My name is Jordana (she/they), 29, the most bisexual person you’ll ever meet. I need Taylor Dearden carnally and kingdon is a ship of a lifetime. Minors DNI please
I think Mel feels a bit misfit in this place, and I think Langdon — I think most people that struggle with addiction or masking of any kind — I think there is a sense of chronic apartness. Like, you just feel sort of fatally unique, or fatally different. And I think that is something that a lot of addicts talk about. And I think that is something that he sees reflected in Mel. (x)
patrick ball + referring to mel and langdon as kindred spirits
Though their relationship is miserable, and the resentment is mutual, there are still some things Frank appreciates about Abby. Her devotion and love for their children for one. But it is her steadfast belief and practice that a restful 8 hours of sleep was non-negotiable for her that Frank appreciates the most. Especially tonight.
Abby slept in their shared bed with the air con set to an optimal 68 degrees, ear plugs in, eye mask on and 10mg of melatonin in her system.
Her sleeping form is gently rocking in tandem with the bed while under the covers she fell asleep sharing with Frank.
The red numbers of the alarm clock read 1:45. Mel King is naked on the edge of Abby’s marital bed with Frank’s cock pounding into her cervix from behind while Abby continues to sleep. After they cum, he snuggles Mel closer and pulls her under the blanket with him and his wife. Franks cum is leaking out of Mel’s pussy onto Abby’s new expensive sheets. He tells Mel to stay, intending that they shower and get ready for their shift together knowing Abby won’t wake until after they left.
Cuz baby, I LOVE, love. I see love everywhere I go. I’m a lover girl. I ship the bus driver with the nice lady up there giggling with him. I ship my coworker with the new physical therapist because I see how she lights up when he is near.
I SHIP PDEARDZ because they exude affection for each other and are so fucking cute and giggly together. They look so good together. Their chemistry is off the charts. I see the way they interact and I see floating hearts around them.
This killed me. I, too want someone to look at me the way Langdon looked at Willow the first time they met - uninterested and unimpressed. Leave me alone.
sex isn't immoral, involving sex in a relationship isn't immoral, sex isn't taboo, kinks aren't and shouldn't be a morality issue, you aren't purer than anyone for perceiving something as strictly platonic
the concept of mel and langdon moving in together less than a month after July 4th because frank calls her one day really late at night because his back has seized up and he really needs help getting up. and that's how she finds out frank is literally living in a car. she gets him to her house and just. literally doesn't let him leave.
I love love love this! I'm a huge fan of them moving in u-haul style anyway, but if you add a bit of peril, it's just extra delicious. Ficlet under the cut!
It hadn't made sense to begin with, when he had called her and asked if she was still at work, and if not, could she please pop by on her way home. He had given her the address to a gym about five minutes from the PTMC by car, with the instruction to call him when she got there.
She didn't need to call him though, the gym was long closed and his car was the only one left in the parking lot after midnight.
"Frank?" His name still felt odd on her tongue, he had been Dr. Langdon for 11 months, the first name was a new development that hadn't quite stuck yet. Mel tried to look into the car, but couldn't see through the foil that was covering the windows from the inside.
"Mel?" The doors unlocked audibly, and she didn't hesitate to pull the passenger side door open. The front seats were empty, stale overly warm air pouring out into the now much more pleasant evening breeze. The passenger seat, and space under the glove compartment were filled with bags and boxes to the point where she couldn't really see into the back.
"Sorry. I-"
"Hold on!" She closed the front door and opened the back instead.
There, on a blow up mattress propped up over the backseat and even more bags and boxes that filled the area between the front and backseats, was Frank, his feet on her side of the car, sweatsoaked from the heat trapped in the car, but pale, face scrunched up in visible discomfort, and Mel was sure only part of it was caused by her sudden arrival.
"I can't get up." He wheezed, sounding defeated.
Mel climbed into the car, carefully placing a knee on the air mattress to get closer, feeling the pulse in his neck, too fast, and his forehead, too hot.
"What happened?"
"I just... " He looked around like he was searching for something. "After the gym, I needed a nap. My back's seized up, I can't. Fuck-" It seemed to hurt to even draw in deep breaths.
"Do you need to get up?"
"My bladder's killing me. Please...." He didn't need to spell it out, the panicked look around the car was enough. Don't let me piss myself here.
"Okay, this might hurt." Mel warned him, climbing back out of the car and grabbing a hold of him his knees to pull him out. Hoisting him upright wasn't too hard. Not letting go when he barely suppressed a yelp of pain was harder. He swayed for a moment before he got a good grip on the roof of the car to help steady himself.
"Sorry, I'm so sorry." It was like a mantra under his breath.
"It's fine, it's all fine." Mel assured him, guiding him a few stumbling steps away from the car and towards a tree that'd have to do, because there was no other destination in sight.
