#sugar daddy!steve rogers

[misshoneybee]

All the Nicest Places - CEO!Sugar Daddy!Steve Rogers x Reader // II. Rue de Bonaparte

Rating: Explicit (18+ Minors, DNI!!!) Other Links: ao3 Wordcount: ~6.4k Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes Content Warnings: mature language, explicit sexual content, (daddy kink, dirty talk, age difference (he's forty-five, you're twenty-three), use of pet names (petal, doll, princess, etc.), bit of a dom/sub dynamic, vaginal sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, kind of a threesome (mfm), cuckolding?, a little impact play, fingering, teasing, oral sex (m and f-rec), squirting, overstimulation, orgasm delay/denial, dacryphilia, creampie, little bit of cumplay)

PART I: PARK AVENUE

Who knew you could go to Paris twice?

AN: My readers are AFAB but otherwise, I do my best to stay inclusive! Please let me know if there's anything I can do to improve. The title is from ‘I Don't Wanna Live Forever’ by Taylor Swift and Zayn and the divider is from firefly-graphics. Brevity is not my strong suit so here's ~2.1k words of exposition and ~4.3k of smut. I'm not sure how much I love this because it's my first time writing a threesome so, unlike Mr. Barnes and Mr. Rogers, please be gentle. Also, this wasn't beta'd or proofread so all mistakes are my own. Enjoy, lovelies! xx, 🥰 gif credit: xx

A soft moan was pulled from your lips as noises from the living room bled into the bedroom through the aged, wooden door. Squeezing your eyes shut, savoring the last few moments of sleep as you blocked out the warm sun, you pulled the duvet tighter around yourself, burrowing deep into the luxurious cushion of down pillows and cashmere blankets that still smelled like Steve.

It had almost been a week but the jetlag hadn’t been kind to your body; nine in the morning still felt suspiciously like the middle of the night to your unacclimated circadian rhythm. With university on break for the season, you hadn’t thought twice about accepting Steve’s invitation to trot across the globe. It was time for his annual visit to his international properties and you’d have been remiss to reject it. You couldn’t have, even if you’d wanted to (which, of course, you didn’t.)

People just didn’t say no to Steve Rogers. 

It was a beautiful townhouse that towered just slightly over its neighbors, not far from the Seine, with six ornate bedrooms, almost as many bathrooms, and a clear view of the district from all of the windows that flooded the home with mid-morning light. You couldn’t help but feel a little out of place despite Steve insisting that you could have, or do, whatever you wished. The old walls did little to muffle the deep voice that you’d grown to know all too well as Steve crossed the living room, getting closer to the French doors of the master suite.

It was a beautiful townhouse that towered just slightly over its neighbors, not far from the Seine, with six ornate bedrooms, almost as many bathrooms, and a clear view of the district from all of the windows that flooded the home with mid-morning light. You couldn’t help but feel a little out of place despite Steve insisting that you could have, or do, whatever you wished. The old walls did little to muffle the deep voice that you’d grown to know all too well as Steve crossed the living room, getting closer to the French doors of the master suite.

Sitting up, the soft blankets pooled around your waist as you rubbed the sleep from your bleary eyes, allowing an uninhibited yawn to rattle your chest. His voice was low as he turned door handle, “Ferme ta gueule, Batroc.” With a dark look in his eyes, you heard him mutter before forcefully hanging up the call, “Vous avez deux jours.”

As he opened the doors completely, slipping his phone into his back pocket, his eyes softened as they met yours, “Bonjour, ma chérie.” Leaning over, he pressed a short kiss to your lips as he carefully handed you your coffee before slipping back into bed beside you.

As long as you’d known him, he’d been a morning person. He was almost ready for the day, showered with still slightly damp hair and a freshly trimmed beard. It seemed as though he’d gotten a bit of a delayed start; you’d both been up a little late the night before.

You wished you could feel bad, but you didn’t.

He dragged you into his side, the corner of his mouth ticking up at the giggle that was pulled from your lips, “Merci beaucoup, monsieur.”

“Mm, look at you. Just like a local.” He grinned down at you.

Rolling your eyes good-naturedly, you took a sip of the creamy, too-sweet coffee drink you adored as he twirled a lock of your hair around his finger absentmindedly. Poking his side, you murmured, “Who was that on the phone?”

“No one for you to worry about, petal.” Steve dismissed airily. He never liked talking business with you and you could never quite tell whether that was a good or bad thing. Was it that he just wanted to keep you separate from that part of your life or that he didn’t trust you? You knew it had a lot to do with real estate and investment…and that was about the extent of your knowledge on his business endeavors. “C’mere.”

You squeaked, carefully placing your cup of coffee on the nightstand as he easily pulled you on to his lap, pressing a kiss to your almost bare shoulder before burrowing his face in your neck. Tangling your fingers in his hair, you had to bite your lip to keep youself from saying the three words that always teased the tip of your tongue.

“How do you look so good in the morning…” Steve groaned, nonethewiser as his lips trailed a line of soft, warm kisses from the tender spot just below your ear. He followed the column of your neck, before pushing the strap of your nightie off your shoulder and continuing down.

“Steve…” Your eyes fluttered shut, your fingers tightening in his hair as he mouthed at the swell of your breasts, the soft hair of his beard tickling your warm skin. Pulling the lace-line fabric down further, his tongue traced a circle around your pebbled bud slowly before taking it in his mouth.

Mornings like this were your favorite; slow kisses and lazy caresses as you rolled around in bed with his phone on silent as you escaped the world. Your eyes popped open as you tried to pull back, his flat hand on your back making it impossible as you spoke through a moan, “Wait—“

The pout on his pink lips was almost comical as he detached himself from your body, almost whining, “Baby, let me say good morning…”

His hand that rested on your lap lifted the satin hem slowly, a sparkle in his ocean blue eyes. Slapping his hand gently, you stifled your smile as you laced your fingers together, “Don’t you have a meeting?” Your brows drew together; his schedule had been the same every week day since arriving in the city and it was only Friday, “You can’t be late.”

“I rearranged my schedule.” Leaning back against the headboard, his thumb rubbed small circles on your hip as he chuckled at your innocently confused expression, “That’s what that call was about. I figured, I brought you the whole way to Paris, it wouldn’t be fair to keep you cooped up here.”

Rearranging yourself to straddle his lap, you slipped your arms around his neck as a smile slowly spread across your face, “What do you mean?”

“We have the whole weekend. Shopping, museums, whatever you want—“

With wide eyes, you sat up straighter, taking his face in your hands as you bounced excitedly, forcing a groan from his lips as you squealed, stumbling over your words, “The Louvre?” You gasped, “Or the Musée d'Orsay? It has more Van Gogh but the Louvre has more historically rel—”

Shaking his head, he moved to capture your lips in a slow kiss to interrupt your deluge of excitement but was stopped with one of your smaller hands over his mouth. An entertained, albeit puzzled, look crossed his face as you explained with a wrinkled nose as if it was obvious, “I have morning breath.”

Removing your hand, he murmured, “And I don’t care.” Returning to his intended target, his tongue brushed against yours languidly, the taste of coffee and mint that was meant to cover up the scent of tobacco from the cigarettes you hated mixed together and made you dizzy.

Finally pulling back, he chuckled, answering your initial inquiry, “The Louvre, the Musée d'Orsay, anywhere you want, petal.” 

His lips began to trail down your body as you grinned, “Anywhere?”

With a wink, he quickly maneuvered you on to your back and nodded, rolling your panties down your legs with a grin, “Anywhere.”

By some miracle, you’d made it out of Steve’s townhouse before noon. Two rounds in bed, bookending a third in the shower, you’d had to peel yourself off of him from where you were tangled in the warm sheets. You weren’t certain who really was the insatiable one; perhaps you both shared the title.

With intertwined fingers and a pair of large sunglasses obscuring your face, you’d made your way down the street to cross the Seine. Your heels clicked quietly against the sidewalk, the rhythm comforting as you traversed the city. The old, stone building facades with wrought iron accents and steep roofs felt so romantic as you meandered down the sidewalks you’d become well acquainted with. The location of his home was central to everything you wanted to see in the city; museums, restaurants, galleries—so many galleries. You’d be heartbroken when you eventually had to leave. 

The Louvre was everything you’d ever imagined; it was an art history major’s dream. The Mona Lisa, Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss, The Coronation of Napoleon, Liberty Leading the People—things you’d only ever read about but suddenly, they were right in front of you and your breath was taken away. 

“She’s beautiful.” You exhaled, your eyes tracing the white Parian marble as you squeezed Steve’s hand. 

The way the stone fell like draped fabric made you yearn to touch it. You couldn’t remember ever seeing anything so breathtaking. 

Unable to stem your excitement, the words fell from you lips quickly, “Did you know that they’re not even certain it’s Aphrodite? It’s just an assumption because of how she looks. If we knew what her hands were doing, we’d have a better idea. They actually found fragments of them when they discovered her but they just tossed them away—like trash! Can you believe that?” 

The corner of Steve’s lips ticked up at your excitement as he listened intently. He’d been to the museum dozens of time but something about being there with you felt like seeing everything again for the first time.

“She could have been Amphitrite since she was found on Milos or—“ 

Before you could go off on a tangent about France’s loss of the Venus de Medici prior to the Venus de Milo’s discovery in the early nineteenth century, you were interrupted by a smooth, low voice from behind you. It sounded like silk and honey and made you feel warm in the pit of your stomach; you had to suppress a shiver that threatened to wrack your body.

“Rogers, good to see you.”

Steve’s hand on the small of your back was firm as you both turned to face the familiar man. You hadn’t seen Mr. Barnes since the Stark Industries party in New York a few months before, since Steve had made that little quip that still made you blush when you thought about it too long.

“Is it?” Steve asked cooly, raising a half-amused brow, “Because I heard you were sniffing around that building in the seventh. Figured you knew I was here signing the contract this week.”

“Mm, you know the rumor mill these days.” Mr. Barnes’s lips twisted into wry smile as he gave Steve a noncommital shrug before offering a hand. Giving it a firm shake, he turned his sights on you, his grin widening lasciviously. “Lovely to see you again.”

Leaning in, he brushed a kiss against each of your cheeks and your breath caught in your throat as the scent of his cologne overwhelmed your senses and made you weak in the knees. It was dark and smoky, leathery and warm with a whisper of spice that reminded you of dusk, and you could feel Steve’s eyes burning into your back as your hands lingered on his biceps just a moment too long.

Your ass was going to pay for that later.

Stepping back closer to Steve’s side, you could feel your cheeks growing warm as you gave the other man a coy nod, “You as well, Mr. Barnes.”

“You can call me James, doll.” He didn’t have to be so charming but you could feel yourself being pulled in to his orbit. Steve’s arm around your waist tightened as James continued on, as if he wasn’t there, “Have you been enjoying the city?”

Looking around the cavernous Greek antiquities room, there was wonder in your eyes as you nodded slowly, a breathless smile on your face, “It’s beautiful. I adore it here.”

“You’re one to talk about beauty.” His voice was low, thick and sweet like molassas, and you squeezed your thighs together as a bolt of electricity zapped the pit of your stomach. His eyes trailed down your body, tracing the way your dress fell so perfectly over your curves.

“Thank you.” You murmured shyly, biting back a smile at his quick remark that you were certain sent Steve burning.

“As fun as this has been, we should be going.” Steve cleared his throat, giving Mr. Barnes a dark, almost competitive look as he tugged you closer to his side, a possessive hand splayed over your hip. With a curt nod to the other man, he began to guide you out of the wing, “Barnes.”

“Rogers.” James nodded cooly.

Unable to leave well enough alone, you peered over your shoulder to find James’s eyes focused squarely on your ass. With a sparkle in your eyes, and a flirty little smirk painted on your glossy lips, you called back melodiously, “Goodbye, James.”

You always did have a penchant for punishment. 

Biting his lip, he gave you one last slow look up and down, “See you around, princess.”

On one hand, you were grateful that Steve had waited until you’d finished your appointment at Hermes and had returned home. On the other, you were pretty certain that those extra two hours had only served to fester his jealousy, making the green vines twist around him tightly until there was no where else left for his feelings to go.

As you’d looked through bags and shoes, he’d typed away aggressively on his phone, only looking up to give his opinion when you asked and to hand over his black card to the sales associate.

Now, your new Birkin had been tossed thoughtlessly on the floor of Steve’s home office. The smooth camel leather and thousands of dollars worth of gold hardware winked up at you from the ground where it had a front seat to Steve’s defilement of you.

“Daddy, fuck—“ You whined, clutching his arms that were wound tightly around your waist. The buttons of his half-undone shirt rubbed against the sensitive skin of your bare back as he pounded into you from below, his mouth on your neck as you whimpered at the sensation of him easily slipping in and out of your wet cunt.

He’d ripped your dress off almost as soon as the door had shut behind you. You’d already come twice and when Steve got like this, there was no telling when he’d stop.

“That feel good baby?” He groaned, slowing his thrusts to gentle rolls that made you desperate for more. One of his hands pressed hard against your lower abdomen and you wiggled fruitlessly against his body. He could always tell when you were getting close.

