John Price X Y/n - Blog Posts

This right here delicious and best believe I’m coming back for more ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

🤍𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬🤍

info: john price x female reader | inspired by 🎧daddy issues / the neighborhood🎧

category: angst, fluff

warnings: negative self talk, dd/lg themes, petnames (sweetheart & doll), lmk if i missed any.

a/n: excited to finally post something of substance on here, i have a million ideas i'm gonna try to write over holiday break.

You let your head fall to the steering wheel, huge, ugly sobs wracking your body. Your chest coiled in pain, constricting around the giant, empty hole of nothing, where something should be. Where you needed something to be. Or someone. 

You felt disgusting as you blew your nose once more, adding the rough napkin to a pile of its snot-covered brethren littering the passenger floorboard. You’d been trying not to cry for an hour, all to no avail. 

Rolling down the window, gasping for fresh air, something, anything…

The sky, dark and cold, offered no comfort, the moon and stars, no light, and the breeze gave only a bitter chill. You needed to not be alone tonight. You couldn’t be alone tonight. Dear god, I’m so tired of being alone…

The phone rang once.

Twice.

Three ti-

“Evenin’.”

“John-” you choked out, tears streaming at the sound of his voice. “John, it hurts.”

“Darlin’, what-”

“Can I come see you?” A pause. “Please.”

“Come on,” he said quietly. “I’ll leave a light on for ya’.”

You threw the car into park, yanked your keys out, and slammed the door. You weren’t gonna make it. He lived on the ground floor, no stairs, that was good. Your head felt like it would float away if it weren’t for the pounding ache. You slumped against his door and knocked as loudly as you could.

A moment passed, and you wondered if the light had already been on for someone else. You ruin everything.

Footsteps. Bolt sliding out of place. Move. You gathered your weight and stood, lip trembling, in front of John Price. 

He wore a simple tee, worn with age, and faded track pants. Nothing fancy. You couldn’t look him in the eyes.

He made a soft vocalization and beckoned you inside. You stepped in quickly, skirting past him, afraid to get him contaminated. He closed the door behind you, locking it with surety, and turned to you with a tilt of his head. “What happened, doll?”

That did it. You crashed into his chest, crying nigh uncontrollably, hands gripping his shirt, hair a mess. 

John let out a small uff and it took him a moment before his arms very gently crossed behind your back. You didn’t care. 

“It fucking hurts, and I hate it, I hate this shit, I just want it to go the fuck AWAY!” you wept into him, tugging at the fabric he wore, hoping the clench of your palm would take away the clench of your heart. 

He sighed. In an instant, his arms had slipped down and around, scooping you off the floor and letting you curl into his torso as he walked to his room. 

“No, John, no, I’ll fuck up the bed, I can’t stop cr-”

“Hush,” he grumbled. His voice sounded thick but you didn’t have the capacity to wonder why. “Y’can’t stand right now. I’ll worry about the bed.”

He nudged the door open with his foot and you did your best to bury your entire head into his shoulder. Something, anything to take it away, to go to sleep, and feel nothing for a while…

John set you down and the mattress cradled your body. His bed smelled like him. Everything smelled like John. He lifted you up by the back and slid a few pillows underneath you, handing you a box of tissues from the nightstand. “Easy, now.” John stepped to the door, but you audibly cried. 

“Please don’t…please don’t leave.”

His eyes rested on you for a long beat, softening by the second. He stepped back to the bed and cupped your tear-damp face in his hand. “Okay,” John said, tucking your head into his stomach. “I won’t leave.” 

Those words set you off again, and your body shook from the weight of the heaviness on your shoulders. “I can’t keep living like this, John, I can’t, I can’t, I can’t-”

“I know,” he murmured as he began to stroke the back of your head, “I know.” Still keeping you tucked into him, John moved over your body and sat next to you, his back against the headboard. “Come here, doll.”

Sniffling, you scooted closer to him and pressed your head into his chest. His arms wrapped you once more, and he touched his rough lips gently to your skin. “I’m here. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”

Your head pounded again, in cadence with your heart, your breathing, your chest, your pain, your everything, and it was all too much-

“Please make it stop, I can’t do it anymore, John, please, please!” you begged, nails carving moons into your palms. 

“Gotta breathe, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Gotta breathe.” John took your wrists in his hands and lifted them above your head, brows creasing at the way your torso still tried to cave on itself, like the implosion of a star. “In…all the way…atta girl, out…easy, now…in…out…there y’go, in…out….” You gradually came down from the high, hiccuping less and seeing more clearly. John sighed again. “Come on, you.”

“Where?” you said, voice cracking. 

“Shower. Warm water’ll do y’good.”

You nodded numbly and held onto his index finger as he stepped around the bed to the bathroom, afraid that he would vanish into the dark. He clicked the lightswitch, and a soft, warm glow illuminated the cool tile room. “Up y’get,” he grumbled, taking you by the waist and planting you straight onto the counter. John leaned into the shower and turned the water on, letting it run over his hands. You let your foot dangle on his leg. You didn’t want to stop touching him. Ever. 

“John?” 

He stood, flicking the water from his fingertips, and motioned for you to lift your arms up. He began to peel your shirt off your body with heartbreaking gentleness. 

“Yes, doll.”

“I’m sorry,” you said through tee-shirt cotton, pulling your arms out of the entanglement.

“Don’t be.” John lifted you from the counter and crouched, unbuttoning your jeans. 

“I am.” You stepped out of the awful denim as he pulled it down your legs. “I feel disgusting and I made a fucking mess of you.”

He stood once more, stepping around you, pulling the fastens of your bra apart. “‘Boutta clean it off.” He moved to face you once more, pulling the straps down your shoulders and away from your skin. John’s eyes found the angry red line underneath your breasts from the combined too-small band and heaving sobs. He thumbed them softly. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely audible over the shhhhh of the water. 

John knelt again, tapping the inside of your thigh. “Gotta get these off.”

You obliged, stepping out so he could hook his fingers around the elastic of your panties and take those off you as well. 

You stood in the pile of your clothing and reached out, tugging at his own. “Can I?”

John nodded, his eyes never once leaving your face as you worked his body out of his shirt and track pants, hovering over his boxers before he stroked the shell of your ear. “It’s okay,” he said, his voice thick again. “Won’t hurt ya’.” You mimicked him, crouching to the floor and tugging the waistband down to reveal his naked body. He was soft, not an ounce of arousal present. Something in your stomach twisted, and tears prickled at the edge of your eyes again. You moved the boxers over his foot and put it on the growing pile of clothes. 

John’s knuckle traced your cheek. “Come on, doll. Into the water with ya’.”

You stood and shivered when his hand came to rest at the small of your back, guiding you slowly into the warm water haven. Stepping over the rim of the tub and into the shower stream, you let the water engulf you, flowing over hair and neck and face and chest. 

John stepped in after you. He didn’t move for a moment, and you opened your eyes to meet his gaze. “What?”

“‘M sorry you’re in s’much pain.”

“...thanks.”

“Let me make it better.” You stiffened. His eyebrows knitted together in alarm. “No, not like that. Easy. Just….” John picked up a dark bottle of shampoo. “Just let me help.”

“Okay,” you whispered, turning to face the water, trying desperately to keep from crying, if only to stave off another headache. 

John’s fingers laced through your hair then, working down to your scalp, through your roots all the way back to your ends. “I know it’s not what you normally use…”

“It’s okay. Thank you.”

John put his palms on your shoulders and turned you gently, gathering you into his still-dry chest and rinsing the soap from your hair. “Not a problem, doll.” 

As the shampoo ran down your back, you lifted your arms ever so tentatively, and put them around his neck. John went still for a moment, but only just a moment, and soon his fingers were back to scrubbing your head. 

You opened your mouth to the smell of his shampoo on your hair and the bare skin of his chest in front of you. His heart, thumping steadily, beat right below your cheek, and you instinctively pressed into him. 

John’s hands slowed and he began stroking your back, gathering any hair fallout, smoothing over your skin, and breathing in your scent the same as you inhaled his. “I got ya’. ‘M not goin’ anywhere.” 

The tears came again, unbidden, but not fighting their way out as they had earlier - now they simply flowed. As you cried, John turned you back around, applying conditioner, body wash, scrubbing your body for you, tapping gently when he needed you to lift an arm or move a leg. He never stopped touching you, never lost contact with your skin. And he didn’t take advantage.

When John tapped your thigh, you wondered vaguely if he would attempt to rile you up, making the excuse of “just cleaning”. But he didn’t. A soft wash cloth lay between his fingers and your folds, and he worked the soap over your mound just the same as he had the rest of you. He lathered your breasts gently, without an ounce of boyishness, simply soaping and rinsing. John’s own body got wet in the process of cleaning you, but you found yourself too exhausted to care. 

As the last of the conditioner was washed out of your hair, John let the water run over your back, holding you between the heat of his body and that of the shower. 

“Thank you, John.”

He nodded, muscles squeezing almost imperceptibly tighter around you. “Let me know when you want to get out,” he murmured.

“Okay.”

Minutes passed and you simply stood in his arms, letting every emotion that once filled your ribcage to the point of breaking flow down the drain with the water. And John stood with you, stroking your hair when the sniffles and hiccups returned, pulling you to him when they subsided. 

You spoke up, quietly telling him you were ready to get out. He shut off the water, reaching out to grab a towel for you and helping you step out of the slick tub.

“Atta girl, doll. Slow. Good.”

John wrapped you in the plush cotton, using another towel to dry off your legs, crouched before you once again. You managed to get to your arms, but it wasn’t long before he made his way up your body and met you there, his eyes soft as he took over. “I got ya’, darlin’. I got ya’.” You looked up at him with still-teary eyes as words failed you. The ghost of a smile passed over John’s features. “I know. You want a shirt?” You looked at your own tee, covered in snot, and nodded profusely. John took your hand and led you back into his darkened room. Switching a lamp on, he opened a dresser drawer and produced an almost-identical faded, age-worn tee, indiscernible from the one on the bathroom floor. “Here you go, doll.” John turned to see you right on his heels, feeling small in the unfamiliar territory. He really did crack a smile then. “Come on. Arms up.” You obeyed, your chin sinking to your chest. His eyes never strayed from their task, even as the towel covering your body fell to the ground and fluffled around your ankles. “I got shorts or pants,” he said, “You got a preference?”

Your skin prickled in the post-shower chill. “Pants, please.”

He nodded and did the same as before, dressing you with quiet comfortability, slipping soft material up over your calves and thighs. Without asking, John also produced a pair of black, thick socks, pulling them onto your feet with ease. 

“Do…do you want me to…?” You gestured to his bare skin. “I…can. If you want.”

He met your gaze, gentle eyes making you feel a bit less hollow. “Just stay next to me.”

“Okay.” I can do that. You settled onto the bed’s edge, feet not quite touching the floor, and watched him pull a shirt over his huge back and another pair of pants over his massive legs. “John?”

“Yes, doll,” he replied as he shook the water from his hair into a towel. 

“Can we…can I, I mean, you don’t have to, can I, um…take a nap?” When he didn’t answer immediately, you tripped over yourself to explain. “Just-just for a bit, I’ll drive home tonight, I won’t stay, I just thought maybe-”

“Sweetheart.”

You sat stock still. John’s hand came up to your shoulder. “Breathe, kid. ‘M not gonna kick y’out. Stay as long as y’need.”

You stuffed your hands in your lap. “Thanks.”

He tilted his chin to the headboard. “Get under the covers, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Your body moved before your brain caught up, and you were snug as a bug in a rug before you processed the full extent of his words. He’ll be here in…does he think we’re…what the fuck- 

As the confusion set in, John returned, leaning on the doorframe, phone in hand. “Y’like pizza?”

You blinked. “Yes.”

He padded toward the bed, clambering onto the mattress - the added weight made your body fall towards him as an uff escaped your lips. You smiled, the first one tonight, and curled under his arm. 

“Y’wanna order it?” John asked, showing you the screen. It’s cracked, but you can still easily make out the Domino’s online ordering menu. 

“Yessss.” You kicked your feet out in his soft sheets. Making your selections, you handed it back to him and watched his face for any sign of displeasure. He showed none. 

“Looks good, doll. You can sleep while we wait for it.”

You sat with that for a moment. “No.” You twisted your head up to look into his eyes. “Thank you, John. I would have driven off the road if not for you.”

He cleared his throat. “‘M glad y’came to me. Thank y’for lettin’ me take care of you.”

“I…like you taking care of me.” Your heart pounded and you became acutely aware of his hand on your shoulder, large palm and splayed fingers. 

“Yeah?” John’s voice rumbled in your ear, low and full and delicious-

“Yes,” you said earnestly, propping yourself up to look at him properly. “John, I…I…” He had the nerve to look amused. “...I…”

John chuckled. “Just stay. Stay and I’ll take care of you.” 

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”  

“I…don’t know what to say.”

His features softened even more, if that was possible. “Don’t have to say anythin’. Just tell me what you wanna watch.” John nodded toward the tv atop his dresser. 

“John…” you sniffled, squeezing his shirt in your hand once more. “Can I just…lay here for a while?”

“Course.” And without a further word, he plucked a pair of reading glasses from the nightstand, opened the faded western they laid on, and began to read. 

A few moments of silence pass, and they are un-fucking-bearable. Your thoughts begin to race again - He doesn’t want you here. You’re a burden. You take up more space than you deserve. What happened to looking out for yourself? You can’t, can you? Fucking pathetic, you are. What happens when he gets tired of you? What happens wh- “John?”

He looked at you over his glasses, brows raised. “Yes, sweetheart?”

You felt small again, but safer. Safer than you had in a while. “Would you mind…reading to me? I don’t think I can sleep otherwise.”

“I’m that tedious, eh?” John grinned when you flicked him on the arm. 

“No! No, I…I want you to.”

“Yes,” he chuckled, “I’ll read to you.” He turned the page back (“Can’t start right in the action, can we?”) and began, his voice flowing in its same gravelly cadence, filling your brain with soft warmth. The story was of a merchant’s daughter and the cowboy she fell in love with, and John had just gotten to the part where her father finds out. “‘-and they came to blows, fists flying through the dusty air, the world fallen silent save for the sound of knuckles on bone, and-’ Are you asleep?”

You blinked, still very much on the verge of unconsciousness. “Nuh-uhhhh…” You stretched out under his comforter, nestling your face back onto his warm thigh. 

“S’okay,” he said. John laced his fingers through your hair once more. “Y’need the rest. Take it. I’ll wake y’up when pizza’s here.”

You needed no further encouragement. As sleep overtook you once more, you managed to mumble out, “Thanks, Daddy.”

John was very still for a very long time.

Then, “...You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

a/n: if you liked this, please let me know with a like, reblog, or comment 🤍

all dividers courtesy of @saradika

I need him so bad (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(„ಡωಡ„)

Can't stop thinking about Price gaining some winter weight, having you warm your cold hands on his soft hairy stomach while you're sat on your knees between his big thighs, looking at the soft fat pad that's starting to settle around the base of his cock as he feeds it to you, your nose tickled by the hair on his stomach as he guides you down towards the base. It all makes his cock seem thicker, makes it feel like he's really stretching out your throat until tears are brimming on your lash line and he's wiping the wetness from your cheeks with a big gentle thumb. He'll make you hold onto his love handles while he fucks your face, just you wait.

I be they wife in heartbeat if they cause who gonna fat them up when they come home (✿ ♥‿♥)(✿ ♥‿♥)( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/

(more of poly 141 x roommate reader bc i got enabled: surprising them when they return home)

The aroma of roasted garlic and thyme filled the apartment, and along with it your voice as you fluttered about the kitchen while music played from your phone. You placed plates of perfectly golden roast chicken, mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables on the dining table beside bowls of creamy mushroom soup and a fresh salad and freshly baked bread.

You would never regret that cooking course you picked up. Everything just looked so… perfect. And that was without mentioning the apple pie and chocolate cake you’d also made, set aside on cute little cake pedestals you’d recently bought.

You smoothed the fabric of your skirt, picking up your phone to check on the time; they’d arrive home any moment now and you couldn’t wait to see their reactions. You’d been planning this dinner since yesterday, when Kate Laswell had called to let you know your roommates would be home today after months of being away on a mission so you could prepare this surprise for them.

You’d promised to send her and her lovely wife a big, big portion just for helping you like that. You always get worried when they take this long, but Kate tried her best to keep you up to date about them whenever they had to be no-contact with you.

The sound of the front door unlocking made your pulse quicken, and you hurried to the entryway, a bright smile on your face. You’d made sure even the candles you and Gaz like to collect were lit up, bathing the apartment in a soft golden light.

“Surprise!” you called, spreading your arms as they stepped inside, grin wide and proud.

For a moment, they stood frozen, tired eyes sweeping over the sight of you and the glowing apartment and the lovely smell of a big, warm dinner. Price was the first to move, dropping his bag and crossing the room in several long strides. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a firm embrace, and you melted against him right away, breathing in the familiar scent of him- smoke, leather, and something uniquely John.

“Hi!” You chirped again, patting his back.

“You’ve outdone yourself, love.” he murmured instead of a proper greeting, voice thick with gratitude.

Soap was next, scooping you into a hug so enthusiastic it lifted you off your feet right after John let you go. “Missed ya, lass,” he said, his grin bright despite the weariness in his eyes. “Look at ya, a sight fo’ sore eyes!”

“Put me down, MacTavish!”

