nelly ⟡

20 - she/they - bi - 18+ MDNI feel free to leave a request :3

[snoopymelking]

nelly. 20. lesbian who writes smut and other things. the pitt. mascara. fruity scents. converse. naps. autistic. mentally ill. lover girl.

masterlist. rules. tag list.

my twitter :3

requests are always open !!!

made by @snoopymelking

[aphrodites-divine-nectar]

I hate that I have to be that person on release day, but if I see you all passing around the Shawn Hatosy “Yes, Chef” audio like a Google Drive heirloom, I am going to personally call Shawn Hatosy to snitch on you…

Quinn is a small, woman-owned platform built to pay writers and voice actors. Quinn is a team of 11 people! This is not like Netflix where pirating it is sticking it to a corporation. It is directly cutting the people who made it out of getting paid. It also violates their terms and can get content taken down, which ruins it for everyone.

Also, these audios are intimate. Voice actors are performing vulnerability and desire for an audience that is choosing to be there. They’re mature, interested, and engaged. Leaking that outside of that space is invasive. Do not leak it. Do not be a creep.

If it is good enough to be foaming at the mouth over within hours, it is good enough to pay a few dollars for. Do not be strange about art you claim to love.

Support the arts. Yes, Chef.

[moodyabbott]

Shy!reader get sick and she visit the pitt at night

okay so this is set before they are a couple!!

thank you anon! i hope u enjoy <3

—

the waiting room was packed and sticky from the humidity.

almost every single chair was occupied as the television mounted on the wall played quietly over the constant murmur of conversations, ringing phones, and coughs.

she had been sitting there for nearly three hours.

at first she'd thought someone would call her back quickly.

and when an hour had passed, she decided to open her kindle app.

and when another hour passed she just couldn’t focus anymore. her book long forgotten.

because every time a nurse appeared through the doors, her head lifted hopefully before sinking again.

the fever hadn't broken and if anything… it felt worse.

her body ached. her throat burned from the constant coughing, and the room was too bright and too loud.

twice she'd considered walking up to the desk and asking how much longer it would be.

twice she'd lost her nerve.

everyone else looked like they needed help more than she did anyway.

so she waited… and waited… and waited.

by the time someone finally called her name, she nearly missed it.

"miss?"

her head snapped up.

a nurse smiled.

"we've got a room for you."

relief hit her so hard she almost cried.

the exam room wasn't much quieter than the waiting room. voices carried through the hallway. monitors beeped somewhere nearby, and stretchers rolled past every few minutes.

she sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded in her lap, trying not to feel overwhelmed.

was she sitting weird?

what should she say when the doctor arrives?

she sighed, closing her eyes to calm her nerves before the door opened.

a young nurse stepped inside.

"hey, i'm mateo." he offered a friendly smile while pulling up her chart and read her name aloud.

his brows furrowed, recognizing her name but he pushed it to the side as she coughed into her elbow.

“sorry.” she sniffled.

some of her tension started to ease though, because mateo was easy to talk to. he was kind and he was nice to look at.

"so..” he gave her a smile. “what brings you in tonight?"

she explained her symptoms softly.

the fever that just won’t break.

the cough.

the exhaustion.

and the fact that she had barely eaten all day— her stomach would churn and turn whenever she tried to take a bite of anything.

mateo's expression became more serious as he listened.

"how long has the fever been running?"

"um.. about three days, i’d say.”

his head lifted from the notes he took. "hmm, three days?"

she nodded, coughing in the process making her gasp for air.

“sorry.”

"have you seen anyone before tonight?" he wanted to know.

"uh no."

mateo stared. "you waited three days?"

she looked down immediately, clutching her hands tighter together.

“i thought it'd go away." she let out a nervous chuckle.

a cough following suit. she apologized again, mateo smiled, dismissing it with a wave of his hand.

but before he could say anything else, movement outside the room caught his eye.

someone was passing by.

dark scrubs.

broad shoulders.

a coffee in one hand and a chart in the other.

jack abbot. his attending.

mateo looked up.

jack looked in and halted.

for a second, neither man moved.

mateo frowned in confusion.

"what?" he said to jack.

jack didn't answer.

his eyes were fixed entirely on the patient sitting on the bed. a knowing and surprised look plastered onto his tired features.

she was deathly pale.

flushed with the fever.

and suddenly mateo understood.

"oh."

the single word carried far more meaning than it should have.

because mateo knew.

he pulled it out of jack one night, after he came in for a shift with one of those schoolboy smiles— and jack never did that.

jack abbot wasn't dating her.

but mateo kept telling jack that he could if he grew some balls.

jack stepped into the room, opening the door slowly.

"what are you doing here?" his question wasn't harsh.

it was concerned.. deeply concerned.

she blinked up at him.

clearly startled to see him.

"oh! uh.. hi."

mateo physically had to stop himself from smiling.

“he’s my neighbor.” she said to explain.

mateo nodded. he already knew but he’d never tell her that.

jack crossed his arms.

"you're sick."

she looked down at her hands.

"yeah?"

"how’s the fever?"

she hesitated and gaped at mateo.

mateo answered for her.

"well, she’s had it for three days."

jack's jaw tightened.

"three days?"

she shrank visibly beneath the attention.

"i thought it would get better!”

neither of the men in front of her looked impressed.

jack rubbed a hand over his face.

for a moment he looked less like a trauma attending and more like a man trying very hard not to be worried about someone.

yet unfortunately for him, he was failing miserably.

like, really badly.

"have you eaten?"

a pause between her and mateo. jack winced.

"n-no.” she finally let out.

jack closed his eyes.

mateo immediately looked away towards the ceiling, fiddling his thumbs awkwardly because now he was witnessing something deeply personal.

when jack opened his eyes again, he looked directly at him.

"did we order labs?"

"already done."

"fluids?"

"i was about to hang them before you came in." he pointed.

jack nodded at that.

then he looked back at her.

his expression softened immediately.

"so you're gonna sit here," he said calmly, walking towards her bed.

he stoped so close that he felt her knees against his thigh and spoke again, “and you're gonna let us take care of you. and your going to stop apologizing for coughing."

her cheeks turned pink despite the fever.

because she had been apologizing.

constantly.

and of course jack had noticed.

his voice lowered.

"you understand?"

she gave him small nod.

"good."

and for the first time all night, she felt herself relax.

[bluetimeombre]

ALWAYS GO OLDER

─── Jack Abbot x reader smut

synopsisa patient tells you older is always better, Jack wants to know if you can confirm that.

warningsSMUT. MDNI. Oral (f and m receiving) fingering, dirty talk, slight dom Jack, penetration, p in v. language

authornotei dont even think god will take me after this one. this aint proofread

“So you think older is better?”

“Like anything good,” said Lu as you cleaned out her leg, pulling the light over to find the grit. “Like cheese... wine... sex.”

Your lips quipped up and you nodded. You didn't know how you started talking about this- you'd only asked what she was doing and how she fell. Date with an older guy, she said, was walking back from his when I fell. It must have been more of a tumble, roll and fall from the state of her leg that had got her through the waiting room and triage.

The next thing you knew she was highlighting how good sex was with an older man.

“It's like they have the experience and the confidence and they care more about getting you off than they do themselves,” she said.

“How many dates have you been on with the guy?” you asked, only trying to keep conversation while you plucked out the gravel. Trying to distract yourself from thinking about sex and older.

“Oh, this was the first one,” said Lu, laid back on the bed with a dreamy look in her eyes. “We've been talking for a few months on this app for older guys to meet women who are younger and interested. We met tonight and I had the best sex ever.”

The pling of gravel on the metal tray echoed out.

“You got a boyfriend?” she asked you.

You were silent, acting as if you were focused on the gravel. “I don't.”

Lu smirked at your silence. “But you got somebody?”

To that you had nothing to say. Maybe you did have somebody- or at least someone came to mind. Grey hair, stubbled chin and dark eyes in the shape of a doctor.

“Oh you got somebody,” said Lu.

You managed two more pieces of gravel and glass before she opened her mouth to speak again, to probably ask you another question but at the same time the door opened, bringing with it a small snap of the bustling sounds of the Pitt at night and the faint air of woodland and grease.

“How we doing in here?”

Jack walked in like he was un-aware to how you'd thought about him and then he came like you'd conjured him up. His grey hair, short stubble at the chin that he quickly rubbed at and dark eyes evaluating.

You betrayed yourself in looking to Lu.

“Is this him?” she asked, eyes lighting up.

Jack looked between the two of you. “Talking about me again, doc?” Jack asked.

You were focused on the task at hand but you didn't need to look to find him at your side, diligently watching you work.

“All good things,” said Lu.

He huffed out a little smile, hands held behind his back. His eyes bore into your head. “I'm Doctor Jack Abbott, I see you're in good hands here. How're her bloods?”

“Bloods are all clear though blood pressure is a bit high, we wanna keep an eye on that,” you said.

Jack nodded. “Well I'm sorry you're night took an unfortunate turn, Miss Marigold.”

She shrugged, rumpling her black dress. It was sleek and fit her in ways you could never imagine the dress fitting you. “Meh, it was pretty much done anyway.”

You were too caught up in the gossip she had been giving you that you didn't think about Jack not being informed. “He kicked you out?”

“No,” she said. “I left. Didn't want that awkward after sex small talk.”

“That's called aftercare.”

It was such a thrown away comment in Jack's words. He said it like he was prescribing her morphine. But the words rushed to your body, jolted you awake and alert to his presence.

Aftercare to some may have been normal, you didn't know other peoples sexual habits- you only knew yours and aftercare wasn't part of it. Your... sexual partners were few and far between and also loved to use your bathroom and sleep it off. Besides that was months ago before you started night shifts. Now your sex life was nothing but dry dry dry with the only occasional fantasy of your attending keeping you going.

“How old are you, Doctor Abbott?” asked your patient.

You caught Jack's smirk.

“Don't you know you should never ask a gentleman his age?” he said.

“Forties? Fifties?”

“Well I'm glad you ruled out thirties.”

You laughed.

“Are you single?”

“You asking?”

“And what do you think about younger women?” Lu asked with seemingly no shame. You carried it all in the blaze of heat in your cheeks.

“I don't know if this is an appropriate conversation to be having,” you said, trying to deflect. Looking between them, you found Lu waiting with curious eyes, not at all uncomfortable and Jack... surprisingly much of the same.

“You mean how do I feel about dating younger women?” asked Jack, standing at the other side of her bed.

In your eyeline.

“There's this app, called 'Always go older' it's catered for men over forty meeting younger women with similar interests. Go on dates, have long term relationships, or just sex.”

You couldn't believe the conversation you had been having with her before Jack came in, making the small space of the exam room even smaller. Having it with him in the room was your idea of a nightmare.

Jack nodded slowly, considering. “An app for... sugar daddies?”

You looked up at him. “You know what sugar daddies are?”

He pursed his lips at you in disappointment. “I'm old, I'm not clueless.”

“If you're interested I can get you a great discount,” said Lu like this was a business meeting. “Both of you.”

Jack looked at you but you missed whatever his eyes were trying to convey when you realised this app cost.

“You have to pay?”

“To be a member yeah, there can be a lot of creeps out there and they do real good work to make sure they're not in the club. You interested?”

“Not if I have to pay,” you said, thinking first of your bank account and nothing else. You only realised once you'd said it what it sounded like.

That you were interested. That older men and dating for you were hand in hand.

You looked up hoping at least Jack wouldn't have noticed. His eyes were on you, an amused tilt to his lips. “Okay!” you stood up, pulling off your gloves. “All the gravel and glass is out but I'm gonna get another blood test in to check your alcohol levels. I'll call a nurse to dress you up and we'll keep you for observation on that blood pressure.”

She nodded. “Do you think I could do a pregnancy test too? Just, while I'm here.”

Jack approached your side, watching you again. His head was tilted up but his eyes were down on you. He was attending but as always he waited on your say. He never overstepped, never made assumptions, always let you lead with your gut.

You wondered if that was what younger women were looking for...

“Sure, I'll get you a pot for a urine sample and we can get those tests.”

“Were you practising safe sex?” asked Jack.

Lu stretched out on the bed, pulling at the seams of her dress at her cleavage. “It feels better without.”

Jack seemed un-bothered, if anything understanding as his head slowly bobbed in a nod.

You'd never had sex without a condom before. Never wanted to risk it.

Jack held the door open for you, letting you lead the way out.

It was noisier and busier yet it was easier to breath. At least for a second before Jack's body brushed yours as he walked next to you.

“Is she a cop? Feel like we were being interrogated in there.”

“That or she gets paid to promote the app.”

You slid into a chair desperately trying not to look at the clock. You had a bad habit of doing so and the night would drag on. You pulled up her chart and distracted yourself with repeating what you'd already said to avoid the inevitable conversation you were gonna be having with Jack.

His mouth opened and you beat him to it.

“I swear we just started talking about that, I was just asking her how she fell and she told me about the guy and started talking about sex and the date and the app, I... I did not invite that conversation.”

He nodded. “It's okay if you did.”

“I didn't.”

“Okay.”

