onismstrikes

[onismstrikes]

Cooper’s breath hitched, just slightly, at the shift in her tone—that teasing, sultry edge wrapped in that familiar southern drawl. He met her smirk with one of his own, that boyish grin she’d somehow never grown tired of, even after all these years.

“Well,” he said, voice low as her kiss lingered, “suddenly I’m a lot more invested in staying awake.”

His hand trailed gently along her jaw as she pulled back, his eyes warm and full of something quieter—something more grateful than even words could manage. “I’ll make the popcorn. Real butter. Extra salt. Just the way you like it.”

He gave her one last kiss, softer this time, then stood with a stretch and a mock groan. “If you hear the smoke alarm, it’s because I’m making it with passion.”

With a wink thrown over his shoulder, he padded off toward the kitchen, already humming a little to himself—because somehow, after everything, he still got to come home to this.

She could hear in his voice just how much it had meant to him, but she understood. The people she missed were in LA, even Violet who she had grown closer to with the distance.

"The traffic will make me wanna pull my hair out. But it'll be nice seeing everyone. Maybe Mason will take the trip with us, have a real family vacation for once." The thought of seeing all four of her kids running across the beach together, it was what she had dreamed of when she was laying upside down pregnant with the girls.

The feeling of Cooper's hand grounded her, reminded her that in the hardest times, he was there for her. Sometimes, when the thoughts got too much and kept her up at all hours, she would lay there and look at him. They had been through so much together, and to know she always had a partner to turn to, it made all the difference.

"Maybe if you're good, instead of falling asleep, you'll get lucky." Charlotte let a smirk take over her lips, bringing her husbands hang to her face as she sat up, turning to press a kiss to his lips, one hand caressing his face. "Now go make the popcorn, I'll go ahead and pull the movie up."

[onismstrikes]

Megan’s laugh was soft and warm and completely wrecked — the kind that spilled out without filter, like Liz had just pulled it from the deepest part of her. Her eyes fluttered shut for a second, because damn, this woman had her — body, heart, soul, and whatever was left in between.

When Liz’s hand slid to her thigh and mirrored the gentle circles Megan had been tracing earlier, it made her exhale shakily, pressing even closer like it was the only way to keep from completely unraveling.

She opened her eyes again, caught in the brightness of Liz’s smile, the crinkles by her eyes, that look of genuine happiness Megan would fight to protect with everything she had.

“You get to kiss me in the scrub room,” Megan murmured, her fingers dragging slowly up Liz’s spine like she was trying to memorize her all over again. “You get to distract me in the OR with that ridiculous singing voice—” she teased, eyes sparkling as her forehead brushed Liz’s again “—and you get to come home with me after shifts and make me forget every ounce of stress I’ve ever carried.”

She tilted her head slightly, stealing another kiss — short, but charged, filled with promise.

“And just so we’re clear,” Megan added, her voice dropping an octave as she grinned against Liz’s lips, “I plan on being the most inappropriate co-worker now. You’ve unleashed a monster.”

Her arms wrapped around Liz’s waist as she laughed quietly again, resting her forehead to Liz’s shoulder for a beat, feeling that rush of comfort and wild affection all at once.

“I don’t know how I got this lucky,” she said, muffled slightly against Liz’s skin. “But I’m never letting it go.”

The tight grip, the shiver that Liz felt run through Megan's body and clench of her jaw, it sealed the tightness in her chest. The effect she could tell her words had on the woman they were directed at, it confirmed for her that Megan was in this as much as she was, that she was just as far gone.

She leaned into the kiss, her hand brushing down Megan's side before gently gripping the other woman's thigh, rubbing gently in circles just as Megan had done to her as her eyes closed and she let the moment take over. It was a slow burning flame that turned into a wildfire.

She didn't pull away. She didn't want to. If she could stay here in Megan Hunt's arms forever, she would. So she was happy when Megan didn't fully pull away, still close enough that they were touching and that she could feel her breath. And the low tone of her lover's voice went right though her. The topic at hand alone was enough to make her cheeks heat up, but hearing Megan agree with it? That made a pink tint start to deepen on Liz's cheeks.

And the affirmation. God, it made her feel seen. It was another reinforcement that she wasn't going to walk away. That she was in this. Her going to Amelia had proven that but with every breath and look in her direction, it was reinforced. And she felt it in her bones, that reassurance that this was right and real.

