Preview: Solomon needs help obtaining some "nectar" for a spell he wants to try, and asks you for your assistance.
Unbeknownst to you, the so-called nectar he needs isn't from a flower at all.
This chapter is also being posted as a part of my “Devil Doms” series on AO3.
I wrote this after getting inspired by one of @/shokujin-art’s pieces with Solomon and their MC Ethan!
WARNING: This chapter can be considered dub-con. If dubious consent makes you uncomfortable, please do not read.
“I need your help.”
The smile on Solomon’s face is a little disconcerting. After all, usually it’s not he who is asking you for help, but…you decide to hear him out.
“With what?”
Your gaze is openly skeptical as you regard him, but his smile doesn’t waver.
“I need nectar for a spell I’ve been wanting to test out for a while. I was wondering if you could help me in that regard.”
You blink at him, confused. Nectar? How the hell are you supposed help with that? It’s not like you’re an expert with flowers, and you certainly have no idea about flowers that reside in the Devildom.
“You…want me to help you find…nectar?”
He nods, bringing a hand up to his chin—his eyes turning towards the ceiling.
“Well…basically, yes.”
You narrow your gaze at his phrasing, concern growing by the moment. Exactly what the hell is Solomon playing at? You know he’s a bit of a sketchy bastard, and sometimes you feel like he can’t be trusted, but…so far, he hasn’t wronged you.
…that counts for something, right?
“Listen,” you say, poking a finger into his chest. His eyes widen at the action, and he pauses—staring at you as you continue to jab him. “I’ll help you, okay? But I better not be harmed on this journey to achieve whatever “nectar” you need. Got it, wizard boy?”
Solomon rolls his eyes at your nickname—catching your finger when you move to press your nail into his chest once more.
“You won’t experience any pain,” he says, laughing quietly. His eyes crease, a handsome smile lighting up his face, and for a second, you forget about your worries.
“I promise.”
The next weekend, you get a text from Solomon demanding that you come over to Purgatory Hall.
Today is the day—he needs your help with his nectar issue—and so, you pack up your bag and head over.
You’d attempted to ask him what retrieving this nectar would entail. After all, did you need to dress in hiking boots?? Would he be taking you out into the Devildom wilderness to try and find some rare, valuable flower?? But Solomon had refused to reveal any details.
He’d simply explained that it may take a few hours, and that you should just bring yourself, and any basic necessities.
So now, here you are—standing on the step to Purgatory Hall—waiting for Solomon to come and let you in. It takes a few minutes, but eventually the grand wooden door is pulled open.
“Took you long enough,” you mumble as he ushers you inside. The sorcerer can only laugh, keeping pace beside you as the two of you traverse the halls—heading towards his room.
“Sorry,” he says. His hand moves to wipe at his brow. You notice the tiny beads of sweat sticking to his skin, and curiosity fills you. “I was preparing.”
“Preparing for what?”
Again, Solomon reveals nothing. He easily laughs off the seriousness of your question, waving a hand in front of him as if to try and dissipate any of your worries.
“Preparing to retrieve the nectar,” he responds after a moment, flashing you a small smile. “I’ve been trying to gather the ingredients for this spell for many, many years, and this is the last, and hardest one to collect.”
“And…you need my help in particular with this…why?”
Your eyebrows are knit together on your forehead, and you’re sure that Solomon notices your trepidation, yet he chooses not to address it. Instead, he continues a few more strides up the hall before stopping.
You’ve already arrived at his room.
He reaches out to grab the doorknob, his silver eyes darkening playfully as he regards you. The subtle shift in his demeanor has butterflies tickling the inside of your stomach, and you swallow nervously.
While you’re not as magically inclined as Solomon, you can still feel the magic leaking from inside of his room. He obviously has something planned for you once you step inside, but you’re not sure what.
“…you promised you wouldn’t hurt me,” you remind him, pouting angrily—attempting to hide your apprehension. Your words have Solomon rolling his eyes, and he releases the door knob.
Standing straight, he jerks two of his fingers towards you, and suddenly a golden magic circle encases one of your wrists.
Your eyes widen in surprise, but before you can think to say anything, he’s making another motion with his hand. Quickly, the magic circle tugs you forward, and within seconds, you find yourself directly in front of Solomon.
His previously kind smile is now replaced with something more akin to an amused grin.
“I gave you my word, didn’t I?” he asks, free hand moving to gently brush a few stray hairs from your face. The gesture contradicts his current attitude, making you feel torn. Anxiety and excitement mingle in your gut—both turned on and concerned by your predicament.
“You did, but you’re kind of a bastard, so I want you to reassure me…,” you mumble, cheeks heating up as you stare at him.
This isn’t exactly the first time Solomon has used his magic to fluster you. No, many times now he has casually used spells to fuck with you—making you more sensitive to the touch, or creating a brief gust of wind to flip your skirt up while at RAD. It has kind of become your thing—picking on each other, with Solomon bridging into sexual territory every so often.