There was silence between you. Your finger moves quickly over the keyboard and Abbott stayed stood there, watching.

“If you're interested-”

“- I'm not,” you said, quickly, without really knowing what he was asking for.

Jack held his hands up in surrender. “Older men aren't too bad.”

“Oh no, I'm-I'm sure they're great, I have nothing against age, you know, old's great! Like.... like wine! Or-or cheese! I just, I mean, my love life- sex life is kinda, urm-” you stumbled over your words. It was annoying how Jack just stood there, letting you, without stopping or helping. “I just don't really have the time for dating.”

You worked nights and in the day you were catching up on sleeping and eating. The furthest your date life got was phone calls with Jack when he was grocery shopping and wanted your opinion, or sometimes in the morning when you got breakfast together before heading back.

He always walked you home, even if it meant an extra half hour before he got home. He was a gentleman like that.

He was still calm as he held his hands behind his back and watched you. “Are you looking to date?”

You chuckled. “Ha, you know a guy who works as crazy shifts as me?”

Jack's eyes lowered to yours. “Maybe. Might be a bit older though.”

You realised what he meant just as an ETA was called in.

The ETA had turned into five and for the rest of the night you and Abbott were too busy with the rest of the team to brush by each other. Every move was a hard move of shoulders to not bump or ripping of the gowns off and the harsh change of gloves. There was no time to talk about anything through the night, let alone whatever the hell had happened at the start of shift.

Your small reprise came when a man dressed in the makings of a rushed man walked in as the clock was striking past five in the morning.

“Excuse me, I'm looking for Lu Mari-gold?”

His hair was silver and growing at the back of his neck. It was brushed back handsomely and though he clearly must have been in his fifties (at least) he had a head full of hair and stubble growing on his chin.

He was handsome and even more so when you saw the bouquet of flowers he held in hand.

“Are you- are you family?”

“No I'm uh- I'm her partner.”

So you escorted him to her room, letting him in and giving him a small update on her care. He set the flowers next to her and you lingered, diligently checking her chart.

“Why'd you leave, honey?” he asked, sitting on the edge of her bed and petting back her hair.

“Oh you know,” she said, casually. “Didn't want to do the whole awkward morning after thing.”

“There'd be nothing awkward about it. I was gonna make you breakfast, had plans to make love two you in the morning.”

Your cheeks flamed up as he said it so casually, like he was laying out a list for morning plans which.... he well was.

You decided to give them some privacy and save yourself form listening. You gently closed the door over and watched them through. He kissed her gently on the forehead, cradling her and Lu soaked it all in in adoring eyes and gentle touches.

It was a sort of tender touch you weren't used to even seeing, let alone feeling.

“Hey,” there was a ghost of a touch on the small of your back and Jack came to stand next to you. “That her boyfriend?”

“Yeah, though I don't know if they're their yet,” you admitted. “They only met tonight- well, last night. But she ran out.”

“And he came to her,” observed Jack. “They'll be just fine.”

“How'd you know?”

“The way he looks at her.”

When you looked at Jack he was already looking at you.

The thousand moments between the two of you played out. The gentle ghosts of a hand, the watchful moments but Jack was like that with a lot of people, attentive.

Your eyes fluttered as you looked away from him to the scene playing out again. “Are you some sort of relationship whisperer?”

He huffed a small amused laugh and followed your eyes to look ahead. “I just know things.”

It wasn't long before Lu and her partner were walking out, the flowers in hand as his arm was around her waist, supporting her.

They stopped off by the nurses counter where both you and Jack lingered working on separate cases.

“We just wanted to say thank you,” said Lu. “And here. There's a ninety percent success rate.”

She handed you a business card with the app name and promo code applied.

“Oh, er, thank you,” you said, un-sure on what to say other than a thanks.

Lu smiled kindly, leaning in to you as subtle as possible. Her eyes lingered somewhere over your shoulder. “Though I don't think you'll need it.”

You turned, catching sight of what she was watching.

Jack stood with Crus who was thrusting a tablet to him but he was looking at you.

“I'll- er- put it to good use. I'll see you in a couple days to check out those stitches.”

Slowly they left and you were stood frozen, staring down at the card. Ten dollars a month wasn't so bad if you didn't count the subscriptions you already had at the student loan and bills and such. You got three months half price, maybe three months to meet the love of your life or at least get some-

The card was plucked from you fingers.

Jack twirled it around. “You thinking about it?” he said, an edge to his voice.

“What? No- I don't know, she just- it was a parting gift?”

He nodded, reading the card. “Always go older,” he read.

“It's the app, younger women with, um, older men.”

“Interested?”

The way he looked at you felt more like an invitation than a general question. His eyes were hooded as he looked at you. It was the way he always looked at you but it felt weighted.

“It's just an app,” you excused.

Jack held the card out between the two of you, letting you chose.

It should've been your choice but it felt like there was a right and wrong answer.

Slowly, you plucked it from his fingers.

Two days later you found Jack Abbott on the app.

You were scrolling in the bathroom on your three minute pee break. You'd got the app that morning, caving in after spending a night tossing and turning and dreaming. You could say the dream was any old man, a faceless sort but even if that were true you felt the hard press of the chest, the tickle of the stubble. You imagined the freckles along the arms and the low rumble of his voice in your ear.

“That's it... that's it... take me in... all the way... god you feel beautiful,”

You woke wet between your legs and hot all over with little to no time to do anything about it.

You were desperate, you told yourself as you hastily built up a profile, picking what small pictures you had of yourself not in scrubs.

You hadn't had time to check it until the bathroom break and you don't make it three profiles before you were faced with Abbott.

The pictures of him were pictures you'd seen before, a selfie with his stupid smirk, the peek of army uniform there. There was another of him that seemed to a couple years ago and the third and final was a picture of him in scrubs.

It was a picture of the night shift but you could tell there were several cropped out, but you who stood next to him were still there.

You stared down at the picture of you two, his arm was thrown over your shoulders casually. He was grinning at the camera and you had a small smile to, your body leant into him. You hadn't even realised you did that.

Didn't Abbott know it wasn't a good sign to have a picture of another woman on the dating app? Unless it was your mother and you were a mamas boy.

There was knocking on the bathroom stool doors.

“Have you coded in there?” Crus called out.

You huffed and got off the toilet, pulling up your pants and pocketing your phone.

“If only.”

The night continued as usual, abdominal pains, charting, lacerations, charting, traumas and charting.

You'd hardly got a look at Jack when it was turning to six in the morning and day shifters started piling in.

You were passing the break room when the door swung open.

Jack popped out, catching you, his arms braced at the door. “Get in here, now.”

You were worried, reading through every patient you'd seen that day. You were sure you dealt with them all attentively, you'd never misdiagnosed someone before and today couldn't have been the day.

Jack closed the door behind him, checking nobody was on their way to find you before speaking. He was calm as he walked over to you, leaning his hand on the table and crowding you. “Why do you think I need to talk to you?”

You tried to think of something you'd done wrong. Anything. “Trauma came in, I er, didn't intubate quick enough?”

He shook his head and you tried to think again.

Before you could hazard a guess, he spoke. “I thought if you were interested, you'd have said something.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Interested?”

Jack's chest rose and fell in a deep breath. “In going older.”

“In going-” your mind short-circuited to his profile. If you'd seen him just a few hours ago, he could have seen you before then.

“I thought I had made my invitation clear,” he uttered.

“Invitation?” you repeated, feeling like a stuck record player.

“To go older,” Jack stepped closer and you could feel the warmth of his breath. “I was inviting you to try it.”

His breath somehow still smelt of mint freshness whereas you were sure yours was coffee stained from the three cups you'd already drunk.

“And not through the app,” he added.

You gulped. “You saw me on the app?”

“I saw you on the app.”

“But you're on the app,” you pointed out, eyes flickering up to his.

“I got it two days ago to make sure you didn't get it,” he said. His eyes weren't focused on yours. They were flickering between your eyes and your lips.

You wondered if you were still dreaming. If you were still in your bed, still dampening your panties and sheets with this crazy dream of him. You pinched yourself slowly but you felt the pain and didn't wake.

You squeezed your eyes shut and opened them and he was still there. Still calm. “You want to have sex with me?”

Jack's jaw clenched. “Honey, I want so much more than that.”

His finger was light as it brushed the back of your hand that rested on the table there.

“I want what you want, and maybe even more,” said Jack, his hand cradled your face. thumb dragging over your cheekbone. “You just got to tell me what you want and I'll make it happen.”

You'd thought that being with an older man meant being told what to do, that you wouldn't get a word in edge ways and yes, it was hot to think about.

You imagined Jack would be that, gently guiding you through your pleasure like he understood it better than you did. “You, I want you.”

Jack's lips were soft on yours, his head tilted at the perfect angle that meant he reached every edge of your lips at once. He didn't push against you, annoyingly so, he just let you feel the press of his lips like a fresh summers breeze.

It was your hands that fell on his chest, it was you that tilted your head back so he could reach deeper. It was your tongue tracing the bottom of his lips to get in deeper.

The door clattered and you jumped from Jack like he'd scorched you.

Jack only opened his eyes slowly, turning.

Robby leant on the door frame, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his lips as he sipped from his coffee cup. “Good morning, brother.”

Jack took you home to his and carefully man handled you through the door. Once it was closed his lips sort yours in a hunger even a twelve hour shift couldn't kill.

He breathed against you hard as he kissed you, stirring you through his house with his hands migrating from your cheeks, to your neck, to your waist, to your hips, to anyplace he could get a hold of you.

Your hands made his neatly combed hair a mess as you leant against him, letting yourself be moved around like a rag doll.

“Is this your house?” you asked against his lips. You couldn't look around to study his space, he was hardly letting you go to catch your breath let alone turn your head.

He nodded, kissing you. His tongue entered the warmth of your mouth and he moaned into you. “We didn't break and enter, baby.”

“But you-” you gasped as his hands travelled under your shirt, sending a chill. “You don't rent.”

This wasn't your best dirty talk.

Jack smiled against your lips. “No, I have a mortage.”

You kissed him again, holding him close as your hand slithered to the back of his neck.

He was still navigating you through his house till you felt your back hit a wall. “Does that turn you on?”

Slowly he pulled at the ties of your scrub pants and he slid his hand in enough to get a feel of the warmth of your cunt through your panties. You were wet, impossibly so just by kissing him.

“Yeah,” he said, breathless. “It turns you on.”

Jack's teeth scraped down your neck, his tongue soothing where he nipped.

You tilted your head back, a silent invite for more.

A thigh of his slotted between your legs and you fell onto it.

“You wanna- wanna tell me about tax returns next?” you teased.

“Maybe,” he said, lifting his head back to yours. “I kinda wanna taste you first.”

With strong hands on your hips he turned you and pushed you through the open door into a master of a bedroom. The bed was in the middle, a four postered type thing with clean and made sheets. There was nothing messy about it, nothing to signify the exhaustion of a night shift.

Jack held your body into his, hips rutting against yours.

You acknowledged somewhere in the back of your head that he'd told you years ago he moved into a bungalow. No stairs- easier on his leg.

“Do you know how many times I've touched myself thinking about you, on that bed?” he whispered into your skin, kissing the words there.

“You-You have?”

You felt his hair tickle you as he nodded. “Do you like knowing that?”

“Yes.” You reached over, cupping the back of his head till your tongues were meeting in a sloppy kiss.

Jack's hands slipped down your waist, down your underwear and spread at your cunt till he could easily slip in a finger.

You gasped against him, body curling in pleasure you'd never felt.

He moved with you as if he was chasing you, sucking on your bottom lip.

“You like that?” he uttered, dragging out your bottom lip.

You nodded as he slowly withdrew his finger to slip another in.

“Need to hear you like it, baby.”

“I like it, Jack, like your fingers inside of me.”

The fingers on his free hand moved to wrap around your neck, tilting your head back till it rested on his shoulder. With this advantage he could like on the skin, feel the heat of you and the jump of your pulse as he slowly worked his fingers in and out, curling at the spots that got you shaking.

Your held onto his arm, fingers digging into the skin.

“You're gonna like it,” he whispered. “You're gonna like it so much you'll never go back, never want anyone else.”

His fingers worked quicker as you felt him leave marks at your neck, in places you knew people would be able to see. “Still like my fingers inside of you?”

“Yes, god, yes!”

“How'd they make you feel, baby?”

“Good, so good.”

Jack withdrew his hands and turned you, guiding you up on the bed. He leant back on his knees, slowly undoing the ties of his scrub bants.

You'd never been happier that they were black, showing the outline of his cock, hard and begging for attention.

“Take your top off.” He gestured.

You did and his eyes grew darker though didn't know how that was possible. Your hands trembled with eager excitement to get your hands on him or for him to get his hands on you. You moved to un-clasp your bra but Jack shook his head.

“Keep it on. Take my shirt off.”

His chest was broad and slightly defined. Freckles dotted around and one or two scares you'd never seen before were littered there too.

It was instinct to move in to his neck to kiss him but his hand wrapped around your neck and pushed you down till you bounced off the mattress.

