Leopard-Heels

Tai Kwon Do

Just so you all know, it’s been a very long time since I stepped foot on a high school campus with the purpose of attending a class. I won’t say how long - just that I’m not quite elderly and not quite young.

One of the most hilarious memories I have of high school had to do with my boyfriend (at the time) and his best friend, who were both absolute idiots. These guys got themselves into the most precarious situations and were constantly in trouble for something or another. This story was no exception to their usual mode of conduct other than the fact that they learned an actual lesson.

So we had this English teacher - all of us had her because it was a tiny school - who was the “hot” teacher. It was such a small town that everyone knew her - she grew up there, students babysat her son, and she frequently had parties that kids’ parents would attend.

A rumor started that she had a gigantic, fully stocked liquor cabinet, so"Joe" (we’ll call Boyfriend’s friend Joe) came up with the brilliant plan to rob her. Yes - skip school, break into this woman’s house during the day, and steal her apocalyptic level, a-grade stock pile of alcohol. Probably $500 worth.

Boyfriend grabbed his drunken father’s truck, unbeknownst to Drunken Father, and picked Joe up the next morning, and they headed to English Teacher’s abode with the intent to literally drain her dry. Unfortunately for Joe, he had a huge mouth. He told everyone - I mean EVERYONE - that he was going to do this. So obviously someone made English Teacher aware that she was going to be ripped off by twiddle dee and twiddle dumb.

Now, most people would call the police, right? Or an overly nice individual would make emergency contact with the heathens’ parents. Not her. She just so happened to be a Tai Kwon Do instructor, and Joe just HAPPENED to make fun of her for it all of the time because she was also tiny. I’m talking like 110 lbs wet kind of tiny.

She left school during first period, parked her car down the street, and she waited. She sat behind her house for three hours waiting to watch these guys break into her house, shatter her liquor cabinet door, and put everything into the backseat of Boyfriend’s dad’s truck.

They did. And right as they were finishing up, giggling their stupid asses off on the front porch after also having finished off a fifth of Jim Beam, she showed up. Apparently she warned them first and Boyfriend was intelligent enough to hightail it, but JOE - being the bright little crayon that Joe was - laughed at her.

He laughed.

This teenie, wee little karate instructor/English Teacher, wearing heels and leopard print leggings, beat the holy living shit out of Joe. He did not return to school for ten days, and when he did he brought a broken hand, three broken toes, and eight stitches across his right cheek.

He never admitted to what happened to him, and she never said a word to a single soul. She did, however, mysteriously return to school with a sprained wrist.

The only reason I know that Joe had his ass handed to him by Mrs. English Teacher is because Boyfriend sat behind the tree line across the street from her house and watched, then when she finished, he picked Joe up and took him home. I’m guessing his mother took him to the hospital.

One last, sweet little detail - Joe pissed himself. Boyfriend blamed it on the alcohol, but I love to imagine it happening right as she shoved her four-inch heel into his foot as he laughed in her face.

Bucky Barnes x Plus size reader Confessions

Word Count: 3K +

Warnings: Smut. Oral(male receiving) Mentions of violence and trauma. Mentions of Anxiety. Lotssss of cursing

Bucky wasn’t feeling so hot, the run in with the Hydra agents a few days ago was still taking it’s toll on his body. Being a super solider, genetically enhanced to be able to take a beating, was the only reason he was still alive. His three cracked ribs we’re all but mended and most of the superficial bruises and cuts we’re healed, leaving in their wake little scars and lumps. The gash that had been sliced into his head, the one that Bruce had said would have been his doing in, if not for the “super healing”, was all stitched up and still throbbed, but had begun to scab up and was reacting to the stiches well. He still had to wear the bandage that annoyed the shit out of him and itched something awful, but it was a small bargin to make.

The whole group that had gone on the mission; Tony, Steve, Bucky, Thor and Nat were all recuperating from the blood bath that had went down were all still hurting for the most part.

Bucky had been forced to bed rest, to let his body be idle so it could recover fully, and hadn’t left your room in over 48 hours. He liked your room a lot better then he liked his, even though it was identical to his lay out wise. Being the S.H.E.I.L.D appointed “Baby Sitter” to the Avengers meant you had moved into the tower, Tony giving you a “bunk”.

It was like being back in college, and at first you’d been annoyed. For you, who had lived on your own for years, the idea being forced to share your space with other people was daunting. But the so called “bunk” Tony gave you was one of the large, modern rooms. You’d made the best of it. Made it your own. Your large bed was adorned with soft bedding; littered with soft faux fur blankets and piled high with decorative, throw pillows.

