Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Meredith Grey hated two things more than anything: early morning staff meetings and being told what to do with her body. So, when Bailey—now Chief Bailey—made it compulsory for all female staff to have their annual Pap smear updated in the system, Meredith considered rebellion.

Only Cristina’s smug, “It’s literally three minutes of your life, suck it up, Mer,” kept her from staging a protest.

The appointment was supposed to be quick, clinical, and forgettable. Assigned to an infamous OB/GYN named Dr. Lewis. Fine. Simple. Until the nurse walked in with a clipboard and a bright, oblivious smile.

“Dr. Lewis had to assist in an emergency delivery,” she chirped. “Dr. Montgomery will be taking over for her.”

Meredith’s heart did an Olympic-worthy somersault.

Of course it would be Addison Montgomery.

Gorgeous. Composed. Legs-for-days Addison, who strolled through Grey Sloan Memorial like the hallways bent for her, and who Meredith had been secretly—and pathetically—crushing on for the past several months.

Addison, who had no idea.

Meredith didn’t even have time to argue. The nurse left. The door clicked shut.

And then she was there—Addison in her white coat, red hair pulled back, reading the chart.

“Meredith.”

She looked up, eyes soft with surprise. “Hey.”

Meredith cleared her throat, trying to appear less like a woman wearing a paper-thin gown with her ass out. “Hi.”

“I can request someone else,” Addison said gently. “If you’re not comfortable.”

The kindness in her voice almost made Meredith say yes. But she was already here. Already bare under the gown. She and Addison had been good friends—best friends even—and she wanted to be the kind of person who didn’t care about things like this.

“It’s fine,” she said, too fast. “Let’s just—get it over with.”

Addison nodded, her expression unreadable. “Okay. I’m sure you’ve done this before, but I’ll still walk you through everything.”

Meredith tried not to notice the precise way Addison washed her hands. Or how her sleeves were rolled just enough to reveal the strength in her forearms. Or the way her gloved hands flexed. Or her goddamn perfume.

Fuck.

She tried not to breathe too deeply. Addison’s perfume was subtle but dangerous—clean, citrus, something sharp beneath. It was the scent of being seen and undressed all at once.

Addison was seated behind the rolling tray now, clipboard in hand, legs crossed, the image of professional detachment. She looked up, her tone neutral.

“I’ll start with a few basic intake questions before we begin. You probably already know the drill, but I have to ask.”

Meredith nodded, gown clutched around her chest like armor. “Go ahead.”

Addison clicked her pen. “Any recent pelvic pain?”

“No.”

“Unusual discharge?”

“No.”

“Changes in your cycle?”

“Nothing significant.”

Addison hesitated for half a second, then looked up—eyes calm, but focused.

“Are you currently sexually active?”

Meredith blinked.

What the fuck kind of question is that when I’m literally spread open in a gown that barely covers anything and you’re asking me that with your voice all low and calm like you don’t know exactly what that question is doing to me—

“No,” she answered, too quickly. Then paused. “I mean—rarely.”

Addison didn’t react, not really. Just made a soft noise and checked the box.

“With men? Women? Both?”

Meredith’s face burned. “Both,” she managed, swallowing. “Lately… women.”

Something unreadable flickered in Addison’s eyes.

“Protection used?”

“Yes.”

Addison clicked her pen again, finished the form, and stood. “Okay,” she said softly. “Feet in the stirrups. Let me know if anything feels uncomfortable.”

Meredith complied, eyes on the ceiling. The paper rustled beneath her as she settled back, trying not to look or think about the fact that Addison Montgomery was inches from the most intimate parts of her.

Cool air hit her thighs.

The pressure wasn’t the problem.

The problem was everything else.

Addison’s voice. Her hands. The way her fingers brushed Meredith’s inner thigh for balance. The way her breath touched the edge of Meredith’s hip.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.

Meredith gasped.

“You okay?” Addison asked, gentle, observant.

“Yeah,” Meredith croaked.

It was a lie. Her thighs trembled. Heat licked through her belly like slow poison. Her clit pulsed once—twice—nothing had touched it, but her body didn’t care.

She clenched down instinctively at the pressure inside her. Addison’s hand gently pressed on her inner thigh.

“Breathe,” Addison murmured. “Try to relax your muscles.”

Meredith forced herself to exhale. You’ve done this a dozen times, she reminded herself. This is normal. Routine.

But Addison’s fingers were resting just against her thigh, steadying her, and it was doing things to her head. The sensation of being so open, of Addison’s calm voice guiding her through the most intimate parts of her body—it shouldn’t have felt this… charged.

Addison gently rotated the speculum once, carefully spreading her open.

“You’ll feel a little pressure as I open it,” she said.

Meredith bit her lip as the metal expanded inside her, widening her more than she expected. It wasn’t pain—just a slow, stretching fullness that made her pulse between her legs throb faster. Her heels pressed slightly against the stirrups.

“I’m going to collect the sample now,” Addison said. “You may feel some light scraping. Just keep breathing.”

She reached for the cytobrush—a soft-tipped tool designed to gently sweep the cervix—and inserted it with practiced ease.

Meredith sucked in another breath as she felt it. That faint, unusual sensation deep inside—like the edge of something delicate brushing the wall of her body.

It was over in seconds. Addison didn’t rush, but she didn’t linger either. She moved with clinical rhythm, silent except for the faint rattle of a swab hitting the collection vial.

“Almost done,” Addison said. Her voice was gentle. Careful.

But her hand brushed the outer edge of Meredith’s labia as she guided the speculum back out. Meredith flinched at the contact—not from discomfort but from startle. From how good it felt. From how much slick had gathered at her entrance.

She saw Addison hesitate for the briefest second before discarding the instrument and removing her gloves.

“You did great,” Addison said, stepping back. “You can bring your legs down now.”

Meredith nodded and moved slowly, knees stiff. Her body was warm all over, and between her legs, she felt embarrassingly wet. She couldn’t even blame it on lube—there hadn’t been any. That slickness was entirely her own.

She sat up, tugging the gown over her knees, but didn’t meet Addison’s eyes.

Her best friend had just had her face between her thighs. And she had liked it.

A little too much.

But Addison said nothing.

She simply walked over to the sink, washed her hands again, and pulled out a fresh pair of gloves.

“I can proceed with the breast exam, if you’d like,” she said after a moment, voice neutral again.

Meredith blinked. Looked up.

Addison wasn’t looking at her—not quite. But her jaw was tight. Her fingers twitched at the wrist.

Meredith felt her own heart lurch.

She could say no. She could end this here.

But instead—

“Yeah,” Meredith said softly. “Finish it.”

Addison turned around, nodding once, eyes unreadable.

“Lie back. I’ll walk you through every step.”

Addison continued the exam with practiced grace, but Meredith was unraveling.

Something about the next step would be different.

Meredith felt it already, blooming under her skin like a warning.

Chapter Text

Addison turned around, nodding once, eyes unreadable.

“Lie back. I’ll walk you through every step.”

Meredith didn’t trust her legs to hold. She slid down against the table again, the paper crackling beneath her as she settled back into place. Her fingers twitched with nervous energy, fisting the thin fabric of the gown, pulling it tighter around her chest even though she knew what came next.

Addison stood to her right, her presence calm but looming.

“I’ll start with a visual inspection,” she said, snapping on a fresh pair of gloves. “Then I’ll palpate each breast for any lumps or irregularities.”

Meredith nodded once. Her voice had stopped working. Her tongue felt dry and useless in her mouth. The air in the room felt thicker now, like it knew what was coming too.

Addison stepped forward.

“Ready?”

Meredith gave a shallow nod.

Addison reached for the gown. “I’m going to lower the top now.”

Meredith didn’t stop her.