"So does that mean I get to keep kissing you in the scrub room?" The smile on her face was so bright, the kind of smile that brought out the tiny crinkles beside her eyes, that made her entire body feel like jello. "And keep serenading you in the OR?"

[onismstrikes]

Finnley’s laugh was soft but genuine, her smile tugging a little wider as she leaned against the counter, setting her mug down carefully. “Noted. I’ll make sure to assess the vibe before committing to any full choreography.”

She glanced at the array of bagels like they were rare gems. “You had me at brown sugar cream cheese—I didn’t even know that was a thing, and now it feels like a core memory waiting to happen.”

Her eyes lingered on Vic a beat longer than casual. She wasn’t trying to be obvious, but wow. It was a lot to take in at 7 a.m., especially when she’d barely slept and was still adjusting to the rhythm of the station. “I’m Finnley, by the way. New-ish,” she added with a slight shrug. “Social worker. Mostly I’m just trying not to get in anyone’s way while I figure out how this whole place runs. I'm starting here on crisis one.”

She picked up a cinnamon raisin bagel and glanced toward the toaster before looking back at Vic with a teasing glint. “So, how do I bribe my way into being shown around? Another bakery run? Coffee? Strictly Mariah playlists?”

Vic had been in the process of grabbing the tub of cream cheese from the fridge when she felt another presence in the room. It didn't stop her from continuing to sing and dance around, not until she turned around and was stopped a little short by the gorgeous woman in front of her. Who was this, why was she here and how smooth was she gonna have to act to get this woman's number?

She vaguely remembered her, but not enough to remember her name. "Singing is optional. Dancing is required depending on vibes." Vic put the cream cheese on the counter, smiling at the other woman. "No ritual ruined. And they taste heavenly too. The rainbow ones are plain but pretty and the cinnamon raisin ones are best with brown sugar cream cheese."

"If you need any help learning where things are, just let me know. We try to help each other around as best we can."

[onismstrikes]

Megan shivered.

The moment Liz leaned in, lips brushing just to the side of hers and breath warm against her ear, it was like the world narrowed to a pinpoint — just the two of them, just this couch, just that voice and the way Megan could feel it all through her.

Her grip on Liz’s thigh tightened ever so slightly, her jaw clenching as she tried to hold onto her composure. But then came those words, and all her composure cracked right down the middle.

Megan turned her head just slightly, catching Liz’s mouth with her own again in a kiss that was slower now, deeper. One hand slipped around Liz’s waist while the other slid up her arm, her fingers curling at the back of Liz’s neck to hold her there, to press closer, to pour everything she was feeling — need, joy, affection, devotion — into that kiss.

When she finally pulled back, it was only just enough to speak, her forehead resting lightly against Liz’s, their noses brushing, breath shared between parted lips.

Her voice was husky, low, almost reverent. “I am very agreeable.” She kissed her again — once, twice — softer now, but no less intense. “And Liz?” Megan murmured, her hand now cupping her jaw with gentle steadiness. “Whatever happens at the end of that night, or any night after… I’m yours. That’s not going to change.” She smiled — slow, deliberate, all heat and affection and absolute certainty.

The tightening of her hand made her feel steady. She remembered the call, Ben holding her while she sobbed for her brother, for the man that she had loved. She would be the first to call him out, but she had loved him so dearly. When she had been in the hospital from the transplant, she had made a joke that she was a part of him now, and then he had died.

She felt the thumb begin to draw circles in her thigh and she started to relax a little more, leaning in slightly as Megan pressed a kiss to her forehead. It was a soft, kind gesture that Liz felt like she hadn't experienced, not to recent memory at least.

And then she said it. And it was so her. She was so enraptured by how uniquely herself this woman was. And god, if it didn't make Liz fall for her even harder. The way she spoke, the air around her, it was something completely unique and Liz loved it. "Like I would ever deny you a kiss." Her voice was soft, looking into the other woman's eyes as their faces were inches from each other. If she leaned in even just slightly, she could steal another kiss easily.

Her breath caught in her chest slightly, the thought of Megan all dressed up sending a soft blush to her cheeks as the thought of taking off the fancy dresses at the end of the night entered her mind. "I don't think either of us are good enough actresses to pretend we aren't completely infatuated with each other."

