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chalametsimp · 2 years

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Heaven and Hell 18+

Pairings: Timothee Chalamet x Reader

Summary: Timothée has a Zoom meeting with the producers of his newest movie and you decide to be quite the distraction.

Warnings: smut, sloppy bj 😌, hair pulling, face f*cking, daddy kink?

Word Count: 2.1k

Authors Note: sorry this took me so long my mind is killing me rn. brain word salad. If any of this doesn’t make sense pls lmk lol. This is super hot I’m dying I hope u guys enjoy this. Ily. This will have a part two in the future. Also title inspired by Black Sabbath

masterlist

Visions of Timothée on top of you, thrusting and panting flashed through your head. Only a tantalizing dream, you were sleeping peacefully in bed. When you woke up, alarm blaring. You reached over and slammed on the sleep button to stop the incessant noise. Timothée wasn’t in bed with you. However, you knew this would be the case. He had mentioned a meeting with his agent and producers yesterday but in your sleepy haze, you forgot, frown spreading onto your face. Until you heard his voice, coming from the kitchen. Where he sat in front of his laptop at the table. Hearing him made you nearly spring from the bed. You didn’t bother to change out of the large t-shirt that belonged to Timothée before you made your way to the kitchen to start the coffee pot that you had prepared the night before. He barely noticed you because he was in the middle of an important conversation, eyes glued to the laptop in front of him. You watched as he spoke, charming smile on his lips. The sight of him made you ache once again and so you stood there, staring at him, eyes darting back and forth between the back of the laptop and his face. Your fingers tapped on the countertop while you waited for the pot to fill, causing him to glance up for a second. You could see his eyes light up before he made himself look back at the screen. On the bridge of his nose sat a pair of blue light filter glasses you had bought for him, afraid that the long meetings would hurt his beautiful eyes. They looked so good on him, it wasn’t helping the dirty thoughts that sparked through your synapses. When the producers started talking again, Timothée pressed mute and was immediately looking up at you, his genuine smile coming out to play when his eyes narrowed their gaze to you. “Morning, love.” He chirped before turning his attention back to the screen, listening to what they were telling him. You sighed quietly, wishing that his eyes were on you instead.

“Morning, honey.” You grinned, sleepiness just now starting to wipe away. The sleepiness suddenly replaced with a terrible, lovely idea. “How’s your meeting? Boring?” Do you need me to help make it a little more interesting? A thought not spoken.

“Yeah, super boring.” He hummed, thankfully still on mute “Do you want to go to breakfast after this?” The sun shining on him through the window made him look like an actual angel.

“Yeah,” you trailed off, mind wandering to other places “Sounds great, Timo.” And with that he was averting his attention back to the screen once again and took himself off of mute to speak to them. Your eyes stayed on him, thoughts growing more inappropriate by the second. You poured two mugs off coffee and made your way to the table where he was sat.

You placed both of the mugs on the table before you slowly sank to your knees and crawled closer to him, under the table, placing a kiss on the inside of his knee. His body jerked slightly “Uh-“ click. Mute. “Babe, what are you doing?” His voice was thick with confusion, but he didn’t seem upset about it.

“Nothing,” another kiss to his milky warm skin, higher this time, thankful for the boxers that he wore this morning instead of sweatpants “I’m not doing anything.”

You swore you could feel his eyes roll, until you started kissing farther up his thigh, kissing just underneath the fabric.

“Nothing, really?” Timothée’s voice was playful, not angry “Then what are you doing down there?” The producers were still talking, but you were sure he wasn’t paying all of his attention to them now. You stayed quiet for a moment, continuing to press kisses to his skin, a hand trailing up his thigh to press against his clothed cock, palming him gently. The other hand sweeping across his soft skin, relishing in the way his skin rose with goosebumps at your touch. “You’re definitely up to something.”

“No, I’m not.” You giggled “I’m not doing anything. Pay attention to your meeting, sounds important.” You tsked and listened as he turned mute off and started talking to them again, you kept up with the absentminded caress that he seemed to enjoy so much. You leaned forward and pressed kisses where your other hand had been, cotton rubbing against your lips, staying as quiet as possible. His hips jerked up slightly and his hand went to attempt to push you away. But it was in vain, you kept up your actions, fingers trailing farther up now to play with the band of his boxers. His hips squirmed a little and you suddenly pulled them down his thighs and to his ankles. He was already almost completely hard because of your prior teasing, so you leaned forward to press a kiss to his cock. The sentence he was speaking was suddenly cut short by the feeling of your mouth wrapping around the head of his cock, tongue swishing back and forth against him, an almost silent “uhh..” bubbling from his lips.

