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 :)

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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.

Ugh, I went too far back. Let me skip forward a little... Let's jump ahead like an hour. We've eaten the food, Steve's clearing the table, Wanda's moved upstairs for a shower, and I'm going to the laundry room to grab my load of clean clothes. The sound of dishware clanking comes from the kitchen in the next room over. I'm bent over to throw my jeans into a basket when I see Bucky's shadow fall against the wall.

"You stalking me, Barnes?" I chuckle lightly. I just saw him at the dining room table, and he said he was going to start on cookies, so I'm confused as to why he's followed me into the laundry room.

Bucky smiles but it's not all the way, so I'm immediately intrigued as to what he's got planned to say.

"No, I just—well, I got a question for ya." He crosses his arms at his chest before deciding he doesn't like that pose. He moves his hands to his hips and I laugh lightly.

"Okay. What's up?" I kick the dryer door shut.

"Do you want to stay in my room?"

An eyebrow lifts higher up on one side of my forehead. "Like... permanently?"

Bucky stuffs his hands into his pockets sheepishly. "I was hoping so, yes." He looks down at me through the little wisps of hair that have grown past his denim colored eyes. "If you want to, of course. I know how you are about people knowing your business, so if you wanna keep your space I totally understand. I just thought it might be nice. I really do want to be around you, all the time, and so I was just... I don't know. What do you think?"

Anyway, that's how I ended up on the other side of Bucky's bed tonight.

We thought that as soon as Steve and Wanda got back from Wakanda we'd go our separate ways. But no, we figure as long as they know we're together and we're comfortable with it why not share the place we pass out at night?

Right now I'm in my pajamas on the right side of his bed. My bed? Our bed? I'm in the bed, I'm trying to say, with the blankets pulled over by legs and my diary propped up on my lap. Bucky's on the other side: he wanted to lay on this side so that when he rolls over and throws an arm over me it'll be the metal one keeping me securely against his body and the warm flesh one that moves beneath my head.

Isn't that adorable?!

I don't think we're going to have sex tonight. Thank god, too, because I'm too tired for that.

"You okay?"

I look up past my journal pages. "Mhmm." I can't help but let a smile slide across my face to see dewy skinned Bucky Barnes emerging from the bathroom in a cloud of steam. His body glistens. Every crack and crevice stands out in the low light. There's a soggy towel tied low on his waist and I can see a bit of dark hair peeking past the band.

Okay, maybe I'm rethinking this whole "no-sex" thing I just mentioned before.

If he notices my gawking he says nothing. In fact, all he says is, "I was thinking we could start moving your things over tomorrow if you're not doing anything." He points at an empty wall. "Was thinking I could carry your dresser down and set it there."

"You can do that, or I can think really hard and pull it down with this weird brain of mine." I doodle stars in the corner of the page.

Bucky chuckles. "Right, that might be the easier way to do it."

"I wouldn't complain to seeing you lifting something heavy, though." I look up in just enough time to watch Bucky's towel hit the floor. He's faced the other way and digging through his dark stained dresser to find sleeping shorts. I had hope that he slept stark naked, but he doesn't.

Damn.

After he's dressed he comes around to join me on the bed. He settles down into a comfortable place before grabbing his own diary and a pen from the drawer of his nightstand. He glances over at me, smiling like a dork, and laughs when I stick out my tongue at him.

"Is this gonna be a thing?" He points at the two of us seated here with our diaries, reading lights, and ballpoint pens.

"I think it's freakishly adorable," I reply. "So sure—let's make it a thing."

Bucky leans over to press a kiss to my nose. Then he goes slightly lower to lay his lips gently over mine. "Thank you," he mumbles breathlessly against my lips.

I squint as he pulls away. "For what?"

He pauses thoughtfully. "For everything," he finishes the thought. Then, he picks up his pen and starts writing. I stare at him for a few moments longer before grabbing mine and doing the same.

Friday, June 22nd

Dear diary,

Another day in paradise. Wanda and I...

NO, NO, NO!! Stop reading this now! Unless you want to read more about my stupid, boring week where the only exciting things were spilling a bottle of tequila and getting walked in on by Steve when I was with Bucky (haha, okay that one is pretty good), SKIP THE NEXT EIGHT ENTRIES!!

Go to June 30th. NOW! DO IT NOW, BITCH!

Saturday, June 30th

DEAR FUCKIN' HOT MESS DIARY,

Why have you betrayed me like this?! After all we've been through!? All that is sacred that I have shared with you?! I have spilled many secrets within these leather bound walls, but why, WHY for the love of god, did you have to show Bucky THAT ONE?!!

It's three AM and I'm hiding in the bathroom, because of you—stupid fucking diary.

Let me just tell you why you done fucked up.

I've been living in Bucky's room for well over a week now. Things are great. My clothes and shoes are now permanently in the closet. The sheets are starting to smell less like him and more like a smoothie of the both of our bodies. It's great. Life is splendid.

Until I decided to do something stupid tonight, and my diary decided to be stupid with me.

"What do you usually write in yours?" I ask Bucky cluelessly. We're on the bed, our normal places, with our favorite pens and diaries.

Bucky looks over at me. "Just stuff. Sometimes it's memories, but lately it's been stories." He glances down at his current page. "I worry about forgetting." Before I can comment, he asks me the same question. "What's in yours?"

I shrug stupidly. "Just dumb little stories. I think it helps me to realize that my life is pretty great when I write down the funny and cute stuff that happens."

