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plush-rabbit · 2 years

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Summary: super vague thing about making a decision and solomon trying to help

Word Count: 2.4K

A/N: Going through a lot of anxiety lately and i wanted just a bit of comfort

It’s swelling up inside you- mixing all the contents of your insides, and threatening to spill over as blood rushes through your body. You’re unable to sit properly, shifting every second, your skin feeling too tight, jaw clenched and molars rubbing against each other, heart racing, threatening to beat out of your chest and leave you in a mess of-

“I brought the snacks!” The door swings open, and you turn quickly, watching as Solomon enters with his head down, talking about the different kinds of snacks that he brought from the human world. “I brought all your favorites, and I’ll make sure to leave a spell-” he kicks the door behind him to close, head still down peering into the bag- “that way Beelzebub won’t get into them, okay?” He lifts his head and his smile, the corners of his lips pinched upwards, slowly fall into a frown. “Are you okay?”

You intake a short breath of air, and you think about lying to him. He wouldn’t believe it, but he’s good at knowing when you want to talk about it and when you don’t. But then, you think about lying to him, after he went and got you snacks, snacks that you had wanted and that doesn’t seem fair.

“I’m uh, not,” you say it in a much softer voice than you would have expected, the last word hanging in the air in front of you. “Not okay,” you quickly add, forcing the words to push further into the air.

He reacts quickly, his expression changing as he takes long strides towards you, and he mutters something under his breath, the bag disappearing from his hands and reappearing to be placed on your desk, the contents spilling out above your laptop, and you catch a glimpse of a mascot on the candy, and you’d think that you’d taste the candy on your tongue, but you’re unable to taste anything but the bile and spit that rests heavy on your tongue. There’s a pause as he's unsure whether to sit on your bed, or if he should crouch before you. You can see the hesitation, the small jerky movements of his muscles tensing and how his eyes flutter to you and to the side of the room where a chair is unoccupied. You shift, moving away from the edge of the bed where you've laid yourself , making room for him. He sits beside you, his hands going to where you’ve curled your own into the fabric of the pillow case.

“What happened?” His voice is soft, caring, and he cares so much for you and it’s too much.

There’s no easy way to say it, and maybe there is just no way to say it- all the internal back and forth that you have been doing, choices gnawing at your mind and making you second guess yourself. “I don’t like making decisions,” you mutter. It’s so dumb when said out loud, and you realize that, you realize how dumb you must sound. Tears start to well up in your eyes, and you look down, biting the corners of your lips in a shamed and nervous smile.

“Why not?” A hand leaves yours and you follow it with your eyes, losing it once it goes around you, but his hand is on your back, closed and running up and down. You shrug and fiddle with the loose thread on the edge of the pillowcase. “What makes this decision so difficult for you?”

“I don’t like disappointing people,” you say in a shaky voice. “I wish I were better at not caring.” You wish you could say that you want others to make the hard decisions for you, but even then, that would be far too much, that would make you an ill-mannered person, incapable of doing the most basic things and that type of shame makes you want to cry.

The other hand leaves yours, and the pads of his fingers touch against your jaw, turning your head towards him. “If you ask me, I love how much you care about others.” There’s a melancholic smile that graces his features, that makes him look older and wistful. “You try to do your best to please others, and I think that shows how loving you are. You want to help others, and you always have this smile on your face when you do it, you never give up on others. But-” you look up at him, brows knitted together- “you also sacrifice too much of yourself to please others. It’s like you stretch yourself thin to help others, to make sure that they’re happy before you. You feel like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders and you don’t want any help.”

“I don’t want to annoy people,” you croak. “I talk too much and then we just end up going in circles and it should be an easy decision but it isn’t.” You have to look away from him unless he sees the tears that start to kiss on your cheeks.

“You won’t annoy anyone. Certainly not me.” Once more, Solomon guides you back to look at him and a thumb traces under your eye, swiping at the budding tear. Another tear soon replaces the lost one. “If there’s anyone that you could ever talk to, it would be me.”

There’s a constricting sensation around your throat, and you look down, one of your hands reaching upwards, to keep his hand held against your face.

“Do you want help from me?” He asks, and you bite your tongue. He sighs, and you can see his chest take in the breath and slowly puff it out. “Do you want a hug?”

You can feel in the air how tense it’s gotten, how he’s stepping on eggshells to be around you and to make sure that you’re okay with him being so close- that you’re okay with letting him in. It feels wrong to ruin a moment, but you do so anyways, fearing that letting him see too much would only push him away. “I feel like that’s asking too much. You look up at him, a wobbly smile ticking at the corner of your lips. “Isn’t that against sorcerer and apprentice code?” You’re more than happy to let him see you happy, to see your back and to relish in that type of person, than this scared one.

He grins, and though he doesn’t age, at least not as rapidly as you do, you can see the crow’s feet that deepen with his smile. “It’ll be our secret then, hm?” The bed dips closer to your thighs as he moves closer to you. “Plus, I’d be a horrible person if I let someone as pretty as you cry.” You push yourself forward, and for a brief moment, in his arms and with your face against his chest, hearing and feeling his heart beat and echo against you, you feel at bliss, any worry gone and evaporated into the air and a part of you wonders if he had anything to do with that. “There we go,” he mutters, his arms wrapping around and leaving your face warm with his mark. “Much better, hm?” You feel his lips press against the crown of your head. Tears burn, and you feel like you’re being choked by a phantom of guilt and shame, as he holds you with a tenderness you can’t recall being given to you.

