(no subject)
Title: One Night In Paris Has Nothing On This
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Characters/Pairings: Meredith/Alex/Lexie, Derek
Word Count: 1,744
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: #34 - Film for 100_situations, as well as the Meredith/Derek/cast Porn Battle.
Summary: She didn't mean to open that door. Really.
She really didn’t mean to open that door. Really.
It’s just she needed - maybe wanted was the better word here - to know where the cordless phone had gone to and Izzie wasn’t home so that left Alex. She hadn’t thought about knocking (a flaw, yes, but it is her house, and besides no one else over did hers). She paid for it anyways.
Majorly.
The image of Lexie straddling Alex on the bed, grinding into him, still in her shirt and underwear (thank god), with Alex’s hands on her hips, still dressed in his jeans (again with the thanking), will forever be burned into her retinas.
“Alex,” she doesn’t know why it’s his name she says, when really who he sleeps with is not her concern (not that Lexie is, really, it’s just she is her sister) but they both freeze and Alex’s mouth removes itself from Lexie’s neck so that she can turn her head to look at Meredith. Meredith stills the ‘what are you doing?’ that jumps to mind because that is fairly obvious. It’s the ‘why’ that isn’t. “I thought you two were...done.”
How Alex manages to still be a snarky asshole she’ll never know. “Isn’t that what you said about you and Shepherd? Over and over again. And to the entire guest list at the wedding that didn’t happen.”
“Shut it. You weren’t even there.” Meredith’s two seconds from launching into a full on defense of herself before she realizes that this has absolutely nothing to do with her, it’s just Alex sidetracking her. “This isn’t about me.”
“Well then close the door.” He replies, and Lexie dissolves into a fit of giggles into his shoulder and Meredith can already tell she’s got at least three shots in her just from that.
She closes the door; she just happens to be on the wrong side of it. He doesn’t so much frown as give her a slightly confused, somewhat disappointed look, and Lexie still has yet to straighten back up and send any looks in her direction.
“Don’t think I’m stopping just because we have an audience.” Just to prove it, he lifts Lexie’s shirt up, past her bra-clad breasts, leaving it half on still so his hands can skim over the newly bared skin and Lexie straightens and shivers and bucks a little into him when his fingers slip to trace the outline of her panties, teasing lower but not by much. He keeps his eyes on her the entire time.
Meredith isn’t thinking very clearly when she walks over to them and kisses Lexie. She’s just thinking about those smiling pink lips and a warm mouth. Lexie tastes exactly like she to do with who she was kissing last. She has to stoop to kiss Lexie properly and so she winds up with one hand in Lexie’s hair and the other one resting on Alex’s shoulder to help keep her balance.
Alex’s hands are still exploring Lexie, in that slow but precise way that suggests he’s done this more than a few times but his fingers graze her breast, ever so slightly, but it feels like a reminder that, yes, he is here. Like she could forget.
Her mouth leaves Lexie’s, and Lexie’s breathing comes in far shorter bursts than it had previously (that shouldn’t be a good sign but it kind of is) as she watches Meredith do the exact same thing to Alex as she’d just done to Lexie. Well, almost. Because it’s not like she hasn’t thought about doing this - thought about slamming him up against the lockers like she did the day of the bike race, except instead of threatening him she’d kiss him, hard and forceful. He’s the kind of guy you do that with. She can’t imagine being gentle with him or vice versa.
Maybe it’s just her that’s not that kind of girl.
Point is she’s still kissing him, and Lexie is still on his lap, right up close and personal with them, except her shirt is off (she knows this not because she sees it but because she can feel the skin of Lexie’s bare stomach against her arm, which somehow manages to be slightly erotic) which is new, and her cool hands start to slip underneath Meredith’s own blouse, which is forward, at least for Lexie, and this is moving just a bit faster than she expected (which is a lie, because she has no expectations, not for any of this - she’d never thought she’d be doing this in the first place).
“We should...” Alex murmurs, against her lips, trailing off in a way that she almost thinks might mean stop. Of course the chances of Alex saying that when faced with the possibility of a threesome are slim to none, so she chooses to finish for him rather than discover that he’s suddenly had a personality transplant.
“Bed.” She tells him, simple, one word, and then she’s flopped down on the bed, dead center, laying there like some goddess expecting to be served, and they’re both looking at her, probably thinking about this in regards to consequences and right versus wrong.
