okaylove
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Frank thinks distantly that God is testing him. That he's committed great wrongs and is now condemned to suffer temptation named Melissa King until his poor, useless body turns to dust.
Oh well, Frank had never had much self-preservation anyway. Of all the temptations he'd succumbed to in his life, this one, he thinks, is worth it.
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He looked… awful. His shoulders were held too tightly, his posture rigid in a way that suggested control rather than composure, as though every movement had been carefully measured before it was allowed to exist. He looked so far from the boy she knew before the war.
Hermione found herself studying him, her eyes narrowing slightly.
If he intended to stare her down like this, then he could at least have the decency to approach her. He had never lacked for boldness before.
So she held his gaze.
Unflinching.
For a moment, the connection between them seemed to stretch across the rows of students, building into something tangible and charged. Then, abruptly, Malfoy looked away. She watched as his hands moved, fingers closing around his teacup. He lifted it and drained the contents in a single, swift swallow, the line of his throat tightening with the effort. A flicker of distaste crossed his face, subtle but unmistakable; his mouth tightened, his brow drawing in faintly, as though the tea had turned bitter on his tongue. Hermione frowned.
Draco Malfoy took his tea with milk.
And three sugars. -
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Left alone at Hogwarts over winter break, Hermione and Draco find unexpected warmth in each other’s company in the light of their shared post-war trauma.
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And then Santos says — because of course she does, of course they would, of course it’s her fault — “And Langdon would be awful in bed, of course.” Mel blinks.
She somehow hadn’t expected them to get to Langdon, although she acknowledges it’s quite ridiculous of her to not have seen it coming considering the list of male coworkers they were rapidly striking. It’s just — well, Langdon isn’t exactly just a coworker to her, but also a friend. Someone she sends medical memes to and facetimes and watches bad movies on her couch to decompress, someone who pays for her coffee when she’s not looking and talks her down from the egde of a spiral and has met Becca. He’s — He’s Frank to her, and it’s weird to— talk about him that way. Extremely inappropriate, beyond what HR demands.
Still, Mel thinks she should defend his honor, and notes, “I think you might be letting your biases influence your judgment.”
or mel can't stop thinking about how frank's like in bed, and decides she should really just ask him
Bookmarked by okaylove
13 Jul 2026
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Frank's apartment floods and he has nowhere to go. Mel has a solution.
AKA Frank sleeps on a trundle bed below Mel's day bed.
The companion song for this fic is "II Most Wanted" by Beyoncé and Miley Cyrus
Bookmarked by okaylove
02 Jul 2026
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“Doctor Langdon, I don't think I have feet.”
A shocked laugh escapes his lips and he reaches for her hands, still tangled in her hair. Her braid must be destroyed. “No feet? Well, I think I’m looking at ‘em.”
“And, uh… My hands. Don’t think I have hands anymore. Or a brain. I think I’m a—a jellyfish with a nerve net instead of a brain.”
He holds onto her hands. Instead of going to the chairs beside them, he leads her over to the wall (flicking the lights to dim as he goes), and slowly guides her to sit. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing you’ve got,” he mutters to himself, “Tachycardia. Has anyone ever told you that’s bad for your health?”
If she were in a state to handle a joke she’d have replied, yeah, once or twice.
Frank never promised he'd be serious, even during a panic attack that would have sent Mel to the ER if she wasn't already here. Maybe that's a good thing.
Bookmarked by okaylove
25 Jun 2026
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“Let me fuss.” During this all she has poured out the medication she promised, handing it over for him and pointing to the coke that has found its way back to him. “Take these, and back to bed with you.”
“Doctor’s orders?” he mutters before tipping back the meds.
It makes her laugh just enough that he thinks the migraine is worth it. “Doctors orders,” she confirms with a small smile. “Do you want me to stay?”
Yes, yes, yes. “No, I’m not on my death bed. Go home and get some sleep.”
When a migraine finally gets the better of Frank, he receives help (unwanted) from his favorite person (incredibly wanted).
Bookmarked by okaylove
10 Jun 2026
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It was a miracle that Mel had lasted this long.
Bookmarked by okaylove
08 Jun 2026