peredhils
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Mel thinks her brother understands her better than anyone else in the world.
—Visiting their aunt's farm for Thanksgiving, Mel and Frank have fun in a cornfield.
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- Part 3 of ice cream verse
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“Mel,” Frank says again, standing still by the door. “I—”
“Did she throw it out? The letter?”
His phone vibrates in his pocket. It had been doing so non-stop since they left the hospital. He reaches inside and silences it, again. He doesn’t have to check—they know it’s Abby.
—microfic prompt fill: apple
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His head lolls towards her and his sunglasses slip down his nose. Traffic thins out on the main road and the parking lot is quiet, save some morning birds. Their coos float in through the car’s open windows. The way he takes her in, all the way up and down, is something she’s seen him do many times. He looks like he’s in the mood for me, she thinks.
—Frank has something he wants Mel to see.
Series
- Part 2 of ice cream verse
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“Wanna get some ice cream?” he asks, not looking at her, just watching for a gap in the cars, hitting the controls and putting both of their windows down, letting the cool morning air in.
“Mom wouldn’t like it,” Mel says, “not this early.”
“Then we won’t tell her.”
—langdonmel if they really were siblings.
Series
- Part 1 of ice cream verse
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“We don’t have swimsuits.”
Neither of them are looking for an out. They’re seeing how far they can go.
“I don’t mind,” she says again. The humid air makes everything feel frozen in time. This is a line.
Langdon smiles. “Good girl,” he says, crossing it.
Recent series
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- Words:
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- Works:
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It’s not something they talk about. It’s a secret language of theirs that doesn’t need to be spoken aloud.
Stolen glances across the ER, marks left on her neck, tits, thighs, and her arms in the shape of his mouth and hands. His wedding band has also started leaving bruises on her skin. Sometimes he pressed down on her skin so roughly, the ring would break skin.
They don’t need the words for it, don’t need verbal rules. It’s theirs, he already knows what she needs by one glance, one look, one touch.
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Mel and Frank have an unconventional affair.
- Language:
- English
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- 7,577
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by peredhils
31 Oct 2025
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She dips her head down, not looking at him directly, “Yes, sir.”
Just like that, Frank hears wedding bells. He’ll have her in a white dress in the church down the hill by week’s end. He leans down to catch her eye.
“No more of that, sweetheart. You oughta call me Daddy now.”
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"If it ever happened," Frank murmured, so soft only she could hear, "you know l'd take care of you, right?"
Her breath hitched, her lips parting just slightly. "What would you do?"
***
"Mel?" Abby repeated him, "Why would she want to do that?"
Something in Frank bristled at that.
"What's that supposed to mean?" -
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"The kitchen cabinet is covered in stains. They aren’t clear from standing, blended into the grain, but on the floor the odd marks and splatters are obvious, little memories ground into the wood.
The door hangs at an odd angle now, half open, only hinged at the bottom. A sticky red-brown wetness stains the outside corner, running over the other marks.
Her heartbeat matches a throbbing deep in her skull, blood sluggishly dripping from her temple. Mel can track its path down her face like a second skin, tight and itchy."
Or
Mel tries to pull herself together after she's home during a burglary and is caught in the crossfire. Frank finds her in the wreckage and makes that his job instead
Bookmarked by peredhils
18 Jul 2025
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This is something cigarettes and alcohol can’t touch. This is better than benzos. Mel is uppers, fucking ecstasy, methamphetamine coursing through his bloodstream.
Frank Langdon trades one addiction for another.