“I go crazy, 'cause here isn't where I wanna be And satisfaction feels like a distant memory And I can't help myself, all I Wanna hear her say is: Are you mine?” - R U Mine? (Arctic Monkeys)
The clock just hit midnight where I live, so it's officially November 1st now, which means… our favorite emo boy’s birthday. I can't believe that I almost guessed his birthday correctly way before Fantasia announced it. I told a friend that I think his birthday was on October 31st, the same day as the Halloween party. Important detail: I said that back in May 2024. Yes, I remember this perfectly. Yes, I also laughed out loud like a fucking maniac when Fantasia dropped his official birthday.
As I promised, here’s some HCs for my babygirl Sol (I WANT TO AGGRESSIVELY BITE HIM LIKE A RABID DOG) anyways, hope y’all enjoy <3
ᯓ★ SFW
Obsession: Sol doesn’t know the difference between being in love and being obsessed. For him, there’s no way to love without infatuation and he’s willing to do ANYTHING to make you his. No matter who has to hurt, he is going to claim you as his one and only soulmate.
Affection: Sol isn’t into PDA, as he wants all of your reactions to his touches and flirtings to himself alone. So he wouldn’t show much affection in public. In private, however, he becomes extremely clingy, not leaving your side 24/7. If you try to leave his arms, he’ll probably start to pout and pull you back to him, where you belong.
Unhealthy habits: He has a lot of unhealthy habits tbh. He repeatedly bites his nails, has an irregular sleep schedule, and often skips his meals.
Domestic: Canonically a househusband lol. Although, I feel he’s better at cooking than baking, simply because he does not have the habit of baking (does not have a sweet tooth lol).
Alcohol tolerance: HE’S LIGHTWEIGHT Y'ALL. Sol does NAWT handle drinking well, LMAO only a few sips are enough to make him wasted. Sol is the “sleepy drunk” and the “silly drunk”: He becomes giggly and low-key clumsy during these moments, acting playful and even flirting with the MC, before he eventually blackouts. Unfortunately, Sol has an excellent memory, so he remembers every embarrassing thing he said and did while intoxicated. Damn, photographic memory can be a blessing and a curse at the same time.
Family: I don’t think Sol is ever familiar with the concept of a healthy familial relationship. Like, I’m 99% convinced he grew up in a dysfunctional home, so he might be a little awkward when it comes to starting a family with you. He’s not fond of kids (mostly because little ones tend to be afraid of him), but if his soulmate wants children, he would allow one. Although I think he would feel closer to the kid if they looked more like his beloved.
Relationship: It’s canon that he gets no bitches lol. He’s saving himself for the right person.
Jealousy: Oooh boy, where do I start? Well, he’s a yandere. Being jealous is already part of his default settings, LMAO. Either it's a situation where someone is hitting on the MC or if it's the MC telling him about their previous relationships, that’s got him internally tearing his hair out in jealousy. If you both are in a relationship, he wouldn’t even try to hide it.
Dates: He is not into touching grass lol So most of the dates he prepares for you would be at home. Either it would be a very well-prepared dinner or a movie night.
Vanity: He does not have a skincare routine. HOWEVER I like to imagine that he tried to use some makeup to hide his eyebags, before he officially gave up.
Patience: Depends. He’s very patient when it comes to you, so he probably wouldn’t snap at you UNLESS you try to leave him. With other people, however, he’s merciless. Will punch the face of anyone who isn’t his soulmate without thinking twice.
Music: Besides Tame Impala and Arctic Monkeys, I also feel he’s into Radiohead and Nirvana.
Morning: Not a morning bird, neither a night owl, but a secret third thing (a permanently tired pigeon).
Xtra: Sol has a comically large amount of band t-shirts that he only wears at home. Plus, his backpack is full of buttons.
ᯓ★ NSFW
- Even though he has no experience, Sol is a fast learner. So with a bit of research and guidance, he will make you feel good.
- Likes to bite you. A lot. And depending on how jealous he feels, he’d do this in places that’s impossible to hide.
- Sol is a sub, so he likes any position that leaves his soulmate on top.
- Sol likes taking his sweet time with you, so he’s not very fond of quickies (unless his soulmate teases him too much).
- He may or may not want you to tie him down and tease him lol. But do not exaggerate: he WILL tease you back tenfolds.
- Although Sol is a sub most of the time, he can (and will) dom in situations where he’s teased too much… or when he’s jealous.
- Sol 🤝🏻 Lan Zhan: Everyday means Everyday (if know you know).
- If you asked to peg/top him, he would just ask for time and place LMAO
- I don’t think Sol would be very open to using toys (TT) I mean, his dick is right there, why would you want to use them?
- Sol lowkey has a breed kink. No pregnancy. Just breed >:)
- Deffo has nsfw drawings of his soulmate.
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I so sleep deprived rn (TT)
Anyway, thanks for reading until here and happy (late) Halloween
The library was quiet today, save for the soft rustle of pages from students studying diligently and the occasional creak of the old bookshelves that your university so desperately needed to replace.
You liked it this way, a nice, quiet place far away from everyone, where you could just relax and be alone, and where Solivan’s eyes could follow you without drawing much attention. He was sitting nearby, alone at the end of the big oak table tucked away in one of the library’s four corners.
You had purposefully chosen a spot where he could watch you, presenting yourself out in the open for him. Pretty generous of you, honestly. You could feel it. Sol’s gaze, always lingering on you, his presence a shadow at the edge of your peripheral vision.
Occasionally, you’d glance up on purpose, just to catch a glimpse of his eyes meeting yours before he buried himself back into whatever book he had open, his face flushing that pretty red colour.
It was comforting in a twisted, intoxicating way. You already knew he was infatuated with you. It started off quite tame, to be fair; you hadn’t really noticed him before since he always sat at the back of the class, away from judgmental eyes.
But then the little things started. A shadow following you home, or that burning feeling of being watched.
Then one windy evening, you came back home to your apartment to find your window lock broken, and the place freezing because of it. Naturally, you freaked out. You called Crowe to come assess the damage, check if anything was missing, and to keep you company while you tied a flimsy ribbon around the latch, hoping it would be enough to keep your stalker out.
Unfortunately, Sol needed a lot more than ribbon to deter him.
That same night, he oh so easily undid your makeshift lock and slid right up next to your unconscious sleeping body, stroking your hair and holding your hand as if you were lovers.
Unlucky for him, you were a light sleeper, and the slight brush of his hand woke you. The room was so dark, save for the beams of moonlight streaming through the same window Sol had crept through not too long ago. You could only catch pieces of green and black hair shuffling around as you lay, somewhat petrified, in bed.
Then he spoke.
“My sweet pumpkin… sorry about your lock. I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear as he whispered to you sweetly.
You felt him shift, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before sliding out of your bed, bidding your “sleeping” self goodbye as he slipped back out through your window. By the time you scurried to see his figure outside, he was already gone.
The next day, his actions couldn’t have been more different. You met him face to face in your art class, where you were paired as new partners for the upcoming project.
“My name is Solivan Brugmansia. Sol for short,” he said.
It was the same voice.
At the time, your blood ran cold as you realized the tall, brooding man in front of you was the same one who’d been lying next to you in bed the night before, breaking into your apartment just for a few moments of bliss with you. You.
Were you creeped out? Of course. Scared? Maybe a little. But for some sick reason, you were flattered that he’d taken such a liking to you.
“Sol… like the sun? That’s so cute, considering you’re dressed so… alternatively,” you said, deciding to experiment a little.
You stepped closer, your hand brushing against the thick black-and-green choker he wore. Your fingers moved lower to lift the key necklace around his neck, examining it carefully. Hmm. It didn’t look like a key to your apartment, so that was good.
You looked up at him, offering a sweet smile as you stepped back. You noticed how red he’d gotten and how he murmured under his breath about how pretty you were, clearly under the assumption that you hadn’t heard.
Oh, you were going to have fun with this one.
-
Today, you decided to push him further and tease him a little to see how he’d react.
Standing up from your seat, you knew Sol’s eyes would already be on you, watching and studying your every move as you walked over to the English section. To be fair, you actually did need some books for an upcoming research paper but you grabbed one at random in all honesty.
As you scanned the shelves, you found the perfect target: a book just out of reach. You stretched your arm dramatically, fingers brushing the spine but never quite making contact. You let out a dramatic, frustrated sigh, even pouting a little as you looked up at the book, knowing full well Sol was watching.
“Having trouble?” His voice was velvet, smooth and dark, as he appeared from nowhere. His tall figure loomed just behind you, towering over your own, and close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his body.
You turned to him, feigning surprise. “Oh, Sol! I didn’t see you there. Could you help me, please?” You looked up at him with pouty lips and big eyes, clasping your hands together as you played the damsel in distress. And he was eating it up.
His pierced lips curved into a small smile, but his eyes, those intense, bright eyes, burned with something else. “Let me help you.”
He reached over your shorter body, effortlessly pulling the book from its place. His arm brushed yours, and you shivered, allowing the reaction to linger longer than necessary. He noticed. Of course he did.
“Oh, thank you, Sol,” you said softly, looking up at him through your lashes. “God, you’re such a lifesaver for me!”
Something flickered in his gaze. Satisfaction? Possessiveness? Maybe it was a bit of both. “Anything for you,” he murmured.
You took the book from his hands, letting your fingers graze his. A deliberate move, subtle but effective. His breath hitched, barely audible, but you caught it.
“Are you studying by yourself?”
Holding the book he’d just grabbed for you close to your chest, an idea popped into your head.
“Yeah, I was uh… sitting over there.”
Sol’s gaze shifted as he gestured to the big oak table he’d been seated at earlier. Thank god he’d picked a more isolated area to reside in.
“Oh my god, perfect! I’ll come sit with you!”
Before he could get an answer in, you zipped back to your study area to gather your bag and papers, carrying it all over to the empty table, save for Sol’s setup, and dropped it all on top.
“You don’t have to stay with me, you know,” he said, glancing at you as he slipped back onto his chair. “I’m fine on my own.”
“I like being with you, though,” you replied, your voice now more quiet since, well, you were in the library. “With you.”
He blinked, his cheeks flushing as he tried to focus back on his book, but you weren’t about to make it that easy for him. You slipped into the chair beside him, leaning slightly over the table as you pretended to skim through the pages of the book he’d grabbed for you.
“Hey, Sol,” you said, your tone sweet but laced with mischief. “Do you think Edgar Allan Poe was really that depressing, or do you think he was just dramatic?”
He looked at you, clearly caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic. “Poe… was a complicated man,” he began. “His life was filled with tragedy, but I think he used his writing as a way to… cope.”
“Hmm,” you mused, tilting your head as if deep in thought. “I don’t know, some of his stuff just seems so… intense. Maybe I’m just not smart enough to get it?” You leaned in closer, your shoulder brushing against his as you gave him a wide-eyed, innocent look.
“That’s not true,” he said quickly, his voice firm. “You’re incredibly intelligent.”
“Aww, you really think so?” you cooed, leaning even closer until your face was mere inches from his. His breath hitched, and you swore you saw his grip tighten on the edge of the table.
Before he could respond, you shifted, swinging a leg over to settle yourself on his lap. His entire body went rigid beneath you, and his face turned a deep, furious red.
“What are you doing?” he stammered, his hands hovering awkwardly near your hips, unsure of where to place them.
“Getting comfortable,” you said simply, wrapping your arms around his neck as you leaned in close, your lips nearly brushing his ear. “Is that okay?”
He swallowed hard, his hands finally resting on your waist as if he couldn’t help himself. “Y-yeah, it’s okay,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
You could feel the tension in his body, the way his breaths came out more quickly, staggered, and you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him. The hard press of his cock hidden beneath the layers of clothing between you only confirmed it, and you smiled to yourself, savouring the bit of power you held over him.
You hummed, pretending to be clueless about his… growing problem as you skimmed your books, jotting down notes here and there, while Sol struggled to even get through one paragraph of the book he was reading, your body on top of his becoming too much of a distraction.
The girl of his dreams, the one he snuck out to see every night, the one he studied so closely and had fantasies about, was, right now, in this very moment, sitting on his lap. Her plush ass perfectly slotted against his body. And it was driving him insane.
“Sol?” you asked suddenly, your voice cutting through his haze. “You haven’t turned the page in a while. Is it boring?”
His eyes darted to yours, wide and panicked, as if you’d caught him doing something forbidden. “N-no, it’s fine,” he stammered, his hands flexing against your waist. “Just… distracted.”
You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “Distracted? By what?” You leaned in close, your lips brushing the shell of his ear as you whispered, “Is something on your mind? You can talk to me, you know…”
His breath hitched again, and he clutched you tighter as if grounding himself. “No,” he whispered, voice low and strained. “I-I’m okay.”
You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, savoring the way he froze beneath you. “If you’re so sure,” you murmured, your voice laced with a little bit of concern. “Because if you need to talk I’m always here for you sweetness.”
Yeah that did it.
Sol’s pants felt so tight as the curve of your ass shifted on and off his hard, clothed cock, and he bit his lip to try and stifle any noises as you moved around. His hands gripped your waist as he spoke into your ear, low and raspy.
Sol’s hands trembled as they clutched your waist, his knuckles whitening with restraint. “Please… sit still,” he begged, his voice strained and heavy with need.
You tilted your head, pretending to consider his plea, your lips curling into a wicked smile. “Hmm, I don’t know,” you teased, shifting just slightly, enough to make him suck in a sharp breath. “You seem a little tense, Sol. Are you sure you’re okay?”
His eyes darted to yours, wide and desperate. “I-I need… I should go.”
Before you could respond, he gently lifted you off his lap and bolted from the table, his long strides carrying him toward the exit of the library and to the left, down the hall to where the bathrooms were tucked away.
You watched him disappear through the library exit, a slow grin spreading across your face. How adorable. He thought he could hide from you.
Leaving your things behind, you followed. The hallway leading to the bathrooms was dimly lit, the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing faintly above, reminding you for a moment of how shitty this university could be.
You pushed the door open silently, locking it behind you with ease and stepped inside, finding Sol leaning over the sink, his head bowed, gripping the edges so tightly his knuckles were pale. He was panting, looking as if he might pass out from just being teased by you, his hard-on visible to you as it strained against his pants.
“Running away from me, Sol?” you asked, your voice lilting as you closed the distance between you.
He froze, lifting his head up instantly, his reflection in the mirror staring back at you, panic swirling in his bright eyes. “W-What are you doing here?” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly as he turned around to face you.
You stopped just behind him, close enough that your breath brushed along the nape of his neck. “You ran off so suddenly… I got worried,” you murmured, your fingers trailing lightly along the edge of his sleeve, brushing his fingers with yours. “What’s wrong, Sol? Did I do something wrong?”
“N-no,” he choked out, refusing to meet your gaze. His hands flexed against the sink, and you noticed the way his shoulders tensed, his whole body tense with barely-contained frustration.
“You’re lying to me,” you whispered, stepping closer, your chest now pressed flush against his. You slid your hands up his arms slowly, feeling him shiver beneath your touch. “You’re so worked up, Sol… what were you planning to do while you're here?”
“I—I wasn’t going to–” he stuttered, but the words died on his lips as your hands moved to his waist, your fingers brushing along the waistband of his pants.
“Shh,” you cooed, standing on the tips of your toes and brushing some of his hair out of the way to press a gentle kiss to his neck. “No need to lie to me sweetness. I already know.”
His breath hitched audibly, and his hands clenched the sink harder as he fought to maintain control. “You can’t just… do this to me,” he rasped, his voice breaking with desperation.
“Do what?” you asked innocently, your lips trailing to his ear. “Help you? Because it seems to me like you need it, Sol.”
You let your fingers dip lower, teasing the button of his pants as you whispered, “So tell me… do you want my help?”
His resolve crumbled in an instant. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice barely more than a whimper. “Please.”
Sol’s hands gripped the edge of the sink so tightly, his knuckles were turning white with restraint, but his body was betraying him. He was trembling with need, his chest heaving, every breath shallow and hitched. You could feel his thighs tremble as your hands deftly moved to unzip his pants, undoing some buttons along the way.
You took your time, savoring the moment with this gorgeous man crumbling under your touch and gaze. Slowly, you pressed your body flush against his, feeling the heat of his skin against yours. You could feel the stiffness of his arousal, throbbing against the confines of his boxers, and it made your own… area pulsate in response.
“Sol…” you whispered against his ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. So desperate for me.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, his hands still resting against the sink, his body shaking as if he couldn’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer.
“I can’t… I can’t take it anymore,” he groaned, his voice cracking. “I need you… now.”
You smiled, a wicked grin spreading across your face. You knew exactly what he wanted, what his body was begging for. You slid your fingers down the waistband of his boxers, barely grazing his skin, and Sol’s breath hitched, his hips jerking forward in anticipation.
“Patience, Sol,” you teased, your fingers circling his cock gently, slowly, barely touching but just enough contact to make him shudder. “You’ve been so good for me so far, haven’t you?”
His hands flexed against the sink again, and he let out a low, guttural moan. “I need you,” he whispered again, more urgently now, his voice raw with desperation.
You didn’t make him wait any longer.
With a swift motion, you freed him from the remains of his clothing, your hands finally wrapping around his cock completely. Sol’s body jerked at the contact, his head falling forward onto your shoulder as a sharp gasp left his lips. He was so sensitive, so responsive, and it made your heart race.
“You’re mine now,” you murmured, your voice low and commanding. You began to move your hand slowly, torturously, teasing him just enough to make him squirm, but never enough to let him find release.
Sol’s breath came in ragged gasps, his body trembling with need, his hands gripping the counter as if it was the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart. “Fuck…” he muttered. “Please… I can’t take it.”
“You can take it, Sol,” you whispered, your voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’ve made it this far, haven’t you? You’re going to finish when I tell you to. Understand?”
He nodded his head, never disagreeing with your demands, his eyes were glazed with lust for you, his body twitching with every slow stroke from your hands. “Yes… Yes, I understand.”
Sol whined softly to himself, as you jerked your hand up and down. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard, only for you to sweetly tell him to open them back up, of course he obeyed, watching your slow, deliberate movements. The way you were hovering over him right now, your eyes boring into his, as your hands were wrapped around his cock, applying more pressure.
“You’re being so good for me Sol…” you purred, slowly sinking towards the ground, not caring about being in a bathroom, or even caring that you were doing this at your university. You looked up at him sweetly, asking him politely to hold your hair back, and he did it right away, after all how could he refuse?
He gently pulled all your hair back, somewhat neatly wrapping it around his hand, careful to not pull too tightly. He felt your warm hand gently stroke his cock, your lips just inches away, so so close.
Then you started to tease him. Licking up the underside of his length, gently pressing kisses from the base to the tip, your tongue teasing him as he whimpered and started to shake underneath you, completely submitting himself to you.
He could feel your hot breath as you hummed and toyed around with him. You slowly started to take his whole length into your mouth, inch by inch until your nose was pressed against his pelvis. He was in heaven.
Sol gasped at the sensation, his hand tugging at your hair as he watched you bob your head up and down, your hot, wet mouth, and shivered at the way his cock hit the back of your throat.
“P-Please… hah… pumpkin…” Sol called out for you. His legs shook gently as his climax slowly built up, soft moans and whimpers escaping his lips as he bit down on one hand to muffle his noises, your tempo never letting up as you continued to suck on him.
“Can I cum? Please… let me cum for you pumpkin.” He was begging quietly in the bathroom, watching you suck and hearing you make a muffled ‘mhm’ noise with your pretty plump lips wrapped around him, granting him permission without words.
Within seconds, his hands flew to the back of your head, pushing you down as he came into your mouth, moaning softly as he did, and you graciously let him, taking it all as you felt his fingers dig into your scalp. After a few moments he took a deep breath, releasing his grip on you, and falling back against the cool countertop of the bathroom sink.
You looked up at him sweetly, sticking your tongue out to show him that you had swallowed it all.
Freak.
Slowly, you started to stand up with a satisfied smile, your eyes meeting Sol’s pretty red-orange ones. He was still catching his breath, his chest rising and falling, his skin flushed with heat.
You took a step back, eyes never leaving his, and fixed your own clothes with a bit of deliberate slowness, just to tease him. You tucked your shirt back into your uniform skirt, your fingers trailing over the fabric that dipped between your breasts, noticing that Sol’s gaze followed your every movement, still dazed, and still processing everything that had just happened in the bathroom.
Once you were finished, you stepped closer to him, your body just inches away from his. You tilted your head slightly, studying him with that playful glint in your eyes.
“Guess we’re even now, huh?” you whispered, your lips curling into a sly grin.
Sol’s eyes flickered to yours, his confusion evident even with that lingering haze of pleasure clouding his mind. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.
You leaned in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “I know you’ve been sneaking into my apartment at night, Sol… I can hear you when you’re outside my window, and well… playing with yourself in my bed.”
You pulled back, eyes locking with his as you saw the way his pupils dilated, the sudden panic flashing in his gaze. “I’ll make it easier for you though and leave the window unlocked for you tonight, darling,” you purred, your voice dripping with both sweetness and mischief.
A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips as you straightened up, straightening your clothes one last time, watching as Sol stood frozen, his expression a mixture of disbelief and awe.
“Don’t keep me waiting, okay?” you teased, giving him a quick kiss, before turning away and walking towards the door.
You pulled it open, leaving him standing in the bathroom alone to process what had just happened, as you stepped out into the hallway. The last thing you heard before the door clicked shut was his soft mutter, “Damn… she knows?”
You couldn’t help but giggle to yourself as you walked away, knowing exactly what would happen that night. He was yours from now on.
Ohhhhh I really want a yan!visual novel or just pierrot x Mitsuri!Reader!!!!!
(I love your storys so muchhh!!!!"
𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐈!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑🍡💓
How would yandere visual novels react to a mitsuri!reader.
The beauty of her face was beyond my wildest dreams
Like cherry blossoms blooming in the mountain in the early spring
As we walked by the river and she softly took hold of my hand
That's when I fell deep in love with the girl made in Japan
Visual novel x mitsuri!reader ( TKATB, 14DWY, Binary Star Hero, The Freak Circus )
Solivan Brugmansia ( The Kid At The Back )
Oh he absolutely adored you. You are absolutely beautiful and captivating like the cherry blossoms. He doesn't care about your abnormal strength, he is absolutely starstruck by you. Since you have an interest in the arts, both of you would paint each other.
He would be there to comfort you about your strength and insecurities–feeling insecure about your appetite, don't worry he is there to comfort you and kiss those ugly thoughts away. If you are unable to love yourself, he would absolutely willingly do the honors. He even gets you a pair of hand warmers that look like his. He would look at you when you're eating as if he saw an angel that bestows it's divine presence to him.
When you change yourself and as well as when he finds out that your natural black hair was dyed to hide your pink and green hair, he would monitor everything. Making sure, you are eating enough and as well as not hiding your true self. Why need the approval of others while you have him only–you don't need anybody, just him.
Ren / [ REDACTED ] ( 14 Days With You )
Oh you guys are matching, hes still remembers the day he saw you. It was a hard time to find you and luckily he did. Time has changed both of you but one thing for certain is that you grow much more beautiful than ever before, unfortunately you were unable to see it.
He still remembers the day you go to the park with your pink hair, you were fine with it until a group of kids decided to make fun of it. He managed to scare them away, but the damage was already done. He no longer see you with it anymore, ren always knows that you are stronger than the adults and yet so fragile and easily insecure of your strength.
When you told him, you are looking for your true love as well as looking for a husband to protect you. He would absolutely start to work out more than before, if only you and him met sooner–then you wouldn't be so lonely. He promised to make up all those lost times, and make sure you felt love every single day.
Ray ( Binary Star Hero )
Even though both of you came from different organizations ( this au the demon slayer corp is public ), ray would absolutely find you captivating and off putting. He understands the brutality of the demon slayer corps and as well as stories about how brutal the deaths are for demon slayers–torn, eaten, burnt those are just the surface level–theres worse.
Ray would never have thought of meeting someone from that organization to be so... happy as well as having another off putting reason, of wanting to find a husband. Regardless, ray enjoy the part that at least you are honest about your intentions rather than hiding it as well as taking it seriously.
Your uniform is quite... Something, after learning that the pervert kakushi purposely designed it like that he may be quiet on the inside-but deep down he's furious. Unfortunately, you have to go back to Japan since the mission in America was already finished. Ray would look understanding but he doesn't want you to go but I guess he can fly over there to meet you and give a personal visit to the kakushi who designed your uniform, don't worry he's not going anywhere.
Pierrot ( The Freak Circus )
Pierrot was stunned that a bystander decided to help him, a human...help him and defend him. He wants to meet you, but unfortunately you were too fast for him to catch up–which is surprising since he's kind is faster than any human, how strange... Whatever he is too starstruck to notice the red flags.
You also saved him, in an alleyway–a demon cornered him and was about to attack him thinking that he was a human wearing a circus outfit, he was about to crush his head when your figure landed in front of him–putting yourself between the demon. Putting yourself between him and danger, protecting him HE IS ABSOLUTELY HOOK. While you were fighting the demon, he is behind there memorizing your movement and how you fight.
The kanji in your uniform and sword concluded that you are from the demon slayer corp, an organization that defends humanity from demons. Jester and ticket taker would usually warn him and the others to stir clearly about crossing a slayer, because they might point their blades at them–despite them not being demons, if you're not human then you are a demon that's what he jester tells him. Despite the warning, he's still determined to be you.
𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓈: sol x gn! reader · crowe x gn! reader · smut · kink exploration · 3am reading vibes · short & sweet headcanons · playful teasing · canonical + headcanon mix · reader as observer · light dom/sub undertones · spicy content · slightly unhinged fantasies
𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Ah, kinks—everyone’s got ’em, especially us fanfic addicts. Soft, spicy, or delightfully unhinged, there’s always that one thing that hits just right. You know the vibe: it’s 3 AM, you’re scrolling AO3, Tumblr, or Wattpad, hunting for that one trope that makes your brain and heart go yep, that one. Guilty? Same.
For this little experiment, I mashed a bit of canon with my own headcanons for Crowe and Sol—because why not? This time, I narrowed it down to just four kinks, short, sweet, and spicy.
Buckle up—it’s gonna be a fun ride.
𝓌𝒸: 19k
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 the man himself—Jericho, or Crowe, as he's known. Though the details are still unclear, he exudes a mysterious, almost savior-like presence. 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 with his cock, grinning at the whine that slips from your lips.
His fingers tease 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, love. What is it you’re begging for?” His hand slid up your stomach, hand pushing down lightly as if testing the waters.
A soft moan released from your lips as 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 soft gin 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 running down 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 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. Even the shadowed obsession that came with it.
♤ — 𝓉𝓀𝒶𝓉𝒷 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉
iyayadonna, all rights reserved. — ⋆˚ ᓭི༏ᓯྀ ꩜ 。⋆ .ᐟ
I'm 13 days late for Valentine's day SORRY GUYS!!! BTW if this gets to 1000 likes I'll draw Crowe smth like this lol (also the uncensored will be on my bluesky soon)
꩜ – SOLIVAN BRUGMANSIA :: what happens when you put sol in the friendzone?
1/2 .ᐟ.ᐟ – (18+) :: content – tkatb sol x gn!reader, yandere, obsessive/possessive dynamics, toxicity, dubcon/non-con, stalking, implied somnophilia
friendzoned!sol who is too sweet about the fact that you’d told him you weren’t ready and that you just wanted to be friends, just until you figure out how it is you feel exactly. even when he’d poured his heart and soul out into his confession.
in fact, sol liked to think he was barely heartbroken — sure, he wanted you badly, wanted to spend every waking hour holding you hand and cooking you meals and cuddling you to sleep, but he also just wanted you period.
and this wasn’t technically a no. it’s just a maybe. and for you? sol was nothing but absolutely patient.
friendzoned!sol who quickly learns that he hates being hyper-aware of where he stands, which is about 500 light years too far from where he really wants to stand. he’s fucking patient. he’s sweet. he never oversteps, hugs you and lets you go the minute you loosen up, buys you food and walks you home like a good friend. but he hates how he has no right to hate when you’re not with him.
when you’re staring at anyone else. sol thinks those eyes are his.
friendzoned!sol who needs you to run to him when no one else understands you — because no one else does. so he’s always waiting by his phone, preparing your favorite snacks for when you call him crying, asking him to come over because you were just so alone. he’s never going to make you wait any longer than five minutes; sol is at your doorstep before you can cry or bury your face into anything (or anyone) else.
friendzoned!sol hates himself for how selfish he is. in his defense, you’re torturing him without even realizing it; you’ve become so affectionate ever since you’d told him you just want to be friends right now, and part of him thinks it’s because you feel guilty. in a way, it’s endearing; you’ve always been too sweet, too kind to him. but whenever you hug him, whenever your hair tickles the skin of his neck or your eyes beam back at him, he loses focus.
he’ll inhale lungfuls of your perfume when you’re crying into his shoulder, as if trying to memorize the scent; he’ll offer you his sweaters and his t-shirts when you’re cold because he cares (and wants people to know who you really belong to). he’ll steal a kiss from your cheek when you’re upset under the guise of comforting you.
sol knows it’s selfish, especially when you’re so gentle, allowing yourself to be so vulnerable around him — but if he can’t have you yet, he’ll settle. he’ll be the puppy lapping at whatever scraps you graciously give him.
friendzoned!sol, who grows braver, playing around with the line seperating friendship with something else, as you learn to trust him more.
he sees the way you seem to smile more when he comes to sit with you. when he invites you to skip classes with him. when he’s the one staying with you until you fall asleep after walking you back to your apartment. and he’s starting to say more — you deserve to know you’re beautiful, deserve to be drawn in your focused stupor in the classroom, or in the dark when you’re asleep and your hair is all tangled up.
you deserve to be needed, not wanted. and sol needs you. badly. even if you’ll only have him as a friend (for now!)
friendzoned!sol, who’s more than friends with you for a few hours at a time; that is, when you’re asleep. he’s not just your fucking friend, not when his fingertips are cradling your cheeks as you snore quietly, tracing your jawline like you’re made of porcelain.
sol can’t possibly be just your friend when he’s the one in bed next to you every night — even when you don’t realize it.
even when you’re out cold. he wishes he didn’t have to knock you out to finally be your lover, but again, he’s settling for what he’ll get.
friendzoned!sol, who dreams of being more as he presses his nose into the crook of your neck and inhales. as he listens to the soft sound of your breathing — inhale, exhale — as if it’s gospel. as he presses soft, open-mouthed kisses to the space between your jawline and your neck, gripping your waist tight with his fingertips to ground himself.
“fuck,” sol all but whimpers, engulfed in your aroma. “haah. you smell perfect. my best friend.”
it’s all your fault, really. how could sol just be your friend when you’re everything he’s ever wanted – good enough to eat –always pressed against him so delectably like a missing puzzle piece?
he’s greedy as he tugs your resting frame closer into his chest, unwrapping the sheets gently and revealing your collarbone beneath your blanket. sol’s breath hitches.
his head dips down, tongue licking a steady stripe, tracing the shape of your bones, all the way up to your lips. and then he’s sucking at your mouth, moaning at the way you hum groggily without stirring awake.
would you dream of him? would you make those sounds for him and only him?
fuck.
friendzoned!sol who’ll always be your friend.
who’ll always be sweet on you, who’ll be at your beck and call as long as you have the ability to tell him. and since he’s just such a good friend, he’ll always be there to tuck you back into your blanket and press soft kisses to your forehead as he lets you drift back into deeper sleep. he’ll always make sure he’s as quiet as possible when he’s climbing back out of your window.
friendzoned!sol, who’s just your friend — until you realize that you always have been and always will be only his.
@ ttakdoll, 2026
got sidetracked writing something else so here's a short for my beautiful boy !
𝕊𝕪𝕟𝕠𝕡𝕤𝕚𝕤: Do you know what would bring two enemies together? A movie day!
𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: pure smut, nothing else-
𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2,122
𝕊𝕠𝕝 𝕩 ℂ𝕣𝕠𝕨𝕖 𝕩 𝔽𝕖𝕞!ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣
𝟙𝟠+ !!ℕ𝕆 𝕄𝕀ℕ𝕆ℝ𝕊!!
ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: ℙ𝕃𝔼𝔸𝕊𝔼 ℝ𝔼𝔸𝔻: I was making this while I was sick before (I got over being sick only to freaking become sick AGAIN!) But it's not that bad this time. It's what happens when you have a horrible heart and a bad immune system TvT
I wrote this because I needed practice for my smut scenes so...
✍️(◔◡◔)
Anyways, here you go, for all my Sol and Crowe fans!
Enjoy!!~
You’ve had… better ideas than this.
Much better ideas than this. And regretted a few. But you couldn’t decide if this was a regrettable decision or the best decision you’ve ever made. All you tried to do was to get your two guy best friends to get along, is that too much to ask?
Apparently it is.
That morning, you had texted both of them separately, asking them to come over around noon for a movie you bought the day before. Sure, you didn’t say that the other one was coming as well, but there wasn’t any harm in a surprise, was there? At least you didn’t think so.
Crowe was the first to show up, ten minutes early. Not that it had bothered you. You had told him to wait on the couch while you finish getting everything ready. And he did just that, waiting patiently, thinking that it would be only you two. Until there was another knock on the door five minutes later, and it was none other than Sol. Who else would it have been, really?
But as soon as the two guys saw each other, the room felt… tense. You could probably cut through the air with a knife from how suffocating it was.
You were sitting in between them on your couch, the movie playing in front of you three, but no one was watching it. Sol was busy throwing glares in Crowe’s direction. Crowe was trying to focus on the movie, but obviously couldn’t because of Sol. And you were just.. there. Right in the middle of their… whatever this was they were doing.
This was so bad. You just wanted them to get along for one afternoon.
You reached for the popcorn on the coffee table, picking it up and offering some to Crowe first, being polite, trying to break the very uncomfortable silence.
“Would you like some popcorn?” You gave him a gentle smile that made his heart skip a beat. Of course he took some, because it was you that was offering it to him. But the death glare Sol gave him didn’t go unnoticed from either of you.
You turned and offered some to Sol. “Popcorn?”
He tore his gaze from Crowe to you, a gentle smile on his lips the moment he looked at you. He shook his head, not voicing his answer before going back to glare at Crowe for even existing in your presence.
And with that, the tension is back. You tried to ignore it, eating some popcorn of your own until Sol grabbed your wrist suddenly, making both you and Crowe look at him.
“Pumpkin, your fingers are dirty,” His red-orange eyes flicked to Crowe for a brief moment, as if making sure he was looking before looking back to you. “Let me clean you up.”
You blinked in confusion, unsure of what he meant by that. “Sol, what are you–” Without letting you finish your sentence, he brought your index and middle finger up to his mouth, his tongue darting out to lick the pad of your fingertips, tasting the buttery and salty goodness of the popcorn and you.
Your face burned as he licked and gently sucked on your fingers, his eyes closing as he savored the taste, humming softly around your fingers, the vibrations sending shivers through your nerves. The warm and wet feeling of his mouth making gentle sucks sent a soft yet audible shudder through your body.
Sol finally pulled your fingers out of his mouth, a string of saliva connecting from his lips to your wet fingers, breaking as he opened his eyes, his face left flushed. Yet his eyes bore into yours, his pupils dilating the longer he looked at you.
Crowe’s expression was horrified at the sight before him. He couldn’t form a single thought other than the image of Sol’s mouth on your fingers burned into his brain. Was Crowe going to let this stand? No. This was war.
You felt Crowe gently grab your jaw, turning your head to face him. He gave you a gentle smile, his eyes seemingly darker than you remembered them being before.
“Starlight, you have a little something right–” He leaned in, his hand on your jaw tightening slightly, ensuring you wouldn’t pull away. “There.” His tongue licked the corner of your mouth suddenly, making your breath hitched from the contact.
Crowe gazed over to Sol, noticing how very closely Sol was watching. Sol’s eyes narrowed at Crowe, but it didn’t scare him. Not one bit.
As soon as Crowe pulled away, Sol let go of your wrist and took your face in his hand, turning your face to him a little too roughly before his mouth crashed into yours, muffling your gasp. Sol never looked away from Crowe as he kissed you, watching as Crowe’s face crumbled from watching you two.
It was a war. A war of taking turns on kissing them, of who would get your attention more than the other. And the kissing soon turned into groping and grabbing, a race to see who would be able to take your clothes off first. A race to get you into your bedroom while trying to kiss and touch you.
It was happening so fast that you didn’t know how to process everything, didn’t know who to touch first, who to kiss back. You thought you could feel one of them biting your skin, but you couldn’t tell who it was, not with both of their mouths on you.
