Everyone in the Lanes knew it.

They knew it by the way Vi’s hand always found you first in a crowd, fingers hooking into your belt loop like it belonged there. How you leaned into her space without thinking, shoulder pressed to her chest while she wrapped an arm around you like it was second nature. By the pet names that slipped out so easily.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Vi would murmur when you were hurt, thumb brushing your cheek.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, tough girl,” you’d tease back, grinning even as your hands stayed curled in her jacket.

Everyone saw it. Everyone felt it. Everyone waited for one of you to finally say it.

Everyone except the two of you.

You were best friends. That was the rule. That was the line neither of you crossed, even when it burned and ached so deeply.

Vi loved you in a thousand small ways. She loved you in the way she always walked on the street side, like she could physically shield you from the world. In how she checked your knuckles after fights even when her own were bleeding. In the way her voice softened only for you.

You loved Vi back just as fiercely. You loved her scars and her temper and the way she pretended not to care when she cared more than anyone. You loved how she trusted you, how she let you see her when the anger cracked and something vulnerable showed through.

And that was the problem.

Loving her like that felt dangerous. Loving you felt worse.

One night, you sat together on the roof, legs dangling over the edge, the city humming below. Vi had her jacket draped over your shoulders even though she was the one shivering.

“It’s okay babe, I don’t need it,” you said, trying to hand it back.

She pushed your hands down, fingers lingering, warm and familiar. “Humor me, cupcake.”

You laughed softly, but your chest ached. You leaned into her side anyway, head tipping against her shoulder. Vi immediately relaxed into you, arm sliding around your body, head resting on yours. Like you were only complete when connected.

You fit there perfectly. Too perfectly.

“Ever think about leaving?” you asked quietly.

Vi scoffed, but her grip tightened. “And go where?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere easier. Quiet.”

She looked down at you then, really looked, powder blue eyes searching your face like she was afraid of what she might find. Her thumb brushed your jaw, slow, absent, affectionate in a way that made your breath hitch.

“Only place that makes sense is wherever you are,” she said.

The words sat heavy between you.

You both felt it then, that pull, that moment where everything could tip one way or another. Vi’s face was so close. You could feel her breath. You wondered, just for a second, what it would be like if she kissed you. If she finally crossed that line.

Instead, you smiled and nudged her with your shoulder. “You’re such a sap.”

She laughed, relief and something like heartbreak flickering across her face. “Yeah, well. Guess that’s my thing.”

-

Vi found herself in an altercation. As usual.

You patched her up like always. She sat still for you, which she never did for anyone else. Your hands were gentle and practiced. Lingering just a second too long over bruises and scars you knew by heart.

“You’re staring,” she said softly.

“Am not.”

She smirked. “Sure, sweetheart.”

Your eyes met. The room felt too small. Vi reached out, fingers brushing yours, pinky hooking around pinky like a promise neither of you dared name.

“I’ve got you,” she uttered quietly. Her sincerity gnawed at your heart.

“I know,” you replied, just as soft.

And that was the truth of it.

You loved each other in every way except the one that scared you most. You held hands in the dark. You slept pressed together when nights were bad. You defended each other like the world would end if one of you fell.

Everyone could see how much you loved each other.

You just couldn’t say it.

Not yet.

But the way Vi’s thumb traced circles into your skin, the way your heart still leapt every time she smiled at you like you were her whole world, it felt inevitable.

Like one day, the words would finally slip free.

“sorry. ‘s a mess” she hides the embarrassment with peppered kisses down your neck, avoiding bottles on the way to her mattress.

hums, pathetic moans, breaths hot and damp against one anothers face; it drowns out the fighting outside her place, mutes the perpetual hum of smog-heavy machinery all through the undercity.

her bandaged hand fiery, exposed fingers electric against your skin; and they’re all over. wherever she can reach, she has.

you almost don’t notice that the mattress is bare, stained, lazily covered with a blanket for some semblance of comfort. hardly.

it’s awkward, getting onto a mattress on the floor from a standing position, unwilling to let go. but you manage, stumbling on each other, sure she hit her head on the wall, drunken giggles exchange between glistening lips.

your teeth clash when she leans back in, your hands fumble with the ripped skinny jeans.

she pulls back, brows twitched inward.

