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@kingdonmicrofic day 20: thunderstorm | wc: 500

we're back to the platonic-not-family-just-friends vacation 'verse! can still be read on its own :)

“Daddydaddydaddydaddy! Wake up!” 

Frank groaned, eyes glued half-shut, limbs aching. Tiny hands were shaking his shoulder, belonging to a nightcrawler with his hair and eyes. 

He didn’t have to be fully awake to know he had definitely not fallen asleep in bed. It wasn’t until he’d shaken off enough sleep to open his eyes, however, that he realized he’d fallen asleep on top of Mel instead, the two of them laid out haphazardly on the couch, his face pressed into the soft, delicate skin of her stomach. 

Consciousness came to him in waves: he remembered putting the kids to bed, just as a thunderstorm rolled in. Heading back downstairs to join Mel for one more movie, which she’d asked for despite having yawned through half of Despicable Me 4. Letting his head fall into her lap midway through The Notebook, letting her run her fingers through his scalp in mind-melting back-and-forths, letting his own nuzzle the crook of her knee. 

Before he could inspect their current position any more closely, Olivia was shaking him again, more vigorously now, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Daddy, I had a scary dream.” 

Frank frowned, sitting up and off of Mel, who was stretching out like a cat. “It’s okay, baby,” he said through a yawn. “It’s not real.”  

Olivia sniffed, clutching her stuffed rabbit close to her chest. “It felt real!” 

Mel shushed her gently, grabbing her by the arms and setting her on the couch between them. She swept the hair covering her face back and wiped the errant tears on her cheeks. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Instead of replying, she dug herself into Mel’s side, hiding her face. 

Sympathy tugged at his chest. This wasn’t his first rodeo—his daughter’s overactive imagination meant nightmares were a common occurrence—but he wondered if her being away from home made it worse. 

“C’mere,” he said, taking her and standing to leave. “I’ll keep you safe. I’m good at fighting monsters, remember?” 

“Wait!” She broke out of his grasp, gripping Mel’s hand. “Mel, too?” 

Frank winced. He was planning to go make himself fit in the kid’s room. Taking Olivia to their bed instead—that is, the one they were sharing—was probably more than Mel had bargained for. The last thing he wanted was to disturb her night, too. 

Still, Olivia was hiccuping from her spot on the couch, and would likely start crying again if they didn’t relent. 

Frank snuck a questioning glance over at Mel, who was already watching him with a gaze that was way too fond for him to feel normal about. In the hazy cover of midnight, it made him think of crazy things—like a world where this easy domesticity was an everyday occurrence and not fodder for a hopeless man’s pathetic fantasies starring his best friend, who he may or may not be in love with. 

“It’s okay with me.” Mel smiled sleepily and stood up, taking her tiny hand. “I’m pretty good at fighting monsters, too.”

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mel’s never been kissed until frank, and he takes full advantage of that. he doesn’t have to worry about adding any finesse or flare because mel looovvvess how he kisses her. he’s able to use as much tongue as he wants, the kind of kisses where her cheeks and chin glisten from saliva and he’s still attached to her by the prettiest string when he pulls away. her glasses always end up a little foggy and crooked, matching the glazed look in her eyes while she pants up at him. he kisses her as sloppy and messy as he can whenever, wherever! he thinks she doesn’t know any better so she lets him <3

meanwhile mel is just happy he’s kissing her!she’ll let him stick his tongue down her throat and spit in her mouth, she loves knowing it’s all for her and that he never kisses his wife like this! she lets him pull her into a on-call room mid shift and get her all messy, she never wipes it off bcoz she likes having him with her throughout the day :)

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yearning langdon 🌼

reference: a pic that oomfie shared with me hehe

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Day Twenty: Thunderstorm

The Pitt, Mel King/Frank Langdon, 499 words, Rated G, High School AU, for @kingdonmicrofic

Movie night at Samira’s house and everyone’s spread out, happily full from the various snacks her parents have plied them with. They’re working their way through the Scream movies, which Mel tolerates at best. She’s huddled in a corner of one of the couches, a good spot to easily hide one’s face in when scared. 

Frank is a comforting weight next to her, her bent leg pressed up against his side. He’s been unusually quiet for the past hour, where earlier he was his usual buoyant self, laughing loudly, nudging her as a heads-up for any jump scares, making sure she had any snack she wanted. Now? Silence. 

In her periphery, Mel can see Garcia periodically glance at Frank, but she makes no comment. 

Mel catalogues the room; the movie’s just about over, so it’s not that. He hasn’t gotten up recently, so it’s probably not something he ate. So what is it? 

Boom! Everyone flinches. Lightning flashes outside. 

“That was the loudest one yet!” Santos laughs gleefully. It’s been thundering consistently, punctuating their evening like jump scares. 

Hmmm. It started getting really bad an hour ago, when Frank got quiet… 

“Are you okay?” She murmurs, hoping she’s modulated her voice enough so he can hear her but no one else can.

“I, uh, don’t like storms,” Frank murmurs, curling in on himself. “I always have nightmares following them. I don’t know why. It’s stupid.” 

“It’s not stupid,” Mel says automatically. “There’s so little we know about the brain and about dreaming. You can’t help it.” 

Mel looks up, makes eye contact with Garcia, who gives her a nod, stands, and says, “I dare you losers to go outside and see who can last the longest!” 

Whitaker races out the door with Santos at his heels. Garcia follows, and Samira winks at Mel she grabs her raincoat and shuts the door behind them all. 