“Much better,” you agree, shifting in his arms, wrapping your own around his torso. You keep yourself pressed close to him and it feels right. There’s no lie in that sentence. You do feel better, you feel more of yourself than you have in a long time, and you know that it’s him causing this- for better or for worse. But you like feeling calm, you like being happy with him. In the time of your apprenticeship, you both have grown closer, you’ve seen just how patient he can be. He’s the best of both of you, and you’ll always stare up at him, wanting his touch, but never feeling as though that would ever be enough, that you’d always want more.

“Whatever it is that's going on-” worry settles in once more, and as if he could tell, he presses another kiss to your once more- “we’ll figure it out. You’re still here, and as long as you and I are together, we’ll figure it out.”

“Promise?” You ask, peeling away from him, tears making your vision blurry and when you blink them away, they leave trails of crystals on your cheeks.

Solomon nods his head. “Promise.” A kiss is pressed to the tip of your nose, and your eyes scrunch at the feeling, your smile coming back. “I’d never break a promise to you, not ever.” He pulls away and moves himself onto the bed, lifting a hand and you watch as the blanket folded on the edge of your bed lifts and curves around you, trying to nudge you close to him. You laugh lightly, getting the message and crawling over to him. “There you are,” he says in a whisper, pulling you close to his chest, his limbs entangling into yours as he hides himself into your neck, his breath warm and lips soft as they kiss against your pulse. “Whatever it is, I’ll take good care of you.”

“Solomon,” you say softly, and his name feels so heavy on your tongue. He hums in response, and his hand grabs yours to hold to his chest. You’re silent for a moment too long and he twitches- his legs straightening and you’ve ruined the comfortable pose he was already in. “Thank you,” you add quickly. “I don’t think I could have ever been this version of me without you.” You’re scared, but you know that he’s here. You know that he’s helping you, letting you take comfort in him and letting you rely on others. He’s allowing you to be soft and clingy like a child, letting you take no shame in it, and only encouraging it. You walk on shaky legs like a fawn, voicing your worries, and you hold onto him in a tight grip. “Without sounding so sappy,” you add, “you really, really-” you emphasize the word- “mean a lot to me.”

“Hate to tell you this, my love-” you look up at him and he’s given you a particularly mischievous grim- “but that sounded really sappy.” You open your mouth, a snide remark already on your tongue, when he continues. “But if it helps, you really mean a lot to me as well. Much more than I could have ever thought.” You press yourself closer to his chest, hands twisting into the fabric of his shirt. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe? I don’t want to bore you-” he clears his throat and you cringe upon yourself. “I already made the decision a bit ago, and it’s been finalized, but I can’t help but worry if it was the right thing to do or to say, and it sucks and-” tears return and there’s a harsh crack in your voice. “What if I regret it?”

Solomon stays quiet for a moment. “I’ve lived for a long time, and there are a lot of things that I regret, both from actions that I’ve done and actions that I chose not to do. But-” you can tell that he’s choosing his words carefully, letting them form on his tongue and roll out- “at the end, they didn’t seem to matter. I’m here with you and whatever decision led me here, was a good one.”

“Despite all the sadness?” You ask in a meek voice.

“I've learned that there are always going to be some type of negative feelings and while I wish that there wouldn’t be any sadness around, that feeling will always linger. You just have to let that feeling roll off of you, if the decision has been made and finalized, that’s it. It’s out of your hands now. There’s no need to worry about it. You can’t let it consume you. I know that you think you’ll regret it, but maybe it was for the best. It’ll work out. Whatever it was for, I doubt this will be the last opportunity that you’ll have. There will always be more things that will come your way.”

The words help, if only for a moment, and you cling closer to him, worry washing off of you for a brief moment and letting your body feel heavy. “And you’ll be there?” You ask in a soft voice, vulnerability etched into your words, that it’d be impossible to untangle the feeling and words. “To hear me out and stuff?”

“I’ll be here till you grow tired of me,” he says earnestly. “For stuff and all.” He presses his lips to the top of your head once more.

It’s silent for a moment, and your hands have loosened from a fist to just curving around his sides. The conversation is done, and you know that if you wanted to open it again, you could, but you want to spend time with him that isn’t so worrisome. “You brought candy?”

“I did!” He sounds so proud of himself, so chipper, that you smile. “From that store in your hometown? The one that you were telling me a while ago?”

Your eyes widen and you lift yourself up, and your face breaks into a smile. It’s wide and stretched, and his smile is so much softer, his eyes looking upwards at you, and hands pulling back towards him to lay flat on his stomach. “Really?” You ask in an incredulous voice. He gives you a sharp nod. “Solomon,” you gasp out, “you’re the best.” You lay back down, peppering his face with short and fleeting kisses and he’s giggling the whole way through, his arms wrapping around you and holding you to him.

“I’m glad that I could be of service,” he says through a fit of laughter. You sit down beside him, your hands tapping on your thighs. “If I had known that that would’ve been the reaction, I would’ve said something much sooner.” You roll your eyes and he starts to pull himself upwards into a sitting position like yours. His hands grab yours, long and thin fingers wrapping around yours. “Whatever you need from me, you only have to ask.” His hand lifts yours to press a kiss to the back of your hand.

#obey me #obey me solomon #obey me swd #obey me solomon x reader #solomon x mc #obey me solomon headcanons #solomon headcanons #i've been falling for solomon and barbs lately #like a whole bunch #um #yeah #one more thing later today #and then yeah #i wanna write for obey me more #but i have like short bursts of ideas that don't fit my writing style #and it makes me go all !!!#ya know

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