Bucky Barnes X Reader - Drabbles

Enough

Prompt: 34. "I don't tell you I love you enough."

What do you guys think about adding some TJ Hammond here?

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"I love you."

Bucky was laying on the bed, you were using his chest and shoulder as a pillow, your legs intertwined. His metal fingers gingerly traced lines on your naked back as your own fingers draw random patterns on his stomach.

"I don't tell you I love you enough," he whispered.

"You just told me you love me," you chuckled and kissed his neck. Then you turned your head up to see his face, your nose touching his sharp jaw. "Was it because of what we just did?"

He smiled, but his blue eyes still showed conflict.

"I don't tell you how much you're important to me," Bucky confessed, his voice just above a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I don't tell you I love you enough," he sighed and you adjusted your position to see his face better. "You put up with all my bullshit, with my nightmares, with my trust issues, with the therapy sessions, with the Avengers, with this," Bucky glared at his prosthetic arm, "I just wish you could at least feel loved, that's all. I know I don't do that and I am sorry, [Y/n]."

You shifted so you were sitting, your body was completely facing his. Your hands turning his face to yours when he dropped his chin to his chest

"First off," you placed your hands on his cheeks, "You tell me you love every time you get the chance. You say right after waking up – even if you don't remember because of your crankiness in the morning -, during shower, before you go out with Steve to run, during meals, when I do something for you or you do something for me," you said softly. You bit your lower lip for a moment before continuing. "My favorite are the random times. In the middle of a conversation, when you search around for me, during missions, I love it when you suddenly blurt out you love me," you smiled and Bucky could see sparks in your eyes. A tiny smile began to stretch itself on his lips.

"The Avengers are my team too, and even if I only met them because of you, they are great friends. And I'd put up with any friends if you wanted me to," your thumbs caress his stubble. His shoulders visibly relaxed. "All your 'bullshit', Buck, I am here to help you. I love all of you, including the parts you don't like yourself. Until this day, I couldn't find one ounce of bad within you. Ever. But I'm sure that if I did, it'd only add to the list of things I love about you, because it makes you you."

His eyes swam in unshed tears, his hands snaked around your waist, squeezing gently.

"And about that," you ran your hand from his face, down his shoulder and to the metal arm, grazing the scars – the sensitive skin – and settling when your laced your fingers with his metal ones. Your eyes looked deep into his to say, "I find it really hot, Bucky."

He blushed, but chuckled regardless, pulling you toward him by your waist. His lips touched yours in a sweet manner, caring, thankful.

His hot tears fell from his eyes, dropping on his and yours cheeks. You didn't care though; you knew he was crying from emotion, a good emotion. He felt your love toward him, your acceptance to all of him and that was the reason he was crying.

He was overwhelmed in care, and he knew it. That was the most important thing.

You pulled away, your breathing deep and fast, your eyes still closed, your fingers tracing his lower lip.

"Howabout you show me how important I am to you, then?"