Bucky smiles gently. "Am I in your stories?"

"No. I leave you out." I roll my eyes. "Of course, dumbass." I laugh when he does before we go back to writing. Then I get an idea (a stupid idea).

"Hey, what if we play a game."

Bucky is already skeptical. "What kind of game?"

I turn to face him on the mattress. He's sort of propped up but I'm full on sitting. "I flip to a random page in yours, and you get to flip to a random page on mine. Then we read the page. Not any more than a page, but just a page."

Bucky thinks this over. He flips back through the last few of his entries. "Okay. I think that'd be fine."

"It'll be fun!" I chuckle. "We've told each other everything already. It's not like there's going to be anything crazy in there."

HA! That jinxed me.

We picked our pages at the same time. I looked over the date of Bucky's diary—a few months ago after one of our first dates.

Oh, we also agreed not to tell each other what we were reading until it was done.

Anyway, I read the page. It was cute—super cute. I wanted to read more, but I stopped myself from breaking the rules that I myself had made for the game. I finish before Bucky and can't help but wonder what entry it is that he's flipped to, because his eyes are wide as saucers and his mouth is slightly agape. Maybe he's just got a stuffy nose and needs to keep his mouth open to breathe, I think to myself naïvely.

Bucky's eyes flick back up to me. "Is this..." he shakes his head and clears his throat. "Did you make anything up in here?"

I laugh. "No, I'm a terrible writer." I pause in my laughter. "Wait... why? What did you find?" I lean over now to peer over the top of the diary and see what it is that he's reading—

"OH MY GOD!" I squeal. I yank the diary out of his limp hands.

The entry Bucky found—of all things in this jammed book—was the retelling of my wild night of hot, kinky sex with Thor.

And that, my back-stabbing friend, is why I'm hiding in the bathroom at three AM.

Bucky's asleep. He's been sleeping since a few minutes after he found my Fifty Shades style description of Thor's massive penis. God, why did I go into so much graphic detail? Did I really have to talk about how many times he made me scream?

We were both embarrassed. Too embarrassed to even say anything about it besides my scream as I saw what it was that he was reading.

Okay, I think I need to go to bed now. I'll deal with the drama that'll come from this tomorrow...

Fuck you, diary.

Sunday, July 1st

Dear diary,

One word can be used to describe my mood right now:

Fuck.

I wake up this morning to an empty bed. This is it: he left me.

Oh wait, he left me a note. It says, "Good morning, sunshine! I went on a run. Be back soon!"

That's it? Okay, I guess we'll just talk about the Thor thing later. I'm sure he's embarrassed beyond words about it, and probably jealous too. Oh god, I hope this doesn't make him feel bad now. Yes, Thor's a God. And yes, the sex was OUT OF THIS WORLD, but that doesn't mean I didn't enjoy my nights with Bucky.

He's probably so jealous. Poor man...

I go to the kitchen and make some porridge. I write a bit in here while I wait for Bucky to show up. Then, a quarter past nine, Bucky jogs in through the back door with an empty water bottle in his hand and a smile on his pretty face.

"Good morning, doll." He walks over to my side after closing the door. He kisses the top of my head and squeezes my thigh. "Sleep good?" He sets his water bottle on the table next to my diary then heads to the fridge for something to eat. My empty bowl is sitting idly in front of me.

"I slept fine..." I'm skeptical of his good mood. "How are you? Are you okay?"

He grins back over his shoulder at me. The sun shines off of his sweet summer sweat that glistens across his broad chest. "I'm great! I was thinking we could drive into the city today and do some sight-seeing. Maybe see the London Eye? We've been here ages and I've never been." He grabs an apple and turns back to face me. "Whatcha say, sugar?"

My eyes are slightly wider than they'd normally be. "That's it? You're not upset about anything?"

Bucky shakes his head—chuckling slightly. "No. Should I be?" He takes a bite of fruit.

"Umm, yes." I cross my arms indignantly. "What about last night? You're not at all perturbed by what you saw?"

"Perturbed? A little," Bucky admits with a small smile. "Upset? No." He swallows a mouthful of apple and studies my features quietly. "You think I'd be mad?"

"Not mad but I don't know," I grunt, "I was prepared for something."

"Prepared for or expecting?" Bucky asks. "Because you look disappointed that I'm not mad, baby." He can't keep himself from grinning. He looks boyish and smug, but also as though he's finding my pouting adorably amusing.

"Well—I—we, you should—you should be jealous or something," I stutter without knowing how to stop myself. "If you cared, you'd be jealous. But you're not bothered. You don't care that I wrote all that about Thor? That he had me tied to the bedposts for two nights..."

"Okay, okay—I might not be upset, but that doesn't mean I want a retelling." Bucky stops me with a raised hand. He lowers it and comes to join me at the table. He pulls out a chair and sits beside me. "Of course I'm not eager to know the details of your love life before me, but I can't be angry about it. Besides, what's there to be jealous of if you're mine?" He thumbs at the corner of my mouth until I smile. "You're my pretty girl now, sunshine. There's not a thing in this world that anyone has now that I've got to be jealous of now."

A smile creeps it's way onto my face. "Well, since you put it that way..." I lean closer to the handsome stud until our lips meet. It lasts only a few moments before he's pulling away.

"Go get ready. I'm gonna take you out on the town and show you off." He nudges me off of my chair with his foot. I'm still in my pjs.

Listen, I'd love to keep going, but I've got a date to get ready for with the world's most amazing man. Until next time, diary.

–Y/N