The paper rustled as Addison peeled it down—slow and clinical. First one shoulder, then the other, until the gown pooled at Meredith’s waist, baring her chest to the cool air and the even cooler silence that followed.

Her nipples were already tight.

Of course they were.

Addison’s breath didn’t hitch. Her gaze didn’t linger. But Meredith saw the subtle pause in her hands, the way her fingers hesitated for just a half-second before moving forward.

Addison’s palms came to rest lightly on her chest.

Meredith tensed—not from fear, not from modesty—but from the sudden intimacy of it. Addison’s hands were warm, firm, confident. Her touch was practiced, but the pressure was real. It wasn’t gentle for the sake of being nice—it was deliberate, knowing.

Meredith stared at the ceiling, heart pounding.

Addison moved in small, steady circles around the outer edge of her right breast, slowly working inward.

“You’ll feel some pressure,” she said, voice low. “Let me know if there’s any discomfort.”

None. Just arousal.

Meredith gritted her teeth. Her breath stuttered. Her nipples hardened further, straining against Addison’s gloved touch as her thumb grazed just a little too close.

She didn’t mean to react.

But she did.

A small, involuntary noise escaped her throat—half gasp, half whimper.

Addison stilled. “Are you okay?”

Meredith shut her eyes. “Yes. Fine. Just cold.”

Addison said nothing. She resumed the exam, switching to the left side. Her fingers moved in the same methodical pattern—around, in, over.

And then—

She brushed directly over Meredith’s nipple.

Meredith gasped, loud this time, and her hips jerked against the paper.

Her eyes snapped open in horror.

Addison looked up.

Meredith flushed. “Sorry—reflex—”

“Are you in pain?”

“No.” Meredith exhaled. “I’m just… sensitive.”

Addison’s hand hovered in place, her gaze never leaving Meredith’s.

“I can stop.”

Meredith shook her head before her brain even caught up. “No. Just… keep going.”

Addison nodded once.

And then she did something different.

Her fingers didn’t skim over anymore—they circled. Focused. Repeated. She tested pressure, angle, drag. Her thumb swirled once, twice, over Meredith’s left nipple, slow and deliberate.

Meredith’s breath fractured.

Her core clenched—nothing had touched her there, but her body reacted like it had. Heat surged between her legs. Her thighs twitched.

“Meredith,” Addison said softly, “you’re shaking.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Meredith bit her lip.

“You’ve never had an orgasm from breast stimulation, have you?” Addison asked quietly.

Meredith opened her mouth to deny it.

To scoff. To push the moment off the table like it hadn’t just happened.

“I’m not—” she started, voice tight. “That’s not what’s happening.”

Addison raised a single brow. “No?”

Meredith clenched her jaw. “It’s just—nerve endings, oversensitivity. It doesn’t mean—”

“Your thighs are trembling,” Addison said softly. “Your nipples are engorged. You’re flushed from your chest to your jawline, and your pelvic floor just contracted against absolutely nothing.”

Meredith blinked.

“I’m an OB/GYN, Grey,” Addison continued. Calm. Matter-of-fact. Like she was reading lab results. “And everything about your body right now says you're about to come.”

Meredith’s lips parted. No words came out.

Addison’s voice dropped an octave. “Let me give it to you.”

Meredith’s hips lifted off the table, instinctive and helpless.

“Let me,” Addison whispered. “Let me give it to you.”

And Meredith broke.

The tension coiled in her belly snapped like a live wire. Her thighs jerked. Her clit throbbed untouched. Her breath hitched—and she came.

Just like that.

No penetration. No friction. Just Addison’s hands, Addison’s voice, Addison’s presence.

Meredith gasped as her body shook—soft but real, the orgasm pulsing through her in waves.

Addison didn’t speak.

She didn’t tease.

She just watched—steady, reverent—as Meredith trembled through it, her back arching, her lips parted, nipples stiff under Addison’s palms.

When it passed, Meredith collapsed back, dazed.

Her eyes fluttered open.

Addison’s expression was unreadable. But her cheeks were flushed.

And she was breathing harder.

Meredith swallowed. Her throat felt tight. Her heart was still racing like she’d run a mile.

“I didn’t know that could happen,” she said softly.

“I did,” Addison said. “You just needed the right hands.”

They were quiet for a moment.

Meredith glanced down at herself. At Addison’s hands still resting on her chest. At the outline of something hard pressing behind Addison’s scrub pants.

She blinked.

“Addison,” she whispered.

Addison didn’t flinch. “Yeah?”

Meredith looked back up, eyes wide. “You’re… hard.”

Addison gave the faintest smile. “Soaked through my scrubs, yeah.”

Meredith’s breath caught. “Because of me?”

Addison tilted her head. “You think I’d get hard doing this for just anyone?”

Meredith’s lips parted.

Addison stepped back, peeled off her gloves, and turned to the sink.

“I told you I’d walk you through everything,” she said, voice calm again. “That was your first.”

Meredith blinked. “My what?”

Addison turned back, drying her hands.

“I’m a perfectionist,” she said. “Always have been.”

She paused, gaze steady.

“And ten’s my lucky number.”

Meredith stared.

Addison took one slow step forward.

“So I’ve decided,” she murmured. “I’m going to give you ten firsts.”

Meredith didn’t move.

Addison reached out again, this time not touching skin—just smoothing the gown gently back over her chest like she hadn’t just made her come with her hands.

“Get some rest,” Addison said, stepping back. “You’ll need it.”

Meredith lay frozen on the table, gown askew, thighs still slick, chest rising and falling like she was still trying to catch up to the reality she’d just been dropped into.

Ten firsts.

Addison Montgomery was going to ruin her.

And Meredith was already letting her.

Chapter Text

Meredith sat up slowly, limbs still trembling as she pulled the gown tighter around herself. Her mind felt disconnected from her body, like she was floating just outside her skin—watching, reeling, trying to make sense of what had just happened.

She had come.

From her breasts.

On a medical table.

With Addison Montgomery’s hands on her.

No. Not just hands. Presence. Voice. Pressure. Precision.

Addison was standing across the room, gloves off now, her hands clean and clasped in front of her like she hadn’t just rewritten the laws of Meredith’s body. She wasn’t gloating. Wasn’t smug. Just… patient.

Still the doctor. Still the one in control.

“Need some water?” Addison asked gently.

Meredith blinked, still breathless. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Addison poured from the pitcher beside the tray. The paper cup crinkled softly in her hand. When Meredith reached out, her fingers brushed Addison’s—and the contact made her shiver harder than the water did.

She drank.

Addison watched.

There was no question of leaving now. No rush to end it, no offer of a follow-up appointment. Whatever line they’d crossed, it wasn’t being walked back. It was being stepped into.

“I said ten,” Addison said at last, her voice smooth again, like silk pulled through fingers. “Are you ready for your second?”

Meredith nodded slowly.

Addison didn’t smile. Not quite. But her gaze darkened.

“Then lie back.”

She did.

Addison moved quietly—no sudden movements, no performance. She rolled on a fresh pair of gloves, added more paper under Meredith’s hips, and picked up a bottle of warmed lube from the tray.

“I want to stretch you,” Addison said, tone still clinical, but slower now. “Slowly. Safely.”

Meredith’s breath hitched. “Stretch me… how?”

Addison stepped between her legs again, one hand resting on her knee. “You’ll feel full. Too full, probably. But not hurt. I’ll prep you with my fingers first. Talk to me if anything feels off.”

Meredith gave a shaky nod. Her thighs parted. The paper gown rustled.

Addison’s gloved fingers brushed her outer lips—gentle, slow.

“You’re soaked,” she murmured. “Your body remembers.”

Meredith flushed hard. Her hips twitched at the contact, the lube mixing with her own slick as Addison spread her open carefully with two fingers.

