Kingdon Macrofic

When your microfic ends up too big...

[kingdonmacrofic]

This is a sideblog for @kingdonmicrofic. That blog requires submissions to be under 500 words, but if our prompts inspire longer fic, that’s also really exciting!

So we are going to reblog longer fic here.

[thepittrat]

Day 19: Heels | 1,186/151 (opps!) | G | mild angst, mild hurt/comfort, happy ending | @kingdonmacrofic

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Her heels were already making her feet hurt and she had only had them on for ten minutes. How was she going to make it through the rest of the day—her wedding day—when her feet were stuffed into torture devices?

Today Mel was marrying Dr. John Shen, her very nice senior attending in the ED. She was happy, she thought, but she also had a pit in her stomach, gnawing through her insides.

“It’s time.” Becca announced, popping her head into Mel’s dressing room.

Becca was her maid of honor and her only bridesmaid. Mel didn’t mind that her sister was the only friend she had, she was the only one she needed, except for Frank of course.

She inhaled a sharp breath, closing her eyes before replying, “Where’s Frank?”

Frank was fulfilling the duty of walking her down the aisle. She had made peace with the fact that her dad wouldn’t be there to do it a long time ago, so when Frank had offered, she was glad to take him up on it. He was, after all, the closest thing she had to a friend. Although Frank had transcended the title friend long ago. He was more than that, he was her steady among a storm.

“He’s right here. I didn’t know if you were ready for him to see you yet.”

“He’s not the groom Becca, of course I’m ready.” There was a tinge of annoyance in her voice, it wasn’t directed toward Becca, but that is how it sounded when she heard the words leave her lips. She was annoyed because part of her knew she wished Frank was the man she was walking down the aisle to, not with.

“Ok, I’ll tell him to come in. I think you need a hug.”

“Don’t tell him that, Becca!” Mel yelled, but her sister had already closed the door.

It was only a minute later that Frank came into the room, his gray linen suit iron pressed and well fitted. His hair in its usual floppy mound atop his head.

“You look—gorgeous.” He said, his mouth hanging open, his eyes scanning over Mel’s body.

“Thanks.” She replied, brushing the fluffy skirt of her ballroom gown down, her cheeks burning red.

“Becca says you need a hug.”

She picked at the edges of her fingers, her hands in front of her.

“I told her not to tell you that.” She huffed.

“Come here.” Frank motioned for her to come into his open arms.

She practically ran to him, her arms stretched out towards him. They fell into a soft embrace, Mel’s face pressed against his chest, breathing the scent of him in.

They stood like that for a while, bodies intertwined, before she spoke, “This material is scratchy,” her voice cracking as the words left her mouth.

Frank pulled her face from his chest, holding onto her by the cheeks. Her eyes began to well with tears.

“Mel, don’t cry. You know I can’t see you cry or I’ll start crying.”

He wiped away the tears that fell from under her eyes with his thumb.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s an emotional day.”

Becca popped her head back into the room to tell her she had three minutes before she needed to be walking down the aisle.

“Ok it’s time. Now let’s get you married.” Frank said, before placing a kiss to her forehead.

Now, they stand at the wooden double doors that lead to the sanctuary of the church her and John are getting married in. Her right hand is wrapped firmly around Frank’s bicep, and his hand rests on top of hers. In her left hand she carries her wedding bouquet, purple cala lilies. The organ begins to play the wedding march, a loud tune that shakes the floor beneath them. She wants to cover her ears, but she knows she is just going to have to make peace with her uncomfortableness.

 “Frank, what if I don’t want to do this?”

Just as she speaks the words, the doors open and she is met with the stares of seemingly every person she has ever known in her life, her worst nightmare.

Frank glances at her quickly, his mouth agape. They take the first step, their feet moving in tandem.

The organ grows louder as they walk further into the church, but all Frank can hear is the beating of his heart. He doesn’t want to walk her down the aisle, to her soon to be husband, he wants her to be the one walking to him.

Mel’s eyes lock on Shen’s, his lips parted in the widest smile, his hands crossed in front of him. While he is handsome and very kind, and could make the perfect partner, he isn’t who she wants. She wants Frank, she had always wanted Frank.

Their feet finally reach the end of the aisle. Mel looks to her left and sees Becca in her green satin gown, a frown on her face. She wonders why she is upset, she hopes it isn’t because of how she spoke to her earlier.

A million thoughts race through her mind. Should she make a run for it, get out and never look back? She couldn’t do that to John. Or could she?

He’s supposed to be giving her away, but he doesn’t want to, he wants to keep her forever. He doesn’t want another man having her for the rest of her life; if he doesn’t do something now, he’ll regret it for the rest of his.

“You don’t have to do this.” Frank’s voice echoes in Mel’s right ear.

“What?” She says, shocked by the statement.

“You could run away with me; we could run away together.”

Was he really asking her to run away with him? She wanted nothing more than to do that very thing, but how could she do that to John?

She looks up, her eyes connecting with Franks, she stares at him intently trying to read his mind. If she doesn’t run now, she knows she’ll regret it as long as she lives. She takes one last look at her sister, and unlike with Frank she can read Becca’s mind, and her eyes tell her to run. She is sure now, more than ever, that this is the right move. Mel reaches down, removing her heels from her feet and handing them to Frank.

“Run!” She tells him, her grasp tightens around his arm.

They both take off in a dead sprint. Behind her she can hear Becca clapping, and chanting go, Mel, run, she knows she’s made the right choice. When they make it outside of the church, Frank stops. He grabs Mel by the waist, spinning her around to face him before planting a deep kiss on her lips.

I love you, he whispers.

I love you too, she whispers back.

They run off into the sunset together, Mel’s dress blowing in the wind, her god-awful heels left on the steps of the chapel, in the past, as her and Frank run towards their future.

[kodwrites]

Day 17: Crowd

@kingdonmicrofic @kingdonmacrofic | 831 words | Rated T for violence against healthcare workers | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here

May 11, 2031 (Mother's Day)

She supposed it was her own fault. 

Their patient, Cameron Davis, male, 29, had been stabilized enroute by EMS. After running the initial response, they’d parked him in North 4, where he was currently dozing.

Emma was already there when Mel entered the room, checking his IV. As Mel reached the bedside, she looked over the chart.

The patient immediately started thrashing as he woke up, the bottom of his foot catching her squarely in the stomach. The iPad clattered to the ground as Mel doubled over in pain, wrapping one arm around her belly as her other hand clutched her thigh in a desperate attempt to keep herself upright. She screwed her eyes shut, gasping for air with shuddering breaths.

Her ears were ringing so loudly that she couldn’t hear Emma call the ‘code hula hoop’, didn’t hear the thundering footsteps of her colleagues bursting into the room. 

The ringing gave way to a cacophony of voices overlapping in the commotion:

“Get her a wheelchair!” 

“Hold him down!”

“Let me go, GET OFF OF ME!”

“4 of midazolam!”

“Somebody page McKay!”

“North 7’s open!” 

“Princess, call Langdon, Mel’s been attacked!”

“Get the police down here!”

"Out of the way, move it!"

The commotion receded as she was whisked away into a patient room.

So yeah, probably her fault. She should’ve paid closer attention, maybe she would’ve seen a sign… 

Which brings her to now.

“Dr. King? Kid, can you hear me? Let’s get her on the bed. Ready, three, two…” She recognizes Dana’s voice giving the orders. A blinding flash of light hits her eyes as they check her pupils. She groans, turning her head away, finally blinking her eyes open.

Dana and Donnie are with her, conducting her exam.

Dana squeezes her hand as Donnie completes the ultrasound. No signs of free fluid, internal bleeding or trauma on EFAST.

Mel knows the protocol by heart, knows what question comes next.

“Any chance you could be pregnant?”

She’s four days late. She was planning on taking a test after work, with Frank. She wanted them to be together when they found out… 

She nods.

Mel shivers involuntarily as Donnie adds more gel, keeping her eyes on the screen as he guides the wand across her belly.

Her breath catches. There it is, clear as day. The gestational sac, the fetal pole, a tiny flutter.

A baby. Their baby. Somewhere around six weeks, based on her estimation.

At that exact moment, Frank bursts into the room, completely disheveled and out of breath.

“Mel, oh my god. What happened, are you—?” He makes it about halfway to her bedside when he fully takes in the scene before him, his worried expression giving way to shock and awe. “Wait—is that? Are you—?”

She nods, automatically reaching for him. He rushes to her, clutching her tightly, murmuring softly into her hair. He pulls back to kiss her forehead, then her lips, before wrapping her in his arms once more.

She gives his hair a gentle tug. He understands her signal immediately, releasing her from his hold and grabbing her hand instead. “Baby, oh baby, I love you so much. I was so scared, Mel, you’re really okay?”

God, she loves him. “Yes, I’m okay. More than okay, I’m—there’s a baby. We’re having a baby, Frank.”

