Billie

day fourteen: cake, 496 words (and a little nsfw!) @kingdonmicrofic

There’s a cake from his favourite bakery in the break room, and he blushes when Dr. King says that she’s looking forward to working with him during his residency, that she’s glad this isn’t goodbye.

It’s not just that it’s an attending saying all of this, it’s that it’s Dr. King, it’s Mel.

He can’t help the crush he’s had on her since the first day of his ER rotation.

And now that he matched at PTMC for his residency, he doesn’t know how he’s going to make it through the next four years.

He doesn’t eat the slice of cake someone hands to him, stomach in knots, so she makes him take the leftovers at the end of their shift.

As they walk to her car, he lets her ramble about patients and hospital politics and journal articles she’s read like he usually does.

But he doesn’t go around to the passenger side, and it makes her pause.

Then he reaches for her, grabbing at her waist, and gets caught in her orbit. He’s been half hard all day with her attention and praise, and he can’t take it anymore.

Part 2

Exact word count.

Inspired by my own childhood.

I was an evil child.

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

Frank had been in a mood all day. Veering from grumpy to downright mean. Admittedly one patient had been screaming racist abuse at Perlah and Frank had used his size and overall... maleness to get the patient to shut up. But he was moody. She had seen Dr McKay pull him to one side. The eye roll had been visible from clear across the room. Worried.

Loud. Not light of foot. Very little in the way of his usual humour. Just not very Frank. At least the Frank Mel had grown accustomed to. He wasn’t very, gentle, today.

Mel hated herself just a little. Hesitating at the sight of his tense frame out in the ambulance bay. Tapping the box of cigarettes against his leg with no small measure of force. Mel could practically feel the impact against her own leg.

‘I’m sorry for being such a dick today.’ He didn’t turn his head. But he just knew that it was her.

‘We all have bad days.’

Frank chuckled a little hollowly. ‘You’d think I’d be good at quitting shit by now.’ Mel frowned. His angular face scrunched a before he threw the pack in a graceful arch. Making a shot Mel could never hope to dream of.

‘You’re giving up smoking?’ Mel did hate smoking, always had. But she never minded watching Frank smoke. There was something in it that she tried not to think about.

‘Under duress.’ Mel despite herself let out a confused squeak. His laugh warmed. ‘Penny. My four year daughter’s refusing to hug me because “Daddy smells terrible.”’

Mel snorted. Loudly.

‘Hey! You’re supposed to be my friend!!’ Mock affronted. ‘Soon you’ll be teaming up with her. I am fucked.’

If only.

sexually explicit content 🚨😋😋

Mel used to be one of those kids, the annoying ones who would dramatically cough when someone smoking a cigarette passed by, to make them rethink their choices. She didn’t realize until later in life how black and white she saw the world back then, everything fitting neatly into the categories of good or bad.

Frank Langdon, she’d realized, was one of life’s many gray areas. He was smart, empathetic, strong; she watched him excel through the end of his residency, land a job as an attending at PTMC, and that didn’t even come close to the way he loved her. He braided her hair when she was too tired, made sure she took her medicine every morning, and had given her orgasms so mind-melting she couldn’t describe them.

He was also brash, self-doubting, and, since rehab, a smoker. He asked her out a few months after coming back, and when he picked her up for the first time, she struggled with the lingering scent of stale tobacco in his car.

“Sorry. I can quit smoking in here,” he said, rolling down the windows and blasting the AC.

“No, don’t worry,” she said, a daring hand moving to his thigh. “I’ll get used to it.”

The first time he’d kissed her, she tasted the smoke on his tongue, light and sweet. She liked the newness of it, the unfamiliarity. The first time he took her home, her face buried in his sheets, she smelled it, faint and mixed with the clean scent of his detergent, and she let out a moan.

The problem was that now, every cigarette she smelled reminded her of him. A patient came in after smoking three packs in a night, hyperventilating from nicotine overdose, and she zoned out, thinking only of his tongue against hers. When her neighbor smoked his pipe in the morning her stomach would flutter, remembering the fogged windows of his car, the pack of American Spirits that she saw in the center console when she leaned over to suck his cock.