“Just a gentle pressure,” Addison said.

And then she slipped in—just one finger at first.

Meredith moaned low, the heat of Addison’s touch drawing a fresh wave of arousal to the surface.

The second finger followed.

It didn’t hurt. Not really. But it was different—deeper, more deliberate. Addison didn’t thrust. She opened her. Pressed and curled. Spread and tested.

“I want to feel how much you can take,” Addison whispered. “And how badly you want to be filled.”

Meredith gasped as the third finger pushed in.

Her body fluttered, tight but eager, her muscles pulsing around Addison’s hand as the stretch built—slow, rhythmic, irresistible.

“Relax,” Addison said again, massaging her from the inside out. “Let me in.”

Meredith bit her lip.

Four fingers.

The pressure was dizzying now. Addison’s thumb was resting against her slick folds, not pushing—just there. Just promising.

“Addison,” she breathed. “I don’t—what are you—”

“You said yes,” Addison murmured. “I’m giving you number two.”

Her pinky slid along the edge of Meredith’s entrance.

And then she fisted her.

The full weight of Addison’s hand eased inside—slow, devastating, complete—until Meredith’s back arched off the table and a strangled, desperate moan ripped from her throat.

“F-fuck,” Meredith whimpered. “Oh my God—”

Addison didn’t move.

She just held her there—open, filled, trembling.

“You’ve never been this full,” Addison said softly. “Have you?”

Meredith couldn’t answer. Her body felt wrecked. Stretched. Owned.

“You’re gripping me so tight,” Addison whispered. “And I’m barely moving.”

Then she did.

A slow pull.

A gentle thrust.

And Meredith screamed.

The pleasure coiled again, tighter and hotter, her clit untouched but throbbing, her thighs trembling as Addison fucked her—slowly, reverently, from the inside out.

“Addison—Addison—I can’t—”

“You can,” Addison growled. “You’re doing it.”

Her palm dragged against Meredith’s walls, fingers curled just so, her other hand pressing down just above her pubic bone, grounding her.

Meredith shattered again.

This time louder.

Messier.

She came around Addison’s fist, sobbing, gushing, her body pulsing so hard it made Addison groan.

Meredith collapsed, wrecked and open, her chest heaving.

Addison didn’t withdraw immediately.

She leaned forward, her lips grazing Meredith’s temple.

“That,” she whispered, “was two.”

Chapter Text

Meredith’s thighs were still trembling when Addison moved between them again.

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed—minutes, maybe? Time had unraveled into something shapeless the second Addison’s fist had left her body. Her muscles were limp, her skin overheated, her mind barely catching up to the fact that she was still naked and wrecked on a medical exam table.

And Addison was still there.

Still steady.

Still… hard.

Addison reached for the waistband of her scrub pants. “Ready for number three?” she murmured.

Meredith blinked up at her, dazed and breathless.

Addison didn’t wait for an answer.

She slid her scrubs down—and Meredith’s breath hitched.

Because there it was.

Addison’s cock. Long, thick, flushed a deep red at the tip. Perfectly erect and slightly slick with pre-come. Heavy. Real.

Meredith's lips parted.

She'd known. Or at least suspected. But seeing it—hard, hungry, and aimed right at her—was something else entirely.

“This one’s simple,” Addison said, calm as ever. “It’s your first time taking me.”

She stepped between Meredith’s legs.

“Oh my god,” Meredith said, barely able to lift her voice. “You’re big—” She swallowed. “And hard, you’re unreal.”

Addison blushed. “Thanks. I’m clean, by the way. Full panel last month—negative across the board.”

Meredith blinked. “Me too. Negative panel. Two months ago.”

Addison paused, eyes scanning Meredith’s body. “But before that—are you on the pill?”

Meredith hesitated. Then shook her head. “No. I haven’t needed it. My last partner was a woman.”

Addison breathed in, slow and measured. “Alright. Then I’ll put condom on.”

She turned toward the drawer presumably to get a condom.

Meredith reached out—grabbed her wrist.

“No.”

Addison froze. “Meredith—”

“I want to feel you.”

Addison looked at her, stunned. “This isn’t dirty talk. This is real. You could get pregnant.”

“I know.”

The words tumbled out before she could stop them.

And with them, a flash of something—uninvited, impossible: a flicker of Addison between her legs months from now, pressing a hand to her stomach, whispering our baby. A flicker of soft onesies. Blue eyes. Red curls.

A fantasy she never let herself touch.

Not since the last time her uterus made sure no embryo stood a chance.

“I have a hostile uterus,” Meredith said, too fast, too rough. “Nothing ever sticks.”

Addison’s lips parted, startled.

Before she could respond—before she could say something gentle or medical or rational—Meredith yanked her forward by the hips.

Addison stumbled.

And Meredith guided the thick head of Addison’s cock right to her entrance.

“You’re not putting anything on,” she whispered. “You’re putting it in.”

And then she pushed her in.

No time.

No condom.

Just raw heat sliding into raw need.

The stretch was instant and full. Thicker than anything Meredith had taken before. Her cunt gave way slowly, walls fluttering around Addison’s cock in a slick, perfect pull.

“Fuck,” Meredith gasped. “Oh my god—”

Addison groaned, hands gripping Meredith’s thighs. “You’re… fuck, you’re soaking wet.”

“Don’t stop,” Meredith choked.

Addison didn’t.

She thrust—slow, deep, claiming.

Her cock dragged through Meredith’s walls in devastating rhythm, each movement pressing something deeper. Hotter.

Meredith could feel it in her spine. In her throat. In the bottom of her stomach.

“You feel—” Addison bit her lip, voice cracking, “you feel like you were made for this.”

Meredith whimpered.

Addison’s hips stuttered. She cursed, voice breaking.

“I’m close—I’m gonna—shit, I need to pull out—”

“No.”

Addison’s eyes flew open.

“Meredith—”

“I want it,” she said, voice sharper now. “I want you to come in me.”

“Fuck, you don’t know what you’re saying—”

“I do,” Meredith growled, locking her legs around Addison’s waist and dragging her deeper. Her cunt clenched down around Addison’s cock, holding her right there.

Then she reached up.

She slipped her hands under Addison’s shirt, pushed up her bra, and found her breasts.

Bare. Warm. Responsive.

Meredith’s thumbs rolled over both nipples—slow, firm strokes.

Addison gasped.

“You came just from touching mine,” Meredith whispered. “Let’s see how fast you go from me playing with yours.”

Addison shuddered. “Fuck, Meredith—”

Her thrusts lost rhythm—became needy, erratic, desperate.

Meredith pinched both nipples at once. Addison’s hips jerked.

“Let go,” Meredith breathed. “Come inside me.”

And Addison broke.

She slammed into her—once, twice—and came with a guttural cry, cock pulsing inside Meredith’s body, flooding her with wave after wave of heat.

Meredith felt it all. Every twitch. Every thick spill. Her cunt clenched again around Addison’s cock and she came one more time, a softer orgasm, high and shaky, riding the sensation of Addison filling her to the brim.

When Addison finally caught her breath, her voice was wrecked.

“That,” she whispered, “was three.”

Meredith smiled—slow, smug, satisfied.

“Was supposed to just be the first time I took your cock,” she murmured. “But look at that. Twisted it into a creampie.”

Addison let out a shaky breath, still buried deep inside her. “You are insufferable.”

Meredith’s cunt fluttered again, tight and wet around her.

“And you,” Meredith said, voice low and teasing, “are still inside me.”

Addison groaned.

“Guess that’s my win,” Meredith whispered.

Addison bit her lip, growled softly—and didn’t pull out.

Chapter Text

Meredith couldn’t feel her legs.

