#sugar daddy!bucky

[bucksangel]

more than a mid day amusement

pairing: sugar daddy/silver fox!bucky x reader

word count: 5k

summary: being in a relationship with an older man comes with challenges, all that come to a head one night when an old friend digs up some insecurities and threatens to break everything you have with the man you love.

warnings: 18+ ONLY, sugardaddy!au, age gap, angst, fluff, jealousy, love-making, fingering, unprotected p in v, bucky is a silver fox, pet names (princess), daddy kink, love confessions, happy ending

a/n: i read this fic by @witchywithwhiskey and decided I wanted to write a sugar daddy!bucky fic, so here y’all go! Thank you molly for unintentionally giving me inspiration🤍

masterlist | tip jar | ao3

Upon walking through the doors, you have to fight to not let your mouth drop open. The ballroom is, to put it simply, utterly gorgeous. Several chandeliers hang from the tall ceiling, the tile floors are pearly and pristine, and the artwork adorning the walls is almost too beautiful to look at. There was a large Angel fountain in front of the property, and there’s a matching one inside in the middle of the room. Dozens of butlers walk by every minute, all holding a tray of champagne or an array of Hors D’oeuvres, and maids linger on the outskirts ready to clean up any messes. There are easily over two hundred people here to raise money for some children’s charity that you can’t remember the name of, and all are ready to spend more money on a single sculpture than you spend on rent for an entire year.

The people that you engage with upon first entering are dull, so much so that you grab a flute of champagne from a passing waiter and sip on it while staring at the art, letting Bucky do all the talking. He does his best to involve you in the conversations whenever he can, but he understands you’re not here to talk business, so he doesn’t let the talks dip any further than surface level – always mindful of your time. While you never mind, after all you know why you’re here, you are thankful because you’re pretty sure your brain can’t hold any more information on Stark’s stock prices.

These parties – galas, charities, call it whatever you want – are always boring, too many rich people with fake laughs and ulterior motives and side eyes. Your first was about six months ago, and you were pretty sure your anxiety had never been so bad, obsessing over the dress Bucky chose for you and if it would be appropriate, if people would think you looked nice, if your hair was in place because you would be damned if you made Bucky look bad by looking bad yourself. And, maybe you wanted to look good for him too.

Your relationship isn’t conventional, it never has been. You met through one of those stereotypical romantic comedies “we walked into each other and spilled our coffees on each other” meet-cute situations outside of the coffee shop. Except, you weren’t all that cute about it. It was your favorite shirt, and you were going to be at work on time except now you had to go to the store to get a new one because your apartment was too far away to simply go back. You’ll admit that you were a little rude to him, especially since even then you knew it was an honest mistake, but one flash of Bucky’s pearly white teeth and the low tenor of his voice asking if he can buy you a new one – a shirt and coffee – had you crumbling.

He understood your reservations about you letting him drive you to a nearby store, you were strangers after all, but he had absolutely no trouble pulling out his wallet and flipping it open, and you will also admit that the sound you made when he did so was not dignified. The stack of one-hundred-dollar bills was obscene and the sleek black card on the side was taunting you, prompting you to wonder what in the hell this man did for work. He was older, maybe later forties or early fifties, dressed in a sharp black on black suit with matching loafers, his hair was perfectly slicked back, and you still don’t know much about cologne, but you were pretty sure that his easily cost hundreds of dollars.

He handed you three hundred dollars for the new shirt, waving off your balking expression by saying that he feels really bad because he can see how upset you are so “please treat yourself.” You were a little apprehensive about taking it, but Bucky was so sincere and kind and, truthfully, you needed the money. So, you took it.

And his invitation for a date.

You’re still not sure how he got you to agree to it, even now Bucky says he’s not sure either, but you chalk it up to the fact that he’s a dangerous sweet talker. The fact that he’s a walking God among men just sweetened the deal. The silver in his beard and the grays at his temples made him look refined, dignified, like he was confident and knew what he wanted, and would do anything to get it.

Apparently, you were what he wanted.

The date was nothing short of lovely, a beautiful dinner at some fancy high-rise restaurant in Manhattan overlooking the city as the sun was setting. It wasn’t packed, so there was only the quiet murmur of conversation mingled in with the Orchestral strings from the band in the corner while you ate better than you have in your entire life. Surprisingly, you both had a lot in common, you have similar music tastes, book recommendations, food palettes, almost everything really. The connection came as a shock considering you’re easily twenty years younger than him, and that’s when you really understood that age was just a number.

Given your age gap and his obvious wealth, you had a feeling you knew where this date was headed, but Bucky hadn’t made you feel awkward or made any inappropriate advances or comments, so you pushed it aside and sat through the date with a wide smile and a full belly. By three glasses of wine in, you were giggly, and Bucky was a little flushed from the bourbon he’d been nursing, and when the waiter took your plates and went to get the dessert, he broke the news.

Bucky, as you can see, is older, he’s not married, has no kids, living in a too-big house. Being one of the top CEOs in the country, all the women he meets are after his money, always with an ulterior motive, and to an extent he understands why. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though. But, Bucky doesn’t have a lot of time to go out and find the perfect woman right now, so all he wants is some companionship, someone to take on trips and dates when he gets bored, someone to spoil and dote on because he’s a provider by nature. He’d want you to accompany him to the events he has to attend as part of work, and in return he’d give you an allowance on top of paying for your apartment.

He laid everything out, asking you questions and answering anything that you had, talking in depth and easing any worries you had over an older man asking you to be his sugar baby. You’ve never done this before, so it felt a little weird to be talking about it, but by the time you’d finished dessert, you were free of any hesitation.

You went home that night with Bucky’s number in your phone, five hundred dollars in your wallet, and a pending payment to your apartment complex for that month’s rent.

Tonight is similar to other charity events, boring small talk with even more boring people that’s only made better by Bucky’s arm around your waist. Also the new necklace he’d given you when he picked you up earlier that evening.

The necklace – a simple pearl on a gold chain, matches your light peach dress. The dress cups your breasts and hugs your waist, then flows around your hips to form a small train behind you as you walk. It’s smooth silk, and Bucky laughed when you asked to marry him because he made sure to tell the designer to add pockets. It’s beautiful, something Bucky has taken note of multiple times tonight.

“You’re stunning, you know that?” Bucky asks softly, his lips pressed to your ear and his hand warm on your lower back. You’re standing off to the side with drinks in your hands, facing each other in your own little bubble as you talk and joke about the people walking by. “The most beautiful princess ever.”

Giggling, you can feel your cheeks heating up at the same time as your eyes roll a little.

“You’ve said that like five times tonight,” You tease, reaching up with your free hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Bucky’s ear.

“Well, how rude of me,” He says with a mischievous smile. “It should be triple by now.”

“You know you don’t need to sweet talk me, I’m already going home with you.” Again, you giggle, shaking your head teasingly.

“It’s not about that,” Bucky says seriously, his voice turning stern. “I don’t care if you sleep with me tonight or not, you’re beautiful, and you should know that.”

Butterflies fill your tummy, and your face grows warmer. Your heart bursts with affection at the same time feeling like it’s been stabbed. Lately, Bucky’s been getting a little more affectionate with his words and actions, which is saying something considering he already doted on you quite a bit. Part of you wonder if your feelings for him are reciprocated, if you’re not falling in love alone.

Because, as much as you tried not to, you fell for your sugar daddy.

It’s probably a bad idea to let yourself sink into the delusion that you’re actually a couple, that you’re both in love without the monetary incentive. In fact, you know it’s dangerous.

That’s not going to stop you tonight.

Leaning up, you place a soft and lingering kiss on Bucky’s lips, both of you sighing into the kiss. “Thank you, daddy,” You whisper when you pull away, looking into his eyes and seeing a twinkle in them. You’re not sure what it means, and you want so desperately to ask why he’s looking at you like you’re his whole world, but the words die on your tongue. You don’t want to ruin the moment by revealing your feelings.

After a pause, Bucky smirks. “You’re welcome, princess.” He leans down this time and kisses you again, this time it’s a little more passionate. His tongue invades your mouth, his hand drifting to your waist and gripping it tight, pulling you flush against your body. The kiss feels different somehow, the sparks are flying higher than usual, and something deep in your bones knows that things are going to change tonight.

