https://archiveofourown.org/users/KH_Rogers
Kay | good vibes only 😎 Please DO NOT repost my work on other platforms, including goodreads. WITH THE EXCEPTION OF TIKTOK IF YOU MAKE ME A TIKTOK EDIT IN GOOD FAITH I'LL GO FERAL. | DO NOT share my work with anyone involved with the Pitt.
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friends-to-lovers, marriage of convenience, slow burn
She pulled the straw of her boba up to her lips, the first sip tasted heavenly, enough to make her forget the nerves that bundled in her stomach. “Mel… will you marry me?” He said softly, his eyes bright in her direction. She spat her boba across the table at him. “What?” She screeched.
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“Abby's, uh–” Frank suddenly didn’t want to make Mel uncomfortable, make her think he was coming onto her. “We’re divorced now,” he said simply, giving up on finding a way to wriggle out of it.
“Yippee!” Becca said. She clapped her hands. “That’s great news.”
“No, that’s not great news. I’m so sorry Frank.”
forever thinking about the fact that perlah alawi also had such a terrible awful fucking shift and managed to smile through most of it. stay her reliable self through most of it. even her emotions over louie didn't take over. she only let herself break on the roof, after the shift was done. perlah alawi I love you so so so much
After a brutal MCI, the Pitt crew stumbled out into the park opposite PTMC. Frank sat, legs splayed, on a bench as the birds started chirping their early morning hello. Mel had fetched him a Sprite from one of the machines while everyone else drank warm beers Abbot produced from his trunk. Samira worked on a half melted tub of ice cream with. Abbot had come straight from the grocery and Frank had plucked the very best bag of chips for him and Mel to share. Organic. Kettle cooked.
“I think I rushed into things with Abby,” Frank said to Mel. He’s treated a family exposed to chemical burns. None of them had made it. “I just barreled into it.”
“It’s understandable,” Mel said as she plucked a chip from the bag.
As Jessie reached over to take one too, Frank swatted him away. “Did you even wash those hands, man?”
Jesse’s eyebrows raised. “Territorial I see,” he said. He held up his palms. “They’re stained.” Orange, from all the betadine.
Mel shook the bag to invite him to take some, but Jesse sighed.
“Nah. Your girlfriend can have it all.”
Mel blinked. “We’re not dating.” She said that a lot. People joked about it sometimes and it set her teeth on edge.
“I’m not ready to date,” Frank said to no one in particular.
“Got it!” Shen said as his makeshift barbecue roared to life. He’d pilfered some metal pans from surgery and gas burners. “Who wants steak?”
“I don’t recommend anyone eat that,” Abbot said. “It’s been sitting there, what, three hours?”
“I watched this wilderness show on Netflix and it’s wildly evolved my stance on food safety,” Shen said as he started charring the outside of Abbot’s $120 filets. “Did you know you have a whole day to eat a raw deer in the wild?”
“I need to be in the wild, awhile,” Frank said, expression glassy, unfocused. “You know I proposed after six months? Isn’t that crazy?”
“Take it slow,” Abbot said as he glanced between Mel and Frank. “You can’t afford to fuck up your next relationship.” He said it pointedly before turning back to Shen. “You think you can manage medium rare?”
++
Frank had been back at PTMH for four months, officially divorced for two when Mel finally plucked up the courage to invite him to an after work hang out.
His bright blue eyes met hers. “It’s a date,” he said, and turned back to his charting.
Mel clammed up. “Oh. I, uh—“ she glanced around. No one seemed to care. “Okay, I guess.” She planned on inviting the others too. But. It would be a date. With Frank. Alone. One on one.
Mel freaked out about it all shift and when they finally clocked out she realized she didn’t even have a proper change of clothes. What a terrible time he’d have.
“Just us?” He asked as they walked over to the pizza place.
“Yeah,” Mel said weakly. She considered holding his hand but he’d thrust them deep into the pockets of his jacket. “Just us.”
Frank paid, which made Mel’s eyes widen. It was a date. But she knew Frank wanted to take things slow, so she didn’t lean over to kiss him or take it personally when he dropped her off at her house without so much as a glance at her mouth.
A date. They’d had a single date. Mel couldn’t even remember the last time that had happened. She’d be willing to wait as long as it took.
Mel stumbled into the kitchen, four-am, half-awake and half-dressed. The strap of a skimpy tank top fell off her shoulders and she wore some kind of bloomer pantaloon, the kind Frank expected a medieval princess pirate might wear: all ruffles, exaggerating the curve of her ass.
