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James Barnes, your colleague that was kind enough to take up being your TA part time during your evening classes, is a good man. He never slacked off, took deadlines very seriously, and would even sometimes teach the first half of your lectures if you were running late. You've gotten close enough that he 1) has your number and 2) is aware you've been babysitting your nephews the past few weeks. He waves off your constant gratitude for all that he's done because he sees it as a natural thing. He'd be there for you at the drop of a hat, no questions asked.
Part of you felt like he was so okay with it because he's been waiting for you to finally agree to see him after work hours. You've teased him a few times about it but he still persists. He admires you and your hard work. That and how you look walking around the front of the lecture hall classroom in your new work heels, but he won't say that out loud.
It's not that you don't think he's attractive. You think he's very attractive, but you've never been one to engage in workplace romance. Not after your last divorce almost a decade ago. You've been going on strong separating work and pleasure. Does it bother you that James likes to skate on thin ice every time he sees you? ...maybe not as much. However! A few words of flattery and his obvious lingering stares and touches will not sway you.
Right?
"Professor Barnes and I will have your essays graded and back to you all by Friday. Class dismissed." You said as you turned off the mic and watched your students file out of the lecture hall. You stacked some copies and slid them into your binder before heading over to your desk, stuffing it into your bag. After a few minutes, the door opened and in came your criminally handsome TA down the steps. A pile of papers in his hands and a look of pride on his face.
"Finished my stack today," he said as he walked up to you and put it on your desk. Your brow raised and your eyes darted from the pile back to him.
"You finished your half today?" You asked.
"Yes, ma'am," he replied with a bit of rasp, still smiling.
"That's 20 papers," you added, "I gave them to you Thursday."
"Didn't want to leave you hanging." He shrugged. You nodded, impressed. He still managed to surprise you even after a month and a half.
"Huh...thank you," you grabbed the pile and put it safely into a drawer. "I still have like four left."
"I can take them," he offered rather eagerly. You shook your head.
"I got it. I won't ask you to do more than needed."
He watched you pack up the rest of your things and head for the steps, biting his lip in thought.
"Are you busy this evening?"
You turned as you were halfway up a step. "You've asked me that about three times this week."
He shrugs. "It's about the third time you haven't given me an answer."
You sighed and conceded, only because you actually are busy today. "Since you must know, I've got to drop my nephews off at my sister's house. So I am indeed busy this evening."
He raises a brow, leaning against the desk. "Surely that wouldn't take you until 11pm," he said as he checked his watch. "And I thought you did that at like 8:30?"
"She's back from her business trip so I thought I might as well do it now. And her husband still has a nasty cough so," you shrugged lightly. Then a thought popped into his head.
"You said she's back?"
"Yes..." you said with skeptical eyes. "Why?"
"So this would be the last time you have to do this?"
You knew where he was going with that.
"It is, yes."
His lips curled into a sly smile. "Perfect."
You narrowed your eyes at him. "James."
He held his hands up in defense. "I haven't said anything yet."
"I know that look." You accused.
"What look?"
When you crossed your arms, his eyes briefly flicked from your face to your chest smushing together behind your blouse then back up at you. And there it was.
"That look, that look" you pointed at him, "that's the look you have when you're up to something."
"Hey, I'm just saying..." he mused. "There's a chance you won't be busy next time."
You huffed a soft laugh through your nose and shook your head. You had to give him props for being so consistent, but you still kept a tight standard on pleasure and work. And you knew he knew that. He was trying to act all coy but he was terrible at hiding how he really felt. You weren't blind to that. He's had a thing for you since the moment he was assigned to you. He was so obvious it was almost cute.
"I'll see you Friday, James," you said and continued on upstairs. Oh, how he loved how his name sounded coming from you. He watched you with his lips pulled thin and waved farewell to your retreating form, trying really hard not to watch your curves through your skirt.
"Yes ma'am."
-
Four days later.
Those four days felt like years to him. Torture. He hated that he had to wait that long to see you again. He tried to keep himself busy between class, grading papers, and even going to the gym but still, you plagued him. You were all he thought about. The way your blouse dipped past your collarbone, that scented lotion you used religiously. The type of jewelry you liked. How you sometimes forgot your glasses were on top of your head while teaching. How often you praised your students.