Actually...you’d made out with him a few weeks prior—both of you slightly intoxicated, and drawn in by the club music at The Fall—but it had never gone beyond kissing, and groping. Despite that, the sexual energy between the two of you had been palpable.
Yet, nothing had come of it. You’d mutually parted—preserved your friendship—and gone your separate ways that night. You’d assumed that Solomon simply wasn’t interested in doing those kinds of things with you—that any playfully sexual advances towards you were done in the spirit of friendship. Which you were okay with.
But…now that you’re standing here—hair risen all across your body at the magic leaking from his room—you know that he has big plans. And judging by the glint in his eyes, and the way his thumb is carefully caressing your cheek—you’ll certainly be in for a treat.
“When you step beyond the threshold of this door, no harm will come to you,” he speaks calmly, dipping down to press a soft kiss to your lips. Almost instantly, you’re melting into him—heart hammering against your ribs as your defenses are so easily torn away.
“Do you trust me?”
You nod, and his fingers leave your face. You hear the doorknob turn.
“I shouldn’t, but I do.”
He laughs at that, and in the next beat, he’s pulling you inside.
His room is just like you remember it—spacious, and dark. His desk is littered with an army of ingredients, and spell books. His bed is nicely made, and there’s a single, leather armchair tucked into the corner of the room, near the fireplace.
The only thing out of the ordinary is the golden blob of magic sitting in the center of the room. There’s an intricately drawn circle of chalk surrounding it—many runes, and foreign words tied into the dormant spell.
“I’m beginning to think that this “nectar” you need isn’t exactly from a flower…,” you mumble, sending him a little look when he once again uses the magic circle around your wrist to force you farther into his room. Solomon only smiles, guiding you forward until you’re standing inside the chalk ring—the blob of magic at your feet.
“To be honest, for the longest time I thought I was searching for a rare flower,” he says, sighing as he recalls his strife. His footsteps echo throughout the silent room as he scoots arounds the circle, shaking his head in disappointment. “This is a spell I found in an ancient text, and the words were quite hard to decipher. At some point, I picked out the word “nectar”, but figuring out what kind of nectar took far too long.”
As he speaks, you feel the spell at your feet start to buzz to life. And when your gaze flickers to the floor, you note that the blob of magic is starting to…move?
With each passing second, as the spell activates, the ball of golden magic expands and contracts—bulging here or there. You’re forced to divide your attention between Solomon—who is now standing in front of the leather chair—and the magic at your feet (which looks ready to explode).
“Solomon…,” you speak nervously, gasping when a second magic circle suddenly encases your free wrist. You turn to look at the sorcerer just as he jerks his fingers towards the ceiling—forcing your arms high above your head, where the spinning circles then merge into a single, larger one.
“H-Hey! You still haven’t told me what the hell is going on!” you stutter, feeling warmth on your cheeks as you realize your current state of vulnerability. With your hands bound like this, there’s no way you can escape whatever Solomon has planned.
“And yet, you still look like you’re enjoying this,” he teases you. You attempt to glare at him, but there’s no real power behind it, considering he’s right.
“Bastard…”
Solomon laughs at that, and he steps into the chalk circle without warning. His hands find your waist, and he kisses you without an ounce of hesitation. His lips are firm, and warm—moving against your own languidly, like he’s got all the time in the world.
The show of intimacy successfully distracts you from the ball of magic at your feet. Well…at least until the energy takes a new form—multiple, long limbs of magic shooting out, and wrapping around you.
“Mmph!” you squeal around his tongue, rearing back in shock. You look down, wriggling as the warm tendrils of magic climb your body. One is already hugging your waist—replacing the feel of Solomon’s hands as the wizard takes a step back—watching everything unfold with a self-satisfied grin spreading across his lips.
“Basically,” he speaks, calm as ever—as if you aren’t being molested by magic. His magic. “I finally figured out that the “nectar” I’ve been searching for is the arousal of a human. The product of their pleasure.”
His words have you feeling even hotter—an embarrassing gasp leaving you as one of the tendrils wraps around your thigh, and wiggles against your clothed sex.
“Really, of course I finally figured it out once I’m here in the Devildom.” He shakes his head, crossing his arms disappointedly. You bite your lip, trying to stifle another lewd sound as the tendril around your waist curls up between your breasts.
From what you can tell, there are 2…well, tentacles of magic in total—with one occupying your legs, and the other busying itself with your torso.
“I-If you need human arousal, why not use your own?” you ask him, already quite breathless. The sound makes Solomon’s eyes sparkle.
“What? You think I want to sit around and jerk into a cup for god knows how long?” he laughs, eyes raking down your body. His gaze stops near your hips, and he makes a motion with his hand. In response, the tentacle currently rubbing softly against your pussy pulls away—hooking under the waistband of your pants.
