Little Wing - Bucky Barnes x OC

My Girl

A/N: I'm back! Thank you for being so understanding and letting me take an extra week to rest my brain and focus on my real life work for a bit. I love you all so SO much.

Anyways, I hope this chapter makes up for the break. There's a big revelation in this one, giving Dove a peek into Bucky's reality. Also... is that... a lil glimmer of smut? YEP. 18+ chapter here bbs

~

Dove kicked open the backdoor and rushed out onto the grass— barefoot as always— holding her things in her arms.

Although her pace faltered when she saw that the table was empty, which was... odd. Never, not once, had she beat Bucky outside. Usually he was seated in his chair, surrounded by his oversized rolls of paper, pencils, and fancy tools. Only glancing up from his ridiculously valued sketches to look at her once she sat down.

She walked back into the house after she set down her things at the table, planning to make the most of the peculiar change in timing. She prepared a snack for them, putting in more effort than usual.

After toasting a couple slices of bread for each of them, she set them down onto a tray she had covered in different jams and some butter. She placed some grapes and apple slices down around the toast and then made two cups of coffee. Working as fast as she could to have everything ready by the time Bucky came downstairs.

She made a few trips in and out of the house until everything was placed onto the outdoor table, then organized everything so it looked nice for them before taking her seat.

Dove probably shouldn't have had so much energy, considering she was up until early in the morning with her friends making the absolute most of the carnival. Their group only left once the lights were shut off and the booming fireworks finally stopped echoing loudly in the sky. Even then, when she got home she tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep.

But she didn't have to wonder why her body was so restless. Not for a second. It was Bucky, plain and simple.

She couldn't stop thinking about their night at the carnival. The way he spoke to her, and looked at her, and took care of her, and joked with her, and touched her, and kissed her. She couldn't stop replaying every last minute like a goddamn movie in her head.

And even as she sat at the table, she caught herself smiling while she spread red raspberry preserves across her toast. She probably looked like a crazy person grinning at a fucking piece of bread, but she wasn't trying to hide her blooming affections anymore. Emotions like that were rare for her. Practically nonexistent. She didn't catch feelings easily, if ever, so she was fucking basking in it.

She blindly munched on the food and sipped at her bitterly strong coffee as she wrote in her journal, putting her thoughts into inked words. She filled the page faster than she realized with how many— albeit a bit scary— exciting emotions she was feeling, then flipping to the next and picking back up.

It had been nearly an hour of writing when Dove started to wonder if Bucky would ever get up. She looked down at the tray she had made up for them, now covered in crumbs and smears of jam. Two pieces of cold toast were sitting patiently beside a few remaining apple slices and grapes she had left for him.

Bucky never slept in. Especially not since they started spending their mornings together. She knew he couldn't have been up that late, since his car was already back by the time she got home.

His car! she thought to herself.

Shooting up from her chair, Dove sprinted around the side yard over to the fence. She pressed her nose to the slats of wood and scrunched one of her eyes shut to peek with the open one between the small gaps of splintered planks, finding that there were no cars out front at all. Not Joseph's or Sarah's or Steve's or even Bucky's.