The gentle squeeze made her smile even wider as she nodded. "Just one little addendum." She leaned in, pressing her lips just to the side of Megan's, leaning in so that her lips were next to the redhead's ear. "At the end of this night, if you're agreeable, I get to bring you home, and show you just how much I care for you."

[onismstrikes]

Andy looked up from where she sat curled into Andrew’s side, a fond smile spreading across her face the second Amelia stepped through the door. “Hey, babe,” she said warmly, already reaching a hand out toward Scout as he toddled over and wedged himself happily between them.

At Amelia’s question, she grinned and gave Scout’s belly a little tickle, making him giggle. “I don’t know who’s more excited—me or this little guy,” she said, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of his head. “Definitely me, actually. He’s just here for the cupcake.”

She glanced toward the box Amelia had set on the counter, her curiosity already visibly getting the better of her. Then, back to Amelia, her voice softened just a little. “I’m glad today went well. I know you were nervous.”

Two days prior, the ultrasound had gone well. There were no words to describe the feeling Amelia had in her stomach before hearing that their baby was healthy and measuring exactly how it should be. She hadn't ruined their baby's life, she hadn't caused anything bad to happen, and that was music to her ears. When she left work that afternoon, she picked up Scout from the daycare before stopping off at the local bakery, where she'd had them prepare four gender reveal cupcakes. Of course, she knew gender was a social construct, but that wasn't the point. She was excited to find out the sex of the baby, and this seemed like a cute way for them to do it. She had to get four though, because there was no way they could have cupcakes in the house without Scout having one too. With her son on her hip, she entered through her front door with the cupcake box in hand. Andy and Andrew were already there, and she was always happy to come home to them. "Ready to find out whether this guy is getting a brother or a sister?" she asked, setting him down. Scout ran over and wiggled himself between her partners on the couch. "Just let me get changed first," she said, glancing down at the scrubs she still wore before setting the box on the counter.

@northernattude @onismstrikes

[onismstrikes]

Andy let out a soft huff of something close to a laugh — the first real one, even if it was tired and tinged with pain. “‘On the down low,’” she repeated, half-teasing. “You’ve been in this country how long now?”

She winced slightly as Carina stitched, but held still. The numbing helped, but the tug of the thread still made her jaw tighten. She was grateful for the focus it demanded — it gave her something else to think about besides the way her hands wouldn’t stop trembling if she let them rest.

“Yeah, okay,” she murmured. “No driving."

Andy’s throat tightened at that. She didn’t know how she was going to tell anyone else — didn’t even know how to say the words out loud again. But right now, it didn’t matter. Right now, she was here. Being stitched up. Being cared for.

Carina’s voice cut through the guilt spiraling in her chest, grounding her. You're not broken. You're just human.

Andy’s eyes welled up again, but she nodded, not trusting her voice this time. She swallowed it all down — the fear, the anger, the helplessness — and focused on Carina’s steady hands, the quiet sound of her voice, the warmth of knowing she wasn’t alone in this.

She glanced down at her hands. “I don’t want to be alone.”

Her voice trembled, but she didn’t apologize for it.

"I know you're tougher than you look," she said, looking Andy up and down. Where she was now, that told her that she was tough, not that she needed telling. Carina numbed her friend, and begun the slow and steady process of stitching up the various wounds, starting with her lip. Thankfully that one wasn't too big, so it was over with fast and she could begin the others.

"On the down low, that's what I meant," she said with a nod. "No driving. You can either get an uber to the hospital, or get Amelia or my brother to drive you," she instructed. "We don't need you behind the wheel until we know for sure what's going on up there," she added.

"You don't need to thank me. You're not broken. I don't need to treat you like you are because there's no reason. You are injured, but that is it. Emotionally you're hurting, but that's human. You're just human," she said, continuing the row of stitches she was on.

[onismstrikes]

@wishingonstcrs

The overhead lights were always too bright after a long case. Weston blinked against them as he pushed through the OR doors, peeling off his cap and mask with one hand and tossing them into the bin with a practiced flick of his wrist. Last surgery of the day; twelve hours in this surgery, and somehow his shoulder ached more than the patient’s probably would.

He glanced at the clock. Later than he'd thought.

