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nyashykyunnie · 1 month

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˗ˏˋ Jinwoo x Isekaid! Artist! Reader ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ ˎˊ˗

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕁𝕚𝕟𝕨𝕠𝕠˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

・┆✦ Entry : 044 ✦ ┆・

[Tw: I think this fall under depictions of depression and panic attacks. Please, if you're not in the headspace, do not read this. ]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ My Muse] ¡! ❞

Isekaing to Solo Leveling is one thing, but living in this world is just... Way too brutal for your poor heart.

Why is that? Anxiety is a major enemy.

What do you mean everyone else is living normally not having little paranoid moments that lead to panic attacks with overtaking at the possibility of a gate opening somewhere near you and monsters would come out?

Sung Jinah's school wasn't even safe. How are you gonna live?

Anyway.

You have a job to do.

Even though you just wanna spend all of your time crying in the corner of your room and praying to god to protect you when technically you aren't even religious.

But what are you to do?

It's not like Sung Jinwoo will swoop in and save you from misery.

...Hahah, if only.

You are one of his more delulu fans, like every other girl in this country— You are a big fan.

Well, except the fact that you know far more things about Jinwoo since you came from a world where he is fiction.

The flex you have is that you know how awfully adorable that petty bastard is when he was still an E-ranker. Those Jinwoo simps will never know the fact that Jinwoo has the fluffiest and softest looking cheeks ever.

Not to mention, you have all of his powers memorized to even the titles those powers have. You can name a lot of his shadows.

Of course the easiest to name are Beru, Igris, Bellion, Kaisel, Tank,.... And the easiest,... One, two, three, four.... Yeah, you get it.

But why are you being so smug? As if you 're not the same fool who secretly buys Jinwoo polaroids. Coming from this country full of fangirls is a haven for you since there is quite... The plethora of Jinwoo trinkets.

And you, being a lovestruck fool, went all in and took "Take all my money" to the next level even though the man you're obsessing over is 10x more richer than you.

But ah, this isn't the time to fawn over your Jinwoo merch paradise.

You have work.

Thankfully enough, this world has given you mercy. Despite it preying on your paranoid self, it gave you the blessing of living the life you've always wanted.

And that is to be a freelance artist.

Not doing your average 9-5, crying about the lack of fame you receive that hinders the pathway to making a successful art career, not having to listen to family members berating your love for art as low as a drug abuse.

In this world, no one is going off about your craft, no one is belittling your passion to something akin to a crime.

Like it's just a pathetic hobby and there's no meaning to all the hard work you put in the past years improving your skills, there's no value to being able to draw squares and circles more impressive than others, there's nothing note worthy of being able to pick and choose colours— There's none of that.

To be honest, there was even lots of moments where you wanted to give up, where you realized maybe they're right.

Even if you had starved yourself just to save up for your art materials, even if you work hard micro-analyzing your artstyle, even if you spent hours studying the algorithms, even if you shed blood sweat and tears just for the glimmer of hope that maybe you can turn your art into something more— It's all just delusions.

Like how you hope to be one of those big artists who inspire other people to create their own pieces. Like how you secretly hope that maybe your artworks can bring a smile to anyone's face if they come across it. Like how you silently pray to every single star that may your wish come true.

You wanted to keep hoping, for the slim chance of having a single magnus opus that will instantly put you in the limelight— You wanted to keep having your hand outstretched to that tiny light.

But everyday, with each piece, you start to realize that your dreams are all for nothing.

You had been so focused on art that it's the only thing you have that defines who you are as a person and as an individual.

Art is what made you human.

Slowly, your innocent dreams molded itself into a twisted and vile poison that ate you from the inside out. Your love for creating backfired and now it's a blur if your passion stems from adoration or you just ran with it because it's the only thing that made you feel relevant in this world.

Maybe you should give up.

Even if there is a drastic improvement in your art with each piece, what good is it if it can't guarantee that career you oh so desperately want? The big artists say that you should make art for yourself, well yeah, they're right. But what if even if you do that it doesn't work?

Colour theory, shape language, line language, composition— All of those improved out of sheer love to learn. You've seen other people around you get careers out of it so it will happen to you?

Right?...

Right?

You're not a problematic artist, you don't make trouble, you don't make enemies, you don't participate in drama, you stay humble and eloquent.

Surely it will work... Right?...

Hahah.

In that world?

No it didn't.

It did not.

You died in your deathbed after being involved in a hit and run.

And after a long period of slumber, you have awoken in this world where somehow you are a renowned artist.

It felt shallow, really.

Suddenly having all of that in a snap of a finger through death?

Hah.

It felt like it mirrors Jinwoo's life. Except he had rightfully earned the flory of his powers.

Truthfully, you love him because of that.

What was it?

Ah yes.

"Because I was rock bottom, I longed for the highest peak."

That was the line that made you love him.

As someone who had no future in your art career, it was that line that made your heart yearn for him.

Two unfortunate souls who struggle in the same thing in different dimensions, except one managed to create that dream into reality.

Sure, you have the glory now. And although it made you so happy, it still felt so shallow because you didn't achieve this through hardwork. You just had to die.

You had to be dead.

It took dying to be given the mercy of having your dreams be granted.

And that just made you feel so... So awful.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

With a canvas on one hand, your painting materials neatly arranged in a bag in the other hand— You take a deep breath and enter the party.

