Croatia for life🇭🇷❤️ "You didn't love her. You just didn't want to be alone. Or maybe, maybe she was just good for your ego. Or, or maybe she made you feel better about your miserable life, but you didn't love her. Because you don't destroy people that you love."
it's really infuriating to see people shit talk Hurricane... Sanja speaks five languages, Ksenija makes beautiful paintings, Ivana has won like every dance tournament, and they sing like that, have the stage presence and charisma many can only dream of, but some people only care about their cosmetic procedures and how "fake that makes them"
Summary: Bucky has planned the perfect vacation. All he has to do is get through the metal detectors without revealing his secret.
Pairing: TFAWS Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 3.5K
Warnings: Smut, exhibitionism, praise kink, piercing kink (Bucky has brand new c*ck piercing), mile high club public sex, airplane bathroom sex, oral (m receiving), p*ssy slapping, dirty talk,, dom/sub dynamics, begging kink, choking kink, Minors DNI
A/N: Beta’d by the wonderful @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog and @whisperlullaby and an entry for her challenge! All mistakes are my own.
Do not copy, translate, reproduce, rewrite or repost any of my works. Comments, likes and reblogs are welcome and cherished. By hitting read more, you agree that you are 18 and older.
Bucky Barnes is a romantic, you blame it on his 1940s upbringing. It’s not unusual for you to come home to flowers, chocolates, and oh his home-cooked meals. Nothing like seeing him, all six feet of thick ripped muscles, standing in front of the stove wearing nothing but an apron, holding up a spoon dripping with fragrant marinara sauce, telling you to open wide and swallow like the good girl you are.
For the past week, he’s been acting strange, hiding his laptop whenever you wander into the room.
He keeps staring at you to the point where you’re looking down at yourself, wondering if you spilled something. Each time he follows up with his signature smirk, pure lust in his deep blue eyes. He’s always insatiable but something is different, he’s holding back something from you, often distracting you with mind blowing sex, in fact, the only warning you get before he’s on you, in you, is his bottom lip catching between a flash of pearly white teeth.
When he announced the vacation it all made sense, his odd behavior, his increased libido. He’s been thinking about all the filthy things he’s going to do to you in another country.
And you are ready for it.
The ride to the airport is peaceful, the sky shades of dark azure and teals, the crescent moon visible to your left. The early morning traffic is light, so you arrive earlier than expected. While it pained you to get up before the sunrise, you have to admit it’s worth it to not deal with crowds of people. His hand, heavy and warm, rests on your thigh as he pulls into the lot.
“I’m a black man carrying the stars and stripes. What don’t I understand? Every time I pick this thing up, I know there are millions of people who are gonna hate me for it. Even now, here… I feel it. The stares, the judgement. And there’s nothin’ I can do to change it. Yet, I’m still here. No super serum, no blond hair or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better.”
I honestly cried when the scene came on. Seeing him fiddling with his fingers and slouching to look small when walking through the corridors of Smithsonian, looking so out of place in the place, truly like someone who hasn't been out and about in the public comfortably for so long was heartwrenching.
Isaiah Bradley deserves all the love and respect and honor and comfort in the world.
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