Ohhh...the praise.
"Good job." "Very good." "You're on the right track."
Hearing those words leave your lips would make his mind go other places. Places he would get in trouble for being in, but, he couldn't help it. You were attractive, intelligent, ambitious…he was a total sucker.
Maybe he was making it all up but, Gods, all he wants is to impress you. Wants to be praised, and wants you to just give him one chance to show you a good time so you can realize he's the one for you. In the darkest of nights, he craved your attention so much it was driving him mad.
He wanted you to notice him and only him. He wanted more than telling him about how great he was doing at his job. He wanted you to look at him like you wanted him. Like you also dreamt about him falling asleep between your thighs or scolding him about leaving hickeys in clear spots when you have class the next day. Making him walk into class with lipstick stains on his collar and all over his face so everyone knew who he belonged to.
"James?"
He blinked and looked to his left. You were sitting on the corner of your desk and pointed to the drawer where you left his stack of essays.
"Uh-" he stammered and looked around, wiping the side of his mouth again to see if anything was there, but there was nothing.
"I asked if you could hand those out," you repeated, apparently.
"When did you...?" he trailed off.
"While I was teaching...?" you gave him a concerned look. "I already handed out my stack. Can you hand those out, please?"
He just stared at you for a second, his mouth partially open and brain still trying to catch up. He quickly realized what you were asking of him and nodded.
"Uh yeah- right. Sorry." he said quickly as he went into the drawer and grabbed the pile before he got up and started handing out the rest. You watched him with your brow raised, concern etched onto your face. He's been a little off for the past two weeks. You were chalking it up to exhaustion from working all week and were feeling a bit bad for him, but now you're not so sure.
After class, you were both gathering your things when you looked up at him from across your desk, already knowing what he was going to say.
"Don't give me that look," you teased. He chuckled and shook his head. "Are you good, by the way? You seemed a little off today."
"Hm?" He tried to play coy as he packed his briefcase. You narrowed your eyes.
"You were zoning out. That's not like you."
He shrugged nonchalantly as he turned to look at you, giving you a small smile. "Just lost some hours of sleep last night. I'm fine."
You finished packing your bag, deciding to let it go even though you weren't fully buying it. "Okay," you said, smoothing out your skirt. "Hopefully you're not too tired. I was looking forward to a night out with a very persistent colleague of mine. If he's up for it."
His mouth went dry. Did you just say what he thinks you just said?
"I'm not that tired," he said with a short, nervous laugh and ran his hand through his hair to calm himself. "There's a spot right off campus. I can drive us."
"I thought you normally walked?"
"I do," he said while loosening buttons on his cuffs, "but you think I'm gonna make the woman I've been pestering for a date walk a few blocks in heels?"
You couldn't stop the little smile that spread across your face at that. The tone of his voice and his words had you ready to fold. "Touché," you said. He was vastly different from the man you used to call yours, but that was on the surface. You couldn't let the fact that he wore those slacks so well and his perfect amount of cologne distract you from making the right choices.
"That's fine by me," you added, sliding your bag under your desk. "If I have to grade one more thing today, my hand will fall off."
He tried not to appear too elated as he nodded, still trying to keep his cool. He started for the door behind him since he was parked out that way, opening it for you.
"After you, madam," he said in a playful tone and you rolled your eyes before heading out.
"You know you don't have to use honorifics with me, right? We're like the same age."
"Oh, I'm aware," he followed after you and took the opportunity to check you out from behind, letting his gaze wander over you in your work skirt and heels. He bit his lip to stop himself from getting lost in your figure and forced his eyes back up over your head, clearing his throat. "It's just fun to do."
-
You were sat at a booth in a small but cute and cozy little bistro just a few minutes off campus. It was quiet and cozy, with small dim lights lit for a more private atmosphere. There was soft jazz music playing in the background, and other than the quiet conversations and light laughter from other guests, there was mostly the sound of plates and glasses being moved around and waiters taking orders.
You've been sitting for a few moments as he watched you read over the menu. You looked incredible in the low light. The soft yellow-whiteish glow against your complexion had him mesmerized.
"You trust me?" he asked softly. You looked up to meet his eyes looking right at you, not even opening the menu.
"What?"