There was that low, familiar hum of the hospital at shift change—the swirl of blue scrubs, the occasional bark of a nurse corralling a resident, the pagers going off in staggered chorus. Weston moved through it like a ghost, half-focused, one hand in his coat pocket fishing for a granola bar he knew wasn’t there.

He rounded the corner by the nurse's station, gaze down, just as someone came the opposite way—quick steps, confident posture. He stopped just short of colliding, looking up to see—

Oh. Cardio. McCormick. He recognized her in that way you recognize someone from elevators and OR boards, not from conversations. Always sharp. Always moving.

"Sorry," he said, stepping aside, offering a faint, lopsided smile. "Long day. Guess my depth perception's shot."

[onismstrikes]

Finnley paused just outside the beanery, the scent of toasted bagels and the sound of Mariah Carey floating through the air pulling a soft smile to her lips. She hesitated a second—this was still new, all of it—but something about Vic dancing around like the kitchen was hers made the place feel a little more... human.

She stepped in slowly, backpack slung over one shoulder, and raised her voice just enough to be heard without startling. “If I join you, do I have to audition first, or is singing optional?”

Finnley gave a sheepish grin, brushing a loose curl behind her ear as she made her way to the counter. “Morning. Sorry—I didn’t mean to crash your solo. You’ve got a whole vibe going.” She reached for a mug, trying to move like she belonged. “I’m still figuring out where everything is. And how not to look like I walked in on someone’s sacred ritual.”

After a beat, she nodded toward the toaster. “Those bakery bagels? They smell like actual heaven.”

closed starter for @onismstrikes.

Vic loved being at the station early. She obviously loved her team and the chaos that followed but there was something about the quiet, especially since the shift before was still out, that gave her peace. She moved freely in the locker room, taking her time to shower and dress, music playing from her phone the whole time. It was her self care to herself, a way to shake off the pre shift wave of anxiety she sometimes felt.

She made her way into the beanery, grabbing one of the bagels that she had grabbed from the bakery in the way to work, ripping the two halves apart gently before sticking them into the toaster. She made her way around the kitchen, singing along to “Fantasy” by Mariah Carey that was coming from her phone. It was another reason she liked being here mostly alone. She could sing and dance to her hearts content.

[onismstrikes]

Andrew’s words almost shattered her again. How could he still be proud of her when she felt so broken? But that’s what Andrew did — he saw the best parts of her, even when she couldn’t. She reached up weakly to tangle her fingers into the fabric of his shirt, needing the grounding.

Amelia's voice, steady and certain, layered over Andrew's song like a shield, another barrier against the voice in her head that said she should be ashamed, that she had failed. She knew Amelia, knew how strong she was — if Amelia said she wasn’t weak, maybe she could start to believe it, even just a little.

Andy closed her eyes at the feeling of Andrew’s head against hers, at the low, sweet sound of him singing in her ear. She didn’t know the words exactly, but the tone, the way his voice wove around her, was enough to start calming the storm inside her chest. It was like the song itself was stitching her back together, piece by piece. She clung tighter to him, to both of them, breathing them in like oxygen.

Amelia’s voice, steady and sure, folded over her like another safety net. Andy clung to those words, even if they didn’t quite fit yet inside her heart. She was trying. She wanted to believe them. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she registered the tension in Amelia’s body, the stiffness of her arm wrapped around her. But Andy didn’t have the room to really think about it, not right now. She just knew she needed them, needed both of them.

Andrew rested his head against her own, his heart breaking at her words. The fact that Andy could think that any of this was her fault, that they would look at her any differently. If anything, he was in awe of her strength and that she had fought so hard against this. He was angry at whoever had done this, he wanted to run through the streets with a baseball bat. He wanted to do what Alex had done to him that night he had thought Andrew hurt Jo.

“You are so strong, amore mom dolce. Strong and brave. How could I ever feel let down by you when I feel so much pride in you?” He couldn’t.

But instead, he rested his head against hers, so that his lips were right next to her ear. One hand wrapped around her, his other settling on Amelia's hip to lock Andy in, to protect her in their arms.

And he did what Carina had done for him as a child, he sang. Very softly, and in italian, but it was a soft sweet song, one his mother had taught them both. His hand rubbed gently at Amelia's hip, trying to also comfort her. He knew this wasn't easy on her, especially when she had the baby to think about and his heart ached for her as well. He wished he could take all the troubles away and let it just be them.

