Where You Find It (2/3)
Title: Where You Find It
Author: perfectly_vague
Chapters: 2/what will probably be 3
Rating: NC-17 (language, sex, incest)
Disclaimer: Forever jealous of Shonda, as I am not her and did not create this show or these characters.
Summary: Lexie and Meredith meet for the first time... with a twist. Since I suck at summaries, that's the best I can do!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, if there's anyone out here still reading this, before I say anything further, I owe you all a massive apology. Between being daunted by harsh flame reviews, working full time, and the regular beast of writer's block, this story took a longer hiatus than was ever expected or intended. The funny part is, what I'm posting now has for the most part been written in full for months, but I had initially had a different idea for the structure of this story, so I kept feeling like this chapter couldn't stand on its own. I'm hoping I'm wrong, and that chapter 3 will close out this leg of the journey appropriately, since I intend for it to be a sequel. Anyway, if anyone's still reading, I thank you deeply for doing so, and for bearing with me. I hope you enjoy, as all things considered, this has been a labor of love so far, and as always, your thoughts, feedback, and reviews are greatly appreciated. Without further ado, enjoy!
(For those of you who are just joining me: Chapter 1 can be found here)
Lexie is a really good kisser. Meredith likes the way her tongue traces the circumference of her lips teasingly before sliding it past her teeth and into her mouth.
Meredith likes a lot of things about Lexie.
She can't help but be enthralled by the way Lexie just goes with it, the way she doesn't resist or try to take over. They work in tandem, consuming and allowing themselves to be consumed, and Meredith almost finds it ironic that she can't remember the last time she felt so in-sync with someone.
Like how when she sends Lexie flying backward onto the bed with a hard push, instead of just laying in wait, Lexie fervently grabs at Meredith, pulling her on top of her by the shoulders and effectively shooting the dirty blonde's libido through the roof, which she pays forward by yanking down Lexie's jeans and panties in one quick motion.
The way she moans unabashedly when Meredith roughly fucks her. The way she begs for more when Meredith asks if she's going too hard. The way she begs a little more pathetically when she realizes how much her begging the first time turned Meredith on. And when Lexie's shining brown eyes lock with Meredith's as she comes, screaming and clamping tightly around three fingers, it cuts through the older woman like a ten-blade. It may be the hottest thing she's ever seen.
She takes an unexpected pleasure in watching the spent brunette take deep, shuddered breaths while attempting to recover, and when she leans down to kiss her, still straddling Lexie's hips, it feels more instinctive than it probably should. Like it's something she's been doing for ages.
"That was incredible," Lexie whispered against Meredith's lips, "but now it's your turn."
For someone who was as cavalier about relatively-anonymous sex as Meredith was, a fear of losing control seemed to creep up and dominate her every time she found herself in this kind of situation. She wasn't sure which of the two was worse: her typical prospects' desire to smugly exert power over her, or the equally-chauvinistic-while-pretending-not-to-be, 'you just lay there and enjoy it, I'll do all the work' method (a Derek Shepherd favorite). All she knew was they both threw a wrench in her attempts at maintaining any shred of control over a life that felt her own about 30% of the time, and she hated it.
Somehow, Lexie not only sensed her apprehension, but the reason for it as she flashed Meredith a sexy smile and sat upright. "No need to worry, you can still be on top."
Meredith was floored as to how she could have possibly known, how this complete stranger managed to decipher something so deeply personal and in a sentence, dispel all of her fear. But the more she thought about it, the more curious and complicated it threatened to become, and all she really wanted now was to get off, since all of Lexie's noises brought her nearly to the brink. So, instead of voicing her questions, she smiled into their next kiss while arching up to let Lexie strip her of her underwear.
It only took a moment to realize what Lexie was doing when she laid down on her back and pulled Meredith into a seated position just below the base of her neck, and when the brunette's tongue connected with her dripping center from below, she discovered yet another thing she likes about Lexie.
When her head flew backward from the impact of a moan ripping out of her throat, she realized that it might, in fact, be the first thing she loves about Lexie.
**************************************************
What Meredith didn’t expect was to be wrapped in her one-night-stand’s arms, two hours later, crying.
She couldn't remember if one specific thing got the tears started, but she's certain it’s mostly the alcohol’s fault. She also considers that there’s something about Lexie that somehow evoked this ability to let go of the weeks of sadness plaguing her, but she pushed the thought from her mind before it can even fully process.
