#Eyelid shines hehe ✨

[sysig]

For a request, would you please draw something with Shmee and Scriabin interacting? I always find the idea of their constant bickering and 'You're not my dad, don't tell me what to do' 'well apparently SOMEONE needs to' relationship funny and potentially cute, and i wish we got to see more of it. And it being a reminder that Scriabin can do stuff that humans can't typically (like talk to the other Voices) is always a fun bonus.

Day 22 - Hey!

[eurydicees]

💌💥🎀✨ for the fic writer ask game !!!!

hehe ty for all ur asks <3

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

have a snippet from my nanowrimo project !!!! this is a bit i wrote today, coming at the tailend of kagehina’s first dream together :D 

“Oh,” Hinata says quietly. There is something in his chest beating that he doesn’t know that name of. He once read somewhere that you can’t feel pain in dreams, so maybe this isn’t a real dream because fuck knows that everything hurts.  “Hinata,” Kageyama starts. Just his name. An echo of a feeling.  Hinata swallows. “I’m going to wake up now.”  Kageyama closes his eyes. It’s funny, that you can do that in a dream. “I’ll call you when we wake up.”  “Yeah.” Hinata closes his own eyes. It’s just the black of his eyelids there; like the dream isn’t happening at all. “I’ll talk to you later.”   And then he wakes. 

💥find your least kudos'd fic - say something wonderful about it.

my least kudos’d fic is “breathe easy, my love (the sun is out and the stars are shining and you are alive),” which to be fair, was only published a little over a week ago, but also i don’t foresee this one getting popular any time soon LOL. i’m actually really proud of this one, something wonderful about it is rly just how much of a solid conclusion to the series it feels (to me, anyways). i feel like it does a good job of wrapping up everything that the previous two fics have been building to, while also adding something important to the end of “trailing bittersweet.” 

🎀give yourself a compliment about your own writing

um. honestly i think im just like. pretty decent at the thing. i really like the way i use language poetically and descriptively while also keeping it readable and not, like, victorian purple prose. in general, i think i’ve developed a good balance between metaphors and poetics and down to earth prose. that was definitely a struggle to get and figure out, but i feel like i’m getting the hang of it. 

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

answered this here! but another one that comes to mind is “in the arms of loyalty and the hands of devotion,” which is my FHQ fic. i’m sooooo proud of it and i think i’m so galaxy brained for the plot and the writing and the character arcs. more people should agree with me on that

more q’s here & here :D

[thedreamlessnights]

Hey!! I have a very self indulgent request if you are interested hehe: Viktor x artist reader, he finds all the secret lil sketches that y/n has drawn of him and decides to finally make his move. Feel free to make it ✨spicy✨ if you want! Its not a very fleshed out request i hope thats okay, i kinda just want you to take it and do whatever you want! 🤍🤍🤍

First of all, thank you for the request! It was a great idea - though I may have made a few self-indulgent changes of my own! I hope you enjoy!

Shelter me, my love, and I will shelter you || Viktor x Fem!Reader || 4k || NSFW

Warnings: spicy times, Viktor as your muse (aka nude model), fingering, oral (female receiving), protected sex.

A/N: While Viktor does model nude for reader in this story, none of the spice happens during that scene - it comes after, at what I felt was a more appropriate time. I tried to keep it respectful, it just didn't feel right any other way. Thank you for reading!

Viktor is easy to draw.

Well, not easy, not at all. His features are incredibly difficult to capture, in all their delicate proportions, in the way his mouth shifts ever so slightly to the right when he smiles or frowns. You must draw him a hundred times before he even remotely looks like himself, and even then it’s still difficult.

He’s easy to draw in the way that his face was meant to be art. Your own personal muse of sorts, hidden in drawings you do late in the night, when the gold of his eyes shines behind your eyelids. He’s beautiful.

Since you met him, there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by where you aren’t studying him in your own way, noticing the slenderness of his hands, the gap between his teeth, the sharpness of his canines. The loose strands of hair near his ears that you crave to touch, but draw instead, sharp upward strokes of your pencil.

Charcoal, watercolor, oil paint - none of them seem to do him justice. No method you’ve ever learned is enough to represent how truly amazing he is, because a drawing cannot capture a number of things.

For one, his voice. The passion behind it, the accent, and its warmth.

Art can’t capture the way it feels when his hand brushes over yours when he passes you something, even though his hands litter the papers that scatter over your room.

He’s an enigma on your paintbrush, itching to be recreated but impossible by nature.

Your difficulty doesn’t stop you, though.

Even in the lab, you find yourself doodling him - and you’re not the only one. You’ve seen a drawing of him in Jayce’s notebook a few months ago, though Jayce had quickly shut it when he’d seen you looking.