You pull away only when your lungs are screaming for air, even though you’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening kissing him, touching him, worshipping him and letting him worship you. Intimacy is never boring with you two, it’s always intense, whether he’s plowing into you from behind and calling you degrading names or you’re in missionary, whining and whimpering because Bucky won’t speed up his hips. He could, and has, spent hours eating you out, making you cum over and over until you black out, only for him to fuck you awake. You’ve sucked his dick under the tables of various restaurants. You’ve let him convince you to wear dresses without panties on your dates. Whatever it is you do, you know you’ll have fun.

Hours pass by with Bucky guiding you around the ballroom, making small talk with people you don’t know the names of, playing the part of his doting date expertly. It’s when he leaves your side to go to the bar that things heat up.

“Oh my god,” A deep voice says behind you, and for a split second you have a sense of nostalgia, like you’ve heard that voice before. A hand touches your arm, prompting you turn around and come face to face with the man that approached you.

And wouldn’t you know it, it’s Aaron, your best friend from childhood. Happiness immediately floods your body. You haven’t seen or heard from him in so long, not that there was a bad falling out, you two just grew apart. But it’s still good to see him, he was a part of so many happy memories when you were a kid.

“Oh my god!” You repeat, your eyes widen. Both of you outstretch your arms at the same time, going in for a hug with smiles on your faces. “Aaron, it’s so good to see you! We haven’t talked in so long.”

“I know,” He says remorsefully, sporting a sheepish grin that you match. “I’m sorry about that. You were my best friend.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault, okay? It was both of us.” Your reassurance seems to put him at ease, and you fall into an easy conversation, catching up on your lives and reminiscing on your younger years and the trouble you both got into.

“Remember when Anthony tripped you for saying no to his marriage proposal?” Aaron asks with a chuckle, and you let out a laugh at the memory.

“Well, we were seven and at that time all boys had cooties, so I’m not sure why he thought I’d say yes.”

“Princess.” Bucky says from behind you, and you turn around to see him holding a glass of bourbon with slightly furrowed brows.

“Oh, Bucky!” You exclaim, reaching out for him and tugging him closer. “This is Aaron, we used to be the best of friends when we were kids.”

“I know Aaron,” Bucky says cooly, wrapping his arm around your waist possessively. When you look back at your friend, you completely miss the anger in Bucky’s eyes. “We went to the same college. I was a TA for a few of his first year classes.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, and you look between Bucky and Aaron with a quizzical look.

“Really? Wow, the world is small.” You laugh softly, as does Aaron.

Bucky stays silent. In fact, he stays relatively quiet for the entire interaction, letting you and your friend reconnect for what feels like hours. Eventually, though, all the champagne you’ve drank has gotten to your system and the need to pee hits you straight in the gut. Extracting yourself from Bucky’s hold, you tell the men that you’re going to the bathroom, and kiss Bucky’s cheek before turning and walking towards the hallway that leads to it.

And while you’re in the bathroom, you’re ruminating a little on your conversation, and an unpleasant feeling settles in your stomach when you finally register all the compliments Aaron was throwing your way and how Bucky’s grip would tighten with each one. But you saw his wedding ring, so you’re sure he doesn’t have an ulterior motive. Maybe he just genuinely wants you to know you look nice.

However, when you get back to the ballroom and scan the crowd, you see Bucky’s back as he faces your friend. Aaron has a smug smirk on his face, his hands in his pockets, and his posture relaxed. He doesn’t seem phased by whatever Bucky is saying, making you curious as to what they’re talking about. When you get a few feet behind them, you start to hear it.

“…So leave her alone, okay? She’s taken.” Bucky’s voice is deep, using what you’ve deemed his Important CEO voice.

“I don’t know about that,” Aaron says, and the unpleasant feeling grows. “She didn’t seem to mind that I was flirting with her. Plus, what are you, like, seventy? You’re way too old for her, grandpa. She’s going to leave you eventually.”

Anger flares up in your body, your eyes filling with fire and your heart filling with rage at his degrading comments. Bucky is perfect. He’s kind, respectful, funny, the whole nine yards. So someone insulting him, especially about your age gap which you know he’s already a little self-conscious about.

“She’s my girl,” Bucky reiterates sharply, and you can see his hand tighten around the now empty glass he’s holding. Quite frankly, you’re surprised it hasn’t shattered. With the short pause in their conversation, you decide now is a time to butt in.

“Bucky,” You say, walking up to him further and placing your hand on his back. You want to yell at Aaron for being so rude, maybe even punch him, but you know causing a scene wouldn’t be a good look. You decide it’s safer to play dumb. “I’m not really feeling good.” Bucky’s eyebrows furrow with worry, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, he’s always taken your well-being seriously, and the affection settles you a little.

“Nothing, I just think I drank a little too much. Do you think we could leave?” You briefly glance over at Aaron, seeing that he’s now looking pissed off.

Good.

“Of course we can, princess,” Bucky says softly, leaning forward and kissing your forehead tenderly. “Come.”

You don’t bother saying goodbye to Aaron, you don’t even glance at him as you let Bucky tug you along to the car. You’re starting to get worried with each step you take because you can see that he’s tense while at the same time despondent. He’s never said anything about your age gap bothering him, but you can be observant. You’ve noticed that lately he’s been a little timid when telling anyone how old he is when you’re around, almost like it just drives home the point that you’re so far apart in age and causing others to judge and sneer at both of you. He gets a little shifty when someone comments on it or makes a passing joke, and you always try to reassure him without outright saying that you know.

When you get to the car, he opens your door for you, going about the usual routine of buckling you in and kissing your cheek before shutting the door and going around to his side. Things are quiet and tense the whole drive to Bucky’s penthouse, he’s not even holding your hand or resting his on your thigh like he usually would. It upsets you, and you want so badly to ask what he’s feeling, to tell him that it’s okay because you genuinely do care for him and that Aaron was out of line for saying the things he did.

Again, you can’t seem to find the words.

You still don’t speak when you get to his place. Getting out of the car, the walk into the building, and the elevator ride up to his floor all go about in silence. It’s not until you get into his kitchen that he says anything.

“Are you happy with our arrangement?” He asks as he hands you a glass of water, and the question physically hurts you.

“Of course I am,” You say, even though it’s a complete lie. In reality you want to actually be with him, but you’re still deciding on if you want to tell him. “Are you not?”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, and a pit forms in your stomach. Is he really not happy with you? He told Aaron you were his girl, but his silence to your question is deafening.

“So you wouldn’t prefer to actually be in a relationship?” He asks tentatively, putting his hands in his pockets and looking at the ground as though it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. “There are plenty of men out there that would love to have you as theirs.”

That stabs at your heart, and you have to force the tears from forming in your eyes. That ‘plenty of men’ comment crushes you, because it just proves to you that he doesn’t see himself actually being in a relationship with you.

“No,” You say after a moment, now looking down at your hands to hide your sad eyes in case he looks at you again.

Everything is quiet for a long while, anxiety bubbling up and threatening to spill. You’ve never felt this way about anyone else, never felt this type of all consuming love for another person, and you don’t want to lose it.

It seems like you might, tonight.

“Um,” Bucky says after a while, clearing his throat. “I can, uh, take you home if you’re still not feeling good.” This time tears do form in your eyes. You don’t want to leave, but it seems like he’s pushing you out as politely as he can.

You know what you need to do.

“If you want to end our arrangement, I understand.” Your voice is soft but thick with how hard you’re trying not to cry. “If you want to be with someone else, it’s okay.” It’s not, not really. But you know it’s not your right to demand that he stay with you if he doesn’t want to.

“I don’t want to be with anyone else,” He confesses hesitantly, and you can feel his gaze boring holes into you. You hear his shoes pad along the carpet until they appear in your line of sight. His hand rests on the back of your neck, guiding your head up to look at him through tears. “But I’m too old for you. You need someone younger, someone better suited for you than I am.”

“You’re perfect for me,” You blurt out despite your better judgment. “You’re not ‘too old’, and there’s no one better suited for me than you. We get along, don’t we? Don’t you at least like my company?”

“I love your company.” Both of you pause, and this time a spark of hope ignites in your heart. “I love you.”

His soft admission causes you to gasp, and your anxiety completely fades away.  Now that you know his feelings, you’re not going to let him push you away.