Lexie’s the first to dive in. Climbs up on that bed and crawls towards her in a seductive manner that she didn’t even know Lexie possessed, much less was capable of pulling off. She gets her mouth back against Meredith’s, bites at her lower lip in a way that makes Meredith moan, lets her hands slip down to the button of Meredith’s jeans and linger there. Alex’s eyes never leave them.
Meredith’s hands travel over Lexie’s body, tracing her spine, feeling the damp sweat there, feeling the sharp edges that contrast with the softness of her skin. She feels so small compared to what Meredith’s used, Derek’s broad shoulders, firm back - it only serves to remind her of the novelty of this.
Somewhere in this Alex makes an appearance. Slips in there, taking over for Lexie as he moves her hands away and finishes undoing Meredith’s jeans, pulls them down her legs, his hands hovering over her thighs first, the warmth of them and the friction of her jeans doing interesting things to certain parts of her body.
Lexie’s lips move down her jawline, her neck, to the curve between her neck and her shoulder, licking and sucking, and Meredith lets out a rather undignified noise, moving against her at the same time as she arches against Alex’s hand which has moved back to her thighs, painfully close to where she wants it but not quite close enough.
And then.
“Meredith, are you up here? I found that camera - turns out it was hidden in the closet - and I - “
The door is open. Derek is standing in front of the open door. Derek. With the video camera. And she’s got Alex’s hand between her legs and Lexie’s lips on her collarbone and this is not going to be pretty.
He swallows. Hard. “Okay,” he exhales. He’s not yelling. He’s not walking away.
The red light on the camera blinks on. She wonders if his hand slipped. Alex doesn’t give her time to ask because his hand starts moving again, his thumb pressing against her through her underwear now, right where she wants him if not for the barrier, and it makes her shut her eyes against the sensation.
She’s vaguely aware that they’re being filmed, hearing Derek’s footsteps as he moves further into the room, and she doesn’t know why or how or frankly which way is up or down, but she figures there will be time for that later. Later when her head clears and she isn’t stuck in such a fog. Right now there’s them. Bodies and hands and mumbled words she can’t quite understand but likes anyways. They’re too far gone to stop now, even if they wanted to.
Meredith rolls to her side, to face Alex, while Lexie moves against her back, her lips never leaving Meredith’s skin, and it’s then she becomes acutely aware that Alex is out of his clothes, completely, and Lexie might as well be. Meredith still has her shirt on. For some reason. Her hand comes out, sliding down the length of his cock, and he makes a breathy sound but doesn’t stop moving his fingers against her underwear.
“Off.” She mumbles, and his fingers slip underneath the edges of her black panties until he’s divested her of those too. Seconds later he’s inside of her.
Her. Somehow this became all about her, somewhere in this. Not that she minds but she was the intruder. With the camera on her she could almost believe this was planned. Almost.
Alex thrusts slow, purposefully trying to draw this out, drive her crazy, and she half-whines, half-moans her “faster”. She’s far enough into herself that she will beg to get what she wants; even if she doesn’t think it’ll do her any good. He’s very much aware of what he’s doing.
A hand slips down, between them, and she knows it isn’t hers, and Alex has one hand against her waist (she can’t place the other one because it’s all very blurry and her focus is elsewhere, namely south), so a part of her would bet money that it’s Lexie who has her fingers against Meredith’s clit, finding a rhythm with Alex’s thrusts and it doesn’t take them long to drive her over the edge, and she shudders as she comes, feeling Lexie sweat slick against her, and it’s somehow oddly reassuring.
Until she giggles. Lexie giggles, again, and she’s seriously starting to question just how much alcohol was involved in this encounter, as Lexie climbs over her legs to the other side of the bed, pushing Alex back against the bed, her body flush with his, wasting no time.
She forces her eyes to focus straight ahead, to that camera. Hard evidence of this travesty. She can’t imagine the gossip that would circulate if anyone at the hospital got their hands on that; they’d never live it down.
Meredith makes some kind of mental note to make sure that tape never leaves their hands and perhaps ask Derek if he has completely lost his mind but she’s fairly sure this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, mostly due to regrets and second thoughts that will surely occur in the morning, so she’s just going to go with this.
Just for tonight.
Her fingers find their way back to Lexie. Her turn.