Gaz kissed your cheek the second Johnny obeyed, his hand lingering on your shoulder. “You didn’t have to do all this, darling.” he said softly, though the way he looked at you made it clear he appreciated every bit of it.

Ghost, towering behind them, stood silently for a moment. His eyes roamed over you, taking in the nervous smile tugging at your lips. Without a word, he stepped forward and pulled you into his chest, one large hand cradling the back of your head.

“Perfect girl, thank you.” he muttered, so low you barely heard it. But you did feel it rumble through his body.

You laughed, stepping back and gesturing toward the table. You had to know what they thought of it. “Go wash up. Dinner’s ready.”.

Johnny piled his plate high, moaning exaggeratedly at every bite and making you laugh until your sides hurt. Gaz teased him about his lack of table manners while sneaking extra bread rolls for himself. Price, ever the gentleman, made sure your plate was full before his own, and Simon quietly made his way through two full helpings even, the corner of his mouth twitching into the faintest smile when you nudged him to try the mushroom sauce.

Oh yes, you cooked. In more ways than one. You were so very proud of yourself, felt like you’d blow up like a balloon if they complimented you any more.

“This is the best meal I’ve had in months,” Johnny declared at last, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh and patting his stomach. He turned to you, gently caressing his knuckles across your full cheeks. “Thank ya, lass. Truly an angel.”

“You’ve ruined me for army food forever,” Kyle added, humming as he bit into another spoonful, smiling at your giggles. “Whatever next mission we’ll have is so going to suck, by the way. I mean it.”

Price reached over, covering your hand with his. “You didn’t have to do all this, love, but I’m damn glad you did,” he said, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. His mustache twitched, and he smiled at you. “Kyle’s right, though.”

Simon didn’t speak much, but the way his gaze lingered on you, warm and heavy, spoke volumes. You’d already learned how to decipher his little looks, anyways.

As the evening wound down and they cleaned the kicthen, then went to rest in the living room, you brought out the second surprises: the chocolate cake and apple pie, earning a round of groans and cheers. They insisted on helping with the second round of dishes, but you waved them off, laughing.

“Go relax,” you said, shooing them toward the living room. “This is my treat for you. You were supposed to be relaxing today!”

Though you didn’t notice the way they watched you as you moved about the kitchen.

When you finally joined them, changing into something more comfortable, you curl up on the couch tucked against Simon’s warm side and his arm drape around your shoulders almost instinctively. Soap stretched out across the floor, his head resting on a pillow near your feet, while Kyle sat on the other side of you, casually brushing his hand against yours.

It didn’t take much before you were dozing off, their quiet congestion washing over you as a soothing ambiance. You relaxed even further when you were shifted to lay fully against Simon while Kyle put your feet on his lap and began massaging your calves.

John stood by the balcony, his cigar glowing faintly in the dim light. He looked at you, surrounded by them, and something in his chest loosened.

You were too good for them, truly. Such a lovely, perfect sweetheart. But he also just- couldn’t stand the idea of you being with anyone else. Never.

So he wouldn’t entertain that thought. You were perfect as you were now; just a bit more time, and they’d tell you right out how much they want you in every possible way.

Though he didn’t imagine it’d be that hard, anyways. You already acted like their perfect little wife.

(✿ ♥‿♥)(✿ ♥‿♥)

I feel like john price is the kind of old-fashioned guy who surprises you with a trail of roses leading up the bed where you find him naked, sprawled on his side with a bottle of expensive champagne covering his crotch

a cheeky grin on his face as you eye up his thick thighs, burly chest and pudgy tummy

sigh do you see the vision?

I wish this was me(>ᴗ•)

something about price slapping your pussy after fucking it all bruised and sensitive makes me dizzy. thinking about the heavy and consistent slaps on your cunt; the way he’s bullying it with a quiet tut.

“what a desperate cunt y’have,” he murmurs after a wet gush, your squirt and slick spreading to your pelvis and thighs with each smacks. “need to keep ‘er entertained, don’t i? always needy — it doesn’t even need t’be my cock.”

he sighs in faux disappointment. “such a greedy girl.”

you gurgle your replies, unable to properly speak with the searing pain and blistering pleasure blending into something so cathartic, your toes are curled at your peaking euphoria.

bloating.

the orgasm is close. closecloseclose—

john’s hands still, roughened palm gently falling to the meat of your thigh instead. he leans close, eyes crinkled as he smiles down at you.

“no cummin’ yet, kid,” he croons, breathless.

fuck. him.

EATING WELL TONIGHTTT

john who’s married to reader, who’s very comfortable in her home. even when the boys are staying…

the first time they came over and you did it, it shocked them to their fucking core. everything had seemed normal up until this point. you greeted them all with a hug, a kiss for your husband, and seat them all in the kitchen. beers and dinner placed in front of then within the next couple of minutes. what a sweetie…

you planted yourself on john’s lap, your plate next to his at the head of the table. your serving already dished up by your husband whilst you took care of his men. he feeds you from his fingers every once in a while, no one says a word when you suck his fingers after, cleaning them up with your tongue. that wasn’t even the craziest part…

no, it was the next morning when they were all sat at the dinner table again. john at the stove frying up bacon, eggs and all the fixings for a full english whilst you take your morning shower. everyone turns their head to greet you when they hear your feet padding down the stairs, only to shoot out their heads when you come prancing in, naked as the day you were born

except for john, who presses a kiss to the top of your head when you grab your coffee (already made by your husband) off the counter. simon, soap and kyle on the other hand, don’t know whether it’s acceptable to look at you right now, or if their captain expects them to avert their eyes for a minute

but then john sits at the table, same place as the night before. and then you sit at the table, also the same place as the night before. stark naked for all the lads to gape it. johnny’s eyes flicking between your tits and your husband, waiting for him to wake up from what must be a wet dream

but you pay no mind to the men gawking at the scene in front of him, your damp skin glistening as you sit on john’s thigh and chow down on your toast. your husband couldn’t care less about your state of dress as he reads through the morning paper, arm hooked around your hips and thumb grazing just below your belly button…

Screaming!

CW: 18+ MDNI, neighbour!price x reader - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

You find out John Price doesn’t play around when it comes to catching up on sleep when he’s on leave.

Struggling to bring in a heavy package one morning, you’re startled by your neighbour emerging from his unit huffing and puffing tiredly about noise in nothing but a simple pair of low hanging pyjama bottoms.

You’re concerned you’re going to get an earful when he wordlessly hoists the box up, uncaring about the way it tugs at his waistband to expose a dusting of hair and noticeable veins. Leaving your delivery just inside your door, he turns to look at you through squinted eyes, and your cheeks heat up when you realize you’ve been caught watching it bob under the loose fabric.

In your defence, he cuts quite the hypnotic figure from the side.

“Thank you, John-“ you try- only to be interrupted by a thick arm hooking around your neck; the other reaching behind him to close your door with just a tad too much force. His free hand lowers to scratch at his belly, prompting a loud yawn as a thick palm dips lower, giving himself a little squeeze. With a content hum rolling around in his chest, he pulls you into his apartment.

“Too early.” He grumbles as he flops onto his well-worn couch, half asleep and tugging you with him. Like a strangler fig, he rolls onto his side and cages you against the cushions, his legs tangling around yours and his cock unmistakably fattening against your belly.

Couple's Trip

Summary: you and John take a trip for your anniversary and John has a very special question to ask

Pairing: John Price x gf!reader

Words:~ 2.0k

Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst(?), smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it folks :3), MDNI!!

A/N: so this has been sitting in my drafts for months and I finally finished it! Probably the longest fic I’ve written and I’m not sure how I feel about it(I feel like I’m better at writing fluff pieces rather than spicy ones maybe?)but let me know what yall think! I’m working on another Price fic and a Soap fic so stay tuned! :)

A/N: As always likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback of all types are welcome and my inbox is always open! Hope you guys enjoy!!

***beware of typos lol

Your mind wandered as you zipped your suitcase shut. John announced you were taking a trip for your anniversary and refused to tell you where. "You'll find out when we get there love," he said with a laugh after you pestered him to tell you. You walked downstairs and set your suitcase by the front door.

Through no fault of his own John wasn't always around for your anniversary. He always tried his best to to have his leave coincide but it didn't always happen. Usually you just had a nice dinner at home or John would surprise you with flowers; both of which you enjoyed. Needless to say you were shocked but excited when John told you he had a few weeks leave and had something big planned.

"Hey hon, remember to pack your toothbrush this time," you said, doublechecking to make sure you had everything. "You forget it every time," you mused. "I'm not going to forget my toothbrush dove. And I don't forget it every time," Price argued; he checked his suitcase and realized he forgot. He went to the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush to pack it away without telling you.

"Are you ready love?" Price asked. "I want to get going," You noticed your boyfriend seemed to be acting weird. He was very fidgety and it wasn't like him at all.

"You okay?" You asked. "You seem anxious to get going,"

"Yeah I'm fine love I just want to get there before dark," Price replied, taking the luggage outside. He loaded the suitcases into the back of the car and slipped his hand in his pocket. His fingers brushed against the velvet box resting in his pocket. "Well if we want to get there before dark we should get going," you called out and shut the door behind you, locking up the house.

You noticed the scenery started to change from hilly landscapes to dense woods. You started to get excited about what was at the end of your little road trip. The car turned on to a cobblestone stone driveway that led to a beautiful cabin overlooking a private lake surrounded by trees. "Oh John this is beautiful!" You said, looking out the window. "How did you know about this?" You asked. "An old mate of mine offered to let us use it for the week," he smiled watching you try and take it all in.

"This whole place is for us?" You asked, wondering if you could possibly see everything in just a few days. Price squeezed your thigh. "Just us," he said, parking the car. "Here love," Price stated. He fished in his pocket pulling out a set of keys. "Here's the keys to the cabin. Why don't you go take a look around, while I unload the car" he suggested.

You smiled and took the keys from him walking up to the front steps. You unlocked the front door and stepped inside. The living room was decorated in a way you would expect a cabin to be decorated. A large sofa facing a tv mounted on the wall, a large red rug in the middle of the floor, an end table with a lamp beside the couch, a tv stand, large fireplace, and a chandelier made from antlers adorned the living room. There was also a full kitchen to your right when you walked in.

You made your way to the stairs and found the master bedroom. A king size bed was the centerpiece of the room with a wool blanket draped over the end. The curtains were drawn and a soft light emanated from a lamp sitting on a bedside table.

Your footsteps were hushed by the soft carpet as you walked to the bathroom. The master bathroom was beautifully decorated in finished wood and white accents with a big claw foot tub; definitely big enough for both you and John. A window that faced the lake and woods let in a nice breeze and you couldn't help smiling, the fact it was yours for a few days finally setting in.

You came down the stairs just as John set down the last of your luggage. "So? What do you think?" Price asked, smiling as you wrapped your arms around him. "It's perfect John!” you smiled. "It's so beautiful," you planted a kiss on his lips.

Over the next few days the ring Price carried around burned a hole in his pocket. He tried finding the right time to ask you but everytime he tried he got nervous. He was the Captain of the most elite special forces team in the world and he couldn't even ask you to marry him. He sat at the edge of the dock, his fishing pole in his hands. He looked at the water waiting for a fish to bite and thinking about how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. If only I could just ask her. With a frustrated sigh, he got up to stretch his legs still holding the fishing pole.

These few days seemed like a dream to you. Getting to spend this time with John was something you didn't always get to have. You noticed your boyfriend's behavior was somewhat off. He was anxious and fidgety when he's normally the calm and self-assured one in the relationship. You saw him sitting at the dock fishing and you smiled to yourself. His behavior may have changed but him fishing certainly hadn't.

You opened the front door and started walking down the cobblestone path the sweet air warming your skin. You saw little firefly's glowing in the garden flying around. "Have you caught anything yet?" You asked, siting down in a lawn chair with him standing holding his fishing pole. John glanced over and saw you wearing one of his army green t shirts and a pair of sleep shorts; he felt his heart skip a beat and his cock swell embarassingly hard despite the spirited romp in the sheets a mere few hours prior. For some strange reason, it made his thoughts drift back to the little box still tucked away in his pocket; he carried it with him everywhere since they got here. He still couldn’t believe he had trouble asking you a simple four-worded question. It was almost laughable that something so simple had the Captain racked with anxiety. The man who was feared just as much as he was respected in the field. What if you said no? What if you didn’t actually love him and this was the push you needed to leave him? He grimaced as his thoughts got more and more out of control.

“No I think I missed most of them,” he muttered and turned his attention back to the water. You furrowed your eyebrows; something was up with your boyfriend. Not much fazed the 6’2” Brit so to see him so lost in thought worried you. You got to your feet and wrapped your arms around your lover; your hands dipped underneath the shirt he was wearing and felt the dusting of wiry chest hair. You ran your fingers down the strong expanse of his chest and abdomen following the happy trail that disappears into his waistband. “What’s wrong hon?” You asked. “Nothing is wrong I’m fine love,” He grumbled. “You’ve been acting strange for the past few days and that isn’t like you,” You persisted. "I want to know what’s bothering you. You know you can tell me anything right?” You reassured him. John shifted his attention from the still water to you and tried to think of what to say.

“Do you…still love me?” He asked with uncertainty. “Would I have let you put me in those positions if I didn’t?” You teased, referencing the previous bedroom escapades. Seeing his face didn’t change, you realized he was serious. “Of course I do. Why would you think I don’t?” You asked. “Well…sometimes I can’t help but think you’ll wake up one day and come to your senses and leave me for someone who actually deserves you,” He sighed. It felt foreign to him to talk about his feelings but you made him feel safe enough that he could. You always brought out the best of him and it was one of the many reasons he wanted to marry you. “John Price, I am never going to leave you,” You told him, placing your hands on his muttonchops, framing his face. You hated it when he talked so badly about himself. “I love you so much and you deserve everything,” You said, gazing up at him. “Even if I am a grumpy old man?” He asked. “Yes even though you’re a grumpy old man,” you teased. “Hey! Easy now,” He said in mock annoyance. You placed your lips on his, capturing him in a heated kiss. You felt him kiss you back and the tension from his shoulders melted away. He groaned and pressed your bodies together, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass. He chuckled quietly when you whined as he pulled away. “In that case, there’s something I need to ask you,” He slipped his hand into his pocket while dropping down onto one knee. It’s now or never Price. He told himself. Your eyes went wide and filled with tears as you realized what was happening. “Y/N, will you marry me?” He asked, hoping, no silently begging, for you to say yes. “Yes! Yes I’ll marry you John Price,” you cried.

******

“FUCK!” You screamed. The headboard practically hit the wall with each harsh thrust from John. The room was filled with obscene yet erotic sound of panting and skin slapping against skin. “Fuck you’re taking me so well love,” John panted out, taking a glance down to where your cunt practically swallowed his cock. The sight drove him mad and he let out sounds he didn’t know he had in him. Those sounds he was making, the breathy groans and whimpers almost made you come then and there. “Fuck John!” You panted, feeling yourself get closer with every snap of John’s hips that hit perfectly inside you. John could feel you squeezing him like a vice and he knew you were close to coming. He grabbed the head board and pushed your legs to your chest to better plow into you and get as deep as he could into your pulsing cunt. “That’s it love,” He breathed out, his pace unrelenting. “Come for me love, come for me,”. John’s voice sounded strained as he focused on making you come before he did. You keened as you felt yourself go over the edge, coming on John’s cock. You squeezed him so tightly he swore he saw stars and came deep inside you, thick ropes of white staining the inside of your cunt. John rested his forehead against yours, strands of his hair sticking to the sweaty skin. You felt the sheer sheen of perspiration that had covered your own body begin to dry and cool off the longer the two of you stayed in each other’s embrace. "You okay love?” He asked, still out of breath as you both waited for your heart rates to slow. “More than okay,” you smiled lazily. Price gingerly pulled out his softened cock and walked to the bathroom, you admiring his bare ass as he walked away. John used a warm wash cloth to gently clean you up before grabbing a celebratory cigar and lighting it. You watched and admired his naked body as he poured himself a glass of scotch from the decanter sitting on the small table in the room before sliding back into bed with you.

You and John lay slightly tangled in the sheets with your head resting on his chest and his arm around you, relishing in that wonderful, hazy post sex daze. You couldn’t help but stare at the ring on your finger and smile; John was your fiancée and you could hardly believe it. “Careful now or I’ll think you love the ring more than me,” John’s deep baritone voice reverberating in his chest. “Well the ring is pretty great. And all I have is an old man,” you teased, looking up at him knowing he just proved himself to be anything but an old man. Your remark earned you a playful pinch on your ass. You squealed and laughed, swatting his chest playfully.

“Don’t worry Mr. Price I only have eyes for you my love,” You said, planting a kiss on his lips. "I love you,"

“I love you too soon-to-be Mrs. Price,”

Jumping The Gun

or: the one where John Price fucks the idea of marriage into you.

cw: 5.9k words (gawd DAMN), 18+ MDNI, klutz in love!Price, kinda toxic!Price, smut with plot, no use of y/n, dumbification, squirting, p in v, protected & unprotected sex, dubcon, dumbification, creampie, breeding kink, marathon!, water show, cum eating, engagement, reader!has tattoos, reader!is in denial of Egypt, Daddy said a couple times idk, john visuals, reader visuals,

a/n: My Whole Life by Alina Baraz *chefs kiss*

Everyone in the 141 was shocked when John Price came back after taking a month an a half off for leave with a golden ring on his ring finger, a new picture frame to place on his desk, and practically jumping off the roof to fill out more paperwork for a special someone. Again.