“what’re y’ doin’?”

you mirror her expression.

“taking off your clothes..? that’s how sex typically works.”

a barely annoyed scoff with a eye roll, resembling a moody puppy.

“yeah- but like…i guess it doesn’t matter.” she huffs between words “i’m usually the one doin’ all the- whatever”

she sounds stupid, she thinks, shutting herself up with a kiss.

you work the jeans over her hips, thighs, not without struggle; the kiss grows sloppier as your focus shifts.

oh, commando.

your jeans fall off much easier in her hands, loose against your skin. you kick off the rest, knocking over a bottle somewhere.

“sorry.” you giggle, she does the same.

your hands run up her arms, and you kiss her neck.

weird. it catches her off guard, waging an unspoken war for dominance- whatever she sees as dominance.

you didn’t want dominance, power. you just preferred giving.

just as she reached between your legs, you moved. you must not have even noticed.

you took her hips, attempting to put her on her back; you’re met with a brick wall.

you look up, confused.

she looks down, even more confused.

“you make it really hard to eat your pussy, vi”

a breathy laugh, close enough it makes her muscles tense.

“oh. that’s what you’re doing…?”

“what did you think?”

“i dunno- i just assume you were a bottom. usually are.”

makes sense.

“are you like, exclusively a top or something…?”

you can’t get a read on her, if she really doesn’t like this, or is just out of her comfort zone.

she doesn’t answer, and when she does, it’s vague, but enough. anything was enough.

“sounds relaxing” she tilts her head, and before you can question, she ups and sit back against the wall, legs closed, guarded

“you’ll have ta—“

“right, yeah, cool”

she opened up, but hardly enough. you lower your head between her legs, your knees off the mattress, against the humid, wood floor.

you look up as you get comfortable, she’s flushed. nervous? embarrassed? excited?

“you good?”

“you’re half on the floor, no way you’re comfortable..”

you consider shifting but the mattress is a twin and the wall is against the long side. there are little options.

“you could sit on my face”

she chuckles, a bark really. she thinks you’re joking

you pout sitting up, hardly propping yourself up

“have another idea?”

you don’t wait for clarity to hit her. you lay back, waiting expectedly. you’re sure you look comical.

“fuckin’ weird” but she moves, just hovers.

sweat and musk breathes into you, along with alcohol but that might be the room.

she doesn’t settle- fine. you’ll ease her into it. her thighs can hold her, though.

you hold them beside your face, neck craning a few inches to taste her

“mm” you hum, almost a coherent praise

you move one hand to spread her, tonguing her cunt like it’s fragile

you work slow, learning the flesh of her pussy, committing it to your tongues memory. she’s not loud, but her sounds are so pretty. hums and breaths, good restraint.

“my neck is killing me.”

you pull back to rest it, saliva keeping you connected.

“um, do we need to do somethin different?”

“you need to actually sit, vi” you run an idle thumb over her slick

she hisses softly, the firm of your thumb pulling something deeper from the sticky flesh

“it doesn’t feel right. you’re gettin nothin” he runs her fingers through your hair, bandages catching a few strands.

“later. you can tell me what to do. i’m not trying to be in charge.” maybe clarifying would ease her mind

“what’s that make me- a power bottom?”

“yeah, i think. but i mean, i am under you”

you’re amused; she rolls her eyes.

“so?”

“so what?”

“sit.”

she doesn’t want to, she’s not used to this and she thinks she’ll crush your face. but you’re adamant and she’s sure her clit twitched when you squeezed her thigh.

so she settles, keeping a hand in your hair, unsure where to put the other.