Brilliant golden lights twinkle above your head coming from the magnificent chandelier hanging above. Cameras flashing, the clinking of glasses as hunters and celebrities discussed amongst themselves dressed in luxurious outfits and blinging jewelry.

The sight made your stomach sink and a lump in your throat forming.

This is an entirely different world you knew from the lonely greys and blues.

You look around frantically, almost panicking at the overwhelming chatter and blinding lights.

"Ah, you're here" A voice snaps you out of it.

You turn to see your sponsor, Choi Jong-in flashing a polite and handsome smile. You bow your head politely.

"Please," Jong-in simply shakes his head, "No need to be so polite. I am pleased that you have arrived in time. Champagne?"

He extends a glass towards you and you shake your head, sheepishly saying "O-oh... I'm not really an alcohol enjoyer. I'm fine."

"Ah, I see" He nods apologetically before gesturing you to a clearer space.

Jong-in escorts you to a less crowded area of the ball, the lessened crowd and noise calming your accelerated heartbeat down.

"If there is anything you need, please feel free to call me or the waiters" He says kindly, "You are also free to eat food."

"Thank you, Mr. Choi" You bow politely.

Before he could even reply, Jong-in was called over by a beautiful blonde girl you knew all too well.

Cha Hae-in.

She's as lovely as she was in the manhwa panels, with that red dress and her neatly tied hair— She was a sight to behold.

But as soon as you see a tall man clad in black, you feel a distinct thump in your heart, a twisting kind of small pain that made you feel like it stopped beating along with the way your lungs stopped breathing— You knew who it was.

"A guest?..." He inquires, making your heart thump even harder at the sound of that deep voice you only heard through the speakers of your phone and laptop.

"Mr. Sung, I'm glad you could make it along with my vice master" Jong-in hums, "This is an artist I'm sponsoring, I thought it would be a good idea to commemorate this important event celebrating humanity's win against the gates"

"Ah, I see" Jinwoo's handsome grey eyes would sweep onto your anxious form who is fidgeting uncontrollably in her hands. "I'm Sung Jinwoo,"

He extends a hand, making you look up at him with an even nervous look. It took you a while to extend your hand, and the moment your palm touched his— You felt as of you're touching someone from a different species. Something too unreal and dovine.

You barely had even managed to speak your name out with how much of a nervous wreck you are. Shaking his hand didn't happen if it weren't for Jinwoo gently doing it and letting you pull your hand away.

Your palms may have been trembling, but now it's even more erratic as you step back, not meeting his gaze.

Thank gods Jong-in decided to start a conversation to pivot Jinwoo's attention away from you.

As you attempt to calm yourself with a persistent panic attack, you feel a soft tap on your hands.

"Thank you for coming, I-I hope you enjoy your time" Hae-in says in her hesitant voice.

And you, who cant mutter a single word after your very first encounter with Jinwoo— Only muster a polite nod at her as she turns away to join Jong-in and Jinwoo in their conversation.

You were on a trance for almost five minutes, before finally deciding to set up your easel and canvas. You took out two different mason jars and filling them up with water; the gouache paint you will be using as a medium; the ceramic palette you have been using for quite a while now; and finally gently arranging your brushes.

Jong-in didn't specify what you should be painting for this event. But decided to paint the stage. An hour into the event, Jinwoo would start giving his speech as he is the main hero of the war against the gates and monarchs—As well as the person this whole event is dedicated to.

You had to pause in your process of painting the canvas, just to give respect to Jinwoo.

Your idol.

Your role model.

The man of your dreams.

His words aren't even registering as you can't help but be lost in a trance as he continues with his speech. Unconsciously, your hand raised itself and started to paint carefully, your eyes fixated on the hunter as your hand moved with a mind on its own.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jong-in was extremely worried for the artist he had hired, he could tell from earlier she was having a panic attack with the hesitance. And when Jinwoo came into the picture, it seemed to frighten her all the more. He quietly called for his secretary to add at least 40% more of the initial payment that was planned to compensate for the unintentional distress he had put her onto.

While Jinwoo was giving his speech, he couldn't help but check on her by glancing from the distance.

In that canvas, he saw the stage, and in that stage was Jinwoo.

The artist was carefully painting Jinwoo.

Delicate strokes despite her eyes not on the cloth and brush. She was just mindlessly moving her hand as she looks at Jinwoo.

"Ah... I see it now."

Jong-in quietly smiles to himself.

It wasn't that she was frightened of Jinwoo's intimidating presence. No way does someone scared of a person have that same intense look with such dilated pupils.

With a determined hum, Jong-in knew exactly what to do.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

It had been three days since that event, and Jinwoo was attending to paperwork when he was informed of Jong-in's visit.

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with a bit of worry that his 'senior' might scold him for renting out gates in territory of Hunter's guild.

To his surprise, Jong-in entered carrying a rather large thing into his office.

"???" Jinwoo cocks up an eyebrow, silently inquiring Jong-in at what is the thing he brought in.

"Take a look, hunter Sung" Jong-in simply says and the hunter reluctantly stood up from his chair to approach the item his senior placed down.

When Jinwoo pulled off the protective cloth, he was met with a brilliant painting that felt like it was straight out of a renaissance era painting.