"Your order," he clarified, "I can order for both of us, but ya gotta trust me."
"You're making it sound life changing," you joked, a light laugh following as you put the menu down. "You must really know this place."
"My parents took me and my sister here a lot," he admitted while looking around with pure nostalgia in his eyes. "Part of the reason I started teaching here."
You gave him a look. "Because of a restaurant?"
"Yeah, I mean, this place is special to me. Wanted to stay close to it as much as possible after my parents passed."
You gently nodded and hummed.
"I also used to work here as a busboy back in high school. Most amount of tips I ever made."
A soft laugh came before you fully closed the menu, sliding it over top of his. "I trust you."
He smiled wider, glad to finally see you relaxing and letting yourself have some fun. He ordered their food and a bottle of wine before returning his attention to you, resting his elbows against the table.
"I'm still kind of surprised you agreed to this. Been trying to get you to come out with me for like a month."
"I didn't want to get your hopes up," you said truthfully. You weren't a beat-around-the-bush kind of woman--which Bucky appreciated. A lot. "Didn't know when my sister would get back from wherever she was in the world. Last semester I babysat them all the way up until the beginning of summer. I got lucky this time."
Bucky's eyes visibly softened at your words. He was aware of how considerate you were and how willing you were to accommodate or just generally help people out before thinking of yourself. It's part of what makes you a great professor, in his opinion at least.
"What are your nephews like?"
"Rowdy," you said with a fond smile, "One of them eats like there's an abyss in the pit of his stomach. The other eats normally, but is a total smart ass. I think I might've rubbed off on him."
"I don't think you're a smart ass."
"You haven't seen me outside of work," you pointed out with a wink. "I love them to bits, though."
"Yeah?" He smiled at your playfulness. "Should I expect you to be a little mean to me on occasion then?" he asked as the waiter came back with the wine and two glasses.
You shrugged lightly and watched him pour yours first then his. "Do you want me to start being mean to you?" you asked as a joke, a bit incredulously. Yet still...a bit of teasing, if he wasn't crazy.
You can do whatever you want to me, ma'am.
"Just saying, I wouldn't mind." he finally replied. You both grabbed the glasses at the same time before he added on. He caught how you tried not to react. "Cheers to finally relaxing."
He clinked his glass against yours and took a swig in tandem with you. As the tangy liquid courage ran its course through you, you couldn't help but feel you were falling for him. Already. It was frustrating because you really had a set plan for so long that hadn't cracked until he came along. You knew he was so set on getting past those steel walls you built, and you don't think you'd mind lowering them. Just a bit.
And you're going to pretend you didn't clock him staring at your lips as you licked them, still getting used to the taste of this brand of wine he ordered.
-
Two helpings of wine later, you were starting to feel a little looser. And the big plate of food to share was really good, too. After a few bites, he couldn't stop staring at you.
"What?" you asked, fist in front of your mouth as you were chewing.
"I don't mean to overstep," he began cautiously, "And you can tell me to fuck off if I am, but...last week I was talking to Lauren and she was showing me old photos of that girls trip you, her, and Tiana went on like years ago."
"Uh huh..." you mused.
"And...in one of the pictures you were wearing a ring."
"What is it you want to ask, James?"
"Bucky."
You crossed your arms and leaned forward on your elbows. "Sorry?"
"It's a nickname. I prefer it outside of work. Everybody calls me Bucky."
"Right," you chuckled, "What do you really want to ask me, Bucky?"
God damn it, the way you said his name back to him...he had to suppress the shiver that ran through his body. He cleared his throat, leaning back and copying you by folding his arms over his chest. "...how long were you married?" he finally asked.
"Four years," you said, "eight years divorced. Well, the eighth year next Wednesday."
He nodded as he let that sink in. "Can I ask what happened?"
You exhaled and took another long sip of wine. "Yeah, it was actually pretty good, what we had. Met him here at the university, did the whole dating thing in between classes. I let my guard down because he was the 'I love my woman' type, you know? After about two years, we got married. Things got shaky immediately, but I tried to pull through. By the fourth year, one of his students got a little eager about turning her 78 into a 98, if you catch what I mean."
You could visibly see him trying to keep his composure. Who in their right mind would risk losing someone like you over something that could've just been asked for? He unclenched his jaw and finished the last bit of wine in his glass.