“But- “

“But nothing,” You say, standing up on wobbly legs due to your heels. Bucky immediately reaches for your waist to steady you, and they don’t drop when you’re upright. “Even if it’s difficult, if we love each other, it’ll be worth it.”

“You love me?” Bucky sounds shocked, his eyes widening almost comically, though hopefully.

“I do,” You whisper, tucking a stray strand of hair behind his ear and then cupping his cheek in your palms. “I love you, Bucky. You. Not anyone else. I don’t care how old you are because we connect. We understand each other like I know no one else can.”

Bucky sighs, relieved, and leans forward to rest his forehead on yours. Slowly, he leans down further until his lips are hovering right over yours, but not taking the plunge. Only when you whine does he actually kiss you. It’s not all tongues and teeth and clashing and intensity, it’s warm and passionate and loving, it’s perfect. You kiss for what feels like forever, your lips gliding against each other as you soak each other in. After a while, Bucky pulls away, though only enough to once again hover over his mouth over yours.

“You really love me, princess?” The tenor in his voice shifts the mood, the way he pulls you flush against his body so you can feel the hard outline of his bulge.

“I really love you, daddy.” You smile, as does Bucky, before he suddenly leans down and grabs the back of your thighs so he can lift you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist.

He stares into your eyes the entire walk to his bedroom, and you almost want to cry with how happy you are. The brief angst of almost losing what you have is gone, replaced now with love and lust. He gently sets you down on the floor, wasting no time yet at the same time taking great care of undressing you, sliding your dress off as he presses kisses wherever he can reach. You’re whimpering, your need bubbling up and threatening to make you cry with frustration. You always get a little dumb with Bucky in the bedroom, easily going under until all you can think of and focus on is Bucky.

You look at Bucky while he lowers himself to his knees, putting your hands on his shoulders to steady you as he takes off your heels. He places kisses on your thighs, spreading your legs a little so he can brush his nose along your pubic bone and inhale your scent.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” He groans, his tongue darting out and forcing its way through your folds to tease your clit. And you’re extremely thankful you went without panties tonight.

“Daddy,” You whine, shifting forward into Bucky’s mouth, but he retreats as soon as you do. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, princess,” He murmurs, standing back on his feet. And, even though you want to tear his clothes off, you also don’t want to ruin the serenity of the moment. So you’re slow when taking Bucky’s clothes off, also kissing him and relishing in his pleased sighs and quiet moans.

“Da-“

Bucky cuts you off with a kiss, once again taking you into his arms so he can lay you gently on the bed. He climbs on top of you, continuing to kiss you until you’re breathless and only vaguely aware of Bucky’s hand creeping up your inner thigh until you’re gasping into his mouth due to his thumb settling right against your clit.

“Say it again,” He demands, and you know what he wants to hear.

“I love you.” At that, he rubs his thumb in slow circles, dipping one finger into your aching hole in one fluid motion. You moan loudly, arching your back slightly and pressing your breasts against Bucky’s chest.

He doesn’t speed up his movements, is methodical in how he takes you apart just with his hands. While he fits a second finger in your pussy he starts massaging your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple as he kisses and sucks and nibbles at your jaw and neck, no doubt leaving marks of ownership that you’ll wear proudly.

He continues his gentle movements, only speeding up slightly when he notices your pleasure is growing.

“Fuck, princess, need you to cum so I can be inside you.” His begging only gets you more worked up and you’re so close you can taste your release. “Please, cum.”

And you do, letting go with a wail that Bucky swallows with his mouth. He fingers you through your orgasm, only stopping when you start whining at the sensitivity.

“Daddy,” You say, though you’re not sure exactly what you want to say.

“What do you need, princess?”

“You.” Your response is immediate, and you see Bucky’s features soften. “Always you. Only you.”

Bucky groans and hurriedly situates himself between your spread legs. He reaches between his legs and grasps his cock, hissing at the pleasure before he guides himself to your entrance. With a loving look into your eyes, he smiles and says, “I love you.”

And that’s all the preamble needed for Bucky to push in, slowly stretching you and splitting you open until you’re fully speared on his cock. You can’t do much more than grasp his shoulders, pulling him flush against you so all you can feel, smell, and see is Bucky, your love. He stays still for a moment, letting both of you adjust, simply staring into each other’s eyes as though you can’t get enough of it.

“Please move, daddy.”

He does, pulling his hips back and then thrusting forward, forcing a moan from your mouth. He does it again and again until he’s worked up a steady rhythm, making love to you and worshipping you with his mouth, his hands, and his words. He’s praising you endlessly, telling you how beautiful you are, how much he loves you, how lucky he is that you want to be his.

You don’t realize you’re crying until Bucky’s lips ghost over your cheek and catch a tear, shushing and cooing at you.

“Princess, fuck princess, I love you so much. You feel so fucking good around me, you’re fucking perfect, you know that? The only one for me for this life and any others I live.” Bucky doesn’t stop there, he keeps telling you sweet things and thrusting his hips and nailing your special spot with each one.

“I’m gonna cum, daddy!”

“Hold it,” He says, fucking you a little faster. “Cum with me.”

You whine, and you desperately want to cum, but if Bucky doesn’t want you to then you won’t. So, you hold off as best as you can, resigning yourself to simply feeling, sinking into the pleasure and your head going fuzzier and fuzzier until you’re vaguely aware of Bucky’s desperate and husky voice ordering you to cum.

Through tears, you cry out as your orgasm washes over you, gripping Bucky like a lifeline as he spills inside of you. It lasts eons, flames igniting your skin as both of you share such a special moment. When you finally come down from your high, Bucky is clearly trying not to collapse on top of you, causing you to giggle.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, teasing.

“Nothing,” You assure, now rubbing up and down his back. “I’m just happy.”

Bucky sighs, smiling softly before leaning down to kiss you chastely. Carefully, he rolls you both over so you’re now lying on top of him with his cock still lodged deep in your pussy, keeping his release in place.

“I’m happy too,” Bucky confesses, smiling wider when you do. You both go quiet for a long while, you’re resting your head on his chest and he’s rubbing your back and sides, reveling in the love you share. When you yawn, Bucky chuckles, kissing the top of your head.

“Go to bed, princess. I’ll make us breakfast in the morning.”

“M’kay,” You mumble, nuzzling his chest and kissing over his heart. “I love you.”

“I love you too, princess,” Bucky murmurs, kissing you again. “I love you too.”

You sleep better than you ever have, happier than ever knowing that no matter how hard things get, you have Bucky by your side, and that alone will make things easier.

-

main taglist: @lilyalone @crazyunsexycool @goldylions @yeehawbrothers @buckyssweetheart @buckysprettybaby @sushiseoks @heytheredelulu @somnorvos @ozwriterchick @pxgeturner @gentlelimerence

bucky taglist: @brookeleclerc @justsebstan @myfavbuckyfics

[buckrecs]

do you have a ceo bucky list ?

CEO!Bucky

masterlist | req masterlist

ONESHOT

With Love by @jobean12-blog

Bucky might be the most powerful, successful, smartest, sexiest, most perfect CEO in all of New York but he’s your sweet and soft husband first and knows just how to show it.

Cuffing Season by @lunarbuck

Happy birthday, Mr. Barnes

SERIES

The Bienville by @indyluckycharlie

Bucky is the young CEO of his family’s publishing house. A year into the role and working his ass off, he’s finally taking a much needed vacation (upon the advice of his well-meaning family and friends). Solo and feeling a little lost, Bucky finds himself getting a little attached to the front desk receptionist, a local who grew up on the islands and dreams of bigger things.

Monster-In-Law by @holylulusworld

Your mother-in-law is the worst. She will try anything to ruin your loving relationship with Bucky. Will she succeed?

Beneath The Milky Twilight by @bucksangel

Being Mr. Barnes’ personal assistant has been tough, balancing a full time job while taking care of your younger brothers has you running yourself thin. Then, things take a sharp turn after a dinner with your boss when you disclose your financial situation.

Not Me by @simsadventures

Billionaire/entrepreneur Bucky is married to seemingly timid and meek wife, the reader. While he hates her with all he has, she tried to act her part as the wife of the big CEO. And while their relationship falls apart more and more, they both realised there might be more to the story than they previously believed. Will they be able to repair the damage that’s been done, or will they find happiness in somebody else’s arms?