The red curtains were blood red and shaded softly. The wood is delicately painted, with even tiny specks that indicates the painter's exquisite attention to detail, but most importantly— His eyes were drawn to the middle, where a man stood center.

It was him.

His face was delicately painted, even his tousled black locks were intricately painted to imitate the way his strands behaved, his body language was painted in a relaxed but still managed to somehow translate the undertone of authority and power he held over the crowd that was purposely painted in a blurry manner to give more focus to him. Even the lighting of the stage was expertly imitated on the canvas.

The piece looked as if its goal was to put emphasis on his—the man who is standing in the golden limelight. As if it were trying to put him on a divine pedestal, to show him off as this some sort of god woth the painting.

"Who?..." Jinwoo finally manages to inquire.

"The artist chose you as her muse for the painting" Jong-in says, fixing his tie as he does so. "Quite the talent, no? Even us hunters who have quite the skill in the art of combat, are taken aback by such craft. It was as if she had magic on her very fingertips despite being just a civilian."

"Her muse," Jinwoo repeats, not knowing what to feel about it.

"It would be... Quite indecent of me to keep a portrait of a rival in my guild, no?" Jong-in coughs out, making Jinwoo awkwardly nod. "Consider it as a gift and a thank you for assisting my guild in jeju raid as well as your role in the war."

"I have quite the awards really, no need" He shakes his head.

"Yes," Jong-in glances back at the painting. "But I think that you, as the painter's muse, must see for yourself this piece created on your image."

"Mn...."

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Jinwoo quite frankly grew curious of the little painter he met and made him the centerpiece of her painting. He was honestly worried at first, she was so small compared to him and she was trembling at the sight of him. It didn't help that he noticed how she grew more shaken after they exchanged pleasantries.

Maybe he had gripped her hand a little too much.

Beru on the other hand, was visibly very pleased at the painting as well as the other shadows who wont shut up about it.

Throughout his monotonous days and hours, Jinwoo would often think of the painter.

It feels... Weird to be in someone's painting.

It's unreal even.

But ah... By chance, he met that pleasant little painter again.

She was in the bookstore, picking up several heavy books. When he approached her, she was flustered and nearly dropped the books she was purchasing if it weren't for him assisting her.

Just like their first meeting, she was clearly bashful and anxious. So Jinwoo made space between them and made small talk.

Somehow, their small talks would develop into long and meaningful ones with the days passing of them having frequent encounters.

There is this tiny, tiny warmth in Jinwoo's heart whenever he finds himself in the presence of his painter.

His heart whom he thought had lost its capability to harbor affection— Is beating fast whenever he crosses paths with her.

There is... Something about her.

Her little habits, her never ending curiosity, her childish habits and her love for everything beautiful. Somehow, everything in her eyes has the potential to be a piece of artwork.

Jinwoo was never a creative soul, he's only ever creative at insults maybe.

So to see someone so dedicated to her own craft, to see someone so full of love for something... It's like peering into a different world he never thought was there.

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

Go Gunhee decided to visit Jinwoo, it was to thank the hunter again with coffee beans and two— Just to visit Jinwoo.

"Ah, hunter Sung," Gunhee smiles as the person he waited for appears. "I hope you don't mind, I just wanted to pop in"

"Not at all, director" Jinwoo smiles politely.

"That piece," The old man's gaze drifts to a painting hun by Jinwoo's side. "What a magnificent work of art. I heard Hunter Choi gifted it to you after the artist he hired decided to put you as the centerpiece. Truly such remarkable talent by a younger lady."

"Yes, hahah" Jinwoo awkwardly rubs his nape.as he serves Gunhee a cup of tea.

"My father told me that artists have a special kind of love" Gunhee hums, reminiscing. "He told me that having an artist love you is different. A writer glorifies you into pleasant words, a musician translates your beauty into compelling music and a painter immortalises all of you in a single painting. A blank canvas is a tool by painters that they use to communicate. All the ugliness of the world can be put into ink, and all the beauty into wonderful pops of pleasant colors"

He continues, "And through my years, this is one of the few most magnificent pieces I've ever seen that shows the painter's love for it's muse"

"Her muse," Jinwoo repeats it, "I've been told the same thing."

"A lovely feeling, no?" Gunhee chuckles, "To be loved by a person so full of love."

"...So that's what it means"

"..."

The old man's face wrinkles into a happier smile.

Young love, truly beautiful, isn't it?

⋅ ˚ ₊ ‧ ଳ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⋅ ⋆ ౨ৎ ˚ ⟡ ˖ ࣪

"That colour is really pretty" You mutter absentmindedly glance at the flowing water underneath, as if trying to ingrain the memory and behaviour of it.

"Thinking of a new artwork, again?" Jinwoo asks, glancing down at the direction you were staring at. "I can't wait to see what you'll make."

"Your pieces are always so beautiful"

It felt as if something struck an arrow at your heart, you glance at Jinwoo— Completely frozen in state.

When he noticed the heavy silence, his eyes would befall on you before his mouth going a little agape.

You're crying.

"Did... I say something wrong?..." Jinwoo asks and you panic, immediately tearing your gaze away.

"No, no, no" You shake your head, hiding your shameful tears from Jinwoo.

Compliments with your art were never really foreign, but you, being the insecure sad soppy excuse of a human being would always downplay it most of the time.