Dana clears her throat and they both look up, so immersed in their happy little bubble they’d briefly forgotten where they were. “Congrats, you two. How’s about I give you some privacy?”

Dana hugs Mel first, congratulating her with a kiss on the cheek. When she hugs Frank, Mel hears her whisper, “I’m proud of you, kid. Be good to her,” before leaving the room.

They listen to the heartbeat before getting a printout for the fridge, making plans to follow up with OB. Emma comes by shortly after, both to check on Mel and take a sample for the ordered bloodwork. She also updates her on the patient: there were no predictive behavioral nor clinical signs to warn them, nothing preventative either of them could have done. It wasn’t Mel’s fault, just bad luck.

McKay, the other attending on today, checks in as well, dropping off the discharge papers for Donnie and letting her know Robby agreed to cover the rest of her shift.

Mel knows she’ll have to fill out an incident report, but that was a problem for another day. Right now, all she wanted to do was go home, cuddle on the couch with Frank, and stare at the ultrasound picture until she couldn’t anymore. It strikes her then how much life’s changed since the last time she’d had to do one, smiling to herself as she walks hand-in-hand towards the lockers with her husband.

And if she sees a small crowd by the security office, the money changing hands, as they made their way out? Well, she supposes that's just none of her business.

[miracle-and-wonder]

@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.” 

[dad-inside]

Kingdon Macrofic Day 15 Silk (775)

@kingdonmacrofic Warnings: Brosis, Somno, Panty theft, mel and frank being deeply perverted. DDDNE, Blink and you'll miss it watersports, blink and you’ll miss it blood kink

@purplebutterflyglasses thanks for finding the pic!!!

---

There was something special to completing a set. 

Frank had never been much of a collector, having two little sisters, both of whom were obsessed with him meant things rarely stayed his. Toys, hoodies, chapstick. Turnabout is fair play, though. He’d more than made up for it. 

Frank crept into his favorite sister’s room with practiced silence. Her hinges, oiled; the route to her dresser, memorized. He tiptoed along it. She was such a deep sleeper, his Mel. But it doesn’t hurt to be cautious. He bravely resisted the urge to go through her hamper; he had a routine, and he wasn’t going to ruin it by digging through her hamper looking for another prize. He knew what he was here for. 

He’d been patient. Testing the waters, taking his least favorite pairs and replacing them, one by one with handpicked gifts. An apology, a claim, an oath. He had rules. He could only take his least favorite pair, they had to be clean and fresh from her drawer, he had to replace what he took, only one pair each time. The denouement. Beyond them, however, he was unfettered. 

He preferred to start by sniffing them. Desperate for the trace of her forbidden scent. He wanted them to be undeniably hers before he made them his. Some days he couldn’t resist it, and shoved them in his mouth, trying to taste something more than clean laundry– her musk, her piss, her blood, anything he could take from the fabric. He envied them, her panties. Frank wasn’t kind to the things he envied. 

He liked to claim them fully, wrap the fabric around his cock, and milk himself until they were ruined. He fantasized about it sometimes. Leaving a cum-covered pair on top of her dirty hamper. Taking away every other pair. Leaving her the choice between going bare, or pulling on panties covered with his spend. His cum covering her pretty little cunt. 

He couldn’t. She was accepting, but she wasn’t that pliable. She’d never raised a fuss about his replacements, though some days he caught the glimmer of frustration in her eyes. That frustration would diminish soon, he thought, he was on the last pair she originally had. Like the underwear drawer of Theseus. It wouldn’t be the same, ruining what he’d given her. He might have to stop. He didn’t know if he could.

He’d saved the best for last. Go out with a bang, right? It was red, silky, cheeky cut, with little white patches of lace that would rest on the tops of her thighs. The thought of his Mel in them made him hard. Made him angry. She wasn’t allowed to dress up like a slut. No one was allowed to look at her like that. Who would she wear them for? 

He was excited to ruin them. 

He grabbed them, tiptoed back across the hall to his room, and brought them to his nose. What? Her scent, fresh, stronger than he’d ever felt it. It was tangy. He pressed his nose further in. It brushed against something solid, something that didn’t belong. A note. He took it out, it was his Mel’s handwriting. Idly, he stroked himself with the panties as he read.

Frank.

I don't know how to talk about this. Don't know how to confront you. Don't know what you think you're doing. You're a coward, and so am I, I suppose. You're unkind. I don't know when you'll read this. When you'll finally take these, ruin them. Cover them in your cum. What, you think you're the only one who can sneak into a room? 

His heart sank. He kept reading. Kept stroking. He didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

Thank you for the gifts. These were meant to be a gift to you. I got them in a futile hope that you'd see me as a woman if I wore them. I had a plan to wear them under a skirt and go up the stairs in front of you. I never did. Like I said, Coward. 

You're mean. I don't know how you can stomach not letting me see them freshly ruined. Don't know how you can waste cum claiming my underwear when you could spend it claiming me.

He erupted. Hot, white bursts of jizz covered the red silk. Almost done.

He pulled out his phone. Took a picture. Saved it to a hidden album. Swoosh. He texted his Mel a link.

He walked through their doors. Closed hers after entering. And threw caution into the wind. He pinched her nose shut. She opened her mouth. He shoved the soiled pair into it, and waited.

[stickwithme1]

@kingdonmicrofic @kingdonmacrofic day 12: gold. 808/340. no content warnings. canon divergence: frank langdon as teen dad, so penny and tanner are teens and he's thirty three. (definitely not the first to think about this idea but i can't remember who had a post about teen dad!frank so please tell me if it was you!)

“Dad, stay right there the light is hitting you perfectly.” Penny calls out, reaching for her phone to take pictures of her dad in the orange hue of the sunset. Of course, when she calls out for him, he immediately turns around and ruins the natural pose he’d been in.

“What was that Pen?” He says and starts walking towards her, destroying her shot.

“No, go back!” Penny says, pushing at him to return to where he’d been. But the moment was lost and her father’s awkward relationship with the camera immediately set in as he faced forward and gave a random thumbs up.

Clearly sensing her frustration, he tries to divert. “Penny Lane, let me take some of you and your brother, for your mom. I know your gold hour is probably going to end soon.”

“Golden hour.” She pouts and he just chuckles.

It’s not a big deal, she tried to comfort herself as Tanner, same as their father, struggles terribly in front of a camera.

Ever since her dad came back from rehab, she felt every moment with him like sand in an hour glass, slowly and inevitably slipping away. Into what? She wasn’t sure.

It didn’t help that since their parents split up, they barely even saw dad anymore. Visits were limited to just the weekends until dad finished his medical residency and even after that it was still “to be determined”.

On days where they visit their mom, she’d heard her aunts make comments of when he relapses, and not if.

Penny’s recent search history covered in pages for the statistics of relapse in drug addicts, the consequences, the PHP page, and how to stay clean.

Her dad was doing well, he had purpose, being a doctor was something that kept him alive. Kept him motivated despite being a teen dad at sixteen and getting surprised with a new kid two years later. Those two things drove him to keep going.

But she also knew that her dad was lonely. His life only consisted of going to work, listening to medical podcasts, and waiting for the weekend so he could see them.

So her mind always jumps to the worst outcome: him being so lonely he relapses, causing him to lose everything at work, she never sees her dad again, he goes to jail and her aunts would laud over her how they’d been right.

“I want one with all three of us.” Penny says and immediately heads towards a young blonde woman passing by who had seen her and removed her headphones “Sorry to interrupt, do you mind taking some pictures of us?”

The woman smiles kindly. “Sure! Not much of a photographer, but I can try.” She smiles, Penny smiles back and hands the woman her phone, jogging back to where her dad and brother await.

Posing with her family, steadying her heart knowing that her dad’s still here, she checks for any spontaneous thumbs up, and smiles for the camera.

“Oh! I like your Fort Pitt shirt.” The woman says, genuinely enthusiastic.

The other part of knowing her dad so well is that she doesn’t even need to see him to feel the smug look on his face “Yeah? ´Well there you go, some people like Fort Pitt.” Dad says and her eyes roll into the back of her head.

“And some people like watching paint dry.” Tanner says between his teeth.

They pose for a few seconds, the golden hue finally fading away and the blonde woman comes near them, giving Penny her cell phone back, to which she immediately starts checking over the photos.

An accidental photo of the ground, oh the light was already gone by then.

“My sister doesn’t like going to Fort Pitt either. She told me she likes our excursions to have “less facts”.”

Tanner making a weird face, her dad mid-sentence, one of her eyes looked too small…

“—looking for a Fort Pitt buddy if you’re ever interested.”

These are out of focus because the light was changing.

“—love that! I’ve just moved here to the city for my residency so I haven’t—"

Why does Dad always have his mouth open? Why does Tanner insist on ruining every picture?

“—way! I’m doing an Emergency Medicine at—”

Did this woman just press her finger on the button and hope for the best?

“—Mel King, by the way.”