You were his third marriage.

John was good at making quick decisions, making up his mind at the exact right time when it was do or die. But the old man was a complete klutz when it came to love.

The first marriage, admittedly, was never gonna last long. He was fresh out of highschool, still in the infantry and married his highschool sweetheart. His parents were sceptical but supportive. It wasn’t uncommon to marry early, hell, his parents did so why couldn’t he?

It just wasn’t in the cards.

The distance and the worry was just too much. The divorce was clean cut since they didn’t have any kids and we’re still young. Him and his ex-wife, Cara, were still fairly close. He’d get a call from the woman and her husband (surprisingly) to come over for dinner every once in a while. No bad blood.

But that second marriage? John was a goddamn idiot.

Was it his fault he married with his eyes and not with his brain? Yes. A man is still a man at the end of the day. You see a woman with an amazing set of knockers on her, pretty blue eyes, skinny waist and blonde hair— you’d fall for it too!

She was obnoxious, loud, and always, always, always needed new clothes, shoes, hair and nails done. Now John had no problem spending on his woman, he’d bring down Jupiter if had to. The problem was she complained and whined. Complained about the clothes not being ‘high quality enough,’ the house not being big enough, the brand new convertible not pink enough. Whined when she went over the already pricey budget the man set for her, that she couldn’t spend his life savings on her, that John was too hairy, ran too warm, too tall—no fucking sense.

He got out of the marriage by the scrape of his teeth, lucky that his siblings convinced him to get a prenup. She left with no pounds to her name, shoving all her belongings in that hot pink convertible and crying that no money went to her when the captain had sold the house.

But you? Oh you. His honey, sweet girl, little wanderer— you were the real deal.

John was walking with a couple friends heading to some bar a few hours after being back in the UK. You were walking the opposite direction, bags from different stores after a day of shopping in your hand. You looked like a model, long black trench coat on, a fitted baby blue crop top, black leather shorts that showed off the tattoos that went down your legs, slouched heeled boots that went mid calf. Curls blowing in the wind, you thankfully hadn’t noticed the hairy fellow till you bumped into him.

“You alright?”

Your brown eyes met his blue ones as he steadied you upright. You were awe struck, as if you were meeting a famous person on the street but you had just ran into a good looking older, muscular, brunette with a few stray grey hairs. You slowly started nodding, laughing aloud at yourself at how dumb you probably looked. “ ‘M just fine.” You said breathlessly.

You started to hear the passing cars, bustle of the streets and the murmur from your phone as your friend on the line was calling out to you. “Shit, I-I gotta go.”

And your feet was guiding you away without another word but your eyes were still glued to the man as you walked away. Looking back as he watched you walk away. You chuckles as you got back on the phone with your friend, disappearing into the croud.

The second time he saw you he was heading for a tea, as he walked past ‘Walker Travel Agency.’ John glanced inside and there a woman sat— no— you, sat turning in your chair towards the computer as you spoke to someone through your Bluetooth. You were dressed in an oversized white button up, black slacks, hair now pin straight in a low ponytail, pinned back by a few purple clips with very a light blush on your cheeks.

Even dressed casually, you were a sight for sore eyes. He tried his best not to look like a creep as he finally went to go get his tea but his eyes were glued to you as he walked past the office again. He figured it was fine just this once. Twice, three times— okay, maybe a forth that was completely out of the way of the military base and his own home but this was fine.

He was just getting tea after all.

But the forth time you stood by the water cooler sipping water, you caught those blue eyes. A small smile formed on your face as he tripped a bit once he saw you finally looking back at him. You gave him a small, shy wave with your fingers before he completely passed the building. Your angelic smile growing wider as he passed the building again to get to his car.

And that continued for another week, waves and smiles and stupid blushes that made his heart jump outs until he finally got the courage to pop his head in. He’d just say hello, this was a silly crush. Nothing more, nothing less.

The doorbell chimed once the door opened and you immediately sat straight in your chair, as you were trained to do when a potential customer came in.

“I was thinking of a trip?”

No he wasn’t. He knew that, you knew that by the way he was completely dressed in military attire and kept staring at you instead of the posters of different vacation spots on the wall. But you nodded your head, gesturing for him to take a seat in front of your desk.

“Where would you like to go sir?”

You two hit it off after that. John would pop his head in, leaving thirty minutes before his lunch break even started just to get his little dose of you, before running off to get a tea. You even started making tea so he didn’t have to go to the coffee shop.

Right, it was his lunch break?

You’d made sure to start packing lunch for two and arranging meetings so your lunch break was suddenly at the same time as his. You didn’t know why you did it for your new friend, it just felt right. You made that forty something year old man feel like a teenager again, he couldn’t just sit on this crush forever. He wouldn’t.

*Care to join me for a pint after work?*

A simple text that he’d debated on for two days had him flushed.

*new message*

Don’t usually drink beer :(

Two days down the drain. Maybe he should’ve asked for dinner instead? Or a movie? A walk? Too fucking causal—

*new message*

but if you’re the one asking, how can I say no?

text me where baby :))

Gaz had to make sure he wasn’t sick before he left work that day because he was as red as a cherry tomato.

You laid it out clean to John that you weren’t ready for a relationship.

“ ‘M too flighty ya see.”

“How so?” You two had already been in the crowded pub at a booth, you’d been chatting for 3 hours already senselessly. One pint for each of you, you weren’t good with beer while John just didn’t wanna make a drunken mistake.

“I told you I’ve just been here for a year, right?”

He hummed, nodding for you to continue.

“Well I was in Brazil before that, Osaka for a couple months before that. DR, LA and France before all that.”

“Oh, you’re a real traveler I see.”

“More than you.” You smirked and John laughed, “Think you can beat me sweetheart? Been all over the world ‘nd back. Thrice over.”

You teased, “I can beat’cha soon enough, just wait on it.” You sighed, picking up your half empty glass to take a sip, “But really, a relationship right now is a no-can-do for me. I’d hate to waste yer time after you’ve been so kind t’me honey.”

“Not a single moment with you has been a waste’ve time, believe me [+].” It was gentle but stern, your fingers brushed over the table which made your heart race faster.

John was too sweet, sinkingly so. It made you question how his marriages didn’t work sometimes but you kept your mouth shut about it. You gave him a smile, “I wouldn’t mind bein fuck buddies though.”

His thick eyebrows furrowed together, “Oh John come on now, you ain’t that old!”

Friends who fucked, he knew what it was. But with you? Someone that he’d grown to care for? This was a line he preferred not to cross.

But damn, those brown eyes under the dim light, the mid length blow out that went just below your shoulders, your long sleeve flared blouse that showed off your cleavage just right, wasn’t helping. He hadn’t even realized he’d given you a ‘sounds good to me’ before you gave him an okay and went on to another topic as if you two hadn’t just agreeded to be sex partners.

The night came to a close around 10:50, John didn’t want you at the station by yourself late at night since you were a woman so he took you home.

“I’m a grown woman, John.” You insisted for the thousandth time.

“Yer a grown woman that ‘m drivin home. Exactly. Yer right.” John nodded along with you nonchalantly and you groaned into a giggling fit, no longer being able to fight with him over this.

You pulled up to your apartment and pointed out a parking spot, John followed suit. Thinking you’d probably rather get out of a parked car than hold up traffic on a Friday night.

You got out the car, looking between your apartment building and the older man.

“You wanna come up?”

John fucking Price was a god damn problem.

The first time you two fucked, was just to dip your toes in. See if the older man could handle you, keep up with what you were up to.

The second time was for good measure. You had to make sure it wasn’t an illusion! Get your bearings in order.

The third time— looking back you should’ve known that’s when he caught you. And I mean really had you for good because you’d be damned if he was fucking some other girl the way he was fucking you.

You had to have a cordial briefing with your friend group, explaining to them how you were now a born again Christian because John didn’t just have you seeing stars. No— you saw Jesus resurrecting from the tomb, legs shaking as they were wrapped around his hips. Chest to chest, as John knelt on the bed, fucking up into you through your orgasm. You’d pushed yourself away from him but he snatched you up just before you passed out.

“Stay with me lovie, can’t have you passin out on me can I?” His pink lips connected with your neck again. Your entire body was trembling. This fool, this barbarian, loooved making you a dummy on his dick. You’d learned that the second time. But this time, fuck, it was strange.

“Strange, baby, it feels- mmph s-strange.” You mumbled through a moan, you were limp as he held onto your waist with one arm, bouncing you just the way he needed you to. He was practically using you as a sex toy and you hadn’t minded. You were drooling on his shoulder and down your own face and that freak kept lapping it up. Opening your mouth so he could spit it back in you and suck on your tongue.

“Your tight little cunt squeezing me so good. You love when I suck your tongue, don’t you pretty?”

Your eyes were rolling into each other again, “loooove it sooooo much Daddy.”

“Come on, kiss me while I give it to you.” He didn’t have to tell you twice to get your lips to latch onto his. John kissed so romantic like, slow, desperate— like he was trying to mold the two of you together and you loved it. John’s thrusts got fast, barley pulling out with every swing of his hips up into your tight walls. But he kept hitting your g-spot, clit rubbing right at the bottom of his hairy abdomen. It felt amazing— too amazing—

You yankied yourself away from him again, “wait! ‘M serious- J- fuuuck- John! It’s too weird! I’m- shit- ‘m gonna pee!”

“ ‘S not pee, let it go.” He gruffed, groaning at how good you felt around his swelling cock.

“It isssss!” You whined out, slapping at his arms but he wouldn’t let up.

“Come on sweet girl, squirt all over me. Wanna be covered in you.”

And the crash came, water works flying every which way and your eyes. John came right after you, babbling about how good you were, how amazing you felt around him. But you were crying real tears now, you swore you just peed all over this older man’s thighs even though you told him it was weird. It was humiliating.

“I told you I was gonna pee, ‘nd you didn’t listen!” You hiccuped, covering your face as John laid you back on the bed. He’s eyebrow lifted as he slipped out of you, removing the filled condom and examining the situation that was now on his pudgy stomach, his thighs, your legs and the bed.

“Sweetie,” he started chuckling at how cute were being, you shoved one of your wobbly legs at his chest. It didn’t do any damage. “Have you never squirted before?”

“No,” you sniffled, “ ‘s just pee!”

“ ‘S not the same thing lovie.”

“Yes it issss!” You retorted, going to kick him again but your own leg giving up on you.

John rubbing your thighs as he got inbetween them. Your pussy was glistening in the rooms light, too mesmerized, he let the pads of two fingers take a swipe of all the juices that sat on your vulva and putting it in his mouth. He moaned at the taste.

You gasped, “John!” You hadn’t meant to see the sight through your fingers but shit, it was making you even more wet. The older saw you squirm, shaking his head, he needed a front row seat this time. He lifted your thighs over his shoulders so his mouth was right in front of your cunt.

“Gotta feel it on my tongue baby, won’t you? Please?”

You two went on like that, calling each other whenever you needed. You were always the first to know when the Captain got home, before his own family, because he’d have his fat cock in you by the time you could finish saying ‘welcome back.’

John couldn’t lie and say it was inconvenient getting to let off steam other than exercising or taking a swing of bourbon. It didn’t help that you were actually such a sweet girl, he loved being around. You two would hang out when you had the chance, going out and about or just watching a movie at home. When you were out, all dolled up in a mid thigh, navy blue sun dress and white heels showed off your heels, curls in a high ponytail— you two looked like a sugar daddy and a sugar baby. But you never cared about the looks people gave you, you’d grab his larger hand in yours that was freshly manicured with long soft yellow nails and swing your hands back and forth. Even taking the time to properly introduce the man properly when you ran into your friends on the street.

“He’s a real carin, smart and just all around incredible guy I swear,” Your eyes would beam at him, so longingly then back to your friends and back to John because you always found yourself getting lost in his pretty ocean blue eyes. “I’m real thankful to have met a man like him.”

How could he have not fallin for you?

It was when you and John accidentally ran into his parents while casually hanging out in his home town he knew he just had to marry you.

You were as charismatic as ever, your southern charm easily pulling them in. John thought for sure they’d be more careful since you were younger than the past two women that John brought to meet them. But despite how eccentric you looked in your shorts that hung off your hips, waist beads around your stomach, crop top and the tattoos that his parents generation definitely weren’t used to, layered necklaces and bracelets— they easily fell for you just like he did.

“You sure ‘bout takin them out for lunch, [+]? You don’t have to.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling out of the parking spot and onto the road.

“It’s only right to treat the folks who raised you John. They’ve done well with you, ‘nd ‘m sure your siblings ‘re just as kind. Plus I kinda wanna see more of your smile through your mom. It’s sooo fuckin cute.”

Yup.

That was right there confirmed, he was gonna put a ring on that fuckin finger. He could’ve blurted it out while at that quaint little lunch you had. His parents adored you, even got your number down to give you a call if you needed anything while you were still in the UK.

The man was gonna get you to stay in the UK.

The first time he’d asked, it was too fucking casual. Again, the man was always too eager. Tripping and falling through love was a bad habit of his. You’d laughed in his face.

“John, baby, please be serious.” You threw your braids up in a ponytail, tip toeing around the room to get your clothes. John did that on purpose, the old man always wanted a little more time with you, to see the sunrise kissing your skin perfectly as that after glow of sex looked gorgeous on you.

He’d pout under that thick beard, fuckin precious bear, “ ‘M bein serious. Want us t’get married, be happy.”

“Don’t you leave next week John?”

“So?”

You deadpanned, “John.”

Okay, he was too eager that time. He should’ve thought it though. Right, you deserved proper proposal planning. Not some random after sex question. You made your way over to that big guy, he was still naked, sitting on the bed with his feet on the floor. You bent over, that same gleam in your brown eyes that shown every time you looked at him. He could’ve fuckin melted right then and there as you placed your hands on his knees, leaving a long a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips.

“You call me if ya need anything John. I mean it, even if it’s those fuckin cookies-“

“—Biscuits—“

“—Whateverrr~” you giggled, lightly touching his beard as John took your waist in his hands. Shit, he’d miss you. Miss your kindness, your willingness to drop everything for him, those long lashes that fluttered when you woke up. “I’ll send ‘em yer way, letter ‘f course too. Whatever ya need, John, you let me know.”

With the softest kiss on the lips, you were on your merry way just as you usually were.

The second time John proposed, he did it right.

He had a proper ring. Simple, because you loved simple. The box was in his pants pocket the entire night, itching to get out. You went to a nice fancy dinner to a place you swore you’d only told him once about, took you for a nice stroll, your curls in a half up, half down, dress hugging you just right and John was in a dressy casual. Ultra simple, classic. He was sure he’d get a yes this time.

He hadn’t even gotten the chance to get on he knee before you’d grab his hands. Your bottom lip trembling.

“Sweetheart…”

“Need you tuh listen t’me baby, please.” You pleaded, tears already threatening to burst out like a dam.

“Now I care ‘boutcha so much John. So much that I hate myself fer puttin you in a situation like this.” You sniffled, squeezing his hand to reassure him.

“But ya can’t marry me.” John lamented.

“John—“

“—what is it then? Is it the age gap? I thought you’d gotten over it.”

“John-“ “-clothes? I’ll give it to you. Want me to shave? Done. Love? I’ve got multitudes. If it’s money- it’s yours.” He was racking his brain for something, anything that could’ve draw you to keep him near. 

“I don’t want your money John.” You cursed.

“Then what do you want?! Why can’t I give it to you?!”

“I want your happiness above all else John! But I can’t-“ your voice croaked. You let go of his hands, “I can’t give that back to ya. I know I can’t.”

“Tha’s a fuckin lie—“

“—I’m sorry John. Truly.”

Without another word, you’d ran off. Your heals clicking against the pavement, cries heard through the silent park.

You’d known John for a year but technically only about 5 months since he was away for the other seven. But you knew so much about him, he’d send letters whenever he could, call, text and be right with you when he was back because it ‘felt like the place he needed to be’. It wasn’t a shock that John had grown to love you, it was a shock that you’d grown to love him too.

It scared the living shit out of you.

So you did what you always did.

Move.

It never took you long, you always had a storage unit ready, a few cardboard boxes in the back of your closet, a new job to hire you in another country because you always knew a little bit of the language. But this time you didn’t move far enough, you didn’t have to heart to. If John were to call you right now, you would’ve dropped what you were doing and ran to him.

Which is why you blocked him on everything (even though he didn’t use social media that often).

You moved yourself to the countryside, in a much smaller apartment but in a much quieter town by the sea. You were working the front of a fish market, did you know about fish? No. Did they hire you because you were pretty and your endless list of credentials at other random places on your resume? Yes. You didn’t have a problem with blending right in, building peoples trust with ease.

It was a good and bad habit.

John on the other hand was loosing his mind because he didn’t know where the hell you were. He couldn’t call you, couldn’t text you, and you weren’t replying to his letters. Fuck, the man called his parents and they managed to get an answer but only vague answers.

He’d come to you flat after being away, rushing through (but properly taken care of) a mission because he needed to make sure you were alright. As he rung thr buzzer, he got no answer. He was lucky one of your neighbors came out and told him what had happened.

How could you have moved without telling him, of all people?