In one swift motion, it tugs the garment down your legs, and discards it onto the floor. You flush hottly, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to preserve a sliver of modesty—but the tendril of magic easily slips its way between your legs, once again rubbing against your pelvis.
“And besides, this route seemed much more fun.” He smiles cheekily, a dark sort of amusement lingering in his silver gaze. “I always pegged you as the type to enjoy a situation like this anyway. You know, a damsel in distress with a bit of kink and sex thrown in.”
You send him another look, but can’t say anything. Because…he’s not necessarily wrong. You can’t deny his words, nor can your body deny its reaction to your current predicament. Each pass of the magic between your legs or against your breasts has arousal pooling in your gut.
“Of course, if I’m wrong, just tell me, and I’ll stop.”
Despite the teasing look on his face, his words are genuine. He won’t do anything you’re not okay with. Even if he needs the ingredient for his spell, it seems he’s not entirely an asshole. At least, not to you.
“N…no…I’m okay with this,” you admit meekly, causing him to smile. “But…how are you retrieving the… um…”
You’re too shy to say it, now, realizing what the nectar actually is.
“Well, I did mention that all of this took time to prepare,” he responds, allowing the tendrils of his magic to continue roaming your body freely. It seems like he’s able to control them when he wants, but otherwise, they’ll continue working towards their goal on their own.
“Since I was able to get you to agree to help me out—”
“Without telling me what would actually be involved.”
He sends you a look—a little annoyed at being interrupted despite so kindly answering all of your questions.
“Oh I’m sorry—,” he makes a motion with his hand, and suddenly the tentacle around your chest is tearing your shirt away with a definitive rip. In the same beat, the tentacle between your legs slips beneath the crotch of your panties—tugging them off your body.
Somehow, it manages to discard the garment near Solomon’s feet, so he bends down and picks up the cotton fabric with a smile—the large spot of arousal hard to miss, even in the dim light of his room.
“—but do you really have the right to be sassing me about my ethics, when you’re already wet enough to stain your panties? Clearly, you’re turned on despite me not telling you, love.”
You open your mouth to attempt to defend your pride, but the only sound that comes out is a lewd gasp. The smooth magic between your thighs resumes its motions—now rubbing up against your wet pussy with no barrier. The contact makes you ache—your clit already so sensitive to the touch—and a satisfied grin settles on Solomon’s face.
“As I was saying,” he continues with his explanation calmly, but his gaze doesn’t leave the sight of you. With your panties gone, and your shirt in tatters on the floor, the sorcerer would be a fool to not watch the show unraveling in front of him.
“It took time to prepare. I had to figure out what would be the best way to retrieve the nectar without letting it go to waste. After all, sex can be so messy.”
Solomon pauses for a moment, soaking in the sound of your voice as you whine—your body flushed from head to toe as the thick tentacles of his magic keep their pace, rubbing against you in all the right places.
His slacks are beginning to feel a little tight.
He coughs.
“Basically, the raw magic will absorb your “nectar”, and will keep it trapped until I can draw it out.”
“S-So what?” you whimper, fingers helplessly curling and uncurling above you. His magic circle allows your wrists no wiggle room. “Y-You’re just going to sit here and watch your magic molest me until you’ve collected enough of my arousal for your spell?”
“Molest is a strong word,” Solomon says, seating himself in the leather chair. He leans back, letting his legs spread wide, and your eyes fall to the tent in his pants. “I prefer fondle. Or, pleasure. After all, you’re feeling a fair amount of pleasure right now, aren’t you?”
With a small inclination of his fingers, the tentacle between your legs pulls back—the thick, rounded tip pressing directly against your clit. It moves in miniscule side to side motions, and Solomon sees the way your entire body flexes—thighs shaking with each pass over your bundle of nerves.
“Fuck,” you pant, arms straining against their bindings. The wizard chuckles.
“Shall I make you cum like this? Or would you prefer to wait? Personally, I have no qualms making you orgasm until you’re begging me to stop, but I also don’t want to break you. You’d be a pain to put back together.”
“Asshole,” you remark.
With the tentacle still swiping across your clit, you know it won’t be long until you reach your climax. And while you know cumming will only serve to make everything more sensitive afterwards, you can’t bring yourself to pass up the offer of an orgasm. You’re already too close, and your body is begging for a release.
“I…I want to cum. Please.”
“Look at you, saying “please” even though you’re calling me an asshole.”
You so desperately wish he was within kicking range, because if he was, you would absolutely lift your leg and wipe that cocky grin straight off his face.
Luckily, the magic between your legs quickly distracts you from your anger towards the sorcerer.