[onismstrikes]

Megan listened, her heart tugging hard at every word Liz spoke. The casual way Liz said “my brother is dead” made Megan ache — not because Liz said it coldly, but because she could hear the wound there, the way grief and family and betrayal had all tangled together inside of her. She didn’t push. She didn’t prod. She just tightened her hand under Liz’s where it rested against her wrist, a silent promise that she saw her. All of her.

And God, she hated Liz’s family a little, hearing how they'd made her doubt herself. How they twisted love into something sharp and conditional. Megan knew that kind of hurt far too well. But right now — here, in this living room, with Liz so close she could count every beautiful freckle across her face — none of that mattered. What mattered was them. The future they were daring to talk about.

The question made Megan’s mouth quirk into a soft, heart-flipping grin, her thumb still brushing lazy circles against Liz’s thigh. "So, what do we do now?" She let the question hang for a second, feigning deep contemplation — until she leaned in and pressed the softest, briefest kiss to Liz’s forehead, a reverent kind of touch.

“Well," Megan murmured, her voice low and a little rough around the edges, "first, I’m going to keep kissing you whenever I want. That’s non-negotiable.” She pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, her own sparkling with something both mischievous and so full of feeling it was almost too much.

“And then..." Megan shrugged, a playful tilt to her smile. "I was thinking I’d take you out. On a real date. Fancy dress, nervous hand-holding, me pretending I’m not ridiculously obsessed with you while everyone else in the restaurant stares at how gorgeous you are.” She squeezed Liz’s thigh again, grounding them both. “...Sound like a plan?”

The hand on her thigh, the way she laughed. It wrapped Liz up like a warm blanket, like she could feel the affection this woman had with her through her touch, could breathe it in like oxygen. Liz often felt insecure about how other's felt about her. It had been exacerbated by her divorce, by the family feud that had unglued how she saw herself.

But with Megan, she never had to guess. Megan Hunt did not hide her feelings, because Liz felt it in every look, every touch. She felt it when she had opened the door and seen Bernard sitting on her welcome mat. She felt it in the kiss they shared when she had gotten there. It was all around her.

She squeeze made her smile, her hand settling on top of Megan's, her fingers brushing against her wrist, soft and gentle. And then Megan took everything out of her with what she said. 'Because you're worth it. I did it for you.' She didn't feel deserving of it, but she let the words settle in her mind, letting the meaning of them sink into her mind and cement themselves there.

"I mean, my brother is dead so he's off the hook. Nancy is...the better of the two evils. Kathleen is a walking talking DSM-05. She called my divorce a mental breakdown." She thought often of that night, how her mother had stood there and watched Kathleen be horrible to her and then tried to smooth everything over. Just like she had done with Amelia, although Amelia's somehow felt worse to her, maybe because she was the baby and they should have protected her.

"So, what do we do now? We obviously are pretty crazy about each other."

[onismstrikes]

Andy let out a shaky breath as Carina spoke, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to absorb the words — You survived. You're strong. It didn’t feel like strength, not right now. It felt like barely holding on.

But she nodded, because she trusted Carina more than she trusted herself right now.

"Okay," she rasped when Carina explained the swabs. She tensed a little under the touch, but didn’t pull away, gritting her teeth and letting her friend do what needed to be done. "Whatever you need to do. Just... just tell me if you need me to move or anything."

When Carina told her she wasn’t lucky just because it wasn’t worse, Andy blinked fast, swallowing back the tightness in her throat. "Yeah," she said quietly, even if she didn’t fully believe it yet. "I hear you."

She watched with wary, tired eyes as Carina pulled out the numbing agent. A grim smile ghosted across her lips for half a second. "God bless modern medicine," she muttered under her breath. She shifted slightly to give Carina better access. "Do your worst. I’m tougher than I look."

At the mention of the CT scan, Andy hesitated, the stubborn part of her rearing up on instinct. She hated hospitals, hated looking vulnerable there. But she knew Carina was right — and frankly, she didn’t trust herself to know if something worse was going on inside her skull. "Low profile," Andy corrected softly, almost a whisper of a smile touching her battered features. "You mean low profile. Or on the down low."

Her voice wavered a little, the exhaustion catching up to her, but there was a thread of gratitude underneath. "I’ll meet you there. Whatever you think is best." She paused, voice softer, almost raw. "Thank you, Carina. For all of this. For... for not treating me like I'm broken." Andy’s eyes burned, but she blinked the tears away again, forcing herself to stay steady just a little longer.

