Michael Clifford Imagines/Preferences

Nightmares Suck

You were laying in bed one night after a really long day, fast asleep. You woke up suddenly when you heard a whimpering noise. You figured it was nothing, so you tried to fall back asleep. Then you heard it again, you sat up thinking it was Michael, but he looked fine. You decided to go to the bathroom while you were up. You disappeared to the restroom for a minute, and could hear Michael start yelling. This wasn't unusual for him, he had nightmare disorder and when he was extremely stressed he would have more vivid nightmares that caused him to yell. You quickly finished up in the bathroom and walked back to the bedroom to see that Michael was not only yelling but he was thrashing around in bed.

"STOP STOP, PLEASE! PLEASE LET ME GO!"

You knew how to wake him up without startling him, so you lightly pressed a pillow to his arm to nudge him and whispered, "Michael sweetie, Mikey, wake up hon."

His eyes immediately opened and he was breathing heavy, "Y/n? Y/n!"

You turned on the lights and sat down next to him, "Shh, it's okay, I'm right here."

He held onto you, "I'm sorry, I just - it was -"

You stroked his hair and smiled, "Hey, it's okay, I know it was scary, you don't have to talk about it, I know you don't like to."

You hummed while he tried to calm down. You knew having a steady beat often helped him, it usually slowed down his breathing. You kissed him on the forehead and he sighed, "I am so sick of this." You giggled, "What? Not a fan of blackberry lip balm?" You knew he had been struggling with his nightmares for a while, and even though you wanted to help him, there wasn't much more you could do than help him to calm down when it happened.

He rolled his eyes, "Y/n I'm serious, I am tired of waking up in tears and fearing for my life while I'm asleep."

You held him a bit tighter, "I know, I'm sorry, I just don't know what to do sweetheart."

"I don't want to go to sleep."

You looked at him, "Michael, you need your sleep, you know it'll only get worse if you don't sleep."

"Yeah that's exactly what I want to hear."

You kissed his cheek, "Sorry, maybe we can try doing what my mom said."

He groaned, "Babe, no offense, but those aren't going to work."

"Let's just try it, yeah?"

"Fine."

For the next half hour you tried every de-stressing technique you could think of. Everything from tea to running. None of them worked. Michael sighed, "I don't want to sleep y/n." You grinned, "come on, I have one last idea." You led him back to bed and told him to get comfortable. He tossed and turned and then looked at you, "what's the point of this?" You put the biggest, warmest, softest blanket you had over him and began to tuck him in tightly.

He started laughing, "are you seriously tucking me in? I'm not a kid!"

You continued to tuck the blanket beneath him, "just trust me."

When you finished, Michael announced, "I'm a Michael-rrito"

"What?"

"You know, like a burrito, only my name is Michael."

You walked over to your laptop and put on some quiet music. Michael was trying not to fall asleep, but after twenty minutes, he was out like a light. You decided it was best to leave the music since it helped him to calm down. When Michael woke up he shimmied out of his blanket and walked over to the living room where you were already having your coffee.

He smiled, "you are absolutely magical."

He plopped down next to you on the sofa and kissed your cheek, "How did you know that would work?"

You shrugged and smiled, "You're not the only one who's ever had a nightmare and needed a little bit of love."