Fairytale of New York - Professor Bucky x Reader

Two

Y/N

It was impossible to focus on your work. That gnawing feeling in your stomach only grew with every second that the clock ticked, telling you that you'd done something wrong. You didn't need the nausea to tell you that, you already knew. His startled expression when he caught your eye for the first time at the beginning of the lecture was one that you weren't likely to forget any time soon; he clearly knew just as well as you did that you had both fucked up.

But really, there was no telling that this situation would occur. How would you have known that he was your professor? You had met in a bar, kept the conversation short and sweet, exactly the way your friends back at home had told you to when it came to one-night-stands. Neither of you knew anything about the other, so surely you couldn't be held accountable for it, right?

When the class finally came to an end, everyone began to pack up their things, the hoard of students rushing for the door as they finally found freedom from the two hour lecture. But you didn't follow, instead awkwardly hovering by the end of your row of desks, waiting for everyone else to leave so that you could have a moment of privacy with the professor. You needed to talk to him, that much was clear, even if just to find clarity on everything that had happened in the past two days.

"Are you coming?" Yelena asked as she paused a few steps down from you, looking over her shoulder back up to where you were hovering.

"Erm, I'll be right there," you said, trying to ensure that your voice didn't give anything away, although the slight tremor in your tone was evident to you, even if not to your new friend. "I just want to speak to Bu-Professor Barnes about something."

Yelena shrugged as she turned and made her way to the door with your other classmates, mumbling something about not wanting to wait and instead agreeing to meet you back at the apartment later.

The last few dregs of the class disappeared through the door and you finally had your chance, slowly but surely making your way down the stairs to the desk at the front of the lecture hall. Bucky was still there, packing away his laptop and textbooks, and as you approached him, clearing your throat to grab his attention, he looked up at you, his eyes widening behind his glasses when he realised who was waiting for him.

"Y/N," he said quietly, running a hand through his hair.

"What the hell, Bucky?" You couldn't hold back your confusion, and if you were being honest with yourself, your frustration. "Why didn't you tell me last night that you were my professor?" Bucky frowned, cocking his head to the side slightly. 

"Well, it's not exactly like I knew, did I?" He countered. "Why didn't you tell me you were a student?"

"I didn't think that was important information to tell a stranger in a bar," you argued back, your voice raising ever so slightly.

"Well, given our current situation, it would seem you were wrong."

"Don't act like this is my fault!" You all but shouted it, and Bucky quickly rushed around his desk to place two hands on each of your arms. He was clearly flustered, and evidently just as confused. His brows were furrowed in thought, his glasses slipping to the end of his nose as he crinkled it ever-so-slightly.

"You're right, the blame lies with both of us, or neither of us. It's no one's fault," he corrected with a sigh, glancing towards the door over your shoulder and then back at you, those gleaming eyes connecting to yours. "But please, you have to be quiet. If anyone found out about this I'd be fired."

"I know," you sighed, defeated, glancing down at the floor as you tried to make sense of everything that was happening. He reached up, tilting your chin upwards so that you were looking at him, and for a second, when your eyes met his, it felt as if you couldn't pull away, as if those irises were clinging to yours, telling you to never look away again.