"Okay," Carina replied. "So no penetration," she replied. "I'm still going to swap parts of your skin to see if there's any DNA that the lab can find. If you decide to press charges, it's important to have that."

Carina shook her head. "Don't say that," she told her. "Just because he didn't rape you, that doesn't mean you're lucky. An assault is an assault. Do not diminish what happened just because there are cases out there that have been worse. It's still a trauma, still an attack," she said.

"But you are not a victim. You survived. You're strong."

Nodding her head, she swabbed Andy's skin and sealed the DNA samples away in sterile bags to send off, setting them aside. "You'll care, but I have this to make it a little easier," she said, reaching through her kit to ultimately pull out a numbing agent that had to be injected into the skin.

"Once you heal, you'll look good as new," she assured her. "But you have to give yourself time to heal emotionally and physically. I'm going to set you up with Diane. Tomorrow, I also want you to meet me at the hospital. I can patch you up here, but I want to get you a head CT," she told her. "I can have someone do it... low down? Is that the phrase?" she asked.

[onismstrikes]

When Grandpa jumped onto the bed, Andy couldn’t help but let out a weak laugh through her tears, reaching out to scratch behind his ears. The little cat always had a way of grounding her, no matter how broken she felt. His purring vibrated through her, and for a moment, it was like she could breathe again.

The weight of the world still sat on her chest, but with Andrew and Amelia here, wrapped around her, it didn’t feel quite so crushing. They were a fortress. She could feel the tenderness in the way they cared for her, how Amelia settled beside her, creating that wall of protection between the two of them. A safe space that was just for her.

"I just feel so weak," Andy whispered, her voice thick with the emotions she was fighting to control. "I hate this… hate feeling like I can’t do anything, like I’ve let you both down."

Amelia’s words landed softly, like a balm to her raw emotions. "I didn’t do this. It’s not my fault," she repeated, her voice almost a mantra. She needed to believe it. They needed her to believe it.

Andrew tried to navigate his way toward the bedroom, spouting some quiet italian curses at Grandpa for getting under his feet. He couldn't be too angry, not when he was so focused on the woman currently in his arms. He couldn't help himself from looking down at her, seeing the way she had nuzzled closer to his chest.

Once he got inside the room, he placed Andy down gently, tossing his sweatshirt onto the chair in the corner of the room and climbing into bed with Andy, leaving plenty of space for Amelia to join them. He reached an arm out for her, a knowing look in his eye. He knew that once Andy was asleep, that Amelia would slip out for a meeting, and he was so proud of her for thinking of her own health in this terrifying situation.

His arm was wrapped around her, somehow holding her to him tightly, but gentle as not to hurt her when she already hurt so much. His hand rubbed gently up and down her arm, shaking his head at her words.

"Andy, you have nothing to be sorry for." He pressed a soft kiss to her hair, letting his lips stay in place for a few moments. "You are safe, Andy. We have you."

[onismstrikes]

Megan laughed, low and warm, the sound vibrating between them as Liz settled so close it was like they shared the same breath. She let herself sink into the couch, her hand finding Liz’s thigh without even thinking about it, fingers resting there lightly but purposefully — like she needed to feel her, needed to keep this tether between them constant.

Hearing Liz say that — about her siblings, about not caring — it made something sharp and soft twist inside Megan’s chest all at once. Because she knew how heavy family expectations could be, how suffocating. And the fact that Liz was sitting here, giving Megan her, like it was easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world... it wrecked her in the best way.

She squeezed Liz’s thigh gently, her thumb stroking slow, grounding circles against the fabric of her leggings.

"I didn’t do it for Amelia," Megan said honestly, voice a little rough now, a little more raw. "I did it for you. Because you’re worth it. And because I didn’t want you stuck in the middle of a mess that I created." She paused. "But I am glad to...bury the hatchet with Amelia. She didn't deserve the way she was treated by me or my family."

Her eyes softened as she looked at Liz, her free hand coming up to brush a lock of hair behind Liz’s ear — another excuse to touch her, to memorize her.

"I'll keep that in mind regarding your other siblings though."

