Royai among other things

@kingdonmicrofic | 498 words | Rated T | Read on ao3 | Previous installments here | CW- morning sickness

July 6, 2031 (14 weeks)

Mel leaned back on her heels, resting her head against the cold porcelain. She focused on her breathing—in through the nose, out through the mouth. The last thing she needed was to wake up Frank. Today was a big day—Mel was determined to enjoy it.

Three days. She’d had three days of bliss—no nausea, no vomiting, no dry-heaving into toilets or trashcans. She thought maybe it was finally over, but alas, no such luck.

It was supposed to be. The morning sickness—anytime sickness, really—was supposed to resolve once she hit the second trimester.

She tried her best to follow the advice, be a good patient.

Eat small meals throughout the day- hard to do when nothing stays down. You’re nauseous when you eat, you’re nauseous after you eat, and most annoyingly, you’re nauseous when you’re hungry and want to eat but you can’t. Not to mention, by this point even the thought of ginger tea or candies restarted the waves in her stomach.

Stay hydrated- she worked in an ER, she didn’t have that much time to pee.

Avoid triggers- again, she worked in an EMERGENCY ROOM.

One good part about working there was her access to IV fluids. Last week, Mel graciously allowed one of Emma’s trainees to practice their phlebotomy skills on her so she’d at least stop feeling so lightheaded.

She knew it was temporary, that it would all be worth it in the end. She willingly entered into the state of pregnancy understanding her sensory issues would be aggravated. Her breasts ached, swollen and tender—she’d already gained a cup size. Her emotions swung wildly without rhyme or reason. Most days, she teetered on the edge of overstimulation, pushing her to the very limit of her self-control.

But there was Frank, loving her, doting on her, praising how good a job she was doing growing their baby. Packing her lunches, making her tea, rubbing her back and feet after a long shift.

When they became friends, Mel needed time to adjust to being taken care of. Before him, no one ever had. Sometimes, she still struggled with it, worried she was too burdensome, too particular, too much. That one day, Frank would wake up and realize she wasn’t worth the effort.

Hyper-independence, her therapist said. A trauma response. A shield against abandonment, disappointment, pain.

Those old feelings and fears resurfaced during the pregnancy. But Mel also knew she was safe, she was loved. Cherished and protected in the home she’d fought to build with the man who gave her everything.

Mel picked herself up off the bathroom floor and crawled back into bed, grateful she still had four hours before her alarm.

The gift bags were waiting on the kitchen counter, the “Big Brother” and “Big Sister” shirts lovingly wrapped inside. She hoped Tanner and Penny would be as excited about the baby as she and Frank are to tell them.

tags: mature

“Down boy,” Yolanda murmured as she squeezed next to him at the bar. “We’re still in public.”

Mel’s never fit in and starting fresh at PTMC for her R2 year. Frank’s slinking back from rehab and desperate to regain his social and professional standing. They decide to fake date. What they didn’t expect was to fall in love along the way.

Mel entered Gloria’s office on December first with her eyes already red from crying. She’d found if she let all her pent up anxiety and stress pour out of her in the mornings, she’d have nothing left as she made it throughout the day. And today needed to be a good one because it was her last chance at salvaging her R2 year and starting fresh at a brand new hospital.

This was her last resort, moving on from the VA, but she’d started dry heaving from stress the moment she stepped foot in the parking lot, so she’d figured it was time to start over fresh.

Frank Langdon entered Gloria’s office after her and sat at the chair opposite hers. She knew who he was from the email CC’d on all her orientation information, subject line: Ad hoc resident training and mid-year placement. She didn’t know much about him but he was already on the website under “resident physicians,” a PGY4. She figured he must’ve had some kind of family emergency that caused him to pause his training.

Summaries

Episode 63 - ‘Ed fights the original homunculus known as 'Father' trying to defeat him in order to get his and Al's body back.’

Prompt: Heels @kingdonmicrofic | 500 words | Rated T | 19/31 | Genderbend/Lesbian Kingdon (in the same universe as Parade, no need to read beforehand but it does help!)

Mel’s not quite sure how she ended up here, pushed up against the door of Frankie’s apartment, two hesitant hands on Frankie’s waist, and her mouth…occupied. 

(If she thought about it really hard, Mel would remember Frankie outrageously flirting with her at the bar, twirling her braid, and inviting her home, but Mel would have to think really, really hard.) 