Her body was slick with sweat, her muscles heavy and slow, her chest rising and falling in erratic waves. The paper gown was bunched uselessly around her waist. Addison’s cock was still inside her—softening slowly but stubbornly staying where it belonged.

They hadn’t moved.

Not really.

Addison’s breath was still warm against her neck. Her hand rested on Meredith’s thigh like it lived there.

Meredith turned her head just enough to speak, but her voice came out raspier than expected. “You’re still in me.”

Addison didn’t move. “I know.”

“Not complaining,” Meredith added, because she wasn’t.

Addison’s fingers gently traced idle circles just above her knee.

“I could stay like this for hours,” she murmured.

Meredith let her eyes flutter shut for a second. “I don’t think I could get up if I tried.”

“That’s the point.”

A beat of silence passed between them.

Meredith could still feel it—everything. The fullness, the wetness. The ghost of Addison’s orgasm lingering inside her, seeping out with every twitch of her thighs. Her own climax still echoed somewhere in her hips, deep and low and heavy.

She should’ve felt used.

She felt owned.

And she didn’t want it to stop.

Ever.

Addison shifted.

Not away. Down.

She slid out of Meredith’s body slowly, inch by inch—and Meredith gasped, her hips rising instinctively, trying to follow the withdrawal. The stretch reversed with agonizing slowness until Addison’s cock slipped free with a wet sound that made both of them exhale.

Meredith’s breath hitched.

Because Addison was still hard.

Her cock hung flushed and twitching between her thighs, glistening with a mix of slick and cum. Meredith could see her own arousal smeared down Addison’s shaft—and Addison’s cum leaking back out of her, slick and white and dripping in slow trails from her stretched, red pussy.

The mess between her thighs looked obscene.

It looked perfect.

“You ever squirt before?” she asked casually, like they were chatting in the break room.

Meredith blinked. “What?”

Addison’s expression didn’t change. “Squirting. You ever done it?”

Meredith gave a breathless laugh. “Isn’t that a porn thing?”

“Not always.”

“Right,” Meredith muttered. “Next you’ll tell me there’s a G-spot too.”

“There is,” Addison said, rubbing lube between her fingers. “And I know exactly where yours is.”

“You’re serious.”

Addison just smiled.

She reached for the lube again—not a medical dab this time, but a generous coat—then knelt between Meredith’s legs.

Addison leaned down, pressed her hand just above Meredith’s pelvis. “There.”

“What?”

“That’s where I’m going next,” Addison murmured. “Your G-spot.”

Meredith shook her head, exhausted and wrecked. “You think you can just… make that happen?”

“I don’t think,” Addison said, leaning in. “I know.”

And then she slid two fingers back inside.

Meredith was still soaked. Still open. Her body took Addison’s fingers like it had been waiting for them all along.

The curl was precise.

The pressure immediate.

“Right there,” Addison whispered.

Meredith twitched.

Addison grinned.

“You feel that?”

“Yes,” Meredith hissed.

Then came the rhythm. Not teasing. Not slow.

Focused. Repetitive. Deep.

Addison stroked against the soft spongy swell of Meredith’s front wall with perfect, practiced precision. Her other hand came down, thumb brushing over Meredith’s clit—not firm, not aggressive. Just there.

The pressure built fast—too fast.

Meredith’s voice cracked. “Addison—wait—I—I think I’m gonna pee.”

Addison didn’t flinch. “That’s normal. That’s what it feels like right before.”

“No—seriously—Addison—stop, I can’t—”

“You can,” Addison murmured. “You’re safe. Let go.”

But Meredith didn’t.

Her body tried to hold it back—clenching down, legs shaking, fighting the inevitable.

Which only made it worse.

Addison didn’t let up.

She adjusted her angle, stroked harder, pressed deeper.

Meredith sobbed. “I can’t—oh my god—”

And then it happened.

Her muscles seized.

Her hips bucked.

A high-pitched cry tore from her throat—then a sudden, unstoppable rush of wet heat sprayed from between her legs, soaking Addison’s hand and splashing across her scrubs.

“Oh—fuck—”

It didn’t stop.

Addison kept going. Curling. Stroking. Milking it from her.

Meredith came again—squirting hard, the release shaking her whole body. More arousal gushed from her, coating Addison’s wrist, spraying in warm pulses against her chest and thighs.

“You’re doing so fucking good,” Addison whispered. “Such a good girl.”

Meredith cried out again. Another gush.

Her body broke. Fully, helplessly broke.

It was everywhere.

Addison’s fingers slowed—but she didn’t stop until Meredith was done. Until the final twitch ran through her legs. Until the last drip slid free and landed, hot and wet, on the table below.

Meredith collapsed.

Her chest heaved. Her throat was raw.

And when she finally opened her eyes—

Addison was still kneeling between her thighs.

Cock still hard.

Still leaking.

“You’re still hard,” Meredith rasped.

Addison met her eyes.

“I haven’t even started, Grey.”

Chapter Text

Meredith didn’t remember closing her eyes.

She just knew they were closed now—lids heavy, body boneless, sweat cooling against her temples as her thighs twitched in the aftermath. The room was too quiet, too wet, too full of her own breath catching in her throat. She was sticky. Sore. And completely undone.

Addison hadn’t left her side.

She was still kneeling between Meredith’s thighs, hands slick and trembling, chest stained with Meredith’s release, eyes dark with something dangerous and patient.

Neither of them spoke.

Until Addison leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the inside of Meredith’s knee. Then another. And another.

“I should let you rest,” Addison murmured, voice quiet but not uncertain.

Meredith cracked one eye open. “Don’t you dare.”

That earned a smile. A real one.

Addison leaned forward again, just enough for her cock—still maddeningly hard—to brush over the mess between Meredith’s legs.

They both felt it.

Meredith whimpered.

“Still want more?” Addison teased.

Meredith nodded slowly, throat dry. “Yeah.”

Addison arched a brow. “You said ten. That means I’m only halfway done.”

Meredith’s breath hitched. “Then do it.”

Addison kissed her stomach once. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

Addison didn’t hesitate.

She reached for a drawer and pulled out a toy—sleek, black, curved just right. Meredith’s eyes went wide.

“Addison—”

“You ever had both at once?” Addison asked, already applying lube, voice calm like she was reading lab results.

Meredith shook her head.

Addison smiled. “Number five.”

She slid the toy in first—carefully, shallowly, letting Meredith adjust. Then she stroked her cock once, still wet with earlier release, and lined herself up at Meredith’s soaked entrance.

Meredith whimpered as Addison pushed in again—slow, hot, thick—and the stretch of both filled her in a way that made her eyes roll back.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “I can’t—”

“You can,” Addison said. “You’re doing so good.”

The pressure was overwhelming.

Addison rocked into her slowly, the toy moving inside her with each thrust, hitting nerves Meredith didn’t know existed.

She couldn’t think. Could barely breathe.

“Don’t come yet,” Addison whispered, voice low against her ear. “You’re not allowed.”

Meredith whined—hips twitching, core tightening around both intrusions.

Addison didn’t let up. She fucked her slow. Then hard. Then slow again. Toy and cock sliding in tandem, pulling Meredith right to the brink.

And holding her there.

“Please—Addie—”

“No,” Addison said simply. “Not yet.”

Meredith clawed at the table. “I’m gonna come—fuck—I can’t—”

“You can,” Addison murmured. “But you won’t.”

And somehow, she didn’t.

She held it.

Her body trembled. Her voice broke. She begged.

And Addison edged her again.

And again.

Until Meredith snapped.

“I want it,” she cried. “I want you to fill me again. Want to feel it take.”

Addison’s rhythm stuttered.

Meredith didn’t even realize what she said until it was out. “I want you to knock me up,” she whispered, voice shaking. “Want to feel full and pregnant and yours.”

