Falling for You: Day 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Fic Summary: When your friend sends you to a remote cabin for a peaceful getaway, you're surprised to find it already occupied by another friend of hers. Was it a scheduling mix-up, or is she playing matchmaker with the autumn air as your backdrop?
Chapter Summary: You arrive at the cabin and meet Bucky Barnes.
Chapter Word Count: Over 3.8k
Chapter Warnings: Fluff, meddling friend (in the best way), instant attraction, opening up, forced proximity, Avengers alternate universe, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Day 1 of Falling for You. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
You smiled as you took in the small cabin in front of you, breathing in the scent of pine needles and damp wood. You arrived a little later than you wanted, but that was okay. After a few grueling months at work, a secluded getaway was exactly what you needed. No emails, no deadlines, no demands. Just you, a few books, and some peace and quiet. All thanks to your friend Natasha.
She knew you felt tired and overworked lately, unable to catch up on rest or enjoy what little downtime you had. Thankfully, things were about to slow down at work since they hired a couple of new people, but you still had time off that you had to use before the end of the year or you’d lose it. She not only urged you to take a much deserved week off, but offered up a fully stocked cabin she shared with her sister and refused to let you pay.
“Enjoy the time off. That’ll be payment enough for me,” she told you.
You found the key under the flower pot just where she said it would be. You happily sighed and picked up your bag as you unlocked the door. You wondered if there was a reading nook or if you could read by the fire. Maybe you'd make some tea and pretend your boyfriend made it for you.
“In my dreams,” you muttered.
You were painfully single and had been for months, which was easy to blame on work. The last date you went on, the guy had eaten half of your plate and told you it was to help you maintain your figure. Suffice to say you didn't call him again. Natasha told you the right guy would come along. She also offered to ruin your date’s reputation for how he acted. You didn't take her up on it, which she seemed both respectful and disappointed.
Pushing that thought aside, you smiled and looked around the place once you were inside. Rustic, cozy, and perfect. It was just what you needed. But what you weren't expecting was a large man to suddenly enter the living room, your bag falling from your hand from the shock.
“Wow,” you whispered.
The buttons of his plaid shirt were hanging on for dear life from stretching across his broad chest. The shade of his eyes rivaled a glacial lake. His perfectly trimmed beard looked good enough to brush your fingers through. So did his shoulder length hair. Veins popped out of his forearms, and what you could see of his left arm was covered in tattoos. He was stunningly gorgeous.
You didn’t know the cabin of your dreams came with a perfect man.
“Hi,” you said, your voice higher than you intended.
You weren't trying to stare. You really weren't. But how was there such a gorgeous specimen standing right in front of you? He wasn't just a man. He was a man. The things you’d let him do to you just from his stare alone.
Wait, what was he doing here?
“Um, hi,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward smile. Even his voice was sexy. You were a goner. “Are you lost?”
“I.. I don't think so. I-I’m staying here for the week," you answered, taking your phone out to double check. “Maple Creek Cabin 7. October 29th through November 4th.”
You knew you got the date right. God, what if you had the wrong cabin? No, that didn't make sense. You found the key right where Natasha said it would be.
The confused look on his face was adorable. “I’m staying here for the week. Maple Creek Cabin 7. October 29th through November 4th,” he gently argued, your stomach sinking when he checked his phone, too. “Booked it through my friend about a month ago.”
“Does that friend happen to be Natasha?” you asked, not saying her full name in case the guy wasn't telling the truth.
He nodded slowly. “Romanoff?”
You nodded in return. No way could he pull that name out of thin air. “That’s her. I booked it through her, too.”
A long silence hung in the air as you stared at each other, broken only by the crackling fire from the fireplace. “She double booked us,” he said with a hint of resignation, tapping his screen a couple of times. “Great.”
You shifted when Natasha’s voice rang out from his phone seconds later. “Barnes, aren't you supposed to be enjoying some peace and quiet?”
Barnes? That name sounded familiar. Natasha had mentioned it in passing. What did she say about him?
“You double booked your cabin,” he said, not accusatory. He almost sounded amused. Almost.
“Hey, Nat,” you called out.
“Oh, hi. Glad you made it safely,” she said warmly. “Did I do that? Well, I have been meaning to introduce you two to each other, but I didn’t mean to double book the place. Must’ve gotten my weeks mixed up.”
You frowned. She was usually so meticulous. She didn't sound at all surprised either that both of you were there at the same time.
“Got your weeks mixed up, huh?” he asked.
“Sure did,” she replied.
“Bullshit,” he mouthed to you, making you smother a giggle. “That doesn't sound like you.”
“These things happen, even to the best of us.”