“Eyes on me, keep your eyes on me.”

You followed his order as he slowly dragged down your scrub pants and panties, getting a glimpse of how wet they were before they were chucked aside.

Hopefully that was the time Jack let you see all of him. No.

Like a prized possession Jack laid you out and spread your legs.

It was suddenly all too real. The haste of the drive over, his hand on your thigh, everything he said about being with an older guy and how Lu had told you how experienced they were. Would he expect something you couldn't deliver? Did you expect something?

“Jack,” you said only his name but you didn't know what else you were trying to lead on anyhow.

His eyes were earnest though clouded by desire as he pushed your legs up till you were sprawled out for him. “I'll stop any time you want.”

You watched him get closer to your heat. Felt yourself cry out for his attention.

“You're gonna like it, gonna love it,” he promised, eyes focused on you as he slid his middle finger inside of you. “Relax... relax.”

You tried to but as another one of his fingers slid into you, creating a slow thrusting pattern and his other hand kept playing with your cunt to get your lips spread you could do anything but relax.

Your breathing kicked up, your pulse was high.

As Jack leant down to slowly flick his tongue against your clit you threw your head back and moaned.

“Oh shit, Jack- Jack!”

His gaze flickered up to you, daring you to try to speak.

When you did it came out as another moan, his tongue flattening against your bud of nerves.

He played with you like that, moulding your legs around to where he wanted them. Flat on the bed, over his shoulders, up in the air. Anything to get him deeper inside of you.

All the while you alternated between watching him and falling back on the bed in aches of pleasure.

Jack watched where his fingers disappeared inside of you. “Swallowing me up, can't wait to get my cock inside of you.”

“Want it.... want it....” you mumbled, head back on the softness of his quilt.

“Yeah?” he whimpered.

Your hand fisted the quilt that smelt like him and you smothered your face in it as his fingers curled.

“Oh my god, honey... yeah....” Jack moaned before you felt the wet of his tongue on the heat of you.

You couldn't tell where one ended and the other began. Whether it was his spit on your cunt or your want that was pooling into wetness on his sheets.

There was no warning, only your moans, as you came around his fingers and tongue. You had no idea you could come so quick, had no idea it could be pulled from your head to your toes.

Jack let your orgasm play out, pulling back to watch it leak. “Oh yeah... yeah...” his fingers swept up the mess lightly. “You're so sweet, oh yeah... moan like that...”

His tongue went in, licking up all the mess around you.

“Jack please, I can't- I can't!”

Your body was trembling beyond your control and he was still playing around with you and your sensitive bud. Your arms wrapped around yourself as if you could hold yourself together from breaking out in cries.

You hadn't noticed your eyes were screwed shut until you felt him move and heard the demand in his voice.

“Look at me.”

When you did you found Jack standing at the foot of his bed, scrub pants deserted and hand wrapped around his own cock.

You looked at him and then some.

“Touch me, touch me,” he said gently, prying your hands away from your chest with care.

With guidance he helped you sit up and helped you feel his cock.

You'd done this before but your mouth had never watered by the idea, your body never wept with the need to suck another guy off. Nothing about him disgusted you. Not the scars around his knee where he lost his leg, not the hair that dusted the base of his cock in tamed grey.

It moved you on.

You only jerked him off slow, only a little at first but his breath became laboured.

Jack's eyes closed as he grabbed a hold of your legs like they were his anchor.

You wanted to speed up.

“Go easy on me,” he said with a drunk grin. “It's been a while.”

You moaned and inched your body closer to the edge of the bed, your heat wanting to swallow him up.

Jack's eyes watched as you withered. He held onto your wrist that stayed wrapped around the base of his cock. “No, no, no, don't put it in yet.” Slowly he came to lean over you. “I want you to suck on it. You want it? Want to suck this old mans cock?”

In answer, the two of you moved quickly till he was lying flat on the bed and you were over him, slowly taking the tip in your mouth.

“Oh my god... oh yeah...” he moaned. Jack petted back your hair. “Take the tip.... take the tip... swirl your tongue...”

You took in his tip and swirled the tongue just as he said, watching him as you took him deeper with his careful help.

A string of 'oh yeah, don't stop' fell from him like a mantra as you took him deeper and faster, the need growing in you again.

“It's not- it's not too much?” he checked in, his head falling back.

You only took yourself off him to shake your head before sucking him into your mouth again, holding the base of him and working what you couldn't manage.

Jack groaned, hands flying to his head as his fists clenched. “You're so good... oh you're so good, baby.”

You took him deep and hollowed your cheeks.

Jack lurched. “Fuck! Fuck- shit, don't do that,” he moaned, guiding you off with pink cheeks. He chuckled, guiding you up to him. “I'll finish if you do that.”

He kissed you, never minding the both of your arousal on each other's lips. “They're are so many ways I want to be inside of you.”

You moaned against his lips. “I want you inside me, Jack.”

“I know, I know.” His brows pulled together as he seemed to have a battle in his own mind about just how to have you.

You didn't make it easier. In temptation you lied back on his bed and spread yourself out. All the while he was still caught up in thinking.

You almost started playing with yourself to relieve the build up when Jack grabbed your wrist and guided your fingers into his mouth.

He gently kissed the pads of your finger tips. “Turn around.”

Jack lied next to you, your back flush with his chest. He lined his cock up with your cunt, slowly sliding the length of it between your folds.

“Con-condom?” you mumbled, dreading the feel of anything that wasn't completely him.

Jake kissed your shoulder. “It feels better without. I'm clean.”

You nodded, breathless at the promise of feeling him. All of him. “I'm clean and I have a, an IUD.”

He kissed you again as he nudged the head of his cock into you.

Your moans echoed around the room as he held onto you, inching himself in further and further.

Only once you'd just got the feel of all of him he was slowly retreating to push back in again. For a moment it was only the sound of the both of you breathless and the gentle sounds of skin on skin as he moved at a steady pace, growing needier, getting deeper by every thrust.

“Oh my god... oh my god...” you moaned.

Jack's hands grabbed your hips, helping you meet his thrusts in urgency. The sun was just peeking through the blinds and a thin layer of sweat glowed off both your bodies.

You tried to grind your backside into him, desperate to feel relief as his pace remained steady.

Jack gripped your hip, leaning into your ear. “Don't rush it, don't rush it,” he nipped at your ear. “Don't be greedy, we'll go slow.”

You didn't want slow. You wanted fast. You wanted hard.

The slow drag of his cock through your walls drove you mad. He reached around, fingers circling your clit as his other hand finally un-hooked your bra.

It wasn't long before Jack was slamming into you, harder, your body rocking with his movements and the head of his bed hitting the wall.

“God, it's been so long.... you feel amazing...” said Jack as his fingers circled your clit hard.

“Jack I'm gonna-”

At the warning he stilled himself inside of you.

“Not yet, honey, not yet.”

You whined, hand moving round to grab at his ass and hold him in.

Jack groaned and bit into your neck. “I know, I know. Just gimme a minute.”

You had no choice as he slid out of you and moved you around so you were flat on the bed. You felt his fingers thrust inside of you again harder than before.

His breath was hard, chest rising and falling quickly. “I wanna make you come in so many ways I can't chose how.”

He was a man starved, ravenous as he dedicated time to licking you up again, if only for a minute. But he moaned around you, sucked in your nerves and released it to the mercy of his fingers.

“Jack!” you yelled, screw the neighbours.

There was a growl somewhere in the back of his throat as he loomed over you.

“You wanna fuck me?”

“Yes, Jack, bad so bad!”

“Okay, okay honey, fuck me then, come one baby.... I know you can.”

Jack pushed into you as the both of your eyes clashed watching the pleasure in each others eyes. He set a brutal pace, holding a leg up as he peppered kisses along your chest.

“J-Jack-”

“Tell me how good I feel.”

“So good.”

“So good, yeah baby, so good,” he gasped. “Oh fuck, god baby!” He reached over and gripped the headboard, body tight in pleasure.

You arched off the bed.

“I need you to come,” he announced, eyes screwed up in pleasure as he thrusted into you hard, the slap of his balls on you.

You watched where he met you as your legs shook.

“I need you to come so I can come.... one more time, baby.... one more time, please....” he begged.

The sight of him sweating, his body rigid, eyes shut in pleasure and mouth hanging open only to voice obscene moans was enough to have you coming over the edge.

Your walls tightened.

Jack must have felt it as he steadied himself over you, fingers falling between your bodies to work you through it. “That's it.... that's it.... that's it...” He kissed along your collarbone.

You released over him, gasping, body melting into him as Jack rode out your orgasm.

“Arg... oh god... you feel so good, I-urg-”

Dirty words spilled from your mouth as Jack latched onto your mouth and let go inside of you.

The both of you were a panting, sweating mess as he calmed down, slowly slipping out of you but kissing away every whine and protest.

Your breathes slowed and slowly Jack slipped out of you, watching his release leave you.

His eyes flickered back up to you, brushing away hair that had stuck. “I've never come like that in my life.”

You were still catching your breath, still waiting for the race of your heart to dull. “Your welcome?”

Jack chuckled, falling beside you and throwing an arm over you. “I think you can delete that app now.”

You groaned with a wave of embarrassment, covering your face. Gently, Jack pried away your hands and kissed the palms of them. You turned on your side. “Are you going to delete it too?”

“Honey I only got it cause I couldn't stand the thought of you getting it, and some other gut thinking he can treat you better.”

“I always hoped it would be you.”

Jack kissed you tenderly. “So?” he asked against you. “You think older is better?”

[snoopymelking]

mel king x high-masking autistic reader please🥺

safe hands

note: oh my gosh ofc!!! i’m assuming you meant in a fluff way instead of smut so here you go :3

word count: 1,525

contains: fluff, work stress, high masking autistic reader

the pitt was never quiet, but dr. king had learned to carve out pockets of stillness in the chaos. tonight, the er hummed with its usual rhythm, beeping monitors, hurried footsteps, and the low murmur of voices that sometimes felt like static against her skull. she adjusted her scrub sleeves for the third time, the fabric just slightly off in a way that prickled, and kept her expression neutral. professional. high-functioning. the mask stayed on.

she spotted you near the nurses’ station, clipboard in hand as a visiting consultant. you were new to the rotation, quiet and precise, the kind of person who noticed details others missed. mel had noticed you noticing things. the way your eyes flicked to the flickering overhead light before anyone else complained. the subtle shift in your posture when the paging system crackled too loudly.

“dr. king,” you said softly when she approached, offering a small, knowing smile that didn’t demand anything back. “shift almost over?” mel exhaled, shoulders dropping a fraction. “hopefully. you?”

“same.” your voice was even, but she caught the faint tension at the corners of your eyes. high-masking recognized high-masking. it was like seeing your own reflection in a foggy mirror, familiar, a little relieving.

they had started talking weeks ago during a rare slow night. a shared comment about the terrible coffee in the break room led to a conversation about routines, then preferences, then the careful dance of admitting that crowds and bright lights drained you both in ways you didn’t always say out loud. mel appreciated how you never pushed. you matched her energy, offering space when she needed it and quiet company when words felt too heavy.

after shift change, mel found you in the dimly lit staff lounge, hood up on your sweatshirt, earbuds in but not playing anything loud. you looked up as she entered, pulling one earbud out. “want company?” she asked, hovering by the door. you nodded, scooting over on the couch. “only if it’s the low-stimulation kind.”

“perfect.” mel kicked off her shoes and sat cross-legged, leaving a comfortable gap between you. she pulled a small, soft blanket from her bag, one she kept for days like this and draped half of it over her lap, offering the other end to you without fanfare. you accepted it, fingers brushing hers for a second. the touch was brief, grounding. “thanks. the lights in the trauma bay were… a lot today.”

“tell me about it.” mel leaned her head back against the couch, closing her eyes. “i had to step into the supply closet for five minutes after the mvc rollover. just to reset. counted the boxes of gauze until my brain stopped buzzing.”

you chuckled softly, the sound warm and rare. “i do the alphabet backwards in my head. or list medical terms by category. high-masking survival 101.” mel opened one eye, glancing at you with a small, genuine smile. “same. my sister used to call it my ‘robot mode.’ she’d know when i was doing it because i’d get extra polite and my sentences got shorter.”

you turned toward her a little more, the blanket rustling. “my family thought i was just ‘well-behaved.’ took years to unlearn the idea that needing a break meant i was failing.” the lounge was quiet except for the distant hum of the hospital. mel felt the knot in her chest loosen. talking to you was easy in a way that didn’t require her to perform. no forced eye contact. no pressure to fill every silence.

“i like that you get it,” mel said after a while. “most people think i’m just… intense. or peculiar. they don’t see how much effort goes into looking like i’m fine.”

you reached over slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away, and rested your hand palm-up on the blanket between you. an invitation. mel placed her hand in yours, lacing your fingers together gently. your palms were warm, a little calloused from years of writing notes and gripping stethoscopes.

“i see you,” you murmured. “and i like what i see. the real version, mask and all.” mel’s heart did a soft flip. she squeezed your hand. “yeah? even when i’m info-dumping about rare neurological cases at 2 a.m.?”

