pov- imagines

NIGHTMARES- B. BARNES

pairings: bucky barnes x reader
warnings: nightmares, guilt, ptsd
about: (PK4) forehead kisses + (PF26) person a wiping person b's tears away +(DF53) "i just need you." + DF10) "breathe." + (PF27) person a comforting person b after a nightmare

bucky rarely has nightmares when you sleep next to him. the sweet warmth that radiates from your body and fingers that stay tangled with his reassure him; you don't let the bloody memories that hide in his mind, waiting to creep up on him when he lets his guard down, crawl up and leave him in shambles. you're a dreamcatcher, with soft words and gentle kisses and kind touches.

today, however, has been one of his bad days. one of the days where he just can't seem to escape the shadow of completely unnecessary regret- although during these days, trying to believe it unnecessary is hopeless. his mind is clouded over with his memories, metal hand too much to look at with the red stains he can't help but see. you do what you can when they come, pressing your hands to his metal one in reassurance that you trust him- that the thought of him hurting you is impossible.

you comfort him to the best of your ability, give him tea and spend your day with him, whispering how much you love him and kissing his face.

when he goes to sleep, though, you can only do so much. today, it's very little, and he finds himself back in the past, powerless to stop any of his actions, unable to pry his eyes open and escape back into reality. he can feel hands on his arms, and he panics when he can't recognize if they lie in his horrible past reality or the one with you. he can feel you looking in his mind, pushing your soft voice through the terror, wake up bucky, you say. he forces his lids to part, surprised to feel the cold burn of tears welling in his eyes and running down his cheeks.

"bucky," you coo, tone relieved when he notices you, taking a second to examine his state and whether touching him is the right choice. it proves to be when he falls into you at your open arms, dropping his head onto the crook of your neck. "oh, bucky," you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut as you squeeze him tighter, allowing his tears to soak through your sleep shirt, "it's okay, breathe, baby,"

"breathe," you repeat, saying soft words into the shell of his ear until his sobs slow.

when they do, you pull away from him slightly, holding his face in your hands in front of you so you can look at him. your thumbs brush his cheeks, erasing salty tears. he begins to talk before you even think of asking, "they were with their little boy. i- i murdered them-" his words trap in his throat, mixing with another round of tears. you shake your head, "no, no, it wasn't you, bucky. that isn't you."

at the tears that don't stop running, you bring him closer, pressing a repeating kiss to his forehead, "what do you need?" you ask, already mentally going through his usual comforts: tea, hot chocolate, singing his favorite song-

"you, i just need you," he begs, pressing his face into your chest. "you have me," you promise, and you always will.