#the kid at the back smut

[killerelysia]

Bound by Tears, Held by Love- Solivan Brugmansia x Yan! G.N Reader (Smut!)

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!-

Words: 16000

Genre: Yandere- Reader is same from the Sol series I wrote!!

(Reader is G.N)-(This one-shot is nsfw!)

Summary : After a long day, For some reason, Sol didn't come to class today. You missed him terribly! You meet him again? After a nice bath with him ? Will he you make feel better? <3

TW/CW: Mentions of marking, Manipulation, Slight pet-play, Dirty talks, Yandere Y/n and Solivan Brugmansia , Toxic relationship, Unhealthy relationship, Edging turned overstimulation, Suggestive, Manipulation, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationships/feelings, Clingy, Manipulation, Jealous, Both Reader and Sol are submissive-dominant at one point each, oral sex, rough handling, and marking/branding with bites. It may also touch on themes of possessiveness, dominance.

In short,

Content Warning: This one-shot will contain explicit sexual themes, graphic descriptions of intimate acts, and strong language. It may not be suitable for all audiences.

Please proceed with caution if these triggers could cause distress. If you experience any discomfort during our exchange, feel free to pause or end the roleplay at your discretion.

EXTRA: I DIDNT WRITE SMUT FOR A LONG TIME ITS SO CRINGE SOBI WANNA DIE

The day had started like any other, but it quickly spiraled into a mess you hadn't expected. Sol wasn’t at university today. You’d noticed right away—the lack of his subtle smiles, the absence of his quiet presence trailing just a little too close for comfort. It wasn’t until you received a text from him, right as you arrived, that the weight of his absence truly hit.

“Busy today. Don’t wait for me. Be good, pumpkin.”

The message had felt colder than usual, even if he added his usual nickname for you. There wasn’t time to dwell on it, though, because Deryl had immediately intercepted you, going on about how you needed to talk to Crowe. Something about sorting things out, making things right. But you couldn’t—didn’t. Crowe was always so understanding, so kind, and deep down, you felt like you didn’t deserve to lean on him anymore.

Instead, you spent time with Hyugo, grateful for the distraction. His bubbly energy kept things light, even as you carried the weight of your emotions silently. He’d thanked you again for helping him keep his family off his back, allowing him to do what he loved without their interference. Hyugo was a good soul, and you were glad you could be there for him. But as the hours passed, he too had to leave, off to his mysterious errands.

This part of lore is locked <3

Alone now, you wandered aimlessly, the campus feeling too big and too empty without Sol. You thought about your friendship with Crowe, about how things had unfolded. You hadn’t meant to hurt Sol, but it was clear now that your closeness with Crowe had struck a nerve. Sol had always been possessive in his quiet, brooding way, and you’d been too caught up in your own thoughts to notice. He will kill him.

If he kills Crowe.

You would kill him.

You felt like a terrible person. Guilty. Torn. You’d never meant to make him jealous or sad, but you were delusional about the whole situation. You’d let your feelings and uncertainties cloud your judgment. And now, you were left with this gnawing ache, the realization that you’d hurt the one person who always tried so hard to be there for you.

The sky opened up, rain pouring down in heavy sheets. At first, you welcomed it—maybe it would cleanse the suffocating guilt weighing on your chest. But then the tears started, mingling with the rain as they slid down your cheeks. The world around you blurred, and you were thankful no one could see you like this.

The rain might have hidden your tears, but it couldn’t hide the pain. Not from yourself.

The rain fell like a curtain of sorrow, soaking through to the bone, but you barely felt it. Each step homeward was heavy, burdened by a tempest within. The air was thick with the smell of rain on pavement, a melancholy symphony of muted taps and sighs. Your clothes clung to your skin, hair plastered against your face, as if the storm itself sought to keep you captive to your despair.

From the shadows, unseen by your drenched and wandering gaze, Crowe lingered. His dark eyes followed your figure, his usual calm replaced by something raw and unspoken. Beside him, Deryl nudged his arm, his voice low and insistent, “Go. Give it to them. Say something.”

Brittney and Jess, ever the voices of gentle encouragement, echoed Deryl’s sentiment. Crowe exhaled, the weight of their words pushing him toward resolve. He took the umbrella in hand, its promise of shelter feeling heavier than its frame. Slowly, he stepped forward, his polished shoes splashing through shallow puddles.

Yet he stopped.

It wasn’t hesitation that froze him, but the sight that awaited him just ahead. You had paused, your head bowed, lashes fluttering closed against the rain’s assault. A moment of peace amidst the chaos. And then, as if conjured by some unspoken wish, there he stood—Sol.

His silhouette emerged from the haze of rain, an umbrella poised like an offering, a silent guardian come to reclaim his place by your side. Your eyes opened, catching sight of him, and Crowe saw it—the transformation. The way your sorrow melted into joy, the way your lips curved into something radiant, unburdened.

A laugh escaped you, light and unrestrained, and before Crowe could comprehend it, you had flung yourself into Sol’s arms. The man caught you as if it were the most natural thing in the world, his embrace firm yet tender, his hand cradling the back of your head as if you were something precious.

Crowe’s breath caught. For a moment, his grip on the umbrella tightened, knuckles pale against its dark handle. But then, as your laughter rang out again, he forced himself to smile. A smile forged from steel, brittle at its edges, but sincere in its core. You were happy. That was enough. It had to be enough.

You were happy with Mr Brugmansia.

Sol’s gaze lifted then, catching sight of Crowe standing just beyond your bubble of bliss. Sol’s eyes were cold, darkened by the storm, and Crowe felt the weight of his disdain like a physical blow. But Crowe, ever the gentleman, merely inclined his head, a gesture of quiet acknowledgment.

Sol, however, looked away, his jaw tight. To him, Crowe was a specter, a name he hated to utter—Ichabod, the shadow that lingered too close to you for comfort. Sol held you tighter, burying his face in your damp hair as if to remind himself, and you, who truly held your heart.

And so, Crowe turned, his shoes splashing once more through the puddles as he retreated into the rain. The umbrella remained unopened in his hand, its purpose unfulfilled. He carried it as a memento of a chance unclaimed, a reminder of the moment he realized the truth.

You were someone else’s.

But as Crowe disappeared into the storm, the sound of your laughter lingered, like the faintest chime of a distant bell. And for that, he smiled once more, his heart both heavy and light.

He was happy, you were..happy.

The rain cascaded around you, creating a private world where the rest of the universe ceased to exist. You squealed in delight, clutching Sol tighter, your wet clothes making the embrace all the more intimate. Sol’s faint smile deepened, though his cheeks flushed a soft pink that reached to the tips of his ears.

“Did you miss me that much?” he murmured, his voice low, almost teasing.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, your fingers lightly brushing his damp hair from his face. "Of course I missed you! What kind of question is that?" you teased, your tone playful yet edged with sincerity.

Sol’s blush deepened, and he turned his face away, his free hand gripping the umbrella handle tightly. “I... I didn’t mean to stay away. I... If you’re mad, I—” He hesitated, his voice cracking slightly as his gaze found yours again. There was something almost desperate in the way his soft orange eyes searched yours, as though afraid he'd ruined something precious.

“Pumpkin, how... How would I make it up to you?” he asked, the pet name spilling from his lips with a rawness that made your heart flutter.

You couldn’t help it. His flustered expression, his genuine guilt—it was all so endearing. Before he could ramble further, you wrapped your arms around him again, burying your face in his chest. His heart thundered beneath your ear, and you smiled against him.

“You don’t have to make anything up, silly,” you whispered, your voice muffled but laced with affection. Tilting your head up, you pressed a soft kiss to his jawline, lingering just enough to feel him stiffen in surprise. “I’m just so happy to see you, Sol. That’s all that matters.”

The kiss made him freeze for a moment, his wide eyes darting to meet yours. Then, as if the realization of your closeness hit him all at once, he turned away again, his ears burning. “Y-You’re going to kill me,” he muttered, though his lips curved into a shaky smile.

But you weren’t done yet. Your mischievous streak took over, and you decided to lean into his adoration just a little more. With a playful pout, you clasped your hands behind your back and tilted your head, letting the rain streak down your face.

“You know,” you said, your voice teasing, “I could still be mad. Maybe you need to try a little harder to make me forgive you…”

Sol’s eyes snapped back to you, and for a split second, something flickered in his gaze—possessive, intense, and entirely Sol. His blush didn’t fade, but his grip on the umbrella tightened as he leaned slightly closer, his wet hair casting shadows over his face.

“What would it take, pumpkin?” he asked, his voice lower, almost velvety, as if he were daring you to push him further.

Your heart skipped a beat, but instead of backing down, you stepped closer, closing the already narrow gap between you. With a playful laugh, you brushed your fingers against his chest, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat, but instead of backing down, you stepped closer, closing the already narrow gap between you. With a playful laugh, you brushed your fingers against his chest, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“Hm… Maybe I’ll tell you if you promise not to disappear on me again,” you said coyly.

Sol’s expression softened, his gaze melting into something utterly smitten. “I promise,” he murmured, the sincerity in his voice making your chest tighten.

For a moment, the rain and the world around you disappeared again, leaving only the two of you standing there, drenched but completely lost in each other. Sol reached out, tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear, his touch featherlight. His lips parted as though to speak, but instead, he just smiled—soft, adoring, and completely yours.

The rain had slowed to a gentle drizzle by the time you and Sol began your walk home together. You clung to him, your arms looped around one of his, leaning so close your head brushed the curve of his neck. Sol stiffened for a moment, his breath hitching audibly, but he didn’t move away. If anything, he seemed to relax into your touch, a faint smile tugging at his lips despite the blush creeping up his cheeks.

You could feel his pulse quicken under your cheek, and it made your heart flutter. He liked this—you knew he did. The way his fingers tightened ever so slightly on the umbrella handle gave him away. Sol might have been soft-spoken and shy, but there was no hiding how much he adored you.

“You know…” you began, your voice playful and light as you tilted your head to glance up at him. “You’re really cute when you blush like that.”

Sol’s steps faltered, and he let out a soft, embarrassed laugh. “I-I’m not…” he murmured, his voice trailing off as he tried to glance at you but failed to meet your gaze. His blush deepened, and he looked away, biting his lip.

You leaned in closer, your cheek brushing against his damp collarbone as you smiled mischievously. “Oh, but you are,” you teased, your voice dropping to a whisper. “And I think you like when I say it.”

He didn’t deny it. Instead, he let out a shaky breath, his free hand twitching at his side as though he wanted to hold you closer but didn’t quite dare to.

The idea of pushing him further made your heart race, not out of cruelty but because you loved seeing this side of him—the side that was so completely wrapped around you, so utterly devoted and vulnerable. And if you were honest, you liked knowing just how deeply he wanted you, how much he was willing to unravel for you.

“Hey, Sol?” you said suddenly, your voice light and cheerful as though the tension from moments ago had evaporated.

“Hm?” he hummed, glancing at you with those soft, doe-like eyes, still tinted with hesitation.

“Let’s hang out at your place,” you said brightly, tugging on his arm like a child asking for a treat. “We’ve never done that before, right? And it’s only fair since you already know my house so well…”

Your grin widened at the way his eyes widened, his face going from pink to a deep crimson in an instant. He opened his mouth to say something—probably an attempt to deny or explain his little habit of keeping tabs on you—but all that came out was a soft, incoherent sound as he averted his gaze again.

You giggled, delighted by his reaction, and grabbed his hand, interlacing your fingers with his. “It’s fine, Sol,” you said, your voice teasing but reassuring. “I don’t mind. Actually, I think it’s kind of sweet.”

“Sweet?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper. His grip on your hand tightened, as though afraid you’d slip away if he didn’t hold on.

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug, swinging his hand slightly as you walked. “You care about me so much. I like that about you. You’re always thinking about me, even when I don’t know it.”

His steps slowed, and he glanced at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch. For a moment, you thought he might say something, but instead, he just smiled—a small, soft smile that held a hint of something deeper, something darker.

You felt your heart race, and the realization hit you like a jolt of electricity: you wanted this. You wanted his obsession, his unrelenting need to be near you, to protect you, to make you his. It was intoxicating, the way he looked at you like you were his entire world.

As you reached the edge of the neighborhood, you tugged on his hand again, pulling him along as you skipped ahead. “Come on, Sol! Don’t look so serious,” you said with a laugh, turning to grin at him. “I’m happy to be with you. Isn’t that enough?”

He blinked, his expression softening as his blush returned. “Y-Yeah,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s more than enough.”

But you could see it in his eyes—the unspoken promise, the depth of his feelings.

Sol wasn’t just happy to be with you; he was complete with you.

You love that about him don't you?

Maybe god loves you to keep out of your delusional thoughts.

Suddenly,

The sound of the car speeding by echoed through the street, its tires splashing through a puddle with reckless abandon. Before you could even react, mud splashed across your clothes, the brown sludge staining your uniform. A scream escaped you, frustration and annoyance bubbling up as you wiped at your drenched clothing.

"FUCK YOU, CAR DRIVER!" you shouted, your voice carrying through the rain, though your words didn’t seem to make any difference to the speeding vehicle.

You huffed, feeling a little defeated, and looked down at your ruined clothes. "Ugh, this was my main one," you muttered to yourself, trying to rub at the stains, but it was no use. Your frustration didn’t last long, though, because Sol was already by your side, his worried gaze soft and focused on you.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice surprisingly concerned, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes that made you pause.

You looked up at him, still damp from the rain and the mud, and his lips were curving into a grin that made you roll your eyes. "What now?" you snapped, shaking your arms in frustration, but it only made him laugh even more.

His laugh was soft and melodic, the kind of sound that made your heart flutter despite the annoyance you were feeling. "You're so cute when you're mad," he said, wiping a tear from his eye as he tried to suppress his laughter.

Your face heated up at his words, and before you could even stop yourself, you let out a loud, flustered kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa that was far too loud for the public setting. You nearly died from embarrassment, the sound escaping your lips before you could catch it.

But before you could even think about what was happening, you found yourself leaping at Sol, your hands cupping his face as you kissed him right in the middle of the street, the rain still coming down around you.

His surprised gasp was the only thing you heard before you melted into him, your lips moving against his with a newfound urgency. The entire world around you disappeared, and all you could think about was him—his warmth, his sweetness, the way he smelled like rain and something uniquely him.

Sol, though still caught off guard, didn't pull away. Instead, he seemed to fall into the kiss with you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer. He was blushing furiously, his hands trembling slightly as he held you against him.

"You're so cute…" he muttered between kisses, his voice strained with emotion as he kept his hands tightly on you.

You pulled away for a brief second to catch your breath, your chest heaving as you looked at him. His face was still flushed, but the joy in his eyes made your heart race.

"I can’t help it," you whispered, a little breathless from the kiss. "You're just too cute, Sol."

Sol’s smile was so soft, so genuine, and in that moment....

You both walked into his apartment, the warmth from the inside contrasted sharply with the cold, damp air clinging to your clothes. You could feel the wet fabric clinging to your skin, making you wince slightly, but your attention was focused entirely on Sol. You couldn't help but apologize for the mess you'd made. "I'm sorry about ruining your apartment," you murmured softly, trying to keep your voice light.

Sol looked at you, his expression softening, and with a little tilt of his head, he replied, "It's fine, pumpkin," his voice gentle but filled with warmth. "I’ll make some soup for you. Go take a bath and relax." He paused, clearly concerned for your well-being.

But you shook your head quickly, stubborn as ever. "No, I’m fine. I don’t need it." You huffed, folding your arms in a little pout, looking at him with a half-hearted glare.

Sol raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your refusal. "Are you sure? You’re wet, too." He glanced down at you and then his own drenched clothes, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours. "It’s not a good idea to stay like this."

You hesitated for a moment, then an idea popped into your head. Smirking mischievously, you stepped closer to him. "I’m not the only one who’s wet." You tugged at the hem of his shirt, pulling it just enough to expose the tight muscles beneath.

Sol was caught off guard, stumbling forward slightly as the shirt pulled and he nearly fell into you. His face was suddenly inches from your chest, and his breath hitched, caught in a mix of surprise and something much more heated. You held him close, your arms wrapping around him, the warmth of your body soothing the chill that still lingered on his skin.

He was so cute in that moment, face flushed and body stiff, but still allowing you to hold him. He almost whined, the softness of his voice barely a whisper as he murmured, “Y-You’re… so close…” His chest rose and fell with every shaky breath he took, clearly affected by how close you were.

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, feeling a sense of triumph as he melted into your touch. He was usually so calm, so composed, but now, he was so vulnerable. It was almost as if you held the power to break down his walls completely. The way he whimpered, the way his face flushed with embarrassment—he was so cute.

"You're so adorable, Sol," you whispered into his ear, squeezing him tighter. "I’m not going anywhere."

His eyes fluttered shut, a small, contented sigh escaping his lips. "I… I know," he murmured faintly, his voice soft but full of warmth. "You’re mine…"

You smiled softly, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

You could feel the tension between you and Sol, the air thick with an intensity that was both intoxicating and thrilling. His shyness, his hesitation—everything about him right now was exactly how you wanted him to be. The way he leaned into your touch, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his eyes sparkled with confusion and admiration—it was all so perfect. Your heart raced, your thoughts dizzying with the thought of him.

You smiled softly, your gaze locking onto his as you saw the way his pupils dilated, his breath quickening ever so slightly. There was a flicker in his eyes, something almost desperate, and that only made you want to drive him wild with even more affection. You needed to make him fall harder.

Leaning forward, you brushed your lips against his cheek softly, just a light kiss, then moved to his other cheek, and his jaw, kissing him in soft, slow motions, letting the intensity of each kiss linger. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, his pulse quickening in a way that only spurred your actions further.

His breath hitched, a tiny whimper escaping his lips as you pulled away for just a moment. His eyes were wide, pupils dilated with a mixture of longing and hesitation, and you couldn’t help but smile, the thrill of seeing him like this making your heart race.

"I think you like this, don’t you?" you whispered, teasing him as you gently cupped his face, feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingertips. You kissed him again, this time on his lips, more fervently than before. Your lips moved against his with a feverish hunger, wanting to consume every ounce of him.

He couldn’t stop himself from groaning softly into the kiss, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you even closer, his body trembling. His fingers flexed with barely contained desire, but it wasn’t just desire—it was obsession. You could see it in the way his grip tightened, in the way he held onto you like you were the only thing that mattered in this world.

Sol was obsessed—you knew it, and now he was helpless to hide it.

With every kiss you planted on his face, you felt him unravel just a little more. He was no longer the stoic, controlled man you had known. He was yours, body and soul. And you, oh, you were going to make sure he stayed that way.

His face flushed even more, his expression dazed, his eyes half-lidded with a love so deep, it almost seemed like it was suffocating him. His breathing was shallow, and his lips trembled as he tried to form words, but they only came out as a soft, desperate mumble, "Y-You’re... everything. Don’t leave me… please."

Your lips curled into a slow smile, satisfied with how easily he was slipping into your grasp. You kissed him once more, this time lingering on his lips a little longer, before pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. Those eyes—those sweet, heart-shaped eyes—were all for you. Completely for you.

“I’m not going anywhere, Sol,” you murmured against his lips. “You’re mine. And I’ll never let you go. I’ll make sure of that.”

His grip on you tightened, his heart pounding as he pulled you into a desperate kiss once more.

You smiled softly, knowing you had him right where you wanted him—lost in his obsession, lost in you. And there was no going back now.

The bathroom was warm, steam curling in the air and soft droplets of water trickling down from the walls. You sat on the edge of the tub, a towel loosely draped around your body, watching Sol as he leaned back into the shallow water. His hair clung to his forehead, his cheeks faintly pink from the heat, and his shoulders glistened with droplets. For once, the usually put-together Sol looked vulnerable, stripped bare in more ways than one.

Your eyes wandered to his neck—the spot where his choker usually rested. Without it, the faint bruises and marks stood out on his skin Body, and your heart gave a quiet lurch. They were like shadows of something darker, and while you had questions—so many questions—you held them back. Sol was complex, his past layered with secrets, and you knew better than to push. What mattered wasn’t what the bruises meant, but that they were his. They were a part of him, and you adored every piece of Sol, scars and all.

Sol shifted under your gaze, his movements subtle but telling. He had noticed you looking. His fingers flexed against the tub’s edge, his posture tightening slightly as though he were bracing himself. “What?” he murmured, his voice quiet but tinged with nervousness. “You’ve been staring.”

You tilted your head and smiled, your expression soft and reassuring. “Just admiring you,” you said simply, your tone light but warm enough to wash away any tension that might’ve been building.

He huffed, averting his eyes, his face turning red. “Admiring?” He sounded skeptical, almost incredulous. “I look like a mess.”

You stood, your towel swishing softly as you approached the tub. “You always say that,” you teased gently, kneeling beside him. “And yet, somehow, you keep being wrong.”

He didn’t reply, though you caught the way his lips twitched like he was holding back a smile. His eyes darted to yours briefly, searching, before quickly looking away again. That was just like him—always reluctant to let you see how much your words affected him.

Your gaze fell to his body again. The bruises were darker up close, scattered unevenly along his skin. Some were fading, others still there, and your heart ached at the thought of what might’ve caused them. But as much as you hated the idea of him being hurt, you refused to let it overshadow the truth: bruises or not, Sol was beautiful. Every mark on his skin, every imperfection, every flaw—they were all his.

Reaching out slowly, you let your fingertips brush against his neck, featherlight. Sol tensed immediately, his eyes snapping to yours in alarm. “What are you—”

You silenced him with a kiss, your lips pressing softly against the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t about stopping his words; it was about showing him that there was nothing to fear. Your lips moved to his cheek, then his jaw, each kiss tender and unhurried. And then, finally, you kissed his neck, right over..

Don't talk about it? It would hurt him.

Sol jolted, a sharp gasp escaping him as his hand flew up to your shoulder, not to push you away but to steady himself. His eyes were wide, his lips parted in shock, and you could feel the way his body trembled slightly under your touch. “W-What are you doing?” he whispered, his voice barely audible, shaky with something that wasn’t quite fear but wasn’t quite anything else either.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you kissed another bruise, and then another, your lips trailing softly along his neck. Each time, his reaction was the same—a quiet hitch of breath, a faint shiver, a look in his eyes that was equal parts bewildered and entranced. He didn’t stop you, though. If anything, his grip on your shoulder tightened, as if anchoring himself to you.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes met his, and you smiled. It wasn’t a teasing smile, nor was it one of pity. It was simply you, looking at him with all the warmth and love you could muster. “You’re beautiful, Sol,” you said softly, your voice steady and sincere. “Every part of you.”

His face crumpled slightly, his expression caught between disbelief and something far more vulnerable. “You... don’t care?” he asked, his voice so small it was almost a whisper.

You frowned, tilting your head. “Care about what?”

“The bruises, The-” he said, his hand moving to cover his neck instinctively. “They’re ugly, aren’t they? They make me look...”

“Human,” you finished for him, cutting off whatever self-deprecating thought was about to leave his lips. You reached out, gently prying his hand away from his neck and holding it in yours. “They make you look human. And I love that. I love you. Bruises, scars, everything. It's you Sol."

He stared at you, his eyes wide and glassy, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. Then, slowly, his lips curved into the faintest smile—a real one, not the awkward, forced grins he sometimes used to deflect. This smile was soft, genuine, and so filled with emotion that it made your chest ache.

“You’re... unbelievable,” he murmured, his voice thick with something you couldn’t quite place. He shook his head, his wet hair clinging to his forehead, and let out a soft laugh. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?” you asked, your tone playful as you leaned in closer.

“Make me fall for you all over again,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, all you could do was look at him, your chest swelling with so much love it felt like it might burst. Then, without a word, you leaned in and kissed him again, your lips moving against his with a tenderness that spoke louder than any words ever could.

Sol melted into the kiss, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly against your skin. When you finally pulled away, his eyes were hazy, his expression dazed but utterly content.

You leaned down, your breath ghosting over his skin, and kissed one softly. Sol tensed beneath you, his muscles twitching under your touch, and you smiled to yourself. He was so easy to unravel, and you loved it.

Your lips moved lower, trailing over the bruises with deliberate care, each kiss a whisper of devotion. But your movements weren’t entirely selfless—there was a dark satisfaction in watching him squirm, in hearing the soft gasps and shaky breaths he couldn’t suppress. You wanted him to need you, to crave you, to be as lost in you as you were in him.

“Y-You’re—ah—doing this on purpose,” Sol stammered, his voice trembling as his hand gripped the edge of the towel wrapped around his waist. His face was flushed, his breath uneven, and you could see the way he was struggling to hold himself together.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you kissed another bruise, just above his hip, and felt the way his body shivered in response. Your mind was swimming with thoughts—dark, possessive thoughts about how much you wanted him to belong to you entirely. Not just his body, but his mind, his heart, his soul. You wanted to consume him, to make him forget anything else existed but you.

But then, suddenly, he moved. Before you could react, Sol sat up and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. The abruptness of it snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, and for a moment, all you could do was sit there, stunned, as he buried his face against your shoulder.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice muffled but heavy with emotion. “Thank you for... accepting me.”

His words hit you like a wave, washing over the darker corners of your mind and leaving something softer in their wake. You blinked, your hands instinctively moving to rest against his back as his grip on you tightened. He was trembling slightly, and you realized that this wasn’t just a hug—it was a lifeline.

“I... I’ve always hated these,” Sol admitted, his voice quiet but raw. “The bruises, the scars... Every bruise was worth it. I thought... I thought when you see them would think I was... " His voice cracked on the last word, and you felt your chest tighten painfully.

You didn’t say anything, but your arms tightened around him, your hand moving in slow, soothing circles over his back. He sighed, the sound shaky but relieved, and pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes were glassy, his expression vulnerable in a way that made your heart ache.

“But you don’t see me like that,” he continued, his voice steadier now. “You don’t treat me like I’m... less because of them. And that means more to me than I can ever say.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and for a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You’d always known Sol had his own darkness, his own pain, but hearing it laid bare like this was almost too much. And yet, at the same time, it made you love him even more—not just the parts of him that were easy to love, but the parts that were messy and complicated and broken.

But that scared you. Because as much as you loved his obsessive side, as much as you reveled in the way he clung to you, you were terrified of falling for him completely. Fully. You weren’t sure you could handle that—weren’t sure what it would mean if you did.

Sol was watching you, his gaze searching, and you forced yourself to smile, leaning in to kiss his ear softly. The reaction was instant—he gasped, his body jerking slightly as his hands tightened on your waist. “Y-You can’t just—” he started, but his words were cut off as you kissed him again, this time lower, just below his ear.

“You’re so easy to kill with affection.” you murmured, your voice low but tinged with teasing affection. His cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, and you couldn’t help but smile.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the faint drip of water from the faucet. Then, quietly, you mumbled, “Thank you.”

Sol blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What?” he asked, his tone soft but curious.

You pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze, and smiled again. “Thank you for existing,” you said simply. And then, before he could respond, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, cutting off any words he might’ve tried to say.

Sol didn’t speak again after that. He didn’t need to. The way he held you, the way he looked at you—

The bathwater rippled softly as you guided Sol to sit down in front of you, his towel still loosely draped around his waist. He obeyed without hesitation, his long hair cascading down his back like a silken curtain. His trust in you was absolute, and it made your heart race in the quiet intimacy of the moment. The thought of him being so compliant, so willing to let you care for him, stirred something darkly possessive within you.

With a gentleness that belied the turmoil in your chest, you reached for the shampoo, pouring a generous amount into your hands before running your fingers through his damp hair. Sol sighed softly at the sensation, leaning into your touch as you worked the lather through his locks. His hair was thick and slightly tangled from the water, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you relished every second of it—each tangle you smoothed out felt like another piece of him you were unraveling, another part of him that was undeniably yours.

Your fingers massaged his scalp, his body relaxed further, his shoulders slumping slightly as a soft sigh escaped his lips. The sound was so sweet, so achingly tender, that it sent a thrill through you. You leaned forward without thinking, pressing a kiss to his forehead. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and he made a small, almost contented noise in response. It was domestic in a way you hadn’t expected, and the realization made your chest tighten.

You could feel your thoughts beginning to spiral again, the possessiveness bubbling up as you watched him sit there so obediently, so sweetly. Sol wasn’t just letting you care for him—he was surrendering to you completely, trusting you in a way that no one else ever had. And God, how you loved it. The sight of him like this, vulnerable and utterly at your mercy, made something primal and obsessive stir deep within you.

He was yours. He had to be. No one else could ever see him like this, touch him like this. You wouldn’t allow it.

“Sol,” you murmured, your voice low and husky as you continued to work the shampoo through his hair. He hummed in response, tilting his head slightly to the side as if to give you better access. The gesture was so unthinking, so natural, that it made your breath hitch.

“You’re perfect like this,” you said softly, almost to yourself. He didn’t respond, but the slight flush that crept up the back of his neck told you he’d heard. You leaned down again, pressing another kiss to the crown of his head before rinsing the shampoo out of his hair. The water ran down his back in rivulets, and you couldn’t resist trailing your fingers along the path it made, watching as his skin shivered under your touch.

“You’re spoiling me,” Sol said after a moment, his voice quiet but tinged with affection.

“You deserve it,” you replied simply, reaching for the conditioner. You poured some into your hands before running your fingers through his hair again, taking your time as you worked it in. Sol sighed softly, the sound so content and trusting that it made your chest ache.

It felt almost too good to be true, this moment with him. You’d always loved his obsessive devotion to you, the way he clung to you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. But now, sitting here with him, washing his hair and hearing the soft sounds of his breathing, you realized something terrifying: you weren’t just obsessed with him. You loved him. Fully, completely, and with a depth that scared you.

You reached for the soap, lathering it in your hands as you gestured for Sol to sit still. His body glistened with water under the soft light of the bathroom, and as you began to wash him, your fingers trailing over his shoulders, he let out a soft sigh. His head tilted slightly, his long hair cascading over one side as if to give you better access.

"Relax," you murmured, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. He obeyed immediately, his body pliant under your touch. The sight of him like this—his skin warm and damp, his eyes fluttering shut—sent a quiet thrill through you. You’d never tire of how easily he surrendered to you, how completely he trusted you.

Your hands glided down his arms, the lather spreading as you worked it over his skin. His breathing slowed, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm as if he were falling into a trance. You took your time, letting your fingers explore every curve and line of his body, as though committing it all to memory. When your hands brushed over his chest, you felt the soft hitch in his breath, the faint quiver of his muscles beneath your touch.

"Sol," you teased, your voice soft but playful. "Are you falling asleep on me?"

"N-No," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes remained closed, and a faint blush crept up his neck.

You chuckled, the sound low and intimate as your hands trailed lower, over his ribs and toward his stomach. His body shivered under your touch, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at how responsive he was to you. Sol was like putty in your hands, utterly enchanted by your touch.

But just as you let your fingers glide over the taut planes of his stomach, spreading the lather in slow, deliberate circles, his eyes shot open. The spell broke, and he blinked at you as if he’d just realized what was happening.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice tinged with both embarrassment and something softer, something deeper.

You grinned, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you leaned in closer. "What?" you asked innocently, your hands still trailing over his skin. "I’m just making sure you’re clean."

His blush deepened, spreading across his cheeks and down his neck as he averted his gaze. "Y-You’re too good at this," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

You laughed softly, the sound warm and teasing as you reached up to cup his face. "Sol," you murmured, your voice dropping into something softer, more intimate. "You’re adorable."

His eyes flicked back to yours, wide and uncertain, and for a moment, he looked so vulnerable, so utterly disarmed, that your heart skipped a beat. But then the mischievous glint returned to your eyes, and you leaned in, pressing a quick, playful kiss to the tip of his nose.

He let out a startled noise, his blush deepening even further as he stared at you, utterly flustered. "W-What was that for?" he asked, his voice high-pitched and incredulous.

You shrugged, a sly smile curling your lips as you reached for the water to rinse him off. "Just because," you replied simply.

The water cascaded over his skin, washing away the soap as your hands followed the trail of the water. He shivered again, his body instinctively leaning into your touch despite his obvious embarrassment. When you were finished, you grabbed a towel and began patting him dry, taking your time as you worked your way from his shoulders down to his arms and chest.

Sol squirmed slightly under your touch, his blush still burning brightly as he mumbled, "You’re treating me like a kid."

You grinned, tilting your head to the side as you looked at him. "Oh? Is that so?" you teased, patting his cheeks with the towel.

"Stop!" he protested, his voice flustered as he tried to swat your hands away.

But you didn’t stop. Instead, you leaned in closer, your smile turning downright mischievous as you patted his face even more, the towel brushing against his warm, flushed skin. "You’re too cute when you’re embarrassed, Sol," you said, your voice full of teasing affection.

He groaned, burying his face in his hands as he mumbled, "You’re impossible."

You laughed, the sound light and genuine as you ruffled his hair with the towel. "And you’re spoiled," you shot back, your tone playful but fond.

When you finally pulled back, letting him breathe, you noticed how he avoided your gaze, his blush still firmly in place. He looked so sweet, so utterly flustered, that you couldn’t resist leaning in one last time, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

The air was warm after the bath, the scent of lavender soap lingering as Sol wrapped a towel around himself and turned toward you. His damp hair clung to his neck and shoulders, his expression soft as he stepped closer and, without warning, pulled you into a hug. The embrace was firm, grounding, and for a moment, you melted into his arms.

Before you could do anything more—tease him, pull him closer, or whisper something playful—he scooped you up and dropped you gently onto the bed. Your body bounced slightly against the mattress, and you looked up at him, smirking.

"You’re bold," you teased, reaching for him instinctively. Your hands brushed his wrist as you tried to tug him down toward you, but he hesitated, stepping back. The way his ears turned red betrayed him, though.

You sighed softly, letting your hands fall to your sides. "Alright, alright," you murmured, slipping off the bed and heading to grab some clothes. You rifled through the pile of garments he had stolen—or rather, borrowed—during his… more obsessive days, you found a hoodie of yours that you recognized instantly. It was one of your favorites, worn and soft, and it smelled faintly of detergent and something uniquely Sol.

It was obvious he had cleaned it meticulously, almost reverently. That thought alone sent a small shiver through you as you pulled it over your head. It hung loose and comfortable, perfectly worn in. You smiled, shaking your head softly. Of course, he’d take care of it so well. Sol, with all his odd little habits and quirks, always had a way of surprising you.

Beneath the hoodie, you slipped into your undergarments, feeling comfortable enough in the privacy of his room. Though you spotted pants folded neatly nearby, you ignored them. You were decent enough, and the hoodie covered what it needed to.

The room was cozy, his scent mingling with the fresh linen and faint hints of candle wax. You flopped onto the bed, burying your face in his pillow. It smelled so much like him that it made your chest tighten in a way you weren’t prepared for. Your arms curled around it instinctively, hugging it close as you let yourself relax.

Sol excused himself to dress, leaving you momentarily alone. Your eyes wandered, they landed on the walls. Among the minimalist decorations were posters of classic horror stories—The Headless Horseman and a strikingly eerie illustration inspired by the Grimm brothers' fairy tales.

You smiled softly. Of course, Sol would have a taste for horror fiction. There was something so fitting about it, considering how quiet and unassuming he could be, yet with that darker edge lurking beneath his calm demeanor. You liked it. More than that, you liked that it was such a unique part of him.

When Sol returned, his hair still damp but neatly combed, his gaze immediately darted toward you. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of you sprawled on his bed, his pillow hugged tightly to your chest, wearing his hoodie.

"Uh… I-I can make some soup," he stammered, his voice awkward and shy. His eyes flicked away from you as though looking directly at you was too much. "If… you want something warm."