Eye For An Eye by @sinner-as-saint

Battered and bruising, Y/N is out to seek sweet revenge from a man, James Buchanan Barnes, who tore her family apart 10 years ago. Y/N’s plan was simple; infiltrate his life, mess with his head, toy with his heart and leave him broken. Headstrong, she will stop at nothing, not even when it comes down to her being the villain in her own story...

[ghostlyfleur]

♡ modern!sugar daddy!mob!bucky barnes

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Is this Sugar Daddy!Bucky or is this Sugar Daddy!Bucky 🤭

I think it’s most definitely Sugar Daddy!Bucky😍

[trashmenofmarvel]

Created two new Bucky wips and I haven’t done that in years. Feels good.

First one is a werewolf!Bucky one shot. Tony convinces reader to babysit Bucky during his change (called full moon sitting, because werewolves get lonely and sad rather than vicious on full moons). Instead, Bucky ends up dicking her down in full werewolf mode. Feels guilty about it when he wakes up, but she’s 100% into it. Happy ending.

Second is a longer fic with sugar daddy!Bucky. When Bucky realizes that reader has never been a sugar baby before and she panics at the sex aspect, he changes the terms. Instead of gifts/money for sex, he just wants her company at events (and then later at his home because he’s incredibly lonely despite his playboy reputation).

Cue accidentally falling-in-love-sugar-baby style. Possible sugar daddy rivals in the form of Prince Loki and Baron Zemo. Eventual happy ending (after much angst and pining).

[nicestgirlonline]

Something Sweet

Pairing: Sugar Daddy! Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut ahead!!! Thigh riding, public stuff, dirty talk, sugar relationships, power dynamics, dom/sub undertones

Word Count: 4.9K

Summary : A chance run in with a handsome stranger turns out to be the opportunity of a lifetime

a/n: for @the-slumberparty September Bingo Challenge! No bingo for me this round, I got it in JUST UNDER THE WIRE! Takes me waaaaayyy to long to write lol. Thanks for reading, I’d love your feedback! Reblogs and comments are love <3

You placed the candy bar on the counter in front of the very bored cashier. You dug through your purse and pulled out your debit card and handed it over. A queue had started to form behind you as you tapped your hand in anticipation. 

“Declined.” The cashier said, holding out the card for you. Your stomach dropped. You were afraid this was going to happen. You were so sure that you had enough in your account for at least a candy bar. You had paid the overdraft fees from last month, so you should have been set. Your stomach gurgled a bit. You were so hungry. 

“Um, can you try it again?” You asked, hoping it was some sort of mistake, that the bank was just a little slow to catch up with your account. She let out a sigh and placed it in the machine again.  

You could feel the stares behind you. You looked back at the line; directly behind you was a tall man dressed in a suit, checking his watch. He looked like he must be very important. He had dark brown hair that was neatly styled and just a touch of a five o’clock shadow. It was incredibly handsome. His icy blue eyes flicked from his Rolex to you, making you quickly turn back to the cashier. 

“Declined. Again.” The cashier handed it back this time with a look insisting you take the card from her. Humiliated, your cheeks began to turn red. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled as you shoved your card back into your purse so you could clear the shop as quickly as possible. In your haste, you accidentally ran into Mr. BusinessMan. You collided with his body like a brick wall. “Sorry! I’m so sorry! Fuck I’m a mess.” You cried out as you ran past him this time. 

You ran directly out onto the street, the cool air filling your lungs. You dropped down onto the curb to spend a minute catching your breath. You could feel your heart still racing, your body going into fight or flight mode. 

Money, money, money. It all always came back to money. If you didn't have the money for a god damn candy, how were you going to make rent in less than two weeks? Tears threatened to escape your eyes and you squeezed them shut. 

Here you were, no food in your stomach and soon to be no roof over your head. You looked at your phone, a flip phone from 2013 that miraculously still worked. The last text you had gotten was from your mom “Fridge broken. Send more this month.” 

God fucking damn it. 

“Hey! I think you forgot this.” A deep voice called out behind you. You turned to see the business man from the shop! Confused, you grabbed your purse and checked to make sure you hadn’t left your keys or something. The man held the bar you had left at the counter. He held it out to you. You didn’t go to grab it, you just stared.

“Oh. Um, you didn’t have to…” You began but he squatted down next to you and placed the candy on your lap. 

“We all have bad days. Doesn’t cost me nothing to be nice. You look like you deserve something sweet.” He had a very kind smile on his face. It did cost him something though, it cost him more than what was currently in your bank account. “You ok?”

“I’m…I’m ok. I’m going to be ok. Thank you, really.” You could feel the tears spilling over and you started to wipe your face so he wouldn’t see.

“You must really like candy to be crying over it.” He lightly joked, which only made you want to cry more. You let out a little laugh that sounded more like a strangled gasp. It was so overwhelming, the simple act of charity.

“It’s just…really really nice of you.” You gasped, the tears finally flowing freely. “I don’t remember the last time anyone has ever given me something…I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, hey, hey, you’ve got nothing to apologize for.” He reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort you. “I’m James.”

You gave him your name, finally ceasing your tears. You took a deep breath, you couldn’t just fall apart in front of this kind stranger, he was probably running late to some sort of business meeting anyway.

“You have a way to get home?” he asked, he pulled out his phone and began to tap on it. You nodded your head. 

“Yes, yes I do. I have money left on a bus card, really thank you so much James.” He smiled at you when you said his name. He placed his phone back into his suit jacket. He took your hand and helped you up.  With your spiral into darkness slightly stalled, you took in your savior. He was so classically handsome. When you looked into his blue, blue eyes you felt like you were drowning in them. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, your heart raced. 

“Get home safe, alright doll?” You nodded, clutching the candy bar to your chest. You took off down the street after giving a soft goodbye. The kindness of strangers had given you more hope than you had in a long time. 

You idly wondered about James as you ate on the bus. Your money problems were still lingering in the back of your mind but your thoughts were clear. 

You tore open the candy bar, taking a bite of the delicious treat. The chocolate melting on your tongue, the sugary sweetness coated your mouth. You got a rush from the sugar and let out a sigh. 

Maybe things were going to be ok, it was a sign that the universe was on your side. 

{}{}{}

You put on your waitress face and did your best to keep up the highest energy tonight. You were all bubbles and giggles throughout the shift. You would smile and laugh at every lame joke a customer would tell you.

Half way through your shift the place was packed. You should be grateful it was busy, you were getting good tips but hadn’t had a moment to breathe since you walked out onto the floor. You carefully balanced a tray of shots and an order of bacon-wrapped dates to drop off before you made it to the party that just sat down in your section. The hostess had put them back in the booth that was partially tucked away with velvet curtains. Big spenders for sure. You smoothed down your dress and tossed your hair over your shoulders as you made your way over. 

“Hiii how are we doing tonight Gentle--” You began your usually bubbly opener, voice high pitched and energetic but as you took in who was sitting in front of you, you stumbled. 

James. Your candy savior. The bodega hero. Him and three other men were waiting to be served. He was wearing a new suit, this one with no tie and a few buttons undone from his shirt. Damn he could really rock a suit, he filled this one out perfectly too. FUCK.  

“Ahem, excuse me gentlemen. So what can I start you off with?” You quickly recovered, grabbing your pad and pen and focusing your eyes on the paper. You prayed that with your heavy makeup and fluffed up hair that maybe he wouldn’t recognize you, or maybe just wouldn’t even remember. 

“Hey there sweetheart, hope my good looks didn’t startle you.” His charming grin grew as you bashfully waved your hand at him.

“Oh I'm used to handsome, it's just a little busy in here tonight. Are we just starting out the night? Maybe with some shots?” You offered with a grin of your own. He seemed pretty pleased with your flattery. James was silent as the other two ordered a round of shots, his gaze was fixed on you. You went to turn to put the order in but as you went James’s hand shot out and he grabbed your wrist. 

You froze and stayed.

“Hold on a minute Doll, you didn’t take my order yet.” His voice was low and easy. You lightly moved your hand out of his grasp to put pen to paper. You nodded to him hoping to get his order. “I want a whiskey. Neat. And bring the whole bottle out.”