"Oh, sorry," she said as she rubbed her eyes. When she opened the canister of coffee and found it empty she sighed. "I'm out, can I have some of yours?"
His, imported and mail-ordered specialty beans he ground in Abby's Christmas present to him last year: a $300 German machine that tore through the beans in a fantastic grunting churn. Those beans. That she'd put in her free-on-the-side-of-the-road Mr. Coffee machine.
"I'll make you some," he said instead. He had a Chemex and the whole setup for pour over. Mel sighed in contentment. He imagined she'd sigh that way around his cock too.
"Nights have gotten my sleep schedule all messed up," she said as she hopped on the counter. "I've given up falling back asleep."
"Oh?"
Her tank top strap dipped dangerously low down the curve of her breast. Any second, it might slip further and a delicious pink nipple might pop out and greet him. Tearing himself away from the bad thoughts Frank busied himself with making the coffee.
"Will this wake Becca?" he asked as his finger hovered over the grind button. Three-hundred years of German engineering went into that machine. It was loud.
Mel waved him off so he pressed the start. "She could sleep through a hurricane." She dangled her feet on the edge. "I used to be the same way back when I had a boyfriend."
Frank turned to her, eying her as she wiggled her feet in boredom. Her weird pantaloons rode up on her calves.
"Well, I'm always available if you need a nightcap," he said conversationally, thinking absolutely nothing of it, but she gasped and he thought maybe he'd offended her.
Kidding, kidding, he meant to say, but the words died in his mouth when she locked eyes with him.
"What about now?" she said. Her legs swung open. The pantaloons covered everything but Frank suddenly sympathized with the Victorian men he'd had to read about in school. He'd do anything to be suffocated by her petticoats.
"Yeah, okay," Frank said, ignoring the coffee beans. He slid up in between her legs, bracing his arms on the counter. "What do you want?"
"Oral sex and then you need to go get me a pan au chocolate from the place down the street because I am not paying a $6.99 delivery fee for a $4 croissant."
"That can be arranged," he said as he leaned in and kissed her.
He'd dreamed about her so long, her soft hair, her plush mouth. Her breath was minty and she sighed into the kiss, pulling him closer.
"Becca's going to want a muffin," she said as she wrapped her legs around his waist. "And then we can have penetrative sex when you get back."
"Baby, I'm on board," he said. He'd buy her the whole bakery. The sweetness of her mouth was nearly enough for him, but the drumbeat of oral sex rattled around in his head so he gathered her up and directed her to the couch. Pulled down her ruffle bottoms and discovered no underwear underneath, just her perfect pussy waiting for him.
Her fingers laced in his hair in anticipation of him touching her and he looked up at her, reverent. Then licked a stripe from her clit to her opening, tasting her.
The smell of coffee was high in the air as he opened her up with his tongue, sucking on her and drinking her in. He'd drown in this girl, he decided. He'd memorize her soft moans and do anything to get more trembling sighs from her. It took hardly anything to make her come, just some focused attention, laving on her clit and rubbing her gently. She was wet for it already, he decided.
She'd probably woken from some dream of him, or a faceless boyfriend. Found her sexiest undergarments with a plan to seduce him. If only she knew, all it took was a word, a gesture, and he'd pounce on her.
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Sweetheart, noun. Definition: 1. a romantic love interest 2. an honorary role at a fraternity for an individual that embodies the organization's values and contributes meaningfully to its on-campus presence.
Congratulations on your recent election to fraternity president of chapter 412. I'm sure you will embody the leadership, sound judgement and true brotherhood as you embark on your term.
One note: given the recent scandal and subsequent news coverage of 639 (charter revoked as of last Thursday), Nationals has decided that going forward, any chapter "Sweetheart" will be an hourly paid position hired at the discretion of the fraternity president. This decision has been made to reflect our heartfelt gratitude that our Sweethearts put into making our organization a success throughout the year.
Having said that, please note the new official guidelines, specifically: 1) absolutely no romantic relationships may occur between a Sweetheart and any member of Phi Chi Mu during the time of her employment. Infractions will result in immediate dismissal of the brother, and-- as we saw with Florida 639, potentially a revocation of the fraternity's charter.
Good luck!
J.S. - Phi Chi Mu National Chairman
+
Frank Langdon posted the job posting in the school paper during the first week of classes. The national scandal rocked what would've been the applicant pool: the girls from Delta Rho who already knew how to throw a great party and negotiate with the bars across the street for $2 shooters.
