she’s embarrassed given the rich array of summer produce in front of her. “I’ll also eat bananas sometimes if they’re not too ripe.”
Frank clicks his tongue. “Not in stock right now unfortunately. Anything else?”
Her eyes scan the back of the truck, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.
“Oh!” she exclaims, pointing to a stack of rich, dark berries in the corner. “Blackberries! Blackberry jam is my favorite, but they’re sometimes too tart when they’re fresh.”
“That’s not an issue,” Frank assures her, taking a big step onto the truck bed. “These are some of the sweetest berries the farm’s ever had.”
He grabs a whole pallet, hundreds of berries spread out in the box, along with an empty pint carton and brings them back over to where she’s standing. Frank looks down into the box and pulls out a berry the size of his thumb.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
“Mel,” she answers.
“Well, Mel, I’ll promise you that if this isn’t the best blackberry of your life, I’ll give you this whole pallet for free to make as much jam as you want.”
He offers her the berry, and with a shy grin, allows him to place it in her palm. She inspects it for a moment before biting it in half. Frank watches dark juice run down the corner of her mouth and feels his face get hot.
“Oh wow,” she breathes out. “That’s delicious.”
“Told you.” He extends out the container. “There’s more like that, so this is yours to fill up.”
She takes it, raising an eyebrow in surprise. “Wait really?”
“Have at it,” he insists. “Take the best of the best.”
Her face breaks out into a wide smile that Frank can’t help but match. His chest feels warm, and he doesn’t think it’s because he just earned the farm a customer for life. This girl — Mel — interests him, a new weekly puzzle for him to crack.
It takes her almost ten minutes, carefully judging each berry before putting it into her container, but Mel fills her pint with some of the biggest blackberries Frank’s ever seen. He walks her back out to the front of the stand, the line now much more manageable.
“That’ll be three dollars,” he tells Mel, and she narrows her eyes, pointing to the sign pinned up on the table.
“It says seven per pint.”
“Call it a new customer discount.” He winks, and the look on her face makes him not want to think about the gold band on his finger that’s rapidly collecting sweat underneath.
Mel passes him three bills from her wallet and starts to walk away.
“See you next week?” he calls after her, and she turns. “We’re going to have some cherries that I think you might be interested in.”
“Of course,” she answers sweetly, the stain of blackberry juice still on her chin. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
@kingdonmicrofic | july 17 | prompt: crowd | 494 words
Now
Letting out a panicked hum, Mel worked her way through the crowd in the waiting room at the pitt. She felt like her heart was beating out of her chest, and it didn’t slow even when she caught sight of the familiar pigtails and glasses—her twin sister, Becca, was in the ED and Mel had no idea why. Becca was overwhelmed by the crowd and the heat, too, and it didn’t help that Mel could barely calm herself down enough to think of next steps.
Mel couldn’t treat her, of course, so she got the next best thing: Frank. He watched carefully as Mel turned off the lights and made Becca as comfortable as possible. Mel left the room reluctantly, giving her sister the privacy that she wanted.
They called Abbot, of course. He was their emergency contact. He made it to PTMC in record time (Mel wondered if he often stayed close, just waiting to be called in). Mel tried to keep herself busy with other patients, but Abbot hovered near the room, crowding Frank as soon as he stepped out.
Mel slipped in to talk to Becca and discovered she had a UTI as a result of having sex with her new boyfriend. Floored by that information, Mel asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Looking unconcerned, Becca picked at her manicure as she shrugged her shoulders. “Well it’s not like you told me about your secret relationship.”
“I—” It was like Mel forgot to speak. She had no idea that Becca was aware that anything had changed with Mel. Even though she wanted to tell her, Mel decided to not to discuss Frank with Becca, mostly because her sister would definitely tell their stepfather. “What?”
“Oh, come on.” Becca sniffed. “You keep smiling at your phone, and you’re doing stuff all the time now. You’re hiding something because you found a boy to kiss.”
Very maturely, Mel retorted, “You hid your boyfriend from me!”
“So did you!”
“Well I—”
“Hey!” Frank’s interruption was well-timed and appreciated. “Are we good in here?” He arched his eyebrows in Mel’s direction.
Mel swallowed hard. She hadn’t realized how loud they’d gotten. “Yes. We’re fine.” Her words were clipped.
Obviously not believing her, Frank softened his voice and took a step closer. “Is it okay if Abbot comes in?”
“Of course,” Becca said. She looked curiously between Mel and Frank, and Mel had to resist sighing and glaring at her sister.
Mel stepped out with Frank as Abbot went in. He squeezed her arm briefly and immediately got Becca to laugh, and that made Mel feel a little better, at least.
“Hey,” Frank said again, ducking his head to look her in the eye. “You okay?”
Exhaling slowly, Mel nodded. She and Frank would have to talk about this and figure out how to reveal their relationship, likely sooner rather than later. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
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