In the ambulance bay one day, after a particularly devastating case, he lit one up while she held onto him, grounding each other until both of their breathing had returned to normal. The smell of the smoke took her brain elsewhere, watching the way it drifted from his perfect lips. She couldn’t help but lean in, kissing sloppily at his jaw when he moved to ash it.

“Woah, slow down,” he said with a smirk.

“I’m sorry,” she whined, “I can’t help it. I think the smell just drive me crazy now because it reminds me of you.”

He laughed and shook his head, taking another long drag as he stared at her.

“You can’t really be telling me that the smell of cigarettes makes you horny.”

She blushed, burying her face into the scrubs on his shoulder.

@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.

“Are you sleeping with Mel?”

He chokes on his drink.

“Jesus, Cassie. What a way to start a conversation.”

He checks the time on his phone, sees they have five minutes until their NA meeting starts.

“Why do you think I'm sleeping with Mel?”

Cassie rolls her eyes

“What, Cass?”

“You have been all over her since that ring left your finger.”

“I have not,” he mutters.

"Every time I see the two of you together – which is pretty much all the time – you have your hand on the small of her back, or are leaning into her side, or tugging on her braid. You’re always in her personal space, which is weird as shit, because Mel flinches away from everyone else. But when you do it, she just stares at you like you hung the moon.”

“She's my friend, Cassie.”

“Okay. Like…a friend with benefits, or?”

He rubs a hand over his face. 

“Do you really think this is an appropriate conversation to have at NA?”

“I'm just saying, where there's smoke, there's usually fire. And there's a lot of smoke with you and Mel.”

“Whatever,” he mumbles, and motions to the front of the room. “The meeting's starting.”

“That's not a denial,” Cassie observes.

“Cassie,” he hisses, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “The meeting.”

Finally, Cassie holds up her hands in surrender. He starts to move his fingers across the phone screen.

Cassie is on to us.

Mel replies almost immediately.

People were bound to figure it out eventually. Are you still coming over after your meeting?

He grins.

There's no place I'd rather be.

“Yeah, you're definitely sleeping together.”

Mel didn't bother arguing with Becca. It had been an excruciating thirty minutes of Becca complaining about being the only one of them with a boyfriend, so by the time she informed Mel that they were going to cast a love spell on Frank Langdon, she just shrugged her shoulders. Whatever.

@kingdonmicrofic day thirteen: smoke - 295 words - recreational drug use (marijuana), college au, title from here

Mel doesn’t know what she’s doing. Generally, but also now, sitting on the floor of Trinity’s dorm room with her knees pulled up to her chest while her friends pass around a joint. Mel has never smoked before. She’s had edibles, and she’s liked those, but never inhaled anything.

When Trinity passes her the joint, she tries to copy what she’s watched the others do. She sucks too hard and fast, her lungs filling past capacity, and coughs hard. Frank, sitting to her right—she had been trying not to think about why he sat by her—thwacks her on the back. Says, “Easy, girl.” The words prickle down Mel’s spine, southbound.

“Chill, Mel-sothelioma,” Trinity chuckles. She turns from Dennis, to Yolanda, to them all. “Get it? ‘Cause she coughed?”

But Mel isn’t paying attention to Trinity and her jokes, because her fingers are brushing against Frank’s as she hands him the joint. He smiles at her, a big but private, smile. Southbound.

“Here, like this,” he says lowly, just for her ears. She watches him take a small drag, hold his breath, and then breathe out a steady cloud. “Try again.”

Mel takes the joint back and tries again. It does go more smoothly, and she passes it back to him.

“I think I like the edibles better,” she says, also speaking lowly, just for him to hear, while the rest of the group debates if mesothelioma primarily affects the lungs or not.

Frank licks his lips. His eyes flick to the rest of the group, then back to her. “Try this, instead,” he says. Before she knows it, he has his hand on her face, coaxing her to open her mouth, so he can blow smoke inside.

smoke, 367 words, rated t

tags: cheating, pregnancy, smoking, scumbag frank langdon

melpreg summer x @kingdonmicrofic

Abby had always thought smoking was a dirty habit.

read on ao3!

or here:

It’s dumb, but Frank’s kinda embarrassed about having asthma. 

