#beauty and the beast bucky barnes

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Author’s Note: I don’t know how many times I’m going to say this, but I am terribly sorry for being gone for so long. But I am glad to be back, I do hope that you guys enjoy this new chapter. 

Warning: Sexual Harassment, please do not read if it could be too much to handle

Gif Credit: @nocturnal—mistress 

Previous Chapter

Word Count: 2,139


The entirety of the trip was leaving you with your mind reeling and your heart racing. The monster you’ve spent, knowing now it’s actually been almost two months since you’ve stayed with him, had you thinking more ways than one just how mind boggling he made you feel.

Bucky was courteous, kind, and even cracking jokes with you. Never once did he do that while you were imprisoned in the plantation. Sure you were the one cracking the ever terrible jokes, trying to make the best of everything. But you never thought he would make the jokes, nor even smile when you tried to fire back the jokes he made. Though one thing did tug at your mind, one question that shouldn’t even matter.

“How did you even get all of that money?” You looked to him as you stopped near a red light.

“Nothing you need to worry about.” He answered simply while staring ahead out the window. You sighed to yourself, knowing you weren’t going to get any answer from him.

It was quiet for the next few minutes, the coldness of the AC making goosebumps rise on your skin. No music played on the radio, only the soft breathing of both Bucky and yourself filled the car.

From the distance you could see the outline of the mountain. The place that you knew as your prison just awaiting from your ever growing sadness and anger. You knew not to make yourself angry, especially while enclosed in a car with an ex-assassin.

You snuck a look at him, his features strangely calm looking for a man struggling for his past and fighting for his future. Yet you smirked when thinking of a particular joke from within the store.

“So,” you began, Bucky looked at you, “do you think Ann’s got a sister?”


The atmosphere between you and Bucky had changed, the difference wasn’t significantly humongous but it still mattered to you. He wouldn’t glare towards you as often, the stiff posture he held was slightly more relaxed. If you didn’t know any better, it also seemed he started to lose the ever present grimace on his face.

‘Reminder to self, thank George and Ann next time I see them.’

You sighed to yourself, surprisingly somewhat bored with what the day had became. Usually you were content with exploring the halls of the plantation, with an odd shadow shaped like Bucky following you, but today was merely just a day. You couldn’t even entertain yourself with that strange shadow, he was nowhere in sight.

A thought protruded into your head as you wondered up the stairs to go to your room, finally tired of the day growing into night.

‘Where the hell is his room?’

Your eyes ran down the two halls of the plantation, his room had to be somewhere in that hellhole.

‘Was it that locked room?’

To your body’s own accord it moved towards where you knew to be the locked room. As your hand reached for the door, you could feel the determination set and fill your veins. You weregoing to get into that room if it was the last thing you do. With a deep breath, you turned the nob, and with a short gasp you found the door unlocked.

The door creaked loudly as you pushed it open enough for your head to peak through. Bucky was nowhere to be seen within the old room. You knew what you were doing was the exact thing that could get you killed. Yet the curiosity within you made your actions justified for the time being.

Your eyes began to take in everything; from the map hanging on his wall, his clothes piled neatly in the corner. You expected everything to be a wreck, for the bed to be broken, cloths ripped to shreds, for a monsterto have destroyed the room. But no, it was uncommonly neat looking and you couldn’t help but feel ashamed for thinking that it should have been in ruins just because of the things he had done in the past.

Sighing, you furthered yourself into the room, curious as to what else he held within it. As you made your way closer to his bed, what you could make out from the moonlight were journals strewn across the bedding, next to it a black backpack.

Should you have even bothered to open them, no, but did you open them anyway, yes. It was in your nature to wonder and in your blood to read. Surely he wasn’t going to fault you for ‘accidentally’ opening his journals.

You grabbed the first journal on your right, sticky notes sticking out from the pages and dog-ears making some of the pages lump. A slight scowl formed on your lips when seeing the dog-ears.

‘Of course he fucking dog-ears his pages.’

As you opened to the front page, the first thing you see was a handmade table-of-contents.

-Begininning

-Childhood

-Steve?

-War

-Blood

You couldn’t even get through the first page when hearing the door behind you open more.

“What are you doing in here?”

His voice startles you to the point where you jump, dropping his journal in the process. You turn to him and see his eyes widen in realization as to what you were exactly doing.

Bucky rushes to the bed, grabbing his journals hurriedly and placing them within the backpack.

“I-I’m sorry-“

He cuts you off with a roar, “Get out! Get! Out!”

The sheer anger you felt from him terrified you to death. The only thing you could think of was to flee, to get as far away as you could from him. At that moment, you truly do believed he was the monster people made him out to be.