“Are you okay there, Timothée?” One of the men asked him. You didn’t hear his response, but he nodded his head. The producers started telling him about something else pertaining to the upcoming film. You pulled away and he choked back a whine, eyes moving down to see what you were up to. The perfect timing to witness a trail of spit leaving your lips, pooling in your palm before you grabbed ahold of his cock with the slick hand and slid your hand down and back up, wrapped around his erection. You knew in your heart he couldn’t handle it if you came in hot, even if you so badly wanted to feel him prodding your esophagus. His eyes widened and he forced himself to look back at the screen, not wanting to give anything away. Timothée grabbed the coffee mug and brought it to his lips, nearly choking as you licked a wet stripe up his cock. You lapped at his head, grip tightening around him.

“You okay, Timothée?” One of the other men questioned, voice soaked with concern. He nodded quickly and set the mug down with a large thunk following behind.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He lied through his teeth “I didn’t let it cool down, it’s a bit hot, that’s all.” You grinned, loving just how much this was affecting him. You almost felt bad, you didn’t want to embarrass him but you still decided this was too fun to stop or slow down. Your cheeks hollowed out and you enveloped more of him into your mouth, not all the way. You had to pace yourself so you didn’t become the gagging mess you wanted so desperately to be. Timothée snaked a hand into your hair, fingers spreading across your scalp. He pushed on your head gently, but his eyes were glued to the screen. You wished you could see his face. The frustration just barely noticeable, thoughtless gaze. Maybe his mouth was open just open a bit, afraid to give himself away but slowly going crazy.

You leaned closer, swallowing his cock further, nearly getting it just where you wanted it. You heard him groan quietly, it went unnoticed to everyone but you. It urged you on, you suckled around him, cheeks constricting around his cock. His hips jutted, pushing his cock further into your warm mouth, finally reaching your throat.

He clicked the mousepad, muting his microphone. “Baby, you’re killing me..” his voice was low and trailing, tugging gently at a piece of your hair. “What’s gotten into you this morning?”

You didn’t reply, not wanting to waste any time and you pushed yourself further, nose brushing against his tummy. The gag that bubbled from your throat was muffled almost completely. You pulled back and then back forward, over and over. Timothée was in heaven, it was so hard for him not to show it. He so badly wanted to slam the laptop closed, push his seat back so he could stand up and fuck your face. He figured that would be rude so instead he stayed where he was, finally unmuting himself to reply to a question that was asked, pulling his attention from you. His hips yearned to thrust upwards, to move, to do anything. He couldn’t, he was stuck in this conversation that he didn’t want to be in. His voice was shaky as he answered the question.

The other men were concerned again, speaking up “Timothée, are you sure you’re doing alright?” His grip on your hair tightened and his hips jerked, just once.

He lied again “I’m doing alright, really. Thank you.” So polite even when he was unbelievably distracted.

His gaze was distant as he looked at the screen, trying to listen to what they were saying. You continued your work, sliding him inside of your mouth and back out over and over, your hand replacing your mouth when it wasn’t there to do the job. Timothée groaned. And this time, everyone heard it.

“It seems you’re struggling with something, Timothée, we’llgive you a call tomorrow.” They didn’t sound mad, just concerned for him. He definitely was a great actor.

“Alright, talk to you guys tomorrow.” Barely finishing the sentencing, he slammed the laptop closed before he was scooting his chair back and spreading his legs a little bit, relaxing now into your touch. His hips thrusted up into your mouth, his head thrown back in pleasure. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…” falling from his pink, wet, parted lips. He was free to make as much noise as he wanted to now. So he did, groaning and whimpering, eyes squeezed shut.

“So fucking good, baby.” He purred, finally looking down at your focused form, a hand trailing from your hair to your cheek. “Can daddy fuck your face, please? Your mouth feels so good.” Timothée’s voice was needy. You didn’t need to reply, you just tugged at his shirt for him to stand up as you readjusted your posture. He was more than happy to allow himself to be pulled to his feet. He was immediately thrusting into your mouth, gently at first. You moaned around him, sending vibrations through his spine. This was one of your favorite things too, but you wouldn’t admit that to him. Wouldn’t admit that you loved the feeling of his cock slamming down your throat. And the sounds, you loved the sounds that he produced with his cock. A maestro to an obscene orchestra. You gagged and choked around him, mouth filling with saliva

He continued, thrusts becoming harder now, a moaning mess. Your name tumbled from him over and over helplessly. When his hips started to slow, you knew he was getting close. You pulled away from his cock to suck the tip gingerly, your tongue swirling around him. You swallowed most of the excess saliva that ruminated in your mouth. You left some, just enough to let fall from your parted lips and cascade onto his glistening cock. You watched his reaction, fake innocent smile on your lips. He wasn’t sure he could take it. You spread the spit around his cock before you were back around him, enveloping him completely as you deep-throated him, his hands finding their way back onto your head, beckoning you impossibly closer.

