#professor sebastian stan

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Day 10 — Cockwarming

Pairing || CollegeProfessor!Bucky x Student!Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 800

Contents & Warnings || Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, explicit content/language, undefined age-gap, pet names, professor x student relationship, cockwarming (which leads to unprotected sex), teasing, Sir kink, mention of bodily fluids.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Kinktober Masterlist

You couldn’t sleep. Not without him by your side. You missed him, and you missed him. He was right next door in his office, but you felt bad about disturbing him while he worked late. You were needy and lonely without him, so you said fuck it and went to see him.

His door was slightly cracked open, so you peered your head in. You watched him, contemplating if you should go in after all when he looked so concentrated, but he heard you and called for you.

“Hey, baby, come in.”

You went in with your head down to the floor; your hand nervously stroked your arm.

“Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head no as you stand opposite where he’s sitting.

“I’m sorry, princess. I’ll be with you soon, ok? I just need to finish grading these papers.”

“Are you grading mine?” You smirk as you stand on your toes to peek at whose essay he’s scribbling on.

“Already have.” He pats the stack of papers beside him. “You’ll get it tomorrow in class. But you did good, my smart girl.” He winks.

Your heart fluttered at his praises and something else, which intensified your need for him.

“I miss you.” You pout.

“Come here.” He opened his arms for you. “You can sit on my lap while I finish. I promise I don’t have much left, ok?”

You straddled and snuggled into him, inhaling his comforting scent as you nuzzled your face in the crock of his neck. He went back to grading, and although you’d hoped being close to him would quench your need for him, you still didn’t feel satisfied. You wanted him closer.

You started grinding on him. The flimsy material of your sleeping shorts and cotton panties made it so you could feel his bulge stimulating your clit.

“I need you so bad, Sir.” You whimpered.

He groaned. You knew he could never resist when you moved against him and whimpered so sweetly in his ear.

“Would my dick in you make you feel better, princess?”

You nod.

He fumbled with his pants to get them open, pulling out his dick that was already hard from your grinding. You part your lips as you take him in your hand, smearing the leaking pre-cum on his tip.

He pushed your shorts and panties to the side. With two fingers, he ran them through your folds, groaning as he found you wet and ready for him.

Both of you forgot the initial plan as you touched one another until Bucky reminded you.

“Put it in, baby,” Bucky mumbled against your lips.

You lined his tip with your entrance and slowly sank onto his cock, wanting to feel every ridge and inch of him as he filled you up to perfection. You moaned in satisfaction and rolled your eyes as he was situated entirely in you. He sucked in a breath as your walls hugged him.

“So warm and tight for me, princess.”

You tried to move on him. Only getting in a few soft bounces before he stopped you and slammed you down on him again, making you cry out.

“Baby, be a good girl and let me work, yeah?” He caressed your cheek before he grabbed your chin. “I promise I’ll make it up to you once I’m done.”

You wanted to be a good girl for him, so you would try and be still as you snuggled into him once again.

He went back to grading the papers. It seemed like it didn’t phase him that he was buried deep inside your pussy, but for you, it was torture. So painfully pleasurable to have him nestled so deep inside you, tickling your sweet spot with the tip of him.

You tried your best to resist moving on him, but once he adjusted himself in the seat, it caused his cock to shift and hit your sweet spot perfectly, making you whimper at the stimulation.

Bucky pulled you closer with his hand on the small of your back, burying himself deeper, if that was even possible.

You tried to be sneaky with your movements. Starting with rocking so very slowly back and forth on him before you started to bounce up and down on his cock.

He slammed you down again as he grabbed the back of your neck, making you look at him.

“You really can’t sit still, huh?

“N-no, Sir.”

“Bad girl.”

He cleared some space on his desk before he sat you on top and rammed his cock hard inside you, making you cry and shut your eyes tight at his brutal move.

He harshly grabbed your jaw as he got all up in your face.

“I’m gonna show you what I do with bad girls that misbehave. You’ll wish you didn’t disobey me.”

Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

I don’t do taglists so please follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

[navybrat817]

Knock knock

Who’s there?

PROFESSOR BUCKY FUCKING BARNES THOTS ONLY 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

#RIPaquaspusspuss

Panty ruiner, Aqua! 🔥

Like Real People Do

Pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky decides to stop being professional and take what he wants.

Word Count: Over 1.3k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), age gap, slight power imbalance, swearing, possessive behavior, Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?).

A/N: I should be working on other things, but why not? Might be a thing. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by @rookthorne . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications and please reblog or comment as it means the world!

Bucky had seen his fair share of students during his career. Most didn't care about his lessons and he had to remind himself that it didn't matter becaus he loved teaching. His favorite part of teaching this year, however, is seeing you. Each class, you sat in the front row, paid attention and actively participated, and aced every quiz and exam.

He was certain you were trying to kill him.

Why else would you show up in dresses and skirts with stockings and heels? Why did you ignore the jocks and every other guy in class who tried to get your attention? And why did you hand in your assignments last and brush your fingers against his every single time?

His own personal temptress.

Bucky tried to be good. He was a professional, a man in his 30's. Sleeping with a student was a line he never thought about crossing, but you made it hard for him to think of anything else. Especially after you bent down to pick up the book you dropped after his last class and revealed your silk panties.

Were they as wet as he imagined?

Did you know he was staring?

"See you next class, professor."

"No," he said before he could stop himself. "See me in my office."

He had to put himself out of his misery.

Sitting across from him at his desk a few minutes later, he wasn't exactly sure what to say. He couldn't remember the last time he wanted someone as badly as you. How did a mere glance from you shake his confidence?

"Professor?" you asked, playing with the hem of your skirt.

He cleared his throat and loosened his tie. "Yes?"

"Why haven't you fucked me yet?"

Bucky was a dead man.

"Excuse me?" he asked because he was sure he hadn't heard you correctly.

"You heard me. You think I wear outfits like this for everyone? I caught you staring, so I kept wearing them," you smiled as you opened your legs, revealing your panties again. There was no mistaking the wet spot this time. "Like what you see? Or did I read this wrong?"

Bucky swore all the blood in his body rushed to his cock. His mouth watered as he stared, wondering how you'd taste on his tongue. He wanted to drown himself in you.

If he was going to hell, would it be wrong to have a bit of heaven?

"I'm sorry, professor," you said, quickly shutting your legs when he didn't speak. The certainty of the situation visibly left your body as you scrambled to get your bag. "I'm so sorry. I'll go."

He slowly stood up and placed his hands on his desk, needing to take back some control. You were offering yourself to him. He was going to selfishly indulge.

No, he couldn't let you leave.

Thankfully, he remembered to lock the door.

"I didn't say you could go," he said, leaning forward an inch when you froze. "Get your panties off and bend over my desk. Now."

Determination filled your eyes again as you smiled. "Yes, professor."

You had your breasts pressed against the desk as he stroked himself, his cock so hard it almost hurt. He could see the tremor in your body as he flipped your skirt up and spread your legs further apart, your ruined panties on the floor where you left them. He'd take his time with you later. But the groan of relief he let out when he slid home, his eyes fluttering shut at the feel of your wet walls around his cock, it had to be quick and dirty now.

"Fuck me," you begged, pushing your hips back when he stilled. "Please, professor.

"Bucky," he corrected you, smirking as he looked down to see you stretched around him. "I'm not just some professor, so you say my name when I fuck you."

"Bucky," you sighed when he began to thrust, holding on as he gripped your hips.

"Good girl," he praised, the sound of his name on your lips a sinful sound he wanted to hear again. "Fuck, your greedy cunt keeps sucking me back in. Tell me how good my cock feels."

You gasped as he pushed deeper, eagerly rocking back as much as you could. The way you squirmed, he knew you'd be a sight fucking yourself on his cock. He couldn't wait to watch your breasts bounce as you took all of him.

"Answer me," he practically growled, bringing his hand down on your ass. "Always such a good student. Don't be bad now."

"Feels so good," you whined, looking briefly over your shoulder before you pressed your cheek to the desk. "Touched myself thinking of you. Feels so much better."

"Touched yourself thinking of me? My dirty girl. I'm no better. Wanted to fuck you the first day," he grunted, bringing his hand down again. "Next class, don't wear any panties. You hear me? Your pussy belongs to me now."

Instead of putting himself out of his misery, he was becoming addicted.

You moaned as Bucky fucked you in earnest. "Yes, it's yours. I'm yours. Please!"

He leaned down, bringing a hand around to cover your mouth. "Be as loud as you want when I take you home," he grunted in your ear.

He never wanted to stop fucking you. Not with how good you felt. He was powerless to stop himself from driving deep inside you, your body made to sin with him. Maybe one day he'd fuck you before class so he could seep out of you, the boys around you none the wiser.

Consequences be damned.

Bucky kept his thrusts deep and steady when he felt your walls begin to flutter. With how wet you were, he hoped you dripped on his desk. "Gonna come for me, aren't you? You want me to come in you," he groaned, the desk creaking from his tough movements as he removed his hand.

"Come in me, please," you begged, your delicious moans filling the room again. His control started to slip away as you clenched harder around his cock. "I-I'm on the pill. Fill me up."

"Beg me for it," he demanded, if only for him to remember later when he jerked off.

"Please, Bucky."

A man could only take so much.

"Come."

You tipped over the edge as his hand smothered you again, your cry of his name muffled as you gushed around him. He helped you ride out your orgasm, praising you under your breath as he chased his end. He buried himself as deep as he could go as he came, your pussy still fluttering as he finished.