He knows it doesn’t actually correlate with being a dweeb—he’s a doctor, thank you—but he’s never shaken off the laughter of other boys when teachers checked that he had his inhaler, their judgment when he huddled in the corner to puff into it.

Frank wouldn’t be Frank if he wasn’t motivated by spite, though, so he joined cross country and got a scholarship and ran three marathons before graduating med school. He qualified for Boston, bitches. 

Abby always wanted a cigarette when she drank. She’d slip out of parties with a sorority sister or three, a coy glance over her shoulder, and he’d play it off, saying he didn’t like the smell. When they learned about Tanner, Frank couldn’t help but feel a little relieved that he was no longer left behind, watching her laugh with her friends through a pane of glass.

When he gets back, he feels like he’s one wrong move from getting kicked out on his ass—except when he steals a minute with Mel. He didn’t hang out in the ambulance bay before, so he never noticed how many smokers go out there until he faced the choice between risking an attack and spending time with her. He starts carrying around his inhaler.

When he sees the seven-year-old boy staring at the shiny new inhaler in his hand like it’s a death sentence, not the lifesaver that it is, he tells him, “It’ll be ok, bud. I was diagnosed with asthma when I was your age, and I’m training for my sixth marathon.”

He digs his own inhaler out with a flourish. The kid blinks up at him with stars in his eyes. 

He joins Mel in the ambulance bay later, ignoring how her smile warms his whole body. When the new PA and Jesse pop outside, a pack of Marlboros in hand, he knows he needs to head back. He’s about to make his excuse when Mel’s voice cuts through the air.

“Hey, could you guys go somewhere else? This whole area is supposed to be smoke-free.”

Jesse nods, an apology quick on his lips, the PA shrugs, and they amble further down the driveway. Mel watches them with a frown.

“I hope that wasn’t rude. It’s just—you shouldn’t have to go inside because of them, right? And it stresses me out to see healthcare workers smoking outside of hospitals, since it sends mixed messages to patients—why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?”

“No,” he says, swallowing. “Thanks. I’ve never had someone, uh, do that for me.”

Mel smiles.

“Of course, Frank. I wish you’d told me earlier. Becca has asthma, too, so I’m used to asking smokers to move.”

“Thanks, Mel.”

After his breakup with pop icon ABBY (one name, like Beyoncé), rock star Frank Langdon goes off the rails. His team pitches one last-ditch solution: a PR relationship with Hollywood’s sweetheart, Mel King, who’s desperate to shed her wholesome image and prove she has an edge.

Day 12: gold 💛 Word count: 370

AO3

“Oh!”

Frank heard Mel's exclamation all the way from the kitchen and couldn't help but smile. 

He was so gone for her that his mind kept losing track of things. Just the sound of her voice from his bedroom made him stop stirring the pasta and wonder if it would be a better idea to turn off the stove and just join her there to make her do that “oh”sound again in a very, very, different context. 

Before he could ruin a whole pot of pasta —which most definitely would annoy Mel out of any sexy activities he was plotting— she was standing in the kitchen. 

He couldn't help but look at her with a smirk. God, he didn't want to be all possessive caveman, but he was, and she never looked better than at home. His shirt hung from her shoulders, showing off a hint of the blue and purple marks he pressed down with his own mouth on the silky-soft skin of her chest. Her tangled hair from all the tossing she made when his mouth licked her pussy relentlessly. The fingers he had sucked just a few hours ago as she rode his dick, holding the golden ring... 

Wait.​

What?

“Frank?” she said, eyes round and eyebrows high on her forehead. Her mouth was still frozen on the “oh” somehow.

Oh, god.

“I can explain.”

“Is it yours?”

“No, baby. I sold it when I got divorced.” He really didn't want to be talking about his divorce now.

“Abby's?”

“Mel,” he said, walking closer. “Why would I have Abby's ring?”

She shrugged. 

“Who is it then?” 

​He gave her a look, a mix of fondness and frustration because, “Who do you think, love of my life?” 

Her eyes grew shiny, and he pulled her in by the waist. He kissed her cheek briefly for comfort.

“How did you find it?”

“I was looking for socks. I promise I wasn't snooping around.”

God help him, he was so in love. “I know, baby.”

His hands cradled her face, thumbs sweeping softly over her rosy cheeks.