It hurt him more than anything to have a mishap like that happen and then not be able to contact you. But to move? With no explanation?

He could play cat and mouse.

He’d play it constantly in the 141, taking down terrorists and the like in less than a couple weeks— you’d be an easy find. He was sure of it.

He’d found you soon enough, a couple days, in that god damn fish market, a wide smile on your face as you talked to the multiple people who crowded the stall where you worked. Why were you working here of all places?

He ignored the growing concerns, joining the line of customers at the stall. Most of the customers having something to say to you and you encouraging more conversation as they made their orders and paid. Then it was his turn. He took a step forward and you looked up at him like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart dropped out of your ass. He looked to the fish that sat on display on ice, then to you and titled his head.

“When do you get off?”

“John-“

“-When.” The older man spoke tightly. It came out more like a statement than a question.

The lady who worked with you, Malissa, chimed in with a knowing smile, “Give ‘er an hour.”

Your eyes widened at the older woman whilst John gave her a pleased look, “I’ll be around.” John left the building and you felt your stomach turn over. You glared at Malissa and she laughed at you, “But it’s love, isn’t it [+]?”

Was it that obvious?

Couldn’t have been. As if the blush showed on your brown cheeks. You gave him the same smile you did everyone else, didn’t you? The same kindness, same glances you snuck, soft touches, and the same brushing of fingers. The way you held onto that man’s arm as you presented him to your friends like a trophy, you did the same to anyone else you admired, right? Right?

No fucking way you did. John was the one, well, situation you fully committed to head first. And you didn’t even know when that happened, you liked the thought of someone romantically caring for you, the kindness and joy that was always a package deal when being in that guys presence. Someone that took you and your hopes and dreams serious for once in your life.

Oh God, you were in deep love with John Price.

You could’ve been thrown across the field by your own heart pounding so loud when you walked out of the market. John sitting on the bench, cigar between his fingers, watching the passersbyers and then at you. He stood, nodding for you to follow him in some direction.

“Let’s take a walk.”

The tension was too damn high. You could feel it through the air as you too walked, the only sound being made was the sound of you feet on pavement, the jingle of keys, the sea in the distance. Your curls were probably a mess now, the cold air blowing every which way.

“How’ve you been?” You tried cutting through the ice, eyes finding anything else to look at.

John paused for a moment, a sigh coming out, “I didn’t think you hated me enough to block me [+].”

You winced, as if it pained you to hear those words alone. “I could never hate you John.”

“Then why-“ another frustrated sigh, “You switched jobs to avoid me!”

You squinted your eyes, “Why would you wanna see me after that John!? There was nothing more to say. I was trying to make your life easier!”

“And why would life be easier without you?” His eyebrows furrowed, hand on his hip. He kept rubbing his face.

You opened your mouth to say something, try to get out of the mess you made but nothing would come out. John wanted to laugh at this but it’s not like it would be genuine. Scoffing, he flicked the end of the cigar to the ground. You were like a Hurricane, create a mess to keep people away but right at the center, there was a serene calm. Only soft winds. You didn’t know what you were doing with yourself. John, saw that.

“I’ll take you home.”

“I can walk from here though.”

John gently took your hand in his, looking down at you with sincerity in his blue eyes. “You know how I feel about you bein alone like this. Let me take you home.”

It didn’t take much convincing, it was just a short 5 minute drive from the hills you stood now to your flat. John opened the door to the car for you, making sure you were safely tucked in before slamming it shut and getting in the drivers side. He drove off, down to the main road but then passed the street you had pointed out.

“Where we going?”

“Home.”

“But my place is-“

“—[+], please.” His jaw was clenched, gripping the wheel and your thigh. “You hate it so much, you yell to the rooftops that ya hate me. Despise every breath I breathe. I’ll stop right now.”

Like you would. You huffed, crossing your arms and looking out the window.

John didn’t get irritated easy. Patience was a vertue, that’s what his parents told him all the time. After two marriages you’d think the man would’ve learned by now.

But the man was starving for you, aching to have you say you were his and he was yours after all this and you still not knowing what you wanted— he’d make the decision for you.

You would be his wife and you two were getting married.

The thought of John being mean hadn’t crossed your mind once.

John Price who was usually so gentle, tapping your thigh so you could move yourself in whatever position he wanted you in, grabbing pillows so it would be easier on you, always checking if you were alright every take you reached you high.

That was not the John you were dealing with right now. He was manhandling however he wanted, both hands on your ass cheeks, legs over his arms, slamming you up and down on his cock and letting you cum over and over. Till he had enough of you in that position and fucked you right on the floor, your back getting carpet burn in front of the bedroom door that you didn’t get the chance to close.

And fuck, you thought it was heavenly before, him raw was otherworldly. You felt every ridge, every vein, every twist of his throbbing manhood, every once of precum that made your walls even wetter than they already were.

“Gonna fill you up-“

“—John- mmm- you can’t-“

He grunted, swatting your hands that tried to push him away.

“Gonna fill ya up like a good husband should,” the man’s nodding at his own words, already pussy drunk. But he was speaking words that he’s held back for months. “gotta getcha ready for when we have a baby.”

You hiccuped, John was talking crazy. A baby? A marriage? With John? And he’s whispering it all in your ear. This was tooooo much— too full—

“John i-it’s too deep! I- shit- gimmie a second—“

He pouted, fucking pouted, as if he didn’t know he was pushing his fat, veiny, cock to the fucking hilt of you. Your ankles somehow at the back of your head, “Can’t ya see it baby? You, waddlin around with our baby inside you-“ John hissed, you just kept clenching around him perfectly everytime he thrusted into his “-In a new house- haaah— after we broken it in ‘f course. Gotta break it in for good- fuckin- measure. Little ones running around, an office for daddy ‘nd a office for mummy— It’ll be perfect.”

You didn’t even realize you were cumming, your ears were just ringing, cunt contracting around Johns dick like you were aching for it.

You’d never in your life had a man cum inside you, but my God. John, this old barbarian, was gonna get you addicted to each and every single shot of cum that came from his leaking tip that reached inside your deepest place.

“Fuck, gotta give you another baby.”

John was determined to fuck you into delerium, you’d pass out after cumming so much and wake up to John sucking his cum out of you. Water breaks? The older man is sipping it and putting it in your mouth. Felt stuffy in the bedroom? No problem, John’s moving you to the bathroom to fuck you there with your leg propped up on the bath tub, the wall in the hallway looked like it was missing your face being pressed into it as John drilled you from behind.

Hungry? John’s feeding you whatever he cooked up the thirty minutes he’d left your bruised pussy alone, and then having you cock warm him in the fucking kitchen. All while kissing all over you, how you were such a pretty wife on his dick.

“We gonna get married John?” You slurred out, sticking your thumb in his mouth then sticking it in yours and moaning at the taste. Sweet.

You were fucked out, if the man said he was gonna max out your cards right now he could’ve. But you were, in fact, his finance. Right then and there, no one could convince you otherwise.

“S-Say that again sweetheart?”

You gripped the back of his neck your your hand, getting him to look at you head on, pecking his lips once. Twice. Three times, “You said you’d make me your wife, you’d really do that John? Make me a wife? Won’t get tired of me?”

“Oh birdie, h-how could I ever get tired of you? I-I’m in love you you.”

“Really? I love- I love yooouu John.” Your hips practically rolled on their own, the captain throwing his head back against the headboard for dear life.

“Fuck mee lovie— whatever you want, whateverrr you fucking want.” His hands found your hips, guiding you just the way you needed to get off. Slow, mean— loving.

“G-god, so amazin, amazin John! Wan’ a chapel wedding -ngghh- You, me, some rings and that fuckin preist,”

“ ‘F course baby, course.” John was stammering out words, he could barley keep up now. Fuck, rings. Those fucking rings— “wait baby, gimmie a second.”

“But John,” you keened, hating the idea of being apart for even a millisecond. Oh you’d be the death of that old man. And he wouldn’t’ve minded dying in your sopping cunt knowing you wanted to marry him.

He’d marry you from hell if he had to.

He reached out to the nightstand, an arm hooked around your waist to keep you close as you sloppily rode him, fumbling to grab the black box he placed there yesterday.

Some how he managed to get that box open, two golden rings sat inside. He grabbed yours, tossing the box to the side and slipping the ring on the proper finger.

“Oh! It’s sooo pretty John!” You moaned, eyes stuck to the ring, heart eyes practically forming in your pupils as you looked at the man who was balls deep inside you.

“Come on wife, you know how to cum for your future husband don’t you?”

“You keep looking at it.”

“ ‘S just so nice John.”

It was a single gold ring that fit your finger perfectly, the matching one that you asked to put on John once woke you up. You two were completely knocked out after two days of going at it like animals. You couldn’t feel your legs and your voice was an inch off from being shot. But you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. You loved being engaged, you loved John, and you loved the thought of a future with him.

“You wanna have a small wedding, don’t you?” John entangled your fingers together, his other hand caressing your thighs. The sunshine was shining through the window of the dim room.

“I’d prefer if it was just you ‘nd me. We can do somethin with your family later. I-I think it’ll be real intimate ‘f it’s just us. Like the movies-“

The older man’s eyes crinkled, “Oh, so you’ve thought about it?”

You scuffed, “I’d be silly not to think about marryin you at least once, John.”

Price opened his mouth, feeling more than shy at his grown age. He stuttered, “No take backs, alright? You gotta marry me now.”

You hooked your ring finger with his John’s matching one, giving it a quick kiss.

“No take backs.”

a/n: it’ll be a miracle if anyone even reads all this. if you did, leave me a message or comment if you liked it or if you hated it pls I wanna hear your thoughts.

dilf old man!john price accidentally turns off his cigar by pressing it against the palm of that prick who claims to have accidentally brushed his hand against your butt by mistake, but ‘didn’t mean to’.

you squeal like a startled bunny when you feel something against your skirt, and turn around with doe, worried eyes — a pair of hands shoot upwards, and you’re met with the not so earnest apologetic expression of a guy you don’t know, who blurts a “sorry, miss, didn’t meant to, bumped into you by accident”

you quickly shake your head, giving him a polite smile, kind, well mannered. too kind for your own good, never wanting to cause trouble “it’s alright, don’t worry”

but john sees and knows everything concerning you, he’s attentive of your surroundings, needs to be always on alert for his sweet, little bunny girl. and he knows that prick didn’t touch you by mistake.

the moment you turn around and shift away, busy sipping on your strawberry matcha like the epitome of innocence, john moves to stand behind that guy.

his hiss of pain falls on deaf ears when john brushes next to him, almost as imperceptible as the slight flick of john’s wrist, imprinting a cigar burn into that guy’s hand. he instantly withdraws his hand, blurting out thick curses as gray ash burns around a red mark on his skin.

“careful where you put your hands,” john’s voice sounds deep, rough in a lethal way, menacing and rough. he barely leans towards the guy’s ear, standing tall and intimidating, the double entendre of his words clear. if he’s not careful he might get more than a simple cigar burn.

getting stood up -or ditched- by ur stupid boyfriend and desperate for a way home cause a lil bunny can’t walk home alone at night so as a last resort, you call dads bsf price, who is more than happy to pick up his best friends little girl xx and he can’t drop her off without showing her what a real man is

ps: i absolutely adore your writing x keep it up bby

a defeated little sigh slips from your glossed lips as you stare at the text message, received fifty minutes after you’d sent the first one.

“i don’t think i’ll be able to make it tonight, i forgot about it and now i am busy, sorry!”

you weren’t sad he couldn’t make it, of course, you would’ve appreciated it if he’d at least warned you about his little slip of memory, but if anything, that little mistake only sealed your mind even more — it’s not like you were a couple, you’d only been on a date once, and this was supposed to be the second one. clearly, he wasn’t interested, and you weren’t either, but you’d been left alone waiting for him for more than a hour, like an abandoned little bunny. you didn’t deserve this, you deserved a princess treatment.

nibbling on your bottom lip, you stood outside the building, the night breeze cold against your bare thighs as you considered your options — you couldn’t possibly call your father, he’d be livid with both the guy for leaving you alone at night, and you for ending up in this reckless situation. also, you didn’t want to make him worry too much.

so, your baby pink nails clipped against the screen as you recklessly quickly typed the number of the only person you trusted the most, the only one you could think about that could come and save you. only tree ringings passed by, before you heard his deep, gruff and rough voice from the other side of the phone.

“hello?”

your heartbeat immediately increased, effected by his low tone, beating faster and nervously. he sounded rougher, huskier.

“sir?” you tried to swallow down your heart, poor thing trying to flutter outside of your chest — your cheeks were painted red, covered by a warm and bright blush.

“doll?” you caught the slight urgency in his voice, though it sounded controlled and steady as always. a few seconds of silence passed after his reply, and you imagined him glancing down at his wrist watch, before muttering out “what’s wrong?”

“i’m fine, im really sorry to bother you at this hour—“

“you never bother me, sweetheart. what happened?”

you hesitated, looking down towards your mary jane white heels “can you please come pick me up? im alone and i didn’t wanna call my father cause he’d get angry, pretty please?”

you bit your lip, torn between relief and regret for deciding to call him without even thinking twice. maybe he’d been sleeping, tired after work—?

“where are you, princess?”

“outside of a restaurant, i’ll text you the address, okay?”

the sudden rustling of fabric and the light jingle of keys echoed from the phone, and you could picture him standing up, his broad, muscular body walking towards his door “wait for me, doll, be there in a few”

less than ten minutes went by when you recognized his old fashioned car, driving up to a halt right in front of your place on the sidewalk. you mentally prayed and thanked God for sending you your personal knight, the rumble of the car’s engine the only sound around the otherwise peaceful and too silent air.

you quickly opened the passenger’s door and got inside of the car, immediately filled with the familiar scent of cigars, tobacco and expensive cologne that swirled around you.

“thank you for coming, sir,” you were nervous, you felt embarrassed, and he could see that, under the dim light surrounding the car, his sharp and intense eyes never left you, taking in the way your fingers fidgeted together, hands resting on your lap like a squirming bunny that couldn’t handle being too close to him.

even in the dark your blushing cheeks were so bright, he could see them, red and flushed — with one large hand gripping the steering wheel, he leisurely admired your short dress, before starting the engine and driving away.

“who do i have to kill, mmh?”

you almost gave out a smile, but only shook your head at him. “no one, sir, im okay”

“date stood you up, bunny?”

you loved his nickname for you. it made you blush and heart flutter.

there was no point in telling him a white lie. with a soft sigh, you leaned your head back on the seat. “it wasn’t a date..he’s not even my boyfriend. we’ve gone out once and today we were supposed to have dinner together. but he clearly wasn’t interested since he texted me that he’d forgotten and was apparently too busy to tell me instead of ditching me and leaving me all alone”

john kept driving, and you dared a shy glance towards him. he always radiated confidence and strong masculinity — he was so handsome, so respectful and manly, the manliest man that existed. he was a real man, the one you truly wanted, and no one could ever take his place in your heart, your poor heart was aware of that. a little, sweet and too young girl falling for a man too old for you, old enough to be your father.

only then, a glimpse of an amused lazy grin appeared beneath his thick, dark beard, littered with gray on the right spots. he shook his head once, focused on the road, “stupid kid, he was. he’s merely a boy, love, boys his age don’t know shit about how to treat a sweet bunny like you, sweetheart. dumb dog”

you blushed more at his words, clenching your bare knees until they touched, your thighs exposed and filled with goosebumps provoked by the chill night air and his deep voice.

“doesn’t matter, it can happen. im not sad or anything, just…it feels mortifying. he could’ve at least texted me, you know? could’ve just told me he didn’t want to go out anymore. makes me feel like im insignificant. that’s why i’ve never liked guys my age.”

you couldn’t even stop that last line from slipping out of your glossed lips, at that point, you’d just been rumbling to him. he remained quiet, listening to you as he drove, and you recognized the familiar ice cream place, the trees and local church that were close to your neighborhood.

“bunny, that kid was an asshole, ‘s not your fault. an angel like you deserves a real man who knows what he wants and what you want. not some idiot” he punctuated the last word with a gruff chuckle, the sound vibrating around the tiny space between you. “don’t waste time with people like him. could pay him a visit, if you want”

“please don’t sir” you quickly said, your lips already curving in an entertained smile, “we’re never gonna see each other anymore, anyway”

“made my bunny stay outside all alone at night, could send him to jail. gonna make him be real busy behind bars,” you knew he was being playful just to make you smile, but his voice sounded even lower, deep and rough, with a hint of threatening to it. “why didn’t you call your dad?”

you hesitated, blinking at him from under your long lashes, puppy dog eyes shy and timid as you shrugged “he would’ve gotten man at him for leaving me alone and at me for ending up in this situation, always finds a way to blame the victim.”

you saw him shifting gear, and without even realizing it, you were already on your main street. tilting your head towards the darkened mirror, you recognized your front porch, standing in the dark with no lights on. your dad must’ve been asleep, or maybe was waiting for you to come back in his room. but from the windows, you saw that all the lights were off.

“im glad i called you, sir, thank you for coming and helping me. i really don’t know how to thank you” you turned towards him again, giving him another smile.