As if hearing your plea to cum, it begins to work even faster—searching for the pattern that will undoubtedly drag you into the depths of your pleasure. And once it finds it—lewd gasps and moans falling from your lips—the tentacle keeps at it until you’re tumbling into your release.
Sensing your orgasm, the magic limb presses up against your pelvis. It slots between your folds, rubbing languidly as you experience your high.
You can only guess that it’s currently collecting all of the precious “nectar” that has leaked from your throbbing pussy following your climax.
“Shit…”
Apparently willing to give you a moment to breath, the magic tendril occupying your sex continues its slow motions. In its place, the tentacle that had been lazily fondling your chest until now gets to work. It fully wraps around both of your breasts—squeezing, and tugging—almost as if it’s attempting to milk you.
Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation—quiet, hot breaths filling the space in front of you as the tailend of your orgasm finally passes. Yet, you can still feel the embers burning in your gut, threatening to reignite with any simple touch.
“Feel good?” Solomon questions, drawing you out of your haze. Your eyes fall to him, heart thundering in your chest when you notice that one of his hands has strayed beneath his trousers—fingers enclosed around his length through the fabric of his underwear.
“Perverted wizard,” you speak instead, completely ignoring his question. The smallest of grins grace your lips, a breathy laugh leaving you. “Getting so hard from watching me. Shouldn’t you be ashamed?”
He chuckles at your words, looking amused by your wit.
Truly, you’re a fool to be speaking to him like that, as if he isn’t the one in charge right now. While he’s been kind to you thus far, he has no issue in changing that.
“Be a good cock slut and shut the hell up.”
He flicks his fingers, a fake smile plastered on his face, and in the next moment your pussy is filled to the brim with his magic. The tentacle reaches deep—snaking between your walls until the soft head is pressed flush against your cervix.
The abrupt intrusion has you crying out, wrists once again straining against their bindings as you struggle to adjust to the new sensation. And yet, Solomon grants you no grace period.
The magic begins to move—sliding in and out of your wet walls at a swift pace that has your mouth opening, but no sound coming out. At the same time, the tentacle at your chest squeezes harder, the tip of the appendage moving to swirl around one of your hardened nipples.
“S-Solomon,” you choke out, knees buckling under the intensity of his magic. The way his name sounds falling from your lips—desperate and overwhelmed—has his cock jumping against its confines.
His jaw clenches, fingers squeezing a bit tighter as he strokes himself.
“I’d slow their pace down, but I can hear how wet you are from here,” he remarks, silver gaze falling to the space between your thighs. As the tentacle grinds inside of you, small amounts of your arousal are soaked up by his magic. As they’re absorbed, the liquid pools in the main body of the magic—the blob still resting at the center of the chalk circle which is keeping his spell active.
“I called you a cock slut teasingly, but it seems you actually are one. How precious.”
“Fuck off,” you pant, body writhing as the embers in your gut quickly reignite into flames—hot, intense, and growing with each second that passes.
He laughs at your exclamation, pressing to his feet. With deft fingers, Solomon quickly rids himself of his pants, and underwear—the pieces of clothing lying abandoned on the floor beside your own. And when he moves forward—once again entering the magic circle, and stepping into your personal space—you feel your heart skip a beat.
Your pussy clenches around the tentacle still working inside of you, nervous butterflies blooming in your tummy when you see the dark look in Solomon’s eyes. Like he’s finally giving you a glimpse of the real him—not the kind façade he always shows in front of the others.
“If you’re going to use your mouth in such a vulgar fashion, I know a better way.”
Suddenly, without warning, the magic circle encasing your wrists presses downward—forcing you to your knees. The tentacles adjust accordingly, but continue their ministrations as normal. The new position, however, has you eye-level with Solomon’s weeping cock.
“Say ah,” he says, canting his hips forward. The tip of his length smears against your hot cheek, and you flit your gaze up to him—aroused, and a little scared.
He’d be lying if he said the fear didn’t turn him on.
“No?” Solomon tangles a hand in your hair—firm, but not enough to hurt. He holds your stare, his eyes expectant. Yet, he doesn’t force himself upon you. After all, he gave you his word that he wouldn’t hurt you, and while right now he would love nothing more than to stuff your mouth with his cock, he won’t if it’s pushing you too far.
You take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves (although it’s not easy to do, considering the two tentacles that are still very bent on pleasuring you for the sake of your “nectar”). Then—
You part your lips, hot breath fanning against his length.
“Aaah—”
Solomon looks genuinely surprised for a moment. However, he definitely won’t be wasting such a perfect opportunity.
“Truly a cock slut,” he says by way of praise—sliding his cock into your mouth before you can even think of responding.
The moment he hits the back of your throat—making you gag—you realize what you’re in for. There’s no way you’re making it out of this situation sane. Not with Solomon fucking your mouth, while his magic devastates your pussy, and fondles your chest.
