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real-jane · 1 year

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poet laureate

part 4 - [professor! bucky barnes x reader]

summary: they share softness. she presents her thesis

warnings: smut. fluff at cosmic levels.

a/n: this is the last installment of our sweet loves! there are two timelines interwoven, here. i hope you enjoy their conclusion.

series masterlist

– – – – –

There was yet one person who had seen his door who wasn’t related to him by blood, and the way she carefully plucked the keys from his shaking hands like she had set the pins to the key’s teeth herself… like she had milled the wood, and stained the surface herself–like his whole sense of home was borne of her fingers, because she herself was the house which held his heart… it made Bucky’s feet sprout roots in the open doorway.

Alpine wound around the foundation of said home; his poet laureate lifted the animal into her arms, murmuring something which made him painfully jealous of them both. To hold her. To be held by her. And wasn’t that the whole reason why he tugged her towards his car? He kissed her at the first stoplight off campus (and the car behind him honked).

Neither of them spoke a word to one another as he locked the door behind them.

She peered at him over the pate of his patron cat, wide-eyes alive with something wild. Bucky crooked his finger, and pointed at his feet… and those beautiful eyes narrowed. She stepped forward until they were toe-to-toe, and Alpine took the opportunity to leap up to her favorite perch on her master’s shoulder. It left the woman’s arms empty. Bucky couldn’t have that.

Of course he remembered touching her before, but like a treasure he had stolen. He wanted to recite her, breath for wanting breath, and with no question that he was going to stay in that bed long after. There would be no running from this woman ever again. He gripped her hips.

“You look like I’m forcing you to touch me,” she whispered, an amused smirk pulling at one corner of her mouth. Bucky huffed.

“I’m thinking.”

“Stop that.” She moved his hands to the small of her back.

“No,” he said wryly. “I made the mistake before of doing this without thinking about it. And then I left, because I didn’t let myself feel it. Doll–I’m not gonna miss one second of this. Not rushing. Or-or pushing things too far, too fast.”

“Only get one shot at a second chance,” she said, and his heart flipped.

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“We didn’t have enough time, the first time.”

“If you want the whole night, I’ll call in sick–” Her laugh made him pause just centimeters from her mouth, while Alpine fled Bucky’s shoulder with a soft thump.

“My cousin would kill me.”

“He’ll get over it.”

It wasn’t a kiss so much as an invitation. He dipped down to her mouth, but waited for her to close the gap between them. When she accepted, he lifted her to her tip-toes, pressed against the length of his body, like just kissing her was enough to give them both wings. Bucky mapped every fiber of her top with the fine ridges of his fingers–soft, but nothing like the skin he found beyond the hem. He turned so he could sit on the sofa, and she straddled him immediately. Panic rose in his chest, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why because she chased his lips like she was addicted to his kiss. He gripped her waist and sat back from her with a pointed glare.

“Slow down,” he murmured.

She giggled. “You make me crazy.” She scrubbed her fingertips through his hair and made his scalp tingle… and his eyelids drooped.

“Stop.” Bucky secured her wrists by her knees. He had a sneaking suspicion that she could slip out of his grasp easily at any time. She raised an eyebrow and waited, lips plump and shining. He growled and kissed her hard.

“You’re being bossy,” she breathed, nipping his lip. Bucky froze just centimeters from her face.

“You used to listen to me.”

“Hmm.” She sat back so all it would take to slip off his knees was a subtle shift of her weight, forcing Bucky to lean forward to keep hold of her. “Yes, but… that was when you didn’t know that I was having very vivid dreams about giving you head in your office.”

“Doll–”

“Or that I’d touch myself listening to your lecture recordings.”

“You didn’t.” His voice had fled and his words came out in a huff.

“I didn’t,” she said wryly. “But I did dream of doing things. With you.”

“Tell me.”

“Give me my hands back.”

“You can have one.”

“One’s all I need.”

He let her take her right hand from his grip, but she tugged at his wrist to coax his hand between them. Bucky kept his eyes dutifully trained on her face, but he huffed when she touched his fingers to the button on her pants.

“Knew I was in trouble when I dreamed about your fingers the first time,” she breathed. “It was after the class where I loaned you my copy of Miłosz.”

“I never did give that back.” He didn’t–it had sat on his bedside table since that very day, so he could chip away at the poems little by little, prolonging the debt to her.

“You didn’t mean to do it, I knew you weren’t like that, but you–mmph.” Bucky dipped his fingers behind her zipper greedily, and groaned despite only reaching the band of her panties. She smiled. “You left your hand on my arm a little too long thanking me, and I felt your fingers all day, like you had branded me.”

He eased the teeth of her zipper down slowly. “I splashed cold water on my face in the bathroom after that class,” he admitted. “Thought I was losing my damn mind. Can I see you?”

“You have–”

“No. Right here.”

“In your living room?” she laughed.

“In my goddamned living room. I’ll even give you your other hand.”

“It’s not really fair if you stay clothed, now is it?”

“Can you pretend for five minutes like you wanna do what I say?” He said it with a modicum of annoyance, but he bit back a smile when she rolled her eyes.

“I swear, if you ask me to call you ‘daddy–’”

“Don’t kinkshame, doll. Maybe I like that kinda thing.”

She froze and eyed him sharply. “Should we talk about our no-goes?”

Bucky smiled gently. “I will do whatever you want. Put my mouth–” he pulled her collar wide and kissed her bare shoulder– “anywhere you’ll let me. I just think you’re particularly cute when you’re telling me off.”

“I promise not to read into that,” she said, tugging at the hem of his shirt. Bucky sat forward so she could liberate the top from his torso, and then her own, and then he kissed her until she sank boneless against him. He flinched when her fingers danced across his shoulders. She kneaded her knuckles into the mottled scar which ran the length of his left arm, focusing her attention on the bicep which clenched in panic.

She pulled away from his mouth with a soft pop. “Buck–”

“Mmm. No–”

“Hey.” She cupped his cheeks and forced him to look at her. When he did, she smiled. “What can I do?”

“It’s–it’s just skin. I don’t… christ.”

“Can I kiss your skin?”

Bucky sighed, willing his panic to go away. “You’ve seen it,” he rationalized.

“I have,” she soothed, dipping her head down to brush her lips at the cap of his shoulder. He shivered.

“Sorry–”

“You fell asleep. Just for a little bit that night, after I got up to use the bathroom.” She kept eye contact, but clasped her left hand with his so she could hold it between them. With her right, she traversed over ridges, some rough, some smooth. “So when I came back, I debated whether or not I should wake you. You never looked so peaceful. I sat down as carefully as I could and I just… looked at you. Everything. It made me realize how much more of you there was to know. I–I wrote hundreds of poems about you, but not one of them as a woman who knew your body. I should’ve dug out my notebook and scribbled something down right then, but instead… I fell asleep with my head on your chest. Tucked into your left side. Cradled by this arm. I know you feel some kinda way about it, but… it’s a… a topographical map of a part of your journey I wasn’t around for. I like all parts of you, Barnes. Even the ones you don’t want me to see.”

Bucky’s head fell forward until he could press his forehead to hers. “Christ,” he repeated.

“I know you’re picking at me to distract me. Huh? What if we just lay together… take it slower?”

He nodded, but he wrapped his right arm around her waist and stood. She clung to him like a spider monkey, laughing in surprise. “Not the couch? I thought you wanted me naked in your goddamn living room.”

“Later.”

“Hmm. This is a nice place, baby.”

Bucky couldn’t help but preen at the compliment and the fond title. “I want you to see my bedroom. I, uh. Yeah.” He nudged open the door and she let down her feet when he bade her, so he could turn on the bedside lamp. From his periphery, he watched her sit at the edge of the mattress on the opposite side of the bed. She peered up at him as she laid back, upside down, with wide and gentle eyes, completely unbothered by wearing only a lacy bra and unzipped pants.

“It’s nice,” she whispered.

He laid on his side, propping his head up next to hers. He gave her a soft kiss. “My sister Rebecca helped a lot. She’s a designer.”

“Lots of connections.”

“Mhm.”

“Artsy genes in your family, eh?”

“Mother’s side.”

“Yeah?”

“Music, mostly.”

“Do you play?” Her face lit up and she mirrored his pose.

“Piano. Since I was four. Although if ma had her way, I would’ve inherited the family instrument.”

“Which is?”

“Tuba,” he chuckled. “There is, in fact, an heirloom Barnes family tuba.”

She grinned. “Oh my god. And yet… you chose literature.”

“It’s what kept me going. When I was overseas.” He lay down fully, nosing her shoulder… or, rather, hiding his face in it. “Some of the most beautiful poetry I ever read was handed to me by a girl, in exchange for my mother’s copy of Emily Dickinson.”

“God. Do you still have it?”

He shook his head. “Lost the book and half my arm when that grenade went off. It was in my left pocket–” he pats the bare skin over his heart– “and the medic pulled out a three-inch piece of shrapnel that lodged itself through the cover, effectively preventing it from going straight into my heart. It saved me. Keeps doing that.”

“Hmm?”

“Poetry,” he murmured into the curve of her shoulder. “It’s what stands between me and a shit-ton of shrapnel. You–you’ve shielded me, doll. You didn’t even know it.”

She sat up then, and tugged on his wrist until he rolled towards her. He laid his head on her thigh, and pressed until he could feel her softness start to push back where bone lay beneath it.

“You think I didn’t?” she said. “You think I haven’t spent every moment in your class watching how you cringe when a flippant freshman insults Whitman, and made it my personal duty to speak up–annoy my classmates even, as long as the look of defeat faded from your face?” She brushed his hair behind his ear. “You love beautiful things. You’re hurt when people dismiss them. I have wanted nothing more than to shield you from anything which belies your wonderment.”

Bucky’s heart was in his throat. “Belies my wonderment,’ huh? You should be a writer.”

Her soft laugh made his head spin. “Bucky, baby… I want to make you crazy with wanting me, with no hesitation.”

“I do, at all costs, I… god, doll. I’m afraid that the second I really give in for once, and let myself have you past all reason, maybe in spite of all logic, I won’t ever stop. I’ll–” He pushed up to his knees and loomed over her, gripping her cheeks. “I’ll be selfish. You’ll stay in my bed, because I want you there. We’ll never, never come up for air.”

“And… that’s a bad thing?” She grasped his wrists. “You know that you can be happy, right?”

“That so?” he breathed. She nodded.

“I don’t require giddiness, Barnes. But if you want to touch me, you should, because I might cease to exist if you don’t. I see every possibility of joy in your eyes. It doesn’t matter to me if you’re scared when you do it, as long as you give yourself a chance. Let me spoil you and feel you, and hold you when you come down, and make you happy. We’ll weather the sad parts, arm-in-arm. But your Happy is my raison d’être, so please–please, James Barnes. Let me touch you until neither of us have the words to say how happy we are. And then, let me touch you again.”

Bucky lowered his head until he could nip at her upper lip–a plush thing which brought to mind all manner of petals he might discover. He kissed her, because he couldn’t tell her ‘no,’ that he didn’t intensely want what she had on offer. No, Bucky kissed her with the intensity of a man who had never realized he was allowed to feel anything other than pain.

She knelt in front of him and he didn’t realize what she was doing (other than unraveling every crinkled yarn of gray-matter in between his years) until her fingers crept between his pants and his briefs to grip his ass. His tongue met hers as those very fingers traversed his hips and around front. Bucky hummed when she cupped him over the softened denim trousers he’d chosen for their workday. As much as she wanted to give him happiness, Bucky needed–from his own molten soul–to give her every moment of the afternoon, as a precursor to the ongoing promise he intended to make. Whether or not he voiced it to her, Bucky didn’t know. But he sat back against the headboard, pulling her to straddle his legs as she had done on the couch. All the while, her lips became plump and heavy with desire. Her nipples pebbled in anticipation of meeting his warm fingers, and ached when he finally worried rough pads over her sensitive curves. Then, he slipped down on the pillow. All the way, evermore keeping her on her knees above him, like a bridge to pleasure. He tugged her down by the neck to kiss him again.

“Come up here,” he whispered. “Let me taste you?”

She seemed to lose her own sanity for a moment, blinking at him. “I’ve never… done that. With anyone.”

“Me neither. Won’t you try?”

“You want me to?”

“Doll–I am putting my mouth on you whether or not you let me do it from under you–”

“Fuck,” she breathed. “Okay. But, if you hate it–”

“I won’t.” Bucky vigorously shook his head. How could he hate any position which allowed him maximum access to her pleasure? He kept her gaze as she bent forward, pressing a kiss to his sternum.

“Take your pants off, too,” she giggled as she slid off the bed. He did so quickly and with little pomp, keeping his eyes glued to her body as she rid herself of her denim. Bucky held out a hand to her once she freed her feet from the cuffs. She linked their fingers and followed his lead… up his torso, so her knees bracketed his ears. He had never had religious experience until the woman of his dreams offered herself to him, but lowering her hips towards his mouth, Bucky understood why men went mad for the taste of a woman. She gasped at the first sure swipe of his tongue. His knuckles went chalky as he gripped her ass to keep her close. If she bruised, he’d sooth the broken capillaries with his tongue, too. But one roll of her hips as he worried her clit, and all thought of what came after fled from his mind.

He was here, now.

She stared at the table of adjudicators. Each one held a copy of her thesis. Seven copies, seven opinions… seven people who would decide whether her master’s project was worth publication, and if Y/n might be awarded her Masters’ degree too. Her parents had opted to attend the virtual presentation, considering that her mother couldn’t promise not to loudly weep while she did her defense. The room was packed with her classmates, and a few people she recognized from the English department, and several strangers, so her nerves rose the closer it got to her start time. There were a few people in attendance whose presence meant much to her, which helped ease her fears a little. For one thing, Sam Wilson sat behind Dean Stark. He gave her a thumb’s up when her eyes flicked to his for the fiftieth time in concern. And a woman came through the door who she didn’t know, but who seemed so familiar… The woman looked to be her age or slightly younger, with medium brown hair and light blue eyes. She smiled as soon as she entered, as if she had been diligently looking for the room. She was nearly late.

