#private practice

[angellsell]

THIS

[babyjakes]

private practice | ellie's undoing.

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series masterlist

video title | 'ellie's forced orgasm treatment'

video description | 'sweet little ellie might just have the tiniest clit dr. ari has ever seen. to prep her for her forced orgasm treatment, he uses a precision pump to grow the itty bitty nubbin to a more manageable size. as the machine milks the patient's clit, the doctor stretches out her tiny bottom with a gloved finger, reveling in the way she cries so pathetically at the unwanted penetration. once her clit is nice and swollen, the pump is removed and a clamp is applied to keep the knot of flesh exposed. dr. ari chooses one of his favorite tools to administer ellie's orgasm treatment: a vibrating brush designed for the clit combined with his patented warming paste, alongside a larger plug to properly stuff her abused little bottom. with expert care, he scrubs the patient's clit while working the plug inside her burning hole, building her up to a powerful orgasm right there on the exam table. poor little ellie wails as she squirts all over dr. ari's hands and tools, earning lots of praise from the proud doctor.'

participants | dr. ari levinson, ellie [regressed patient]

warnings | unambiguous NONcon: crying, resisting, pleading. nswf age regression/play. medfet elements: clinical setting, exam table, stirrups, restraints, gloves, sex toys used as "medical instruments." clit focus: pump, clamp, the dreaded brush returns >:D, warming paste. (virgin) anal play: fingering, plug. squirting forced orgasm. mocking, degradation, humiliation, praise. (basically) no aftercare.

word count | 2,342

an | eun's first smut in like,, actual years at this point? and it's filthy, depraved medfet? more likely than you'd think besties B^) so the way i've started to draft private practice concepts (and i'll explain this more in a proper post about the series/update the masterlist to include this information at some point) is in the format of a video library that the clinic keeps, comprised of videos taken during patient appointments. i'm not quite sure why i've been doing it this way, but it's been working, so i'm not gonna fight it lol. i've found it's been a little easier for me to use a nondescriptive "patient" with a name, instead of traditional reader-insert; i hope that's alright with everyone. the patients won't have many physical descriptors if any at all, and i'm not sure if their appearances will each be a one-off or if they'll have ongoing storylines. but for now, enjoy ellie and dr. ari in this piece :) thanks so so so much to everyone who has waited literal years for me to get back to posting. i love you forever with all my (slutty little) heart <333

an 2 | i ended up remastering this fic a few days after posting! so if you notice some heavy edits, don't mind them :)

The recording begins with the camera focused on little Ellie, one of Dr. Levinson's regular patients. With the backdrop of one of the clinic's pristine exam rooms, Ellie was already situated on the daunting exam table that stood at its center, her legs spread obscenely wide in the sturdy set of stirrups. The nurse who had prepped the girl for her appointment had taken care of restraining her, making sure the thick straps were tight enough to prevent even an inch of movement. Ellie's sniffles filled the air as she stared up at the bright white ceiling, listening as Dr. Levinson got situated at the foot of the table.

"Alright, Ellie," the doctor murmured with that smooth, soothing voice. The sound of nitrile gloves snapping onto his hands made the poor girl wince. "We have a very special treatment planned for that little clit of yours today." Reaching up with an easy hand, Dr. Levinson adjusted the overhead light to shine down more directly onto little Ellie's exposed privates. A lined napkin was already situated beneath her bottom, placed there to catch the results of the treatment.

The doctor hummed thoughtfully as his eyes settled on his patient's bare pussy. "Now as you can see," he narrated clinically for the camera, "little Ellie here has an exceptionally small clitoris." He used a gloved hand to gently manipulate the girl's folds, opening her up just enough to show her tiny bundle of nerves that still remained hidden beneath its protective hood. "Mhmm," Dr. Levinson mused with a pleased smile, reaching over for the tube of lubricating gel that sat on the instrument cart at his side. "We'll have to do something about that, won't we?"

The metal instrument tray on top of the cart also held a few other tools, one in particular that kept catching Ellie's nervous gaze as it wandered. The clit pump was a standard-issue, medical-grade machine with multiple components: a black box that served as its power source, a long clear tube which led to the pump attachment itself, and a foot pedal that made operation much easier. When Dr. Levinson reached a gloved hand over to pick up the pump, a clear plastic cylinder that attached to the flexible tubing of the machine, poor Ellie couldn't help but whimper softly in anticipation.

The doctor's expression softened with sympathy as he applied the lubricating gel to the attachment, knowing that very few patients enjoyed the pumping process. "There, that should make things run nice and smoothly," he cooed, his words meant to ease Ellie's distress. "We certainly don't want any pinching or tugging on that precious little clit of yours, do we, sweetheart?"

Ellie squirmed weakly against the table as the doctor positioned his hands back between her thighs, tears brimming her wide eyes as she shook her head pleadingly. But Dr. Levinson paid her no mind as he got to work, using a steady hand to retract the hood of the her clit, exposing the tiny nub to the camera's view. "There it is," he hummed lovingly, positioning the pump directly over it before powering on the machine with his foot. The equipment hummed to life as the gentle suction began, pulling poor Ellie's helpless clit upward into the plastic cylinder.

The girl let out a started gasp at the horrible feeling, her hips trying but failing to push against the restraints that kept her held down so securely. Dr. Levinson watched with a satisfied grin as his little patient's clit was worked by the pump in a torturous milking motion, the knot of flesh already growing noticeably in size as blood flow increased. "There we go," the pleased doctor murmured, "nice and visible now." Ellie whined pathetically, her eyes squeezing shut as the relentless, rhythmic suction overwhelmed her. As tears began trailing down the sides of her face, the only movement the girl could manage was the twitching in her fingers and toes.

"And while we let the pump do its work..." Dr. Levinson reached for the lubricating gel again, this time coating his left pointer finger. "Let's open up that tight little bottom of yours, shall we?" Ellie let out a louder cry of protest as his gloved fingertip teased her tighter entrance, her entire body tensing with dread. "Just relax for me, sweetheart," he soothed, his voice dangerously low. "The more you struggle, the worse it'll feel."

With skilled ease, the perverted man began pushing his lubed digit past Ellie's tight ring of muscle, humming sympathetically as she continued to cry at the unwanted invasion. "I know, angel. It burns, doesn't it? That's okay; that's what the gel is there for. You can take it," he encouraged gently. Once he made it past the initial point of resistance, he began a slow, steady pumping motion with his thick finger, stretching the poor girl's virgin walls as the machine's low hum droned on beside him. Ellie's sweet face contorted with embarrassment and pain as she was violated in both places by her doctor, with no way to fight back or stop him.

But despite her tears and clear displeasure, the poor patient's pussy was beginning to leak as Dr. Levinson continued his sinful work. Taking notice, he grinned darkly at the sight of innocent little Ellie getting aroused from having her tiny hole penetrated against her will by his gloved finger, her wetness dripping down onto the napkin beneath her. "Look at that," the doctor mused, nodding toward the clear fluid. "You like it when the doctor straps you down and makes you cry, don't you, little one? Getting your bottom fingered like this is making you so wet." Sliding his finger deeper, he kept working the slippery digit in and out of Ellie's burning hole. The girl whined and shook her head in denial, her humiliation evident. "Such a naughty little patient."

