𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬, 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬 and 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 for 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚!𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲. There is a mix of 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 and 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 in this collection. All of these stories are posted on my Tumblr and AO3 as well.
This wr...
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— Summary; After a gruelling day with maintaining his criminal empire, Bucky returns home to you, seeking comfort and passion in your touch and words. — Warnings; Fluff, Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, mob/mafia business, mention of violence/torture/murder, explicit content/language, pet names, unprotected vaginal sex, oral (male receiving), degradation & praise kink, use of the word whore, dom/sub dynamics, teasing, begging, face/throat fucking, gagging/choking, fingering, spanking, rough fucking, creampie, mention of bodily fluids.
Once the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting shadows over the city's towering buildings, Bucky made his way home after another demanding day maintaining his criminal empire. The day, much like the others, had been a grueling mix of meetings, negotiations, and the unsettling business of violence that defined Bucky's world of organized crime. Accustomed to the daily occurrences of bloodshed, torture, and death, even the strongest individuals, like Bucky, had their moments when frustration and weariness weighed heavily on his broad shoulders. All Bucky craved was solace and comfort in the embrace of his wife's warmth and love, concluding the night with the pleasure of burying himself deep within her. That singular thought occupied his mind as he sat in the backseat of the Rolls, heading towards the penthouse that overlooked the city—his sanctuary, his kingdom, and you, his Queen.
"Have a good evening, Sir," Bucky's chauffeur nodded firmly in the rearview mirror, receiving an equal parting nod as Bucky stepped out of the car.
As Bucky ascended the private elevator, his fingers itched intensely for your presence, yearning to wash away the day's cruelty with your loving touch and mend his wounds with your caring words. The ascent to his and your floor, typically swift, felt like an eternity. Leaning his forehead against the mirrored elevator walls, hands clenched on each side of his head, he muttered to himself, "Come on, come on. Hurry the fuck up. I fucking need her."
Finally, on the top floor, the elevator pinged and opened, revealing the vast penthouse. Bucky swiftly departed, entering the one place where he truly felt safe and at home. The familiar scent of your shared home immediately calmed him, normality easing his frustrations. As he entered the spacious living room, soft music filled the space, accompanied by the sound of your bare footsteps drawing closer. It was everything he had longed for after his gruelling day.
The ache he felt for you gradually faded as you approached. Clad in a silk robe, your captivating form moved with confidence, the curves of your body dancing beneath the expensive material. Your face, bare and glowing, reflected the wear and tear of your own long day.
Though Bucky adored when you were all primed and dolled up, there was an ethereal quality about you when stripped down to your natural beauty that captivated him even more.
He released a deep, heavy breath he hadn't known he'd been holding in, eyes closing briefly in bliss at the anticipation of you finally being beside him.