Fandom: Grey's Anatomy
Characters/Pairings: Meredith/Alex/Lexie, Derek
Word Count: 1,744
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: #34 - Film for 100_situations, as well as the Meredith/Derek/cast Porn Battle.
Summary: She didn't mean to open that door. Really.
She really didn’t mean to open that door. Really.
It’s just she needed - maybe wanted was the better word here - to know where the cordless phone had gone to and Izzie wasn’t home so that left Alex. She hadn’t thought about knocking (a flaw, yes, but it is her house, and besides no one else over did hers). She paid for it anyways.
Majorly.
The image of Lexie straddling Alex on the bed, grinding into him, still in her shirt and underwear (thank god), with Alex’s hands on her hips, still dressed in his jeans (again with the thanking), will forever be burned into her retinas.
“Alex,” she doesn’t know why it’s his name she says, when really who he sleeps with is not her concern (not that Lexie is, really, it’s just she is her sister) but they both freeze and Alex’s mouth removes itself from Lexie’s neck so that she can turn her head to look at Meredith. Meredith stills the ‘what are you doing?’ that jumps to mind because that is fairly obvious. It’s the ‘why’ that isn’t. “I thought you two were...done.”
How Alex manages to still be a snarky asshole she’ll never know. “Isn’t that what you said about you and Shepherd? Over and over again. And to the entire guest list at the wedding that didn’t happen.”
“Shut it. You weren’t even there.” Meredith’s two seconds from launching into a full on defense of herself before she realizes that this has absolutely nothing to do with her, it’s just Alex sidetracking her. “This isn’t about me.”
“Well then close the door.” He replies, and Lexie dissolves into a fit of giggles into his shoulder and Meredith can already tell she’s got at least three shots in her just from that.
She closes the door; she just happens to be on the wrong side of it. He doesn’t so much frown as give her a slightly confused, somewhat disappointed look, and Lexie still has yet to straighten back up and send any looks in her direction.
“Don’t think I’m stopping just because we have an audience.” Just to prove it, he lifts Lexie’s shirt up, past her bra-clad breasts, leaving it half on still so his hands can skim over the newly bared skin and Lexie straightens and shivers and bucks a little into him when his fingers slip to trace the outline of her panties, teasing lower but not by much. He keeps his eyes on her the entire time.
Meredith isn’t thinking very clearly when she walks over to them and kisses Lexie. She’s just thinking about those smiling pink lips and a warm mouth. Lexie tastes exactly like she to do with who she was kissing last. She has to stoop to kiss Lexie properly and so she winds up with one hand in Lexie’s hair and the other one resting on Alex’s shoulder to help keep her balance.
Alex’s hands are still exploring Lexie, in that slow but precise way that suggests he’s done this more than a few times but his fingers graze her breast, ever so slightly, but it feels like a reminder that, yes, he is here. Like she could forget.
Her mouth leaves Lexie’s, and Lexie’s breathing comes in far shorter bursts than it had previously (that shouldn’t be a good sign but it kind of is) as she watches Meredith do the exact same thing to Alex as she’d just done to Lexie. Well, almost. Because it’s not like she hasn’t thought about doing this - thought about slamming him up against the lockers like she did the day of the bike race, except instead of threatening him she’d kiss him, hard and forceful. He’s the kind of guy you do that with. She can’t imagine being gentle with him or vice versa.
Maybe it’s just her that’s not that kind of girl.
Point is she’s still kissing him, and Lexie is still on his lap, right up close and personal with them, except her shirt is off (she knows this not because she sees it but because she can feel the skin of Lexie’s bare stomach against her arm, which somehow manages to be slightly erotic) which is new, and her cool hands start to slip underneath Meredith’s own blouse, which is forward, at least for Lexie, and this is moving just a bit faster than she expected (which is a lie, because she has no expectations, not for any of this - she’d never thought she’d be doing this in the first place).
“We should...” Alex murmurs, against her lips, trailing off in a way that she almost thinks might mean stop. Of course the chances of Alex saying that when faced with the possibility of a threesome are slim to none, so she chooses to finish for him rather than discover that he’s suddenly had a personality transplant.
“Bed.” She tells him, simple, one word, and then she’s flopped down on the bed, dead center, laying there like some goddess expecting to be served, and they’re both looking at her, probably thinking about this in regards to consequences and right versus wrong.