After several more minutes of stretching out her tighter opening, Dr. Levinson noticed that the clit pump was ready to be removed. He released it with a careful pop, revealing Ellie's abused clit to the cool air of the exam room. He then withdrew his finger from her bottom, using the thumb of his clean hand to smear the girl's own wetness across her throbbing bundle of nerves, watching with delight as she flinched and hiccupped from the brief stimulation. "Alright, sweetheart. You did such a good job letting the pump do its work. Now it's time to begin your real treatment."

He kept his eyes on his patient's dripping sex as he removed his gloves before snapping on a fresh pair. "Mhmm, that machine made your clit nice and puffy for me. Now it should be much easier to make you come, don't you think?" Leaning down to open one of the drawers below the medical cart, he paused as he considered his selection of tools. "Now let's see here..." Scanning the assortment of vibrators, dilators, plugs, and more, the doctor took his time in deciding.

"Since your pretty little bottom is already nice and stretched from my finger, let's use a plug to keep it that way while we work on your clit." Selecting a large, ribbed plug from the drawer, Dr. Levinson sheathed the tool in a disposable rubber cover before prepping it generously with lube. Poor Ellie's cries worsened once more at the sight of the instrument, her tummy trembling at the idea of the textured length being forced into her ill-prepared opening. "Here we are, little one," Dr. Levinson said cheerfully, pressing the daunting tip of the plug against his patient's slippery hole. "Now be a good girl and open wide for me."

Ellie wailed as the insertion began, the girth of the tool stretching her painfully wide. With each passing ridge, her ring of muscle was popped cruelly, only adding to the torturous sensation. Once the object was fully seated, the doctor gave its base a loving pat, earning an extra whimper from little Ellie. "There," Dr. Levinson smiled broadly. "And now that your bottom is taken care of, let's focus on that messy little clit of yours."

The gloved man selected a small clamp made of plastic, removing it from its wrapper before opening it wide and positioning it over Ellie's helpless nub. "This will help keep your clit exposed and hard while we work you up to that orgasm," he ensured. The girl cried out in pain as the clamp was placed, trapping and holding her clit steady beneath the doctor's perverted gaze. Satisfied with the setup so far, he then returned to his drawer of medical instruments for a final time.

One tool quickly caught his eye, a vibrator with a disposable head that resembled a toothbrush, though the bristles were made of soft silicon. After years of experience, Dr. Levinson knew that this particular tool was highly reliable in producing powerful orgasms, especially when used after a clit pumping session. He had even designed a specialized warming paste to be used with the brush, with the help of the clinic's medical engineer, Dr. Brenner.

Picking up the vibrator's base, Dr. Levinson grabbed a tab of the minty paste as well as a new head to pair with the handle. Ellie watched in horror as he clicked the silicon attachment into place, securing the circular tab of paste to the back of his gloved hand for easy access. "This is a very special tool, Ellie," the doctor explained as he worked, holding it up for the girl to see. "We're going to scrub that swollen little clit of yours until you come nice and hard for me."

Ignoring his patient's soft sobs and protests, he applied a decent amount of paste onto the brush's smooth bristles before switching it on, smiling as it hummed to life. As soon as the brush was lowered onto little Ellie's clit, she let out a loud yelp, her legs kicking uselessly in the stirrups. "There, see? That clamp is going to hold your clit nice and still for me while I give it a good scrubbing," Dr. Levinson crooned. "Now be a big girl and let the doctor take care of you."

With a steady hand, he began working the brush in small circles over Ellie's helpless bundle of nerves, the warming paste stinging and burning as the poor girl could only manage to weep pathetically on the table. "That's it, sweetheart," the man cooed gently, his expression feigning sympathy and understanding. As the brush did its work, the gritty paste quickly mixed with the patient's wetness to form a frothy foam that helped the process remain nice and smooth. The doctor watched in sick delight as Ellie's clit swelled up even more in the clamp, unable to escape the horrible stimulation. Through a bit of experimentation, he found that she cried the hardest when he focused the whirring bristles of the brush right on the sensitive head of her clit, working in small circles.

Not wanting to neglect his patient's burning bottom, Dr. Levinson used his free hand to press firmly on the base of the anal plug, preventing Ellie from pushing it out. "Shh, I know. That feels so intense, doesn't it, baby?" the cruel doctor murmured, keeping the brush positioned right where it was needed most. "Every time I circle this spot right here, you cry a little harder. Don't you, sweetheart?" Applying a bit more pressure, he watched as his patient's hips and legs jerked against the restraints, tears and drool dripping down her chin as she cried so beautifully.

"And your little bottom, it's still stuffed up so nicely, isn't it?" he reminded her, pumping the oversized plug in and out of her abused hole a few times to elicit some extra whimpers and tears. "And we'll just keep working your clit here, just keep scrubbing and scrubbing..." It was a tactic he used often, and it was having its exact intended effect: the more Dr. Levinson described what he was doing in humiliating detail, the more distressed and ultimately aroused his patient would get.

Within just minutes of the combined clit scrubbing and anal penetration, Ellies cries had taken on a tone that the doctor was all too skilled at recognizing as the pressure in her tummy rose to unsustainable levels. "That's right, baby girl," Dr. Levinson praised sweetly, watching the girl's muscles tense up as her body prepared for its unwanted peak. "There it is; you're almost there. Go ahead and come for me, sweetheart. Come for the doctor."

Just as he planned, his words tipped his little patient over the edge as her whole body spasmed, a broken cry rising in her throat as she came hard against his instruments. "Good, that's a good girl," Dr. Levinson hummed as he kept his tools in place, watching as Ellie's clit twitched painfully beneath the brush's steady pressure. To his surprise, the poor girl couldn't help but squirt heavily, drenching the gauze napkin beneath her. Her tiny bottom tried to push the plug out, but the doctor made sure to keep it right in place, continuing to encourage her, "There you go, angel. Keep coming for me... such a good girl."

Ellie's forced orgasm lasted a torturous several seconds before the red-hot waves of pleasure were finally replaced by softer, fuzzy tingles. Once Dr. Levinson was certain that she was finished, he gently removed the vibrator and switched it off, setting it down on the tray beside him as the girl's soft panting filled the silence. "Very good," he hummed again, leaving the plug in place as he used a gloved hand to spread the little one's folds open, admiring the aftermath of his work. "You did such a good job for me, baby. Just keep taking those deep breaths, okay? We'll get you cleaned up here in a second."

The final few moments of the tape show little Ellie lying there, breathless on the exam table, Dr. Levinson's hand stroking her tummy softly as she floated down from her terrible high.

[nickelnackleberries]

Can I just say I HATE the repeated trope in media where a woman who previously had an abortion now struggles with infertility/cant get pregnant/miscarries.