You narrowed your eyes suspiciously, even though she couldn't see you. “You told me the key was under the flower pot,” you reminded her. Surely he wouldn't have unlocked the door and put the key back.
“I did,” she confirmed.
“And you told me the key was under the small boulder,” he said, shaking his head. “So, you knew we were both coming.”
“Barnes, I told you about the key under the boulder because it’s a bit heavier and you like lifting things,” she said, not confirming nor denying that she knew you’d both be there. “You think I’d purposely give you each a different place to locate a key?”
“Yes,” you said at the same time. Natasha was very good at playing whatever angle she wanted to play.
“Look, since you’re both there, you might as well make the most of it,” she said. You could picture the smirk on her face. “You both need a break. And some peace.”
The man looked at you with an unreadable expression. Was he tired like you? Overworked? Lonely?
“I gotta go. Sorry about the double booking,” your friend said, not sounding at all apologetic. “Enjoy your time.”
She hung up before either of you could say anything else, the silence starting to stretch again. “So, she did this on purpose, right?” you finally half-teased.
He scoffed, his cheek twitching. “Yeah, I think she did.”
But why? You didn't know this guy, and he didn't know you. She must’ve thought you’d get along at least, otherwise she would've urged both of you to go.
“Well, you were here first. I can always come back another time,” you said, giving him a small smile.
It was a shame. You were looking forward to it. You still had a week off. There were other things that could fill the time.
“Wait.” He took a few steps closer. “I’m not making you drive all the way back from... wherever you came from. And I don’t really want to leave either.”
“Are you... suggesting we share the place?” you asked. He didn’t mind?
He shrugged. “Well, she suggested it. I’m just agreeing,” he said, making you smile a little. “The couch is a pull-out, so I can sleep there while you take the bedroom.”
There was only one bed. Wasn’t that how some romance stories began? But your life wasn’t a story, was it?
“I won’t bother you or get in your way,” he added when you hesitated.
“I don’t think you’d be a bother,” you promised. Far from it. The truth was, he was a stranger. A handsome one, but still a stranger.
But Natasha wouldn’t steer you wrong.
That made him smile a little. “But?”
You bit the inside of your cheek. You were the one who didn’t want to be a bother. “I don’t even know your name. I mean, besides Barnes,” you said instead.
His smile widened. “I’m Bucky. Bucky Barnes.”
You smiled back and gave him your name. “Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” He rubbed the back of his neck again, glancing toward the kitchen. “I was… just about to make something to eat. If you’re hungry, you’re welcome to join me.”
You found yourself nodding before you could stop yourself, a giddy feeling spreading from the fact that he wanted to spend time with you. “Sure. Thanks. I’ll just set my bag in the bedroom,” you said, trying to sound casual.
He nodded, his eyes on you as you picked up your bag and carried it to the bedroom. You were proud your legs didn't give out, and your heart thudded a little harder and faster than it should have. “This is fine. Just fine. Just a week in a cabin with the most gorgeous man alive,” you muttered.
How were you going to survive?
You groaned quietly and looked around. The bedroom was just as cozy as the rest of the cabin with warm wood paneling, a thick quilt at the foot of the bed, and a small window that looked out onto the trees. A pang of guilt hit you when you saw a small, dark bag near the dresser. He offered the room up to you so easily, like it was nothing, even though he showed up first. Was it right for you to take it?
You stepped closer to the dresser and opened the top drawer, spotting socks and underwear. He’d already started settling in. Maybe he even imagined a quiet week of solitude here, just like you had. And now you were there disrupting it.
You took a breath and headed toward the kitchen. Bucky was already there, sleeves rolled up, rummaging through the cupboard like he owned the place. He looked perfectly at ease.
“Hey,” you said softly.
“Hey,” he said, glancing at you with a small smile. “Grilled cheese and tomato soup okay?”
“Better than okay,” you replied, stepping closer. It was a nice comfort meal. “Can I help out at all?”
His eyebrows shot up before he nodded to the loaf of bread. From what you saw, Natasha wasn't lying when she said she stocked up the place. “You mind buttering the bread?”
“Not at all.”
The kitchen was cozy, but on the smaller side. At least it felt small as you moved through it. You brushed past him to get the butter and had to brush by again to get a knife. He shifted slightly to give you space, but his presence lingered.
Did he have any idea how handsome he was? How good he smelled? It was insane.
“So,” you said, trying not to stare. “Do you cook often?”
You almost winced. It was a lame question to ask. You were curious, but you also just wanted to hear him talk.
He shrugged, getting a pot and pan out. “Nothing too fancy since I’m usually just cooking for myself,” he answered. You understood that. “I like simple stuff. Quiet meals.”