“especially then.” your thumb traced a slow circle on the back of her hand. “i have a whole folder of articles i save for when you need a new rabbit hole. figured we could share them sometime. low-pressure. maybe over tea at my place, where the lights are actually warm and dimmable.” mel turned her head to look at you fully, her usual guarded expression softening into something tender. “i’d like that. a lot.”

the next few weeks blurred into a gentle routine. stolen moments in the lounge. text messages during breaks with memes about sensory issues or shared victories like surviving a full day of meetings. mel started leaving a spare pair of noise-canceling earbuds in her locker for you after she noticed yours were wearing out. you started bringing her favorite unflavored protein bars when the cafeteria options were overwhelming.

one evening, after a particularly brutal shift, mel was the one unraveling. she sat on the bench outside the hospital, hood up, rocking slightly as the city noise pressed in. sirens in the distance. too many headlights. her hands pressed over her ears.

you appeared beside her without needing to be called, sitting at a respectful distance. you pulled out a small, soft fidget toy from your pocket, one you’d noticed she liked the texture of, and held it out. no questions. no “are you okay?” that would force her to explain.

mel took it, fingers working the fabric absently. after a few minutes, she leaned sideways until her shoulder brushed yours. “thank you,” she whispered. “always,” you replied just as quietly. “want to go somewhere quieter? my car’s parked close. it has those window shades.” she nodded.

in the car, with the engine off and the shades blocking the streetlights, the world narrowed to just the two of you. mel reclined the passenger seat a little and turned toward you. “i don’t usually let people see me like this.”

“i know.” you kept your voice soft. “i’m honored you trust me with it.” mel studied your face in the low glow of the dashboard lights. the way you held yourself, composed on the outside, but with that familiar undercurrent of careful control. “you do it too. mask so well that sometimes i worry i’m the only one who notices how much it costs you.”

you shrugged, a small smile playing on your lips. “us high-masking folks have to stick together, right? share the load.”

“right.” mel reached across the console, and this time she initiated the hand-holding. your fingers intertwined naturally now, practiced and comforting. she brought your joined hands up and pressed a light kiss to the back of yours. “i really like you. like… more than like. the kind where i think about you during rounds and it makes the day feel lighter.”

your cheeks warmed, visible even in the dim light. “i feel the same. you’ve become my favorite part of these long shifts. the person i look forward to decompressing with.”

they sat like that for a long time, talking softly about favorite textures, the shows they watched on loop to unwind, the little accommodations that made life manageable. mel told you about growing up with her sister and how it shaped her drive to understand neurodiversity. you shared stories of late-diagnosed struggles and the quiet pride of learning to unmask in safe spaces.

when mel finally felt steady again, she didn’t pull away. instead, she leaned closer. “can i…?” you nodded, meeting her halfway. the kiss was soft and tentative at first, two people used to holding back, learning how to lean in. it tasted like quiet relief and new beginnings. mel smiled against your lips, one hand coming up to cup your cheek with the gentlest touch.

when you parted, foreheads resting together, mel whispered, “stay with me tonight? not for anything intense. just… shared silence and maybe some takeout with the lights low.”

“i’d love that,” you answered, voice warm with affection.

months later, the relationship had deepened into something steady and beautiful. mel still masked at work, and so did you, but with each other, the masks came off more often than not. there were quiet dates at home, building blanket forts, watching documentaries with subtitles, trading deep dives into special interests without judgment.

one night, curled up on your couch under a weighted blanket, mel traced patterns on your arm. “you make me feel safe to be… me. fully.”

you kissed the top of her head. “good. because i love every version of you, mel. masked, unmasked, info-dumping, quiet. all of it.”

she snuggled closer, the tension of the day melting away in your arms. in the soft glow of a single lamp, with the world kept gently at bay, two high-masking hearts had found a place where they didn’t have to hide. and for the first time in a long while, the silence

written by: @snoopymelking

tagged: @eyek0ns , @grayyyz , @linziee , @rockangelsz , @nickswriting , @djosfool , @femmescars

[wishmoafi]

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

butch!cassie mckay x femme!reader

cassie mckay, who always insisted on buying you whatever you looked at a little too long at the mall. “that'll look good on you.” she mutters, as you hold a low-cut top in your hands. “you think so cass?” to which she nodded, “i know it will. only wear it around me though, kay?" handing you her credit card.

cassie mckay, who kisses you right after you put vanilla lipgloss on. she pulls back, smiling. “you doing this on purpose? tastes good.” & she may or may not like it when your lipstick stains her cheek, or chest.

cassie mckay, who notices when you buy a new perfume. muttering about how she could've covered it for you, before nuzzling her nose into your neck. kissing you & trailing down slowly..

cassie mckay, who comes up behind you while you wear brand new panties & one of her t-shirts, slipping her thumbs into the sides. her fingers trailing on the hem, putting her head on your shoulder. “ am i bothering you? ” she knew the answer.

cassie mckay, who gently fucks you & soothes you. not even bothering to take off ur brand new panties, just sliding them to the side. “ i know, i know. ” she coos, moving ur hair stuck to ur forehead. “ i'm so mean, aren't i? though, i think you know better than to wear this around me. ”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

gif creds | masterlist | request me

[eatmycodbetty]

“oh you’ve been reading a lot of Pitt ff recently? i also love hucklerobby!!!”

yeah! yeah . no. it’s mel king.

x reader.

[snoopymelking]

could you do top mel?? like i love how u write but i can’t stop seeing her as a top

senseless

note: oh ABSOLUTELY !!! mel imo is def a switch but let me tell you rn… she is a FREAK. anyways i hope you enjoy and i hope i did your request justice :3

word count: 1,348

contains: porn with no plot, top!mel, rough sex, oral sex, fingering, face sitting, tribbing, strap on use, overstim, multiple orgasms, light choking, spanking, praise, and degradation

you barely make it through the door before she has you pinned against it, her body pressing hard into yours as she kicks the door shut with her foot. her hands grip your hips tight, fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks as her mouth crashes against yours. the kiss is hungry and demanding, her tongue pushing past your lips immediately, claiming every inch of your mouth while she grinds her hips forward.

her breath is hot against your skin when she pulls back just enough to speak. “been thinking about fucking you all fucking day.” she yanks your shirt up roughly, hands sliding under to squeeze your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples until theyre stiff and aching. you moan into her mouth and she bites your bottom lip in response, hard enough to make you whimper.

she doesnt waste time. your shirt gets tossed across the room and her fingers hook into your waistband, shoving your pants and underwear down in one rough motion. cool air hits your already soaked cunt and you shiver. she kicks your legs apart wider, one hand pinning both your wrists above your head while the other dives between your thighs.

“so fucking wet already,” she growls against your neck, teeth scraping skin as two fingers slide through your folds and push inside without warning. she curls them instantly, stroking that spot that makes your knees weak. her thumb presses firm circles on your clit and your hips jerk forward, chasing the pressure.

she fingerfucks you fast and deep right there against the door, the wet obscene sounds filling the room with every thrust. three fingers now, stretching you open as she bites down on your shoulder. your moans get louder and she laughs low, adding her mouth to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave bruises.

you cum hard the first time, clenching around her fingers, thighs shaking as slick runs down her hand. she doesnt stop. she keeps pumping through it, drawing it out until youre twitching and oversensitive, then finally pulls her fingers out and pushes them into your mouth.

“taste how much you need me,” she says. you suck obediently, tongue swirling around her fingers while she watches with dark hungry eyes. she drops to her knees next, shoving your legs wider and burying her face between your thighs. no teasing. her tongue licks a long slow stripe up your slit before she sucks your clit into her mouth hard. two fingers push back inside you, fucking you steadily while her tongue flicks fast and relentless. your hands tangle in her hair but she slaps them away.

“hands on the door. dont move them again.” you obey, palms flat against the wood as she devours you. she eats you out like shes starving, tongue fucking into your cunt then back to your swollen clit, sucking and licking until your second orgasm crashes over you. your legs nearly give out but she holds your hips firm, licking you through every wave until youre gasping and whimpering.

she stands up, stripping quickly, revealing her smooth toned body. she grabs you by the waist and walks you backwards toward the bed, pushing you down onto it. you land on your back and she climbs over you immediately, straddling your chest.

“my turn,” she says, sliding up until her wet cunt hovers over your face. “make me cum.” you dont hesitate. your tongue licks through her folds, tasting her arousal as she lowers herself onto your mouth. she grinds down, riding your face with steady rolls of her hips, one hand gripping your hair to control the angle. her clit bumps against your nose with every movement and you suck it when you can, tongue pushing inside her when she lifts slightly.

“fuck yes, just like that,” she moans, grinding harder. her thighs squeeze around your head as she uses your mouth, getting wetter and wetter. you lap at her eagerly, sucking and licking until her breathing gets ragged. she cums with a low groan, flooding your tongue as her hips jerk. you keep licking until she pulls away, sliding back down your body.

she kisses you deep, tasting herself on your tongue while her hand slides between your legs again. three fingers push inside your dripping cunt, fucking you slow and deep while she grinds her wet pussy against your thigh. the friction on her clit makes her breath hitch.

“you’re going to cum again for me,” she tells you, curling her fingers perfectly. her mouth moves to your breasts, sucking and biting your nipples as she fingers you faster. you cum a third time, soaking her hand and the sheets beneath you. she pulls her fingers out and smears your cum across your lips before kissing you again.

she shifts positions, pushing your legs wide apart and settling between them. her cunt presses against yours, hot and slick as she starts grinding. clit to clit, she rocks her hips in firm steady motions, hands pinning your thighs open. the wet slide is perfect, messy and hot, building pressure fast.

“look at you, falling apart under me,” she murmurs, grinding harder. sweat beads on her skin as she fucks you like this, hips snapping with purpose. your moans mix with hers and she leans down, one hand wrapping lightly around your throat as she speeds up. the pressure makes your head spin in the best way and you cum again, shuddering against her.

she doesnt stop. she keeps pushing you through it, chasing her own orgasm until she cums too, grinding deep and slow as she rides the waves. but she’s still not done.

she reaches over for the strap, buckling it on with quick efficient movements. the thick toy hangs heavy between her legs as she kneels over you. the thick and blue hue making you smirk in excitement. “hands and knees. now.”

you roll over shakily, ass up and face pressed into the pillows. she runs the head of the dildo through your soaked folds, teasing your entrance before pushing in slowly, stretching you open inch by inch.

“fuck, you take it so well,” she groans, bottoming out with a snap of her hips. she starts thrusting hard, one hand on your hip, the other reaching around to rub your clit. every stroke hits deep, pounding that perfect spot inside you. the sound of skin slapping skin fills the room along with your broken moans.

she spanks your ass hard, the sting blooming into heat as she fucks you faster. “my perfect little slut. taking everything i give you.” another spank, another deep thrust. you cum hard around the toy, clenching tight as she keeps pounding through it.

she pulls out suddenly and flips you onto your back, hooking your legs over her shoulders. she drives back in deep in one thrust, folding you in half as she fucks you senseless. her eyes stay locked on your face, watching every expression while she ruins you.

“cum again,” she demands, pounding harder. her hand returns to your throat, squeezing just enough to make you dizzy with pleasure. you cum a fifth time, vision blurring as your body shakes.

she keeps going, changing angles, slowing down to grind deep then speeding up again. she fucks you through another orgasm, then another, until you’re a sobbing dripping mess, thighs soaked and voice hoarse from moaning.

finally she pulls out, removes the strap and pulls you into her arms. her hands stroke down your back almost gently, but her fingers soon trail lower again, circling your oversensitive clit.

“one more,” she whispers, sliding two fingers back inside your wrecked cunt. she fucks you slow and deep, thumb on your clit until you cum one last time, weak and trembling in her hold. you lay there panting, body spent and buzzing as she kisses your forehead softly. “good girl. you took everything so well.”

the room smells like sex and sweat, sheets ruined beneath you, but she keeps you close, fingers still buried inside you possessively as you both catch your breath.

written by: @snoopymelking

tagged: @eyek0ns , @grayyyz , @linziee , @rockangelsz , @nickswriting , @djosfool , @femmescars

[snoopymelking]

pushing limits

word count: 1,520

contains: SMUT, praise kink, soft dom!mel, pushing physical limits, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex, strap-on use, tribbing, aftercare

you’d been at it for forty minutes already, the gym lights buzzing overhead and your muscles burning in that familiar, addictive way. the pitt’s on-call staff gym was nearly empty this late, most of the trauma team had already dragged themselves home after another brutal shift. but not mel king.

she leaned against the rack, arms crossed over her chest, scrub top stretched across her shoulders. her eyes tracked every movement you made on the bench, the faint smirk on her lips telling you she knew exactly how hard you were working to impress her.

“ten more, sweetheart,” mel said, voice low and steady like she was giving orders in the or. “you’ve got it. don’t tap out on me now.”

your thighs trembled as you pressed the barbell up again, breath coming in sharp gasps. sweat slicked your skin, tank top clinging to your breasts, shorts riding up with every rep. you were already past your usual limit, but something about the way mel watched you made you want to keep going.