God, her smile was brilliant. It was the kind of infectious smile that made you happy just looking at her, the kind the people said changed lives and made people fall in love. And boy, was it working. With every smile, every laugh, every witty comment that Megan made, Liz could feel herself falling just a little bit more for this woman.

The soft nuzzle of her nose, was unexpected but certainly not unwelcome. It was intimate, something sweet and soft that gave Liz all of the warm fuzzies.

When she made the comment about getting drunk off kissing her, Liz could feel the flush hit her cheeks, her mind was cloudy with pure happiness. She wanted little, except to live in the feeling of that kiss every day. It was like a drug, something she kept wanting more of, wanting to spend all of her time wrapped up in Megan.

Liz helped steer them to the couch, helping lower Megan into the couch before moving to sit beside her, finally removing her hand from Megan's chest. There was little space between them, and while Liz wasn't on Megan's lap, she might as well have been with how closely she had sat.

"Thank you, for whatever you said to Amelia. And not just because I was going slightly crazy without you." She did care deeply about Amelia's feelings, especially with the way that Amelia had been treated by her own family, it was nice to see her repairing things. "And for the record, I don't give a shit about any of my other siblings so you can offend them all you want."

[onismstrikes]

[onismstrikes]

She smiled softly at the thought of the baby knowing she was there. "Hi, pequeño."

Andy barely registered the movement as Andrew carried her inside. She just clung to him, her fingers curled loosely in the fabric of his sweatshirt, her face hidden against his chest. Every breath she took in was filled with the steady, comforting scent of him, of home. The slow, low rhythm of his voice against her hair was the only thing that kept her from falling apart all over again.

When he asked if she wanted the bed or the couch, Andy stirred faintly, trying to find her voice. Her body ached all over, inside and out, but the warmth of Amelia’s hand in the car—the sound of her voice, the soft way she'd spoken about the baby—was still wrapped around her like a second skin.

"Bed," Andy whispered. "With you. Both of you." She needed them close. She needed to feel them breathing beside her, needed to know that they weren’t going anywhere. That she wasn’t going anywhere either.

As Andrew carried her toward the bedroom, Andy cracked her eyes open, catching sight of Grandpa swirling around their ankles like a worried little guardian. A ghost of a smile flickered at her lips before it disappeared again under the weight of exhaustion.

Hearing Amelia's voice again made her heart ache in a different way. The mention of the comfy blankets, the familiarity of it—it made her realize just how much they had already built together. How much she had to fight for. How much love she had wrapped around her, even when everything else had been stripped away tonight.

She nestled closer to Andrew’s chest as Amelia whispered into his ear, her heart squeezing tight. She didn’t know what they were planning, but she trusted them. She trusted them with everything she had left.

"I’m sorry," Andy breathed out again without meaning to, her voice breaking in the middle of the words. "I’m trying." She didn't even fully know what she was apologizing for. For scaring them. For being hurt. For needing so much right now. She hated feeling like this.

Andrew pressed a soft kiss to Andy's temple, his eyes closing as he tried to pour all of his love into this one action. He moved to stand, not taking a hand off of Andy as he pulled her into his arms, keeping her held tight against him, as if no one could get to her here.

He walked towards, the door, stopping at Amelia and looking into her eyes. "Are you alright, la mia vita?" His life. That is what they were to him. Andy, Amelia, this baby they all shared, they were his life. And he wished with all this might that he could shield them and shelter them from any harm, slay any monster that would dare harm their happiness.

He stepped down the stairs carefully, aware of the precious weight he carried in his arms, keeping her close to him. "You are so brave, mio amore. So strong. I love you so much." The words poured out of his mouth in a low tone, daring anyone to challenge that fact.

Once he got to the car, he pressed his thumb against the handle, hearing the doors click open instantly. And once everyone was adjusted and inside, he pressed a kiss to each of his girlfriend's heads before getting into the drivers seat, taking a moment to breathe before starting the car and driving toward Amelia's apartment, since they spent a lot of their nights there anyway. Every stop light felt like forever, but once they made it, and the car was in park, he felt a weight start lifting from his chest.

At home, he could protect them. He could keep them safe. He could make sure that nothing bad could happen to them. He got out and picked up Andy again, looking at Amelia over her head, to try to gauge if she were okay, but he knew none of them were.

"Do you want the bed or the couch, principessa?"

