PTSD (buckyxreader)
It happened again. A friend reached out and showed you that even after a year, he still continues to post about you. Abusive, life ruiner. Still continuing to grow sympathy after throwing you into a wall and crying because he thought you were going to yell at him. A year after he raised a hand to you and you still decided to be the too-good person, the too-kind person, the fixer. After three weeks of the raised fist you finally saw him for who he was and now, now he makes videos calling you crazy.
Knowing each thing that slips from his mouth is a lie does nothing next to the daily routine of reminding yourself you're a good person. He lies, and you have proof but you're still too good of a person to do anything about it. I don't need you to fight for me, I'm exhausted enough already. It makes me feel worse. I just want to forget him. You've sent a pleas with your friends before and do it again, still being the good person. The pain will forever remain regardless if you forget his face, his voice, his ridiculous manipulation. You'll continue to see it everywhere. It disrupts your life, even when surrounded by reminders of being good.
The text came in the morning, an innocent warning from a friend that the boy was once again hanging your character. Ignoring the pain throughout work, the door closing behind you once you entered your apartment was the sound of the walls finally collapsing. Sobs start in your chest and the force is so strong your shaking lip finally breaks and cries out. Giving into the pure emotion, you slide down the wall outside of your bedroom and cry into your hands.
Unsure of how long you've stayed like this, you're startled when a hand is placed on your knee making your head snap. Removing the palms that were just pushing your sore eyes into their sockets out of rage, you blink the tears away to see the gentle sculptured face of your calm.
With every muscle in his face soft and worried, Bucky runs his thumb against your knee as he speaks. "What's wrong, doll?"
Unable to speak without great sobs escaping your chest you just hold a hand up to him to ask for a moment. You try to regain control of the muscles which contort your brow and lips to show the raw emotion and lean your head back in the wall, taking breaths to calm yourself. Eventually the rise and fall of your chest become a bit more sedated and the tears fall softer, without the force of your eyelids.
Taking a shaky deep breath you start a weak and hesitant reply, "He posted more things." You take a breath in and close your eyes to continue the truth,"about me, how 'awful' I was and I just-" unable to keep your voice fluent without the accent of sobs, you stop again and breathe deeply.
"I know none of what he says is true. The people who are important know it isn't true. I know that, I know it's valid for me to be so upset I just.." swallowing hard you finally open your eyes to meet Bucky again, "Maybe he is right. I'm horrible, or I was to him. Manipulative and crazy. Maybe I was and I've just convinced everyone else that I'm a good person because just like him I've created my own narrative and I-" breaking your own ramble off in sobs, your face falls back into your hands as the volume of your breakdown rises.
Not once bringing his own thoughts until asked, Bucky falls from his knees to his butt to join you fully on the floor. With your elbows propped up on your knees, you sit for minutes longer and cry, releasing the tension from your chest. Finally feeling the need to stop you wipe your eyes on the sleeves of your shirt and take shaky breaths in and out. Honing in to the touch on your knees, you let the soft circles from his thumbs center you.
Tears remaining but sobs stopping you finally gain the energy to look back at Bucky. "I'm sorry for breaking. I know you're busy and you don't feel well. This is just a lot. It usually isn't but today, gods it feels like I've been shoved off the edge right where I started." Leaning your head against your right arm propped on your leg, you take one final deep and shaky breath while your puffy eyes trace over the carpet beneath you.
After a moment of silence to make sure it was appropriate, Bucky finally shares his thoughts. "You are very much allowed to break, even on my worst days. There won't be a moment that I couldn't spare for you, breaking or not." He continues the soothing patterns on the skin of your joints, "You're not where you started, maybe two steps back but you've come thousands from the start. A trip feels like a launch if you've not experienced one."
Bucky moves his left hand from your knee to the arm that's holding your head up in your right. With light touches he begins the soothing pattern on your forearm and you bring your eyes back to him once again. With no words to offer, you feel the fire in your chest start again and tears swell in your eyes. "Honey, come here." Bucky reaches for you and pulls your raised legs over his crossed one's and sets you in his lap.
Having no control over the water now pouring from your eyes, you lean into him and squeeze his frame from underneath his arms. He picks up his drawings on your bag and comforts you while you release the pain into his shoulder. "Get it out, sweetie, release your pain." With his instruction you sob harder than you thought you needed. Feeling completely safe and comforted allows your body to give in. Finally running out of tears and emotion, you pull the top half of your body away to look at Bucky.
"What can I do to help?" he keeps his hands on your back for support and you give him a miniscule shrug while you sniffle. "Would you like some tea? Hot coco?" Offering warmth, he starts to lighten his expression.
Shaking your head at the thought of ingesting anything, you reach for his hand and pull it to your right cheek. Closing your eyes you lean into it and give a heavy sigh of relief. Bucky dances back and forth with his thumb against the damp apple of your face.
"I'm going to stand up now." Starting to move away from the warning in his words, you're startled by both of his hands being pushed under you. He cradles your thighs as he stands to stretch his legs and walks you into your room, setting you at the end of your bed.
Sensing how tired you've become, you yawn once he takes a step back from where you sit on the mattress. Not wanting to be left alone, which is usually the case when you're upset, you reach for his hand and pull him back to you. From the height of the bed, you wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze him again but without tears.
He runs his hand down the top of your head and extends it over your hair. "I think a nap may cure your yawning." You give a small smile against his torso as you turn your neck to look up at him and nod. Releasing him from your arms, you turn and crawl towards the pillows and shove your feet under the blanket as Bucky joins to your right.
He lays on his side and faces you as he tucks a pillow between his arm and head, extending his free arm to pull you towards him. Settling his arm below your rib cage amongst the soft, warm flesh of your torso and smiles and lightly scratches your back.
Giving a happy sigh, you pull your hands up under your cheek and use them as extra support on top of the shallow pillow. Listening to the breath escaping Bucky's nose and the relaxing choreography of his fingers on your skin, you wrap a leg around him and pull him closer. Feeling fully protected and warm, sleep enters your eyelids and stays for the night.