She remembers falling asleep not long after a few sloppy and breathless post-coital kisses, and despite what would likely be an awkward morning, she let the brunette decide for herself whether or not she’d spend the night, and as suspected, she opted to stay. The next thing she remembers is waking up from a dream that she knew had something to do with the near-drowning and her mom's last words and not being enough for Derek and Susan's death and Thatcher severing any last hope they had at having a relationship, and it all hit her, hard, for the first time.
And despite the fact that the amount of tears and deeply personal information pouring out of Meredith's battered soul should have scared away even the bravest of individuals, Lexie didn't run. She held Meredith tightly, stroking long, dirty-blonde strands through her fingers and dropping the occasional comforting kiss on her forehead, which was burrowed firmly into the crook of Lexie's neck. "Let it out. It's okay," she'd whisper when Meredith was forced to pause for air. It was cliché; Meredith knew that, especially having memorized every canned phrase designed to comfort patients and their families over the past few years. But somehow, she believed it, even if part of her was ignoring logic to do so.
Lexie cleared her throat, breaking the silence that was only otherwise occupied by Meredith's intermittent crying. "You know, at my mom's funeral, I didn't cry, not once. Everyone else, my. my dad and my sister and our extended family. . even people who barely knew her were all bawling, and. . looking at me like I was a monster for holding it together. But even with her laying there in a casket in front of me, somehow I felt like if I didn't cry, it wasn't real. So, I didn't. I was numb for days. Then a call came into the house for my mom; some stupid telemarketing call or something. And I lost it. I laid down on the kitchen floor and cried. So hard that I dehydrated. And afterward even though my eyes burned and my throat was sore and dry, I felt so much better. Pain needs to be real before we can deal with it, you know?"
Meredith felt herself slowly regain composure the more that Lexie spoke. Part of her felt compelled to share the news of her own mother's death, or to offer condolences for Lexie's loss, but then she remembered that she was what's-her-name, and this was fake-name-girl, and this was only supposed to be sex. So she didn't.
The one thing she was having trouble shaking, though, was this increasingly mysterious stranger’s ability to perceive things about her that Meredith tried so hard, and usually succeeded at, trying to conceal from the world at large. First, it was her fear of losing control, and now this. So, she paused to find her voice, and in her trademark defiant-child tone, asked, "How'd you know I don't deal with things?" as she wiped the last of the tears from her eyes.
Lexie's only response to her question was a knowing smile, followed by a soft kiss pressed to Meredith's temple. "Get some rest. It's late."
Author: perfectly_vague
Chapters: 2/what will probably be 3
Rating: NC-17 (language, sex, incest)
Disclaimer: Forever jealous of Shonda, as I am not her and did not create this show or these characters.
Summary: Lexie and Meredith meet for the first time... with a twist. Since I suck at summaries, that's the best I can do!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, if there's anyone out here still reading this, before I say anything further, I owe you all a massive apology. Between being daunted by harsh flame reviews, working full time, and the regular beast of writer's block, this story took a longer hiatus than was ever expected or intended. The funny part is, what I'm posting now has for the most part been written in full for months, but I had initially had a different idea for the structure of this story, so I kept feeling like this chapter couldn't stand on its own. I'm hoping I'm wrong, and that chapter 3 will close out this leg of the journey appropriately, since I intend for it to be a sequel. Anyway, if anyone's still reading, I thank you deeply for doing so, and for bearing with me. I hope you enjoy, as all things considered, this has been a labor of love so far, and as always, your thoughts, feedback, and reviews are greatly appreciated. Without further ado, enjoy!
(For those of you who are just joining me: Chapter 1 can be found here)
Lexie is a really good kisser. Meredith likes the way her tongue traces the circumference of her lips teasingly before sliding it past her teeth and into her mouth.
Meredith likes a lot of things about Lexie.
She can't help but be enthralled by the way Lexie just goes with it, the way she doesn't resist or try to take over. They work in tandem, consuming and allowing themselves to be consumed, and Meredith almost finds it ironic that she can't remember the last time she felt so in-sync with someone.
Like how when she sends Lexie flying backward onto the bed with a hard push, instead of just laying in wait, Lexie fervently grabs at Meredith, pulling her on top of her by the shoulders and effectively shooting the dirty blonde's libido through the roof, which she pays forward by yanking down Lexie's jeans and panties in one quick motion.
The way she moans unabashedly when Meredith roughly fucks her. The way she begs for more when Meredith asks if she's going too hard. The way she begs a little more pathetically when she realizes how much her begging the first time turned Meredith on. And when Lexie's shining brown eyes lock with Meredith's as she comes, screaming and clamping tightly around three fingers, it cuts through the older woman like a ten-blade. It may be the hottest thing she's ever seen.