His heart pounded in his chest as he gently pulled out moments later, almost coming again at the sight of your mixed release leaking from you. "Fuck," he whispered, helping you upright and fixing your skirt.

Your legs shook as you turned slightly, blindly finding his lips with yours. He brought a hand up to your cheek to deepen the kiss. You were smiling.

That felt even better than the amazing sex the two of you just had.

"So, I didn't read this wrong?" you smiled wider.

"Not at all," he smiled, giving you another quick kiss before he fixed his pants. He cleared his throat as you straightened the rest of your clothes, suddenly worried that this was a one-time thing. "I hope this isn't too forward, but I do want to see you again."

"Too forward considering you fucked me on your desk?" you pointed out. "I want to see you again, too."

He sighed with happiness. "And I meant what I said. You can be as loud as you want when we're actually alone," he winked before his phone went off.

"Oh, I plan to be," you smirked, gesturing for him to get his phone.

He grabbed it and saw a message from Steve.

"Guess you didn't hear me outside of your office. You have fun?"

He scoffed, giving you another gentle smile as you grabbed your underwear, before he typed back. "I did. And I'm not sharing."

"Don't worry. I have my eye on my own student."

Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

[daliaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa]

why does his lap seem so comfortable?

[pinkiebieberpie]

shoutout to my bestie for giving me professor bucky idea - because that is beefy!professor!bucky 100%, to be more specific it's literature professor and he is the most romantic man you have ever met, i can picture him writing poems for you, reading you books out loud, always making you coffee in the morning before going to work... aah where can i get one?? and he looks fantastic in suits and sweaters and without clothes, obviously. he's a big boy.

bucky moodboards list

[bucky-barnes-lover]

Y'all, please.

If anybody reads or finds any Professor!Bucky x Wife!Student or Wife!Reader fics. I'm begging you, please tag me. I live and breath smutty Professor Barnes fics.

[cable-knit-sweater]

Someone write me an AU pls thank you

[aalyssah]

Extra Credit

Pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x Student!Reader

Warnings: Smut. Aftercare, Choking, Cursing, Deep Throat, Degradation, Face Fucking, Hair Pulling, Humiliation, Oral, (Bucky Receiving), Praise, Slapping, Spanking, and Unprotected Sex. Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 1,947

Summary: When you fail a test, you go to talk to your hot professor for some extra credit, but they have something else in mind.

A/N: I kinda like this one and I hope you do too. Hope You Enjoy!

You rushed to your class fast. You were 15 minutes late because you've been studying all night for a test in your 3rd period. This test counted 80% of your grade, so you wanted to make sure you passed.

You didn't realize that you studied until 5:23 AM and what made it worse is that you had to wake up at 6:00. You busted through the door of Mr.Barnes class, breathing heavily, making everyone's attention turn to you. "Ms.Y/L/N, you're late."

You went to your desk, bowing your head. "I know, I'm sorry, sir." Bucky looked at you up and down, taking in your outfit, but continued to teach. You sighed, putting your head down for a couple of seconds.

"Alright, take everything off your desk except a pencil and I'll pass your test out." Your head shot up fast, almost giving you a whiplash. 'What test?' You thought, panicking as Mr.Barnes came around with papers. He never said anything about a test.

He stood in front of you, placing a paper on your desk. "Make sure you all do your best! This counts for 70% of your grade." You felt as if you could pass out right then and there. Two big important tests in one day and you only studied for one.

Mr.Barnes sat down at his desk, typing on his computer while others took the test. You looked around the room, seeing others getting to work fast, while you were stuck with reading one word. You didn't know what to do, but you tried your best.

You remembered some answers to the questions, but half of the test was blank. "You have 10 minutes left." You shakily started choosing answers that sounded best to you. You were an all A student, so you couldn't afford a bad grade, but at the same time, anything is better than a zero.

"Times up!" Mr.Barnes got up and began collecting everyone's test. 'I think I did good!' Some girl behind you said with a smile, but you weren't smiling. You were upset. Upset because you know that you were gonna fail, but you would probably get at least a 60.

Everything will be alright. Or will it?

-

As Mr.Barnes graded the papers he gave everyone free time to do whatever, but you were stressed. Your leg was bouncing up and down, biting your nails, small noises coming out your mouth. The bell rang and everyone began to pack up.

You were in the middle of getting up when Mr.Barnes' voice stopped you. "Y/n, I need you to stay." You silently cursed under your breath as everyone left, leaving you and your Professor alone.

You gulped, putting your bag down and walking to his desk. "Yes Sir?" Barnes sighed, grabbing your test paper. "You failed your test badly." Your eyes almost bugged out your head as you saw the score.

45 written in red in the right hand corner. "Look, I don't know what's going on with you, but what happened to my A+ student?" You felt tears come to your eyes at the fact of your teacher scolding you. "S-sir, I'm-" Bucky held his hand up, stopping you from talking.

"If you want to graduate, you need to pass my class Y/n, and you're not showing that right now." You whimpered quietly at his scolding. "Please Sir, I'm sorry, I'll do anything just please don't fail me!" Bucky perked at the one word.

"You'll do anything?" You desperately nodded your head. "Yes, is there any way I can get extra credit? To boost my grade up." Bucky smirked, at your suggestion. "Yeah there is." Your mood rose at his agreement. "Okay, what is it?"

Bucky placed his lap on his lap. "You on your knees taking my cock down your throat and then letting me fuck you until you can't cum anymore." You froze, as a blush formed on your cheek. "W-what?" Bucky cut you off. "You heard me."

You stuttered to get words out your mouth. "But Sir that-" Mr.Barnes stopped you once more. "Call me Bucky, doll. Now get on your knees unless you don't want the extra credit." You closed your eyes, thinking about everything that could happen.

If you do it you'll have to live with the guilt, but if you don't your grade will go down. Next thing you knew, you were dropping down to your knees in front of him. "Good girl." Bucky brushed your hair from your face, bucking his hips forward.

"I'm sure you know what to do." Your hands shakily reached up for the belt on his suit pants. You slowly unbuckled it and pulled his pants down to his knees.

Just then you could see the bulge, threatening to bust out his underwear.

With the help of his hips up, you pulled his underwear down and almost whined at the sight.

He was big.

Bigger than any average man.

You gulped, looking up at him with wide eyes. "What? Never seen a cock this big before?" The teasing tone in his voice made you even more scared. You slowly began stroking him, watching as his piercing blue eyes looked down at you.

You finally took him in your mouth, cringing at the taste of his salty pre-cum in your mouth. You bobbed your head gently, taking him deep in your throat as you stroked whatever you couldn't fit.

You must've been going to slow for his liking because he started thrusting his hips up slowly, pushing his cock down your throat. You gagged, trying to pull off, but Bucky knew what you were doing and he was way faster than you. His hand fisted in your hair, pushing you down.

You felt as if you couldn't breathe as he fucked your throat, his cock hitting your uvula repeatedly. You found strength in you to push his hips back, taking all the air in your lungs. Just then, Bucky's hand balled in your hair, forcing you to look up at him. "Did I fucking say you could do that?"

You looked up at him with teary eyes. "Huh?" A slap was placed on your cheek as you shook your head. He dragged you to his desk, making you sit against it, with your back. "Push me one more time and see if I won't fail you." You whimpered at his threat.

"I'm gonna fuck your throat and you better not push me back. Not once." You didn't have a chance to say anything when his hands came to the side of your face. "Open, tongue out ." You complied, sticking your tongue out. He guided his cock to your mouth, pushing back until he settled in your mouth.

He started off slow, not wanting to dive in completely. When his cock hit the back of your throat, you choked, putting your hands on his thighs. "I don't wanna hear it. Relax your jaw." You took his advice and it made it way easier.

His pace increased as he grew used to it, legs spreader wide, and groans falling from his mouth. "Fuck, your mouth is so good." He praised, increasing his pace. Saliva coated his balls as they slapped against your chin. Your head hit the desk, causing things to fall off, but Bucky didn't care.

You hollow your cheeks around him, earning a grunt as he pulled back abruptly. "You tryna make me cum so fast?" He chuckled, picking you up and placing you on this desk.

"You still want your extra credit? If not, you're free to walk out and we'll never speak of this again." Without hesitation you nodded. "Of course you do, such a whore for your teacher." He pulled your skirt down, revealing your white panties with a small bow in the front.

He cursed under his breath, not knowing how long he was gonna last at the sight. And when he pulled your panties down, pray for him. There you were, legs spread on his desk, folds glistening on display. For him and only him. "Fuck, you look so good."

He rubbed his tip up and down your folds, teasing by pushing his tip in and out, moaning when you clenched around him. "Sir, I don't think that can fit." Bucky only laughed while shaking his head.

"Oh baby, you don't even know." He slowly pushed inside you, groaning at how tight you were. "Fuck, doll. No one ever fuck you?" You whimpered nodding your head while holding onto him. "Well they didn't do a good job if you're this tight."

Bucky gave you time to adjust to his size while he needed to adjust to you. You've never felt anything like this before. Your last boyfriend was nothing compared to Bucky.

He carefully rocked his hips in you, feeling like he was gonna die at how you were swallowing him whole. "Feel so good." You whined, clenching around him. You attempted to meet his thrust, which angered Bucky.