“was a pleasure, bunny, no need to pay me back. just seeing you in this short dress is enough.” he turned off his car, smirking lazily at you with a look that made you shiver and turn into flames, flushing red and warm. you wanted him so bad, you felt bad for how much you wanted him.

you swallowed, fluttering your lashes at him, grabbing your purse and pushing your heels down, as if reminding yourself that you had to say goodbye and go. “w-well, then, thank you again, sir,” blushing like shooting stars, like the bright rays of the sun, you leaned closer to him, wanting to give him a goodbye kiss on the cheek.

as soon as you leaned over, you felt his hands grab your waist, tugging you by your hips and pushing you against his lap. you almost squeaked, and your lips found his mouth, instead of his cheek. he waisted no time throwing your legs on his sides, making you sink against him, practically straddling him. the sudden contact made you press your mouth more firmly against his, muffling a little sound as a rush of warmth spread between your legs.

he trailed his hand over your neck, until it tangled in your long hair and grabbed a fistful of it to tilt your face against his. he kissed you hard, almost violently, like a starving, animalistic man. you whined against him, throwing your hands around his neck, the pain in your scalp from how much he was pulling your head mingling with pleasure.

you parted your lips slightly as he pushed his tongue inside of your mouth, licking every free inch until it pressed against yours. his free hand trailed under the hem of your sundress making you whimper and cling closer to him. you felt the cold metal of his rings against your bare thigh as he gripped your flesh, brushing his hand up and down until it reaches the hem of your panties.

you skipped a breath, tilting your head to give him more access as he devoured your lips, crashing against them in a feverish kiss full of bites, tongue and teeth.

“sir, sir—“ your words were muffled by the kisses, but you didn’t want to stop, you only wanted him, to feel him and to be with him.

he parted only for a second, looking down at you with a hungry, dark gaze “shhh, shhh doll, don’t wan’ anyone to wake up, huh bunny?”

he grabbed your chin, pressing his mouth heavy against yours. “you know how hard it is to see you going out like this, how badly daddy wants to have you all to himself, mh?

your breath grew heavier, and you could only nod at him, breathlessly, doe eyes glimmering, big and innocent and so needy.

“look at you…so fucking innocent, such a good girl, no one deserves you, angel. gonna be the death of me, looking at me so innocently, when I know how much you want daddy to have his way with you, don’t you, bunny? a needy bunny on my lap, fuck,”

you nodded again, whining and hiding your head against his neck when his hand lowered between your legs, tracing your inner thigh with a steady movement, like he wanted to savor it, take his time, but couldn’t wait any longer. “yes sir, wan’— wanna be with you, I—“

“know you do, bunny, i know sweet thing. only this old man knows how to treat you like the princess that you are, made of sugar. shit, having to talk to your dad when you’re around, acting like i don’t wanna throw his little girl over my shoulder and have my way with her, having to hold myself back. you on your little skirts that make me go mad, your fucking ribbons…”

you bit your lip and shuddered against him, blushing shyly at his words, that made your heartbeat quicken, go faster. he always treated you so well, like he was your bodyguard, like you were his little princess. a little helpless mewl left your lips, as you sought for his lips again, pressing another kiss on his mouth, that he quickly deepened — the kiss filled the car with lewd sounds, his tongue heavy and wet against yours, but you wanted more.

“please sir, please, anything,” you whimpered, and he cooed at you, letting out another deep chuckle that vibrated against your chest. your lips were puffy and red from his mustache and salt and pepper beard that scratched your skin.

”what do you want, doll? mmh? come on love, use your words, know you can.”

you were too shy to ask him or to address what you wanted, hoped the way you fluttered your lashes innocently could speak for you. “just you, daddy..and, and…”

he softened his hungry gaze when you trailed off, and caressed your thigh. “daddy can’t give you that now, love. you deserve more than a stolen moment in the midst of chaos. and definitely not here” with a gentle tug, he brought your hand to his lips, pressing soft kisses on your knuckles. “wanna get off on daddy’s thigh? like a good bunny? mmh?”

you nodded again, shyly yet eagerly this time. lifting the skirt of your sundress to shift your position, he sat you on his thigh, coming in contact with the denim of his jeans, and you shivered when you felt the muscle of his leg against your clothed clit. john leaned back, playfully patting your lower back.

“alright bunny, hands on my shoulders, like this; good girl. now, just move your hips, back and forth, like this— yeah. good girl, like this, fuck, can feel you, see? ‘s not hard, angel” his hands were heavy and secure on your waist, steadying your movements as he guided your hips to buck against his thigh.

you were new to the sensation, didn’t know how to move, but the friction made you whine slowly, almost inaudibly. not to his ears.

“feels good, bunny?”

“mmmhh” you nodded, rolling your hips against his thigh, searching more of that strange feeling. you lowered your head, your cheeks growing red, a bright blush that he could almost taste on his own lips. you were shy, inexperienced, a virgin, and john was the only one who could teach you everything you needed to learn.

“that’s it baby, make yourself feel good. take your time,”

“don’t know how—“ you whined, desperate for his help. his hands ached on your waist, wanting to hold you, to undress you, to grasp every inch of your soft skin with his rough hands. and it was torture, seeing you like that, whining and needy for your daddy’s help, having to physically stop himself from touching you freely :(

“you’re doing so well f’me, bunny, good girl, find out how you like it, yeah, sweetheart, you should see yourself right now. pure sunshine,” he squeezed your hips and you yelped, letting out a soft whimper, your thighs clenching against his, as you tried to steady your movements, your clit brushing against the denim and making your panties grow damp.

the familiar sound of your ringtone startled you, and you almost screamed when it echoed through the dark space of the car. you stopped your movements, catching your breath. blinking as if you’d just woken up from a dream, you crouched yourself towards the passenger seat and hastily grabbed your phone, taking it out of your pink purse.

dad. his name sparkled on the screen, and you felt john physically tense against you, the muscle of his jaw thickening when he saw his name. begrudgingly, you picked up, holding your phone against your ear with a loud heart thundering in your chest.

“dad?” you tried to breath normally, your cheeks felt burning hot, and your voice was shaky. “im…im almost home, yes, it went…”

you dared a shy look at John, whose jaw was clenched, and whose hand still hadn’t gotten off your bare thigh. “I’ll tell you tomorrow, I have the keys, yes. You can go to sleep, im fine”

when he hung up, you loudly swallowed. you couldn’t believe what you’d been doing. straddling your dad’s best friend’s thigh, in his car. there was no way you could look at him in the eyes after that. your face blushed like it was on fire, and your eyes looked down at your ruffled skirt,

“I—I— thank you, sir Price, I’ll be going now—“ you stammered, your heart pounding like it never had before. you tried to reach out for your purse, but john quickly grabbed you by your chin, keeping your face in front of his — his think fingers sprawled over your jaw, and his voice was almost animalistic, a bare growl when he spoke against your lips. he was pissed, he felt like a dog who’d just been teased with a bone, just to have it taken away from him right before his eyes.

“when i do finally get my hands on you, doll, nothing and no one will take you from me, understand?”

you nodded, breathless.

“understand, doll?” he repeated, again, making you flinch with pleasure.

“yessir”

“good girl,” he rasped the word against your lips, before pressing a soft kiss on them. “now, goodnight, bunny, hop back to your pen.”

…dbf!john that has to take care of her while her dads on a business trip?

you were enthusiastic at the idea of finally being able to spend some quiet time home all alone with no yelling from your dad, no loud voices, just peace. but evidently he had different plans for you.

“oh,” you stopped mid walk right in the middle of the stairs, a sudden rush of warmth spreading over your chest and cheeks at the sight of john in your living room, manspreading on the couch “what are you doing here sir?”

john raised both brows in amusement, you were his favorite sight, so sweet and delicate, young and forbidden, “yer dad asked me to take care of y’a while he’s away, doll”

“but i don’t need it, i can be left alone,” you replied hesitantly, walking down the last stairs. your eagerness from earlier was now replaced with your signature shyness and bashfulness, just like every time you were around him — butterflies filled your stomach and you couldn’t even master coherent sentences or thoughts, you excelled in college but turned out a blubbering and stammering mess with this man.

“know you do, angel,” he said, his gruffness somehow softening when talking to you, “just doing my mate’s a favor”

maybe your dad didn’t know it, but he was doing you a favor by letting his best friend stay over. ”alright, sir,” you shrugged softly, and john’s pants almost stiffened—so obedient, so docile all the time. you were such a good girl.

“it’ll fell as if I’m not even home most of the time,” you blushed, feeling out of space in your own house, a squirming bunny underneath his attentive gaze, too warm and sharp to handle

“b’have as if i wasn’t even here, princess, just here to keep an eye on you if somethin’ happens.”

and oh, it felt so torturous, the forced proximity with the man of your dreams, the one out of your league, the only one you wanted. a real man, john was, so old and strong, buff and stern, giving you a sense of protection and control you longed for. you yearned for a sense of security and dominance that only john could give you. if you were the romance, he was the discipline.

dadsbf!john price was such a provider, a caregiver, he took care of everything in the house, made sure to turn on the stove for you when you wanted to make something, he didn’t let you touch any knives, made you breakfast in the morning, brought your fresh ice cream or strawberries when you were reading or studying in your room. but the tension between the two of you was tangible, it frizzled the air anytime you accidentally brushed your hands together or walked next each other — your father’s best friend, too much older than you, in his late 40s, and a sweet, little girl who was barely 21.

he tried so hard to be responsible, the be a military man, a seasoned captain who knew how to resist temptation. but you weren’t a temptation, because temptations could be bad — no, you were sugar, honey. sweet and tender at the touch, to taste, to feed off to. sweet for the soul and healthy for the body, as the bible would say.

but it was even harder for him, to restrain himself, knowing how much you wanted him, you looked at him with the most innocent eyes, batting your lashes at him like a lost puppy, a bunny that wanted to be picked up and cuddled, and thrown over his shoulder and taken care of by a rough, old man.

you always walked around the house in those tiny, mini skirts that hugged your ass, thigh highs that made him want to bite down on his fist, and that innocent bunny demeanor that made him loose his cool — bending over the kitchen counter when you made yourself some strawberry milk, giving him a perfect view of you bottom, or getting on your tip toes to reach for the highest shelves, softly calling him with a “sir? need your help please”

dadsbf!john price who had you sitting on his lap at night, on the couch, reading your lovely book, while he was watching tv, one of his usual movies about missions, shootings and undercover agents. you were all curled up against him, squirming and shifting position every once in a while — john was a patient man, but your cute butt kept pressing against his crotch when you moved, and he had to clench his jaw restrain himself from groaning.

“you uncomfortable, love?”

you only shook your head, lowering the book, revealing your flushed, red blushing face. “sorry sir, ‘s just a fuzzy feeling, it tickles” poor girl you didn’t know what was going on :( how to make this feeling in your belly stop.

“mmh? feel fuzzy, doll?”

and oh, he knew how to make you feel better. he gently grabbed both your hips with his large hands, positioning you between his spread legs, back pressed against his chest — you inhaled, your breath caught in your throat as you felt his rough, calloused hands parting your legs, spreading them for him.

dadsbf!john price who talked you through it, teaching you about everything you didn’t know about yourself, you’d never tried. his thick fingers pressed lazy circles around your clothed clit, his thick beard pressed against your cheek as he spoke with a deep, rough voice.

“this right here…if i touch you here, it’ll feel very good doll. can touch slowly, lightly to let the sensation linger, play with it,”

your breath was ragged, you were nervous, felt exposed, only your oversized cute shirt covering you, those unfamiliar sensations making your head dizzy. you looked down, whimpering when his middle finger and index traced circles over your clit, against your panties, but he quickly reassured you when you mewled, cooing at you and using his free hand to lift your chin.

“shh, shh, eyes up, doll, i’ve got you, princess, look at me,”

you did. he wanted to introduce you to the feeling first, slowly teaching you how to get used to these things. he pressed a kiss on the corner of you mouth, and you whined against him.

“..and if daddy rubs harder, fast, you’ll feel warm inside, on your belly, like this, on your petal,”

“oh- oh gosh—“ you squirmed, biting your bottom lip, a sudden wave of pleasure shot through your legs when, and you involuntarily attempted to close them, but he quickly moved his hand to part them, spreading them wider.

“I know love, I know, feels good little one, easy, easy now, wan’ daddy to stop?”

“nu-uh, please” you could only shake your head, too shy and caught up in the sensation, your cheeks were as red and warm as bright flames and ripe strawberries, blushing fiercely — it felt so good, yet you were so embarrassed you couldn’t even look at him.

“that’s it, bunny, spread them for daddy, good girl, could spend all week like this until your pa’ comes back,” his rich, gruff chuckle vibrated against your back, and you felt your tummy coil at his words — with a twist of his wrist, his hand disappeared underneath your cotton panties, and you flinched on his lap, squirming when his bare fingers started caressing your clit.

dadsbf!john price who taught you how to kiss, pushing his tongue against yours, licking off your lipgloss, chuckling when you needed to breath, before devouring your mouth again, starving, hungry — your arms around his neck like your life depended on it.

dadsbf!john price who would tuck you to bed and hand you your favorite plushie before going to sleep in your father’s empty room,

“can sleep with you if you dont wanna be alone, sir”

“oh doll, as much as i’d love you to, don’t think either of us will get any sleep if you get in bed with me, and that can’t happen, love,”

dadsbf!john price who made sure to not smoke around you, especially inside the house. he’d get to the back patio or front porch to indulge in one of his strong scented, thick cigars. a soft angel like you can’t fill her lungs with such venom.

dadsbf!john price who grinned smugly whenever your dad called him to know how you were doing. he pressed his phone against his ear, hiding his cocky grin underneath his thick beard and mustache.

“doing fine, pal. reads her books, takes her dog out, studies, goes to church. usual things.”

he didn’t tell him how you were kneeling in front of him on the couch, your knees pressed against a plush pillow to not hurt your legs, doe eyes looking at him expectingly, waiting for him to end the call to teach you how to make him feel good with your mouth — his free hand rubbed against your warm cheek, playing with your long hair.

and when he ended the call, he bucked his hips, manspreading, giving you a look that could be both tender and intense, sharp and commanding.

“what did he say, sir?”

“nothing much, princess. misses you,”

you smiled at that. you had daddy issues, didn’t matter how much your dad truly loved you, and he did, he was just incapable of showing it. he didn’t know how to. always moody, serious, yelling at any given moment. you needed a real old man that could love you and treat you like the most delicate and precious girl. you wanted john to do it.

john loved seeing you smile, he couldn’t tell you that he’d made it up, added that last part about the call, just to see you smile, even though your dad hadn’t actually said that.

john was alone, practically married to his job, literally, with much more experience with women you could ever imagine — until God pitied him and decided to send him a little expiatory angel, you.

“aight’, doll, wan’ daddy to show you how to take him with your mouth like a good girl?”

you nodded, hesitantly. your shyness and timidity always had the best of you. but he wanted to take his time with you, protect your sweet purity.

“use your words, love. speak up for daddy, come on”

you blushed and fidgeted with your hands, batting your lashes at him “yes sir,”

“good girl, angel. buttons.” single, short words, speaking with military authority.

you opened his pants with shaky hands, nervously. but he firmly cupped your chin, tilting your jaw up.

“no need to be scared, love, look at you…nervous, are you sweet?” he cooed condescendingly at you, making your bite your lip and nod, puppy eyes big and round.

“just open your mouth and be still. daddy’s gonna help you, if it gets too much for ya, tap my knee. copy that, bunny?”

“yes daddy, mkay” you gave him a little nod, almost shivering at the way his thumb brushed against your bottom lip.

“show daddy your tongue, that’s it. here it is, fuck, gonna be rough with ya, angel, could eat you up, love. good doll, now, zipper down.”

🍓| laaarge age gap, price is in his late 40s and fem virgin!reader is 21, kissing!

dads best friend john price! having you sitting on his lap while your father’s away, facing him, your legs around his sides as you look at him with the sweetest and shyest expression and red, blushing cheeks after you’ve asked him to ‘teach me how to kiss, please sir?’

john has been trying to remain resilient, to resist your pleads and clear feelings towards him, because you’re so, too young for him, he doesn’t deserve such a sweet, pretty girl, he’s an old, worn out and mean bastard — but, how could he deny those doe, sweet eyes of yours? so tender and kind, it almost kills him how badly he wants to steal you from your father and just have his way with you.

he’s a man of outmost control, after so many years of experience behind his back, the military has taught him to keep his composure and master patience and control — he’s trying to be a responsible adult, although he yearns to have his way with you in the harshest way possible.

so he just sighs, saying “just one kiss, doll”, and lifts his hand to hold your chin with his rough fingers, gripping your chin firmly and tilting your face upwards to push your glossed lips out “open.”

you do as he said, parting your lips slightly —when he bends his head to press his mouth on yours, you hold your breath, not knowing how to react. the kiss is slow at first, but it’s clear that he’s holding back, just moving his lips steadily and gently against yours, his thick beard scratching your warm cheeks. it tastes so good, the warm hint of smoke and a minty liquor. 

but then your hands grip his flannel tight, and he hears a little whimper from you that makes him groan lowly, the fabric of his jeans tightening around his growing bulge. you press yourself closer, wanting to feel more of him — and suddenly the kiss becomes rough, hungry, animalistic, his lips move fast and eagerly against your mouth, licking and kissing with an intensity that makes you hold onto him, your chests pressed together. his tongue pushes forcefully into your mouth, licking and pressing against your own as little whines bubble from your throat. 

john knew you didn’t need to learn how to kiss because you’d never kiss anyone that wasn’t him, and he’d only ever let you kiss him, “if a guy ever tries to do this to you, sweetheart,” he grumbles against your lips, tilting his head to gain more access, pecking your bottom lip and biting it with his own teeth, “you slap him and come to daddy, aight dollface?”

you nod against him, breathless and already panting, poor girl, this is your first kiss and you’re a blushing mess ;( he pulls back slightly and pinches your chin, sprawling his fingers over your jaw “open up for daddy, come on, stick out your tongue f’me, good girl, that’s it, sugar”

and he dives right back in, a feverish kiss full of biting, tongue and teeth, but just as you throw your arms around his neck and mumble a soft ‘’more…” and shift impossibly closer to his lap, he grunts against your lips, letting out a warning sound — he slows his pace down, kissing you slowly now “said just a kiss, angel,”

you whine, pressing an open mouthed kiss on his mustache, your glossy eyes full of need, “please sir, wan’ you daddy, pretty please…” gosh, if only you knew how much he wanted you. 

you’re making it so hard for him, he can’t corrupt your innocence. you recognize the look of restraint behind his eyes, and he just squeezes your hip with his free hand, holding your face close to his until your warm breaths mingle together “im too old for you, sweetheart, you shouldn’t want a old, broken man like me, you’re too young and sweet f’me, love” 

“please sir, i just wan you..” you whine timidly again, feeling the unfamiliar sensation of something hard pressing against your inner thighs, right above your clothed girlbud — your cheeks flame up, red and bright, blushing like the most beautiful flower and ripest fruit, and you pout like a puppy. 

