Nightmares (Jackson Whittemore)
Requested by anon: Could you do a Jackson Whittemore imagine where the reader has a nightmare while she’s sleeping in bed with him and he comforts her
A/N: I apologize for the length of this.
Jackson laid next to Y/N, an arm loosely draped over her waist. She had one hand slid under the pillow and the other under her cheek, her knees were pulled to her chest and one leg was around Jackson’s waist. Strands of her hair were covering her cheek, her mouth slightly open with soft breaths coming out.
Jackson smiled to himself, wondering how the hell she put up with him. His hand gradually caressed her cheek, he leaned in slowly and kissed her head.
Her peaceful expression was slowly twisting into what resembled a grimace. His worry rose as he thought that it was him who caused her distress in her sleep.
Y/N’s brows knotted tightly, her eyes wandering left and right under her lids, he saw her fingers strongly grip the pillow.
There was something enormous and dangerous going through her brain in which Jackson couldn’t make out. Slowly, her frame seemed fragile and shaking, low whimpers escaping her lips. At this point, Jackson was clueless as to what he should do.
“Babe,” he gently shook her shoulder, wanting to break her from whatever nightmarish cage her mind had her trapped in.
“Y/N.” He said louder, still shaking her shoulder. Jackson’s heart leaped out of his chest when she firmly gripped his wrist, slowly digging her nails into him with fear.
“Y/N!” That was what it took for her panicked eyes to shoot open, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. “Hey,” he pulled her to his chest, her sobbing muffled by it.
“What’s wrong?” He carefully pushed her head back, staring intently into her eyes. “I-I—” was all she managed to say before exploding into another sobbing fit.
“Shh, hey it’s okay baby, I’m right here,” he whispered sweet nothings into her ear, calming her quivering body. Y/N’s breathing slowed down, her chest going up and down in sync with Jackson’s. “I had a nightmare.” Her whimpering voice and her puffy eyes broke his heart.
“Do you wanna talk about it princess?” He noticed how terrified she was by the way she was clutching onto his shirt so tightly that her knuckles went white.
Fear was not a good look on her; her face was hollow and pale, her eyes still widened from whatever was haunting her.
“I don’t,” she finally said, Jackson nodded his head in sympathy. “Okay baby,” his warm lips came in contact with her cold forehead.
“I’m right here love, you don’t have to be scared, alright?” She nodded at his words. Snuggling closer to his chest, seeking his warmth.
“I love you,” he heard her whisper before soft breaths came out of her lips as she drifted back to sleep. “I love you too.”