This act of kindness makes Frank feel worse. “This is so embarrassing,” he groans, screwing his eyes shut. 

“It’s not,” Mel says, firmly. What would make him feel better? “Do you… would you like a hug?” Frank is tactile in a way Mel usually isn’t, but she feels comfortable around him. 

He turns big blue eyes on her. “Really? Yeah, um, yes, please.” 

Frank’s entire body relaxes when she embraces him, and she can feel herself doing the same, like it was something they both didn’t know they needed. 

“This is nice,” Mel says, feeling drowsy. She leans back and Frank follows so that he’s half-sprawled over her like the best weighted blanket. They’re still hugging, his face tucked into her shoulder. Blushing, she realizes her legs are splayed and he’s between them, but their height difference makes it so that their pelvises aren’t lined up at all, which is a relief. She’s certainly not ready for that. 

But this? This is perfect. 

“I definitely won’t have nightmares tonight,” Frank sighs happily, nuzzling in closer (Mel fights a shiver). “I’m gonna dream about this instead.” 

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Taylor Dearden and Patrick Ball Televerse Emmy Interview

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The Pitt | 1x14 8:00 PM

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specters of memories

the pitt | kingdon | rated m | 14k

“This isn’t going to work,” he said, quiet and definitive, and Robby’s face went stony. Before he could get going, Frank motioned to Mel, who had been watching the trials with a sharp, focused urgency. “I want to try with her.”

Or, the Pacific Rim AU

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Day Twenty: Sunburn Postcard

The Pitt, Mel King/Frank Langdon, 207 words, Rated G, High School AU, for @kingdonmicrofic

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@kingdonmicrofic day 19: sunburn | wc: 439

When Frank’s therapist recommended he give yoga or pilates a try, in the hopes of finding a healthy outlet for his more troubled emotions via mindfulness and intentional breathing techniques, it had taken all of his effort not to laugh in her face and shout a resounding hell no. 

That would have been unprofessional. He wanted to, but he didn’t. Clearly, therapy was working just fine.

When Mel frowned upon him recounting this story, putting her sad turkey sandwich down on the table and fixing him with a disappointed quirk of her head and telling him she thought it might be a good idea, actually, especially considering his back pain, and that her favorite studio offered free passes for first-time members, he hadn’t hesitated to ask her what day she was available. 

Such was how he found himself in downward dog, sweating like he was in the thick of his withdrawal all over again, legs aching from the stretch at 6 AM on a Wednesday morning. 

“You’re doing great!” Mel whispered between the instructor’s gentle commands, her seamless transition between whatever the hell that plank-like pose was to a low lunge giving him a good idea of how flexible she was, information he dutifully pretended not to store away for later. 

Worse, even, was the glimpse of her back he’d get every so often, her thin workout top riding up with every arm raise. The flush of her cheeks in the middle of class, when the instructor kept moving them from one position to the next before he’d even gotten the previous one right. The bead of sweat that ran from her forehead down to her chin, trickling further down into the space between where her tits were pressed together under her sports bra. The fucking sunburn that drew most of his attention to her chest in the first place, thin lines of pale skin revealing where she’d recently been wearing what seemed to be a strappy bikini. 

He didn’t know what the hell that was about, but he planned to ask after class. Under the guise of reminding her to wear sunscreen, maybe. It was highly unlike her to let herself burn like that. She should avoid doing it again. 

He was going to hell, probably, lusting after his coworker like this. The flimsy wedding band that still sat on his ring finger was proof enough of that. 

They didn’t make rehab for addictions like this, and therapy couldn’t heal him from the self-destructive urge to give into this particular temptation. It looked like yoga only made it worse. 

Hell it was, then. At least he’d go with a good view.

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Taylor Dearden Televerse Festival FYC Press Panel — 8.16.25

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Day Eighteen: Vacation

The Pitt, Mel King/Frank Langdon, 179 words, Rated G, High School AU, for @kingdonmicrofic

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TAYLOR DEARDEN & PATRICK BALL

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day eighteen: vacation

for @kingdonmicrofic | rated: t | word count: 275 | ao3

It was a spur of the moment thing. 

They had a three day weekend off, Ab’s had the kids at her parent’s place and Becca was at some camping trip with her friends from the center. 

He told Abby he was going fishing with some friends, which was fucking stupid because they’ve had their locations shared since undergrad but he was past caring, lost on the concept of spending a long weekend with Mel up at the lake. 

It’s worth it, he thinks, to see her lounging on a beach chair, book cradled against her chest under the shade of the umbrella she pouted at him about getting. She’s in this one piece he can’t wait to get her out of and shorts that are making him crazy because for some reason the way she wears more always gets him fantasizing about her in less. 

She hasn’t taken a vacation in fucking forever, he knows because he asked and the first thing she could recall was when she had caught the flu in tenth grade and missed a week of school.

It’s been his mission since to take her somewhere, anywhere, and he’s just grateful she wasn’t as picky as his current wife was. 

“Frank?” 

“Hm?” 

He lolls his head to the side, mirroring her in their matching beach chairs that he had dug out this morning from the depths of his garage. 

“Can you help me reapply my sunscreen?” 

She doesn’t need him to, she’s not going in the water and she won’t be moving out from under the umbrella but he just smiles, grabbing the bottle from her beach bag.

“Course, baby, c’mere.” 

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drawing for the first time in months, but it feels nice i think! here's some kingdon <3

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The Winter I Defended Frank Langdon With My Life