“Uh-huh…” You whispered, rocking your hips as best as you could, your eyes fluttering shut. Your thighs were hooked over his, spread wide by his legs with no hope of moving, because he knew you got squirmy after orgasm number two and he wasn’t done playing with his baby girl yet.

One of his hands drifted from playing with your puckered nipple to dipping into your heat beside his cock, making you let out a choked moan at the stretch as he gathered some of your wetness and slowly circled around your swollen clit, “What’s that, petal? You like when daddy plays with this pretty little clit, don’t you?”

You hummed in response, your back arching as you prayed for more. Your eyes shot open at the sharp sting from a gentle slap to your tender nub, pulling a whine from your lips as your nails dug into his arms. You could feel the exhale of a silent laugh against your neck before he groaned at the way your walls clenched around him, “Out loud, baby.”

“Yes, oh fuck—“ You whimpered out, reaching one hand back to tangle in his hair as you rode him. A muffled noise from down the hall broke you from your reverie; your mind was hazy but you were almost certain that you’d heard something.

It wouldn’t be the first time one of Steve’s housekeepers had walked in on the two of you. Despite the dizzying endorphins that swam in your head, your hips stilled as you murmured, “Wait, what was that?”

“Shh…” Steve acquiesced, his fingers trailing slow circles around your clit once more as he shushed you. His cock gave a little twitch as his balls nestled snugly against you and he groaned quietly, “Just be a good girl for daddy, petal. Keep bouncing on my cock…”

As if you were a doll, his hands found purchase on your hips as he easily held you still and hammered into you from below. Your hands left his arms, trailing over your soft skin before finding purchase on your breasts that bounced with each hard thrust.

Toying with your nipples, you let out a gasp when the tip of his cock nudged that special spot deep inside that sent sparks shooting through your body as you keened, “Love your cock so much—“

It was like static filled your ears as he spread your legs even wider, pulling your hips back in to his before a quiet, smirking voice crossed the room, “Glad to see we have similar definitions of taking meetings at home.”

As your eyes shot open and met a pair of slightly familiar icy blue ones, you felt yourself shatter as your orgasm shook your body. You could feel your juices soaking Steve’s lap as you writhed in his arms, crying out as he continued toying with your sensitive button.

Whimpering, your limbs felt like lead, “Daddy—oh god!”

You felt your face grow warm as Mr. Barnes caught his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes not leaving your squirming body. As you came down, you tried to cover yourself to no avail as Steve kept your arms pinned by your sides, his lips brushing over your shoulder as he let out a low, dark chuckle, speaking to the tall man who’d leaned against the wall, watching you both with darkened eyes, “Took you long enough.”

Mr. Barnes—James—gave a nonchalant shrug, his eyes not leaving yours, “Had to tie up a few loose ends.”

If you weren’t already bare, his gaze would have made you feel like you were. Swallowing, trying to remedy your dry throat, your voice broke, “Steve—“

“Is that my name, baby?” One of his hands drifted up your sternum, settling against the soft skin of your neck like a collar, not adding any pressure but ensuring you kept staring at James. His hot breath on your ear made you shiver as he groaned, “Fuck, you’re dripping, petal. You like this. Don’t you? You like his eyes on you, dirty girl?”

“Daddy...” You whispered, your entire body growing hot at the attention focused on you. As you caught your breath, Steve’s fingers spread your folds open, giving your voyeur a perfect look at his cock still pressed deep inside your hole.

“Fuck, Rogers.” Mr. Barnes groaned, a deep pained sound stuck in his throat as he watched Steve’s glistening fingers spread you wide. Slowly crossing the room to where you were still perched on Steve’s lap, on his desk, he asked lowly, “How do you get any work done with that tight little cunt waiting for you?”

You swallowed, trying to remedy your dry throat as a chuckle rumbled Steve’s chest that was pressed against your back.

Taking your chin between his thumb and finger, Mr. Barnes tilted your face up to look at him. The smirk hadn’t left his face as he brushed a thumb over the cushion of your bite-swollen lower lip, tugging it down just barely.

You could feel yourself shaking; terror and excitement always felt the same.

Raising a brow, Mr. Barnes murmured quietly, “You like being used like his little fucktoy, princess?”

The word got stuck in your throat so you nodded dumbly.

“Answer him, petal.” Steve hummed in your ear, his teeth tugging your lobe gently.

“Y-yes.” You whispered.

A sharp sting on your cheek sent a spark through your body, lighting up every nerve as Mr. Barnes’ hand soothed the site of its assault. You felt a rush of wetness between your legs but Steve’s legs kept yours spread wide despite your need to rub your thighs together, seeking more pleasure.

James’s voice was lower when he corrected you, “Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.” You sniffled, feeling over exposed as Steve pulled you tigher against his body with a low groan.

“Fuck, Barnes. Should’ve felt the way she squeezed me when you did that.”

Your whimper was muffled as Bucky slipped his thumb into your mouth. Your cheeks hollowed around his digit without a second thought, your tongue swirling around it as you silently begged for something more between your lips with a sated little hum.

“Would you like that, baby?” Steve prompted you and you felt your heartbeat quicken. You knew you could say a single word and end everything but—fuck, you didn’t want to.

“You want Mr. Barnes to play with your sweet, little pussy?” He continued, taunting you before a whine was pulled from your throat, finally nodding your consent. His hands on your hips lifted you from his lap easily, setting you gently on the edge of his desk as he knelt behind you. You whined at the loss of his length filling you, your walls clenching, unsatisfied.

Removing his thumb from where it was pressed heavily against your tongue, James easily shed his suit jacket, folding it in half before draping it over the back of one of the antique leather chairs that decorated Steve’s office.

His eyes stayed trained on you as he listened to Steve tick off his rules, speaking around you.

“You can touch her. Finger her. Fuck her.” His large hands spread you wide for his adversary’s eyes, as he continued with a little smirk, “She’s insatiable. When she’s crying, fuck—that’s when you know it’s just getting good. You can come anywhere but inside her pussy. That belongs to me.”

His jaw worked before he lowly added, “And if she says ‘empire,’ you stop. I don’t give a shit what’s going on, you stop and get the fuck out. Got it?”

“Got it.” James stalked back towards the desk like a wolf, tracking it prey, dismissively waving Steve off as his full attention returned to you. Cupping your cheek with an unfound gentleness, he asked quietly, “Would you like that, princess? You want me to touch you?”

Before he could finish his question, you were nodding, your body shaking with excitement, “Yes, please, sir. Need you to touch me…”

James’s hands skated down your body as Steve held your thighs apart. The other man’s thumb ghosted over your clit before tugging the little hood back gently, tsk-ing as he watched your glistening cunt clench around nothing, silently begging for it to be filled again.

“Fuck, look at that pretty hole drooling for me.” He groaned, his thumb barely pressing into it slowly as your head tilted back, bracing yourself on the desk with your weak arms. “Did your daddy stretch you open for me, princess? Get you all ready to take my cock too?”

With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you nodded. You could feel a bead of wetness trailing from your entrance to your puckered hole and shivered. Steve’s heavy hands slid up your body, toying with your breasts. His thumbs brushed over the pebbled skin of your nipples before tugging them, rolling them between his fingers and pinching them teasingly.

Undoing his belt slowly, James’s crystalline eyes trailed over your bare form, “Been thinking about you all day, pretty girl. How cute and innocent you looked in that little white dress this afternoon. How you must be all sweet and shy…” With a little smirk, his warm hands gripped your hips and tugged you closer to the desk’s edge as a squeak was pulled from your lips.

“Turns out you’re just a little cock-hungry slut, aren’t you?”

You knew the nod you gave was unsastifactory when he gently pinched your clit between his thumb and finger, forcing a pathetic whine from your lips as you quickly corrected, “Oh fuck—yes, sir!”

“Good girl.” He cooed. His thumb brushed over your swollen nub soothingly as he nodded to your side, “Now, how ‘bout you keep your daddy’s cock warm with that slutty fucking mouth of yours while I play with this cute little cunt.”

You hadn’t even noticed Steve moving to your side, pumping his length that hung heavily between his built thighs, still glistening with your pleasure. Your brain was still fuzzy from the several orgasms Steve had given you earlier; your attention kept wondering.

Nodding obediently, you went to work. Using your tongue to wet your hand, you leaned back and allowed it to take over for his, opening your mouth slowly as Steve’s hand brushed against your cheek, guiding his cock to your lips and tapping his leaking tip against your tongue as James knelt between your legs.

“Fuck, baby. Look how used this pussy is…” His thumbs spread your lips apart, running over them soothingly as he muttered, “So swollen and puffy… Let me help, princess.”

A drag of his tongue from your hole to your clit made your hips jolt before they were forced back down onto the cool wood by his large hands, “Oh—“

Your exclamation was prevented by Steve thrusting into your mouth fully, his tip brushing the back of your throat, forcing a gag from you. His hand rested on the back of your head, guiding your mouth up and down his length as his head dropped back. With a gasp for breath, you pulled off of his cock, your hand replacing your mouth, jerking him off unevenly, as your other hand drifted between your thighs, tangling in James’s hair.

His talented tongue trailed around your clit as he easily slipped two fingers into your soaked entrance; you swore you could feel the smirk on his lips as you whined out his name.

Steve’s fingers tightening in your hair forced your attention back to him where your hand had slowed, overwhelmed with all of the new sensations that came with splitting your attention between the two men. Your tongue traced the prominent vein on the underside of his cock before finally reaching his tip where a bead of precum leaked from his slit. Giving it a little, teasing kitten lick, you giggled as his adam’s apple bobbed and a moan was pulled from his throat.

Wrapping your lips around its ruddy, swollen head, you moaned as the salty taste coated your tongue. You always loved sucking his cock.

Your hips bucked against James’ mouth as he sped up his ministrations and he hooked his arms around your thighs, spreading them over his broad shoulders as his tongue continued lashing over your clit, sucking it and gently grazing his teeth over the little bundle of nerves.

“You’re doing so well, petal.” Steve cooed as you whined around his length, your hand working what you couldn’t take down your throat. “Your mouth feels like sin…”

Removing your swollen, spit-soaked lips from him with a pop, you murmured brokenly, “Thank you, Daddy…”

“Princess, such a naughty girl. You’re fucking soaked for us.” James licked another languid stripe from your leaking entrance to the sensitive button of your little clit and you squirmed fruitlessly in his arms as his teeth grazed it gently. Looking up at you from under his dark lashes, the two fingers in your hole curled up, brushing that spongey little patch that made you see stars.

Watching the little ring of your cream form around the base of his fingers, he taunted against your sex, “You like having two of us? You like having all the attention on you, baby?”

“Yes, sir!” You cried out, your hips rocking against his digits needily.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet. Such a perfect little slut, aren’t you?” He traced the tip of his tongue around your clit before sucking hard then soft, letting go and repeating the movement over and over. He could feel your body tensing as your orgasm quickly approached, your thighs quivering at the added stimulation from his thick fingers.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, feeling the wave building low in your tummy as your eyes watered and struggled to stay open, “Can I...” Taking a shaky breath, trying to keep your crest at bay, lest you receive a punishment for coming without permission, you whimpered. Your eyes found Steve’s, a little pout on your lips as you begged, “Daddy, I need to come. Can I? Please? Need it so bad…”

You broke off with a half-stifled moan as a shiver was sent up your spine.

“I’m not the one you should be asking, petal.” Steve grinned as he watched you struggle to hold back the pleasure that was already coursing through your body.

“Please—Mr. Barnes,” You sat up slightly, propping yourself up on your elbows. Spotting him worshipping between your thighs, your breath quickening as you begged, “May I come? Your tongue feels so good. I—fuck, please?”

“Look at you asking for permission. Seems like your daddy trained you well.” You could only whine in response and he grinned. His fingers pistoning in and out of you, pulsing harder and harder against your g-spot with each quick thrust.

Granting you grace, he nodded, his jaw clenched tightly as he groaned, feeling your walls flutter around his digits as a little trickle of your juices leaked out around his fingers. Swearing under his breath, one of his hands pressed against your lower belly as he murmured, “Go ahead, sweetheart. Let me see this sweet little cunt squirt for me.”

At his permission, you finally felt the dam break as a loud moan was pulled from your lips. Arching your back, unsure if you were trying to shy away from his touch or get more of it, you felt the wave crest and crash as several short bursts of clear fluid came from your fluttering hole.

“Shit…” He groaned as you came down, smearing some of your wetness over your already glistening folds. Unzipping his trousers as he stood, James shoved them down only far enough to pull himself from the confines of the tight boxer-briefs that hugged his built thighs.

You felt a lump in your throat as your wide eyes zeroed in on his length. Long and thick, it was painfully hard and ready for you as it rested against the light dusting of hair that trailed down his stomach before he choked it tightly in his hand.

You knew you were quite a sight—mascara smudged down your cheeks, lipstick smeared from your mouth—but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as you wiggled closer to the edge of the desk, situating yourself exactly where he wanted. Your knees eagerly fell open wider.

To the side, you could see Steve watching you, his hand working his lipstick stained length as James toyed with you. There was a silent smirk on his lips as he watched your hips give a little restless twitch, knowing exactly what you craved.

Maybe it felt a little dirty, him watching you get fucked by another man, but not more than it felt good.