The stranger sidled around the adjudicators’ table and approached Y/n at the podium. “Hi–I’m sorry, I realize he probably didn’t tell you I was coming.” She spoke so softly that Y/n had to lean forward a bit. “He’s watching the livestream. Bastard woke me up at six-a.m. to beg me to come. Apparently he likes you. And that’s rare, for my brother.”

“Oh… Rebecca,” Y/n intuited. Bucky called his sister to attend in his place. He—god, he was perfect.

“Barnes,” Rebecca finished for her. “One representative of the family is better than none, eh? Besides, I’m anxious to hear from the woman who could make my brother passionate about something.”

“He’s passionate about a lot of things,” Y/n giggled. “He’s… I don’t have to tell you why your brother is great, do I?”

“No. I’ve always been a fan. I’d kinda do anything for that guy.”

“I know the feeling.” The women exchanged a soft smile of agreement. Rebecca fished in the bag hanging from her shoulder, and held out a little folded paper.

“Good luck, yeah?” Bucky’s sister squeezed Y/n’s arm and then found her seat, besides Sam, who seemed to know her.

Y/n turned her back to the audience so she could read the little note.

I wish I was as unfamiliar with sadness

As I am dragged kicking and screaming into contentment,

But you taught me

I don’t need to be serrated to be seen

I will stare into the face

Of strange happiness

With you.

I love you.

–

He held her up even when her knees gave out, and then turned her so softly into the blankets that she hardly noticed until he was braced above her, offering her a soft kiss. The pillows had fucked off to the floor, and the blankets were adequately rumpled. She reached between them to feel him, and catalog what movement made his eyes press shut with pleasure.

“Oh, doll–you don’t need to do that–”

“Shhh, Barnes.” She smiled against his lips. Bucky kissed her hard and rocked into her touch, clipping her wetness. “You’re gonna give me just one orgasm?”

He narrowed his eyes. “It’s about quality–”

“Mhm. Come here. I’m on the pill and I’m clean, and I might float away if you don’t pin me to this mattress.”

“You know…” Bucky liberated her hand from where she grasped his cock and replaced it with his own. He sat back, lifting her hips and eliciting a gasp of surprise as he yanked her closer. “I think you’re right. I said I was going to be selfish, didn’t I?” He notched the head between her folds and rolled forward until he could feel her muscles give in to make way for him. She was tight, but slick from her first orgasm at the mercy of his mouth, and Bucky had no problem pushing inside of her until her hips rested flush against his. His sanity, however, was short-lived. She was warm silk. He’d had her once–how did he let her go, knowing that she felt like this?

Y/n’s back arched as he retreated. “God.”

“Didn’t get the hype. Before you,” he managed, despite the tugging at the base of his dick which had him fighting back his own release. “Didn’t see the point.”

“Do you get it now?” She bit her lip and contracted her inner muscles around him. He groaned.

“Oh, babydoll.”

He held on long enough to make her come again, but his own release followed on her heels. Bucky laid, sweat-slick skin to skin with his nose tucked beneath her chin. Neither of them made an effort to do anything but breathe a little deeper.

When he regained his faculties, he realized she was shaking. Her arms were curled around his shoulders to hold him tight, and he felt a warm tear slide off her chin.

“Oh—“

“Shhh. I don’t know why I’m crying. No, I do know, but I can’t stop.” She gripped him for dear life.

“Doll?” Bucky pushed up to his elbows so he could see her face. She let her arms slide apart, but kept a tight grasp on his biceps. Bucky smiled softly at the sight of her awestruck tears. She tried to blink them away, but he kissed her forehead.

“How did I earn this?” She sighed. “I’m not well-behaved. I—“

“It’s okay,” he soothed, though his chest tightened to hear her doubt herself.

“You didn’t run.”

Bucky shook his head. “I’m home. Do you want some water?” She sniffled and nodded. Bucky kissed her gently. “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

By the time he returned to the bedroom, armed with two glasses of ice water, she was laying under the covers. He had heard the bathroom door shut and open again, and she was no longer fighting away tears. He handed her a glass and set his own on his bedside table. She drank deeply, downing the entire glass in no time at all.

“Mmm. Why do you ever bother to wear clothes?” she asked appreciatively as he sat beside her, slipping under the comforter which was warm from their combined body heat. He wrinkled his nose at her, but did not deign to give a response. Instead, he reached over to retrieve his pillow from the floor. He laid down, and held open his arms.

She turned on her side and wiggled backwards until her back was pressed to his chest.

“Can’t get close enough,” Bucky whispered, kissing her neck just behind her ear.

“Sure you can.” She canted her hips to tease him. He smoothed his hand over her hip, over the round of her ass. Even if he didn’t know what it felt like to have their bodies joined, Bucky would’ve known her skin. It felt like he had for ages–earlier than their fumbled fairytale night. In some other world, maybe, where things were easier. He didn’t believe in other lives, but maybe they were made of adjacent star stuff.

—

She didn’t usually get choked up reading her own work but now every poem in her thesis had a second secret stanza; it was the same for every poem. But now I know he loves me too. She bit back tears when she finished the last selection for her presentation and smiled at the adjudicators in anticipation of their feedback. Dean Stark was solemn but when he looked up at her, his eyes glinted.

“This is an exceptional opus,” he said. “You should be very proud of this.”

“I am,” she peeped.

“I hope that you’ll sign a copy for me.”

She smiled. “Sure.”

“Good. We will adjourn here, then. You will have our full evaluation this evening. Congratulations.” Dean Stark started applause, which the rest of the room was quick to pick up. Y/n beamed, and then reached for her bag and bolted for the door.

“Y/n!” Rebecca called, running to catch up. She looped her hand through Y/n’s elbow. “He’s in the car. Don’t worry, I cracked the windows.” The two women exchanged excited smiles.

—

Bucky moved to retreat from her for the millionth time and she moaned. He stiffened inside her. “Fuck,” he breathed. She smiled dreamily. Her tears had been soothed away by his thumbs over her cheeks, and kisses which drove home how much she deserved something as beautiful as that.

A pitiful meow at the door drew their attention. Alpine peeked around the doorway. “You’re not used to all this commotion, are you, fluff?” Bucky eased himself away from heaven, leaving a lingering kiss on Y/n’s lips. “I gotta make a call. And then I can make you dinner, if you’re hungry.”

“Dinner? What time is it?” she asked, astonished. Bucky nodded to his bedside clock, which read 5:07 PM. “We didn’t.”

Bucky scooped up his sweet kitten and plopped her onto his pillow. “Watch her. She’s trouble, that one.”

“Awe, no… she’s perfect.” Y/n scritched Alpine beneath the chin, and the cat purred in delight.

“Wasn’t talking to you, babydoll.” He winked and left the room to figure out where he had abandoned his cell phone.

The soft cat snuggled up under her chin, and her owner returned to mirror the posture a few minutes later… having called into work “sick” with love, and something very much like contentment.

–

They approached a sedan with the windows rolled down and a man in flannel leaning out of the passenger window, head propped up on his hand and eyes firmly shut. He wasn’t asleep… he was painfully concentrating on not bursting from his wheeled cage and charging head-first into the lecture hall to congratulate his poet laureate on an incredible presentation.

But he heard her snicker… and that was enough to free him.

Bucky scrambled from the car, stumbling as he caught his toe on the foot tread. Not ten feet away stood a woman he had risked it all for, and would risk more… life, limb, reputation, dignity, any other valuable things he could think of if pressed… arm-in-arm with his little sister. Bucky beamed at them both.

“She killed it,” Becca said softly.

“You did, doll. You really did.” Bucky scrubbed a hand over his jaw.

Y/n reached into her bag without so much as another word. From inside the satchel, she produced a dark blue leather-bound portfolio, which she handed to him.

In his hands were the words which she spun from heart-strings. Her thesis. Poetry for him, about him… with no apology for loving him imperfectly. Bucky swallowed hard and opened the cover to the first page. The acknowledgements.

For my David, beloved, who took the chisel from my hand and returned me to stone. Lips and fingers soft as granite. A smile which cracked a fissure right through the heart of me. For the muse who made me.

Bucky’s gaze flickered upwards to find Y/n watching him with her bottom lip strained between her teeth. He huffed.

“You’re going to pretend like you didn’t change my whole world?” he murmured. Bucky stepped forward, which spurred Rebecca to pull away from the other woman. Bucky caught his sister’s elbow and pulled her to his side. She hugged him. “Thanks, Becs,” he said into her crown.

“You know who’d love her?” Becca whispered. She touched the pendant at her collar, a simple cross which had belonged to their mother. His sister said nothing else. She didn’t need to. Not with the way Bucky’s eyes immediately welled.

“I got somewhere to be. You two find your way home okay?” Rebecca didn’t wait for an answer. She got into her little car and drove away.

All the while… Bucky stared at his girl. “Ma would’ve,” he said evenly. “Loved you. She’d take one look at you and know it all. She was like that–one cursory glance and she could see all your potential. Even when you were fucking blind to it,” he chuckled. “I think I inherited her senses, but in reverse, because when I look at you, doll… god. I see my whole life ahead of me.”

She kissed him with tears in her eyes, but not one ounce of sadness. His poet laureate, his mirror, the worst enemy of his dignity… she kissed him as if every word in that leather book were true, and for his part…

Bucky believed her.

The End.

___

thank you for reading! :)

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imwall-e · 2 years

Text

EVERY HOUR

Pairing : Professor!Bucky x Antiquarian!Reader

Summary : The day you and Bucky met in your antique shop. Four years later, you're together. Bucky became an Historian professor and he's still ho as ever.

Teaser for Romance 202

Warning : AU, fluff, smut, mentions of injuries during war, mentions of PTSD, female reader, sextoy, oral (f to m), teasing, fingering. (Tell me if I forget any!)

Minors do not interact

Word count : 2153

Author's note : A huge thank to the.stan.page on instagram who corrected my work and suggested me to turn this OS into a fanfiction. I hope you'll read Romance 202. Do not hesitate to leave a comment and revlog my work!

When you met Bucky, he wasn’t a very talkative person. He had been in the army for two years, but during his last mission he found himself trapped in a house fire. Steve, Sam and Natasha managed to save his life, but the left part of his body was burned. But the worst was his mind: his nights were filled with nightmares. The days were no better : too many sounds, too much light, too much everything.

Following this trauma, he had to have regular appointments with a therapist. As it was difficult to go out, the therapist agreed to come to Bucky's small apartment. The first few months, Bucky barely talked. One or two words or not at all. Eventually, he started to talk more about how he felt even if it was still really hard for him. A year later, it was less difficult for him to go out. Sports helped him, reading too. He also started to browse garage sales and collect vintage furniture : staying at home made him realise he never focused more on what he was interested in. But he soon discovered he loved things from the past.

Finally, he decided to move. His apartment was too small for him. It represented a bad year and he needed to leave, to have something bigger and focus on his future : becoming a professor. As Bucky loved vintage and retro style, he eventually settled for an old house, not far from the city but isolated enough, and decided to decorate it in those styles he loved.

Steve offered him his old phonograph and some furniture he inherited from his mother. Bucky found a few things in garage sales, but it wasn’t enough and he headed for an antique shop. That’s where he met you.

When he entered your shop, he felt like he was entering a place from another time. You were on the phone - probably with a client - and the device you were using was a rotary phone from the 1930s. You were wearing a beautiful dress that fitted the theme of your shop, and your smile was brighter than the sun.

He didn’t hear you talking to him as he was way to focus on an old clock that reminded him of the one his grandmother had. His sister Rebecca and he spent some of their holidays with her. When he couldn’t sleep, he always referred to its sound to know what time it was.

Unfortunately, his grandmother passed away years ago and they had to sell it to pay for her funeral. His father had abandoned them, and his mother had three different jobs so that he and Rebecca wouldn’t lack anything.

“Sir?”he finally heard a voice. Turning his head, he saw you near him, a smile still on your face.

“Sorry, I… I wasn’t really there,” he apologised, but you didn’t seem annoyed. On the contrary, you laughed lightly“Don’t worry, I can understand. This furniture is incredible. They contain a lot of memories, and sometimes - and I think it’s your case - they bring back people we miss, they remind us of our past.”

“You have a really special way of talking about all this.” Bucky told you, admiration in his voice. He knew he could hear you talk all day about your shop, about you, about anything.

He noticed that you blushed “I just love old things. They’re splendid and have something I can’t find in contemporary furniture. Anyway, I should talk less and let you look around, see if you find more treasures. If you need me, I’ll be at my desk.”

“Actually…” Fuck. What could he say? He didn’t want you to leave, your presence was so comforting. “Do… do you… can…” fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What was wrong with him? “Sorry, looks like I’m at a loss for words when I’m around a beautiful woman.” He slapped himself mentally.

You blushed and avoided his gaze. You wanted to say thank you, or at least tell him that he was really handsome, that he was as special as the antique furniture in your shop, but you were never good with compliments.

“So, huh, can I help you with something?” you tried to change the subject.

Fuck, Buchanan. Now she thinks you’re weird and embarrassing. He probably ruined all his chances to ask you out. In his defence, he hadn’t dated for a while.

“Yeah, huh… I’d like to know the price for this clock, and if you have phones like the one you were using when I came in. I bought a new house and I’m redecorating,” he explained, doing his best to make you feel more comfortable and forget about the awkward situation.

However, you didn’t think he was weird. You were just too shy and wasn’ t used to someone flirting with you. Especially a man who seemed to love old things as much as you did.

“Well, the clock is $1500. Do you want it?”

“Yes please. I’ll just have to message a friend to help me carry it.” Steve had a truck large enough to transport the clock and any other furniture Bucky bought. Money wasn’t a problem for him because he inherited from his uncle a year ago.

“No problem. I’ll just hang a tag to indicate it’s sold, just in case another customer walks in and is also interested in your new clock. About the phone”, you continued after adding the tag, “I have three models left.”

On a shelf near the back of the store were three old rotary phones.