Like stop implying that theres some sort of cosmic consequences/karma to thier abortion

[fleetwoodspring]

Still Got the Blues.

pairing ∶ addison montgomery x fem!reader.

synopsis ∶ years after leaving New York behind, a celebrated pediatric ᐟ neonatal surgeon collides with the one person she never stopped loving. Addison Montgomery was never supposed to be part of the plan again, but some wounds don’t heal just because you walk away.

you don’t outrun love. you just put oceans, time zones, and operating rooms between yourself and its echo. some loves don’t end. they hibernate. and when they wake up, they might heal just as much as they hurt.

warnings ∶ angst, slow burn, mutual pining, unresolved romantic tension, emotional hurt ᐟ comfort, friends to lovers, domestic abuse ﹠ abortion ﹙referenced﹚canon character reinterpretation, suggestive dialogue and flirting. no use of y/n. edited in the slightest.

author’s note ∶ please mind the warnings. some difficult topics are referenced, including past abuse and infidelity, though nothing graphic is depicted. this is a slow, emotionally heavy burn, and feelings are very much the point. that said, there is tenderness here. soft moments. hands held in hospital corridors. love spoken too late, and maybe not late at all.

Used to be so easy

To give my heart away

But I found out the hard way

There's a price you have to pay

I found out that love

Was no friend of mine

I should have known

Time after time

So long, it was so long ago

But I've still got the blues for you

Leaving New York was one of the easiest decisions.

The most difficult part was leaving without anyone to look back on at the airport. Embarking on a new professional opportunity, a chance you had always dreamed of and precisely why you had studied for most of your life. Finally, the sleepless nights, the headaches, and the years working in hospitals and private practices; it all came down to that moment.

As I was saying, you were on your own. Your best friend, the woman you ended up in love with during your residency and first certification... Addison Montgomery... Shepherd was trying by all means to resuscitate a marriage that was a slow-motion death spiral waiting to happen. The evenings you spent together, whether at her house or your apartment, were put on hold with the excuse that Derek had decided to go home early, and to his wife’s misfortune, he never kept his promise. So both of you, alone, drifted out of touch. 

There was no going back once your ultimate choice was made.

On the same night your plane left New York, the pouring rain carried in each drop a plea, a tear of sorrow, and a pair of angry hands that pushed the woman’s tender body up against the windowpane. Blood, insults, and the departure of the man who was in himself the failure of more than a decade of affection. Derek walked outside the room without hesitation, leaving behind a woman who was emotionally, physically, and mentally traumatized. This only strengthened the sense of abandonment she already felt.

Addison’s first reaction wasn’t to go after her husband or her cheating lover. It was to call you. Her trembling fingers dialed a number that no longer had a signal. She eventually found out in the worst way that she was all by herself. The beeps were redirected to voicemail. The dark night featured dew, rain pounded the roof, and the hum of a house that no longer represented a story.

She hurried to your apartment in the rain and desperately knocked on the door, screaming your name like a merciless prayer. That’s when your neighbor, a woman in her late sixties, stepped out into the hallway and embraced Addison’s silhouette, smaller than she had ever seen her before. The elder entered her own apartment, taking a deep breath as she pulled out a towel and a sweater for Addie, surprising her by the sudden embrace she provided.

The woman’s husky voice sounded like a plea. “Where is she, Dolores?”  

She hadn’t noticed how much she cherished being with you, how you truly made her feel alive, even if only for a few hours together or between surgeries, you were always there with her. 

Until you weren’t there anymore.

When you agreed to fly back to the United States, new job possibilities came to light: one in Seattle, another in New York, and one in Los Angeles. 

As a result of your successful work with children in Africa, with additional teams to provide palliative care for the sickest and improve the quality of life for the tribes. It wasn’t predominantly about medicine, and certainly, the healthcare professionals who stayed wouldn’t let your work die. Given the magnitude of your worldwide reputation, your expertise would be in circulation and tremendously appreciated anywhere; you were well aware of that.

Yet all the places highlighted seemed to relate to a story.

New York held the weight of an ambiguous love, a friendship that dissolved into something platonic, and a thunderstorm of feelings you understood you would probably never forget, and as for Seattle... Well, you were definitely not one for the cold rain. Although the proposition of ​​working with one of your former professors seemed like a promising alternative and a trip to the small roots you still had in the country. What was remaining for you was Los Angeles.

The bright fluorescent lights of the medical facility were indeed an element that discomforted your vision. After two years in a hot environment, where the sun was practically burning hot and the moon reflected warm shadows, that artificial light still made your optic nerves dry for a brief second, but it was something you would deal with head-on. 

On your way to the nurses’ station, you exhibited high-heeled boots, black jeans that, for God’s sake, hugged your sleek leg muscles like a thin layer of skin, and finally, the creamy silk blouse that emphasized your eyes and the rich shade of your natural long locks. One of the female attendees who was chatting quickly gazed into your eyes; apparently, the perfume you had chosen to apply this morning got there seconds before your presence was acknowledged.

Armed with an almost sinful smile and a persuasiveness that was potentially just a breath away, your accent sounded a notch deeper than usual. “Good morning, ladies. Could you tell me where I can find Dr... Charlotte King?”

Soon after taking over as head of pediatrics and neonatology, your work at the hospital only taught you even more brilliance in the medical field. The residents and interns consistently expressed their desire to work under your name, and as a result, an increasing number of patients were referred to your care. 

Despite your professional life taking off like a rocket, the beach house where you had been sleeping seemed to lack life. It was a furnished house with two bedrooms and a large balcony. Adorned for quiet sunny days, but it still seemed uninhabited, even after two years of residing in that place.

You had few friends; they were always cheerful and looking out for you in any circumstance you could anticipate, even though you only saw them when they were performing surgery at the hospital or when Charlotte insisted you go to her private practice for dinner and then give her a ride back to her house.

Positioned toward the cafeteria table, a cup of chamomile tea with warm milk and a word search magazine occupied your concentration. It was Friday night, and you were seeking the perfect opportunity to cool off and still stimulate your cognitive abilities. However, Charlotte appeared to have other intentions when she collapsed in the chair next to you and removed the Care Bears customized pen from your fingertips.

“Do you even realize what day of the week it is?” she arched her raised eyebrows in a mocking gesture. She noted that your intense engagement with work had prevented you from dictating space-time.

“Do I truly need to know?” the smile on her face emphasized that the next words would be like walking on broken glass with no shoes, so naturally, Charlotte established something you couldn’t argue against, even if you wanted to.

“Look, you never exit this hospital. When you’re not here, you’re in the lab working or in some operating room, changing the course of neonatal surgery. Your house is a cold place. In Los Angeles! You need to jazz up your personal life, dear.” her hand was covering yours, an act of concern and reassurance. “What do you think about dinner with the girls and then going to karaoke at that gay bar downtown?”

You let out a deep sigh, closed your eyes, and let your body loosen up for a second, then immediately broke into fits of giggles. “You should have started off with ‘gay bar’ instead of insulting me for being a workaholic.”

The moment Naomi hugged you, a signature aroma filled your memories. It was a fragrance you were sure you had been devoted to; it was completely distinct from the woody smell Naomi traditionally adopted; it was sweet, and you could feel that warmth in the bottom of your abdomen again, one that had left you in tears in the New York airport. Breathing deeply, just the four of you in the restaurant, it was almost impossible to get your thoughts out of that bittersweet aroma, and considering how Violet constantly appeared to be ready to vomit all night, it would be common to assume that both of them were withholding some information.