“doll, don’t think for a second i dont want you, princess, but you deserve better, and if your father found out…” he mutters a short, fake chuckle, letting his hands roam freely all over your waist and lower back, the only think he allows himself to indulge into. he knows how much he wants to throw you over his shoulder and take you home with him. 

“you’re still mine anyway, little one, regardless of what we do or don’t do, be sure that you’re mine”

maybe he could only give you a little glimpse, only let you get off on his clothed thigh? teach you how to do it with him and him only?

how long will it take for him to finally give in and give you what you both want?

scary dog privilege with your old, gruff and scary sugar daddy!john price?

given you’re always a well mannered girl, you never cause conflicts, but if something were to happen with someone and you wanted to take advantage of your daddy being scary, old, intimidating and huge to just defend you?

maybe at the bar, a rude costumer not even lifting their eyes from the table as they ordered something else from you, without acknowledging your presence or saying hi, politely.

”another beer with ice,”

you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt, and tilted your head, speaking with your usual polite and sweet voice. “im sorry?” “another beer, at my table” same tone, same words, not even a smile.

clearly you hadn’t heard that wrong — your expression softened, and you lowered your notebook, looking like an upset bunny who’d just gotten offended,

you were always so sweet and kind with everyone, and john often tried to teach you that not everyone would always reciprocate your kindness, he wanted to warn you about mean, rude people who would upset his little girl :(

but you always got sad, not understanding why people couldn’t just be nice.

“no, sir, excuse me, i was waiting for you to say please, you could at least look at me you know..”

he frowned, narrowing his eyes like you’d said the most incoherent thing in the world, and gave you an ironic look “it’s your job to serve me a drink, dear”

you blinked your eyes, dumbfounded, hoping he’d understand what you were gently trying to say, keeping a low tone of voice “yes, and as a human being, your job is to be polite and kind? where are your manners?”

“little lady, what’s your problem? im paying you, you’re not giving me a gift, little girl”

“yet kindness is free,” you were undeterred, crossing your arms over your blouse and giving him an exasperated look, tilting your hip.

he shifted on his chair, crossing his legs together and throwing his arm behind the chair’s head. “let me speak with the manager, then”

“oh, you can speak directly to my boss, if you’d like” you shrugged, aware of how that situation would end up, and strolled down to john’s usual private table, walking calmly and quietly.

once in front of him, you leaned forward and pressed your hands flat against the wooden table’s surface, stretching your arms, wearing the most innocent and docile look “daddy,”

john turned his attention towards you, his half empty glass of whiskey trapped between his firm, thick fingers “there’s the love of my life, what is it, doll face?”

you leaned closer to him, tilting your head slightly, practically almost bending over his seat “a costumer wants to talk to you, he’s gonna complain about me because i wouldn’t serve him unless he asked politely,”

you blinked your dollish, doe eyes at him, so big and round and innocent they told him ‘take my defense and then fuck me, please’, a little pout making you push out your bottom lip.

”does he now…” john muttered under his breath, his warm eyes slowly taking in every inch of your figure, your lacy thigh highs and uniform skirt — he lifted is glass to let the liquid trail down his throat with a swift, fast seep, before setting it down “aight, doll, daddy’ll take care of it, princess, don’t worry”

he gripped the armrest of his chair, pushing himself up to a standing position, but you quickly reached for him and gently grabbed him by the sleeve

“he wasn’t mean, sir, he just didn’t want to say please and you know how much that upsets me..please don’t get angry at him” the way you furrowed your brows together was so adorable price had to physically restrain himself from just picking you up and throw you over his buff shoulders

but he gave you a little frown, lifting his hand to pinch your chin affectionately, grabbing it in between his forefinger and thumb “how many times have i told you you’re always too nice, love? people are gonna take advantage of that, doll”

you straightened your back, locking your hands together behind your back and lifted your chin, letting him squeeze your it again “but that’s why I have you to come rescue me, daddy…”

he let out a deep chuckle, briefly shaking his head before he let go of your chin with a last, little squeeze “these blokes can’t even let this poor old man rest in peace, how can someone be rude to such a sweet girl, they really like pissing me off huh? got the nerve to disrespect my girl”

and with that, he walked past you, towards the guy who’d just been too busy to ask you nicely, or say a simple ‘please’’ — but john had promised he’d never let anyone mistreat his polite girl’s manners, especially inside his own bar.

you just need reassurance from old sugar daddy!john price aaall the time — bunnies are territorial, especially a soft, young, little bunny girl like you… (laaaarge age gap, reader is 21 and price is in his late 40s)

“what the heck is a barracks bunny?”

the urgency behind your voice rung in john’s ears like an alert bell, like the one he’d always felt when he’d been a lieutenant — he hadn’t expected you to stomp in front him like that, phone in hand and frowning.

“what? who taught you this word, doll? was it Johnny-“

your sweet voice interrupted him, followed by your free hand, lifted upwards towards him in a dismissive manner, “no no, sir, pleaser, answer my question.”

he’d never seen you like this, hand adorably set on your hip, titled in the most delicate yet delicious way, doe eyes narrowed and slightly squinted, excepting an answer — your sweet, sweet bunny features clearly petty over something.

always so polite and obedient, so sweet and kind, what had gotten into you?

“is there one at the base, sir? I promise, if the answer is yes i-“

but you stumbled on your own words, because as soon as he caught the sparks of irritation in your voice, he stood up, straightening his muscular and broad shoulders — he looked down at you, his buff body that always picked you up so effortlessly slowly inched closer to you.

“you what, doll? mmh?” his voice sounded rougher, a hint of threatening warning behind it.

you flattered your lashes, tenderly, a silent, docile sign of submission in the midst of that moment,

“is there one, sir?” you repeated, your voice small but steady, tilting your head all the way up to meet his intense, sharp gaze.

“you already know the answer, princess, of course not. where did you even learn that from?”

”it doesn’t matter, sir, I-“ you replied dismissively, but his voice rumbled taking over your own, a low, gruff baritone that echoes deeply in your eardrums

“asked you a question, sweetheart. where.”

you swallowed, your eyelids trembling softly as you blinked up at him, shifting your position — when bunnies felt neglected, they pushed their nose against their owner’s body, seeking, demanding attention and clarification.

“everyone on the internet is talking about being afraid of their men in the military possibly having one, and-“

“and you immediately thought we’d have one at the base, huh doll?”

you softened your expression, and he could finally recognize his bunny back, obedient and gentle “you can’t blame me sir, i was only worried, was simply a question, i never know what really goes on in the base and—“

“no, no, no doll, you need to remember who you’re talking to, even when you ‘only want to ask’” he lifted his large hand and cupped your chin, squeezing your cheeks with a firm, yet gentle enough grip. “understand?”

your cheeks burned, bright and red between his calloused fingers, “I know but—“

a flicker of warning passed through his thin, squinted eyes like a shooting star, “do you understand, doll?”

you pressed your lips together, the serious look behind his eyes making your imaginary bunny ears tug down, back towards your head, and your tail tuck between your legs — you only nodded, still holding the same pouty expression.

he tilted his head expectantly, deepening his voice and cooing down at you, slightly raising his brows “that’s not how you answer me, is it sweetheart?”

“yes, daddy,” you finally let the words slip out, eyes softening even more when you recognized the tiny twitch of his mustache, that tried to hide and disguise his growing entertainment —

your cheeks burn brightly, a warm, red blush that almost felt warm against his calloused fingers, how could he be mad at his bunnygirl for being worried about her daddy? you’re so clingy and possessive, and it amuses him :(

with a short tug of you chin, he lifted your face closer to his, mere inches from his beard as he almost breathed against your lips, his voice so rough and low it sounded the rumble of distant fireworks.

“we don’t have that sort of thing in the base, angel, would never allow it, the only bunny I have hopping around me is you, little one. guess that makes you the captain’s personal barracks bunny, doesn’t it?”

sugar daddy!john price x sugar (cry)baby soft!fem reader, laaaarge age gap, price is in his late 40s and reader is 21, suggestive, daddy kink obviously

you’re sugar daddy!john price’s good girl, always eager to be pampered and showered with compliments — you just wanna be his good obedient little girl.

in and out of bed, you’re the most precious, obedient bunny girl, with the most evident praise kink, just wanting big old daddy price to call you his “good girl” — and oh john surely loves to give you what you need, always muttering with his rough, deep voice a “you’re such a good girl for daddy, aren’t you angel? atta girl, that’s a good girl”

and you’re content, soft and sweet :)

but — one time, john finds himself wondering if maybe your shyness isn’t preventing you from wandering into a different flowery path than the usual one you love lingering on,

you trust him with everything, but being the pillow princess that you are, the only way he could ever find out if you were into something else, would be by rolling his sleeves and taste the waters himself.

his hand grasp a fistful of your hair with the roughness you’ve grown to love, pulling your fragile body closer to him, until your back is pressed against his hairy, muscular and bulky chest — your cheeks are warm and red, and you can already picture the upcoming praise that’ll fall from his lips like petals, that’ll wrap you up in such a fuzzy feeling of contentment in the midst of all that harshness, roughness that makes you melt like strawberry and vanilla pudding in his hands….

he’s too caught up in the sensation, his young doll being so warm and soft around him — even if he’s a rough, hard dom, he always, always balances his harshness with gentle, tender words, praises and affirmations — always, until…

“y’er such a needy nasty little girl, look at you, a whimpering mess for you old man, isn’t that right? can’t even speak or think properly, sweetheart, used like a mere toy—“

…until the words that this time come next are unfamiliar, and your already ragged breath stills completely — your body stiffens, and you narrow your sweet eyes down towards the messy sheets, surprise striking through you like an unexpected lighting during a spring day. what?

where’s the ‘good girl, taking me so well angel, you’re so well behaved”

what? what happened to the praising part?

your chin wobbles, and a little, strangled meek sound bubbles from your throat — the corners of your eyes start feeling heavier, and a watery veil falls over them as delicate, little tears fill them up.

and price — when you tilt your head to look at him from over your trembling shoulder, frowning and glossy eyed with a look of confusion and hurt — oh gosh, he almost dies right there. you definitely aren’t into that, and he’s messed it up.

“doll— oh no princess, don’t cry baby—“ his growly, raspy words trail off as he realizes he’s said the wrong thing and you’re crying over his mean words. “shh, shh sweetheart,”

you let out a little mewl, and another pearly tear runs down your cheek, but he quickly coos down at you, hovering over your back and pressing a kiss on your teary face, “oh love, im sorry, don’t cry angel, fuck, you’re daddy’s good girl, you’re always my good, perfect girl”

you sniffle, your pouty lips quivering as his strong, heavy hands turn you around, laying you on your back against the mattress to face him “what was that, sir…?”

“nothing, angel, nothing, i didn’t mean it my love, daddy’s sorry, sweet thing,” every gruff, lowly spoken reassurance is followed by a kiss on your cheeks and lips, silly him, he just wanted to see if his little bunny would like to try a different type of candy…

swallowing back another sob, you look like an upset, sad little bunny, and you’re tempted to roll over and hide beneath the blankets.

oh he’d definitely have to make it up to you, how could he make his poor delicate good girl distress like that, although unwillingly?

“didn’t like it daddy..” you mumble softly, tilting your head and squinting your eyes when his mustache tickles your cheekbone

his warm, calloused hands rub your waist soothingly, caressing your hips as your limp arms locked around his neck, “I know love, I know princess, you’re my delicate, sweet, good girl, daddy‘s proud of you, bunny, I apologize, my lady…can this mean, bad daddy make it up to you, mmh, love?”

it’s hard to stay offended when his buff, bear body is pressed delectably heavily against you, muscles ripping and flexing underneath scarred skin — your cheeks flush red, burning bright, and you only nod, still pouting.

cause you know he didn’t really mean it :,(

it’s in your nature, good girls want to be praised affectionately, just like bunnies only want to be pet, and never scolded.

Do you think John would be the type to wake up with the deep husky, still half asleep type of voice?

oh my goodness gracious absolutely YES

his voice gets even deeper upon waking up, rough and different from the usual confident, commanding tone he carries — it rambles through his chest like the awakening of a earthquake, its coarse, husky and drowsy.

“Mornin’, love,”

oh my gosh, it’s such a warm sound, it sends a flame right through your belly and paints your cheeks red, first thing in the morning.

and when his heavy arm is draped across your waist, caressing your spine with thick, scarred fingers, rasping out your name in that voice?

you definitely cannot fight the urge to slip away from the soft duvets and climb on top of him, both legs swinging on his sides — and that’s the first sun he sees upon waking up, your smile and gentle doe eyes, warmer than any sunlight.

“good morning daddy, did you miss me while you were asleep?” you giggle, playfully, both hands lightly caressing his muscular and hairy torso (dad body dad body dad body)

“yeah doll, was fightin’ the sleep monster to let me see my little bunny,” he chuckles, warmly and deeply.

his voice should be illegal, you always try and tell him that smoking so much is bad for his health, but those cigars have shaped his voice in the most alluring way ever — even his british accent gets thicker, more pronounced, coarse, lethal, it could cut the air around you.

“should try and read my books out loud to me…” you tilt your head, and a glimmer of confident amusement twinkles in his eyes, at the sight of your red, warm cheeks.

“blushing already, sweet thing?”

he sounds like a grizzly bear.

(˶˃ᆺ˂˶) ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა

husband!john and bunny!reader in the kitchen making dinner together n reader forgets an ingredient needed for dessert but he says it’s ok bc he can always have reader for dessert or something ahhhh૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝<꒱ྀིა !!

god bless u n have a good day <3

GOD BLESS YOU TOO BBY thank u this is so sugar daddy!price after they finally get married, this kind of reqs is my favorite one sniff ໒꒰ྀི⸝⸝> ̫<⸝⸝꒱ྀི১!!

strawberry tiramisu was the original plan, you’d bought everything you needed, or so you thought, it was your favorite dessert, light, pretty, sweet and absolutely pink, and what made making it even more special was john standing next to you, his broad shoulders and muscular figure almost too tall to fit under the kitchen hood. The sleeves of his buttoned up shirt were rolled up, revealing his thick, hairy and muscular arms flexing with every movement, bulging as he was cutting some greens (he’d never let his pretty soft girl hold a knife)

you hummed lightly as you gathered all the ingredients on the counter, throwing the tiniest strawberry of the package into your mouth, savoring the sugary taste, but as you put down a plate full of ladyfingers, you realized you’d forgotten an important ingredient — your chewing stopped, and your eyes softened, disappointedly “oh, noo come ooon…” “what’s wrong, doll?”

“I’ve forgotten about the mascarpone, we only have whipped cream at home, can’t make the tiramisu without that..” you mumbled, swallowing down the rest of that strawberry mouthful.

john, ever the calm presence, glanced over from where he was chopping vegetables. He let out a low, deep chuckle, amused by your cuteness upon seeing your soft, upset frown. He placed the knife carefully down, making sure it laid away from you, and wiped his hands on the dishtowel.

he placed his hands on both sides of your waist, picking you up with a swift push. Sitting you on top of the counter, he slipped between your legs and looked down at you with a look of both tenderness and hunger, teasingly. “‘s fine, princess, guess i’ll have you for dessert, mmh? the sweetest thing I can have,”

you blushed at his rough, husky tone, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks — his hands gently caressed the curves of your hips, but you pouted, the taste of strawberry still lingering on your lips and making you long for that forgotten key ingredient, “im serious, daddy, I wanted to make you strawberry tiramisu,”

“and I’m even more serious, bunny,” he leaned over, his voice lowering even more, and his arms stretched on both sides of your waist, gripping the edge of the counter you sat on, “have my sugary treat right here, don’t I, doll? ‘s just hard to wait after dinner, knowing how good you taste, angel”

HII SWEATHEART

me again i hope i am not bothering you but i love your writing and you seem to be so so sweet and kind!! what about reader hearing someone at the bar or other place talking bad about Price and she goes to defend him in a very cute way but the person end up being very rude to her and she has to hold her tears?

again love the way you write never stop!

oh teddy bear you could never bother me promise you if anything im flattered by your kind n nice words thank you so so much muffin !! i think God has put me into this world to be kind and sweet with everyone, being kind is what i love doing the most <333 thank you for this req i just love this idea smmmm ┊͙ ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

🥧 | sugar daddy!john price x sugar baby fem! reader, laaarge age gap, john is in his 40s n reader is 21, rude ppl :(, crybaby reader, little defending her dd?? ughhhh

that costumer was a bit too loud for your taste, his voice rising above the gentle conversations around him. He had a beer in his hand and an annoyed look on his face as he vented to his friend,

“yeah, the owner’s only good at scaring people away from his own bar, acting like he’s on the field all the time, can’t do this, can’t do that, a washed up grump that keeps barking orders like he owns the damn whole town”

you froze mid-wipe, the little cloth pressed tight between your fingers and the wooden countertop, as you carefully looked over your shoulder, towards those men — his voice was a bit too loud for your liking, his words a bit too offensive.