“From left to right you have the 50AL candlestick at $400. This desk set was the first free-standing dial telephone and was introduced in 1919. The model 202 at $300, introduced in 1930, and can be identified by its oval base. Finally, the model A1 at $100. In 1927, Western Electric produced its first model to use a handset, making it easier for the subscriber to use the telephone while keeping a hand free for taking notes or performing other tasks.”

Bucky was really impressed by your knowledge and was ready to buy the whole store to hear you explain every story of every object.

“I think I’m gonna take the 202. I wish I could take the candlestick too, but I have a lot of other things to buy.”

“I can understand”, you said as you were taking the phone he chose to put it in a beautiful box. You then lead him to your desk. “That will be $1800, please.”

Bucky just needed to pay. Steve would be there any minute now that he sent the message.

“I’m really lucky I have found your shop.” He hesitated, then said : “I’m James by the way.”

You stopped your movements, took a deep breath and Bucky really thought you were going to ask him to leave and never come back. But you just looked at him and your eyes were like gems to him.

“I… I’m Y/N. I’m glad you found some treasures here.”

Bucky wanted to ask for your number, but Steve decided to arrive at this exact moment and they had to leave now because he was double parked. So he waved at you, making you smile. He spent the rest of the day thinking about you, installing the clock in his hallway, and his new phone. He tried to do the latter as fast as possible for one reason : when he opened the box to unpack the phone, he found a card with a phone number and a note :

And he didn’t wait until the next day to hear your voice again.

I hope you will call me with you new phone

~Y/N

After that, you saw each other very often and after a few months, you started dating. You went together on garage sales to find antiquities for your shop, and to help Bucky set up his house. He shared his desire to become a history professor and you encouraged him and helped him.

After two years together and when he obtained his diploma, Bucky asked you to move in with him. You accepted without hesitation.

Now you were together for four years.

You were in the library part of the house, reading a book you just bought, when Bucky arrived wearing his fucking glasses, a boxer and a long vest, a newspaper in his hand.

Fuck, you thought, he is so hot. And it made you wet already.

“Good morning, Sir.”

“I love when you call me like that, sunshine.”

“Well, you’re dressed in a way, I could get on my knees for you.”

“Oh, you’re gonna be on your knees. But first, I want you naked on my lap while reading the newspaper.”

He wanted to play, and you were wetter just thinking about it. Bucky sat on the couch and looked at you with.

“Don’t make me wait, sunshine. Or I’ll have to punish you.”

You slowly removed your dress, your eyes never leaving his, and asked : “Is that supposed to make me go faster?”

“I sometimes forget that you love it when I spank you”, he said while taking your hands to put you on his lap. For you, it wasn’t really fair to be the only one naked, so you tried to remove his vest. Unfortunately for you, Bucky wanted to make you wait.

Without any warning, he put a finger inside and removed it instantly, making you moan then whine at the loss.

“Try again to undress me before I finish reading, and I edge you until tonight.”

You didn’t want that… at least not today. It was always worth it when he edged you for hours, but at the moment, you weren’t patient.

“Can I at least kiss your neck ?”

“Yes my sunshine.”

You kissed him softly on his neck, sometimes playing with his hair. What made you smile was that you noticed he was struggling to focus on his reading : his neck was a sensitive part, you knew it and continued your soft kisses, biting this spot that made him weak.

However, Bucky had a little surprise for you and your pussy. You soon felt something against your clit and inside you. It wasn’t Bucky, and it was vibrating. And damn, it felt so good.

“Fuck… Jamie…”, you moaned.

“Sunshine, I can feel you dripping. You’re so wet, and that makes me so hard”, he whispered in your ear.” “Now, be a good girl and get down on your knees to suck me.”

Once you were in position, Bucky lifted your chin up and told you with a grin : “And sunshine? Don’t let the toy fall.”

You slowly took him in your mouth, squeezing your legs to keep the vibrator inside you. And it was a hard thing to do considering how wet you were. Bucky was moaning and whispering your name as you took him all in. The feeling of your mouth and tongue around his cock was sending him to heaven. But he knew it was nothing compared to your tight pussy.

What was he reading again?

“James…, he heard you moan, “gonna cum…”

Oh, no, he thought, you were not. Not on this toy. He really wanted to play but he wanted you to milk his cock, to cum around him. In a second, the toy was on the floor and Bucky inside you.

“Fuck, sunshine… you’re so tight.”

Just a few thrusts and you were coming. But it didn’t stop Bucky. He continued pounding your pussy relentlessly.

“James… fuck… so good… but can’t…”, that’s all the words you mangaged to say. Bucky didn’t stop. He wanted you. He needed you. You were his, and he was marking you. Gripping your hips, kissing you, leaving hickeys wherever his mouth stopped, sucking your nipples. It was hard to talk or even think with how your man made you feel.

“You can give me another one, sunshine. Just one more orgasm. I know you can, you will. It won’t be your first time having multiple orgasms, thanks to me.”

You were so close now, and Bucky too. You could feel it.

“Come inside James. Please.”

He didn’t need more to paint your insides white while you were cumming again around his cock. None of you moved. Your head was on Bucky’s neck and one of his hands was in your hair, the other on your lower back. You were both panting, but feeling great.

“That was so good, Jamie.”

“Did you love the toy?”

“Very much, Mr Barnes. You can use it whenever you want.”

“Don’t tempt me”, he chuckled.

“I wondered”, you started saying while looking into his blue eyes, “do you prefer having sex in the morning or in the evening?”

“Every hour if possible. So I hope you’re ready for the day.”

You moved your hips, making him moan, his cock hardening again.

“I’m ready right now, Professor Barnes.”

#professor bucky x reader #professor bucky #professor bucky x antiquarian reader #antiquarian reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfiction #smut #future fanfic #vintage #antique #au

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povlvr · 1 year

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I'm still squirreling away on my series which has about 3 or 4 chapters left, but I have so many One Shot Ideas that I can finish before I get started with a new series so help me pick which order I finish them.

#poll #i got poll #fluffy bucky #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #dbf!bucky #professor bucky #writing help #help

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myfictionaldreams · 2 months

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First off, wanted to say the new stucky fic was brilliant (as I knew it would be).

Second, idk about specific authors on ao3 who do professor Bucky fics but if you click the 'edit your search' button then put 'Bucky barnes/reader' in the relationships section and 'teacher-student relationships' into the additional tags section it might come up with that kinda stuff? I tried it and it seems like the kinda stuff that person was on about so it might have the fic they're looking for somewhere there🤷‍♀️

-☺

Thank you so much. 😁

Ohhh that’s a good idea! Hope this helps the other anon!

#🙂#asks*#professor bucky

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buckysbaron · 2 years

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Office Hours ~ a Winterbaron College AU fic

Tags: College/University, Student/Teacher, Age Difference, Top Bucky Barnes, Bottom Helmut Zemo, Dom/sub, BDSM [many more to come...]

Rating: Explicit

Summary: When a handsome student in Professor Barnes' class comes onto him, Bucky has a difficult time keeping it professional…

Helloooo tumblr! Me and @flannelsaurus are back with another fic - this time Professor Bucky and young Student Zemo 👀 We've posted 2 chapters (7600 words) so far out of maybe 15 or so... and are hoping to post frequently! Check it out if you're in the autumnal mood for a college AU~

#winterbaron #helmut zemo #bucky barnes #winterbaron fic #professor bucky #my fic

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

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I’m having a fucking brain fart🤦‍♀️ first I forgot to tag the people that helped me with “a whores fairytale” and then I forgot to link the outfit in “Professor”🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

#imyourbratzdollasks #anons welcome #I’m a dumbass #a whores fairytale #professor bucky

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buckyalpine · 1 year

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Student Bucky

Shy Beefy Student Bucky x Professor Reader

No thots, just

He’s so smitten with his professor, always mesmerized with anything you say, gazing at you with heart eyes while you deliver your lectures. He could listen to you speak for hours, always finding a seat at the very front of the large hall so he doesn’t miss a word.

He’s too shy to ever raise his hand and participate which is upsetting considering he’s on of the brightest students in your class. You always toss him a soft smile when you see him, adoring the little blush that follows after; it’s even worse when you compliment his papers.

Every time he thinks about you, his mind ends up going to less than holy places and his hand finds itself down his pants. He can’t help it, thinking about your pretty body in those suits and skirts, how gorgeous you’d look spread out on your desk. You’re so brilliant and pretty and sweet and he isn’t sure how many times its been but his sheets are messy but he’s still so hard.

He almost has a heart attack when you ask if he’d like to come on board a research project your doing. Obviously he’d never say no but your doe eyes looking up at him are too much and he can only nod in response.

A few late nights and not so innocent touches later

He’s so shy, he’s not even aware of how his size engulfs you under him, all his focus set on making you feel so good, giving you all the pleasure you deserve.

“Does-does it feel good for you?” He asked timidly, biting down on his bottom lip, keeping his moans down, abs tensed from holding his body back from releasing too quickly. He can feel his cock throbbing, his orgasm already at the base of his length.

“So good baby, so so good” You moan, your arms and legs wrapped around his body, the both of you in the middle of your large bed, all clothes tossed off, nothing separating you. “Making me feel so good baby”

The pet name makes him feral as he preens, adjusting his hips so he can fuck the very depths of your soul making you see stars. He maneuvers your legs higher up on his waist, loving the way your ankles are locked around his lower back. You let your hands wander around his body, clawing at the muscles on his back, and holding onto his biceps.

“M’I doing okay?” He pants against your skin, hesitantly bringing his hands to lace with yours, pinning you against the mattress. All you can do is moan and nod, the tip of his cock hitting that sensitive spot just right, your arousal making a creamy mess all along his veiny girthy shaft. “Yeah? M’making you feel good?”

“You’re-so-thick-oh God” You cry out between thrusts, gasping at the stretch while he blushes, keeping his face hidden from you.

“I am?”

You giggle at his shyness, kissing his temple, finding his soft sweetness endearing.

“So thick baby, cock stretching me so good”

“You like it?”

“So fucking good James”

“M’gonna cum” He whines out, his pace growing sloppy but he doesn’t want to stop, he wants this night to last (not realizing it was the first of many). You gasp when he pulls out and buries his face between your legs. He laps at your arousal, mixed with his precum, your sensitive cunt soaking his scruffy cheeks.

“Wan you to cum first” He shoves two fingers into your sopping core, thrusting and curling them till your screaming, your thighs trapping him in.

“JAMES”

“Say-say my name” He lets out a broken moan, growling when he feels your hand tug at his roots, his eyes rolling back. “You taste so good”

“You like that sweet boy? Like when I moan your name?” Your back arches off the bed as he suckles on your swollen clit, your body convulsing as pleasure consumes you. He laps up every drop you give him, not giving you a second to catch your breath; he flips you over with ease, bringing your ass all the way up and shoves his cock back in.

“F-FUCK JA-MES” you claw at the sheets while his large hands grip your hips, slamming your ass back on him to meet his thrusts, his heavy balls hitting your throbbing clit each time.

“You feel so good, don’t wanna pull out” he moaned, throwing his head back, nearly whimpering when he feels you flutter and clench around his swollen cock, your second orgasm already barrelling towards you.

“Can-can I cum in you?” He’s asking permission but he doesn’t know if he’ll have the willpower to pull out if you said no. He’s never felt so good, his cock harder and more sensitive than ever, your pussy swallowing every Inch he gives.

“Cum in me sweet boy” you slur out, letting him man handle you, getting off on how soft and sweet he is, a stark contrast to the way he fucked like an animal.

“Cum with me” he cries out, snaking his hand around to rub your clit, letting his heavy body collapse on top of you, rutting into you, letting his cock rub against your sweet spot. “M’gonna cum so much for you, fuck”

He gives you a few more harsh thrusts before he moans loudly in the back of your neck, his hands reaching out to grab something, locking with yours.

You both lay panting in a post sex haze, his warm cum making you thighs sticky. It doesn’t take long to feel him get hard inside you again, a low rumble emitting from his chest when you clench around him. He slowly drags his cock out before pushing it back in, letting his cum squirt out onto the sheets.

“Can I?” He asks softly, between gently thrusts, wrapping his arms around you when you nod, taking his time to savour your soft body wrapped around his large one. “Don’t wanna leave, you feel so good”

“We have all night baby, all night”

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real-jane · 2 years

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poet laureate

part 1 - [prof bucky barnes x fem!reader]

summary: bucky spent one fateful night with someone he shouldn't have. the guilt drove him to resign from his teaching position. a hasty choice may have been his best mistake.

warnings: discussion of grief/loss. smut in future parts. slowish burn.

a/n: this prompt idea originally came from @thornsnvultures: "I'd love a college au Bucky. English Lit professor!Bucky who loves to teach Tolkien, maybe? 🤔" I hope you enjoy! this will likely be about three parts. all poetry is my own.

series masterlist

– – – – –

Resigning was easy.

Telling her was herculean. How do you tell a woman she’s the reason you quit your job?

Nobody knew about them. They didn’t go out on dates, or steal longing glances at one another in the dim light of the overhead projector, while some freshman stumbled over Hamlet’s soliloquy.

It happened once, a month prior.

One fleeting evening, in a distant city–a footnote on the Summer break, below a citation for an unusually cool August, and the number of students projected to be out with Mononucleosis. But it consumed him.

Nothing occurred between them until her fellowship presentation at a writer’s symposium in Massachusetts, on the brink of the new semester. He wasn’t sure why he went–except she was his best student, his mentee, and she invited him (with a handwritten letter, no less). So he drove four hours to attend her presentation, and immersed himself in her work until he was drunk on her. And she was so exuberant in the afterglow of a standing-room-only exhibition, it was easy to accept her invitation to a dive bar in Amherst afterwards, and pretend like he wasn’t her Graduate Advisor.

She kissed him. Neither of them imbibed–Bucky because he planned to make the trip back to New York that night, and her because she wanted to ‘experience every raw thing.’ Apparently, he qualified. If she wanted a man with a heart still on the vine, she couldn’t have chosen better. There were plenty of reasons why she shouldn’t have snuck him into her room, especially a student building.