You nodded, spreading the butter across the bread. “Me, too,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Though I almost burned my dinner the other night because I kept telling myself I was only sending one more work email, which turned into ten more.”
He chuckled gently, the sound warm enough to spread heat from your chest. “A multitasking hazard. I get it.”
Silence followed, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You watched him pour the soup into the pot, his hand steady. He wasn't a chatterbox, but he didn't seem completely closed off either.
“Are you sure you don’t want the bedroom? You were here first,” you said, leaving out that he had already begun to unpack.
He shook his head. “I’m good with the couch. Really.”
You bit your lip and you swore he stared. “Are you sure?”
He smiled softly. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.”
You nodded slowly. “Okay,” you said, your heart fluttering. “Thank you,” you added, wondering if you could somehow make it up to him.
“Nothing to thank me for.” He turned his attention back to the stove. “Plus I didn't mind sleeping near a fire.”
“That does sound nice,” you said.
The two of you didn’t say much after that, quietly cooking the simple meal, the sizzling sound of the butter melting into the bread filling the air. It was strange, but it almost felt natural. Would it be like that all week?
“I don’t think Nat mentioned how you two know each other,” he said, surprising you.
“Oh. I was a waitress at the Red Room, and she worked there, too. Do you know the Red Room?” you asked. He nodded a little. You were glad to be out of there. “She left and started working at SHIELD, but we kept in touch. I work for SHIELD now, too.”
He stared at you for a beat. “You work for SHIELD?”
“Yeah. Behavioral Strategy. Mostly internal dynamics, conflict resolution, team cohesion. That sort of thing.” You frowned when he chuckled. “What?”
“I work for SHIELD, too,” he said, your mouth falling open. “Tactical Development. Mostly field logistics and security protocols.”
“Wait, we both work for SHIELD?” you asked, shaking your head. “Small world.”
It only slightly surprised you that you hadn’t crossed paths yet. It was a large company with multiple divisions, lots of moving pieces. There were times it felt siloed, everyone existing within their teams and nowhere else.
You snapped your fingers when you suddenly remembered exactly what Natasha said. “Barnes! Nat mentioned your name when a group of you had to go overseas.”
“All good things, I hope,” he teased, winking at you.
That little wink would play on repeat in your head later. You just knew it. “She said you’re smart, loyal, and good at protecting people, even when it costs you. And that…”
He raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push.
Your heart thudded. “That you’re tired, but still keep your head up,” you said before adding in a whisper, “That you're a good man, even when you doubt yourself.”
It felt like you said too much. You just met the guy. But you knew some of the work with SHIELD could be extremely dangerous, sometimes haunting. And he didn't look at all uncomfortable or put off by what you said.
“I am a little tired.” His expression shifted, something soft in his eyes. “I feel like my memory isn’t so great some days, but I remember her talking about you, too. Said you were a smart, hard worker with a good heart.”
“She said that?” you asked, your voice small. Natasha didn’t throw out compliments without meaning it.
He nodded. “She also said you were tired, but you still find reasons to smile.”
“Oh.” You busied yourself by getting bowls and plates. “Well, our team has been short-staffed for months, and I’m-”
“Overworked?” he guessed, his fingers brushing yours when he took a plate from your hands to put the sandwich on, a jolt of electricity flowing up your arm.
“Yeah,” you said, wondering if you looked as tired as you felt. “But we have to get the job done. And we have a couple of new teammates, so things should even out.”
Bucky handed you the plate back, his fingers lingering enough to make your breath catch. He didn’t pull away immediately and neither did you. The moment stretched, something warm and electric crackling between you.
“I know what it feels like,” he said, his voice low and quiet. “Being the one people rely on, even when you’re running on fumes.”
You swallowed. “It’s hard to say no when you care,” you said. And you did care. You cared about your team and their well-being.
He tilted his head, studying you. “That’s what Nat said. That you care too much sometimes, but you never let it make you bitter. She really admires you.”
You blinked, the words hitting you harder than expected. “She said that, too?”
“She did,” he whispered.
You didn’t know what to say to that. Some days it did seem like you cared too much. You tried to take care of everyone. But at the end of the day there was no one to take care of you. You had to take care of yourself.
You smiled, soft and a little sad. “She’s really good at reading people, and one of the strongest people I know.”
“You seem strong, too.”
You giggled, unable to stop yourself. You didn’t feel strong most days. “You don’t even know me.”
“Nat vouches for you, which is enough, but I have a good feeling about you,” he said, the corner of his lip twitching as something passed between you. “Here, let me get your bowl for you. It’s hot.”