Just as she’s about to finish and smile and lie to the woman saying they were all great, she found a perfect one. Right at the beginning, the live photo showing her dad look down at his shirt and smiles back brightly, to the camera as she and Tanner roll their eyes.

“Frank Langdon.” She sees her dad smile to the woman, shaking her hand. She wonders if she missed something.

[langdnmel]

gold, 1,132 words, rated t

tags: outsider POV, parker ellis POV, cheating, scumbag frank langdon

melpreg summer x @kingdonmacrofic (wrote too much and got possessed SORRY!!)

Parker runs into Mel at the park and meets her new baby. Except, her baby really looks like a certain senior resident...

read on ao3!

or here:

It was golden hour at Highland Park when Parker Ellis spotted Mel King on a walk. 

She’d only gotten up an hour before, being semi-nocturnal even on her days off (it was better that way–– rather than being overcome with the fog of changing sleep schedules, and most things worth doing were open late, anyway), and had coffee and a bagel in hand. 

Normally, if she saw a co-worker off the clock, she would look the other way. She didn’t like bringing personal stuff into work. Didn’t need any more friends. She had “regular” friends and “work” friends, and she would never mix the two. But, this was different. This was… investigative.

Because, yeah, Parker also didn’t get involved in on-the-clock bullshit. The nightshift wasn’t like that. No bets, minimal drama, hard work. But. But. The Mel King thing was different. 

The mystery of Mel King had vexed the entire staff of PTMC, day and night alike. 

Mel, awkward, sweet Mel, had, by all accounts, experienced an immaculate conception. 

When she’d first started showing for sure, only noticed by Parker during brief shift hand-offs, no one had said anything. She’d casually asked Santos about it, only to come up totally empty handed. No one knew how it had happened. Rumor had it: Mel had no boyfriend, no exes, and hardly any friends, save for her sister she never stopped talking about, and Dr. Langdon. 

If Dr. Langdon didn’t have a wife and kids, Parker would have just assumed it was some kind of Mindy Kaling/BJ Novak situation. But, he still wore his ring, talked about his wife pretty often, so she had tried to just put it out of mind. If Mel wanted to tell someone, she would.

Now, Mel had been on leave for a month, and no one had seen the baby. The word was, she’d had it at Presby, and sent no pictures. Nothing posted on Facebook or Instagram (reported by Javadi, who was feverish about the whole thing). Even more mysterious. 

But, there Mel was, looking unmistakable with her long, blonde braid, a baby nestled against her chest in a kangaroo-pouch looking carrier. 

“Dr. King!” Parker called, a little bit too eager. She immediately tried to reel it in, to play things off more casual. 

“Oh!” Mel startled, taking out one of her ear buds that Parker hadn’t noticed. She felt kind of like an asshole for interrupting her, but Mel seemed happy to see her, albeit surprised, smiling shyly, “Hi, Dr. Ellis. It’s good to see you!”

“Yeah,” She nodded, looking Mel up and down, “Yeah, super good. How’s the kid? Everything go okay?” 

“As, um, good as it could go,” Mel worried at the baby in her pouch, Parker could see a head of dark hair and craned her neck a bit, wanting to get a look at the baby’s face, “He was nine pounds, so,” 

“Jesus, King,” She almost clapped Mel on the back, but then remembered she didn't like that sort of thing, so she just said, “... You should get a gold medal.”  

Mel laughed nervously, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, “Lot’s of people do it!” 

“They should all get gold medals, then,” Mel was an odd duck, Parker had a hard time knowing how she would react to certain things. During the deposition, Mel had given Parker the impression of being a neurotic rule-follower, but she wasn’t like that all the time. She was a great doctor, a quick thinker, and could sometimes be really funny, even if she didn’t get anyone else’s jokes. Parker had been impressed at how far into her pregnancy she had worked, staying quick on her feet even when it looked like she’d smuggled a basketball into the ED under her scrubs. Mel was just good.

“Getting any sleep?” She asked, as Mel swayed from side to side, seemingly trying to keep the baby from fussing. 

“A bit,” Mel said breathlessly, shifting the baby around, “Sorry, um, I think he’s hungry. He eats non-stop.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Parker said earnestly, “I should let you get back to your walk.” 

“Actually—” Mel flushed apologetically, “Would you mind undoing the back of this before you go?” Mel turned, gesturing to the buckle at the back of her pouch, “It’s really hard to do by myself!” 

Jack-pot, Parker thought. She was going to be the premiere audience of THE mysterious Mel King baby. 

“Of course,” She said, making considerable effort not to sound too eager, “No prob.” 

Mel stood with her back to Parker as she fumbled with the buckle, undoing it with a click. Mel shimmied the strap off of her shoulders and gently nestled the baby into her arms. 

Holy shit. Holy shit. 

If Parker hadn’t made a living out of hearing people explain how they “accidentally fell” on candles that were stuck up their asses, she would not have been able to control her facial expression. Thankfully, she was a pro. 

If her eyes widened for a second, Mel didn’t seem to notice, more focused on getting situated on a bench as Baby Frank Langdon squirmed in her arms. 

It was uncanny. It was like someone had shrunk him down with a magic wand, like a cartoon gag. The same dark hair, blue eyes, and the tiniest dimple Parker had ever seen, right on his tiny chin. 

“He’s… super cute,” Parker managed, giving Mel a watery smile. 

Mel beamed with pride, looking for an instant like some kind of Wikipedia article photo of the perfect mother; halo of hair flashing gold in the sun, her dark circles erased by the perfect lighting, beautiful and happy. 

“I think so, too!” She said, delighted, “He is a very good baby.” 

“I can tell,” Parker appraised, awkwardly putting her hands in her pockets so she had something to do with them. Fucking Langdon, “Uh, what’s his name?” 

Mel fumbled with her shirt, unclipping some kind of special hidden mechanism that freed her right breast and made Parker feel that it was definitely time for her to start walking, “It’s Franklin!” She said with an honest smile, latching little Franklin on for his afternoon snack. 

Parker was glad she was so absorbed in the feeding of her baby, because the mention of his name nearly sent her over the edge. Of course she had an excellent poker face, but goddamn, anyone had their limits. And Franklin was hers. She had the vague feeling that she should look around for a camera, or something. Maybe John Quiñones would climb out of a bush and ask her: “What would you do if you saw your co-worker’s affair baby?” 

Well, what she would do was this: 

“Congratulations, Mel. You look really happy. See you around.” And went on her way.

[kodwrites]

Day 12: Gold

@kingdonmicrofic @kingdonmacrofic | 1240 words | Rated T | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here | Inspired by The Last Five Years "A Miracle Would Happen"- with a twist. This plot bunny refused to be contained to microfic form so here's a macrofic for you! <3

April 6, 2030 (Four months post-wedding)

Mel was plenty used to women flirting with Frank at work.

They flirted with him when he was married to Abby, they flirted with him when he was divorced, and they continued to flirt with him now that he’s married to Mel. The presence, or lack thereof, of either of his wedding bands hadn’t been a deterrent for the women of the Greater Pittsburgh Metropolitan Area.  

It genuinely didn’t bother her. No really, it didn’t. (Mostly true, though it had— briefly— during the time between his divorce and their first date. She'd watched an endless stream of patients flirt with him almost daily and slowly prepared herself for the inevitable, when Frank would date someone else and wouldn’t need Mel anymore. How wrong she’d been.)

Most of the time, Mel didn’t give much thought to her appearance, mostly dressing for comfort and practicality. She spent all day dodging vomit, blood, and any number of other bodily fluids and projectiles—the most dressing up she did for work was adding simple earrings or a pair of fun socks.

However, in the early days of their romantic relationship, Mel worried she wasn’t enough for him. She’d only ever been called ‘cute’, never ‘beautiful’ or ‘gorgeous’. She’d spent her school days ignored by members of the opposite sex, with the exception of a boy asking her out in seventh grade as a prank and his entire friend group making fun of her after.

Mel started silently doubting his attraction to her despite strong evidence to the contrary. She’d kept this to herself though—men don’t like insecure women.

One time, they were on a lunch date at a deli near her apartment. Mel had gotten up for refills while Frank finished his corned beef sandwich, and the most gorgeous woman with a truly impressive set of breasts (Mel had eyes, okay?) gave him a slow once over, smiling and batting her eyes as she walked past him. Though he’d paid her no mind, Mel felt her stomach drop.

That night, during one of their steamy make outs, Frank’s body perfectly blanketing her own, her mind wandered back to those moments as he kissed down her neck. Feeling her tense beneath him, Frank stopped and braced up on his elbows to make sure she was okay. To her horror, Mel sniffled, a single tear escaping her eyelid.

He held her tightly as she let it all out, revealing her deepest insecurities to him—that he’d get bored of her eventually, how women looked at him and didn’t even notice she was there. How he looks like that but she’s just Mel. She even wondered if he considered her a downgrade from Abby in the looks department.