"You got it, are you standing?" She checked with him, earning herself a frantic nod before she even considered letting go of him. Turning away to give him some privacy and tuning out the sound of a desperate stream of urine hitting the dirt, she looked back at the car. The trunk was full too. Boxes, clothes, belongings piled high in every part of the car, to the point where he was barely compliant with visibility requirements.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't know who to call. It shouldn't have been you." He sounded pained, small.
"Are you sleeping in your car?"
"No, I just.. I have a lot of stuff I need to bring to my parents." There was a rustling of fabric and Mel turned to face Frank in the dark, illuminated only by street lamps in the distance now and the neon sign of the gym halfway across the parking lot.
In his t-shirt and shorts, he looked like someone had rung him out of bed in the middle of the night, woken up from a sweat-inducing nightmare, his hair wild, skin damp.
She didn't call his lie. He trusted her enough to call her for help, the last thing she wanted was to make him regret it.
"Let me have a look at your back?"
"It's- you don't have to, it's just the same old thing." The back injury, she knew now, the one that had driven his addiction. It made his steps stiff now, it made all of him tense and tight. She had noticed it a bit over the past few days, how he took a long moment to get up, and an even longer moment to sit down, how he couldn't stand still for a moment without bending or stretching something.
"Do you mind if I still have a look? Just for me?"
The way Frank nodded spoke volumes about just how tired he was.
"Maybe best if you lie down on your front?"
He glanced back at the car like he was weary of letting her see more of it than she already had, but he didn't protest, just slowly, slowly, walked back, damn near collapsing once he had bent down enough to climb into the car. Mel followed him, a hand on his leg so he could feel where she was as she climbed in. There was just about enough space for her to kneel on the air mattress.
"I'll just lift your shirt, okay?"
"Yeah."
The good, or possibly bad thing, depending, was that there was nothing to see. No fresh bruises, no obvious causes for pain. But when Mel moved her fingers over his hips, her hands moving up along his spine in parallel, palpitating the area, she could feel the origin of his pain. His whole back was impossibly tight, muscles corded thick and hard, knots so dense she couldn't imagine what they must be doing to him, though she could see the effect. He only let out small breaths as she made her examination.
Pressing her lips together, she tried to think of something to say, something, anything to suggest. The sight of his stethoscope slung over the headrest of one of the back seats made her heart ache.
"Frank... " She pulled his shirt back down to cover the bare skin on his back, resting her hand on his ribs gently and shifting so she could sit down sideways a little further into the car to look at his face where he had turned it to the side so he could breathe.
"I'm fine now," he lied, like he could already see everything she wanted to say written on her face. "Thank you for coming, I'll be fine in a few minutes, I'll drive home and it'll be fine by tomorrow, I just couldn't get up is all. Thank you, really. I feel so silly, I just... I was worried is all." There was something frantic in his voice, like he was holding back from begging her to believe him, but the reassuring smile he was trying for was sitting uneasy on his face, distorted by the pain of his condition.
She wanted to talk him into talking to her, wanted to tell him what she'd do if he was a patient, if he'd come into the ED, but every possible way to start this conversation felt flat and wrong before she even let a word of it pass her lips.
"Can you come home with me?"
"What?"
"Just... you're in pain, you can barely walk, there's no way I'm letting you try and drive like this." Not that she believed he had anywhere to go, but she could just imagine him trying to convince her that he did, getting behind the wheel and leaving this parking lot, never to return lest she come to check if he parked here again.
"I- I can't..."
"Becca's room is all empty except for the bed. It's a really good mattress. And there's air con, a shower. I was going to make pasta for dinner."
There was an awful play of emotions running across his face, shame, dread, discomfort, hope and more shame. She let her hand drift over his middle back in very small motions. "I learned how to do a really mean deep tissue massage from one of the PTs at the VA." Mel added.
Frank closed his eyes for a moment, pride fighting need.
"I don't think I can get up again," he admitted, finally.
"That's okay, I can drive this car home, you just stay put."
"Mel. I can't ask this of you."
"You didn't ask for anything. Come on, give me your keys." He fumbled around the air mattress for a moment before finding them under his pillow, handing them over.
"Thank you." She climbed out of the car, making sure his legs were stowed safely inside before closing the door. Making sure her own care was locked and grabbing her bag didn't take more than a minute.
It was strange, driving another car, she hadn't been in the driver's seat of another vehicle since she got her licence, but it was easy enough to find her way around after a minute.
The drive wasn't long, but it felt heavy, neither of them really sure what to say.
"Here we are." Mel parked in her usual spot, coming around to help him out again. She had never been happier that her building had an elevator than she was when she was clutching Frank's waist.
He looked so pale by the time they made it into her apartment.