“Whoa, we’re getting bottles tonight?”

“Sounds like you guys are going to have some fun!” You said quickly writing down the order with a flourish. This time you managed to escape to put the orders in. As you waited by the bar for the orders you felt your heart racing. It wasn’t just the adrenaline of the fast paced night. Seeing James again had put you completely off kilter. It was humiliating, the last time he saw you, you were crying in the street. He must find you so pathetic. If he even recognized you?

James and his party stayed practically til closing, ordering more and more. The bill they were racking up was so notable that Jeremy himself came out to thank them for their patronage. The other girls were all playfully jealous, it wasn’t you who could normally hook in the big spenders like that. 

“Sadly, it seems we’ve got to end it here. Little guy can’t hold his liquor.” James said motioning to the one you learned was named Sam.

“M’fine.” He slurred. The blonde man who was called Steve laughed and threw an arm around him as he swayed. The two made their way to the exit leaving you alone at the table with James. He smiled at you expectantly. You just wanted the night to be done with. 

“Whenever you’re ready!” you placed down the bill on the table. 

“Hold on Doll, I’m ready now.”  He pulled out a shiny black card from his wallet, and quickly scribbled down on the receipt. You took the card with a smile, ready to go charge it. You glanced down on the tip and your eyes nearly fell out of your head. 

He had given you a 100% tip.

“Problem?” He asked, innocently cocking his head to the side. You glanced at the bill again, rereading it as slowly as you could to try to make sure you weren’t mistaken.

“I think you might have mixed up the tip and the total-” 

“No mistake. I’m tipping for the fantastic service.” 

“I really don’t know how comfortable I am with that James. Is this because of this morning?” Your voice was pathetically small. 

“Oh so you do remember me?” He asked flatly. You looked up at him. His sudden tone made your stomach clench. 

“I mean…of course I do but that’s not very professional of me. I’m sorry-” You immediately tried to amend the situation. This was somehow your fault, you could tell. 

“You apologize a lot. You don’t have to be sorry for getting something you want.” James’s tone was no longer angry. 

“I don’t need pity.”

“It's not pity, Doll. You gave me a service and now I’m paying you what I think is fair. I know you probably aren’t used to people giving you what you’re worth. You probably don’t even know what your worth is, do you?” When his icy blue eyes met yours it was like you were really being seen for the first time. You loved it as much as you hated it. 

“I’m not…I’m not worth anything much. Here’s your card sir, have a good night.” 

You ran off, your face hot with humiliation. 

{}{}{}

You had hoped that would be the end of it. Even with the insane tip from James you were still on the outs with your money. Now that rent could be made there was the electricity, gas, and water. Then the money you would send back to your family, oh and food for yourself. You couldn’t forget that. You kept all ten shifts that you had managed to beg Jeremy for. The big night with James made him much more amenable to your requests. 

It was only for a split second but you saw him at the hostess table. With two different men at his side, there stood James for the second night in a row. You whipped your head around and scurried to the back. 

“Wanda, he’s here again. Again!” You squealed to your co-worker who was just preparing to start her shift. 

“Who, Mr. Moneybags? Well aren’t you lucky.” She said, giving you a playful glare. 

“I don’t want to deal with him again. Please take my table?” you pleaded. 

“Don’t need to ask me twice, I’ll be getting that nice tip tonight.”  She tossed her coppery hair over her shoulder and smoothed down her dress one final time before strutting out onto the floor. 

He wasn’t here for you, you told yourself. You were just being paranoid. Wanda was going to have all of them eating out of her hands by the end of the night, you told yourself as you started out towards your first table. You pushed it from your mind. 

But you couldn’t help but glance over to his table, and the glance was more than enough to see that James was not happy. Wanda and her incredible curves didn’t seem to distract him at all. You could see her laughing and chatting but James was a dark cloud.  

Fine, who cares, he was going to give Wanda a ludicrous tip because he was a generous tipper. He wasn’t pitying you, he wasn’t trying to give you charity, that's just who he is. You scamper towards the kitchen to put in your orders and hopefully hide out a while. 

Wanda came back towards the kitchen, placing her orders and grabbing the food that was ready. Her beautiful smile fading into a line when she made eye contact with you. 

“They were really really insistent that it has to be you tonight. Even just to go over and say hi. ” She said, her tone was dry. Nervous butterflies erupted in your stomach. You bit your lip. What could this possibly mean? 

{}{}{}

You were normally pretty steady in your heels, but the floor was suddenly uneven as you approached James’s table.

“Well hi there, gentlemen. I-I can take your drink orders tonight. Give Wanda a hand.” You babbled, trying not to flub over any words. 

James smirks at you victoriously. He doesn’t need to say anything, his eyes say it all. He had gotten his way.  

The party once again racked up a ridiculous tab.  Nothing was stopping him. The rest of the table had cleared out quickly, leaving just you and James. 

He opened his wallet and laid out the tip, bill by bill. He pushed the fat stack to you, not breaking eye contact once. 

It was multiple hundred dollar bills, but you were too stunned to count. The anxiety that had been building since you first caught a glimpse of James again finally came bursting out of you in a tidal wave. You tossed the cash back on to the table. 

“Please stop. I can’t…I can’t keep doing this, I don’t know what you expect from me.”  You gasped, allowing your facade to crack as you stared up at him with tears wetting your eyes. 

You weren’t scared. But you were confused. This sort of attention must have meant he wanted something from you and…you were fairly certain of what that was. 

“This is how this business works, you did something for me, and I paid for your services.”

“I -- I--” Your breath was caught in your throat as he leaned closer to you to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. 

“Poor thing, you’ve never been treated well in your whole life, have you? I know why you’re so nervous. You’re not stupid, you're really smart. I don’t expect anything from you tonight.”

He took a breath and it was like he was stealing the air right from your lungs. “But. I would like to make an offer, if you’d be interested. I just want one hour of your time.” 

“I’m not a whore.” 

He caught your chin in his hand and made you look back at him, his eyes dark and humorless.

“What an ugly word. Nobody’s calling you that doll. Have dinner with me.” His thumb traced over the apple of your cheek.  

{}{}{}

One hour of your time. You kept thinking about it over and over again. It was just one hour. This ostentatiously wealthy man was paying you to have dinner with him. It’s not a crime. But it felt so dangerous. Sneaky and dirty. Part of it was terrifying but it was also…exciting. 

This restaurant was leaps and bounds above your place of work. It was all very classy. You tugged on your skirt just a bit, hoping you weren’t going to stick out. You were brought through the restaurant, up some stairs to a private party room. It was a huge table, with only two places set,  a glow with dozens of candle’s soft light. The walls were all windows, looking over the restaurant the other a breathtaking view of the city. 

James was waiting for you when you arrived. He looked you up and down appreciatively, his eyes lingering. He stood up like a gentleman when you got to the table. He pulled the chair out for you. 

“Oh um, thank you.” You said as he pushed you into your spot once you were seated. 

“No thanks necessary, Doll.” He placed the napkin from the plate on your lap before returning to the seat across from you. The waiter who brought you up took your drink orders before leaving you alone. 

The door clicked closed and suddenly there was a tense silence between you two. What was next? Were you supposed to say something? Or should you wait for him? 

“I trust the ride over was pleasant?”

“Yeah, um, no issues at all. I’ve never been here before, any recommendations?” Why were you so awkward? Should you be seductive? Should you be professional? Was this a business transaction or a date? Every time your eyes met his he looked hungry. For you. It made you flush. 

“You can get anything your heart desires. Pick out whatever has the most zeros next to the name.” He grinned. “The seabass is pretty good too.”

You wrinkled your nose a bit. “It's not too…fishy is it?” 

“Well it is fish.”

“But is it fishy fish?” James laughed at that. 

“It's a fishy fish. The steak is good too, but it's a steaky steak. So you know.” He joked. It made you laugh a bit too. It was like a spell was cast over you, the tension was released and your nerves vanished. The conversation flowed between the two of you easily.  

Your food came, he didn’t bring up anything. He had asked for an hour of your time, because he was going to propose something to you. You had friends who had “boyfriends” who weren’t really their boyfriends. Men who would pay for the fun that night, but they got paid back in other ways. 

You never had thought of yourself as that girl. But here you were. The anticipation made you nervous but you couldn’t deny the excitement.