“that’s it,” she praised, stepping closer. her hand hovered near the bar, ready to spot but not helping yet. “look at you pushing through. good girl. i knew you could handle more than you give yourself credit for.”

the words hit straight between your legs. you squeezed your thighs together on the next push, a soft whimper escaping despite yourself. mel’s smirk deepened.

“uh-huh. i see you. getting all worked up from a little praise?” she crouched beside the bench, close enough that you could smell her clean sweat and the faint trace of hospital soap. “eyes on me. one more set. push past it. i want to see what this pretty body can really do.”

your arms shook on the final reps of the set, but her voice kept you going. “come on, baby. for me. you’re so close. don’t stop now, yes, just like that. fuck, you look incredible when you’re trying so hard.”

you racked the bar with a heavy clang, chest heaving. mel’s hand settled on your thigh immediately, warm and firm, thumb stroking the slick skin just under the hem of your shorts.

“look at that,” she murmured, eyes dark with heat. “you went way past your usual. i’m proud of you.” she leaned in, lips brushing your ear. “such a good fucking girl for me.”

you moaned outright at the words, arousal flooding through the exhaustion. mel chuckled, low and pleased, and helped you sit up. her hands lingered on your waist, steadying you as the room spun for a second.

“easy. catch your breath.” but her fingers were already sliding under your tank top, tracing the curve of your spine. “you earned a reward, don’t you think?”

before you could answer, she pulled you to your feet and backed you against the mirrored wall. the cool glass contrasted sharply with your overheated skin. mel dropped to one knee, peeling your shorts and panties down in one smooth motion. she tapped your ankle so you could step out, then looked up at you with that intense, focused gaze she usually reserved for trauma cases.

“leg over my shoulder, baby. let me taste how wet being pushed around made you.” you obeyed, one hand gripping her hair as she buried her face between your thighs. her tongue was relentless, broad, flat strokes over your clit followed by teasing flicks that had your knees buckling. mel groaned against you, the vibration shooting sparks up your spine.

“fuck, you’re soaked,” she said between licks. “all this from a little workout and some praise? my dirty girl.” she sucked your clit into her mouth, two thick fingers sliding into your pussy without warning. they curled instantly, hitting that perfect spot while she kept up the suction. your head fell back against the mirror with a thud. “mel- oh god-”

“that’s right. say my name while i reward you.” she pumped her fingers faster, tongue working in tight circles. “you did so good for me. took everything i gave you. now cum on my tongue like the good girl you are.”

the orgasm hit hard and fast, your thighs clamping around her head as you cried out. mel didn’t stop, licking you through every pulse until you were shaking and oversensitive.

she rose, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before kissing you deeply. you could taste yourself on her tongue. she pressed her body against yours, thigh slipping between your legs so you could feel the heat radiating from her. “think you’ve got one more in you?” she asked, voice rough. “or should i carry you to the showers and fuck you there?”

“fuck me here,” you gasped, tugging at her scrub top. “please, mel.” she spun you around so you faced the mirror, hands planted on the glass. you watched her reflection as she stripped off her top, revealing toned arms and small, firm breasts. she kept her sports bra on but reached into her gym bag and pulled out her favorite blue strap-on, buckling it around her hips with practiced efficiency. the silicone cock was thick already glistening with lube she quickly applied.

“look at yourself,” she ordered, voice low in your ear. “watch how well you take me after pushing those limits.” she pushed in slowly, stretching you open inch by inch. the burn was perfect, mixing with the lingering high from your first orgasm. when she bottomed out, hips pressed tight against your ass, she groaned and dropped her forehead to your shoulder.

“fuck, so tight. so good for me.” she pulled back and thrust in again, harder. “this pussy was made to be rewarded, wasn’t it?” you moaned, pushing back to meet her strokes. the wet slap of skin filled the empty gym, echoing off the walls. mel reached around to rub your clit in time with her thrusts, never breaking rhythm.

“tell me how it feels,” she demanded, nipping at your neck. “big- mel, you’re so deep-” your voice broke on a particularly hard thrust. “feels so good… i’m your good girl.”

“damn right you are.” her pace picked up, pounding into you with controlled power. sweat dripped from her chest onto your back. “pushing yourself for me, letting me fuck you raw right here where anyone could walk in. my perfect little overachiever.”

the praise combined with the relentless drag of the strap against your g-spot had you spiraling again. mel felt it, her fingers tightening on your hip. “that’s it. give me another one. cum on my cock, show me how much you love earning it.”

you shattered around her, walls clenching hard as pleasure ripped through your exhausted body. mel cursed softly, fucking you through it with shorter, deeper strokes until your legs trembled.

she pulled out carefully, unbuckling the strap and setting it aside. then she turned you around, lifted one of your legs around her waist, and pressed her soaked pussy against yours. the slick heat of her clit grinding directly on yours made you whimper.

“my turn to feel you,” she breathed, rolling her hips in firm circles. “you’re so fucking wet for me… such a good girl.” you clung to her shoulders as she tribbed you against the mirror, both of you sweaty and desperate. her fingers dug into your ass, holding you in place while she chased her own pleasure. when she came, it was with a low, shaky moan, thighs trembling against yours.

for a long moment, the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the occasional drip of sweat onto the floor. mel held you close, arms wrapped around your waist to keep you upright as your legs threatened to give out.

she kissed the back of your neck softly. “you did so fucking well,” she whispered, voice gentling. “i’m proud of you, baby. let’s get you cleaned up.”

she guided you to the showers, washing you with careful hands, massaging shampoo into your scalp, soaping the sweat and mess from your skin with gentle strokes. she wrapped you in a clean towel and sat you on the bench while she dried your hair.

“next time,” she said conversationally, pressing a kiss to your temple, “we’re doing deadlifts. and if you hit a new pr, the reward’s even better.” you laughed breathlessly, leaning into her chest. “you’re going to kill me, king.”

“nope,” her smile was warm, almost boyish in its confidence. “just going to make sure you know exactly how strong you are… and how much i love watching you prove it.”

she helped you dress in soft clothes she’d grabbed from her locker, then walked you out to the parking lot with an arm around your shoulders. before you got into your car, she pulled you in for one last kiss, deep, possessive, and full of promise.

“text me when you get home,” she murmured against your lips. “and hydrate. doctor’s orders.” as you drove away, thighs still pleasantly sore and body humming with satisfaction, you couldn’t stop smiling. mel king didn’t just push your limits in the gym. she made you crave breaking them.

written by: @snoopymelking

tagged: @eyek0ns , @linziee , @grayyyz , @rockangelsz , @nickswriting , @djosfool , @femmescars

[snoopymelking]

hospital heat

word count: 2,117

contains: SMUT, jealous and possessive mel, jealous and possessive sex, fingering, oral, dirty talker mel

the shift at ptmc had been one of those endless ones where every bay seemed to overflow with chaos and every chart blurred together under the harsh fluorescent lights. you moved through it all with the steady grace that always made mel’s eyes soften when she caught sight of you across the nurses station or down the hall. the two of you had been keeping things quiet for months now, stolen kisses in the supply closet, late night texts that turned into sleepy voice notes when she finally dragged herself home from a double. it wasn’t that you were hiding exactly, just that hospital gossip moved faster than any trauma alert and neither of you wanted the extra eyes.

you were finishing up a chart when trinity santos leaned against the counter beside you, her scrubs still crisp despite the hours and that easy confident smile playing on her lips. she had been circling closer lately, compliments on your suturing technique, offers to grab coffee after a rough trauma, little jokes that lingered just a beat too long. you laughed politely and kept it light, your mind already drifting to the text mel had sent earlier promising she’d meet you in the locker room once things slowed.

trinity glanced around once like she was checking for eavesdroppers then lowered her voice just enough. “hey, can i ask you something?” you looked up from the tablet, offering a small smile. “sure, what’s up?”

before you could say more mel rounded the corner, her tall frame cutting through the hallway with that focused stride that always made your stomach flip. she had her glasses perched on her nose and a chart in hand but her eyes found you immediately, softening for half a second before they flicked to trinity standing way too close. mel slowed, joining the little huddle at the counter like it was casual, but you could read the subtle tension in her shoulders.

trinity didn’t miss a beat. she straightened a little, still smiling that bright resident smile, and turned her attention fully to mel. “dr. king, perfect timing actually. if there’s nothing going on between the two of you, you don’t mind if i ask her out on a date, do you?”

the words landed like a defibrillator shock in the quiet corner of the nurses station. you felt your face heat instantly, eyes darting between them. mel’s expression didn’t change at first, that professional mask locked in place, but you saw the way her jaw tightened, the way her fingers flexed around the edge of the chart she was holding. the air between the three of you thickened in a way that had nothing to do with the usual er bustle.

mel’s voice came out even, low, that calm doctor tone she used right before she took control of a crashing patient. “and what makes you think there’s nothing going on?” trinity blinked, clearly not expecting the direct pushback. she laughed a little, trying to keep it light. “well i mean i haven’t seen anything official and she’s single as far as i know. figured i’d check with you first since you two seem close. respect and all that.”

you opened your mouth to cut in, to say something polite that would shut this down without drama, but mel beat you to it. she set the chart down slowly, deliberately, and stepped just a fraction closer to you so that her arm brushed yours. the contact was small but electric, a silent claim.

“she’s not single,” mel said simply, her eyes locked on trinity now with a sharpness that could have cut through trauma shears. “and even if she were, the answer would still be no. she’s with me. has been for a while now.”

trinity’s eyebrows shot up, surprise flashing across her face before she recovered with a quick nod. “oh. shit, my bad. i didn’t realize. congratulations then, seriously. you two make a cute couple.” she pushed off the counter with a casual wave, already backing away like she knew when to retreat. “won’t happen again. have a good rest of your shift.”

she disappeared down the hall and the silence that followed felt heavier than any code blue. you turned to mel, heart hammering, ready to whisper an apology or a joke to ease the sudden tension, but she was already looking at you with an intensity that made your knees feel a little weak. her hand found the small of your back, guiding you away from the station and toward the quieter hallway that led to the staff lounge.

“mel,” you started softly once you were out of earshot, “i wasn’t going to say yes. you know that, right?” she didn’t answer right away. instead she kept walking until you reached the small on call room that was rarely used this time of night. she pulled you inside, closed the door behind you, and finally let the mask slip. her hands came up to cup your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks as she searched your eyes like she needed to reassure herself you were still hers.

“i know,” she murmured, voice rougher than usual. “i know you wouldn’t. but hearing her ask like that, like she thought she could just… take you out, show you off, touch you the way i touch you. it hit harder than i expected.” her forehead rested against yours, breath warm. “you’re mine, baby. and i don’t share.”

the kiss that followed wasn’t gentle. it was hungry, possessive, mel pouring every ounce of that jealous spark into the way her mouth claimed yours. her tongue swept in like she was erasing any trace of trinity’s words from your lips. you melted into it immediately, fingers curling into the front of her scrubs, pulling her closer until there was no space left between you. when she finally pulled back you were both breathing harder, the room suddenly too warm.

“not here,” you whispered against her mouth even as your body argued otherwise. “shift’s not over.” mel groaned softly but nodded, pressing one last fierce kiss to your forehead. “after shift. my place. i need to remind you exactly who you belong to.” her voice dropped lower, the promise in it sending heat straight down your spine. “and i’m going to take my time about it.”

the rest of the shift dragged in the worst way. every time you passed each other in the halls mel’s hand would brush your waist or her eyes would linger a beat too long, dark with intent. trinity kept a respectful distance after that, shooting you both apologetic smiles but staying far away. by the time you finally clocked out and climbed into mel’s car the tension between you had coiled so tight you could barely sit still.

the drive to her apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the radio and the occasional squeeze of her hand on your thigh. she didn’t speak much, just kept stealing glances at you like she was already picturing everything she was going to do once that door closed. the second you stepped inside her place mel had you pressed against the wall, mouth on yours again, hands sliding under your shirt to map every inch of skin like she needed to reclaim it.

“bedroom,” she growled against your lips, and then she was lifting you, carrying you down the short hallway with that easy strength that always left you breathless. she set you on the bed gently enough but the look in her eyes was anything but. she stripped off her scrubs and yours with efficient, hungry movements until you were both bare and she was crawling over you, caging you in with her taller frame.

“tell me you’re mine,” she whispered as she kissed down your neck, teeth grazing just enough to leave faint marks that would bloom tomorrow. her hand slid between your thighs, fingers teasing through the slick heat already waiting for her. “say it, baby. i need to hear it after tonight.”