You were never truly satisfied with yourself and anything you ever made. Mostly because you came from a household where everything is never enough.

Ultimately, that system has been fully ingrained into your body that it became your personality.

Colors are muddy, the lines aren't steady or too thick or thin, the anatomy is off, the composition isn't fluid and the harmony is all over the place.

You were always, always, critical of yourself.

Nothing is ever enough.

Your works aren't beautiful enough, and you thought they never will be.

But when Jinwoo told you your art was beautiful, it caused something to crack inside and burst open.

Maybe it's because you loved him so much. Maybe it's because he is the person you admire the most in your sorry, lonely life.

It was always Jinwoo who was in your mind whenever you had those bad episodes of just having silent mental breakdowns.

It's his image that became your most beloved saviour.

Perhaps you're sobbing because you're finally able to hear the words you've imagined he would during the times you daydreamed about him.

Or maybe... Your body reacted because you knew deep down that Jinwoo was never a liar.

That he didn't say those words out of empty praise, that he said your crafts is beautiful because they simply are.

In your broken, shattered heart a heavy yet soft warmth swelled. Swelling so much that you felt so overwhelmed and couldn't control your emotions.

That kind of validation just felt like it washed away all the doubts that plagued you for years.

As you cried uncontrollably, Jinwoo would instinctively reach his hand out and pull you in for a searing kiss. His tongue gently nudges your lips before shoving itself into it.

One flick.

Two flicks

Three flicks,...

Until you yourself cant even count it anymore.

He pulls back slowly, but still not far enough for you not to feel his hot breath fanning over your cheeks.

"I only said your paintings are beautiful and yet you are crying like this, sarang?" He rubs his nose against yours, "Just what happened to you that you're this emotional, hm? Did you not think what you make is stunning? Did you never once think that your pieces are captivating? Why are you crying like this? How hurt have you been that it feels like you're crying out this kind of sorrow I can't seem to understand?"

"Why does your sobs feel like you've been dealing with such loneliness that a simple sincere compliment breaks you to this extend?"

"Everything about you is beautiful. All of you is beautiful." Jinwoo says in that ever so gentle voice of his, "Never doubt that for even a single second."

꒰ 🪼 A/N: what started as another simple fluffy idea turned into something more... Personal :'DD. Sorry guys hahahahsheshdg. Idk when I will have the free time to make the second half of the cai bots yet but please look out for when I do. ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧･ﾟ: ~♡ — All stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

#sung jinwoo #solo leveling #sung jin woo #kiwoo sung #only i level up #solo leveling headcanons #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo headcanons #sung jinwoo x you #sung jinwoo fics #ore dake level up na ken

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nrdmssgs · 1 year

Note

CONGRATS ON 500, you 100% deserve it and more !!! 🥹🌷💐 i just love your art and work so, so much!!

if it's alright, can i request 37 with könig? my husband, i need him !!!! 😮‍💨

Masterlist List of prompts What? An author, who practically inspired me to come here and start writing? An author, who gifted me the biggest brainrot for many sides of König? Sends me a request? Orla, I am such a huge fan!!!!!! I love your style, love your bold, picturesque oneshots, love your eagerness to discover so many themes. I owe you so much, you don't have an idea. I made a text and a picture in case, you don't like the text. Sorry, I'm fangirling and I'm nervous)

Does it make you nervous, when I stare?

Pairing: KonigxReader Warning: this is NSFW. And König here is not the shyest guy on Earth, because this is colonel edition.

Oh, the things, you would let this man do to you. Unspeakable, ungodly things. Things so unhinged, you wouldn't mention them even after a few rounds of shots with your besties.

One sight of his fingers tapping the tabletop during the debriefing, and you can't think about anything other than the salty taste on your lips, left by his thumb. It would take him just one word, or maybe even one glance to make you cover his index and middle finger in saliva, as he would slide them against your tongue. You'd be so good - standing on your knees for him, sucking his fingers so eagerly, fighting your own gag reflex.

One glance thrown at his forearms, tightly hugged by black cloth, and you imagine his massive hands picking you up like you weigh nothing at all. You'd freeze, learn to hold your breath for as long as he wants, until you'd feel only the brush of his mouth against yours and the grumble of his impatience when he pushes in. The intoxicating thickness of his tongue against yours would be a taste that would rocket to your core and melt you from the inside, as he'd hover over you, pushing apart your legs with the brush of his massive thighs between yours. He'd take and take and take. And how obediently will you keep giving him anything, he demands.

Looking at his hips is a serious danger. Slick outlines of his muscles, his fingers brushing up and down his lap, black holster straps spanning his thigh make you go absolutely feral. You'd be standing still, feeling his low growl with your entire body. You'd hold your hands high against the wall and arch your back, so he can have access to every single part of your body. You'd accept him reminding you, with each his hungry thrust, where your place is: wrapped in his arms while he rubs you senseless, his teeth on your neck leaving you on the edge of pain.

All that fantasies you could hide from König, if it wasn't for his eyes: deep cold silver light, sparkling with interest, every time, he caught you staring. You couldn't make yourself look away: his stare was a predatory gaze, luring you closer, easing you into a thought of coming closer, stripping you of any bit of self-preservation instinct. Yes, when he caught your eyes - König took his time, ravishing in a sight of your desperate blush, letting go of you and turning his gaze away only when you were literally choking with shame, trying to drive away the visions that he awakened in your mind. This man was to become the end of you, and every next day it was only harder to fight that feeling off.