Your head spun as James easily lifted you from the desk, turning you to face it instead. Without needing his instruction, your propped yourself up on your forearms as you arched your back, silently begging as you stuck your ass out for him. The cool wood brushed against your puckered nipples and you let out a soft whimper at the feeling against your burning skin.

“I gotta have you wrapped around my cock, baby…”

It was only a moment before he lined himself up with your sore entrance, dragging his tip up and down your dripping slit to spread the wetness around. Holding your hips firmly, he sank into your tight channel in one, smooth stroke with a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he bottomed out, his hips flush against your ass.

Your arms buckled at the sensation of being filled so completely, your nails scraping against the lacquered wood as he wasted no time before pulling out and shoving himself back in, setting a punishing rhythm that made you feel dizzy.

“How are you still so fuckin’ tight,” He punctuated his last few words with hard thrusts that took your breath away, “when I know you’re just your daddy’s little whore?”

“What do you say, petal?” Steve smirked at your wide eyes that fluttered shut as a soft whimper was pulled from your mouth.

“Thank you, sir.” Your cheek pressed against the cool top of the desk as your vision blurred with pleasure; James lifted one of your legs on to the desk, opening yourself wider for him as his hips snapped punishingly, his heavy balls smacking against your sensitive nub with each thrust.

“Oh fuck, da—sir—James…” Your mind had all but melted, your words slurring together.

“Look at you shaking.” His chuckle was dark but his movements never stopped as you mewled, all but climbing the desk to try and escape the overwhelming sensation. “This too much for you, doll?”

Your nod and whimper made his dick twitch as he split you open, slowing as he grinded into your cunt. Leaning over you, almost covering your body with his, his breath was hot as he whispered into your ear with a cheshire grin, “Too fucking bad, princess. I know you can take it…”

“Please, daddy…” You couldn’t see the way Steve’s eyes darkened as the title slipped from your lips. It wasn’t as if you could even apologize; your head was floating too high above the clouds in pleasure.

Leaning back, he reached down and toyed with your clit, forcing a whine from your lips as he watched his cock disappear into your body, glistening with your slick each time he drew it out, “Fuck, look at the way your little pussy is stretching around me.”

He groaned, returning to his hammering rhythm as he felt himself growing closer to his own edge. Holding your hips still, he grunted, “I can see why you kept her away from us, Rogers.”

Steve clicked his tongue, his eyes trained on the way your abused pussy gripped James’s cock as he slowly stroked himself, “Nothing changes after tonight, Barnes. You walk out of here and she’s still mine.” Landing a smack against the bouncy flesh of your ass, he squeezed gently, teasing, “Do you need to come again, petal?”

Heat from Steve’s handprint spread under your skin and you gasped. Bucky’s thumb that was still laser focused on rubbing tight circles around your clit forced you closer to another precipice, your voice breathy as you begged, “Yes, please…”

“Get on the desk, princess.” You whined at the loss of James’ length, and your impending orgasm, but you were spun around and lifted on to the desk before you realized, your head spinning at the sudden change in position.

Spreading your legs for him, your teeth dug into your bottom lip to muffle a whimper as one of his hands played with your clit while the other pumped his cock easily with the wetness you’d left on it. With a low groan, he came over your folds in slow, thick spurts and you felt your walls clench around nothing as his warm spend mingled with the wetness that clung to your skin.

You didn’t have time to catch your breath before suddenly, a pair of strong hands turned you. Steve spread your thighs and buried himself in your warmth in one, quick stroke; you let out a gasp as he filled you perfectly, “Oh!”

“Shit, baby. I just need to finish inside this tight little pussy…” He found a fast rhythm, knowing you both felt the tension growing low in your stomachs, the coil tightening as you tried to hold off your pleasure, “Love to feel this little cunt squeezin’ around me—you’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes…” You nodded breathlessly, his forehead pressed to yours as he locked eyes with you, his pupils eclipsing the seafoam irises that you always fell into.

Cupping your cheek, he traced his thumb over your swollen lip, taunting quietly, “You didn’t forget about Daddy, did you? Not when Mr. Barnes was in your pussy?”

“No, daddy!” Your thighs tightened around his hips, your body begging for more from him. Shaking your head, you moaned as he hit your g-spot over and over, making your toes curl, “Love your cock so much. Always need it so bad…”

“You need me to fill you up, petal? Remind you who you really belong to?”

“Only you, daddy…” You nodded, rocking your hips against his fruitlessly as you tried to hasten the release that you’d been denied, “Please?”

“That’s right, baby.” Steve grinned, a hand on the back of your head pulling you close so he could crash his lips to yours. His tongue twisted with yours and he let out a low groan into your mouth as your cunt began to flutter around him, “You coming again already? Good girl. Love this sweet little pussy, wrapped around me so fuckin’ tight. Go ahead, petal. One more time. Come on my cock, let me feel you squeeze for me. Show me who you belong to, baby. Show daddy who you belong to…”

His words made you forget you weren’t alone.

You felt your legs shaking as he ground his pubic bone carefully against your clit, forcing the coil deep in your stomach to finally snap. You both watched where your bodies were joined as your nails dug into his shoulders and your hips jerked. Squeezing your eyes shut as stars burst in your vision, you felt yourself squirt once again, soaking his cock as he gave one final thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

His length pulsed as emptied himself into your sensitive cunt, your walls pulsing over and over as they milked his cock. Finally, drawing himself out, he hummed low and watched with dark eyes as the white, pearlescent cream slipped from your channel. Using his thumb, he guided your combined spend back inside of your hole.

Squirming did nothing to get him away from your overstimulated sex and you were too exhausted to do anything more than whimper at his touch as the aftershocks wracked your body. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he cooed softly, “Yeah, that’s it, baby. Look at you, holding on to my cum just like that…”

His hand cupped your cheek as you slurred out, sore but sated with a blissful smile, “Thank you, daddy…”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest as he pressed a uncharacteristically soft kiss to your swollen lips, “You’re welcome, petal.”

The way his tongue moved with yours was languorous and you sighed discontentedly once he withdrew his lips, wanting more.

Easily picking you up from where you’d been sat against the cool wood of his desk, Steve smiled as you buried your face in his neck, taking a deep breath of the clean cologne that still clung to his skin from that morning. Your lips brushed against his throat affectionately and you could feel his mouth tilt up into a little smile from where it was pressed to the top of your hair.

Zipping up his trousers, already half-hard again, James shook his head and grabbed his jacket, folding it over his arm like he was leaving a business meeting rather than having just fucked you hard and fast, “You’re a lucky son of a bitch, Rogers.”

Calling over his shoulder, already carrying you down the hall to your shared room, Steve shot back with a grin, “And don’t I know it.”

#marvel fanfic #steve rogers x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut #all the nicest places #maddie writes spice #maddie writes oneshots #steve rogers x reader #ceo!bucky barnes #sugar daddy!steve rogers #mine

[buckyshusband0]

My Sugar Baby; Mood Board

“You don’t understand how hard I want to fuck you, Y/N.”

✦ 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

#chris evans x male reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans moodboard #steve rogers moodboard #sugar daddy!steve rogers #chris evans smut #chris evans angst #buckyshusband0MB

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Sugar and Spice*

Chapter Fifteen

Master List |  Steve Rogers Master List  | Series Master List

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Pairing: Lawyer!Steve Rogers x OFC Rowan Maddox

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, smut

A/N: This chapter brought to you by cs-please through coffee updates! Thank you, peach!

I do not tag. For notifications on the story, please follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library​​ or subscribe to it on AO3. An account is required to access my work on AO3. For more information on how to get your FREE AO3 account, see this post.

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#sugar and spice #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #sugar daddy au #sugar daddy!steve rogers #no daddy kink #no powers #avengers au

[evansbby]

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sugar daddy!Ari Levinson x naive!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: sugar daddy Ari, age gap, smutt, daddy!kink, ab riding, dirty talk.

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Your sugar daddy decides to dress you up in a costume of his choice for Halloween.

𝐀/𝐍: Random spontaneous Halloween "drabble" that is 3.8k words long lol. Inspired by the hottest daddy of them all, Ari Levinson, and his gorgeous abs. Hence the gif. Enjoy! And Happy Halloween, despite the fact that this drabble is not spooky at all.

“Twirl for me again, princess.”

Ari leans back against the headboard of his king-sized bed, his blue eyes dark as navy as he brings his glass of scotch up to his lips and takes a sip. His gaze is stuck on you as he lounges relaxedly, still dressed in his suit from work. Well, you’d taken his jacket off and loosened his tie for him before he’d patted you on your bum and sent you to your dressing room to try on the new costume he’d got for you.

You’d only been seeing Ari for two months. And by “seeing” you meant you’d only been his sugar baby for about two months, when you’d met him at the cocktail bar where you worked as a waitress. He’d come by one night with a bunch of his colleagues (all of them in expensive suits, clearly extremely wealthy). That notion had been confirmed when he’d pressed a few hundred-dollar bills into your hand at the end of the night, his eyes looking at you expectantly as if he knew you’d give him your number.

You had, of course. What followed was two months filled with expensive gifts, a hefty weekly allowance, a new designer wardrobe, glittering jewels and some incredible sex to top it all off. You’d gotten to know Ari in many different ways these past sixty days. But what you didn’t know he was so big on Halloween.

Your “costume” was for Ari’s eyes only, as he’d warningly told you when he’d handed you the shopping bag. And there was no way you could’ve worn it anywhere else: the baby pink satin negligee barely reached mid-thigh, but it was so breathtakingly pretty, so dainty with the lacy white trim and matching satin white gloves. The back was almost completely exposed, showcasing the pretty pink lace panties you had on underneath (with a heart-shaped cut-out that exposed your bum). A sparkly tiara on your head completed the look.

He'd dressed you as his little princess.

“How come you don’t have a costume, Ari?” You ask as you twirl around for him slowly, trying not to topple over in the expensive white pumps he’d also made you wear.

Ari licks his lips, beckoning you closer with just a look. He’d trained you well in the two months he’d had you, moulding you into his perfect angel who leapt at his slightest command. It was easy, since you were so cute and innocent, and so happy to please him. All he had to do was look at you a certain way and you’d jump to obey him. He watches you closely now, looking so precious and hot in your little princess costume (or lingerie, rather) and your lips part as you eagerly move closer to him, almost tripping in your heels to do so.

He chuckles, “I’m too old to be dressing up for Halloween, sweetheart.”

You pout, “You’re not old, Ari! You’re just perfect!”

He can’t help but smile at your cuteness and naivety; he really had plucked up the prettiest and most innocent little girl with a heart of pure gold.

“That’s real sweet of you, baby. Now turn around and bend over for me so I can see that cute baby ass.” He takes another sip of his scotch. You’d made him his favourite drink the moment he’d walked into his penthouse apartment where you’d been waiting for him like the delectable little treat you were – sweeter than any Halloween candy, and he could ravage you forever without ever feeling sick.

You giggle, feeling slightly rebellious. You’d had a few sips of wine before he’d come home, your anticipations running high whilst you waited impatiently for him. He was like a drug to you, with his rugged good looks and muscular body and charming smile. You were also incredibly attracted to the power he wielded; Ari owned and was the CEO of multiple companies across the globe, and for the life of you, you couldn’t imagine how he’d ever decided to ask for your number that one fateful night two months ago.

“But Ari, since I’m a princess tonight, that means I’m royalty. Which means I don’t have to follow anyone’s orders but my own, right?” You smile triumphantly.

Ari looks infinitely amused as he runs his hand through his unruly hair, his other hand inching down to palm his clothed crotch.

“Little princesses like you still have to take orders from their daddy,” he informs you, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you teeter in your high heels. “Which, by the way, is what you should be addressing me as. You call me Ari one more time and I’ll take you over my knee. I don’t care if it’s Halloween.”

You pout harder, looking so extra cute that Ari has to pace himself from reaching over and grabbing you right then and there. He’s waited to dress you up in this costume for a while now, though, and he knows he needs to savour it.

“That’s a good little princess,” he murmurs in approval once you turn around and bend over, giving him the perfect view of your cute ass. “Look at those pretty little princess panties, hugging that cute baby ass. You like your panties, baby?”

“Y-Yeah,” you pant, and he knows you’re turned on by his words. “Thank you, daddy, I really like them.”

“You like being my little princess?”

“Yes, daddy. Wanna be your princess forever.”

Ari can’t help but crack a smile at how cute you are, and when you say things like that, he just wants to gather you in his arms and plant a thousand kisses to your face, cuddle with you and buy you whatever you please. But he has to keep a strong resolve tonight, because he’s been waiting for an opportunity to ravage you in your princess costume for ages now, and he’s been working overtime at the office and he knows he deserves this.

“Daddy? Can I stop bending over now? It’s startin’ to hurt.”

Ari swirls his glass of scotch around absentmindedly, a wicked look crossing his face, “Soon, baby. First, I want you to spank yourself.”

You gasp, and then there’s a pause.

“M-Me? Spank myself?”

“You heard me, baby. I won’t repeat myself.”

You reach back gingerly, squeezing your eyes shut because you’ve got your back to him and you know he can’t see (usually, he always demands you keep your eyes open). You give your behind a tentative little slap, feeling embarrassed to say the least.