Frankie’s mouth is soft against hers—Mel’s never kissed a girl before and it’s so much nicer? Frankie’s lips are soft and she seems interested in what Mel likes and doesn’t like, recognizing the little grunts that meant ow and the little groans that meant oh fuck and adjusting accordingly. 

It’s more than her previous boyfriends have ever done. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Frankie murmurs, dragging her mouth from Mel’s and down her neck. 

“Am I thinking?” Mel moans as Frankie drags her teeth against Mel’s pulse point. 

“Loudly.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be, cutie,” Frankie chuckles. “Just tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.” 

“Oh, uh…” Mel trails off as Frankie pulls her shirt lower so she can leave kisses down Mel’s neck to her collarbone and the valley of her breasts. “This is just so nice.” 

Frank laughs, properly this time, taking a step away from Mel and looking her up and down. “You’re adorable.” 

“Oh?”

“Absolutely adorable,” Frankie repeats, tugging on Mel’s shirt and pulling her into her arms. “Where have you been all my life?” 

“Straight?” 

Frankie laughs, even harder this time, and Mel marvels at the sight. She’s so beautiful—so, so hot it’s unreal—and she’s laughing at Mel which just makes Mel feel kinda bubbly. 

Emboldened, Mel gets on her tiptoes and kisses Frankie, but she can’t quite reach and only manages to leave a messy kiss on the corner of her mouth. 

“You’re so tall,” Mel whines, getting on her tiptoes and trying again. Frankie takes pity on her and leans down to kiss her soundly. “How tall are you?” 

“Six foot,” Frankie hums. “Maybe six one.” 

“Oh wow,” Mel breathes. “Even in my heels I don’t think I would be as tall as you.” 

“You’ve got heels, baby?” Frankie asks, her hands roaming across her back, to her butt, and oh, okay—

“Yeah,” Mel huffs, wrapping her legs around Frankie’s waist as she lifts her up. “Just little ones.” 

“I bet you look adorable,” Frankie murmurs, walking them further into the apartment. 

“I, um, I haven’t done this a lot,” Mel admits hesitantly, running her hands through Frankie’s hair. “Or ever, with a woman.” 

Frankie stops. “Do you want—”

“Yes,” Mel nods furiously. “Yes I do, a lot, I just…wanted to warn you.” 

“Warn me,” Frankie chuckles, walking into her bedroom and setting Mel down on the edge of her bed. She tears her shirt off, exposing a mess of tattoos on her torso—fucking hell—and some pretty impressive abs. 

Mel lets out a pathetic squeak, but Frankie just winks. 

In the chaos and uncertainty around us, there is still so much love and hope.

A few weeks ago, a local international student nervously approached me and asked if I could photograph his wedding reception. We barely know each other — so much so that the only real thing he knew about me was that a) I was a graphic designer and b) he had seen me hold a camera. And the only thing I knew about him was that he came from overseas to study engineering in the U.S.

He explained that his friend (and expected photographer) couldn't make the trip. I sympathized and told him I had a similar situation with my wedding, but then he said something that made my stomach churn.

Almost all his family and friends overseas can't make it. So can't the bride's, as she's studying abroad as well. With the warmest smile, he says while he wishes his family could be there to celebrate, he's so lucky to have great friends who are helping them put on a small reception.

I told him I had it covered and I wouldn't accept payment. Photos like this will be invaluable over time, and I wanted to pay it forward as the volunteer photographer at my own wedding did.

The wedding was this weekend. I cried during it.

His fellow engineering students became wedding planners. A church opened its doors free of charge. Families of local students caught wind of the event and handled the food, learning cultural dishes from the bride and groom's home countries. A mom group banded together to make table centerpieces. A recently married couple donated their leftover decorations. There were almost one hundred guests. Most of us didn't know each other.

It was the most beautiful wedding I've ever seen. Not just because the bride and groom were so deeply in love with one another, but because strangers saw an opportunity to be kind. In a community where hate of anything 'foreign' seems to fester, a bunch of people saw two lovebirds separated from their families, stepped in, and said, "how can we celebrate love today?"

T (?) | 1.8k | pre-kingdon, langdon & javadi friendship | discussion of omegaverse

One of the only nice parts of the timing of Frank’s return to the Pitt was that he’d been basically free the entire month of June, which meant he got to actually watch the World Cup for the first time since college. He’d tried to get Tanner and Penny in on it, too, but their interest only lasted until the Netherlands got knocked out. 