As it is, you’d hate for Viktor to know the way that he often fills your mind, or your papers. He wouldn’t be cruel - you can’t imagine him being cruel - but it’s embarrassing enough even just picturing it.

So you’re careful. You keep your drawings subtle, and most times only draw him when you’re at home. Still, there are times when you see him and just have to draw him.

At a Hextech event, when he’s been fitted into a suit, handsome and lithe. At the lab, when he flashes you a crooked smile after you give him a suggestion for an experiment.

And today, because his hair is curling around his ears - he’s been twirling it - and there’s something so endearing about the way his brows pinch when he thinks, that you just have to draw him.

Even on the corner of your notebook, he’s beautiful, and when you’re satisfied with your shading, you let the finished product rest on your chest, the pages sprawled open against you as you slump back on the couch.

Eventually, your eyes grow heavy, and with the sound of Jayce and Viktor discussing equations as your lullaby, you fall asleep.

When you wake, the sky outside is much darker, and Jayce is nowhere to be seen.

Thankfully, neither is Viktor, since your notebook falls off of you and lands open, the drawing of him in clear sight. Scrambling to your feet, you grab it and smooth down the pages, grabbing your things and making your way to the door.

As you leave, though, you catch a glimpse of Viktor’s notes, and your heart skips a beat as you process what you see.

A drawing of you, asleep on the couch.

It’s a quick sketch, nothing very detailed, but it’s very obvious what it is, and you see that he’s even added one of your cowlicks, which, as you find when you reach up to your hair, is still there.

Warmth fills your chest, bubbling up until you’re practically skipping out of the room, grinning like a child.

The joy does not last.

The next day as you’re in class - doodling Viktor, of course - you hear the professor say the words you’ve been dreading to hear.

“Your assignment this week is a nude figure drawing. We won’t be having a model in class, so it’s your job to either find one of your own or take from a reference photo. However, I strongly encourage you to use a living subject. There’s nothing like learning from reality.”

Your stomach sinks.

You can use a photo, of course, but you always learn better from people. Your experiences of drawing from a reference photo versus a posed model have been invaluable in ways you can’t describe.

There’s just one problem. Who the hell are you going to draw?

You could ask Jayce, but… well, you don’t want to. There’s something extremely humiliating about that, especially considering you’d never be able to look at him the same, and you know his girlfriend.

Viktor - well, you’d die. You’d probably have a heart attack just asking him, much less seeing him naked, even if it’s in a professional setting.

You don’t hear a word for the rest of the class. You just keep tapping your pencil against your book until you catch the nervous habit and force yourself to sit still. Eventually, you’re dismissed, and you can’t stop thinking about Viktor’s clavicle - the soft bit of skin that peeks out from his shirt.

When you get to the lab later that night, Jayce gives you a look as you sit down.

“So I hear you’re working on nude models this week,” he says. You nearly choke on your tea, and Viktor lightly taps your back with the top of his cane in an effort to dislodge the fluid. Somehow, that does the trick, but the touch shuts your brain down.

“Where’d you hear that?” you eventually choke out, attempting your best to recover.

“Well, a few people have asked me to sit for them,” Jayce says.

“Already?”

“Yeah, but I can’t. Mel’s been hammering down on me about planning for our trip, and - well, I don’t think she’d like the idea of it.”

“I don’t blame her,” you say. “Even just as a model, it’s still…” After trailing off for a moment, you shrug. “Hard to ask people. Intimate.”

“Have you found a model?” Viktor asks.

“No. I’ll probably just use a photo.”

There’s a beat before he speaks again.

“If you’d like,” Viktor starts, then wavers for a moment. His next words are hushed, hesitant. “I wouldn’t mind.”

God, you think, cheeks flaming hot. Of all the ways this could have played out, Viktor is volunteering?

“Alright,” you blurt, before you can reason with yourself. But then again, what are you going to tell him? No? “Are you free tomorrow morning?”

“I am. Shall I meet you at your apartment?”

“If you’re comfortable with that,” you reply. Your hands are shaking, but you grip your tea tighter and hope that Viktor doesn’t notice.

“I am. I’ll see you then.”

The next twenty-four hours are absolutely grueling. You don’t get a wink of sleep, trying to shove all your drawings of Viktor out of sight, tidy everything up, and create a good space for him to sit in an area with good lighting - one where he won’t get uncomfortable for long periods of his time with his leg, hopefully.

Then, even after everything is ready, you’re filled with a panicked energy that won’t fade as you lie under the blankets with your eyes closed.

Just act professional, you tell yourself. Don’t make him uncomfortable. It’s just a drawing.