“you taste good. salty-ish” you murmur into her cunt, lapping up to her clit, circling firmly

“go slow. make it last a bit longer, hm?”

you hum, slowing your tongue, flicking directly over her clit

“fffuck” she cursed, tugging your hair, closer into her, if possible. your nails dig into her thigh, the other finds her free, unoccupied one, tangling your fingers with hers.

you’re greedy, insatiable, tonguing her cunt, sucking her clit, back and forth, lapping every new drop of slick like a starved woman

she grinds against you when you fill her; oh, you’re so pussydrunk. eyes heavy, hungry moans and mumbled vibrating her flesh.

her head falls back, eyes shut, head empty.

you know she’s close when she clenches, even when you’re not inside, when you feel the pulse in her clit each time your lips wrap around it. you chase her orgasm, putting both hands on her hips to keep her down.

a little overstimulation wouldn’t hurt.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, faster- there, there- mmgh, like that” she’s breathless, shameless moans, finally, thighs an inches away from popping your head like a watermelon; would be worth it.

you drink her up, gentle around her puffy clit.

“i think, like, everyone joint in my body relaxed.” she breathes, blissful under- or…over your touch, licks, kisses.

you titter against her, kitten licks pick up the last of her orgasm.

“you’ll give me an ego”

she twitches softly, moving off you when she feels it’s enough

she pulls your lips in for a sloppy kiss, tasting herself with a groan.

her fingers wander down your torso, warmth settling in your chest; she feels your dampness through your underwear

“in the morning” you mumble between tongue-tangling kisses

“so you’re staying the night?”

“too tired.”

“hm,” she agrees, thumb under the waistband of lace, forefingers rounding your hip, holding herself up on her free arm

your fingers tangle in her smudgy, black hair, reminding you her lipstick is likely all over you

“Vi?” Caitlyn calls, dropping her keys into the shallow bowl on the entryway table. She locks the front door behind herself, then takes off her coat, trying not to get too many raindrops on the hardwood floors. It’s absolutely pouring outside, and she got drenched just from the short dash she made from the carriage to the front door. 

“Darling?” Caitlyn calls again, pushing some of her damp hair out of her face and glancing around the empty foyer. Usually Vi comes to greet her when she gets home from the precinct, unless Caitlyn’s been working into the late hours of the night. It’s only just after six though, so she is a bit surprised that her girlfriend is nowhere to be found. 

Caitlyn tugs the elastic out of her ponytail while she kicks off her boots and ventures further into the house. The release of pressure from her scalp feels amazing, and she can already feel herself relaxing the way she always does when she comes home. This is her safe place, the only place she isn’t expected to be polished and to have all the answers. She loves this little slice of happiness that she and Vi have been able to carve out together since the war. 

Tonight, however, a slight tension lingers in her shoulders as she peeks into the kitchen, then the dining room. She knows Vi can’t be in Zaun – the weather is too nasty for her to be participating in any reconstruction work – but still she’s nowhere to be found. 

Eventually Caitlyn makes her way up the grand staircase and into the library. It’s one of Vi’s favorite spots in Kiramman House, and Caitlyn often finds her holed up among the walls of books, curled up like a cat on one of the plush couches, with a novel in hand. 

A small smile curves Caitlyn’s lips once she spots pink hair and tattoos. Vi is indeed asleep on a couch, curled up with one arm wrapped around her middle. Caitlyn comes over to kneel next to her, running her fingers through Vi’s messy hair and tucking it behind her ear so that she can see her face. 

Caitlyn frowns once she gets a good look at her girlfriend, however. Even in the dim lighting from the table lamp, she can tell that Vi is unusually pale. Her skin has a grayish tint to it, making her freckles stand out more than usual, and her eyebrows are pinched together even in her sleep, as if she’s in pain. 

“Love?” Caitlyn murmurs, stroking Vi’s hair to gently wake her up. “It’s me.” 

Vi stirs and lets out a low groan before opening her eyes. Caitlyn notes how Vi curls up tighter on herself as she wakes up, still hugging her middle. 

“Darling, are you alright?” Caitlyn asks softly, cupping a hand to Vi’s jaw. She runs her thumb under one of Vi’s light blue eyes, frowning at the redness in them. 

“Hey, cupcake,” Vi says gruffly, trying for her usual smirk but it comes off as more of a grimace. She groans again, flopping back against the pillows. 

“Are you injured? Ill?” Caitlyn’s voice is sharp now, worry making her chest tight. She quickly gives Vi a once-over, trying to spot any obvious signs of injury. “What is it, Vi?” 