"...does he still work here?"
"Hell no," you scoffed. "Apparently he's been doing shit like that long before we got together. One of the male students rightfully ratted him out and he was packing the next day."
"Good." he spat out, reeling back shortly after, "I mean, not 'good'- I didn't mean to-"
"It's fine," you waved it off. "Lauren and Ti had the same reaction. But now you see why I'm so...strict, when it comes to the whole 'workplace romance' thing. I can't allow that to happen again."
"I understand," he said quietly and took another bite of food. "Gotta put the walls up so you don't get hurt again. I just think that, maybe, I could... change your mind. Show you I'm serious about this and don't intend to make such an idiotic mistake of fumbling a gem."
You also ate more food, this time slower as you took in his proposal. Declaration, even.
"What makes you so sure you can change my mind?"
"I'm not," he admitted with a less playful, more gentle look in his eyes. "But you're sitting here with me. You agreed to give me a chance, something you probably haven't done with anyone since. I figure I must be pretty damn special to have you agreeing to come on this date when you could've told me to leave you alone. I'd like to try, if you'll have me."
You could see he was not playing around anymore, and you knew he wasn't the kind of guy to say things aloud that he didn't mean or wasn't intended to hear. Anyone else would be better than your ex husband anyway.
"Deal," you said with a fond look. "I would like the next date to be during the weekend, though. Can't keep coming out in my work attire on dates."
Trust, he was the last person to mind how pretty you looked in your skirt and low heels. He nodded with a soft blink and poured more wine into both your glasses.
"Yes, ma'am."
-
Two weeks later; midterms.
It's been two weeks of bliss. Flowers, chivalry, good food, dancing, responsible drinking, and just overall great vibes. After the fourth date, you shared your first kiss. Sure, it was motivated by a bit of alcohol here and there, but it didn't take away from the moment. It was in the comfort of your own home and he stopped before it went any further, remembering your boundaries. Last thing he would want to do is rush and scare you off. Even if you did look like you wanted to devour him right then and there. You had half a mind to say fuck it to your own rules, but you caught yourself.
It was torture watching you review for midterms. Why? Possibly because due to the autumn weather, you've been wearing stockings. James Buchanan Barnes was a goner.
He thinks you did it on purpose. He made one joke about stockings being one of the things that he was a sucker for while tipsy, and the very next week you're constantly walking around with those gorgeous legs covered in those things.
You were.
It was close to the end of class when a few students were talking to you about the study guide. James pretended to get a phone call then stepped out the room. After about four minutes, the last student was done talking to you and went on his way, leaving just you in the lecture hall. You tapped your desk and checked your watch with a curious hum before standing up and heading upstairs to see if he was outside the classroom. No sign of him.
You looked around the empty hall and made your way to the staff bathrooms, coming to an abrupt stop at the men's room. You quickly looked around then pressed your ear to the door. There was a beat a silence before you heard a loud shudder and a deep, stifled moan. Like the sound was obscured by a hand. Your heart beat faster as you gasped. Thoughts running in every direction possible.
Would it be crazy if...
You carefully twisted the knob and pushed the door open, actually shocked it was left unlocked. Quickly getting in so no one would see you going into the men's room. The door shut and his eyes snapped open. You looked at him. He looked at you.
Holy shit.
He was standing in front of the mirror and jerking off over the sink. It's like he was genuinely frozen in time. His hand was still wrapped around his dick, and he could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up his neck and into his cheeks. He quickly tried to cover himself with his free hand, but it was too late. You had already seen everything.
"I--I can explain," he stammered. He knew how this must look, but he hadn't been expecting anyone to come in, let alone you. He had been so lost in his thoughts of you, in the fantasy of your lips wrapped around him. The idea of you knowing exactly what you do to him. Scolding him for not being able to wait it out or having the audacity to think of you in such a manner to begin with. So much so that he hadn't heard the door open.
"Don't let me stop you," you said as you crossed your arms. His brows furrowed as he looked over his shoulder, utter shock. "Turn around."
He swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest as he slowly turned to face you fully. He could see the heat in your eyes, the way your gaze traveled over his body, taking in his debauched form. He felt a shiver run down his spine.
