Captain America and Bucky Barnes Imagines

117. BUCKY: Dear Diary, F*ck You

A/N: This was a part two request to chapter 81 from RogerCaptain! She writes amazing stories, you guys, so go give her stuff a look! Thanks so much for the inspiration! Hope you like it :)

Words: 2.8K

Wednesday, June 20th

Dear diary,

Oh, what a wild week it's been. Sorry I haven't updated a lot in the last few days. I went from writing in this damn thing every night before bed to... well, I have something else to do before I sleep now *wink wink*. 

If you didn't catch that, I'm talking about Bucky. 

Finally, right? Three months together and we just went all the way a few nights ago. I know, I know—it's pretty crazy to think we waited so long to sleep together, but the three months of taking things "slow" was what we needed. Our lives are never at our own pace, so taking control of how fast we were taking things this way was really... nice.

What was even nicer was getting in on for the first time this week.

It was so romantic, diary. I gotta tell you: Bucky Barnes was WELL worth the wait. It started off as a normal night. Except, Wanda and Steve were both gone. They went to Wakanda for the week. It was just Bucky and me. And while I was excited to have my room to myself with Wanda gone, we couldn't deny the idea of sharing a bed together sounded rather enticing.

We talked about it. I mean, damn, we talked forever about it. Having sex, I mean. Hey—I can be blunt. No one else is ever going to read this but me, so who cares what I say? Anyway: let's get back to the part where I got freaky with Bucky. That man is AMAZING between the sheets. The sheer size of his—

Goddammit. I got interrupted. Steve was calling me. He's back home with Wanda tonight. He needed me to help him with his laundry because he doesn't understand how much soap to put in there.

ANYWAY, back to Bucky and his big, thick, juicy—

FUCKING HELL! WHY IS WANDA SHOUTING MY NAME! Why can't anyone leave me alone long enough to talk about Bucky's naked body with the detail it deserves?! I swear to god if this is about something dumb...

Be right back, diary.

Thursday, June 21st

Dear diary,

I expected to get back to my entry yesterday, but the evening just got weirder after Wanda called me down from our room to ask me to go to the market with her. We got enough food to make dinner and then came back to dance to 80s music and cook. That isn't weird: that's normal for us.

What happened next is... well, just let me tell the story.

"Wanda, Wanda. You didn't set a timer for the pasta," I whine. I try to eyeball the stiffness of the noodles through the foggy boiling water.

"It's on my phone," Wanda hums. She spins in circles in our tiny kitchens to the sound of ABBA singing. Dancing Queen is in her top five favorite songs.

"You never said how the trip was. How's T'Challa?" I ask idly. I chop up some carrots for a green salad. Steve's outside mowing the lawn, so I'm not complaining about him not helping. Bucky said he'd make dessert so he's opted out of dinner prep.

Wanda shrugs. "It was good. Vision's doing well," she says with a thoughtful look in her eyes. She shakes her head quickly before going back to stirring a pot of red sauce.