You propped yourself up on your elbow, grinning mischievously. "That sounds nice," you replied, your voice light. Then, you noticed his gaze drop briefly before he looked away again, his blush deepening.

"If you need pants, I… I could give you a pair," he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

You laughed softly, sitting up and adjusting the hoodie. "I’ve got undergarments on," you said, winking at him. "I’m not naked, Sol."

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as though trying to compose himself. "You’re impossible," he muttered, but his lips curved into the faintest of smiles.

Instead of heading for the kitchen, he sat down beside you on the bed, his shoulders tense. His gaze flicked to the posters on the wall as if trying to avoid meeting your eyes.

"You seem tired," he said softly, his voice quieter now.

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before deciding to ask. "The posters," you said, nodding toward the wall. "You like horror fiction?"

He froze slightly, his lips parting as though he wasn’t sure how to respond. Then, with a soft sigh, he nodded. "Yeah. It’s… something I’ve always liked," he admitted.

You smiled, leaning against the headboard. "I already knew," you said casually, your tone light.

His head snapped toward you, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and apprehension.

"Don’t worry," you continued, your voice calm and reassuring. "I’ve stalked you too, Sol."

"Oh, I keep..."

You shifted closer to him, your smile softening. "I still can’t believe we’re together," you said quietly, almost as if speaking the words to yourself. "It feels… like a dream."

Sol’s gaze flicked toward you, his expression unreadable for a moment before he looked away, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. But then, he smiled—a small, shy smile that made your heart ache.

Without thinking, you reached for him, pulling him into a hug. His head rested against your chest, and you let your fingers trail through his damp hair.

"You’re too sweet," you murmured, your voice teasing but filled with affection.

He didn’t say anything, but the way he melted into your embrace told you everything you needed to know.

You began to toy with his hair, gathering it into your hands and tying it into a loose ponytail. The strands were silky and soft between your fingers, and you couldn’t resist brushing them aside to press a kiss to his forehead.

"Why do you like me?" he asked suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were silent, your hands stilling in his hair. Then, you smiled, your lips curving into something soft and tender.

"It doesn’t matter," you said simply, leaning down to press another kiss to his forehead.

He looked up at you, his eyes wide and searching, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he smiled.

Sol settled against you, the closeness between you became almost unbearable. His head rested on your chest, the soft rise and fall of your breathing syncing as though you were two halves of a whole. Slowly, his hand reached out, brushing against yours tentatively at first, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed this level of intimacy.

But when your fingers curled instinctively around his, his hesitation melted. His hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing softly against your knuckles in a silent reassurance. His warmth radiated into you, and you couldn’t help but sigh softly.

Then, without a word, he shifted slightly. His legs intertwined with yours, his movements slow and careful as if testing the waters. The heat of his skin against yours sent a shiver up your spine, and you had to bite your lip to keep from making a sound.

"Sol," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He looked up at you, his eyes soft yet intense, his expression unreadable. His head tilted slightly, and before you could say anything else, he leaned closer. His forehead rested against yours, his damp hair falling slightly over his face.

The way he looked at you, so full of quiet devotion, made your heart race. Your breaths mingled, and the air between you felt thick with something unspoken.

"Is this okay?" he murmured, his voice so soft it was almost a breath.

You didn’t trust your voice, so you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as you let yourself sink into the moment.

His hand tightened slightly around yours, and his leg shifted, pressing more firmly against yours. The closeness was overwhelming, intoxicating, and you couldn’t help the soft noise that escaped your lips—a quiet, almost inaudible moan that you couldn’t suppress.

Sol froze for a moment, his eyes wide as he pulled back slightly to look at you. His face was flushed, his lips parted in surprise.

"Did you just—?" he began, his voice tinged with both surprise and embarrassment.

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you quickly averted your gaze, trying to brush it off. "Don’t get too cocky," you muttered, your voice laced with playful annoyance.

But he didn’t let it go. A small, mischievous smile tugged at his lips, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Was that because of me?"

"What was that sound?" he asked softly, as if he wasn’t sure whether it was intentional or not, but he was enjoying the effect it had on you.

Your heart raced, and you almost cursed yourself for how easily he could reduce you to a mess of emotions. You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, but it was becoming harder by the second.

His hand slid down to your neck, gently pressing against the sensitive skin there. His thumb stroked over your pulse point, and you couldn’t hold back the soft gasp that escaped your lips.

Sol's eyes widened slightly as your breath hitched, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "Is that… making you nervous?" he asked, voice dripping with mischief.

You turned your head to the side, avoiding his gaze, but his fingers remained on your neck, steadying you. You felt the tension between you, the way his presence seemed to wrap around you like a gentle, but inescapable, force.

His chuckle rumbled softly in his chest, and you could feel it against your skin as he leaned in once more. "You’re cute when you try to hide it," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

Another involuntary noise slipped from your lips—a soft whimper that you couldn’t control.

Sol’s smirk deepened, and he pulled back just enough to catch your eye. "So sensitive," he murmured, almost like a revelation. "I didn’t think I’d get you this flustered so easily."

Your face flushed with embarrassment, but you couldn’t find it in you to pull away from him. You were stuck in a whirlwind of emotions, of desires you didn’t want to face. It was so easy for him to turn your insides into a tangled mess with just a few touches, a few words.

He leaned in again, pressing a soft kiss to your ear, then your jaw, trailing down to your neck. Each kiss was slow, deliberate, and it made your heart beat faster. With every movement, he pushed you closer to the edge of restraint, knowing just how far to go before pulling back.

"You’re making it hard for me to resist," he whispered, his voice low and filled with longing. "But I think you like this, don’t you?"

"Sol…" you breathed, and you couldn’t help but sound desperate. You hated how easily he had you on the edge, how quickly he could make you lose control of yourself.

He smiled softly, sensing the change in your tone. "You’re mine," he said, his voice just above a whisper, but it felt like a declaration. His words wrapped around you, and the possessiveness in his voice made your heart race even more.

You couldn’t find words, couldn’t fight the overwhelming desire that was building between you both. You could feel his pulse quicken, his breath becoming more erratic, and you knew that you were both slipping further into something you couldn’t pull back from.

Sol’s hand slid down your back, pulling you closer once more. You gasped, the closeness of your bodies making everything feel more intense, more urgent. You could feel his lips on your skin again, each kiss deeper than the last.

Sol's fingers danced along your spine, sending tingles through your body with each light caress. He leaned in close, his warm breath ghosting over your ear as he whispered, "I'm going to make you feel so good, Pumpkin."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you let out a soft moan, arching into his touch. Sol chuckled, the vibrations causing your sensitive skin to prickle with delight. "Like that, huh?" he teased, nipping playfully at your earlobe.

His other hand came up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards his. Your lips met in a slow, sensual kiss, tongues dancing together in a heated dance. Sol's hands roamed your body, tracing the curves of your hips and thighs before sliding up under your hoodie to explore the smooth expanse of your stomach.

"Ah-"

Sol's fingers trailed lower, dipping beneath the hem of your skirt to brush against the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. He smiled against your mouth, feeling your muscles tense in anticipation. "Patience, my dear," he cooed, his breath hot against your skin.

Slowly, deliberately, his hand crept higher, until his fingertips grazed the damp fabric of your panties. You cried out, your hips jerking involuntarily as electric pleasure zapped through you. Sol's eyes darkened with lust at the sound of your desperation, and he pressed a final, teasing kiss to your lips before pulling back.

"Shh, relax," he soothed, his voice low and husky. "Let me take care of you." With a deft motion, he teases your sex, baring you completely to his hungry gaze.

Sol's eyes gleamed with wicked intent as He raked over your exposed sex, drinking in the sight of your exposed..... Without warning, He dipped between your thighs, spreading you open further for their exploration.

"Ahhh!" you gasped, back arching off the bed as their skilled fingers found your most sensitive spots. They stroke? circled? applying just the right amount of pressure to send waves of ecstasy crashing through you.

Sol's free hand slid up your body to palm one of your chest, rolling the nipple between his fingers as they continued their relentless assault on your clit. The dual sensations were almost too much to bear, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of a precipice, desperate for release.

"You're so responsive," Sol murmured, their voice a husky growl of approval. "I can't wait to see you come undone."

Sol groaned, his fingers faltering in their delicious torment of your clit as you suddenly turned the tables, your small hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him down into a searing kiss. Your tongue dueled with theirs, a playful dominance asserting itself even as your laughter bubbled up from within you.

When you finally broke the kiss, panting and grinning up at Sol, there was a mischievous glint in your eye. "Did you have fun, hmm?" you teased, your fingers trailing down his chest to wrap around the thick length of his erection. Sol's breath hitched, his hips bucking instinctively into your touch.

"Oh, I think it's time we even the score," you giggled, giving his cock a squeeze that made him grunt. Your hands moved with frantic energy, stroking and twisting, exploring every inch of his heated flesh.

Sol's eyes rolled back in bliss as your skilled hands worked their magic, coaxing his member to full, throbbing hardness. Each stroke sent jolts of electric pleasure coursing through his veins, making him tremble with anticipation.

Your fingers danced along the sensitive underside, teasing the frenulum until it twitched beneath your touch. Then, with a wicked grin, you wrapped your thumb around the head, applying just the right amount of pressure to make him see stars. Sol's hips jerked erratically, seeking more of your tantalizing friction.

Lost in the haze of lust, he tangled his fingers in your hair, tugging gently as he guided your mouth closer to his aching cock. "Please," he begged, his voice husky with need. "I want to feel those sweet lips around me."

Despite Sol's pleas, you continued to deny him direct contact, instead focusing on tormenting his neck with tender bites and languid kisses. His whimpering only seemed to encourage you, fueling the fire burning within.

With a particularly sharp nip to his jugular, you murmured against his skin, "Not yet, my love. We're going to take this nice and slow." Your hot breath ghosted over his pulse point, causing it to race further out of control.

Sol's body tensed, straining for release even as he knew it was futile. The combination of your teasing touch and maddening kisses had him teetering on the edge, desperate for more. But you remained resolute, determined to draw out his pleasure until he was writhing in ecstasy.

Sol's breath came in ragged gasps as you toyed with him, your fingers tracing patterns along the shaft of his cock while your lips left a trail of love bites across his throat. Each delicate touch and nip sent shockwaves of desire rippling through him, threatening to shatter his composure.

"Please, Pumpkin," he whimpered, his voice cracking with desperation. "I can't… I need…"

But you simply chuckled, the vibrations humming against his skin as you peppered his neck with open-mouthed kisses. Your hand slid lower, cupping the heavy weight of his balls and rolling them gently between your fingers.

Sol's knees nearly buckled at the sensation, his mind clouding with pleasure.

Sol's body shook like a leaf in a storm as you expertly manipulated his most sensitive areas. The gentle caress of your fingers against his testicles sent waves of euphoria crashing over him, each passing second drawing him closer to the brink of climax.

"Y/n…" he groaned, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close… Don't stop, please…"

Despite his urgent pleas, you continued to tease and torment him, refusing to grant him the release he so desperately craved. Your fingers tightened around his balls, applying just the right amount of pressure to keep him hovering on the precipice of orgasm.

Sol's hips bucked wildly, seeking friction anywhere he could get it. His cock throbbed in your grasp, the head a deep, pulsating purple as it strained towards your palm.

With a sudden, decisive movement, you pulled your hand away from Sol's aching cock, leaving him bereft and shaking with unfulfilled need. He let out a strangled cry, his body arching off the bed as if trying to follow the path of your retreating fingers.

"No, wait!" Sol pleaded, his voice raw with desperation. "Don't stop now, please!"

But you merely smiled enigmatically, your gaze locked onto his tortured expression. Slowly, deliberately, you began to remove your clothes, revealing inch after inch of creamy, unblemished skin.

Sol's eyes widened, drinking in the sight of your naked form. His gaze lingered, the gentle curve of your waist, and the tantalizing hint of your sex peeking out from between your thighs.

Sol watched, transfixed, you slipped out of your remaining garments, leaving yourself bare and beautiful before him. His breath caught in his throat at the breathtaking sight, and he couldn't help but drool slightly in anticipation.

But instead of closing the distance and indulging in the carnal delights offered, you suddenly adopted a playful, domineering tone. "Now, pet, it's time for your punishment," you declared, a wicked gleam in your eye.

Without warning, you grasped Sol's wrists and pinned them above his head, holding him in place with an iron grip. "Be a good boy and accept what's coming to you," you cooed, your voice dripping with mock sweetness.

Leaning in close, you whispered hotly against his ear, "Good boy, Sol. Such a naughty, needy little pup, aren't you?"

Sol's eyes widened in confusion and frustration as you giggled, the sound like music to his ears despite the torment you were inflicting upon him. "What…what are you doing?" he stammered, his chest heaving with exertion.

Just as he thought you might finally give in to his desperate needs, you leaned down and wrapped your fingers around his throbbing cock once more. Sol's back arched off the bed, a guttural moan escaping his lips as your warm touch enveloped him.

But then, you spoke, your voice low and commanding. "Remember, pet, you're not allowed to cum. Not until I say so."

Sol's mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the twisted game you were playing. His body, however, responded instinctively, already tensing and preparing for the inevitable release.

Sol's world tilted on its axis as your plush lips closed around the head of his cock, your tongue darting out to lick the sensitive underside. He cried out, his fingers digging into the sheets as he fought the urge to thrust deeper into the heavenly warmth of your mouth.

"P-pumpkin, oh god, yes!" he gasped, his voice a hoarse whisper. "More, please, I need…"

But even as the plea left his lips, you pulled back, denying him the intense pleasure he so desperately craved. Your lips hovered just inches from his aching flesh, and you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Not yet, pet," you purred, your breath ghosting over his sensitive tip. "We're going to take this slow and savor every moment."

With a sly smile, you resumed your sensual assault on Sol's cock, lavishing attention on the throbbing length with your lips, tongue, and teeth. Each kiss, each lap of your tongue, sent jolts of electricity coursing through his veins, driving him closer to the edge.

Your hands roamed his body, exploring every contour and crevice with a hungry curiosity. Fingers danced across his nipples, tweaking and tugging until they pebbled beneath your touch. Lower still, you traced the lines of his abs, dipping into his navel before continuing downward to tease the sensitive skin behind his balls.

Sol's moans grew louder, more desperate, as you worked him over with skillful precision. His hips bucked reflexively, seeking more of your tantalizing touches, but you held firm, maintaining control over the pace of his pleasure.

"Please, Y/n, I can't… It's too much," he begged, his voice breaking on a sob. "Hurry, make me cum, I need it so badly!"

Sol's entire being was consumed by the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. His muscles clenched and released in rhythmic spasms, searching for purchase as his mind fogged with lust. Whimpers and gasps spilled from his lips, punctuating the air with his desperate need for release.

Despite his impassioned pleas, you continued your deliberate, torturous pace. Your mouth slid up and down his shaft, coating it in saliva as you hummed a seductive melody against his sensitive skin. Meanwhile, your fingers pressed insistently against his virgin hole, coaxing it open ever so slightly.

Sol's vision blurred, his senses overwhelmed by the dual stimuli.

Just as Sol was about to surrender to the impending orgasm, you abruptly ceased all contact, leaving him aching and empty. He whined in protest, his hips jerking erratically as he struggled to process the sudden withdrawal of pleasure.

"No, no, no!" you chided gently, your voice a soothing balm amidst the turmoil. "Not yet, my love. We have to hold it for me, okay?"

Sol's gaze snapped to yours, desperation etched across his features. "But why?...." he asked, his words slurring together in his haste to understand.

You reached out, cupping his cheek tenderly. "Because I want to see how far we can push ourselves, darling. How deep our love can go when we're willing to explore the darkest, most forbidden corners of desire."

With a sultry smirk, you returned to worshipping Sol's cock, your lips sealing around the swollen head once more. He groaned, his fingers tangling in your hair as you began to suckle him with renewed vigor.

Your tongue swirled around the sensitive crown, lapping up the precum that had begun to leak in response to your teasing. The taste of his arousal filled your mouth, a heady elixir that only served to heighten your own desire.

You bobbed your head along his length, your free hand resumed its exploration of Sol's body. Fingers trailed down his stomach, circling his navel before delving lower to stroke the delicate skin behind his testicles.

Sol's thighs trembled, his legs falling open wider in invitation.

Sol's body was a living, breathing flame, every inch of him burning with need as you continued to worship his cock with your skilled mouth. Your lips and tongue worked in perfect harmony, drawing out moans and whimpers of pure bliss from his tortured soul.

The sensation of your fingers dancing across his skin, tracing patterns of pleasure, only added fuel to the inferno raging within him. His hips rocked involuntarily, seeking more of your tantalizing touch, even as he struggled to maintain control over his rapidly unraveling composure.

"fuck, your mouth feels incredible," Sol gasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his climax. "I don't know how much longer I can… Ahh, god, yes, just like that!"

Sol's cries of pleasure echoed through the room, a symphony of desperation and need. His body shook like a leaf, every muscle tensed and coiled as he teetered on the precipice of ecstasy. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, his vision blurring with the intensity of his emotions.

"Oh, please, I can't… I'm going to…!" he wailed, his voice high-pitched and trembling. The pitiful sounds of his sobs and whimpers mingled with the wet slap of your lips on his cock, creating a perverse harmony of lust and anguish.

"Now, Sol, give it to me," you commanded softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "Cum for me, my love."

At your words, Sol's control shattered. With a hoarse cry, he exploded, his hot seed spurting into your eagerly waiting mouth. You swallowed every drop, relishing the salty-sweet taste of his release as it coated your tongue.

Sol's orgasm subsided, you released his softening cock from your lips with a gentle pop. A shiver ran through you at the sight of his spent form, his chest heaving with exertion. Almost imperceptibly, a whimper escaped your own lips, a sound of raw, unbridled desire that seemed to come from the very depths of your being.

Sol stared at you in awe, his glazed eyes drinking in the sight of your cum-streaked lips and flushed cheeks. A soft, dazed murmur escaped his lips as he tried to process the intensity of what had just transpired between you.

"That was… incredible," he breathed, his voice shaky and laced with wonder. "Seeing you take my cum like that, smiling at me with your mouth still full of it…"

He trailed off, his gaze fixating on your tongue as it lazily licked across your lower lip, cleaning away the remnants of his essence. The erotic display sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through Sol's veins, leaving him feeling weak and utterly spent.

His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the bed, his body limp and pliant beneath the covers.

Sol lay there, lost in the aftermath of his intense climax, you crawled onto the bed beside him, your movements slow and sensual. You leaned in close, your warm breath ghosting across his skin as you whispered huskily in his ear.

Your hand drifted down his torso, tracing the contours of his abdomen before dipping lower to brush against the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. Sol's eyelids fluttered shut, a soft sigh escaping his parted lips as he surrendered to your touch.

Sol's senses were overwhelmed by the intoxicating aroma of your skin, the scent of your very essence enveloping him like a comforting embrace. It was a fragrance unlike anything else, a unique blend that spoke directly to his soul, igniting a primal hunger within him.

His nostrils flared, drawing in deeper breaths as he inhaled the heady musk. It was a smell that made his heart race, his pulse pound, and his loins throb with desperate need. This was the scent of his soulmate, the one thing capable of reducing him to a panting, whimpering mess.

Sol groaned, his voice thick with lust. "Your smell is driving me crazy. I need to bury my face in you, to lose myself in it forever."

With a wicked grin, you pressed closer, allowing Sol to breathe in your scent more deeply. His hands instinctively reached for you, eager to pull you flush against his heated body, but you deftly evaded his grasp, trailing your fingers along his skin instead.

In an instant, you found yourself on your back, Sol looming above you with a triumphant glint in his eye. His hands pinned your wrists to the mattress, holding you in place as he towered over your prone form.

"What did you expect, Ame?" he growled, his voice low and menacing. "After the way you tormented me today, leaving me a sobbing, cum-drunk mess, you thought you could escape retribution?"

Sol's free hand slid down your stomach, his fingers tracing the curve of your hip before dipping lower, seeking the heat between your thighs. You shivered, a gasp escaping your lips his touch sending jolts of electricity through your nervous system.

"You deserve this, every tease and taunt coming back tenfold,"

Your eyes widened in shock. You squirmed beneath him, trying to wriggle free from his grip, but he held fast, his gaze burning into yours with a fierce intensity.

"No, wait!" you stammered, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and arousal. "I didn't mean it like that, I swear! I just…got carried away, okay? It wasn't supposed to lead to this!"

Sol's expression softened slightly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he listened to your frantic protests. He released your wrists, allowing you to move, but only to slide his hand further up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher in the process.

"Oh, I think it's exactly what you wanted," he countered, his tone gentle yet persuasive.

"Don't try to deny it, Pumpkin," Sol murmured, his fingers brushing against the damp lace of your panties. "Your body's reaction tells a different story. You're just as desperate for this as I am."

Without waiting for a response, Sol leaned down, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive flesh as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh. Each tender touch sent sparks racing up your spine, leaving you quivering and aching for more.

"Sol…" you whimpered, your hips bucking involuntarily as his warm breath ghosted over your most intimate area. The sudden onslaught of sensations had your mind reeling, thoughts scattering like leaves in a storm.

"It's not fair, I swear!" you managed to gasp out between moans, even as your body betrayed your words, arching into Sol's ministrations. "We were just…playing around, having fun! This isn't part of the game!"

Despite your protests, your fingers threaded through Sol's hair, urging him closer, silently begging for more of that exquisite torture. The conflicting emotions warring within you - guilt, excitement, need - created a dizzying cocktail that left you breathless and helpless beneath his skilled touch.

Sol chuckled darkly, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine as he continued his sensual assault. "Oh, but it feels so good, doesn't it?" he purred, his tongue darting out to taste your essence, savoring the tangy sweetness of your arousal.

You cried out, your back bowing off the bed as Sol worked you open, claiming you as his own.

"That's it, " he coaxed, his voice a seductive rumble. "Let me in, let me make you mine."

You felt your mind clouding, thoughts fragmenting into nothingness. All that remained was the intense pleasure coursing through your veins, the overwhelming urge to surrender completely to the man dominating your body.

"Y-yes, Sol, please," you begged, your voice barely recognizable, consumed by a possessive fervor. "Make me yours, fill me up, mark me as your own!"

In your haze, you couldn't bear the thought of anyone else experiencing Sol's touch, his passion. The very idea sent a surge of jealous rage through your bloodstream, fueling your desperation to claim him just as fiercely.

"I'm yours, only yours," you declared, your nails raking down Sol's back as you pulled him closer, crushing your mouth to his in a bruising kiss.

Sol groaned into the kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth with wild abandon as he drove his fingers deeper, hitting that sweet spot within you that made stars explode behind your eyelids. Your body convulsed, a scream tearing from your throat as the first wave of your climax crashed over you.

But Sol wasn't done yet. He withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching, before replacing them with his thick cock. With a single powerful thrust, he buried himself to your aching hole, stretching you wide around his girth.

"Ahhh fuck, you feel incredible," he rasped, his hips beginning to piston in and out at a relentless pace. "So tight, so perfect. Mine."

he pounded into you, Sol's hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, marking you as his territory.

"Please, Sol, harder!" you pleaded, your voice ragged with desire and something deeper, more primal. "Fill me up, make me yours forever!"

With a guttural growl, Sol obliged, his thrusts becoming brutal and unrelenting as he chased his own release. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, punctuated by your cries of ecstasy.

Just as Sol's movements became erratic, signaling his impending climax, he paused, his cock still buried deep within you. He cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his intense gaze.

You were lost in the throes of passion, your body writhing beneath Sol's, when his movements suddenly halted. Confused, you opened your eyes to find him staring intently at you, his piercing gaze searching your features.

"Y/n.." he prompted, his voice low and urgent. "Will we make a good family, together always?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with meaning, until the shrill ring of a phone shattered the moment. Sol cursed under his breath, pulling out of you and reaching for the device on the nightstand.

You watched, bewildered, as he answered the call, his expression darkening with each passing second. His jaw clenched, and a vein pulsed in his temple, betraying his growing anger.

"Who is it?" you finally managed to ask, though you already suspected the answer based on Sol's reaction.

Sol ended the call abruptly, tossing the phone aside with a snarl. He turned to you, his eyes blazing with a fierce, possessive light.

"Crowe," he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "Thinks he can just call here, now? After everything? Didn't you stop talking to him? Why is he bothering you..?"

Before you could respond, Sol's lips crashed against your neck, biting down hard enough to draw blood. You gasped, a mix of pain and pleasure coursing through you as he claimed you once more.

Sol's jealousy was palpable, a living thing that wrapped around you both, squeezing tight. In that moment, you reveled in it, in the knowledge that Crowe's interference had sparked such a raw, primal reaction in your lover.

"You're mine," Sol growled against your skin, his teeth scraping lightly over the wound he'd inflicted.

Sol's grip on your waist tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he held you close, his hot breath fanning over your ear. "He thinks he can have you, after all this time? After everything I've done for you?"

His voice was a low, menacing purr, laced with dark promise. You could practically feel the obsessive hunger radiating off him, the sheer intensity of his desire to keep you, to possess you utterly.

"Hmmm? Only you of course! But you're jealous thats so cute!!"

Sol's eyes flashed with a dangerous light at your teasing words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He captured your mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue invading, staking his claim.

When he broke away, his lips curled into a smirk, a hint of fang visible. "Cute? You think my jealousy is cute?"

His hand slid up your ribcage, fingers closing around your throat in a gentle but unmistakable grasp. "I'll show you cute," he purred, leaning in close. "I'll worship every inch of you, until you're begging me to stop."

Sol's breath washed over your face, You felt yourself melting into his touch, your body responding eagerly to his dark promises.

Sol cupped your cheeks, but his eyes never left yours, burning with an intensity that made your heart race. "You want my obsession," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "You want to be consumed by it, to feel like you're the only thing that matters in this world?"

Without waiting for a response, he captured your lips again, kissing you with a ferocity that stole your breath. His hands roamed your body, touching you everywhere at once, claiming every curve and contour as his own.

Sol's teeth scraped against your bottom lip, tugging gently before soothing the sting with his tongue. He explored your mouth with renewed urgency, as if trying to map every inch of you, to memorize the taste and feel of you.

Breaking the kiss, Sol pressed his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged.

Sol's eyes gleamed with a manic intensity, a crazed devotion that sent shivers down your spine. He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours as he spoke in a fervent whisper.

"I love you, I love you so much it hurts. Every breath I take is for you, every heartbeat, every thought." His hands framed your face, thumbs stroking your cheekbones with a tender reverence that belied the wildness in his gaze.

"You're my everything, my reason for existing. Without you, there's nothing. No purpose, no joy, no life." Sol's voice cracked, emotion raw and exposed. "I'd do anything for you, kill anyone who tries to take you from me and I'm yours, forever and always."

Sol's declaration hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his all-consuming love. He pulled back slightly, his fingers trailing down your neck, leaving a path of tingling heat in their wake.

With that, Sol's mouth descended upon yours once more, kissing you with a desperate hunger. His hands roamed your body, kneading your flesh, claiming you as his own.

Sol's gaze drifted down to your exposed neck, his eyes darkening with primal desire. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his teeth grazing the tender skin before sinking in just enough to leave a mark. A claim, a brand, a promise of possession.

He repeated this ritual along your collarbone and shoulder, each nip and suckle punctuating his devotion. Your skin prickled with goosebumps, a mix of pleasure and trepidation as you felt his love etched into your flesh.

Finally, Sol's attention turned to your inner thigh, his mouth seeking out the delicate skin just above your knee. He nuzzled and kissed the area, his tongue darting out to taste the saltiness of your sweat before closing his lips around the tender flesh and sucking gently.

Before you could react, Sol shifted positions, pinning you beneath him. He ground his hips against yours, the thick length of his cock...

Without warning, he pushed forward, breaching your tight entrance with a single, forceful thrust. You cried out, shocked by the sudden intrusion, your body struggling to accommodate his girth.

Sol didn't pause, not even for a moment. He began to move, his powerful thrusts driving him deeper into your willing depths. The burn was intense, but you welcomed it, reveling in the feeling of being so thoroughly possessed.

"Fuck, You feel so good"

"Sol, you keep teasing me- This isn't fair.." you wailed, tears of pleasure streaming down your face as Sol continued to pound into you with ruthless abandon. Each brutal thrust sent shockwaves of ecstasy through your body, your walls clenching around his invading length.

Despite your protests, you couldn't deny the intense arousal building within you. Your moans grew louder, more wanton, as your body surrendered to the overwhelming sensations.

Sol's hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he drove himself deeper, chasing his release. "Fair? Life isn't fair, Ame," he panted, his breath hot against your ear. "But I'll make you mine, completely, irrevocably. And you'll love every minute of it."

His words ignited a fire within you

Sol's thrusts grew more erratic, his hips snapping forward with a primal urgency as he chased his impending orgasm.

With a guttural roar, he buried himself to the hilt, his seed erupting deep within your quivering passage. The sensation of him filling you, marking you as his, sent you spiraling further into rapture.

Sol quickly adjusted your position, flipping you onto your stomach and pulling your hips back to present yourself to him. He settled between your spread thighs, the head of his still-hard cock nudging insistently at your dripping entrance.

Without preamble, he surged forward, burying himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. A low groan escaped him as he savored the tight heat enveloping his length, your inner walls clinging to him like a velvet vice.

He began to move, his thrusts deep and deliberate, each stroke driving him impossibly farther into your core. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air, punctuated by your muffled moans and gasps.

Sol's hands roamed your back, fingernails digging into your flesh as he claimed you, owning every inch of you.

With a gentleness that contrasted with his earlier passion, Sol's movements became languid and measured. He savoring each slide of his engorged length within your welcoming warmth, relishing the way your slick channel adapted to his shape.

He rocked slowly into you, Sol's fingertips traced tantalizing patterns along your spine, sending shivers down your nerves. His breath tickled your ear, his murmurs of affection weaving a spell of tranquility around you.

"Don't tense up," he cooed, his tone soothing. "Just relax and let me in. I promise I'll take care of you, make it good for you."

His hips undulated in a sensual rhythm, the subtle grind of his pelvis against your buttocks sparking pleasant friction.

With a final, brutal thrust, Sol buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he released a torrent of hot semen deep inside you. Your body clenched around him, milking his shaft for every last drop as you both trembled on the brink of ecstasy.

Sol pulled out of you with a wet squelch, his spent cock glistening with your combined fluids. He turned you over, his hands roaming your curves possessively as he positioned himself between your thighs once more.

"Again," he growled, his eyes blazing with unquenchable hunger. "I won't stop until you're screaming my name and begging for mercy."

With that, he plunged back into your waiting heat, his renewed erection stretching you open once more. Your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back as you met his thrusts with equal fervor.

"Ahhh, yes!" you cried out, your nails digging into Sol's shoulders as he pounded into you with unrelenting ferocity. "Harder, Sol, please!"

A high-pitched keen tore from your throat as Sol's precise aim sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your entire being. Your inner walls fluttered and clenched around his pistoning cock, trying desperately to draw him in deeper.

Sol's response was to redouble his efforts, fucking you with a wild abandon that bordered on feral. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your wanton moans created a filthy cacophony that only served to spur him on.

With a final, earth-shattering thrust, Sol buried himself to the hilt, his cock throbbing violently as he emptied himself inside you once more.

With a playful smirk, you reached up to toy with the delicate silver studs piercing Sol's nipples. Your fingers danced across the metal, tracing the ridges and points, sending sparks of pleasure shooting straight to his already sensitive cock.

"Mmm, do you like that?" you purred, your breath hot against his chest as you leaned in close. "Feeling my touch on your pretty piercings?"

Sol let out a low groan, his hips bucking involuntarily as your teasing fingers sent jolts of electricity coursing through his body. "Pumpkin-," he gasped, his voice thick with need. "Keep doing that and I might just come again."

Sol's eyes rolled back, a guttural moan escaping his lips as you continued to torment his sensitive nipples with your clever fingers. The combination of your touch and the gentle tugging on the piercings proved to be his undoing.

"I can't…fuck, I'm gonna…" he warned, his words trailing off into a strangled cry as his orgasm hit him like a freight train.

His cock jerked and spasmed, painting your stomach with streaks of hot cum as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over him. You watched, mesmerized, as Sol came undone in your arms, his body shaking with the force of his release.

When the aftershocks finally subsided, Sol collapsed against you, his chest heaving with ragged breaths. "That was…incredible,"

.........After some time.

The aftermath of your shared intimacy left Sol visibly glowing, his cheeks tinted with a gentle pink hue that added to his already endearing expression. He nestled his face into the crook of your neck, sighing contentedly as his arms looped tightly around you. His touch was firm yet tender, a silent plea to stay close.

"You're so good to me," he murmured against your skin, his voice soft and dripping with affection.

You smiled, your fingers gently threading through his damp hair, brushing away any lingering strands clinging to his forehead. His vulnerability in moments like this was a stark contrast to the teasing and reserved Sol you’d come to adore. Here, he was open, raw, and so utterly lovable it made your chest ache.

“I love you like this, Sol,” you whispered, pressing a feather-light kiss to his temple. His arms tightened slightly around you in response, and you could feel his heart racing against yours.

Still wrapped in his warmth, you coaxed him to lay back, sitting beside him on the bed. “Let me take care of you,” you offered with a mischievous smile that made his blush deepen. He tried to glance away, but you caught his face gently, guiding his gaze back to yours.

"You always take such good care of me," he murmured, his tone laced with shyness.

As you began tending to him, your touch was deliberate and soft, showing your affection with every small gesture. You wiped his face with a warm cloth, pressing soft kisses to his forehead and cheeks after each gentle stroke. His eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned into every touch, his lips parting slightly with a breathy sigh.

“You’re glowing,” you teased, earning a soft chuckle from him.

He opened his eyes slightly, still hazy with warmth and affection. “That’s because of you,” he replied earnestly, making your cheeks flush.

You shifted, positioning yourself to better reach him. He lay still, watching you with an almost reverent gaze as you kissed his shoulder, letting your lips linger to reassure him without words. You traced the outline of his arm with your fingers before pulling him closer.

“You’re perfect,” you said softly, meeting his gaze. The sincerity in your tone made his eyes widen before he hid his face in your chest, groaning softly.

“Stop saying things like that,” he mumbled, his voice muffled but undeniably affectionate.

“Why?” you teased, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. “Because you know it’s true?”

He groaned again, this time hiding his reddened ears. “Because you’re going to spoil me.”

“I already do,” you replied without missing a beat. “And I’m not stopping anytime soon.”

He let out a soft laugh, his body finally relaxing completely against yours. You took the opportunity to pull him back onto the bed, cradling him as you traced lazy patterns along his back. His breathing slowed, and for a moment, the world outside of your shared space didn’t matter.

Sol was practically glowing, his usual composed demeanor entirely replaced by something softer, something utterly endearing. A wide, boyish grin spread across his face as he buried himself into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist like he couldn’t bear to let go. His warmth radiated against you, his breaths slow and content as he nuzzled closer.

“You’re so warm,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your skin. You could feel the slight curve of his smile pressing against you, making your chest tighten with affection.

“Look who’s talking,” you teased gently, running your fingers through his hair. It was soft to the touch, and he leaned into your hand like a cat seeking affection. “You’re practically burning up.”

“That’s your fault,” he shot back playfully, his cheeks darkening despite the confident tone. He shifted to look up at you, his glowing smile giving way to something more bashful as his gaze flickered between your eyes and lips. “You make me like this.”

You couldn’t help but smile, your hand cupping his cheek as you pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Good,” you whispered against his skin, savoring the way he shivered at your words. “I like you like this.”

The comment made his ears flush bright red, and he hid his face in your neck again, letting out a muffled groan. “You’re unfair,” he mumbled, though you could feel his grin widening against your skin.