“Oh Mel, honey, no.” He kissed her so softly that it broke her heart a little. “The only woman in that deli I wanted was you. The only woman I want all the time is you. Lately, it’s pretty much all I think about. You’re it for me, Mel.” (He promptly showed her just how much he wanted her.)

(It hadn’t bothered her much after that.)

All that to say, she wasn’t surprised that it continued, heck, even increased, once his new ring took up residence on his finger. She knew her husband was attractive, but she also knew he was incredibly attracted to, and devoted to, her.

However, in a strange twist, something unexpected had started happening.

The first time was a week after they returned from their honeymoon. Mel entered North 2 to sign off on Dr. Campbell- R2’s treatment plan for one Colin McBeath, age 27, tall, fit, and covered in tattoos. Spotting her ring, he’d smirked and said that her husband was a lucky man, but he could probably do it better, if she’d like.

She told Frank about Colin’s shameless flirting as he drove them home after their shift. They both laughed it off and Frank kissed the back of her hand at the next red light. He wasn’t bothered—Mel was a big girl and an excellent doctor who could take care of herself. And if she couldn’t, she knew where to find him or Ahmad at a moment’s notice.

It happened again three shifts later, and this time Frank saw it for himself. This time it wasn’t the patient, but his son. Daniel Parkman, 35, was objectively handsome but in a sweet and nerdy kind of way. (Turns out, sweet he was not.) 

Frank frowned and crossed his arms, but said nothing. He’d only step in if Mel needed him to. Luckily, they were interrupted by transport returning the elder Mr. Parkman to his room after an MRI, providing Mel with an easy escape before she turned the patient over to Shen at shift change.

It happened again the following shift, then again two shifts after that. Once it happened three times in one night, when Mel covered for Abbot in early February. Sometimes Frank saw it, but he mostly just heard about it after the fact.

He’d seen Mel get flirted with here and there, but now it was becoming constant. Last shift, Frank asked her how the heck she’d put up with watching women flirt with him all this time and she simply shrugged and said bluntly, “I know you’re coming home to me, so it’s fine.”

Frank wasn’t confused as to why it was happening—his wife was brilliant, beautiful, and kind. Men should be falling over themselves to flirt with her. He was mostly curious as to why the sudden and noticeable uptick. He got flirted with plenty, ring or no ring.

Wait, that was it. This all started after Mel began wearing her mother’s gold wedding band at work. She usually only wore her engagement ring at home, too nervous about knocking the diamond out of the setting or losing it inside a patient.

It was like adding a ring had made her more attractive, more visible. Like another man finding her desirable and claiming her suddenly made her more valuable in their eyes. It honestly pissed him off a little.

Frank shared his theory and findings with Mel over a quick lunch in the breakroom on their next shift together.

“Frank, would you prefer I don’t wear my wedding band at work? I wouldn’t mind less attention, and I wouldn’t want you to get…” She trails off, biting her lips in an effort to keep her thoughts inside.

Frank raises an eyebrow at her. “What? What were you going to say, Dr. King?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“Tell me, Mel." He turned on that voice, the one he knows gets her going. "Were you going to say you didn’t want me to get jealous?”

She blushed, playfully refusing to meet his gaze.

He chuckled, getting up from his chair and kissing the top of her head on his way to throw out their trash. “Don’t stop wearing your ring unless you want to, sweetheart. If you think it’ll help patients flirt with you less, that’s entirely your decision to make. However,” he pauses, leaning in to whisper in her ear, “I like when you wear it. Shows everyone you’re mine, that it’s me you come home to.”

He straightens up, winking as he heads back out onto the floor, leaving her flustered and winding her up for later.

Frank Langdon wasn’t a jealous man. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do what was needed to make sure Mel kept coming home to him, just as he’d always come home to her.

[kingdonagegap]

surprise, words: 550

day 11 (late), cheating, infidelity, melpreg

@kingdonmicrofic @kingdonmacrofic

It was surprisingly easy to fall in love with Mel.

After the fourth, they were stuck together like glue. Frank always tagged along on her cases, even if they didn’t need an r3 and r4 on them. Mel liked to come find him over the other senior residents when he was free. They ate lunch together in the break room, sitting on the same side of the table. Often, Ellis or Robby would walk in and raise their brows at them, but it never bothered either of them.

Frank could always pass it off as Mel being one of the only ones to support him after he came back, but then she started inviting him over and he would bring her out to dinner after their shared shifts, or bring her tea and a pastry in the mornings.

It all came to a head five months after he came back. He’d never forget the way Mel had dragged him forward, the way she whined into his mouth, and the way she came so prettily for him.

Now, Frank is parked in front of Mel’s apartment, and she’s on his lap, fingers clenching on his scrub top. Her mouth is warm and wet, and she keeps making these little sounds in the back of her throat.

“Baby… Mel, baby,” Frank manages to detach himself from her, “It’s my turn to put the kids to bed tonight, I have to go.”

She whines and kisses him again. He presses his thumb hard at the hinge of her jaw, and pushes his tongue against hers. He pulls away again after a few more minutes.

Mel pouts now, her lower lip sticking out and shaking. He pushes it back. “I’m sorry, I know. I’ll have to figure out something so we can get some real alone time, yeah?”

Mel nods, but she won’t meet his eyes as she crawls off his lap and gathers her things up.

I love you, he wants to say, but he doesn’t think she’d take it all that well right now. Instead he grabs her hand and squeezes it.

The house is eerily still when he gets in.

He doesn’t think too hard about it as he’s taking his shoes off, at least not until he steps into the house and sees Abby. She’s sitting completely straight, fuming, and holding her phone tightly.

“You good?” Frank questions, confused and cautious.

“Do you want to explain what the fuck this is?” 

Frank blinks at the screen. There’s a message from an unknown number, one he recognizes as Mel’s, what the fuck, and it contains only two photos.

The first is one of Frank asleep on her chest, the sheet keeping her modest, but it’s clear what they just got done doing. The second is a positive pregnancy test, what the fuck.

“Abby, I-” He tries, but nothing comes out.

When it’s clear he’s not going to say anything else, she starts screaming. He hasn’t seen her this mad since they were in college. She practically shoves him out the door, with nothing but the clothes he’s wearing.

In the car he dials Mel’s number, but it goes straight to voicemail.

Instead, he gets a text. Doors open it reads, like she hasn’t considered he might stay somewhere else.

(He wasn’t.)

[dad-inside]

Kingdon Macrofic day 11: Suprise (566/186)

@kingdonmacrofic

warnings: frank's parental issues, mentions of fertility issues and stillbirth, cant think of anything else

-----

There were four seats at this table. Four corners. And four reasons for their awkward silence. Each person waiting for someone else to speak first. 

The first and most important thing was this: Becca King was face blind. If she wasn’t, maybe things would have gone differently. 

The second contributing factor was Becca’s refusal to tell Mel about Adam or show her him until Mel had a partner of her own. She had good intentions, for all that it hurt Mel– she didn’t want to rub Mel’s face in it.

The third reason was the 4 months Frank hid his divorce. He couldn’t handle coming back as the divorced loser addict, he needed time to be comfortable being vulnerable with the people who ignored him for the worst ten months of his life. He had also needed time to be comfortable before being vulnerable with Mel, scared of what their friendship could be without the barriers of his marriage. Would she pull back? Be less vulnerable with him? (He hadn’t dared to hope that it would bring them closer together.)

All that together, when Mel and Frank finally sorted things out, after a month of dating Becca was ready to introduce Adam and Mel. Frank would be there for moral support. Even if he wasn’t gone on Mel, even if he wasn’t already sure she was the love of his life, if they were just friends, he’d still want to be there. 

Adam was less a person and more an idea to her, a microcosm of her difficulties balancing being Becca’s caretaker and her sister, her fear of being alone, a manifestation of the wound of discovering her sister lied to her for 6 months. 

Frank had never pried about Adam with Becca, only having one conversation with her about it, talking to her about how if she was unsure, if she felt unsafe, he’d have her back. She’d smiled at him, patted his hand and asked when he’d finally kiss Mel. 

The fourth reason was this– Frank Langdon was a lonely kid. An only child, he’d begged for a sibling, never to be obliged. It was only later, when he had had kids of his own, when he’d gone through med school, that he could contextualize the expression his parents wore whenever he asked. The same face he wore having to deliver news to the bereaved. Fertility issues, he assumed. Stillbirth, he’d found out, after his divorce, after rehab, after a screaming fight with them on the other side of the end table that had claimed his back, his pride and his career. He was supposed to be a twin. 

- - - 

Looking back, Frank regretted not asking for a picture. It was uncanny. Like looking into a mirror, but one that was ambulatory, animate. There were differences, sure, but they were the exceptions that proved the rule. Adam had longer hair– shoulder length, like he’d had it in undergrad; he had a goatee; he looked about an inch and a half taller and 20 pounds lighter. Otherwise, it was like looking at his doppelgänger. 