“What made you switch your perfume, Nai?” finally, the question that had been burning in your throat took its proper form. Everyone praised your art of analyzing behavior and, even better, persuading your prey to communicate precisely what you were trying to find out, not simply what you would probably want to hear.

“I... Didn’t.” she was cautious, which made her raise the glass to her mouth, where she took a mouthful of wine and glanced away at Charlotte. “Actually, Charlotte gave me a refill of the same perfume I bought for my birthday; something must have changed in the formula.”

Your jaw set, brain processing far quicker than gears. “Maybe... It’s charming; it reminded me of that old friend.” this made the two brunettes in front of you exchange a nervous stare. They agreed that they couldn’t keep the information to themselves for long.

“Actually, maybe this perfume belongs to the person you’re thinking of.” Violet let the cat out of the bag; it was now or never... well, not “never,” but a big change and possibly one of the most challenging parts since the beginning.

The three women learned about your chapter of the story with Addison Montgomery; everyone there had a previous relationship with her, but they were equally estranged when her marriage to Shepherd claimed over half of her social life. Despite being a feminist, Addison still maintained faith in marrying a man whose individuality was a walking red flag. This left her somewhat more alone than she was ever supposed to be.

“Thank goodness I’m not coming to the clinic soon. I don’t picture how I’d respond to looking at her again after so long…” you expressed. It was unexpected to think that even after four years absent from contact, that woman who was your best friend and first platonic romantic partner still influenced your mental picture of time, or potentially it was the dizziness that caused this downward spiral of mental chatter.

At that point, Charlotte had chosen to ask for the bill, paying for the weekly dinner as they had all agreed over time. The two doctors decided to go home while you and your best friend drove down to the bar. Charlotte was definitely more excited to go than you had previously been.

Upon arriving, you both marched directly to one of the tables most distanced from the crowd.

“Tonight we’re going to drink to get wasted and probably fuck. You, my boo, need to get laid.” the blonde tossed her cards on the table, waving to one of the waiters passing by, ordering two cocktails.

“We definitely shouldn’t talk about my sexual activities.”

Eight glasses of tequila and maybe two cocktails later, you found yourselves dancing to the loud music. The dance floor was overflowing, bodies sweating with heat and desire or just the euphoria of knowing they were in a welcoming space. As the night grew darker, Charlotte had successfully kissed two women and a polyamorous married couple and would very likely go home with them. As for you... Just glances, tangible flirtation for a while until a lock of red hair magnetized your attention. She was tall, with shapely legs and a generous cleavage, the devil walking on earth. Your mouth was watering, and for a brief period, so did the woman standing in front of you. When did she get so close?

“Adeline. Nice to meet you.” she extended her hand to greet you, and you responded to the invitation, taking her warm hand and bringing it to your lips, leaving a harmless peck on her knuckles.

After introducing yourself, she went directly to the point, setting her hand somewhere between your neck and loose hair, caressing the nape of your scalp, and scraping her sharp nails against your skin. Her lips were soft and salty, and yet she grew too smooth through the lipstick. Your rough fingers caressed the gentle curves of her hips, moving up until they brought her body between your legs, letting themselves be guided by touch, by imagination... Unfortunately, for your senses, all you saw was the ghost of Christmas past.

Even when you landed in a bed that wasn’t yours, in a room that would certainly not be yours, when between your legs was a glorious woman devouring you as if her life depended on it, your moans were real, of course they were, uninhibited, unfiltered, seductive like a promise to your own brain. Through all the whining, your heart screamed her name. “Addie, Addie please…” inevitably, you reached the peak, with her sweet smell in your head and the image of her red hair resting on your legs. The illusion, once again, in its purest form.

Later the following morning, you leave the apartment with barely a trace, your clothes still retaining the scent of the previous night. Looking down the street, you realized Charlotte had all your belongings, and by the late morning, she was almost certainly at the clinic. 

You slipped your phone out of your jeans pocket and called the emergency number, leaving a short message on the voicemail. “Hey, Charlie. Uh... I’m about ten minutes from the clinic. I’m going to pick up my car, okay? Bye, see you in a minute.” your voice was harsher than expected, maybe even dryer. That’s how you ended up at the clinic with a large cup of coffee and shades, probably stolen from a stack in a very crowded store since they still held the price tag on the temple.

Perhaps it was the alcohol entirely vanishing from your body or the sunglasses blurring your perspective, but less than five steps away, Addison Adrianne Forbes Montgomery lowered her frame on the reception desk, arms loosening as she exchanged words with Dell. 

At that exact point, the world immediately began to slow down, your cardiac rhythm pounding in your ears, a sudden fever sending chills down your cervical spine. Equivalent to a ricocheting bullet, a wave of emotional states that had long ago been bottled away and buried seven feet under the surface. That’s when the receptionist’s attention was drawn straight to your frozen silhouette. He called out your name in a cheerful announcement but quickly tracked the change in the atmosphere; during that moment, the redhead realized who that unconventional last name belonged to. 

It was like seeing an angel, she remembered. For how much time had she been waiting for that comeback? All the forces of the universe were always playing comically against her: first the end of her marriage with Derek, then the love affair with Mark that eventually ended in an unborn child, and then the three-way romance that concluded with one of the interns in Seattle being heavily driven along by her ex-husband. 

She needed a fresh start in Los Angeles, and what a twist of fate, this was the perfect place to reunite with an old flame... A burning spark that in Addison’s heart probably would have never been extinguished, for your joyful laughter was forever written in her soul. Even though your groundbreaking achievements in medicine were honored across the globe, the redhead in question had never thought your paths would cross again.

Addison was at a loss for words while entering the apartment after that rainy night. The decor was untouched, and your fragrance soaked through each room. However, the apartment became lifeless due to your absence. Not just from the residence, that neighborhood, or the country, you left her life. It happened so carefully that, amidst the waves of tears on the soft couch, wrapped in your sheets, with your perfume enchanting all her sensibilities, she watched as practically nothing could make sense anymore without you. Friday nights, rosé wine bottles, and even the hospital were no longer interesting.

Used to be so easy

To fall in love again

But I found out the hard way

It's a road that leads to pain

I found out that love

Was more than just a game

You're playing to win

But you'll lose just the same

The leaves danced like poetry in the collision of glances that undoubtedly carried hundreds of emotions, including relief and doubt; time did seem to fade away, resembling a scene from an Old West duel. Addison was the first to take the very first stride towards that wave of uncertainty, her heart also humming as if she had just completed a marathon in high heels. You could never adequately express how much you treasured those glowing eyes, so breathtaking even after so much time.

The expressions on both of your faces were exceptionally hard to read; Addison maintained her posture even though her eyes said the exact opposite. With a painful lump loosening in her throat, she muttered in a silent breath, “You're alive.”

A chuckle escaped your lips. You could deny any geographical separation; at that moment it was obvious that nothing had truly changed.

She was the same Addison you had fallen in passionate love with, and you were the charismatic and outspoken woman she had let into her heart and soul. Your eyes were basically the same, calm and comforting. Hair remained perfect and even more voluminous, and the sideways smile appeared, something Montgomery dreamed of witnessing again. She could say with all her tenderness that it was a dream; even so, you commented, “No need to sound so disappointed.”