“Me? Unfair?” you replied, feigning innocence as you trailed your hands down his back in slow, soothing motions. “You’re the one clinging to me like this.”

“Because I don’t want to let go,” he admitted softly, his vulnerability catching you off guard. He tilted his head just enough to look at you, his half-lidded gaze brimming with affection. “I feel safe like this. With you.”

Your heart swelled, and you leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips. It wasn’t hurried or passionate, but something slower, deeper—full of all the unspoken emotions you couldn’t put into words. When you pulled away, his grin was even wider, his expression utterly smitten.

“See?” you said softly, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “You’re glowing.”

“You keep saying that,” he murmured, but the way he hid his face against your chest again betrayed how much he loved hearing it.

You chuckled, cradling him as he melted further into your arms. “That’s because it’s true.” Your hands resumed their gentle path along his back, tracing small circles that made him sigh in pure contentment.

After a small bath, You had to pull Sol. He said he didn't mind being covered..in whatever. You pushed him to the bathroom.

Sol was focused on the soup, carefully stirring the pot with a steady hand. The steam curled up around his face, his usual sharp features softened in the kitchen’s warm glow. You sat on the counter nearby, swinging your legs lightly as you watched him with a mischievous grin. He looked so domestic like this, a stark contrast to his usual composed self, and you couldn’t help but want to mess with him just a little.

Leaning forward, you reached out and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His hand froze mid-stir, his body stiffening for a moment as his ears turned red. “W-What are you doing?” he mumbled, not looking at you but clearly flustered.

“Nothing,” you replied innocently, already leaning in again. This time, you aimed for his jaw, letting your lips linger just long enough to make him squirm.

“Y/N…” he said quietly, his voice shaky but lacking any real resistance. He finally turned his head slightly, his dark eyes meeting yours, wide and full of embarrassment. “I’m cooking.”

“I can see that,” you teased, your grin widening as you kissed the corner of his mouth. “But you’re also very kissable right now.”

He flinched again, his grip on the spoon tightening as he tried to keep his composure. “You’re not making this easy,” he muttered under his breath, though his lips twitched upward in a small, shy smile.

You chuckled, leaning back slightly to give him a moment of reprieve. “Need anything?” you asked, feigning nonchalance as you played with the hem of your shirt.

“Pepper,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. He still wasn’t looking at you directly, but the blush on his cheeks was impossible to miss.

“Pepper, huh?” you repeated with a smirk. Hopping off the counter, you made your way to the spice rack, grabbing the pepper and handing it to him with a flourish. “Anything else, Chef Sol?”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took the pepper from you. “You’re too much,” he said, but there was no malice in his tone. If anything, he sounded amused, even fond.

“Too much for you to handle?” you teased, leaning closer once more. This time, you kissed the shell of his ear, your breath warm against his skin. He shivered, his hand faltering as he almost dropped the pepper.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice somewhere between a warning and a plea. “I need to finish this.”

“Fine, fine,” you said, stepping back with a dramatic sigh. “I’ll behave. For now.”

The kitchen was filled with the comforting scent of the soup, the two of you sitting at the table, sipping from your bowls. The warmth of the meal matched the warmth between you both, and as you took a small spoonful, you couldn’t help but smile at the taste.

“This is really good,” you said, eyes bright as you looked over at Sol. He glanced up at you, a soft smile on his lips, but he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, gazing at you more than the food.

His face was still flushed, his dark eyes following your every movement. He looked so content in the moment, so at peace, and it made your heart flutter.

“You’re smiling,” you said playfully, raising an eyebrow. “I think you’re happy about my approval.”

He shifted his gaze slightly, his cheeks still rosy as he lowered his spoon. "I'm happy you like it," he said softly, his voice just barely above a whisper. "I wanted to make it perfect for you."

You couldn’t help but beam at him, warmth spreading through your chest. "You always go out of your way for me," you teased, “I think that’s pretty cute.”

The words tumbled out of your mouth before you even had a chance to stop them, but they felt right. You leaned in, setting your bowl down as you placed a hand over his on the table. "You know, we should just get married," you said with a playful smirk, tilting your head slightly. "We should just be together forever. Don't you think?"

Sol froze for a moment, his eyes going wide, before his gaze flicked away. His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of pink, and you could see his fingers twitch slightly where they rested on the table. "What... what?" he stammered, clearly flustered but not outright rejecting the idea. "W-We don't have to—"

"No, no!" You laughed, teasing him further. "I was just joking. But, wouldn't it be fun?" You winked, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. "I can already imagine us together forever, making soup for each other, and you cooking for me every night."

His face was so red now, his expression a mix of surprise, embarrassment, and something else—something deeper that he wasn’t quite ready to admit. “I... I didn’t mean to... I wasn’t...” His words stumbled over themselves, and you could tell he was too flustered to finish his sentence.

But, seeing him like that made you feel a warmth deep in your heart. You couldn’t help but smile more, your eyes softening as you looked at him. "You’re so cute," you said gently, your voice full of affection. "You know that, right?"

Sol finally looked up at you, a nervous laugh escaping his lips as he tried to compose himself. "I’m not cute," he muttered, still trying to look away, but his smile betrayed him.

"Yes, you are," you replied, leaning in just a little closer, your voice soft and loving. "You’re ridiculously cute, Sol."

His breath caught for a moment, his cheeks still burning with embarrassment as he finally managed to meet your gaze. “You’re the one who’s... making me feel like this,” he mumbled, shaking his head in a failed attempt to hide his smile. “I’m not used to this...”

You let out a soft laugh, feeling your heart swell with affection for him. "It’s okay," you whispered, your voice low and soothing. "I think you're perfect just the way you are."

Sol’s blush didn’t fade, but there was a small, shy grin tugging at his lips as he looked at you. "You're making me all mushy," he admitted, his voice a little more tender than before.

A rush of warmth spread through your chest at his words, and you couldn’t stop the smile that broke out across your face. "I think I’m already there," you whispered back, your heart racing as you reached over to hold his hand, feeling the softness of his skin under yours.

You thought teasing him, pushing him just a little further, might reveal that obsession lurking beneath Sol's shy demeanor. Maybe you'd catch a glimpse of his desperation, his possessiveness—the part of him that craved you so deeply it bordered on uncontainable. Instead, what you saw was a smile.

Not just any smile. It was as bright as the sun, as if the entire weight of the world had lifted off his shoulders. His eyes shimmered, brimming with emotion, and before you could even process it, he was crying.

“You’re…” his voice cracked, trembling with overwhelming sincerity. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

His words hit you like a bolt of lightning. For a moment, your heart froze, and your yandere-like thoughts—the need to possess him, to keep him yours and only yours—shattered into something else entirely. Something soft. Something pure.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over faster than you could stop them. A choked sob escaped your throat as you lunged forward, wrapping your arms tightly around him.

“Sol…” you whimpered, burying your face into his chest as you began to cry in earnest. The tears wouldn’t stop. You were overwhelmed—by his words, his vulnerability, his love. All of it crashed into you at once, leaving you raw and open in a way you hadn’t expected.

“Hey, hey,” Sol stammered, startled by your reaction. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively, holding you close as his own tears quietly slipped down his cheeks. “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” His voice was soft, full of concern, and he rubbed small circles on your back as you clung to him.

You couldn’t answer right away, too caught up in the storm of emotions swirling inside you. All you could do was clutch him tighter, sobbing into his shirt as he held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Finally, you managed to speak, your voice muffled and shaky. “I… I don’t know. I just… I’m so happy, Sol. I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice firm but tender. He pulled back just enough to tilt your face up to meet his gaze, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. His eyes were red-rimmed, but they shone with a love so pure it took your breath away. “You deserve everything, everything, and more. Don’t you dare think otherwise.”

His words made you cry harder, and he only hugged you tighter, resting his chin on top of your head as you both stayed there, locked in each other’s embrace. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek, grounding you, soothing you.

“I love you,” you finally whispered, the words slipping out between quiet sobs. “I love you so much it hurts.”

“I love you too,” he murmured, his voice filled with so much raw emotion that it sent a shiver down your spine. “More than anything. You’re my everything.”

The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, holding each other as your tears slowly dried....

It's up to you to think if you want to love him.

I hope you know "Me"- me?

[luffysscraps]

How they eat~

Drabble;🔞;Fem reader;Ft;Luffy;Zoro;Sanji;Ace;Sabo;Law;Kid

Luffy devours you~

-“Shi shi shi~ come’re~”

Gruff hands grab at your thighs and pull you down causing your legs to dangle off the bed. In no time his head is deep in between your legs. He looks up at you and gives you a cute, angelic smile before his slimy tongue slips out of his mouth. In an instant his mouth is against your folds, nose deep on the ridge of your clit while his tongue plunges deep into your gummy walls. His hunger is ravenous. He inhales through his nose while his mouth is busy, not once lifting his head to take away take from his meal. Lots of slurping, sucking, and gulping when he’s eating out your pussy. His arms squeeze around your torso tightly, not allowing you to move an inch. “Stoppp squirming~ ‘m hungryyy~” He came to eat and that’s exactly what he’s gonna do. He’s not letting you go until you cum at least three times on his tongue. Even then his hunger knows no bound, he’ll go until he’s locked jaw and his boxers are soiled with his own cum.

You just taste so good. He can’t get enough~

Zoro’s a fucking tease~

-“Feel good don’t it~? Sounds like it does~”

Zoro speaks in between long, wet, licks. His meaty tongue sinks in between your folds ever so slightly and starts out quick, but once he comes up to your clit he takes his time. Painstakingly so. Short and spaced out licks land on your bundle of nerves and then when you least expect it he’ll dive straight in and start sucking on it intensely. His large hands hold your thighs in place so you can’t squirm away while you lull out in pleasure. He moves away from your clit and extends his tongue as far as he can into your pussy, it swirls around collecting and sucking up your juices. You’re almost to your limit and Zoro knows it. So he pulls away, a trail of your juice and his saliva connecting his tongue to your pussy “Hmm tasty~” He’ll chuckle and look at you with an all knowing smirk. “What… where you about to cum..? Hmm I’ll just have to go back in for seconds then~”

He loves to edge you with just his tongue~

Sanji savors his meal~

-“Thank you for the meal, Mon amour~”

Soft, slow, and gentle kitten licks and kisses trail gently down your stomach until they reach your soaking core. He inhales your scent, softly groaning at the delicacy as his thumbs gently pull apart your folds. His tongue laps at your juices softly, taking in the wetness on his taste buds and imprinting your taste into his mind. He loves it. It’s unlike anything he’s ever tasted and he’s infatuated with your cunt juice. But he’s not a glutton; he takes his time eating you out. Small licks, gentle sucks on your clit, and takes in mouthful after mouthful of your pussy slowly. If you end up cumming he takes his time using his tongue to clean you up and drink up his reward.

You’re just so divine, he has to savor you~

Ace gets pussy drunk~

-“Hmm~ I need ya sugar~ com’ere”

Ace often wakes up with a need to taste you. He’s already under the covers and between your thighs. He lazily scrapes your panties to the side before diving in. His tongue roughly and wildly scraps against your entrance a few times before he parts your folds plunging his face in between your pussy lips. Ace practically melts on your cunt; his tongue curling and twisting inside your entrance, a thumb lazily flicking your clit, and his other hand begins to palm himself through his boxers. “Mmm~ So good~” He can’t help but moan into your pussy at the taste of you. He laps up your juices with lewd and loud slurps, sucks, and licks. He buries himself in between your thighs lulling on your cunt like a lollipop, your juices soaking into his taste buds like a delicious sweet. After you reach your climax all over his tongue he greedily dives back in for another round. He just can’t stop, no matter how sensitive you are.

He craves your pussy

Sabo’s a freak~

-“Sit on my face.”

Without much of an explanation, Sabo’s arms wrap around your waist and brings your body down and clit on to the ridge of his nose. No hovering; He holds your waist down tightly to his mouth. You can feel his short breathes against your clit and while a large smile forms against your pussy lips. He simply watches your pussy from this angle for a while. His hands not letting go of you and you can’t move an inch. Without warning he pulls you down farther, smothering his face in between your cunt. The pleasure hits you like a rocket and you aren’t sure if he can even breathe anymore. He’s sure having his fill, his tongue goes wild against your pussy, licking, sucking and frantically slurping up your juices. He doesn’t let you move from off of him, in fact his fingers sink deep into your waist lightly scratching you as a warning. He rocks his head against your cunt, giving your clit stimulation from his nose rubbing against it. Because of his wildness you feel yourself squirt as you reach your climax. Sabo smirks allowing you to lift off of him just a little bit as your juices soak his face. You’re beyond embarrassed but the blonde just stares up at you with a knowing smile as he licks his damp lips and face. “Delicious~”

What more can he say? He just gets a little feral when he gets to taste your juices~

Law plays with his food~

- “You want more than just my tongue don’t you~? Such a naughty pussy.~”

Right there. In between the ‘D’ and ‘H’ in the word ‘Death’ tattooed on his fingers. Spells none other than ‘eat’, and boy do his fingers know how to devour he has two fingers knuckle deep inside of your cunt, twirling around and tapping along your gummy walls. Every now and again he’ll pull them out with a lewd ‘pop’ and give them a soft gentle lick. “Hmm~ you’re sweeter than usual today~”. He’s such a dirty talker. He thrusts his fingers back in without any warning causing you to squirm a little. “Stay still.” He commands giving your bottom a smack. While his fingers thrust into you, he bends over and gives your clit some attention with his tongue. Lightly sucking on it and rolling it around his tongue. you can feel the small, cold metal piercing clink against your clit which adds to the pleasure. Your juices taste delicious against his tongue and his fingers and tongue switch places. Now his fingers are rubbing circles in your clit while his tongue thrusts in and out of you; drinking up your juices with nothing but primal urge. It doesn’t take long before you cum undone onto his tongue in which he drinks it all up, softly pulling away once he’s satisfied. He even goes so far as to lap up the rest of your juices on his finger and pops it in his mouth.

He knows how to work his fingers; from his devil fruit to the bedroom~

Eustass Kidd loves to bring you to tears

-“What? Can’t take anymore slut~? Isn’t this what you wanted~?”

As obnoxious as Kidd is, he sure knows how to get you to scream out on his tongue. He smirks deviously as his tongue edges in and out of your walls. He’s holding you down onto his face while his hands grip your bottom. His hands practically claw and dig into the side of your ass, not allowing you to get away from him. “ ‘s too much? Slow down? You beg and whine for it all day but can’t take it~?” Kidd laughs as his overstimulation and frantic tongue practically brings you to tears. You’ve already came three times and he won’t let you go, the pleasure is too much; You’ll know to think twice before asking him to do anything for you. “Too bad. I’m enjoying myself now~” He chuckles into your pussy before going back in. Your hands claw at his legs for dear mercy but the pain only drives him further. He sucks at your labia before plunging his tongue inside of you and thrusting wildly as if it was his cock. Even as you cum for the fourth time in an hour he shows no signs of stopping, even licking your hyper sensitive clit as you cum and scream out his name.

He just loves to make you scream on his tongue~

Cum back post <3

[gloomy-kitty]

𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 | 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

minors don’t interact!!!!! 18+ only mature content under tab

synopsis : sol was obsessed with you the moment he laid eyes on you. you were his soulmate. he’d make sure no one else would touch you. he is the only one who can satisfy you. don’t you know that?

warnings : yandere, masturbation, obsessive behavior, stalking, somnophilia, cnc, dubcon, predatory behavior, smut, long word count, drugging, grinding, penetration, very rough sex, whiny submissive Sol at one point, and dominant Sol at another point.

author’s note : if you just want to read smut skip to sections with the 🍋 icon

long word count (11.7k+ words) i mean this might as well be split into different chapters but i don’t want to do that, also i decided to change him referring to you as pumpkin to something else sorry. gave him a tongue piercing because it sounded fun >:3 also i hate tumblr formatting so read on ao3 if you want . (gloomy_kitty)

also not 100% lore accurate

thanksss to my friend who proofread this for me!!

Sol was obsessed with you and had been since you first arrived at the school. The moment his scarlet eyes landed on you something strange was awakened within him. It felt like love at first sight—no it was love at first sight. Did you remember your first encounter? No, it was so long ago you probably hadn’t. He did though, he remembered how he felt so vividly. His heart pounded in his chest, butterflies fluttered in his stomach, and his breath hitched making it difficult to breath the moment he had seen you. That cute library assistant that worked on campus. He remembered how he had walked up to you at the counter, asking for a book for class. How you went out of your way to help him find it, not complaining a single time.

“You absolutely need this book for your class right?” You asked him, sighing in defeat after nearly an hour of searching the library.

“Yes, but if you can’t find it don’t w-“ Sol began, a bit irritated that this was required for his passing grade. But he’d just ordered it online and prayed it arrived on time before finals.

“No. I know we have it. Don’t worry I’ll find it. Just give me another day. Here write down your info and I’ll give you a call once I do.” You said determinedly, sliding a sticky note and pen towards him. “O..okay.” He mumbled and wrote down his information. He fully expected you to not ever find the book or just forget to call him to let him know of your findings. But the very next morning he received a call from an unknown number. “Hello?” He answered.

“Hi this ______ from the school’s library. I found the book you were looking for. It’s reserved at the front desk. If I’m not here just let whoever is at the counter know your name.” You said, he could tell that you were quite happy.

Sol’s eyes widened in shock, you really found it. He responded back with a simple thanks and during a free period he went to the library. There he saw you shelving away books, a content expression on your face. Awkwardly he walked up to you clearing his throat, when he realized you had an earbud in. You jumped in surprise, dropping the book you were holding. Then, at the same time you and Sol reached down to grab the book. Your hand on top of his for a brief second before you pulled away. It felt like a bolt of electricity shot through him. “Whoops! Oh hey you’re the guy from yesterday!” You laughed quietly as he handed you back the book. With that you checked him out reminding him that late fees would occur if he didn’t bring it back on time. You explained how you stayed over an hour after your shift to find what he was needing, then it turned out it was in the completely wrong genre! A historical book tucked away with comics, how egregious!

When Sol asked why you did that you shrugged, simply saying, “I don't want anyone to fail their first semester because I was too lazy to find a book for them. It’s my job after all.” You flashed him a smile. As you handed it over your fingers brushed over him for another brief moment. That same electric feeling coursed through his body. It was that moment something had awakened inside Sol. He was obsessed now.

That memory played in his head for over a year, he had found out your first name. One day when sitting in the library “studying” he overheard you telling a blonde girl about how excited you were for your art class in the fall then you explained what period it would be. Since there was only one introduction to art class that fall semester for the period before lunch, he was going to enroll in art class regardless so might as well make sure he was in yours. Everything had been planned out. Sol didn’t leave any detail forgotten.

He got to class early, sitting in the back of the classroom. He placed his backpack on the chair next to him and anyone he tried to sit next to he glared at, causing them to scurry away. Now he just needed to wait for you to arrive, you’d have to take the only available seat open next to him in a full class.

Like he planned There were no more seats left in class, you had arrived a bit late, only barely beating the bell. He watched as your eyes darted around the classroom looking for somewhere to sit, then a relief look washed over your cute face when you spotted the open seat next to him. Quickly you made your way over pulling out the chair, “Is this taken?” You asked him, already beginning to slip off your backpack.

“N..no.” Sol replied avoiding your gaze, he was focused on his sketchbook, his pencil tapping against the book as he tried to control his breathing. “Oh thank god.” You sighed in relief, finally taking your seat. Rummaging through your backpack you pulled out all the essentials you’d need for art class. It worked. His plan went perfectly!

Sol found it difficult to concentrate on the professor’s words as he discussed basic art fundamentals, he just kept glancing over at you. Your perfume smelled so intoxicating, it drove him wild. The way you studiously jotted down notes was so adorable. Then class ended much to the man’s horror, he hadn’t written down a single thing but most importantly you gathered your things to leave without saying a word to him. He lingered in the classroom a bit, slowly shoving his sketchbook back into his backpack.

A couple days passed before he could see you again, and the whole time he found it difficult to think about anything else other than you. Sol was a bit angry at himself for not even speaking to you, that was his chance to reintroduce himself. He would talk to you next time, he promised himself.

The next class came and you were once again in the same predicament as last time. Arrived to class right before the bell went off and the only seat opened was next to the same guy as before. Not that you minded, he seemed nice enough. “Hey.” You greeted him quietly as you sat down before taking a seat. “Hi.” He returned your greeting quietly. He once again didn’t speak to you and that cycle went on for some time, before finally he had an excuse for the two of you to speak. He wasn’t sure why he kept shying away from you. Shit, he could barely even concentrate in class.

Then the next class came. “Everyone, please pair up with the person beside you, I want you and your partner to discuss today’s chapter.” The professor mumbled as he took a seat back down at his desk, immediately kicking his feet onto the desk and tapping away on his phone.

Turning around with a sigh you looked at your partner with a smile, “Hi. Thanks for always saving me a seat. I’m ______.” You introduced yourself, then gave the dark haired man an encouraging nod to speak. I know what your name is. He thought. Sol rubbed the back of his neck, nervously avoiding your eyes, his gaze fixated to the side. “Yeah it’s no problem. I’m..Sol.” He introduced himself back, hoping that maybe you remembered him.

“Nice to meet you, Sol.” You chimed in reply, holding your hand out. He looked at your hand, then back at you before he shook your hand back. “Yeah, same.” He said, a small smile making its way to his pierced lips. The moment your hands touched, he felt his heart do a leap, and without meaning to he held onto your hand for a bit longer than usual. Though upon realizing that, he quickly pulled his hand away. Either you didn’t mind or just didn’t notice it, as you immediately turned your attention back to the textbook. So you didn’t remember him, that was okay it’s not like he ever went out of his way to speak to you at the library.

“So, this chapter…” you began as you pushed the textbook to the center of the table so you both could share. Sol didn’t speak too much, he was more interested in what you had to say, he nodded attentively and hummed in acknowledgment when he agreed with something you said. The professor didn’t seem too interested in teaching class, so the reminder was spent just conversing. You giggled as Sol said something as you playfully slapped his arm, “What, no way? You did not!” You quietly exclaimed as Sol told you a story. He nodded, “Yeah I really did. It’s embarrassing but it’s the truth.” He laughed softly. Every single fucking thing was so adorable about you; your name, laugh, appearance, personality, every single thing was so adorable. Then just as Sol was about to open his mouth to speak again, the bell rang.

Jumping up in your seat, you pushed the chair back, quickly gathering your belongings. “I gotta go, Sol. But you’ll save me a seat again right? I really enjoyed talking to you.” You asked, looking at him with the cutest expression. “Yeah of course.” He reassured you. “Thanks, you’re the best!” You said and with that, you rushed out of the classroom.

As Sol finished gathering his own belongings, he noticed something sitting on your chair. Your jacket was left behind. He grabbed it and quickly walked out of the classroom to see if he could catch up to you, but of course you were nowhere to be seen. ‘I’ll hold onto it. Give it to her next class.’ He thought to himself.

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“Woah, that's a cute jacket! You seeing a cute girl?” Hyugo asked his friend. The pair sat at their usual spot on the rooftop eating their lunches. Sol rolled his eyes, “No. The girl who sits next to me in art left it, I’m going to give it to her next class. I just didn’t want it to get lost.” He explained as he continued to eat. He could bring it to you at the library where you worked part time but no, he just wanted to hold onto a bit longer. It was a cute jacket, he couldn’t lie - it was black with striped sleeves and an adorable black cat patch was ironed onto the front. It suited you perfectly.

“Aren’t you so sweet?” Hyugo teased, causing his friend’s face to heat up. Sol grumbled under his breath as he just ignored the comment and continued to eat, only causing the other to laugh. As the bell rang, signaling that their final class of the day would begin and marking the end of their lunch break, the pair stood up. Sol gathered the bento boxes, placing them in his backpack.

“Are you doing anything after class?” Hyugo asked before they parted ways. Sol wasn’t, but he needed to spend some time alone, there was an issue he needed to take care of. “Yeah.” He simply responded. “Aw okay, I’ll just go to the arcade by myself then.” He shrugged before walking off.

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It was dark already when Sol arrived back to his small studio apartment, the short winter days meant it would always be night when he got home. The dark haired man sat his bag on a chair, taking out the bentos to wash. He remembered your jacket was still in his hands, so carefully he placed it on the top of the couch. And so he did his usual evening routine; cleaning dishes, cooking dinner and lunch. The television was playing a show he really had no interest in watching, but it was good background noise.

But he just couldn’t stop thinking about you, eyes flicking to the jacket on the sofa as he prepared his and Hyugo’s lunches. Sol felt the crotch of his pants tighten uncomfortably against him, he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as his heart rate accelerated. But he remained focused just hurrying to finish dinner as soon as possible so he could shower and lay in bed. Tomorrow was early classes after all.

Finally after some time Sol had showered and flopped onto his bed, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. He closed his eyes as he tried to focus on anything other than you. But his boxers were so incredibly tight, his erection wouldn’t go away no matter what he tried to do. It felt wrong to touch himself to you, so resisting the urge Sol finally fell asleep. Tonight at least he was able to resist the urge.

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The next day of classes came and nothing extraordinary happened. Sol couldn’t spot you anywhere, he supposed he would have to wait until tomorrow to see you and return the jacket. His evening routine was more or less the same, but as he laid in bed tonight, the urges were getting harder and harder to resist.

Sol tried to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to think of anything else other than the raging erection in his pants right now. His gaze kept flickering to your jacket, he was reminded of how amazing you smelled. He just wanted to smell the perfume again, there was no harm in that…right? Quickly getting out of bed, he snatched your jacket from the couch, immediately pressing it to his nose. Oh god, you smelled so fucking good. He was intoxicated by the scent, his eyes rolling back as he took in your smell, and without even realizing what was happening, his hands trailed down his torso until they slipped under the waistband of his boxers. His long slender fingers immediately wrapped themselves around his erection.

Sol began to pump his cock, a whimper leaving him as his thumb grazed over his tip. Precum was already pooling at the slit, his face still buried in your cute jacket. He could only imagine what it would feel like to have his face buried in your hair, neck…your pussy. He fantasized how amazing you would taste as his face was between your thighs, he’d make you feel so good. He had wanted you for so long now.

“_____…._______….” Sol whimpered your name, scarlet eyes fluttering shut as his pace quickened. At this point he was panting heavily, a complete mess and if your mere scent was doing this to him, he couldn’t imagine how he’d act during the actual act. His cock twitched in his hand and legs trembled; he collapsed onto his knees. He was now thrusting himself eagerly into the palm of his hands, precum lubricating his cock. Sol’s moans echoed throughout the apartment and he felt the warm sensation building up in his core, then with one final thrust he came loudly. “Oh fuck ______!” He cried out, his cum making an absolute mess of his boxers.

Riding out his orgasm he finally came to a stop and dropped the jacket onto the floor. His chest moving up and down as he tried to catch his breath, the whole of his body was a hue of red and warm to the touch. Dark hair sticking to his face from the beads of sweat that had formed. He made sure to toss your jacket onto the couch before he removed his hand from his boxers. A wave of embarrassment and guilt washed over him when he saw sticky cum coating his hand. I shouldn’t have done that. It felt so good though. He thought with a sigh as he stood to his feet. I should go wash up.

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Class was the next day, and that meant Sol could finally see you, he could return your jacket. He waited until after class, when you both were in the hallway. A part of him debated on not giving it back, he wanted it forever, to always have you with him, but he decided against it and it was worth it. The look on your face when he had handed you your jacket back was worth it. “Oh my gosh, Sol. I was so worried I had lost my favorite jacket forever. Thank you so much!” You exclaimed as you hugged him briefly, before you slipped it back on. “Yeah..of course. I tried looking for you yesterday to return it but I couldn’t find you anywhere.” He explained. A tinge of red evident on his pale features as he was reminded of what he did the night before with it. He violated your poor jacket, but of course he would never tell you that.

You shook your head, waving your hand dismissively, “Sorry about that! I was in such a rush to leave. My other job needed me to cover a shift.” You explained. You had another job besides the library?

But he didn’t mind; he was just glad he could keep your jacket safe from anyone else. Fumbling in the pocket of your pants you pulled out your cell phone, “We should exchange numbers! Just in case one of us needs to get into contact with each other.” You suggested, swiping your finger across to unlock the device. He watched as you typed away on the screen before handing it to him.

Sol’s heart was beating so quickly now, you were really asking for his number? He looked a bit uncomfortable, like he was rejecting your offer, because you began to pull away your phone looking at the floor embarrassedly. “S-sorry. I shouldn’t ha-“ you began but he cut you off, gently snatching the phone from your hand. And within seconds he typed in his number, he already noticed you made a contact name for him. Sol ☀️

But something else caught his attention as he felt the phone vibrate in his hand.

Crowe 🐦‍⬛ : You’re still coming over tonight, right?

Something inside of the dark haired man awakened when he saw that text. He froze in place, his blush that tinted his features now went away. Who the hell is Crowe? He thought bitterly. Your boyfriend or a coworker? He only snapped out of his thoughts when you retrieved your phone back, your thumbs danced across the screen then he felt his pocket vibrate.

“Did you get it?” You asked curiously, tilting your head so cutely to the side. “L-let me check.” Sol quickly said and pulled out his phone. His boring black phone background was illuminated with your text.

Unknown: hii! it’s ______ :D

Without a moment of hesitation he saved your contact. ______ 🌙

His contact was saved with a sun by his name so it only made sense that you were the moon. With that, you two said your goodbyes and Sol watched as you walked down the hall, he stood in his spot with a small smile on his lips.

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It was the weekend which meant Sol would do his weekly cleaning of his apartment. Loud music echoed throughout the apartment as he cleaned, humming softly to himself. Something caught his eye as he was vacuuming under the couch, a small piece of rectangular plastic glittered as it caught the light from the ceiling fan. Crouching, he picked it up and his eyes widened instantly when he realized what it was. Your ID had fallen out from the pocket of your jacket, he assumed. And all of your information was on it.

“______ ______..” Sol whispered your full name. He didn't know what it was before. Your address was there too, and it looked recent, judging from the picture and expiration date. The card shook ever so slightly in his fingers as he was practically salivating that he would now be able to find so many more things about you.

Halting his cleaning for the day, he shut off the music and instantly opened up his laptop to begin searching your name online. Hours had passed, day turned into night. Sol’s scarlet red irises were glazed over, his lips dry and mouth a bit parched. He hadn’t left his laptop screen in hours, too engrossed with finding out every single detail about you. Your social media wasn’t private, how foolish of you. And he scrolled through the dozens of pictures you had posted, finding out everyone you associated it with. The page refreshed and a new picture was posted. You are with a group of people at what looked like a bar, with the caption: Love my friends!! Tonight was so fun, let’s do it again!! :D

Sol remembered the text from this “Crowe” earlier and he began to examine the picture, trying to find out who this Crowe was. His eyes narrowed when he saw the man next to you in the picture. A long haired brunette with tan skin, he swore he had seen that face before. This Crowe was behind your frame, hands resting on either of your shoulders. To anyone else they would have assumed that you and the man were friends, nothing in the pose indicated anything romantic, but to Sol it was too much. He didn’t want to see another man behind you touching you like that. Standing up he slammed his laptop shut and decided he needed to go to bed before he got too consumed by his jealousy and anger.

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As days turned into weeks, then eventually into months, Sol and you grew closer. You were regularly texting and hanging out. He had found out that your lunches consisted of junk food, and that was even if you brought lunch to campus. So he decided to start prepping your lunches, and even dinners as soon as he found out you ate cup noodles nearly every night. God, you were cute albeit a bit useless, he didn’t mind cooking for you, it only made him feel wanted - and the look on your face every time you ate his meals just made him filled with so much joy.

You were so kind and introduced him to your friend group, Crowe was kind enough and he kept his hands off of you in Sol’s presence. But he knew that man looked familiar, and Crowe looked at him with suspicious eyes and a fake smile. Sol only remained cordial with your friends though, if they made you happy he’d pretend to be friendly with them. But the man never returned your ID, it was his now. You complained about having to buy a new one, but he made sure to slip some extra cash into your backpack one day when you weren’t looking. The text he received that night was so adorable. “Omg Sol I found some cash at the bottom of my backpack. I’m eating good tonight! >:3”

It was so worth it. But Sol had a dirty secret that he couldn’t tell a living soul. He was slipping sleeping medication into the dinners he made you, he made a copy of your apartment key, and he was letting himself into your home every night. It was all in an attempt to make sure you were safe!

“My neighborhood is so unsafe. I really need to find somewhere else to live. There’s been so many recent break ins and assaults, and I live at ground level.” He remembered you complaining.

“You can stay at my place, _______. It’s a decent neighborhood. Lots of old people, so it’s quiet.” He offered.

“Sol! No, I can't do that. You already do enough for me. I got new locks on everything and alarms.” You retorted with a pout. He knew you wouldn’t change your mind, you weren’t that type of girl. You were independent, but that was okay. Sol would still keep an eye on you. Knowing you kept a spare key hidden away, he found it and while you were at work he had a copy made, then placed the key back without you being none the wiser.

Tonight wasn’t any different, Sol waited until you were asleep and he slipped into your quiet, dark apartment. He could navigate your home in the dark. That's how familiar he was with the layout, but the dim street lights also did aid him. Your bedroom door was slightly ajar and he quickly made his way in.

The streetlights illuminated your room, he saw your sleeping form on the bed, one hand hanging off the side of the bed and your blankets messily thrown on top of your body. In fact, the blankets barely covered any of your body. You wore an oversized t-shirt and the cutest panties - the shirt was raised and exposed your bare torso. “Were you waiting for me dear?” He whispered as he knelt down at your bedside. Folding his hands on the edge of the bed, he rested his chin on top, his gaze was so loving - but there was something so dark about the way he looked at you. Raising a hand up, Sol’s slender fingers brushed aside the hair on your face. “So cute…” he breathed out.

You shifted, your eyes squeezing shut as a quiet groan left your lips. When you moved through, your shirt lifted just a bit more, revealing your breast partially. Sol felt his face grow warm and he tried to avert his gaze, but it was like you were practically begging for him, looking so cute and innocent. He choked back a moan as he felt his dick get hard, his fingers wrapped around the wrist of your limp hand and he placed his cheek into your warm palm. His eyes fluttered shut as he let out a content sigh, “You're asking me to do something, huh dear?” He mumbled. That had to be it or why else were you wearing such an outfit is that why you left your bedroom door opened? You were inviting him in, right?

Sol leaned down to press a kiss to your exposed neck, he nibbled softly at the skin. A quiet whimper escaping you as your brows furrowed. So cute. He thought, still nipping at the skin, leaving a faint red mark. His hand trailed down your neck until his fingers reached your breast, he gently massaged it for a brief moment. Another quiet whimper came from you. He let your hand that was cupping his cheek fall onto the bed for a moment, as his fingers fumbled with the belt of his pants and with a swift motion his dick was out. Already hard from anticipation, he positioned himself in your hands, he laced both your and his fingers together. He let out a moan feeling your fingers wrapped around his dick.

His whole body shuddered in pleasure at the feeling, and he buried his face between your breasts to quiet his moans as he began to rock his hips back and forth. His sensitive tip fucked your palm as he moaned out your name from between your breasts. Tears pooling at the corner of his closed eyes as pathetic needy whimpers left him.