Addison’s breath caught.

She didn’t stop moving. Didn’t slow. But her voice dropped—hoarse. Honest.

“I can’t.”

Meredith’s eyes opened.

Addison was still moving inside her, but slower now. Raw.

“My sperm count’s low,” she said quietly. “Always has been. I’ve never been able to get anyone pregnant.”

Meredith blinked, stunned by the tenderness in her voice. “But—”

“I wish I could,” Addison said, thrusting in a little deeper. “Wish I could give you that. Fill you and know it would take.”

Meredith’s throat tightened. “You’re still giving me everything.”

Addison’s lips brushed hers. “You ready to come now?”

Meredith nodded, tearful.

Addison fucked her harder.

And this time—she didn’t stop her.

Meredith shattered with a cry, the orgasm crashing through her, cock and toy still deep, both claiming her at once.

And Addison came too—groaning, body taut, cock spilling inside her for the second time that day.

They collapsed together in the wet, sticky mess of it—too full, too close, and still not done.

Chapter Text

Addison slid out of Meredith with a slow, wet pull, and the sound alone made Meredith shiver. The slick, sticky drag of her cock parting from Meredith’s body echoed in the quiet room—and then came the aftershock.

A rush of heat followed. Thick and unmistakable.

Meredith felt it before she saw it: Addison’s release, still warm, slipping out of her in lazy trails and dripping toward the table. Her thighs tensed instinctively.

“Fuck,” Meredith whispered.

Addison looked down at the mess, then up at Meredith’s flushed, dazed expression.

“You’re leaking,” she murmured, almost reverent. “I love how messy you get for me.”

Meredith’s face went even redder.

Addison didn’t tease. Not cruelly. She just touched—light pressure over Meredith’s thigh, her palm lingering.

“I think we should give her a rest,” she said softly, her gaze dropping to Meredith’s overstimulated pussy. “But I’m not done with you.”

Meredith exhaled shakily. “No?”

“No.”

Addison reached for the lube.

Meredith’s eyes widened. Her breath hitched as Addison spread it between her hands.

“Have you ever done this before?” Addison asked, her tone quieter now—measured. “Anal play?”

Meredith swallowed. “No.”

Addison nodded once, gently. “Okay.” Then, without pushing, without assuming, she asked, “Do you want to?”

The room paused.

Meredith looked at her. At the lube. At Addison’s fingers glistening in the low light. Then back at her face—steady, waiting, absolutely not moving forward unless the answer was yes.

Meredith nodded.

“Yes,” she said, voice thin but sure. “I trust you.”

Addison smiled—not smug, not dominant, just warm. “Good.”

She stepped back between Meredith’s thighs and leaned in, her voice softer now. “Tell me if you need to stop at any point. If it’s too much. If you change your mind.”

Meredith nodded again. “Okay.”

Addison kissed the inside of her thigh. “You’re doing so well already.”

She started with a single fingertip—coated in lube, gentle, slow, circling over the tight ring of muscle until Meredith relaxed beneath her. Addison took her time, patient and confident, whispering praise and pressing light kisses to Meredith’s skin.

“You’re so tight,” she breathed. “So good for me.”

When the first knuckle slipped in, Meredith gasped—but it wasn’t fear. It was heat. Pressure. The strange, slow pull of being opened somewhere new.

“Keep breathing,” Addison murmured. “You’re doing perfect.”

A second finger joined the first. More stretch. More slick. Meredith’s hips twitched, but she didn’t pull away.

Addison moved carefully—pressing deeper, curling gently, stroking the inner walls with precision she’d learned from both science and instinct.

Meredith moaned—lower, guttural.

“Too much?” Addison asked.

“No,” Meredith gasped. “Not enough.”

Addison’s eyes darkened.

“You really are filthy,” she whispered. “So full you’re still leaking me—and now you want more.”

The blush across Meredith’s cheeks bloomed deeper. She couldn’t deny it. Not with the sounds her body was making. Not with how her muscles pulsed around Addison’s fingers.

“Come for me,” Addison whispered. “Let it go.”

And Meredith did.

The orgasm tore through her—hot, sudden, wild. Her thighs snapped closed and then opened again, her body jerking with release as her muscles clenched hard around Addison’s fingers.

And with it—came a wet rush.

Pressure gave way.

A thick mix of cum—Addison’s and her own—spilled out in another gush, slick and obscene. It smeared the table, ran down the backs of her thighs. Meredith moaned, overwhelmed, her whole body quaking from the release.

Addison didn’t move right away.

She let Meredith ride it out.

Then she pulled her fingers free, slowly, reverently, and wiped her clean with the gentleness of someone tending to something sacred.

She kissed the inside of her thigh again.

“That,” she whispered, “was six.”

Chapter Text

Meredith’s thighs were still trembling.

Her whole body pulsed with aftershocks—nerve endings raw, skin flushed, her voice hoarse from the moans she hadn’t meant to make. Her hair clung to her damp temples. Her arms were too weak to lift.

And Addison?

Addison was watching her like she was the most sacred, wrecked thing in the world.

“You’re still hard,” Meredith whispered.

Addison nodded once. “I know.”

The air between them shifted. Heavier. Charged.

“I want more,” Meredith said softly.

“You sure?” Addison asked, voice gentling.

Meredith didn’t blink. “It was six. Give me something I haven’t felt.”

Addison moved like silk and thunder all at once. She leaned in, kissed Meredith’s knee, and then her thigh, and then the slick, flushed skin between her legs—still swollen, still pink from everything they’d already done.

Then she pulled back and looked Meredith in the eye.

“Has anyone ever taken you to the cervix before?” Addison asked, her tone unreadable.

Meredith blinked at her, dazed. “No.”

She hesitated—then quietly, “You can?”

Addison’s eyes darkened. “Yes.”

She leaned in, brushing a hand up Meredith’s thigh. “But only if you want me to. And if it gets to be too much—you tell me.”

Meredith’s breath caught. “I’ll tell you.”

“Good,” Addison murmured, voice dropping lower. “Then I’m going to ruin you in a way no one else has.”

She guided Meredith to the edge of the table, lifted her hips with care, and aligned herself.

She didn’t thrust—not yet. Just let the head of her cock rest at Meredith’s entrance. Slick, heavy, warm.

“Relax,” she murmured. “Let me show you what it feels like to be taken that deep.”

Her voice stayed soft, but her eyes didn’t waver. “I want you to remember this.”

The first few inches slid in easily—Meredith was wet, open, wrecked in all the right ways. But Addison didn’t stop there.

She moved slowly. Purposefully.

Every inch deeper sent Meredith higher. Her breath hitched. Her legs shook. Her nails gripped the edge of the table.

And then—

Addison’s hips stilled.

Meredith’s body tightened.

There was pressure. A different kind of pressure.

A limit.

Addison didn’t push—she paused there, resting against it.

“Is that—”

“Your cervix,” Addison murmured, grinding deeper, her voice velvet-dark.

Meredith gasped, eyes wide. “Wow. I’ve never been touched like that before.”

“Good,” Addison whispered. “Because I want to be the only one who ever does.”

She stayed there—barely moving—just pressing against that sensitive place, letting Meredith feel the stretch, the tension, the burn of being filled all the way.

It wasn’t pain. Not exactly.

It was more than that.

It was too much. And exactly right.

Meredith moaned—deep, ragged, raw.

“Please,” she whispered. “Don’t stop.”

Addison didn’t.

She rocked in tiny, deliberate motions, hips grinding, her cock nudging the entrance to Meredith’s womb with every shift.

Meredith’s voice broke. Her orgasm built slowly—no clit, no hands, just pressure. Just depth. Just that aching, unbearable stretch against the place she hadn’t even known could respond like this.