"You want me to...continue?" he asked, his voice a hushed murmur. He couldn't quite believe what was happening, that you were actually standing there, watching him willingly.
"That is what I said," you replied. "Go on. Finish what you started."
"I..." he instinctively tightened his grip and took a long blink.
"Do you want the nice me or the mean me?" you spoke up again to clear his possible doubts.
He thought about it...really thought about it.
"...mean."
"Then hurry the fuck up," you demanded. He shuddered again and started stroking again. "We don't have all evening, Bucky."
"Fuck," he breathed. He tried to focus on the sensation, on the way his body was responding to your presence, but it was hard to concentrate when all he could think about was you. How harshly his name fell off your lips. How quickly you got into that role at the drop of a dime. You looked him up and down as you walked up to him, never breaking eye contact. Once you stopped in front of him, you kept going.
"You just couldn't wait," you scoffed, "What are you, fifteen years old? Get your shit together."
"I'm sorry," he nearly whimpered and panted. "I just can't stop thinking about you..."
"Yeah?" you purred, your face a few inches from his. His warm breath fanning over your lips as he held back on cumming too fast. "Tell me what you think about."
"I think about...I think about worshipping you," he confessed. "Just- on my knees and seeing the look on your face when you realize in my eyes, you're the only woman in the world. I- I wanna remind you what pleasure really is and- and-"
His eyes shut tight.
"And what?" you grabbed his jaw and made him look at you. He stroked faster and felt his body twitch at how painfully horny he was right now.
"-and show you how much I adore you, how much I crave you. In every way beyond lust, baby."
There was pure desperation and sincerity in his eyes. Getting a glimpse of what you do to him without even having gotten to see that side of you yet could become addictive real soon.
"You're getting close," you whispered. "I can see it in your eyes. You want to let go, don't you? You want to cum for me. Be my good boy."
He nodded and leaned in just an inch to where your breaths mingled. "I do," he whispered back. "I'll cum for you. I'm your good boy."
"Oh, you're telling me, now?" you smiled and caressed his stubble with your thumb. "I don't recall saying you could."
"Please," he moaned quietly, still mindful of the small bathroom. "I'm sorry, please let me cum. Please let me be your good boy."
"I should make you stop right now," you narrowed your eyes and could see the sudden panic in his, but you aren't that cruel. "But I won't. Cum for me, Bucky," you said. "Like the needy pathetic man you are."
You did him a solid by covering his mouth for him before he could accidentally alert the entire floor. His body stiffened and relaxed as he reached his peak, warm cum spilling over his hand. He reached back to steady himself on the sink and caught his breath. When he opened his eyes back up, he could nearly cum again just because of the way you looked at him with such dark satisfaction.
Slowly lowering your hand, you ran that same hand through his hair and gave him a tender kiss on the lips, whispering, "Good boy."
You backed away, watching him chase after your lips before stopping himself. You looked down at the white spurts on the floor then looked back up at him, patting him on the cheek.
"I'll meet you in the parking lot."
-
Next Saturday.
Bucky insisted on holding off on grading midterms and going to this professors event because he knows how you get when you put all your focus in something. It was a formal event to just mingle and have a good time with the rest of the staff.
You weren't going to go, at first. Only because you did want to get this grading done, but Bucky convinced you with those pretty pleading blue eyes and soft neck kisses in all the right spots after your students left.
The subtle proud glances you got from your friends, seeing you walk in looking all hot with this fine ass man on your arm had you winking at them before turning your attention back to him.
"Can't believe I let you convince me to come to this thing," you muttered in his ear. He smiled and greeted a few people.
"Respectfully, if you think I'll ever pass up the opportunity to see that ass in a dress, you are sorely mistaken."
You playfully swatted his bicep and looked for the drink table when your expression fell suddenly. Like a sixth sense, he looked back to you with concern.
"You okay?"
You snapped out of your thoughts and met his eyes again with an attempt at a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm good."
He narrows his eyes and says your name, not letting you look away from him. You sighed and gestured in the direction you were looking.
"That's him," you said with slight disgust. "With an old student of mine. No wonder he made it in here."
His eyes landed on the very man that changed your entire demeanor. Damn. He, uh...was a bit attractive. Had a few inches on Bucky. The guy looked like a fuckin' sweetheart, which just pissed him off even more. Your hand pressed to his chest when he stepped forward.