“Mel, are you seeing this?”

“Yes, Frank,” she whispered back. “Do you have something you want to tell me?”

“I’m just as surprised as you.”

He needed to talk to his parents. If they were lucky, if they had a good explanation, he wouldn’t put his fist through that damn end table.

[smolfangirl]

July 11th: Surprise

For @kingdonmacrofic | words: 746 | picture: Gabrielle Henderson, Unsplash

Six feet away from her locker, Dr. Robby thwarts her perfect escape.

“Heeey, Mel! I was hoping to see you.”

She crosses her arms and freezes every facial muscle into place. She can’t afford a single wrong move. “Oh. Is everything, um, okay?”

“Sure, yeah. I won’t keep you for long, but Admin called. They said you haven’t signed your contract yet. And correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s been ready for two weeks, so...”

The echo of her heartbeat rages in her ears. She presses her lips tighter together – he should know her well enough to misinterpret her silence as cluelessness.

Dr. Robby sighs. “Look, is there any reason for the hold-up? Any concerns I should know about? I’m sure we can work it out.”

You should ask Dr. Langdon about that. If he doesn’t ignore you too.

Mel shakes her head.

He rubs his neck. “Okay, then. I know you’re off tomorrow but just drop by between 9 to 5. Don’t let them shoo you away if they’re on their lunch break, and then I’ll see you next week as an attending.”

In a better world – one she had lived in for rent until a few weeks ago, one she only haunts in her dreams now – she’d jump up and down and then she’d call Frank – Dr. Langdon to celebrate.

Instead, her hands clench in front of her chest as if they could stop fate from ripping what was never hers out of her suffocating grip.

“Goodbye, Dr. Robby,” she says, the only answer that’s not a lie.

“You got it, Mel. Congratulations!” he replies, then claps his hands together and runs off to the nearest disinfectant dispenser.

No one catches her as she empties her locker – Loops, a pair of scrubs, the picture of her and Becca on their last yearly trip (before Adam). Everything else has already moved into her backpack over the last few shifts. Those stolen breaks were the only perk of the gaps in her days that Dr. Langdon’s cold shoulder gave her.

In the hallway, she passes Samira on her way back from the on-call room.

“Good luck for your double,” Mel says with a little wave. And good luck for your future. I’m sorry I won’t get to see it.

“Bye, Mel,” Samira grins back. “Enjoy your weekend!”

The heavy clouds release all their baggage at once as soon as Mel slips into her car. The thousand detonations of the raindrops on her windshield almost convert her to Becca’s unwavering faith in signs and romcom magic.

Almost, because her life only offers this sign: no new text from Frank in five days. Her trembling hands unlock her phone on their third attempt. She scrolls up to the May days of endless conversations and late-night check-ins. He’d texted her things like ‘I heard you did a perfect spinal tab, I’m so proud of you!’ or ‘I know what could cheer you up right now 👀’. She never got an explanation for the latter. It doesn’t matter, though. That version of Frank has moved on long ago, so she’ll move just far enough too.

Her next breath doesn’t reach her lungs as she types out the message she’s been rehearsing for two weeks.

Dear Frank,

I wanted to say this for a while. I have romantic feelings for you. You made it clear that you’re not interested, so I’ll leave you alone. Just know that I wish you the best.

Mel :)

She hits send. Two seconds later, right before she blocks his number, his profile info changes to ‘online’. Her stomach turns. Whatever. She pulls up the last email in her mailbox and calls Ms. Han.

“Hi, this is Mel King. We emailed yesterday. Um, I can come over to sign my contract now. …Great, I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Thank you so much!”

Under the applause of the rain, she opens Google Maps and types in ‘Presby hospital, Pittsburgh’. Driving through the rain won’t be pleasant, but she’ll make it through. She always does.

With one last look at the PTMC ambulance bay, she starts the car. Sure, it’ll be a surprise for Dr. Langdon. But she also stood in that corner with pink cheeks as he said, “You have to do what’s right for you, Mel. What you want is important. If someone doesn’t like that, let them deal with it on their own.”

He should’ve specified that his advice didn’t apply to his needs.

[dad-inside]

Kingdon Macrofic day 10: Feast 505/301

@kingdonmacrofic @kingdonmicrofic Warnings: Ballgag, food play, cunnilingus.

- - -

Of course Frank was good with chopsticks, beyond being a man who relied on his hands, he was a prideful man, one who refused to be inept. Mel, who still had to either use the kiddy chopsticks or a fork, envied him that skill. She wasn’t sure she’d ever hated or appreciated his dexterity with them as much as she did right now. The teasing, light pressure of the thin strips of wood dancing across her nude body.

Mel had always been a picky eater. Frank, however, was a chef, and while there were some lines in the sand, (eggs chief among them) she’d asked him to try to expand her palette. He’d obliged. When they were in the mood to be adventurous, he’d homemake a dish out of her comfort zone, they’d have dinner, then a show.

Today’s dish, Sushi. 

Frank traced the line of her hip bone, along her ribs, between her tits, avoiding every piece of sushi along the way. She whined, being his plate was tricky enough without him deliberately trying to make her spill. Her belly clenched, and the little puddle of soy sauce inside her belly button wavered. Frank took one of the pieces, the one on her left nipple, and popped it into his mouth. 

“Delicious,” he groaned. “God, Mel, angel, I could just eat you up.” Anybody ever tell you not to play with your food?

The joy from his praise was interrupted by a jolt of pain. He’d pinched her nipple with those damn chopsticks. Her core flexed again, and he tutted, taking the other roll from her right nipple, soaking it in the spilled soy sauce. 

“Are you going to be a good girl and stay still for me?” Mel whimpered around the ballgag. It’d be a lot easier if you stopped teasing me! He laughed, taking a slice of ginger from her rib. “Palate cleanser,” he explained.

He moved down, lapping up the soy sauce, before continuing further, to the slice of salmon sashimi nestled in her bush, covering her lips. He shifted around their dining table, moving his face between her thighs. He took a long slow lick, drawing it into his mouth, and kissing her lips before drawing back. Those damn chopsticks danced across her inner thighs, before Frank pinched her again, this time on her clit. Her whimper had a different tenor this time, strained, ragged. She was so close, please, Frank, just don’t–

“How do we say stop?” His voice, low and dangerous; his lips so close to her cunt that he kissed her as he spoke, teasing her even as he checked in. She rapped her knuckles twice against the corner of the table, an answer, a request. Don’t you fucking dare stop. He dove in, smiling and laughing, and lapping her up. Which feast did he enjoy more? She wondered.

She was beginning to discover a love for Sushi. He’d be so smug, damn him. (Who was Mel kidding, she liked it when he got cocky and smug.)

[paperclips37]

Day 10: Feast. @kingdonmacrofic

Inspired by the infamous Patrick Ball stare. Expansion of the Day 10 microfic.

Explicit. So very very explicit.

------------

Mel could sometimes be overly literal. She knew that. Understood that. It had led to some awkward moments, quite a few awkward moments. Like the time a patient asked if she’d check the swelling in his pants and she’d asked some very invasive questions.

Santos had given her the slow clap.

(Apparently it was the correct approach.)

The dress was definitely new. Mini skirt. Black lack. Low cut with corseting. She looked good. Great even. Samira had insisted on her having her hair down in loose curls. It was all a big change. But not scary. Except for the increased attention. Despite her literal approach to life Mel fully understood when people were hitting on her. Multiple people had approached her. Even the likes of Ellis. Which was flattering. But there was one person who hadn’t.

Frank.

He was staring.

A lot.

Even more than Trinity said he usually did.

It wasn’t a stare she’d ever seen on him before. Not bad. In fact it had her heart rate rapidly elevate. Her skin warming. Not the usual smile or sweet look. It was intense. Eyes tracking her, everyone talking to her. His mouth a little slack but his jaw was tight.

She needed air. The August heat was getting to her.

He looked like he wanted to devour her.

A phrase that Mel never really understood. Not until now.

Because Frank Langdon was definitely looking at her like he wanted to eat her alive.

Ring or no ring she’d let him.

Whether or not his beautiful red haired wife was on his arm.

Mel leaned back against the cool wall. Taking deep steadying breaths. It wasn’t working. Her skin flushed darker, her chest heaving her tits were threatening to fall out of her dress. And her underwear was utterly ruined.

A deep seated hunger filled her. Mel pressed one hand against her chest, not cupping her tit like she wanted. She was outside. Anyone could come out. The other digging into her thigh. Probably leaving bruises in their wake.

‘Mel.’

Oh god.

This wasn’t happening. Frank wasn’t outside with her. Not letting his eyes drifted down her body. That look on his face even darker as he stepped into the shadowy balcony. Closer to her. Mel pushed back against the wall. As though it would do anything. ‘H-hi.’

Why had she chosen to hide herself in one of the insets? Completely hidden from view. Almost like they were alone. But obviously not really. Mel could hear the music and the laughter. Muffled but she could pick out familiar voices.

