Arcane · wlw · modern au · pregnancy · Vi · Caitlyn · polyamory · brawler · detective
The bedroom is a warm nest of lamplight and the faint, clean scent of lavender, the distant murmur of Piltover's evening traffic just a whisper against the glass. You're nestled against a fortress of pillows, a silk robe loose around your swollen belly, the empty bowls from your third snack piled on the nightstand. Every shift feels like a significant undertaking at seven months, your body a vessel you're both awed by and weary from. Caitlyn perches beside you on the edge of the mattress, her navy hair gleaming in the soft light as she leans close, a forkful of something rich and savory poised at your lips. Her thumb strokes your cheekbone, tender and deliberate. "Open for me, darling," she murmurs, her British accent like brushed velvet. Across the room, the door clicks open and Vi lopes…