Timothée couldn’t manage the words to let you know he was cumming, he just couldn’t help himself. His hips started to sputter and his hips stilled. He came down your throat, spilling warm, thick trails. You swallowed around him, tongue rubbing deliciously against his sensitive cock. He groaned loudly and stabled himself, hand resting on the table to do so. He pulled his hips back, out of your mouth and you leaned forward to lick the head to clean him off before you helped him pull his boxers back on.

“Thank you, baby.” He purred, his hand grazing your cheek before he was helping you onto feet.

“Anytime, my love.” You beamed, wrapping your arms around him. Timothée embraced you back, large hands running up and down your back.

“Now, how about we go get you some real breakfast.” He quipped, eliciting a giggle from you. The sound made him grin wide.

“Agreed, I need a shower first. You want to save some water and come with me?” The comment solidified to him that yeah, you’re definitely the one.

“I’d love to. As much as I want to fuck you in that shirt, I wouldn’t mind taking it off.”

#timothee chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee chalamet smut #timothee chalamet one shot #timothèe chalamet smut #timothée chalamet imagine

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writingbarnes · 6 years

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The Cursed Heir [ Bucky Barnes x Reader ] • 4 of 5

Summary : “This is just a dream.” [Y/N] muttered to herself, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Is it?”

Fairy Tale/Prince Bucky AU

THE CURSED HEIR FIC | AO3

Character : Bucky Barnes X OC ( Reader ) | Genre : Fluff, light angst | Words : 3.2K-ish

Author’s Note : This is where the angst comes in yay. I love that i get to write about bucky with his beautiful hair. BUT BOI I can’t find a gif that doesn’t have a metal arm in it so pls ignore that high-tech background in the gif Oh well. My head is spinning rn & i don’t think it’s normal 🙃 I should probably sleep lol anyway, I hope you like it. Tell me what you think! As always, thank you victoria for helping me with this fic <3

Bucky loved to watch her draw. Steve was always quiet when he drew, the world seemed to melt away the moment he picked up his pencils. Sometimes he would look up and shake his head to lose the crick in his neck but he would be back in his own world in no time, filling the pages with drawings so beautiful it made his heart hurt. But she was different. She was a chaotic mess, fiddling with different pencils, hands dirtied by the charcoal as she smudged out something on the paper. Her animated eyes darted between every object around her every so often, lips curling into a satisfied smile when she finished a drawing. And she talked to him a lot. She would clutch the end of the book with her left hand and draw with her right, eyes focused on the paper, and still she would look up every once in a while and pause just to animate her stories with hand gestures.

“It would be exactly 100 years since the witch put the curse next week.” Bucky offhandedly mentioned as he sipped on his wine. His left arm ached again. It had worsened the past week, he noticed, and so had the nightmares. He pushed back the irrational fear to back of his mind and focused his attention on [Y/N] who was seated on the other side of the blanket.

Unlike Steve, who let Bucky go through his drawing book, [Y/N] never let him take a little peek. The only drawing he had seen was the flowers she drew him as an apology weeks ago (it was framed and found a permanent spot on the table next to his bed).

“What are you drawing?” Bucky asked, frowning when she leaned the book away from his sight.

“Flowers. The lake.” She quipped.

“You can’t be drawing the lake the whole time.” He didn’t care that he sounded like a whiny toddler asking for an extra serving of his favorite jelly. He scooted closer, ignoring the fluttery feeling in his stomach, and nudged her shoulder with his finger.

“Are you a child?” [Y/N] sighed. “I told you it’s a secret.”

“But I want to see it.” Bucky was sporting the puppy-eyed look Steve always flashed whenever she tried to say no to whatever scheme he was planning. “I’ll give you the last piece of bread?” He asked, still trying to get his hands on the stupid sketchbook. So she did the first thing that come to her mind. She threw it a few feet away from them, away from Bucky who pouted in disappointment.