“You’re mine. Mine..you’re mine ______. I love you so much.” He cried as he felt himself about to cum. Then, with another thrust he came hard into your and his laced hands. As he calmed his breathing down he slowly lifted his head up, you were still asleep, oblivious to the lewd act he just made you do. “You’re so beautiful, dear. You feel so perfect.” He whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

Standing up he pulled his pants back on, then walked to the bathroom to wash his sticky hands. Grabbing a rag he wet, he walked back to clean up the mess he left on your hands. “Crowe..the paper...” you mumbled in your sleep. Sol’s scarlet eyes widened in shock at the name, why were you talking about him when he was right here. His fists clenched and eyes narrowed, a dark cloud casting over his face. “You really ought to stop talking about him, dear. Crowe doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t understand you like I do.” He hissed through gritted teeth. You were just confused - that’s okay, Sol was patient. He leaned down to press a kiss against your lips once again before wishing you a good night. With that, he quietly slipped out of your apartment.

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The final day of class before winter break came the next day. You and Sol sat in art class together, sketching your final assignment. The classroom was quiet as everyone worked. You kept glancing at the dark haired man next you, a faint blush on your face as you remembered the brief dream you had of him last night. You dreamt that he was having sex with you, you heard his moans as he fucked you. Then, just before the dream actually got good, your mind decided that all of a sudden you were going to dream about you and Crowe finishing up your finals paper for English class that you had done earlier yesterday. God! Why did his stupid pretty face have to ruin the best dream you ever had!

Class couldn’t end any sooner and the Professor motioned for everyone to turn in their assignments. He reminded the students to check their emails during the winter break to see their grades. You quickly stood out of your seat, the chair nearly falling back as you fumbled with putting your things away. Sol noticed that something was off about you, you wouldn’t look at him at all. Surely you didn’t know what he did with you last night, right? He slung his backpack over his shoulder as he watched you as you zipped up your backpack. “Want to go to the arcade?” He asked you suddenly, “Hyugo and I are going since classes ended early today. Like right now.” He added.

Snapping your head up, you actually looked at him for the first time today. Your eyes meeting his, “O-oh…umm. I’d love to but I don’t have any…money.” You mumbled, voice trailing off at the end. “Campus library let go of all the part timers a few weeks ago, remember? And my other job cut my hours. So it’s tight right now.” You sighed sadly. “I wasn’t asking you to pay. I just asked if you wanted to come with us?” He said.

Sol noticed a strand of hair hanging in front of your face so reached a gentle hand up to brush it aside, tucking the strand behind your ear. “I’ll pay. You know I’ll always take care of you, ______.” He reminded you with a kind smile that made your heart flutter. It was something he always told you, you weren’t sure why he was so kind to you when you had nothing to offer him in return. You were a broke college student who couldn’t even cook your own meals. A faint blush dusted your cheeks as you shyly looked away, “O..okay. Then yes, I want to go.” You shyly said as you tugged at the sleeves of your favorite jacket.

“Alright, good. Here I’ll carry your bag. Hyugo should be waiting at the entrance.” Sol said, taking your bag from you with a swift motion. You tried to protest but he was already walking ahead so you were more focused on catching up to him.

The walk to the arcade didn’t take long, but you were shivering from the cold winter breeze. Sol noticed you shivering and he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, bringing you close to him. You looked up at him before looking away shyly. Once inside the arcade, the three of you played games for some time. You pointed at a claw machine, wanting to win the cute cat plushie, you tapped at the glass before looking back up at Sol with big pleading eyes. “Aw, it's so cute. Do we have enough coins to win it?” You asked excitedly. Sol patted his pockets and sighed, shaking his head. “No, but I can go get some more if you’d like?” He asked, he just wanted to see you happy.

Hyugo nodded, “Yeah let’s play some more games! Oh, let’s get some food too. I’m starving!” He exclaimed, nudging Sol’s side. Sol looked at you, waiting for your answer. “That sounds good to me. While you two do that, I’m going to head to the bathroom. I’ll meet you back here.” You said. The pair nodded and with that you went your separate ways.

You found the restroom. It was located in the back of the arcade and once done, you hummed quietly as you made your way back to the claw machine with the plushie you wanted. But you unbeknownst drew unwanted attention to yourself; you hadn’t even stepped a few feet back out of the bathroom when you were immediately cornered by a much taller and bigger man than yourself. He backed you in between two large pinball machines, leaving you trapped. “Hey sexy. You got a boyfriend?” He slurred, it was obvious he was drunk. He had both of his arms on either side of your head so you could barely move. “Not interested.” You spat as you tried pushing him away, but to no avail. That seemed to only anger him more as he lowered his face to be at eye level with you. “Come on, don’t be like that. I’ll treat you nicely.” He said, though this time his voice was much darker. The stench of alcohol lingered with every breath he took. You turned your face to the side, but that seemed to only anger him and this time he grabbed your jaw roughly in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

“Don’t turn away, sweetheart. Just come on let me sh—“ he began, but suddenly his hand was ripped away from your face and you closed your eyes, fully expecting to get hit. You heard shouting and skin hitting skin, you still kept your eyes shut, flinching with every sound. The noise of the arcade was too loud and you slid down the wall, covering your face with your hands as you buried your face against your knees.

“Don’t you fucking touch her! I’ll kill you!” You heard a familiar voice shout, it was then you uncovered your face and your eyes widened in shock as you saw Sol fighting with the man, both with bloody noses. Hyugo pulled Sol away while a random person held back the other man. The two men were still shouting curses at one another, though you were so overwhelmed you could barely understand what they were saying. You noticed Hyugo was having trouble holding back Sol, so you quickly scrambled to your feet and stepped in front of the dark haired man, pressing your hands against his chest. “Sol! *Enough!*” you pleaded, tears forming in your eyes. The drunk man had lost his balance at some point and fell to the floor, but he was still threatening you and Sol. The man called you every name in the book, and he was mocking you - but you didn’t care. You just wanted to get out of here. There was a terrifying look in Sol’s scarlet eyes and it turned your blood cold. “Sol *please,* let’s just go.” You pleaded with him once again.

As soon as Sol heard your voice waver, he stopped and his eyes widened in a mixture of horror and guilt as he realized that you were crying. He cupped your face in his hands, shaking his head, “No, no, no. Please don’t cry. I’m done. We can go.” He said in a panic, “He didn’t hurt you, right? He didn’t touch you?” He asked. You shook your head, “No. I’m okay.” You reassured him, just wanting to leave. Your lip quivered as you looked up at him and you simply nodded, taking his hand in yours as you dragged him out of the arcade. Though when Sol was certain you weren’t looking, he turned back to the man and spat at him before he followed you out.

Once outside you wiped your tears away with your jacket sleeve, smearing your makeup a bit in the process, but you didn’t care. You didn’t dare let go of Sol’s hand, afraid that if you did he would turn back and actually kill the man. Hyugo sighed, rubbing his temples, “We should leave before the cops get called.” He mumbled. Sol clicked his tongue in annoyance, “We didn’t do anything wrong. That low life touched ______. I just defended her.” He spat back. You tugged Sol’s hand, “I want to go home.” You sniffled. “I’ll walk her home. You go ahead, Hyugo.” He said. The blue haired man raised a brow, by the way he looked at his friend you sensed that maybe he didn’t want to leave him alone. “You’ll call right? As soon as you dropped ______ off at home?” He asked, his brows furrowing.

Sol had already wrapped his arm around your waist, your and his backpack slung over his shoulders. “Yeah, I will. See you later.” He said pulling you along to walk off in the other direction. Hyugo just nodded watching as you two walked off.

Sol didn’t let go of your waist for the whole walk home, he held you protectively, glaring at anyone who looked in your general direction. Once you arrived back at your apartment you fished around in your jacket pocket for your keys, eventually finding them and unlocking the door. “Do..do you want to come in?” You asked Sol shyly. You were really inviting him inside! He felt his heart skip a beat and he swallowed nervously, “Sure.” He smiled and stepped inside after you, setting down the bags onto a stool by the door.

You untied your sneakers and left them at the door before you looked up at the tall man. “Do you want tea? Coffee?” You asked him.

“What do you want? I can start the water.” He asked you back.

“Tea sounds good. Something relaxing.” You replied, motioning him to follow you into the kitchen. You poured water into the electric kettle on the countertop as you reached into the cabinets to grab two cups. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to change real quick.” You smiled before walking off towards your bedroom to change. Sol already knew where everything was located, so he grabbed two tea bags, setting them into the ceramic mugs as he waited for the water to boil. Then a thought ran through his mind as his hand absentmindedly rested on his front pocket. You didn’t get to eat the dinner he made you for tonight which meant you wouldn’t sleep well.

So before the water was done boiling he pulled out a small bag in his pocket, and broke apart the sleeping pill, letting it dissolve in the hot water. He just wanted to make sure that you’d be able to sleep tonight was all.

When you walked back out of your room, your tea was already made and Sol was sipping on his as he leaned against the wall. He looked at your outfit, did you wear something like that on purpose to tease him? You wore tight shorts, a tank top, your favorite jacket unzipped, and the cutest bunny shaped slippers. “Thank you so much, Sol.” You smiled at him as you held the mug in your hands and slowly sipped on it. He nodded, “Of course. Anything for you.” He said returning your smile. You chatted with him for a while it was obvious that you were just stalling, you didn’t want him to leave. You were still shaken up from earlier, from both how Sol reacted and to what may have happened if he wasn’t there to save you from that man.

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You sat on the couch, legs crossed as some random show played quietly in the background. Sol sat across from you, you both had long finished your tea. He could tell you were getting a bit more sluggish, “I’m sleepy, Sol.” You yawned. “You should go..it’s getting late. Hyugo is probably worried about you.” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your sleeve. Sol frowned, “It’s okay. I don’t mind. I want to make sure that you’re okay.” He replied back, he didn’t want to leave you alone.

“I’m okay. I just don’t want to be alone..” you sniffled. “I think someone has been breaking into my house.” You then said, flicking your gaze up to look at him with a worried expression. Sol froze, his breath hitched in his throat. “W..what? Why do you think that?” He asked, trying to remain calm. Folding your hands together in your lap, your eyes darted around before landing back on him, “Sometimes things are out of place.” Is all you said, “So please don’t leave me alone.” You then pleaded, suddenly leaning over towards him on all fours.

Sol’s eyes flickered to your face and to the gap between your shirt, he could see you weren’t wearing a bra and he shifted awkwardly in his spot on the couch as he tried to remaining eye contact with you. Placing a hand over his crotch, he let out a cough, a dark red blush making its way to his pale features. “Okay. I won’t. I’ll stay as long as you want me to.” He responded, a look of desperation in his eyes. You smiled, feeling butterflies in your stomach when he said those words. Then your mind wandered back to the dream you had last night, you sat back legs now folded underneath you.

“Can you come lay down with me in bed?” You asked him, looking away shyly. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stay up much longer. Plus it’s more comfortable than staying out here.” You added. Sol found it hard to even speak now, he nodded and bit his lip. You stood up and began to walk towards your bedroom, turning off the lights along the way. Before you rounded the corner you noticed that he was still sitting on the couch, “Are you coming? You don’t have—“ you began only to be cut off by him springing up, “I am.” He mumbled shyly as he followed you into your familiar bedroom.

Your bedsheets were messily strewn about on your bed, like always. Clothes tossed haphazardly throughout the room, he watched as you shrugged off your jacket, tossing it on the vanity chair and you kicked off your slippers. You crawled into bed, pulling the sheets over your cold body. “What do you usually wear to sleep, Sol?” You asked him curiously, waiting for him to come lay down as yet another yawn left you.

“My..boxers.” Sol replied shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he avoided your cute gaze. “You can sleep like that here. I don’t mind.” You mumbled motioning with your hand for him to come lay down. “A-are you sure?” He stammered, already unbuckling his belt, his hands shaking a bit in anticipation. “Mhm.” You hummed reassuringly, squeezing your legs together tightly. Sol wasted no time in taking off his clothes, it was a shame the room was so dimly lit so you couldn’t see him. He sat at the edge of the bed, still unsure of what he needed to do.

You tugged at his wrist, “Lay down with me. Under the blankets.” You encouraged him in a sleepy voice. He let you pull him down onto the bed, his heart was racing so fast he found it hard to breathe. As you both now laid under the covers he could feel your body heat, you were so close to him. Your bed wasn’t big by any means, so your bodies were practically touching. “I really like you, Sol.” You suddenly said, you weren’t sure why you blurted that out, maybe it was your drowsy drugged state that made you say something you didn’t mean to.

Sol’s eyes widened in shock as he turned his head to face you. He could make out your soft features from the dim city streetlights that peaked through the curtains. Your hand now was on his chest, you could feel how fast his heart was beating. “You take care of me. You’re so kind. I’ve never had anybody care for me like you do.” You mumbled, leaning over until your noses touched.

Sol raised a shaking hand to cup your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I’ll always take care of you, ______. I’ll be here. No matter what.” He whispered back. His words were so kind and gentle, yet there was darkness in which he spoke. You blushed and looked away, your eyes closing shut as you finally closed the distance between your lips. You were a bit unsure on how to kiss him, not wanting to mess with his lip rings too much, but as soon as your lips met something clicked inside the raven haired man.

He returned your kiss desperately, not wanting to stop. Were you really doing this? Was this seriously happening?! He thought. It was a shame you were half asleep, but it still didn’t stop you from your next move. You rolled onto of him, your legs straddling his waist as you cupped his face in your hands, kissing him with inexperience. It wasn’t like Sol minded though, he was also just as inexperienced. His hands were on your waist, fingernails digging into your soft skin as he let out a needy whimper when he felt you grinding against his dick.

“Do you like me, Sol?” You asked him, breaking away from the kiss for a few moments as you continued to grind against him. When he took too long to answer you paused and lifted yourself up about to get up. Feeling utterly rejected by him, humiliated. But his hands slammed you back down on top of him. A crazed look on his face, “Y-yes I do. I like you. You’re my soulmate, ______.” He desperately spoke, his eyes flickering trying to read your expression. All you heard was “yes”, as you began to fade in and out of consciousness, despite desperately trying to stay awake.

“G..good.” You mumbled against his lips, beginning to grind against him again as you cupped his face. Sol returned your kisses as he let out whiny moans of your name, begging you for more. He wanted to feel your pussy, god knows how long he had waited to fuck you. His hands let go of your hips and now tugged at the waistband of his boxers. He managed to slip them off and when he felt how wet your panties were a pathetic whimper left his lips. He pushed your panties aside and now he could really feel how wet your pussy was. His dick pushed between your folds, you shivered as you felt his tip slide over your clit. “S-sol.” You whimpered his name.

Oh god, just you saying his name so lewdly was almost enough to push him over the edge. “A-ah.” He cried out as he felt your pace quicken. He loved the way you were using him, like he was nothing more than a toy for you to hump to reach your orgasm. The head of his dick was so sensitive and he felt your clit rubbing against it. “I..I’m gonna cum.” He warned you. Sol’s fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs as he bucked his hips upward. “I-I wanna fuck you…please. Feel your pussy…please.” He begged, biting your lip. But you ignored him continuing to grind against his hard dick as your moans became a bit louder, your thighs shaking. You could feel yourself about to cum, but Sol suddenly let out a yell. “A-ah ahh ______.” He cried as his hot cum shot out. He threw his head back, eyes squeezing shut as tears pooled in the corner of them, his back arched, and fingernails scratching your thighs enough to leave a mark and draw some blood. His body shook under yours.

You felt the warm sensation rising from your core, your clit becoming more sensitive by the seconds. Sol’s thick cum now providing more lubrication. His whimpering of your name and pleading was enough to push you over the edge and moments later you joined him in his orgasm. You cried out his name as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, holding onto him tightly as you rode out your orgasm. Honestly you weren’t sure if you were or not, your mind was so hazy. Then you suddenly came to a stop, your body shaking a bit as your eyes closed shut.

Sol caught his breath, his hands rubbed up and down your back and he realized you had fallen asleep. The medicine had taken its full effect. He wrapped his arms tightly around you pressing a kiss on top of your head a content smile on his lips. “You’re mine. Mine…you’ll never have to be alone again.” He mumbled against your hair. His scarlet eyes gazing at the ceiling as you were fast asleep against his chest. At some point he fell asleep still holding onto you, with his dick between your thighs.

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You had awoken the next morning a bit groggy, you realized you were in bed with someone and you stared down in horror as you realized that you had slept with Sol. You only remembered bits and pieces of the nights before, and your sticky panties confirmed that you two had been intimate in some way. You wiggled out of his strong arms as quietly as you could and rushed to the bathroom, grabbing your phone careful to not wake him up.

After you cleaned yourself up and changed, you sat on the ledge of the bathtub typing away rapidly on your phone.

Crowe I NEED YOU NOW!!!!

What’s up? You okay?

NOOO. I think I just messed up. I think I ruined a friendship.

Woah calm down, ______. Is this about him?

YES. Can we meet up at the cafe? Please. Right now.

Yes. I’ll be there in a few.

Thanks.

With that you clicked your phone shut and quickly got dressed into your clothes from yesterday, not wanting to disturb Sol’s sleep. You peeked into your room and still saw him resting. You left the house getting your wallet and keys and tossing them into your jacket.

Sol woke up not long after you had left the house and when he didn’t feel your presence he immediately shot up in bed, panic beginning to set in. Where were you?! He grabbed his phone getting ready to dial your number when he saw a text appear on the screen.

I’ll be back soon. :3

He calmed down a bit, laying the phone in his lap as he ran a hand through his messy hair. Why didn’t you tell him you had somewhere to go? Why would you leave alone in the morning after everything that had happened last night? It was then he felt a bit angry, wondering why you were sneaking around. Snatching his phone back up he called you but you kept ignoring his calls, finally though you answered.

“Hello.” Your voice came through on the other end, there was also another voice on the other end too. It was one he recognized. It was Crowe. He felt himself grow even more angry as jealousy filled him. Why the hell are you with him?!

“Who are you with?” Sol asked, his voice as sickly sweet.

“Shhhh be quiet. Yeah, hi Sol, I’m with a friend. Don’t worry, I’ll be back home soon.” He heard you shushing Crowe. His grip tightened on the phone, if he squeezed any harder he may have shattered the screen. “When will you be back? Where are you?” He asked, this time his tone wasn’t as sweet.

“Sol…please don’t worry about it. I promise I’ll be back home soon. I gotta go.” You reassured him before hanging up.

Sol was furious, he slammed the phone face down onto the night stand, the glass screen shattering. Why is he interfering? Why does she keep hanging out with him? Doesn’t he know ______’s mine?! So many jealous thoughts flowed through his head as he quickly got dressed. He freshened himself up before he left your apartment, storming on the busy streets. What you hadn’t known was that Sol had installed a tracker on your phone many nights ago. He was really trying to give you the chance to tell him where you were without having to resort to using the tracker, but you wouldn’t tell him. He had no other choice but to use it, and make sure you were okay. He had to make sure that filthy Crowe wasn’t touching you. And he needed to show the brunet who you belonged to.

It was a rainy day and he didn’t care if he got wet, he was determined to find out where you were. The tracker led him to a busy coffee shop where he saw you and Crowe sitting near the window. His scarlet eyes met bright blue ones, belonging to the last person he wanted to see. Sol’s eyes narrowed, and all the brunet did was return a sly smirk before mouthing something to you. You whipped your head around just as Sol stormed into the coffee shop, immediately making his way to the table you two sat at. He tried to maintain his composure, his chest rising with every deep breath he took as he glared at the man sitting across from you.

“Sol? H-How did you know I was here?” You asked him in shock. He ignored your question continuing to glare daggers at Crowe, who sipped on his coffee nonchalantly. “Hey there. Care to join us?” He asked with a polite smile, motioning with his hand to the available seat.

“No. ______, we’re going home. Now.” Sol demanded, now turning to look at you. He grabbed your wrist and you tried to jerk away, “Ow, Sol!” You cried out, which caused him to immediately drop your hand. “Are you okay?” He asked, his angry expression now etched into worry. You frowned, rubbing your wrist, “Y..yeah. I told you I’d be gone later. Please stop this.” You pleaded, looking at him with big eyes.

“You should be gentle with her, Sol.” Crowe scolded half heartedly. “______, you should go. Don’t keep him waiting. We can talk soon, I have to get to work anyways.” He smiled warmly at you.

“But I—“ you stammered, but the brunet cut you off with a wave. “Seriously, it’s fine. Just remember what we talked about, okay?” He winked, it was purposeful, he was trying to get under Sol’s skin and it was working.

Sol grabbed your wrist a bit more gently this time as you stood up, “We’re leaving. Bye.” He spat, glaring at the man as he dragged you out of the coffee shop. All the while Crowe watched with furrowed brows and a forced smile. He didn’t like Sol, he didn’t like him at all. But whatever made you happy, he’d tolerate.

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Sol was dragging you down the street as you squirmed under his tight grasp on your wrist. The whole time you demanded to know what had gotten into him! This wasn’t the Sol you knew. Ever since the arcade, you noticed a sudden shift in his personality, it was instantaneous. As you two arrived back at your apartment, he shoved you inside with a forceful hand, slamming and locking the door shut. “What the hell is wrong with you, Sol?!” You screamed at him as you tossed your phone, keys, and wallet onto the kitchen counter.

Sol’s eyes were narrowed still as he walked towards you, instinctively you stumbled backwards until you found yourself with your back pinned against the wall with nowhere to go. His tall frame towering above you. “What’s wrong with me? You’re the one sneaking around with that bastard.” He hissed as he slammed his palms on either side of your head, pinning you between his arms. “I’ve tolerated him long enough. Doesn’t he know you belong to me?! I’m the one that’s caring for you and protecting you. While he does nothing.” He snapped angrily.

You cowered beneath him, beginning to grow a bit scared, “Y-you’re scaring me, Sol.” You whimpered. He clicked his tongue in annoyance; he didn’t like you pretending to be innocent in all of this. Perhaps you and that bastard needed reminding of who you belonged to. Sol crashed his lips against yours roughly, you felt his tongue trace the bottom of your lip. But when you were tightening your lips together to deny him, he bit your lip causing your lips to part open in surprise and with that his pierced tongue forced its way into your mouth. One hand on your jaw forcing your head to tilt up. You tasted like coffee and sugar, he didn’t mind at all though. It suited you.

You cried against him. He was being so forceful it was terrifying. He pulled away panting heavily, a string of saliva connecting your and his lips. His hand was still firmly holding your chin. “I don’t think you realize, dear. That you’re mine. No one else can have you. Ever. I won’t allow it.” He muttered. He noticed that your eyes were watery and a sympathetic smile made its way to his pierced lips. “Aww..please don’t cry, baby. I don’t want to make you cry. I promise I’ll make you feel good. You just need to be reminded that you’re mine.” He said in a gentle voice as his thumb wiped away your tears.

“I’m scared.” You whimpered.

Sol leaned down to press a much more gentle kiss to your lips, “You won’t be for long. You’ll be feeling so good in a minute.” He purred and with that he picked you up holding you so gently in his arms bridal style as he continued to kiss your lips. Once inside the bedroom he tossed you onto the bed and hovered over you beginning to tug at the waistband of your pants. “N-no Sol.” You whined but your arousal said otherwise. The truth was you were so turned on by him. You had wanted him in this way for so long.

Sol ignored your pleas and within a couple minutes he had you stripped of your clothes. You laid on your back on the bed as you looked at his nearly naked body, he stood only in his boxers. And now with the sun peeking through the blinds basking the room in a bright light you saw just how big Sol was. His body was well toned, just perfect. You saw the erection in his pants and you swallowed nervously at just how big he was. You weren’t sure if he was even fully hard yet.

You didn’t get to stare at him for too long though as he got to his knees, kneeling in front of your legs. “I’m going to make you feel so good dear. You won’t ever think of anyone else but me.” He said it almost came out as a warning. His slender hands pushed your legs apart and the look of pure lust was on his face. You tried to cover yourself up with your hands but he wouldn’t let you. “So pretty.” He whispered. God, he dreamt for so long to be buried between your thighs eating you out.

You jumped when you felt Sol’s tongue licking your pussy, the muscle dragging slowly between the slit. You felt the cold metal piercing drag along sending a shiver up your spine. He let out a moan as he tasted you. God, you tasted better than he could have ever imagined. He pushed your legs further apart and spread open your pussy, you squirmed a bit at being so exposed. Your hands balled up the fabric of the bed sheet beneath you as you felt the ball of his piercing roll over your clit, causing you to let out a loud moan. You knew you messed up when you gave him that reaction, because he immediately began to suck at your sensitive clit, rolling his piercing over it every single time causing you to moan louder. His tongue moving from teasing your clit to probing your wet hole. He wanted to taste every bit of you, this was pure bliss for the raven haired man.

“So good.” Sol praised. It was hard to focus as he sucked the sensitive bud, your head spinning as your legs quivered. He wouldn’t let you close your legs, no matter how much you tried. His tongue worked so expertly, he knew exactly how to get you whimpering under him. “Sol!” You yelped when you felt his tongue enter you, causing your hips to buck and your back to arch. It was such a strange feeling but god it felt so good. He was trying to fuck you with his tongue. Your hands tangled in his dark loose hair as you tilted his head back up to focus on your clit. “I-I’m gonna..” you gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as the warm sensation began to build more and more. Your breathing became more frantic and with another roll of his pierced tongue against your clit, your legs closed, Sol’s face still between your thighs as you held him there cumming all over his face. You were practically screaming his name as he continued to suck on your overstimulated clit. You begged him to stop, so he did and instead decided to clean you up.

Sol’s tongue lapped up every last bit of your juices, you tasted so amazing. He was drunk off of your scent—taste. Everything about you drove him crazy. He could spend the rest of his life buried between your thighs, licking your pussy and letting you cum all over his face. He was yours to use. “N-no more. Please.” You begged, your body falling limp.

Sol gave you one last taste, his tongue swiping up the full length of your pussy before he sat up. He licked his wet lips, “See..I’m the only one who can make you feel this good, dear.” He said matter of factly. He stood up pulling down his boxers revealing his hard dick. When you looked at him you nearly choked on your own spit. How the hell were you supposed to take him? He hadn’t stretched you out with his fingers to prepare you. “I-I can’t take you without—“ you began. But Sol leaned forward kissing you, shutting you up. “It’s okay. I’ll be slow.” He mumbled against your lips.

His tall frame towered above you, it was so intimidating, the way he looked at you with half lidded eyes and a small smile on his face. His arms were on either side of you pinning you between him. You felt the tip of his dick poke at your entrance. Sol continued to gently kiss you as he pushed himself inside you, he let out quiet whimpers as slowly filled you up. His body shuddered at the sensation, your tight pussy was everything he had ever dreamed off. “Fuck…oh god you feel so good, ______.” He moaned as he sat up now. Placing his hands on your inner thighs, he spread your legs apart as far as he could without hurting you. He wanted to see how well you took him.

Inch by inch Sol sank into you, it was agonizing how slow he went but by the look on his face he was savoring every moment. He was panting quietly trying to control himself, he did want to hear his soulmate after all. You squirmed under his strong grasp as he filled you up beyond belief. You weren’t ready to take him, he was so big it hurt. “S-Sol.” You cried, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you felt the tip hit deep inside, causing you to flinch in pain.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so well, dear.” He praised you. And without warning Sol snapped his hips back and slammed back into you, causing you to yelp. He couldn’t resist himself as he began to roughly fuck you. His fingernails digging into the soft skin of your thighs and quiet moans left him. He stayed quiet because he wanted to hear your sweet sounds.

He watched the face you made as every single time he hit that sweet spot of your pussy. The way your lips parted as you moaned his name and the how your back arched as he fucked you. The way your breasts bounced up and down with each thrust. He noticed the creamy white ring forming on the base of his cock. You felt so perfect, it was as if..”We were made for each other, ______.” He whispered. Sol let go your thighs, confident that you’d keep your legs spread out. He now cupped your breasts, fingertips lightly teasing your perked nipples as he watched you shudder under his touch.

Sol frowned, “Something’s missing.” He said in between pants as he continued to relentlessly fuck you. His pace was not slowing down at all, you were exhausted already, your pussy ached from how hard he was slamming into you. You weren’t sure you’d even be able to walk in the morning. “W-what?” You asked confused by what he meant but he didn’t answer you, instead leaned down to bite your neck. You cried out in surprise. He actually bit you. He nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin on your neck, not caring if he hurt you. After all, everyone needed to know you were his.

Your hands tangled in his hair as you squeezed your eyes shut, tears now running down your face. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he slipped one hand between your thighs. You body twitched when you felt the pad of thumb rub your clit, all the while he never stopped fucking and marking you. He let out a low laugh when he felt your body twitch underneath him.

Sol could tell you were close to coming, by how your breathing became more erratic, how you held him closer. “Are you going to cum for me, dear?” He asked. You didn’t say anything, which annoyed the dark haired man. He sat up, ripping himself from your grasp and stopped rubbing circles against your sensitive clit. “You need to answer me.” He growled and just to emphasize the point, he pulled nearly all the way out before he snapped his hips forward. You cried loudly, biting your lip and nodding eagerly, “Y-yes. I wanna cum for you, Sol.” You whimpered, looking up at him with the cutest expression.

Sol smiled lovingly at you, satisfied with your answer, “You’re so cute when you beg, dear.” He spoke gently and with that he returned to stimulating your clit. Your mind was hazy as you felt your orgasm building up, you were only focused on one thing and that was coming. Your hands reached up to dig their fingernails in the skin of his bicep. “You’re so close. I can tell. Just cum for me. Please. I want to feel it so bad.” Sol begged in a whiny, desperate tone as he quickened his pace. And just like that you practically screamed his name, your body shaking as you came around his cock.

You orgasming and screaming his name was the most beautiful thing Sol had ever witnessed. He had dreamt of this moment for so long, it was better than he could ever imagine. He felt your pussy tighten around him and soon after he was coming too. Sol threw his head back as his dick twitched, coating your insides with thick cum. He was buried deep inside you, holding your thighs firmly so he could adequately fill you up. “You’re so beautiful. So pretty, full of my cum.” He mumbled, gazing down at you now.

Sol gently pushed your legs apart as he pulled out of you and watched in awe as his cum leaked out of your tight pussy. It was a heavenly sight. He sighed in satisfaction, flopping down onto the bed as he wrapped his arms around your tired body, pulling you onto his chest. You buried your face into the crook of his neck as you clung into him tightly. “No one will ever make you feel this good, dear. You were made for me. We’re soulmates.” Sol said barely above a whisper as he gazed at the white ceiling. “You’re mine. I won’t ever let anyone come between us. Ever. I love you so much, ______.” He said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His embrace tightening around you when he said that.

There was something threatening about the way Sol spoke. You were a bit scared, but you had no reason to be, right? He just loved you and you loved him. “I love you, Sol.” You sniffled. Sol just smiled at your words. He finally had you all to himself.

[christronomy]

channie was soooo surprised when he heard you talking dirty for the first time. he's usually the talkative one in bed, always the one who showers you with compliments, telling you how good you feel while he pounds into you. he can really get so into it, and he goes into detail, describing how tight you feel, sometimes he'll tell you how it looks when he fucks you by the mirror in your shared bathroom. "you're clamping down on me so fucking tight, baby... take it so well."

but he's so impressed when you start picking up on it, because he's never heard you say anything so filthy. if anything, you always got extremely flustered when he talked like that, and you had to cover your face with your hands cause of how red you got. you really caught him off gaurd one day in particular—he had you bent over the edge of the mattress, hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark. he'd stuffed your underwear in your mouth to muffle your moans cause the boys were over, but you couldn't help the way your hands instinctively shot up to pull it away when he grabbed a fistful of your hair, gently tugging on it and pulling your head back enough to watch your fucked out expression. "fuck... you're so deep inside me, channie... so big..."

it caught him so off guard that he couldn't help but cum, a soft chuckle and a "fuck, baby..." leaving his lips as his palm covers your mouth to make you shut up, cause you definitely said that a little too loud, but it's not like he wasn't extra loud when he came anyways.

[vibelladonna]

❛ 𝒷𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓀 ❜ 𝜗𝜚 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝓍 𝑔𝓃!𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Solivan Brugmansia, or just Sol, a super mysterious artist who kinda blends the lines between being the creator and the creation himself. His piercing eyes and his quirky style pull you into his world of raw creativity and quiet intensity.

When you're invited to his studio to complete a college art project, you’ll be sucked into his art, his silence, and that eerie feeling that he sees way more of you than you expected. The real challenge? Keep your focus on your brushwork.

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓈: Fem Body! Reader, Forced Proximity, Domestic Fluff (At the start), Artistic Passion, Obsessive Behavior, non-consensual, unwanted touching, grinding, dubious consent, predatory behavior, penetration, very rough sex, whiny submissive Sol at one point and dominant Sol at another point, same goes to you—reader as well, and somewhat long ass word count—I got carried away, took two days straight to write—I’m so so sorry.

I honestly wasn’t planning on writing Sol because, let’s face it, he already gets plenty of love from the fandom (and, not gonna lie, he scares me—a LOT). That said, I still love his character design and how he was created! But someone asked for more, so here we are. I’ll be putting together a master list soon and opening up requests since I wasn’t expecting so much love for my Crowe fanfic. Seriously, thank you! Anyway, hope you enjoy reading this one!

You stood outside the apartment door, the faint hum of the building’s creaky pipes filling the silence. A faint scent of paint and something sweet—floral, maybe—escaped through the crack at the base of the door. Your fist hovered briefly before you knocked, your knuckles rapping gently against the wood.

You'd come here to his apartment for a college project on Expressionism, drawn by his reputation as the quiet genius in your class. The space was a living embodiment of his mind—a sanctuary of creativity and controlled chaos. Canvases leaned against walls, his surfaces erupting with bold strokes and raw emotion. The air hummed faintly, tinged with the smell of oil paint, charcoal, and the faintest trace of something floral—perhaps the namesake of the mysterious Solivan Brugmansia—Sol for short. 

There was a pause. The sound of footsteps approached, deliberate and unhurried, before the door clicked open.  

Sol stood there, framed by his apartment’s warm, ambient light. His black hair, streaked with vibrant green, gleamed faintly, catching the dim overhead light. The half-up, half-down style gave his sharp features an ethereal quality, the long central streak of hair falling between his orange and crimson eyes while two smaller strands framed his face.  

Today, he was dressed as part of the canvas he worked on. A black shirt, fitted but comfortable, paired with matching pants, both splattered with faint remnants of past creative frenzies. Over this, he wore a painting apron streaked with the vibrancy of forgotten colors—a kaleidoscope of blues, yellows, and pinks. It looked almost ceremonial, as though he were a priest of Expressionism itself. 

“Hey,” Sol said, his voice soft but resonant, as if each word had been weighed and measured before leaving pierced lips. He stepped aside, gesturing you in.  

You entered cautiously, suddenly hyperaware of how much space you were occupying. Sol’s apartment was an eclectic mix of chaos and artistry. The walls were lined with shelves stuffed with books, jars of brushes, and sketchpads in various stages of use. Canvases leaned haphazardly against one wall, his surfaces alive with strokes of vibrant, chaotic color.

A large easel stood in the corner by a wall, its frame splattered with years of paint, and next to it was a table strewn with tubes of oil paint, jars of water, and what looked like a half-finished sculpture.  

The furniture was minimal but intentional. A worn, paint-streaked couch sat across from a low coffee table, which had been overtaken by sketchbooks and coffee mugs. The faint glow of string lights wound around the ceiling added warmth, softening the industrial feel of the concrete floors.  

Sol closed the door behind you, the lock clicking faintly. “Shoes off, please,” He said, his gaze flicking briefly to your feet. He was wearing socks, his black shirt, and matching pants, giving them a striking silhouette beneath the paint-streaked apron he wore. “Do you always live like… this?” you asked, gesturing vaguely at the organized chaos.  