So when you hear, he is expanding his team, it feels only natural to surrender and use this ghostly opportunity to get closer to him. You know, your chance to join the team, his inner circle, is almost zero. By no means, you can be considered a poor professional, but the Colonel is a legend here. He doesn't want just 'the best' he wants those outstanding even from the best. And your personnel files scream 'just good' at best. But you have a motivation, the one so strong and specific, that maybe only you here have. Your obsession with König is pushing you to the darkest void, you were too scared to come to earlier - the threshold of his office.

"Come in." His voice at it finest: not too loud, not too harsh, all honey and slumber. When he wants, he can be mesmerizing as a siren.

You clench your hand into a fist behind your back, thus trying to calm the trembling that is rolling up to your knees.

"Just don't look him in the eyes, and it would be ok. Hands, yes, you can bear looking at his hands and not lose it. Afterward you can have whatever you want - your toys, your fingers, your cushions... Just look at his hands, breathe deep, and it all will be alright." Your inner monologue is interrupted only when he is pulling a folder from your hands, obviously tired of waiting for you to finally give it to him.

"What do we have he- oh..." Your breath hitches, you practically hear an uncanny smile spreading across his face.

"Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel?*" König sounds amused. And although you don't entirely understand, what he said - you get the message and nod, not daring to look him in the eyes.

"Very good. I could use such a treasure..." He flips the pages and clicks his tongue when some of your personal indicators impress him. And before you manage to exhale, he adds: "But I'll need to test you. See, if you are... ready."

"Anything, Colonel!" You blurt it out and immediately shut your mouth, realizing that it might sound ambivalent. But that's enough to make König raise from his seat and lead you from offices to firing range.

You blame it upon a rush of blood to your head, but you pass his test with flying colors. Physical tests, advanced weaponry, strategy, even sparing with König leaves you alive and just a little trembling.

The thing, that breaks you, is not even a test or a check. It happens late in the evening, when you two end up in the locker room. You just need to remove one layer of the tactical gear you were using, you'll still have your shirt and jeans on. But you stop, paralyzed, seeing out of the corner of your eye how König leans against the wall, arms folded on his chest. His gaze, you feel his gaze: lingering and hungry.

"What's wrong, treasure? Are you hurt?" You are afraid to answer and reveal your trembling voice, so you just shake your head.

"You don't know, how to loosen those straps? Want me to help you?" Again: you only shake your head, hiding your gaze.

"Is it my eyes, that make you that nervous, Schatzi*?" His accent thickens, voice drops low, as he steps closer.

You instinctively lean back, but hit the wall behind you. He takes one more step towards you and places his hand between the wall and the back of your head, so that you don't hurt yourself occasionally. But very soon, he guides you to finally look up at him. There it is: silver light, that you can never look away from, once you saw it.

"Talk to me. There can be no secrets inside my team." His voice is soft once again, but you know, it is a trap. And you fall for it.

"I just get distracted. Don't worry, Colonel, I'll learn to ignore it or to live quietly with it. Sorry..." Your voice, your entire body, is trembling.

"There's nothing to apologize for." Something sparkles deep inside his eyes. He moves his veil up, so you can see his lips, and leans right to your ear. "In fact, how about you come at the same time to my office tomorrow, treasure? After all, you've proven, you can be so good for me... It's my turn to convince you, I too can be good for you, Schatzi."

Die Kleine will in meinem Spiel? - Little one wants in my game?

Schatzi - little treasure

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k2ntoss · 7 months

Note

OMG MARA

Soft, lazy kisses and innocent touches that turn bolder and more sinful as you just can’t resist each other.

“This is wrong.” “So wrong.” While continuing to pull at each others clothes, mind fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.

THIS TWO WITH JASONNN PLEASEEE

girl, allow me to fangirl over this because YOU are here on my asks i feel so *screams* okay okay okay !!!! let me get at it, i just love how your mind works so here we go :3 bestfriends shit with jay

soft, lazy kisses and innocent touches that turn bolder and more sinful as you just can't resist each other + "this is wrong." "so wrong." while continuing to pull at each others clothes, mind fogged with nothing but lust and arousal

it was meant to be a lecture afternoon on his place, jason offered to help you prepare yourself for a literature test and it was like it at first but it was easy to get distracted when any other thing to talk about popped into your head and jason couldn't help it but to listen to you and then go on a long ramble with you.

right now he leans back into the couch, letting you lay your head on his chest as you go on rambling about thay last episode you watched of your favorite show, he listens to you with patience and he is bery much aware of the books that lay now untouched on your coffee table.

"so you know how that's just a metaphor to let us know that hannibal is actually in love with will? i mean, why would you compare yourself and your patient to achilles and patroclus if you weren't in love with him?" you ask him and jason looks like he thinks about it before nodding.