Bucky liked to tease you about them because “who in their right mind needs this many pillows?” but in secret, he loved your bed. Loved how comfy and homey you we’re able to make the space. He felt the whole building was a little to clean, too hospital like with Tony’s mod decoration, but not your room.

It smelled warm and sweet from the littering of candles. Just like you.

He’d all but moved in to it with you since you two had started “going steady”.

He never knew how much he hated sleeping alone til’ he’d started sleeping with you, your plush body reassuring next to him. Your soft arms and doughy thighs wrapping around him, welcoming him to cling to you. The nightmares that had plagued him nightly now came in far lest frequent bursts, something about being lulled to sleep by the sound of your muted breathing, was like an all natural sleep aid…what he didn’t realize is that you, and your sleeping habits had become dependent on him too.

On the warmth he seemed to generate, on his small wheezing snores, on his arms protectively thrown over you.

You hated when he went on missions, dreaded them like you dreaded nothing else. Waited for him desperately, throwing yourself into whatever work you could find to keep your mind occupied, until he came home to you. It was a little pathetic really. You, a (Y/A) year old woman, not being able to sleep. Or eat. Or think right with out this man.

You always imagined the worst while he was gone, tied yourself into knots, had to take more of your anti-anxiety medication then normal. What if he was taken by Hydra again? What if they killed him this time? They only consolation you had in those panic laden moments was the absolute knowledge that Steve loved Bucky as much as you did. Maybe even more. And that he would NEVER let any of that shit happen.

The latest mission had brought your fears to life, you knew it was bad from the news reports. From the frantic coms back to base. They’d been ambushed by a group of Hydra agents who had some weird, deadly alien weapon; a bomb. Twelve civilians had been killed. The group almost been killed. Watching them hobble into the tower was like watching a scene from a war movie. Slow motion, all of them bloody. Like something out of a fucking nightmare. You’d almost hysterically sobbed at the sight of him, limping- his hair matted with grit and gore. Even though Bruce and the other medical’s had assured you both that he was fine you was still pretty shaken up.

You were more happy to have your beat up soldier in your bed, where you could see him. Where he was tangible and breathing. You weren’t very sure you ever wanted to let him out on another fucking mission again…

You walk into your room and see Bucky sitting propped up against the headboard and a white furry blanket pulled around him as he watches the TV. His eyebrows are knitted together, and it would almost look comical paired with the bandage on his head(major grumpy cat vibes) but the TV flashes with News images from the battle that had ensued in Japan. That had left him bruised and battered and bed ridden.

You shut the door behind you, loud enough so that it catches his attention and his blue eyes snap over to your entering frame and he gives you a half grin as you kick off the pair of leopard print heels, eager to get into bed with him.

“Hey kitten” He gruffs out his special name, just for you, as you climb cautiously onto your side of the bed. He’d told you that he wasn’t hurting much anymore, that you didn’t have to be so carful but you weren’t listening.

“Hi baby” You reach over kiss his scruffy cheek, nosing the indent below his cheekbone for a moment. Just breathing him in. You’d had, had to leave for a few hours, go do your job and work on cleaning up the aftermath.

Why had the hours felt like an eternity?

He looks you over, frowning a little bit as his metal hand comes up to stroke your cheek. You look tired, not even the concealer could hide the bags you were sporting.

“You look ’s bad as I feel” He mutters, not liking the state of his girl. You huff a laugh. A sweet little sound.

“That’s not very nice, asshole” Your words hold no venom, only teasing as you pull away so that you can get a better look at him. He doesn’t look so great himself. You finger the edges of the bandage on his forehead feather lightly.

“You know I think your a dime piece” Bucky reassures and you roll your eyes “You look exhausted though”

“That’s because I am. I didn’t really sleep that much last week. And now you’re a cripple and I’ve got to be your nurse, you’re never going to give me a break, are you? Being with you is my second full time job now” You tease and he pokes your shoulder in retaliation, but it’s made him chuckle. Which was your goal.

You could always make him laugh. You we’re such a little shit.

“Why didn’t you sleep last week?” He thinks he knows why, but he wants to make sure. Wants to hear you say it.

“You know I cant sleep with out you” You admit to him, gnawing on your bottom lip for just a moment “Which is fucked up because I used to love sleeping alone. Did you take your pain killers?” You quickly switch the subject, leaning up on your arm to look down at him with a crooked brow.

Bucky sighs. He knows that you’re not very comfortable talking about your feelings like this, not even with him. In the four months that you’d been together, he’d learned that for as affectionate you could be, you weren’t good at voicing what you felt.

And he loved your voice.