[onismstrikes]

Megan’s fingers curled instinctively around Liz’s hand the second she pressed it against her chest, holding it there like an oath. She could feel the steady pounding of Liz’s heart under her palm, mirroring her own frantic rhythm. It was dizzying — how easy it was to fall into her, how natural it felt to belong here, with Liz’s forehead against hers, their breaths mingling.

Hearing Liz say she was crazy about her too? That was it. Megan was done for.

She smiled, wide and bright and real, her eyes still shining with everything she was feeling. Her thumb traced soft circles against the back of Liz’s hand where it rested between them, grounding, comforting, claiming.

When Liz laughed, Megan pulled back just enough to meet her gaze fully, her smile turning into something more playful — teasing, fond, utterly besotted.

"Oh, definitely the kiss," Megan murmured, her voice low and conspiratorial, like it was a secret meant just for them. Her fingers tightened just slightly around Liz’s hand. "The hot chocolate was just the warm-up act."

She brushed the tip of her nose against Liz’s in an affectionate nuzzle, her whole being so open it almost hurt.

"I could get drunk off just kissing you," she said softly, the confession slipping out before she could even think about stopping it. And for the first time in a long time, Megan didn’t want to stop it. Didn’t want to stop any of it.

"Come here." She said softly, beginning to move backwards further into the apartment, leading her towards the couch.

Everything. Her breath caught at that.

Megan Hunt thought she was everything. And the sound of it made Liz want to drop to her knees. That combined with the look in her eyes was enough to take down any walls Liz may have had completely. She could feel the thump of her own heart in her chest.

She grabbed one of Megan's hands with her other one, pressing it over her own heart and clasping it there. "I'm crazy about you too." She took a deep breath, her forehead still pressed to Megan's as her eyes closed and she just felt in this moment.

When she had come to Seattle, she had expected to focus on her career, create bonds here, repair her relationship with Amelia. What she had not expected, was for this beautiful and strong and perfect woman to walk into her life and change it completely.

Liz laughed at the woman's comment, her eyes opening again as she looked at this woman, with so much love in her eyes. "Was it the hot chocolate, or was it the kiss? Cause I think that was pretty perfect as well.

[onismstrikes]

Megan could barely think when Liz touched her like that — fingers threading through her hair, cradling her face like she was something precious. Like she was wanted. Every inch of her hummed with it, her heart pounding so hard she was sure Liz could feel it against her hand where it rested over her chest.

When they finally broke apart, Megan opened her eyes slowly, still trying to catch her breath, her forehead brushing Liz’s again in a soft, almost dazed nudge. At Liz’s teasing words, Megan let out a breathless laugh, the kind that shook loose right from her ribs.

"You are dangerous," she whispered, voice warm and full of awe, "but you’re also... everything."

She leaned into the hand on her heart, like it tethered her to this moment, to Liz. Her own fingers traced lazy, featherlight patterns over Liz’s back, up and down, grounding herself in her, memorizing her.

"I’m so crazy about you, Liz," Megan said quietly, almost reverent, like saying it any louder would break the magic of right now. Her smile softened, the weight of everything she felt shimmering behind it.

Then, not moving away, she added with a smirk, "And for the record? That hot chocolate... was perfect."

Liz couldn't help but smile as she saw the short circuiting look on Megan's face, a twinge of pride inside of her that she was able to have that effect on her. Her forehead against Megan's, she decided that his felt like home. Not a place, but in moment's like this, when she was so utterly taken by this woman.

"And you are perfect." She felt the hands sliding up her back, watching Megan's face until the cup was removed from her hand and she looked surprised until Megan spoke.

And then it was her soft lips on Liz's again that made her body feel like a bonfire. It lit her up from the inside out, her hand coming up to caress Megan's face, to hold it in her hands and know that she was here. She put so much into the kiss, so much of her hope, her dreams, her affection. She wanted to give her everything.

With both hands free, one found it's way into her hair as they kissed, combing up through them as if that would hold her closer. The way her lips moved against Megan's wasn't rushed, but full. Full of promise. Full of excitement, and not the tentative worries of their first kiss.

When they finally pulled away, Liz's breath came out with a slight pant, opening her eyes slowly to look into Megan's. "And you call me dangerous?" Her hands came to rest on Megan's shoulders, one hand resting over her heart slightly so that she could feel the rhythmic beating underneath.