In contrast to the quick, brutal pace the tentacle currently occupied with your sex has taken, Solomon starts off slowly. He rocks himself into your mouth, his silver eyes focused on you as your lips suction around him. Each time, he ventures deep—his cock sliding into you until you can take no more.
Tears blot your eyes, body tensing as you resist the urge to gag around him once again. Solomon notices your struggle—watching the way your fingers curl into fists. A part of him debates being nicer. You’re already struggling thanks to the ministrations of his magic, after all, and yet—
“You like it rough, don’t you?”
He reaffirms his grip on your hair—holding your head steady as he begins rolling his hips. He’s still not as fast as the tentacle devastating your pussy, but his slow pace is no more. No, he fucks you quick enough that you don’t have time to steel yourself for the sensation of his cock hitting the back of your throat.
So now, along with the wet, slapping sounds already filling the room, your frequent, helpless gagging can be heard as well.
To Solomon, it’s music to his ears.
“I don’t need you to tell me “yes”. I can already see the answer with how much of your arousal my magic is collecting,” he says, breathing a laugh. “Seriously, you’re the one that should be ashamed, Y/N. You stand there and tease me for getting hard, but you’re the one positively leaking right now. Do you want to be even more stuffed? I could create a third tentacle if you like.”
“Nn—,” you attempt to shake your head, tears finally rolling down your cheeks. You already feel like you’re going insane. There’s no way you’d be able to handle anything more than this.
Solomon grins at your response, purposely grinding into your mouth, and holding himself there. He watches as you flounder—body writhing against the bindings at your wrists.
Even as you struggle to breathe, you can feel the orgasm building inside of you.
You choke down a sob.
Solomon’s magic is relentless. You have no idea how long it’s been—how long the tentacles have been teasing you—have been trying to milk you for all that you’re worth—but it’s been long enough to bring you to the edge once more. And each time Solomon forces you to gag around him, you only inch closer.
“Mmph,” you whine pathetically around him, your body shaking as your pleasure continues to build to a peak. It won’t be long until you’re sent tumbling over the edge a second time, and once that happens, you’re not sure how much more you’ll be able to take. Your brain already feels like it’s on the verge of short-circuiting.
“This is a good look on you—,” he comments. Sweat has beaded on his brow—stray strands of his hair sticking to his forehead, and you’re mad that he still manages to appear so handsome despite his disheveled state.
“—ruined, and on the brink of orgasm. You’re going to cum again, right?”
Your noise of admission is lost around his cock as he continues fucking into your mouth. However, he doesn’t need to hear your agreement. He can already tell—what, with the way your eyes are practically ready to roll back into your head.
“You should wait for me,” he says, amusement tugging at his lips when he feels you whimper. “Can you manage that?”
Without waiting for your muffled attempt at a response, Solomon thrusts become rougher. He fucks into your throat, groaning at the way you instinctively gag and swallow around him. Saliva pools at the corners of your lips—slipping down to your chin and mingling with the tears that have fallen from your eyes.
You’re so overwhelmed. You’ve never experienced so many sensations at once, and while you try your best to hold out for Solomon—to be good, and wait for him like he’s requested—you can’t. It’s impossible.
With a strangled cry, you come undone. Your body thrashes, your head naturally attempting to pull away from Solomon for much needed air, but he doesn’t let you go anywhere.
“Ah, if only you had waited a little longer,” he remarks, disappointment in his tone. He lowers his other hand to grab your head, and more tears pour down your cheeks as he face fucks you to his heart’s content—even as your orgasm continues to roll through you.
Luckily, the sorcerer isn’t very far behind. He finds his release just as your orgasm is beginning to subside, the tentacles that are assaulting you finally beginning to slow their ruthless pace.
Gripping your hair, he forces himself deep into your throat—a dark satisfaction settling in his gut as he watches you choke on his seed.
“Swallow like a good girl,” he chides, one of his hands moving to wipe away your tears. As best you can, you swallow around him—puffy eyes turning up to him. The pleading look on your face successfully softens his heart, and with a sigh, he releases your head.
Immediately, you’re pulling back—coughing and gasping for air.
“P-Please, I can’t…anymore…,” you beg, voice raw. The tentacles have started picking up their pace once again--ready to resume their duty after having given you a few minutes to rest.
Solomon clicks his tongue, his silver gaze dropping to the mass of magic on the floor. There’s a fair amount of your “nectar” that has settled at the bottom of the orb. Enough that Solomon will be able to attempt his spell more than a few times.
So, with that in mind, he releases you.
The tentacle around your torso unwinds—your breasts feeling used, and sore from its touches. At the same time, the magic stuffing your pussy slowly pulls out—the limb soaking up whatever excess arousal you have to offer as it retreats.
Before long, the two tentacles have remerged with the ball of golden magic—the light from the spell circle fading as everything settles back into place. Once he’s sure that your precious juices are properly kept, Solomon waves his hand, and the magic binding your wrists disappears.
