“Darlin?” Jesse calls from the entryway, kicking off his boots and hanging his hat alongside his ammo belt.
“In the dining room!” You shout back, a loud crash and a swear follow. Jesse’s quick to find you, immediately kneeling so he can help you pick up the supplies littering the beige carpeting. You don’t look up at him when he comes in, which is surprising because you always greet him.
“Baby?” He asks, setting the things he’s collected back on the table. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong Jesse.” Your answer is too brisk to be genuine, too irritated to be directed at him.
“Sugar…”
“Nothing! Nothing is wrong! I’m fine!” You shout at him, slamming your hands on the wooden table as you rise to your feet. “I-”
“Don’t lie to me now, tell me what’s wrong.” After a few moments, you break down sobbing, wrapping your arms around yourself as Jesse crushes you to his chest, one arm rubbing your back while the other runs through your hair. You stay like that for a long while before you speak, letting it all flood out, every pent-up emotion, every suppressed memory, every single thing you’ve bottled up comes flooding forth. And Jesse stayed, telling you it’s going to be okay, that he’s here for you, that he loves you. Jesse stayed and that’s important.
Jesse Mccree x troubled!Reader
Published
demialwrites 