He ordered dessert for the two of you, champagne and strawberries with cream and chocolate. 

You glanced at your phone, there was about ten minutes left of “your time” that he had purchased. 

“I hope I’m not so boring that you’re counting down the minutes.” James commented as you put your phone back in your purse. You shake your head.

“No I just…we have some things to discuss right? And an hour is what you asked for…”

“I am willing to pay overtime, if you’re still enjoying yourself. But if we’re down to the minute here, we should talk.” He folded his hands on the table. 

“I like you, I think that we can make something together. You seem like you need some help and call me old fashioned but I just can't resist a damsel in distress. I’m a busy man, with a lot of work and a full schedule, not really much time for dating. Not a fan of the apps either. What I am looking for is an arrangement. I want a companion and can keep you very well compensated for it.”

“So you’ve had…arrangements like this before.” You asked slowly. It didn’t make much sense to you. He was so unbelievably handsome. How could he have trouble finding anyone to be with?. He filled out his clothes so well, his strong square jaw made you want to swoon. How could it be you that he wanted? 

“Yes. Does that bother you?” 

“I-I’ve never done anything like this before.” You admitted. You cleared your throat. “What sort of things are you looking for from your…companion.” Your eyes were suddenly very focused on the bowl of strawberries in front of you. You hadn’t had a boyfriend before, but you’d been with men. Your idea of a sugar daddy was always a creepy old man, desperate for a young thing to fuck. But he didn’t seem desperate at all. The way he pinned you with his gaze was making you feel desperate for him. 

James reached out and placed his hand over yours.

“I am looking for everything. I want someone who’ll keep me company at home, someone I can buy gifts for, someone I can take out on dates.” He squeezed your hand, rubbing his thumb in circles over your wrist. “I’d like someone who’s going to stay the night too.”

Your stomach flipped. You knew what he meant. 

“Ah, like, sleepovers?” You giggled nervously. “I was never allowed to have those, as a kid. I always had to watch over my siblings.” 

“I didn’t have any either. Romanian immigrant parents. They didn’t really…get it?” James smiled, it was different from the grin that had been on his lips all night. It almost seemed shy.  “So maybe we should make up for lost time, hm?”

“But what would it be like? Being your…companion?” You were testing the waters. He was being a bit too vague for your liking. The word sugar baby had never been said but that’s what this was going to be wasn’t it? He wasn’t asking you to be his girlfriend. But he wanted you. And you wanted him. 

Should you get a contract? Or was that only something that happened in trashy romance novels?

He picked the bottle of champagne, his veins bulged in his strong grip. He easily flicked the cork off, popped the champagne with a loud bang that made you jolt. He smirked at your reaction. He poured himself a glass effortlessly then stood, walking to your side of the table. He was completely relaxed, in total control the whole time. 

He towered above you as he poured the bubbling liquor into the champagne flute in front of you. You could smell the rich musk of his cologne. He picked it up to offer it to you.

“If you agree to be mine, I would take you out to nice places like this, buy you whatever you like and then we would keep having fun all night.” His eyes sparkled. Your heart began to flutter, his eyes making you feel like you were the only person on earth. And you could get anything you wanted. 

You took the flute from him. You took a sip of the dry sparkling wine. It tasted expensive. 

“Do you want me to quit my job?” You said plainly. 

“Being CEO means I don't exactly have a 9-5 schedule and neither does a cocktail waitress. I don’t want to have to deal with scheduling around each other. Part of this is about you being available to me. You can take a leave of absence?” He was still standing, but had leaned against the table facing you. The CEO drop gave you a slight pause. You knew he was rich but…you were nervous to ask just how rich. Did it matter? You wondered to yourself. He was so handsome, you didn’t need specifics. You needed him.

“I don’t think that's an option for me.” You said trying not to roll your eyes. 

“Trying not to seem too pushy Doll, but…I want you to quit your job. I’ll be your job from now on. I can cover any of the expenses you’d need a job for. Being mine means spending late nights at my apartment, weekend trips to Europe, I don’t want you to worry about anything but me. If you agree, of course.”

He held out his hand to you. “Or is my time up?” 

You grabbed his hand. Your fingers interlocked. You nodded your head. James smiled and pulled you out of your seat. You quickly stood, eyes looking up into the icy blue pools that captivated you. His lips lightly pressed against yours. It was so soft and romantic, you surrendered to him easily. Your lips moved against him, assuring him, assuring yourself, you could do this. 

“You know why I got the strawberries right?” He asked as he pulled away motioning to the nearly forgotten dessert. 

“Yes…I’ve seen Pretty Woman. They bring out the sweetness of the champagne” You replied smartly. He laughed again. You made him laugh a lot, and every time you did your heart would race.

“I got them because I’m pretty sure you have a sweet tooth. And I thought it could be fun.” He scooped a dollop of cream onto a berry and brought it up to your lips. You obediently opened your mouth, taking a bite of the fruit. The bright, sharpness of the berry was contrasted by the fluffy sweetness of the cream. It was so decadent you needed a minute before you could take another bite. 

He pressed his hands against the small of your back and guided you slowly towards him.

He eased down onto the chair, planting his feet on the floor. 

He gripped your hips and pulled you to straddle his thigh. He guided you down and you followed his lead. You slowly lowered onto him.Your crotch rubbed against his thigh, you grabbed onto his shoulders to try and steady yourself. His fingers went to your dress and hiked it up to your waist.

You let out a gasp, your eyes quickly darting to the door. He grabbed your chin and pulled your focus back to him. 

“You don’t have to worry about anything tonight. You just have to be mine.”  He murmured, his breath fanning over your face. Your face was burning with embarrassment, you’d never been so intimate in public before.

He began to tap his heel making you bounce up and down. His hands went to your ass. The delicious friction made you bite down hard on your lip as your arousal started to mount. 

“James ahh--” You tried to ask but pleasure started to rocket up your core. Your eyes rolled back as he continued to rock you on his thighs. He shushed you, burying his face in your neck. His hands finally left your hips and grasped your breasts.  You moaned at the sensation. You wrapped your arms around his neck, arching your back bringing his face to your cleavage. 

Your hips moved of their own volition now, faster as the sweet ache between your legs grew. 

They glided over and over his thick thighs, building in speed as you chased after your high. Bouncing up and down, no longer concerned with anyone who might see. 

“What do you want?” he gasped. Suddenly stopping you mid thrust, his grip on your ass held you still. 

“Huh?” you whined, wiggling your hips a bit, but he held you firm. 

“Tell me sweetheart, how do I close this deal, what do you want?” James whispered in your ear, letting his breath tickle you. 

“I--” You took a moment. Your panties were soaked through, you could feel your slickness on his pants. You felt so wanton, but this was what you wanted. “I want my rent paid.”

“Done.” 

“And I want a new phone.” He just nodded as his lips connected with your neck. You moaned as he lightly bit down on your neck alternating between pain and sweet kisses. You suddenly felt powerful, more powerful than you ever had in your life. “I also have student loans and money for savings a-and my sister’s starting high school this year and she’s going to need a laptop, so--” 

His lips had finally worked your neck enough and collided with your lips. He kissed you so fiercely, so overwhelmingly hot that you completely lost your train of thought and surrendered to it. 

“Deal.” he panted as he pulled away from your lips, his forehead resting against yours. You started to ride his thigh again, desperate for a release as the coils inside you wind together tighter and tighter.

“Fuck Doll that’s right, use me, ride my thigh, you’re mine now. Show you how good it is to be mine.” James grunted as you chased your high.

Waves of pleasure came crashing over you. You writhed on his thigh, your panties sticking to the sides of your walls as you collapsed forward. Pressing your head to his shoulder, you could feel him chuckling.

You liked being his. You felt small in his lap as he smoothed down your dress. He wiped some of the sweat off your brows. 

You take another sip of the champagne. It wasn’t sweet, but you could get used to it.

[navybrat817]

I know you haven't written sugar daddy Bucky yet, but is he into somno? Please say yes.

Is sugar daddy!Bucky into somnophilia, nonnie? That's a given.

Maybe you're in bed and a light breeze rolls in from the balcony or maybe you're sunbathing on his yacht and you dozed off. Doesn't matter. He wants you. And maybe part of the arrangement is that he can use you while you sleep. Mutually agreed upon because consent is sexy.