Almost instantly, you’re falling forward—catching yourself on your hands and knees, fingers smearing through intricately drawn chalk lines. Solomon kneels in front of you, brushing your hair from your eyes.
“You did well,” he says.
“You’re the worst,” you respond.
Your entire body feels like jello. You’re not even sure there’s any blood left in your arms.
He chuckles.
“Fine, I’m the worst.”
Grabbing you beneath your arms, Solomon helps you to your feet, and leads you over to his bed. He throws the sheets over you, and then moves to retrieve the blob on the center of his floor. He gingerly places it on his desk—resting it atop a plush cushion, like a prized pet.
His eyes linger on it for a few seconds, satisfied. Then, his silver stare turns back to you—his sheets rustling as you settle yourself in.
There’s absolutely no way he’ll be kicking you out anytime soon. If you can barely walk to his bed with his help, there’s no chance that you’ll be able to walk all the way back to the House of Lamentation.
Luckily, he doesn’t seem to mind your company. He’s got a heart inside of him, even if parts are stained black.
“I’ll go get some water,” he says. However, just as he’s brushing past the bed, there’s a knock at his door.
He pauses at the sound, and you hold his sheets tighter around your naked body.
Eyebrow raised curiously, Solomon strides to the door and pulls it open. Standing on the other side is a red-faced Simeon. He looks both angry, and embarrassed.
Solomon’s heart drops.
Despite all his preparation, he’d forgotten to enact a noise blocking spell…
“Oh shit.”
“Oh shit is right,” Simeon responds, crossing his arms. “You’re lucky Barbatos agreed without question to teach Luke a new recipe despite me calling him last minute. Once I heard you and your partner…going at it. You live with a child up the hall, Solomon.”
Solomon sighs. “I’m sorry. I meant to cast a spell to block the noise, but I forgot.”
“Next time, don’t forget, or I’ll have harsher words to say to you.”
“Very much noted.”
“Good.” Nodding, Simeon turns to stalk away from the wizard, but pauses.
“Oh, by the way, you mentioned inviting Y/N over this weekend. Are you still planning to do that? I’d love to see her.”
“Uhhh…,” Solomon resists the urge to glance back into his room, towards the bed where you’re currently hiding yourself. “Yeah. She should be over later. I’ll let you know when she gets here.”
“Good!”
Smiling, Simeon disappears up the hall. Solomon shuts his door, and from beneath his covers, you quietly scream.
“Simeon heard us fucking!! What’s wrong with you!!”
Again, Solomon sighs.
“Yes, yes, we already agreed—I’m the worst. Now pipe down, or I’ll have to shut you up again.”
When you actually cease your scolding words—glaring at him over the edge of his sheets—Solomon cocks an arrogant eyebrow.
Well then, he certainly knows the best way to get you to shut up from now on.
Pairing: Solomon x gn!reader
Genre: fluff
Warnings: none
Summary: you give Solomon the cooking lessons he desperately needs
Word Count: 1.3k words
A/N: Happy birthday Solomon and sorry that this is late!! Also sorry this is garbage. I just wanted to write a little something for the handsome sorcerer ᵘʷᵘ
“(Y/n), please help him! He keeps trying to make us meals and I’m running out of excuses!” Luke cries to you, grasping your hands in his. You stare at him for a moment before turning to look at Simeon.
“He’s not wrong. His cooking is atrocious but we don’t want to be rude,” Simeon says calmly, further explaining the situation. At get-togethers, you’ve been a witness to others eating Solomon’s cooking and then being warned not to even touch the foul substance without the cook knowing. You feel bad for the cute sorcerer. He always seems so happy and proud of his cooking that no one ever wants to let him down.
“We’ve tried to offer cooking lessons but he doesn’t think he needs them! Please help us!” Luke pleads. You raise your brow at this, looking between the two angels.
“If he turned you down, what makes you think he’ll agree to cook with me?” you ask curiously, not understanding. The two males share a look before looking back at you.
“We just have a hunch,” Simeon supplies with a cool smile. You look over his shoulder to find the white-haired male walking towards your group.
“Hey, guys. Hi, (Y/n),” he greets, coming to stand next to you. “What are we talking about?” Before you or Simeon can smoothly come up with a lie or avoid the question, Luke blurts out the worst thing to possibly say right now.
“We definitely aren’t talking about your cooking or anything like that!” Yeah, Luke isn’t very good at—well, anything when he’s under pressure. You and Simeon both let out a soft sigh, hoping Solomon won’t think too much about it.
To your surprise, he starts to smile brighter than before. Awe, you really do love that smile. “Really? Well, I am a master chef after all. What dish were you talking about? How about the cake I made you last week? That was so good! I should make it again!”
