↳ she/her. fat femme sub lesbian. multifandom. uni student working on my honors degree in english literature.
most of this blog contains explicit content. you are responsible for the media you consume and interact with. reader discretion is strongly advised.
this blog is multifandom, but i'm actively writing for ellie williams (tlou 2 gameverse) and melissa king (the pitt). check out my ask rules below for more details!
masterlist: all my works including full fics, drabbles, etc.
okay with mel like imagine emotional!r like i mean everytime they have sex she cries (obv the good kind) but it ends up turning mel on sm because she likes that reader is being emotionally vulnerable with her!! -🤓
✉️ mel would loooveeee an emotional gf oh my days the eyes you just opened for me, nonie! would honestly make it so much easier for her to express her own emotions because, yes, let's cry together & cuddle & vent to each other! wowowow genius, thank youuuuu love youuuu <3 enjoy
demure! crybaby!reader, implications of depression & some sad doctor stuff, mentions of Amber & pittfest, dacriphillya (mostly mel just loving you being emotional w her), scissoring, strap usage (r!receiving), mentions of fingering (r!receiving), mentions of oral (mel!receiving), clit play, praise kink!, lowkey possessive!mel wc 1.6k 18+ MEN & MDNI
Sometimes, Mel wondered if you had any emotion left for yourself.
A rare feat, as she had learned and been informed over the years, was to keep in close contact with one's feelings in the medical field. Hospitals were like shower drains that waited for the tears to fall, taking the opportunity to pull them down, down, down until you had nothing left to give. There wasn’t a department that could be spared from it. It was why there was a phone number and email address for a board-sponsored EAP at the end of every weekly update. Why, even with that resource, many figured it was better to just sit and accept that you were never going to feel normal again after seeing so many people torn apart in ways you hadn’t even pictured. Why 45% of doctors didn’t get said therapy, and why it was better to bottle things up and not feel them. Because it was easier.
Mel didn’t want to be that way.
And she worked hard not to become that way. She liked it whenever her co-workers would tell her how insane it was that she still had so much empathy. A strange thing to think, she figured, but she understood why they believed that. It was hard not to let herself fall into despair, but she had learned that letting the emotions course through her–taking a moment to work through them and accept that she was sad or upset or happy or frustrated–let her keep those precious pieces of herself. Learned it from you.
You cried three times that first shift Mel had at the PTMC.
For Amber. When Mel had sought you out, her own eyes teary, after speaking to Amber’s little sister. Right before you went home after the mass casualty.
Mel had thought it looked exhausting.
And she learned about your reputation–sweet resident who was too young and too soft for a place like the ED. Collins thought you weren’t gonna last a week until she took you under her wing. Robby had to tone things back when he gave you feedback out of fear that you would burst into tears if he spoke too harshly. Even Santos put a pause on her usual crudeness when you would bound around her.
Crybaby, was what she nicknamed you.
Mel thought it was cruel.
You just felt things deeply. That was your strength. People focused on when you would cry after a failed procedure, after losing someone who had a family and a life, but it was what made you human. They didn’t focus on how determined you would get when working. How you got so overjoyed with positive results that sometimes you would bounce up and down a little. How you would flare up like an angry cat when someone got too brave with one of your patients. How warm you got when it was just you and Mel.
Mel noticed, though. Mel noticed everything about you.
You cried the first time she had sex with you.
Arms wrapped around her so tightly that Mel thought her struggling to breathe was because of the way you were clinging to her (it wasn’t–your cunt just felt so good it made her forget how to get air in her lungs). Big eyes staring up at her, barely blinking away from her face, as tears rolled down your cheeks as Mel had rolled her clit against your own. Tiny hiccups had escaped your swollen lips, skin warm as your nails dug into her ribs. Felt like you were trying to get to her own heart, with how you spilled yours for her.
Normally, Mel would’ve been worried. Would’ve stopped all movements and put five feet between you before she could make things worse, like she was so good at doing. But things were different with you. She knew how to handle you. Knew what you could get like and, honestly, she would’ve been worried if you didn’t cry.
Because the way you expressed your emotions for others was how you communicated them for yourself.
It was how you showed her how much being intimate with her meant to you, your silent way of saying ‘I love you’ when you were too blissed out to actually get the words free. It was trust handed to Mel that made her feel needed in a way she had never felt before. And she was obsessed.
A small, strangled gasp leaves you when Mel notches the head of the strap against your hole–clenching, needy. Probably still a little sensitive from her fingers, but Mel was nothing if not determined and meticulous, making sure you were going to get that emotional closeness you both craved with as minimal pain as possible. Your cheeks are still flushed from how long you’d spent between her own legs as well. The thought made her own clit throb as she slowly began to push inside of you, eyes stuck on the way your mouth falls open in little whimpers as your eyes flutter. Lashes not thick with tears.
As she bottoms out, Mel leans over you so her front is pressed against yours, nipples brushing as your clit nuzzles against the base of her strap, making your thighs tremble around her hips. Face close enough to yours so she could press her lips right to your cheek.