‘What are you doing?’ His eyes burned into her. She shook her head mutely. His left hand landed on the wall next to her head. Gold glittered faintly in the dim light. Mel swallowed heavily as she stared at his arm. Seemed safer than his face. Face with the now seemingly permanent scruff. The scruff that had been haunting her dreams. But his arm was no safer. She mapped the prominent veins along his forearm. Her jaw tightened. Shocked at the sudden urge to clamp down on his bicep with her teeth. Leave indelible proof that could be confused with no one else. ‘What are you thinking?’

Instead of his arm she bit down on her lip. Shaking her head again. His eyes, blue nearly obliterated by his pupils watched her. ‘Mel?’

‘Nothing I should be thinking.’

‘About...’

She ducked her head. But Frank in a flash had his hand around her neck. Fingers tilting her head up. He leaned in completely. His body pressing into hers. ‘About what Mel?’

The lace of her dress shifted. Mel could feel her tits start to tip out of the dress. Her legs were kicked apart and Frank firmly had his leg in between hers. ‘Doctor King. I asked you a question.’

‘Ah!’ There was no hiding her reaction. His leg pressing up against her absolutely drenched underwear. Or the full body shudder as he ground up against her clit. ‘Either you answer me or I walk away.’ His voice was so calm, so self assured. The attitude of the cocky doctor she met that first day. Mel couldn’t think straight. Words garbled in her throat before she could get them out.

The cooling air felt ice cold against her bare skin. Yes her tits completely exposed. Frank acted like he didn’t even notice. The look on his face so casual and unbothered. Glancing at her only briefly. ‘No no no please don’t.’ She grabbed at his arm. Her nails digging into the muscle she so desperately wanted to bite down on.

‘Then answer the question. Be the good student. My resident.’

‘You.’ Mel ordinarily would have felt pathetic with how quickly she answered him. How much she wanted to please him. Needed to make him happy. For him to tell her how good she was-

His lips crashed into hers. Barely giving her time to breath as he kissed her. Smothering her gasps and moans. Leg back up against her cunt. Making her grind down against him. His hands were everywhere. Her hair, her tits, her thighs. No gentleness. Mel was going to have to find another exit. She could feel the bruises already blooming.

She didn’t want to. Mel wanted to walk back into that room. Let everyone see. What he’d done. What she wanted him to do to her. Wife be damned.

Mel was trying to give as good as she was getting. But Frank seemed uniquely skilled in knocking her off centre. His hair seemed to be the best place for her hands. Luckily he seemed to enjoy her abusing his hair. Not enough as he seemed to be able to keep his groans down. Mel’s entire body was on fire as she ground down on his leg. Sparks the likes she had never felt racing through her entire nervous system.

She felt so fucking empty. Clenching around nothing. ‘Nuh uh.’ Frank slammed her arm on the wall next to her head. Apparently she’d been reaching under her dress in an attempt to fill that hollow feeling. Her whimper was pathetic as he nipped at her ear. ‘You won’t be needing that.’

Dark promise. Mel idly wondered if Abby was curious as to where her husband was. Especially as Frank started biting his way down her body. Ever mole would be black and blue in a few hours. As he started on her tits, Mel could feel her orgasm start to roll through. ‘Fr-frank.’ She was trying to be quiet. Failing miserably. She couldn’t help it. Her entire body was an inferno. His teeth biting into her skin. Around her nipple.

Her blood thundered in her ear. Frank clamped a hand over her mouth, cutting her scream off just in time. She sagged against the wall, shocks spark over her skin. Frank sunk to his knees. Mel stared down at him. He looked so smug. She’d never cum before from just friction and someone playing with her tits. Never mind so fucking hard. But judging from the dark blue of his eyes. The only thing she could see clearly were those eyes.

His hands started stroking up and down her legs. Inching higher and higher. Silent question on his face. She nodded quickly. ‘Please.’

His face twisted into a dark smirk. Pausing. His hand huge against her thighs. ‘Please Doctor Langdon.’ He yanked at her underwear. Mel gasped as she felt the fabric tear away from her skin. Literally. She half wondered how no one had heard them yet. The ripping felt like a ripple of thunder.

‘Of course Doctor King. But I think we need to ensure you don’t make any noise.’ With little preamble he shoved the tattered remains of her underwear in her mouth. ‘God I should record this. You look... beautiful.’ Mel bit down on her underwear. Unused to the tangy taste of herself. She could feel the drool gathering. Desperate. She needed anything he’d give her. Frank threw her left leg over her shoulder.

Yes Frank Langdon wanted her. Eat her alive. Like he’d been fasting for months and she was an entire fucking buffet. How else could she explain the voracity with which he started to eat her out. One hand firmly landing on her right tit. The underwear was doing its job as a makeshift gag. Her moans and groans. As his tongue flicked against her clit. Like always he got her brain to complete turn off. He was absolutely right. Her fingers would have been disappointing at best. His were much more adept at filling her up. Not exactly what she needed but it would do.

For now.

Mel bucked and ground against his face. Partly because she knew that Frank loved it when she did. Used him as her personal fuck toy. His words not hers. But most because she couldn’t stop herself. A dark voice wanted her to rip out her tattered underwear. Let them all hear her. Abby Langdon wasn’t letting her husband anywhere near him. But Frank wasn’t Abby’s any more. He was hers. The man on his knees. Watching her with that dark hungry look on his face. The look he had when she was dressed up.

Being hit on.

Or just simply being herself.

It was hers. Mel Kings. And no one could touch that. Her second orgasm didn’t ripple through her as crash down on her. Her vision blacked out. Her body completely senseless to anything else other than the euphoria setting off fireworks in her brain. Frank coaxed her through it. Keeping her from falling down on him, still lapping at her cunt. Like he was licking at an ice cream cone.

He stood up as her legs slowly turned back to bone and flesh. Unsteady though they may be. Brushing her messy hair back from her face. Gently presses soft, sweet and very wet kiss to her neck and face. Massaging her jaw open and ungagging her. With a cheeky grin he sucked the gusset of the underwear into this mouth. Keeping her quiet with a dripping wet finger to her lips.

Unable to stop herself she nibbled and sucked at the offering digit like it was her own ice cream. Finally he was the one having to use her gag. To stop the filth he was so good at. Her free hand quickly cupped him through his pants. But faster than she wanted he ripped her hand away.

‘Not here.’

‘But-’

‘No.’ Mel pouted at him. Look at him over her glasses in the way she knew would normal break him apart. But Doctor Langdon was standing firm. ‘I said no Doctor King.’ She opened her mouth to protest.

Instead the hand with the wedding band clamped over her mouth. Stopping any protest dead. The other hand simultaneously smacking up against her cunt. ‘I said no. Don’t be such a little brat.’

This was the Doctor Langdon she didn’t get to see all that often. The one that he tried to keep such control of. The darker, angrier side of himself. Who wanted control. She whimpered against his hand. Desperate to obey. ‘Now if you behave yourself and do exactly what I say then you’ll get what you want. Are you going to be a good girl for me Doctor King?’ Her nod started before he’d finished the sentence.

Doctor Langdon pressed her into the wall again. Hands still covering her mouth and cunt. His breath hot against her ear. ‘You are going to go home. Do not let a single person see you.’ He hummed. ‘Except maybe Ellis. Go home. Do not shower. Strip, get into bed and fall asleep.’

Mel frowned a little confused. Asleep?

But-

‘I might wake you up. If you’re good.’

Oh. Oh.

‘Do you think you can do that for me sweetheart?’ Again her nod was so quick so fast the world spun with it. He stepped back as she started to scramble. A little hard post two incredibly hard orgasms.

‘Doctor King.’

‘Yes Doctor Langdon. I can do that.’

‘Be sure to send me proof when you are home and ready. Do not touch yourself until I wake you up.’

‘If you wake me up.’

His eyes flashed again. She was really asking for trouble. And Doctor Langdon always had the most inventive punishments for his favourite resident. Though it seemed from the look on his face she was rapidly becoming his most problematic one.

The game had been her idea. But she hadn’t expected this.

‘Careful or I will go home and fuck my wife. And send you proof of it.’

Mel froze. There was no crack in his character. This felt very much like a threat. This was the man that Santos talked about. The doctor who violated all his oaths. Stole, tampered, risked patient lives. Dangerous.

The idea of him going home with Abby. Not running to her bed as soon as Abby was in the main bedroom and him relegated to the guest bedroom. Actually going in and...

‘I see that caught your attention.’ He tilted her head up with the very tips of his fingers. ‘Maybe now you’ll start listening to me. Go. Now.’

The sting of the smack to her ass was enough to get her sprinting through the hotel and out the door. The cab driver staring at her chest in shock. She was absolutely covered in bruises. For once in her life Mel was snippy with him. ‘Get me home now!’