"i can see your point, but i haven't seen the show to know a little more about their interactions" he replies with a subtle shrug as his hand goes to softly play with your hair as he presses his chin on top of your head "but i do know that achilles and patroclus weren't just friends, that's pure bullshit"

and that makes you laugh, the way he always speaks his mind and how smart jason always sounds when it comes to literature and art never fails to amaze you. he looks down at you at the same time you look up at him at you can feel his heart beat a little faster at how close your faces are. you both like each other and you both know it, the subtle hand touching when you walk by his side that makes him smirk proudly when you blush or the lingering kisses on your forehead and cheeks are just too clear, the way you enjoy it too much when jason holds you and how you always find an excuse to nuzzle into his side makes him aware.

so why would he miss the chance to taste those pretty lips of yours? jason leans in to press his lips on yours, soft and sweet as his hands cup your cheeks, your own finding their way to covers his and it's all so cute because he pulls away with a small and shy smile "did you know you're just too cute when you ramble about the things you like?" jason says softly, his lips brushing against your before he kisses you again, one of his hand now down on your neck to bring you closer.

"i didn't knew, but have i told you already how good you look when you speak about the things you know?" you reply in a cheeky tone, pulling away as your hand goes down to hold onto his wrist before kissing his lips too, leaning into his body just so you could both lazily lay there on the couch and keep on kissing each other. soon enough the hand that was still cupping your cheek finds your waist and yours is now pressed against his chest, the kiss grows a little deeper when jason's tongue touches softly your bottom lip before making its way between your parted lips, breath growing a bit heavier.

you are fighting yourself to keep quiet, it was just jason and you on the living room but his roomate was on his own room too, you knew roy well enough to know he was like jay's brother and you knew thst maybe, just maybe you both didn't wanted to be found kissing almost on top of each other as your hands roammed over your bodies.

jason grunts against your mouth when your hand tugs at his shirt and be bites your lip playfully, pulling again without letting go off it just yet and with his eyes fixed on yours as he smirks at you, one of his hands starting to slide under your shirt making you feel his fingertips warm against your stomach.

there isn't a word worth saying when he lets go of your lip because as soon as he does you're back at kissing him, needier and hungrier as his tongue swirls into your mouth making him moan lowly when you suck on it, your fingers now caressing the nape of his neck before diving into his hair as his hand goes up your torso, teasingly touching the edge of your bra.

you took it as a sing, moving until you sat on his lap. jason held your hips with one of his arms around your body, his other hand now fully cupping one of your tits as the kiss got more heated, sloppy and aggressive. he was biting on your lips, letting your tongue wrestle with his and grunting when you first moved your hips against his pelvis.

"not here. roy could find us and i'm not really on the mood to let him see you like this" jason mumbles, forcing himself away from your lips as he sits on the couch, making you straddle him before standing up so he could carry you to his room. as he did he kissed your neck, smirking everytime a soft giggle came out of your lips as you tilted your head, fingers gripping his hair as he did bit your skin playfully.

"god jason, you're playing with me" you said in a whisper, the grin on your lips only fueled jason as he closed the door by kicking it and it made you moan the second he pushed your body against the wall that he shared with roy.

"am i now, princess?" he asks, whispering too and looking up at you as he was still holding you with your legs wrapped around his waist and as soon as you nod his hands travel from under your knees to your ass, giving you a playful squeeze before devouring your lips again.

jason feels your hands tugging his shirt from his back, starting to pull it up and he pushes you a little more so his hands can do the same with your shirt and it's messy because you can't seem to stop kissing and let out muffled moans and grunts into each other's mouth.

"this is wrong." jason chuckles as he pulls away from your lips, pupils blown wide as he manages to take off your shirt and his hands tremble a little when he unclasps your bra and lets it fall from your shoulder, moaning when he's able to see your bare breasts.

"so wrong." you agree with a sweet giggle, your hands pulling up his shirt and taking it off before tossing it away. it wasn't that you didn't felt anything for jason but there was this voice inside your heads that whispered about this maybe not working between you, but being honest there wasn't two people more meant to be than you.

knowing this by how well you got along, by how you completed each other was soothing because it meant the same for you. the lust and arousal also complemented by how you loved him and he loved you made every touch and kiss a hundred times more intense. it's easy to push that thought aside when he puts you down, his hands going down to unbutton your jeans as his lips glide down your neck, your hands also undoing jason's belt and unbuttoning his jeans before your touch wanders down to caress his half-hardened cock.

the low moan that leaves his mouth as he sucks a small mark on your shoulder makes you grin, he's now pulling your pants down and gripping at your hips with a smirk as you stroke him over his boxers and it turns him on so much it's not so long until you both manage to let all your clothes scattered over the floor of jason's room.

"you look so damn good like this," he mutters against your ear, his voice rumbles at how deep it turns when your hand moves up and down around his dick, his fingers tracing a path between your thighs until he finds your core and he grins widely when he feels your wetness "being so wet just for me."

the stroke he makes between your folds drags a moan out of your lips and he hushes you with a bruising kiss, thumb circling on your clit as your fingers trace his cock and one of your legs is wrapped again around his hips to give him easier access to your cunt.

"you have to be quiet, baby." he whispers against your lips as you rock your hips against his hand and he sounds already so dominant you only manage to nod, holding back a deep moan when his fingers collect your slick before he pushes two into your entrance, stretching you in a way that made you moan silently, lungs suddenly breathless by how he found your sweet spot with such an ease it got your legs weak.