“Hey – breathe.” Vi pushes herself upright on her elbows and reaches for Caitlyn’s hand. She threads their fingers together and squeezes gently. “It’s fine. I’m okay, babe.” 

“You’re not okay,” Caitlyn frowns. “You’re pale as a sheet and I can tell you’re hurting. Tell me what’s wrong. Please.” 

She holds Vi’s gaze, trying to slow the racing in her heart. She knows it can’t be anything life-threatening, not with Vi sitting up and talking to her, but they’ve had far too many close calls in the past for Caitlyn to relax. She needs to know what’s wrong, and she needs to fix it. Now. 

Vi sighs, dragging a hand through her hair. Caitlyn notices her ears going red at the tips and Vi avoiding her gaze. Vi is embarrassed. But why? They know everything about each other at this point. She can’t imagine what Vi has to be shy about. 

“Uh, I –” Vi clears her throat, staring fixedly at the rug as if it’s suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. “I got my period. It’s been a while, you know – guess it came back with a vengeance.” 

“Oh,” Caitlyn sits back on her heels, her shoulders dropping with relief. “Your period.” 

“Yeah,” Vi grimaces, still not quite meeting Caitlyn’s eyes. 

Caitlyn reaches out and gently cups Vi’s chin, tilting her gaze up to meet hers. “My love,” Caitlyn says, her voice softer now, gentle. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s just me, hm?” She leans in and brushes a light kiss over Vi’s forehead. “It’s perfectly natural and we were hoping for this, yes? It means your body is finally relaxing. Safe.” 

Vi shrugs, her cheeks turning pink. “Guess I wasn’t expecting it to hurt so fucking much.” 

Caitlyn kisses her again, on the lips this time. “I’m sorry, darling. Have you taken anything yet?” 

“We’re out of painkillers,” Vi says. A wave of pain crosses over her face and she leans back again, wincing and clutching her stomach. “Forgot to pick up more.” 

“I have an extra bottle in my work bag.” Caitlyn pushes to her feet immediately, eager to help alleviate Vi’s discomfort. “Do you want to go to bed, love? You’ll be more comfortable there.” 

Vi’s ears go red again, even darker this time. “Uhh…” she swallows hard. “I need to change the sheets. Just give me a minute, I’ll be up to it soon.” 

“Why do you need to change them? I just did them yester–...ah,” Caitlyn starts to question, then stops, understanding dawning on her. She crouches back down next to Vi and starts stroking her hair. “Oh, darling. I’ll take care of it. You just rest.” 

“Cait, no –” Vi protests, trying to get up, but Caitlyn puts a hand to her shoulder to keep her still. 

“Violet,” Caitlyn says, her voice calm, but with a hint of firmness. She kisses each of Vi’s cheeks, slowly, deliberately. If only Vi knew how precious she is to her. How she’d do anything for her. “I said I’ll take care of it, which means I’ll take care of it. You don’t need to be embarrassed. I love you, hm?” She brushes her nose lightly against Vi’s, then pecks the tip of it. “It’s just us.” 

Vi’s cheeks are still flushed, but her eyes are full of relief. “Thanks, baby.” 

“Of course,” Caitlyn straightens, brushing off her work pants. “Let me get you the painkillers first, then you can rest here while I do the sheets.” 

It doesn’t take long for Caitlyn to retrieve the medication from her work bag and then fill a glass of water in the kitchen. She brings everything back to Vi in the library, and runs her fingers through Vi’s hair while she swallows the pills. Then she tucks a blanket around Vi and helps her get comfortable on the couch. She kisses her forehead again before heading off to the bedroom. 

Caitlyn makes quick work of stripping the bed and putting on a fresh set of thousand-count sheets. She picks a dark blue set, just so Vi doesn’t have to be embarrassed if any more accidents happen. Then she digs the hot water bottle out from under the bathroom sink and fills it with steaming hot water. She sets it on the nightstand on Vi’s side of the bed, along with a neatly folded t-shirt and fresh pair of boxer shorts. Then she changes out of her work uniform and into a pair of leggings and an oversized sweater, before heading back to the library. 