He pushed you down on your back, lifting a leg over his shoulders, hitting deeper with every thrust. "Harder, plea-" You cut yourself off with a moan when his hand came to your throat."You don't have a say in making demands." He squeezed down, almost cutting off all your air circulation.

He grunted as you scratched down his back when he hit your sweet spot. "Holy shit!" Bucky shook his head in shame, tsking. “For an innocent girl, you have a huge potty mouth. How would your Dad feel if he heard you using such words?"

His teasing had your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the thought of your Dad. You should be ashamed because he's a priest. A man working in the name of God, with a daughter with such vulnerable language.

"Oh God!" You sobbed as he pounded into you, hitting your spot every time. Bucky chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh doll, god can't save you now." You swear this man was gonna be the death of you.

He continued pounding you until you could think of what day it is. The sound of skin clapping and moans filling the room could be heard and to your surprise, no one has walked in yet. "Damn doll, you're clenching me so tight. Gonna cum?"

You nodded your head, feeling tears come to your eyes. His hand returned to your clit, rubbing slow circles on your sensitive bud. "All you gotta do is cum and the extra credit is all yours." You walls kept clenching around his cock, begging for release and when it did hit, you felt as if you were in heaven.

Bucky instantly leaned down into a kiss to quiet you down as your body shook and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Bucky let out a grunt as he came, painting your walls white. "Fuck."

He waited a couple of seconds to let you calm down and gently slipped out, making you whine. "Shh, it's okay. You did so good for me." He grabbed a couple of tissues and began wiping you clean. "I'm done. As you sat up, more things fell on the floor and papers stuck to your back from the sweat.

You took the papers off and hopped off the desk, only to fall straight on the floor. Bucky started laughing, a blush forming on your face. "H-help me, you did this to me!" Bucky helped you up and guided you to your backpack.

Before your hand touched the doorknob, Bucky called out, "Next time you need an extra credit, you know where to come."

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"The Carter Academy for Omega Excellence" Pt5

Rated: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: age gap, boarding school au, a/b/o, dub-con/non-con, spanking, feminization, dumbification, sexism, misogyny, prostate milking, discipline, D/s elements, hurt/comfort, mentions of past self-harm, predatory behavior, teacher/student, bathroom use control

Summary: Bucky's parents ship him off to Steve's reform school to help him get straightened out into a "proper young omega."

Part 5 - In Science-Based Practice, cont'd

(Wait! I haven't read a previous chapter! Masterlist)

Handing the Barnes kid off to Sharon is … more difficult than it should be. And it bothers Steve once he’s alone in his office again and can really think about it. How easily he’s crossed the line with this boy already. 

It’s not the touching or the dominating. That alone is nothing out of the ordinary, practically par for the course when dealing with a troubled new student. But as soon as Bucky’s gone, his scent still lingering in the room, Steve is feeling guilty for how personal he’d made it. It’s not even his behavior so much as it is his thoughts. Steve is affectionate with many of his omega charges, especially the more high needs boys, but it’s what was going on in his head that was so inappropriate. 

He’d been picturing Bucky in situations—namely situations with him. He can’t lie to himself that he hadn’t been imagining the heated aftermath of a well-deserved spanking: Bucky bare-assed and red faced, crying, crawling, mewling for permission to warm Steve’s cock. Or the boy in his bed: in the morning after a long night spent breeding him up, that sweet, soft body underneath Steve, sleepy and pliant, getting fucked lazily into the sheets …

He spends a moment at the door after he’s closed it behind Sharon and Bucky. That entire wall is dark woodwork, bookcases surrounding the elaborately carved doorway. He leans his weight through his arms and stares at the floor, taking in a few deep breaths and trying to convince himself that all of this has just been a reaction of circumstance. Surely, he thinks, it must have more to do with the divorce, with his heavy workload and his dealings with Peggy and the lawyers. It must have to do with all the stress; brought on by the restructuring of Carter Academy, by nights spent sleeping on his office couch, and by the uncertain future of a house that he’s currently persona non grata in. It’s all of that, plus his ever growing need to get laid that’s made him so sensitive to being around an omega, not anything particularly special about Bucky.

Steve pushes away from the door and turns around. His eyes fall on the discarded set of underwear on the floor in front of his desk. He tenses, belly swirling hard at the memory of that sweet little whimper Bucky had made when he’d lost control and wet himself. Fuck, it’d been amazing. Steve had almost popped a knot right then and there, watching the way the boy’s eyes had gotten all big and watery and confused, his cheeks pinked up so nicely, not fully understanding what his body had just done …

Nostrils flaring, Steve stalks over to where the underwear lie on the carpet and snatches them up, intending to chuck them straight into the bin. But … something stays his hand. He winds up walking around the desk with them, sitting down in his chair and holding them in his lap, staring at the tiny wet patch of release that Bucky left behind in the cup of the jock. It’s wet like urine but clear and sweet-smelling like slick, and Steve is struck by the urge to bury his face in it.

Even from this distance, the scent is noticeable; pungent and rich, an obscene perfume that Steve instinctively wants to rub on himself. It calls to all of his baser urges, making his skin feel hot and his dick feel heavy. Hesitatingly, because he knows that he shouldn’t, Steve lifts the underwear closer to his face. Halfway there and already the scent is enough to make his mouth water, his throat aching from a repressed growl. There’s something buried in that scent that Steve wants to tease out, something earthy and floral that’s uniquely Bucky, that promises so much more of what the omega has to offer. Steve groans quietly at the thought of tasting it. When was the last time a student released for him so easily? Bucky had responded to him so naturally …

He growls and shoves the soiled underwear away, pushing them halfway across the desk. It’s nothing, he thinks. He’s just pent up, stressed. He just needs to get laid. Maybe he’ll go into the city next weekend, rent a room and find some company. He’s never had much trouble chatting up the nearest person at a hotel bar, or attracting a willing partner to his bed. Omegas flock to him and have ever since he took control of his dominance in his late twenties.

Steve’s never been unfaithful to Peggy, and even now with the divorce, he’s been waiting until everything is finalized, not wanting to tarnish the vows that he’d meant so earnestly when he’d said them fourteen years ago. But an alpha his age has needs, and he’s been suppressing them for years. Maybe it’s time to cut himself some slack, call up a pairing agency and buy a companion for an hour or two. Get his mind off of this kid.

He’s dealt with thousands of students over the years, seen plenty of fresh-faced omegas pass through the school’s halls. And sure, sometimes there’ll be one or two that stick out in a given year; an especially defiant boy or a sweetly virginal girl, with beautiful faces, ripe young bodies, and a soul-deep yearning to be handled, but there’s never been one that especially stood out to him like this. Not like this. 

Steve groans and cards his hands through his hair in frustration. He’d felt more in-tune with himself as an alpha during that short time with Bucky in his office than he has in a long time. He’d enjoyed himself with Bucky, had indulged himself in provoking the boy’s reactions, and even crossed a few lines of propriety if he was being honest with himself. It plagues his mind for a while, as he leans back in the desk chair and frowns, remembering all of the various ways he’d let himself be a little too intimate with the boy. 

Bucky’s such a pretty young omega, and he’d smelled so good. Watching his defiance warring with his natural submissive urges had been delightful, every little twitch of insolence and natural, mewling submission going straight to Steve’s cock. There’s just something about him. He’s uncommonly beautiful, with his dark hair and soft chin and stormy blue eyes, but it’s his behavior that has Steve enthralled. 

All that hurt and neediness he’s trying so hard to hide, not only from others but from himself as well. A hastily cobbled-together shield of promiscuity and callousness. It’s pathetically see-through, terribly desperate, and it gets Steve’s cock harder than anything he’s dealt with recently. Right from the very first, bratty word that emanated from Bucky’s mouth, up until that last, puny whimper. Steve hasn’t been completely flaccid since the boy started mulishly snarfing scones off the tea tray in front of his parents.

“Christ.” He pushes out from the desk when he feels his pants growing uncomfortably tight again. His office has a private bathroom, and he abruptly decides to make use of it. He won’t get any work done if he just stays sitting here, stewing in his own pheromones. 

He stomps over there and shuts himself into the tiny water closet, leans against the door and jerks himself off ruthlessly, efficiently, coming into the toilet bowl with gritted teeth and a laboured grunt, his hand gripped viciously over the base of his shaft to prevent an inconvenient knotting. It’s unsatisfactory because he’s still denying his body what it really wants, but it’s enough to release most if not all of the tension for the moment. 

Not having been given their fair due, his balls still do kind of throb and ache in complaint as he tucks himself back into his slacks. But on the positive side, he was already so worked up when he started jerking it that he’s able to honestly say that he didn’t really think of Bucky while he was at it. He didn’t really think of anything besides the feeling of his own hand on his dick.

Sighing, he washes his hands and goes back out, settling in at his desk to submit the form he’s filled out on Bucky’s heats and to compose a preliminary assessment. Already, he thinks he’s got a good handle on where a lot of the boy’s issues stem from. He opens a new file for student assessment and types in a few points that he’ll return to elaborate on later, once he’s had more interaction with the boy:

“Boyfriend” + brief, insufficient pairing aged 14 — unfulfilled?: Abandonment complex, betrayal complex, trust issues.

Parental situation: lacking authoritative father figure, preoccupied beta mother, dominant unrelated male beta in the household. No healthy A-o relationship modeling.

Values: liberal school system, beta peers, common social expectations (not being a burden, not displaying strong needs, etc.) Emotional repression, mock-dominant behavior, cutting.