You must look like a mess when you open the door, but Viktor’s eyes are bright and he’s cheerful as he enters.

“I brought breakfast,” he says, handing you a bag of pastries.

“Thank you,” you say, taking it from him and placing it on the counter. “Did you and Jayce ever finish up that equation you were stuck on?”

“We did,” Viktor answers. He’s taking in your apartment - he and Jayce had dropped you off before, when you’d been embarrassingly tipsy, but otherwise he hadn't seen it at all.

Meanwhile, you’ve drawn a nude model before, so you know how this process works, but that doesn’t make it any less nerve wracking.

“First of all, thank you for doing this,” you say. “I really appreciate it, it’s incredibly helpful to work from real life instead of a photo.”

“Of course,” Viktor says. “How do we get started?”

“There’s a robe in the bathroom for you to change into,” you say, pointing out the door. “I’ll instruct you when you come out, and then it’ll be four poses, if that’s okay, about 20 minutes each. In total, it shouldn’t take longer than an hour and a half.”

Viktor nods, and heads into the bathroom. You take a couple of deep breaths and set up your pencils, making sure everything is situated.

When he comes out in the robe, looking much cozier than he usually does, you lead him to the cushioned chair he’ll be sitting on.

“To begin, I’ll show you what pose I’d like to start off with,” you tell him, taking a seat in the chair, and then modeling your own body to one of the more dynamic, fluid poses you’d like to recreate. Viktor nods, taking in the way you’re sitting, and then you stand.

“I’ll only need you fully nude for two of the poses, so for the other two, there’s a towel you can cover up with, to the left of the chair.”

Viktor nods again.

“And, lastly, let me know if you need anything - water, or if your leg is uncomfortable. We can always switch to a different position.”

“Alright, thank you,” Viktor says. “Shall I sit?”

“Yes, please. You can put your cane next to the chair, against the table. And, you can use the towel for this pose.”

Thankfully, your professional side seems to have taken over. The last thing in the world you want is to make him uncomfortable.

“Is this alright?” he asks, and you find that he’s perfectly recreated the pose you’d set up for him. He’s a natural. As for everything else you’re seeing, well, you don’t let yourself think about that.

“That’s perfect,” you say. “I’m going to set a timer for the twenty minutes, and when it’s over, we’ll switch poses.”

The session goes surprisingly well.

Viktor is a perfect model, sitting still, following all directions, and he’s the perfect subject to draw. Even without the privacy towel, you barely find your attention sliding from what you’re doing, because this is probably the only time you’re ever going to get to draw him like this. You’re not going to let yourself waste it.

When it’s over, you avert your eyes as he gets back into his robe, and put your supplies away as he changes in the bathroom. When he returns, you’re just about done with everything.

“Thank you again,” you sigh. “It was really, really helpful.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Viktor says. “Do you… mind if I see the drawings?”

“Oh!” Your brain freezes for a moment, then you move to grab them. “Of course.”

You can’t help but hold your breath as he looks at them, your nails digging into your hands.

“These are beautiful,” Viktor says, handing them back to you. “Especially for something done in twenty minutes. You’re incredibly talented.”

The compliment warms you from the inside out, and you can’t help but beam at him.

“I really appreciate that,” you say. “Is there any way I can repay you?”

“There’s no need for that. Seeing the finished product is enough,” Viktor says. “However,” he continues, narrowing his eyes when he sees your expression, “if you’re going to be stubborn about it, I wouldn’t mind going out for coffee.”

“Coffee!” you exclaim. “I - yeah, uh - tomorrow morning? Eight?”

“Yes.”

He’s just turned to leave when you suck in a breath, clenching your fists.

“Viktor? Coffee like a - a date? Or coffee like friends?”

“Coffee like whichever way you’d like to have it,” he responds, “though, I must admit I have a preference toward the former.” He pauses to take in your reaction, but you’re stunned - a statue in your living room, pinned to the ground by what he’d said. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says softly.

He’s gone before you can reach after him.

The next morning, you’re standing on the sidewalk, shaking like a leaf. He arrives early, but you’ve arrived even earlier. He gives you a wry smile, and you try your best to smile back at him. What he’d said had kept you up all night - replaying his words on repeat, flashing the drawing of you he’d done in front of your eyes. Thank God you’d agreed to coffee, because you need it.

“Good morning,” he greets. His voice is calm, honeyed. Sweet. “Have you decided on what method of coffee we’re getting?”

“A date,” you say, you say, your voice thankfully confident. “If that’s still alright.”

Viktor reaches out toward your hand, stroking his thumb over your knuckles when you give it to him. “It is more than alright. It’s what I’d hoped to hear, in fact.”