“Mel,” you breathe after a moment, squirming under her just enough so she can hear how slick you are around her cock. She doesn’t move. It’s not intentional, not meant to be teasing–just her freezing so she can take you in. So near and adhering to her like you were afraid that if you let go of her, she would disappear. Her lips against your face as you whine under her, hips bucking up to at least try and grind your engorged clit on her to get some friction. Some more pleasure to add to the satisfying weight deep inside of your pussy. “Mel–”
The repetition of her name, the slightly whiny tone at the end, makes her snap out of the daze, pulling away enough only to press her forehead against yours.
“Sorry,” she whispers, hands pressed in the comforter on either side of you. “You just– I can’t believe you’re real sometimes.” Her tone is soft, barely above a breath as she finally draws her hips back just enough to have you gasping and trembling again. The slow draw against your walls probably being enough to stimulate those sensitive spots. If it weren’t for the fact that she knew your body so well, Mel would still be able to tell from the way your eyes fill with tears.
“That feels– perfect,” you praise, voice shaky as your hands move to knead at her shoulders, back arching so you can rock up against her hips. Give her some pleasure as well from the friction her pussy gets from fucking you slow and deep. Her favorite way. “Oh my god–”
“Shh, shh, you’re okay,” Mel manages, barely able to get the words out from the heat curling through her. One of her hands slips between your legs, pointer and middle finger moving to press against that bundle of nerves. Give you every little bit of pleasure that your body could handle before those small tears would escape from your eyes. Exactly what she wants. She knows it subconsciously–wants that level of faith that you’ve never failed to give her before. “Can you cry for me?”
A moan is leaving your lips, eyes fluttering shut, and eyebrows pinching together as you buck up against her in a particularly rough thrust that makes Mel’s own movements stutter. It’s the end of her steadiness for the night, the next movement of her hips uneven in rhythm as she tries to focus on angling the strap to focus on those spots that would have you creaming around her.
“People don’t– Ask me to cry,” you whimper, voice thin as you peek your eyes back open, half-lidded. Watery. Mel rubs your clit just slightly. Sees the way it makes your breath hitch, and the next second, it has the first set of tears falling over your waterline. “Usually tells me to stop,” you whine as your arms scramble to encircle her shoulders, mouth pressing up to hers. You’re close, Mel can hear it in your voice.
“I love it,” she whispers, her own brows pinching together as she rolls your clit between her fingers just right. Right enough to have you trembling and sucking her cock into your pussy as you silently let the tears fall. Strangely, it feels therapeutic. “I love you. Anything you want to give to me– I’ll take it.”
You keen quietly, nails dragging over her shoulders harsh enough that Mel knows you’ll want to put lotion over her back once you’re done.
“I’m the one who gets you like this,” she whines, mostly to herself. Too far gone in your body. In the way you make her feel. “S’for me–”
“I love you,” you repeat to her, her words falling on deaf ears. You’re panting softly, continuing to fuck up against her and make tiny sparks of pleasure dance along her spine as she presses her mouth to yours. Nudges your nose with hers. “Y’so good to me, Mel. Fuck me s’good.” Her hips stutter again, brain lighting up at the praise and at the fact that you’re telling her how good she is for you. How good she is at making you cry around her cock. The thought is too much, her fingers dancing over your pussy faster as she practically falls onto you, hips drilling into your cunt in a way that has you squealing. A few warning gasps of her name as you press your palms against her back.
Mel wondered if you had any emotion left for yourself, because you just loved to give it to her.
You cum when Mel turns her head, tongue darting out to clean one of the tears from your skin.
The crazy thing about the Pitt is that there are like five Chekhov’s guns and they are shooting different mirrors and bouncing off them all around that damn hospital and they all are going to hit Robby in the head.
jealous mel drabble for you bc I had to get my thoughts down 🙂↕️ I’ll probably write something longer as well but here’s this for now
“You’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” Mel says too quickly, averting her eyes and crossing her arms. “Why would you think that?”
“Because you’re so close to me that you are nearly an extension of my body and you’ve been staring at that man at the bar all night.”
“I’m not staring.”
“Sorry,” you say, “glaring.”
Mel sighs, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you to her for comfort. She gets clingy when she’s jealous, and you know for sure that she is jealous of the man at the bar who just hit on you a little bit ago.
You like her this way, though you don’t say anything — you like her on top of you, the way her hand on your hip dips a little low, her quiet possessiveness.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Mel asks. Her voice is quiet enough that only you can hear, though no one else would pick up on her words over the music playing through the bar anyway. “This place sucks.”
“Why is that?”
She doesn’t respond right away. She shrugs like a child and crosses her arms. “It just does.”
“Okay,” you say with a small smile, humoring her. “Then where do you want to go?”
“Home.”
“You want me all to yourself?”
“Why shouldn’t I? You are mine.”
You hum in agreement.