Your mind is reeling in terror, your body pushing itself to find the nearest place of safety. It didn’t even occur to you as you ran past Philippe to take him and go home. You only wanted to be away from him, from the man you believed to be changing.


The moon was the only light you had to help you traverse the wooden land of the Virginian woods. At this point you were only running aimlessly, your body couldn’t stop even if you wanted it to.

Your eyes squinted when seeing faint florescent lights in the distance. Finally you forced your energy drained body to slow down, your lungs screaming for air as your mind screamed for understanding of the situation at hand.

‘I should leave, I should leave and go find dad.’

The lights grew clearer and clearer as you walked towards them. To your relief, a gas station stood lit brightly, a beacon of some sort for your tired self.

You huffed heavily as you neared the curb, you tried your damnedest to not let what had just happened to get to you. Yet once the dam holding back tears broke, you couldn’t stop them, they ran freely as you hiccuped and took in shaky breaths.

‘Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. I can’t do this anymore.’

You’re trying to calm yourself as you hear footsteps near you. Looking up from the ground you see a group of men walking towards you. You could feel your heart race when seeing them come closer.

If it was any other day, you knew what your exact response would be to these men. A simple yet strong, ‘Fuck off and fuck you,’ would’ve sufficed. But once again, fate never wanted to play nicely.

It was nighttime, you were alone, and nowhere near civilization.

The wolf whistles from the men made you close into yourself. Hastily you wiped away the tears to steel yourself into not showing these wolves your sadden eyes.

A ‘Hey, baby,’ a mere ‘Why are you all by yourself?’ and a ‘You look so beautiful tonight, darlin’’ made bile rise in your throat. Now only did you wish you stayed within the ‘safe’ confines of the plantation.

You try to smile at these men, no, wolveswith hungry eyes and unforgiving actions, “I’m just waiting for my friend fellows, I’d like to be alone.”

There’s tsk’ing as you requested them to leave you alone.

“Please, I don’t want any trouble.” You beg slightly, your body was in the stages of fight or flight when hearing them chuckling.

Your stomach is churning, your heart beating painfully in your chest, and your lungs ready to burst at any moment from the looks in these mens’ eyes.

The man closet to you grabs your arm, his hands are rough against your bare skin, the others are laughing as you’re trying pulling away from him.

“Aw, baby don’t be that way.” The man’s voice sent chills down your spine. He tries to pull you closer into his embrace. The familiar stench of alcohol coated his breath as he tried to pull you into him again.

You hit him, yelling, “Let go of me!” You could feel the tears starting again as his tightens his grip on your arm.

He jerks you harshly, “Feisty little bitchyou are, might have to take care of that.” The others continue to laugh along, as if they’re use to seeing this, that it was a regular Friday night for them.

You continue your actions, screaming, pleadingfor help you just knew that wasn’t coming. Your hands clashed with the man’s body, his face, anything you could injure to get away. But the laughter kept coming as you kept fighting.

Out of nowhere you hear a car screeching to a stop, with it a righteous slam of a door.

Your eyes are too clouded with tears to notice who came from the car. But soon enough you realize just who it is once all the men were on the ground. Many of them groveling in pain or unconscious from the administrations from the man standing in front of you, his eyes filled with concern.

It’s Bucky, he’s standing in front of you, slightly out of breath but there nonetheless. He grabs your hand gently, then leads you to the car. With gentle touches he buckles you in and walks to the driver side of the car. You stare numbingly onto the dashboard, clearly trying to process the last couple of hours.

Ever so slowly, your eyes move across the dashboard, finding that the car to look strangely familiar. You look towards where the keys should be, but finding nothing there.

Out of everything that should have been said at that moment, you ask, “Did you hot-wire Philippe?”

You look at Bucky to see him shake his head slightly.

“Yes.”


A late August rain rolled in as you and Bucky comforted yourself inside the confines of the mini library. You watch as Bucky tries to clean up his ever present wound. A soft grumble parts his lips as he tries to wipe away the blood.

Carefully you move towards him, a wet rag in hand, “Here… just let me do this.”

Touching the wound softly you hear him yell out in pain.

“That hurts!”

You counter him, “Maybe if you held still and let me do this it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“Maybe if you didn’t run away, this wouldn’t have happened!” He replies quickly, already annoyed with the argument at hand.

“Well if you didn’t scare me, I wouldn’t have ran away!” You try to clean his wound again until he counters you once more.

“Then you shouldn’t have gone into my room, or looked at my belongings!” He looks at you, relentless in proving that he was right in what he did. Even if he knew what he did was clearly wrong.

