Prompts 1, 3-5 for snoopythepooh (Paris/Rory, Callie/Addison)
Gellar's Anatomy
(Prompt #1; Can Paris and Rory keep their focus and their cool during an anatomy study date? Property of A-SP/DPDHP/H-P & WBTV.)
Her fingers are delicate upon me. She regards me as if I'm cast in marble, as if I'm not real and the vision of a chiseler. I have never felt this way before.
I close my eyes and feel a bit embarrassed as her hand caresses a tender spot.
"That's your diaphragm," she tells me in a voice that betrays her usual kindness.
She is near my diaphragm, but barely. The heel of her hand instead is brushing beneath the underside of my breasts. I gasp and hold back a moan. This is too much. My body is so sensitive.
"Correct," I say. I'm trying to keep my focus. But those haunting blue eyes of her continue to get to me. I point neutrally towards another part of my body. "What is this?" My voice somehow remains even and I attempt to bring focus back on the subject at hand.
But she's smiling. Her fingers run down my skin. She takes in my light scent and brings herself closer. Any attempt to lecture her on losing her focus is gone as my synapses are overwhelmed by the stimuli streaming up my spinal cord. I keep telling myself that this was a bad idea.
Why must I be a visual thinker all the sudden? For years I was quite happy to go by the book. Now all the sudden I'm acceding to the wishes of a girl I thought would be a thorn in my side in my journey to achieve the Chilton valedictorianship.
A girl who is my lover, no thanks to the hot Washington summer, a nosy boyfriend who never understood that she had no interest in her rebellious guy friend and my own curious hormones continually wondering what it would be like to kiss my rival. Which was beyond wonderful, I should say.
She leers in my direction as her thumb circles across the stiff flesh in a lascivious manner.
"That is your navel," she answers, then adds to her response further. "Or as you wanted it to be phrased, your umbilicus."
"They have said Latin is a dead language," I respond, very impressed.
"But you'll be using it every day...Dr. Gellar." She raises her eyebrows and giggles that laugh that always hits me hard, making me shudder coldly. She can even make an innocent future title sound incredibly erotic. "I'm glad you're helping me with this unit. Certainly this is so much better than digging through Encarta or having to depend on a Visible Man."
"So you love being hands-on?" I smile, noticing how heated her cheeks are.
"It's the only way to get messy." She moves her head down and lets her nose dip into the hollow of my navel. "Besides, it's incredible I have a beautiful living model to help me find my way into passing this class."
"Gilmore, this is completely educational. You could be doing this with Madeline just as well." She could, honestly.
However they just don't have the sparks. She also has a good reason for not studying with Madeline.
"Madeline would probably freak out if I did this." With permission long given she literally peels off my panties. Her innocent is such a turn-on to me, the fact that she's spent the last half-hour cataloging every part of my body from the tempula down under the thin exercise of her needing to brush up on her anatomy for a biology test to come in the next few days. Her proximity to me has of late kept me aroused in such a way that I have to change my underwear after school from driving her to Stars Hollow as she spiders her hand up my leg.
"You're not attracted to Madeline, are you?" I wonder teasingly.
She shakes her head. "Certainly she's lovely. But she can't hold much of a candle to you, Par. Nobody knows how much passion you hold in beneath your uniform."
A uniform now discarded on her bedroom floor. Not that it was important in that moment as she continued to pore over my body in a combination of serious study and hardly pious notions of what she wanted to do.
She fluttered her lips along my midsection, reaching my waist.
"We should be serious," I comment. "This unit is at least 40% of your non-exam semester grade. Certainly you should apply your all to the material."
I can't deny her...ahem, zeal for the subject. Her attention to anatomical detail is amazing. She has not missed one answer, nor one opportunity to further the pleasure she derives from having me in this state. She takes in my scent and her tongue takes in a bare hint of my taste upon my sodden mound.
"I'm sure that thanks to your help I shouldn't have a problem easily passing this test." Her sexual growl gets to me as she prepares to do much more than name off further features in a rote manner.
"Labia minora." Her fingers open my folds and take in my womanhood.
"Yesss," I hiss out, honestly in reaction to her answer. Her slim little tongue which has finessed the best debates this school has ever seen slides up.
Her memory is impeccable. "Vulval vestibule."
My voice strains and I can't speak normally. "Correct," I strain out with a high pitch.
"I'm getting really good at this." Her smug declaration would usually piss me off but in this case I would love to make an exception. My breathing picks up and I felt that involuntary reflex to close around her. Higher...higher...
God, I want to be put of my misery. The way she's going about this study session I should have probably prepared better before I realized she didn't want to do a read and recite. For one thing it was an error on my part to go with my favorite comfy cotton panties instead of...
"Paris?" She looks up at me and those eyes are telling my mind to shut the fuck up.
Usually I'm ready to tell her this is untoward behavior and we need to get back on track.
But her tongue? It is just right there. Right on the tip. Like there are nanometers between the surface of her tongue tip and the only way I can be defeated in any manner.
She looks back down. There's no need to ask permission. No need to elaborate. If she doesn't pass that test, it won't be from her hand.
Rory names the final body part.
"Clitoridis."
And she names it as the tip circles across that exact part upon the L, the T, and finally, the D.
Good fucking Lord. If it is actually true Dean had the incredible stupidity of turning down a blowjob as Jess has told me, I'm glad he did. The opportunity to have Rory go down on me...
Oh fuck...oh God...
"YEEESSSSS!!" The word rumbles through my throat as if my body is begging for it to be screamed out.
If you'll excuse me, my hippocampus is begging for blood flow that has been redirected completely towards my internal iliac, uterine and vaginal arteries.
All I have to say is I hope this is covered anew on the final exam. Rory might need a refresher course...
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Everything Goes Better with Pie
(Prompt #3; Addison decides to cook for Callie. She ends up needing Sam's help. Sexy fun with food ensues when Callie comes home. Property of Shondaland/Mark Gordon/ABC Studios)
"Please have mercy." Addison bit down on her lip, taking in the incredibly sensual sight in front of her.