Except he doesn't like to think of it as using you. He wants you to enjoy it. Doesn't mean anything if you don't feel good.

And whether or not you wake up, you can still make out his deep groan of satisfaction and rumble of “that’s my girl” when you let go.

Love and thanks! ❤️

[sarahowritesostucky]

Sexuality Profile: Andy

The main thing about Andy is that he likes power and control.

Not in a hardcore BDSM way, mind you. Oh no. He's a true Daddydom.

Mature Content below the break. Consume Responsibly.

He really loves to just have you be his good girl who's always going to listen to him and be sweet and needy for him. His wife is frigid, so he loves having a woman who is always ready and willing. He likes feeling wanted for a change.

So he's definitely the most "Daddy" of all your five guys, and he knows it because you tell him all the time. You call him Daddy waaay more than you do Ari, Lloyd, Kemp, or Bucky.

When you're with him, he's in complete control - and that's how you like it! He takes over so you don't have to worry about anything. Gone is the usually calculating, business savvy sex worker. In her place? A vulnerable, sweet girl.

You wouldn't characterize it as "age play," what you two do. It's more so just focused on a power imbalance dynamic: He's the smart, in charge, capable one; and you're the innocent, helpless, dumb(ish) one. It's a persona you fall into for him, and yet it doesn't feel like 'acting' at all. You love the escape of getting to be a sweet dumb thing for him.

Andy and Kemp are the only ones of your five who are married (Ari's divorced). Now, Kemp is just completely disengaged from his wife, but you don't get the sense that he minds her.

Andy minds Laurie. He is very unhappily married and would prefer to be divorced, but the stakes are too high (finances, custody of his son). There is ... something else, though.

You don't know what, but there is something dark in his past that Laurie knows about and holds over him. Andy once did something to protect his son Jacob, and you have your suspicions, but he shuts down whenever you ask (so you don't ask).

Whatever is is, you know he's stuck living in a house with a woman he hates.

So for Andy in particular, you really do serve as an escape. You're everything his wife Laurie isn't: submissive, kind, caring, young and sweet, accommodating, and sensual.

He's been diminished and emasculated by his wife for so long, you're like a breath of fresh air to him. You're a place he can come to relax, indulge ...

... and even vent. Out of all your daddies, Andy is the most into spanking.

And for him it's not just a spur of the moment kind of thing. Sure, he'll give you a playful swat during sex, but he also has rules and discipline set in place for you and will calmly punish you with spankings when you fall short.

One of your favorite places to be is over his lap on the bed, his steady voice asking if you're comfortable "before we get started," his hands caressing lightly all over your bum before that first, dedicated smack comes down.

Andy knows how to spank, and his big, masculine hands can pack a wallop. He'll usually let you grind, or situate a vibrating toy under you while he spanks. It's only if you've really done bad that he'll spank you without any stimulation at all.

Now, you like smacks during sex just fine, but you never imagined that you could get so wet from grinding your clit against your daddy's thigh while he punishes you.

You've discovered a lot of things about yourself, thanks to your five daddies, and with Andy the biggest realization you've come to is that you crave having a big, strong, kind and bossy man in control of you. In fact you thrive on it. After so many years of hustling and being "that boss bitch," you're tired of the grind and of having to constantly look out for yourself because no one else will. Andy is a relief to you, in that way.

You call him Daddy a lot, and sometimes "Mr. Barber," when you're being saucy or playful (and it's an instant boner from him when you do).

Andy's favored pet names for you are "babygirl," "sweetheart," and "little one/little miss."

He thrives on making you feel safe and cared for. He loves that protector and provider role. Whenever something upsets you with one of the other guys, he can always tell (and he'll spank, tickle, or edge you until he finally gets the answers out of you.)

Andy and you have a game you play. You'll snuggle together on the couch and you'll both let your hands roam as you watch the movie, teasing and touching and rubbing each other until the end credits roll. It's it's own weird little sort of tantra: playful, teasing, and guaranteed to have you dripping wet by the end of the movie.

Like Ari, Andy is a big fan of morning sex. He almost always wakes up hard, and he loves to just roll you over and press you down into the bedding, plastered to your back with the lube bottle in hand and coaxing you to just close your eyes and "Let Daddy put it in."

Of all your guys, Andy spends the most time at your apartment. He has a desk there because he works so much, and you have a semi-regular routine of sitting beneath his desk and cockwarming/playing with him. It's a favorite activity of yours (especially during his teleconferences).

Andy loves your womanly body, and he's always grabbing and groping you--even parts that you get squirmy and whiny about when he does (he doesn't care he does it anyway).

He loves to see you in lacy, girlish, innocent things--again, not so much an ageplay thing as it is a sweetness and power imbalance thing. Andy's wife refuses to dress up in "silly things" for him, but you are more than happy to accommodate him.

Since the two of you spend so much time just being snuggly together in the apartment, you always either wear cute and tempting loungewear/pajamas, or else very short skirts/dresses with flirtatious thigh high stockings.

Andy was the first of the Daddies that you met. And he's very typical of the sort of "unhappily married and seeking affection"-type clients you used to get a lot of.

He was much more unhappy then and was more controlling and slightly rougher with you for those first few months, but he's mellowed out the longer he's had you and gotten his needs met.

Fun fact: when you first met him, you were considering getting a labiaplasty, but he absolutely put his foot down and forbid it, because he loves that you're "an outie" as he calls it. He told Ari this information, and now the two of them both make a habit of paying extensive attention to playing with your lips when they go down on you, making their point that you'd better never even think about it.

He likes having anal with you. But since you actively dislike it, he only asks for it on very special occasions, and when he can't have that he still likes to rim you and finger you as part of foreplay. When you do let him, he spends an obscene amount of time getting you ready and making sure you've cum at least once before he puts it in.

His favorite position is you on top to start (because he knows you cum fast that way), and him on top to finish.

And his one fantasy that he hasn't yet confided/fulfilled? He wants to have a threesome with you and Ari. (He'd really love to DP, but he knows that's not likely to happen, because you've told him about Ari's ... size.)

And a secondary fantasy: he wouldn't mind cucking Lloyd - he hates that guy.

If there's something you want to know about Sugar Baby and any of the five daddies, feel free to shoot me an ask!

Five Daddies Imagines Masterlist

Masterlist

[xoxosimp]

reader is bucky’s sugar baby and the only thing she’s comfortable being spoiled on hair care products.

bucky mentions to his friends how he’s picking up a gift for his baby and they think it’s jewelry and bucky is like no im getting my girl a deep conditioner since wash day is coming up!

[buckysugar]

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐑’𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏 🧁

this is my main masterlist, everything i ever write will always be here !!

𝐌𝐘 𝐀𝐔’𝐒

♡︎ the spider kid's best friend | b. barnes

peter befriends a lonely little girl who becomes the light of the avengers' life; especially the one with the metal arm — this is their story.

[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 🤘🏻

[blackwidownat2814]

That was perfect!! I expected nothing less from the boys.

Now they just need to figure out how to go about it!

Drabble idea for the sb!au: Bucky enlists the help of his girl's brothers when, in the future, he decides to propose!

this is so cute oh god😭😭

The Most Important Question - sb!au

pairing: ceo!bucky x personal assistant!reader

word count: 1.4k

warnings: none really, mentions of anxiety, allusions to panic attacks, mainly fluff

a/n: i love this series so much pls send more ideas yall!!

sugarbaby!au masterlist | tip jar

-

Dread. Horrible, frightful anxiety. Shaky hands and a heart beating too fast. A whirlwind of uncertainty spirals into what is sure to be a panic attack if left unattended.

Bucky is nervous.

He’s accomplished many things in his life, has been through hell and back, climbed - metaphorically - to the top of Mount Everest, and seen all the beauty - and pain - the world offers.

But no accomplishment, nor any obstacle, could have prepared him for this.

“Buck?”

He snaps his eyes open - not even realizing he’d closed them - and fixates his eyes in front of him. There, standing with a tilted head and confused expression, stands Ezekiel. His right hand is holding the door open while his body leans to the left in a casual, relaxed demeanor, which only seems to further Bucky’s anxiety. Why? He doesn’t know. But it does.