Review: history of suppressant use, medical exam

It’s a shorthand that he’s typed out for many other students, reflecting a devolving behavioral pattern that Steve could recognize in his sleep at this point. Just another classic example of what you get when you try to ideologize a pubertal omega out of their biological needs, urges and instincts: catastrophe. 

He hopes that Sharon will be a good fit for the boy. She’s one of the more laid back Handlers, and Steve is hoping she’ll be able to ease Bucky into his new lifestyle here at the school. If not, then more severe dominance will be needed, and Steve might have to take a more hands-on approach. 

He closes out the documentation on Bucky and navigates to his email, shooting off a message to the school nurse informing her that he needs an exam scheduled for a new student. Bucky being on suppressants for two years shouldn’t make Steve as uncomfortable as it does. There are omegas out there who take that poison for decades or more, after all. As long as Bucky stays off it from here on out, there should be minimal chance of long-term harm. Irrational as it is, Steve still knows he’ll feel better once he’s seen the results of a full medical workup on the boy. He marks the appointment request as 📨*Stat: urgent priority.

There’s a message from Schuyler & Banks—Peggy’s divorce lawyers—and rather than ignoring it like he wants to, Steve forces himself to open it and deal with whatever drama they’re lobbing his way now. The email informs him that his soon-to-be ex-wife is requesting his signature to agree to listing the house. Steve growls at the screen and immediately starts typing out a response that uses a lot of big words and essentially amounts to another adamant No.

This may be the biggest thing he and Peggy have fought over since the separation started. They bought the Pendergast Street house nearly ten years ago, with full intentions of growing old and grey there together. It’s a two hundred year old cottage, practically picturesque with its wattle and stone exterior, thatched straw roof, and one of the village’s canals running directly behind the back garden. It’s small and cramped and thoroughly lived-in, and it’s the place where Steve thought he’d spend the rest of his life with the person he loved. It kills him that Peggy wants to sell it. 

She doesn’t need the money, Steve thinks angrily. And he’s already offered her fair market value for it. Pegs is just being vindictive and trying to deny him the ability to keep the place and the memories it holds, bitter about Steve wanting to one day maybe have a family there with someone else. He emails his refusal on the matter and cc’s his own attourney, pissed off at Peggy all over again, and moves on to dealing with his actual work-related matters.

There’s an email from P. Potts, informing him that Stark will be flying in for the upcoming parents’ weekend, and requesting coordination on a suitable landing site for the man’s personal helicopter. Steve rolls his eyes and forwards the email to his secretary to sort out. If the Stark foundation didn’t give a hefty endowment to the academy each year, Steve wouldn’t put up with the man’s antics. But it does, so he does.

Peter Parker is an intelligent and precocious student who attends Carter Academy at Tony’s behest. The two are of no relation, as Steve had initially assumed. Rather, Parker is Stark’s ward and attends through a STEM scholarship program. The Stark foundation sponsors several such scholarship slots each year, of course; but Tony has maintained a keen eye on the boy’s education since he started there, and Steve has gradually become aware that the billionaire’s interest is … more than strictly philanthropic. 

It’s not unheard of for an older alpha to care for an omega that way, even in this day and age. Steve himself has considered the prospect before. Taking on an omega youth as a dependent partner wouldn’t be frowned upon, and especially not in the circles he himself travels in. It’s more his role as headmaster that might act as an impediment to propriety, and Steve has always been careful to avoid worrying the parents, alumni, and other various benefactors of the school that he may have any conflicts of interest with respect to their sons. 

Some of the most posh and exclusive families in Britain and Continental Europe send their children to Carter Academy, and they certainly aren’t dropping sixty grand a semester so that their children can be matched up with some stodgy academic. Steve may be educated and financially stable, but he still isn’t the sort of match that most of Carter Academy’s parents are looking to fix their sons up with. He has no vast fortune, no estate, no title, and—perhaps the biggest offense of all—he’s American. 

With a student body made up of nothing but omegas in their prime breeding years, it’s fair to say that Steve is—and always has been—surrounded by prospects for temptation each and every day. He’d honestly thought himself rather numb to it at this point, able to separate work from pleasure, students from everyone else. All those years married to Peggy and he simply had to be that way, if he wanted his marriage to work. 

But now he’s getting divorced. That changes things. With the Barnes boy, he’s finding the temptation to take on an omega mate newly rekindled. And Bucky would be so easy to mold and shape the way he wants. Steve could help him, he could care for him. Bucky’s young and healthy, he could give Steve pups, and his fiery temperament would only make the act of subduing him that much sweeter.

Steve’s eyes slide back over to the underwear on his desk, to the wet patch of release that Bucky’s body had given up so readily for him. Steve’s not sure when the last time was he came across an omega to whom he felt so naturally inclined. The draw of the boy’s scent alone is … considerable. 

Unable to get it out of his mind, he opens a new email and begins to compose a short letter to Tony. Maybe it’s time the two of them have a bit of a sit down chat. They can have drinks, catch up, review next year's endowments from the Stark Foundation, and perhaps even veer into discussing more personal topics … such as the intricacies of responsibly grooming impressionable young omegas.

Bucky doesn’t see Steve again for the rest of that day, and he’s both relieved and disappointed. 

Relieved, because he definitely needed a break from that high pressure situation. Naked or no, he certainly couldn’t have sustained much more interaction at that level of intensity. He’s not sure if he would’ve gone to his knees and face planted in Steve’s crotch first, or thrown a tantrum and tried to punch the guy square in the nuts, but he’s smart enough to know that either choice would’ve been a disaster. 

Disappointed, because he’s left feeling utterly bereft once all of that rich, heady stimulation is removed. 

It’s one of those times where he doesn’t realize that he likes something until he’s had it taken away. Instantly, he misses being in Steve’s presence, the realization peeling back as he’s led about by Sharon in a sort of informal orientation session. He wonders why Steve chose her to be his handler, because she’s not at all similar to the overbearing Headmaster.

Sharon seems really laid back and chill. Bucky doesn’t feel on edge or self-conscious around her, and she doesn’t seem to be overly concerned with his behavior in any outward way, either. Sure, she keeps her eye on him, she explains the rules, but the vibe Bucky gets from her is more like a slightly disinterested older sister who’s showing him the ropes, rather than someone who’s going to be exercising any kind of severe authority over him. It’s not that bad, or at least not like what Bucky was picturing it would be like. Sharon’s okay, he decides. Sharon he can live with.

But, if Steve truly thinks that Bucky needs so much structure and discipline or whatever, then Bucky can’t fathom why he’s been paired with Sharon. She’s certainly a poor substitute for the utterly dominating, older alpha male that Bucky encountered earlier, and he winds up distracted and reimagining the things Steve had said and done to him in the office, daydreaming about it while Sharon shows him the library, explains school rules, tells him she’s a low-protocol Handler, etc., etc. 

Even the things that’d made him so mad and humiliated at the time; now they elicit different feelings. Bucky’s body thrums hot and sensitive when he remembers the low rumble of Steve’s Voice, the woodsy smell of his cologne over top of his natural scent, the firmness of his thigh muscle against Bucky’s face, how big and rough his hand had looked when he’d cupped Bucky in between his legs and purred threats at him like another kind of oral sex … how he’d called him things, called him a “good girl” …

… Ohh, he thinks, as he’s walking along with Sharon. Maybe padded underwear and loose dresses aren’t the worst thing he could be wearing. They definitely do a lot to hide … reactions that would otherwise be quite noticeable in slacks. People joke about alpha teenagers getting unfortunate stiffies, but the thing about having an omega-sized prick is that there’s really no pushing it down or tucking it this way or that. Nothing between Bucky’s legs is ever gonna make it up to the helpful elastic of a waistband when he’s inconveniently aroused. Nope, he just gets a stiff length that pokes straight out from his body and can’t be concealed with anything short of a book in his lap. 

So the uniform winds up having a bit of a silver lining. And Bucky does start to feel less ridiculous the longer he goes around in the outfit. It’s not as though the thing is all frilly and girly or anything like that. In fact if it’s guilty of anything, it's the cardinal sin of frumpiness committed by all private school uniforms. Nobody bats an eye at him as he goes about the campus with Sharon, which helps. 

And of course Bucky’s aware that omegas dressed like this in the past, he’s just not used to it. The only other place he’s ever seen omega boys in skirts is in history textbooks or period dramas. It does help to see all the other first year students going about wearing the same thing as him and acting like it’s no big deal, and with the school being such an old, castley-type setting, it almost seems appropriate.

Plus, the boner-concealment thing. That’s good.

When Sharon asks him how he liked meeting “Headmaster Rogers,” Bucky’s left to bumble out a flustered reply that mostly consists of ‘ums’, and ‘erms’, and ‘fines’. Sharon shoots him a smirk like she knows what the problem is, and when Bucky promptly points to something random to change the subject, she indulges him.

It’s a good thing he got out of Steve’s office when he did, Bucky thinks. He doesn’t think he could’ve taken much more of the alpha’s domineering presence without doing something he’d come to regret. And as much as he’d maybesortakinda liked the things that Steve made him feel, he still feels like he’s run an emotional half-marathon in the span of little more than the hour he actually spent with the man. It’s good to have breathing room, time to think, to process … whatever the hell that’d been.