But she did, and Bucky experienced something which put him in jeopardy: a thing with no name, something which rooted itself at the base of his spine and began climbing with fury. The moment she fell asleep, he yanked on his trousers and left. He drove back to New York shoeless, sober–ruined. It was unbearable to be without her skin against his; he viciously hungered with nothing to sate him, at his own peril.

The further away from her he got, the more he realized what a mistake it was to feel anything at all.

–

She wasn’t sure which hurt more: waking up alone, or walking into his classroom on the first day of class to find his TA had taken over ‘for the semester’, after spending forty-five minutes hyping herself up to face him again. The interim instructor handed out essays which had been intended as a pre-semester litmus for the class’ overall skill, submitted in the last week before the school year began; Professor Barnes had allegedly graded the papers, but hers had no such notation until the last page. The blue ink there was barely legible. If the first nine words hadn’t been her own, plucked straight out of a poem from her fellowship, she might not have known them at all, but the more she read, the clearer they became:

‘you will do better the less you have of me’ How wise the author. How true of you. I couldn’t bring myself to read this essay. This was a trite assignment compared to the kind of work you showed in your presentation. I have no doubt you served the subject admirably. Your grade will reflect as much. What I did was unfair to you, unethical to my position, and cruel to myself. I’ve resigned. JB

She experienced a hollowing as his fingers reached through the deeply scrawled words, into her chest. A snapped rib would be a comfort by comparison. She froze, staring at the personal note, while memories of him from one beautiful night filtered in. Every one was sallow under scrutiny: His soft kiss, a warning. His bashful smirk, a mask. His socks, forgotten under her bed–the only proof he had been there at all, except for a purple bruise above her left breast, and the scent of his cedar cologne on her pillow.

More than anything, she wished she had woken up when he slipped out of bed, so she could tell him what beauty she saw in him, and thank him for sharing a piece of himself she was sure he rarely showed, if ever. Or that he had the courage to face her in class, share an awkward look, and move on.

His note read like a challenge. Not that he intended it as such. He seemed to be saying I don’t deserve a single thing, and I'll ruin you. Maybe she wanted to be ruined for other men, like the types which clogged academia, with their egos one ducked to avoid. Perhaps the best thing to happen to a woman who made sense of the world through poetry was a man for whom words were a commodity.

She always thought her crush unrequited. She had invited him to her symposium on a brave wine-induced whim, expecting he’d see the Amherst address and beg out. Professor Barnes was the kind of instructor one changed their major for the privilege of studying with. He never minced words, he didn’t deify dead white scribes, and most of the time, he had thoughtful critique–which was as useful as it was cutting. He cared enough about her work to dislike some of it, let alone read it. She became addicted to his feedback, and the twinkle in his blue eyes when some inspiration sparked.

Professor Barnes was handsome, to be sure, but he didn’t wear the designation like a medal. Most of the time, he seemed to have misplaced his razor, he couldn’t keep his hair contained in a tie (draping as it did over his forehead), and he wore long sleeves even in the height of Summer, with the cuffs rucked up to his elbows. His concern was always with his students’ success, not his appearance. It was hard not to adore someone for whom teaching wasn’t his gateway into the arms of popularity or politics.

The only arms he fell into were hers, and he didn’t think himself worthy of that.

She kicked herself for not thinking about how something as simple as asking him for a drink could put him in an ethical conundrum. If the Dean found out he slept with a student, even someone only a few years his junior, he could be fired in disgrace. No wonder he resigned.

She slumped down in her chair. What had she done?

–

He stared at the envelope–well, the corner, anyway, which bore her name. Alpine’s snowy puff of a belly obscured the rest of the words. Bucky’s curiosity got the best of him, and he liberated the letter. The cat made a sullen mewl. He scratched her chin.

He’d wallowed for two days in his dark apartment, so he winced as he turned on the side table lamp. The envelope was postmarked in the East Village, but bore no return address. With one finger, Bucky broke open the seal.

A wave of lilac perfume filled his nostrils, pushing him deeper into the cushions of his sofa. He unfolded the paper within.

JB– Enclosed you’ll find several items which I hope you will do me the honor of reading. As you have deemed any of my non-poetic works ‘trite’ compared to those performed in my workshop, I have also included poems to pad the delivery. I hope this note finds you. I’d wish that it found you well, but you’d think I was being sarcastic. But all I want is for it to reach you, in whatever shape or form you’ve taken. Does that form still give critique? I have to submit three of these poems to complete my thesis by next Monday. You’re still the only person I trust. You’d do better, I think, with *more* of me. If you read the poem more closely, you’d remember the line directly following: ‘but I will waste and waste like something unheavenly’ I’m unheavenly, JB. Please write back. I don’t care if you have nothing to say. Mike will get it to me.

His heart lurched. Mike? The letter was unsigned. She did indeed send poems, eight in total. He read them. Three, four times. The more he perused them, the lighter he felt.

He chose his favorites, or at least his top five (not including the two he gave honorable mention), and wrote down his thoughts as quickly as his fingers could go under each poem, as he had in the run up to her fellowship, attempting to advise her all the way from New York–’it’s a vivid word but ‘aqueous’ drags, pick something which doesn’t take away from the cadence’--’you’ve got something here, I wonder how it would read if you broke at conjunctions’--’this isn’t hitting. I think it’s got something to do with the focus. It’s too outward. Point inward, you’ll be there.’

Something else in the envelope caught his eye: a business card for a whiskey bar called ‘Howlers’, which appeared to be a joint in Bed-Stuy, just fifteen minutes away on foot (according to his gps app). He flipped the card.

Ask for Mike.

–

The bar was dimly lit, but packed. Most of the crowd had a decade on Bucky, maybe more, and there were few places to perch next to the bar to draw the bartender’s eye–perch, but not sit; it must have been ladies’ night, because women in tight jeans and faux leather jackets shared stools, a cheek apiece on the wooden circles topping the seating (many of whom became acquainted because they pressed their hips together).

Bucky meandered through the crowd. The only person he could easily identify as working for Howlers was the bartender, so Bucky did his best to hug the far wall and sidle up next to the pick-up plane, where servers might have restocked trays of drinks, if there was a server to be had. The bartender gave him a nod, but took almost ten minutes to step away from a slew of customized martinis. By the time he approached Bucky, Bucky had gotten unwillingly dragged into a conversation with a pair of women celebrating a recent divorce, by virtue of being a man who they could ply with questions like why DO men leave their underwear on the floor? For Bucky’s part, all he could do was shrug. Bucky was fastidious at home–call it his Army conditioning, or the ever-present anxiety thrumming through his veins. He could not speak to such an epidemic.

“What can I getcha?” The bartender braced against the mahogany counter. “Please don’t say a martini.”

“No, uh–Mike?”

“You got ‘im.”

Bucky extended the envelope toward him. “I am supposed to give this to you.” The shell of his ears burned as he flushed.

Mike raised an eyebrow. “So. You’re the guy.” He didn’t take the envelope. In fact, he whistled at the divorcees beside Bucky, and pointed to a newly vacated hightop against the far wall. The women squealed and abandoned their stool. Mike gestured for Bucky to sit.

Bucky did, but every nerve in his body told him not to. If Mike hadn’t set a tumblr on a napkin in front of him, and poured two fingers of Bucky’s favorite scotch therein, he probably would have fled, envelope be damned. But he understood: find Mike, stay for a drink. Of course she couldn’t let him make the drop and run…

“Was she right?” Mike asked, pointing to the glass. “Fifteen year.”

Bucky sighed. “Yeah.”

Mike snorted. “She annoys the shitta me too, man, but it’s part of her charm.” He was flagged down by more patrons at the other side of the bar, so the bartender left Bucky to his drink.

A lock of hair escaped from his ponytail, which almost sent him over the edge. Bucky removed the tie and carded both hands through his too-long locks.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show.”

Bucky would know her voice if he heard it in the depths of a coma. He had memorized the vocalizations in the back of her throat when she disagreed with something in class, her tendency to emphasize adverbs like they had a sharp edge… and the softness with which she said the word you. He closed his eyes, wishing to be swallowed up by the floor.

“Are you okay?” She muttered the question at his elbow, with fingers curling into his sleeve. Bucky didn’t look at her. He took a swig of his drink and let it burn its way down his throat, without the tiniest wince.

“Guess I sorta get that.” She rubbed his forearm for a moment.

“You’re here,” he growled, because that was certainly the reason why he could in no way be described as ‘okay.’

“Not sure how else to talk to you, given that I don’t have your number and you aren’t responding to email. And as much as I enjoy snail mail correspondence, I’m much more of an instant gratification kinda girl.” She gave the envelope beneath his arm a tug until he lifted it.

Bucky cleared his throat. “I made notes. Going forward, if you need feedback, get with Wilson–”

“No.” She thumbed open the flap.

He slapped a palm over her fingers as they went for the note card. “Don’t read that, alright.”

“Why?” she tried to pull her hand free, but his grip tightened.

“It’s irrelevant.”

“Did you tell me to fuck off?” she scoffed.

“Does that sound like me?”

“I don’t know you, Barnes. I thought I did. But I also didn’t peg you as a coward.”

Bucky’s head snapped up in insult, but she had been forced to stand so near to him that her face was inches from his, and the sadness in her eyes hit him.

“That was harsh,” she said apologetically, but he shook his head.

“Apt, though.”

“Give me ten minutes, at least?” She didn’t wait for him to give his consent, but it was clear he was meant to follow.

Bucky threw a twenty on the bartop, along with his dignity, and he followed her out the front door. She waited at the curb. By the time he joined her, she was digging in her bag, with a cigarette balanced on her lip.

“Since when do you smoke?” he asked.

She smiled from one corner of her mouth, and lit her cigarette with a bright pink lighter. “You found the place okay.”

“The neon sign helped. How do you know Mike?”

“My cousin.”

“Ah, so. Not a guy friend.”

She laughed off the question. “There’s a park a few blocks west. You wanna walk?”

“Alright.”

They walked, dyssynchronous; she stepped in time with sleepy puffs from her cigarette, while Bucky caught his toes on raised concrete cracks from dragging his feet. She looped her hand through his elbow after a violent shiver, and they were in forced tandem. He told himself–I hate her lilac perfume–even as he held her wrist against his ribs. She grew tired of smoking but kept it upright like a pathetic candle. Waiting. He took it from her. He felt her gaze on his mouth as he took a hit, confirming what he had already suspected: this was his brand. He let the smoke escape slowly from between his teeth to punish her, but all she did was make a titter at the back of her throat.

“I only do it when I drink. But. That’s why.”

“I’m a bad influence.”

“Sure are.” She made a pinching motion with her fingers to ask for it back.

“What do you want, doll?” He flicked the stub into the gutter, where it hissed against the sludge from the first surprise snow of the Autumn.

“You’re not happy to see me?”

He glared at her out of the corner of his eye. “I think you know the answer already. I came down here because I’m a sucker.”

“Knew it.” She squeezed his arm. “I missed you too.”

It had only been a month since he had last seen her, but god–Bucky missed her with his entire being. From the moment he put his resignation letter in the hands of the Dean, the feeling intensified. The idea of not seeing her tortured him. Talking to her, having her cling to him–it was worse and better, and his heart raced, and he had never wanted to run more. So he covered her hand with his… because he was human, and it was okay to want someone you shouldn’t if nobody saw.

She chose a picnic table by a street light in the small park, and sat with her feet up on the bench. She patted the wood next to her, and Bucky followed suit.

The silence stretched. He stared at the basketball court, with its orange hoop rings dangling like they’d been swung from one too many times. The woman beside him leaned back on her hands.

“You left your socks,” she said simply.

“Didn’t even put my shoes back on. Drove home barefoot,” he said. “I don’t know how I didn’t wreck.”

She sighed. “You could’ve stayed, Barnes. James–god, that’s weird. I don’t think I’ve ever said your first name before.”

The corner of his mouth turns up. “‘S not what people usually call me.”

“Right,” she said. “Bucky, yeah? Wilson called you that during the faculty basketball game.”

“You went?” he scoffed. “I was lucky they didn’t make me play the whole time.”

“You’re really bad.” She laughed, and Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It wasn’t about skill.”

“Clearly.”

Bucky glanced at her. She smiled at him. Before he could think better of it, he brushed her cheek as if he might never get another opportunity. He blew out a slow breath as her skin filled his palm. She leaned into the touch, grasping his wrist.

“I’ve never, ever put myself in jeopardy like this,” he said. “Plenty of girls in my class have batted their eyelashes at me, but–” he shrugged. “Never felt anything except annoyance. And then… you. I’m screwed up about it, doll, you have every right to be pissed–”

“Slow down,” she said. She laced their fingers. “Let’s back up, I’m–I was angry, but I’m not anymore. I’m confused.”

Bucky gulped. “Um. I left, and I didn’t tell you.”

“Yeah.”

He clutched her hand against his knee. “I don’t do that kinda thing. Never. I mean, I’ve done it before but with women I dated, who were totally outside the campus community. They were short-lived–not even relationships. I…”

“You freaked.”

“Do you blame me?” Bucky groaned. “You’re in my class!”

“I didn’t plan it–”

“I’m not blaming you. For me to do that, with my own grad student, stone-cold sober. Thank god neither of us were drunk.”

She let out a long breath. “I didn’t think about it once.”

“No,” Bucky agreed.

“It doesn’t make it better, I realize. But for once in my life… I didn’t rationalize my way out of something that felt good. Kissing you didn’t bring me to my senses, either.”

“Hmm.”

“Was it… did you hate it–?”

“No. Far from it.”

“Then what?”

He couldn’t make the fear in his chest manifest into words, so he tapped the envelope which peeked out of her coat pocket and stood, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Despite the impulse to run, he remained at her feet. Waiting for her to see the declaration he wrote and rewrote a million times. She opened it.

She read it under her breath. Bucky held his. Every second which lapsed without her speaking was agonizing, but he dug his heels in. She deserved that much.

He didn’t hear her scoot off the table, so when her hands came up to cradle his face, he jumped.

“You are punishing me, too,” she whispered. “Maybe we should’ve thought about it. I own that. But why is the only option never speaking to or seeing me again? Huh?”