Addison never looked away from her. Not once.

She watched every tremble, every twitch of muscle. Her eyes softened as Meredith’s body climbed toward something wordless, something raw and aching. Her thumb gently stroked over Meredith’s hip—not pushing, just anchoring her.

And then—Meredith fell.

It was quiet. No scream. No sob.

Just a slow collapse.

A full-body quake.

Her breath stuttered. Her mouth opened but no sound came. And when her orgasm finally broke loose, it didn’t crash—it deepened. Her body locked, then melted. She was shaking, panting, tears blooming at the corners of her eyes before she even realized they were there.

Addison leaned in and kissed her forehead. Her temple. Her jaw.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered. “You’re okay. Let it happen.”

She held her through it—completely still inside her—until Meredith’s arms found the strength to wrap around her neck and pull her down.

“Was that—?” Meredith croaked.

Addison smiled against her cheek, utterly wrecked by the sight of her. “That was seven.”

Chapter Text

Addison hadn’t moved since the last wave of Meredith’s orgasm faded. She stayed curled against her, arms cradling Meredith’s hips, their bodies still flush, skin damp and slick from everything that had passed between them. Her chest rose and fell steadily—controlled, as always. Graceful even in stillness.

Meredith blinked up at the ceiling, barely able to catch her breath, but aware of the shift settling in her chest. Something different stirred there now—no longer just need, or even relief. It was steadier. Anchored.

Her lips curved.

“I want to give you number eight,” she said softly.

Addison looked up—just her eyes at first, then the rest of her, propping herself up on one elbow. “Yeah?”

Meredith nodded, her voice quiet but sure. “You’ve given me so much. Let me give this to you.”

Addison’s brows lifted slightly. “What do you want to give me?”

Meredith didn’t flinch. “I want to be on top. I want to ride you.”

A flicker passed across Addison’s face. Not hesitation exactly—but something like vulnerability.

She exhaled slowly. “I’ve never really let anyone…” Her voice dropped, softer than Meredith had ever heard it. “It’s hard. Being the one underneath... the bottom”

Meredith stayed quiet, letting her speak.

“I’ve always held the power. In surgery. In bed. Everywhere.” Addison gave a small, almost humorless laugh. “Control isn’t just comfort—it’s survival.”

She looked down, then back up. Her voice was steady, but low. “Most people don’t think enough to take care of me. And I’ve never felt safe enough to let them try.”

Her fingers curled lightly against Meredith’s thigh.

“But you make me feel safe,” she said. “Even when I’m coming apart. Especially then.”

Meredith swallowed. Her heart swelled, stretched.

“Then let me,” she whispered. “Let me hold it for once.”

Addison nodded, once.

Meredith sat up slowly, brushing damp strands of hair from her forehead. She ran her fingers over Addison’s collarbone, pausing at the hollow of her throat. “Lie back.”

Addison did.

She stretched out beneath Meredith, curls mussed, lips parted, chest still rising with a surgeon’s poise—until Meredith straddled her hips, palms framing her ribs.

“Breathe,” Meredith whispered.

Addison let out a shaky exhale.

Meredith leaned down, pressing a kiss just under her jaw, then her neck, then the soft slope of her shoulder. She kissed like she was mapping Addison’s body—slow, sure, patient.

When her mouth reached Addison’s chest, Addison inhaled sharply. Her hands twitched against the sheets, but she didn’t move. Meredith kissed her there too.

“You don’t have to hold it in,” Meredith murmured. “I want to hear you.”

Addison’s throat worked. “I’m not used to—”

“I know.” Meredith’s hand slid down her stomach, fingers drawing lazy shapes. “That’s why this is number eight.”

The shift was subtle but total. Addison—always composed, always in command—let go. Not in a dramatic collapse, but gradually. Her breathing changed first—shorter, less controlled. Then her hands, usually precise and purposeful, fumbled slightly, fingers curling helplessly in the sheets. Her eyes darted to Meredith’s face, like she was waiting for permission to break.

Meredith gave it. Not with words, but with touch—with the way her hands skimmed down Addison’s sides, anchoring her, steadying her. With the way her mouth trailed slow kisses along Addison’s collarbone, not taking, just claiming gently. The flush that spread across Addison’s chest wasn’t from exertion this time—it was surrender.

And Meredith? She didn’t rush. She didn’t tease.

She worshipped.

She touched Addison like she was made of something sacred and rare. Every caress was deliberate. Every movement designed to unravel her slowly, with care.

Addison arched for her—gasped under her—let the sounds come without biting them back.

Meredith smiled against her skin, lips brushing Addison’s sternum. “I like you like this,” she whispered. “Falling apart for me.”

Addison made a sound—half plea, half curse. Her fingers gripped Meredith’s arms like she didn’t trust herself to float.

Meredith kissed the center of her chest again and stayed there, letting her own breath slow with Addison’s. Letting control become a gift, not a weapon. Letting Addison feel, for once, what it meant to be held instead of holding everyone else together.

And when Addison finally broke—back arching, hands gripping Meredith’s wrists, voice hoarse and unraveling—Meredith didn’t let up.

She moved with her. Guided her. Her fingers stayed laced with Addison’s, anchoring her to the table as her hips rolled in a rhythm that was slow, controlled, and unrelenting.

Addison was gasping now, lost in it. Her control gone. Her head tilted back, throat bare and exposed as if offering herself up fully—mind, body, soul.

Meredith shifted her angle—subtle, practiced, intentional. She lifted slightly and then sank back down with precision, grinding her hips forward until she felt it—deep pressure, deeper than before. Addison’s cock brushed her cervix, and Meredith moaned low at the sensation, intense and grounding.

Addison’s whole body jolted beneath her like she’d been struck by lightning. Her head tipped back sharply, a desperate cry tearing from her throat.

“Meredith—fuck—”

Her hands scrabbled up Meredith’s back, fingers digging into her shoulder blades hard enough to leave marks. Her nails raked down, involuntary, chasing the edge of something wild and completely unhinged.

“You feel that?” Meredith whispered, lips brushing Addison’s temple.

Addison gasped. “Yes—oh god, yes—don’t stop—”

Meredith didn’t. She angled her hips again, slow and relentless, pressing down until Addison was nudging her cervix with every grind.

“I want you to come like this,” Meredith breathed. “Right here. As deep as you can go.”

Addison made a noise—half sob, half growl. Her thighs trembled, hips rising to meet each push, chasing it, needing it. “I—can’t—hold it—”

“Then don’t.”

Addison’s eyes flew open, wide and wet, and she shouted Meredith’s name—loud, broken, like it had ripped straight from her core. Her body seized under Meredith, hands flying back to her waist, gripping, grounding, scratching to anchor herself.

And then she came.

Hard.

Her back arched off the table. Her mouth opened in a silent scream. Her entire body convulsed as she poured into Meredith, cock pulsing deep against her cervix, filling her with heat that Meredith swore she could feel in her throat.

Meredith didn’t stop. She rocked through it, steady, reverent, guiding Addison down from the edge without letting her fall. She kissed her through it. Whispered to her. Anchored her.

And Addison let it happen.

She let go.

When it was over, she was shaking. Her hands were still fisted in Meredith’s back, clutching at her like she’d break into pieces otherwise.

Her lips parted but no words came out—just the wet, ragged sound of someone who had never come like that in her life.

Meredith leaned down and pressed their foreheads together, both of them soaked and trembling and full.

“That was eight,” she whispered.

Chapter Text

Addison was still catching her breath beneath her, chest flushed, lips parted, hands loose around Meredith’s back. Her whole body trembled in quiet aftershock—wrecked, open, still deep inside her.