“Harder, sweetheart. How can you be a princess if you don’t have a firm hand?” You can hear the smugness in his voice, and it just turns you on more. You know your new princess panties are soaked through, and you wonder if he can tell.

“B-But I don’t wanna have a firm hand,” you whimper, already feeling very submissive. You like it when he spanks you (although it hurts but it hurts so good). But you spanking yourself? It’s embarrassing. It turns you on because you’re doing it for him, but it’s still embarrassing.

“Are you talking back to me, baby?” Ari’s eyes are hooded with lust as he openly palms his dick.

“Sorry, daddy,” you bite your lip before giving your ass another slap – harder this time. And Ari exhales slowly as he watches your ass jiggle cutely, and he commands you to hit yourself again, to not stop until he says so. And he watches you spank yourself, turned on beyond belief at your complete submission.

“Fuck, you have such a cute ass, baby. Squeeze it for me.” He orders you, voice gruff and strained because of how horny he is.

You obey, squeezing the soft flesh through your barely-there panties. Ari’s fingers itch to touch you himself, make you mewl with pleasure just with his touch the way only he could. Because he’s the only one who’s ever touched you like that, who ever would touch you like that. You were his baby, his little princess and he’d take care of you forever.

“Stop. Now come here.”

You swallow, straightening up to walk over to him, except he stops you again by just a look.

“No, baby. On your knees. Daddy wants you to crawl.”

You decide to test your luck one last time, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes, “But daddy, I’m supposed to be a princess and not a kitten. And princesses don’t crawl.”

Ari rolls his eyes, “You’ll do as I say. Baby princesses like you still need to obey their daddy because you’re not in charge, got that?”

“Y-Yeah, I got it.” You sink down to your knees and slink over to him, making sure to sway your hips as you crawl because you know he loves that. And you love how he looks at you darkly, his eyes so blown out with lust and want. As if he’s restraining himself from just grabbing you and fucking you. Because you know how virile he is, how high his sex drive is.

“That’s my good little girl,” he coos, making you feel all special. You stop at the foot of the bed and he reaches down, petting the top of your head, stroking your hair like you’re some kind of pet. Your sparkly tiara falls lopsided, but manages to stay on your head. But you like how he strokes you, you like how affectionate it feels, and so you nuzzle up into his palm, wanting him to stroke you some more.

Instead, he grabs a handful of your hair and yanks you up, manhandling you as if you’re his little baby, till he’s got you nestled on top of him, and you can feel his hard dick underneath you. A wicked look in his eye, he straightens your tiara before patting your cheek condescendingly.

“How’re you enjoying Halloween so far, princess?”

You mull over it, trying not to focus on his hard dick directly underneath your butt. “It’s nice. This is the first time in a few years that I’ve stayed in for Halloween, instead of going to a party.”

This was true, since being at college for the past two years meant that you always went out on Halloween.

“Oh yeah? You’d rather be at a frat party right now?” Ari’s hands land on your hips, grinding you down against his dick so that you’re effectively dry humping him. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head, and you made grabby hands at him but he holds you at bay.

“No, no, no!” You answer desperately, trying to lean forward to kiss him but he holds you in place firmly, “Would much rather be with you, daddy. I love you so much.”

Ari can feel his heart melting fast. You’re just so delectable and cute, blinking up at him with those gorgeous eyes of yours. And it had been so easy for you to fall in love with him, you’d told him so only two weeks into your whirlwind romance. He’d taken you out on his private yacht, and he’d bought you the prettiest sailor outfit, and you’d clung to him because you were scared you might fall overboard because of how clumsy you were.

But you’d looked so pretty as the salty sea air rushed over your face, and how you just wouldn’t let go of his hand. You couldn’t stop smiling either, and when he’d kissed you on the deck, holding you firm against the railing as the sun set into the ocean behind you, that’s when you’d whispered it breathlessly against his lips. Like you couldn’t keep it in any longer: I love you.

You’d tried to tug away from him after that, embarrassed at how you’d let your inner feelings slip out so soon into your relationship with him. But you couldn’t help it, he just made you feel so safe, so alive, so wonderful, so you. You’d tried to make a hasty exit, making up an excuse that you had to make a phone call, and praying he hadn’t heard you whisper those three forbidden words…

But Ari had heard you, and his heart had swelled in a way he never thought it could. He’d entered this relationship with you because he needed someone to take care of, and well, you were so hot the night he’d first seen you. So pretty and innocent and lovely. And then he’d gotten to know you, and you were so lively, and made him feel so youthful, made him feel so powerful and important, made him feel like he had to protect you while you danced around his life and made him laugh and cheered him up the way only you could.

He’d held you tightly against him that night on the yacht, not letting you slip away as he’d cupped your beautiful face in his hands, and he’d told you that he loved you too, more than he’d ever loved anyone else. And the look on your face, that look of utter devotion and awe, like you had stars in your eyes – he wished he could bottle it up inside a jar and keep that look safe forever.

That’s how you’re looking at him now, in your cute little princess lingerie, and your lips are begging to be kissed. Ari can’t stand it any longer, and he grabs you by the back of the neck and pulls you down, pressing his lips on yours in a heady kiss.

“You’ve been waiting for tonight, haven’t you?” He breathes against your lips.

You swallow harshly and nod. Of course you had, the moment he’d texted you this morning telling you to be ready for him at his apartment when he got home. That was obvious code that he was going to ruin you tonight, and the pretty princess costume was just the cherry on top of the cake.

Biting your lip, you shyly untuck his shirt from his pants and lift it up, revealing his toned, hairy abs. God, he was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen – with an amazing, buff body that was twice the size of yours. He was bigger than you in every single way possible, and you sigh as your fingers run over the deep ridges of his tanned six pack.

Ari snorts, “Like what you see, princess?”

“Uh huh. You’re so hot.” You blurt out.

“Thank you, baby. Why don’t you give me your panties?”

The way he so casually redirects the conversation has your cheeks feeling hot and your pussy clenching in anticipation. Taking your panties off while straddling his crotch proves to be difficult, but you’re nimble enough to make it work. The lace is wet with your juices and your cheeks heat up even more as you hand your panties to him.

Ari brings the lacy material up to his nose, sniffing in your pretty scent. God, he wanted to be buried with your scent if it was possible. He can’t help but find the gusset, sucking the silk into his mouth and tasting your juices.

“You’re so sweet, princess.” He mutters, before shoving the panties in his pocket.

“I’m all wet, daddy,” you pout, knowing your wetness has seeped over to stain his pants as you sit on top of his crotch.

“Oh yeah?” Ari feigns disinterest, busying himself with another sip of his scotch. “Is your little baby cunt getting needy?”

“Yeah!”

“You want daddy to take care of her? Your little cunt?”

You throb at his words, “Yes, please!”

He makes no move to put his scotch away. “I think I’d rather watch you, princess. You can rub yourself on me to make yourself cum.”

You shudder at how casually he says it, but at the same time bite your lip, “B-But daddy, I feel so empty down there. Need you inside me, pretty please?”

Ari pretends to mull over it, “I don’t know, gorgeous, your baby pussy’s awfully tight. I don’t think I’d even get a finger in.” (That was true, you were super tight, but he could work you open in a matter of minutes. He always did, after all, but he wants you to work for an orgasm tonight).

You grab his hand and push it between your legs, feeling like you’re about to go into heat by how turned on you are. “Y-You could stretch me open, daddy, I-I don’t mind! Just wanna feel you inside me.”

“Maybe later, sweetie,” Ari murmurs, indulgently brushing your hair off your face and pulling your cheek when you pout. Of course, he definitely intended to fill you up real good, fuck both your holes silly with his cock and his tongue and his fingers. But the night was still young, and right now he wanted a show while he enjoyed his drink. “C’mon, baby, it’s Halloween. Even a princess has to work a little to get her treat.”

He picks you up by your waist, placing you on his hairy abs, which are rock hard just like his cock which is still in the confines of his pants.

You grab on to his shoulders to steady yourself, before you start moving. And oh, it feels absolutely heavenly, your quivering pussy rubbing against his hard abs, the hair on his torso catching against your swollen clit and immediately making you moan.

“F-Feels so good, daddy,” you whimper, and it makes Ari smile at how cute you are. How much you love it when he makes you feel good, how you selfishly chase after your own pleasure whenever you can because he knows it’s never felt this good for you before. You don’t have to tell him that he’s the best you’ve ever had – he can see it in your eyes every time.

“Yeah? Is your cute baby cunt getting some relief? You enjoy using your daddy like this?” He mutters lowly, pinching your hip to make you move faster as he takes another sip of his scotch. His cock is incredibly tight still confined to his pants, and he’d have loved for you to grind against his cock instead but he knows he would’ve blown his load because of the friction paired with how hot you look right now.

“You enjoy dressing up like a little princess and giving your daddy a show?” He continues, feeling the beast inside him awaken as you whimper so cutely on top of him. With his fingers gripping your hip tightly, he roughly drags you back and forth over his abs, “That’s right, slutty baby, make a mess all over daddy, you like that, don’t you?”

“Yes!” You cry, getting to that point where everything that leaves your mouth is either a plea or incoherent gibberish and crying. That’s when you get so submissive that there isn’t a single thought in your head, and Ari’s sure he could make you do absolutely anything when you’re in that mindset.

His stomach is wet with your cream, and you’re grinding against him desperately now, and he knows you’ll cum any second because it doesn’t take much to get you to cum. He remembers doing this a lot with you in the early days of the relationship, when he knew for a fact you’d need a lot of prep before you could take his big, fat dick inside your pussy. So he’d made you grind on his torso instead, like how you were doing now, as a sort of practice before the real sex. And it’s like you’d never been pleasured before in your life because you came so quickly, over and over again, squirting all over him and begging for him to put it inside you.

Clearly, nothing had changed in two months.

He downs his scotch before setting the glass aside on his bedside table. Then he licks his lips, hand slipping down between your legs. He spreads your folds and you gasp, rocking your hips faster as you feel more now, your clit rubbing deliciously against his abs.

“C’mon, princess,” he urges, moving you up and down on his abs harder, “make yourself cum, baby, squirt all over daddy like the good little girl I know you can be. Like all good princesses squirt on their daddies. You wanna be a good princess, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do!”

“Say it, then.”

“W-Wanna be a good princess for you, daddy. Wanna be so good!” Your face is glistening with sweat and tears, and you’re working so hard for your release. He knows all he has to do is rub your clit once or twice, or even just press against it and you’d cum. But he wants you to work for it, so he can praise you for it and then reward you for making yourself cum with minimal help from daddy.

“You’re daddy’s sexy little princess,” Ari murmurs lowly, pulling you down by the neck till your face is buried in the crook of his neck, and you bite at his skin and cry and moan his name as he talks, “you’re doing such a good job, baby, rubbing that baby cunt all over daddy’s abs. You’re so good for me, baby, so fucking good and I love you so much. Daddy loves you so much, honey. More than anything in the world.”

You squirt all over his stomach, your sweet cream covering ever ridge and dip of his muscular torso. You cry and cry, like how you often do when you’re overwhelmed when orgasming, grabbing at his face and kissing him, and he kisses you back fervently, allowing you to make out with him because he knows how overwhelmed and good you feel.

“That’s such a good girl,” he praises you, rubbing your back as you quiver in his arms, and he can feel your pussy quivering too, “such a good fucking girl, you worked so hard, baby and I’m so proud of you.”

“L-Love you so much, daddy,” you whimper pitifully, your poor tiara finally falling off your head, and Ari wants to chuckle at how spent you look, how exhausted you look from rubbing your pussy on him for a couple of minutes. He reminds himself to get you a bottle of water in a few minutes once you’ve calmed down, because he knows he’ll be keeping you busy for the better part of tonight and he wants you to have the energy for it.

But for now, he’ll let you rest for a few minutes. You snuggle up into his chest, breathing hard as you try to catch your breath. Ari pours himself another scotch, and lights up his cigar, taking a long drag before blowing the smoke out in your direction.

“Happy Halloween, sweetheart,” he grins wickedly, and you lift your head up slightly to offer him a weak smile. “Now put your tiara back on, princess. The night’s not over yet.”

AKSHDSAJGA WHAT DO YOU THINK???? PLEASE LET ME KNOW THIS WAS EXTREMELY SPONTANEOUS AFNKLAGNSKAL I JUST AM OBSESSED WITH SUGAR DADDY ARI AND HIS ABS BYE.

anyways lemme know what you think and pls do reblog and leave any feedback thank you ily

#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #sugar daddy ari

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Okay, I admit defeat, I cannot keep myself from writing a little something based on this post from @howdoyousleep3

You gotta read the original post, but, essentially... trust fund baby Buck hiring a Daddy because he wants to be taken care of 🥺

For visuals:

This Bucky

gifs by @/fucklinski

With this Steve

Something about this AU just gives me sweater-wearing Daddy, okay?

Aaaand this got out of hand (as every "short" drabble I try to write does) so:

Warning for hurt/comfort, slight homophobia, drugs/alcohol use (drugs are all in the background though), explicit sexual content, semi-public play, daddy kink, fisting 👀, dirty talk, feminization, breath play, etc., etc.