He’s never felt like how he felt in Steve’s office, and it’s embarrassing because he’s pretty sure that Steve: A) knows this, and B) wasn’t nearly so affected himself. Steve had kept his cool perfectly, had seemed more amused by Bucky’s reactions than anything else. He probably knows exactly how muzzy-headed Bucky was feeling by the end of it all, how hot and tight his belly was, how much his hole was pulsing and leaking into his underwear. Hell, Steve had as good as told him that he could tell, just by sight and smell alone. 

‘You don’t have to deny it, honey. I already know.’

Ugh. God. It’s so cringeworthy. Bucky’s body had betrayed him in about a half dozen ways, back in Steve’s office, and he feels frustrated that he didn’t act with more composure. He wants a redo of the whole, horrible encounter. One where he doesn’t act just like the desperate, mewling loser that Steve already thinks he is.

Sharon takes him to settle into his bedroom that evening, and it’s a typical dorm room setup: bed, bedside table, dresser, desk, chair. There’s a small wardrobe that’s stuffed to the brim with all sorts of extra blankets and pillows—for nesting, Sharon informs him. Bucky’s never been one to indulge in the habit, but maybe it could be nice to try it here. Maybe it might feel cozy. There are a lot of really nice things inside the wardrobe, to which he feels instinctively drawn when he drags his fingers over their soft and poofy textures. He actually starts to get mildly enthused: about the idea of nesting, and about the fact that he’s getting his own private room rather than having to share a communal dorm room with a dozen other boys like he’d been imagining … 

Until he spots the cameras that are up high in two of the bedroom’s corners, their little red lights blinking ominously down at him. Bucky stares up at them, calculating. The way they’re positioned …

Shit.

They cover every square inch of the room. Bucky’s heart sinks with dismay as he realizes what this means. 

“Oh, yeah,” Sharon says when she sees him looking. “We call those the nanny cams.” 

Bucky fights back a cringe. He hears Steve’s “no masturbation allowed” speech playing on a horrible loop in his mind as Sharon delivers a practiced spiel about how “privacy is not something students are entitled to” at Carter Academy, and that he’ll be monitored “pretty much everywhere” he goes.

Shit-fuck-shit and goddammit.

If Sharon notices his internal freak out, she doesn’t say anything. She just supervises from the doorway while Bucky changes for bed, ensuring that he puts on a fresh pair of the ridiculous double-underwear and reminding him of the no masturbation rule. It’s humiliating, and Bucky almost snaps something nasty at her, but by that point he’s so fucking tired from the overwhelming day he’s had that he merely grunts out an unhappy, “Got it.”

He briefly considers asking her if she’ll “milk” him like Steve said he could, but his embarrassment gets the better of him and he just turns to lie facing the wall instead, pulling the blankets up to his chin and ignoring Sharon as she turns the lights off and bids him goodnight from the doorway. There is no door for her to close.

-

Bucky sleeps surprisingly well, though his dreams are intense and filled with a certain Alpha Headmaster. He wakes the next day to the unpleasant combination of a morning erection, and Sharon rapping her knuckles on his bedside table.

“Morning! Time to get up, get dressed. Breakfast in ten minutes!”

She escorts him around campus like the world’s most overpaid babysitter, first to the dining hall for breakfast and then to class after that. She seems to understand that Bucky isn’t at all happy to be there, so she doesn’t get overly bossy with him or try to force much conversation. Bucky begrudgingly appreciates her for it, and he starts to think that maybe it won’t be so bad here with her as his Handler. Maybe Steve knew what he was doing, assigning them together.

Sharon’s like having an older sister—one who feels free to nag you and boss you around. Bucky thinks he can deal with that. She’s kinda hot at least, and Bucky doesn’t think he’d mind being bent over and milked by her if push came to shove, so he tries to get along to go along, so to speak, doing his best to follow the rules she points out and to not piss her off too early in the game.

The Handlers are all grad students, it turns out. People in their twenties who are studying to become educators or therapists themselves. Some are women, some are men, but all of them are alpha. They go around in stuffy tweed suits that are almost as dorky as the outfit Bucky’s being forced to wear. Overall the look is pretty unremarkable … except for the leashes that they keep on hand. Those are worn at the hip, rolled up and attached to their belts as a constant threat to keep their charges in line. 

Or at least that’s how Bucky reads it, because all of the students wear collars. First years like him wear the orangish-brown, with the gradient of the leather turning a shade lighter for every year up the wearer is. There are other first years who seem to be his age, but there are also some who seem younger and some who are obviously older. Bucky’s confused about it until Sharon explains to him that, as a reform school, Carter Academy sorts its students by years of attendance, not by age. 

She points out the coloring system with the collars as they pass different students, and explains the symbolism. Turns out, the little metal placards aren’t engraved with their own names, but rather with the initials “S.G.R.”—Steve’s initials—to remind the students that while they’re under the custody of Carter Academy, Steve is their acting Alpha. Mortifyingly, Bucky pops a boner the first time he hears that, and the only verbal thing he’s able to squeak out at Sharon afterwards is a strangled little, “W-what does the ‘G’ stand for?”

Bucky knows super conservative people sometimes wear collars as a sort of political statement, but it’s rare to see in the area where he’s from. At first it doesn’t seem like the collars serve much purpose other than such a statement, but it isn’t long until Bucky starts noticing the way his shoulders untense and his insides relax, even within the first ten minutes or so of wearing it. Every time he swallows, he’s reminded of the band around his throat, and he instantly relaxes all over again in a sort of weird little feedback loop. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that it’s the way the leather mimics the sensation of a Hold. Bucky can still remember how his legs had all but gone to jelly when Steve Held him in his office. The collar only provides a fraction of a fraction of that feeling, but it’s still nice.

Nice for now, anyways. He sees some of the other students being led around from place to place with their Handlers’ leashes clipped to their collars. Most of them act like it’s no big deal and walk around calmly like nothing’s amiss. When Bucky asks if they’re being punished for something, Sharon says no, blithely remarking that while it can be used as a ‘consequence’, it’s more often just a part of some students’ regular wellness regimens. 

It’s pretty darn easy to spot the few students who are being led around on leashes for punishment purposes, though. Those boys get dragged around a little more sternly by their Handlers, all sullen expressions and watery eyes. Sometimes they’ve also been made to go around in just their underwear and sweaters, or even naked, their backsides visibly pinked or even bruised from recent spankings. Bucky is horrified by the realization that Steve wasn’t lying when he warned of clothing privileges being taken away. He wants to ask what on earth might warrant a punishment like that, just so that he knows precisely what not to do, but he’s too embarassed to ask. 

Instead he trails after Sharon to breakfast in the dining hall, and then off to his morning classes. Given that his entire schedule has apparently been made without an iota of his own opinion or input, he’s surprised, bordering-on-startled, when his first subject of the day turns out to be English Lit. And he’s been put in an advanced placement class so that the material is sufficiently challenging. 

This must be what his old Principal was making him take all that testing for, he thinks. 

The classrooms all have wooden desks—the old fashioned, two seater types where the student’s seat faces the worktop and the tutor’s seat faces the opposite direction on the side. The Handlers sit in the tutor’s seats, their backs to the teacher at the front of the classroom and all of their attention on their assigned students. It’s a very intense experience, Bucky’s coming to realize, to always feel like he’s being watched so closely. He won’t be able to get away with much under these conditions, that’s for sure.

His mood isn’t too bad, however, as he makes it through that first class and realizes that he’s actually going to be receiving a real education at this place. Ever since he found out yesterday that Carter Academy was an omegas-only reform school, he hasn’t held high hopes that he’d be taught many real academic subjects, only silly homemaking lessons and child rearing classes and maybe, like, ballroom dancing or something.

So he’s quite happy to pay attention in English Lit, and then in his second period class of French 2, his spirits slowly and cautiously lifting because the teachers don’t seem to be dumbing down the material at all. Bucky may be someone who’s easily distracted, occasionally with alternative priorities, but he’s always been an A-B student. He starts to believe that he might actually receive a decent education at this place. It helps lift his mood from sullen and sour, to cautiously optimistic.

He goes about the morning in a suspended state of “maybe this won’t be so bad,” only for it to come crashing down in a series of brutal reality checks. And all before lunchtime, too.

First, he witnesses something that turns his face red and his cock rigid. It happens when he and Sharon are walking down the hallway towards his next class. There’s a boy bent over with his hands on a bench, and his Handler is right behind: spanking him. The boy’s a first year, with an orange-brown collar and skirted uniform like Bucky’s, the hemline of which is flipped up over his back and his briefs are pulled down under the curve of his bare ass. 

Bucky realizes that the jockstraps can and do remain on for spanking activities, but he doesn’t stop walking to look. If anything, he walks even faster to get away from it. He’s suddenly very glad that he’s got his own padded jock on to hide his body’s reaction to the scene. “What the hell?” he mutters to Sharon once they’ve passed. Sharon just smirks and pats him on the shoulder, telling him not to worry: they’ve been having great luck with his behavior so far and he’s far off from earning anything like a spanking.

-

Well. That luck runs out when, halfway through the lesson of his next class, Bucky realizes he has to go to the bathroom. He glances over at Sharon and whispers, “Hey. I ah, I have to go to the bathroom.”

Sharon raises her eyebrow, which by now Bucky knows means: Ask me the right way. 

He blushes and mumbles even more quietly, “Please, may I go use the restroom?” 