Sol glanced around as if seeing the space through your eyes for the first time. “It’s functional,” He said simply, before pulling a stool toward the easel and sitting. “I know where everything is.” He reached for a brush, spinning it absently between his fingers. “Did you bring the sketches?” You nodded, pulling a folder from your bag. “Yeah. I mean, they’re rough. I wasn’t sure if they’d fit the theme.” You hesitated before handing them over.  

Sol didn't say anything right away. Instead, he put the brush down and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he flipped through your work. His gaze was intense, those fiery eyes scanning each page with a focus that made you feel bare.

His eyes were a masterpiece in themselves, an intense study of Central Heterochromia: an inner ring of burning orange encircled by an outer hue of crimson red. When he looked at you, it felt as though he were dissecting your very soul, layer by delicate layer.

“This one,” Sol said finally, tapping one of the sketches. It was an abstract piece—a swirl of jagged lines and harsh shading. “It’s raw. Honest. Use this as your foundation.”  

“Really?” You leaned closer, your shoulder brushing his accidentally. Sol didn’t pull away. “I wasn’t sure if it was too… messy.”  

“That’s the point,” Sol said, his voice quiet but firm. He set the folder aside and stood, moving toward the table where his paints were arranged. “Expressionism isn’t about clean lines. It’s about emotion. About what’s inside.” He picked up a palette, his long fingers deftly squeezing out colors in no particular order. “You brought what’s inside. I’ll help you pull it out.”  You couldn’t help but watch as he moved, each action deliberate and fluid.

“So… how do we start?” You asked.

Sol turned to you, the faintest trace of a smile playing at his lips. "You start by not overthinking. Paint what you feel. I'll be here if you need guidance."  He handed you a brush, his fingers brushing yours for just a moment before pulling away. "The colors are ready. Paint whatever you like.”

For a moment, the only sound was the hum of the lights and the soft beat of your heart. Something in his presence was grounding, even as his piercing gaze seemed to strip you down to your essence. You took a deep breath and stepped toward the easel, the weight of Sol's quiet encouragement settling on your shoulders. "All right," you said, gripping the brush a little tighter.

"Let's do this.” You added.

Sol’s eyes followed your every movement, unblinking and intent. The way your hand gripped the brush—a touch too tight, almost desperate—and the soft inhale you took before the bristles kissed the canvas was enough to captivate him.

To Sol, it was as though he was watching the birth of a masterpiece, even if the real art hadn’t yet materialized on the canvas. He was utterly mesmerized, a silent spectator to something far beyond mere paint and pigment.  

Then, in a sudden, mischievous shift, you dipped your brush into a light green on the palette and, without hesitation, swiped it across his cheek. The coolness of the paint startled him, his eyes widening as he froze in place. For a beat, Sol said nothing, stunned into stillness. Then, slowly, a small smile began to tug at the corner of his mouth, the icy veneer of his composure cracking ever so slightly.  

He raised an eyebrow, amusement glimmering in his crimson-and-orange gaze. “Really?” he asked, his voice carrying the faintest undercurrent of a chuckle as he wiped at his cheek with his fingers. “Was that necessary?”  

As he spoke, his hand casually reached for another brush, dipping it into a bold shade of red.  

Your grin widened at his reaction, a playful spark lighting your eyes. “Necessary?” you teased, tilting your head. “Maybe not. But it was definitely worth it. Besides,” you added, twirling your brush between your fingers, “your reaction was priceless.”  

Sol’s smirk deepened, his eyes narrowing as though calculating his next move. He leaned forward slightly, closing the space between you as the red-tipped brush hovered just inches from your skin. “You’re asking for it now,” he said softly, his tone playful but laced with a subtle edge. “Challenging an artist in his territory? Bold move.”  

Your heart skipped at the proximity, but you held your ground. Meeting his gaze with equal intensity, you let your smirk turn sly. “Oh, I’m not just asking for it,” you quipped, your voice low and teasing. “I’m daring you to try.”  

Sol’s eyes darkened, his playful expression giving way to something more intense, almost… predatory.

The brush in his hand swayed, the paint clinging to the tip as it hovered closer to your face. His voice dropped to a whisper, sending a shiver through you. “You don’t even know what you’re playing at,” he murmured, his lips curving into a slow, wicked smile.  

Then, with a sudden and deliberate movement, he swiped the red paint across the bridge of your nose. The cool sensation made you blink in surprise, but the shock quickly melted into a laugh. You reached for another brush, dipping it into a rich green. “Rules, you say?” you said with mock defiance, a glint of mischief dancing your eyes. “But isn’t breaking them half fun?”  

You drew the brush across the canvas instead of retaliating directly, your strokes bold and deliberate. Sol’s eyes flicked between the emerging shapes and your determined expression, his lips twitching with a mix of admiration and confusion.

A low chuckle rumbled from his throat, the sound rich and unexpected, sending a pleasant chill down your spine. “You’re not only cheeky,” he said, watching the paint flow in deliberate curves. “You’ve got the right attitude for this. Art isn’t about staying in lines—it’s about breaking through boundaries.”  

His words carried a teasing edge, but beneath them was a subtle warmth, an acknowledgment of your courage and creativity. Still, as his gaze lingered on you, there was a flicker of something unreadable in his expression.  

“Careful, though,” he added softly, a smirk creeping back to his lips. “You might end up inspiring me more than the canvas.” The tension hung in the air like a taut string, electric and alive, as the two of you exchanged another glance.  

You noticed the way Sol cast fleeting glances, darting his eyes between the canvas and your face. His expression was perfectly schooled, calm, and unreadable, but the tiniest flicker of amusement betrayed him. You knew he was holding back, his true opinion hidden behind that enigmatic smirk. Your eyes narrowed slightly, a spark of determination flaring within you as you paused your brush mid-stroke. 

You met his gaze with a sly smile, your voice dripping with playful accusation. “You’re such a liar. Just say it—I’m bad at painting.”  

Sol chuckled, a soft, throaty sound that was more amused than menacing this time. The smirk on his lips grew, and he didn’t bother to hide it as he leaned slightly against the edge of the table. “All right,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “The truth? You’re terrible at painting.” Before one could object, he held up a hand, his expression mock-serious. 

"Your brushwork technique is messy, your composition is unbalanced, and your color harmony… well, let's just say it's as chaotic as your personality.” He said.

Your jaw dropped, and a flicker of indignation flashed in your eyes. But you composed yourself quickly, raising your chin in defiance. "Oh, is that right?" you retorted coolly, crossing your arms. "Well then, I suppose you think you could do a lot better."

Sol’s crimson-and-orange eyes gleamed with mischief, and he raised an eyebrow as though the answer should’ve been obvious. “Of course I could.”  

Without waiting for permission, he stepped closer to the canvas, grabbing a clean brush from the palette. He leaned forward, studying your piece intently, his head tilting just slightly as he took in every line and stroke. For a moment, he said nothing, and the quiet stretched between you. 

Then, with a smirk, he glanced back at you. “But don’t worry,” he said, dipping his brush into a pale yellow. “I’m not going to paint over your work. That would be cruel.” His tone softened slightly, almost imperceptibly, as he added, “You’ve got potential. Under the right tutelage, of course.”  

You watched as Sol began painting over the blank spaces on the canvas. His brush moved lightly, in long, deliberate strokes. Each movement was precise, controlled, and yet carried an effortless grace. His hand didn’t hesitate, the tip of the brush gliding across the fabric like it was an extension of himself.  

Your eyes drifted to his hand, caught by its hypnotic rhythm. It was larger than yours, bony yet strong, the veins along the back prominent as they flexed with the motion. The way his fingers gripped the brush with such confidence… It made you wonder, for a short second, what it might feel like if those same hands brushed against your skin instead of the canvas.  

You blinked, startled by the thought, and shook your head slightly. But your gaze returned to his hands almost immediately, as though they had a gravity of their own. Something was captivating about them—the way they moved with purpose and elegance, the way the bristles danced under his direction.  

“What?” Sol’s voice broke your trance, and you snapped your eyes up to meet his gaze. His lips curved into a teasing smile as though he’d caught you staring. “Don’t tell me I’ve already inspired awe.”  

You scoffed, rolling your eyes to cover your embarrassment. “Awe? Hardly. I’m just… observing your technique.” You gestured vaguely toward the canvas, trying to sound nonchalant. “Mm-hm,” he murmured, clearly unconvinced.

He leaned back slightly, his free hand resting on the table as he continued to paint. “So, what do you think? Learning something?”  

Your lips twitched into a small smile, your earlier indignation melting into something lighter. “Well,” you began, tilting your head, “I can see that you’re good with your hands. I’ll give you that.”  

Sol paused, glancing at you sidelong with a raised brow. His smirk deepened, taking on an almost dangerous edge. “Careful with compliments like that,” he said, his voice soft but laced with a playful warning. “You might give me the wrong idea.”  

Heat crept into your cheeks, but you held your ground, determined not to give Sol the satisfaction of flustering you. Instead, you stepped closer, the faintest hint of a challenge in your stance. “Oh, I’m sure you’re used to hearing it,” you shot back. “You’re practically begging for praise with the way you show off.”  

Sol laughed, low and rich, the sound like velvet brushing against the charged air between you. Straightening, he set his brush down and leaned slightly against the table, his gaze never leaving yours. “Maybe I am,” he admitted, his smirk widening just enough to make your pulse quicken. “But it’s working, isn’t it?”  

Your brow lifted, and you tilted your head, feigning disinterest even as you studied him. His piercing gaze, the subtle confidence in his posture, that maddening smirk—it was infuriating how self-assured he was. And yet, there was something magnetic about him, something that made it impossible to look away.  

You rolled your eyes, breaking the moment with a scoff. “Fine,” you said, lifting your brush again and stepping toward the canvas. “But don’t expect me to call you a genius. Not yet, anyway.”  

“Fair enough,” Sol replied, his voice tinged with amusement. He shifted slightly, leaning down, watching you with a quiet intensity. The air between you felt electric and playful but threaded with an undertone of something deeper, something neither of you dared to name.  

You focused on the canvas, trying to tune out the way his gaze burned into your back. But as the moments stretched, your thoughts wandered again. Did he feel it too—that spark, that pull? Or was it just your imagination running wild?  

“Do you want me to guide you?” Sol’s sudden question cut through your thoughts, startling you. You glanced over your shoulder at him, your brush hesitating mid-stroke. “Guide me?” His expression flickered with faint amusement as he straightened, stepping closer. “Your brushwork on our painting,” he clarified. “Are you sure you’re paying attention?”  

The flush on your cheeks deepened. You’d been so wrapped up in your thoughts—most of them about him—that you’d completely zoned out. Trying to cover your embarrassment, you huffed, lifting your chin slightly.  “Of course, I’m paying attention,” you retorted, though your voice betrayed you with its defensiveness. “I’ve been observing, just like you said.”  

The corner of Sol’s mouth quirked, a small, knowing smirk that sent a spark of irritation and something else through you. “Is that so?” he murmured.  

Before you could respond, he moved closer, standing just behind you. The air around you shifted, warmer now, charged with his presence. You felt the heat of his body at your back, the faint rustle of fabric as he leaned in, close enough that you could feel his breath against your ear.  

“You’re about as good at lying as you are at painting,” Sol said softly, his voice low and teasing. “You haven’t been paying attention to anything but me for the last five minutes.” Your protest died on your lips as his hand—larger, warmer—wrapped gently around yours, guiding your grip on the brush. You froze, your heart pounding as his chin rested lightly on your shoulder, the weight and proximity making it hard to breathe.  

“Okay,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost coaxing. “Just follow me.”  

Your hand moved under his guidance, the brush sweeping across the canvas in a smooth, deliberate arc. Together, you created a perfect swirl, the paint gliding like silk beneath the bristles. Your breath hitched, your gaze darting to his face out of the corner of your eye.  

Sol’s focus was entirely on the canvas, his eyes following the line of the brush with the same intensity he’d given you earlier. A faint smile ghosted across his lips as he added another gentle stroke, the motion fluid and practiced. When his gaze finally flicked to yours, the warmth in his expression sent a jolt through you.  

“Pay attention, please,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.  

You swallowed hard, trying to steady the rush of emotions his proximity stirred. But then his eyes lingered a moment too long, and a small, knowing smirk curled at the edge of his lips again. Finding a burst of courage—or recklessness—you turned your head slightly, your faces just inches apart now. “I thought you said I wasn’t paying attention,” you said, your tone playful, though your voice was softer than you intended.  

Sol’s smile deepened, his eyes flickering between yours and the canvas. “You weren’t,” he said, his breath brushing against your skin. “But maybe you’re finally getting the hang of it.” His low chuckle reverberated softly against your back, and the way his fingers guided your wrist—it was impossible not to feel the heat rising in your cheeks.  

You swallowed hard, determined to keep your focus on the canvas in front of you, but Sol's presence was utterly overwhelming. "Maybe I just needed the right tutor," you managed to say, your voice wavering just enough to betray how unsteady you felt.  

Sol let out a quiet laugh, warm and teasing. "Maybe you did," he replied, his tone carrying a playful edge. His hand adjusted slightly, guiding the brush into a smooth curve. “But you’ll need to focus for it to work.”  

Easier said than done. He leaned in closer, his chest brushing lightly against your back, his breath warm on the side of your neck. Your heartbeat hammered, your skin prickling with the awareness of how close he was. His scent—a faint mix of paint, something floral, and the slightest hint of musk—filled your senses, making it almost impossible to concentrate.  

The brush wavered slightly in your hand, the line on the canvas faltering. “Careful,” Sol murmured, his lips almost brushing your ear. “Don’t move too much. You’ll smudge our work.”  

Your grip on the brush tightened as you fought to focus, but it was no use. The combination of his steady breathing, the warmth radiating from his body, and that damn smirk you knew was probably still on his lips—it was too much. Your arm shifted slightly, your elbow bumping against his.  

Sol sighed, soft but pointed, his hand slipping away from yours. “All right,” he said, straightening up and stepping back. His tone was still calm, but there was a flicker of something firmer beneath it, something that sent a shiver down your spine. “If you can’t be still, maybe we need to change tactics.”  

You blinked, turning to face him. “What do you mean?”  

Without a word, Sol reached out, his hands firm but careful as he grasped your waist and guided you backward. Before you could process what was happening, you found yourself seated in his lap, his hands steadying you.  

Your heart nearly stopped.  

“Wha—Sol!” you sputtered, heat flooding your face as you tried to wriggle away. “Please stop moving,” he said, his voice quickly said, almost in a warming tone. His arms rested lightly on either side of you, effectively caging you in. “You said you needed the right tutor. This is part of the lesson.”  

Your protest died in your throat as you felt his breath against your ear again, his warmth surrounding you completely now. Your pulse was racing, your cheeks burning, but there was something about his calm composure—like this was the most natural thing in the world—that left you utterly speechless.  

“You’re too restless,” Sol said, his voice softer now, almost teasing. “You’re going to ruin our painting if you keep squirming.”  

“I—I’m not squirming,” you managed, though your voice betrayed you. “Sure you’re not,” he replied, his smirk practically audible. His hands moved to guide yours again, steady and sure as he returned your focus to the canvas. “Now, relax. Let me show you how it’s done.”  

Despite your flustered state, his voice and the firm yet gentle pressure of his hands steadied you, guiding the brush in smooth, deliberate strokes. The rhythm of his movements and the closeness of his presence made it impossible to think about anything else.  

As you followed his guidance, your breaths began to sync with his, the tension in your shoulders loosening slightly. His hand stayed over yours, directing the brush with practiced ease.  

“There,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “See how much better that feels?”  

You swallowed, glancing over your shoulder at him. His gaze was focused on the canvas, but the faintest smirk still played at the corner of his lips. His eyes flicked to meet yours briefly, and the intensity in them sent another wave of warmth rushing through you.  

“I think you just like being in control,” you said, trying to sound teasing, though your voice was softer than you intended.  

Sol chuckled, his breath brushing against your neck. “And I think you like making things harder than they need to be.”  

Your heart raced as his words lingered in the air, the tension between you palpable. But before you could respond, Sol’s hand guided yours in another gentle stroke, pulling your focus back to the canvas. “Now,” he said, his tone a bit more playful, “are you going to let me teach you, or do I need to keep you here until you finally pay attention?”  

The challenge in his voice made your cheeks burn even hotter, but you rolled your eyes, gripping the brush tighter. “Fine,” you muttered. “I’ll pay attention.”  

“Good,” he said, leaning slightly closer. “Because we’re not done yet.” Your pulse raced as Sol’s hands guided yours, the rhythm of the brushstrokes steady under his control. He sat perfectly at ease, holding you on his lap like it was just another part of his creative process.  

And you? You were anything but composed.  

“When doing this stroke, pay close attention,” Sol murmured again, his voice low and coaxing, his breath brushing against your ear. All you needed to do was Relax. As if you could do that when every inch of you felt like it was vibrating with awareness of him. “No pressure,” he added, his hand over yours, moving the brush in a smooth arc. “Unless you want to mess up and start over.”  

You scoffed, tilting your head just enough to glance back at him, a mischievous spark lighting your eyes. “I think you like having me mess up,” you said, your voice laced with defiance. Sol’s lips twitched into a smirk, but he didn’t take the bait. “Maybe,” he said, his tone calm and measured. “But it’s our project. If we waste more time because of you being difficult, that’s on you.”  

Something about the calm way he said it made you bristle. You shifted slightly in his lap, testing his patience as you pressed back just enough to feel the firmness of his chest against your back.  

“I’m not being difficult,” you said, your tone saccharine and falsely sweet. You turned your head more, your eyes narrowing as you added, “I just think you’re enjoying this a little too much, Sol.”  

His brow arched slightly, the only indication that you’d gotten under his skin. “Am I?” he asked, his voice still maddeningly even. But as you shifted again—this time deliberately moving in a way that pressed closer to him—you felt the way his body tensed beneath you.  

The faintest hint of red crept into Sol’s cheeks, and his hand on yours tightened slightly before releasing, his composure faltering just enough to make your lips curve into a triumphant smile.  

“See?” you said, turning fully now so you were half-facing him, still perched on his lap. “You do enjoy it.”  

His crimson-and-orange gaze flicked over you, lingering for just a moment too long before snapping back to your eyes. Something about him was... off.

Not in an unsettling way, but in a way that made your skin prickle with awareness. The piercing gaze from those luminous eyes seemed to see more of you than you intended to show. His silence spoke volumes, each glance and measured movement a language of its own.  

The way he painted and the way he carried himself made it hard to distinguish where the artist ended, and the art began. Sol wasn't just quiet. He was quiet. And in that stillness, you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame—a dangerous, beautiful thing you couldn't resist.

You noticed it then—the way his expression shifted, the way his pupils dilated slightly as he took in the way your outfit clung to you, a simple, black shirt with a matching pencil skirt, looking like a dress, more fitted than he’d probably realized earlier.  

“You’re pushing your luck,” Sol said softly, his voice carrying a warning edge. He was stiff beneath you, his posture taut, as though holding himself together with sheer willpower.  

But you weren’t backing off.  

Instead, you tilted your neck and leaned in, your face stopping mere inches from his. “Am I?” you whispered, the deliberate echo of his earlier words carrying a teasing, brash confidence.  

His reaction was almost immediate. The flush on his cheeks deepened, painting his pale skin with a rosy hue that crept to the tips of his ears. You shifted back slightly in his lap, letting your back brush against his chest, and the sudden contact made him jerk awkwardly on the stool.  

Sol swallowed hard, his hands gripping the edges of the seat as though he was anchoring himself. “Please stop,” he said, quieter this time, his voice almost a plea. But the way his molten gaze locked onto yours betrayed him—he didn’t mean it. “Aw.. Why?” you asked, tilting your head with mock innocence. “Am I distracting a great artist from his work?”  

His jaw tightened, the muscles flexing as his hands flexed on the stool. The tension radiating from him was palpable, and it only spurred you on. His composure was crumbling, piece by piece, and you were determined to break it completely.  

“You’re impossible,” Sol muttered, his voice strained.  

The triumph in your smile grew, and you leaned closer, just enough for your breath to tease the sensitive skin of his neck. “You could always make me stop,” you murmured, your voice soft and challenging.  

For a moment, Sol didn’t move, his gaze flicking between your lips and your eyes. His breathing grew heavier, each exhales brushing against your cheek. You could almost hear the war raging inside him, every bit of his control battling the undeniable pull between you.  

Then, in one swift motion, his hand slid to your waist. The firm but steady grip steadied you as he leaned forward, his lips brushing against the side of your neck in a fleeting, feather-light kiss that sent a jolt of electricity racing through you.  

Your breath hitched, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you pressed back further into him, daring him to take another step.  

Sol’s response was immediate. His teeth grazed your neck, the gentle nibble enough to leave you breathless and your pulse hammering in your ears. His other hand moved to your hip, holding you firmly in place as he pressed another kiss to your neck, this one lingering longer, his lips warm and insistent.  

“Still think I’m enjoying this too much?” he murmured, his voice rough and ragged against your skin. Your smirk faltered as heat flushed through you, your ability to respond stolen by the heady sensations he was creating.  

Sol chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your neck, sending another shiver coursing through you. “What’s the matter?” he teased, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below your ear. “You’re quiet now.”  

You swallowed hard, forcing your voice to steady. “I-I’m just giving you a chance to prove your point,” you said, though your defiance was flickering with every second.  

“Oh, I’ll prove it,” Sol murmured, his lips curving into a smirk against your skin.  

His fingers brushed the hem of your top, skimming the fabric aside to expose more of your collarbone. He continued his trail of kisses, his lips soft but deliberate, his teeth occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin and likely leaving faint red marks.  

Your breath came in shallow gasps, your mind clouded with the sensation of his mouth, his hands, and the heat of his body enveloping you. When you shifted slightly, testing his patience, Sol growled low in his throat.

He tugged you closer with a sudden movement, turning you slightly on his lap so you faced him. His hands gripped your hips, firm but careful, making sure you wouldn’t lose your balance. His body pressed flush against yours, his thighs anchoring you in place, leaving no space between you.  

The sudden awareness of your positions sent a jolt through you, the contrast between his firm frame and your softness making you hyper-aware of every point of contact. His chest brushed yours as he leaned closer, his voice low and dripping with intensity. “Was this an accident?” he asked, his gaze burning into yours. “Or was it on purpose?”  

You swallowed thickly, turning your neck behind yourself to allow your eyes to drift to the hollow of his throat. Slowly, you reached out, your index finger tracing a light, teasing path along his collarbone. “Possibly… both,” you murmured.  

His hand shot out, catching your wrist before you could trail your touch any lower. His grip was firm but not painful, his expression a mix of frustration and desire as he forced you to meet his gaze.  

“How long,” he asked, his voice dangerously soft, “are you going to keep staring at me?”  

Your lips curved into a slow, teasing smile as you tilted your head. “As long as I want to,” you said with a defiant edge. “What’s wrong? Are you going to punish me more?”  

His grip on your wrist tightened slightly, and his other hand pressed against the small of your back, holding you steady as he leaned in closer. “Don’t be cocky,” he warned, his voice dropping to a rough, predatory whisper. “You don’t want to know the kind of things I’m imagining.”  

You glanced down at the growing tension between you—at the unmistakable bulge pressing against your thigh. A flicker of boldness sparked in your expression as your fingers teased over his chest. “I think I already know,” you whispered.  

Sol’s eyes darkened, his breath hitching as he tensed beneath you. His lips brushed your ear, his voice a strained mix of frustration and want. “You’re playing with fire,” he murmured, his tone rough, almost ragged.  

Before you could form a reply, Sol leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that stole the air from your lungs. It wasn’t gentle—it was raw, demanding, and full of the hunger he’d been holding back. Your eyes widened in shock at first, the boldness of his move catching you completely off guard.  

But that shock melted quickly, replaced by an undeniable pull that made you lean into him.  

Sol’s hands moved to your hips, gripping firmly as he turned you fully to face him on his lap. The motion was smooth but decisive, his strength evident as he shifted you effortlessly. Your knees now rested on either side of his thighs, your bodies pressed flush against one another.  

The new position heightened the intensity, your chest brushing his with each labored breath. Sol’s hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, while his lips moved against yours with a hunger that left you breathless.  

You didn’t hesitate, your hands moving to the sides of his face, holding him there as you matched his fervor with your own. The kiss deepened, turning messy and desperate, your mouths moving in sync as though trying to consume each other completely.  

Sol broke away for a moment, his forehead resting against yours as he caught his breath, his eyes burning into yours with a heat that made your skin tingle. “You’re relentless,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, his fingers pressing into your lower back.  

You smirked, your lips brushing his as you replied, “And you’re loving it.”  

Before he could respond, you leaned back in, reclaiming his mouth with a force that left him no room to argue. Your hands moved instinctively, reaching behind him to untie the apron, quickly removing it from him to have a clear view of his chest.

Slowly, your index finger drags itself down his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt. The urgency of the moment consumed you, and your fingers found the buttons of his shirt, fumbling at first, then unfastening them one by one with increasing speed.  

Sol groaned softly against your lips, the sound vibrating through you and making your pulse race. His hands moved again, one slipping up to cradle the back of your head, the other gripping your waist to keep you anchored against him.  

As his shirt fell open, your hands splayed against his bare chest, your fingertips brushing over his warm skin. The contrast between the cool air and his heat sent a shiver through him, his tone muscles tensing under your touch.  

You pulled back just enough to catch your breath, your eyes raking over him as you took in the sight of his now-exposed chest. His skin was pale smooth, his collarbone pronounced, and the faint sheen of sweat glistening under the low light made him look utterly irresistible.  

Sol’s lips twitched into a smirk at your lingering gaze, though his eyes were heavy with want. “Like what you see?” he teased, though his voice was uneven, betraying his arousal.  

Instead of answering, you leaned in again, your lips finding the hollow of his throat. You pressed open-mouthed kisses down the column of his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin as your hands continued their exploration. Sol tilted his head back slightly, giving you better access as a low growl escaped him.  

“You’re insatiable,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, a wicked smile playing on your lips. “And you’re complaining?” you shot back, your tone dripping with challenge.  

Sol’s hands slid up your sides, his thumbs grazing the edge of your ribs as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing yours again. “Not a chance,” he murmured against your mouth, before pulling you into another searing kiss.  

The kiss deepened, growing more fervent with each passing second. Your fingers tangled in his hair, the strands silky yet wild, as his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him. The heat of his bare chest against yours, the intoxicating rhythm of his lips moving over yours—it was overwhelming, drowning out every thought but him. Your breaths mingled, uneven and ragged, as you both surrendered to the storm of desire building between you.  

With deliberate boldness, your hand began a slow descent, sliding over his toned stomach to the waistband of his pants. While he remained engrossed in the kiss, you let your fingers drift lower, brushing against the hardness beneath his pants. A sharp intake of breath escaped Sol’s lips, his body tensing against yours. His grip faltered briefly, but his response was immediate.  

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours, his heterochromatic eyes ablaze with unfiltered desire. His breath came in quick, shallow gasps as he tried to regain control. “You’re playing with fire,” he rasped, his voice a low, gravelly whisper, both warning and temptation.  

Instead of pulling away, his hands found your hips once more, his fingers digging in just enough to ground you, to anchor himself. He tilted his hips slightly, pressing into your touch as a shudder ran through him. His challenge hung in the air like a gauntlet thrown at your feet, daring you to keep going.  

Your lips curved into a sly smile, your voice laced with teasing defiance. “Then I’ll just have to handle the heat,” you murmured. Leaning closer, your breath ghosted over his ear as you added, “Didn’t you say I need to work on my brushwork?”  

With deliberate intent, you slid your hand along the curve of his waistband, unbuttoning his pants with practiced ease. Sol groaned low in his throat, the sound reverberating through his chest and into yours. His hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you impossibly closer as if trying to meld you into him.  

“I didn’t mean… this,” he muttered, though his tone betrayed how much he wanted it. His lips found your neck, trailing heated kisses along your skin as he fought to keep his control intact. His body trembled beneath your touch, his breath hot and ragged against your throat.  

Your hand ventured lower, and as his pants gave way, you were met with the proof of his desire. The sight of his cock—pale like his skin, flushed with need, and curve glistening pink tip—sent a wave of heat through you. You couldn’t help but marvel at him, at how his body responded so wholly to you.  

Sol groaned again, his head falling back as he fought the urge to completely unravel. “F-Fuck this shit,” he muttered, his voice hoarse and raw. 

With a sudden burst of need, he grabbed your hand, his rough fingers intertwining with yours as he guided you to his cock, wrapping your hand around it. 

His eyes burned into yours, a silent plea and a command wrapped in one. “If you’re going to do this,” he growled, “then do it right. After all, I’m the tutor,”  

The juxtaposition of his firm grip and your softer touch sent shivers through him, his body responding instinctively to your every movement. He bit back a curse, his jaw clenched, yet his eyes remained locked on yours, filled with both vulnerability and hunger as he helps you move his cock up and down.

The way his hand enveloped yours, guiding you with deliberate control, sent a jolt of heat through your body. His skin was hot beneath your palm, pulsing with need, the intensity of it making your breath hitch. The sensation of being so intimately connected, of having him at your mercy, was intoxicating. Your lips curved into a sly, knowing smile as you met his gaze with a sultry intensity.  

"Then guide me, Sol," you murmured, voice low with a hint of teasing.  

His eyes darkened, his breath catching at your words. For a moment, it seemed as though he might lose his composure entirely, but instead, he pressed closer, the heat of his body radiating into yours. His hands tightened over yours, steady and commanding, as he guided your movements with aching precision.  

"Guide you?" he rasped, his voice rough with barely contained desire. "Gladly."  

His fingers wrapped firmly around yours, leading you in a slow, deliberate rhythm around his cock. Each movement was an exquisite torment, a maddening mix of control and surrender that left you craving more. His voice, low and gravelly, brushed over your skin like a caress. "Like this," he whispered.  

The feel of him beneath your touch was overwhelming, a mix of heat and tension that made your chest tighten and your pulse quicken. As his hand fell away, relinquishing control to you, the look in his eyes—half-lidded and burning with need—was almost too much to bear.  

Taking charge, you continued the motion, your strokes deliberate and teasing. Sol's breaths grew heavier, his head falling back slightly as he tried to stifle the low groans that escaped his lips. But he couldn’t hold back the quiet whines that followed, each sound unraveling you further.  

The weight of you on his lap, the way your hips shifted against him—whether intentional or not—drove him wild. His hands gripped your waist tightly as though grounding himself was the only way to keep himself from losing control—and you from falling.

His face flushed a deep red, his jaw tightening as his breaths came faster, his body trembling beneath you. His arousal was undeniable, glistening with beads of precum that caught the light as they slid down his length. The sight alone was enough to make your stomach tighten with desire, but it was the sounds he made—low, broken groans turning into quiet, breathless whimpers—that truly undid you.  

Sol’s tired yet desperate eyes met yours, silently begging for more, even as his body surrendered entirely to your touch. The vulnerability in his gaze was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but feel a wicked thrill at the power you held over him. Every gasp, every shudder, every barely audible plea only pulled you deeper into the moment, the fire between you burning hotter with each passing second.  

You begin rudding the slit on his tip, dipping your finger on the pre-cum, smudging it across the tip, “A-ahh…” That alone sent a chilling feeling down his spine. Then you wonder for a second.

Just how far you could take this? 

And, as if he could read her mind, Sol’s voice was broken into another gasp at the feel of her finger on his tip. You smirked, leaning in close to his ear. “Does that feel good, Sol?” You smirked, leaning in close to his ear.

Sol let out a strangled, guttural moan, his body shuddering at your touch, his breathing labored and strained. He gripped the edge of the stool as if holding on for dear life, his knuckles turning white. "Y-Yeah," he managed to gasp, his voice trembling the words out.

"Feels... so good." His head fell back, his eyes fluttering closed as you continued your ministrations, his body completely at your mercy.

As he tried his best to muffle the pathetic whimpers that were threatening to escape his lips with his free hand covering his mouth, Sol was coming undone, every touch, every gentle caress pulling him closer and closer to the edge. And he couldn’t get enough of how your delicate fingers all wrapped nicely around his cock.

Hearing his voice, broken and needy, sent a thrill coursing through you, intensifying your desire for him. This side of Sol—a man usually so composed and enigmatic—was uncharted territory, and you were quickly losing yourself in the discovery. 

You leaned back slightly, just enough to drink in the sight of him, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. “Just good?” you purred, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “Or does it feel better than that?”  

“Pumpkin,” he rasped, his voice deep and trembling with barely contained restraint. It took everything in him to hold back, but the way your sharp, half-lidded eyes bore into him, your smirk only widening as your hand pumped him faster—it was driving him to the edge. “I-I’m close, please… please...” He moaned,

“Oops, sorry~” you cooed, amusement dancing in your tone as if you weren’t purposefully unraveling him by slowing down. 

Sol’s body jolted under your touch, another strangled moan escaping his lips as his grip on the stool tightened. He was trembling, the effort to maintain control wearing thin. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one sharper than the last. “Come on… Please…” He whines, “Let me cum, I want to cum… Will you let me, pumpkin?” He begged.

His breathing is ragged, tiny beads of sweat rolling down his cheek, some of his hair sticking to his face as you pump his cock—dare you say, he looks hot like this. 

You grin again, that same slow, cat-got-the-canary sort of smile from before. Are you enjoying this? Maybe it’s just a teeny bit too much. 

“Mmh, I don’t know,” You say, tone light and mocking, considering it while pumping him faster. “Are you sure you’ve been good enough to deserve that, Sol~?”

Sol's face flushed crimson as he groaned under your touch, his body reacting with an involuntary twitch. He could barely hold himself together, the effort nearly breaking him. Your teasing, the way you toyed with him like this. It was enough to drive him insane with need. And yet... he loves it. 

“Please,” he panted, his voice choked with need. “Please, pumpkin... don't tease me anymore.”

You grin, your breath catching in your throat for a brief moment at the sound of his pleading. He’s so desperate, and again—it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

Before you get to reply, you are stuck watching, listening to him. With one last stroke, he came. You feel a warm, sticky substance splatter against your face, and you gasp in surprise, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment. When you open it back up, you see your hands are covered in… his cum.

He whines, trembling under your touch. “Fuck…” He grumbles… before chuckling breathlessly, his chest rising and falling with each ragged inhale. He looked at you, his eyes darkened with desire, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"You're a tease, you know that...?" he murmured, his voice still hoarse. He reaches up, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers leaving a smudge of his cum on your skin.

You laugh softly, eyes fluttering closed at the touch of his fingers against your face. You can still taste him on your lips. “I’m aware, and I love it,” You say, your tongue darting out to lick a stray bit of his cum away, “Such a good boy.”

Sol's heart skipped a beat at the sight of your tongue running across your lips. He could hardly contain himself, his body still thrumming with a mix of need and satisfaction.

"You're... you're going to be the death of me, Pumpkin," he said, strained and thick. "I swear... you're going to drive me insane." Before you could respond, his hands shot forward, gripping your wrists roughly, halting your movements. “You know, It takes a true artist to know how to use their hands,” he muttered through clenched teeth, his frustration and desire boiling over. 

“Right now, I feel inspired. With your body so close to mine—” his gaze flicked to you, sharp and burning, “—you gonna feel so good once I get through painting you.”  

His words sent a shiver down your spine, his grip on your wrists firm and electrifying. Yet, you didn’t back down. Instead, your smirk deepened, and you tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Aww, it’s cute when you get all frustrated like that.” you quipped, resuming your teasing pace despite his attempt to rein you in.  

Sol’s jaw clenched, a growl rumbling deep in his chest as his eyes blazed with irritation and helpless desire. “Teasing me like this,” he gasped, his voice cracking under the weight of his need, “You deserve to be punished.”  

“Sorry? Punished?” You repeated, arching a brow, your smirk faltering for a moment as curiosity mingled with arousal.