“Can’t I see just one drawing?”

“I’ll let you see the ones in my old notebook.” [Y/N] finally said, patting his thigh before standing up to grab the sketchbook she had thrown to the grass in panic.

Maybe she stood up too quickly, or maybe she was just that bad with her balance and coordination, because the next thing she knew, she was falling face first into the ground and would have smack her face against the boulder and ruined the makeup and hair that she definitely didn’t do to impress Bucky if he didn’t pull her back. Both of them ended up toppling on the blanket, the wine sloshed to the blanket.

When she opened her eyes again, she was laying on top of him and he was staring at her with an unreadable expression. His eyes were soft and fond as always but there was something else, something she couldn’t quite decipher and he had his hand gently brushing away the hair that went to her face. She thought she could kiss him right now, when he had his lips quirked into a small tender smile that had secretly wormed its way into her heart.

“You’re the worst.” Bucky huffed a fond laugh, his other hand still planted on her back. She grinned at him and Bucky’s laughter died on his throat. The sunlight served as a perfect backlight for her, making her look more incandescent than she already was. If he just leaned in a little bit closer, he thought as he gazed down to her lips. He could just kiss her and maybe tell her about his feelings. Right when he was about to lean in, his eyes caught the spilled wine, the red reminding him of the blood that stained the royal chapel and the color of her dress.

“Look at what you have done, love.” Her honeyed voice felt like sharp knives against his heart. His head was hurting. She placed her hand on his cheek and went on her tiptoes to kiss the corner of his lips. “This was all you.” Her red lips stretched into a wicked smile.

“No.” Bucky shook his head, his breathing ragged. He smelled blood and death. He blinked a few times, praying for his sight to be wrong. “No.”

“BUCKY. THIS ISN’T YOU!” Steve shouted.

“Why don’t you end them too?” She purred, her sharp nails made crescent marks on his neck. “Maybe I will let you live for another week, love. Then, I will take over this kingdom. All thanks to your love and dedication-“

“Bucky?”

“NO!” Bucky wrenched himself away from her, profusely blinking away the tears. He retched at the memories. It took him a few deep breaths and a soft voice calling his name to take him back.

“Bucky?” He looked to his side and his heart dropped at the sight. He must’ve pushed her too hard. There was trail of blood seeping through the sleeve of her dress from when she hit the boulder behind her. She looked shaken, hands trembling as she tried to approach him.

“No.” Bucky shook his head. “Don’t.” He stopped her before she could touch his left arm. It felt like it was burning. He swallowed back the tears and stammered, “I’m sorry,” before he staggered to his feet and ran off.

Clint Barton found [Y/N] that night crying by the lake. He would’ve thought it was a ghost if he had drank an extra glass of the liquor King T’challa sent them yesterday. He cleared his throat to let her know of his presence and slowly approached her. Whatever questions he had in his mind vaporized when he saw dried blood on her arms.

“What happened?” He asked her. He knew what had happened. Bucky was running down the hall, knocking everything in his way and locked himself inside his room. Steve told them it was another flashback and he accidentally pushed her. She was probably terrified of him, Steve relayed Bucky’s words with a frustrated look. But the look [Y/N] gave him made him think twice about why she was crying.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged.

“Do you want to talk?” Clint sat next to her, pushing away the glasses and empty basket. She had her knees tucked into her chest, face buried in her arms and Clint wondered if she would ever talk to him.

“My heart hurts.” She mumbled. She raised her head and turned to him with a broken smile. “He left.”

“He did. He was scared.”

“Of what?”

“Himself.” Clint answered a beat later. He turned to her. “There were things that happened to him, that were done to him that day. It was…It didn’t just go away, even after decades or a hundred years. I can’t tell you what, because this is not my story to tell. But I know he cares about you more than you think. And he’s scared.”

“I’m tired.” [Y/N] quietly said. “I’m going to go back to the castle.”

Clint nodded quietly as he watched her picked up her book and pencils. He waited for her to compose herself, offering a piece of handkerchief to wipe her face.

“Thank you.” She smiled. It was hollow and insincere. But Clint didn’t say anything. He just let her lead the way back to the castle and bid her a soft good night when they reached her room.

It was funny how things could go from great to not-so-great, awfully disastrous in a matter of seconds. She replayed the moment she ruined it over and over again as she closed the door and she climbed into her bed. She shouldn’t have called his name, or tried to touch his arm, she chastised herself. Tears welled up in her eyes again.