Meredith didn’t move right away. She stayed where she was, forehead resting to Addison’s, their sweat mingling, her body still pulsing around Addison’s cock. She hadn’t come. Not yet. But she hadn’t needed to—not then. Not when Addison was falling apart beneath her.

But now—

Now her own body was demanding attention. Her muscles ached with restraint. Her thighs trembled from holding on too long.

She slowly sat back, lifting herself just enough to slip off of Addison, and they both groaned at the drag, at the slick heat that followed. The moment Addison’s cock slipped free, Meredith felt it—warm, thick release trailing after, spilling out of her in slow, messy streaks down the inside of her thighs.

It was obscene. Raw. The aftershock of everything they’d done made visible between them.

She glanced down, breath catching at the sight—her body flushed and used and still pulsing, Addison’s cum leaking out of her in a wet line that glistened in the low light.

Her thighs clenched automatically. She was still trembling. Still unsatisfied. Still teetering on the edge of something she hadn’t yet claimed for herself.

And then—her eyes lifted to the mirror.

“Come here,” she said, voice still breathless. “I want you to see something.”

Addison blinked up at her. “What?”

Meredith offered her hand. “Me. Us.”

Addison took it.

They moved together—slow, unsteady—to the edge of the table where Meredith stood now, facing the mirror, Addison behind her, arms looping low around her waist.

The reflection was brutal and honest and everything in between. Meredith—flushed, open, sweat-slicked, cum leaking down her thigh and visibly aching. Addison, behind her, eyes already locked on her like she was seeing something sacred.

“I can’t stop looking at you,” Addison said, voice rough. “Do you see yourself right now?”

Meredith swallowed hard.

“I look—”

“Wrecked,” Addison finished for her. “Beautiful. Completely mine.”

Their eyes met in the mirror.

Addison shifted behind her, brushing kisses along Meredith’s spine, her shoulder, her neck. One hand slid down between Meredith’s thighs while the other reached up, guiding her chin to tilt—forcing her to watch.

And Meredith did.

She watched her own face as Addison touched her. Watched the flush rise in her chest, the way her mouth fell open. Watched her own body lean back into Addison like it belonged there.

“You’ve haven’t cum,” Addison whispered. “Let me fix it.”

Meredith nodded once, wordless.

Addison’s hand moved with reverence—slow, knowing, coaxing her open again. She kissed Meredith’s temple once, then slid her hand down, guiding Meredith’s thighs further apart with a subtle nudge of her knee. Meredith followed instinctively, spreading her legs until she felt the cool air brush between them—until she was open, exposed, trembling in place.

Then—Addison did it. Reached down, her fingers slipping through the slick mess coating Meredith’s center, and used her thumbs to part her folds with aching care. Meredith jolted, her breath catching sharply as Addison opened her wide—deliberate, intimate—baring her fully to the mirror’s reflection.

“Look,” Addison breathed. “Look at you. Look at what we’ve done.”

Meredith couldn’t look away. The mirror didn’t flinch. It reflected everything back—her flushed skin, her parted thighs, the wet gleam between her legs. She watched as Addison’s thumbs pulled her open, revealing the pink, swollen ache of her clit and the creamy evidence of their earlier release still leaking out of her. She looked ruined. Drenched. Beautiful. And so undeniably wanted.

Addison held her open with one hand, and with the other, she circled her clit with a reverence that nearly undid her.

“That’s it,” Addison murmured, her voice a rasp of hunger and awe. “So fucking gorgeous like this. All of you. All mine.”

Meredith’s arms trembled, white-knuckled, as she gripped the edge of the exam table. Her muscles burned, coiled tight, hips jerking helplessly toward the touch. She was too full of sensation to speak, her throat tight with the rising wave of it—need, heat, desperation.

And still, she watched.

The mirror gave her everything—her own face, slack with pleasure; her chest, flushed and heaving; her thighs, slick and trembling as Addison worked her. She saw Addison’s hand moving between her legs with deliberate, relentless rhythm, saw her own body rock into it like it couldn’t bear to be still.

And behind her, Addison watched too. Their eyes met in the mirror—Addison’s gaze hungry, soft, possessive. Meredith’s wide, glassy, undone.

She let out a sound—small, choked, like she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“It’s okay,” Addison said, her mouth brushing her ear. “Let go for me, baby. Let me see it.”

And Meredith shattered.

Her orgasm hit like lightning—white-hot, blinding. Her head snapped back against Addison’s shoulder, her mouth opening in a silent cry as her whole body convulsed. And she saw it. Saw it happen in real time. A sudden rush of fluid sprayed out of her, sharp and wet and uncontrollable, drenching Addison’s hand, her inner thighs, the floor below. Her legs trembled violently as the last of it spilled out—clear, glistening, wild—mixing with the slow, creamy drips of Addison’s cum that were still trailing from her entrance.

The sight was obscene. Divine. A claiming made visible.

Meredith sobbed out a breath, body jerking as the waves kept coming. She wasn’t just letting go. She was pouring out. Every ache. Every need. Every held breath that Addison had coaxed from her body with nothing but hands and patience and love.

Addison held her through it—arms tight around her waist, grounding her even as Meredith trembled with release. One hand pressed over her lower belly, possessive and steady. The other moved up to hold her chest, feeling every pulse beneath her skin.

When it was over, Meredith’s knees nearly gave. She let her eyes flutter closed, mouth still open in a breathless gasp. Her body was shaking. Her legs were soaked. Her thighs slick with sweat, cum, and the unmistakable evidence of her own surrender.

Addison’s lips brushed her temple, slow and reverent.

“You came so hard for me,” she whispered. “God, Meredith. You’re unreal.”

And Meredith, still catching her breath, could only nod faintly—unable to speak, but knowing she’d never forget what she just saw. What she just felt. What she just gave.

But then—she felt it.

Thick and hard again, pressed against her lower back.

Her breath hitched. “You’re hard again?”

Addison chuckled, voice low in her ear. “I wasn’t joking about the ten.”

Meredith turned her head slightly, looking at their reflection. Addison’s body was flushed, spent, and somehow ready again—cock twitching where it rested just below the curve of Meredith’s spine.

“How is that even possible?” she whispered, more awed than teasing now.

Addison’s hands moved to her hips, steady. “It’s you,” she said simply. “You make me like this.”

And just like that—Meredith’s body lit up again.

Addison guided her forward, just a step, until Meredith’s thighs met the edge of the table, cool wood pressing against tender skin. The mirror framed them completely—bodies aligned, skin flushed, the wreckage of pleasure still glistening between her legs. Addison’s hands settled on her hips first, steadying, grounding—then slowly, achingly slowly, she slid the head of her cock through the slippery mess of Meredith’s folds.

Meredith gasped at the contact—raw, overstimulated, still pulsing from her last release. The slick glide against her entrance made her shudder. She braced herself against the table, eyes flicking to the mirror as Addison began to press in, thick and deliberate, parting her inch by inch.

There was no rush. No urgency. Just heat. Just gravity.

“Addie—” Meredith breathed, voice cracking on the edge of disbelief and need.

Addison leaned forward, her lips brushing the shell of her ear, her chest pressing flush to Meredith’s back. “Look,” she whispered, her voice a command and a confession all at once. “Watch what you do to me.”

Meredith looked.

She watched herself take Addison in—watched her own body open again around her, slow and yielding, until she was filled completely. Watched the moment Addison bottomed out, hips meeting the curve of her ass, her cock sheathed deep and perfect where Meredith needed her most. And then—her breath hitched. She saw it. In the mirror, just beneath the curve of her navel, a faint but unmistakable bulge pressing outward with each deep thrust. Addison was that deep—so deep she could see the shape of her inside her, stretching her, claiming space that no one else ever had.

“Oh my god,” Meredith gasped, hand instinctively sliding to her belly, pressing lightly over the spot where Addison pulsed inside her.

