wc. 499/295 (sorry), warnings: smoking, child death but it’s brief and not central to the story
It was a seriously guilty pleasure of Mel’s, the smoking. She hadn’t even told Becca.
It was out of character for her, she knew, poisoning her lungs for a moment of disassociation and a soft buzz.
It started when her father died; when she found a loose cigarette in the pocket of his coat and took her first inhale behind the church after his funeral.
She’d always felt disconnected from her parents, all their time and energy usually spent on her sister. But every summer before her mother got sick, they went to visit family on the east coast where Mel and her father would leave everyone behind for exactly three hours and drive down to the beach. He always had a single cigarette by the water, made her promise not to tell her mother, and gave her a conspiring wink.
For three whole hours, something that was just hers.
So every once in a while after she eats her lunch alone or she looks up after speaking for two minutes to find that the room has emptied, Mel would allow herself one secret cigarette.
One moment of disconnection from her body and a sense of belonging.
♱ ───────── ♱ ───────── ♱
Today had been terrible.
She’d lost a five year old patient: a boy with bright red hair. Trinity had given her a new nickname in front of a patient who’d promptly laughed in her face. Becca had called to cancel their Friday movie night for dinner with Adam’s parents, and she felt a migraine creeping up the back of her skull.
With her back to the hospital, she fiddled with a fresh box and a lighter in her coat pocket, watching the setting sun paint the sky in watercolour.
She was about to give in when a familiar voice made her jump.
“Hey,” she turned quickly to find him bathed in a dark purple glow, leaning against the brick. “You were great in there,” he said, his smile soft.
She hadn’t the faintest idea what he was talking about and it must have shown on her face because he kept going.
“That trauma right before handoff, you caught that bleed before Garcia could. He probably would’ve needed a mass transfusion if not for you,” he told her.
It was rare for someone to seek her out like this, just to compliment her.
“Thank you, Dr. Langdon.” It came out steadier than she thought it would.
“Frank, please.”
“Frank,” she tried it out, the name sweet on her tongue.
Much sweeter than Marlboros, anyway. She took her hand out of her pocket when he returned her wide grin.
“Are you busy? I just found out my wife– ex-wife now I guess, is taking the kids. I could use a burger, if you’re hungry?”
She’d love nothing more, honestly. It’s hard work to keep her face under control.
“I like burgers,” is what she settles on.
There was a family out there for Mel, one just for her, and thank goodness she found him.
Mel mentions her husband a few times in passing to some new med students, and they paint a picture of the man in their heads. Another weird mousey academic. Maybe he’s a historian something. They picture someone who could fit into the cast of the big bang theory, a gawky strange odd ball guy who would match King like a bookend.
She mentions eventually her husband being a doctor as well, there’s something in her tone like she thought they would know that which is… odd? How would they?
Dr King has step kids. Which takes them by surprise. Her husband seems to be a dweeb, and he’s been married before? Huh.
Eventually they see her ring. It’s in a silver chain on her neck. It’s surprisingly pretty. It’s got a fairy like unique setting to it. “My husband got me some rubber ones to try when we first got engaged but I hated the feeling. This is just the best option for me.”
Well that’s sweet of him.
For all she talks about my husband made this last night and oh my husband read that and sorry I was just thinking about this joke my husband made comments, she actually seldom discusses the man in question.
Not beyond doctor, married before, tall.
She gives them little to work with.
So it’s quite the shock when one day Dr Langdon takes her hand after a trauma, and softly asks “Hey, you okay Melly?”, bending down to look in her eyes. And she shakes her head, he mutters that he knows, baby, and pulls her into a hug. He rocks her against his chest and mutters in her ear and kisses her head.
And it startles them, because obviously dr King and dr Langdon are friends but they’re both married it’s-
Oh.
It’s not inappropriate at all. They’re married to eachother.
mels gna be kinda irritated that day she’ll be picking at franks sleeves mad she can’t get at his biceps and elbows she wants to touch his skinnn she’s gna worm her hand into his sleeve and get in there with him to pinch it
@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.”
I think mel could get off on skin to skin contact alone. like her and frank chest to chest with no shirts on and she could make herself cum barely rubbing on his thigh
@kingdonmicrofic
day 15 -> silk (498/498) warnings - dad/daughter relationship, age gap (frank 40, mel 17), implied sexual content, frank langdon: extraordinary gaslighter
“Gosh, that’s the fourth piece of ribbon I’ve found this week. What’s she been up to?”
Abby isn’t exhausted by the discovery, simply curious. There’s a bit of awe in her tone, too, and a strip of pearly pink ribbon with white lace trim dangling from between her fingertips as she examines it in the soft morning light.
Frank hums, peering at her over his thin readers. Between blinks there’s blurs of honey blonde waves, hazel irises swallowed by inky black pupils, keens from whispered praise and miles of pale skin that felt like the finest silk.
It was in the laundry room, she said. Yeah. Makes sense.
“Not sure,” he settles on. “You know she’s crafty, and a bit unorganized.”
“You’re right,” Abby sighs, carelessly tossing the ribbon on the table and shifting the hamper of freshly laundered clothes against her hip. “Maybe I need to get her a little box to store everything in. Or snag a few of those Alex cabinets from Ikea. What do you think?”
Frank swallows down a mouthful of coffee, reminiscing on the taste of strawberry that lingered on his tongue the night before. Supple and sinfully sweet. Now tarnished by the bitterness of Folgers dark roast.
“I think she’d love that,” he agrees, a fond, crooked smile on his lips. Abby beams at that, clearly hoping she’ll finally win their daughter’s favor. “Why don’t I take her this weekend? Make a day of it, and all.”
Abby’s smile falters. “We could all go. The three of us.”
Tongue prodding his cheek, he says, “You’ve got that spa thing, remember? The one I booked months ago as a birthday gift,” her confusion is evident, brows pulling together. “Honey, don’t tell me you forgot.”
“I—I didn’t—” Abby’s knuckles whiten on the plastic laundry hamper’s edge. “I guess I did forget. Gosh, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s quite alright,” he assures. “We’ll do something next weekend, alright? Scout’s honor.”
Her guilt dissipates. “I’d like that,” she nods primly. “I’m going to get these clothes folded and clean up a little. I’ll see you when you’re back from drop-off.”
With that, Abby slips upstairs. Frank instantly clogs his browser history with misspellings of nice expensive spas in PA and spas in PA quick booking. Pleased with his final selection, he settles into his chair, shoulders no longer coiled up to his ears. The lengths at which he has to go for a little bit of time with his damn daughter, jeez.
As if summoned by his influx of conflicting thoughts, Mel comes barreling into the kitchen.
“Daddy! Have you seen my pink ribbon?”
The smile he sports feels like enough to split his face in two. His sweet girl, eyes shining at the sight of him.
“Got it right here, angel,” she plunks right into his lap and he ties back her honey hair, finishing off with a featherlight kiss to the corner of her mouth. “My perfect girl.”
areudirty
snowghoul
vaporwave
romaincrisis
discoholicmusic