She didn’t want this punishment. The idea of being force to listen or even watch Frank touch Abby-

Her gut twisted. Painfully. But she also clenched down at the thought.

What the fuck?

[langdonandmel]

gift @kingdonmicrofic | (523/446 words) | rated: G | july 9th prompt

*inspired by the above mel season 3 bts pic! :)*

+

"Mel!" She hears, just as she steps towards the exit by the lockers and feels the cold November air hit her skin.

As she turns her head, she sees Frank, also changed to go home, jogging towards her. "Wait there, one second." He says, his flat palm turns towards her in a 'stop' motion as he opens his locker.

"I found it." He smiles, jogging back up to her with a book close to his chest. He steps up to her and turns it around. "Here." He says, reaching out for her hand to place the book in.

She can't believe he even remembered the conversation that promoted this exchange.

Last week, Garcia mentioned her younger cousin had gotten into med school–she was mainly lamenting over the fact that she was the one who offered to buy them their textbooks before she realised how much more expensive textbooks had gotten over the years.

"Jesus, yeah. I remember I felt so bad when my dad spent like 40 bucks on my copy of Gray's Anatomy but he said it was a med school essential, apparently." Frank had said.

That was true; Gray's Anatomy is still considered the classic med school book; it's usually the first one you get. It's still on the first week's reading list in most medical schools across the country.

"I just borrowed it from the library. I had to keep checking it in and out because other people kept requesting it. Lugging that big book around campus was so annoying." Mel had sighed.

Her parents were both gone by then, and she had limited funds when it came to textbooks or anything outside of paying her tuition and keeping Becca fed.

Garcia dropped her jaw. "You don't have your own copy of Gray's Anatomy? That's sacrilege as a doctor, Blondie!" The surgeon had frowned in a serious tone.

Frank had quickly nudged Garcia with a shake of his head and a quiet, disappointed "Yo-yo", and she thankfully let Mel be then.

"Oh, Frank. I can't take this." She says, as he pushes the book into her hands. She already knows he won't take no for an answer.

"Turns out I had two copies anyway. I don't need two, so you should have one." Frank shrugs.

It is a really pretty copy. It has a gorgeous illustration of an anatomical heart on the front that Mel traces her finger across, then looks up to see Frank's eyes gazing at her. He probably tracks the uncertainty in her expression before she can protest again about not keeping it.

"Please, Mel. It's a gift for…everything. For looking out for me these past few months. You've made coming back to work a lot less daunting than it first seemed, so just take this as a token of my appreciation, please." He insists, batting his baby blue eyes up at her.

How can she say no to that?

Mel slowly nods, and a small smile forms on both their faces. Mel holds the heart on the book's cover close to her own heart and knows, undoubtedly, that Frank Langdon has hers.

[dad-inside]

Kingdon Microfic Day 8 Midnight (849/323)

@kingdonmicrofic @kingdonmacrofic Warnings: explicit, stalking (is it really stalking if he's into it?) Somno (Is it really somno if he's pretending to be asleep?) Freak for freak.

@keystothekingdon @lunarfuneral inspired by conversations with the both of you.

-----

Mel King is a particular, meticulous person. She tried not to be, tried to be flexible and easygoing. But sometimes she feels like ripping her skin off when things aren’t just so. Spearmint tea instead of peppermint, polyester in her clothes. An itch she can’t scratch. Her exactness had inspired behavior that she knows would get that judgemental look from her peers– wordless disdain. It was a flaw she knows about, tries to mitigate or hide. Still, this was the furthest she’d gone to satisfy it.

She tries the door. Locked. Of course it was, her target is probably asleep. No matter, she has a key. Gently, she pushed it open. The dog isn’t home tonight, with Abby and the kids, she’d planned carefully, unwilling to leave this to chance.

She’s lucky Frank is a deep sleeper. She’s luckier she knows the route to his bedroom. Tiptoeing her way to it, and the open door (she’d need to share with him articles about fire safety. Better to keep his doors closed at night, who knows what could get in. Fire; Burglars; Her.)

At the bed. Fitful sleeper, was he? The sheets lay on the floor like they’d been thrown. It’s long past midnight, but she has good night vision, and her eyes are adjusted. Her target– her prize, so close. 

He’s in boxers, no t-shirt, though whether that’s habitual or due to the heatwave she didn’t know. She eyes the slit. She has to be extremely careful. Turning on the lamp from his nightstand, she pulled out her phone, leaving the camera ready. Her life-saving hands faced their greatest challenge yet. Gently, moving like a whisper, she unbuttons the front of his boxers. She nudges his cock from its sequestration. 

Soft, cut, almost cute. 5 inches, if she has to guess. She smiles. Committing every detail to her memory, but memory is flawed, not enough. Every time you access it, you alter it, adulterate it. Like a Ship of Theseus. The details would fade. Too unreliable. A memory like this, a visual like this, how frequently she plans to revisit it– she’d have 10 new ships in a week. She needs something permanent. Objective. Hence, readying the camera. Like a wildlife photographer, her first shots were naturalistic. She indulges herself with a full body shot or two, before focusing on the way it sat, drooping downwards and slightly to the right. (The right was his preferred pant leg, she’d noticed, his bulge typically sitting along his right thigh in his scrub pants. She wondered if that was the cause of its orientation.) Like a bomb technician, she adjusts her subject, reveling in the discovery. Catching the underside, the slightly darker skin, the beauty mark halfway down. The friction burn scar near the head. Good. 

Her ministrations start the next step for her. Blood flowing downwards. His cock getting firmer, engorged. 8.5 inches erect. What a prize. Part of her wants to take a picture of herself with her target, like the men on dating apps with fish. No. leave no trace. She was never here. It was fun to examine how the skin stretched, how the features she noted were distorted by the growth. How his veins were suddenly more prominent.

She keeps snapping photos, keeps touching it, unable to stop herself, unsure she’ll ever have enough.  He groans. Shit. Slowly, she puts her phone in her pocket. She gets off of her knees, and steps back into the hallway, shutting the door behind her, holding the handle closed as she does so to prevent the click of the mechanism. 

She departs, heading home to put her information to use. Mel is a particular person, someone who needs to do things the right way. She has no interest in normal dildos. They wouldn’t be able to scratch her itch. They aren’t him.

What she does have, however, is some modeling clay, far too many pictures of her coworker’s cock, some platinum cured body safe silicone ready to be mixed and poured, and enough attention to detail to pick 1347 pieces of gravel out of a man’s leg when said coworker asked her to. Making two dildos out from her mentor's cock is far easier than the expedition to acquire the necessary intel, and it's not like he’d ever know. They aren’t him, but they’re the closest she’ll get. 

- - -

Frank was harder than he perhaps had ever been. What the fuck. Was that a dream? Had he imagined his cute junior resident sneaking into his divorced dad apartment and examining his cock like it was a piece of art? He didn’t know what to believe, the closed door and lit lamp were less convincing than the idea that Mel, sweet Mel, such a good girl, did such a naughty thing. He turned off the lamp, trying to get back to sleep. He promised that he wouldn’t jerk off to her again, not after he gave himself friction burn. The feeling of her soft, small fingers touching his cock, the naughty fantasy was so tempting, though. Worse than any craving.

[lunarfuneral]

@kingdonmacrofic langdonmel, 1.1k words, prompt: gala nsfw, melpreg, infidelity :)

“You liked her touching you?” he asks, biting hard on her thigh. “Feeling my babies inside you?”

She trembles as he licks a line up her leg, lapping up what leaked from her when she felt his eyes on her earlier, watching his wife kindly ask before touching Mel’s stomach, flattening her palm over where their two babies grew. She had no idea. He felt his blood rush downwards when he saw it, shocked at himself for it, but unable to control how hot it made him to see. 

Mel was in green, a long, cap-sleeved silk dress with purple and white flowers on it, that hugged her just enough for you to see—she was pregnant, around sixteen weeks. That only went back to the start of July, right around the week he came back.

Abby saw her right away, standing by herself near the table with the charcuterie boards. “Is that Dr. King?” After their last fight, Abby had suddenly changed, becoming kind and curious about work again, trying to be a better version of herself. He noticed. Now, she even visited, bringing Tanner and Penny to see daddy at work, and she even met Mel, around a month after he came back. She was really making an effort, one Frank found grating, despite how genuinely she seemed to want to try again with him. But she hadn’t been kind about Mel before, while he was out of work. She didn’t like that he’d mention her, or Santos, or Whitaker, or Javadi, or anyone, really. She had an unwillingness to hear about that day at all. But she spat Mel’s name with a particular disdain she didn’t have for the others. Frank’s sure it’s because she could hear the way he said it, but that wasn’t something he could help. 

Frank nodded and caught his breath when he saw the cut of her dress. Her stomach wasn’t all that big just yet, but she was larger than she should be for sixteen weeks, because he’d put two in her—something he was proud of. 