Callie's first month at St. Ambrose had been tough. Charlotte proved herself to be a much harsher boss than Webber ever could have been and was using her probation period more to use Callie as an effigial piñata for Oceanside and was attempting to make the Latina prove she belonged there. Every test and case would have brought a lesser doctor to tears, but Callie had passed them all with flying colors. Now instead of just finding her a minor convenience, Charlotte was beginning to express a fear that a few months down the line she might end up having to fend Callie off for chief of staff.
For now the drama of their professional lives could be forgotten however. After having a rare weekend off from the Wicked Bitch, Callie was pleased to come home after making a house call for a well-regarded patient in Orange County to find a wonderful dinner for her and her girlfriend prepared well by Sam, who did so to spare Dr. 'She Who Burns Easy Mac' Montgomery the embarrassment of attempting to cook a four course meal all by herself. It all turned out well, and they had moved on to dessert, thankful for their neighbor's lovely culinary skills.
Callie of course enjoying it, much to Addison's consternation. She was slowly consuming a hearty slice of sinful chocolate silk pie, doing all she could to show Addison her hunger would hardly be vanquished. Purposefully letting filling coat her lips so she could lick it off, she licked her fingers and tempted Addison to partake of the pie.
Why does she have to do everything so sensually? Addison thought as Callie approached her with a plate in hand.
"Don't you want some?" Callie cooed, her eyebrows raised and a bright smile across her face which was very suggestive. "I really have a taste for the finer things in life, and this is among them."
Shuddering in place Addison had no defenses as Callie scooped up another portion of pie and whipped cream and offered it to her willingly.
She could only force out an 'oh God' as she cursed Callie's house call attire of a blouse which flattered her assets, along with a tight skirt. Due to the stricter dress code of St. Ambrose Callie had to look more professional, and Addison was only too happy to help...
At least until she found her girlfriend undressing her with her eyes and making a proposition that would keep them mostly in their bedroom until Monday morning.
"I think we should finish this pie elsewhere in the house," Callie said with a whisper as her chocolate-coated lips brushed across Addison's. Both of them indulged in the kiss and after hearing Callie's giggle, Addison knew there was no way she could turn her Bonecrusher down in any way. Sam's pie was enjoyed by them both in ways he could've never pictured.
And when Addison had a chance to talk to Sam on Monday, she had that naughty glint in her eye and a confident stride within the halls of the practice.
"Your pie was delicious," she complimented with a smile.
"Umm, wow. Thank you." He was a bit in shock from the compliment, especially since the recipe was one passed down by his grandmother. "I'm really glad that you enjoyed it."
"Oh, I did." A small giggle. "And you know what else?"
Innocently Sam thought Addison was talking about another aspect of the dinner. "I don't know."
She lowered her voice so that only he could hear, and just as he sipped on his tea...
"Cal's also tastes quite divine." She winked and giggled, feeling particularly evil about her wording.
It paid off seconds later when Sam spit-took his tea all over the table. Addison was only too happy to share her happiness, and as Sam cursed her out a bit, she wondered how she could get more pie from her neighbor and boss in order to keep the flame burning very strong.
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Always There No Matter What
(Prompt #4a; Callie and Addison are aware of their attraction towards each other, but Callie is dating Charlotte. Can Addie keep herself from crossing the friendship line and remain supportive when Callie comes to her with engagement plans? Property of Shondaland/Mark Gordon/ABC Studios)
Callie sat on the edge of the bed in Addison's room after revealing why her and Charlotte had gone to Catalina over the weekend.
Addison was still trying to understand what her best friend told her. She knew she should be supportive, but the relationship her and Callie had shared since they met in Seattle was complicated, to say the least.
They knew they had a large attraction to each other and had acted on it many times since the end of the relationship with Erica. Sometimes from a distance, sometimes up close. But Addison for some reason hung on to that thread that she would be able to find herself in a loving relationship with someone else. Her reasoning was that she loved Callie, but not enough to give her heart fully.
At first it was fine when there wasn't a chance that Callie would ever find a significant other again.
But then she ended up attending at St. Ambrose. She happened to spend many hours with Charlotte, the complete 180° of Addison. The redhead thought there was no chance at all either of them would end up in a relationship.
Eight months later, visiting on a consult, she ended up finding the blonde and her friend in an on-call room doing much more than what a boss/employee relationship would allow. She pretty much accepted them out of hand, despite her nagging feelings that she had missed her chance.
There was always that thought in the front of her mind rationalizing that Charlotte would go off and screw up the relationship in some way, allowing her to regain that chance. She always expected it to end because the woman was so obsessed with quality and detail that she likely would criticize Callie if her bedding technique was off by three degrees.
But it wasn't to be. Charlotte calmed in Callie's presence. She treated Oceanside less as a wacky Scooby Gang that got in her way of regular medicine with 'that damned alternative zen new age crap.' There were times where it seemed she was utterly happy and not even the smallest of meddling got in her way. Although Callie was a centering influence between both the hospital and the practice, it seemed like it came mainly because of her relationship with Charlotte.
However even through all of that, through Charlotte growing to love Callie, the raven-haired ortho goddess was still the best of friends with Addison.
The complication was the attraction that all three knew was there between Callie and Addison. They held back purposefully and promised Charlotte there would be no attempt at turning that relationship from friends to lovers, especially when Callie loved Charlotte.
However the raven-haired beauty knew she was lying through her teeth.
She still nursed a long crush on Addison that would have to suffice through the occasional touches, brushing of hands, and other triggers which made her recoil that she could ever betray her new love.
Explaining how Charlotte had proposed to her and the aftermath of her accepting it, she was prepared to lose her friendship to Addison. To not have her as a bridesmaid, or stand with her in front of the pressure of her parents.