Anyway, this is like fucking 5k words oops...

Hey, Alexa? Play “Life Of The Party” by The Weeknd then "National Anthem" by Lana Del Ray

Trust fund baby Buck spends all of his time at clubs, parties, events, and any sort of socializing event that is required for someone of his status--of his family's status.

All in all, though, he genuinely loves people. He loves the over-the-top parties, he enjoys the decadence of expensive drinks--most of them alcoholic ever since the second he turned 18 (because it's the European thing to do)--and he flourishes in these spaces. The attention. The social butterfly-ness of it all

…Usually.

Usually he loves it all.

Yet, as he’s grown into his own adult person a little more he’s begun to realize one thing; it’s not as lovely and shiny as it used to feel.

Bucky knows, in part, it’s because he’s simply not a child any longer.

But he also knows it’s because he’s gay. And because he’s lonely. Yes, he’s lonely in part because he’s gay and old money leans more… well, it isn’t called the Grand Old Party for no reason, so, yeah, he’s a little lonely because even within the group of trust fund babies his age, they’re lagging behind pop culture. They’re not, like, spitting on him or swearing at him out of homophobia. And good ol’ pops isn’t disowning him or denying him of their fortune, but… no one has ever asked him if he’s seen any cute boys. No one asked him--when he came out--if he’d even kissed a boy yet. No one asked him about his crushes. No one suggests, oh, look at that dashing (equally rich and) young man, you should go talk to him--you could marry him! Bucky gets nothing of the sort. His sexuality is ignored. The best he got upon coming out was a tight-lipped smile and a nod.

More and more Bucky yearns for community.

Also, Bucky’s lonely because he can’t exactly see a future here. How’s he supposed to find a partner like he wants if everyone is lowkey(?) homophobic?

Also ×2, he’s lonely despite the excess of this lifestyle because… he’s probably always been lonely. Not to blame his parents for all of his problems, but, when your parents are too rich, too busy, and too good to raise their own child--always handing them off to the help with a poorly disguised face of disgust for a child that is simply crying and drooly and snotty because, well, it’s a child--that does something to said child.

No matter how lovely the help is, no matter how bonded he felt to the help, they cannot replace parents you can’t reach. And parents you can’t ever reach, you can't impress, and you can't please since they’ve had everything they could wish for from the time they were young is also problematic for a growing human. At least Bucky was always good at socializing. That (sometimes) seems to please his parents. And it's been very beneficial to Bucky over the years.

Ever since Bucky was able to talk, he’s bounced around any event he was taken to, conversing with everyone and, without even meaning to, ending up with a string of girls behind him. His mother says it’s his smile and his eyes--what girls won’t do for a boy with blue eyes and dimples! His father says it’s his conversation and thanks himself for it, patting Bucky on the shoulder as he roughly and proudly guffaws, “just like his father! Can talk his way out of anything! Could sell a breathing man air!”

Any interest in the people he strung along, without meaning to, faded fast. Every time.

So, he’s lonely.

He's craving companionship.

And since Bucky came out when he was 17, he has been looking for a partner. He’s gotten lucky here and there with hook-ups (most fueled by too much champagne, some drugs he'd rather not admit to having taken, or charged by the fact they were sneaking away to do it somewhere they DEFINITELY weren't supposed to), one-off dates (all his dates comprised of people he met at galas or whatever and always the same social class, never lower), and even a couple handful of months-long relationships (done mostly for show even if Bucky did like them… he really wanted to show everyone he was capable of settling down!).

But by this point, this many tries deep, none of them have been The One and, hell, none of them have even been that good.

Bucky's just tired of prancing around searching blindly for what he wants when he damn well knows what he wants--what he wishes for, eyes shut, sliding down the inside of the door to his brownstone, sighing, day-dreaming and what he craves when he curls up in his massive bed, alone, surrounded by an ocean of sheets with too many pillow islands, eyes shut, beginning to breathe heavily, waking up certain parts of himself… hands wandering down his own body… night-dreaming 👀

He knows what he wants. It's so hard to find though.

And he’s about to throw in the towel (yes, he’s aware he’s still in his early- to mid-20s, and yes, he’s that dramatic) when…

He goes to a bar after another event.

He just needs to be around “normal” people, feeling especially tired that night of lofty, wealthy people. (He’s also a little sick of himself since he knows he isn’t always that much better when it comes down to it)

And at this bar, he sees Steve--he sees this man at the other end of the bar. The man is larger than life, sitting on a bar stool at the counter, the other end of the bar from where Bucky sits, with broad shoulders swathed in a thick, dark sweater and big hands wrapped around a glass. As he lifts the glass to drink, he chats with the bartender.

This stranger is older with handsome crow's feet at the corners of his eyes and grays beginning to come into his beard as well as spreading back through his hair from his temples.

The man laughs at something the bartender says after swallowing, big and loud and full of obvious enjoyment. It sounds good.

Bucky almost wants to shoo the bartender back over to the mystery man when she comes to refill his sugary cocktail later. He would much rather she make him laugh again.

But, instead…

Bucky buys him a drink, tipping her exorbitantly yet again to make sure it’s the best he can get. Bucky would buy the handsome stranger what he’s having already but doesn’t recognize what’s in his glass, nor that particular type of glass, and he’s feeling more creative than just asking her so he just bluntly asks--

“What’s the most expensive drink you have?” The bartender looks at him funny but tells him regardless. “I’ll get that then," he doesn't even wait for her to say how much it costs, "just not for me--” Bucky tips his head in the mystery man’s direction “--give it to him.”

She does as he asks, sliding the glass across the table to the other man and saying something he doesn’t catch but she looks over to him after. The bartender and Bucky make eye contact again.

Bucky looks away, from her and the man. He's unable to watch the older man refuse it. Bucky doesn't even know if he's gay. He doesn't know why he did it… he just…

Bucky hopes it’s good alcohol. Not to be a picky brat but… his cocktail isn’t very good even with the alcohol hidden behind juice and lots of sugar, so he can’t imagine most of their drinks must be good. It’s just a little neighborhood, almost a dive bar anyway. The more expensive, the smoother the liquor. He knows as such. High-quality champagne goes down like candy.

He hopes this guy appreciates the smoother taste. (If the guy doesn't come over and punch him for being gay.)

Bucky swallows another mouthful of his unsatisfactory cocktail. He barely has it down when the guy approaches him. He has scooped up the new drink in one of those big hands. He must've finished or abandoned his other. And--

He’s smiling as he approaches, apparently as easy-going as he looks in that thick sweater and worn baseball cap.

Handsome and easy-to-please sits down next to him. Playfully mentioning that it looks like things should be the other way around, he should be buying something for Bucky--if Bucky is even old enough to drink? How’d he get in here anyway? It's not the glitzy, flashing-light nightclub he'd expect for a young person.

Bucky internally sighs, if only this was the most debauched place he’s been… but, externally, Bucky tells him, of course, I'm old enough. I've just always had a baby face.

Well, then, even if you're old enough, I'm still right! He grins. Steve--he gives Bucky his name finally--should be buying him a drink instead! Not that it’s hurt Steve’s pride or anything, he just is pretty sure Bucky’s got more important things to spend his money on than buying strangers drinks, like, student loans, partying with kids his age, or actually starting a savings account.

Bucky laughs, harder than he means to, at the examples. He feels lost tonight. The laughter means he ends up having to explain himself, who he is--rather who his father is and who his grandfather was. He doesn’t need another savings account, he already has too many. He bites his tongue before saying he has too much money, which is true but… he's never said that out loud before.

What is going on with him tonight?! He's not even drunk or high!

Steve, however, is obviously taken aback, blue eyes widening. But he tries to hide it. It’s sweet. He continues to treat him like a regular person after he admits it.

It feels real.

Bucky feels like it's not a big deal. Steve even shrugged! If only it was real… not just one night. One moment.

Except…

They talk for a long time.

Bucky buys Steve more drinks. Bucky assumes Steve’s going to take him home or at least back to the bathroom. He wants it. Steve looks like he'd be good at holding and grabbing and fucking. Bucky wants all of that. Steve doesn’t ask though.

And when Bucky asks--would you like to get out of here? Steve cocks his head and says, “we’re drinking.” his eyes also say, I'm so much older than you, are you sure? Am I sure?, but he doesn't voice it.

“Yeah? So?”

“I’d rather not be a drunk hookup.”

“I wouldn’t have to be drunk to hookup with you.”

“You’re sweet,” he says as if Bucky has given him a genuine compliment rather than telling him he’s fuckable, “but still, you’re tipsy. I’m tipsy, so…” He shrugs like that explanation is enough.

Bewildered Bucky asks, “really?”

“As much as I want to take you up on the offer, yeah. We're not really in any state to decide to do that. I don’t think I am at least.”

Huh.

Bucky’s never encountered someone so… responsible? Bucky doesn’t actually know if he's being responsible, but it feels that way. But… okay, sure, not how he thought his night would go, although that's been his entire night, so he might as well keep the punches rolling.

They talk more.

They talk about everything.

And, suddenly, the bar is getting ready to close! Bucky doesn't know where the time has gone. All he knows is that he unthinkingly pays Steve’s tab plus his own. Steve blushes a little in the low bar lighting. And he ends up cracking a few more unserious jokes about role reversal. Their ages. Their income. Their savings. Their lives. The way this should be the other way around if anything.

His jokes give Bucky some ideas…

Ideas that come out of his mouth rather than staying inside his mind because Bucky is only now actually tipsy (he may be young but good, expensive alcohol since he turned 18 will give anyone a high tolerance… especially someone who indulges as often as Bucky does).

Steve might be drunk or humoring him massively because he agrees (with some convincing (less convincing than Bucky expected though)) that they could try that. If Bucky is serious. But not while they're drunk. Again, not while they're drunk.

They exchange phone numbers instead.

Bucky calls his driver to pick him up--he could pay the ticket for driving himself home, no problem, but he's not that much of an ass (or that dumb). He also offers Steve a ride but, apparently, this bar isn’t too far from the place he calls home. And he wants to walk home. Sober up some. Breathe some fresh air so he doesn’t have quite the hangover when he wakes up. Right, hangovers. Another difference in age. Bucky doesn't really get those yet despite how much he drinks.

Anyway, Steve promises to text Bucky later. When he gets home and then even later, about that idea.

I made iit bacj

Bucky recalls the encounter in the morning, waking up with the stale taste of cheap alcohol in his mouth and a single text in his phone. But, he doesn’t know if Steve remembers, beyond that misspelled, drunk text. So he waits.

And waits.

And waits…

Steve does not text him.

Steve does not text him for the entire day after their encounter. And you can call Bucky a spoiled brat who has never had to wait for a goddamn thing in his life, but that wouldn't stop Bucky from being a little upset and impatient. He felt something with Steve! Or he thought he did and--

He wants to believe, desperately, that Steve felt it to.

So, Bucky texts Steve first. He waits a day and a half before caving.

Steve responds: Honestly, I didn’t text you because I couldn’t convince myself that I didn’t dream up last night. Plus, if I didn’t dream it, I hadn’t yet convinced myself that you were serious. Sorry to leave you wondering.

He might just be charming Bucky, calling him a dream, to get at the money that he offered him--Bucky’s had plenty of people do that, use him, trying to get at his wealth, but… he doesn’t care. Let Steve use him for the money if that’s all this is going to be. Steve was just so warm. And Bucky wants more of it. He was freezing. He is freezing, maybe even more so now that he's felt just how good that warmth is.

So…

Over the coming weeks, they text back and forth, explaining themselves, getting to know each other, then arranging a time and place to meet to discuss an actual arrangement.

Companionship for money.

Bucky was serious. He's more serious now. He doesn't want Steve to fade away, he likes him too much, but what else can Bucky offer him than money? Steve seems happy. He's old enough he has his own life with a job and purpose. Not like Bucky.

So, Steve will provide the companionship and Bucky will provide the money.

It takes a while to meet up again, after the bar, because everywhere Bucky suggests they get together, private places, are all places Steve can’t get into (country clubs, lavish nightclubs) or hasn’t ever been to (expensive hotels, secretive businesses off the commonly walked path, whatever). Steve asks, eventually, if he might just come over to Bucky’s house after Bucky shoots down Steve's idea of a cafe because, no, too public. Too high of a risk of paparazzi. Bucky is embarrassed he didn’t think of the simple things. Starbucks. Someone's apartment. A park. God. A country club? That was the best he could come up with?!

Either way, they meet and discuss.

An agreement is made.

Weekly allowances for Steve in the form of money that goes straight to one of his bank accounts (a flat rate with additional “bonuses” depending on how much time Steve spends with Bucky), all his to do whatever he pleases with, and money that goes into an account Steve controls but that is meant for Bucky--money meant for Steve to use to buy things for Bucky. It’s not Steve’s money, not really, but they pretend it is.

Extra money will be added for private events, public events (if Bucky decides he wants that), or other "large" things.

They also discuss what companionship will be exactly. Texting. Phone calls. Breakfast/lunch/dinner dates. Cuddling. Binge-watching shows. Maybe outings to spas or events or parties--if Steve will come with him. And…

Steve, this time, is the one to bring up sex. “Is that going to be a part of this?”