His hands released your wrists, moving instead to the hem of your shirt. Slowly, deliberately, he began sliding it upward, his touch igniting sparks along your skin.  

He lifted your shirt, his movements were unhurried yet firm, tossing it aside without a second thought. The cool air kissed your bare skin, making you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the heat in Sol’s gaze. His eyes roamed over your body unabashedly, dark with want, his intensity sending your pulse racing.  

The way he looked at you—devoured you—was intoxicating. You felt your breath hitch, your skin tingling under his gaze as if he were leaving invisible marks with every flick of his eyes. Sol leaned in slightly, his voice low and gravelly, sending shivers cascading down your spine. “Now let’s see if you’re ready for what you started.”  

The lace of your black bra barely had a chance to tease him before Sol unclasped it with uncharacteristic haste. His breath caught in his throat as the fabric fell away, leaving your bare skin exposed to the cool air. The curve of your shoulders, the elegant line of your neck, and the sight of your hardened nipples sent a shiver of desire coursing through him.  

You were breathtaking, more so than any image his mind could have conjured. The reality of you—your warmth, your movement, the way you bared yourself so freely—was utterly consuming.

As you slipped off the remaining layers with deliberate ease, Sol found himself captivated, unable to look away. "You're staring," you teased, your voice low and sultry, tinged with amusement. "See something you like?"  

He tried to respond, but the words caught in his throat, his mind blank save for the raw need coursing through him. He swallowed hard, his gaze trailing shamelessly over your body, lingering on every curve, every delicate line of skin.  

He wanted to touch, to claim, to make you his in every sense. But he hesitated, almost afraid of the depth of his desire. The way you looked, so confident and alluring, made him feel as though he was standing on the edge of a precipice, and all he wanted was to jump.  

Sol's hands moved almost without thought, tracing the length of your legs, the curve of your knee, the delicate arch of your foot. His reverence for you bordered on worship, a devotion so intense it frightened him. He had tried to keep it at bay, but now that he had you like this, so open and vulnerable, he felt the weight of his restraint snapping.  

He was a man who could get lost in his own obsession, and with you, it was dangerously easy. Sol didn’t just want you—he craved you, a hunger so profound it threatened to unravel him entirely.  

With trembling hands, he slid your pencil skirt down your hips, the fabric pooling on the floor with a careless toss. He left the lace of your black panties on, unable to resist the way they hugged your body so perfectly. His lips found your neck, pressing kisses against the sensitive skin as he let his hands explore.  

The only thing separating you now was the thin layer of fabric between you, damp with evidence of your arousal. Sol’s thumb moved instinctively, pressing gently against the damp spot, and the soft gasp you let out was like fuel to the fire burning inside him.  

Your reaction sent his heart racing, his body trembling with restrained need. But when you whispered his name, your voice breathless and trembling, it pulled him back from the brink.  

“Sol,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. “Wait… you’re going a little too fast.”  

The words hung in the air like a sudden stillness before a storm. Sol froze, his hands pausing mid-motion on your body. His breathing was ragged, his chest rising and falling heavily as he pulled back, his intense gaze locking onto yours. A mix of frustration and unspoken yearning flickered in his eyes, the tension between you crackling like electricity.  

“Too fast?” he echoed, his voice hoarse and tinged with disbelief. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “You’re the one who started the fire, said you can handle it, and now you’re telling me to slow down?”  

He let out a soft, strained laugh, the sound laced with both amusement and restraint, as though he was trying to tether himself to reality. Still, he relented, easing the intensity of his movements.

Slowly, he reached down, unzipping his jeans and pushing them just enough to loosen their grip, his shirt discarded in the process. His gaze softened, though the heat in his eyes remained, a smoldering flame that refused to extinguish.  

“This is still your punishment, Pumpkin,” he murmured, a crooked smile playing at his lips as he leaned in, brushing a featherlight kiss to your lips.  

The kiss was different this time—rough, more forceful. His lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw and down to your neck, each kiss feeling like a vow unspoken. The world outside faded, leaving only the two of you suspended at this moment. He moved further, his lips exploring your collarbone and sternum with reverence, his warmth leaving a trail of fire across your skin.  

His hands trembled slightly as they cupped your chest, his touch reverent but firm, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh like he was trying to memorize the feel of you. His breath hitched as he brushed his thumbs over your nipples, the gentle pressure sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, more to himself than to you, his voice thick with wonder. “So damn pretty.”  

Your mind swirled with the weight of his words, his touch, his presence. The heat between you was overwhelming, your body arching into his hands as he explored with care and devotion. Each kiss, each touch, sent waves of sensation rippling through you, leaving you breathless.  

“Sol…” you breathed, your voice trembling with both hesitation and longing. “Please…”  

But instead of heeding your plea, he pressed forward, his lips finding the sensitive peak of your chest. He kissed you there with aching tenderness, his tongue tracing slow circles as his hand mirrored his movements. A soft moan escaped your lips, and he hummed in approval, his grip steadying you as you began to unravel under his touch.  

He paused only to meet your gaze, his eyes filled with something deeper than desire—an emotion too profound for words.

He quickly shifted you, his hands firm yet careful as he turned you toward the painting you and he both made. The cool air against your heated skin made you shiver, the contrast heightening your awareness of his every movement.  

He moved behind you, his breath warm against your neck. For a moment, he hesitated, his fingers brushing down your skin to the fabric of your panties. He slid them down slowly, his movements deliberate, almost reverent, before throwing them on the floor.

He forced you to lean on your back against his firm chest, the back of your head resting against his shoulder as his hands stayed on your hips. 

Soon his hand slid beneath your chin, tilting your face upward with a tenderness that made your heart flutter. His gaze locked onto yours, a tempest of emotions swirling in his red-orange eyes—desire, restraint, and something unspoken yet intense.

“Sorry, Pumpkin,” he murmured, his voice a low, velvet whisper, “but I need you.”  

He adjusted your position, the shift sending a jolt of sensation through you as his cock settled snugly against your bare heat. A soft, broken sound escaped your lips—a breathy, high-pitched “A-Ah!”—and your half-lidded eyes met his. In his fiery gaze, the pupils seemed to ripple, almost heart-shaped, as though they reflected his overwhelming hunger for you.  

Sol began to move, rubbing cock rather fast and rough against your cunt, his hips pressing forward until he found that sweet, electrifying spot. Your voice spilled out again, light and melodic, each sound like a chime caught on the breeze. His movements became more assured, each thrust purposeful as he reveled in the way your body responded to his.  

He had you now—completely, utterly his.

Your bodies melded together in perfect rhythm, your breaths and sighs tangling as if they were one. Sol’s senses were flooded with you: the subtle rise and fall of your chest, the faint tension in your spine that dissolved beneath his touch. Each reaction, each sound you made, only drove him deeper into the intoxicating realization that you were exactly where he wanted you—wrapped in his embrace, utterly lost in him.

He has you in his grasp, but he wants to hold onto you tighter. 

He focuses on where your lower bodies meet, tongue poked between his lips and furrow in his brow. Drives his hard cock rubbing against your bare cunt, catching the crown into your clit until you’re shaking underneath him. Sol can’t think anymore, lost in the feeling of wonderful pleasure. 

If it feels so good like this, being inside you might be too much.

So close in proximity that Sol can hear each of your short pants. Erratic and almost thoughtlessly driven by one single thing: pleasing you. Feeling each other, all wrapped up together. 

Drawing out those moans as he pinches your nipples at your tits, making you feel how hard he is. How pent-up, needy, and fucking horny he is all for you. Just humping your soft, sweet cunt makes Sol want to risk everything he’s got with you.

The push and pull of too much and not enough at the same time. It’s so fucking euphoric. Your cunt keeps wetter and wetter, and Sol doesn’t know if it’s you or him - his pre-cum dribbling agasint your needy cunt. He can feel your pussy pulse and tremble. Your spine goes stiff, and Sol pulls away to look at you.

You’re so pretty. You’re on edge, in complete bliss, and so fucking pretty only for his eyes to see.

“A-ah, Sol—please, wait,” you gasped, your words trembling as pleasure coursed through you. Sol froze for a moment, his eyes wide and blazing, the sound of your plea cutting through the haze of his need. Frustration flickered across his face, mingling with something softer, something more conflicted.

He didn’t want to wait—couldn’t—not with the way your body moved beneath him, flushed and trembling, your breath hitching with every touch.  

Your mind was a haze of heat and sensation, your body barely keeping up with the overwhelming pleasure that had left you spiraling. And when you both reached that peak together—his cum spilling over as yours soaked on tophim in return—it was a moment that burned itself into his memory.

A first—he made you come with him. The sight of you arching against him, your cries echoing in his ears, left him undone, his breath ragged and unsteady as he trembled, listening to your pretty moans.

Sol’s hands remained firm on your hips, anchoring you as his gaze devoured you. Again, the image of you—writhing, broken, and entirely his—was seared into his mind, a memory he wanted to relive over and over again. His heart pounded as he leaned forward, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both desperate and adoring, his tongue teasing yours in a way that left you breathless.  

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, I need…” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and raw with emotion. His nose nuzzled against your cheek before he kissed the corner of your mouth, his words pouring out in a slow, deliberate cadence.  

“I want to see it again,” he said, his tone steady but trembling with need. “I want you to cum again, Pumpkin.”  

The vulnerability in his voice stirred something inside you, but your body was already at its limit. You pulled back slightly, your breath still uneven as your gaze met his. “Sol, I... I don’t think I can,” you admitted softly, your voice tinged with exhaustion.  

His eyes darkened the fire in them dimming for a moment, replaced by something closer to concern. His hands softened their grip, and he leaned back just enough to study your face, his expression caught between worry and restraint. “Did I hurt you?” he asked gently, his voice quieter now, though the tension in his body remained.  

You shook your head quickly, your words coming in a rush. “No, no, you didn’t. I just—”  

“Then you can keep going,” he interrupted, his tone almost pleading, his patience unraveling at the edges. His gaze was intense and unwavering, and you felt your resolve waver under the weight of his need.  

“Sol,” you tried again, shaking your head as you placed a hand on his chest. “I’m tired. You’ve... you’ve worn me out. And you’ve got to be tired too—don’t you think? What about our project?”  

His brows furrowed as he let out a frustrated groan, his body taut with tension. “It doesn’t matter,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly. “It can wait.”  

Your breath caught as his hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips again and pulling you against him yet again. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips grazing your skin. “You look so damn good like this,” he murmured, his voice tinged with reverence. “Messy and perfect—covered in our cum.”  

A shiver ran through you as his hands explored your body, his touch deliberate and reverent. "How much more should I paint you?" He kissed a trail down your neck and shoulders, his lips soft yet possessive. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent a fresh wave of heat through you, despite your exhaustion.  

“Sol, please,” you whispered, though the words lacked conviction.  

He didn’t respond, his silence heavy with meaning as his hands moved lower, his touch firm but gentle, as though committing every curve and contour of your body to memory. His fingers brushed over your thighs, then between them, the featherlight touch making you tremble.  

When he finally touched you—his fingers tracing over the sensitive folds of your cunt, slick and sticky from your shared cum—a sharp gasp escaped your lips. He groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as he focused on you, his movements both precise and overwhelming.  

“Can you feel it?” he whispered, his voice rough but laced with tenderness. “How much I want you, need you? How much I love you?”  

The words struck something deep within you, and though you were overwhelmed, you couldn’t deny the magnetic pull of his touch, his voice, his very presence. He didn’t need to say it aloud; every caress, every glance, told you everything he couldn’t put into words.  

Sol was an artist, and you were caught in the vision of it—a dangerous one. You’re trembling with anticipation. A sense of contentment washes over Sol as his breath fans over your neck. 

Sol can feel how worked up you are. You’re quiet and tense. Some part of him wants to leave you like that, waiting, but the other part of him wants to give you everything you’ve ever asked for. He gives into the latter because that’s what he wants more. 

He used his free hand that was grounded you to lap, reaching down to lift his now hard cock agasint your bare cunt with a deep sigh, and a pleased hum.

He loves the way you smell, the scent of sex and arousal mixed with the fancy soaps you keep in your bathroom. 

Your pussy is as pretty as you are, a sheen of arousal all along your slit. Your clit peeks through, swelling from need. Sol uses his tip to kiss your opening without thinking. He starts slow. Lays his cock flat against the seam of your cunt before dragging it up and down once, rubbing you again however, this time, it almost slips inside of you. 

You lose a little of what little control you had. Your body jerks back against him, and you bite back a moan. Sol felt that—he can’t get enough of you. Neither can you.

He moans in appreciation, repeating the gesture as he pulls your pussy closer. He gazes and looks down at you. You’re so pretty it makes him want to please. He repeats this over and over, grinding on your clit on his hard and needy cock, throbbing against the soft, smooth muscle as he gains a sort of rhythm.

He gauges your reaction when he tries something new, adding pressure until you’re squirming underneath him. When you start growing noisier, Sol knows he’s hit the right pace. 

And he stays like that for a bit, your pussy soaking more of his cock. He adjusts himself slightly, rubbing his fingers between your folds. You let out a soft "A-ah" above him, making him want to laugh. He keeps at it, his fingers sliding far enough to tease your entrance. Your hole is squeezing without him having done much at all, his middle finger teasing and prodding. 

“Sol stop! Don’t t-tease so much,” You pant. Sol nearly blows again, listening to you talk like that. He didn’t think you could be so cute. 

Sol couldn’t help but smirk, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. "But I love teasing you," he whispered against your skin, "hearing you pant and moan, wanting more but not quite getting what you need."

His finger kept playing around your entrance, just kind of going in circles on your sensitive bits. "Besides, it's fun to watch you squirm to my touch," he said, sliding his middle finger into you like it was nothing. It's not that hard. You're so wet for him, it's crazy. Your walls feel super soft and inviting, all syrupy when he touches them. 

Sol loves the way your cunt feels, taking his time to go in and out slowly enough that the tension just fades away. He really gets in there with his middle finger, and when it looks like you're not tense anymore—he goes and adds another one. He's doing both at the same time—and there's this moment where it's just a whole lot of sensation for you.

Eventually, it stops being just a sensation, and it shifts into pleasure. He presses his fingers into you hard, really massaging that soft spongy spot, he can feel you lean forward, nearly lurching forward.

Your back arches, mouth hanging open, “S-Sol!” You moaned.

Another feeling of pride spreads through his chest, his whole body. He wants you to let go again just like this. While he fingers your weepy cunt—he wants to see how far he can push. How wet you can get before he ever gets inside. 

His fingers can feel the way your walls tighten up so hard and the tremors of the aftermath. Your back curves against him as you cum again closing your thighs, hard for him, and he can feel it.

He can feel you cum over his cock once more. He can see you, see the pleasure crash into you like a tidal wave. A second. Sol made you cum twice in a row, this time without him. You practically pry him off as you ride the wave of your high. You sighed deeply as you watched Sol lick his fingers. "You taste so sweet, all because of me~" He breathed out, looking down at you.

“Are you done?” You asked, tiredly wore out.

Sol's eyes darkened at your question, his body still thrumming with a unsatisfied need. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his mind.

"Done?" he echoed, his voice rough. "I'm far from done, Pumpkin.” He sits you up on his lap, fixing you to completely lay back naked and beautiful, tugging open your thighs for your cunt to rest on top of his cock once more. “Sol I can’t please.” You quickly reached onto his shaft, stopping him. 

Sol's mind went blank when you touched him, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. His breath hitched, and he looked up at you through hazy eyes, his body quivering with need. He wanted you, desperately, but he also knew he had to stop.

"Pumpkin," he panted, his voice strained. "I... I don’t think I can handle any more of your teasing.” He said with heart eyes, “Just let this happen, please.”

His tone is so needy, so desperate, and it shoots straight through you, making your body shiver. You can feel just how badly he wants you, needs you. Already itching to do it a third. 

"I-I wasn't trying to tease you,” You whisper, your voice soft and shaky. “I’m just... I’m just tired, Sol. I am.” 

You try to pull back, even just a little, to put some space between them, but he's holding you tight against his back, “We’re almost there. Just one more…” He breathes out, stroking his cock, guiding the tip to your cunt opening, ‘I wanna feel you…” He mumbled, slowly pushing himself inside, “A-Ah, Sol!” You pleaded, trying to close your legs, but he forced them open.

“Don’t fight it.” He warned, pushing himself in. Your cunt squeezes your opening, not letting his cock inside before he goes in frustration while biting your neck to distract you, “Ahhh!” You mown in pain.

His hands gripped you tightly, anchoring you to him as though he couldn’t bear to let you go. He was completely undone, his desire for you eclipsing everything else, his body responding to the need pulsing through him.

In the haze of his hunger, he vaguely registers the absence of protection, but it barely registers in his mind, overshadowed by the overwhelming need to have you. A fleeting moment of tension flares before it melts into pure, white-hot pleasure, every inch of being inside you sent him aflame.

You feel incredible—like nothing he’s ever known. His arms tighten around your body, pulling you closer, coaxing you down another inch on his cock. His lips find your neck again, this time with more urgency, his teeth sinking more into your skin as he fights to hold himself back.

The taste of you, the feel of you—it’s almost too much. He wants to make this last. He won’t let it slip away too quickly. Sol’s not ready to lose himself just yet; he wants to savor every second of this.

Sol lowers you steadily until all of him is inside. Your expression is slightly pinched, and your whole body trembles, uncomfortable, almost in pain as you adjust to his size. You arch your back, hands reaching to take root in his hair. “P-Pumpkin!” He moaned. The sensation of tension on his scalp makes his cock twitch inside you. 

The pressure is almost too much, making you gasp in the air through your teeth. You hold on tight to his arms, “Oh god,” You moan, your head falling back. “You’re... you’re actually intense. I can feel...” Your voice trails off, replaced by a whimper. Every nerve feels like it’s on fire, overwhelmed.

Before you get a chance to adjust to the feeling, he picks your hips and slams them back down on his cock without breaking a sweat. You nearly scream, your hands immediately reach down, squeezing his wrists, trying to make him slow down. He gives you a wry grin; he almost wants you to plead for your mercy. 

“Aw.. want me to go slower?” Sol asked, “You have to beg for it~” Your eyes widen, and another soft gasp slips past your lips, your body tensing against him. The pressure and the fullness are almost too much, overwhelming in the best way possible.

He feels so good, so good...

You nod slightly, your voice coming out as a whimper. “Please,” You whispered, “Just stop, please...” Your body shakes as you speak. “Too much... too much at once...”

Sol's eyes gleam with a feral look, his body trembling with the effort to control himself. He pauses for a moment, his hands stilling on your hips, his breathing ragged.

"Too much for you, huh?" he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse. "You can't handle it, can you, Pumpkin?"

There's a hint of challenge in his tone, a hint of desire to keep going, to push your limits even further.

Repeating the motion but slower showing his hint of worry. He knows he needs to be careful, rocking you steadily onto his cock. The pace is controlled and smooth, a rhythmic pass of your hips over and over. 

Your insides threaten to dissolve him whole, turn him liquid from the inside out as he makes you ride him in reverse, moving his hips up and down while keeping you in place.

He watches as your breasts bounce as he leans forward, his chin coming to rest against your neck just enough for Sol to see the concentration etched upon your face. He watches you as you discover your pleasure in this moment—it makes you look utterly captivating. The feeling of him is nothing short of exquisite.

He shifts his hands to your hips to pull you closer to him, not changing the rhythm he wanted as you hug him tight.

The room resounds with the sound of skin meeting skin: a sticky smack as your body strikes Sol's thighs with enough force. Every nerve in his body is on edge, alive with sensation. His hand glides gently before your body, teasing your clit as he urges you to ride him. 

Sol forces as he feels you again, a new surge of excitement drenching him. He's becoming more sensitive to the times when you approach your climax. Your wetness is so invitingly greasy for him because of him. It is so messy that it's running down his length down onto his balls, turning his pants into a wet puddle from underneath you. 

He feels you stiffen in expectation—little contractions that bring you to the brink. His breathing comes in quick, shallow bursts as he watches you chase your climax, his hands gripping your hips as if to bring you even closer.

He knows he can't hold on much longer, the way you feel, the way you look riding him, your smell—god your pretty moans. It’s all too much. But he pushes down the rising tide, wanting to prolong this moment

His voice came out in a strained whisper, his grip tightening as he spoke. "I'm gonna cum soon. I want you to come right after me, yeah? Can you do that for me, Pumpkin?" He gently lifted your chin, locking eyes with you. His gaze searched your face, watching as your expression blurred with the overwhelming sensations.

Your mind felt hazy like everything was fading into a fog, too overwhelmed to form coherent thoughts. The pressure building inside you was almost unbearable—so huge, so intense, hitting you all in the right spots.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible, filled with a desperate need. "Yes, yes, I can do that... please, Sol, please..."

You could feel his desire building with you, like an unstoppable wave crashing over both of you. "Please, please, please..." You whispered it over and over, lost in the need for him, unable to say anything else.

Sol's eyes blaze with a renewed intensity, the plea in your voice driving him over the edge. His hands tighten on your hips, his body trembling with the effort of holding back.

"Pumpkin..." he pants, the words almost catching in his throat. "Pumpkin, I... I can't hold on much longer."

Your eyes are wild, and your body is trembling, every muscle tight and tense, “S-Sol, ah…”  You laugh, breathy. The third time you cum is less intense than you thought. It’s a shorter wave, a softer sort of orgasm that seems to ease you more than it does anything else, more hazely and oversensitive.

But you can feel still his cock inside of you, how close he is, how close he’s been. Even still, you clench around his cock hard—getting so much wetter than you were a minute ago. 

"Ah, f-fuck..." Sol growls, the sound catching in his throat. He's right on the brink now, his body straining with the effort of holding back. And then your muscles clench around him, the sensation enough to drive him over the edge. 

"Looks like I have to catch up, hold on..." Sol moans, his voice a low, gutt, picking up your thighs, “Sol! Wait—what are—!!” He loses himself completely, slamming himself inside you rather rough and fast, his balls slapping against your cunt.

He wants more of you—all of you—after all, you can take more of his paint, you are his true canvas.

Finally giving into the sensation that’s been drowning him, He feels it in his entire lower body. Every atom of him finally catches up to the high of the release. It’s so intense when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out than heavy breaths. His eyes shoot open, then go back closed. 

The coil in his stomach loosens more slowly at first than all at once, like a car crash. When Sol finally cums he sees nothing but white hearts in his vision. He can’t scream, can’t speak—so he holds onto you tight and finishes inside you, cock deeply buried inside of your pussy. So much cum spurts out of him, thick and hot painting your walls, so much in fact that it was leaking out of you, dripping down.

Sol tried his best to keep all of it inside of you, as it'd ruin his version. He didn’t even try to pull out, he rode out his orgasm with heart eyes, still fucking you slowly, wanting to keep all of himself—and cum, tucked deeply inside of you.

The sensation lingered long after the moment had passed. When Sol finally opened his eyes again, he found you collapsed against him—your body wrecked, spent, trembling from the overwhelming intensity.

You felt achingly sensitive, every nerve alive and raw, yet your mind remained a hazy blur, struggling to grasp onto anything, while your body felt heavy, as though you were floating just above the surface of consciousness. Everything was a gentle, blissful silence, a welcome respite from the chaos.  

Just how long had it lasted? How many times had he brought you to the edge? The last time he counted, it was three, maybe more after what he pulled. He couldn’t be sure. The last clear memory he had was of you, twitching on top of him, your back pressed firmly against his chest, every part of you quaking from the intensity.  

Sol took a slow, steadying breath, his own body still trembling from the exertion. He looked down at you, your limp form lying against him, completely drained. The exhaustion in your body was palpable, and in that moment, a part of him realized he’d pushed you farther than he’d intended.  

“Pumpkin...” he whispered, his voice soft and concerned as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer into the warmth of his embrace.

“You did so good for me... You okay?” He waited, but you didn’t answer.  

Your mind was still foggy, still trying to make sense of the world. Words felt distant, impossible to grasp and form into something coherent. Your body felt like it belonged to someone else—limp, exhausted, utterly spent.  

A soft, unintelligible noise escaped your lips, a simple affirmation that you were still with him, still connected. It was enough to make him nuzzled you into his chest, his body instinctively seeking the comfort of his warmth of his wonderful creation.

Sol chuckled quietly, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He knew exactly what he’d done to you—how thoroughly he had worn you out—and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of quiet pride.

You were his, finally.

He gently played with your hair, twisting it with his fingers, his touch tender as he held you against him, giving you time to recover, knowing you needed it before you two could complete the art project that’s—he thinks that’s due tomorrow?

Oh well… if you don’t wake up in time he’ll complete it all for you.

“You’re adorable like this,” he murmured softly, his voice low and affectionate heart-shaped eyes, holding you tight against him, “All this... started from a simple brushstroke.”  

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

[starandcloud]

Pretty Pumpkin

Solivan Brugmansia x reader

TW: Breaking and Entering, Somnophilia, (slightly) manipulative reader,

Word Count: 3,377

Average reading time: 12 minutes 17 seconds

Mainlist

TKaTB mainlist

You were a smart student, you knew your stuff. Which is how you got here, a scholarship. You were perfect in just about every way, you were smart, graceful, top of the class, and did volunteer work after classes. You worked at the swimming pool during the summer and the plant nursery whenever you could. You were the dream. And the worst part?

You knew it.

You knew the looks you got, but you played it like you didn't. You knew your window lock wouldn't suddenly break, you knew someone had broken in. You noticed when things were moved, but you played along. Along into the sweet little fantasy whoever was trying to spin you into. You installed hidden cameras and watched them in the morning every time you actually slept at your own apartment, you watched as someone entered your room and just... admired you? You were honestly expecting worse, you were expecting a lot worse if you were completely honest. But you didn't know who it was, so you shifted the cameras and that's when you figured it out.

You locked yourself in your closet, the only place with no windows other than the kitchen, and watched the footage. You watched him enter, you listened to him speak and call you a sweet little thing and play with your hair. You could see his gentle smile and you could just feel the love drunk energy from him. You squinted your eyes then you saw it, you saw those green streaks and you smirked.

"Clever boy, what a clever little thing."

You praised Sol as he showed you his math test. Another one. Your hand nestled in his hair and you could feel him tense up under you as that blush stretched over his cheeks. You watched him look away and cover his face with his hand and you faked a pout and showed him your eighty-five percent.

"I did horrible Sol," you whined out and forced your bottom lip to quiver, "I really studied for this one..."

You had a mock sad tone in your voice as you looked down, your hair shifting as you did. You could see him move to comfort you and his hands gently rested on your shoulders, "H-Hey," you listened to him stammer before he calmly explained that you did your best. That's what matters. You leaned into him and gripped the back of his shirt, mock tears in your eyes as your shoulder's shook. Mimicking a cry as you buried your face in his chest, "I-I really tried... I-I don't know what's going on," you forced out with a sad tone, your voice cracking slightly as you did. You felt his arms dip around you and wrap around your waist as he held you close, "m-my grades are just dropping now," your words came out with a whimper as you pushed yourself closer to him, keeping up the act of upset princess, you looked up at him. Tears in your waterline as your bottom lip quivered, "am... am I stupid now Sol," you asked. Watching as he looked down at you with such a tender expression you couldn't help but almost surrender this game you were playing.

"No... no of course not," he whispered as one of his hands came up to your head and delicately pushed it against his chest, "it's just a rough patch. It'll be okay, it's all those holidays recently, that's all."

He promised as he rocked the both of you, you could see your friend close by. You locked eyes with her and gave a little smirk as you rolled your eyes and made a false cry before mouthing 'little games are back' before burying your face in Sol's chest. You felt him hold you tighter and you gently tightened your grip on him, you could feel his heart beat against his ribs and it made you grin. Eventually you pried yourself from him, hiding your face with your hair as you gathered your belongings and laced your fingers with Sol's as the two of you walked towards the library. You needed books for a class, which also gave you another opportunity to act like you needed Sol. Huffing, you reached for another book. It was with in your reach, but you purposely acted like you couldn't reach.

"Sol," you whined out and batted your eyelashes at him, "can you grab that for me?"

You asked with a little jump, making sure to coordinate your movements in such away that the book you wanted was just out of reach. Pouting you stomped your foot slightly and huffed before you felt Sol right behind you, you smirked and watched as his arm went above you and grabbed the book. You whisked around and gave him a hug, "oh you're the best," you exclaimed. Your voice happy and excited, as if he had just done the impossible for you. You felt his hand rest on your shoulder and you looked up at him, you saw him looking away and knew exactly what you were doing to him. Grabbing the book from his hand, you made sure that your fingertips brushed against his arm as you reached up and you leaned your body against him before you finally grabbed the book.

"You're the best Sol, you really are, you're like- the best person ever, and you're super duper smart," you said your voice like honey as you tucked the book into your back and picked it up, "oh I know! Could you tutor me?"

You asked as you tugged your bag over your shoulder and looked over at him, watching his eyes become puzzled and his body tensed as he tried to comprehend what you had just said to him. You watched the gears turn until he figured it out, you watched his face turn a beautiful shade of red and him look away. You knew what the answer would be, 'of course, what subjects?' you knew his sweet little facade all to well. After all, you were playing it too.

The last bell sounded like a starting shot at races, you packed your bag and sent a quick text to Sol; asking if he wanted to hang out. You were meant with an immediate response and you smiled softly before waiting at the school gate. When he came into view you acted all sorts of excited to see him, you bounced on your toes and laced your fingers with his as you lead him towards your apartment. You smiled as you walked around the back with him, telling him you just wanted to check on the little kitty you found the other day, and forced a frown when you didn't see it. Though there was actually a kitten back there the other day, you had already found it's parents, and it was just a ploy. You noticed where the grass seemed to be flatter and ran your fingers over it, helping it stand up right.

"Sol, look at this, a deer must've laid down here last night."

You spoke with a giggle as you pointed out the imprint, you watched as he tensed up and hid your smirk as you watched him try to usher you inside. Saying something about how you must be cold, you couldn't help but laugh as he gently pulled you into your own apartment. You excused yourself and changed into a hoodie and leggings, honestly it wasn't planned. It was just what you were comfortable in, you threw your hair into a bun and sat next to Sol. You pulled out your math books and smiled gently as he started to talk about how to do the math problems you were "having issues with". You nodded and listened intently, you let your hand "accidentally" rest on his thigh as you leaned forward and laid your head against his shoulder. At the end of the study session, you walked him to the door and gave him some food. It was supposed to be your lunch for tomorrow, but here you were, you'd honestly just buy lunch tomorrow at school. It wasn't a big deal, you promised, as you urged him to take the food. Which he did eventually take, you smiled and gave him a tight hug before watching him walk away. You shut your door and then settled on the couch, you turned on a shitty rom-com and watched it until you were bored. You honestly hated those things, but you laughed at every corny joke and made an effort to make yourself look like you were enjoying it.

Later that night, an hour or so later than when you actually went to bed, you were listening to music. Bopping your head around as you cut your eyes towards the window, at the general location you knew he would be. The imprint, which you took a guesstimate at it's location, wasn't far from your window so you just smiled sweetly and then went back to your music. You weren't aware of how quickly he ducked behind the tree and how he clutched his chest or how his blush was bright enough you could've used it as a flashlight. Honestly he wasn't even sure if you even knew he was there, you did, or if you knew if it wasn't a deer but him, you knew, but he let out a shaky breath when your bedroom lights went off. He waited a few minutes before hiking your window open and climbing in, he stood in front of you and pulled his mask down. You heard him approach and felt him sit beside you, so you decided to play a little game with him. You furrowed your brows and muttered out his name in your "sleep", you could hear the gasp that came from him and how his fingers gently brushed over your cheek to feel you against his skin.

"I'm here Pumpkin," he mumbled back, "right here."

He sounded like he was promising that he'd be there when you woke up, you knew he wouldn't be so you shifted close to him. Still feigning sleep as you whined in your sleep as you felt his hand leave your skin. You felt him gently put his hand on yours and his breath against your skin, "so pretty," he muttered before his lips connected with your neck. You could feel how gentle he was trying to be, you could feel how he was trying not to leave a mark as he licked, gently bit, and sucked on your skin. You could feel his want for you through how he breathed and how tender he was, so you let out a little whimper.

"Shit..."

You heard him curse when he pulled away, you felt him stand up and heard him rummage through your drawers. You could hear his panic as he whispered, "where the fuck do they keep their makeup," you heard him yank open another drawer and it clatter to the ground. You stirred in your bed and then you heard nothing. It was a good five minutes before you felt him settle next to you again, his fingers gentle against your neck as he applied concealer to your neck. Hoping you wouldn't notice the hickey in the morning. You kept hearing him mumble about how pretty and perfect you were before he fell silent. So you whimpered out his name in your sleep again, you felt him clutch your hand and press a kiss to your head. You felt his lips trail down your face before he hesitantly pressed a kiss to your lips, a smile stretched across your lips and you stirred in your "sleep" again. You heard him sigh and then whisper out, "I have to go Pumpkin; I love you," before he left. You felt his hand leave yours and the sound of your window sliding open and shut. You waited a few minutes before you navigated through your apartment to the bathroom, you delicately removed the makeup and smirked slightly at the dark mark on your skin. You gently traced the delicate skin and knew what you were doing tomorrow.

You walked into school with a pep in your step, your hair pulled up and away from your neck as you showed off the hickey from Sol. When asked about it you gave a halfhearted shrug before you told them it was a curling iron accident, which most believed. You went about your day until lunch, where you watched Sol freeze in place before you called out to him. You watched his mind buffer for a moment before he continued over to you. Hyugo pointed out the hickey and you cut your eyes at Sol, who choked on his lunch, before you laughed it off and said it was the weirdest thing. You thought just kind woke up with it, but figured you just burned it on the curling iron that morning when you were too tired to comprehend what was going on.

It was a few weeks later when you finally decided to catch him in the act. Humming softly to yourself, you shut your blinds and went about your nightly routine. You hummed softly as you fixed a false body into your bed, made of pillows, some towels, and a wig. You flicked your light off and waited in a dark corner. You watched Sol quietly enter before you took light steps behind him, "Sol," you whispered out as he whipped around. Your delicate fingertips rested against his chest before you pushed him onto your bed, your legs gently straddled his as you sat on his lap. You held his upper body up by his sweatshirt and pulled his mask down.

"How long do you think you could do this for Clever Boy?"

You questioned as your eyes scanned his flushed face, you watched his eyes flick around as he fumbled through words. A sadistic grin crossed your face as you gently took his neck in your hand, squeezing softly before you pulled him close. Your nails digging into his back as you grinned as his dazed out look made a shiver go down your spine, before you clicked your tongue at him.

"My, my, you're pathetic Sol. Utterly pathetic."

The whine that met your ears at your disapproval of him and his actions. Delicately you lead his hand to your waist and you felt his pulse sped up under your fingers, making you laugh.

"God... Getting all worked up, just by touching my waist Sol? God, you're sick..."

You spat, making him look away from you. A mad look in his eyes before you jerked his head back, his face centimeters from yours as you growled lowly.

"I didn't say you could look away Sol. Don't fucking look away from me, don't you dare."

You said, your commands making his eyelashes flutter.

"H-How," Sol started as he tried to hold eye contact with you, "how did you know Pumpkin..?"

His voice came out barely above a whisper and you laughed before pushing his upper body against the bed. You looked down at him with a snarl.

"I'm not an idiot, you moved my food and drinks. Put sleeping medication in them, I'm not an idiot Sol. There's camera's everywhere. I know everything you've done in the past month Sol. So come on, tell me why. Tell me why you did it."

You demanded as he fumbled for answers, though the only pathetic words that left his lips were "love you" and you just wouldn't take that.