“Thank you for staying here.” She mumbled to the cat who had joined her in her bed. Butterscotch stared at her for a long moment before she walked over towards her and nudged her wet cheek with her head.

[Y/N] scratched Butterscotch’s head, her cries quieted down to an occasional sniffling while the cat lay down on her lap, letting her pet her until she fell asleep.

[Y/N] was not a stranger of nightmares. She had her fair share of nightmares when her parents passed away and even during the first few days in the castle, fear overriding her brain. It was usually just her, trying to run from a shadowed figure and she would wake up hours later with her heart racing like she just ran a marathon, the details of the dream soon washed away by the cool water.

It was different this time. She found herself kneeling on the marbled floor of her room and she could sense a presence behind her.

“Hello there.”

She felt the burning pain even before it stepped into her view and touched the sharp end of her staff to her heart. It burned through her skin and straight into her heart. She fleetingly noticed it had glowed bright blue and wondered if this was how she was going to die. All cries for help stuck in her throat, her eyes filled with unshed tears as she looked up at her.

Oh, she was beautiful. That was the first thing that came to her mind when she saw her face. No wonder Bucky fell in love with her. She’d fall in love with her if she didn’t see her in this state. Her long wavy hair flowed down to her waist. She had blood red lipstick on her lips, her eyebrows arched as though she could read her mind.

“Trying to steal what’s mine?” Her voice was shrill and high-pitched enough to hurt her ears. Her long nails were like talons when it grabbed her chin harshly, forcing her to look at her. “I have been giving him warnings. But he keeps ignoring it. Boys, right?” She giggled, “I suppose I have to kill you first. Maybe he’ll realize he could never stop obeying my command.”

“Fuck off.” [Y/N] said between gasps.

“Oh, I like you a lot!” The woman laughed again, pressing her staff a little deeper into her chest. “The heart of his true love. I could be sated for another century if I could just get your heart. Maybe his too, because I will make sure he knows who he belongs to.”

“He’s not that stupid.” [Y/N] grumbled blocking the fall with her arms when the woman pushed her away.

She only looked at her with a look that sent shivers down her spine. Her eyes gleamed wickedly under the moonlight. “We’ll see.” She said, snapping her fingers. [Y/N] heard a loud screaming noise a moment later, hands clenched to a tight fist once she recognized the owner of said voice.

“This is just a dream.” [Y/N] muttered to herself, squeezing her eyes shut.

“Is it?”

The next time she opened her eyes, she was back in her bed, sweating and panting for breath, with tendrils of hair stuck on her face. There was a lingering pain in her chest and she thought she saw a bruise if she looked down her nightgown. Water. She needed a cool glass of water, she decided, trying to climb out of the bed without falling on her ass. Her hand froze right before she could grab the water jug on the table, ears perking up at the familiar screaming sound.

She thought she was still dreaming, head still spinning even as she dragged her fatigued self out of the room, hands pressed against the wall for support. His room was at the end of the hall, with Steve’s behind the door next to hers. She tried to call his name, voice only reaching a raspy whisper when she opened her mouth. The next scream made her quicken her step towards Bucky’s room.

The door was slightly open and whatever questions she had planned to ask died in her throat the moment she saw him. He was lying on the chair, chest glowing bright red as the woman put her talons on it. She turned to [Y/N] for a moment, smile so wide and wicked it made her stumble on her feet.

“No.” [Y/N] tried to stop her, tears blurring her vision. Her shaky hands went to the staff the woman was holding and the woman raised her eyebrows in amusement.

“You can barely walk and you want to fight me?” She asked.

“I want to kill you.” [Y/N] gritted her teeth, pushing the woman away from Bucky, who took a loud gasp of breath once the woman fell back. He looked at her with unfocused eyes, trying to register what had just happened. There was a second pause as the woman raised her staff before he realized her intention. Another scream was ripped out of his throat when she thrusted the sharp end of the staff at [Y/N]’s chest. Bucky watched [Y/N] crumpled to her knees in horror.

“So weak,” she spat, leaning down to [Y/N]’s level. “I wonder what will happen if I push this a little deeper and destroy your true love’s heart, Bucky?” The women grinned.

“GET AWAY FROM THEM!” Steve’s voice from the door startled them, enough that Bucky saw a glint of fear in the woman’s eyes. Clint, bless him and his aim, threw his blade at the woman, grinning triumphantly when it hit her stomach. It didn’t seem to hurt her much, but it did make her let go of [Y/N], letting her slump to the floor.