“No!” Luke is quick to say before realizing his mistake. “Not by yourself, at least. I was just telling (Y/n) that I want to try one of their cakes. Why don’t you two make one together?” Wow, that was actually pretty smooth. Well, the first part wasn’t but he made up for it in the end.
“Oh,” Solomon says softly, turning to look at you, “do you want to?” You smile at the offer and nod your head, glad that their plan is going smoothly.
“Yeah, that’ll be fun!” you reply, watching his smile stretch out farther.
“I think so too. How about I walk you to your next class and we can talk about what cake we should make?” he offers, making you nod again. As you two walk off, the two angels share a knowing look with each other before they both head towards their next class.
You two decided to make two different cakes. One cake will be for Luke, Simeon, Barbatos, and Lord Diavolo to share. The other cake will be for the brothers to share. You two headed to the store after school to pick up ingredients, deciding at the store that you’ll make the first four a red velvet cake and the brothers a double-layered cake consisting of chocolate and vanilla.
When you arrive at the House of Lamentation, you get right to work. Almost instantly, you see what the problem is.
Solomon doesn’t read the instructions and just guesses how much and what to put in.
“Solomon, maybe we should look at the directions. We want it to turn out perfect, right?” you offer lightly, hoping he won’t take offense. He pauses from putting paprika into your mixing bowl, turning to look at you.
“Oh, okay,” he agrees after a moment, putting the paprika down onto the counter. You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding and grab the red velvet directions, starting to read the ingredients. Your breath hitches for a second when Solomon comes up behind you to read over your shoulder, his body so close to yours that you can feel his warmth.
“That’s what goes into a cake? Weird,” he comments after you both have finished reading the box. This makes you giggle, your hand coming up to cover your mouth. You turn around and find that he’s still very much so in your space, a pink color starting to dust his cheeks.
You sidestep him to get the milk out of the fridge. “Alright, start by adding the flour, cocoa powder, baking soda, and salt in one bowl and sift it together,” you command, starting to work on your other bowl. He nods his head and does as told, his tongue sticking out a bit as he focuses on his work. You smile warmly at the sight before catching yourself and getting back to work.
You two go through everything step by step, getting the first cake in the oven in no time. “Teamwork makes the dream work,” he says playfully as you slide the cake in. You hum in agreement as you close the oven and set a timer.
“You only bake it for thirty-five to forty minutes? I always thought it would need more time to bake,” he comments as he watches you set the timer. You snort to yourself before starting to work on the next cake. This one took a little more preparation but it was overall pretty much the same process.
While the cakes were baking, you both started to work on the frosting. You two kept getting sidetracked though. It started with someone throwing a little flour at the other. You can’t remember who started it but all you know is that it meant war and you planned on finishing it.
After your flour war, which you won, by the way, you two got back to work and made the frosting. Someone, once again, started a war and it went on for a bit. By the end, you two had frosting all over yourselves and the kitchen. You two also ended up standing very close together. You make eye contact with him, feeling your heart start to race more.
His breath airs across your face from how close you two are, it smelling sweet like the frosting he’s been secretly eating. You’re probably just as sweet smelling as he is. Before you two can stop yourselves, you start leaning in towards each other. Your lips just barely ghost together when the timer goes off.
You two jump away from the other as if you’ve been caught stealing a cookie from the cookie jar. You quickly turn off the timer with a hot face, hurrying to get the first cake from one of the ovens. You set it down to cool before turning to face him once more.
“We need to make another batch of frosting,” you inform, seeing as how most of it is on you two. Your duo gets back to work and finishes with the second batch by the time the other cake is ready. You both take out the two layers before setting them down to cool as well. Once they’ve cooled off enough, you each take a cake to frost.
“They look so good, Solomon!” you say excitedly, looking over the cakes one last time to make sure they’re perfect.
“You look so good,” he responds immediately. You freeze where you stand, trying to let your brain process what he just said. He did say you look good, right?
You look over at him to find him staring at you with a red face. Okay, so, yeah, he said it. “Um, thank you,” you mumble, feeling your face starting to heat up. You watch him take a deep breath and take a step towards you.
He brings his hands to your cheeks as he gives you a kiss, your lips barely touching. He doesn’t kiss you long, almost immediately pulling away. “Sorry, I should have asked first,” he whispers, hands still on your cheeks.
You swallow thickly before speaking, your voice sounding shaky as you say, “I didn’t mind.” He doesn’t hesitate to kiss you again. And again. And then once more just for good measure.
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MASTERLISTS
More with Solomon
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Something that get’s a bit spicy at the end but nothing explicit.