"Just pick someone you'd never want to sleep with," Shen said, totally unhelpfully. "This isn't the year for a scandal. Zero tolerance, all that."
Frank also had to consider male sweethearts, per fair hiring, so he actually considered a transfer from the state agricultural school who promised he could secure several dairy cows for pranks.
"We could let them loose in Seymuor hall," Whitaker said, eyes bright. "How cool would that be?"
But then Frank remembered: no controversies, no bad headlines.
Mel King arrived for her interview ten minutes early, her hair in a neat braid down her back. She wore a big oversized blue button down fastened all the way up to her collarbone and plain dark jeans. It was so hot that day that she spent the first five minutes of the interview rolling up her sleeves.
"I've got event planning experience for the Bio Department," she said. "I do all the mixers."
The empty, sad events with red punch in a glass bowl and three Domino's cheese pizzas. Frank had only gone to one before bailing.
"And I'm excellent with tutoring. I could help raise the grades of members struggling in certain subjects."
Her pink tongue darted out to lick her lips. Frank followed it with his eyes, focused on her small mouth.
"You're passionate about Greek Life?" Frank asked, because he was pretty sure he'd never seen her outside the Chemistry department, and certainly never with a red solo cup in her hand. Did she even drink?
Mel's hazel eyes shuttered in disappointment for a moment. "I'm---" she let out a deep breath. "I'm working on that. My advisor says I need to be more active in the community. For my med school applications, you know. Academics isn't enough anymore."
Pick someone you don't want to sleep with.
He wouldn't--- he couldn't even picture getting in bed with Mel King. Not with her shirt buttoned all the way up to her chin. What sized breasts did she have? They'd shared some classes together, but he couldn't remember. She wore baggy stuff most of the time. Sweatshirts to her knees.
But her tits would be small, probably, just enough for him to hold in his hand. And she'd let out a squeak, because he bet nobody had ever slept with her before. No, she was from a small town somewhere like him. A good girl. She probably never drank or cussed or did anything but study.
And that's what the fraternity needed, someone wholesome. Not like a slutty sorority girl who'd spread her legs.
I thought I was immune from the post story completion slump, and yet here I am. I'll be digging out some old drabbles and longfic story ideas to see what would make a good next project.
in the meantime - I'll be writing "come and get it" all the way through to the end so I can post and end that story.
"every honor in the highest" still working on, it takes me 3x longer to work and post that versus my other stories.
"first and last" - once I finish "come and get it" I'll come back and write through and finish this one.
Mel sized up the Alphas that headed into town the old fashioned way: subtly, on the job. She worked as a waitress at the silver diner, the first hot food place off the highway. When the newcomers trickled in the week before the mating run, she took extra shifts to catch the travelers.
Most didn't impress her. If an Alpha came this far north, they'd likely struck out at the chases along the Carolinas. Packs didn't send their leaders into the prickly, cold Pennsylvania woods without a good reason. That meant her town got the rejects, the plucky upstarts who couldn't lure an Omega with good breeding.
The chime on the door rang, and Mel's eyes flitted from behind the counter. Two Alphas entered and slid into the booth in the back. The man's beard was salt and pepper, and he wore round horn glasses. The other wouldn't stop staring at Mel. His eyes were so blue and bright that Mel had to physically turn away from him and fiddle with the coffeepot so her heartbeat wouldn't quicken.
"You want one of 'em?" Trinity asked as she hip checked Mel. She eyed the strangers. "Oldie's not to bad looking."
Mel blushed. She poured a cup of coffee and stared at it. No one had ordered it, and her hands shook as she put it down. The younger Alpha's scent carried in the enclosed space: anger/desire.
Trinity's eyes widened. "I didn't mean it like that." She touched Mel's elbow. "You should go introduce yourself."
Mel shook her head. She added cream and sugar to the coffee then picked the mug up too quickly so the hot liquid sloshed over the side. Wincing at the burn, she wiped her wet hand on her apron.
"It's time for my break. You can take this out of my pay." Mel took the mug and headed out the side of the diner, into the crisp autumn air. "The table's yours."
She knelt on the back steps which faced out to the woods. The leaves hadn't yet turned, which meant the pictures of the mating run would look muddy and dark. The mug was too hot to hold so she set it next to her and took several deep breaths.