Sharon nods and signals to the teacher that they’re leaving, then she guides Bucky out into the hallway and down to the bathrooms. Nothing goes awry until they get down there and Bucky discovers that: 1) there are no urinals, 2) there are no stall doors, 3) he’s expected to sit to pee, and 4) that Sharon is fully planning to watch him do it. Like, not even avert-her-eyes type watching like they do for drug tests. She plans to stand there and attentively watch him take a piss.

“You’re kidding,” Bucky says, looking back and forth between the toilet and Sharon, as if she’ll suddenly declare it a joke and move away to give him privacy. When she does no such thing and merely stands there with her arms crossed, Bucky scoffs and turns away from the toilet in refusal. “No way. I’m not just gonna go in front of you.” Sharon’s eyebrow rises, and Bucky’s eyes narrow into slits. “And I don’t sit to pee.”

“You do now,” she tells him plainly, looking very unimpressed. When Bucky moves to step out of the stall, she widens her stance and steps in closer, blocking his way out. “Are we going to have a problem here, James?”

Bucky glowers at her. “What possible reason could there be for you to stand there and watch me take a piss?!” he demands—quite loudly, too. He’s expecting Sharon to react by scolding him or grabbing him or something. What he doesn’t expect is for her to shrug as if she couldn’t give a crap, and pull out her cellphone. She taps the screen and then puts it to her ear, her eyes fixed smugly on Bucky as she calls someone.

Bucky scowls, but that expression slides right off his face when the call is answered and Sharon says, “Hello Headmaster,” into the phone. “You said to call if we ran into any misbehavior?”

Bucky blanches. “Seriously?” he hisses, and when Sharon simpers like a grade-A snot at him, he realizes that this is actually probably still what having an older sister is really like; he was just romanticizing the fuck out of it, earlier. Bucky’s always liked being an only child. 

“Yes, Sir. I’ve got James Barnes refusing bathroom protocol up at the west second floor loo. Should I handle it, or are you able to swing by?” Bucky’s eyes widen and his stomach sinks even further as Sharon responds to something Steve has said over the line and says, “Okay, sure. See you soon.” She ends the call and puts her phone back in her pocket, giving Bucky a patronizing smile once she meets his—no doubt horrified—expression. “Just hang tight,” she says. “Headmaster Rogers will be here in a sec.”

Fuck.

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Square O4: Floral scents

[lethallyprotected]

Good Girl (part 1)

PROFESSOR!BUCKY X READER

minors dni, no serious warning except public masturbation and tiny speck of smut

She stumbled outside the class tripping over thin air right as she collided with a strong hard chest when two soft hands circled around her waist to stop her from falling.

“I’m sorry I’m so sorry” she muttered looking up at a pair of cloudy grey eyes, her heart racing as she felt her body freeze.

 “uh” the mystery brunette started but hung his head down making his hair brush y/n’s nose. She closed her eyes scrunching her nose up when heat rushed to her cheeks noticing the close proximity, they were in.

The mystery brunette let go of her his cheeks tinged a darker shade of pink as he coughed “it’s okay, be on time from now on”

As the words left his mouth all the cliché enticed feelings left her body and her eyebrows shot up in anger “and who are you to tell me that”

Smirking he took a step forward and straightened his back “Bucky Barnes, your psychology professor…... doll” he said leaving the girl flushed outside the classroom.

“….and that is what the branches of psychology are” said Bucky’s thick masculine voice as his eyes looked right past y/n’s

All the while y/n kept staring at the clock trying to make sense of what happened outside she had felt the tension between them or maybe she was just imagining it in fact he hasn’t even looked at her ever since class started not even once, maybe he’s keeping his façade up said the tiny devil sitting on her shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes imagining bucky bending her over his desk and thrusting his thick cock deep into her cunt “take my fucking cock my dirty little slut, yes fucking your professor aren’t ya” “my dirty cumslut” Bucky groans into her right ear, his swollen cock grinding wetly against the swell of her naked ass placing open mouthed kisses on her neck.

Desperate for some release she slipped her hand in her panties looking right at bucky while she touched her swollen clit.

Not being able to help the tiny gasp that escaped her mouth she bit her bottom lip her eyes rolling to the back of her head and her body loosened like she was melting wax under a raging flame.

As the sudden sound of the bell ripped through the air her eyes shot open staring at the darkened eyes of bucky staring right at her.

“Miss y/l/n I want you to stay back after class”

Fear ran through her body as she tears made their way to her cheeks how could she be stupid enough to touch herself in class she was going to get suspended and there was no future for her anymore.

“sir I’m so so sorry I promise it won’t ever happen agai-“  before she could finish Bucky’s mouth was on hers, Maybe time stopped when his lips met hers, but the flutter only intensified. y/n’s  heart pounded in her chest as her knees got weaker. She could only focus on how soft he felt against her mouth, how addictively he invaded all her senses. It still wasn’t clear if she dreamed this moment to life, but there was raw emotion in the way his fingers curled around hers. His wet tongue nudged her bottom lip as she parted her mouth letting him attack her mouth slowly feeling her cunt dripping with pleasure she groaned grinding against his bulge which resulted in a mind numbing groan from him. “You’re gonna be the death of me princess, but I wan ya to be punished for the stunt you pulled in class first” he said sitting back in his chair and motioning her to come forward.

She tilted her head looking confused as she tried to sit on his lap “not so soon princess wan ya to put your pretty mouth on my cock while I talk to steve” her eyes widened as she obeyed sitting down making him grin “good girl”

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

Tension

Pairing || CollegeProfessor!Bucky x Student!Female!Reader

Summary || Professor Barnes would like to see you in his office…

Word Count || 1915

Contents & Warnings || Smut — [N]SFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, [e]xplicit content/language, undefined age-gap, professor x student relationship, Professor/Sir [k]ink, [t]easing, [t]ouching, [f]ingering, mention of bodily fluids.

Disclaimer 1 || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Disclaimer 2 || Do you find the use of [ ] throughout my fics annoying/distracting? You can also read this story on AO3 and Wattpad! But remember to come back to this post and reblog to show support! I would appreciate it if you left a Kudos on AO3 and a Vote on Wattpad! And a comment as well on whichever platform you decide to read on :) I must apologize for this workaround! Thank you for being kind and patient! And for the continued support <3

Professor!Bucky Masterlist

Whenever Professor Barnes called you into his office, it was not to discuss your ongoing assignment, but rather for some mind-blowing and secretive [s]ex.

You expected him to wait for you right by the door when you walked in, as he usually did—pushing you up against it, trapping your hands above your head, while locking the door with his other. His [l]ips would quickly find yours in a hurried and desperate [k]iss before moving you over to his desk—[b]ending you over, lifting your [s]kirt, and [f]ucking you [h]ard into the mahogany wood.

But no. That was not the case this time.

This time, as you entered, the was no ambush. No riveting [t]ouches or intoxicating [k]isses. Instead, he was seated at his desk, scribbling away on some papers.

He lifted his head as the door opened. The thin line between his [l]ips curved upwards into a bright smile once he saw who it was.

“Hey,” he greeted cheerfully. “Lock the door and come on in.”

You can’t deny that you were disappointed at the lack of special attention as you walked to his desk and stood opposite where he was seated, fiddling with your [f]ingers and looking nervously at your feet. Maybe he actually just wanted to discuss your assignment this time—be a teacher to his student instead of secretive [l]overs.

“Professor,” you greeted casually, “you called me to your office for…?” You tried to keep your voice normal—masking the disappointment and confusion in your tone.

He reached his hand out to you across the desk with an encouraging smile. So this was more than just a teacher-student moment after all.

You hesitated for a second, but placed yours in his nonetheless, and you felt a surge of electricity spread through your nerves as you [t]ouched [s]kin. His thumb brushed the back of your hand, and your heart fluttered at the affectionate contact. His eyes sparkled behind the black-framed glasses as he gazed into yours, which made you feel at ease.

“Just wanted your company while I work. I hope you don’t mind, Darling.”

An unusual request from him. It was not something he’d ever asked of you. Your relationship was either; [h]ard and [d]irty [f]ucking, or, on rare occasions, actually discussing assignments and academic work. But this request was somewhere in between, and you didn’t mind at all. You were just happy to be in his presence and that he wanted you with him.

“Of course not,” you reassured and squeezed his hand before stepping to his side of the desk.

His eyes widened behind the glasses when you stood beside him. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before on several occasions. The [t]high-[h]igh socks, the short [l]ittle [s]kirt, and the [t]ight long-sleeve shirt—a [s]choolgirl fantasy come to life.

He had gazed and [l]usted for you over it in the morning lecture today, as he did most classes, and he definitely noticed when you walked into his office just now. But having you this close in that [c]ock [t]easing outfit was challenging. He wanted to reach out and [t]ouch you [s]eductively all over. He wanted to hoist you on his desk and [f]uck you like the [n]aughty [g]irl you were for [t]easing him. But he kept himself composed and smiled at you sweetly again.

You noticed the shift in his behavior but pretended like you were completely oblivious to the [a]lluring impact you had on him as you sat on top of his desk, [l]egs crossed, right beside the papers he was grading.

It would be so easy for him to reach out to [t]ouch and [c]aress your [t]empting [s]kin. It was so close. He could practically feel the [s]oft texture of your [t]highs on his fingertips. But again, he held back. Shaking his head mentally before gripping the pen tightly with his tense and [n]eedy [f]ingers, before burying his head into the papers again, scribbling away.