You scoff, “Well, you need to learn to control your damn temper!”

Bucky opens his mouth to respond but quickly closes it when found at a loss for words. You roll your eyes, knowing you won and he is giving up with the argument.

“Just please hold still Bucky, it might sting a bit…” You move the rag towards the wound once more, you feel his body jolt slightly from the stinging. Continuing your actions, you move to press the rag on another part of the gash. “I, I am sorry though for looking at your journal…”

You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you, you didn’t dare look up at him, there was just too much more to say to him.

“They, those pigs what we sadly call men…” You could feel your heart beating slightly faster when thinking of them, “I just,” you pause for a second before finally looking up at him, “thank you for saving me, Bucky.”

His face was stoic but his eyes showed every emotion he felt, mainly the mere shock of you thanking him had shown itself.

“Anytime, Y/N.”


Tag List: @to-be-a-sunshine@the-random-stucky-bucky@crying-over-supersoldiers@bucky-flavord-skittles@writingbarnes@thebestofoneshots@tumblinwith-me@sebastians-thighs-of-betrayal@justareader@araerin@liajiah@freewilldean@sweetbucky@bethyl4life123@unepetite-fleur@theunknownphoenixrose@hunting-timetravelling-sociopath@pickylittlebitch@waywardsoulpainter@kayla-the-fabulous-narwhalrus@-i-miss-you–@aproudtargaryen@mytasterpeculiar @grumpybeyonce@izhetbean 

Perm. Tag: @marvel-fanfiction

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Author’s Note: Okay, so at least this isn’t coming out months later… Whoops. But with summer coming up, I’ve been working more, so I haven’t had the time to come on. And if you guys are up for this, please let me know what ya thought, cause it’s still very hard to get this out here when I think no one likes it. BUT I do really hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Also, this tugged at my heart a bit, ow.

Gif Credit: @nocturnal—mistress 

Previous Chapter

Word Count: 2,433


Bucky opens his mouth to respond but quickly closes it when found at a loss for words. You roll your eyes, knowing you won and he is giving up with the argument.

“Just please hold still Bucky, it might sting a bit…” You move the rag towards the wound once more, you feel his body jolt slightly from the stinging. Continuing your actions, you move to press the rag on another part of the gash. “I, I am sorry though for looking at your journal…”

You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you, you didn’t dare look up at him, there was just too much more to say to him.

“They, those pigs what we sadly call men…” You could feel your heart beating slightly faster when thinking of them, “I just,” you pause for a second before finally looking up at him, “thank you for saving me, Bucky.”

His face was stoic but his eyes showed every emotion he felt, mainly the mere shock of you thanking him had shown itself.

“Anytime, Y/N.” 


It’s been weeks now ever since that incident at the gas station, since you last stepped foot in his room, and ever since then, Bucky has become more soft spoken towards you.

You thought he was making progress before the ‘wolves’. Yet now you can clearly see the difference with him. May that he doesn’t smile, the look in his eyes tells you that he is now not as haunted.

‘Although he still looks pretty spooked to me… God progress doesn’t have to be drastic, get it together,Y/N.’

You shake your head to rid yourself any thoughts of him, or the progress he was making. There was a goal you wanted to accomplish that evening before Bucky came back from his walk in the forest. The new hobby of his allowed you time for yourself and frankly you didn’t mind him being gone. You knew you weren’t going to go anywhere, for the safety of yourself andyour father.

It was a risk thinking about your father. How you’ve missed him; the way he’d cook your favorite dinners, how he would sing awfully to your favorite songs, and even when he’d make impromptu trips to anywhere and everywhere. You missed him dearly… but you were learning to enjoy the life you were living with Bucky.

‘If that doesn’t scream Stockholm Syndrome, I don’t know what does.’

A small chuckle leaves your lips, as much as you didn’t want to believe it, you really were starting to enjoy your utterly fucked up situation you were in. Bucky was hilarious when he didn’t even mean to be, sometimes you would forget he is suppose to be an ex-assassin for an evil organization. More so he seemed like the cute old guy who was always marveled at those ‘fancy gadgets’ the younglings played with this day and age.

More chuckles left your lips as you remembered the first time when he encountered one of the infamous gadgets of the new age.


It was beginning to get colder as the days passed by, you remember asking Bucky what day it was, he said something along the lines of late September to early October.

He and yourself traveled to town, set on getting some new clothes for the upcoming seasonal change. Along with the clothes, you convinced Bucky to get some autumnal foods from George and Ann.

“You promised, Bucky.” You walked side by side with him as the two of you made your way to George and Ann’s store.