“There you are!” your best friend Charlotte’s voice cracked, pulling both of you out of the mental space cultivated by nostalgia. The blonde came striding in with her hurried aura, meeting you. She smiled openly, a hint of mischief shining through simply because she knew how well your night had been spent. “Here’s your car key. It’s parked in my spot. Your purse is there, too.” she said, handing you the keychain that holds your house keys, your car key, and a red pom-pom along with a pendant of your personalized initials.

Addison examined that exchange of information with a furrowing eyebrow before clearing her throat and captivating the blonde's attention, who continued with a smile on her face and pretty much an infallible plan to fulfill a theoretical assumption she had in mind, due to your background with the clinic’s newest employee.

After greeting Montgomery, Charlotte immediately turned her attention to you, “Can you pick me up when my shift at the hospital is over?”

Your hands were sweaty, your face flushed from Charlotte's lack of filter. “Of course. Let me know when you’re finished.” you managed to reply, pondering the presence of your past right in front of you.

“You're a sweetheart! See you later, darling.” Charlotte said, standing on tiptoe and sealing her lips to your cheek. Before you could realize it, she was gone, and Addison was staring at your face with even more hesitation.

A deep breath, a masked relief, was all you needed to summon the courage to finally proceed along Addison’s steps, guiding her by the arm until you reached the empty office. Just when the redhead was standing in the middle of the room, she could hear the door lock and your stride to the leather couch, where you sat quietly and extended your arms for her to do the same as you.

“So... It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other.” she began, tucking a piece of her red hair behind her ear.

“You cut your hair.” you pointed out, studying how that cut emphasized her authoritative yet charming facial features.

Addison couldn’t hide her bright smile, remembering one of the times you had inspired her to cut her hair, but she never had the courage to, mainly because Derek thought she would look older. “And you let yours grow... It looks stunning.”

So long, it was so long ago

But I've still got the blues for you

At that moment, the conversation descended into a collection of past emotional memories about how Addison felt distant in so many specific instances, but also in relation to how she lost your friendship so unexpectedly, leaving a wound in her heart. On the other hand, you failed to mention your burning love for her, only emphasizing how much you missed the friendship you two had founded and how, over time, the strings that held together that attachment had lost their way or essentially headed down different paths, as was to be expected. You talked about your two years of service in Africa, about the sleepless nights caring for children and mothers so young they barely could comprehend what was to come in their lives. She told you about the love affairs that adjusted her standpoint on life, directing her to Los Angeles. To you.

All this exchange was abruptly interrupted by both of your cell phones ringing, announcing a hospital emergency. Immediately, heading to the parking lot, you offered her a ride, and together, you went to St. Ambrose. In a very quick change of clothes into surgical scrubs, your chief resident detailed the case that was being transported by ambulance, and with your instructions, the team was ready to handle it. Addison was watching your conduct, waiting to do her part. 

That case moved along like a smooth breeze, both doctors operating together as if they had been doing it for years, observing and anticipating each other’s precise movements so that the patient would finally become stable along with the baby, who would be born prematurely if the women weren’t so good at their respective specialties.

“Good work there.” Addison emphasized, catching your eye as you scrubbed your hands after the surgery.

You grinned, cheerful; you had always fantasized about that instant. “Thank you... Likewise, you haven’t lost your abilities with your hands.” a tender phrase of flirtation escaped your lips. From where? You had no idea, but whenever she was around, your filters dissolved like an uninhibited waterfall.

She giggled, feeling her cheeks heat up with the blush that observation induced. After that surgery, nothing would ever be the same, and you could feel the change in the surroundings as soon as you stumbled out of that operating room.

That week prior to their first mutual reconciliation talk, things at the hospital soon started to collapse completely. As more potentially fatal cases arrived at their door, schedules became chaotic, day could turn into night, and shifts could no longer be twenty-four hours but rather further extended. There was definitely no time for naps between surgeries; just a coffee and a muffin would be enough for that wave of babies, children, and mothers with health complications. Amidst all that chaos, your thoughts traveled straight to Addison, who was taking on the night shifts so she could also be in attendance at medical appointments at the private clinic. The purple scrubs stood out; only neonatal attendants wore them, and as opposed to you, Addison was looking like a glowing goddess in them, which made your heart race when she smiled at you, her eyes exhausted from a week without a break from work.

Your attire was anything but traditional, and Addison considered it your distinctive style. Working with children and their mothers, your scrubs had small handmade stars, and for a few days she swore she saw some embroidered designs there too, on the hem of the shirt and pants—maybe a Care Bear or a Disney character. When she approached you, you didn’t pull back from a tight hug, keeping your face snug against her neck as if that would take away any tiredness from your body. She felt exactly the same. Your perfume activated her senses, causing her to cling even more tightly to you.

So many years

Since I've seen your face

But here in my heart

There's an empty space

You used to be

“Are you doing okay?” you asked, whispering in her ear and attaching one hand to the nape of her neck, caressing it as if the entire world had simply stopped in that empty hallway, where nurses were shifting from one side to the other, checking on patients.

She breathed in, slowly detaching you from the tight embrace, and when she caught your eye, her throbbing exhaustion made her guide you to the first on-call room in the corridor. 

“I need a rest, and so do you, so come here and let’s rest.” she demanded, lying down on the bed and pressing her back against the wall, leaving enough space for you to lie down next to her.

It wasn’t something you were completely used to, but another thing you missed those nights in New York where you both shared a bed or a couch. When you lay down next to Addison, her arms found your waist, and she buried her face in your neck. Your arms worked their way around her body, wrapping her in a warm and cozy embrace. Your heart pounded in your chest, that hidden passion coming back like a high-speed train, overpowering your senses and driving hot tears to well up in your eyes. 

A pout escaped your lips; you had waited so many years for this moment, however platonic it might be. “I love you, Addison Montgomery.” you blurted out, holding low your voice. 

She wasn’t asleep.

Both bodies lingered affectionately in that small bed, intertwined, maintaining the warm feeling of comfort and the full attraction of two hearts that had been bruised on their way back to each other. Addison was seeking a fresh start, oblivious that coming back to the past would only heal all the fears and frustrations she had built up from toxic relationships with her former best friends. It was this moment that she understood that the problem wasn’t her and her misconceptions about falling in love with friends; no, the problem was that none of those friends were you.

You were the one who was holding her hand through questionable choices without question, the one who also embraced her when things didn’t go as originally planned. Addison vividly remembered the wedding day; even knowing you weren’t one of the bridesmaids, you were beside her and muttered in her ear that everything would be alright, that it was a mutual decision, and that getting married had always been her dream. She knew, deep down, that the union was for status and ego. Even so, you were there, in a crimson dress so exquisite that she wondered twice about the need to go down on your body and devour you completely, even knowing there were only minutes remaining before she had to walk towards the Shepherd family name. 

Archer took her, and she looked so beautiful in her wedding dress... You felt that still-growing passion tighten, grow to the point where tears of pride faded and eventually turned into tears of sorrow, because witnessing the love of your life marrying a man who didn’t deserve even a fraction of the woman she is was genuinely torturous. After the “I do.” Montgomery’s bright eyes searched for your figure somewhere among the family members. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find you. 