She takes an unexpected pleasure in watching the spent brunette take deep, shuddered breaths while attempting to recover, and when she leans down to kiss her, still straddling Lexie's hips, it feels more instinctive than it probably should. Like it's something she's been doing for ages.
"That was incredible," Lexie whispered against Meredith's lips, "but now it's your turn."
For someone who was as cavalier about relatively-anonymous sex as Meredith was, a fear of losing control seemed to creep up and dominate her every time she found herself in this kind of situation. She wasn't sure which of the two was worse: her typical prospects' desire to smugly exert power over her, or the equally-chauvinistic-while-pretending-not-to-be, 'you just lay there and enjoy it, I'll do all the work' method (a Derek Shepherd favorite). All she knew was they both threw a wrench in her attempts at maintaining any shred of control over a life that felt her own about 30% of the time, and she hated it.
Somehow, Lexie not only sensed her apprehension, but the reason for it as she flashed Meredith a sexy smile and sat upright. "No need to worry, you can still be on top."
Meredith was floored as to how she could have possibly known, how this complete stranger managed to decipher something so deeply personal and in a sentence, dispel all of her fear. But the more she thought about it, the more curious and complicated it threatened to become, and all she really wanted now was to get off, since all of Lexie's noises brought her nearly to the brink. So, instead of voicing her questions, she smiled into their next kiss while arching up to let Lexie strip her of her underwear.
It only took a moment to realize what Lexie was doing when she laid down on her back and pulled Meredith into a seated position just below the base of her neck, and when the brunette's tongue connected with her dripping center from below, she discovered yet another thing she likes about Lexie.
When her head flew backward from the impact of a moan ripping out of her throat, she realized that it might, in fact, be the first thing she loves about Lexie.
**************************************************
What Meredith didn’t expect was to be wrapped in her one-night-stand’s arms, two hours later, crying.
She couldn't remember if one specific thing got the tears started, but she's certain it’s mostly the alcohol’s fault. She also considers that there’s something about Lexie that somehow evoked this ability to let go of the weeks of sadness plaguing her, but she pushed the thought from her mind before it can even fully process.
She remembers falling asleep not long after a few sloppy and breathless post-coital kisses, and despite what would likely be an awkward morning, she let the brunette decide for herself whether or not she’d spend the night, and as suspected, she opted to stay. The next thing she remembers is waking up from a dream that she knew had something to do with the near-drowning and her mom's last words and not being enough for Derek and Susan's death and Thatcher severing any last hope they had at having a relationship, and it all hit her, hard, for the first time.
And despite the fact that the amount of tears and deeply personal information pouring out of Meredith's battered soul should have scared away even the bravest of individuals, Lexie didn't run. She held Meredith tightly, stroking long, dirty-blonde strands through her fingers and dropping the occasional comforting kiss on her forehead, which was burrowed firmly into the crook of Lexie's neck. "Let it out. It's okay," she'd whisper when Meredith was forced to pause for air. It was cliché; Meredith knew that, especially having memorized every canned phrase designed to comfort patients and their families over the past few years. But somehow, she believed it, even if part of her was ignoring logic to do so.
Lexie cleared her throat, breaking the silence that was only otherwise occupied by Meredith's intermittent crying. "You know, at my mom's funeral, I didn't cry, not once. Everyone else, my. my dad and my sister and our extended family. . even people who barely knew her were all bawling, and. . looking at me like I was a monster for holding it together. But even with her laying there in a casket in front of me, somehow I felt like if I didn't cry, it wasn't real. So, I didn't. I was numb for days. Then a call came into the house for my mom; some stupid telemarketing call or something. And I lost it. I laid down on the kitchen floor and cried. So hard that I dehydrated. And afterward even though my eyes burned and my throat was sore and dry, I felt so much better. Pain needs to be real before we can deal with it, you know?"
Meredith felt herself slowly regain composure the more that Lexie spoke. Part of her felt compelled to share the news of her own mother's death, or to offer condolences for Lexie's loss, but then she remembered that she was what's-her-name, and this was fake-name-girl, and this was only supposed to be sex. So she didn't.
The one thing she was having trouble shaking, though, was this increasingly mysterious stranger’s ability to perceive things about her that Meredith tried so hard, and usually succeeded at, trying to conceal from the world at large. First, it was her fear of losing control, and now this. So, she paused to find her voice, and in her trademark defiant-child tone, asked, "How'd you know I don't deal with things?" as she wiped the last of the tears from her eyes.
Lexie's only response to her question was a knowing smile, followed by a soft kiss pressed to Meredith's temple. "Get some rest. It's late."