“If you think this is over, you are sorely mistaken.” The woman gasped, the eerie smile still on her face. “I can wait until she dies to get what I want. Maybe I should take your hearts too.” She cackled before disappearing into a smoke.

Bucky crawled to where [Y/N] lay and gently pulled her into his chest, the words ‘sorry’ escaped his lips over and over again while his friends took careful steps towards him.

“I don’t feel so good.” [Y/N] gasped softly, her clutch on Bucky’s shirt slowly loosened. He shook his head, brushing the tears away from her face with his thumb.

“It’s going to be okay.” He told her. He couldn’t stop the sob that escaped his lips when her body went limp in his hold.

“I’ll send letters to the King and the witch.” Sam said before he ran out of the room to get his falcon.

“We should get her to bed. She doesn’t seem to bleed. It’s a good thing, right?” Steve asked, turning to Natasha and Clint who looked just as confused as he was.

“It’s better than a stab wound to the chest.” Natasha finally said, crouching down in front of Bucky. “We need to get her cleaned up, Bucky. And you too.” Clint nodded and walked out of the room to call the servants on Natasha’s quiet order. No one spoke as they tried to get Bucky to move.

“It’s my fault.” Bucky mumbled as Natasha pulled him up, eyes fixed on [Y/N] even as Steve carried her out of the room.

“No, it’s not.” Natasha’s soft voice was so unlike her and on any other day, it would help ease the guilt in his heart. Not today, probably not ever. He didn’t think anything could lessen the pain in his chest but he kept his lips shut as he followed Natasha out of the room.

They needed to repaint the walls of his old room Natasha took him to. If he stared at it long enough, he could see traces of his childhood drawing underneath the white paint that has slightly yellowed and chipped. There was a spot right under the small window where there used to be a small antique upright piano and he would pretend he was a natural-born artist like Steve (he wasn’t. Not even close). His mother never really scolded him, not even when he used the brightest colored crayons and fill the stark white walls with the most abstract drawings (he thought it was because Steve’s drawing next to his were really pretty). When he was older, he let them paint over the drawing, hoping it would help him be more mature. He ended up letting Steve paint one wall of his room with flowers and night sky during his teenage years. The beautiful mural stayed there until he was in his mid-twenties. By then, the princess had come and put him under her spell and the painting was soon seen more as a nuisance. He recalled Steve’s promise of a better painting once he’s married, though he supposed the promise was long forgotten after what happened.

Steve was still talking when Bucky slowly came back from the flashback. He had walked into his room an hour ago with an old book given by the witches who had helped them decades ago and started on explaining what might be happening to [Y/N]. Bucky had tuned everything out after Steve mentioned there was no conclusive spell or medicine to wake her up. Except for the curse, which Bucky doubt they could break after tonight’s event.

“She seemed stronger.” Natasha stated, wrapping a piece of scarf around Bucky’s neck. He didn’t notice his body was shaking until Natasha and Steve gave him a worried look. “She still can’t kill any of us on the castle ground.”

“It’s a good thing.” Clint added, he had come back with Steve, two maids in tow with a tray of warm food and drinks. “That means she couldn’t do anything to us and her. We probably have to wait for Monica to come and help us. Peggy should be back this week. Maybe she could help us too.”

Bucky finally looked at them at the mention of [Y/N]’s sister, his eyes red and bright with unshed tears. “She knows?”

“Sam sent his falcon to give her the news.” Clint nodded. “Don’t we have those old books on healing at the library? There should be something that could help [Y/N].”

“We should probably go there and see if we can find anything useful. Do you want to go see her first, Bucky?” Steve fixed his attention on him again, his blue eyes clouded with worry and sympathy.

“She doesn’t need me there.” Bucky said and shook his head. He ignored the look in Steve’s face and gritted his teeth. You wouldn’t understand. The words hung right on the tips of his lips but he knew Steve didn’t deserve whatever lashing out he wanted to do. Bucky opted to stayed quiet and grabbed his coat from the chair before he quickly left the room.

Tagging some people : @pleasecallmecaptain @mangosoldier @wakandasoldier @tabi-toast @writing-soldiers @4theluvofall @meavie @montysmayhem @scarlettsoldier @marvelrevival @sebbys-girl@waitingfortherightpartner @sebstan-theman @elfwriter1088@wordsturnintostories@chromealchemist@showbuckysomelove @meavie @sawdustandsugar @amiteran

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