She just needed to clear the Alpha's scent from her lungs and she'd feel better, more clearheaded.
The crunch of gravel from the parking lot meant more cars pulling in for the lunch rush. As she turned her head to listen, a crackle on her other side snapped her attention back. The Alpha was standing next to the stoop, and she jumped, startled.
"Whoah." She clutched her hand to her chest as she scrambled up, knocking the coffee over, into her shins. The liquid scalded and she yelped as it soaked through her jeans.
"Here, sorry," the Alpha said. "I didn't mean to startle you." His throat bobbed as he swallowed and stood ramrod straight next to her. His scent changed, stress/fear. "I thought-- with the burn... I'm a doctor so..." he was rambling.
Mel swatted at her shins where it radiated pain, as if that would do anything.
"Take, take them off," he said thickly. "You can't have it on your skin. It'll blister."
Shimmying out of her jeans, Mel was thankful her apron covered her lap as she tossed them aside. When she angled her legs, she could see the angry red patch.
Trinity always turned up the coffee pots before rush, because that's what the regulars liked: a thick plume of steam coming off the filled mugs.
A second later, it hit Mel: she was exposed, pantsless, in front of a single Alpha right before the mating run. Her cheeks flushed with humiliation. Trinity would never let her live it down.
"Hey -- hey," he said, raising his hands like she was a wild animal. "I need to get some cold water on that." He gestured to the back door. "Let's... any sink will do."
Mel hauled herself up, ignoring his hand, and slipped back into the kitchen.
The back of the restaurant was near the dishwashing station, so she hopped up on the counter and grabbed the nozzle. The cold spray was a shock, but it felt better.
"Hey! You can't be back here," Jesse said, coming towards them. Then he took in Mel's lower half, red and exposed. "What the hell?"
"She spilled coffee, she's burned," the Alpha said, pulling himself up to his full height. "I'm a doctor."
"It's blistering." Mel pointed. Golden welts dotted her shin, full of shiny pus.
"Keep the water on it." He peered in to examine it and he was so close Mel could smell the cinnamon of his shampoo.
Breathing through her mouth, Mel nodded. "Okay."
The Alpha whistled. "Robby?"
A bell dinged. "New ticket. Louie's at the counter," Trinity said. Her face appeared in the slot of the window. "Mel? You okay?"
"Your coffee's too hot," the Alpha said with a chill in his voice. "Robby?" he called again.
"What's up?" Robby said, pushing past the double doors into the kitchen like he owned the place.
"You can't go back there," Trinity said, trying to stop him.
Robby paid her no mind. He glanced at his companion, and then to Mel. "Frank. Well you certainly know how to make a memorable first impression, don't you?"
+
Mel's wolf form was smaller than most, with a pointed snout and head like a Carolina dog. Her glossy blonde fur made it harder for her to camouflage, so for mating runs in the past she'd taken off for the high hills and ducked out of sight early.
Trinity joined her this year, having recently broken up with her girlfriend the season prior.
Neither were particularly exited at the chance of being caught by an Alpha, but the run was their duty, their instinct.
They'd get an hour head start.
Trinity nudged her. You want to stick together? she seemed to say.
But Mel shook her head, turned her nose up to the wind. She wasn't afraid of the pack of Alphas that would nip at her heels and give a good chase.
Not even the large, shaggy wolf sitting patiently down in the holding pen with bright blue eyes.
He might be fast, but she'd be faster.
He could run all he wanted under the full moon, but she'd never be his.
Mel knew in theory that she was being obsessive, but she didn't think that it was hurting anything. Sure, she had unraveled little pieces of his life he hadn't meant for her to know. But he hadn't hidden them very well. And she wasn't going to do any questionable things with the information. But every new thing she uncovered made him feel that much more real to her.
--
Mel starts cyberstalking her favourite erotic audio performer. Things escalate from there.
(read on AO3!)
warning: rated e + stalker4stalker
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Mel wants to be a mom. Frank offers to be her baby daddy. But when Mel gets a taste of hooking up with Frank, she starts taking birth control to prolong their intimate time together.
It's a reverse baby-trapping.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapter 4 of "every honor in the highest" now posted
Summary:
Grounder Frank Langdon takes a wife.
Or,
After 100 years of isolation, an apocalypse bunker is running out of food. In order to survive, the colony must strike a deal with the survivors on the outside. The solution is an arranged marriage between Mel and Frank, and Mel leaving behind everything she's ever known to join him and his tribe.