Mel faces you fully, her eyes raking over you. She knows you wore everything you have on tonight just for her, even that which she cannot see — and she wants to see, to know what you have on under your clothes, if it’s the dark burgundy set you know she likes especially well. “I want to work that man from the bar out of your mind.”
“How do you plan on doing that?”
Her hands find your waist and she looks around briefly. “I can’t say it here.”
“No one will hear you over the music.”
Mel bites down nervously on her bottom lip before speaking, giving one final glance around and letting her eyes settle on the man at the bar again. Then a new sort of bravery overcomes her and she stands a little taller, thinks of every single thing she wants to do to you when you get home, and leans in.
cw explicit content and misuse of medical utensils (?), please assume the stethoscope stays on the whole time :p even tho newton or someone said it would probably fall off
hey so im high and what if i said fucking sensitive sub mel king n choking her with her own stethoscope
it starts when she gets home from work. she's tired as fuck and is probably full of bodily fluids that aren't her own but she absolutely meltssssss when you pull her in by the stethoscope gently and mumble "hi, dr. king" against her lips. her brows immediately knit together in that pathetic way and she just leans into you, so you test the limits. youre pushing her through the house, lips still on hers, except for when you're tearing off her clothes and slapping her eager hands away from yours. you get her down to her seemingly uncomfortably tight sports bra and her stethoscope and you tell her to take only the bra off bc you know she likes direction. and she loves when you use that voice. she takes it off in 0.00000000009 seconds and immediately you're back on her, shoving her to sit on the bed and crawling on her lap. shes basically purring, her lips are trembling and she swears shes dripping onto the sheets (yes, the sheets, despite the fact that she's wearing panties, pants, there're the blankets, duvets, etc idk......so yeah she's wet). you tug at the stethoscope and pinch her nipples and she yelps! its so fucking cute, you just have to giggle. and you just know her neatly trimmed pussy is crying out for attention (neatly trimmed because if it's too long it's uncomfortable but she hates the really spiky growing back period so she just prefers to keep it neatly trimmed). and so what if i said you ride her face while pinching and flicking at her sensitive nipples after making her take everything off except the stethoscope and show all of her to you. and you can hear her dripping onto the carpet but you don't dare touch her yet because you know that once you start you won't have the resolve to stop. but shes bucking her hips up into the air and just whining into your pussy, practically sobbing for relief. you make her open herself up with her fingers while you go to that one corner of the closet.... and suddenly you're holding a double sided dildo and cooing at the sight of her on her knees, ass up in the air and back arched as she stretches herself out. you call her name and ask her if she's ready. she clenches at your voice saying her name (with her clear identity issues she needs you to show her that you see all of her and see her distinctly in intimate moments) and can literally only moan. she practically shoves her ass back into you, still trying to get relief with her fingers. you swat her hand away and flip her onto her back and lather the toy in her, pushing in gently and shes sooooo wet that you almost lose your hold on it because its just sliding in. its long but you sink it in deep until she yelps and then slide it into yourself. you start grinding against her and the movement paired with the friction of clit against clit is sending her to another realm. her eyes are screwed tightly shut and her glasses slip down her nose with each thrust. she looks like its hurting her, and you would be worried if not for her quiet pleas of please let me cum, i need it, please ohhhhhhh and the outrageous noises your pussies are making together. you know you gotta relieve your girl after a long stressful day....you know she deserves to cum :(((( pretty melissa king, who deserves to cum as many times as she wants whenever she wants. she deserves to cum but you really like playing with her, so with a huff you let your hand creep up to her neck where her stethoscope STILL rests and you tighten your hands around both ends, tugging harder this time and her eyes open a little, just enough to reveal her tears because she just needs it so bad. and with a quick tighten of the stethoscope around her neck her legs are locking you in and her hand flies to cover her mouth. you yank it away and revel in her beautiful noises and feel your own pussy leak. she's practically convulsing and, endearingly, when she cums, she makes almost no noise besides her shuddering lungs. she pants as she comes down from it and every touch begins to feel like sandpaper on her clit. you have mercy on your doctor king because she's just the best girl...
im a "Mel King is a freak TM" truther through and through bc as much as i love the AAA battery jokes (aro, ace, and autistic), i need autistic people to be sexy and sexual beings please.
like imagine finally getting to date her and you're already assuming that she'll be inexperienced or awkward bc she's a bit awkward normally and you, admittedly ignorantly, believe that "people like her" don't really have sex. then you go back to her place and after some kissing you go to her room and then boom. freak zone.
she has toys you didn't know existed. starts asking about kinks and boundaries with a nonchalance you've only seen when she hits her stride at work. you're blown away and just standing there awkwardly bc what??? the fuck??? and so she turns and is like "omg sorry is this too fast?"
anyways you end up sweaty, dumbstruck, and with at least two new kinks you've never even considered. she sleeps next to you looking like an innocent, beautiful princess like always as if she didn't just change your sense of self without batting an eyelash.
oh and she definitely was smirking during the whole thing.