Bucky scoffed, “I know I promised, it doesn’t mean we have to go there every time we go into town to get supplies.”

A grin made its way onto your face, you knew for a fact he didn’t mind visiting the old couple. He just loved to gripe about it and make it seem that he actually did mind going.

“Come on, I heard from Ann a while ago that she made peach cobbler from the last bit of fresh peaches in the area!” You tried to wiggle your eyebrows at him before he scoffed under his breath, choosing to ignore you.

He takes the lead and walks to the door, putting on the act once more of being the perfect boyfriend.

“Thank you, babe.” You chuckle when seeing his scowl return to his face when hearing you call him that. Before he could retort back with a snide comment, the two of you see the lovely couple emerge from the back room, arms full of boxes yet faces brimmed with smiles. “Good afternoon, George, Ann!”

You see the two peak from behind the boxes, just as you were about to ask them if they needed help, Bucky strolls up to them, taking all the boxes with ease. George looks astonished by Bucky’s mere strength as Ann nodded appreciatively.

A giggle erupts from you as George snaps his fingers in front of Ann’s face, her attention leaving Bucky’s backside to him. You see her smile and pat George’s face affectionately, “You’re the only strong man for me, hon’.”

George grumbles, “Y/N, better get your lover-boy before he steals Ann from me.”

“It’s okay George, I’m sure my lover-boy doesn’t want to take the lovely Ann from you.” You’re laughing as you gather some fresh produce from their front windows. It’s a nice quiet you’ve learned to appreciate as the time went by. Just as you were about to grab another apple, a loud ‘FUCK’ made you drop the green fruit.

Bucky is clutching his chest as he stares down the microwave beside him. His eyes dart from it to you, you’re honestly too shocked to say a word to him. But by the guess of it, he didn’t know what a microwave was.

“Honey?” You question unsurely.

He nods his head, “Yea, just, uh, the beeping startled me.”

Ann laughs, “Boy, it seems as you never encountered a microwave before?” She nudges George’s arm and he joins her in playful laughter. Bucky laughs along with them, you could see the nervousness in his eyes, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

George and Ann could blow his cover, they’d realize who he was.

“Babe.”

The three of them turn their gazes to you, your hand was outstretched to Bucky, inviting and comforting just for him. You didn’t know why you’d want to comfort him, hell you were still afraid of him.

But it was the look in his eyes that made it worth why you try your hardest to take care of him.

His steps are causal yet cautious when joining you, the heat from his flesh hand was radiating in your palm.

You could feel him lean into your ear, a soft whisper of gratitude made your cheeks heat up.

‘I should probably start teaching him the modern technology soon.’


Head fuzzy with the images from that moment in George and Ann’s shop cloud your judgement of the task at hand. It was when you felt the hot sensation scold your hand that made your haze burst.

“Fuck!” Your hand is painfully hot as you drop the ladle into the pot. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” You’re mumbling profanities as you dip your hand in the cold bucket of water on the counter. A soft sigh of relief breezes past your lips until you hear the distinct pounding of footsteps from Bucky.

Cursing under your breath once more, you rush towards the hot plate. Hoping that you could get the dinner ready in time before he could find you.

Rushing carefully around the counter, you pull two of the dust ridden bowls from the cabinets above head. You grimace when seeing just how much dust was leftover on them from decades ago.

The pounding of his boots are getting closer and closer to the kitchen, you try not to worry yourself as you push and pull the bowls out from the water bucket.

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck, why am I even rushing for this man?’

Grabbing the pot’s handles carefully, you begin to pour the homemade soup into the bowl, giving Bucky the most out of the two of you.

You hear the kitchen door swing open just as you finish pouring.

“What are you doing?” His voice is gruff from his afternoon walk, the scent of the forest invaded your nose as he made his way closer to you.

“Pouring dinner, you’re welcome.” With the bowls in hand you turn to him, his body relaxed and face full of scruff, “Come on, it’s homemade.” You lead the way towards the dining room, Bucky walking right behind you.

He coughs, “You didn’t have to cook.”

“I wanted to,” You hum, “not to mention Ann gave me the ingredients for free.”


Bucky wasn’t one to talk during dinner, or for any meal for that matter. Yet you continuously enjoyed his company while you ate, you didn’t have to be alone and neither did he.

He had mumbled a soft ‘goodnight’ as he made his way up to his room. You watched his fatigued figure move up the stairs, your mind and heart already wishing that tonight would be the night that he finally gets rest.

Sighing to yourself you begin to clean up the leftover dishes and leave them to soak within the water bucket in the kitchen.