For the first time that late afternoon, she felt half her heart tighten. Because she had affection for Derek, and she also felt that you were holding back the most tender and joyful aspects of her.

In the following years, you were constantly present, and you were frequently at game nights, playing doubles with Mark Sloan. She was jealous of that, of the close relationship you two shared. For a long time, Mark had a particular aspect of you that she wished belonged to her. It wasn’t a sexual affair; you were always very open about your sexuality, something she respected given she was a coward in admitting that potentially her happy ending wasn’t with the current husband at the time. You and Mark talked about women openly and even had a little battle to find out who could collect more numbers on the nights you both went out. Even if Addison was jealous, she noticed that you respected her marriage and would never bring up that kind of subject with her, a friendship about intimate and lustful matters without judgment.

In your arms, Addison could leave her heart open to be taken care of, broken, or rescued from an anguish she had experienced her whole life. After four years without you, she came to figure out that time would never be her true friend, that you might have grown so much that you would certainly never let her come back into your life.

Then again, you were intertwined in that moment, and even though she was ready to ask more about the conversation she witnessed between you and Charlotte, she also knew that you would never lay down with another woman if you were in a committed romantic relationship with the doctor.

“Please, Addison. Stop thinking. I haven’t slept in two weeks, so please... Let me have this break.” you positioned yourself more comfortably in bed, consequently bringing your faces one millimeter away from the woman in your arms. Your breaths became one, and at this crucial moment, Addison couldn’t rest.

Her hand reached up to meet your face, emerald eyes tracing every delicate feature before she could touch, index finger memorizing the curve of your nose, the small freckles on your rosy cheek. You opened your eyes, conscious of what was happening. When your impulses became louder than the indecision in your subconscious, you moved inches closer, brushing your nose against hers in an affectionate caress. Addison felt her skin tingle, closing her eyes to feel that exchange of affection more intensely. She felt your hand travel down the fabric of her scrub top and move inside, finally touching the skin of her back, caressing it with delicate fingers, drawing her body closer. She wrapped one leg tight around your waist, lying down with half her body pressed against yours.

“I missed you so much…” she said, swallowing hard.

So long, it was so long ago

But I've still got the blues for you

You should get up and move on, abandoning any thoughts that held you in this position and never gazing at the past that way all over again. You called all three of your friends on the night you left for Africa, but your cell phone vibrated once. Somehow, Derek showed up, wishing you a good flight and letting you know he was going home early to surprise his wife. That night, Addison and Mark didn’t answer the phone. With your chest cramping from anticipating what had been happening, the first few minutes of the trip felt suffocating. Heavy breathing, hot tears, and irreparable anguish. You fell asleep halfway to your destination, as your body was weakened. Over time, you acquired the ability to be free of the anchors that surrounded your heart, allowing you to radiate happiness beyond the need for societal restrictions. You learned to smile openly, to dance in the rain, and to see life from a completely different point of view.

That’s why you refused to leave. This time, without marital partners or lovers involved. No forcing yourself to pretend that your heart wasn’t holding out for hers. You stayed simply because love doesn’t just vanish overnight; respect, affection, pride, and the feeling of friendship—all of that was the culmination of the reasons why. From the minute you fell in love to the moment your senses had to pause to breathe, break down the situation, mature, and eventually, be able to surrender.

“Now you’re the one thinking out loud.” Addison chuckled, looking up and resting her head on her hand.

You carefully approached the door, unlocked it, and waited for the redhead. "Let's go home, Addie." both smiled brightly, which was just what you needed. Home.

Though the days come and go

There is one thing I know: I've still got the blues for you

📌 ∶ @jayquery , @lizaornot , @autisticbiologistmess , @taliiiaasteria.

⸻ english is not my first language, but I hope you enjoyed it. constructive feedback is always welcomed! let me know if you want to be tagged in future fanfics. thanks for reading! 💞

I’m accepting requests! if you enjoy my writing and want to read a story about a specific character, I’ll do my best to make it happen!

a special kiss to Lai, who encouraged me every step of the way in writing this story. I love you forever, baby. 💋

© all canon characters belong to their original creators, while all non-canon compliant ideas, plots, and writing are my own. please do not copy, repost, or claim my work without permission. divider by @bbyg4rlhelps

[jenniferjareauprotector]

Amelia + never being able to fucking sit™

[storiesofsvu]

Scavenger Hunt

Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader warnings: smut, kinks talked about/explored, fingering and oral, squirting. Could be set anytime, honestly, i dunno. I kinda picture it college roommates/friends, or like, her PP, kinda messy era, but it could also be more current. picture what you'd like. 3.5k

It was your mistake, leaving Amelia alone in your room while you ran downstairs to pay for the takeout, you were more than well aware of that. It was days like this you hated the fact that you had roommates, otherwise you would have been watching the movie in the living room like normal people. Instead, the two of you often got cozy on your bed, probably a little too close together considering it was a queen but there was always someone toeing the line, pushing the boundary, wondering just how far they could go until the tension snapped. You’d been pretty confident that line might just snap tonight, that things were going fabulously well, until you stopped in the doorway and Amelia had moved from your bed. 

She was standing in front of your bookshelf, and judging by the smirk on her lips, she’d found your collection of adult romance novels. The ones filled with so much smut you were reading porn more than half the time. Not that you were ashamed of that, book type people shared their favourite recs to each other all the time, the dirtier the better. You just weren’t sure if Amelia was that type of person or not. 

You’d barely taken a step into the room, just about to part your lips and say something about dinner being here when she let out a dark chuckle, flipping the page. Then your heart dropped out of your chest before beginning to pound so loud you could barely think. It wasn’t a book in her hands; it was a hot pink spiral notebook. One that you’d filled with your favoured new found kinks, snippets from the dirtiest of sex scenes, the occasional time you’d taken your imagination for a spin and twisted your own words into sexy little snippets. 

One that you never wanted to see the light of day.

Ever.

And now there it was.

Open. 

Wide.

In Amelia’s hands.

She raised a brow at you and you swore her eyes darkened. The takeout in your hand dropped to your make up table and you gulped.

“I—it’s not—I mean.” The heat was creeping up the back of your neck, tickling at the skin of your chest as you fumbled around for an excuse that it was clearly someone else’s little notebook stashed away in your room. Amelia laughed, her lips curving up into a smirk that made you pulse and you forgot what you were trying to piece together, “Fuck.”

“Who knew you hiding such a dirty mind.” She closed the book, tilting it back and forth in her hand almost like she was taunting you.

“No! I wasn’t, I just—” you took a step forward, trying to swipe the book away from her and suddenly she was very entertained by this game of keep away. 

“Really?” Her brow raised again, “you’re telling me you just have a list of kinks written down for… calligraphy practice?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, “it’s not what it looks like.”

“Okay.” She flipped through the pages again, “but this page looks like a scavenger hunt to me.”

“A what?” The heat continued to crawl its way up your body, wrapping around your throat and into your cheeks, your chest beginning to heave in an attempt to even get air into your lungs. 