“Thanks,” you exhaled, taking his plate in return.
You both carried the food to the small table near a large window, the glow from the fire casting flickering shadows along the walls. The trees swayed gently in the breeze outside, and you took a moment to appreciate the view. Your attention turned back to Bucky when he sat across from you, his posture relaxed yet attentive.
“I hope it’s edible,” he joked.
“I’m sure it is,” you smiled, his gaze on you as you took a bite. It had the perfect crunch from the bread, the cheese melted just right. “Mmm. This is really good.”
He relaxed more in his seat. “I’m sure it was your buttering skills that did it.”
Your cheeks got hot as he took a large bite, your gaze fixated on his mouth. You really had to stop staring at him. Creeping him out wasn’t on your list of things to do this week.
“So,” he began, dipping his sandwich in the soup. “Any big plans for the week?”
You shook your head. “Not really. I brought a couple of books, and I thought I’d read by the fire. Maybe take a walk if the weather’s nice enough.”
“That was my plan, too.”
“Really?”
He smiled at your expression. “Really. I don’t always get a lot of quiet, so I figured I’d take advantage of it while I can. I may try to sleep in a little if I can, too. Chop some wood for some exercise besides walking.”
You could think of an exercise or two to help him with. “That sounds really nice.”
He glanced at you, something thoughtful in his eyes. “I probably should’ve asked from the start, but your boyfriend won’t mind you staying with another man, will he?”
You almost dropped your sandwich. “Oh. No. No. I-I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m single.”
“Sorry,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “I just assumed.”
Your head dipped, but you were smiling. “What about you?” you asked, lifting your head to meet his gaze.
He tapped a finger on the table. “I’m, uh, I’m single, too,” he said. It shocked you, but hope flickered within you. “It’s funny, Nat keeps trying to set my friend Steve up on blind dates. She won’t do that with me.”
“Why not?” you asked curiously.
He shrugged and took another bite. “Blind dates just feel a little forced.”
You weren’t about to point out the irony of the forced proximity Natasha set up. “I get that. The last date I went on the guy ate half of my food and said it was to help me maintain my figure.”
A flash of anger flickered across his face. “Bastard,” he growled, clearing his throat. “Sorry. That’s just… No, I’m not sorry for saying that. He sounds like a bastard.”
You smiled. It was sweet that he felt defensive of you. “It’s okay. I didn’t see him again, but Nat did threaten to ruin his reputation.”
He scoffed. “She said something similar when my last date ghosted me.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “Someone ghosted you?” you asked. You couldn’t believe it.
“Heard through the grapevine that I was too quiet. Boring.”
“Can I call her a bastard, too?” you teased, your heart swelling when he chuckled. “Well, you don’t strike me as boring.”
He smirked. “You don’t even know me,” he said, echoing what you said earlier.
“Nat vouches for you, which is enough, but I have a good feeling about you,” you replied, echoing his words again. “And nothing wrong with being quiet. I think the quiet can be comforting.”
He didn’t just look into your eyes. He seemed to look right through you. “I do, too.”
Neither of you rushed through the rest of the meal, enjoying the quiet that both of you sought out. It was as if you had a hundred meals like this together before. You stood up once you were finished to clean the dishes and he helped you without prompt, moving around the small kitchen with you in an easy rhythm.
Eventually you both made your way to the living room once you each had your books, you picking a spot on the couch and him in the oversized chair. Each of you had a blanket, though you noticed he gave you the thicker one to keep you warmer. You glanced at him occasionally, and you felt him look at you in return.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but your eyes began to feel heavy and you yawned. “I think I’m going to call it a night,” you said, stretching as you stood. “Do you need help setting up the couch?”
He looked up from his book, his eyes soft and bright, the fire glowing in them. “I’ll take care of it,” he said, standing up, too.
“Okay,” you said, folding the blanket and setting it on the table. You gazed at him, your smile soft. “Thanks again for dinner. And the room.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” he said, tucking some of his hair back. “Sleep well.”
“You, too,” you whispered.
You looked back for just a second when you walked away, your heart racing when you saw him looking at you, too. A smile touched his lips before you turned away, your heart still racing when you slipped into the bedroom. You settled into your nighttime routine, but your mind was occupied with Bucky.
A man who, like you, worked for SHIELD. One who liked the quiet and books. Single. Tired. A good man from what Natasha said. Wouldn’t set him up on blind dates, but encouraged him to stay there for a week with you. Which was essentially a weeklong blind date.
“What are you up to, Nat?” you asked yourself once you settled into bed.
And what would you and Bucky get up to tomorrow?
So, what do we think so far? How many days in before you two kiss? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