Lexie’s the first to dive in. Climbs up on that bed and crawls towards her in a seductive manner that she didn’t even know Lexie possessed, much less was capable of pulling off. She gets her mouth back against Meredith’s, bites at her lower lip in a way that makes Meredith moan, lets her hands slip down to the button of Meredith’s jeans and linger there. Alex’s eyes never leave them.
Meredith’s hands travel over Lexie’s body, tracing her spine, feeling the damp sweat there, feeling the sharp edges that contrast with the softness of her skin. She feels so small compared to what Meredith’s used, Derek’s broad shoulders, firm back - it only serves to remind her of the novelty of this.
Somewhere in this Alex makes an appearance. Slips in there, taking over for Lexie as he moves her hands away and finishes undoing Meredith’s jeans, pulls them down her legs, his hands hovering over her thighs first, the warmth of them and the friction of her jeans doing interesting things to certain parts of her body.
Lexie’s lips move down her jawline, her neck, to the curve between her neck and her shoulder, licking and sucking, and Meredith lets out a rather undignified noise, moving against her at the same time as she arches against Alex’s hand which has moved back to her thighs, painfully close to where she wants it but not quite close enough.
And then.
“Meredith, are you up here? I found that camera - turns out it was hidden in the closet - and I - “
The door is open. Derek is standing in front of the open door. Derek. With the video camera. And she’s got Alex’s hand between her legs and Lexie’s lips on her collarbone and this is not going to be pretty.
He swallows. Hard. “Okay,” he exhales. He’s not yelling. He’s not walking away.
The red light on the camera blinks on. She wonders if his hand slipped. Alex doesn’t give her time to ask because his hand starts moving again, his thumb pressing against her through her underwear now, right where she wants him if not for the barrier, and it makes her shut her eyes against the sensation.
She’s vaguely aware that they’re being filmed, hearing Derek’s footsteps as he moves further into the room, and she doesn’t know why or how or frankly which way is up or down, but she figures there will be time for that later. Later when her head clears and she isn’t stuck in such a fog. Right now there’s them. Bodies and hands and mumbled words she can’t quite understand but likes anyways. They’re too far gone to stop now, even if they wanted to.
Meredith rolls to her side, to face Alex, while Lexie moves against her back, her lips never leaving Meredith’s skin, and it’s then she becomes acutely aware that Alex is out of his clothes, completely, and Lexie might as well be. Meredith still has her shirt on. For some reason. Her hand comes out, sliding down the length of his cock, and he makes a breathy sound but doesn’t stop moving his fingers against her underwear.
“Off.” She mumbles, and his fingers slip underneath the edges of her black panties until he’s divested her of those too. Seconds later he’s inside of her.
Her. Somehow this became all about her, somewhere in this. Not that she minds but she was the intruder. With the camera on her she could almost believe this was planned. Almost.
Alex thrusts slow, purposefully trying to draw this out, drive her crazy, and she half-whines, half-moans her “faster”. She’s far enough into herself that she will beg to get what she wants; even if she doesn’t think it’ll do her any good. He’s very much aware of what he’s doing.
A hand slips down, between them, and she knows it isn’t hers, and Alex has one hand against her waist (she can’t place the other one because it’s all very blurry and her focus is elsewhere, namely south), so a part of her would bet money that it’s Lexie who has her fingers against Meredith’s clit, finding a rhythm with Alex’s thrusts and it doesn’t take them long to drive her over the edge, and she shudders as she comes, feeling Lexie sweat slick against her, and it’s somehow oddly reassuring.
Until she giggles. Lexie giggles, again, and she’s seriously starting to question just how much alcohol was involved in this encounter, as Lexie climbs over her legs to the other side of the bed, pushing Alex back against the bed, her body flush with his, wasting no time.
She forces her eyes to focus straight ahead, to that camera. Hard evidence of this travesty. She can’t imagine the gossip that would circulate if anyone at the hospital got their hands on that; they’d never live it down.
Meredith makes some kind of mental note to make sure that tape never leaves their hands and perhaps ask Derek if he has completely lost his mind but she’s fairly sure this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, mostly due to regrets and second thoughts that will surely occur in the morning, so she’s just going to go with this.
Just for tonight.
Her fingers find their way back to Lexie. Her turn.