“Yeah, I took some almost an hour ago- you know I cant sleep without you either right?” He pulls on your arm, trying to make your rigid posture loosen.

You’re unyielding, your mouth quirking and nose scrunching. He knows that’s your thinking face, you’re I’m unsure of how to feel face. So he goes on with how he feels instead.

“I had nightmares almost every night…I don’t remember them being so damn vivid, you know? Since I haven’t been having them as much lately. Steve didn’t really know what to do. I could tell he was real worried though. I felt like crap, I tried to suck it up but all I wanted to do was be here with you. In your arms. That’s all I ever really want, if we’re being honest here”

Hearing his confession makes you drop your head to his chest and wrap your arm around him, tighter then you’d let yourself in days.

“I thought you we’re dead, Buck. When Tony commed in- it was so fucking fucked up. And then you we’re all covered in blood and I was- I was just…so scared. I cant sleep when your gone. I cant eat. All I can do is freak out and be a total spazzy mess until your back” Your own confession comes in a fast woosh. Your words tumbling over themselves.

He rubs your back in soothing circles through your shirt. I’m here, it says. I’m alive.

“I’ll always try my hardest to come back to you. I’ll find a way back” Bucky vows and you just shake your head.

“You cant promise that. The shit that goes on out there is out of your control” it’s mumbled into his chest. Your voice cracks and it breaks his fucking heart, seeing you all torn up the way you are. Over him.

“Hey, Y/N, look at me. Please, kitten” He nudges your head with his chin “Please?”

Your eyes rise to meet his. (y/e/c) meeting baby blue.

“I know I cant promise that, but what I can promise is that you’re all I’m thinking about when I’m out there. And it…makes me fight harder. Because I just want to come back and see your face, one more time” he squeezes your dimpled cheek in affection and your big teary eyes roll “plus, I’ve survived a hell of a lot. You repeat that to yourself when ever you get scared, kay? I do”

You nod, taking mental note.

Your man had survived an a hundred foot drop. The war. Hydra, multiple times. He’d survived being an experimental plaything, he’d survived being a prisoner. He’d survived Nat’s pancakes(which had almost killed you all).

“I love you” It’s not the first time you’ve said it to him, but the look in your eyes…the complete and utter devotion. Like you were admitting, to both yourself and him, that you were his. That you’re whole fucking world crumbled when he wasn’t around. That you needed him more then you’d ever needed anything.

It makes the pit of his stomach tighten and stir because no ones looked at him like that…ever. Not even before he was a murder, before he was tainted by all the shit he had been forced to do. To have you, giving yourself to him. You, who shown like sunshine. Who demanded attention and respect, who was the most quick witted woman he’d ever met- truly had the compacts to love a man like him.

It boggled his mind. It set him on fire.

He reaches so that he can press his lips to yours, kissing you with all the things he cant say. He doesn’t ever feel more like himself, James Barnes, then he does when he’s kissing you. Like if you could see something in him, then maybe it was really there.

“I love you. I love you. I love you” you chant it like a prayer between his kisses. All that pent up emotion coming out in pure, raw endearment. He goes to roll over on to you but hisses at the strain, at the pang in his ribs.

“Hey” You soothe, pushing him back lightly into his positon against the headboard “You’re still hurt, broken ribs don’t heal over night, not even for super soldiers”

You laugh but he groans.

“Come here then” He pulls at your waist a little, wanting the intimacy of your bodies being pushed together back and you’re more then happily to comply.

You drive him nuts, he’s so attracted to you it kills him sometimes, he’s in a constant state of love goggled want when it comes to you. And when you praise him, with your words and your lips the way you are now, he melts. He’d give you anything you asked for He’d do fucking anything for you.

“Kitten” Bucky sighs as you kiss the expanse of his bristley neck, nipping at his jaw, nosing his collar bone. He couldn’t really move right now, which you knew meant sex was off the table. But his groans and moans, his needy hands. The thought of him having nightmares without you. It all spurred you on.

You just wanted to take care of him. Wanted him to feel better. Wanted how much you loved him to surround him.

And you’d always been a very…physical lover. People who think big girls don’t care to have sex lives are wrong. You need that connection. Especially with him. And it had been missing for a week.

Bucky feels your hand slink lower on his chest, still careful for the remaining bruising. Running over every nook, every muscle that was taught with excitement. You let draw circles on the apex of his hips, just above where the ‘V’ of his hips meets his sweat pants and his lower stomach contracts, beautifully.

“Y/N” he hisses as you tug at the hem of the sweat pants, enough to allow his cock to release from it’s confines, stand tall, and slap against his stomach.