You failed at hiding your satisfied [s]mirk as you picked up a random book from his desk and pretended to be engrossed in the words. But in reality, all your consciousness was on him, and his was on you.

Although this could have been a sweet moment between you and him where you just appreciated each other’s presence and silence, the [s]exual tension in the office was almost suffocating. So strong that it invaded all your senses and manifested itself so deep in your core, making you [n]eedy for him beyond belief.

He pretended to be engaged in his work, but you could tell from his mannerisms how uneasy he was as well. The [f]ingers holding the pen twitched, making his handwriting lose its finesse. His leg anxiously bounced up and down, making his chair shake.

And you could see out of your peripheral that he was ever so often eyeing you out. Trailing his darkening eyes from your [d]angling [f]eet, up your covered [c]alves, before settling on your [l]uscious [t]highs. Lingering his gaze on your [e]xposed surface for a moment and [s]ucking in a low breath at the mouthwatering [s]kin. He continued his journey upwards towards your [c]lothed [b]reasts. Spending the same amount of time eyeing them up—the [t]ight top hugged your [c]hest to perfection.

He found this [s]exual tension just as riveting as you. Although he wanted nothing more than to give in and toss his papers on the floor, bend you over the desk, and make you scream and [c]ome in his office, he wanted the tension to reach the breaking point, knowing how explosive the outcome would be.

And after about 10 minutes, you reached that breaking point. The tension had become completely unbearable, and you were ready for the outcome of yours and his touchless and nonverbal [t]easing.

Placing the book back in its place, you leaned back on your palms, pushing your [c]hest out and uncrossing your [l]egs, allowing you to play.

You dragged the hem of your [s]hort [s]kirt up your [t]high. His eyes, which were already fixated on you, got a glimpse of your cotton [p]anties. The material was already damp with need and [d]esire for him. His eyes grew wide and darkened upon the sight. And he swallowed thickly.

You hummed softly as you dragged your [f]ingers through your covered [w]etness—paying close attention to your deprived [cl]it, circling the aching nerve.

“Please, Professor,” you mewled as you fussed on his desk, “[t]ouch me.” You wanted, needed, for him to [t]ouch you like only he knew best. Only he knew how to make you truly satisfied.

His gaze lifted up to you, and he could see the outright pleading expression on your face—frustrated with need and longing for him.

He gripped the pen tightly with one hand, and the other clenched into a fist in his lap, resisting the [t]emptation again to [t]ouch you, but this time was for good reason. He wanted, needed, to hear more of your sweet and soft pleas for him. He wouldn’t give in to you so easily.

And you could tell by the growing [s]mirk on his face that those were the exact thoughts running through his head, so you had to step up your game and play even harder.

“Please, Professor,” you practically whined, almost sounding pathetic with need. “I need you to [t]ouch me.” You [a]rched your [b]ack and thrust your [h]ips forward, hoping it would convey how [d]esperate you were at this point.

He let out a chuckle at your [d]esperation, but decided that you’d been good enough, so he would give you what you [d]esired, at least to some extent. He placed his warm palm on your [t]high, digging his [f]ingers into your [d]elicate [s]kin.

The [t]ouch was [h]ot and electrifying, satisfying beyond belief, and you couldn’t help but [m]oan softly as he made contact. But you needed more, needed for him to just reach a little bit higher to [t]ouch, [c]aress, and play with your aching [s]ex. But it still didn’t seem like he would give in entirely.

“Please, [t]ouch me, Sir.”

He found it riveting to watch you fall apart at such a simple [t]ouch, still yearning and pleading for more. And if he could, he would continue to [t]ease you, loving the whining mess you became when he did, but he could tell that you were on the verge of a breakdown.

“You didn’t tell me how to [t]ouch you, [s]weetheart.”

You huffed in annoyance and took his hand in yours, done with the [t]easing and playing, and guided his hand further up and lay it flat against your [c]overed core. He groaned deeply as he felt you. Felt you pulse against his palm. Felt the dampness of the material. And that’s when he reached his breaking point.

The next part happened so fast.

He pushed the chair back, legs scraping across the floor. Definitely loud enough for someone walking outside the office to hear. He was up from the chair in a flash, towering over your sitting form. With one hand, he pushed your [t]highs apart and stepped between them. The other hand grasped the back of your [n]eck firmly, making you gasp loudly. All your attention was on him now—waiting for the explosion that he would make of you.

He took his [g]lasses off, and you knew it was serious business when he did that, making you emit a [n]eedy approval that you were finally going to get what you [d]esired.

He [g]roaned deeply as he lightly brushed his [l]ips with yours. The bass of the sound rumbled in his [t]hroat, making your [c]lit flutter in excitement at the [e]rotic music. His eyes were now dark with [l]ust—no more sweet Professor.

“Tell me again what you want, [s]weetheart.” His tone was mocking and cruel because he knew exactly what you wanted, but he needed to hear you say it one more time.

“I-I want you t-to t-[t]ouch me,” you mumbled in a breathless [m]oan. You were losing focus and started slipping into the world of [p]leasure as he pushed your [p]anties to the side, lightly brushing your [s]lick [f]olds with his [f]ingertips. “[F]uck, Sir, please,” you pleaded again as your eyelids fluttered.

He chuckled at how sensitive you were at such a simple [c]aress, and he couldn’t wait any longer to have his entire force on you, knowing how insane it would make you.

So he brought the [f]ingers up to his [l]ips and [s]ucked them, [m]oaning at the [t]aste of you on his [f]ingertips, before bringing them down again to your deprived [s]ex. His mess mixed with yours, making his [f]ingers rub against your [s]lick and [n]eedy [f]olds in an effortless manner, paying close attention to your [c]lit.

The [m]oan of relief and satisfaction you let out once he finally [t]ouched you was blaring, and you bit your [l]ip, drawing [b]lood, to keep your [w]hines, cries, and [m]oans at bay. It was still business hours, and the campus was still bustling with students and teachers in every hall.

“Is this what you wanted, [s]weetheart? For me to [t]ouch this [n]eedy [l]ittle [p]ussy of yours, huh?”

“Y-yes, Professor,” you [c]hoked out as you thrust your [h]ips into his [f]ingers, desperate for him to go further, knowing that he had more to give.

And without needing to [b]eg much more, he pushed two digits into your entrance—fitting inside of you to [p]erfection and making you [f]eel whole and truly satisfied.

“I’ll make you [c]ome so good, [s]weetheart. So [f]ucking good….”

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

Follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

Apologies for the [ ] on some words! I’m testing it out to see if I can evade getting a Label put on this.

[daliaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa]

"Professor, I didn't understand this very well. Can I come to your office later, please? "😈

[geminijade]

Smart is Sexy 🥵🔥

[pinkiebieberpie]

today i'm thinking about dark academia aesthetic and darkmagic!professor!bucky - it's not unusual that professors have an intimate relationships with their students in dark academia, it's exciting, magic makes everything more and more passionate; now let's talk about bucky - he's big and he knows how to make you lose your mind, it's even easier with magic; he is kinky and he will try anything with you, just name it... ++ would 100% choke you and spit in your mouth

bucky moodboards list

[littlemissidontcare]

I wanna see Seb’s face when he comes 🚨 SORRY NOT SORRY DIRTY MIND ALERT 🚨 // may i present these beautiful, sexy gifs? they give... good ideas about how he might be looking like when he comes if not the real thing 👀

If you listen to Professor Cal, he sounds so much like Seb that it’s scary. Also, everyone should listen to him because how he moans when he comes is exactly what I would imagine from Sebastian 🥵

[dreamlessinparis]

Take the Wheel

Pairing: TJ Hammond x F!Professor!Reader

Word Count: 2185

Summary: End of exams and instead of partying with his friends, Tj wants to spend extra time with his Professor.

Warning: explicit sexual content, dom/sub dynamics, bondage, age gap (TJ’s in his early twenties, Reader in her mid thirties), drinking, use of a feather duster, ball gag, nicknames, teasing, mentions of frat parties, cumplay, oral (f receiving), fluff, domme reader, sub TJ, explicit language, praise, 

A/N: This is my submission for @musingsinmoonlight‘s challenge, and my prompt was “They tried to warn me about you, but I didn't listen,you know." This is the first time I’ve done this type of dynamic so I’m a little nervous. Thank you to @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog for reading it over for me. All mistakes are my own.  Another huge thank you to the always brilliant @sweeterthanthis for planting this idea in my head❤️

if you’re a minor, please DNI!

Please do not repost, publish or translate my work. Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Thank you for reading :)

The bar was packed, which didn't surprise you. It was Friday night after all, and exams were finally over. So celebrations were ample and loud. You sipped your dirty martini as you surveyed the crowd. This was just a pregame spot for these students, heading afterwards to the massive parties spread out on Greek row.

This was your favorite time of year. Everyone was in the best spirits. With even lower inhibitions. You had a bit of a track record with students,one you were slightly proud of. It was fun though; none of them ever wanted commitment, just a way to blow off some steam. One you were happy to provide.

A loud hollar shifted your attention to the group of men by the dart boards. TJ Hammond and his friends were having a blast playing darts and chugging back beers. You were sure their rambunctious tones were to attract the group of pretty sorority girls. From here, it looked like it was clearly working. You smiled to yourself, turning back to the bar to ask for another drink. The bartender was an attractive man, a bit old for your taste but you wouldn't mind taking him home tonight.

