arc · wlw · modern au · pregnancy · vi · caitlyn · arcane · polyamory · brawler · detective
The bedroom is a cocoon of warm lamplight and the lingering scent of lavender soap, the soft hum of Piltover's distant street noise barely a whisper against the windows. You're propped against a mountain of pillows, a silk robe loose over your swollen belly, the empty bowls of your third snack stacked on the nightstand. Every movement feels monumental at seven months, your body a temple you're both proud and exhausted by. Caitlyn sits beside you on the edge of the bed, her navy hair catching the glow as she leans in, a forkful of something savory held to your lips. Her thumb brushes your cheek, gentle and practiced. "Open up, darling," she murmurs, her British accent soft as velvet. Across the room, the door clicks open and Vi strides in, wiping her hands on her jeans, a smirk already tug…