(Despite Frank’s attempts to get Tanner to choose a team based on anything substantial, he’d taken one look at the neon orange jerseys and declared them the best team of all time. Frank’s hoping Tanner will move on before the Euros. Langdon complexions aren’t built for orange.)

Being back in the Pitt means that he finally feels like he’s actually doing something helpful, doing something he’s good at, for the first time in months, though, so he barely mourns the fact that he won’t be able to watch games as much anymore. It’s made easier each shift as he finds his rhythm with more and more of his colleagues: self-deprecating jokes about being an old man to Javadi (mixed in with sly allusions to Dr. J), open-ended questions to Whitaker (when he isn’t running around frantically), offers to show Emma pictures of his kids while fending off her offers to babysit.

Luckily, his social media algorithms have all deduced he’s all in on the World Cup, so at the very least he stays up-to-date. He follows along on the will-they/won’t-they reversal of Ballogun’s red card and still gets the best memes, even if he’s a few hours delayed. (The best English language memes, that is. He’s been told the Brazilian memes are the actual best.)

It’s this confluence of factors that leads Frank to seeing a tweet that will haunt him forever. 

(continued below or read on ao3)

・☆・・☆・・☆・・☆・・☆・・☆・・☆・

“Frank, are you sure this isn’t hurting you?” Mel asked, the heels of her feet digging into his back.

“Yes, Mel. I swear it feels good.”

His back had been killing him all day. The grueling 12-hour shifts at the hospital were taking their toll on him, and without the pain killers he used to rely on, he often felt at a loss for any form of pain relief. That was until he read a reddit post about how having someone walk on your sore back can make it feel better.

While this sounded like it would feel amazing, he didn’t have anyone to walk on his back, especially not at this time of night, who else would even be up? That was when it hit him, he actually knew just the person to call.

When Mel’s phone started ringing over the speaker in her car and the screen read Frank, she quickly answered. She wasn’t sure why he would be calling her; their shift just ended fifteen minutes ago.

When he asked her to come over and walk on his back, she was surprised to say the least, but if he was in pain and she might be able to do something about it, she was more than willing to try.

That’s how she ended up in his apartment at 10 o’clock at night, her feet moving along his spine like a tight rope.

“I think I’m too heavy to be doing this.” Mel said concern coating her words.

She moved strategically, trying not to hurt him, trying not to place her full weight on him. But even though she was nervous it seemed to be helping him and that’s all she cared about.

“Mel, you’re not, your perfect for this.” He sputtered out, the air in his lungs leaving shakily. “Honestly, this feels great.”

He was liking it maybe a little too much, Mel’s socked feet on his bare back, pressing further into his muscles. Not only was it relieving some of his back pain, but it was also making him hard.

He wasn’t sure why this was happening. He didn’t know if it was because of the pressure it put on his dick, or the way Mel’s feet danced delicately on top of him, digging in deep when she needed to. Or if it was simply because Mel was the one above him. What it probably was, a combination of everything, mixing together to make the perfect environment for a pair of soiled pants and a lot of embarrassment.

“Should I keep doing it like this?” Mel questioned, her heels moving in circles along his lower back, putting just the right amount of pressure on his hardening length.

“Yeah, just like that, Mel.” He said, a soft whimper falling from his lips.

That night Frank came in his pants for the first time since high school and he wasn’t sorry about it.

///

Day 19: heels Word count: 287

AO3

Mel was taking Frank to meet Becca today. It felt like a big step, but at the same time it felt just right. They had been doing whatever they've been doing for almost a year, since that night when they flirted at the bar and ended up at his empty place.

It was supposed to be a casual hookup. When they met again at work the next day and he turned out to be her attending at the emergency department of the Pitt where she was taking her first year of residency it was supposed to be just a good memory. 

But he'd been relentless in his pursuit for her, with his ill-timed flirting, sparkling blue eyes, and Disney-prince hairstyle. And he wasn't only handsome, but also smart and kind. He seemed to genuinely care about her feelings too; no one asked if she was okay as often as Frank did.

“Hope you are ready to watch Elf every Friday,” she joked at the door of the hospital, fixing up her scarf around her neck before walking out into the biting November cold. 

He laughed, shaking his head to the ground in that way that made his eyes crinkle at the corners -hot- before looking up. 

And then he froze.

Mel heard the telltale sound of high heels knocking against the white floor getting their way. When she turned around a tall beautiful woman was there, a Cheshire smile adorning her angular face. 

“I am so sorry, Mel,” he said, squeezing her arm for a second before greeting someone behind her, “Abby.”