“Can it be?” Bucky asks, blushing and helplessly flicking his eyes down to Steve's body. Those shoulders. That chest. His thighs and what's between them, packed into his slim-fit jeans enticingly.

“Let me think about it,” Steve says steadily, unembarrassed. Once he texted Bucky, in a very non-judgemental way, but I'm not a sex worker, as if he were puzzled that he ended up here. Or puzzled that Bucky wasn't just going for a sex worker. But… he seems to be figuring his own emotions out. Bucky lets him. They move on. Discussing other things.

Eventually, Steve goes home.

A week passes.

Steve agrees that sex can be part of it via a phone call. Bucky tries to not react too strongly and wires him money to go and get an STI test even though he knows Steve can afford it himself. Bucky gets one too for himself.

But, when the results are in, both of them infection-free, sex doesn’t happen immediately. It’s more PG-companionship at first.

~~~

Steve comes over after he finishes work to eat dinner with Bucky, prepared by the help. They chat. They drink with dinner. Bucky soaks in every moment of it. Steve doesn't compliment his non-cooking but he does compliment Bucky's outfit. (He does tell the help they've done wonderfully when they come to collect the plates though.) Bucky wants to roll around in his voice, rumbly and perfect. He resists the urge to immediately have Steve over again the next evening.

He limits himself to bi-weekly at most for the first month. But… he can't keep it that sparse for too long. Steve's company is incredible.

So, dinner happens again and again.

They get comfortable around each other.

They move beyond dinner soon enough. And Steve goes shopping with Bucky, dutifully complimenting every item he puts on and how good he looks in it. Bucky watches Steve pick up things he likes--Bucky can see it on his face--and put them down immediately after seeing the price tag with a horrified noise in the back of his throat. Bucky blurts out, "just fucking get it," the sixth or seventh time it happens. Steve laughs, raising an eyebrow at him, and makes another joke. Something about having unknowingly acquired a sugar daddy. Being allowed to buy exorbitantly priced things. Luxury things.

Then, it's Bucky's turn to make a horrified sound in the back of his throat. This is just companionship and some sex and--

He wasn't ready to admit to that!

Steve senses something is wrong and apologizes without even knowing what he supposedly did. Bucky brushes it off quickly though. At least, Bucky tries to brush it off but he can't.

He can't shake it.

Hearing "Daddy" in Steve's voice… Fuck. Bucky wants to hear him call himself Daddy again. Bucky wants to call him Daddy.

Goddammit.

Despite his self imposed rules to Not Cross That Boundary With Steve…

Bucky ends up enticing Steve to fuck him for the first time in the high-end brand's dressing room. It'll be fine. He can control himself. He can get fucked without moaning for Daddy, right? He's done it before!

Yet…

With his legs tight around Steve's solid waist, his hands squeezing Steve's biceps tightly, and his teeth biting down on one of those huge shoulders as Steve's thick cock makes room for itself inside him, carving him open, hot and fast and good, he can’t muffle himself fully. One tiny gasp of, "d-daddy!" slips out of him.

And it's over.

Steve hears it and his next thrust is punishing. It's harsh. It fucks his cock right up against Bucky's sweet spot.

Bucky's mouth falls open with an obscene moan.

"Again," Steve whispers, pinching his side at the same time, adding a flicker of pain to their fucking.

Bucky doesn't hear it. He's too busy being fucked.

Steve won't stand for that though. He presses Bucky harder against the dressing room wall. Bucky smacks the back of his head happily on the wall. And, "say it again," Steve whispers again, voice harsher this time. Gritted out between his teeth.

Bucky moans louder.

And so Steve cups a hand over his mouth, squeezing his face with one of those huge, powerful hands, heavily whispering, "you better be quiet, baby. 'Cause you don't wanna get caught with your Daddy fucking your pretty brains out, do you? Don't wanna get banned from this store when you like their stupidly expensive clothes so--so fuckin' much, do you?"

Bucky's eyes roll. back. into. his. head. as he whines, muffled, against Steve's palm.

"Do you?"

Bucky shakes his head as much as he can with his jaw being squeezed like this.

"Didn't think so, no, sweet boy wants his Daddy all to himself. Doesn't he?"

The rush of Daddy calling himself Daddy and calling Bucky sweet boy has him spilling between their bodies.

Fuck.

Bucky ruins their clothes but he doesn't even blink. They'll just wear some of their clothes out of the store. Steve is floored. Jaw dropped. Bucky's gonna buy all of that? A whole new outfit? Did he even look at the tags? Did he even look at how much it costs? Bucky shakes his head. Nope. It doesn't matter. It can't be that expensive.

"Jesus Christ, boy," Steve murmurs, shaking his head and chuckling.

Bucky, playful and high on such a fantastic fucking and orgasm, leans in reeeal close to Daddy. He stretches up onto his tippy-toes. And he bites that beard jaw, purring, "welcome to the high life, Daddy."

Steve groans, his soft cock twitching in his new, expensive slacks.

~~~

And suddenly it's like hearing Bucky say that once, then hooking up and using it, makes everything click in Steve's head.

It's like he suddenly can read Bucky's thoughts. Because somehow he knows exactly what he craves now.

And Steve fucking steps. up. his. game.

He goes from just your average paid-romantic-partner to dream fucking Daddy.

Steve feeds Bucky dinner, balancing the younger man in his lap, telling him he’s good and pretty and everything Bucky knew he craved to hear but also what he didn't know he wanted--he needed to hear. It's a damn religious experience.

Steve gets a key to his brownstone and lets himself in before Bucky returns home to start a bath for him. A bath complete with fancy products that he buys with Bucky in mind and the peachy smell the younger man likes. Once Bucky arrives home, Steve brings him into the bathroom to strip him, jerk him off until he's crumbling into Daddy's chest, weak at the knees, and lower him into the bath he's made. Daddy washes him limb by limb, massaging him as he goes. Then… Daddy lifts him out of the bath and dumps him on his bed to fuck him. Bucky cannot do shit after his bath. God. His head is lolled back, his muscles are all melted, and his noises only come out as puffed, breathy, and overwhelmed things. Daddy teases him affectionately for being a spoiled princess. But, shit, with the way Daddy puts his back into fucking him… it doesn't seem like he minds.