“A scavenger hunt.” Grinning, she slowly closed the space between you, not breaking eye contact until you were practically sharing the same breath. She lifted the book, pointing to the list, “breath play,” her hand brushed over your collarbone and slid up your neck, fingers delicately squeezing at your skin. Her eyes flitted up to yours, and a sparkle flickered through them, “think I found that one right here.” Her eyes shot back to the book, searching through the list, “spanking?” Her hand slid around your shoulder, trailing down your side until she curved it around your back, pulling you closer to her, her lips practically brushing over yours. Her fingers walked downwards until her palm curved around your ass, “I think that one’s right about here.”

“Jesus Christ.” You muttered when she squeezed your ass, your breath hitching as the need for more burst through your body. 

Amelia simply smiled in return, her nose bumping yours, “have I mentioned that I really like scavenger hunts?”

“Oh?” Gulping, you finally found your voice, “I’m down to play if you are.”

“Baby, I am so fucking down.”

Having gotten all the consent she needed, Amelia finally surged forward, her lips meeting yours in a fiery kiss. The hand she had on your ass stayed put while the other one wound behind your neck, fingertips slipping into your hair. As you sank into her, relishing in the feeling of her lips on yours, your hands slid up her arms, looping behind her shoulders. You felt like putty in her hands and she’d barely touched you, you knew that no matter what, this was absolutely going to be worth it.

Her tongue slid over the seam of your lips and you instantly parted them, eager to feel her tongue against yours, to get a better taste of her, to let her know that you were hers to check off anything on the list she wanted. A groan came from the back of her throat as her tongue swiped through your mouth, not leaving anything unexplored, sucking all the taste of you she could get. 

She squeezed your ass again and it was your turn to moan into the kiss, your body rocking towards hers. Then her hands were fiddling with the hem of your shirt, twisting it around her fingers, nails tickling at your skin. 

“Can I take this off?” She husked and you nodded.

“Yeah, yes.”

She pulled the fabric over your head, letting it drop to the floor beside you, her eyes lingering on your now bare chest, darting across the newly exposed skin. Her teeth dug into her lower lip as she grinned and you knew she liked what she saw. 

There was a sudden need to get every single scrap of clothing off your bodies as you fumbled backwards towards the bed between breathless kisses and roaming hands. It was a flurry of movement, barely able to really grasp what was happening until the two of you were completely bare and tangling into your bedsheets. Her hands cupped your cheek in such a delicate way you were almost surprised with how fervently she was kissing you, tongue surging into your mouth with ease and precision. You slotted a thigh between her legs and when she ground down against it you could feel how wet she was already, not that you were one to talk, you were drenched.

Reluctantly, she broke the kiss, mouthing her way down your neck, “where did you want to start?”

“Anywhere.” You breathed back, your body already tingling at her touch, “whatever you want.”

She shifted downward, tongue swiping at your collarbone before pressing kisses in between your tits as her mind raced through the pages, trying to grasp even a single strand of focus. Amelia had long dreamt of getting you like this, of having you sprawled naked under her while she did whatever she wanted to you and now that she had you just like that she was on a high, scrambling to figure out what she wanted to do to you first. Her mouth shifted, lips wrapping around one of your pert nipples while she cupped your breast, squeezing softly. You let out a low moan, your head falling back into the pillows and she felt herself fucking pulse, she wanted that noise, over and over and over again. Her tongue flicked over your nipple before she let it go with a lewd pop, still mouthing at your skin when she spoke.

“You’ve really never squirted before?”

“No.” You shook your head, your back arching off the bed, wanting nothing more than her mouth back on your body.

“That.” She sucked your nipple back into her mouth, groaning into your skin, “that is where I want to start.”

“Fuck…” your eyes fell shut again as her fingers started to toy with your other nipple, pinching it, rolling it between her thumb and forefinger in a similar pattern her tongue was doing on the other. 

You couldn’t help it, whining as your body shivered, the pulsing between your legs getting stronger each time her tongue brushed over your skin.

Amelia’s teeth sunk into your skin gently before she swapped the places of her mouth and hand, her fingers slipping on your spit slicked nipple. You shuddered underneath her, your leg pressing up into her pussy and she happily thrust against it, rolling her own hips in time with her tongue. She pulled back, blowing cool air over your hardened nipple, watching with a grin when you shivered. Both hands slid up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their path before they groped at your chest, rolling and kneading tender flesh. Thumbs brushing back and forth over overly sensitive nubs. 

“’Melia…” you whined, your hips attempting to rock upwards and Amelia quietly swore under her breath. 

If she thought your moans were bad, the sound of her name coming off your lips that way was enough to make her clench, enough to drive her wild, enough to never stop touching you. 

“Patience.” She murmured, leaning over you to leave a kiss on your lips, “gotta get you nice and wet,” her lips met yours again, this time her teeth sinking into your lower one, “and fucking needy first.”

You let out a frustrated huff, attempting to glare daggers up at her while she continued groping at your chest, sending sparks fizzling through your entire body. She laughed softly, 

“Don’t be a brat now, or you won’t get what you want.”

“Please?” You whispered with a pout and she smirked again.

“So fucking sexy when you ask nicely.”

One of her hands slid over your collarbone, sliding up your neck once more, but this time she continued, grasping your jaw in her hand, gently urging your lips apart. When your eyes darkened, she flipped her hand over, palm to the sky with two of her fingers resting against your lower lip. 

Without even a second thought, you surged forward, sucking her fingers into your mouth, closing your lips around them as you slowly licked them up and down. Amelia practically purred, her eyes darkening as she began grinding down on your thigh again, bringing pleasure burning underneath her skin. She slowly started fucking your mouth with her fingers, matching the torturously slow drag of her pussy on your thigh. 

“That’s it.” She praised, sinking the digits all the way in, her thumb tracing the outline of your upper lip and you moaned around her fingers, your pussy fluttering in anticipation. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Two more pumps of her hand and her fingers disappeared from your mouth; you only had a second to gasp a breath in before her lips were on yours again. Her tongue swept through your mouth, rolling against yours with ease as she caged you into the bed.

Finally, her hand found its way between your legs, palming at your inner thighs, spreading you open for her before her fingertips slowly dragged through your pussy lips. 

“Fuck..” You breathed, pulsing when she did it again. 

“Christ, you’re already soaking.” She murmured against your lips and you did your best to nod, “you like it when I touch you?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded, managing to focus just long enough to nip at her lower nip, pulling a groan from her before she rolled her hips again, continuing to lazily ride your thigh. 

“Guess you really like your tits played with.” She teased, her fingers moving back and forth between your legs, simply rubbing at your pussy, taunting you with what you really wanted, “this drenched from my mouth on them? I bet you’d ruin the sheets if I put my mouth on your pussy.”

“Oh god.” 

“Yeah...” her fingers finally brushed over your clit, “bet you fuckin’ would.”

You whimpered into her mouth when she started rubbing your clit, still slow, but varying in pressure. Your hands slipped around her body, sliding down to her hips, to her ass, guiding her to keep grinding your thigh. When she picked up what you wanted, one of your hands slipped between your bodies, toying with her chest the way she’d done with yours. 

Amelia groaned into the kiss, her wetness smearing over your skin while you began to pant against her lips. Her hand slipped further down, pressing into your pussy, smirking over the increase in juices already, spreading them across your inner thighs before returning to your clit. She pressed harder, this time going faster, quick little circles on the sensitive bud. 

You gasped, hips rocking up off the bed, chasing the touch, dying for more, for harder, for faster, for Amelia to take you to your peak. Sparks were flying through your body, between the two of you, all heated, breathless and a little messy while she made your pussy pulse over and over again around absolutely nothing. Just as you squeezed your eyes shut tight, feeling your stomach tighten, her hand moved from your clit. A loud frustrated whine left your lips and she laughed softly.

“Relax,” she cooed, kissing her way down your neck, “I’ll make it all worth it. I promise.”

Her hand slipped between your legs again, this time two fingers finally sinking into your dripping cunt and she let out a low swear at how tight you were already squeezing her. Once again, she started slowly and it wasn’t until you squeezed at her ass again that she began to move her hips in the same rhythm. You squeezed again, 

“Harder.” The husk in your voice was what made her realize you were talking about the pressure of her pussy on your thigh, not her fingers buried deep inside you and she whimpered. “Want you—ah—” your hips jumped, “to come first.”

“I’m not gonna say no to that.” She grinned, stealing your lips for another kiss, her fingers still moving inside you as she picked up the pace of her hips. Her pussy practically dripped over your skin, rubbing back and forth harder with each roll of her hips. You flexed your thigh just right, pressing against her clit and her fingers stilled inside you, “oh god.”

“You like that, hm?” You challenged, the game of tug of war continuing as you each tried to take total control.

“Do it again.” She instructed, finally gaining enough sense to keep her fingers moving again, rocking her hips in time with them. “Fuck.” Her head dropped into the crook of your neck, her hips moving faster, breath coming out in pants each time you flexed your thigh, pressing against her throbbing clit. “M’close.”

“Ride me, baby.” You murmured against her ear before leaving a trail of messy, wet kisses down her neck. 

With a small groan she pushed herself half up, her fingers slipping out of your cunt, but continued to toy with your clit as she focused on getting herself off first. Each roll of her hips left another streak of wetness across your thigh, glistening in the light of the room and the sight made your fucking mouth water. Her thighs clenched, shuddering around yours and you took the opportunity to surge forward, wrapping your lips around her nipple. 

“Fuck!” She cried, the double sensation just enough to bring her right to the edge, she was nearly tumbling over when your teeth sunk into her skin, gasps of air leaving her lips. But it was when you spoke again that really sent her flying.

“Come for me.” Your words, murmured against her wet, hot skin and Amelia was lost in you, orgasm shooting through her, juices flowing out of her pussy, soaking your thigh and the sheets underneath you.

She collapsed over you, fingers only stopping their movements as her body shook with pleasure, a second later and she was mouthing at your neck again, fingers rubbing your clit back and forth. 

“Shit.” She muttered, a laugh escaping her lips when she pushed upwards and you made to sit up with her, a gasp leaving your lips when she pushed you back into the bed, “get back down here, we’re not done yet.” Her hands shifted, pinning your thighs to the ruined sheets, “the goal was making you squirt, not me.”

“Guess I was going for extra credit.” You teased back, falling into the pillows as her mouth trailed its way down your body. With the attention fully back on you, you were suddenly more than well aware of just how fucking soaked you were, how much you needed her touching you. How much your pussy was throbbing, aching to be filled again. 

And Amelia wasn’t about to make you wait any longer. 

Settled between your legs, she ran her thumb up the length of your pussy lips, pressing into your clit, watching the way you pulsed before surging forward with her mouth. 

“Oh fuck!” You threw your head back, a sheen of sweat bursting through your skin the instant her mouth was on you, right where you’d been dying for it to be. Her tongue was soft, lapping at you like you were the greatest thing she’d ever tasted, groaning into your cunt in a way that made you just know this was something she thoroughly enjoyed. 

Amelia took as much time as she could tasting you, lips moving around, mouthing at your pussy, tongue dipping into you, pulling out as much wetness as she could, smearing it around her chin. She didn’t bother holding back any groans or moans as she did, wanting you to know how much she loved eating pussy, and that yours was her fucking favourite. She could feel your hands on her head, fingers tangled into her hair, pulling just enough to drive her wild, to have her fluttering again already. Her tongue swiped up, flicking at your clit and you cried out, your thighs squeezing tight around her. With a wicked grin on her lips, she wrapped them around your clit and sunk two of her fingers back into you. 

“Oh god. M’ so close.”

Her fingers curled, dragging over your inner walls and three thrusts in she’d found the spot she was looking for, a silent moan on your lips as your pussy clenched around her. She sucked harder on your clit, tongue flicking against it as she fingered you faster, finger tips brushing the spongey spot each time. You squeezed around her harder, wetness trickling out, dripping down her wrist. Pleasure flew through you, your chest heaving, only able to pant, the tension deep in your stomach, deeper than you’d felt it before. 

“Don’t hold back.” She murmured, slightly slurred since she could barely drag herself away from your cunt and you did your best to nod, thighs quaking around her. “Trust me.” Her teeth nipped at your clit, “I’m a doctor.”

The laugh was lost on your lips the moment her mouth was back on you, all warm, wet and hungry, a moan that came from the back of your throat replacing it. Her fingers pressed again, longer, harder and her tongue danced over your throbbing nub. 

You were a whimpering mess.

A wet, whimpering mess. 

And mere seconds away from coming.

Amelia’s free hand slunk up your body, pawing at your tits, her finger and thumb pinching a nipple between them in the same second she sucked hard, her other fingers hitting just where you wanted them and everything burst.

Your back arched off the bed, head thrown back as you cried out, a string of swears, muffled cries, and the chant of Amelia’s name. 

Music to her fucking ears. 

She couldn’t hold back the grin on her lips at the amount of liquid streaming out of your pussy, coating her fingers, smearing across her chin, streaming down her wrist. Mission accomplished. Number one checked off the list. With one last lick of her tongue, she lifted her face off you, slowly and gently fucking you through your orgasm, watching the way your thighs twitched, your body jolting until it shifted into a light shiver and she finally pulled her fingers from you.

“Well?” She asked, looking up at you with a wild grin and you huffed a laugh out.

“Maybe I should leave you alone to snoop around more often.”

She laughed, fingertips dancing over your puffy pussy, featherlight while she held your gaze. “Hmm, couldn’t help but notice you had face sitting on there too. Should I go again?”

“Oh, I’ve done that.” You replied with your own grin, “but get up here.” You tugged on her hand, “I want that dripping cunt on my lips.”

Amelia’s eyes darkened as need pulsed through her and she all but scrambled up the bed, more than happy to drop herself onto your face. 

_________ If you have any thoughts for future parts of this one, and more things on the list for reader and Amelia to cross off, lmk!

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[laureala]

ADDISON & AMELIA

in Private Practice 5.04

[untiltheyleaveyou]

idk something about meredith in one of her henley tees and an old pair of jeans with those damn converse walking around on the arm of addison whose shoes alone cost $900. meredith and her slumped little gait while addison has the strutting confidence of a runway model. meanwhile no one has any idea that it's meredith who's the top and can make addie blush in record time just by saying something witty and deadpan and a little dirty.