”he’s so arrogant too, its a surprise he doesn’t shoot people for even looking at him,”

John? your, John?

your eyes softened, and your poor, gentle heart sank upon hearing those people talk so meanly about your man :( especially when they couldn’t be more distant from the truth.

they didn’t lie when they said that it was easier to defend someone you loved and cared about, than yourself, which is why you straightened your back, placed the cloth on the side and filled a glass with water, aiming towards their table.

“excuse me,” wearing your most polite, nicest costumer smile, although you could feel it falter on your lips, you placed a glass of water down on their table, “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation and…thats not nice, he could be here and hear you, you know?”

the man took a slow deep of his beer, giving you a disinterested look, before smirking behind his glass and lowering it.

“oh, I see,” he said with a sarcastic lilt. “You’re one of those, huh? Gold diggers, defending the old man.” He leaned back, crossing his arms. “let me guess…some big, tough man that pays you to be nice with him, just because he can shoot a gun and bark orders doesn’t make him a good person, or a hero”

your sweet smile dropped and you blinked, your chest tightening. You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected to be ridiculed—especially when all you wanted to do was stand up for him, gently, even.

your cheeks burned red with embarrassment, and you could feel your throat constricting, but you held your ground, forcing yourself to speak and maintaining a well mannered voice.

“I—I’m not a gold digger, and- you don’t even know him..you really should be careful about judging someone without even knowing who they are, especially when you’re coming to his bar”

the man rolled his eyes and scoffed. “please, save me the lecture, darling. That man has become filthy rich working with the americans, and when he gets back here he acts like a hero of the country, he should just retire soon, we only come here cause the liquor is old and expensive, just like him”

you stood there, trying to keep your composure, but the words cut deeper than you expected — a lump formed in your throat, and you could feel the sting of tears threatening to escape, you were never good at handling emotions or conversations, the the slightest rude word made you cry.

“he works in the military to protect people, and he’s not a bad man, that’s just- that’s rude, why can’t you just be nice? he’s just doing his job, and he helps people in need-“

“did he pay you to say that too, it only took one slip to his bed, right?”

that’s what you did when you felt like you couldn’t keep up with talking anymore, you ran — without waiting for another response, you turned away, walking back to the bar, frustration sparking off every step of your heels.

why was confronting people so hard? it didn’t surprise you that you only felt safe with John around

the lump in your throat tightened, and before everyone could see the promise of tears being revealed on your soft, kind face, you walked down towards his office, but felt a large hand on your waist, stopping you.

you whipped around, your heart racing.

it was John.

“hey, hey, doll, what’s going on?” he let his eyes dart worriedly around your weary face, tilting his head to peer down at your teary expression — his rough, yet gentle tone cut through the emotional fog that had settled over you “why are you crying, my love?”

you blinked, trying to steady yourself, but your vision blurred with unshed tears. His eyes softened as he stepped closer, his large hands resting on your shoulders.

“did someone say something?” he asked, his voice lowered, sounding more protective, you could hear the slight tone of warning and threat towards whoever might have made you cry. 

a single tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, embarrassed. But John didn’t seem bothered by it — he’d learned peoples’ different body languages throughout the years, especially yours, his little girl expressed herself through tears, it was his role as a caregiver to read behind the delicate pearls.  

“they were saying mean stuff about you, sir, didn’t like that, just wanted to…to defend you, that’s it, but they thought i was a gold digger and..other things that I don’t wan’ you to hear,”

he quickly caught a silent tear with his thumb, wiping it away and pressing his hand against your cheek “angel, you don’t have to fight my battles, I assure you I don’t care about anyone’s opinion, couldn’t care less, princess, im a grown man,”

“but its unfair, i hate when people say mean things about others…you always treat me so well and they don’t know it, you weren’t even there to say something”

he cooed down at you, the tiniest hint of a small smile tilting his mustache upwards “oh sweetheart, i appreciate it, im honored to be defended by such a cute, loyal bunny, mmh??” he scratched your chin with two fingers, making you smile softly between your tears, and wipe your cheeks, still sniffling, finally feeling comfortable enough to let the faucet running.

“let daddy handle this, I sure as heck don’t fuckin’ care about what others say, love, too old to mind, only care about this pretty thing right here” he lifted his fingers, pushing your chin upwards and giving your nose a little kiss “no more tears for daddy, got it? he can take care of himself,”

you nodded, he exuded control and authority all the time, like nothing ever touched him, and with yet another kiss on your lips this time, slow and firm, he tilted his head towards his office. “wait for daddy there, aight? I’ve ordered some apple cider to try and sell at the bar, for people with health issues that can’t drink alcohol. Go try it and tell daddy if it’s good, okay?”

you almost let your chin wobble again at how thoughtful the idea was, but only nodded again, reaching up to give him another kiss before slipping to his office like a hopping rabbit.

john straightened his back, cracking his neck, his bones emitting a sound he didn’t like. With a serious, unimpressed look, he strolled down towards the tables, his eyes finally finding those two men.

simon and gaz had warned him about some bastards making his missus cry, that’s why you didn’t found him in the office, he’d been looking for you.

without saying a word, he appeared behind them, and clasped his hands tight against the back of their necks, gripping them in a fake, friendly greeting gesture, using too much force — they almost jumped on their seat, their drinks almost slipping from their hands.

“gentlemen, heard ya were' talkin' 'bout me. If ya so bloodyy' interested in me story, you can ask, I don’t bite, what ya say? maybe ya want to enlist with me? want to feel the drill of a mission, maybe not coming out alive?”

hello!! i hope this is okay and that you’re taking requests because i absolutely adore your writing! your relationship with God and spirituality is also really special to me, i love to see how you connect with Him <3

could i please request a comfort fic, perhaps about sweet reader having subdrop and aftercare fluff? or just any sweet fluff with the dynamic you write. i hope you’re doing well, thank you for the wonderful content!!

I saw this req this morning and it made me smile sooo much, thank you for the kind and sweet words bubble bee, im genuinely head over heels over this message <333 im glad you can see through how special my relationship with God is, he’s literally my comfort person and i love showing how much he means to me and how much i love him, he’s so good and kind and caring ૮ ⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ·̭ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝ ྀིა by the way, i love writing about daddy price in the ddlg setting, id regress all the time with him 🐰

🍼 | ddlg, agere dynamic, sugar daddy dom!john price x sugar baby little!fem reader, pure fluff, laaarge age gap, reader is 21 and john is in his mid 40s, might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but shows what their relationship also consists of.

you only wanted to be held, loved and protected by a strong, old and gruff man :( and sugar daddy!john price was the best caregiver ever to toy.

you were his little girl, so young and innocent, didn’t want to worry about adult life :( could be his princess in peace n let him handle all the responsibilities that came with being an grown up.

those burdens and life expectancies stilled the moment you sat down on john’s lap, recharging your little self, and basking in your daddy’s attention — he could read you with a single glance, the redness of your cheeks, the way your eyelids grew a bit heavier, your fidgety movements and incoherent mumbles, your clinginess, they all spoke volumes about your needs.

he moved his lips to your temple, pressing a few kisses on top of your head, his mustache was pressed against your hair, rubbing it affectionately “what’s wrong, sweetheart? feeling little, mmh?”

you nodded against his chest, curled up like a lap bunny, your legs swinging over his — you had to act like a big girl outside, just to come back home to him and sink deep into sub space. ૮꒰っ˕‹̥̥̥ ꒱ა

“dont wanna do anything today, sir,” you closed your eyes took a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of his muscular, chiseled chest radiating warmth against your body, his bulging arms holding you close to him.

“have to study, but i just wanna lie down ‘n rest, read my books, watch cartoons n drink hot cocoa..don’t wanna be an adult, it’s tiring, wanna be carefree, live the kind of life God has promised us,” you snuggled your face against his pectorals, and his arm quickly moved to your head, large and warm as it begun to caress your hair, brush it with his bare fingers

“I know, doll face, don’t have to worry about a single thing, sweet girl, just be daddy’s little girl, you have me to take care of you” he pressed another kiss to your temple, and you lifted your head from his chest, pushing your bottom lip out and looking at his lips, letting him lower his head and meet your lips with eager compliance,

you titled your head to give him more access, and his tongue pushed deep into your mouth, pressing against yours, making you pour a soft, delicate whine into his mouth, which he quickly took possession of, devouring it.

he pulled away, your lips only inches apart, his warm, breath caressing your flushed, red cheeks, but you wanted another one, neediness flowing into your body and making you even clingier — you pressed your mouths together again, open mouthed kisses that he accepted with an amused, entertained expression, his sharp, intense eyes never leaving you.

“careful, angel, might give this old man a heart attack with all this affection,” his gruff joke, mumbled roughly, made you giggle against his lips, and you gave him a sweet smile, your eyes as glittery as those sticker sheets you — unexplainably to him — liked to collect.

“can you use your words to tell daddy what you need right now baby, mmh? wanna be my little girl?”

you nodded shyly, your fingers playing with the strap of his watch, “ben n Jerry’s…”

“wanna eat ice cream on daddy’s lap? your favorite flavor?”

“yes daddy, please” you nodded again and gave him your puppy pleading eyes, feeling appreciative for his understanding and deep, gentle love towards you — he was such a fierce, bulky man that only learned how to be gentle with his hands to hold you, his little princess :(

“your wish is my command, my lady, come here,” he stood up, effortlessly carrying you with him and locking your legs around his waist with a single arm, “I’ll get your favorite stuffie, probably wonders where his momma is, mmh?”

(っ˃̣̣̥ -˂̣̣̥ς)

“sleepy,” you mumbled against his neck, letting him carry you with minimal no effort — he chuckled deeply, and patted your butt playfully, “yeah babygirl, nap time after ice cream, so daddy can go do some work stuff, deal?”

Haii Bunny, thank you so much for feeding all of us with your Daddy Price fics ❤️ This is gonna be super self indulgent, since my next semester starts on Monday, but could you pretty please do a piece of Daddy Price rewarding us for doing well in school?

oh starlight !! i hope and pray your semester goes smoothly, im deep into exams month so I understand completely, don’t forget to take care of yourcuteself and don’t stress too much lovely!!! Ily!

🍯 | fluff, sugar daddy!john price x college student sugar baby fem!reader, laaarge age gap, john is in his 40s and reader is 21, very cheesy n cute

“look at my good girl, all precious and sweet, doing so well in school…” john mumbles against your neck, his beard tickling your flushed skin as you giggle and try to push him away, hands pressed against his chest.

“you’re so fuckin’ cute when you study, so intelligent and smart, gonna be the death of me, angel”

you laugh softly, finding it amusing how john always got like this anytime he saw you studying — you’ve recently taken an exam you studied so hard for, and you excelled at it, and john seemed to puff his chest like typical proud men did anytime he mentioned it

“the exams aren’t over yet, daddy, im not done..” your back arched against the mattress and his huge, imposing figure loomed over yours, making you forget about your scattered notes all over the bed.

”dont care, doll, let daddy reward you for being such a good student, what do you want? new books? more skirts? plushies? just say it and it’s all yours, bunny, mmh?”

“don’t want anything,” you managed to say between half breaths and your crystalline laughter, as john kept up with his assault on your neck, leaving hungry kisses all over your collarbone, “your beard tickles, daddy, wait-”

”then let’s get your favorite ice cream, and then we can go to that store you like so much, that one, like the liquor, what’s it called…”

your eyes widened and you gave him the sweetest, most sparkling doe eyes, so sugary he just wanted to spend his entire days spoiling you rotten, “brandy??”

he grinned against your skin, inhaling your sweet, vanilla perfume that he’d gotten you last time you’d taken another exam.

“yeah, sweetheart, that one, mmh? what ya say?”

“don’t want you to spend money on me, daddy, doing good in college is my duty not a-“

“we’ll go to the bookstore,” he added, cutting you short with a sharp, deep rumble that made you rethink your last words.

oh.

“well, then…okay” you blushed, giggling when his hands slithered under your shirt and grabbed your waist tightly, pulling you against him.

“that’s my girl,” he rumbled, a low, deep praise that growled witching his throat and made you turn red — you pulled his dog chain and whined, a timid silent request to get closer and kiss you.

“I’ll get ya one of those school girl outfits you like to wear around the bar and that make me loose my fucking mind, mmh? guess it counts as a reward for daddy too, huh doll?”

he muttered those words against your lips, and you nodded against his own, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep him close — he grabbed your chin and tilted your head to gain more access, delving his tongue deeper inside your mouth, making you whimper against him

you didn’t really know how to ask for what you wanted, your inhibitions only making you let out soft, feeble sounds, knowing he’d understand what you wanted.

“aight, bunny, let’s get your sweet ass up before daddy decides to reward you differently, that can wait until we come back, yeah?

he grins and you reached out to grab his hanging dog metal tag, pulling on the chain to press another kiss against his lip, wanting to feel him close all the time, “promise?”

“oh sweetheart, im a man of my word”

hey my lovely, you’ve been feeding us lately and I have another request for you, john picking reader up from college and seeing some silly frat boy try and pick her up, hugeee pda to scare off any college boys

ughhhh oh gosh i neeeeed this sb every new request from you becomes my fav one but this one is such a guilty pleasure im in love with this scenario ૮꒰ ྀི⸝⸝⸝>_< ྀི⸝⸝⸝꒱ა big buff scary daddy that scares college boys away oh my gosh im blushinggg

🐰| sugar daddy!price x sugar baby fem!reader, laaarge age gap, john is in his 40s & reader is 21, pda!! pda!!

you looked at the text from sugar daddy!john saying he was coming to pick you up and he’d be there in a few minutes, heavens forbid his pretty little girl took the bus when she had a personal driver ! ૮(˶˃ᆺ˂˶)

you’d already said farewell to your girl friends, and were waiting all dolled up and cutely down the large college’s outdoor staircase, bag pack cutely stuffed up on your shoulder, your eyes flicked to the road as you anticipated john’s arrival, until someone sidled over, next to you.

”hey sweet face, you waiting for someone?”

you turned towards him and blinked, unimpressed by his words, your sweet features narrowing into a confused expression — you didnt know him, but you recognized the stance, the backwards hat and that easy grin that pattered every frat boy’s face.

“do you need a ride? can take you anywhere you need to go, baby girl, my car’s right there”

he tilted his head towards the college parking lot and you smiled politely, but your brows were frowned, and you mentally cringed a little bit — gosh, how could girls your age find boys his age attractive?

“no thank you, im actually waiting for someone,” you replied kindly, not having it in you to be straightforwardly blunt, “thank you though, I-“

“but you’re here waiting all alone, feel bad gorgeous,” he flashed you a grin, and you only shook your head, finding him almost entertaining — they all had the same look, the same behavior that exuded the desire to impress, thinking any girl would automatically like them.

“come on, just call them and tell them you’re being picked up,” his attempts, while harmless, aren't quite hitting the mark, he clearly cant read a girl’s body language, and you almost offered to teach him how to really act with a lady if he wanted to impress one,

“my daddy’s almost here, sorry” you squeezed your shoulders cutely together, hoping he’d get the idea and catch on your disinterest, but he was undeterred, didn’t seem bothered the slightest,

“well, then tell your father I’ll get you home safe and sound,” his voice trailed off, eyes slowly turning up to stare at something behind you, but you didn’t have time to turn,

you felt an arm wrapping around your lower back, and a large, warm hand tugged you by the hip, drawing you back against a hard, solid chest — the strong scent of tobacco and whiskey tickled your memory, and you looked upwards, finding John, standing right beside you, pressing you against him.

“hey, doll” he squeezed your hip in a silent greeting, eyes solely focused on the guy who’d been speaking to you — there was no menace behind them, only a serious, intimidating gaze that would’ve had anyone back down “m’ here, ready to go?” you felt your whole body turn into flames, cheeks completely red and bright, a rush of shyness making your heartbeat increase — you were in public, outdoors, and no one knew about your relationship.

you opened your mouth to say something, but he only pulled you closer to him, turning you towards him to face him, and lowered his head, crashing his mouth against yours to plant a heavy, demanding kiss on your lips — his kiss was rough, steady, and even though you were the physical one, always eager to display love and affection physically, even in public, you were completely surprised by his action, taken aback.

when he pulled back, he straightened his back, subtly changing his posture — broad shoulders, squared and straight, head held high, arrogantly, exuding unwavering, quiet confidence.

he looked so scary, all buff, muscular and bulk, with his huge, tall body and thick, dark, graying beard — he looked like the most attractive dilf you’d ever see around, a mountain bear that screamed adulthood in the most authoritative way.

oh gosh, and he’d just kissed you in front of that boy, nonchalantly, like he absolutely did not mind about scaring him off.