Bucky tugged out of her grasp. “Do you know what the university would do? You might be barred from defending your thesis, or have it blocked from publication, or get expelled–”

“Who am I going to tell?”

He threw his hands in the air. “Your friends! I don’t know!”

“Barnes–I don’t have a circle, here! My best friend lives in Alaska with her wife who works on a fishing boat, and my parents have never heard a detail about my personal life because the entire population of their neighborhood would know in an INSTANT. Unless YOU were planning on telling the Dean, I sure wasn’t!”

“What if photos of us pop up?”

“At my symposium? You’re my mentor–it makes sense for you to be there!” Her protests echoed off the cement court. “I didn’t invite anyone else!”

“You didn’t? There were a lot of people.”

“The whole city of Amherst shows up for this workshop, it’s a big deal! I didn’t know anybody but you and the other poetry fellows.”

“You kissed me.”

“In a cab!”

Bucky put his fists on his hips. “You snuck me into student housing.”

She poked him in the chest. “Seemed more appropriate than straddling you in the back of a taxi!” Bucky opened his mouth to say more but she clamped her hand over his mouth. “You didn’t resign a tenured teaching position to protect me, so why the hell did you do it?” When she pulled her hand away, she lingered toe-to-toe with him.

Bucky let his head fall back in frustration.

“I’m a shell, doll,” he started. “My ma passed away last year. Should’ve taken a sabbatical. But I pushed through to keep myself busy.” Bucky hazarded a glance at her. She said nothing, but motioned for him to continue.

“We were a real close family. My sisters are still devastated. If my father hadn’t gone a few summers ago, this would’ve sent him. I’m hollow, doll. Most days I can’t feel a thing.”

“Easier sometimes,” she murmured.

“No. God, it’s miserable. I get addicted to anything that makes me less numb.” Bucky fixed her with a glare. “Then… you asked me to be your advisor. All of a sudden, I looked forward to getting out of bed. Figured I was finally pushing through grief, or something. But I’d go home after meeting with you… empty. I didn’t put it together until you were asleep on my chest.”

She pressed her lips in a thin line. “You think you’re gonna forget her. If you’re happy again.”

Bucky looked away. “I already had, before she died. I never saw her. She lived five blocks from this park, doll, and I didn’t visit. I took it for granted that she would always be there when things slowed down for me.”

“So, when you took me on as an advisor…”

“Did it to fill up my free time. She asked me every time I saw her when I was gonna have the family I’ve always wanted, and I couldn’t stand to look her in the eye and say I wasn’t trying anymore. Doll–I hate teaching, but I stuck with it because she was so proud of me. She had my book on her bedside table.”

“So do I.” The woman clasped his elbow with a sad smile. “You still would’ve made her proud if you told her you wanted something else. Prouder, still, if you let someone in. Whether or not that someone is Me.”

Bucky’s arms floated upwards, and tentatively hovered at her waist. “With what? What do I have to offer right now?”

“I dunno–”

“Oh, great,” he scoffed.

“No! You’re so smart, but you’re an idiot.” She stood on her tip-toes to level her eyes with his. “You made me feel incredible. Did I return the favor?”

Bucky flushed. “...more than.”

“That’s enough. Doesn’t have to be complicated. You’re a human being–we go through shit times, and it doesn’t make us unworthy of something good.”

“Doll, I did resign because of you, but I didn’t do it to lash out at you. Or because I slept with you–even though it was the ethical thing to do.” Bucky sat with a heavy sigh. “I did it… because you’ve worked so hard. Your thesis work is stunning–those poems are no exception. I have never been as passionate about anything the way you are about words. You made me think there could be something like that, for me.”

“Wow,” she breathed. “When was the last time you did something for yourself?”

Bucky snorted. “Enlisted for Dad. Got out, went to grad school for Ma. Here I am.”

“I forgot you were in the Army.”

“Not something I advertise, doll.”

“No, but I’ve looked at the company photo in your office a million times,” she said. “How’d you get out?”

“Honorable discharge.”

“For?”

“Throwing myself on a grenade.”

“A habit of yours.” She let her head fall against his shoulder. Bucky remained stiff and upright, but he let a sense of warmth at the affectionate position fill him. He almost missed her next words because he was so focused on the sensation of her against his side.

“I don’t want to lose you,” she said.

“Why?” Bucky couldn’t prevent the question from slipping out. She turned her face so they were nose-to-nose.

“Because I love poetry, but it means nothing if the subject isn’t part of my life. Every poem I write, every goddamn word. They’re about you.”

The sentiment jump-started his heart. It had pumped once a day since his mother died–enough to keep his blood flowing. But with that admission, she renewed him. He scanned over her expression for any sign of hesitation.

“May I?” His breath tickled her lips.

She smoothed her hands over the front of his coat. “As much as I want you to, it’s late. I can’t be sure if this is exhaustion, or whiskey, or Bucky. I–” She stopped to touch his jaw. “I can’t kiss you and wake up to nothing, tomorrow. But in the light of day, if you still want to…” Her thumb worried his shallow dimple as she trailed off. Her eyes flicked back and forth, searching to make sure they were on the same page.

Bucky swallowed hard. “I understand.”

“You can give me your number.” She fished her cell phone out of her back pocket and unlocked it so he could type his number in. He did so, and when she presented her cheek… Bucky leaned down and brushed his mouth against her skin. She giggled when he dithered a hare’s breath from her lips.

“I’ll text you, so you have mine,” she said softly.

“I, um.” He swiped his thumb over his bottom lip. “I have to clean out my office this weekend.”

“...do you want help?”

He smiled. “Yeah.”

“I can move my schedule around. Make some time for you.” She nudged his arm, and then tucked the nearly-forgotten envelope into her pocket. “Call me?” She turned, swinging her bag over one shoulder.

“Hey, doll–”

She stopped, peering back at him.

“I didn’t say it at your symposium, but I’m proud of you.”

She straightened, and her mouth twisted like she was trying not to cry. “Thanks, Professor.”

Bucky watched her walk away in the direction of the nearest train station until she disappeared into the shadows. His phone vibrated in his pocket. A text from an unknown number.

I’m proud of you too.

Bucky stared at those five liberating words. He didn’t reply, but about two minutes later, another text arrived from the same number.

Howlers is hiring. Barback. 12/hr plus tips. Ask Mike.

–

She waited in the shadow of a tree at the end of a block, and watched his mouth turn up in a smile as he read her second message. Walking away after he asked to kiss her had been nearly impossible; the hairs on her body stood up, craving the deepest level of intimacy they had shared before, but if he wanted to make things right, he needed to do it for himself.

Still, it was something to hang her hope on. More than a cryptic note, or no words at all.

Her phone chimed.

BUCKY: thank you doll BUCKY: i really did miss you

–

you will do better the less you have of me

but I will waste and waste like something unheavenly.

what feeds you might bleed me but

mete out my punishment gently.

Part 2

– – – – –

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espinosaurusrexex · 9 months

Text

Revision

Professor!SteveRogers x Student!Female!Reader AU

summary: Professor Rogers was a lot of things, but for you, he was even more. A secret affair? A fun little side thing? You didn’t know yet. But you'd gladly seek out every possible moment with him until you did.

a/n: once upon a time I had a crush on my professor… this is what came out of it (don’t worry it didn’t really happen) but shame on me for keeping this in the drafts for so long

thank you @sebsgirl71479 for finding this gif and also very special thanks to @urcatslitterbox for taking the time and making one herself! you are the greatest!

word count: 3.3k

warnings: age gap (reader is of legal age of course), student/teacher relationship, a little fluff (because apparently I can’t do it without) this is obviously smut (dry humping, praise kink, unprotected p in v - wrap it before you tap it guys, slight overstimulation, voyeurism - if you squint), I don't know what else to tell you !MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ✶ 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐎𝟑 ✧*･ﾟ

“Do you know why I asked you to stay, Ms. Y/L/N?” His arms crossed before his chest as his gaze followed the last students roaming amongst the rows of the vast lecture hall, a blonde strand of hair falling loose and settling in a soft curve over his eye. Professor Rogers looked intimidating, but so damn sexy as well. His biceps bulged beneath the checkered white and blue button-up, his sleeves halfway rolled up, restrained by his evenly muscular forearms.

“To be perfectly honest, Professor,” Your voice stayed even, a slight mockery undertone by the use of formality when you had called him far more personal things than that before. Steve, Stevie, Daddy... you shook out of it - there were still people here. “I don’t. I was quite confident that my assignment was to your... satisfaction.” A smug grin hid behind the last word, as you remembered the actual satisfaction that assignment had brought you as well.

Steve had to hide his smile, too. His eyes darted with amusement when he tilted his head forward to peer up at you through his thick lashes. Your eyes wandered to his legs. His tan chinos were tight on his muscular thighs and the way he leaned back with his knees spread even wider - holy mother of god.

He knew damn well how hot he was, and the annoying thing was that he also knew how to make it work for him. Steve reveled in the power his body language had over you.

He watched as your tights clenched together behind his desk. The simple movement of his fingers on a desk could make you keen thinking about the places they had done that before. His confidence seeped though every fucking vein in his body, dripping in thick undertones and slight remarks out of his mouth and invading your senses through his touch and smell.

He was to die for. Tall, muscular, charming, and older.

You looked him up and down again and as his head tilted to the side you knew exactly that he could read your every thought. His arms opened when the door closed behind the last student, one hand gliding to his inner thigh while the other motioned for you to step closer.

You did.

It was like an automatic response of your body. Though you leaned forwards on the wooden desk, your arms pushing inward to help the cleavage peeking through the collar of your top, Steve’s eyes pulled down in an instant as well.

“It certainly was.” He rubbed his beard. “I just thought it would be beneficial to go over it once more, highlight the good parts and make sure you know what made them so... enticing.” He leaned forward now, his fingers brushing yours on the sleek surface of the polished wood, though his eyes remained on your breasts. Steve wet his lips before his eyes flicked up to yours again. “I’m willing to thoroughly talk you through the rougher bits as well.”

“Are you implying they weren’t all good?”

“Oh, they were good, just not as good as other parts.”

It was a game. You knew that, and Steve knew that too. But the little role-playing brought an excitement to this ordeal that couldn’t be denied by either of you. He was like a magnet and your entire body felt like it was made of metal with the pull he had on you. You stood on your toes, pushing yourself further over the table, where Steve stayed entirely still. He was observing you, though. The slight intrigue in the twig of his brow when your lips came dangerously close to his. A fast glint to the double doors leading to the hallways full of students rushing to their next classes. There was no nervousness in his stare though. Steve actually liked the potential threat of getting caught. It spurred him on, enticed him, and turned him on beyond belief. You had learned that just the other week when he had dragged you behind the open door to the janitor's closet of the history building. He had absolutely no shame in getting his hands dirty while all the students walked past the dark room where Steve had his hand firmly pressed above your mouth as his other relentlessly plunged in and out of your wet cunt.

“Huh.” You pushed back. And even though the muscular blonde on the other side of the desk tried not to react, you caught his shoulder slouch in disappointment. You liked playing tough, though. While his perfume worked hard to pull you back into him, your feet shuffled a little further back, looking him up and down again. His legs were still manspreading on the chair and damn did those thighs look inviting. You knew they were.

The clock above the double door clicked louder now that the students outside had passed on to their next classes. You had one, too actually. But the professor was boring as hell and who wouldn’t trade a creepy scarf-wearing weirdo for this specimen of a man in front of you right now? Exactly: no one. But they didn’t have that chance. Steve had chosen you, reserved his glances and touches, and kissed for you and it was exciting. Getting to share his experiences, letting the older man take control of your body in such rough yet gentle ways.

Your legs strode around the desk as Steve’s eyes followed you through the room. His arms had reached out to you once you were close enough for him to grab and once his index finger looped in the belt loops of your jeans, he pulled you onto his lap. As your hands wandered to his shoulders, his snook around your waist, his thumb gently stroking the skin beneath your top. A shiver ran through you when he leaned back, his icy blue orbs piercing the air as they focused on yours, a small smile twinkling in the corner of his mouth.

“You look good.” You whispered, a hand smoothing over the collar. Steve’s lips escaped a laugh, and even though the sexual tension you build up with the sneaky conversation still lingered in the air, there was a softer, sweeter sound invading the atmosphere right this moment.

“I know you like the blue.” He mumbled when he dipped forward, his nose brushed your neck and a trial of goosebumps traveled down your back. The rasp in his voice stirred something in your stomach, a slight tingle shooting up to your brain and telling you ‘hey that’s hot!’ In bright and blaring neon lights.

Steve’s fingers ran down your legs and began massaging your thighs on each side of him. Another strand of hair came loose and fell forward. It tickled your neck as his mouth began to suck its way up to your sweet spot, your hands frantically cramming his shirt at the sudden attack. His tongue shot forward, soothing the place his teeth just nibbled on and the familiar burn ran over your skin as hisses and moans mixed in your mouth. Your hips jolted forward when he finally reached that spot behind your ear, hot breath blowing over the wet skin and a soft kiss right after.

“You smell...” A growl broke through his speech when your hips ground a second time. “So sweet...”

A jolt of confidence placed a grin on your lips. The perfume you wore had turned some heads before, but the only one that mattered was Steve’s. His mouth resumed his caress of your skin as his hand wandered to your ass, slowly pushing you forward and guiding you over the growing bulge beneath his pants.

“Ah, yes!” It was only a breath out when the seam of your jeans was pushed into your clit by the hardness in his lap, but - God did that feel good! Your back arched when he continuously ripped you over the spot, your hands buried in his hair, pressing him deeper into your skin, encouraging him to keep going.

“Goddamn...” His head switched to the other side of your neck, the skin on the neglected one already hot and tingly. But your sole focus lay between your legs, where his cock massaged your clit in perfectly firm rocking motions. The roughness of the jeans just added to the pleasure creeping through your body.