Instead, she found support. Addison hugged her and congratulated her, even though deep within she felt as if she was losing her only chance to find love ever again. She would have to suffice helping Callie compile her wedding registry and do everything she could to make sure that her buddy had the dream wedding of a lifetime. She would support her friend, even if it choked her heart everytime she had to look at her rival at St. Ambrose as much more than that in the future.
In the darkest reaches of her mind however, she was really hoping that Charlotte might reconsider or have an affair. Or she could be a white knight when the blonde's bachelorette party went way too far.
For now though, support was all Callie needed. That is what she could give. As the two women hugged though, they still felt that flutter of regret of what might have been and could be was likely extinguished forever.
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The Dreaded 3am Phone Call
(Prompt #4b; Can Addie keep herself from crossing the friendship line and remain supportive when Callie comes to her with engagement plans? Property of Shondaland/Mark Gordon/ABC Studios)
AN - This is the story I wrote mistakenly using only the second half of prompt 4, which was split into two tweets, proving that sometimes even I overlook ellipses. Since it was complete after I noticed and I couldn't bear not to post it, I have decided to post it here anyways :).)
Addison knew frantic 3am calls from a certain Seattle telephone number meant one of either three things.
Callie maybe had left her phone in her jeans pocket and fell asleep with them on; since the #5 contact was Addison, she was the most victimized when Callie butt-dialed. It was her fault really; as the 'middle friend', the 5 key was naturally the place where Callie found her calm.
Then there were the nights Callie imbibed just a little too much at Joe's and would let her loose lips carry on for at least an hour. Those mornings, Addie went into Oceanside sneaking one of those tiny 5 Hour energy shots in with her coffee to focus.
The final 3am call category were the real panic moments where the olive-skinned woman lost her way in the world and needed her 'skinny-ass buddy' to get her back on the right track.
"Hello?" She flopped back into bed tired trying to get back to sleep. "Torres, you know I'm bitchy at this hour."
"I know...but I finally got her asleep. I need to talk."
"Talk about what?"
"Can you come up this weekend?"
"Cal, you know I have--'
'We're eloping. In Vancouver. Yeah, yeah, Washington state and nowhere within a thousand-mile radius of Council Bluffs south of the 49th is going to actually recognize the thing, but--"
"Wait!" She was up like a light. "Elope?"
"Yeah. It's cheaper than flying into Boston and we have passports."
"You're getting married."
"I am."
"Who asked?"
"She did. Out of the blue. Didn't expect it but she was right, we should settle down."
"So what are you saying?"
"I need a witness, a bridesmaid, flower girl and maid of honor all in one. Seeing as I'd puke if Stevens did that for me, it's up to you."
"But you met four months ago!"
"We got through a rough spot. Had to reveal that whole LVAD mess but hey, I didn't do it. She commended me on my guts."
"But...but..."
"Ads, will you do it for me? Please? I promise you I'll pay to put you up in a nice hotel."
"Callie it's just that..."
"You need to get permission from Nai to get time off. I'm sure she will. I'll call when she gets to work in a few hours."
"Hold on, I need--"
"I promise you, no Elvis impersonators. Knowing Vancouver it'll probably be some Universal Life-accredited Dana Scully impersonator. Do they have them? I'm sure they do, I mean...well hopefully I get a normal wedding."
"Callie, will you--"
"I'll talk to you more in the next couple days. Check your express mail, the plane tickets'll be in by the morning. Until then, thanks for letting me tell you the news."
"Bu--"
"Bye, Addie!" (click)
"But I was going to tell you this is too fast and I...still want a chance." The phone went silent for the twenty seconds before the dial tone opened up and the redhead didn't move from the phone at all. "Ahh, damn it!" She threw the handset towards a hamper in the corner and sulked out of bed, throwing the sheet over her arms. She sighed and tried to figure out why her best friend would be so impulsive.
Most likely it was rebellion against her father, who pretty much hit on every American Family Association talking point when he found out his daughter was in love with a woman.
Even as she encouraged them Addison always hoped that she would be the one to win Callie in the end. When she was let go she would finally acknowledge what she could have done in her time at Grace.
Instead she was in her closet, looking for the perfect bridesmaid dress to wear as she witnessed Callie take on the last name Hahn in a few days. She knew logic was faulty, but love was always true.
She had to be there for her friend. And she would make sure to make it clear to Erica she had dibs on fixing Callie's heart if she ever dared to break it.
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The Secret Rumba, Revealed
(Prompt #5; Addison coming to visit Callie in Seattle is no big deal. So why is Cristina so bothered by the noises coming from Callie's room? Property of Shondaland/Mark Gordon/ABC Studios, while Pitbull (and the song mentioned herein) is an artist with Jive Records, while a certain game mentioned herein known to the most hardcore of Sara fans is the property of Sony Computer Entertainment of America ;).)
Cristina usually loathed sleep. Mainly because it got in the way of her craft. It was an necessary evil, a part of the natural process. She was pissed at Mother Nature for continuing to insist that eight hours rest was awesome, while six hours were the minimum needed to function.
However her nights as of late have been sleepless. She knows Addison is coming to soothe her roommate in the next few days. The neo-natal surgeon wants to help her cope with the aftermath of Erica and the 'what never should have been' with Sadie. She knew that the women would always be close. That like her, they were at Grace to work, not treat the regional medical center as if it was a dating service or the setting for a soap opera.
That was Meredith. Cristina enjoyed Callie because usually she was sane. Sure, her relationship choices were a little off, but in the OR with a kid she seemed as cheery as that Um-Jammer-Lammy character from that game her dorm buddies had her play when she had to share a room at pre-med.
Oddly that character sounded just like Callie. But Cristina had to let that thought go lest it drive her into a psych ward...
What she couldn't let go was that Callie seemed to yammer on the phone for hours. Often loudly. Sometimes she would even hop on the laptop and enjoy the advantages of Skype to see her friend in Santa Monica in as much living color as Qwest and Comcast would let them have. Hours upon hours the women would talk about everything and anything. Sometimes the talking was serious, at other times joking and maybe filled in the background with a boombox blaring out Callie's favorite current music.