Steve lets Bucky pull him around social events. Wide-eyed and trying not to be the entire time. He often leans into Bucky throughout the night, covertly asking him what the fuck is that? What should I order? Why is it all in french, what the hell? How the fuck do I eat that? What fork again? Which glass? Disguising all of his questions are sweet nothings that make Bucky blush, doted on by his older partner.

~~~

Bucky knows he’s whining the second he starts talking into the receiver of his cell phone after the beep indicating that he needs to leave his message or hang up, “Daddyyy, I hope whatever you’re doing is important enough to excuse you not picking up,” he can't help but huff. He’s had the, like, worst day ever. Already. It's barely 1:00 pm and he has an event to attend tonight. “I just Venmo-ed you your extra allowance-" that's what they've taken to calling the money that Steve gets to spend on Bucky, "-for this week and with the day I’ve had..." he sighs, pinching his brow and forcing himself over the embarrassment of actually asking for what he needs, once in his goddamn life. His cheeks are pink. At least he knows Steve likes it. Him asking for shit. “I want something really nice, please, Daddy? Something that'll help me blow off steam." Bucky blushes more intensely, finishing off with, "I'll see you Friday, Daddy--don't forget my driver is coming by to pick you up--but it'd be good if you could maybe call me before then. Bye-bye”

Steve calls back after work. He must've sped home to call so soon. Bucky smirks, thinking about maybe having to pay for a speeding ticket. Which shouldn't turn him on but… he's been known to have a thing for bad boys here and there 😏

Daddy has good timing with his call, he's just getting changed for tonight's event.

Steve's rumbling voice greets him the second he picks up the call labeled 💖🔥Daddy🔥💖 “tough week, huh, sweet boy? That's okay, Daddy's here to make it better."

Bucky sighs. Already, he feels better. Already, he can feel his brain begin to fade away into a pink, cotton candy haze he seems to always soak in when around Steve.

Yet, Steve's voice gets more mischievous now, "Daddy bought you some pretty things like you deserve but Daddy also bought himself something… you wanna know what he got?"

Bucky nods, frazzled enough to forget Steve can't see him. When he remembers suddenly though, he forces his voice to work, "y-yeah, wanna know."

"There's Daddy's sweet boyy," he coos. He swallows, then, "Daddy bought himself a Rolex."

Oh, oof.

There's another thing that shouldn't turn Bucky on but does… high-end brand names coming out of Steve's plush lips. Something about hearing it makes Bucky's dick hard. He doesn't know what and he doesn't really care to know so long as Steve keeps doing it.

"But you know the secret about what Daddy bought himself today?"

"No," Bucky breathes.

"Well," Steve pauses dramatically, "this watch isn’t just for Daddy. It's for you too, baby boy, 'cause as cute as you are… I know you're a dirty boy too."

Bucky dramatically flops back onto his bed before he can collapse where he had been pacing in his bedroom, in front of the huge mirrored walk-in-closet doors. Knees starting to buckle as his head swims with arousal.

Steve hears him move and chuckles darkly through his next few words, "I know as innocent as you look, you like it rough."

Bucky squeaks despite himself.

"You like it rough and want Daddy to call you sweet names and tell you sweet things, but you want Daddy to fuck you like he hates your guts."

God. Bucky whines, clutching his phone harder. It's true. It's really fucking true.

"And I know better than a collar you'd like Daddy's hand on your throat."

Fuck. His eyes squeeze shut tightly.

"So, what do you think? You think my hand around your throat with this new watch on will make you look extra pretty?"

Bucky's breath stutters. Oh.

"'Cause Daddy thinks you'll look even prettier with a Rolex near your throat. All shiny and sparkly over that blush you always get. Turning red 'cause you're hard for Daddy but also red because Daddy decides when you breathe. Isn't that right, baby?"

Bucky cannot speak. This is entirely unexpected and incredibly perfect. A punch to the gut of pure arousal.

"Daddy decides everything--his pretty boy doesn't have to think when Daddy's home."

"Daddy-" Bucky gasps.

Daddy doesn't even acknowledge it. He doesn't give him room to breathe. He just goes for the kill, "but Daddy also bought something just for you, y’know?"

"No?"

"Mmm, well, let Daddy tell you then. Daddy bought his pretty boy something pretty. You wanna guess what pretty thing it is?"

"Uhh, yuh-yeah?"

Steve pauses. He waits. He prompts, "what then, sweets?" when Bucky can't kick his head into thinking.

Bucky sputters, "uh, jewelry?" He takes a shot in the dark, only thinking about the press of an obscene priced watch, cold and hard, to his throat and chest, Daddy's fingers squeezing his neck tight.

"Nah, try again."

"A toy?"

"Nope." He sounds smug.

"Clothes?"

"Mm-hm, it's some kind of clothes, yup."

"Pretty clothes?"

"Duh," he playfully admonishes.

Bucky breathes a little harder. Clothes, clothes, clothes, what kind of clothes could it be? "A suit?"

"Smaller than a suit."

This game is getting him more wound up than he cares to admit. He's all hot and squirmy on his bed. "A shirt?"

"No. Smaller still."

"Um, okay," Bucky licks his lips, "wh-what about… underwear?"

"Try another word for underwear."

Bucky whines. Oh.

Oh, no.

He--he can't. He can't say that out loud! He knows--he thinks he knows what Daddy bought him--but…

"Daddy wants to hear you say it, c’mon, kitten. Say it for me."

Those words sound like pure sin coming off of his lips, so, of course, he can't resist obeying. "P-panties?"

"Not just panties, baby boy. Daddy got some special panties for his boy."

Oh.

Bucky--

Bucky doesn't know what to do with himself. Jesus. He's so hard. From just talking. He's aching from just talking over the phone. Christ.

"Daddy bought you easy-access panties. And if you fuckin' ruin 'em from being too excited and eager for Daddy, then I'll just have to buy more... 'cause I've got plans for your little body in these little panties."

The way he says these little panties lets Bucky know he has them in his hands. He's touching them. Bucky wants Daddy to touch him. He wants--he, he…

Fuck.

The image of Daddy jerking himself off with panties meant for Bucky wrapped around his hard cock knocks Bucky off his fucking rocker. He moans like he's being fisted. He moans like he's not just lying back on his king-sized bad being dirty talked so, so thoroughly.

"Wanna hear the plan Daddy has for you?"

Bucky nods frantically, making a ridiculous uh-huh sound. He already sounds fucked out.

"Daddy is gonna put these easy-access panties on his boy and slide his fingers into that pretty little cunt. One finger at a time, using that strawberry-scented lube you like, sweet boy. 'M gonna finger you, all without your new, lacy, pink, easy access panties coming off because you're desperate for Daddy and desperate for how filthy and pretty you feel in panties, you dirty boy."

Bucky can't breathe.

He hoarsely whines.

He can't process how hot that sounds, so he has no idea how he'll be able to live through it.

"And even if you clench down on Daddy's fingers and cum we're not stopping. Daddy isn't stopping. No. Daddy's not gonna quit touching that pink, pretty cunt until it's split open on Daddy's fist--"

Bucky instantly pictures those huge hands. His thick, long fingers. Bucky's mouth waters.

Shit.

"--'Cause Daddy wants his new watch on his wrist to touch your greedy, twitching, and wet rim."

Bucky doesn't even… he can't even think. He, his--his lips just move, reckless and unbearably needy, "fuck the fucking party Daddy. You. Here. Now. Please, please, please. Need it. Need you. You hav'ta get here! Daddy!"

Steve chuckles evilly, "okay, okay, Daddy's on his way, sweetheart. Just sit tight. Oh, and, baby-?"

"Wha--"

"Don't you dare touch yourself, Daddy wants your pleasure all to himself. Hands off." He orders.

Bucky whines like a kicked puppy. That's not faaair!

Anyway I hope that was worth the read lmao 🤘🏻

#fandomfluffandfuck #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #au #stevebucky #howdoyousleep3 #reverse sugar daddy

[navybrat817]

Navy's January Fics

Hi, lovelies! Here are my fics and imagines for January. Moodboard by yours truly, banner by @sgt-seabass , and divider by @firefly-graphics .

1/4 - Adventures in Babysitting (Florist!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/6 - Ravenous (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/8 - Insatiable (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/12 - Preliminary (Sugar Daddy!Andy Barber x Reader)

1/15 - Greedy (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/18 - Shatter (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/18 - Cordially Invited: Part 2 (Modern Knight!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader)

1/22 - Worship (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/22 - Opacity (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/24 - Service With a Smile (Mechanic!Bucky Barnes x Reader)

1/25 - Looks Better on You (Lumberjack!Steve Rogers x Reader)

Love and thanks for reading! 💙

#navybrat writes #navybrat masterlist #january embers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #florist!bucky barnes x reader #andy barber x reader #sugar daddy!andy barber x reader #modern knight!bucky barnes x princess!reader #lumberjack!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader

[duchessonfire]

My fic for the @silver-fox-steve-bang. A huge thanks to @christywantspizza for her amazing beta work and to @miratho for this collab!

Summary

Bucky is 24, adrift, his life as an MIT student derailed after losing his parents and his arm in a car accident five years ago.

During the day, he works for Hawkeye Construction & Renovation Company; at night, he burns through one-night stands and no-strings-attached relationships.

On a last-minute notice, Clint Barton’s crew is called to restore an old Victorian mansion for Steve Rogers, a wealthy architect building the dream house he’d promised his late wife before her death three years ago.

Featuring: millionaire silver fox Steve who just wants to dote on his sugar baby, jaded and sarcastic Bucky who falls in love with his sugar daddy against his better judgement, an amazing NSFW art by @miratho on chapter 3, plenty of smut. (Seriously, this is the smuttiest fic that I've ever written. There is smut in every chapter of this story. Kinky smut. Be warned).

Sneak peek and link to Chapter 1: You Got Condoms? below the cut:

The man’s got nice hands, Bucky thinks as Steve takes an expensive SI tablet – the latest model, the lucky bastard – and shows them sketches of each room, swiping from photos of how they are now, to drawings of how he envisions them. As he zooms in and out of the pictures, details appear, arrows pointing to original fixtures he wants to preserve, colored squares highlighting what he wants to do away with and, on the right side of the screen, there is a list of the materials he wants to use as replacement.

He’s got big hands, with nice long fingers, and perfectly clean and square nails. There’s a feathering of blond hairs on his knuckles, and his gold wedding band shines under the sunlight that’s peeking through the dirty window panes.

Rich, talented, and handsome, can he be any more annoying?

Turns out he can.

#silver fox steve bang #silver fox steve #sfs22 #stucky #stucky fic #modern au #modern stucky #sugar daddy steve rogers #sugar baby bucky barnes #rich steve rogers #bisexual steve rogers #gay bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky barnes #duchess writes #age difference #stucky fic rec

[crazyunsexycool]

Fuck this job I need a sugar daddy!!!!!!

#personal #where is sugar daddy!steve rogers when I need him

[sokovianheadtilt]

Tug of War Masterlist

CEO!Steve Rogers x black!reader

Summary: Y/N caught the attention of her boss, who’s determined to win her over

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12-NEW!!

#sokovianheadtilt #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #sugar daddy steve rogers #steve rogers x shy!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #ceo!steve rogers x reader

[ask-the-almighty-google]

It’s Important™️

#mcu #cacw #captain america movies #steve rogers #tony stark #sugar daddy zemo

[mylevisdontfitanymore]

If the muse strikes you, I’d really love to read something about a super curvy chubby!Bucky? Big hips that stick door ways and a butt to match. Moobs that Steve is obsessed with shaking around. Maybe a sugar daddy Steve who likes to buy Bucky things that compliment his physique?

No pressure, just a little something gnawing at my brain.

Curvy Bucky

I didn't make this Bucky quite as big as your prompt because I went down a different rabbit hole but hopefully you still enjoy this-!

Unbeat'd stucky belly kink content under the cut. Warnings for sugar daddy au, semi-public, feminization, stuffing, weight gain, slight humiliation, slight slight mentions of upset surrounding weight gain (Bucky's worried that Steve will make him lose weight when he "realizes" for like a sentence):

It starts with Bucky's hips flowing out over the waistband of his jeans; love handles and hips and a little spare tire that doesn't fit in his denim because his sugar daddy keeps taking him out to fancy restaurants. Restaurants where he can't resist the unbelievable flavors, eating until he's full except... eating until he's more than full too, since he can't resist his daddy's puppy dog eyes when he tells him he wants to order more for him and he wants him to eat it, please? Not that it's not that hard to always finish it when he asks... Bucky hates feeling wasteful. He hates leaving parts of his plate unfinished or untouched when he gets that full that he can't stomach any more food. He hates it even though he knows his daddy has more than enough disposable income; clearly he does, he's wasting money on paying for a companion that would be around him 24/7 anyway. No questions asked. So he should get over feeling wastful sooner rather than later but he just can't. Not with food at least.

So, yeah, at first when Bucky realizes he's gained weight, it's because he gets stuck in his jeans. Unable to peel them down his plump thighs after fighting tooth and nail to get any excess room to manipulate the fabric enough to unbutton them. Hips squeezed by the too tight fabric because that's where the weight of indulgence is going primarily so far. His hips and thighs and butt. Pear shaped.

However, the problem grows (as Bucky grows 🥴) when he moves onto his sweats and rips the seat of them as he bends over to sit down. His fat ass overcoming his biggest clothes. Literally ripping them to shreds. Spilling out. Fat and jiggling. He's lucky it happens when he's not at daddy's. Face instantly red. Frozen in place. So embarrassed. Oops. 😳😳😳

After that, Bucky buys himself some new jeans and sweats quietly. A little spooked that if Steve notices the weight gain, his daddy might comment. Right? Daddy might mention that he needs to stay in shape in the same way Steve has to, high society being so vain. But... Steve's never cared about how Bucky appears to anyone else. He doesn't care if his manners don't match prissy, high society. And Bucky doesn't know for sure how his daddy feels about it generally. The weight gain. And he doesn't know whether he's noticed it or not... so, Bucky doesn't mention it.

Daddy hasn't stopped buying him lavish meals constantly though. Always taking him out to eat - and making sure he eats as much as he physically can while they're out - or sending him treats to his door step or to his work- making sure he's well fed, more like, too well fed. So, yeah, Bucky doesn't know if Steve doesn't care or hasn't noticed.

Although, it's hard to imagine that he wouldn't notice. His hands are always all over Bucky. Squeezing, or rather, groping him. Grabbing. Pinching. Biting. Kissing. They're like horny teenagers all over again. Unable to not be handsy around one another. Obsessed with each other.

Once Bucky sizes up his bottoms and his growing problem doesn't stop because his sugar daddy is pushing of literal sugar (and literal salt and every other flavor/flavoring (including flavors Bucky had never tasted before living the high live)) into him doesn't stop either. His shirts go next. Getting too small.

It's not so much his tummy, even though his tummy is getting softer and softer, not really hanging out in a round dome- not unless he's just had a date with Steve and is stuffed to hell and back. He's just... Thick. His waist is thick and yet jiggly. Not swelling into a ball though, just stocky. His shirts start to get small because his pecs are puffing up. His pecs turning into little breasts.

His nipples jutt through his shirts all the time. Perky and hard and embarrassing. Like breasts. The fabric of his shirts pull across his chest. The buttons on his formal shirts pull and create gaps; the tighter ones gap over both his tummy and chest, and the more forgiving ones gap over just his chest. Either way, its embarrassing but also hot. Especially when a server's eyes flick down to the gaps, they make a face, and then look back up, lifting their nose up at him in a way that draws Steve's attention. Making Steve look at his ill-fitting shirts. His daddy.

And eventually, they get so small he has to buy himself a new selection of tops too, both because of his tummy and his breasts. His boobs- moobs. His tits whatever you want to call them. Mostly his growing tits make for his need for new shirts though. His growing chest is the reason for new shirts day-to-day, living his life, and his belly the reasons for new shirts nightly. Whenever he goes out with Steve he goes to bed stuffed, bloated, and so full he's sure he'll never need to eat again and then its his belly that's the problem. But the rest of the time, his shirts are too tight around his chest, rubbing his nipples raw or gapping or making it hard to breath. It's a constant reminder of the weight he's put on 🥵🥵

...

Steve tells him, both in the proverbial bedroom and outside of it, that he enjoys taking care of Bucky.

"Daddy loves seeing his boy well taken care of-" then, after a lengthy pause "-and daddy loves seeing his boy well well fed too."

That's the first time Bucky gets a hint that Steve might be into this. This- his body. His... uh... growing body 😳

The second hint, not just a hint and more an obvious shove, is when Steve has him in his lap, they're still kissing like they both didn't just get off, Bucky jiggling and bouncing in Steve's lap, riding him and letting Steve's big hands grab and squeeze him all over- all his soft places. His thighs. Hips. Bloated belly. Tits. Puffy upper arms. And Steve tells him between kisses - because they're both still half-clothed, so frantic to get their hands on each other after brunch - "let daddy buy your next wardrobe, baby, don't do it all by yourself, c'mon, let daddy help, daddy wants to help-"