You could’ve gone like this forever, with the heat rising in your belly and Steve’s muffled panting lingering in the air, but Steve pulled away. A whine brushed over to him when his lips left your skin. You were burning from his touch but at the same time, a cool brush of goosebumps covered your body. It was crazy how much you craved his touch even when he was sitting right in front of you. His stare alone lit a fire within your stomach, butterflies flying wild patterns through every nerve ending when his light blue eyes found yours in the distance of the lecture hall. It had happened suddenly and spiraled beyond your control within days. And then, when he had finally kissed you, it was pretty clear that there was no going back. Steve was like a drug. Something you shouldn’t play with and something that was definitely illegal to pursue, but so so so freaking good because he made you feel things you could have never imagined.

His voice pulled you back to reality.

“As much as I like your ass in those jeans...” Steve tugged on your Jeans with dark eyes, the silver button glimmered in the lecture hall light when his rough fingers yanked on the material. “They need to go.” That last part was just a growl in your ear but the tire of it made you eagerly wiggle out of the blue denim.

You stepped out of your jeans once he had finally opened them and when his eyes fell on the underwear covering your heat, he pulled you closer by your hips. His thumbs drove circles over your skin, sending yet another tingle of excitement up your spine. His hands wandered back to your behind, squeezing and needing the flesh all while pressing you into his front.

Your lips attached to his neck like a magnet, your hand scraping the gruff on his chin with excited circles. A growl traveled past his lips when you reached his sweet spot - the one right beneath his ear, making him melt every time. A deviant smile spread about your face but before you could revel in the control you had over him - even if it was just for a short moment - he had you turned around, facing the rows of desks stretching to the walls.

“You’ve been doing this on purpose, haven’t you?” His hand wandered past your breasts down your front and stopped right by the edges of your panties, the other holding you by the hip, pressing his hard-on right to your back. The excitement shooting through you did nothing to hide, slick pooling between your legs, and your nipples already hard pebbles on your skin. “Putting on these scandalous little lace things thinking about how I’ll be seeing them today...” Warm breath tingled at your ear when he leaned closer, pushing his hand past the hem of the lace. “...taking them off of your perfect body.”

You moaned when his fingers slit past your folds, gathering some slick to smoothly roam about your clit.

“Maybe...” The shivers erupting from his touch interrupted your speech until you could collect yourself. “I’m always thinking of you, Stevie.” He bit your neck before his tongue smoothed over the spot again. It was a perfect interplay of pleasure and pain, the wet warm strokes of his tongue soothing the stinging and adding fuel to a desire only he could evoke in you.

“Say it again,” he growled, adding more pressure to the swollen bundle of nerves between your legs. You squirmed as the muscles in your abdomen tightened, clenching around nothing and reminding you what you had been missing. “What else are you thinking about?”

“Your hands all over my body...” Your hand guided his over to your breasts encouraging him to squeeze the soft flesh and breathing heavily when his thumb brushed over your hardened nipple. “Pushing me to bend over that desk while you fill me up with your big cock.”

“Nothing I’d rather do, doll.” Before you knew it your face was gently pressed against the cold and polished wood. Warm hands wandered to your ass where they pulled down your underwear painfully slow, having you fiddle in place impatiently.

“Now, don’t be so hasty, love. I gotta take my time.” You heard his belt unbuckle.

“Unfortunately, Professor, time is the one thing we do not have a lot of...” His hands stopped moving as you called him ‘Professor’, though you knew it wasn’t a bad thing. If anything, it probably turned him on more, which would hopefully speed up the process of him finally filling you up to the brim. Your pussy clenched at the thought of it again - a frustrating reminder of the emptiness you so wished to disappear.

“Too bad, I would have loved to play with you a little more.”

“Tick Tock...”

“As you wish, princess-” And before the words had even reached your ears, you felt his swollen tip nudge at your entrance, stroking up and down your slit to cover in your arousal as a sinful sound escaped Steve’s lips.

His hands found their way back to your waist before he finally pushed fully into you, leaving you no time to adjust to his size as he started pounding into you with an unrelenting pace. The burn wasn’t painful though. You knew he was big, and even though you had not believed that he would ever fit inside of you, Steve had managed to not only do that but also ruin you for every other man to ever come.

“Look at your greedy little cunt begging for my cock, practically sucking me in, doll.”

You couldn’t answer, too focused on holding onto the desk and controlling your body not to melt with his strokes as he pushed into you over and over again.

“Gripping me so tight... perfect little pussy.” A slap landed on your ass cheek to which you responded with another loud moan. If there had been a care for anyone to hear you doing the indescribable in this lecture hall before, Steve had certainly fucked it out of you by now. You turned your head watching as he spit down on his cock before it disappeared in you again, his head falling back with shut eyes while he reveled in every piece of pleasure you gave him.

“Fuck!” He locked eyes with you, a determined smirk painting his face when his hand wandered around your body again, finding your clit and rubbing tight little circles over the nub.

Your vision blurred as the hot pleasure crept up your spine. There was something about Steve’s touch that made you feel as though every nerve in your body fired twice and fast. You clenched around him again, watching with pleasure as his brows furrowed.

He picked up his pace, kicking your legs further apart and hitting an even deeper angle now.

“Oh my god!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head before you closed them, trying to last longer than this. The feeling was just too good to let go of so soon. But with Steve’s hunky body towering over you and his cock stroking just the right spot with every moan he pulled from you, that seemed like an impossible task. You tried your best, though, but right when you thought that you would last a little longer, his fingers changed the direction of the circles on your clit and turned your brain to mush.

“I’m gonna- ah”

“The hell you are.” He pulled away, leaving you to whimper with the empty feeling you had never wanted back. But Steve pulled you up and turned you around in one swift motion, walking forward until you were pressed against the desk again. This time, though, he made you lay on your back with a hazy smile.

“I wanna see your pretty face when you come all over my cock.” He placed your legs on his shoulders and grabbed his dick to line it up with your entrance again. Then, he made sure to keep eye contact while he pushed himself into you once again, but this time, painfully slow.

You gripped him tight when he bottomed out, stroking the flesh on your thigh while he pulled back just to pound back in again.

“I fucking love this pussy,” he growled as his pace picked up much to your delight, “it’s mine. Tell me, baby.”

“Yes. Yes, it’s all yours, Stevie.” You couldn’t even focus on the words leaving your mouth at this point. You would say yes to anything he said just to make the feeling of his cock stroking your walls last forever.

“That’s a what?” He halted, raised eyebrows watching you expectantly.

“Yes, sir,” you smirked.

“Good girl.” The pressure built up again and when his hand found its way back to your clit, you felt like exploding. His pace didn’t falter, determination taking over while he watched himself slip in and out of you with hungry eyes.

You would be busting in seconds if he kept it up like this, your walls clenching tighter and tighter, your stomach feeling rock solid from the pleasure building up with every circle of his thumb and every stroke of his cock.

“Don’t hold back now, sweetheart. Let go. Give it to me.”

That was all it took for the knot to finally come loose. “Ah!” Your back arched off the table while your hands frantically searched for something to grip, the walls of your pussy fluttering and making your core be on fire with pleasure. It just intensified when Steve slowed his strokes to let you ride on the wave of bliss that made your body tingle.

When you relaxed again, you felt your walls pulsing with lazy delight. A weak smile shining through your hooded eyes when you watched him intensify his strokes again. Shaky whimpers left your throat when his cock brushed over your sensitive parts. He was close, too. You could feel him twitching inside of you, waiting for the perfect moment to let go. And you would give him just that.

“You make me feel so good, sir. Your big cock stretches me out, fills me up. I want you to come inside of me.”

“Fuck, keep going.” He closed his eyes, speeding up his movements and making the pressure build right up for you again.

“You’re so big. I can feel you in my stomach, baby. Make me come by just thinking about you. So sexy and strong and- ah oh!”

Steve’s movements staggered his cock twitching as his face contorted into pleasure while you felt his cum spill inside of you. The scene was erotic, and the sounds coming from the man above of you made you reach another orgasm, milking the last drop from him with every pulse of your walls.

Your chest heaved as you leaned your head back, watching the clock above the door. It was too sad this moment was ending.

Though Steve took his time. He watched his juices drip after he pulled out, whispering a low ‘perfect’ into the room that made your head feel hot.

How was this man making you flustered after shamelessly rearranging your guts in a public lecture hall?

“Put your jeans back on, doll. I don’t wanna get in trouble today.” He winked at you while he zipped up his pants and secured the buckle on top. You stood, fixing his slightly tossed hair and leaving your hand hovering over his jaw.

“Where’d you put my panties?” He kissed you.

“I think I’m gonna keep these,” Steve smiled while stuffing them into his back pocket.

“For revision, I presume?” You smiled with wicked eyes.

“Exactly.”

Here it is - finally! Please tell me what you think (hopefully it was worth the wait)! I've missed you guys so much; life is keeping me busy and excited for more. How have you been?? 💛

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nickfowlerrr · 1 year

Note

This picture has ruined me. Now I need a fic with Bucky as your professor banging you in the library during regular hours.

clear your mind

pairing: professor!bucky barnes x curvy!reader

words: 7.5k

warnings: 18+ ONLY. smut. public sex. cockwarming. student/teacher relations. possible age gap depending on how you read it (reader is at least 25 or older but it’s not really specified and bucky is late 30s or older but again, not specified. imagine whatever you like.) i added an alternate kind of darkish ending that is separated with a divider near the end (duh) but of course you can choose to not read it and stick to the original cute ending lol. if i’m missing anything you feel needs to be added, please let me know.

notes: disclaimer: i never technically went to college so i don’t really know what i’m writing about lmao but when i say this was instant inspo, i mean instant. i’ve been in such a funk since i lost chapter four of keeping secrets, but this really ignited something in me so i just went for it. it was originally gonna be a little smutty drabble but then i started writing and it just became a whole one shot - not that i’m complaining lol. this was so fun to write, thank you @sammyisfat for sending it in! 🖤 i hope you all enjoy it! as always, feedback and comments are welcome and appreciated. and thank you in advance for reading and reblogging!

You were sitting hunched over, eyes scanning the same sentence repeatedly, trying to force yourself to focus. You were reading the words but you weren’t really putting them together. You were too bored to make them make sense. Your brain was far off and you were sure you were about to burn out completely at this point.

Why you thought going back to school after so long was a good idea was beyond you. Was the degree really worth it? You’d gotten this far without one, hadn’t you?

As you were contemplating your life choices, and working on convincing yourself to just screw it and drop out, you’d failed to notice the presence of two of your professors passing by.

You had been alone at the far back of the library, closed in by the sturdy cases of books around you, for so long you’d nearly forgotten you were actually there. You had needed solitude, lest the chatter of other students in study groups or working on projects distract you further than your mind already did on its own. Your back was to the open aisle so as not to get distracted by anyone passing by, either. The zone you were occupying was normally a hot spot, but on a Wednesday afternoon, not so much. And for that you were grateful.

The knock on the bookcase next to you accompanied by your name being called, almost in question, startled you as you quickly corrected your posture and looked toward the noise, adjusting the glasses you were wearing as you did. You were greeted with two pairs of blue eyes looking back at you. Standing next to the bookcase, waiting for your response were two of the most lusted after professors on campus. And that wasn’t just you thinking so. The way students fawned over both Mr. Barber and Barnes was near juvenile. They were like kids gossiping about their crushes in elementary school. It was always funny to you seeing the line of people waiting to speak with Andy at the end of class every Wednesday and Friday, whether they had a genuine question to ask or not. You couldn’t say you didn’t get it, though. He had great hair, a soft smile, kind eyes.. He was gorgeous. It was clear why so many people had a thing for him. But you always found yourself a little more than preoccupied with thoughts of Mr. Barnes. Though they were both at least six foot tall and unfairly attractive, easy enough to spread your attention between both of them, as most of their students did, there was just something about James that had you in a hold since the first day you met him.

It was your first day on campus and you’d accidentally bumped into him with your green tea as you were leaving the small corner cafe after your first morning class. You apologized profusely, but he’d claimed it was his fault, that he wasn’t watching where he was going. He insisted on buying you a new drink as he removed his tea damp jacket. You didn’t fight him on it, walking back into the cafe as he held the door for you. You introduced yourselves as you waited for the drinks to be made and spoke a bit. It wasn’t a super long interaction, both of you having places you had to be, but you would have sworn there was something there. And the glimmer in his eye as he smiled and told you he’d see you around convinced you it wasn’t one sided. You were instantly smitten, hopeful you would see him again, that maybe it could lead to getting to know him better, lead to something more.

That was until you walked into your afternoon class the next day to find him standing at a podium, setting up his orientation slides. You had been hoping all day to run into him, but this was certainly not how you’d been imagining the circumstances. Of course he was your professor. You breathed a humorless laugh to yourself as you found a seat. You got your laptop out and looked back up at the same time he looked up from his, making direct eye contact with him. You saw the instant he recognized you and gave him a tight lipped smile that he returned before you diverted your gaze back down. His look of disappointment matched your own, but at the very least, it made you feel wanted.. The “professor x student” trope was never really your cup of tea, but as the weeks went by, the stolen glances and secret longing stares you exchanged were starting to change your mind. After one particular heated night of self pleasure, absentmindedly picturing him while you were reveling in your own touch, imagining it was his, you knew you were really gone for him. And heaven help you, the idea of it really happening was growing hotter and hotter the more you told yourself you couldn’t. Imagining showing up to his office hours one evening and just letting him have you any way he liked. Letting him take you apart on his desk, or sucking him off under his desk while he works. God, you’d daydreamed so many scenarios.

You just couldn’t bring yourself to act on any of it. You didn’t know how to. More importantly, you knew you shouldn’t. It wasn’t like you were some barely legal star eyed student he’d be taking advantage of, but still, you were his student. You weren’t sure how that dynamic might play out or the optics of it for either of you. Instead you willed yourself to stay focused on the work, to keep your thoughts set on passing the course and that was all.

Even when you would find yourself needing actual help from him or needing to ask him about an assignment, you would always talk yourself out of it. You didn’t want to let yourself be alone with him, you couldn’t be trusted. You were worried you’d make a fool of yourself the second you got the chance. So instead, you’d get help from a classmate if you could or you’d end up just winging it. It had been working that far.