"fuck jay," you whine lowly, trying to keep your voice as soft as you can because you want to be loud to at least muffle the sounds on his fingers inside your aching pussy "i need you inside of me, please..." you beg in a pleading whisper, eyes glazed as you move your hand to press his tip against your throbbing clit.

the need and lust on your voice and face makes him growl and he takes his fingers out of you, quickly replacing your hand with his. stroking himself he uses your slick and his precum to make sure he can slide into your warmth. it only takes him seconds until jason pulls you up again, wrapping your legs around his hips as he uses one of his hands to guide himself inside of you and he grunts as soon as your thight walls swallow his shaft.

"that's it... taking me so good," he says, letting you hear the smirk on his lips as he presses your back against the wall and gives a first slow thrust "it's like this pussy was made just for me, isn't it?"

and he sounds just so filthy you can't help but moan this time a little louder, jason chuckles at that as his hands hold onto your hips to start thursting into you a little faster and harder. your hands gripping onto his shoulders as your fingernails sink on his skin amd the way he looks at your parted lips makes him feel so proud of himself.

"i- i need you to ruin me, jay." you'd say when his fingers grip a little harder on your plushy hips "don't care if someone hears me, please make me scream your name." and the way you beg for him makes him feel even more powerful.

"want me to make you scream like a pretty whore, baby?" he asks with a deep thrust, his eyes dark with lust and need "i'm gonna ruin you so bad, you won't ever feel so good again in your life if it's not my cock inside of you, you'll be all mine."

you'd be lying if you said you wouldn't cum just with his words but it was a mix of everything. the filthy talking, the way he fucked you pressed against the wall while picking you up like a little toy and how he looked at you as if he needed to own you in every possible way; you just wanted to let him get his way with you, wanted him to ruin sex for you because you knew not other person was going to be able to bring this much pleasure to you.

jason kept going, his deep strokes making you cry and whine as you held onto him for dear life. head falling back as he kissed and marked your neck and tits, nibbling on your nipples as his thick cock kissed your cervix, bringing you to the edge and making him growl heavily when you clenched around him like a vice.

"you feel so fucking thight, princess, tell me how much you need to cum." he asks breathlessly as he slows his pace a little, kissing sloppier pecks on the side of your neck as he waits for your reply.

"so much, jay, need to cum so much." you beg in a whiny tone, your eyes fixed on his and he nods, kissing your lips soothingly because he knows you're overwhelmed and your climax tenses your body more and more with each thrust.

"c'mon, baby... cum all over this cock." he grunts, kissing your chin as he goes back to that fast and hard pace, pulling you down on him and moving your body as if it was nothing "cum and scream my name like the little slut you are,"

his voice and the way he moves inside of you is enough to make you moan loudly, crying his name out loud as your body jerks in an intense orgasm that makes your inner walls clench around him in a way that made it seem like your pussy was pushing him out, feeling that made him grunt heavily, emptying his load inside of you with a messy and deep thrust.

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slasherwife · 2 years

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Slashers reaction when their s/o catches them without mask for the first time? Pls and thank you!

s/o catches their slashers without a mask

awww yes!! i must give happy endings to all of these 😭🫶

warnings: extra short bc daddy bo doesn’t wear a mask 🥲💗

thomas hewitt:

He feels guilty

He wasn’t careful and now he’s scarred you from letting you see his scarred face. He’s ashamed he couldn’t keep you from himself 😭❤️‍🩹

And in a way it feels invasive. He feels like he’s been seen naked, and he quickly looks away with the feeling of embarrassment and shame fills him💔

He goes to leave, quickly entering the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

after about a minute of refusing to look at himself in the mirror, he hears gentle breath coming from the other side of the oak wood door.

his better half, asking if he’s okay. that it looked like he saw a ghost, and then laughing. then telling him that you miss him. and that, “by the way, you’re beautiful.”

he starts to cry, smiling, and looks into the mirror at the face that they said was beautiful. 💗💗

jason vorhees:

jason isn’t really self aware like thomas is. he isn’t one to worry about what he looks like anymore 🤗

i mean, he does worry that you won’t find him attractive, but it’s not to the point where he will refuse to ever let you see him with his mask off!

the first time was when he was down by the lake, sitting down washing a trap that had flesh still inside, minding his own💞 he had taken off his mask to breathe freely the lake air.

he had thought you’d been asleep for a long time, inside the cabin. and he had been so threaded in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the door open.

“hi jason” your voice rang out sweetly, slightly caught off guard because his mask was off but nontheless wanting to greet him🫶

he says nothing (obv), but instead of giving you his long soft glance like he usually does, he looks away, and down, almost trying to hide his face as he grows stiff

you grow slightly deflated, but your love for him seems to intensify, and you can’t stop the words before they come out, “you have beautiful eyes.”

jason’s eyes flicker to you, then back to the ground, then pats the ground beside him for you to keep him company 💕💕🥺

michael myers:

this guy is the literally opposite of thomas he does not care at all😭 he is literally so not self aware at all

he likes his mask but sometimes the thing gets real smelly so he has to throw it in dishsoap water yk 🥲

then you come around the corner he’s like “oh hey y/n” literally nothing off about what’s being seen atm 😃😂💞

you TRY to play it cool but at the same time you’re like fangirling over seeing your hot smexy murderer husband without a mask for the first time 💕😇

but at the same time like he probably sleeps without the mask on so i’m assuming y’all sleep separate until now 🥲

if not then you see it so early into the relationship like it’ll be no big deal 😇💕

bo sinclair:

boy doesn’t wear a mask, his face is too hot and sexy to be contained 😍

vincent sinclair:

absolutely horrified. he doesn’t even like being alone without his mask on that much.

has literally considered waxing the actual mask to his face permanently😕❤️‍🩹

he just was repairing it— he got too close to a radiator on accident and needed to repair it. then his baby walked in🥺

hears the door open and IMMEDIATELY flinches away. he knows you caught a glimpse, and he’s terrified, and mortified.

he’s breathing deeply, frozen, stiff, like one of his sculptures. you on the other hand are concerned. 🥹

“darl? is everything okay my love?” you call out softly, so not to startle him💞 he doesn’t answer, and doesn’t move.