“Fancy seeing you here, Professor," A voice came up beside you. TJ stood, leaning against the counter, eyeing you. He looked you up and down lingering on your bare legs. You crossed them purposefully, knowing your skirt rose a bit with the movement. Those pretty blue eyes grew darker.

“Can't say I'm surprised to see you here, TJ.” you smiled at him, "Although I figured you'd be celebrating the end of exams at some big frat party."

He nodded, taking a slow sip of his beer, "That's the plan. Just finding some dates first." He pointed towards the ladies with the beer bottle. You glanced your shoulder to see that his friends had made a move and were now seated with them. 

“Ah, looks like you're already good to go." 

“Seems that way. None of them really has my eye, you know?”

“Oh really? That's the worst," you took a sip of the martini that the bartender placed before you, winking at him. 

He nodded, looking between you and the bartender, "And you, Professor, anyone caught your eye?"

Your eyes snapped, and saw him looking at you with a heat in his exes that had you

squeezing your thighs together . "I don't know." you said coyly, “I don't think I'll be leaving alone but no one yet."

“Too bad," TJ said, taking a step closer, "I'd love to take you back to my place for coffee." 

“Coffee, huh?” The two of you seeming to gravitate. towards each other, " Coffee sounds good." 

~

You rounded the bed slowly enjoying the way TJ laid tied up on the sheets. Your fingers trailing up his leg, getting closer to his cock with the feather duster, lightly brushing over it. With the ceiling fan on, you knew the feeling was even more intense. It had been well over an hour since you’d started teasing him and he looked ready to break. You pulled away, letting the duster feather over his torso.

TJ bucked his hips, pleading with his eyes. Those perfect pink lips wrapped around the ball gag, restraining him from begging. You were tempted to take it off him and ride his face. But you hadn’t had your fun yet.

“Don't misbehave, bunny. I wouldn't want to have to punish you.” You warned. Untying your silk robe, you let it fall to the ground, exposing your naked body. TJ's eyes bulged out, and his hands tugged at the cuffs, trying to get free. You could tell he wanted to touch you and it'd be a lie if you said you weren't also getting impatient.

You climbed up until you were straddling his thighs, and began slowly running your fingers down his chest. "You looked so pretty, all tied up like this, handsome. Do you like it? Letting me be in control?" You dug your nails a bit harder and reveled in how his cock twitched. TJ nodded, trying to say something but the sound was muffled.

You circled a fingertip around his nipple before giving it a hard flick. The way his body responded to you was thrilling. You grinded your hips down, the head of his cock brushing over your swollen clit. You kept your eyes on his face as you continued rolling your hips, slowly coating his cock with slick. Pleasure was apparent on his face. His eyes squeezing tightly shut and you saw the slight trembling in his body, almost like he was trying to behave. Trying not to buck his hips.

You lifted up off him and he slumped down, defeated. TJ opened his eyes, glancing up at you. Watching as you gathered some of the spit pooling from the gag and used it to rub your folds. "Such a good boy. Letting me do as I please with you. I think you deserve a reward.”

His eyes lit up with a hungry anticipation, darkening further when you stroked his cock a couple times. Lining yourself, you lowered onto him. You bit your lip, moaning as he filled you up. It had been a long time since anyone had felt so good.

It didn't surprise you though, especially with all the rumors that circulated around campus about TJ's prowess. You were almost upset that it took you so long to find out for yourself. Maybe he would make you break your own rule and meet up with him again.

You rolled your lower half until your hips met his. Your nails raked down his slender, sinewy torso and back up. Part of you wanted to hear his pretty noises but another part loved how he looked with his mouth full.

Leaning down, you brushed the tip of his nose with yours. The way he was peering up at you , made your stomach flutter. You felt unease but you couldn't tear your eyes away either.

"Do you wanna talk, bunny? Should I take this off you?” You tapped against the red silicone ball. TJ nodded, pleading with those beautiful cerulean eyes.

You smiled, stroking his cheek, trailing down to his throat. Gauging his reaction, you tightened your hold, his cock twitched and he shut his eyes in a silent moan. You found a good grip, choking him as you rolled your hips faster. It was crazy how quickly you were approaching your first climax. "Oh fuck TJ, you feel so good." Reaching down between your bodies to frantically rub your clit. "Ah right there. Oh,oh,oh yes!"

Fireworks exploded in your vision as you came, your body on autopilot as you kept going. TJ's eyes were squeezed shut, enjoying the way you were milking him. Your chest heaved, slowly coming down. "No cumming." You warned, twisting one of his nipples. He seemed to enjoy pain, moaning around the gag.

Leaning forward, you finally took it off. He took a moment, stretching out his jaw. Your fingertips helped massage along his sore muscles. "I never knew that I liked this stuff.”

"This stuff?" you asked, cocking an eyebrow. 

"All this," he said, gesturing with his hand to the best of his ability, "The rope, the teasing, the lack of control. I like you making me feel good." 

“Do you feel safe?” 

"Completely. They tried to warn me about you, but I didn’t listen, you know. I knew it’d be worth it.”

"Of course, handsome. Good boys deserve to come,” You leaned in, kissing the tip of his nose. He shifted, catching your lips in a heated kiss. You fell forward, your body weight pressing on him. He wanted to touch you, by the way his hands were clenching and unclenching. Giving him a couple more kisses and he relaxed beneath you. Slowly you began to rock your hips, yourbreaths intermingling with your quickened movements. TJ’s hips snapped up, angling to hit your sweet spot. He was larger than most, nudging your cervix with any hard roll of his hips. You couldn't help the surprised gasp every time he did it.

“Yeah? So you regret nothing then?”

“Not at all. But please can I come?”

“Oh fuck," a low moan fell from TJ's lips as you clenched around him. Your second orgasm was quickly approaching, the coil tightening even quicker this time around.

"I want you to come for me," you whispered against his lips, “Come on, baby. you can do it." TJ almost whimpered at your words, looking at you with big eyes. It made you feel powerful, knowing he was under your control, "Are you my good boy?" you asked, clenching harder to bring him to his edge.

"Yes -" he groaned, his body tensing, "Yes I am." you smiled, pleased with yourself. He was the most responsive lover you'd ever had and he seemed to find comfort in you. Kissing his forehead, you brought your lips to his ear, "Then come…now.”

TJ let out a broken growl, wrecked already, and he shut his eyes tightly. You could feel his hot, sticky spend coating your silky walls, filling you up.

Up until now you'd used a condom with all your partners, despite taking birth control yourself but something about this time had felt different. TJ gave himself over to you so fully that you chose to spoil him by offering to fuck him without one. Was it risky? Yes. But deep down you had a feeling you'd be seeing more of TJ.

“Did I do good?" TJ asked softly. You cupped his check lightly, giving him a small nod.

"So good, baby. But you did make a bit of a mess.“ You replied, lifting off of him. Using your hand, you opened up your folds to show his cum dripping from you should clean me up, "I think you should clean it up.”

TJ didn't hesitate, immediately bobbing his head in agreement. This boy was going to be the death of you. So sweet, and easily malleable. You shifted up his body until you were hovering over his face . TJ tried to lift his head to dive in, but you stayed out of reach. “Please, Professor, let me clean up my mess. I want to be your good boy," TJ begged. A drop of cum fell on his cheek and his tongue darted out to lick it clean. Trying to prove his eagerness. It was so hot, that you had to bite back a moan, almost cumming on sight. You ran your fingers through his sweaty brown locks, soothing him. You could tell he was almost about to get whiny. Not wanting to upset him, you lower down onto his face. He was borderline ravenous as he began to lap at your soaked folds

Your eyes fluttered shut, fingers continuing to card through his hair. Deciding to give him more freedom, you undid his hands and he wrapped one arm around your thigh, pulling you even closer to his face. Practically suffocating himself. His other hand explored up your body, finding a breast to play with. His focus was torn between kneading your boob, tweaking your nipple, and burying his tongue deep in you, trying to reach every bit of you. The aftershocks of your second orgasm were still vibrating every lick and suck. Your whole body thrumming with a tingling sensation.

The room filled with the lewd sound of his slurping, your moans adding a debauched air to the environment. You couldn't help grinding against his face, his nose nudging your clit. Both hands tugged at his hair as you ground down harder. Small squeaks and keens, breathy pants, all leading to another climax. A gush of arousal all over his face.

It was like he was insatiable, and he could go on for hours. But you began feeling too sensitive to let him keep going and you pried his hand from your thigh lifting off of him. TJ made a sound of protest, trying to reach for you. “Don't get greedy, baby. You've done enough, I'm clean." 

“But you taste so good, He pouted, "I wasn't done.”

You chuckled, and gave him a kiss after you got off the bed. "If you want to be good for me again, my office door is always open.” You began to collect your clothes, slipping on your underwear first.

You heard the sheets rustling behind as TJ got up. 

“Could you stay the night?" TJ asked, making you pause. The tone of his voice was strong but there. was an edge of vulnerability. You turned to face him. "You want me to stay?"

"If it's okay with you?”

"Yeah," you started, “It is.” Your clothes slipped from your hands and you returned to the bed. He scooted over to give you room. 

Like two magnets drawn to each other, you two found a comfortable position, with his back pressed to your chest, your arms wrapped tightly around him. You placed soft kisses on the nape of his neck, feeling him relax beneath your touch. It quickly became the best sleep you’d had in a long time.

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