The real problem started just last week. This most recent section was challenging to say the least. You had tried the study group offered on Monday nights, but you got absolutely nothing done.

Your last essay assignment had been returned to you on Friday with a note on it, asking you to come by his office hours before the next class. You had been putting it off all week, but knew you’d have to go by Thursday. You just weren’t expecting to see him around any earlier than that.

“Professors,” you greeted, slightly taken aback.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Mr. Barber apologized. “Thought you might’ve heard us walking up.”

“I was uh, lost in the text, I guess,” you replied, giving them an awkward smile.

“Well, I’m glad someone’s reading it,” he laughed.

“Do you mind if we join you?” he continued, motioning to the otherwise empty table you were sitting at the end of. It was big enough to seat at least 8 people easily and it’d, of course, be rude of you to try and keep it for yourself. But what would they need to be in the library for anyway? The question must have been written on your face as Mr. Barnes answered it for you.

“The heat isn’t working in our offices. We’re just grading some work.”

“Right, yeah, of course. Go for it.”

“Thank you,” Andy smiled.

They took seats at the other end of the table, surely trying to avoid distracting you. You appreciated the gesture, but it was futile. As they worked on grading papers, they were talking and laughing every so often and even if they hadn’t been, their presence alone was not at all aiding you in your attempt to focus on schoolwork.

You’d given up trying to finish the passage you’d been reading and instead pretended to start making notes in your laptop. In all actuality, you were really just googling alternative career paths and the question: “Do you really need a college degree to be successful?”.

Thirty minutes later, Andy’s phone went off and he began to gather his things, telling Mr. Barnes, who he called ‘Bucky’, that he had a lecture in 45 minutes but he’d see him later.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Andy pointed at you as he passed by.

“Bright and early,” you affirmed with a nod and a small smile.

“Have a good night,” he smiled back.

“You too,” you returned.

The second he was gone, you became fully aware that you were now alone with Professor Barnes, the situation you’d been trying to avoid for the past almost three months. Despite your efforts, your entire focus was being pulled to the man just down the table from you. He was still grading, in the middle of someone’s essay as you glanced over to him. You admired the quirk of his brow as he read and how his tongue jutted out to lick his lip as his eyes scanned the words on the page. You pulled your gaze away from him and back to your laptop, deciding to close it and put it away, begrudgingly returning to your textbook. Just one more hour. You had promised yourself 2 hours of studying today minimum, you were halfway there. You could do it.

Not ten minutes later you heard the flipping of paper and glanced over to see he’d just finished the paper he was on, writing the grade on top of the first page. You looked back to your text just as he slid the paper down the table to you. You furrowed your brows as you watched it slide into your book. You saw the “C-” he had given it circled in red ink and immediately recognized the title. Your lips parted and you clicked your tongue as you looked back up to meet his eye.

“Anyone else that would’ve been a D,” he told you, sounding slightly disappointed. “Your work is normally a lot better than what you’ve been turning in lately. That’s why I asked you to come by my office hours.”

“Yeah, I- uh. I don’t know, I’ve just been having a hard time with this section,” you explained. “And I wasn’t ignoring your note, I was planning to see you on Thursday.”

“Well, we’re both here now, right?” he said and you nodded.

“Good a time as any,” you shrugged.

He got up and moved his stuff down the table to take the seat next to you. You closed your textbook and straightened up in your chair. Nerves eating at you as he sat and turned to angle himself towards you.

“My main concern isn’t really about you understanding the materials, all the concepts are there in your work, it's just..lackluster. Sloppily written, a bit jumbled here and there. Nothing like what you had been turning in at the start of the semester,” he said. “Are you sure it’s the section you’re having a hard time with?”

You looked at him for a moment, not really knowing what to say.

“What else would I be having a hard time with?” you questioned quietly.

It was his turn to look at you for a moment as he thought about how to word his response. He opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it before he finally spoke.

“You’ve seemed more and more distracted during class lately. I just want to make sure you’re okay,” he said sincerely, his blue eyes gleaming into yours. He was already close, but you suddenly found yourself mindlessly leaning closer to him. You took a breath as you sat back, licking your lips ever so lightly without realizing as you looked away.

“I’m okay,” you told him. “Sorry I’ve seemed distracted. Well, uhm, been distracted. I don’t know why I’ve been having such a hard time focusing on this,” you lied, “but I appreciate your concern. I’ll work on being more present. And putting more effort into my writing.”

He smiled softly and nodded before he turned back in his seat, returning to his pile of papers.

You bit your lip as you sat there. Of course you knew why you were so distracted, but you couldn’t just tell him it was because of him.

“You know there’s a study group you can sign up for,” he said as he was still looking down, reading the new paper in front of him, red pen in hand.

“Yeah, I know. I just, uh, work better in smaller groups,”

“Alone isn’t exactly a group,” he lightly smirked with a slight tilt of his head.

“I’ve never really had the best focus when it comes to studying, anything. I get off topic and then I get everyone else off topic and then we end up having spent the entire session debating something trivial, like who the best Batman is,” you said.

“Christian Bale,” he responded.

“Obviously,” you agreed with a smile. “But uhm, yeah. Less distractions the better, so I try to avoid big groups. Though I’ll admit, just trying to stay focused on my own is a feat in and of itself,” you laughed lightly.

“Sounds like you just need someone other than yourself to hold you accountable. Have you thought about one on ones? I offer tutoring sessions that no one seems to want to take me up on,” he laughed. “I have three one hour sessions all still open for tonight, actually.. Not that you need tutoring, but you could use the time to work on your assignments without distractions - and I'd be there, of course, if you need any help.”

You told yourself to say no. You really did..

“Well it couldn’t hurt, right?” you breathed, a small smile on your lips. Just then the clock chimed three, drawing both of your attention.

“I have a class in twenty, I have to get going. But I’ll be in my office from five to eight, you can come whenever. Like I said, no one else has signed up, so whenever you can make it. Hopefully the heat should be working by then.”

“Okay,” you agreed. “Thank you, Professor.”

“Please, James is more than fine,” he told you. “I’ll see you later.”

When he left, you packed up your things - letting yourself off the hook for your two hour promise. You were gonna be studying later now, anyway so it wasn’t like you just checking out for the day. Your apartment wasn’t too far from campus, so you drove home and decided you’d head back around 6.

You made yourself a late lunch/early dinner and then got your things together for when you’d leave. You figured you had time for a quick nap, so you laid down on the couch with the tv still playing in the background. After about 45 minutes, you woke up feeling more flustered than you had felt all week. You were starting to regret your quick agreement to his one on one offer, but you couldn’t just not show up now. You were getting yourself worked up over nothing, you were sure. Really what could you do that would be so bad? It’s not like you were planning on seducing the man. You’d probably just ask him to review the essay you’d been working on that would be turned in at the next class and ask for clarification on the requirements for the part of your midterm paper you’d been confused about for the past two weeks. You probably wouldn’t even stay the whole hour.

Checking the time, you decided to head back to campus. You’d get to his office a little after 5 and you’d be home by 6:30 at the latest. It’d be fine.

As you walked up to the sturdy oak door that led to his office, two cups of coffee in hand, your nerves started anew. You took a second before you knocked lightly. A few moments later, the door was pulled open as he greeted you, ushering you in.

“I got you a coffee,” you offered with a smile.

“That’s very much needed, thank you,” he smiled back, taking the drink you’d extended to him. “Please, have a seat.”

You took the only chair across from his desk as he sat.

“So, I was wondering if you’d be able to go over my essay for this week. See if it’s missing anything, or if it needs to be rewritten entirely,” you laughed nervously.

“Yeah, of course,”

“Great,” you breathed, “I just emailed you a copy.”

He pulled it open on his screen and you watched for a moment as he began reading before you pulled out your laptop to work more on your midterm. You couldn’t focus though. Not with him right across from you. The little noises he’d make as he read caught your attention repeatedly and when you’d glance up, you’d find yourself admiring the shape of his face, the quirk of his lips, the squinting of his eyes.

“The whole point of this is so that you have no distractions,” he said as he continued reading before turning to look at you. “Something distracting you?” he asked, his eyes finding your own with something akin to a playful glimmer shining in them.

You opened your mouth to speak but you just shook your head instead, taking a steadying breath.

“No,” you answered after a second. He looked at you hard.

“You sure about that?” he asked again.

“No,” you repeated softly.

“Well since you can’t seem to focus on what you’re working on, why don’t you come over here and we’ll go over this together.”

You stared at him, gawking before your body finally moved. You stood up and he did the same, pulling his chair back for you to sit in as you rounded the desk. He pushed you back in and then leaned down behind you so he was at the same height you were, looking at the screen.

You were stiff and you felt like you couldn’t breathe. He was so close. And he smelled so good. And he was so pretty. God, you didn’t know what to do. You really couldn’t focus, even as he read your words aloud and went over a line you’d blubbed.

“Are you listening to me?” he asked, standing to his full height as he spun the chair around, looking down at you. Your eyes immediately landed on his crotch before you quickly looked away, trying to not look so flustered.

“Sorry,” you eked out.

“It’s obvious you have something on your mind. You’re clearly distracted,” he said, finding your eye. “I think you just need to clear your head to find your focus.”

“Right, well, I don’t really know how to do that,” you breathed.

“Why don’t you let me try to help,” he returned softly as he leaned down and grabbed your chin, tilting your face up to meet his as he leaned in, brushing his lips against yours.

You were definitely not expecting this to happen, but you weren’t upset in the least. His lips were soft and he tasted like coffee. Your hand found his hair as you pulled him closer to you, the gentle kiss turning into something hungrier the longer it went on. He pulled away suddenly and pulled you out of his chair before taking his seat and pulling you down onto his lap just as quickly, his lips returning to yours the instant he had you on him. Your arm wound itself around his neck as your other cupped his jaw, keeping his face close to you as he held you close to him.

Slowly, his hand traveled under your sweater and along your waist, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. He easily slipped his tongue into your mouth, eliciting a moan from you as he did. You felt his erection growing as you sat on his lap, smiling into the kiss as you teasingly rubbed against him, earning a groan from him in response. He broke away from you for a moment as you both caught your breath, “Tell me if you want to stop,” was all he said before he maneuvered you with ease. He sat you on the edge of his desk while he took your boots off before he pulled your leggings down your thick thighs, his touch sending chills through you as he did.

He made quick work of his trousers, pulling them down before he took himself out of his briefs. He sat back down on his chair as he looked at you with lust filled eyes. “Stand up,” he told you. When you were standing before him, he pulled you close by your wide set hips before his fingers hooked the band of your thong, dragging it down until they were past your thighs and dropped to your ankles. “Step out of them, sweetheart.”

You did as he said before he pulled you closer and got you onto the chair, positioning you so you straddled his lap, barely hovering above his hard cock. You were breathing heavily as your hands grasped his shoulders and his hands held your fleshy hips. He looked up at you like he was waiting for your permission and so you nodded softly down at him. He gripped himself with one hand and moved the tip of his cock along your wet slit, you gasped in unison at the feeling. He took his time and just played with you a bit until you were moaning, whining above him. Your eyes squeezed shut as he circled your clit before he moved to finally align his cock up to your slick entrance. He pushed his tip just inside of you and groaned at the sensation, his hands returning to your hips as he gripped you tightly, holding you there despite you wanting desperately to take more of him.

“James,” you whined. He shook his head.

“Call me Bucky,” he instructed headily.

“Bucky,” you whined further, trying to lower yourself further onto his cock.

“I know, I know, sweetheart,” he laughed. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm,” you moaned as he took your lips in his again.

“You want more? Want more of my dick inside you?”

“Yes, yes, Bucky, please,” you mewled.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna give it to you,” he said, kissing you along your neck, “but then you’re gonna focus on your work, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed without really hearing him. You just needed more, you needed all of him.

He pulled you down further onto his cock torturously slowly as you gasped and mewled until he was seated fully inside of you.

“Fuck,” he grunted, eyes shutting in pleasure at the feeling of your tight walls squeezing him, at the warmth of your cunt around him.

You tried to move, but were stopped again by his hands holding you in place. He tutted as he looked at you, a smirk playing on his lips.

“What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart? We just agreed you’re gonna focus on your work now,”

“Huh? Right, right now?” you huffed.

“Right now,” he told you firmly.

You pouted as you leaned against his chest, your face pressing into his neck, even just that movement sparking pleasure through you.

“No pouting,” he laughed against your temple. You turned your face up to him, pout still in place before you leaned up further to kiss him again. Slow and heated, he got lost in your kiss. He almost didn’t stop you when you started rocking your hips against him. Almost.

You whined again as he held you still. His strength was impressive, you had to admit.

“Stop. Moving,” he growled, sending a new wave of arousal through you. “You’re gonna sit right here on my cock while we go over your essay and if you do a good job listening to me and stay focused, I’ll give you what you really want after. Understand?”

“Yes, professor,” you said quietly.

“Good,” he smiled, caressing your cheek as he looked down at you.

It was thirty five minutes of pure torture. He read a loud your entire essay and had you make corrections as he went, the entire time you could feel his thick cock throbbing inside your dripping cunt, just begging for any kind of movement. Near the end of your essay corrections, his hand dropped from your hip until he found your clit, slowly beginning to rub it in tight circles. You mewled pathetically and your walls tightened around his dick still deep inside of you while his lips attacked your neck with gentle kisses and love bites.

“You did so well, sweetheart,” he praised. “You took this from a C to an A with just thirty minutes of actual focus. All you had to do was face your distractions head on, find the right motivation,” he smirked against your skin.

“So we’re done with the editing then, right?” you asked.

“Mhm,” he hummed against you.

“Great,” you breathed as he brought you closer with his every touch.

“Fuck, you’re squezzing me so tight,” he groaned.

“I’m gonna come,” you mewled, breathing heavier still as his left hand tightened on your hip and his fingers worked your bud faster, sending you head first into your orgasm, his name falling off your tongue as you cursed and panted through your high, collapsing onto his chest.