"Oh hunny," you coo'd as you pulled him back up and held his face in your hands, "you're sick pathetic bastard. There's no way I could love someone who decided to mark me at night, when they thought I was asleep."

Your voice came out so sweet, but that didn't stop his eyes from getting sad and looking away. If you couldn't love him, why didn't you call the police? Or move? If you couldn't love him, why're you holding him like this? Your hands on his face and sitting in his lap. He was so confused he didn't register his arms wrapping around you, or how you pushed his head against your neck until you spoke.

"So why don't we try that again, hm? Mark me while you know I'm awake Clever Boy..."

Your finger's played with his hair and he delicately kissed you, making sure not to hurt you as he held you tight. You grimaced at his delicate nature and grabbed a handful of his hair before yanking it back, you heard a whimper and saw how his eyes filled with tears.

"If you're not going to take care of me, then I'll find someone who will."

You threatened as you began to get up. Just as you were standing he pulled you back into him and whined, "n-no I can," he whined and buried his face in your neck. Lapping and sucking at the skin, pulling a content hum from your lips. You whimpered softly when he bit down at the skin, that's when the dynamic changed. His hands pulled you closer to him, and he got more aggressive with his assault on your neck. Your whimpers turning into soft moans before you whimpered out his name, a groan came from Sol as you whimpered again. Your eyes rolled back and you gripped at his hair again, this time gentle and desperate as you shuffled closer to him.

"Fuck... you sound so pretty Pumpkin..."

You whimpered quietly at Sol's whispered words your body moved closer to his and you whined softly. You wanted him so badly right now, to feel his touch against your skin. Is this how he felt? Desperate and needy for your touch? You don't remember when he had you underneath him, or when your pajama pants were yanked off but you do remember how his face was buried in your neck and how he whined when his cock was fully inside you. You clung to him, your nails leaving irritated red streaks down his back as he littered your skin with gentle bites and hickies, you choked out a moan when his hips snapped into you. You sobbed out in pleasure, making him stop. You whined and squirmed when he stopped before he kissed you, "are you alright," he murmured out as he gently pulled away from the kiss and stared lovingly down into your eyes. Yours were tear filled and desperate as you nodded, god why did he stop? Was this a punishment? Was he teasing? No... his hands gently held your face as he kissed you again, his thrusts gentle and loving as your eyes fluttered shut. Your arms went around his neck and you pulled him closer, you wanted to feel every inch of his skin on yours.

The morning came and your eyes fluttered open, you were dressed and you smelled pretty. You smelled like your shampoo and like something else... you couldn't even think about it correctly. You couldn't place the smell, and you started to think it was all just a wet dream. You couldn't find anything on your camera's other than you falling asleep. You honestly couldn't remember how you even thought of that for a dream, it upset you the entire walk to school. You didn't think anything was off until Sol wrapped his arms protectively around you and you remembered that gentle touch. You jumped at first before your body unconsciously melted against him, it was then your best friend pointed out the hickies that were poking out from your collar. You flushed a deep red, an actual blush. You couldn't remember the last time your heart beat that fast, which brought a chuckle from Sol as he murmured against your neck.

"You're adorable Pumpkin, did you at least enjoy our fun last night?"

Those words convinced you it wasn't a wet dream and you wanted to curl up and die, smacking Sol's arm you brought a laugh from him and a goofy smile before you felt him kiss the top of your head. You loved this so much, you loved being held, but maybe you only loved it because it was Sol.

[vanesycho]

every time i see this guy his fucking tongue is out so i can't help but think how good he can be with his tongue...

someone who won't care when you're reaching your third orgasm and your legs are shaking. his tongue continues to lick and suck your entire pussy as if he knows it by heart, he's hungry for you and your body "hyun-jin.." he ignores every single one of your moans and whimpers because no he can't stop right now, he's not fully satisfied with you, he hasn't tasted you the way he wants so not right now.

"a little more..hm? please? let me eat you out a little more baby." he buries himself between your legs again without waiting for your answer because 'no' is not an answer for him.

even though he's eating you out his voice is almost equal to yours. he loves to moan into your pussy, just like that satisfying sound you make when you're eating a delicious meal. he loves to suck your clit while his hand finds your nipple and lingers there.

another thing he likes is when you cum on his face, do that and he'll give you the world. "cum in my mouth baby, you can do it. I want you to make a mess on my face." he won't pull back until he's gotten all your juices out, and when he finally pulls back he'll look at your pussy for a while to make sure not a single drop was wasted, then he'll lift his head and give you a smile.

kissing with this man can be pure heaven. can we call him the king of french kissing? i think he definitely deserves that nickname.

he'll make sure to never go overboard, not too hard or too fast. he likes to move his tongue around your mouth in gentle movements, the little whimpers you make as your tongues touch can be the sweetest melody he's ever heard.

he usually likes to grab the back of your neck, cheek or chin. it makes him feel more in control.

he has the softest and absolutely best lips.

he likes to bite your bottom lip before pulling away from the kiss, his eyes half-open and focused on your lips, likes to look at how red and swollen they are from the kiss.

also pulling back with a wet kiss is one of his favorites, he loves that little kiss sound when you pull back with a long kiss while your saliva is completely mixed.

his favorite place to kiss is your lips but he never says no to your nipples either. another place he likes to run his tongue around.

he does the same to your nipples as he eats you. first, he wets them with small touches, causes your nipples to harden with small tongue strokes and after a while he takes them all in his mouth.

he likes to pull back with a light bite from your nipple, the same he bites your lower lip before pulling back from the kiss.

in short he is really an expert with his tongue.

[me-owte]

Perfection

Sol being the perfect boyfriend. Is there anything that could be amiss?

SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT SMUT MINORS DNI !!! Use of they/them pronouns for reader and no explicit genitalia is mentioned Pre-established relationship, Sol beats up a pervert in front of you

Sol was perfect, the most incredible boyfriend you could ever imagine having.

From spontaneous dates at cafes or the arcade- where all expenses are covered by him before you could even think about offering your own cash. To the daily meals meticulously home cooked to perfection. Hell, the way his lips would worship your skin in bursts of affectionate kisses never made you feel anything less than a god.

"You're too good for me," you whisper under your breath, tangling your fingers through his two toned hair. Sol embraces you, cuddled up on your couch as a movie you've forgotten about plays in the background.

You feel him smile into your collar, briefly pressing his teeth into your skin before pulling back. The look in his eyes, lovesick to an incredible degree, tells you everything you need to know about the way he feels. "No pumpkin, you're the one that's too good for me."

Before you can protest, he's back on your collar. You yelp at the way he moves your shirt down to gain better access to your skin. His piercing is cold as he moves around, biting and nipping on any surface he can find. Your hands ball in his hair, and you bite back a moan at the way his tongue runs over the curve of your neck. Through whispers under his breath, you hear him muttering praises, a common sound whenever you two are alone.

"You're perfect..."

"Someone like me-"

"I'm so lucky to finally have you..."

"I'll never let you go."

In the heat of the moment, his hand slips under your shirt. And you choose to ignore the implications of his words.

He was perfect, and that word isn't one that should be said lightly. Sol looked at you as if you personally hung every star in the sky. As if you were solely responsible for the sun rising every morning.

As if you were the only thing worth living about in this earthly life of his.

You're in the arcade. You're on the side of a crane machine, peering into the glass as Hyugo tries to control it for success.

"Wait, wait, wait! Move it to the left, you're too far right-" You say, pointing to the spot where the targeted horse plush lays. Sol had gone to the bathroom at the time, leaving you and your friend scrambling as you try to win a plushie for him before he could return.

A fist flies into the air, making contact with a guy you didn't even realize was there. Sol, behind you, heaves from the recoil, glaring down harshly.

"Huh-"

"You... fucking pervert." Sol points down, eyes glowing with fury, hands shaking.

The guy on the floor lifts himself up, and only then you realize a cracked phone lays beside him, open to the camera app. "What the fuck are you-"

Sol bends down, grabbing the man by the collar of his shirt. "I saw you trying to take a picture of their behind." The man's only response is a look of horror, realization that he'd been caught.

The bright lights of the arcade and scattered sounds of chatter override any attention that could've been brought to the scene. Sol brings his fist up once more, ready to throttle the man. "Hey, we're in public Sunny." The eerily calm voice of Hyugo slices through the tension, cutting through Sol's anger in a moment of realization.

"I oughta take you outside to deal with your shit-" He bites back, glaring at the trembling man.

"F-fuck this, go have your whore-"

"Don't you dare!" Sol's fist flies straight into the man's nose, pure anger in his gaze. He doesn't stop punching, and you grasp Hyugo's arm in anxiety.

"S-sol stop-" You say, looking around to see if anyone else notices the scene. Hyugo tries to stop him swell, moving forward to try and pry him off. Sol only lashes out, shoving his friend to the side.

"Not yet-"

Despite your pleads, he doesn't listen, punching and beating the man until he finds his punishment fit. When Sol finishes, you're shaking.

He reaches out to you with hands stained with blood that aren't his. When you flinch, his eyes go wide. "I-" He looks to the side, and you can't tell if it's due to shame or nerve. "I couldn't just let the guy go, pumpkin. H-how else do you expect me to react?"

You can't help the way you soften at his words, at the clear realization at what he had done shaking his core. You trust he feels bad, and you step over the unconscious body to reach out to him, hands falling to his shoulders. Hyugo moves behind you, grasping at the body to begin work on manipulating the scene.

You hold him and he all but collapses onto you, cries of shame muffled by your clothing. Blood smears on your back from his hands gripping your shirt.

"I-it's okay," You say, whispering softly into his ear. You put hand in his messy hair, patting it to try and give him some semblance of comfort. With a loud sniff, he pulls away and you expect tears to be running down his face.

The look in his eyes is nothing more than pure adoration and devotion.

He was perfect. From the top of his forehead to the tips of his toes, not a single part about him was flawed.

Not a single part.

His hips slap into yours with a passion you find yourself hard to keep up with. Heaving pants and choked back moans fill your bedroom as you're pushed flushed to the mattress.

Sol's cock fucks into you in all the right places.

Long enough to reach the deepest parts of you. The first time you took him in fully, it felt like ages before he finally bottomed out. Every time you stare at the outline of his bulge you blush knowing just how much of him had been inside you nights prior.

Wide enough to stretch you out deliciously with each collision of your hips. He always had to prep you before, stretching you out with his fingers and sometimes his tongue. Sometimes he'd get you to cum just from the foreplay alone.

Curved in such a way he targets that one spot that makes you curl your toes. As soon as he slipped into you, he wouldn't stop bullying that spot. Every thrust of his hips was more intense than the last, focused on driving you over the edge again and again.

"I- I love you," he moans out, pressing his body weight on top of you. His eyes roam over your pleasure filled face unable to constrain yourself due to just how good he was fucking you.

His hand slips between you, groping any exposed skin he can reach. From the curve of your thighs, to the rolls of your hips, to your nipples that rub against his cotton shirt with every movement.

"I love you-" he says with less shakiness, trying to steady himself despite losing his mind in the way you grip around him.

"My darling, my soul mate, my perfect perfect pumpkin," his rambling words barely make sense to your fucked out mind. He dips his head into your neck, biting down in a way that makes you scream.

Your hands run across his back, grasping at the shirt he's always refused to take off. Through the passion of his thrusts, he pushes your bodies together in an attempt to merge your souls into one.

"Sol- S-sol-!" You cry out his name, pushing his head further into your neck, encouraging the way he marks up your skin with proof of his existence. "I'm close, I'm close-" You chant in between gasps you can't control.

His hand moves to your jaw, gripping it tightly as he continues to lap at your neck. "Come for me darling, prove that you're mine-"

With that, you let go, holding him tighter than ever before as your vision goes white. Sol doesn't let up, continuing to pound his cock into you despite the sticky mess.

"Perfect, so perfect," His hips slow down to give you a brief moment of relief from the stimulation. He breaths in the scent of your mixed sex, going straight to his head as he circles his arms around you. Your brain is too fucked out to hear him, instead focused on leveling your breathing. "You're too good for me pumpkin... Too perfect for someone like me... How could I ever let you go now?"

You were perfect. To him, you could do no wrong. To him, you were all that was right in the world.

And now that he's got you in his grasp, he'd do anything to keep it that way.

THE SOL BRAINROT WENT SO HARD I HAD TO MAKE A NEW BLOG FOR YANDERE CONTENT 😭😭😭 Let me know if I should make more or send in a request eyes eyes eyes

First time writing smut like this... I wanted to show how even getting into a relationship with him, even if everything goes well, there's still that air of obsession and something being wrong.

Might explore the idea more but for now the desire for smut won LOLOL

Banner credit

Play TKATB here!

[xoista]

you were too sweet to greg and rodrick hated it.

don’t get him wrong, rodrick loved how sweet you were, how you’d come to his stupid “family events” when his mom invited you even though he would tell you over and over you don’t have to come, how you help him study n’ kiss him when he gets something right, how you always give him constant compliments on his eyeliner when you don’t do it for him.

he loved it all, but not when you were nice to his brother. his snotty nosed, fuck faced brother. rodrick would complain about your babying of his brother, but you would shrug it off and say you weren’t babying him.

you were though. the way you would practically do anything for the little shit if he asked made rodrick sick. “you’re babying him,” rodrick scolded, sharing a glance between you and his younger brother as you ran your fingers through gergs' hair, trying to make it not as messy after rodrick had pushed him. satisfied with gergs' hair, you’d pull away from him and grin at rodrick.

“i am not, just trying to help,” you said, moving over to rodricks' side to kiss his cheek. rodricks' eyes would still linger on greg with watchful, squinted eyes and greg would only grin.

this was the first time greg had leverage over this brother. real leverage, and he loved it. no, greg didn't just like you for the leverage but because he actually really liked you for rodrick. he didn't completely understand why you liked his older brother, but you were definitely better than heather hills. way, way better. the constant “babying” was what he loved the most about you— right next to how beautiful he thought your eyes were.

anytime greg knew for a fact rodrick was gonna try to kill him, he’d threaten him with a call from you. “rodrick, i-i swear you don’t let me out… i-i’ll call her!” it wouldn’t scare rodrick, he’d only laugh from outside of this bedroom door and say, “gonna call my own girlfriend on me? i am soo scared. with what phone?”

yeah, most of the time it didn’t work, but when you’d came over, he’d tell you had happened and what your boyfriend had done to him. rodrick would, of course, deny, deny, deny and try to get you on his side, but it never worked, you would hug greg close to your chest and tell rodrick to apologize. rodrick would allow a fake apology to roll off of his tongue and suck his teeth, mumbling about how you’re babying him again.

greg would only grin and stick out his tongue at Rodrick as you hugged him.

“I am gonna kill you,” rodrick would mouth, pointing at him.

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Somnophilia smut with Sol? Reader doesn't wake up (Tʖ̯T)

No Rest for the Wicked (Sol x MC/Reader - Somnophilia Smut)

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, PRESENTING TO THE STAGE, YOUR FAVOURITE TKATB WRITER !!!

SKY FORTRESSES AND BURNING CITADELS, WITH A LONGTIME-AWAITED, PROMISED SOLIVAN BRUGMANSIA S.M.U.T.!

*bows*

Anyway, just a reminder this is rape, non-consented, probably slightly OOC, and I'm a (slightly more than) tad rusty in writing. I've also never written smut before, so do give feedback if you deem it necessary. Toodles, my sexy motherfuckers.

You could even say I came back with a bang. ;)

P.S. Also the M/C is written as a virgin in this, if your character isn't then congratulations! They hid their previous sexual escapades impeccably well, for Sol to not know.

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Wicked: evil or morally wrong.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

The room was pitch black, so heavily ensnared in the gaping shade of the darkened night that even shadows disappeared under its tarlike veil. Any ordinary, random burglar would be blindly stumbling about like an idiot, if they happened upon your apartment with…impure intentions.

Sol wasn’t a burglar, and he was definitely not ordinary. He wasn’t a mindless passerby on the streets, with a forgettable face and unassuming nature. Sure, he acted the part well, played the weak-minded shy kid well. But that act, that mask? It’s for the faces that litter his vision, that plague his sight and try to distract him from his goal, his mission, his messiah.

Faces that exist as a way to try and deter him from his forever, from his life and his bride, from his venerant Annabel Lee.

You.

He’s saving his true, adaptable, self for you. He’s willing to morph into anyone for you, alter himself, hurt himself if you so merely asked!

You could ask him to kill for you and he wouldn’t even blink until said soul was eviscerated; and their body exsanguinated and dumped in an outskirt lake.

He was the only one for you, your only soulmate, your only lover, your only.

So why did you always neglect him? Ignore him; spend time with him as a last resort, all in favour of that insignificant bastard-born slug?!

What did he have that Sol didn’t? Hmm? 

The queries began to flood his mind, onslaught his body. He barked out a laugh, a cold, brisk sound that reverberated across the walls, before cruelly biting the skin of his knuckles.

Hush, can’t have you wake up now darling, not when you’re so serene and at ease.

He didn’t want to do anything bad to you, of course not, he loves you…! But even the best of lovers need to be taught a lesson…or seven.

Boots softly thud against your floor, their path marked by years of memory and intuition, and like normal, he makes his way to your bedside.

Sol might not be able to see you, but he doesn’t need to. He already knows how you sleep, he remembers the precise dosage of medication he needs to do this…he’s all set…

Yet the longer he stands there, the more time ticks by him, gently ageing you both second by second closer to a fated death, he was struck by an epiphany:

Why the fuck should he settle for this? He’s been in the darkness long enough.

The kid at the back.

The afterthought.

The forgotten face of the world.

If Jericho Ichabod gets to see you…then so shall fucking he.

In a bout of ornery, he ditched his boots and marched into the lightless expanse of your lounge. He knew you had a torch hidden somewhere, might as well finally make use of it. 

Like he will of you.

Most people would’ve already ditched or aimlessly clambered around; but Sol wasn’t most people. He knew your residence inside out, all of them.Each place, grandiose or minimalistic, apartment or house. No matter where you go, he’s always watching, tonight’s just a little more…intimate, a touch closer than his usual escapades.

His hand softly searched the drawers, each soft click sent a thrilling chill down his spine, his body shuddered as he tactfully manoeuvred his way about the room. His fingers casually map each surface, fondling for anything remotely cylindrical…until, after what felt like millenia, he finds it. How lucky.

A lava lamp. Bright enough to see you, dim enough to not awaken you; and look at that…it’s red, like his eyes, like his lips…like his cock.

Were you thinking of me, beloved?

With methodical steps, silent as the grave, he strode back to you, placed the lamp in the closet door…and by God’s holy grail was he once more rendered stunned.

The soft crimson rays paint your frame in a way he prayed to one day replicate, with his own blood, perhaps? Paint wouldn’t be enough to perfectly capture your divine essence. 

Your lips look so fucking good. 

He wanted to have you so damn badly it hurt.

And he would’ve…until something crossed his peripherals.

A small photo, about the size of his palm, lay tucked away on your bedside drawer.

To say Sol was intrigued by this was an understatement, and his bubbling wonder continued to froth as he took in the details of this quaint square and halted. 

All intrigue turned to rage, white and hot like his flesh and it pelted his mind like hail on an abandoned car; before an idea, comical as it was repulsive, crept into the depraved depths of his mind.

What better way to avenge himself than make the whore see? See how much better he is, both in appearance and in bed?

A lifeless grin moulded into his face, Sol positioned the photo to ensure it stared right at him; The slug isn’t worthy of seeing the pretty things you’ll do; he thought.

He bored his eyes into ones of disgusting cobalt, before turning down to the grandest feast of his life.

Slender fingers, corpse-like in colour, caressed your face, measuring once more the map that is your body, his eyes hungrily raking over your sleeping form.

Against his better judgement, he lowers his head and drags his tongue, languid and unhurried, across your neck, his teeth softly rubbing across your zen pulse. 

He swiftly rose up, his face burning and his breaths stuttering; all the while his cock —  like the night before, and the one before that — began to fucking ache, straining horribly against his pants, almost begging to be allowed freedom from its constant confines. 

The urge to tear off your clothes and piston himself so deep inside you that your body would refuse any other dick was so tempting. The mere thought made a small wet spot appear, yet Sol would take his time, after all, this was merely you making up for teasing him, right?

Fuck it.

In one swift motion, he’s at your side, his nose buried in the crook of your neck as his hand casually dived under your shirt, worming its way towards the mounds that lay atop your angelic heart; but you couldn’t possibly blame him, they’re so malleable and beautiful; just like you!

He inhaled sharply, before closing his eyes and stifling a pathetic whimper.

You smell so fucking good.

His whole body was like a bomb, ticking away until either his time runs out and he leaves to care for himself elsewhere, or until he allows himself to… indulge.

If Ichabod got to revel in your presence, then so shall he.

“Mhh??”

Shit.

He froze, his body arched over you, his hoodie half off, exposing his burnt abdomen, carmine circles and purple dots peppering him like seasoning. 

Ahh…you told me I was beautiful in your eyes once…but I won’t risk you rejecting me from these, darling.

Another reason why he loved you oh-so much. You’re so pristine, so pure, so perfect that it stung. He didn’t deserve you, he wasn’t remotely close to reaching the bar of whom someone like you should have; but he didn’t care anymore. You were here, beneath him.

And he was going to have you if it’s the last thing he ever does.

Soon enough, his mouth returned to your pulse, suckling on the throbbing flesh and his teeth cautiously caging the arteries, until a mark — angry red like the burns that paint his skin — started to blossom.

His hand inched up your breast, the pads of his chilled fingers encircled your areolas, the nips hardened and prodded at him, begging to be pleasurably satiated — and satiate he inevitably would.

He swiftly moved to straddling you, this time in entirety, careful to avoid putting too much pressure on your torso. When you’re lying so prettily before him it was almost too easy to forget how much bigger than you he was, how small and dainty and delicate you were compared to him.

Using his other hand to lift your nightshirt to your collarbones, Sol redirected himself fully to your breasts, his teeth grazing over the buds before rapidly digging them into the warm fat, his nails clawing at your sides like they were pencils upon a blank canvas and the artist had the eureka of a lifetime.

His face felt torrid, his whole body felt like it’d been set ablaze and he’d barely started.

Look at what you’ve turned me into, but I’m not complaining, how can I?

Sol suddenly wished he was a snake, so he could coil around your body forever, his fangs lodged in either your neck or tits, while his tip would remain buried so deeply within you that you’d forget what it meant to move normally.

But hey, he could still do one of those things. The drugs are significantly stronger this time.

As if to test the waters, he delicately shifted your blouse off of you, tossing it somewhere else on the bed whilst he — perverted as he knew he was — admired your figure, his hands mellowly brushing your arms and kneading your curves, wanting to ingrain this image of you for the rest of his life.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. How are you so pretty?”

His cock was shrieking now, hell, he was struggling to contain himself. But he could hold off a little longer, right?

No. No I can’t.

His hands weren’t even his anymore, by the time he’d ceased gazing at you, his belt was being yanked out and he was aggressively tugging his pants down, a sharp slap! bouncing off the walls as his dick emerged from its confines, dribbles of translucent white steadily seeped out the shroomy head. 

He inched closer to you, deciding to fully ditch his clothes as he tenderly brought your hands into his. He covered them each in kisses, suckled on your fingertips, before guiding them towards his throbbing crotch, your fingers tightly clutched onto it; it’s like you’ve wanted this as much as him!

Shit. Fuck. Fuck you’re so pretty.

Blanketing your fingers with his longer ones, Sol slowly pumped himself into your palm, his whole body almost falling on top of you with how violently he shook at the sheer magnitude of carnal pleasure that coursed through his veins.

A pitiful whine emitted from his tongue as he commenced vigorously propelling himself into your hand, the drastic change in speed and temperament making the sensations nearly overwhelming. 

It forced him to hold his weight up over you; like his arm was a pillar to a divine shrine, one that he deems you more than worthy of. But he supposed this is the best way to be close to a god, to worship a god.

Shit, I love you. I love you so much, you don’t know how crazed I get when it comes to you.

Sol turned to the small picture of Ichabod, before looking respectlessly at the view under him, and smirked.

From his nigh-omniscience when it comes to you, Sol knows you’ve never had sex, and he’d be damned if your first would be Crowe.

He continued to piston himself into your palm, contemplating whether he should move on…elsewhere, while he could. 

Your hands weren’t gonna be enough, he wanted Ichabod to see him fucking you, making love to you; you didn’t have to be conscious, you’d still love him either way. 

Sol relished in the thought, as his thrusts grew erratic and variable, his abs clenching and his arms locking in as he prepared to release, to paint his magnum opus — to paint you white with his cum.

I love you, I love you so much, I want you so much, you’re everything to me IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.

He moaned, gripped your hand and placed a messy kiss to your lips, using his other appendage to pump faster and faster, until his body physically stuttered into it —  until his whole being shattered, and a fountain of his sperm splattered onto your skin, leaving your body glistening under the vermillion light of the lamp.

But Sol wasn’t done this time, for how could he be? He had to make sure nobody got to you before he did.

He kissed you again, his tongue diving into your mouth, exploring the wet cavern, his hand — the one that formerly served as a buttress — coming down to the band of  your shorts, his fingers gently prying them down with your panties, and judging by its appearance, it was one of the few he hadn’t touched — how cute. It’s like you wanted him to gather every garment that’s pressed against your core, that felt your slick as you touched yourself.

Gah, the thought of your fingers buried inside you, toying with your clit, playing with your tits.

Anything you do arouses him, but the thought, oh fuck him, the thought of you using yourself whilst thinking of him — like he about you — makes him feral.

Without even thinking, he plunged two digits into your pussy, silently (s)creaming at how smoothly they entered. 

Your body knows it’s mine, hahah! Fuck…you’re hot.

Pressing a thumb to your clit and his other hand over your mouth, Sol feels himself going sexdrunk, watching in slick satisfaction the squelches and pretty little Os your hole made around him, trying to crush his bones and slurp them into its warmth, as if it wanted him there forever. Not that he mind, he’d curl up inside you and live as your sentient sex toy if he had his way.

He sighs, his cock turning a brutal shade of red as his eyes observe the beauty that lay within how well cocooned he is inside you, and that’s with his fingers!

Repositioning your wrists so that he could comfortably hold them in one of his own, he redirects his attention to your pussy, thrusting with vehement pleasure into your depths, feeling your wet rapture on his skin, and his pace only increases; like fire on drywood.

The flames of his lust for you, the burning pyre of his love for you, it wasn’t enough in his eyes to see you so shortly each night. It shouldn’t be normal for him, he wanted to take you, to have and hold and love and worship and admire and caress you each day and night, for all his life until both of your ephemeral existences fell by the threads and you both lie in a shared sepulchre next to the sea.

He goes faster, his thumb circling the fleshy nub with affection, a small whimper stirring from your lips.

“Mh…C-crowe?”

Sol ceases, ears alert, eyes widened as he realised whose name you uttered.

Hah. Hahahahah. That motherfucker.

He was gonna go nice and soft on you, gonna be loving to you; but clearly, clearly you needed a little…reminder, of whose thick, fat, juicy cock was inside you.

Removing his sticky fingers, Sol tore apart your thighs, his nails etched so callously in your flesh he barely registered the groan that slipped past your mouth.

Crowe huh? My gorgeous darling, you’re so beautiful but you should know you can’t say such vile things.

He moved his cock with a tenderness towards your gaping entrance, the head brushing against your labia, a waterfall of gasps tumbling out of his mouth as the contact — evasive yet so direct — sent rushes of cold adrenaline down his spine, making him arch himself into you, searching for the closeness he’d wanted for so long.

Cupping your hand in his, he forced himself deep inside you, an onslaught of euphoria surging past any potential despondencies he might’ve had and he slammed his lips onto yours, the slapping of skin and the popping of each entry and exit his cock made out of you left him dazed in the sensual chorus of a symphony built upon ecstasy.

Even in all the times Sol’s touched himself to you, fucked himself into your undergarments or clothes, he’s never thought how immaculately well you fit around him, as if you were the warm, tight nut to his aching, etched bolt.

He was in pain, a beloved pain that came only from first love and lust, his heart screaming as he kissed your lips again and again, squeezing the life out of your hands as he muttered an obsessive, possessive manta:

I love you. I love you. I love you. 

He spent so many years waiting in eager anticipation for you to be his — to feel this sick love that he felt for you — like he was yours, and now, now he had you, claimed you. He wished Crowe was here so he could spit down his stupid throat. The idea felt tempting, maybe Hyugo could help him one more time.

But that’s for later, he’s with you now, and nothing is more invaluable to Solivan Brugmansia than you.

He couldn’t cease his gratifying motions, his suppressed moans, or the blitzes of unfiltered joy that rained down his face as he cried; fell apart both bodily and soulfully. His lips fell to your neck again and he marked you, tainted your priceless flesh with his teeth, contaging you with the plague that long since infested his mind.

His thrusts grew sloppier, his body was boiling as he stuttered out a hushed whimper:

Shit, I love you, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I love you so much-

And with a sharp bite to your shoulder, a callous bracelet of bruises to your wrists, and blood seeping from your swollen lips, Sol came deep within your heat — oceans of his desire-fueled suspension tumbling about inside you, painting you in white, his dove-white passion. For you.

Only you.

Yet as the waves of his lust left him spent and empty, he rose his sweating body above your form, tears running down his pallid face, and cupped your cheek.

He knew he should clean you up before he loses himself once more, but whilst he remained buried within you — his kingdom, filled with the seas of his undying adoration, he turned to the photo of Jericho Ichabod, yanked it off the wooden surface — and tore it to shreds.

[fluffylino]

oral fixation with minho 🍎

minho is good at eating apples. but that isn't the only thing he's good at eating...

skz code made me think all sorts of things cause the way they zoomed in on minho's mouth while he was dunking his face in for an apple-

-contains mature themes (very self indulgent and so incredibly hot)

minho looks irresistable.

dressed up in a beyond adorable outfit for the recording of the most recent skz code. a bunny clip neatly resting on his fluffed up hair.

he looks so cute, you could eat him up.

that is all until one specific game. which you were sure he'd be good at. with his hands placed behind his back. he was to take an apple from the tub of water.

the rules included using only his mouth to pick up as many apples he could, in a span of a minute.

the members have faith in him and he starts off by putting his face to the tub. trying to choose an apple that was closer. herding the apple to a corner.

your mind spiralling at the obsence thoughts that come to your head.

the determination in his furrowed brows, the way he holds his breath and opens his mouth wider.

head moving along with the floating apple. eagerly trying to suck and create a vacuum so he can pick it up.

but instead he lets his jaw hang loose.

mouthing at the apple just like he would kiss into your swollen folds. lips molding against your pussy, making out with it like he had all the time in the world.

apples!

this wasn't about you. this was about the apple he was catching.

you blink, watching with a nervous smile when he switches to another apple midway. giving up on the first apple.

the members tease him for switching amongst the apples, condoning it as bad manners.

its funny and you laugh.

he digs his bunny teeth into the fruit and runs to place it on the tray. spitting out a stream of water which was a result of sucking on the fruit.

you think of his front teeth, teasing your clit. while his spit stained lips wrap around your swollen bud as a means to ease the sharp sensation.

apples!

you remind yourself, its an apple for godsake.

without wasting a minute, he practically plunges his face into the tub of water. his bangs getting wet and they stick to his forehead.

he looked like a wet cat but you wished he was eating yours.

cornering the apple right into the edge. his jaw muscles tensing everytime he tried to catch it.

minho doesn't even care that his nose his partially underwater. he holds his breath like an expert and doesn't stop till he's finally got the second apple in his mouth.

thats how he is everytime he's buried between your legs. faceplanting into your cunt, you wonder if it pains him to press the lower half of his face completely against you.

nose harshly shoved against your mound. the tip of it rubbing deliciously over your clit.

the same eagerness he shows to the apple,is exactly how he shows it to you. pushing you up, till you're cornered into the sofa or the headrest of your bed, legs parted with him noisily slurping up all your slick.

you catch a glimpse of his tongue. nudging the apple towards him sneakily and you think of how he kitten licks your entrance.

loving the way you throb with his tongue and the sweet essence that drips past your fluttering hole.

you try not to think of how he flattens his tongue and licks long strips. feeling your sensitive folds with his hot wet muscle. making you gasp and beg for mercy.

apples! apples! apples! 🍎🍎🍎

you know what?

screw it.

you wished you were THAT apple.🍎⭐️

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watching skz code ep. 62 had me dying of laughter but also gave me severe brainrot with this one specific game ahahahhahahahha

[incognitonoggin]

can u pls do sol from tkatb with a reader obssesed with him

Hi anon !! I love Sol omg I’m going to enjoy writing this (๑>؂•̀๑)

SOLIVAN BRUGMANSIA WITH AN OBSESSED READER

GN! READER

MINORS DNI

SFW

• Sol would be surprised but delighted!

• The fact that he doesn’t have to try to build up a relationship, he can just love you in a genuine way without holding back how he feels.

• Most would think he’d be uncomfortable, seeing how you cling to him and have him practically on your hip in public ( he’s too damn shy to do any PDA so he’s just THERE ), but he’s perfectly fine with it and encourages it

• He’d love being around you all the time. I mean, thats all he wants, right?

• If you’re going to be physically clingy like stated earlier, he’d always be stiff and flustered with how you touch him and be all blushy from the slightest touch of yours 😭

• You being obsessed wouldn’t bother him in the long run, because like the creator said, he’s very patient with his s/o

• He would LOVE keeping you away from Crowe and others considering the fact that he’s all jealousss🙄

• Yes. He’s a cutie pie and he loves you !

[vinlanddka]

imagine that

accidentally having sol visit the cafe you're working in as a waiter. obv you have to serve the boy, take his order while smiling sweetly - this is your friend sollie after all, he gets some extra sweet treatment!! and he's so cute, smiling at you so charmingly while his cock is painfully hard in his pants, reddish tip leaking with precum and begging for friction :(

if he's lucky enough, you're gonna give him some VIP service meant for sol only and give him a head in the restroom stall while he's struggling to keep in the pathetic whines and whimpers when you swirl your tongue around the throbbing tip, slurping on the precum leaking from the slit <3

[spideyhexx]

where you're not Billy's (yet) and get jealous <3 mdni

Billy wasn't yours. You knew that. It helped to remind yourself that you weren't his either. You could easily find another mind to keep your company, but you could never get yourself to even try. Instead those nights, you always returned to Billy, also in his lonesome, with no other woman at his side because he would always, already be looking at you.

That's how most nights would go. You would find one another like there was a string attaching you two and you'd fall into your bed, his bed, the grass, the side of a building, honestly anywhere he can get you quick enough.

Part of you always wanted to bite the bullet. Billy's made it clear he would pursue you more than just your late-night rendezvouses but you knew who he was. The type of life he leads and you're reluctant to let that bleed into your life. Fun little relations with him did not carry the weight his love would.

It was unspoken, but Billy respected it, he took what you gave him and that was better than nothing.

So in truth, you should not have had such a visceral reaction to seeing him chat with another woman one night at the saloon. You went there specifically to seek him out, not having seen him the past week made you antsy, but the moment you stepped in, your eyes found him, leaning close to a woman who would lean up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. His smile was easy, his demeanor relaxed, the flirty kind you felt used to.

Jealousy was always a problem for you, but it's never struck you this hard. Never has it hurt like it is as you watch them together.

Against your better judgment, you left immediately, and a restless sleep made you decide to ignore the cowboy.

Billy feels the cold shoulder the very first day. He sees you in the morning just as he rides into town, "Hey, doll, wait up," he says, getting off of his horse and tying it up in a quick manner to catch up to you, but he notices you didn't stop.

He jogs over, a hand to your arm, his big, warm hand to your arm, "Doll, you hearin' good?" He chuckles a little but you don't look amused so he drops it.