“Come on we’re going to be late.” , Solomon rushed you as you walked down the stairs in heels . “Solomon we have another hour.”, you reminded him as you come to a halt. You watched as his eyes grazed over your curves being hugged by a tight red dress with a slit on one side which Asmodeus happily picked out with you. Solomon’s gaze slowly wandered over your hips and thick thighs down to your feet as he grinned to himself before saying: “You know how I am. I am very impatient when I know I get to see you dressed up.” He softly took your hand and twirled you around before pulling you close and resting one hand on the small part of your back. “You look gorgeous. Maybe we can skip the theater and dinner and get right to the dessert.”, he whispered as a rosy blush began to creep onto your cheeks “Thank you. You look very handsome yourself and maybe we could do just that.”, you whispered back looking up at him as your nose tips touched.
“Where do you think you are going looking like this.”, Satan snapped standing behind you right before you were going to press your lips onto Solomon’s. “Well, if it isn’t Satan himself.” “I am not talking to you Solomon, I’d be thankful if you would shut up. To be honest, if it was for me I’d be perfectly happy if you would just burst into flames right now.”, Satan spat as he slowly made his way down the stairs. “I wouldn’t mind letting you try that out first. I am pretty sure I have a spell that could do exactly that.”,Solomon grinned “Solomon, Satan, come one what the fuck dudes?”, you angrily said before continuing: “Solomon invited me to the theater and later we were going to go out to have dinner.” While speaking you stepped next to Solomon who wrapped one arm around your hips pulling you close to his side to press a kiss onto your cheek. “Are you sure? I don’t think Lucifer would approve of you going out.”, Satan said eyeing Solomon suspiciously. “What wouldn’t I approve of?”, Lucifer’s voice boomed through the hall as he approached you.
“This.”, Satan answered sharply as he pointed at Solomon and you. Lucifer scanned you from top to bottom and turned to Solomon:” He is right, I am not approving this.” “Excuse me? I am more than old enough to go out with whomever I’d like to?”, you spoke up, standing face to face with Lucifer. Grabbing your face with one hand he pulled you closer and stared you down with his crimson red eyes “I honestly do not care what you think. You are not going out with him in that.”, he calmly yet very sternly replied before you turned around and walked towards the door “Well, Lucifer, I honestly do not give one flying fuck what you think. I am going out and I am going to have fun.” You held out your hand towards Solomon who happily took your hand and left the house with you. After quickly closing the door behind you could hear Lucifer’s muffled voice through the door, you couldn’t understand what he was saying but you knew it was going to be ugly when you came back.
It was a sensitive topic for everyone in the house, the brothers were against it from the very beginning and you knew they weren’t going to change their mind anytime soon, if it was for them they would be happier if it had never happened. A heavy sigh escaped your lips: “I’m sorry Solomon.” “There is no need to apologize, I know they don’t trust me. I kind of understand to be frank, but then again I don’t care. Guess I am lucky since they won’t ever seriously hurt me because they don’t want to hurt you.”, Solomon calmly said before flashing you a smile “You are one cocky man, you know that?” “I do but that is why you love me.”, he joked pulling you close “So don’t worry, relax and let us enjoy the evening. If you like you can stay with me tonight.”, he proposed before kissing you softly. “I’d love that.”, you smiled dreading to what you would come home to when you eventually did go back.
“The food was delicious, don’t you think?”, you asked Solomon as you both arrived back at his place “I guess. From what I could taste it was good.”, he replied shrugging as he watched you kick off your heels. “Can’t you get your taste back with one of your mixtures or magic?”, you asked as you turned around and walked over to Solomon who was taking off his blazer. “Sadly, no. I guess that is what you get when you use yourself as a guinea pig.”, he chuckled as you grabbed onto his tie frowning while throwing your purse onto his bed. “Don’t frown like that. It isn’t the end of the world and after all, I know one thing that is always delicious.”, he teased, pulling you closer by the hips making you giggle as he rubbed over your curves.
“Is that so?”, you breathed, cocking an eyebrow before looking into Solomon’s eyes. A cheeky grin spread across his face before he let out a low grumble as he slid his hand up your back. A tingling sensation spread throughout you as you eagerly waited for Solomon’s fingers to explore your body. “I don’t care what the others say.”, he whispered against your neck as he opened the zipper on the back of your dress. A whimper escaped your lips as he ran his cold fingers over the skin on your back, “Promise me you’ll always be mine.”, he continued as he kissed down your jawline. “I don’t ever want to lose you, I love you.”, he whispered one last time as he stared deeply into your eyes, worried about what you’ll answer. “I promise. I love you too.”, you replied before feeling his lips greedily crash against yours.
Softly pushing you down on his bed he crawled between your legs, pressing himself against you as you opened his tie and pulled him closer. His fingers gently sliding up the outside of your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist, a moan escaping your lips as he bit into your shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. You could feel your phone buzzing in your purse behind you, as you reached for your purse you pushed it off the bed, by the time Solomon began to whisper sweet nothings into your ear while he had one hand wrapped firmly around your throat you had forgotten all about it.