“Good,” you breathe, following into the shop.

Your little date lasts all day.

You don’t mean it to - and you’re sure, neither does Viktor - but after coffee with him, the two of you find yourself walking around town gazing at all the sights, exploring. Then it turns into lunch, afterward, and you’re not keen on leaving him.

He seems to feel the same way about you. When you talk, he’s focused on every word out of your mouth, responding with a soft anecdote or a reminder of a memory, or a teasing remark. It’s giving you confidence to speak in ways you haven’t known for a very long time.

After lunch, the both of you return to the lab for a little while, bantering with Jayce as he works on welding some sort of machine you know nothing about. Then you find the two of you going out for dinner, and afterward, Viktor walks you back to your apartment.

The sight of your door is unwelcome. You’ll see him tomorrow, but the truth is that even after your day together, you’re reluctant to part from him. Your brain wants to drink him in forever, day after day.

“I suppose this is the part where I tell you how much I want to kiss you,” Viktor says once you come to a stop, the slightest tinge of nervousness in his voice. “If you feel the same.”

“I do.”

“Then,” he says, his thumb brushing over his cheek, “I’d better follow through.”

His lips brush against yours. Soft. Delicate. Gentle.

At first, it’s simple and nervous and sweet, then it becomes an exhilarating form of electric, lightning pulsing through your veins as it deepens. Tongues brush, clothing is pulled and wrinkled as you both reach for each other, trying to keep balance. His hand finds his way to your jaw, and your hands tangle in the softness of his hair.

Once the kiss breaks, you nudge your nose against his, breathless, dizzy, and uncontrollably happy.

“I suppose this is the part where I ask you to come inside,” you say. “Or tell you to have a good day tomorrow.”

“And now is where I tell you I’d like to come in,” Viktor says, and you rush to open your door, shutting it behind you with a soft click. Your hands have done a number on him - he already looks disheveled. Handsome. Even now, you’re itching to draw him. To map him out on paper.

Instead, you choose to do that with your hands, pulling at his clothes until he stops you.

“I don’t think that’s fair,” he says, “that you’ve already seen me naked, but you’re undressing me first.”

“That was different,” you plead, “I was in a professional setting. I was drawing you.”

“That’s true,” Viktor concedes. “Somehow, you made me more comfortable yesterday than I’ve felt in many clothed situations.”

“You’re an excellent model,” you tell him. “And very nice to draw.”

“Oh?” Viktor asks. “Am I?”

You laugh a little, but you can’t stop thinking about the multiple drawings you have of him, tucked away in your closet.

“I’ve drawn you… kind of a lot, actually,” you admit. “For the past couple of months.”

“May I see?”

After a moment of hesitation, you nod. “I’ll be right back,” you tell him, heading over to your closet and grabbing a few of the pieces you’re most proud of him.

His expression is indiscernible as he looks over your work, before carefully handing it back to you.

“I’ve always found art fascinating,” he says. “Particularly, when you are the subject. Seeing yourself through someone else’s eyes.”

“Is that why you volunteered?” you ask.

“Partly,” Viktor says. “And partly because I wanted to see the way you worked when you were creating. I’d only seen flashes of it in the lab, but it’s clear you’re passionate about that sort of thing.” After a moment, he caresses your cheek, giving you a fond smile. “I quite like the way you interpret me.”

You pull him in for another kiss, setting down the art as you reach for him.

“Bedroom?” you ask.

“Yes.”

You lead him in, and he takes a look around, eyes drawing in some of the paintings you’d hung on your wall, the ones from your favorite artists.

“You have impeccable taste,” he says. “Though, I am going to request that you let me admire you before we start. May I?”

His hands find their way to your shirt, and at your nod, he begins to deftly unbutton it, kissing your shoulder as he pulls the fabric away.

“Have you ever modeled?” he asks, setting down his cane as the two of you position yourselves on your bed.

You shake your head. “I’m usually the one behind the canvas, not the subject.”

“You should,” he says, fingers tracing over your sternum. “You deserve to be in every painting. Replicated.”

Your cheeks go hot, but you flash him a teasing smile as he moves to unhook your bra. “Aren’t you already doing that?” you ask. When he looks confused, you elaborate. “The drawing of me sleeping in the lab?”

“Ah,” he says, tossing your bra to the side. “I’d hoped you’d seen that. I was rather proud of it.”

His cheeks have flushed a bit, and you place a kiss above his beauty mark.

“It was well done,” you tell him. “I liked the shading.”

He laughs lightly, his mouth finding its way downward to kiss you, then lightly nipping at your neck, then going even further down.

