MerAdd Oneshots

What are you doing?

I needed it; I craved it. My lips touching it delicately, my mouth working it over and over, right down to the butt. My idle fingers twirling it as I brought it to meet my lips, the anticipation in my stomach as I knew what to expect, every goddamn time. It never disappointed, it never left me needing more or wanting anything else. Everything about it made me hate myself and love myself at the same time, simultaneously.

The deadly and dumb art of smoking.

Smoking, as proven by multiple different doctors on multiple different occasions, was a bad habit. It was something people picked up, and found hard to stop. An addiction, a compelling need to do something because your body craves it. Like dogs crave bones and children crave toys, I craved the smooth taste of cigarettes being inhaled deep into my lungs.

It was nasty, I'd be the first to admit that my guilty pleasure was utterly disgusting. But it was something I'd picked up as a rebellious and stupid teenager; a habit I'd dropped before, years ago, but had recently picked up yet again.

Working in a hospital, the entire premises was a smoke free zone, rightly so. But Joe's bar was a completely different story, and the need that boiled my blood wouldn't be shut down by anything but a cigarette. So, one night, I stood outside of the bar with a Marlboro light between my teeth, feeling the hot smoke encase me.

"You really shouldn't be smoking, you know"

The forever unimpressed voice of Meredith Grey sounded, as she shut the door to the bar behind her and took up residence next to me, leaning against the brick wall of the building.

I chuckled lowly, inhaling and then exhaling before answering. "I shouldn't, but I am. Marvellous how the art of free will works"

A pale hand plucked the cigarette out of my hand and dropped it to her feet, bringing up one delicate boot clad foot to deliver the crushing blow; my cigarette was with God now.

"Grey, is there something I can do for you?" I ask, annoyed, and already reaching for the half empty (or half full, depending on the way you looked at it) pack in my purse.

Her hand reached out to grasp my wrist, her eyes went from my purse, to my own eyes, and back again. "Don't bother lighting up another, Addison" her voice was firm, and something inside of me was excited by it. Something deep within me craved this more than a cigarette.

"Why are you smoking?" She asked me, still not releasing my wrist, as her hand dug into my purse for the pack she knew she'd find. The second her fingers wrapped around it, I knew I was fucked. No more smoking, not for the night anyway.

"I used to smoke as a kid; gave it up when I was twenty two, right before med school. In light of recent events, I am stressed enough to crave the nicotine like I need it to survive" I watched as she pocketed the pack, no doubt with the intentions of destroying it later.

"Derek is not a good enough reason to start smoking. Getting divorced isn't an explanation for slowly killing yourself from the inside out" she was close to me, hand forever gripping my wrist to keep it from making the lunge to her pocket that I'd been contemplating previously.

"Not Derek" I sigh, feeling the gin in my system start to demand some smoke as a guest. I hadn't drank much, I wasn't close to drunk, but alcohol was the milk to the cigarettes cookie. "I'm just having a hard time, I suppose. I'm exhausted and I'm constantly pissed off, I feel like I'm on edge every second of every day"

It was true; I felt like a bottle of nerves. Every bone in my body was tense, and it made me angry. I couldn't do much about it, but smoking, as I'd come to discover, relieved the tension, even for just a moment. It was enough for me to keep smoking, seeking the feeling of relief over and over despite the protest of my lungs and my profession.

"You" Meredith said promptly "need to get laid. You sound like you're a pent up mess of horny"

I sigh, not wanting to tell her she's right but also not wanting to deny it. I hadn't been touched in what felt like years, and it was getting old. High school ended, this was adulthood, and the seemingly only perk to adulthood was sex and unrequited love.

Scratch that, the last one isn't a perk. It's a a fucking shame.

"I know how you can stop smoking, for starters" Meredith tells me, determination in her voice "how much have you had to drink tonight?" She asks inquisitively.

"Not nearly enough" I mumble, irritated.

"Good" she praises, happy with my answer "now, do you trust me?" That was a loaded question; after all, she did sleep with my husband. But nonetheless, I nodded. Because Meredith and I have come a long way, and our developing friendship was one I had trust in.

"Then trust me" she says, pulling me close to her and backing me against the brick wall of the building. She pinned me in place, her entire body pressed up against mine, as one of her hands wiggles its way in between.

"What are you doing?" I ask, as it suddenly becomes apparent what she is doing.

"Wrap your arms around me, like a hug" she instructs, one of her arms, the one closest to the door of the bar, was around me. But the other, obstructed from sight, was in between our bodies and now, in between my legs.

Her hand had snaked its way up my skirt, and her nimble fingers moved my panties out of the way before she started stroking me. Gentle little touches, up and down my folds, a thumb brushing against my clit, it all felt so, so good.

I should've said no; I should've pushed her away as fast as she'd come on to me. But my body leaned into her, and just the feeling of her breasts pressing against my own was relieving the tension that flooded my body. She was doing me a favour, and a well appreciated one at that.

"Let me know if-" she starts, but I cut her off abruptly.

"If you stop, so help me Jesus you better be prepared to watch me smoke the entire pack in your pocket" I tell her, as my wetness pools between my thighs and her pointer finger slides easily into me. Slowly going in and out, a steady pace that made a world of difference.

"What if somebody sees us?" I ask, a gasp escaping my lips just as she slips a second finger in to join the first.

"They won't see much; we look like we're drunk hugging. Everyone drunk hugs" she explains, increasing her pace slightly and making the sensation that much stronger. Her thumb brushed my clit again, and again, and again.

I shuddered, grasping onto her as I didn't trust my own legs at the moment. Everything felt melted, relaxed. As my orgasm washed over me, I felt something I thought only smoking could make me feel.

Relief.

"You could do this, instead of smoking" she says, holding me close to her as I regain myself. Her hand strokes my hair as her hot breath speaks in my ear. "If you want, this could be your new addiction"

I pull away from Meredith slightly, to look her in the eyes.

"I've just found something new to do with my mouth"