You don’t think you’ll ever get over that view.

“Going commando, are we?” You whisper in his ear as you stroke the underside of him with just your fingernails.

“Please don’t tease me” Bucky begs. He knows how you are. Has been edged for hours before “Not tonight”

You nod against his jaw and begin to move your hand “Okay, baby, okay”

There’s so much pre-cum already, you use the palm of your hand to rub at his tip and the strangled little moans you get in return are fucking heaven.

Then, your moving down him, not putting any of your weight his healing abdomen as you go eye level with his cock. It’s dangerously plump, red and swollen as you hold him by the base.

“Poor baby” you coo as you press a loving kiss to the tip, running it over your lips in an attempt to soothe the engorgement “I’m going to take care of you, Buck. Don’t worry”

Bucky’s head snaps back hard onto your many pillows as he lets out a long breath tough his nose as you proceed to leave open mouth kisses all over him, sucking the sides of his hard dick, giving him all of your attention. Wanting to get every inch of him before you take him into your mouth.

You’d never had that great of a gag reflux, but god damn it, your try for him. Take as much as him into your mouth, down your throat as you can. Your body rejects it, your tight little esophagus tightening in protest and the gags you let out loud as you fight to take more.

Bucky’s eyes roll because holy shit, you’ve never taken this much of him in your mouth before. He has to see, he lifts his head enough so that he can see down his body, to where his cock is burred in your mouth. Your (y/c/h) is tumbling around your head, falling onto his stomach so he runs his metal hand trough it in order to collect it, to get it out of your face, to help his good little baby doll.

You look up at him, your eyes teary, the makeup around them smudged and messy. His cock in stretching your mouth wide, your pretty lips bursting at the seams with him and he fucking loses it. His hips roll, even through the pain from his ribs, and he lets out a screeching moan neither of you had ever heard.

Maybe it’s because he hasn’t cum in a week. Maybe its seeing you, willing suffer to take him like you were, he doesn’t know.

“I’m cumming. I’m cumming, Y/N” He warns but you don’t pull away. You continue to gag around him, sucking and bobbing.

He cums harder then he thinks he ever has. The long milky spurts fill your throat and you breathe through your nose as you attempt to take it all. Bucky cant even form a complete thought, his mind has gone white hot, his ears are ringing and his whole body keeps shaking uncontrollably. You reach up and grab his hand, in an attempt to wordlessly support him, to anchor him.

I’m here, Buck. I’m here.

It’s impossible to catch it all in your mouth and it seeps from the corners of your lips, dribbling down your chin, your neck, into your shirt and cleavage. You don’t give up though, taking it until the spurts stop and he’s ran himself dry.

“Y/N” Bucky whimpers as he pulls on you hair, he’s too sensitive. Your mouth on him feels searing and near painful and you slowly release him with a little ‘pop’ and then look up at him through your eyelashes, your eyes cartoon like. Bashful and soft and young looking. Your lips were swollen and raw and glistening, your chin still dripping with traces of his cum. Your hair messy and wild from his fingers.

You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Haunting.

His fingers stroke across your forehead, pushing tendrils of hair away as his chest swells with fondness.

“Oh Christ, Y/N” His strong arms pull you up to him “Come here, baby”

“Your ribs!” Your protest but he doesn’t listen, he just holds you tight on top of him, cradling your face with his flesh hand, his metal one holing your soft waist.

“I’m sorry- I know you don’t like- you didn’t have to swallow” He whispers as he wipes at your damp chin. You’d never been a swallower, always begging him to tell you when he was close so that you could pull away.

You shake your head, hard.

“No, I wanted to” You insist, and he smiles at the fire in your voice.

He really was in trouble. Was in deep, when it came to you.

“I love you, Y/N” His tone…sounds something like worship “I love you so much. I cant- your-I need you more then I-” He still cant think completely straight, not after that orgasm and you press a small peck to his lips.

“I know, Bucky. I love you too”

Raise your hand if you’d suck Sebastian’s dick in a second *throws both my hands in the air* I got a lot of Bucky oral requests so here you all go! So I’m kind of thinking about doing a collection of these? With this certain reader who works PR an psychology for the Avengers? Maybe?😬

My very first post … a snapshot of my high heels closet. 3m long shot even if it doesn’t seem that long on the picture.
New pairs have been added since then to reach a total of 30 pairs of high heels pumps and more or less 20-25 knee-high and thigh high boots.
Hard to wear them all and I even sometimes forget about some or just don’t wear them anymore. One of my 2017 resolution is to clean my closet and potentially sell a few before buying new ones 😂. I guess high heels fashion is my addiction 😍👠