Maybe it’s the secret he’s been keeping, the nearly $8,500 secret currently resting in Bucky’s right pants pocket. He’s opted to wear his nicest jeans and a carefully picked out soft, but not inexpensive, cream-colored sweater. It’s a non-offensive yet homely look, just what he’s going for.

Though maybe he’s put too much thought into his outfit because Ezekiel immediately gives Bucky an inquisitive look, scanning his body as though he feels something is off.

“Not that it’s not cool to see you, but I thought you were supposed to be out of town. Is my sister with you?”

Bucky sucks in a deep breath, his heartbeat quickens, here goes nothing.

“No, she’s with some friends getting lunch, I think. And, technically no. I-I told your sister I was so I could…” Bucky trails off, clearing his throat and wetting his dry lips.

“Can I come in?”

Ezekiel, with his confused expression only deepening, nods slowly, stepping off to the side and allowing Bucky to pass through the threshold of your brother's apartment.

Things are quiet, and a little tense, when he wanders into the living room. Robbie and Lucas have made a home on the couch, laying haphazardly across it as they stare intently at The Lord of the Rings playing on the tv. Though they quickly pause it once they notice Bucky’s presence.

They glance between him and Ezekiel, now standing behind him.

“Hey guys, um. I wanted to… talk to you about something.”

Bucky shuffles nervously, hands clasping together in front of him as he sits precariously in one of the lounge chairs.

All three boys pass a confused, concerned look each others way before setting their gazes on the man’s semi-hunched form.

Everything is once again quiet, tense beyond belief as Bucky struggles to find the right words.

“Look, Bucky, just spit i-“

“I want to marry your sister.”

The atmosphere shifts dramatically, and Bucky’s breathing has stopped almost entirely as your brothers turn to each other once more. A silent conversation passes between them, Bucky’s shaking hand reaching into his pants and pulling it out - a small, black, velvet box. Facing the box towards him, he opens it carefully, showcasing a little less than a dozen simple diamonds forming beautifully intricate patterns around a golden band.

“I love her,” He starts, glancing down at the ring and then lifting his head, gazing at the three boys in front of him - all with blank, neutral expressions.

“And I know that I hurt her, and you still might not fully trust me - and while I know that it was a couple of years ago, I also know how protective you guys are. But, she’s my everything. She’s the love of my life, and while I want nothing more than to be with her even into the afterlife, I know that your opinion is important.”

Bucky pauses, sucking in a few breaths in an attempt to even out his tone.

“As much as she denies it, your judgment, whether good or bad, influences her decisions, big or insignificant. And I know she loves me, but honestly, I… I don’t know if she’d say yes if you didn’t approve of it. I don’t even know if I’d actually ask if you guys would say no.”

Another pause. Another deep breath. His eyelids blink rapidly to prevent the tears that so desperately want to fall down his flushed face at the admission. Because it’s true, he loves you with everything he has. But this is the make-or-break moment, what they have to say is basically determining the rest of Bucky’s life.

“So,” Robbie starts, a little uncertain after a long minute of silence so thick you could slice through it with a blade. “Our opinion is important to you?”

It’s almost as if he’s testing Bucky, guiding him into some sort of trap. But, again, Bucky’s faced hairier situations than this, so he nods resolutely as his eyes travel between the three boys - now all sitting on the couches.

“Yes, it is.”

“Just to clarify,” Lucas glances at Ezekiel and Robbie quickly to gauge their reactions, then clears his throat. “You wouldn’t ask her to marry you if we don’t want you to?”

Again Bucky nods, rubbing one clammy hand over his jean-covered thigh as he mentally forces himself to push the ever growing anxiety to the side so he can get through this conversation.

But then, Robbie throws another question at him, one that Bucky hadn’t actually expected - and he’s gone through what must have been a hundred different fake scenarios to prepare for anything they might throw his way. But this? It catches him off guard, makes his heart constrict in his chest.

“Would you break up with her?”

Bucky has to physically stop the shudder that wants to run through his body. He hasn’t actually planned for the event that they actually would say no. It’s evident by the way he flounders, clearing his throat twice while furrowing his brow as he thinks over what to say.

Would he?

His immediate answer is ‘no’. Of course he wouldn’t break up with you, he loves you too much to let you go. But, then again, if they say no then that says so much about how they feel about him and your relationship. And, truthfully? Bucky doesn’t know if he could live knowing that they don’t want you two to be together in the way Bucky so desperately wants. He doesn’t know how he could go on with having you so close, yet so far.

“Um…”

“Robbie stop.”

Ezekiel’s voice cuts Bucky off, everyone in the room turning to look at his clear exasperation, accompanied with an eye roll.

“Listen, Bucky,” Ezekiel continues. “You’re a good man, a great one, in fact. And… we’ll be honest here and say that what you did is still in the backs of our minds. But…”

He pauses, adding tension to the air, before finally offering Bucky a sly smile.

“I mean it, you’re a good man. And I know - we know - that you love her, and that there probably won’t be anyone else that’ll love her like you do. And, yeah, you’ll have arguments and petty fights, but, if you can promise us, here and now, that you won’t ever hurt her like that again, then I say ‘yes’.”

Bucky’s heart leaps, nearly out of his chest. And he’s surprised he doesn’t get whiplash from how fast he nods.

“I won’t. I swear it upon everything I have, and everything I am.”

Then, Robbie sighs, nodding resolutely. Lucas does the same, offering Bucky a smile as he chimes in with “I say ‘yes’ too, then.”

And now Bucky wants to cry, but this time for a different reason. Because he’s going to ask you to marry him. Your brothers approve of him marrying you. Holy shit, he’s going to ask you to marry him. But he can’t even freak out over that right now, because the way your brothers are looking at him with fond, amused smiles, make him nearly certain you’ll say yes.

“Thank you,” Bucky croaks, voice thick with emotion. “I-I meant it, thank you guys so much. You have no idea what this means to me.”

Someone chuckles, Bucky’s not too sure who. But that doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is that you’re going to spend the rest of your life with him, and his with you.

“I do have one question, though.”

Your brothers stare at him expectantly, Bucky evening out his breath carefully.

“Can you help me figure out how the hell I’m going to do this?”

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Little snippet of Sugar Daddy love triangle rivals Steve and Bucky to keep @late-to-the-party-81 going until I actually post it!

I'd forgotten how much I'd already written! Just need to get it finished.

“Honey,” Steve smiled, “come and sit down with us.” He gestured to the leather chairs across from his desk.

“Us?”

“Afternoon,” Mr Barnes’ now familiar baritone made you jump, he closed the door behind you and pulled one of the chairs out politely. “We need to talk to you about something.”

Steve and Mr Barnes settled into their chairs too, the intensity of their gaze felt like a flame, licking up from your feet and making you feel far too hot in your t-shirt and leggings. You fiddled with your bag, a gift from Steve right at the start of your relationship, it was your go to now, always on the hall table next to whatever beautiful bouquet Steve had sent you on a Monday. Now it felt like a weight, making your knees feel wobbly.

“Mr Barnes and I -”

“Bucky, please.” From the corner of your eye you could see Bucky’s smile flick upwards.

“Bucky-” Steve said, heavily, “and I have just been finalising the details for White Wolf’s security contract at the new gallery.”

“Well, that’s good news.” You smiled, hoping to mask your nerves behind the batting of your eyelashes and the inviting slick of lipgloss you’d applied before you came in.

“There’s a detail we need to go over first,” Bucky said, half turning in his chair to look at you, “there’s something I’d like before we sign.”

“Bucky here,” Steve spat, “would like to take you on a date.”

[dropofbittersea]

The first time Steve sees Bucky Barnes, he knows he is so fucked.

He can’t be older than 20.

Golden skin and grey eyes with sinfully long eyelashes, a chaotic nest of gelled curls on his head, wearing an almost-transparent grey t-shirt paired with impossibly tight black jeans over his endless legs. He looks up when Steve comes into the lab – summoned by Tony to check out the latest suit redesign – and bites down on his plush lower lip and smiles shyly at Steve.

So, so fucked.

OR

Bucky wants to be Steve's sugar baby, and isn't exactly shy about it.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Neighbour silverfox loki with petite reader would be sooo hot 🥵

Take away that neighbour part and I have an idea.

[mgenchanted]

Babies