"What are you doing?"
"I just wanna introduce myself," he said, gaze unmoving. You stood in front of him and waved in front of him.
"Hey, earth to Bucky, I would prefer if you didn't!" you said and he sighed. "Last thing needed in a professional is you potentially punching someone's lights out over something that happened eight years ago."
"And for the last eight years you haven't given anyone a chance to experience how great you are because of that asshole," he countered, but finally de-tensed once he saw your pleading eyes. "But I'll leave it alone. And I wasn't going to punch him."
His words and no-bullshit look didn't go unnoticed. He was right, after all, and he wasn't going to let you downplay it.
"Alright," you smoothed out his lapels and dusted off his shoulders. "I'm gonna go talk to Palmer about stealing some of her old PowerPoints then bring some drinks. Okay?"
Bucky nodded, resisting the urge to give you a send off kiss that definitely would've lasted longer than a peck.
"Behave," you added and departed. He hated to see you go, but damn it he did love watching you walk away.
After about fifteen minutes, Bucky was chatting with another professor about more efficient ways to keep students engaged when someone came up from behind him. He expected it to be you, but when he turned around he had to look up just a little bit.
It was him. Your ex.
The man flashed a smile and fist bumped two other male teachers that was in this little cohort before extending his hand towards Bucky.
"Walter," he says, "Walter White. Nothing like the guy from the show, though."
The other teachers laughed heartily and playfully punched him on the arm. Bucky tried his absolute hardest to behave. Shaking his hand firmly, he introduced himself with a tight smile back.
"James," he said. Then...as he was still shaking his hand, a lightbulb popped up in his head. He got the grand idea to say your last name. Luckily he was shaking his hand with his right. Bucky had to hold back a laugh at the slow realization on Walter's face.
"Oh," he said with a dry chuckle and let go, crossing his arms. He said your name in the form of a question and Bucky just nodded.
"She's too incredible not to take her last name, you know?"
This earned a tongue-in-cheek from Walter.
"I guess," he said, looking to his friends for some validation. "I see her demanding nature hasn't changed."
"What does that mean?"
Walter laughed. Bucky could feel his sweat forming from holding back.
"Nah, I'm just sayin'. I'm shocked you didn't take the first opportunity to run."
"Yeah, well, that's because I'm not a pu-"
"James!"
He looked over his shoulder to see you walking up to him, smiling? When he turned halfway, you cupped his jaw and kissed him. Walter scoffed under his breath. "I've been looking all over for you, baby."
Bucky blinked, surprised, but suppressed it.
"If you'll excuse us," you took his hand and pulled him away. Bucky took the chance to give Walter a lingering death glare before turning away and following wherever you were going. Maybe you were mad at him for talking to your literal ex husband when you asked him not to, or perhaps almost chewing him out before you caught up to him.
"Look, I'm sorry, but he approached me and I just- Wait, why are we in a dark classroom-"
And just like that, he was silenced by a pair of plump, red stained--shout out to no smudge--lips on his. Your back against the cool wooden door and warm arms hooked around his neck. He backed up for a moment, frazzled.
"Uh-" he cleared his throat. "So...you aren't mad...?"
"Bucky," you licked your lips and fixed the curl on his forehead, "that was so hot."
"Oh- wait, what?"
"I heard you use my last name," you said, he mouthed an 'O' of realization. "Has a nice ring to it."
He chuckled. "It does, doesn't it?" he murmured softly and trailed kisses down your cheek, his stubble tickling you. "Didn't mean to impose on you."
"I don't care about that right now," you admitted, quite honestly while lifting your leg to his hip so he could catch it. He lifted his head back up while sliding your dress up to your hips.
"You think it's safe to do this in a chem lab?"
You glanced past him before shrugging. "If we just stay by the door," you said, "and we have like a little over ten minutes tops before somebody notices we're gone."
He slowly smiled, lifting your thigh slightly higher then gently pushed you harder against the door for balance. He was impressed you were keeping your heels on. Finally leaning in to kiss you again, it was go time.
His hands roamed you freely as he slipped them under your dress. He paused, pulling back again with a knowing expression.
"No panties?"