She finds Vi where she left her, still curled in on herself, her face tight with pain. “Sweetheart?” Caitlyn murmurs, kneeling next to the couch and running a hand down Vi’s arm. “I’ve made the bed up. I think you’ll be more comfortable there.” 

“Yeah, sounds like a good idea,” Vi grunts, pushing herself upright with Caitlyn’s help. Caitlyn loops an arm around her waist and helps her stand, keeping her tucked close to her side. 

“Do you want to use the bathroom first?” Caitlyn suggests, once they’ve made it to the bedroom. She turns to Vi, rubbing her back gently. “Then you can change and stay in bed the rest of the evening.” 

Vi gets a shy look on her face again, and Caitlyn frowns softly, titling her head curiously. “What is it, love?” 

Vi lets out a heavy breath, rubbing the back of her neck. “It’s just – I didn’t have – I think I need…” she stutters over her words, looking away from Caitlyn with pink cheeks. 

Caitlyn’s heart clenches faintly that Vi still feels ashamed of something so natural. But she waits patiently, not rushing her. She keeps her strokes on Vi’s back slow and comforting, trying to help ease the tension out of her shoulders. 

“You can tell me anything,” Caitlyn reminds her softly, kissing her. “I go through the same thing every month too, darling.” 

Vi nods, looking so unusually vulnerable that Caitlyn finds herself wanting to just wrap her up in her arms and hold her close. 

“I couldn’t find any pads,” Vi finally admits, shifting her weight. “Just your tampons, but I don’t…I’ve never, uh, used those. They hurt.” 

“Oh, love,” Caitlyn sighs, resting her forehead against Vi’s. She can’t believe Vi’s been suffering all day and didn’t feel like she could tell her. “You should have called me. There are some in one of the guest baths, and I’ll go to the pharmacy tomorrow for more.” 

“Thanks – sorry.” Vi rubs her neck again, looking away. “I just wasn’t expecting it. Don’t mean to be difficult, or whatever.” 

“You’re not difficult,” Caitlyn says patiently, brushing Vi’s pink bangs out of her eyes and behind her ear. “Of course you weren’t expecting it, it’s been years. It’s not a problem, darling. How have you been managing without supplies?” 

“Just toilet paper,” Vi shrugs. “Works, for now.” 

Caitlyn frowns, rubbing Vi’s shoulder. “That must be so uncomfortable. Let me just go get the pads and then we’ll get you tucked into bed.” 

“You’re a lifesaver, Cait.” 

“And you’re my life,” Caitlyn replies with a smile.

“Cheesy.”

“I do believe I’m allowed the occasional amount of cheese.” 

“If only Piltover knew its Sheriff has a secret soft side,” Vi smirks. “Might ruin your terrifying reputation.” 

“Don’t you dare,” Caitlyn chuckles, kissing Vi’s cheek. “I’ll be right back, love.” 

After Caitlyn retrieves the pads and Vi gets herself taken care of, Vi changes into the clothes Caitlyn laid out and they both climb into bed. 

Caitlyn pulls Vi into her arms and then settles the hot water bottle on her abdomen, pressing lightly to keep it close. She kisses the back of Vi’s head, murmuring into her ear. “How’s that, sweetheart?” 

“So much better,” Vi sighs with content, relaxing back against her. She presses a kiss to Caitlyn’s arm, humming softly. “Thank you.” 

“Always,” Caitlyn hums, pulling Vi closer to her chest. “There’s nothing about you I don’t love, Violet. Remember that.” 

“Even my morning breath?” Vi asks, tuning to shoot her a cheeky grin. 

Caitlyn gives a soft laugh, kissing the top of Vi’s hair. “Even your morning breath. I just might not kiss you, that’s all.” 

“Rude,” Vi retorts, but Caitlyn can hear the smile in her voice. 

“Rest now, my love,” Caitlyn murmurs, tightening her arms around Vi. “I’ve got you.” 

“I know.” Vi snuggles up to her, and Caitlyn can feel the tension easing from her muscles. “I know you do, baby.” 

Caitlyn’s heart fills with warmth. 

That concludes today’s episode of "What If I Was Soft and Horny in a Kitchen?* More unhinged rambling lives over on my AO3, if you’re into that kind of thing.