“Yeah, that’s Mel,” he answered, and turned to find the bar at the other end of the room, spotting a few of their coworkers mingling amongst the other gala guests in the crowd. “I’ll get you a drink, your usual?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” She waved him off and walked in the other direction, towards Mel. 

While the bartender made her drink, he watched Abby go up to Mel and discover what they’d been keeping secret. Abby was smiling, holding a hand over her heart while she listened. He didn’t know what Mel told people, but he hoped she just told the truth if other people asked. He wished she was telling the truth right now.

Then, she touched her, and Frank thought he might black out. He had to drag Mel away, already so hard in his pants, unable to think about staying in that ballroom, or even the building, with his wife and their coworkers a second longer. He needed to get his hands on her. Abby was distracted with Dana then, the two of them laughing loudly over their drinks, so he snuck her outside of the Carnegie Music Hall and walked her around to the small loading dock, where the concrete sloped down and they’d be hidden in shadow. 

“Frank,” Mel moans above him now, tugging on his hair. 

He nuzzles into her crotch and inhales, sniffing deep. 

“Mel, baby, you liked me telling you not to wear anything under your dress tonight?”

She bites her lip and looks down at him. She nods her head. 

“Oh, fuck,” he says, immediately pulling her dress up again. He slides his hand up to the swell of her asscheek and smiles when there’s nothing, nothing at all. She’d been nervous about the cut of her underwear, the ones she’d had to start wearing because of the babies, and he’d told her to just go without. He hadn’t thought she’d do it. 

“I can’t believe you actually listened to me,” he says in awe, bunching her dress up more to see her bare cunt, shiny and sticky and all his.

“I like listening to you,” Mel whimpers, struggling to stay upright against the door he’s got her against. It’s not cold out for this time of year, at least not with their hands on each other like this. She’s got goosebumps, though, everywhere.

Frank flattens his tongue and licks her like an animal, so messy and eager. His girl likes listening to him, his perfect, beautiful girl. She loves him more than anyone ever has. She’ll run up to him in front of everyone, grab hold of him and smile, refuse to take her eyes off him. She’ll trust him, she’ll forgive him. She’ll kiss him after work one day, right before he goes home to his wife and kids. She’ll give him her number and answer every time, all the time. She’ll watch him, miss him, think about him, she’ll fucking need him, in ways Abby never has. She’ll let him fuck her, she’ll beg him to come inside. She’ll get wet when his wife touches her belly, full of her husband’s babies. 

She’ll let him eat her out against the side of a building late at night in November, while their coworkers are all inside, maybe putting two and two together now. 

“You’re going to stain your tux,” she warns, his spit and her slick coating his chin, dripping down onto his bowtie, that he felt fucking stupid with anyway. He doesn’t care if she soaks it.

“Come all over my tux, baby, do it,” he says, uncaring. He gives her a finger, because he knows she wants it, having learned so much about her in their time together already. “I’ll say I spilled my drink, just do it.” 

Mel whines, thrusting down onto his face, riding it while he fucks into her.

“No, no,” she whines. She’s nervous. She needs a little push. 

He glances up and sees the round of her belly. God. He presses his other hand to her there, where their babies are, and she shivers.

Pulling himself from her, he says, “Listen to daddy, okay? You’re carrying my babies, honey, you gotta listen to me.” He kisses at her again, again, again. “Your belly’s gonna get so big, every day, oh fuck, honey. It’s not fair that you get to walk around and people know I came in you, but I don’t get the same. Imagine Abby’s face, when she realizes I did this to you, that you’re mine and I’m yours, that we’re going to be a family. Give it to me, I want them all to know when we go back in there, Mel, please, sweetheart.”

Mel’s head hits the door behind her, and she does what she’s told.

[spicyquarius]

day one prompt: confetti pls be nice i havent written fic in 10 years @kingdonmacrofic word count: 1,099

start of something new //

summary: mel joins the pittlings at a karaoke bar

read it on ao3!

The last place Mel wanted to be right now was in a loud, crowded, sweaty bar surrounded by a bunch of drunk people, and yet here she was. Samira had learned of her plans to ring in the new year in her pajamas with takeout food, she insisted that Mel join her, Trinity, Victoria, and Dennis as they went bar hopping. They had ended up at a bar that seemed popular with the local college students, as there was barely room for Mel to take a breath.

Lights were strung up across the ceiling, and the TVs all played the local news broadcast of the “Future of Pittsburgh” ball as it rose higher and higher the closer it got to midnight. In the corner, drunk college students stood on a small stage and sang karaoke very poorly into a microphone that was much too loud for Mel’s liking.

Trinity was walking back from having just sung (something by Chappell Roan that Mel couldn’t really hear the lyrics to) and was walking back when Mel noticed a gleam in her eye. She knew that look. It was the same look she gave Mel at every karaoke night that they went to together. As Trinity sunk into the booth that the group had managed to grab, she grinned.

“You’re up next, Mel,” she said. “I put you down for the mystery song.”

“What? Trin, why would you do that?” Mel groaned.

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! You have a great voice, plus I saw that it was a duet so who knows, you might get to have your rom-com moment and meet someone,” Trinity teased.

Dennis interjected with a helpful, “Or she could be singing alone.”

“Or with someone weird and creepy,” Victoria said.

Mel groaned as she covered her face with her hands.

“Very helpful guys, thank you.” Samira said, turning to Mel. “Trin’s right, it could be fun. If it makes you feel better, it's loud and it's almost midnight, people will be focusing on other things anyway.”

Slowly, Mel pulled her hands away and sighed.

“Fine.”

Immediately, the DJ called her name, and while the others cheered and clapped for her, Mel walked towards the microphone. There was some rustling near the stage, but Mel couldn’t see clearly what was happening. Right she stepped up on the stage, someone was pushed onto the stage with her, nearly knocking her off. As they turned to face her, Mel gasped. She would know those eyes and that grin anywhere.

“Mel! Uh, hi! I didn’t mean to bump you like that, I’m sorry,” Frank apologized as he reached out to stabilize her.

“Dr. Lang– Frank! Hi,” Mel turned towards her friends in disbelief, and could see Trinity and Victoria grasping each other's arms and shaking each other in excitement. Her heart began to race. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t look into the eyes of a man she had a year-long crush on and sing infront of a crowd of people.

“So, are you two ready,” the DJ interrupted Mel’s thoughts, and as she turned back to face Frank, she could hear the music starting to play in the background.

Frank wrinkled his nose as he began to recognize the song.

“High School Musical? Really?” he said to the DJ, who merely shrugged in response. “Do you know the words?” he asked Mel.

“Of course,” Mel nodded, “Becca and I had a phase where this was all we would watch when we were little. I could quote the whole movie if I had to.”

Frank grinned as he turned to the microphone, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He had a pretty good voice if Mel had to be honest. As he sang the beginning of the song, Mel became transfixed. The low light of the bar mixed with the few lights pointed at the stage gave Frank a sort of halo around him that Mel couldn’t look away from. When he turned to her and locked eyes, the rest of the world faded away.

When Mel began to sing, Frank's smile grew impossibly bigger. Mel felt like she was the only person that existed. He had a way of making her feel like that. When they worked side by side in the emergency room, when he offered to drive her home, the few times they had grabbed a coffee after a long shift. He made Mel feel like she mattered. He knew what she needed before she knew, could anticipate every move she made.

It was why she had been harboring a massive crush on him. Her friends had, of course, all figured it out, which is why she assumed that Trinity and Victoria were freaking out. She couldn’t see them now, the crowd had begun to migrate towards where they had been sitting under one of the TVs. It must be close to midnight.

Mel turned back towards Frank as the chorus approached, and as they sang together, the bar began to count down. As the chorus reached its peak, cheering and clapping broke out among the crowd, couples kissed, and friends hugged. A loud pop startled Mel and when she looked up, she noticed confetti raining down from above. It caught the light as it slowly moved down, reflecting back in colors of silver and gold.

Mel locked eyes with Frank and fought back giggles at the confetti that rested on his hair. He reached out to her as he sang and brushed some off of her ponytail, and lingered as he slowly moved his hand back.

When they finished singing, and began to walk back to their respective friend groups, Mel grinned up at Frank.

“Thanks for joining me,” she said. “That was really fun!”

“Thank you, Mel,” Frank said. “That was the best possible way to ring in the new year.”

He leaned down, and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Mel could have died right then and there. She hoped the shock wasn’t too evident on her face, but the warmth she could feel all over likely gave her away.

“Happy new year, Mel,” Frank murmured, “I’ll see you at work.”

Then he turned back towards his friends, and left before she could respond. She stood there, mouth agape, and unsure what to do now that the entire world felt like it had shifted underneath her feet.

“Mel!”

“Mel! I told you you would do great!”

“Mel?”

Mel blinked, and turned towards Samira and the others. Samira stood with a questioning look on her face.

“Are you alright,” Samira asked.

“Yea,” Mel grinned. “Yea, I am.”