"I'm busy, Billy," is all you say to him, even though it pains you to keep your emotions inside, and you walk, quicker, away.

Billy's almost too stunned to speak before he calls after you, "Hey, hey, hey, slow down I just wanted-"

"I said I'm busy," you repeat, your head turning to lock with his gaze. The last thing you catch is his shoulders slumping before you turn forward again.

The entire week Billy tries to talk to you, only to get waved off or completely ignored until he just accepts it and leaves you be. You wonder if it's better to keep him at this distance, this way you didn't fall more for him every night you spent naked with him. But the pain in ignoring him was a devil.

Especially after you hear word that he got injured. Nothing major. He was in some scuffle and all you heard was that he actually got a little beat up from it this time around compared to other times he's fought.

It made you forget your pact to ignore him, knowing how often you were the one who cleaned him up. And Billy didn't seek you out this time. Maybe you fucked up.

You try the saloon, but he's not there. Who is there though, is his friend Charlie. You're barely even thinking through your actions as you walk up to him, "Charlie?"

He turns to face you, with a small smile after realizing it's you, "What's going on?"

"Where's Billy?" You don't beat around the bush with it and you try not to sound so desperate but you're sure you do.

"Uh, I'm actually not sure. Maybe go ask George over there," Charlie nods his head at the other man and you nod, turning your mission elsewhere.

You ask the same question to George, who's also unaware of where Billy is, citing he was back at the camp they've set up a bit away from town, but he's not sure if Billy is currently there.

It feels like a complete lost cause. Maybe even feels stupider that you've asked. Without much else to do and asking around the people you knew to be friends with Billy with no luck, you make your way to a spot Billy and you would typically go to.

In the fields, a small walk from town, where you'd sit under one of the bigger trees and talk. Or fuck. Either or.

A small sliver of hope pokes at your chest that he's there, but he isn't. You let out a sigh and sat down, leaning back against the tree.

You're not sure how much time passes until the sudden sound of footsteps jolts you to your feet. Your eyes lock with Billy, his brow is furrowed, and he's almost storming towards you. It makes your chest ache with relief that he's here. It makes your chest ache with anxiety over his anger. It makes your chest ache with desire because boy was he hot when he was angry.

When he gets closer, you see the cut on his lip and the worry overtakes your emotions. You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off, his hand grabbing your jaw. His touch is firm, but not enough to hurt you. Billy tilts your head up, leaving you no room to look away from him.

His words are rushed, "You were lookin' for me? You were lookin' for me, huh?" A scoff leaves his lips after he speaks. His voice is gruff, almost demanding an answer than just curiosity. You swallow your desire.

"Well. Yeah, I was, I heard you got hurt and-"

He moves in closer, close enough that your back leans against the tree and you can smell him. The slight scent of whiskey, campfire and just him was enough to get you dizzy. It's dark, but you can see the tick in his jaw and the intake of breath he gets.

"Here I am," he says, taking his hand off your jaw and gesturing to himself, "What do you want?" There's a snap to his words and you know he's angry about your avoidance of him.

"I was trying to say I heard you got hurt and I wanted to...make sure you were okay," you get your words out slowly, your eyes never leaving his as he rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Right. So it took me gettin' hurt for you to find me?" There's pain in his tone when he says it and it makes you shake your head.

"Billy-"

"Doll, what did I do? We were fine and then suddenly you were actin' like I fucked up bad. I can't recall anythin' I could've done to deserve that from you," he says, crowding your space till the brim of his hat bumps into your head. Billy seems to get annoyed with it so he haphazardly takes it off dropping it to the ground at your feet.

"I saw you with that...woman or whatever...you...," You take a deep breath to keep yourself in check before you start speaking again, "I went to the saloon to find you and you were all up close with some girl and I just..."

When you let yourself trail off, you glance up at him and see the anger still full in his eyes.

"I wasn't...that was Manuela. Charlie's wife, doll. Can promise you, I am not gettin' sweet with her," Billy says, his brow still furrowed. It made you feel even more embarrassed that you jumped to conclusions, but could you help it? Women flocked to Billy easily. And he wasn't yours, you tell yourself again. He lets out a humorless chuckle.

"I told you I wanted you, you know?"

"I know, but-"

"I know. But I told you. And now you're jealous. You want me too?"

Billy is almost pleading with you to just say it. He knows it. But he's in desperate need of you to finally let it out. You're quiet, your head mulling it over in a frantic manner as he stares right into your soul.

He scoffs, "Darlin' stop thinkin' so hard. 've told you before. All you gotta do is tell me and I am all yours." It feels like you can't speak, your tongue is missing completely from your mouth. Billy's frustration only seems to increase as he rolls his eyes at your silence and his jaw clenches again.

His hands move to your hips, a firm grip, as he lets out a harsh breath, "What do I gotta do? Do I have to fuck it outta you?"

Your cheeks burn at that and he hears the hitch in your breath, "Billy, I-"

"That is it, huh?" He's mocking, finding humor in how heated you get over his words, his thumbs rubbing your hips over your dress. "Been missin' me these days? Got no one to look after you? Just me."

You nod, your head lurching forward enough to brush your nose to his and it almost makes him groan. "You're pissin' me off," he mumbles, like a warning, his lips almost inching to kiss yours, but he restrains himself.

"I'm sorry," you tell him, your breath lingering on him as your hands finally move to touch him, right against his chest. You swallow hard. "Don't know if I've ever felt this much," is what you're able to get out through your laboring breath. Billy takes that as enough, for now, pressing his lips hard to yours.

It's a bruising kiss. His lip was cut and he was fighting a wince, but he did not give a fuck about the pain right now. Billy was starved without you and all he can think about is taking. He pushes you back until you're more against the tree, the bark uncomfortable but that's the least of your worries. His hands pull at your hips to bring your body flush with his, slotting his leg between yours.

His one hand moves to cradle your face, mumbling to your lips, "still pissed off," and he licks his tongue along your bottom lip, nudging under your chin to tilt your head up more.

"Good," you mutter back to him before happily opening your mouth to him, tugging on the handkerchief at his neck to pull him as close as he can be.

He hums at your words, "Oh? You like me mad or somethin' doll?" Billy's hand at your hip holds you tighter, "is that why you're doin' this to me?"

You don't answer, your lips trailing along his jaw and to his neck. Your hand grasps the back of his head, pulling his head back a little to expose more of his neck, enough to find his spot that you found. That he didn't even know about until he slept with you.

As you suck at the spot, biting the skin enough to leave the start of a mark, Billy refrains from moaning, but you hear him mumble, "fuck's sake," before he's pulling back from you and taking his belt off.

"Ground?" He takes his belt off so easily it distracts you, but you nod.

"Ground," you reply, moving yourself to the grass. Billy doesn't waste a second, taking his jacket off and laying it out so you can sit on it.

He nudges you to lay back and gets on you so quick, it makes your breath run fast. "Billy," your voice is breathy, his head burying into your neck, leaving surprisingly soft kisses as he fumbles to push his pants down.

You help the best you can, then swat his hand away to fish his cock from his underwear yourself. Billy lets out a low groan when he feels your hand wrap around him. You hum, stroking the length of him once, then twice before taking him out.

"Tell me you missed this or I think I'll actually go crazy, doll," he mutters, his kisses finding your jaw.

"Now I wanna see you go crazy," you joke under your breath, but Billy isn't having any of that.

"Fuckin'...fine. That's what you want?" His hands are under your dress in an instant, and find your undergarments, the thin linen being harshly ripped from your body.

"Billy! Did you actually rip them, I-"

"Darlin' please be fuckin' quiet," he rasps, and you pull hard on his hair in his response. He laughs.

"Missed you. Pissed at you. But still want you just as fuckin' much," he whispers, giving your cheek a kiss as he hikes your legs up around him, his hips slotting to yours.

Billy's hand finds himself, guiding his dick to rub at your clit, both of you letting out shaky sighs at the feeling. His nose smushes to your cheek, eyes stuck on you to watch you react to him.

"Oh, honey," he whispers as his tip rubs through your folds, feeling just how slick you are. The head of his cock catches at your entrance and you both moan in unison again. Billy slowly pushes the tip into you, groaning over it and helping you wrap your legs tighter to him.

"There you go. Still take it good, hm?" He doesn't let you even try to answer him as he thrusts the rest of himself into you, his knees shifting in the grass to adjust his position. Billy grips your hips hard, thumbs pressing to the underside of your thighs as he begins fuck himself into you.

A moan rattles through you, your head pushing back against the ground at his immediate quick pace. You grasp at his shoulder, your other hand tangling into his hair so you can pull it whenever he fucking quips at you.

Billy grunts, his head down and teeth nipping at your jaw, "You actually listened to me. Actually stayin' quiet besides those pretty moans. Not even talkin' back," he chuckles at it and then again when you tug his hair like he thought you would.

"'M sorry," he murmurs, leaving an affectionate kiss on your jaw. For a moment, Billy buries his cock as deep as it can be inside of you, holding still to feel you tighten around him. "That's it...you missed that?"

You nod, your words not coming, but he grips your jaw, "you can speak," he says, his hips snapping to yours, just as desperate as his kisses were before.

"I did miss it, Billy....so, so, so much."

That spurs him on as he opens your mouth with a push of his fingers at your cheeks, your eyes dazed and tongue sticking out a little like routine. Billy slows his thrusts as he spits down onto your tongue.

Before you can close your mouth, his lips and tongue are finding yours, a strangled moan leaving him and melting back into you. Billy's one hand still at your hip moves under you to wrap around, giving your body a slight angle as he fucks harder, his rhythm starting to break.

His kiss is sloppy, as is yours back, tongues a mess of massaging to one another, his teeth biting to your lip, noises tumbling from you both. He breaks the kiss to nuzzle his nose to your cheek, "please tell me you didn't fuck someone else while you were angry at me," he suddenly says, his eyes closed like he's anticipating the worse.

"I didn't," you whisper back to him, "I promise you," you assure him again, your hand rubbing through his hair.

"I didn't touch anyone," he tells you, "nothing," he pauses, giving your cheek the lightest kiss as he changes his movements, slowing down, sliding his cock out of you slowly, but pushing back in hard, his hand moving from your jaw to slip between your legs and thumb at your clit, "Just tell me."

A whimper leaves your lips when you feel his thumb, your hips bucking up, which only makes him want to fuck you faster again, but he holds back. You know what he means the moment he says to tell him and you turn your head head to nose back at him.

"I want you," you breathe out and you feel him let out a breath, his lips tenderly kissing your nose.

"Can I be yours then?" He slows even more, which makes you whine. Your eyes lock to his, his face strewn with hope and deep desire, you can feel the twitch of his cock and see the flutter of his eyes.

"Yes," you whisper to him, giving him a small smile as you ruffle your handing his hair, "then I'm yours?"

He groans at your answer and question, and his hips rock faster again, needy and full of so much want, "yes, doll, you're mine," he rasps out, "and you're gonna come just for me, yeah? I know you will, Bet you wanted me to come for you all week, I'll give you it," he gets out his words quick, your fingers digging into his hair and his shoulder.

"Billy....fuck...f-faster."

He chuckles, "Jesus, doll," he gives you a crooked smile, but obliges, rubbing your clit in tight fast circles as he ruts into you, his forehead pressing to yours.

A heat overcomes you as your orgasm washes over you, Billy smiling as he watches it overtake you. The way your mouth parts and your moan borderlines a whine, the arch of your hips to his, and the spasm of your cunt against him.

He fucks into you maybe three more times before he's pulling out of you, letting out an almost guttural moan, spilling on your thigh, the slight friction of the tip against your thigh is enough to get him hard all over again, but Billy pushes those thoughts aside to move his hands back to your face and kiss you passionately through your heavy breaths.

"Still a little pissed," he mumbles and you nudge your knee into his.

"Ow," he grins into the kiss, a bigger flush coming to his face when you start laughing.

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

Didn't expect me to write more about Sol, did you? Honestly, I needed to do more research into his character, after all, since I kinda ignored him in the game as soon as Crowe showed up. Like, no wonder he did what he thought he had to do.  

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

I mixed a bit of canon and my headcanons for Crowe and Sol in this one—yep, once again! This time, I kept it focused on just four kinks to keep it short and sweet. I'm still learning about the BDSM community, and honestly, it's been really eye-opening.

A close friend (college roommate: adding on the fact she adores Sol—Sorry not sorry, love) of mine has been super helpful, sharing and explaining things about the BDSM scene to add more depth to my writing.

A lot of my inspiration comes from her, along with the Tumblr fanfic community and the original creator's work. I try to blend what feels true to the characters while throwing in my own twist. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Starting, I’ve noticed that TKATB fans have their unique preferences when it comes to Sol or Crowe.

For example, fans who gravitate toward Sol tend to enjoy the idea of him being dominant—whether it’s being in control of him or just envisioning him taking charge. It’s that mix of power and intensity that gets people excited. You know who you are, you freaks!

On the other hand, fans of Crowe are drawn to his reliability, his deep understanding, and his caring nature. He’s willing to guide you through anything, offering both emotional support and strength. It’s comforting, isn’t it? And yes, I’m a freak too—I get it.

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

Naturally, I had to start with my man—Jericho, or Crowe, as he's known. He exudes a mysterious, almost savior-like presence, though the details are still unclear. I WANNA KNOW SO BAD.

His style is effortlessly sharp, and his quiet confidence makes him instantly trustworthy. Reliable, steady, and composed, Crowe is the perfect support when life feels overwhelming. His charm is subtle, blending good looks with an alluring personality—irresistible, without ever being flashy. 

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Crowe as kinky?

At first glance, no. Not. To a stranger, he’s too put together, with not even the faintest hint of anything unconventional beneath the surface. But as you get to know him, that answer begins to shift. Slowly, subtly, he reveals a side of himself that hints at complexity—an edge just beneath his polished exterior. However, don’t expect anything extreme or overtly wild.

What he does reveal is never too much but always just enough to leave you captivated—and maybe, just maybe, a little curious.

✑ Vanilla (Soft Dom…) 

For Crowe preferences! 

He's the ultimate soft, warm partner. Like, you just know he's all about the quiet, comforting vibes. No crazy power dynamics or rough kinks—he's all about that steady, affectionate love. It's Vanilla, but in the best way possible, full of layers. He’s not rushing anything, just enjoying the little things, taking his time, and making sure you feel heard and cherished. 

When you're with him, it's all slow and gentle—he’s not here for intense extremes. His love is patient, thoughtful, and wrapped in warmth. Every touch, every word, is like a soft caress, just so deliberate and tender. 

And honestly? There's no need for anything crazy. Crowe's happy to explore your connection, build that trust, and just savor the passion that grows naturally between you two. It's the kind of love that builds and lingers long after. 

Now… Crowe might be a soft dom—nah he IS A SOFT DOM.

Crowe’s not the type to push you past your limits just for the thrill of it. He’s not into playing mind games or testing how far he can take things. No, Crowe’s power is the quiet kind, the kind that makes you feel safe without even having to try. He knows the real strength is in taking care of someone, not in forcing them into anything they’re not ready for.  

When you’re with him, it’s like he’s always tuned into you, always listening, always aware of exactly what you need. He’s the guy who doesn’t take, but gives—gives you everything he can, with a level of care that’s almost overwhelming. And even though he’s gentle, don’t get it twisted—he’s still a tease. He’s the kind of man who’ll leave marks on your skin, a subtle reminder that you're his. But it's all in the way he leads, in that steady hand that takes yours, guiding you through every little moment.  

There’s nothing loud about Crowe—other than his moans and whining. I SWEAR he has pretty moans.

He doesn’t demand anything and doesn’t rush you, but he has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. When he touches you, it’s with a confidence that leaves you breathless but also comforted. He’ll press his forehead against yours, his hand guiding yours down to your stomach, just so you can feel his bulge inside you,how much he wants you, how much he’s thinking about you at that moment. 

There’s no need for words—just that connection, that intense eye contact that says everything.  

But yeah, he’ll also let you think you have the upper hand for a minute. Let you believe you’ve got him cornered, like you're finally taking control… only for him to flip the switch, regaining control without you even realizing.  

With Crowe, it’s not about begging or pleading for pleasure—it’s about your happiness, your satisfaction. His version of dominance is the kind that wraps around you like a warm blanket, soft and cozy. He just wants to see you smile, hear you laugh—moan, and whine under him, and know that every moment spent with him is full of happiness.  

So, if you're into a soft dom who values deep emotional connection, tenderness, and affection, Crowe’s your man! He just wants you to trust him, to let go and let him care for you. Let him be there for you in every single way, in every moment. 

And in that, he gives you all the security you’ll ever need.

✑ Praise (giving + receiving)

Crowe is all about Praise, and affection through words. Imagine him pulling you close, whispering in your ear while his fingers gently trace patterns along your skin. 

“You’re such a good girl for me, look at how well you take me, love. That’s my girl, always so ready for me, aren’t you?” His words make you feel safe, wanted, and cherished.

He doesn’t wait for you to ask for reassurance—he gives it freely, letting you know how much he appreciates having you around, and how much he loves seeing you smile. And when it comes to your body? He knows every inch of it like he’s got a personal map of your every curve and spot. He might even joke, “No one will ever know you like I do. I’ve ruined you for everyone else, haven’t I?”

Crowe has this vibe about him, like he’s always hungry to make sure you're feeling amazing, but don’t forget to show him some love, too. He thrives on hearing you praise him, especially when you whisper how much you need him, and how much he’s doing for you. The sound of your voice, the words you say—they get to him, melt him down until his heart's pounding.

Now and then, he’ll pull back, checking in on you, “You okay? Am I pushing you too far?” It’s not just about the rush for him. He wants you to be comfortable, to be in sync with him as he takes you through everything, slow and steady, giving you all that love. “That’s it, you're doing so well,” he’ll say, his voice smooth like syrup, making sure you know you're adored.

But here’s the thing: if you keep praising him, or if you’re the one in control, just wait. Crowe’s mouth? It’ll get filthy. AND I MEAN FILTHY. He can’t help it, don't be mean now...

I mean, you can. You giving him head? Taking his cock deep inside your throat, feeling he's about to cum, then you pulled back, teasing him. He'll say, "Please, my love, you were doing so good on my cock—please, please, keep going, I need that tongue of yours."

One of his favorite things is when you’re so into it that he can just forget what you say and speak directly to you, but in a way that’ll make your body react before your mind even catches up. Like, he’ll whisper, “God, you taste so damn good. Missed me, huh? Just wanna be filled up, don't you?”

His words drip against you, his eyes dark with heat, like he's speaking to your body, not even acknowledging your moans. “Such a good fucking pussy. Always making me feel so damn good. Want me to stuff you full, hm?”

And when it’s all done? Crowe doesn’t just drop it and move on. He’s got aftercare down to an art. He’ll guide you through it, keep you close, making sure you’re okay, settled, and cared for, getting ready to do it all again whenever you’re ready!

✑ Experimentalist

Crowe is the kind of man who never wants to leave any stone unturned, especially when it comes to experiences.

There was something about him that screamed experimentalist—like he needed to try everything, no matter how wild or unconventional. When it came to relationships, he was always up for anything, which meant he'd probably had more relationship experiences than most people you knew. 

His mind is open, impossibly so, and he had an insatiable curiosity that could never be satisfied. He’d never form an opinion on something without diving in and getting his first-hand taste. If there was something new to try, something out-of-the-box—Crowe was there, ready to explore. 

And honestly? He didn’t even need you to ask twice. If you suggested something wild, he’d be all in—his enthusiasm infectious, his curiosity never-ending.

However, he's pretty vanilla when it comes to experimenting, so don't expect him to go TOO hardcore. If there's a kink suited to his taste and he masters it? Oh, Babe, you'll feel it—so much in fact.

Take ropes, for example. Blindfolds? Handcuffs? Oh, he is intrigued. But, again, don’t expect anything brutal. He isn't the type to be into floggers or paddles; no, pain isn't needed for his skills. It is his anticipation. The slow burn of him carefully tying you up, not in a rush, but with the kind of patience that made every moment last longer. 

When his hands hovered over your skin, it wasn’t just touch—it was electric. He’d make sure to linger, let his fingers graze over every inch, just enough to make you shiver, your breath hitching in the air between you. It wasn’t about hurting you, not at all. No, it was all about the build-up—the moment when the ropes or restraints were placed just so, tightening the tension between you both until it was practically unbearable. 

And then? When you finally let go, it was a release so sweet and steady that it left you breathless. No rushing, no quick fixes—just a slow, fulfilling pleasure.

Adding on, Crowe loved the idea of restraint. Whether for fun, for art, or for that extra little spark of excitement, there was something about having you completely at his mercy. 

And if you ever flipped the script? If he was the one getting tied up? Like I said, Crowe will be just as filthy when he lets his guard down. 

✑ Dacryphillia

Okay, hear me out. I know what you’re thinking—"Crowe? He would never hurt me. Why would he want to see me cry?" And I get it, really. This is one of those wild ideas but just stick with me for a second.

You know how he’s all about emotions and deep connections, right? Get it?

He gets this deep fascination with what you feel and show, especially when it’s raw. Here’s where it gets interesting: Dacryphilia. Yeah, I’m talking about that thing where someone gets... well, aroused by tears, by the sound of you sobbing, the whole mess of emotions. 

So, let’s imagine this: You’re begging him, pleading for more. Your face is a mess of emotions, eyes watery, tears rolling down your cheeks. And yeah, he’s gonna ask if you’re okay because that’s the kind of man he is—always checking, always making sure. But if you keep begging for more? Oh, that’s when it gets dangerous. 

Each desperate plea of yours, each tremor in your voice, just fuels this fire inside him, an all-consuming fire. His eyes? They’re practically glowing, deep blue, and locked on you like he's drowning in you, in every little thing you’re feeling.

You can feel him there, so close you can almost taste his breath on your skin. His lips brush against your ear, a soft, teasing whisper sending shivers down your spine. "So desperate for me already, huh? We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet..." His voice is low, and dangerous, like he’s savoring every second of this.

You know he’s enjoying this. Every inch of him is hooked, and once he has you like this, there’s no going back.

Crowe’s could be teasing you for what feels like hours, driving you wild with a mix of pleasure and frustration. He’s pulled every bit of sensation from you, your body trembling with each orgasm, each touch—until you’re left aching for more. You’ve come undone on his fingers, his tongue, but now, you’re desperate in a way that makes your chest ache. You need him, inside of you, filling you up, but he’s holding back. Just barely, he brushes against you, grinning at the whine that slips from your lips.

His head teases your entrance, and you can’t stop yourself from begging, voice shaky, "Please... Please, please." You repeated. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as they fall helplessly. The emptiness without him feels unbearable.

Crowe tilted his head, the smirk on his face practically dripping with playful mockery. “Just please?” He dragged the word out slowly, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Tell me what you want. Can’t do anything unless you say it. What is it you’re begging for?” His hand slid up your stomach, hand pushing lightly as if testing the waters. 

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, the playful glint in his eyes shifting into something darker, more calculating. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

His grin stretched wider as you stumbled over your words, desperate and disordered, pleading for more. He could tell you were unraveling, and it only pushed him further, each whimper was like a small victory. 

“You’re falling apart, love,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need... just say the word.” You could barely focus as the desperation built into your chest. His control over you was unnerving, yet exhilarating. The tears on your cheeks were a mix of frustration and need, a silent scream for him. 

“I need you, Crowe. Please...” Your voice was broken, but he was the one who was in control, studying the way you reacted like a willing experiment.

Crowe’s hand lifts gently to your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears streaming down your face. He gives you a soft grin, his voice low and teasing. “Already crying for me, huh?” he murmurs, almost amused. His thumb, slick with your tears, slips past your lips, letting you taste the salty remnants of your emotions. "We’ve just started," he adds, a soft chuckle escaping him. 

Before you can respond, his hips jerk forward, pushing into you with one swift, forceful motion. The shock of it makes your breath catch, and Crowe can’t help but smirk, his eyes glinting with that dangerous, experimental gleam.

Every move, calculated and deliberate, is part of his twisted exploration. And you? You’re the willing subject.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

Sol is described as a “stinky basement-dwelling yandere”—ngl, this alone made me laugh. He’s a quiet kid, the one who lingered at the edges of every room, observing, never quite fitting in.

Beneath his reserved exterior was a complexity most couldn’t fathom. He’s incredibly smart, with a sharpness that slipped through his words when he spoke, though he rarely bothered to. His talents leaned toward the arts, paintings, and writings.

And yet, at the end of the day, Sol isn’t exactly smooth. He was hopelessly inexperienced when it came to relationships. He gets no bitches, and honestly, he probably doesn’t even try. But in his inexperience is a certain rawness, and once you did get to know him, he’ll flirt or charm you. But before, he just watched and wanted.  

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Sol as kinky?

Yes, let’s not sugarcoat it—he is kinky asf. Of course, he is. There was no way someone as quiet and repressed as Sol didn’t have a horny side, one he tried to keep buried but couldn’t fully hide due to his love for you. 

✑ Switch (A Pervert…)

Now, about Sol’s... preferences. 

From reading his relationship information card and playing the game. He is a paradox, a Switch in every sense of the word. He didn’t neatly fit into the mold of “always dominant” or “forever submissive.” Oh no, that would be far too mundane for someone like him. He's not a standard yandere people.

Sol is a man of extremes, a “pervert” in the most endearing, shameless sense of the word. He believed in living freely, without the shackles of societal expectations or traditional constraints. Ethics, morality, conventional roles—he’d toss them aside without hesitation if they stood in the way of his desires.   

When he takes the reins as Dominant, Sol is the type to lean into theatrics, pushing boundaries with a devilish grin and that mischievous gleam in his eyes. He had a talent for making the experience unforgettable, for making you feel as though the entire world had melted away, leaving only the two of you. But when the tables turned, when Sol found himself in the more submissive role, he’d throw himself into it with equal fervor. 

He’d challenge you to prove your worth, tease and push until you stepped up to the plate, and then—when you finally did—he’d surrender so completely that it'll feel like a victory worth savoring.  

To Sol, sex and relationships weren’t just about power dynamics or tradition. They were a playground for exploration, a place where the only rule was to follow what felt right. With his “anything goes” mentality, Sol turned every interaction into a kaleidoscope of passion and unpredictability. 

As mentioned, Sol, can’t help himself when it comes to you.

Let’s say he has this thing—Voyeuristic Disorder, to be precise, a fancy word for being a pervert. Dosn't care to see anyone else naked. Only you he wishes to see. He was obsessed with watching you, whether you knew it or not. In public or private, it didn’t matter.

He just liked being there, lurking in the shadows, soaking in every moment. Watching you do the most intimate things, completely unaware that he was there. 

There was something so exhilarating about seeing you—your bare skin, the way you moved, the little things you did when you thought no one was watching. He couldn’t resist. The way your body reacted, the sounds you made when you didn’t know he was there—it was all he needed. 

Deadass, I’m shocked that the creator of the game never added a specific scene where you were taking care of yourself in bed—you freak, oblivious to him sneaking a peek from the window, his hand on his cock, jacking himself off, doing exactly what he does best. Watching. 

He didn’t let societal norms dictate how he expressed himself or who he loved. He was unapologetically himself—messy, chaotic, and a little too intense for most people’s taste. But for those brave enough to step into his world, you, well, if you picked him, that is.

Sol will offer an experience unlike any other: one filled with unrelenting honesty, unbridled passion, and a love that refuses to be anything less than extraordinary.  

✑ Praise (Receiving)

Sol isn't the type of man you’d peg as desperate for validation—at least, not at first glance. His sharp, confident exterior gave the impression of someone who had the world at his feet, who didn’t flinch under pressure or crack beneath judgmental stares. 

But peel back the layers of this supposed nonchalant and cool type of man, and you’d find a truth that was much more human, much more raw. Sol craved praise. Why? Perhaps it was the lack of it throughout his life. His track record for romance was, let’s say, less than impressive. Not because he lacked charm or good looks—he had both in spades—but because his overbearing aura and unapologetic eccentricities tended to drive most people away. 

They didn’t understand him, couldn’t see past the way he challenged conventions. He wore his "loser" title like armor. After all, who cared if he didn’t have admirers lined up at his door? He didn’t need anyone... right? Yet, when someone, such as you, did manage to offer him an honest compliment, something sincere, it was like watching a dam break. 

His confident smirk would falter for a second, his eyes softening, betraying the vulnerability he worked so hard to conceal. Sol wasn’t accustomed to receiving love—real, genuine love—and when it came, it hit him like a truck

✑ Masochist

The first time you noticed Sol’s tendency to endure pain, you’d thought it was just his stubborn nature. He’s always been the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve when it came to you—raw, unfiltered, and unapologetically vulnerable. But as time went on, you began to see something deeper beneath that tough, rebellious exterior. 

Sol wasn’t just someone who endured pain; he seemed to embrace it…? almost thrive on it, especially when it comes to you.

Sol is, without a doubt, a masochist. Not in the twisted, sadistic sense, but in an almost heartbreaking way. He’d do anything to please you, to earn your attention—even if it meant enduring the unendurable. 

He could never be a sadist. No, he loved you too much to ever inflict pain on you, physically or emotionally. The very thought of hurting you would make his stomach churn. Instead, he channeled all his devotion into being by your side, no matter the cost.

There were moments when his tendencies became painfully obvious. Like he gets into fights back to back, defending himself or you—for example, the movie theater bathroom or the Campus library (With or without.)

You hadn’t/have even been there to witness it—Sol hadn’t wanted you to see him like that, bruised and bloody. But when you found out later, he brushed it off with that crooked grin of his, the one that hid just how far he’d go for you. “It’s nothing,” he’d said, wiping the blood from his lip. “They deserved it for talking about you like that.”

Or that time with Crowe. It had been an innocent moment, just you laughing at something Crowe said, but to Sol, it might as well have been a dagger to his chest. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, nails digging into his palms until they drew blood. He didn’t want to feel that way—jealousy mixed with self-loathing—but he couldn’t help it. Watching you walk away with someone else, even for a moment, was unbearable. 

It wasn’t that he enjoyed the pain; it was just that he could handle it, even when it tore him apart inside.  

And in the quiet, intimate moments, Sol’s masochistic streak became something else entirely. If you picked him willingly, He’ll trust you, and loved you, enough to let down every last defense he had. He didn’t just endure pain; with you, he could find meaning in it. 

A sharp bite, nails dragging down his back—he shivered under your touch, his body responding in ways he didn’t fully understand but didn’t question. For him, it wasn’t just about the sensation; it was about the connection, the way it brought him closer to you.  

Masochism, for Sol, wasn’t about pain tolerance. It wasn’t about how much he could take. It was about the way he found a strange, twisted kind of comfort in it. The pain wasn’t the point; it was the context, the giver—you. Sol would never seek out pain for its own sake, but if it was for you, if it meant being close to you, he’d endure anything.  

Even in the game, he seemed to attract hardship like a magnet, always the one taking the hits—physically and emotionally. Whether it was the bullies who thought he was an easy target or the way he seemed to hurt himself just to prove his devotion to you, Sol carried it all with a quiet, unshakable resolve. Because, at the end of the day, it wasn’t about the pain. It was about you.  

And he’d never stop. For Sol, loving you wasn’t just a choice—it was a part of who he was. If being close to you meant enduring the worst the world could throw at him, he’d take it all with a smile. Because that’s who Sol is. A damn masochist.  

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.  

✑ Somnophillia 

It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Everyone could see this coming from a mile away—there was simply no other possibility. Sol, in all his twisted complexity, had long blurred the line between obsession and affection, his love taking on forms most would never dare to comprehend. 

Some might accuse him of holding darker urges, like necrophilia, drawn to the lifelessness of the dead. But no, that isn’t Sol. Despite his obsessions, there was a deep-rooted sentimentality within him—a refusal to let go, to lose. If anything, he had made it clear in his own hauntingly poetic way: he’d rather die with you than live without you. 

Yet, that didn’t mean his desires were any less unnerving. No, Sol’s particular brand of affection manifested in somnophilia, a fascination with the vulnerability of sleep, the beauty of your unconscious form. To him, those moments were sacred—your body relaxed, your mind adrift in dreams. It was when he felt closest to you, unguarded and free from the chaos of the waking world.  

Before your relationship, it started innocuously enough—or so it seemed. He’d find ways to end up at your apartment, invited by some pretense or perhaps even through sheer charisma. And then, ever so subtly, he’d lace your drink with something to make you drowsy, to keep you from suspecting as his fingers ghosted on you. 

You lay there, utterly still, utterly serene, your chest rising and falling with the kind of peaceful rhythm that seemed to still the chaos of the world around you.  

It was maddening, the way you looked so untouched by the noise that haunted him, your lips slightly parted, the barest whisper of breath escaping them. Every exhale was a siren call, soft and unassuming, but it gripped him like a vice.  

His gaze wandered, helplessly drawn down the curve of your cheek to your lips. They looked soft, and inviting in a way that felt almost cruel. He wanted to press his own to them, to taste whatever peace you’d found and see if he could borrow just a fraction of it for himself.  

But it wasn’t just your lips. His eyes traced lower, following the lines of your body, the way your clothes clung to you, hinting at the form beneath. He shouldn’t be thinking like this—he knew he shouldn’t. And yet the thought of you, warm and pliant beneath him, invaded his mind, unrelenting.  

He swallowed hard, trying to shake it off, but the more he fought, the more vivid the thoughts became. The sound of your soft sighs, the way you’d move under his touch, how you’d look at him—not like this, not sleepily and unaware, but awake, wanting.  

God, he was losing it.  

Sol leaned back, running a hand through his hair, forcing his gaze away from you for a moment. But it didn’t matter—your image was burned into his mind, and there was no escape. Watching you sleep was his guilty pleasure, though his guilt barely lasted long enough to stop him from pressing further. 

Once the two of you were together, the dynamics shifted, but only slightly. Sol’s obsession deepened, and the lines of consent became more of a gray haze in his mind. To him, love was devotion—complete and all-encompassing. And if you loved him, shouldn’t you accept him entirely? Shouldn’t you trust him to care for you, even when you weren’t awake to see it? 

He was careful, always so careful with you, so don’t worry! 

His lips found their way to the sensitive curve of your inner thigh, his movements slow and deliberate as if savoring every second of this quiet moment. You stirred faintly, a sleepy whimper escaping your lips as the warmth of his mouth brushed against you, teasing and tender.

Sol’s hands gripped your hips gently but firmly; his fingers splayed across your skin to hold you in place. You tried to shift, your body instinctively responding to the soft, wet pressure of his tongue on your needy cunt, but his strength was unyielding.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper in the stillness. One hand slid up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb lingering for a moment as he marveled at the serene expression you wore, so unaware of the devotion he poured into every touch. “You’re even more beautiful like this,” he breathed, his words an intimate confession meant only for the dark.

To Sol, this meant everything. 

This was the essence of love itself—intimacy beyond words, a bond that transcended anything others could hope to understand. He wasn't like anyone else; he knew that, and perhaps that’s what made this feel so special. So sacred. There was a quiet possessiveness in the way he worshiped you, a deep yearning to etch himself into every corner of your being, to ensure no one else could ever touch the part of you that belonged to him.

And as you stirred again, a soft moan escaping your lips, Sol smirked against your skin, the faintest edge of smug satisfaction curling at the corner of his mouth. You might not fully wake, but you’d feel him—his touch, his adoration, eventually his cock. You’d know, even in sleep, that you were his world.

To be with him, you’d have to accept all of him. Every tender smile, every soft whisper... and every shadowed obsession that came with it. 

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

[theghooligan]

bloodraven being a tree and giving his great great grandfather sleep paralysis demons all season courtesy of harrenhall and alys: