(solomon smut? solomon smut. 18+)
‘is this guy bothering you?’ a demon approaches you in earnest as you and solomon are sat at a table together in a busy bar in devildom. your face is flushed red and there’s a slight glow in your skin from how warm you’ve gotten in the past 10 minutes.
you nod and smile at the kind demon who is hovering above the two of you, reassuring him that you are in fact very much alright. he walks away, satisfied with your answer. everybody knows who this recognisable turtlenecked mage is in devildom. solomon turns his piercing gaze from the demon back to you, as you look anywhere but at that damn smug white haired sorcerer beside you.
he told you earlier in the day that he was working on some new spells that he thought you’d really like, and he’d show you at the bar tonight. you thought to yourself that it’d be some sort of miscellaneous magic that changes the colour of drinks, or makes sweet things taste sour. he often enjoys playing around with silly spells like this and relishes the smile he gets from you when he does. but tonight, he’s relishing something entirely different.
‘y’know, i could put up a veil charm, temporarily obscuring us from view… but i’m enjoying this right now…’ he teases, knowing full well how hard you’re trying to hold in how good he’s making you feel as he examines your flushed, subtle smile now looking at him through pleading eyes.
you practically can’t move. nothing is visible to the eye, but he has summoned what feels like warm, thick tendrils under the table that are laced up your legs, gently pressing you down to your seat, legs pushed slightly apart, the ends of the tendrils are softly rubbing in circles at your now soaking warmth. he knows exactly which buttons are to be pressed with you.
at the same time, coming from behind, the same warm thick tendrils wrap behind you and slip underneath your shirt, ending in what feels like a projection of a solomon’s hands massaging and playing with your chest, in the same recognisable movements and patterns you’re usually used to from your magic teacher turned boyfriend. nothing is moving from the outside, nobody would suspect a thing. your cute outfit hasn’t been disrupted in any way, but you just feel everything so, so much. your stomach feels like it’s doing backflips.
solomon sits proudly beside you, as if you’re just another normal couple on a date at the bar. he leans on his arm, gazing at you as he analyses your expression, he can tell you’re enjoying it, albeit bashful.
he leans over slowly and places a soft, lingering kiss on your lips as you’re still wrapped up in the height of his conjured up stimulation and completely unravelling in front of him. pulling away gently, he smiles at you with a glint in his eye that tells you he’s also struggling.
he’s put you through enough, so he finishes his drink and he holds out his slender hand for you to take, signalling a ‘let’s get out of here’. the moment you take his hand in yours, all magic once enveloped around you suddenly evaporates and you no longer feel anything but the warm remnants as a result of the last 15 minutes.
solomon stands up in a composed manner, but pulling his cloak around his side in an odd fashion, covering up the now-very-obvious growing warmth in his own trousers as the two of you walk hand in hand out the bar together. his pace picking up as he starts desperately yearning to be alone with you. he thought he would last longer than this, but he failed.
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