Addison's voice dropped to a gravelly whisper, thick with awe and something deeper. “I’ve never been this deep in anyone,” she said, like it stunned her too. “I’ve never wanted to be. I’ve never let myself.”

Meredith's eyes lifted to meet hers in the mirror, wide and glistening, her hand still resting over the outline of Addison inside her.

“I know I have a low sperm count,” Addison murmured, voice softer now, almost reverent as her palm flattened over Meredith’s own, their fingers interlacing over the mark of where they met. “And I’ve never risked it. Not once. Never came inside anyone—not really. Didn’t want to.”

Her breath caught, but she didn’t stop moving. Her thrusts stayed slow, deep, steady—each one driving her confession home.

“But you…” Addison swallowed. “You make me forget every rule I set for myself. You make me want the risk. Because it’s you.”

Meredith whimpered, her whole body tightening around her. Her knees buckled slightly, her chest heaving, not just from the pleasure but from the truth of it—Addison’s words, her restraint undone, her love pouring out in the most devastating way.

“Addie…”

“I’m all the way in,” Addison whispered, forehead brushing Meredith’s temple. “And I don’t ever want to leave.”

Meredith moaned, body trembling, eyes wide and locked on the reflection of her hand splayed across her abdomen. The outline flexed slightly beneath her palm with every slow, deliberate stroke. She looked full. Owned. Completely taken.

Addison moved with reverence—each thrust long, unhurried, and devastatingly deep. The kind of rhythm that spoke of worship, not just want. Her hips rolled forward, withdrawing just enough to build friction, then sliding back in with aching precision. Meredith felt every inch of it—every drag, every push, every swell of pressure blooming in her core again.

And in the mirror—

She saw herself unraveling.

Addison’s hands weren’t still for long. They slid up from her hips, fingers tracing her belly, her ribs, palms skimming over sensitive, sweat-damp skin. One hand found her breast, cupping it gently, thumb grazing over the peaked nipple. The other rose higher, curling around her throat—not tight, not forceful, just present. Possessive. Protective. Anchoring her in every way that mattered.

Meredith leaned into it—arched into it. Her spine curved, her body yielding as Addison rocked into her again and again, and her gaze never left the mirror. She saw her own expression shift, saw the way her lips parted, saw her cheeks flush deeper with every thrust. She saw Addison behind her, eyes dark and locked on her reflection like she was witnessing something holy.

“That’s it,” Addison murmured, her voice rough with awe. “Just like that. You’re so beautiful like this. Mine.”

Meredith whimpered, hips rolling back into Addison’s rhythm. Her hands scrabbled for purchase on the table’s edge, but she didn’t look away. Couldn’t. Because the mirror didn’t lie—and what it showed her was the truth of everything she’d hidden, everything she was too afraid to name until now.

She didn’t look ashamed.

She looked claimed.

She looked loved.

Chapter Text

Addison was still inside her. Still hard.

Meredith’s reflection still trembled in the mirror, lips parted, chest heaving—hair stuck to her forehead and her cheeks pink with something rawer than lust.

Addison held her.

Neither of them spoke for a long moment. Their bodies were still tangled, damp with sweat, breath fogging the mirror in soft bursts. And then, slowly, Addison turned Meredith in her arms—away from the mirror, toward her.

Not to pull her in.

Not to push her down.

Not with urgency anymore—but with presence. With intention. Her hips had stilled, their bodies locked together in the quiet aftermath of the mirror. Meredith's hands rested on Addison’s back, both of them breathless, neither ready to break the connection.

Meredith looked up, blinking through the afterglow. “That was—”

Addison kissed her before she could finish. Not demanding. Not desperate.

Just real.

It lingered.

It landed.

And when they parted, Addison rested her forehead to Meredith’s and whispered, “Stay,”and she meant it in every way. Stay inside. Stay here. Stay mine.

Meredith’s hands came up to cup Addison’s jaw. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Addison smiled—quiet, tired, reverent. “Let me love you now. Not for a first. Not to finish a list.”

Meredith’s voice cracked. “Just because?”

“Just us.”

Addison guided her gently back toward the exam table, one arm steady around her waist, their bodies still joined. Every step made Meredith feel the slow drag of fullness inside her, each shift of movement intimate, grounding.

When the backs of Meredith’s thighs hit the table, Addison helped her ease back onto it, never breaking that connection. She hovered above her—still inside, still watching her.

It felt like ceremony.

Addison touched her like she was something delicate—lifting Meredith’s leg with a brush of her fingers, kissing every stretch of skin she could reach.

Every motion was reverent. Every kiss a quiet promise.

Meredith watched her. Eyes full. Guard down.

There was nothing to prove anymore.

Addison followed her down, never breaking their connection. She shifted her weight slowly, settling between Meredith’s legs, their bodies fitting together like muscle memory.

She didn’t hover this time. She stayed close—chest to chest, breath to breath.

Her fingers threaded into Meredith’s. Their noses brushed. And when she finally began to move—slow, steady, nothing urgent—it wasn’t about the thrust or the depth or the stretch.

It was about closeness.

Meredith gasped softly, but didn’t look away.

Addison was watching her too.

Everything in the room slowed.

Each motion was unhurried, tender. Addison moved like she knew this would be the moment Meredith remembered, even when everything else faded. And Meredith received her like it wasn’t the tenth time.

It was the first that mattered.

Addison kissed her with every stroke. Brushed Meredith’s hair back. Whispered things that didn’t need repeating.

Meredith’s legs wrapped around her, not to hold her in—but to keep her close.

And when Meredith came, it wasn’t loud. It wasn’t messy.

It was gentle.

Meredith’s body trembled under her, breath coming in slow waves, arms still looped around Addison’s neck. But Addison didn’t move. Not until Meredith opened her eyes and smiled—soft, sleepy, spent.

“You haven’t come,” Meredith whispered, brushing a hand over Addison’s jaw.

Addison kissed her palm. “Doesn’t matter.”

Meredith raised an eyebrow, a quiet kind of daring in her voice. “It does to me.”

Addison swallowed.

Meredith continued, no hesitation. “I want you to stay with me. All the way.”

She guided Addison’s hand to her cheek, leaned into it. “You don’t have to hold back anymore.”

And Addison didn’t.

Her hips began to move again—slow, reverent, every stroke a promise. The heat returned gradually, not as fire but as warmth, building inside both of them. Meredith kissed her again, open-mouthed and aching.

“You can stay,” she whispered between kisses. “Come inside.”

Addison’s breath caught—and then her body responded. Her hips stuttered, her arms wrapped tighter around Meredith, and she came with a quiet, shaking exhale—buried deep, held close, surrendered completely.

Meredith felt it. All of it. The warmth. The fullness. The way Addison trembled as if giving this part of herself meant something more than she could say aloud.

She held Addison through it. Wrapped around her. Anchoring her like it was instinct.

And when it passed, when the only sound left was their slowing breath, Addison didn’t pull away.

After a while, neither of them moved.

The room was still.

Then—Meredith turned her head slightly, catching a glimpse of them both in the mirror.

The fogged glass reflected her bare back, Addison still inside her, their bodies tangled in something that no longer looked clinical at all.

She saw the faint trickle of warmth—Addison leaking out slowly, evidence of how fully they’d held each other, how deeply they’d stayed.

Addison followed her gaze. Her voice was a whisper. “We look like we belong.”

Meredith didn’t look away. “That’s because we do.”

She stayed. Inside. Wrapped up in everything they’d built between sterile walls that somehow became sacred.

Meredith guided her down, arms open.

Addison collapsed into her, breathless, boneless, forehead pressed to Meredith’s shoulder as her heart slowed.

They stayed like that for a long time.

No countdowns.

No finish line.

Just love.