After a month they made the plans. However a week or so before, Cristina noticed a changing tenor in their talking. Usually able to filter it into easily ignorable Charlie Brown Hornspeak, she tried to argue with herself that she was just being a Mrs. Kravitz. "They aren't doing that!" she would declare.
But the thought haunted her the next night and into the next. Cristina tried to distract herself with naughty thoughts about Owen but they weren't cooperating to allow her to find a distraction. The music, which used to be soft, became the type she had seen Callie dance to in the club often. The type with booming beats and an aggressive type of lyricism. Cristina tried to ignore it.
By this evening though the woman had enough as she attempted to study a textbook. She slammed it down onto the table. "Damn it!" She threw on a raggedy terry-cloth robe and rushed out her bedroom. "I don't pay $1,200-something a month to provide this woman a dance pad for her Dance Dance Hero Band fantasies!" She went into the room assuming that Callie was unwinding to a chat with Addison while playing a game of some kind at the same time. She kept hearing a lyric of "You know you want me, you know I want you" repeating too many times for her liking, then a countdown in rushed Spanish by a guy who apparently was named after a number-slash-type of dog. "Who would call themselves Mister 305?" Cristina observed as she let her hand clasp onto the doorknob.
She twisted it and whipped the door open ready to tell Callie to either stop dancing or as the intense surgeon thought it, 'fraggle rocking' her enemies in a 'shooting-them-up'.
"Callie, will you plea--"
As the door opened Cristina never thought of covering her eyes or assuring her roommate's privacy. Heck, she didn't even think to knock on the door.
She quickly realized that mistake as she did not catch Callie mid-frag. Much less mid-getting down on the hardwood floor.
Oh, she was getting down all right. Just in a way Cristina wasn't used to. As the passionate woman turned her head in shock towards her fellow colleague she quickly realized that there was more than met the eye.
Also, that there wasn't a thread of clothing on her person.
Nor was her hand doing many innocent things.
"OH MY GOD!!" Immediately in a panic Cristina closed her eyes as Callie threw a blanket across her naked form. She had been laying on the bed with her laptop off to the side. "OHHH!!"
"Cristina, what are you doing in here?!" She began to cover up and really was hoping for a sudden internet problem.
The reliability of the Internet would remain. However, the assumed purity of Drs. Torres and Montgomery just being friends would disappear like a bad AOL connection.
Before Callie could even touch her computer or close the call...
"FUCK YES! Oh fuck, Callie! I want you, baby. I want to fuck you until you break me. I want you, I want you! I want my--"
Callie quickly mashed down hard on the mute button and then with her sheet wrapped around her stumbled to turn down the music as Cristina stood in place in a state of shock.
With the sheet wrapped around her very loosely Callie finally stood eye to eye with Cristina, completely mortified. Silence was shared between them and on the screen a partially nude Addison was muted but realized quickly that not only was Callie not volleying the ball back, but someone else had joined the party through panicked profanity and embarrassment.
"Cristina." Not much could be said. "Ummm...you want me to turn down the music?"
Music? I'd want you to do more but I'm just shocked here! Still the white elephant in the room had to be shuffled by carefully. "Headphones at least?"
Callie nodded. "Yeah. I can do that. Headphones are fine. I have headphones and I can...get my jam on that way."
"Probably for the best."
"Mm-hmm."
"Yeah." Callie looked down towards the open computer, where her long-distance lover was wound up and desperate for more 'conversation' with her friend. "Umm, I should get back. She's getting all squirrelly."
"You should," Cristina responded almost mechanically. "I say hello, if you could let her know that."
"Can do." The slimmer woman backed towards the door trying not to notice the wrapped sheet was sliding down Callie's form.
Somehow the topic had to be addressed, even if it was blunt.
"Callie?"
"Mm-hmm?"
"I assume you want the apartment alone next week?"
"No, that's fine--"
"I insist," Cristina bit out. "Either this or I'm asking you both to stay dressed all week."
A deep blush. "You wouldn't."
Cristina pushed out a small 'I will tell Webber'-type grin. "I would."
Rolling her eyes and desperately looking for release Callie needed to say something.
"Fine, I want the apartment alone next week."
"Good, I'll make other arrangements." The Korean woman shook her head and tut-tutted. "Damn, I had you hooking up with Addison months before."
"Wha--" Before she could get a word out edgewise Callie found her door closed and her privacy reestablished, although now she had to deal with teasing from her red-haired flame that she needed to get a lock for her door.
And on the other side as she flopped onto the couch on the living room, Cristina grabbed her cell, grumbling as she dug through her phone directory numerically to look for the one man who would hopefully keep her sane tonight and the next week while she stayed with him. The sleepy man picked up.
"Yang, what the--"
"Owen, this isn't gonna happen again for a long time so you better just get into the moment and know this is me being romantic. I've had a long night, I can't sleep and my roommate who I just walked in on naked is giving an Internet strip show to her girl involving a soundtrack sung by a Spanish guy who named himself after a vicious dog."
"Cri--"
"Ask me what I'm wearing."
Sure, if it ever got out she was turned on this badly from her intense thoughts, she would single-handedly fill the andrology unit due to a sudden rise in broken ball incidents. But in that moment all she knew was Addison and Callie were going to spend a whole week in her apartment having sex in every conceivable position, and she certainly needed to prove she could keep up with the Torres.
And hey, it's Owen. Doesn't hurt that it's Owen at all. It'll be good to know the both of us out-slutted Grey for once.
Webber would never figure out the miracle the next week of Cristina being in a "Mary Poppins-on-crack" mood, nor why Callie took so much time off. But one secretive look during a session of rounds, the two women were bound to make sure what happened in their apartment stayed in their apartment.