A shiver makes its way up your back as you make your way upstairs. A sense of dread filling your mind, it was either the darkness consuming your head or the way the moon shone ominously throughout the hallway.

‘It’s okay, it’s going to be a good night.’

You shook your head slightly, trying to get rid of the dark feelings within you. As you try to stall your mind, your eyes cast themselves towards Bucky’s door. It was quiet, he was either just now falling asleep or writing. You could only hope for the latter of things.

A yawn escapes your lips as you crawl your way into the bed, the covers making their way up towards your chin as a form of protection from the cold night.

Your eyes began to droop, your own tiredness catching up once again. It wasn’t long until you were out like a light.


The screams, it was gut-wrenching, soul scarring, heart breaking; you awoke startled to hear his terror filled screams. You looked towards the window to see the moon high in the night sky, Bucky’s nightmare must have just blown into full swing.

You sat there, thinking of all the options you could do, you could stay in your room like you always do and wait out his nightmares, oryou could finally face your own fears and help him.

Your body stilled from your own shaking nerves, you made up your mind, it was now or never to finally help the lost sergeant.

Jumping out of bed, you had the moonlight guide you out and towards his room. The screams were vivid to your heart and soul. You couldn’t help stop the tears forming in your eyes for him.

Quietly you opened his door to find him thrashing in his bed, the blankets strewn onto the floor, and his body drenched in a cold sweat. You swallowed down your nerves and made your way towards him.

Steeling yourself, you sat near his shaking body, your hand hovering over his face.

‘Come on, Y/N, you need to help him.’

“Bucky…” You whispered, your hand caressed his face gently, pushing his damp hair back in the process. He whimpered at the touch, making the tears you thought were gone flow further down your face.

You placed your left hand onto his flesh arm, shaking him gently, “Bucky, please wake up, you’re okay…”

One more gentle caress of his face, “Bucky.”

He jolts forward, causing your body to jump back further onto his bed, your hands raised to show him already that you were no threat.

“Bucky it’s-“

“Get out.” He cuts you off with a stern voice. Bucky’s body is heaving slightly, you could see his eyes are cast down and full of fear.

You shake your head, ready to do whatever needs to be done, “No,” Bucky looks up at you, “I’m not leaving you like this.” Slowly you crawl your way closer to Bucky, you can see his steel blue eyes in the moonlight follow you like a hawk.

“Y/N, I’m telling you, it’s dangerous to be here…” He’s not looking at you anymore, but you see his gaze now cast upon his hands.

“And I’m telling you that I’m not leaving you like this.” You stop where your knees are almost touching, your body language telling him that you’re there to stay.

It’s quiet, you two sit and stare and nothingness until he finally speaks up.

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

You’re taken aback by him, not at all expecting him to apologize for just having a nightmare, “You don’t have to say you’re sorry Bucky, you didn’t do anything wrong…”

He scoffs, “Keep telling yourself that…” Bucky’s quiet again, you see him shake his head to himself, “Do you understand that you could of really gotten yourself hurt by waking me up?”

“And do you understand how many times I wake up and hear you?” You counter back. You can see the guilt all over his face, his shoulders slump in defeat.

“I,” he sighs softly, the look he gives you shatters your heart, “I need help.”

You nod solemnly, “What can I do to help?”

“I want to remember, I can only think of the never ending pain,” he pauses, “I can only remember what the soldier has done.”

You’re silent once more, the thoughts racing through your head are loud and never ending. You can’t fathom the thoughts Bucky must have racing through his. Slowly you place your hand on his knee, a small comfort you can show him without going overboard.

“In the morning, I promise to help you.” He looks exhausted, his body worn out from the terrors of the night, “Try to rest some, Buck.”

You pat his knee and move to get up from his bed, before you leave a question makes its way to the front of your mind, “What was your nightmare about?”

Bucky looks uncertain, as if he doesn’t know if it would be the right thing to tell you. Understanding that it may be too personal to ask, you shake your head, “It’s okay Bucky, you don’t have to-“

“It was about you.”


Tag List: @to-be-a-sunshine@the-random-stucky-bucky@crying-over-supersoldiers@bucky-flavord-skittles@writingbarnes@thebestofoneshots@tumblinwith-me@sebastians-thighs-of-betrayal@justareader@araerin@liajiah@freewilldean@sweetbucky@bethyl4life123@unepetite-fleur@theunknownphoenixrose@hunting-timetravelling-sociopath@pickylittlebitch@waywardsoulpainter@kayla-the-fabulous-narwhalrus@-i-miss-you–@aproudtargaryen@mytasterpeculiar@grumpybeyonce @izhetbean

Perm. Tag: @marvel-fanfiction

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