When you felt them pulling you down on your bed, Sol tried to take over first, kissing you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth, letting you feel his pierced tongue exploring yours. Then you felt Crowe’s tongue on your body, his smooth and wet tongue running up your ribcage until his mouth found your nipple—capturing it and giving it a gentle suck, making you cry out against Sol’s mouth from the feeling. It was an intense sensation yet you didn’t want it to stop.
That would be a crime if they stopped now.
Sol’s hand slid down your stomach, then lower, before dipping between your legs, making you gasp as his middle finger rubbed up and down your slit, gathering enough wetness before bringing that finger up to his lips, pulling back from you to lick his finger. The soft hum of approval made your stomach clench from anticipation.
Crowe noticed your attention wasn’t on him, making him gently nip at your wet peak, making it ache more before he soothed it with his tongue. You groaned, tearing your gaze from Sol to Crowe, feeling him dragging his tongue from your hardened nipple and up to your neck, gently starting to suck on the hollow spot near your collar bone.
Sol watched for a moment, watching how the person he hated most left a dark red mark on the person that he loves most. It was unacceptable.
He moved down on your body, placing wet open-mouthed kisses along your stomach, moving lower until his head was between your legs. His hands opening your thighs more for him, fingertips digging into your skin as he buried his face into your wet cunt, his tongue licking up your wetness.
“Ah!~” You tilted your head back on your bed, your legs instinctively moving to close around Sol’s head, but he kept them open as he ate you out—licking and swirling his tongue as if trying to taste all of you, inside and out. As if he was eating something for the first time in a long time.
Crowe lifted his head up from your neck, smashing his lips into yours, nipping at your bottom lip before letting his tongue slide into your mouth, muffling the sounds you were making. The sounds you were making because of Sol.
It was so… erotic. How they fight over you, your attention, your lust. You wanted more, to see how far you could take them before they break. Before they tried to tear each other apart before either of them got inside you.
You leaned into the kiss, one hand coming up and into his hair, kissing Crowe back deeply and desperately. He groaned against your mouth, one hand coming up and gently grabbed your hardened nipple in between his index finger and thumb. He gently twisted it, making a moan rip from the back of your throat, arching into his touch.
Sol noticed. Of course he did. You wanted him to notice.
Sol doubled his efforts, moving his tongue inside you, fucking you with it, making you feel the ball on his tongue gently scratching you in the most pleasurable way imaginable.
You tore your lips from Crowe’s, a moan breaking free, a moan that made both Sol and Crowe’s cocks stir in their pants. Crowe gently grabbed your face again, turning you so you could kiss him again.
“Pay attention, my Starlight.” He whispered against your lips, but Sol heard. And he hated it.
Sol got up then, his mouth and tongue no longer giving you the pleasure that you so desperately wanted. He shoved Crowe a little but still hard enough to make him stop kissing you to look at the angry man.
“Hey, be careful.”
“You. Why can’t you just go away? Why are you always around like a damn fly?”
Crowe gave him a confused look, unsure what he meant, but Crowe didn’t really care right now. He turned back to you, seeing the rise and fall of your chest, your flushed and pouty face before looking back at Sol.
“Hate me all you want, but I only care about her.” He gently cupped your chin, squishing your cheeks a little, making you look even more cuter to them. “You can either continue what you were doing or move out of the way and let me do it. I have no doubt that after a few licks from me she’ll cum sooner.”
If Sol didn’t hate Crowe before, he definitely does now.
As if taking his challenge, Sol leaned down and pushed his tongue back into you, making you whimper from the wet sensation again. Crowe went back to what he had been doing; teasing your aching breasts, kissing you breathlessly.
The sensations were too much, too much for your mind to comprehend, too much for your body to adjust and to handle. Especially all at once. But then Sol’s tongue found your clit, using the ball on his tongue to tease it, flicking against it.
It was overstimulating. You didn’t know when or how it happened so quickly; your body became tense, tilting your head back as a hoarse cry came out of you as waves of pleasure crashed into you, seeping deep into your nerves and bones. And the evidence of it was all over Sol’s mouth and face.
Your body went limp on your bed as Sol leaned upwards, licking his lips with another hum of approval. You panted heavily, feeling Crowe’s fingertips dance along your burning hot skin. Teasing your nerves.
“I think that took a lot out of her.” You heard Crowe say, his voice soft and gentle, like a warm blanket after a cold shower.
“It looked like it did… but I think she can handle more.”
You lifted your head when Sol said that, looking at him as if he was crazy. Well, he was insane. For you. They both were.
Crowe looked down at you, gently cupping your cheek, making you look up at him.
“Can you handle more, my Goddess?”
The way he asked that, the way he worded it made you want to submit to whatever they wanted. To anyone else, it may have seemed like he was giving you a choice. But you knew you didn’t, but Crowe wasn’t the type to take like Sol was. He wanted you to say it. To voice that you want more from them, to take whatever they wanted to give to you willingly.
“Y-Yes…” You stuttered out, despite your core aching and your body in bliss. You still wanted more. You wanted all of them.
Crowe’s lips twitched as he tried to conceal his smirk, moving a hand down to undo his dress pants.
“Whatever my sweetheart wants.~”
You felt Sol’s hands running up your thighs, moving to grip your hips and suddenly pulled you down closer to him. You whined at the feeling of his bulge in his jeans pressing against your wet core.
In that moment, you knew that you did indeed have a bad idea making them come over for a movie. But it wasn’t regrettable. No. Far from it.