Even if they had to add the three words "ARE YOU NAKED?" to their greeting repertoire from that night on.
(Prompt #1; Can Paris and Rory keep their focus and their cool during an anatomy study date? Property of A-SP/DPDHP/H-P & WBTV.)
Her fingers are delicate upon me. She regards me as if I'm cast in marble, as if I'm not real and the vision of a chiseler. I have never felt this way before.
I close my eyes and feel a bit embarrassed as her hand caresses a tender spot.
"That's your diaphragm," she tells me in a voice that betrays her usual kindness.
She is near my diaphragm, but barely. The heel of her hand instead is brushing beneath the underside of my breasts. I gasp and hold back a moan. This is too much. My body is so sensitive.
"Correct," I say. I'm trying to keep my focus. But those haunting blue eyes of her continue to get to me. I point neutrally towards another part of my body. "What is this?" My voice somehow remains even and I attempt to bring focus back on the subject at hand.
But she's smiling. Her fingers run down my skin. She takes in my light scent and brings herself closer. Any attempt to lecture her on losing her focus is gone as my synapses are overwhelmed by the stimuli streaming up my spinal cord. I keep telling myself that this was a bad idea.
Why must I be a visual thinker all the sudden? For years I was quite happy to go by the book. Now all the sudden I'm acceding to the wishes of a girl I thought would be a thorn in my side in my journey to achieve the Chilton valedictorianship.
A girl who is my lover, no thanks to the hot Washington summer, a nosy boyfriend who never understood that she had no interest in her rebellious guy friend and my own curious hormones continually wondering what it would be like to kiss my rival. Which was beyond wonderful, I should say.
She leers in my direction as her thumb circles across the stiff flesh in a lascivious manner.
"That is your navel," she answers, then adds to her response further. "Or as you wanted it to be phrased, your umbilicus."
"They have said Latin is a dead language," I respond, very impressed.
"But you'll be using it every day...Dr. Gellar." She raises her eyebrows and giggles that laugh that always hits me hard, making me shudder coldly. She can even make an innocent future title sound incredibly erotic. "I'm glad you're helping me with this unit. Certainly this is so much better than digging through Encarta or having to depend on a Visible Man."
"So you love being hands-on?" I smile, noticing how heated her cheeks are.
"It's the only way to get messy." She moves her head down and lets her nose dip into the hollow of my navel. "Besides, it's incredible I have a beautiful living model to help me find my way into passing this class."
"Gilmore, this is completely educational. You could be doing this with Madeline just as well." She could, honestly.
However they just don't have the sparks. She also has a good reason for not studying with Madeline.
"Madeline would probably freak out if I did this." With permission long given she literally peels off my panties. Her innocent is such a turn-on to me, the fact that she's spent the last half-hour cataloging every part of my body from the tempula down under the thin exercise of her needing to brush up on her anatomy for a biology test to come in the next few days. Her proximity to me has of late kept me aroused in such a way that I have to change my underwear after school from driving her to Stars Hollow as she spiders her hand up my leg.
"You're not attracted to Madeline, are you?" I wonder teasingly.
She shakes her head. "Certainly she's lovely. But she can't hold much of a candle to you, Par. Nobody knows how much passion you hold in beneath your uniform."
A uniform now discarded on her bedroom floor. Not that it was important in that moment as she continued to pore over my body in a combination of serious study and hardly pious notions of what she wanted to do.
She fluttered her lips along my midsection, reaching my waist.
"We should be serious," I comment. "This unit is at least 40% of your non-exam semester grade. Certainly you should apply your all to the material."
I can't deny her...ahem, zeal for the subject. Her attention to anatomical detail is amazing. She has not missed one answer, nor one opportunity to further the pleasure she derives from having me in this state. She takes in my scent and her tongue takes in a bare hint of my taste upon my sodden mound.
"I'm sure that thanks to your help I shouldn't have a problem easily passing this test." Her sexual growl gets to me as she prepares to do much more than name off further features in a rote manner.
"Labia minora." Her fingers open my folds and take in my womanhood.
"Yesss," I hiss out, honestly in reaction to her answer. Her slim little tongue which has finessed the best debates this school has ever seen slides up.
Her memory is impeccable. "Vulval vestibule."
My voice strains and I can't speak normally. "Correct," I strain out with a high pitch.
"I'm getting really good at this." Her smug declaration would usually piss me off but in this case I would love to make an exception. My breathing picks up and I felt that involuntary reflex to close around her. Higher...higher...
God, I want to be put of my misery. The way she's going about this study session I should have probably prepared better before I realized she didn't want to do a read and recite. For one thing it was an error on my part to go with my favorite comfy cotton panties instead of...
"Paris?" She looks up at me and those eyes are telling my mind to shut the fuck up.
Usually I'm ready to tell her this is untoward behavior and we need to get back on track.
But her tongue? It is just right there. Right on the tip. Like there are nanometers between the surface of her tongue tip and the only way I can be defeated in any manner.
She looks back down. There's no need to ask permission. No need to elaborate. If she doesn't pass that test, it won't be from her hand.
Rory names the final body part.
"Clitoridis."
And she names it as the tip circles across that exact part upon the L, the T, and finally, the D.
Good fucking Lord. If it is actually true Dean had the incredible stupidity of turning down a blowjob as Jess has told me, I'm glad he did. The opportunity to have Rory go down on me...
Oh fuck...oh God...
"YEEESSSSS!!" The word rumbles through my throat as if my body is begging for it to be screamed out.
If you'll excuse me, my hippocampus is begging for blood flow that has been redirected completely towards my internal iliac, uterine and vaginal arteries.
All I have to say is I hope this is covered anew on the final exam. Rory might need a refresher course...
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Everything Goes Better with Pie
(Prompt #3; Addison decides to cook for Callie. She ends up needing Sam's help. Sexy fun with food ensues when Callie comes home. Property of Shondaland/Mark Gordon/ABC Studios)
"Please have mercy." Addison bit down on her lip, taking in the incredibly sensual sight in front of her.
Callie's first month at St. Ambrose had been tough. Charlotte proved herself to be a much harsher boss than Webber ever could have been and was using her probation period more to use Callie as an effigial piñata for Oceanside and was attempting to make the Latina prove she belonged there. Every test and case would have brought a lesser doctor to tears, but Callie had passed them all with flying colors. Now instead of just finding her a minor convenience, Charlotte was beginning to express a fear that a few months down the line she might end up having to fend Callie off for chief of staff.
For now the drama of their professional lives could be forgotten however. After having a rare weekend off from the Wicked Bitch, Callie was pleased to come home after making a house call for a well-regarded patient in Orange County to find a wonderful dinner for her and her girlfriend prepared well by Sam, who did so to spare Dr. 'She Who Burns Easy Mac' Montgomery the embarrassment of attempting to cook a four course meal all by herself. It all turned out well, and they had moved on to dessert, thankful for their neighbor's lovely culinary skills.
Callie of course enjoying it, much to Addison's consternation. She was slowly consuming a hearty slice of sinful chocolate silk pie, doing all she could to show Addison her hunger would hardly be vanquished. Purposefully letting filling coat her lips so she could lick it off, she licked her fingers and tempted Addison to partake of the pie.
Why does she have to do everything so sensually? Addison thought as Callie approached her with a plate in hand.
"Don't you want some?" Callie cooed, her eyebrows raised and a bright smile across her face which was very suggestive. "I really have a taste for the finer things in life, and this is among them."
Shuddering in place Addison had no defenses as Callie scooped up another portion of pie and whipped cream and offered it to her willingly.
She could only force out an 'oh God' as she cursed Callie's house call attire of a blouse which flattered her assets, along with a tight skirt. Due to the stricter dress code of St. Ambrose Callie had to look more professional, and Addison was only too happy to help...
At least until she found her girlfriend undressing her with her eyes and making a proposition that would keep them mostly in their bedroom until Monday morning.
"I think we should finish this pie elsewhere in the house," Callie said with a whisper as her chocolate-coated lips brushed across Addison's. Both of them indulged in the kiss and after hearing Callie's giggle, Addison knew there was no way she could turn her Bonecrusher down in any way. Sam's pie was enjoyed by them both in ways he could've never pictured.
And when Addison had a chance to talk to Sam on Monday, she had that naughty glint in her eye and a confident stride within the halls of the practice.
"Your pie was delicious," she complimented with a smile.
"Umm, wow. Thank you." He was a bit in shock from the compliment, especially since the recipe was one passed down by his grandmother. "I'm really glad that you enjoyed it."
"Oh, I did." A small giggle. "And you know what else?"
Innocently Sam thought Addison was talking about another aspect of the dinner. "I don't know."
She lowered her voice so that only he could hear, and just as he sipped on his tea...
"Cal's also tastes quite divine." She winked and giggled, feeling particularly evil about her wording.
It paid off seconds later when Sam spit-took his tea all over the table. Addison was only too happy to share her happiness, and as Sam cursed her out a bit, she wondered how she could get more pie from her neighbor and boss in order to keep the flame burning very strong.
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Always There No Matter What
(Prompt #4a; Callie and Addison are aware of their attraction towards each other, but Callie is dating Charlotte. Can Addie keep herself from crossing the friendship line and remain supportive when Callie comes to her with engagement plans? Property of Shondaland/Mark Gordon/ABC Studios)
Callie sat on the edge of the bed in Addison's room after revealing why her and Charlotte had gone to Catalina over the weekend.
Addison was still trying to understand what her best friend told her. She knew she should be supportive, but the relationship her and Callie had shared since they met in Seattle was complicated, to say the least.
They knew they had a large attraction to each other and had acted on it many times since the end of the relationship with Erica. Sometimes from a distance, sometimes up close. But Addison for some reason hung on to that thread that she would be able to find herself in a loving relationship with someone else. Her reasoning was that she loved Callie, but not enough to give her heart fully.
At first it was fine when there wasn't a chance that Callie would ever find a significant other again.
But then she ended up attending at St. Ambrose. She happened to spend many hours with Charlotte, the complete 180° of Addison. The redhead thought there was no chance at all either of them would end up in a relationship.
Eight months later, visiting on a consult, she ended up finding the blonde and her friend in an on-call room doing much more than what a boss/employee relationship would allow. She pretty much accepted them out of hand, despite her nagging feelings that she had missed her chance.
There was always that thought in the front of her mind rationalizing that Charlotte would go off and screw up the relationship in some way, allowing her to regain that chance. She always expected it to end because the woman was so obsessed with quality and detail that she likely would criticize Callie if her bedding technique was off by three degrees.
But it wasn't to be. Charlotte calmed in Callie's presence. She treated Oceanside less as a wacky Scooby Gang that got in her way of regular medicine with 'that damned alternative zen new age crap.' There were times where it seemed she was utterly happy and not even the smallest of meddling got in her way. Although Callie was a centering influence between both the hospital and the practice, it seemed like it came mainly because of her relationship with Charlotte.
However even through all of that, through Charlotte growing to love Callie, the raven-haired ortho goddess was still the best of friends with Addison.
The complication was the attraction that all three knew was there between Callie and Addison. They held back purposefully and promised Charlotte there would be no attempt at turning that relationship from friends to lovers, especially when Callie loved Charlotte.
However the raven-haired beauty knew she was lying through her teeth.
She still nursed a long crush on Addison that would have to suffice through the occasional touches, brushing of hands, and other triggers which made her recoil that she could ever betray her new love.
Explaining how Charlotte had proposed to her and the aftermath of her accepting it, she was prepared to lose her friendship to Addison. To not have her as a bridesmaid, or stand with her in front of the pressure of her parents.
Instead, she found support. Addison hugged her and congratulated her, even though deep within she felt as if she was losing her only chance to find love ever again. She would have to suffice helping Callie compile her wedding registry and do everything she could to make sure that her buddy had the dream wedding of a lifetime. She would support her friend, even if it choked her heart everytime she had to look at her rival at St. Ambrose as much more than that in the future.
In the darkest reaches of her mind however, she was really hoping that Charlotte might reconsider or have an affair. Or she could be a white knight when the blonde's bachelorette party went way too far.
For now though, support was all Callie needed. That is what she could give. As the two women hugged though, they still felt that flutter of regret of what might have been and could be was likely extinguished forever.
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The Dreaded 3am Phone Call
(Prompt #4b; Can Addie keep herself from crossing the friendship line and remain supportive when Callie comes to her with engagement plans? Property of Shondaland/Mark Gordon/ABC Studios)
AN - This is the story I wrote mistakenly using only the second half of prompt 4, which was split into two tweets, proving that sometimes even I overlook ellipses. Since it was complete after I noticed and I couldn't bear not to post it, I have decided to post it here anyways :).)
Addison knew frantic 3am calls from a certain Seattle telephone number meant one of either three things.
Callie maybe had left her phone in her jeans pocket and fell asleep with them on; since the #5 contact was Addison, she was the most victimized when Callie butt-dialed. It was her fault really; as the 'middle friend', the 5 key was naturally the place where Callie found her calm.
Then there were the nights Callie imbibed just a little too much at Joe's and would let her loose lips carry on for at least an hour. Those mornings, Addie went into Oceanside sneaking one of those tiny 5 Hour energy shots in with her coffee to focus.
The final 3am call category were the real panic moments where the olive-skinned woman lost her way in the world and needed her 'skinny-ass buddy' to get her back on the right track.
"Hello?" She flopped back into bed tired trying to get back to sleep. "Torres, you know I'm bitchy at this hour."
"I know...but I finally got her asleep. I need to talk."
"Talk about what?"
"Can you come up this weekend?"
"Cal, you know I have--'
'We're eloping. In Vancouver. Yeah, yeah, Washington state and nowhere within a thousand-mile radius of Council Bluffs south of the 49th is going to actually recognize the thing, but--"
"Wait!" She was up like a light. "Elope?"
"Yeah. It's cheaper than flying into Boston and we have passports."
"You're getting married."
"I am."
"Who asked?"
"She did. Out of the blue. Didn't expect it but she was right, we should settle down."
"So what are you saying?"
"I need a witness, a bridesmaid, flower girl and maid of honor all in one. Seeing as I'd puke if Stevens did that for me, it's up to you."
"But you met four months ago!"
"We got through a rough spot. Had to reveal that whole LVAD mess but hey, I didn't do it. She commended me on my guts."
"But...but..."
"Ads, will you do it for me? Please? I promise you I'll pay to put you up in a nice hotel."
"Callie it's just that..."
"You need to get permission from Nai to get time off. I'm sure she will. I'll call when she gets to work in a few hours."
"Hold on, I need--"
"I promise you, no Elvis impersonators. Knowing Vancouver it'll probably be some Universal Life-accredited Dana Scully impersonator. Do they have them? I'm sure they do, I mean...well hopefully I get a normal wedding."
"Callie, will you--"
"I'll talk to you more in the next couple days. Check your express mail, the plane tickets'll be in by the morning. Until then, thanks for letting me tell you the news."
"Bu--"
"Bye, Addie!" (click)
"But I was going to tell you this is too fast and I...still want a chance." The phone went silent for the twenty seconds before the dial tone opened up and the redhead didn't move from the phone at all. "Ahh, damn it!" She threw the handset towards a hamper in the corner and sulked out of bed, throwing the sheet over her arms. She sighed and tried to figure out why her best friend would be so impulsive.
Most likely it was rebellion against her father, who pretty much hit on every American Family Association talking point when he found out his daughter was in love with a woman.
Even as she encouraged them Addison always hoped that she would be the one to win Callie in the end. When she was let go she would finally acknowledge what she could have done in her time at Grace.
Instead she was in her closet, looking for the perfect bridesmaid dress to wear as she witnessed Callie take on the last name Hahn in a few days. She knew logic was faulty, but love was always true.
She had to be there for her friend. And she would make sure to make it clear to Erica she had dibs on fixing Callie's heart if she ever dared to break it.
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The Secret Rumba, Revealed
(Prompt #5; Addison coming to visit Callie in Seattle is no big deal. So why is Cristina so bothered by the noises coming from Callie's room? Property of Shondaland/Mark Gordon/ABC Studios, while Pitbull (and the song mentioned herein) is an artist with Jive Records, while a certain game mentioned herein known to the most hardcore of Sara fans is the property of Sony Computer Entertainment of America ;).)
Cristina usually loathed sleep. Mainly because it got in the way of her craft. It was an necessary evil, a part of the natural process. She was pissed at Mother Nature for continuing to insist that eight hours rest was awesome, while six hours were the minimum needed to function.
However her nights as of late have been sleepless. She knows Addison is coming to soothe her roommate in the next few days. The neo-natal surgeon wants to help her cope with the aftermath of Erica and the 'what never should have been' with Sadie. She knew that the women would always be close. That like her, they were at Grace to work, not treat the regional medical center as if it was a dating service or the setting for a soap opera.
That was Meredith. Cristina enjoyed Callie because usually she was sane. Sure, her relationship choices were a little off, but in the OR with a kid she seemed as cheery as that Um-Jammer-Lammy character from that game her dorm buddies had her play when she had to share a room at pre-med.
Oddly that character sounded just like Callie. But Cristina had to let that thought go lest it drive her into a psych ward...
What she couldn't let go was that Callie seemed to yammer on the phone for hours. Often loudly. Sometimes she would even hop on the laptop and enjoy the advantages of Skype to see her friend in Santa Monica in as much living color as Qwest and Comcast would let them have. Hours upon hours the women would talk about everything and anything. Sometimes the talking was serious, at other times joking and maybe filled in the background with a boombox blaring out Callie's favorite current music.