“i’m yours, mel,” you gasped as two of her long fingers pushed inside you without warning, curling just right. “only yours. always.” she hummed in satisfaction, pumping slowly at first, building that delicious pressure while her mouth found your breast, sucking a mark into the soft skin there. “good girl. because no one else gets to have this. not trinity, not anyone. this pussy is mine to fuck, mine to taste, mine to make cum until you can’t remember anyone else’s name.”

her words alone had you clenching around her fingers. she added a third, stretching you open while her thumb circled your clit in tight steady strokes. you arched into her, moaning her name like a prayer, hands fisting in her hair. mel worked you higher and higher, eyes never leaving your face, drinking in every whimper and gasp like it was oxygen. when you finally tipped over the edge she didn’t stop, riding you through it until you were shaking and oversensitive.

but she wasn’t done. she kissed her way down your body, replacing her fingers with her mouth, tongue licking into you like she was starving for the taste of your release. she ate you out with single minded focus, two fingers back inside curling against that spot that made stars burst behind your eyes. you came again on her tongue, thighs trembling around her head, and still she kept going until you were begging, voice hoarse.

only then did she pull back, lips shiny and swollen, and reach for the strap she kept in the nightstand drawer. she buckled it on with quick practiced movements, the thick silicone already glistening with lube. she settled between your spread legs again, rubbing the head against your soaked entrance.

“look at me,” she ordered softly. when your eyes met hers she pushed in slow and deep, filling you completely in one smooth thrust. the stretch was perfect, overwhelming in the best way. mel held still for a moment, letting you adjust, forehead pressed to yours again. “feel that? that’s me inside you. only me. no one else will ever get to fuck you like this.”

then she started moving, hips snapping in a steady rhythm that had the bed creaking and your moans filling the room. she fucked you hard and possessive, one hand pinning your wrists above your head while the other gripped your hip, angling you so every thrust hit exactly right. sweat slicked your skin, bodies sliding together, and mel never stopped talking, low filthy praise spilling from her lips between kisses.

“you’re so fucking tight for me, baby. taking my cock so well. gonna fill you up until you forget trinity even exists. you’re mine to ruin, mine to love, mine to keep.”

you came a third time with her name on your lips, clenching around the strap so hard she groaned and followed you over, grinding deep as her own pleasure hit. she collapsed on top of you afterward, still buried inside, pressing soft kisses to your neck and shoulder while you both caught your breath. her hand stroked down your side, gentle now, the jealousy burned away into pure tender possession.

“i love you,” she whispered against your skin, voice soft and raw. “so much it makes me crazy sometimes. seeing someone else try to take what’s mine… i just needed to remind us both who you belong to.”

you threaded your fingers through her hair, pulling her up for a slow, sweet kiss. “i love you too, mel. and i’m not going anywhere. not ever.”

she smiled against your mouth, finally slipping out and pulling you into her arms, bodies tangled under the sheets. the city lights filtered through the blinds, soft and distant, and for the first time since trinity’s question the tension in her shoulders was completely gone. she held you close, one leg thrown over yours, hand resting possessively on your hip like even in sleep she needed to keep claiming you.

outside the er would keep spinning tomorrow, charts and traumas and long shifts waiting, but right now in the quiet dark of her bedroom there was only the two of you. mel’s breathing evened out against your neck and you let yourself drift, safe in the arms of the woman who had just fucked every last doubt out of you and loved you harder than anyone ever could. no one else was ever going to get the chance to ask you out again. mel had made sure of that tonight, in every kiss, every thrust, every whispered mine that still echoed in your bones. and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

written by: @snoopymelking

tagged: @eyek0ns , @linziee , @grayyyz , @rockangelsz , @nickswriting , @djosfool , @femmescars

[snoopymelking]

hand in hers

word count: 1,698

contains: slight blood mention, worried mel, fluff,

the warm water ran steadily over your palm as you stood at the kitchen sink, watching the thin streak of red swirl down the drain in lazy pink spirals. the cut was small, nothing deep, just a careless slip with the knife while you were chopping bright bell peppers for the stir fry you wanted to surprise mel with. still, it stung enough to make you hiss quietly under your breath, and you knew without even looking that your sweet girlfriend was going to lose her mind a little when she saw it.

her footsteps echoed from the hallway, those familiar quick strides that always sped up when she was excited to be home with you after a long shift. mel king stepped into the kitchen, and the moment her eyes landed on your hand under the running faucet she stopped dead in her tracks. her tall frame went rigid, worry flashing across her face like a sudden storm behind her glasses.

“oh baby, no. what happened?” her voice came out in that soft, rushed tone she always used when you were even the tiniest bit hurt. she crossed the room in three long steps, her presence suddenly filling the whole space beside you. gentle, careful fingers hovered near your wrist, not touching yet, as if she might break you. “let me see, sweetheart. please let me see.”

you turned the faucet off and offered your hand to her, letting her cradle it between both of her much larger, warmer palms. her thumbs stroked slowly along the side of your hand, avoiding the cut itself, while her dark eyes scanned every detail like she was memorizing it to fix later. the little crease between her brows was so deep and adorable you had to fight a smile.

“it’s really not bad, mel, i promise,” you whispered, trying to sound as calm as possible. “just a silly kitchen accident while i was prepping dinner for us.” she shook her head, already grabbing the clean towel from the hook and wrapping it gently around your palm with the lightest pressure. “doesn’t matter to me if it’s small or big. you’re bleeding, and that means it matters a whole lot,” she murmured, pressing the towel just enough to stop the last little trickle. her touch was feather soft, like she was handling something made of the thinnest glass. “you’re my everything, you know that, right?”

you nodded, letting your free hand come up to brush a stray lock of her dark hair back from her forehead. she leaned into the touch immediately, eyes fluttering half closed for a second like your fingers were the best thing she’d felt all day after hours in the er.

mel guided you over to the counter and, with easy strength, lifted you up to sit on the edge so she could stand between your knees at eye level. from the drawer she pulled out the little first aid kit you both kept stocked for exactly these moments. “talk to me while i fix this, okay?” she said, popping it open with one hand while the other stayed wrapped protectively around your fingers. “what were you chopping, huh? you know i love doing the knife stuff for you after dealing with trauma all day.”

“just peppers and onions for that stir fry you like so much,” you answered softly, watching her work. “you came home a little early and i wanted everything ready and perfect for when you walked in.”

her eyes lifted to yours, big and warm and full of so much love it made your chest ache in the best way. “you’re always trying to spoil me, love, and i adore it, but not at the cost of you getting hurt,” she said. she dabbed a cotton pad with antiseptic and gave your thigh a gentle squeeze. “this might sting just a little bit. hold onto me if you need to, sweetheart.”

you gripped her shoulder as she cleaned the cut, her free arm sliding around your waist to keep you steady and close. she kept up a steady stream of soft praises the whole time, murmuring things like “that’s it, my brave girl, doing so good for me,” and “almost finished, i promise. you’re so strong,” and “i hate seeing even this tiny mark on you after everything i see at work.” every word melted the sting away, replaced by warm fluttering feelings in your stomach.

once the bandage was smoothed on, perfectly neat and secure, mel still didn’t pull away. instead she lifted your wrapped hand to her lips and kissed it right over the spot three times, slow and lingering. then she kissed your wrist, your knuckles, up your arm until she reached your shoulder, where she buried her face against your neck, breathing you in deep like she needed your scent to calm down after her own long day.

“i really hate seeing you hurt,” she whispered against your skin, voice muffled and sincere. “even something this little makes my whole chest go tight, like i need to wrap you in blankets and keep the whole world away forever, especially after the shifts i’ve had.”

you laughed quietly, looping both arms around her neck and pulling her even closer until your foreheads rested together. “i’d get so bored wrapped up like that, mel. who would make your favorite burnt toast and overly sweet coffee every morning then?”

she chuckled, the warm sound rumbling through her chest and into yours. “okay, fair point, but still. next time anything sharp comes out i’m your personal knife assistant. i’ll stand there looking cute in my scrubs and hand you whatever you need.”

“deal,” you agreed, tilting your head to kiss the tip of her nose. she scrunched it cutely, then caught your lips in a real kiss, slow and deep and full of relief. her hands settled on your hips, thumbs rubbing gentle circles through your shirt like she couldn’t stop touching you. the kiss stretched long and sweet until you were both a little breathless and smiling.

when she finally pulled back, her eyes were brighter, the sharp edge of worry smoothed into that soft mel glow you loved more than anything. “dinner can definitely wait. right now i just need to hold my favorite person for a while.”

you nodded, letting her scoop you off the counter bridal style like you weighed nothing, even though you could walk just fine. she carried you into the living room and sank down onto the big couch, arranging you carefully in her lap so your bandaged hand rested right over her heart. her heartbeat was steady and strong under your palm, a comforting rhythm that made everything feel safe.

for a long, long time you stayed just like that, tangled together, her fingers threading slowly through your hair while she pressed kiss after kiss to the top of your head, your temple, your cheek. every few minutes she would lift your hand gently, check the bandage, make sure it was still clean, and whisper, “does it hurt anymore, baby? tell me honestly.” you’d shake your head and snuggle closer, and she’d sigh in relief, squeezing you a little tighter, her neurodivergent need for deep pressure showing in how firmly but gently she held you.

“you know,” she said after a comfortable stretch of quiet, her voice low and warm, “every single time something like this happens it reminds me all over again how much i want to keep you safe and happy forever. you’re my whole world, my best friend, my favorite smile, my reason to come home early from the pitt. i can’t stand even the smallest pain on you.”

you burrowed deeper into her chest, inhaling the familiar comforting mix of her cologne, hospital soap, and just her. “i’m really okay, mel, i promise. and i love how much you care. it makes me feel so loved and lucky every single day.”

she hummed happily, the sound vibrating through both of you, and started rubbing slow circles up and down your back. the tv stayed dark, the half chopped vegetables forgotten on the counter. none of it mattered when you had mel holding you like this, like you were the most precious, fragile, wonderful thing in her universe. her worried energy had completely melted into endless protective cuddles, soft words whispered into your hair, and gentle kisses everywhere she could reach.

eventually she insisted on ordering your favorite takeout instead of finishing the stir fry herself, promising she’d handle all the chopping from now on with that focused doctor precision. when the food arrived she set everything up on the coffee table and pulled you back into her lap, feeding you bites from her own fork, making sure you didn’t use your bandaged hand at all. every time you laughed at one of her silly post-shift stories she would lean in and steal a kiss, tasting like soy sauce and pure affection.

the whole evening passed in a warm golden haze of closeness. mel kept you tucked against her the entire time, one arm always around you, the other occasionally reaching to hold your hand. when you started yawning she didn’t hesitate. she simply carried you to the bedroom, tucking the blankets around you with ridiculous care before crawling in behind you. she curled her bigger body protectively around yours, one arm draped carefully over your waist, her hand resting lightly near yours just in case you needed her in the night.

even in sleep she stayed close, breathing soft and steady against the back of your neck. every once in a while she’d shift and press a sleepy kiss to your shoulder, murmuring half formed sweet nothings like “love you so much,” and “my baby,” and “safe with me always.”

you fell asleep with a smile, knowing that tomorrow and every day after, dr. melissa king would still be your big, soft, worried girlfriend who turned every tiny scratch into an excuse to love you harder, longer, and deeper than you ever thought possible. and wrapped in her arms with her heartbeat steady against your back, you couldn’t imagine anything better.

written by: @snoopymelking

tagged: @eyek0ns , @linziee , @grayyyz , @rockangelsz , @nickswriting , @djosfool , @femmescars

[snoopymelking]

direct signals

word count: 1,063

contains: barely any angst, fear of rejection, slow burn

the pitt’s er never slept, but the quiet moments between codes were when things got dangerous. dangerous like noticing how dr. melissa king’s eyes lingered a second too long when you handed her a chart, or how her fingers brushed yours when passing instruments, never quite accidental, never quite claimed.

you were a nurse who’d transferred in six months ago, steady under pressure, quick with a smile that disarmed even the crankiest attendings. mel was… mel. brilliant, earnest, a little chaotic in the best way. she hyped herself up in the ambulance bay with megan thee stallion lyrics under her breath, missed high fives by a comical margin, and cared so fiercely it sometimes left her blinking back tears in the supply closet. but she never said what she meant outright.

shift 47

you were restocking trauma bay 3 when mel appeared in the doorway, shifting her weight like she’d been summoned for a performance review.

“hey,” she said, voice pitched a little too bright. “you’re… really good at suturing. like, the way you keep the edges even? impressive.” you glanced up, smiling. “thanks, mel. high praise from the resident who diagnosed that zebra case last week.”

she rocked on her heels, eyes darting to the ceiling tiles. “yeah. zebras. cool. anyway, some of us are grabbing terrible diner food after shift. if you’re not busy. or whatever.”

translation, you’d learned: “i want you there, but i’m terrified you’ll say no.” you set the suture kit down. “mel.” her gaze snapped to yours, wide, startled.

“if you’re asking me to come eat greasy fries with you,” you said gently, “just say that. ‘i’d like you to join us for food.’ direct. no pressure, but clear.”

pink crept up her neck. she opened her mouth, closed it, then managed, “i’d… like you to join us for food.” you grinned. “see? world didn’t end. i’m in.”

shift 62

another late night. you found her in the residents’ lounge, staring at her phone like it had personally offended her. becca, her sister, had sent a string of texts about a missed appointment. mel’s shoulders were tight, her usual restless energy coiled into something heavier.

you sat beside her on the sagging couch. “bad day?” she shrugged, then caught herself. “i keep… hinting at things. to patients. to coworkers. to-” she cut off, cheeks flushing. “it’s easier. safer. if they don’t get it, i can pretend i didn’t mean it that way.”

you nodded. “i’ve noticed. you’re really good at reading everyone else’s cues, but you hedge your own. like you’re waiting for permission to take up space.” mel let out a shaky laugh. “permission. yeah.” you turned toward her, knee brushing hers. “try it with me. right now. tell me one thing you want, straight out. no softening.”

her eyes met yours, hazel, intense, a little scared. for a long moment she just breathed. then, voice barely above a whisper, “i want to know if you feel this too. the… whatever this is when we’re in the same room.” your heart did something complicated. slow-burn, you reminded yourself. she was worth the patience.

you reached over and covered her hand with yours. “i do. and i’m glad you said it directly. made it real.” she exhaled like she’d run a marathon, but her fingers curled around yours.

shift 89 - the break room incident

weeks of tiny lessons. “mel, say ‘i need help with this chart’ instead of hovering hopefully. mel, tell me ‘i missed you on days’ instead of leaving extra coffee at my station with a post-it that just says “caffeine :)”.” she was getting better. still slipped into hints when nervous, but she tried.

tonight the lounge was empty except for the hum of the vending machine. you were both off-shift in ten minutes, scrubs rumpled, eyes heavy. mel stood by the door like she might bolt. “so… my place is closer. if you wanted to… unwind. watch something. not that you have to-”

you raised an eyebrow. she caught it. closed her eyes for a second, then opened them with determination. “i want you to come home with me. not for- i mean, we don’t have to do anything. i just… really want more time with you. alone. where it’s quiet and i don’t have to share you with codes and interns.”

the words tumbled out raw and honest. her hands fidgeted at her sides, but she didn’t look away. you crossed the room slowly, stopping close enough to see the faint freckles across her nose. “thank you for saying that. i want that too. a lot.” relief and something warmer flooded her expression. she smiled, small, shy, but real. “yeah?”

“yeah.” you brushed a stray curl behind her ear. “we’re taking this slow, okay? but direct. always direct with me.”

“direct,” she repeated like a vow. her hand found yours again, thumb tracing your knuckles. “i can do direct.”

shift 112 - the threshold

rain hammered the pittsburgh streets as you walked her to her apartment door. months of late night diner runs, quiet confessions in call rooms, hands brushing more deliberately now. mel had grown bolder, “stay five more minutes. hold my hand. kiss me goodnight if you want to.”

tonight she stopped on the welcome mat, keys in hand, and looked at you with that focused intensity she usually reserved for tricky diagnoses.

“i want you to come inside,” she said, voice steady despite the flush on her cheeks. “i want to kiss you without worrying about pagers or tomorrow’s rounds. and i want… more, eventually. when we’re ready. but right now, i just want you close.” you stepped into her space, heart thudding. “then i’m coming inside.”

the door clicked shut behind you. mel’s hands found your waist, hesitant at first, then surer as you leaned in. the kiss was soft, searching, the kind that promised the slow unraveling of everything good. no more hints. just the two of you, learning the language of what you both wanted.

outside, the city kept bleeding and healing. inside, dr. mel king was learning she didn’t have to hint at happiness. she could reach for it directly. and you were right there to meet her.

written by: @snoopymelking

tagged: @eyek0ns , @linziee , @grayyyz , @rockangelsz , @nickswriting , @djosfool , @femmescars

[snoopymelking]

heaven on her skin

word count: 1,463

contains: porn with no plot, fingering, oral, tribbing, multiple orgasms, body worship, light hair pulling, praise, sensory play, overstimulation

fingers graced gently against mel’s chest, nails raking softly through the long straight hair that spilled over her shoulders like dark silk. mel shivered under the touch, her eyes flicking away from yours for a moment before she forced them back, cheeks already flushed a deep pink. she was autistic and shy, especially here in the quiet glow of her bedroom where the world felt too big and her body felt too much. but with you she felt safe enough to try.

“is the pressure okay?” you asked quietly, keeping your voice even and predictable. mel nodded quickly, one hand twitching at her side before she reached up to thread her fingers through your hair instead. the repetitive motion calmed her almost instantly, a soft hum leaving her throat.

“yes… it’s good,” she whispered, direct as always when she felt safe. “i like when you touch my hair like that. it helps me stay here with you.”

her warm skin pressed perfectly against yours, breasts soft and heavy, nipples tightening the second they brushed your chest. you kissed her slow and deep, tongues sliding together in that careful rhythm she preferred, no sudden moves, just steady, building heat. mel melted into it, her body relaxing inch by inch as she let herself feel everything. there wasn’t a better place mel could be. your warm touch and your gentleness and care was heaven on earth for her.

your hand drifted lower, palm gliding over the soft curve of her tummy. mel’s breath hitched when your nails traced her happy trail, that dark line of hair she sometimes got self conscious about. she made a tiny embarrassed sound and tried to hide her face in your neck, but you kissed her temple and kept going. “you’re so beautiful here,” you murmured. “can i keep touching?”

“please,” she breathed, voice small. “it feels really nice. the scratching… it’s just right. not too light.” you dragged your nails again and again along that happy trail, following it down until your fingertips brushed the top of her mound. she was soaked already, slick coating your skin. mel parted her thighs wider, knees falling open in that trusting way she only did with you. you circled her clit with slow, steady strokes, keeping the rhythm predictable so her nervous system could ride the pleasure instead of getting overwhelmed.

“inside me?” she asked shyly after a few minutes, always so direct when she wanted something. “two fingers like last time. i liked that.”

you slid two fingers into her tight, dripping cunt, curling them gently against her g-spot. mel arched with a broken little moan, hips rocking in careful, controlled movements. you fucked her steady and deep, thumb pressed on her clit, while your mouth moved to her breasts, licking and sucking her nipples until they were shiny and swollen. mel’s hand stayed fisted in your hair, stimming harder as the pleasure built.

“you’re doing so good for me,” you praised softly. “letting me hear all those pretty sounds.” she came the first time with a shy, muffled cry into your shoulder, walls pulsing hard around your fingers. you kept moving through it, gentle but unrelenting, drawing the orgasm out until her thighs trembled. when you finally pulled out she whimpered at the loss, slick dripping down your wrist.

you kissed your way down her body, taking your time. you nuzzled her soft tummy, licked along every inch of her happy trail, then settled between her spread thighs. mel looked down at you with wide, shy eyes. “can you go slow with your tongue first?” she asked quietly. “then maybe suck a little? i need it to build up.”

you obeyed perfectly. long, slow licks through her soaked folds, tongue sliding inside her, then up to circle her clit. mel’s fingers twisted in your hair, stimming in that rhythmic way that helped her stay grounded. when you sucked her clit between your lips she let out a longer moan, hips stuttering.

“yes, there- i’m close again,” she warned, always polite even when falling apart. she came on your tongue with a shuddering gasp, slick flooding your mouth. you licked her gently through it, then kept going, pushing two fingers back inside while you sucked harder. mel came a third time quickly after that, thighs shaking around your head, a broken whimper leaving her as overstimulation started to creep in.

you crawled back up and mel immediately curled into you, face hidden in your neck, soft tummy pressed to yours. her happy trail tickled your skin as she caught her breath. she was quiet for a long minute, processing the intensity, fingers tracing patterns on your chest.

“i want to make you feel good now,” she whispered eventually. “if that’s okay. i liked when we rubbed together last time.” you guided her on top. mel straddled your thigh shyly at first, rolling her hips in small, careful circles. her wet cunt slid against your skin, leaving shiny trails of arousal. you reached between you, rubbing her clit while she ground down, and soon she was panting, long hair falling around both of you like a curtain.

“it feels really intense,” she admitted breathlessly, cheeks burning, “but i don’t want to stop. can we go faster?” you matched her pace, slipping two fingers inside her again while your own clit rubbed against her thigh. the wet, messy sounds of tribbing filled the room, slick, rhythmic, filthy. mel’s breasts bounced softly with every roll of her hips, nipples brushing yours. she came first with a muffled cry into your neck, cunt clenching hard. the feeling sent you over right after, pleasure crashing through you while mel kept rocking gently, riding every wave.

you held her through the aftershocks, stroking her back, letting her stim in your hair as long as she needed. but mel wasn’t done. after twenty minutes of quiet cuddling and soft kisses, she looked up at you with those big shy eyes. “can we do more?” she asked directly. “i still feel… a lot. i want your mouth again. and your fingers. please.”

you rolled her onto her back and started over. you worshipped her happy trail with your tongue, kissing and licking every inch of her soft tummy before burying your face between her thighs. this time you ate her out for a long, long time, slow broad licks, then focused sucking, three fingers stretching her open while she stimmed and moaned above you. mel came twice more, the second one so intense she had to tap your shoulder because it got too much.

“too sensitive,” she panted, honest as always. you gentled immediately, just soft kisses on her inner thighs until she calmed. then she surprised you by pushing you onto your back. mel was still shy, but she knew what she wanted. she kissed down your body the same way you had, lingering on your breasts, your stomach, then settling between your legs. her tongue was tentative at first, learning, but she quickly found the rhythm you liked. two long fingers pushed inside you, fucking you steady and deep while she sucked your clit.

“is this good?” she asked between licks, always checking in. “tell me if i should change anything.” you guided her gently with words and your hand in her hair. she made you come hard on her tongue, then kept going until you came again, thighs clamped around her head. mel looked so proud when she finally crawled back up, face shiny with your slick.

the night stretched on like that, slow, thorough, full of communication and care. you fucked her with your fingers while she rode your face, her happy trail brushing your forehead with every roll of her hips. you tribbed again, slower this time, bodies pressed tight, clits rubbing in perfect sync until both of you came shaking and gasping. you ate her out one final time with her on all fours, reaching around to rub her clit while she buried her face in the pillow to muffle her moans.

by the end mel was hoarse, glowing, and completely spent. she curled into you, soft warm body pressed along every inch of yours, long hair tangled across your chest. her fingers traced lazy circles on your skin, stimming quietly as she came down.

“there wasn’t a better place i could be,” she murmured against your neck, voice sleepy and sincere. “with you it’s safe. everything feels right. even when it’s a lot.”

you kissed the top of her head, fingers carding gently through her hair, and held her close as her breathing evened out. the city hummed outside, but in here it was just the two of you, warm skin, soft tummies, happy trails, and all the gentle heaven she deserved.

written by: @snoopymelking

tagged: @eyek0ns , @linziee , @grayyyz , @rockangelsz , @nickswriting , @djosfool , @femmescars

[snoopymelking]

the box you never threw away

word count: 1,506

contains: angst with happy ending, slow burn, hurt/comfort, mild medical trauma mentions, nostalgia, porn with plot !!! fingering, oral sex, light strapon use, orgasm denial/play, aftercare, alcohol use

you first met mel king during gross anatomy in med school, back when the world smelled like formaldehyde and instant ramen. she sat two rows behind you, always fidgeting with her pen, glasses slipping down her nose while she muttered facts about the brachial plexus under her breath. you noticed her immediately, the way some hairs refused to stay in her braid, the quiet intensity when she answered questions, the soft laugh she tried to hide during the ridiculous med school parties.

one night after a brutal practical exam you found her in the library at 2 a.m., head down on a textbook, shoulders shaking. you bought her terrible vending machine coffee and sat with her until dawn. that was the beginning. study sessions turned into late dinners, accidental knee brushes under tables turned into deliberate ones, and one rainy weekend you ended up in her dorm room with her mouth on yours and hands learning every new inch of skin. it never had a label. you were both terrified of ruining the only good thing either of you had during those brutal years. then you matched at different programs and the almost relationship dissolved into occasional texts and shared spotify playlists that hurt to listen to.

years later you transferred to pittsburgh trauma as a new attending. the first time you saw her in the er she was elbows deep in a trauma bay, barking orders with that same focused calm, hair braided back, glasses fogged from sweat. your eyes met across a gurney and something in your chest cracked open again.

now it’s been fourteen months of working together. fourteen months of stolen coffee breaks, late night drives home where her hand rests on your thigh, and careful distance in front of the rest of the team. fourteen months of not quite saying what you both feel.

tonight the shift is endless. a multi car pileup fills the er with bleeding and broken bodies. you lose a kid on your table, seventeen years old, prom tux still half on under the trauma shears. when you call it you step into the supply closet and press your forehead to the cool metal shelf. mel finds you there ten minutes later. she doesn’t speak, just pulls you into her chest and holds on while you shake. her scrubs smell like antiseptic and the faint lavender of her detergent.

“go home,” she whispers against your hair. “i’ve got the rest. please.” you argue but she’s stubborn when she wants to be. eventually you let her drive you to her apartment because the thought of your empty place feels unbearable. rain slicks the streets as her wipers slap rhythmically. neither of you talk much. inside she pours two generous glasses of cabernet and you both collapse on the couch still in scrubs.

after the second glass she stands up suddenly, nervous energy radiating off her. “wait here. i need to show you something.” she disappears into the bedroom. you hear boxes shifting, a muttered curse when something falls. when she returns she’s carrying a medium-sized cardboard box, edges worn soft from years of moving, sealed with peeling packing tape that’s been reopened and resealed multiple times. she sets it between you like an offering.

you recognize it immediately. “i can’t believe you kept this all these years,” you breathe, voice cracking. mel’s cheeks flush. she sits cross-legged and starts peeling the tape with careful fingers. “i tried to get rid of it. twice. once right after you left for boston, and again when i thought i was going to propose to that resident in my third year. both times i chickened out. it felt like throwing away proof that we were real.”

inside the box is your entire almost relationship preserved in amber. the ridiculous plastic stethoscope keychain from the med school fair where you won it for her by cheating at ring toss. crumpled notes passed during lectures, one that just says “you’re cute when you’re concentrating” with a tiny doodled heart. polaroids: the two of you at 3 a.m. in the diner, syrup sticky and laughing; another at the beach during spring break where you’re both sunburned and tangled in the same towel. the enamel pin with intertwined snakes. a dried corsage from the one formal you went to together as “just friends.” even the faded hoodie you left in her room the last night you spent together, her scent still faintly clinging to it after all this time.

tears blur your vision. “mel, this is… god.” she pulls out the hoodie and presses it to her face for a second, inhaling. “i wore this for weeks after you left. slept in it. my roommate thought i’d lost it.” her voice wavers. “i kept telling myself we were just two stressed med students who hooked up. but it was more. it was always more.”

you reach for her, cupping her face. “i kept things too. the playlist you made me. screenshots of texts i couldn’t delete. i almost flew back here a dozen times.”

the kiss that follows is desperate. years of missed time poured into it. her hands fist in your scrub top, tugging you closer until you’re straddling her lap on the couch. the box tips sideways, memories scattering across the cushions. you kiss like you’re afraid the other might disappear again, deep, messy, tongues sliding, teeth nipping. she tastes like red wine and the mint gum she chews after shifts.

clothes disappear in a trail toward the bedroom. her top, your pants, her sports bra landing on the dresser. you push her down onto the unmade bed and map her body with your mouth the way you used to dream about on lonely nights. you kiss the freckles across her collarbones, the small scar on her ribs from a bike accident in residency, the soft curve of her stomach. when you reach the waistband of her underwear you look up for permission. she nods, eyes glassy with want.

you take your time tasting her. slow licks through slick folds, two fingers curling inside while your tongue circles her clit. mel’s hips buck, one hand gripping your hair, the other twisted in the sheets. she comes with a broken moan of your name, thighs trembling around your head. you don’t stop, drawing it out until she’s whimpering and oversensitive.

then she flips you, surprisingly strong, and returns the favor with focused intensity. she knows exactly how you like it, two fingers deep, thumb on your clit, mouth sucking marks into your inner thigh. she edges you twice, pulling back right when you’re about to tip over, until you’re begging. when she finally lets you come it’s shattering, back arching, vision whiting out.

after the first round you’re both sweat-slick and breathing hard. mel reaches into her nightstand and pulls out the strap she bought months ago but you’ve only used twice. “do you want this?” she asks, shy even now.

you nod, pulling her down for a kiss. she takes you slow and deep, hips rolling in a steady rhythm while her mouth stays on yours. the angle hits perfectly every time. you come again with her name on your lips, nails digging into her back. she follows soon after, your thigh pressed between her legs, grinding until she shudders apart.

later you lie tangled together, her head on your chest, fingers tracing idle patterns over your ribs. rain taps against the window. the open box sits on the dresser like a witness.

“we can’t keep doing the almost thing,” you whisper into her hair. “not anymore. the hospital doesn’t have to know everything, but i need this to be real. us. properly.”

mel is quiet for a long moment. then she props herself up on one elbow, looking down at you with those dark, serious eyes. “i’ve been thinking about applying for that fellowship in seattle. it’s only a year. but if i go… i don’t want to go without you. we could figure something out. long distance done right this time.” your heart stutters. “you’d really leave pittsburgh?”

“for the right reasons,” she says softly. “for us. i kept that box because i couldn’t let you go. now i don’t have to.” you kiss her again, slower this time, full of promise. in the morning you’ll make coffee together while she hums megan thee stallion under her breath. you’ll go back to the er side by side, stealing glances in the break room, building something solid in the middle of chaos. the box will stay on the shelf, no longer hidden, a reminder of how long it took you both to get here.

outside the city keeps moving, sirens wailing in the distance, but inside her apartment the years of almost finally settle into something permanent. something worth keeping.

you fall asleep with her leg thrown over yours, her breath warm against your neck, and for the first time in years the future feels like something you get to choose together.

written by @snoopymelking

tagged: @eyek0ns , @grayyyz , @linziee , @rockangelsz , @nickswriting , @djosfool , @femmescars

[snoopymelking]

like you could love me

word count: 1,619

contains: slight angst, mutual pining, workplace romance tension in an er setting, descriptions of medical trauma and patient loss, neurodivergent sensory experiences, slow-burn, references to exhaustion and burnout, no smut

you stand in the dim glow of the pittsburgh trauma medical center break room at hour thirteen of the shift, the kind of hour where the fluorescent lights feel like needles and every beep from the monitors outside bleeds into your skull. the air smells like burnt coffee and antiseptic. your scrubs are stained with someone else’s blood from the last trauma, and your hands won’t stop shaking no matter how hard you clench them.

dr. mel king sits across from you at the small table, glasses slightly crooked on her nose, hair escaping its braid in soft strands that catch the light. she’s staring at the lukewarm cup of tea in her hands like it holds answers. she’s always like this after a rough case, quiet, processing, her empathy dialed up so high it sometimes looks like pain.

you can’t stop looking at her. she notices. of course she notices. mel notices everything, even the things people try to hide behind clipped words and professional masks.

“i wish you wouldn’t look at me like that,” she says suddenly, voice soft but edged with something raw. her fingers tighten around the mug. you blink, heart kicking up like you’ve just run a code. “like what?”

she hesitates, eyes flicking up to meet yours. those eyes, warm brown, always a little too open, like she’s never learned how to shutter them properly. “i don’t know.” a pause, long enough for the distant sound of a gurney rattling down the hall to fill it. “like you could love me.”

the words hang there between you, fragile as a suture line under too much tension. you feel them settle in your chest, heavy and warm and terrifying.

you’ve been working alongside mel for months now. transferred in as a nurse practitioner during the chaos of pittfest aftermath, thrown into the deep end with her on back to back shifts. you’ve seen her hyperfocus on a kid who swallowed a weed gummy, singing megan thee stallion under her breath in the ambulance bay to self regulate before diving in. you’ve watched her cry in the supply closet after losing a patient, not loud sobs but quiet, shuddering breaths like her body couldn’t contain the grief. she’s brilliant and awkward and so fucking kind it hurts.

and yeah, you’ve been looking at her. you can’t help it. “mel,” you start, voice low so it doesn’t carry beyond the door. the break room feels too small suddenly, the hum of the vending machine too loud. “i-”

“don’t.” she cuts you off gently, setting the mug down with careful precision. her hands are steady now, a doctor’s hands, but you see the faint tremor she tries to hide. “i’m not good at this. people. relationships. i get too much or not enough and it scares them off. my sister says i feel everything at eleven and everyone else is at three and it’s exhausting for them.”

you lean forward, elbows on the table. close enough to smell her shampoo, something clean and citrusy that cuts through the hospital stink. “i’m not scared.”

she laughs, a small, disbelieving sound. “you should be. i’m a second year resident who still misses social cues and stims with lyrics in my head during rounds. i stayed up last night researching autism advocacy groups for my sister’s new program instead of sleeping. that’s my life. this-” she gestures vaguely at the er chaos visible through the windowed door “-and her, and trying not to fall apart when a kid codes in front of me.”

you reach across the table slowly, giving her time to pull away. your fingers brush hers. she doesn’t. instead, her hand turns palm up, and you thread your fingers together. her skin is warm, callused from endless charting and procedures.

“i see you, mel,” you say. “all of it. the way you light up when a diagnosis clicks. how you advocate for every patient like they’re family. how you hum savage when you’re overwhelmed and think no one’s listening. i hear it. i see you.”

her breath catches. she looks at your joined hands like they’re a puzzle she can’t quite solve. “why? why look at me like that when you could have someone easier?”

“because easier isn’t you.” the words come out steady, even though your pulse is racing. the shift is grinding on, but right now the world narrows to this table, this woman with her crooked glasses and her enormous heart.

she bites her lip, considering. neurodivergent processing, you recognize it now, the way she needs time to turn thoughts over, examine every angle. you’ve learned her rhythms over these long shifts. learned when to push and when to wait.

finally she speaks again. “after the pittfest shooting… i couldn’t stop thinking about it. all those people. i kept replaying the sounds, the blood, the way that one girl looked at me like i could fix everything. i went home and sat with my sister and we didn’t talk for hours. just existed in the quiet. and then i came back here and you were there. you handed me coffee without asking. you covered my charting when i zoned out. you… stayed.”

you squeeze her hand. “i’m not going anywhere.” the door opens then, dr. langdon poking his head in, looking as wrecked as everyone else after the latest incoming. “king, we need you on the incoming mvc. multiple victims. you good?”

mel straightens, the resident mask sliding back into place, but not before she gives your hand one last press. “yeah. coming.” she stands, but pauses beside your chair. leans down close enough that her breath brushes your ear. “don’t stop looking,” she whispers. “just… maybe not where everyone can see how much it means.”

then she’s gone, ponytail swinging, scrubs swishing as she moves into the controlled chaos of the er. you follow a beat later, heart full and aching in equal measure.

the next hours blur. you work side by side, her calling orders with that quiet confidence, you anticipating needs before she voices them. when a patient crashes, her voice stays even but you catch her tapping a rhythm on her thigh under the gown. megan thee stallion beats, grounding her. you move closer, shoulder brushing hers as you hand over the defib pads. she doesn’t pull away.

later, in another stolen moment between cases, you find her in the stairwell. the one everyone uses for quick breaths or quiet breakdowns. she’s sitting on the steps, knees drawn up, forehead against her arms. you sit beside her without a word. the concrete is cold through your scrubs.

“that kid,” she says after a minute. “seventeen. looked just like my sister. internal bleeding we couldn’t catch in time.” you wrap an arm around her shoulders. she leans in immediately, like she’s been waiting for permission. her body is tense at first, sensory overload from the shift making touch tricky, but then she exhales and melts against you. head on your shoulder, hand finding yours again. “i wish i could turn it off sometimes,” she murmurs. “the feeling everything part.”

“i don’t,” you reply. “it’s what makes you you. and i…” you hesitate, echoing her earlier words. “i could love you. i do love parts of you already. the way you fight for your patients. the way you try so hard even when the world is loud and bright and too much.” she lifts her head. eyes searching yours in the dim emergency lighting. “say it again.”

“i could love you, mel king.” her smile is small, tentative, but real. the kind that reaches her eyes and makes the exhaustion lines soften. she leans in slowly, giving you every chance to stop her, and presses her lips to yours. it’s soft, hesitant, tasting of stale coffee and salt from unshed tears. her glasses bump your cheek and she laughs into the kiss, a bright, surprised sound that lights up the stairwell.

when you pull back, foreheads touching, she whispers, “i’ve never had someone look at me like that and mean it. not like this.”

“get used to it,” you tell her, thumb tracing her jaw. “because i’m going to keep looking. through the long shifts and the bad days and the megan thee stallion hype sessions in the ambulance bay.”

she kisses you again, surer this time. hands cupping your face like you’re something precious she doesn’t want to break. when you break apart, breathing a little harder, she rests her head on your shoulder once more.

“we should get back,” she says, but doesn’t move. “langdon will page us.” “five more minutes.” “okay.” her fingers trace patterns on your arm, small circles, repetitive, soothing. “five more.”

the stairwell door stays closed. the er hums on without you for a little while longer. in this pocket of quiet, amid the blood and beeps and burnout, something fragile begins to take root. not easy. never easy in a place like this. but real.

hours later, as the shift finally winds down toward morning light filtering through the trauma bay windows, you catch her eye across the nurses’ station. she’s charting, glasses slipping down her nose again, exhaustion written in every line of her body. but when she looks up, that same soft expression crosses her face.

you smile. she smiles back, small, private, full of promise. and you know, without a doubt, that you’ll keep looking at her exactly like that. like you could love her. like you already do. she mouths something across the distance. you read her lips.

“thank you.” you mouth back, “always.” the pitt never sleeps, but for once, in the middle of it all, neither do your hearts.

written by: @snoopymelking

tagged: @eyek0ns , @grayyyz , @linziee , @rockangelsz , @nickswriting , @djosfool , @femmescars

[snoopymelking]

— dr. melissa ‘mel’ kings instagram

contains: mel king and her lesbian lover

made by: @snoopymelking

taglist: @eyek0ns , @grayyyz , @linziee , @rockangelsz , @nickswriting , @djosfool , @femmescars

[pinkliliesandsnoopy]

That’s dada right there

(I need her so bad, like Cassie McKay save me)