That hint let's Bucky know that Steve knows he's been buying, in clothing size, bigger and bigger wardrobes for himself. Steadily outgrowing everything he owns. Steadily getting curvier and curvier. Softer and softer.

Bucky agrees, moaning, "a-anything, daddy, anything you want," because he wants to keep kissing him, not talking, and... well, less work for him, right? It's totally not that Bucky wants Steve to pinch at his fat sides and fat thighs and fat ass while looking at him in the plain light of day, telling him he's been eating too much and has gotten fat. Right?

And with his next larger wardrobe, Steve lets him pick out a majority of the clothes but he also gets his sizes and buys him things that he doesn't get to pick. Buying Bucky what daddy wants to see him in. He tells Bucky to trust that he knows what he likes. Bucky blushes and agrees, allowing him to do so (not that that makes any sense because it's Steve's money, he can do whatever he wants with it and Bucky could just choose not to wear it if he doesn't like it).

Steve buys him more than just regular clothes, formal or causal, though 👀

Steve buys him underwear.

Women's underwear.

Steve buys him panties and bras, stockings and garters, teddies and baby dolls. He buys him things in lace and silk and mesh. Steve buys him pretty things that are his size and-

Steve buys him pretty outfits that are too big that come in sleek boxes with delicate tissue paper concealing the naughty lingerie inside. There are cards inside all of the expensive lingerie boxes, but the ones with too big pretty things say, in gorgeous, handwritten cursive: "for daddy's boy to grow into"

Bucky blushes horribly, knowing someone had to write that with expensive, pretty ink and had to know what it meant. Someone else knows about what Steve is doing to him- feeding and feeding and feeding and clothing and loving him like a little (not for long) pet.

Oh, God.

...

Bucky wears his first set of lingerie to dinner under a brand new suit. His suit jacket and pants are light blue to match his eyes, specially made. Theres no tie. His shirt is plain white, not yet tight around his tits or belly (it will be tight around his belly by the end of the night though). Under his suit- the high waisted panties and bra are pink. Baby pink. He can feel the lace rub against him every time he shifts in his seat in the candle lit corner of the restaurant. His nipples. His dick. Rubbing, rubbing, and rubbing as he eats.

The lacy, pretty, pink bra makes his chest really look like tits through his nice dress shirt. It's unfairly hot to think about everyone looking at them. Looking at him. A chubby, fat, curvy young man sitting next to such a powerful, handsome, chiseled CEO. Chatting and stuffing his face while the powerful CEO rests one hand on his sharp, bearded jaw. He's been done with his salad for ages. The rest of the food has gone down the chubby kid's throat. Puffing up his tits and belly where he sits, panting like eating is hard work...

By the time they are finally ready to go home, the elastic waist of his panties is digging into Bucky's belly, leaving red marks that daddy will kiss and mouth at and rub with lotion (then after they're gone, massaged away, daddy will paint his skin where they were with his release).

And the second time Bucky wears lingerie, he's wearing nothing else at all. Steve has had food specially prepared and brought to his home. He feeds it to Bucky by hand. Murmuring all the while that daddy can't wait until you rip your lingerie with your round, bulging ass and thick thighs, until your tits are too fat and big to fit into the nice lace daddy bought you. Beyond that, he murmurs about feeding you up, keeping you as daddy's pampered pet. Feeding and feeding and spoiling you until when you walk through our doors your hips brush either side of the frame and all of you wobbles deliciously. Daddy can't wait for you to get even bigger. Larger. More. Heavier. Daddy wants you so big we have to custom make you lingerie. So curvy and pretty.

Daddy wants more of his baby to worship and play with and touch. He wants more soft, pale fat that's sensationally orgasmic to touch, wrapped in luxurious, exorbitant fabrics just for Steve. Just for Daddy. Daddy's pet.

Yeah... 🥵🥵🥵

#belly kink #text #stuffing #weight gain #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #chubby bucky #sugar daddy steve #sugar baby bucky #mylevisdontfitanymore

[lavenderpanic]

A Dwindling, Mercurial High was originally gonna be super dark and angsty but I just wanna skip forward to the sugar daddy Steve parts :(( I just want to spoil Bucky

#I don't know why I'm acting like I'm being forced into it #I can just write sugar daddy steve if i want #this is a free country #steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #stevebucky

[f10werfae]

send in some ideas for any au for some short drabbles!! Feeling creative this week 🫶

#lumberjack!henry cavill #sugar daddy!pedro #alpha!ari levinson x omega!reader #dad!ransom drysdale #steve rogers x bimbo!reader #ari levinson x bimbo!reader

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Sugar and Spice*

Chapter Sixteen

Master List |  Steve Rogers Master List  | Series Master List

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Lawyer!Steve Rogers x OFC Rowan Maddox

Warnings: language, smut

A/N: This chapter brought to you by @fairlightswiftly through coffee updates! Thank you, peach!

I do not tag. For notifications on the story, please follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library​​ or subscribe to it on AO3. An account is required to access my work on AO3. For more information on how to get your FREE AO3 account, see this post.

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#sugar and spice #steve rogers #steve rogers x ofc #sugar daddy au #no daddy kink #no powers #avengers au

[evansbby]

another sugar daddy Ari 🫣🥵✨✨

18+ minors dni, daddy kink, age gap, smut

Ari wasn’t a conventional sugar daddy by any means. Well, what was a conventional sugar daddy, anyways? You wouldn’t know, because this was the first time you’d ever been in an arrangement like this. You didn’t know what you expected when you signed the contract. But it’s not like you were complaining…

You weren’t complaining when he made you sit on his lap while he kissed you everywhere. Slowly, sensually, petting you like you were his little toy, while he asked you questions about your life.

“Are you enjoying college?” While he sucked on your neck.

“Tell me about your parents, how are they doing?” While he peppered kisses along your jaw.

“What extra-curriculars are you taking this semester?” As he kissed your cheek and cooed at you.

You’d tell him, being as animated as possible because he seemed to like how chatty you were. And he’d play with your hair and caress you everywhere and put his hands up your skirt or play with your bra strap. It was like you were a delectable meal that he was playing with, and he enjoyed teasing himself almost as much as he enjoyed teasing you.

“Baby, you didn’t spend any of your allowance this week.” Ari inquires one day, frowning as he enters your apartment. Well, the luxury penthouse apartment he was paying for, but he liked to call it yours and you liked having a place of your own so you never corrected him. Not that he’d appreciate you correcting him on anything anyways. Men and their egos…

You shrug, sitting up on the couch where you’d been waiting for him. He’d texted you earlier informing you that he’d cleared his schedule to meet you for lunch. And of course, you assumed lunch was code for sex, which was why you were clad in only a pretty pink lingerie set with silky ribbons and bows, along with a pair of pink high heels which Ari already couldn’t take his eyes off of.

“Sorry, daddy, I just didn’t feel like shopping.”

You cross and uncross your legs, looking up at him and biting your lip. How can you tell your sugar daddy that there’s only so many new dress, shoes or purses you can purchase in a week?

Ari huffs, “I’m gonna have to start punishing you if you don’t spend your weekly allowance, sweetheart.”

But he’s already unbuckling his belt, which makes lick your lips excitably. You’d only been in this arrangement with him for a month and a half, but he’d already got you addicted to his dick. And his mouth. His tongue. His hands…

Ari was so different from the college boys you were used to. Not only was he older, mature, experienced in how to please women, but he was also just… so rugged. And tough. Rough around the edges, so to speak. With his mane of long hair, his bristly beard and wild eyes, he was incredibly virile, handsome, and quite frankly, every girl’s wet dream.

In his 40s, he was now the big CEO hotshot of some huge company. But he’d worked for the government when he was younger, going out on international missions and doing all that dangerous, top secret stuff. But that was all he ever told you about that, and yet you could see it on his face, everything he’d been through and the things he’d seen.

He was hot-headed, impulsive and he took what he wanted when he wanted it. You weren’t complaining, because it made for some fantastic, mind-blowing sex.

Like when he’d taken you out to dinner but midway through the meal he’d decided he’d rather devour you instead, and so he’d pulled you into his lap right there and fucked you gently while he fed you pieces of steak. Luckily, the two of you were in a corner booth. Unluckily, most of the wait-staff had seen, but Ari left them a hefty tip to make sure they never mentioned it again.

Or the time he’d come to pick you up from campus, only to see you talking to one of the boys from your history class. That was the day you’d found out how jealous Ari Levinson was capable of being. He’d slung you over his lap and spanked your ass raw for the better part of the journey home. His limo driver had drawn the partition, and you’d cried until your daddy pulled you upright, kissed your face and told you it way okay.

Or, the time you’d forgot to call him daddy during sex once, which was very much against the rules. Ari wanted you to call him daddy and nothing else when inside the bedroom. Which was why he’d tied you up and aggressively licked your cunt till your legs were shaking and you were on the brink of passing out, and the only word you were able to utter was “daddy.”

Back in the present, Ari allows his pants to drop to the floor along with his boxers, and he gives you a meaningful look.

“Daddy’s had a long day and wants you to suck his dick, sweetheart.”

You sink down to your knees, trying to be sexy about it and you know he appreciates that. You love how he can’t take his eyes off your body, how the lingerie hugs your curves and pushes your breasts up. How tantalising your cleavage looks, especially with you on your knees in front of him. You know Ari loves your body, and loves buying you pretty, revealing things so he can show you off to all his friends and colleagues.

You grab hold of his big dick, throat already hurting at the thought of having that inside your mouth. You loved his dick because it was pretty and brought you so much pleasure, but it was also so insanely big, and Ari loved to make you choke on it. Which happened every time you gave him a blowjob because you still weren’t used to his size, and he preferred you taking all of it in till you couldn’t breathe. You knew he loved it when you couldn’t breathe, when his enormous dick was suffocating you…

“And then after you do that, you’re going to sit on my lap and scroll through my phone till you’ve found some nice things to spend your allowance on. Got that, gorgeous?”

You nod submissively, and Ari smirks. He’s still got his belt in his hand and he loops it around your neck, tightening it till it’s incredibly snug. And just being there, by his feet with a makeshift leash around your neck gets you wetter than it should.

“Such a good little girl,” Ari grunts, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you take his cock into your mouth. Giving Ari a blowjob is always a messy affair, and soon enough, he’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at top speed, muttering profanities while he orders you to keep your eyes on his.

He rubs his dick all over your face, smearing your cheeks and nose with his precum and your own spit. He slaps you across the face with his cock, chuckling breathlessly when you pout because he knows how wet it gets you. And he grabs your hair, pushing you down till your deep-throating him, your nose pressed against his pelvis till you can’t breathe and you begin to flail your limbs.

But his belt around your neck keeps you in place, as does his constant praises “What a good little girl,” “daddy loves how well you take my dick,” “you’re so good for me, baby. So sexy and cute when you’ve got my dick down your throat.”

He cums on your face and doesn’t let you clean it off. He tells you that you look beautiful like this, and then, true to his word, sits you down on his lap and hands you his phone. You scroll through one expensive brand website after another, all while he plays with your lingerie, petting and kissing you how he loves to, and telling you how sexy you are with his cum on your face.

“Sweetheart, if it was up to me, I’d have you in nothing except covered in diamonds, and my cum on your face.”

He immediately orders you an expensive pair of diamond earrings from Cartier (as if you haven’t already got two whole jewellery boxes full of diamonds and pearls and sapphire and what not — all from Ari of course). And then he insists that the earrings were his gift to you, and that you still need to spend your allowance.

After a lot of pouting and grumbling, and some reprimanding smacks to your bottom later, you’ve let him buy you two Chanel handbags, a dress from Versace’s newest Resort collection (not even in stores yet, but Ari had his connections), as well as five new pairs of shoes (all high heels, of course).

“Now was that so hard, baby?”

“I guess not. But I’m gonna run out of space soon, with all the things you keep buying me.”

Ari scoffs, “I have another apartment in the upper east side. You can use it as your shoe closet.”

“You’re really into the heels, aren’t you, daddy?” You tease, twirling your bare legs in the air, your heels catching the light and you feel Ari getting hard again. He grabs your ankle suddenly, pressing kisses up your calf while you gasp and squirm in his lap. His bonded digs at your ass and his hands fondle you everywhere, tugging at your lingerie before he abruptly stops himself.

“Baby, go wait for me inside the bedroom. Everything off except the shoes. And lie on the bed for me with your legs spread out.”

You raise an eyebrow, “That’s awfully specific, daddy—OW!”

He smacks your ass four times in quick succession.

“Go. Now. I’ve got the rest of the day off and daddy plans to fuck your little pussy till I’ve had my fill. Which won’t be any time soon, so take a couple of bottles of water with you too.”

***

JSJDSJSKSKSK THE END IDK I AM IN SYCH A SUGAR DADDY ARI MOOD BYE.

#sugar daddy Ari #Ari levinson #ari levison x reader #Steve rogers #Chris evans #chris evans fanfiction

[fandomfluffandfuck]

PLEASEEEE

Imagine older sugar daddy Bucky in a suit in the elevator to his Penthouse, tapping his foot, flickering his eyes on his watch what feels like thousands of times. His baby Steve was sprawled on the bed with a makeshift cock stretching his glitsening pink rim, almost too big for his insides. Oh how Bucky was imagining such wild thoughts just because Steve sent a messy picture of himself while he was at the office. Imagining Steve tampering with himself with his tip leaking like a broken faucet, all messy and drooling just because he was impatient that his daddy wasn't home yet. His thoughts were interrupted by the elevator dinging. He stepped out and walked his door, inserting the key and turning it, making a loud clicking sound. The door didn't creak what so ever it was so silent but Steve was not. Be can hear Steve's moans and whimper from the living room of his penthouse. The sound of his footsteps were drowned by the sweet sounds of Steve too drowning in pleasure. The door was slightly open, Bucky peaked in a little, sighing as he saw his baby all sweaty bouncing on the same dildo that Bucky bought for him just a while ago. His baby was almost screaming and crying for him “Ah, Oh, Oh God, Bucky Bucky Please”. Bucky could see Steve rolling his eyes, eyes all teary and almost fully white. He opened the door further exposing his tall figure standing in front of the door. Steve froze as shame filled his body from head to toe. “Ruining the sheets again, Rogers?” Bucky spoke as his eyes laid on his pretty baby who was bouncing on the makeshift cock but now frozen in place with a dildo wedged deep inside him. Steve couldn't help but grind as the dildo was already grazing his prostate. Steve was shaking his head while looking up at Bucky with shameful eyes.

Also get the name "pleading anon" please 😉😉

The name is all yours, baby.

I will sure fucking IMAGINE that.

Fucking thank you for providing me with that mental image. With that 🤌🏻meal🤌🏻

And you know what I would love to imagine some more than the Gift of what you wrote is that photo. What's the messy photo baby sends his Daddy...?

Personally, I can't help but picture a shot of Steve from behind--he's balanced his phone on a pile of pillows against the headboard with a timer, so he can have both hands free for other activities--while he's on all fours. But not even. He was on his all fours. Now he's got his chest pressed to the bed while he's still on his knees. He's pressing his ass back and out toward the camera so hard that he can feel the stretch in his hips. He wants more, though. Always more. Hence why he's taking this photo for his Daddy. He wants more trouble than he usually makes for himself 😈

For the photo, he's gotten nice and sweaty, having played with himself for a good while. So, he's flushed pink from head to toe, and he's trembling a little, having a hard time holding his position. Right now, his chest and face are pressed hotly to the bed while his hands do all the work...

One of his hands just slowly eased the fat toy he had shoved inside himself out and it's now next to his calf on the bed, soaked with lube and still just as hot as his quivering insides are. Now, that hand is busy holding his thick, waxed ass wide open. Putting himself on display because, fuck, the toy has left behind a gaping hole.

A pink, wet hole that would look so much better painted with cum.

Daddy's cum.

The fingers of Steve's other hand are rubbing right up against his twitching hole, emphasizing just how loose and wet and hungry and ready it is. If only Daddy would hurry up and get home...

So, yes. I love this. Thank you 😮‍💨

#pleading anon #asks #bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #fic #sugar baby steve #sugar daddy bucky #anon provided writing