After a month they made the plans. However a week or so before, Cristina noticed a changing tenor in their talking. Usually able to filter it into easily ignorable Charlie Brown Hornspeak, she tried to argue with herself that she was just being a Mrs. Kravitz. "They aren't doing that!" she would declare.
But the thought haunted her the next night and into the next. Cristina tried to distract herself with naughty thoughts about Owen but they weren't cooperating to allow her to find a distraction. The music, which used to be soft, became the type she had seen Callie dance to in the club often. The type with booming beats and an aggressive type of lyricism. Cristina tried to ignore it.
By this evening though the woman had enough as she attempted to study a textbook. She slammed it down onto the table. "Damn it!" She threw on a raggedy terry-cloth robe and rushed out her bedroom. "I don't pay $1,200-something a month to provide this woman a dance pad for her Dance Dance Hero Band fantasies!" She went into the room assuming that Callie was unwinding to a chat with Addison while playing a game of some kind at the same time. She kept hearing a lyric of "You know you want me, you know I want you" repeating too many times for her liking, then a countdown in rushed Spanish by a guy who apparently was named after a number-slash-type of dog. "Who would call themselves Mister 305?" Cristina observed as she let her hand clasp onto the doorknob.
She twisted it and whipped the door open ready to tell Callie to either stop dancing or as the intense surgeon thought it, 'fraggle rocking' her enemies in a 'shooting-them-up'.
"Callie, will you plea--"
As the door opened Cristina never thought of covering her eyes or assuring her roommate's privacy. Heck, she didn't even think to knock on the door.
She quickly realized that mistake as she did not catch Callie mid-frag. Much less mid-getting down on the hardwood floor.
Oh, she was getting down all right. Just in a way Cristina wasn't used to. As the passionate woman turned her head in shock towards her fellow colleague she quickly realized that there was more than met the eye.
Also, that there wasn't a thread of clothing on her person.
Nor was her hand doing many innocent things.
"OH MY GOD!!" Immediately in a panic Cristina closed her eyes as Callie threw a blanket across her naked form. She had been laying on the bed with her laptop off to the side. "OHHH!!"
"Cristina, what are you doing in here?!" She began to cover up and really was hoping for a sudden internet problem.
The reliability of the Internet would remain. However, the assumed purity of Drs. Torres and Montgomery just being friends would disappear like a bad AOL connection.
Before Callie could even touch her computer or close the call...
"FUCK YES! Oh fuck, Callie! I want you, baby. I want to fuck you until you break me. I want you, I want you! I want my--"
Callie quickly mashed down hard on the mute button and then with her sheet wrapped around her stumbled to turn down the music as Cristina stood in place in a state of shock.
With the sheet wrapped around her very loosely Callie finally stood eye to eye with Cristina, completely mortified. Silence was shared between them and on the screen a partially nude Addison was muted but realized quickly that not only was Callie not volleying the ball back, but someone else had joined the party through panicked profanity and embarrassment.
"Cristina." Not much could be said. "Ummm...you want me to turn down the music?"
Music? I'd want you to do more but I'm just shocked here! Still the white elephant in the room had to be shuffled by carefully. "Headphones at least?"
Callie nodded. "Yeah. I can do that. Headphones are fine. I have headphones and I can...get my jam on that way."
"Probably for the best."
"Mm-hmm."
"Yeah." Callie looked down towards the open computer, where her long-distance lover was wound up and desperate for more 'conversation' with her friend. "Umm, I should get back. She's getting all squirrelly."
"You should," Cristina responded almost mechanically. "I say hello, if you could let her know that."
"Can do." The slimmer woman backed towards the door trying not to notice the wrapped sheet was sliding down Callie's form.
Somehow the topic had to be addressed, even if it was blunt.
"Callie?"
"Mm-hmm?"
"I assume you want the apartment alone next week?"
"No, that's fine--"
"I insist," Cristina bit out. "Either this or I'm asking you both to stay dressed all week."
A deep blush. "You wouldn't."
Cristina pushed out a small 'I will tell Webber'-type grin. "I would."
Rolling her eyes and desperately looking for release Callie needed to say something.
"Fine, I want the apartment alone next week."
"Good, I'll make other arrangements." The Korean woman shook her head and tut-tutted. "Damn, I had you hooking up with Addison months before."
"Wha--" Before she could get a word out edgewise Callie found her door closed and her privacy reestablished, although now she had to deal with teasing from her red-haired flame that she needed to get a lock for her door.
And on the other side as she flopped onto the couch on the living room, Cristina grabbed her cell, grumbling as she dug through her phone directory numerically to look for the one man who would hopefully keep her sane tonight and the next week while she stayed with him. The sleepy man picked up.
"Yang, what the--"
"Owen, this isn't gonna happen again for a long time so you better just get into the moment and know this is me being romantic. I've had a long night, I can't sleep and my roommate who I just walked in on naked is giving an Internet strip show to her girl involving a soundtrack sung by a Spanish guy who named himself after a vicious dog."
"Cri--"
"Ask me what I'm wearing."
Sure, if it ever got out she was turned on this badly from her intense thoughts, she would single-handedly fill the andrology unit due to a sudden rise in broken ball incidents. But in that moment all she knew was Addison and Callie were going to spend a whole week in her apartment having sex in every conceivable position, and she certainly needed to prove she could keep up with the Torres.
And hey, it's Owen. Doesn't hurt that it's Owen at all. It'll be good to know the both of us out-slutted Grey for once.
Webber would never figure out the miracle the next week of Cristina being in a "Mary Poppins-on-crack" mood, nor why Callie took so much time off. But one secretive look during a session of rounds, the two women were bound to make sure what happened in their apartment stayed in their apartment.
Even if they had to add the three words "ARE YOU NAKED?" to their greeting repertoire from that night on.