“If you’ll allow, for further research on how to perfectly replicate you in my further works,” Viktor starts, pressing light kisses to your chest, soft as silk, “I’ll have to study you.”

A laugh lifts out of your chest as you hitch your hips up, allowing him to pull down your pants. When they catch around your ankle, he gently pulls them off and kisses down your thigh.

You’re already soaking wet, and he’s barely touched you. Built up tension from the last few days is holding itself in your thighs, which quiver as Viktor’s fingers trail up them, gently tugging at your underwear until you lift your hips and they’re pulled away. You’re left bare beneath his gaze, and a little embarrassed, considering that he’s still fully dressed. His gaze holds nothing but admiration, though.

“You are truly beautiful,” he says. “I’m very lucky.”

“You’re one to talk. Look at you. Successful Hextech scientist, talented artist, gifted art model.”

“Only the best for you,” he says, gently spreading your thighs as he positions himself between your legs.

The world seems to freeze as he presses his mouth to you, the warmth of his breath making you squirm even before he tastes you. When his tongue grazes your clit, you can’t find the will to hold back the sound of your moan, breathy and desperate against the air.

“Amazing,” he murmurs, but it sounds like it’s more for himself than for you. You can’t help but reach down for him, hand burying in his hair.

At first, his touch is soft - slow, his hand rubbing soothing circles on the inside of your thigh as you whine and moan for him. The strokes of his tongue are questioning and experimental against you, but soon gain more surety as you grow louder - more desperate for him. He hadn’t been joking when he’d said he was going to study you.

The hand on your thigh soon serves to hold you down as you grow closer to your climax, the fingers of his other hand soon pressing at your entrance. They meet no resistance, and he lets out a soft noise as you grow even closer.

“Viktor,” you breathe, “I’m - close.”

He only hums, continuing at his work as your core begins to tense - closer, closer, closer, until you finally cum around his fingers. His name escapes you in a gravelly moan, falling silent as you try to catch your breath.

“Holy shit,” you laugh. “That was - wow. You’re a real connoisseur of your art.”

“I told you,” Viktor says, kissing up your stomach and chest until he’s finally positioned over you, knees on either side of your hips. “Only the best for you.”

“Allow me to return the sentiment,” you say, cupping your hand around his erection, which must now be painful and waiting to be relieved.

He moans, burying his face into your neck before nipping at your ear. Then he hooks his good leg around your knee, placing a kiss on your lips as you unbutton his shirt, thumbing circles on your clit as you try to undress him.

“You’re very distracting, you know that?”

“Yes,” Viktor responds. “But by all means, don’t stop.” His smile is fiendish as his fingers continue, but you eventually get him stripped and on top of you.

He’s just as desperate as you are, though - achingly hard in your hand, a bead of precum on his tip. He sighs as you stroke his length, his forehead brushing against yours as you work him with your hand, until he stops you.

“I’d like to last,” he says. Then, much softer, he murmurs, “I want to be inside you.”

You don’t hesitate to reach for a condom from your bedside drawer, and he shifts to a better position for his leg as you put it on.

Then he’s slowly inching himself inside you, much slower than he needs to be, considering how wet you are for him. His brows are pinched with effort, and he lefts out a soft, breathy moan when he’s finally filled you, kissing you.

The way he fucks you is intimate. The slow, devastating grinding of his hips into you, every thrust driving you closer to another climax. He kisses you like he’s memorizing your every reaction - the way it feels when you clench around him, how you moan, the way your hair fans around your face against the pillow.

Like you’re art.

When the both of you are close again, heat pooling up through your stomach - into your thighs, into everything - you grip his back and whine, tilting your head back. Viktor kisses against your neck, increasing his pace as you hang on the edge of the precipice, his steady thrusting driving you closer.

Breathing quickens, the both of you grow louder - and then, blinding white waves of pleasure crash against you. You clench hard around Viktor, breathing his name, your hand fisting in his hair. He groans, thrusting, one, two, three more times before he finds his release and kisses you hard.

There’s a moment where neither of you can really move, recovering from the moment, and then Viktor pulls out of you. You find him heading toward the bathroom, bringing back a cloth to clean you up as he smooths down your hair and presses a kiss on your forehead.

Out of nowhere, you laugh - finally processing the fact that Viktor is in your apartment, and had just fucked you. Months of wanting him, and he’s finally here.

“I must look like a mess,” you manage, sitting up as his thumb strokes your cheek. “Not exactly drawing material.”

“On the contrary,” Viktor says, pulling in for another kiss. “I’ve never wanted to draw you more.”

tags: @modernamilf @mischievous-piltovian @yeehawbvby @dianounais