“Oh my god,” he whined with a small gasp, his eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck, can I come inside you?” he asked. You nodded your answer as you were still trying to catch your breath. He grabbed your face and crashed his lips into yours, hot and needy, while you felt him tense suddenly as his cock pulsed inside you and he moaned deeply into your mouth as he let himself go, you could feel the warmth of his release against your walls.

The evidence of your orgasm was all over his lap, coating his dick as he pulled you off of him.

“Holy fuck,” he panted. You didn’t think it was possible, but you felt yourself heat up even more than you already had been. “Hand me a tissue,” he said pointing to the box he had on the corner of his desk.

He cleaned himself up quickly before he pulled his briefs and trousers back up. He had you again on the edge of his desk as he bent down to clean you up, too, admiring the way his cum was leaking out of you before he grabbed your leggings from the floor, handing them to you. He pocketed your thong before he stood back up to his full height, towering over you.

“That was nice,” he laughed softly as he leaned down closer to you, his right hand framing your face, tilting it up to meet his eye, his thumb gently stroking the soft skin of your cheek before he leaned in to place a chaste kiss on your lips.

You smiled in response. “Yeah, it was,” you agreed.

“I hope you don’t find this inappropriate, but I’ve wanted you since the day we met.”

“The feeling is more than mutual,” you assured him. “But uhm. Is this..,” you gestured between the two of you, “allowed?” you questioned as you hopped off his desk to pull your leggings on.

“Well, it’s certainly not encouraged, but there’s nothing in my contract that explicitly prohibits it. I made sure a few months ago,” he said, eyeing you with a shy smile as if he hadn’t just come inside you after making you cockwarm him for nearly 45 minutes. It made you laugh. “I would prefer to keep this between us for as long as we can, though,” he hedged.

“Yeah, I completely agree. Don’t need these kids gossiping about me, too.”

“They do love to talk, don’t they?” he grimaced, causing you to smile at him.

“I’m sure we can keep this under wraps,” you said as you pulled your boots back on. “And I’d like to sign up for next week's one on one sessions, too, if you're available.”

“I’ll be sure to block it out for you,” he grinned.

“Might as well make it a standing weekly appointment,” you suggested as you walked back over to him from where he was perched on his desk.

“Sounds like a good idea,” he responded as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer while you stared up at him, your arms wrapping around him in return. “Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Dinner?” you questioned, pulling back slightly. “That doesn’t sound very underwraps,” you teased.

“A private dinner. At a private residence. My residence,” he clarified with a smirk.

“I’m free,” you nodded as you backed away and went to the other side of the desk as he turned around to watch you.

“Great, I’ll message you the address.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for it,” you said as you grabbed your bag and slipped your laptop back inside of it. “I should get going, but, thank you. For everything,” you simpered. “I really appreciate your help.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. My door’s always open. I’ll see you tomorrow,”

“Tomorrow it is,” you nodded in agreement as you walked to the door. But before you could open it, Bucky was behind you, turning you around to face him. His lips met yours in a soft, unrushed kiss before he pulled away slowly, opening the door for you.

“Have a good night,” you breathed.

“You, too,” he smiled.

Three weeks later you had a routine set in place. Nothing changed much in class, except you found yourself paying more close attention to the material now that you weren’t so hopelessly longing for your professor. Wednesday’s were your one on one sessions in Bucky’s office and Friday nights had been spent at his place. This last week, you’d even stayed the three day weekend with him. You knew you weren’t crazy when you had thought there was something real between the two of you when you had first met, but you didn’t expect to have clicked so well the way you had. Your chemistry was unbelievable and you got on so well together. Plus the sex was incredible.

Fucking in his office was so cliche, but that didn’t make it any less hot. In fact, it was really the only place you called him “Professor” these days. The title just made things that much sexier. It was Wednesday afternoon and you’d just gotten out of your last class for the day. You were going to head to Bucky’s office in a few hours, planning to go to your apartment to freshen up before picking up some food for you both on your way back.

You’d just finished changing into more…accessible clothes when your phone rang. It was a text from Bucky letting you know that the heat in his office wasn’t working again, so you’d have to meet in the library instead as they’d be working on the unit in his room. You frowned slightly, accepting that you’d changed for nothing, but at least the skirt was still comfortable. You texted back asking if you should still bring food and he promised he’d take you somewhere after instead. Apparently only two of his students in his 3:20 class showed up, so he dismissed them for the day. He was already on his way to the library, so you grabbed your things and headed back to campus.

You walked around the library looking for him with no luck before you decided to walk up to the second level, which was technically closed off for some construction work, in order to get a better view. You spotted him easily in the far back section of the lower level as you stood at the railing of the second floor. He was sipping on a cup of coffee and you smiled as you spied a cup of tea waiting for you next to his satchel on the table while he read over some work.

You walked back down to the first floor and made your way to him.

“Professor,” you greeted as you knocked on the bookcase blocking the table he was at from an easy view. He greeted you in return as he looked up from his work, a smile on his face. His eyes caught on the low v-neck of the top you were wearing, your cleavage on perfect display. His tongue jutted out along his lower lip as he admired the view. You cleared your throat as you looked at him with a raised brow.

He looked back up to your eyes, smiling charmingly as if he hadn’t just been caught leering at you so openly.

“I’m here to study, not be perved on,” you accused.

“You know you need to clear your mind to get your focus, first. And you know what helps clear your mind best,” he alluded.

“You know we’re in public, right?” you asked, voice hushed as you walked closer to the table.

“It’s a Wednesday, no one’s gonna come back here,” he said smoothly. “We’re hidden from sight.”

“Not true,” you denied. “I saw you from the second level,” you informed him.

“Was anyone up there?” he asked.

“No..”

“Didn’t think so,” he said smugly.

“There’s not right now. Anyone could come in at any time. It’s the middle of the day.”

“You’re right,” he aquesqued, hands up. “All work, no play today. I got you a tea,” he offered.

“Thank you,” you smiled as you took the seat across from him.

“Wow, why are you sitting so far?”

“Where do you want me to sit?” you laughed.

“Preferably, my lap,” he started, earning a humored scoff from you. “But right here would be good, too,” he said, gesturing to the seat next to him.

You got up and moved spots, getting comfortable before you pulled up your essay on your laptop.

“Still going through midterms?” you asked as you looked over to him making marks on the paper he was reading.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Have you gotten to mine yet?”

“Not yet,” he said absently.

You nodded as you took a sip of your tea. You looked back to your essay and found yourself trailing off. It was pretty much finished, just needed to be read through again for any edits you needed to make. It wasn’t enough to keep your attention. Too easy. You could do it later no problem.

Instead you took out your text for Andy’s class and started reading next week’s assignment. You didn’t have much else to do. Funnily enough, you’d been getting most of your work done earlier than normal so you’d have less to actually do on Wednesdays, instead spending your “study” time focusing on other things…

You weren’t paying attention to anything, lost in perverted thoughts of last week when Bucky had fucked you agaisnt the wall in his office, while twirling your pen as you stared down blankly at the words on the page, not reading them at all. Pulling you from your perversions, suddenly you felt Bucky’s hand smooth its way under your skirt and up your thigh. His hand was so warm and strong as he touched you, sending chills through you as he scooted his chair closer to yours. You didn’t stop him and absentmindedly spread your thighs for him as he inched his way closer and closer to your inner thighs before his fingers made their way between them, gently rubbing at your warm, barely clothed pussy.

You came back to earth as you remembered where you were and reached your hand under the table to hold his, stopping his movements.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing, professor?” you breathed.

“Helping,” he responded. “What did I say about distractions, sweetheart?”

“Who says I’m distracted,” you whispered as you heard chatter coming from the other side of the bookcase before it passed as some students made their way to the front desk from the back office you weren’t too far off from.

“You have that far off look in your eyes,” he spoke quietly, “and I saw you squeezing your thighs together not ten seconds ago.” You exhaled a breath so softly you barely even heard yourself.

“Maybe we can end this session early and call it a day?” you asked, wanting to get out of the library and meet him back at your place, or hell, meet him at his car and let him take you apart in the faculty parking lot.

“No, I don’t think so. We both have some work left to do.”

“Bucky,” you whispered.

“No calling me Bucky outside my office while we’re on campus,” he reminded you. “You know better.”

You bit your lip before whispering sorry.

“You just need to face your distractions so you can get past them,” he said. “Let me help.”

You let go of his hand beneath the table and spread your thighs a little wider.

You almost stopped breathing completely when he slipped his fingers past your panties and gently pushed inside of you as one of the librarians passed by the aisle over. She peered behind the bookcase that was shielding you from the side to see who was at the tables and greeted both of you quietly before she returned to the aisle and reshelved some books. Bucky’s fingers didn’t stop for even a second as he returned her greeting and went back to grading.

The second you knew she was gone you panted a breath. “James,” you chastised as you sat in your seat still, making no attempt to actually stop him.

“More?” he questioned without looking up from his work, only speeding up his fingering, curling them inside of you. You bit down harshly on your lip to stop yourself from moaning out loud, your thighs tensing with the impending wave of pleasure you were teetering on before he slipped his fingers out of you, a school boy smirk playing on his lips.

You exhlaed heavily and shakily before looking over to him, shocked. He finally looked back at you, still smirking.

“I wanna try something. If you want me to stop, tell me,” he said as he removed his hand from your thigh and stood up abruptly. You could see the outline of his erection through his trousers and found yourself getting more aroused. You didn’t know what he wanted to do, but assumed it'd be something at least a little discret. Along the lines of putting you in his lap again, or even just having you get him off. So when he pulled you up and spun you around, pushing you down against the table, you were surprised to say the least. You heard him unzip his pants as he pulled himself free and then pulled your panties down your thighs. You couldn’t even think as he prodded you with his cock, and gasped loudly when he finally pushed into you. His hand was on your mouth in an instant as he leaned over your back, his mouth next to your ear as he spoke. “Gotta be quiet, sweetheart,” he panted. “You don’t want anyone to see us back here, do you?”

Your gurgled moan was his response as he began fucking into you, keeping your chest firmly againt the sturdy table, one hand on your mouth and one holding your wrists behind your back. You were panting as quietly as you could as he slid in and out of you, getting deeper with each thrust. He took his hand away from your mouth after a moment and gripped your hip to keep you a little more steady, trying to keep your hips from slamming so hard into the wood. The salacious sounds of his pelvis slapping against your ass with his thrusts were only making you more slick as he moved his hand from your wrists to keep your skirt pushed up as he fucked you from behind.

It was taking all of your willpower to keep quiet, your mouth open in silent moans as you tried to keep yourself breathing. His thrusts were getting more powerful the longer he went. Each time you heard people passing by, your cunt gripped his cock even tighter at the thrill of the proximity, and Bucky didn’t miss it.

“Who knew you were so fucking kinky,” he panted into your ear. “You like getting fucked in public, huh? Like the idea of anyone walking by and seeing you get fucked out of your mind? Seeing you getting claimed by me,” he husked.

You mewled as quietly as you could and nodded your head in affirmation. “I like it,” you whispered pathetically.

“I know you do,” he laughed before fucking into you deeper, making sure you felt every inch of his thick cock gliding against your velvety walls, squeezing him tightly.

“Professor, please,” you pleaded quietly.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he grunted as he gripped your hip harder still, pulling your ass flush against him before he began rutting into you desperately. He leaned his weight onto you as he kept you pushed down, flush against the table. His hand left your skirt and found your clit, adding to the growing pressure building in your abdomen as he rubbed you, fucking you and stimulating all the most sensitive spots along your walls. Before you knew you were, you came completely undone, the familiar white hot pleasure induced euphoria spreading through you as you came around him, squeezing him like you never wanted him to leave you empty again. And truth be told, you didn’t. You’d never felt so fulfilled or satisfied in your life.

He could barely move as you came around him, but after a few more thrusts, he shot his load inside of you, cursing under his breath as he came, panting. After a moment, he pulled out gently and slid your panties back up for you, pushing your skirt down before he fixed himself. You were still reeling from the intensity of it all when you stood, a little wobbly, from the table.

Cute planned ending:

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you breathed, turning around to face Bucky. “We really just did that,” you said, still in shock at yourself while Bucky grinned proudly before looking around a bit, just making sure you were still alone. He grabbed you by your waist and pulled you close, leaning down to kiss you deeply, letting you go for a second before kissing you harder again.

“We did. And now,” he said, ushering you back to your seat, urging you to sit down, “you're gonna finish editing your paper while I grade a few more of these midterms, no distractions.”

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered as you looked up at him still standing while you were seated once again. “I’m the one sitting here with come leaking out of me,” you complained.

“Is it that distracting for you, sweetheart?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Yes,” you responded.

“No problem. I can help with that, too,” he smirked as he got down on his knees, crawling under the table to kneel at your feet as your eyes went wide while you watched him. He pulled you to the edge of the chair before he slipped your panties off completely. “That essay better be ready to turn in by the time I get back up, do you understand?” he warned. You could feel his breath against your folds as he got closer.

“Yes, professor,” you mewled pathetically as you spread your thighs even wider for him.

Alternative kind of darkish ending:

You felt eyes on you as you turned around, but it wasn’t Bucky. You looked up to the second floor and could have sworn you saw Andy passing by, worry flooding through you instantly. You weren’t sure, though. Maybe he was really just walking by and hadn’t seen anything. Maybe it was no one at all and you were just imagining things. You almost didn’t even want to say anything about it, just act like you hadn’t seen, or thought you saw, anyone at all.

Until Andy came knocking on the bookcase, from the opposite direction, startling you as you gasped and spun around, hands flying to make sure your skirt was smoothed down completely, unconscious backing toward where Bucky was. Andy looked between you both for a second before he spoke, a knowing, devilish smirk growing on his face as he looked at you in a way you’d never seen him look at anyone before. Lewdly, leering, lustful, even.

“What’s goin’ on down here?”

You looked back at Bucky, hoping to find some kind of reassurance or protection, but he was completely unphased at the presence of his friend.

“You enjoy the show?” he asked, unamused.

“I think I could put on better,” he shrugged, eyes still locked on you, even as Bucky pulled you into his side.

“What do you think, sweetheart? Wanna let him try?”

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