You bit your bottom lip coyly. "Oops."
He quietly thanked all that was holy and dropped to his knees, ducking under your dress. You gasped and braced on the door so you wouldn't fall--not that he would ever let that happen.
"Bucky!" you whisper yelled but couldn't stop a giggle. "We don't have much time!"
"All I need is three minutes," he licked a stripe and felt your thigh tremble next to his ear. "Maybe less."
You covered your mouth once his lips latched onto your heat. His hand gripping your thigh to keep it draped over his shoulder. Already obscene noises filling your ears while trying to keep yourself quiet. It was growing harder by the second with his nose constantly brushing against your clit. His hums of satisfaction ran through your like a line of gasoline that was lit on fire.
He lapped at you like a dog that's been running around in 80° all day. Like you were his only lifeline. Your twitches and light body jerks only spurring him on.
Your hand lowered to push his head further. He licked faster and was now intentionally using the tip of his nose to get you to cum quicker. You were doing a great job at keeping it in, but you were this close to losing balance.
"I'm gonna- fall over-" you panted and struggled to keep your eyes open.
"Mm mm," he muffled. "I won't let you."
Your hips moved in sync with his tongue, riding it to your heart's content and covering your mouth again. He wasn't wrong about that less than three minutes. It's been two and a half!
You came quicker than you expected. Your body jerking against his face while you spilled your moans into your palm. Heart beating a mile a minute. If you had more time he'd let you continue to ride this out on his face, but he was on a mission.
Bucky stood up and quickly wiped the lower half of his face before quickly undoing his belt.
"Permission to show my gorgeous girlfriend what a real man is?"
You just barely caught your breath, a lazy smile forming on your lips. "If I say no?" you teased. He stopped, leaning closer.
"I'd believe you if you could stand straight."
"Fuck you," you chuckled and pecked him on the lips. You always suspected you tasted sweet.
"Is that a yes?"
"If you're confident you can get us both off in five minutes."
He pulled his dick out and watched your impressed eyes widen.
"What did I say?" he muttered as he hooked your leg on his arm like before and lined up to your hole. You used his broad shoulders for leverage to prepare yourself.
"Three minutes?" you asked breathlessly, breath hitching when he only slid the tip in. He groaned and exhaled.
"Okay, maybe five."
Once he started thrusting, you already buckled. Shit!
"You okay?" he asked with a pant, "not too much?"
You shook your head immediately and gripped his shoulders tighter. He smiled and kissed your neck. His dreams were finally, finally coming true. This moment right here. Not where he expected to finally be able to touch you like this. Feel your heartbeat on your neck through his lips. Hear you purposely choke back your moans. All because of him.
And him alone.
"Oh my fu-" you deeply inhaled and exhaled. Head against the door, nails clawing at the fabric of his sexy ass suit. Brows furrowing. You don't remember him being this big last week.
"Fuck, you're so pretty," he whispered on the sensitive part of your neck, causing you to shiver. "Can't believe I have the privilege to fuck you like this."
He slid his free arm around your body to hold you close and help you keep balance, palm right on your ass. You can't believe it took you this long to give him a chance. James Barnes, your colleague that was kind enough to take up being your TA part time during your evening classes, is a good man. Bucky--who apparently wouldn't mind taking your last name--was the reason you were about to cum again in the next minute.
You would've given him a chance long ago if you didn't fear getting hurt the same way. I mean, look at him! Who wouldn't want to throw themselves at him? So, of course, it was jarring when he first made it clear he only had eyes for you and wasn't going to stop unless you told him to. He was determined to have you. To show you there is better and that you deserve better. Deserve this.
He captured your lips in a heated kiss as you came undone first, using all this strength to hold you upright. His hips stuttered and it took every fiber in his body not to stay buried against your cervix and give a new responsibility you never asked for. He pulled out but didn't let go of you. Didn't stop kissing you. He let you pour it all into his mouth and let you shake as much as you needed.
You pulled away very slowly, forehead on his. Your hands running through his wavy, slightly sweated out hair. "You got some on my thighs," you whispered, eyelids heavy, a short kiss on his lips following. "I can't go back out looking a mess, can I?"
He playfully scoffed, shaking his head and wearing a fond smirk as he lowered to his knees again.
"No, ma'am."