“i went looking for some petrol, i knew you wanted some for your art. it’s in the shed.” he noticed that you never called his statues “sculptures” or “wax dolls” like bo always did. you called them “art” 💝💞

“honey you don’t have to hide from me. i will always respect your privacy, i will never ask you to show me your face. but you will never have to hide from me because i love all of you.” 🥹💗

you say this to him and he softens like the wax on his mask. it was within the next few days that he’d rather throw it into the fire than melt it into his skin forever 💞💞

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magua-vida · 5 months

Text

SLAY THE QUEEN THORN

I was inspired by Abby's sketch of a hypothetical Queen version of the Princess, so I tried my hand at it with a few vessels, including this one. I... ended up drawing something akin to a fashion design concept art rather than a practical design that won't be tiring to draw over and over after a handful of sprites later. I also had to use a bit more artistic license growing unnatural poppies on the dress and the thick twirly prickly noodles.

some explanations behind the process

For the "mended" Thorn, I pretty much just removed the foreground thorns and added the dirt.

rambling/fangirling/screenshots below:

The Thorn is one of my favorites. If I had to choose only five vessels to offer to Shifty and there's no replayable feature, she'll definitely be one of them. I'm one of those suckers who's into Hurt/Comfort stories. Almost like a masochist for those fics, you could say. If the climax to an Action-heavy story is the defeat of one party, then the catharsis of Hurt/Comfort is when the two characters... well, comfort each other- either due to hurt from each other or someone else. In The Thorn's case, she started off rather innocently, Damsel-like, but not quite. She still had caution. It was until she was literally stabbed in the back that she learned that it was a mistake. And when Long Quiet offered sincere regret and admission of fault, she stabbed him... but she didn't feel the relief she thought she'd get from it. I think many relate to having been betrayed and/or betraying someone they trusted, and the scratches are felt by many players.

The thorns curve inward, as if it's more painful to leave her than it is to approach her.

Poppies grow around along the bramble. Many mistook them for roses because they're red and there are brambles (tbh, I actually dunno if they're brambles or briars, I looked them up and I got confused, forgive me, plant enthusiasts ;.;) that grow around the patches of those poppies. Death and romance~

This brings back to Chapter 1 where Hero was kinda-sorta-maybe-definitely crushing on the Princess and wants to give her the benefit of the doubt, not only because of feelings, but for a reasonable cause of wanting to rescue someone who possibly may actually be a victim of circumstance.

Look, I have reasons why Thorn route is one of my favorites and it definitely doesn't have anything to do with both characters having massive trust issues and the capability to change themselves for better or worse and the emotional moments hitting me like a lovely diamond-dusted dagger. Both of them are rather cat-like with pointy ears too.

I appreciate that you're still given the options to leave or stab Thorn, as if the situation isn't pitiable enough. Even her tiara looks like a crown of thorns. It's as if she views the thorns as both a form of penance and a defence mechanism to protect herself from being hurt again, even though she's hurt by her own making this time.

I chose for the Long Quiet to save her and leave the cabin together.

This part stabbed me the most. Even when shown genuine help, she shrinks back.

This part burns a bit of the jadedness away. Trust is a scary thing, so is love. How can you be so sure that you won't be hurt by the one you love again? But just like what The Prisoner says, it's about trust- blind trust. Thorn looks more human than her previous self- less animalistic, softer. A part of The Damsel returns, even in the music.

I recall weighing on whether I prefer the version with the Voice of the Cheated or Voice of the Smitten. I vaguely remember wondering if there was an option to ask her if it's okay to kiss her. I guess the ideal would be is to have that choice, but I suppose the climactic moment calls for it and she doesn't mind it, at least. It's like the option to hug Astarion from BG3, but you're not sure whether he'd be comfy with it after being hurt so much. He gave approval for it too~

As much as Thorn is one of my favorites, I'm not attracted to her and any of the vessels. Instead, I ship her with the Long Quiet- the character himself. I don't really see myself AS the Long Quiet, more like choosing what actions on what he does and I separate myself from him a lot for many reasons. It's a bit like the Harry situation from Disco Elysium in terms of seemingly blank-slate protagonists.

Instead, I kinda put myself into her situation to feel how she felt in this route. The poppies not only felt symbolic of her nature as part of the Shifting Mound, but also specifically the end of the mutual treachery you've inflicted on each other, potentially beginning anew on a path of healing.

==============ramble-bramble over===================

#black tabby games #slay the queen #slay the princess #the thorn #stp the thorn #surprise astarion from bg3 #blood

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