“aight, give me that,” he gently took your backpack from your shoulder, throwing it over his, all flowery and with tiny keychains jingling at the motion. “let’s go sweetheart,”

you, standing with your heart beating fast, only turned towards that guy — poor him, he looked scared, shoulders low and grin gone, the sight of john must’ve reminded him what real adults looked like.

“uhm, bye then,” you waved at him, giving him an apologetic smile, and tucked your arm around john’s bicep, walking next to him towards his car. his car — that vintage, old fashioned looking car, some students watched from afar as he opened the passenger door for you, letting you sit down before strolling confidently around the car and getting into the driver side.

you sat there, like a little, shy, blushing, hands tucked on your lap, playing with the sleeves of your shirt, “can we put music on, sir?”

“im your personal driver, bunny, do as you please”

you bit down a little smile that formed on you lips, still shy and timid, but turned towards him and leaned closer, planting a soft, loud kiss on his mustache, like you always did

“thank you, daddy”

“you should thank me I didn’t scare that kid off with my rifle, doll, I put men in jail, can’t end up in one”

hi my lovee, reader receiving flowers and assuming they’re from price? He gets home and is LIVID

hiii my dear babyyy </3 im in love with this request wanna scream kick my feet giggle girlishly

💐| lil fluff, sugar daddy!john price x sugar baby fem!reader, laaarge age gap, john is in his mid 40s n reader is 21,

it wasn’t your fault :( due to your upcoming exams, you told john that couldn’t go to the bar, hence why you’ve been home all day, studying, what you didn’t expect though, was to find a postman ringing at the door, holding the cutest flower bouquet for you.

your eyes instantly softened at the sight, immediately thinking about john, who’d often make sure to send you flowers when he was away in deployment, or when he couldn’t see you for a long time, getting them delivered to the house.

your cheeks turned the same pink of the flowers, and you quickly thanked the mailman, taking the bouquet from his hands and holding it close to your nose to inhale the fresh, sweet fragrance. 🏷️ | for the sweetest girl in town,

the softest giggle bubbled from your throat, and you quickly ran to the kitchen, filling an empty glass with water to place the flowers into.

and a few hours later, when john came back from the bar just to check on you, see if you needed anything, you practically jumped at him

“thank you for the flowers, daddy, they’re so pretty” you smiled at him, and it seemed like the sun itself had revealed its rays, your warm, blushing cheeks and doe eyes revealing your bashfulness as you stood on your tippy toes and planted a kiss on his mouth, pressing your lips against his.

john just blinked at you, cluelessly, as he returned the kiss, remaining still — his buff, marble crafted body as rigid as a statue “what flowers, doll?”

you plopped back down and tilted your head, smiling in compliance — “the ones you’ve sent me today, sir, i love them, you always remember pink flowers are my favorite”

but that didn’t clear his mind not even a bit — he was sure he hadn’t sent you any flowers today, and it couldn’t even have been one of those monthly bouquet subscription plans he’d signed up for when he was deployed and far away, occupied with long missions, because in that case he would’ve received an email.

so who was the fool that dared to send his girl flowers? to their home?

as if something had switched inside of him, you could see his jaw clenching, muscles flexing in a way that reminded you of a grizzly bear that tried to tame his temper — a shadow of annoyance crossed his eyes as he spoke, “I haven’t sent them, doll”

your smiles faltered briefly, thinking he must’ve been joking, wanted to keep the surprise effect, but when he moved closer to the table, scrutinizing the bouquet like a challenge, a wave of embarrassment flooded over you.

“what do you mean? you always send me flowers, sir..” you spoke meekly, not wanting to fuel the already heavy discomfort you could feel in the air.

john had been through a lot, he’d faced terrorists, had fought the horrors of battles and wars, but nothing had ever spurred that boiling feeling of anger within his chest that was slowly coming to surface now, roughening the edge of his growly tone “not today, sweetheart”

his fingers touched the little envelope tucked around the bouquet’s stem, “a secret admirer, eh?”

his voice was low, teasing in a way that felt both playful and possessive way — he was a grown, confident, adult man, he knew you were all his, and yet, the sight of another man's gesture, especially one so thoughtful, unraveled something inside him, a possessiveness and jealousy that boiled within him.

that jealousy didn’t come from insecurity, but from a certainty of a man who knew what he had and what he wanted to keep for himself, being the seasoned and confident leader he was, he mastered control over any situation with outmost quiet assertiveness.

he didn’t lash out or yell, oh no, he simply looked down with a dry, dark stare “who the fuck sends flowers to a taken girl?”

you opened your mouth and closed it right after, your cheeks blooming red, and walked closer to him, looking at the flowers differently now, since the note didn’t have a name on it. “I supposed they were from you, sir, as usual..”

“no, angel, some bloke thought he could try and win my girl,” he chuckled, a deep, short, chilling laugh that screamed silent anger. “foolish kid, could use some military training in his life and learn how to fookin’ know his limits”

his mustache twitched, like it always did when he tried and keep his anger in check, and he turned towards you, who’d already begun to play with your hair nervously, eyes narrowing worriedly.

“didnt know sir, im sorry, i genuinely thought they were from you..”

you were like a calming, comforting balm to him, poor sweet girl, you were just so innocent and naive :( but whoever had sent them, hadnt left a signature, which now left you wondering how could have possibly been.

he held your chin with his whole hand, lifting it up towards his face, and planted a forceful, heavy kiss on your mouth, feeling you squirm against him when he bit on your bottom lip, “not mad at you, doll, i know you did,”

when he pulled away, he grabbed your chin with his fingers, squeezing softly as he looked down at you with darkened, half lidded eyes — it had probably been a kid from college, and he didn’t feel threatened by that at all, just pissed.

“hes just giving me more things to do with my line of work, princess, just wait until I find out who that bastard is, gonna send him something special,”

you shivered at the silent threat behind his words, his thick British accent lowering to a dangerous tone, a growly and lethal edge to it,

”i can send them back if you want-“

“oh nono, love, know you’d feel bad, let me take care of it, princesses don’t get their hands dirty, their daddies do”

old!royal knight!john price x soft!young princess!reader

🗡️| just an idea I’ve had in mind for a long time, fluff, john is the captain of the royal army and you’re the king’s niece, of course laaaaarge age gap as always, john is in his mid 40s and reader is 21, innocent n obviously virgin cause yeah

your fingers moved like a gentle, intimate lover against the pages of your book, bestowing your gaze to the the following chapter as you turned the pages — the early afternoon sun was your favorite, casting a golden and bright glow inside your room, shining over the walls like sunlight tapestry, and wrapping you in a blanket of warmth. 

a hand tapped against the back of your door, a feeble sound that pulled your eyes towards it like an invisible hand on your chin — you waited for the maid to let her presence be known, but only her voice echoed through the wooden door. 

“Your majesty, the Captain of the royal army is here, he’d wish to be attended”

you blinked your eyes, as sweet as a spring apricot, and carefully closed the book, placing it on the shelf of your window seat. Your uncle wasn’t home, meaning the Captain should’ve waited for his return, to be received — you were alone, reading in your chambers and spending your time between the loving hugs of your books, but as the only member of the royal family present at moment, you were expected to receive anyone who asked to be greeted. 

you were the youngest, barely even legal, and as the first niece of the king, who didn’t have any children of his own, you were loved as his own daughter, earning the title of princess — 

you walked nervously towards the living room, mentally praying your uncle could come back soon, having absolutely no clue what you could possibly serve the Captain with — the only things that occupied your mind, heart and free time being books, people from the village, animals and dresses. You had hoped a chaperon lady would accompany you, but rather you found yourself attending your duty alone. 

the creamy walls of the living room would have usually caught your attention upon walking through the room, with their soft and delicate color you liked so much, but this time, your eyes focused solely on the man standing right in front of the large window. 

your heart stilled, blood rushing through the quickening beats of your young, innocent heart and flowing into your cheeks, painting them a bright shade of red. 

“Your Majesty,” his voice rumbled like the far call of a distant thunderstorm, gruff and husky, and that roughness only fueled your blush as he walked closer, “Captain John Price, at your service” his hand, large and warm, gently took ahold of yours, bowing ever so slightly and pressing a light kiss on your palm, never adverting his gaze from yours. 

Captain John Price, a seasoned veteran of the Royal Army, stood as a paragon of discipline and unwavering resolve. His grizzled appearance, with a salt-and-pepper beard and weathered features, spoke of years spent on the frontlines, facing battles far from the safety of the royal halls — he reminded you of a grizzly bear.

clad in the dark, ceremonial armor of the king’s elite forces, he bore the weight of his rank with quiet authority — standing tall and broad-shouldered, he exuded the rugged strength of someone who had spent decades in the service of the crown. His build was muscular, honed from years of battle, and you, a young and blooming little girl, thought that he resembled the ‘buff’ body your many romance books told of..

his face was a map of his past: weathered and scarred, the lines of age and experience etched deeply into his skin, and you found him to be attractive, rugged in a charming way, with his thick, graying beard and mature lines — his hair, once a dark brown, had begun to turn a slight silver at the temples, he was clearly much, too much older than you, old enough to be your own father, seemed to be the same age as your uncle (little did you know, they’d known themselves for years)

“you…” your eyes flecked over his, seemingly starstruck, a naive awe that made you stare at him, blushing heavily, heart almost pounding out of your chest, briefly forgetting about your manners — but you quickly tried to regain your composure, shaking your head lightly and giving him the hint of a shy, sweet smile, lashes blinking delicately at him.

“please, sir, no need for such formalities, I’m not my uncle,”

he straightened his back, allowing his gaze to travel slowly, appreciatively along your whole body, such a young, pretty thing you were. 

“I’ve heard you’ve been looking for my uncle, but he’s not here unfortunately, so…” you nibbled on your lower lip, tilting your head “I don’t think I could be of any assistance with any of your questions regarding the, uhm, army.”

“I’m aware of his absence, princess” the corner of his mustache twitched slightly, “I was told upon my arrival, but I must make the most of my time no less, cannot go back to my soldiers without a royal summon, it is important for the upcoming mission”

you blinked, twice, dumbfounded, “you need a..royal report?”

“yes, princess,” he replied, authority and confidence dripping from every word, making a warm, unfamiliar tingle fill your belly, a knot that made it hard to breath “the king and I have decided that I shall come here to gather decisional informations about his will, before having my army carry their swords”

“I, well, have no idea what his will is, the king will definitely be more useful with his own judgment,” 

he looked at you with an unreadable expression, entertained by your humble tenderness, politeness and sweetness, he could practically taste the inexperience and innocence dripping off you, and it made something stir deep inside of him, a growing, illicit hunger and desire

maybe it was your dress, how it ended slightly above your knees, it wasn’t long and luxurious, but rather short and modest, your long hair didn’t carry a large crown, but a thin, sparkling tiara that possibly weighed less than his sword. “what about you, princess?” 

“me..?” you hesitated, slightly lifting your brows, you? what could you possibly know about war? “personally..in my modest opinion, I ween you should simply interrupt the war” 

stupor crossed his intense, calculating eyes, and you expected him to laugh at you, but a spark of amusement came by his gaze, curiosity even — how odd, for a princess as young as you, to reveal such a drastic measure

“Interrupt the war, you say?”

“I, uhm..” you timidly shrugged your shoulders, your fingers fidgeting with your ring — his eyes fell on it, awareness grew into his war scattered, old heart: a purity ring. 

“I must admit I keen nothing about the current war, but if I have learned something, is that it can never bring anything good, and people should simply cease them, just as easily as they start them,” you dared a glance towards his unmoving stance, his eyes bore focused on yours, and you’d ever felt so seen or listened before. 

“they’re unnecessary, just an arrogant and terrible way to prove strength, and..well” you swallowed on your own words, shyness wrapping around you like your so loved lace ribbons, and gave him a gentle smile “In my humble opinion, that course of action may not be the best, im a firm believer and defender of kindness, even between enemy legions”

he smirked, dozens and dozens of years behind his back, and he’d never come across such a pure innocence before — oh, dear, protected by the nightmares of this world, the reality of war, so naive it made him almost undeserving to stand in such a pure presence.

he only shifted his position, unclenching his jaw and regarding you with slight tilt of his head, “well, princess, I’ll make sure to take your advice at heart, though I must admit, if it were this simple, I would not still be fighting battles since before you were even born, your highness,”

“i admit it might sound juvenile coming from me, i know my uncle owes you deep respect, and although this is my first time seeing you, I’ve heard about the many conquers under your name, sir,” you blinked again, your big, doe eyes tantalizing the hunter inside of him — you’d never seen him before, only heard about his reputation in the army, and wished your uncle had introduced him to you. “therefore, I’m flattered to be able to stand before you, Captain Price”

who knew the king had such a young, sweet little niece? you looked like a trembling fawn underneath his gaze, a fragile bunny wrapped in innocence, someone who could use his protection, who’d look good sitting on his lap, who could be the perfect trophy and gift for an old, experienced, weary soldier who served the crow his entire life.

he grinned, knowing what to answer the king, next time he asked him what he desired as a offering gift for his service to the crown.

when sugar daddy!john price finds out about the little furry friend you’ve taken it while he’s been on deployment…

you’ve been looking forward to your daily — nightly — call from john all day, now that hes been back on deployment. And you’re not alone, your new fluffy friend can practically feel the excitement and happiness swirling in the air, and is now wagging his tail contently, nudging his humid nose against your lap.

“hello?” your sweet voice rings like a mellifluous, honeyed waterfall, the first sugary and pleasant sound that john has heard in days. “sir?”

“doll,” his own voice is a deep, warm and low note, rough and husky, it makes you blush and squirm even from a large distance. “hi princess”

“hi, daddy!” it’s exactly when he hears the pure joy in your voice that he’s reminded of why he’s still fighting to protect that country — he’s been a soldier his entire life, a roughened and hardened captain, fearsome and grouchy, who loves working in the military, but ever since meeting you, hes found a reason for wanting to come back, someone to come back to.

“how are you sir?” you crouch and rub your free hand on top of Oreo’s soft, almost plush fur, scratching behind his ear just like you’ve learned he likes so much. “I miss you so much daddy,”

“daddy’s fine, love, just headed back to my private quarters, how’s my precious girl doing?”

you hear the faint sound of fabric rustling on the background, the metallic jingle of a belt being unbuckled is familiar to your ears, and makes you flush, warm and red skin pressed against the phone. “im alright, i went to the bookstore with my friend this morning, and finally tried the new starbucks collection,”

he coos at you, still listening attentively, and you wonder if he’s done getting changed, his uniform tidily folded on his mattress. “that’s good, angel, any problem with the bar?”

you feel Oreo stand up on his paws and snuggle up against your lap, the scent of his soap filling your nostrils an making you smile, still petting his head and back “no, I’ve met some local regulars and they were wondering when you’d open again, are the boys okay? do they miss me?”

his deep, warm chuckle makes you blush more, you just love how velvety his voice sounds “yeah doll, keep asking me how my missus’s doing-“

“woof!”

you widen your eyes and remain still, looking down at Oreo who’s basically demanding more pats — you gesture to him to remain quiet, bringing a single finger to your lips.

but john, able to recognize the tiniest shift in ambience and air, practically made to catch any movement and sound, gruffs in your ear

“…who’s that?”

you freeze, pressing your lips together, still petting Oreo that now titled his head, as if understanding where the conversation will inevitably head to…

“no one, ‘s just my friend, daddy” you mentally pray that you’re sounding convincing, knowing well you can’t — and don’t want to — lie.

a few seconds of silence pass between you and price, before you hear the gruff rumble of his voice, somehow tinted with a suspicious tone and becoming even lower. “…your friend barks?”

“no, he’s uhm…he’s just, happy” you try to bite down a worried smile, nibbling on your lip, but Oreo doesn’t show the tiniest concern over your worry, simply wagging his tail and rubbing himself against you — maybe he doesn’t realize that his daddy is on the other side on the phone, or maybe he does and is eager to let his presence be known.

“doll.” the warning in his rough, low tone would’ve made you shiver in a pleasant way any other moment, but now, it only makes you lift your shoulders against your light neck, faking obliviousness — you understand now why his soldiers always straighten their backs in fear when he speaks with that tone.

“mmmhh, yes, daddy?”

“woof!”

“shh, Oreo!” you whisper to the border collie, but it sounds like a yell to john, who’s now sitting down, a large hand scratching his beard and ruffling his hair tiredly, a heavy sigh stuck on his throat.

he clenches his jaw, the muscles shifting his facial hair before his mumbles something quietly, hand now pressed against his forehead.

you did it, you’ve taken a stray home, to his home, and he’s coming back tomorrow.

part 2 coming soon🍓

not sure how you would feel about this. but price or reader (or both) getting baby fever SOMEHOW, not sure, gets him thinking about when you finish college, maybe even before that. 💍? 🍼?

price wants to marry you when you finish college, he will, absolutely — for now, you just need to study hard and be pretty, you’re basically already his so it’s just a matter of time before you can call yourself bunny price, lol!

buuttt, you being so so young, when he even thinks about putting a baby in you, you look at him with the sweetest gaze and mumble “but im your little girl, daddy “ with glossy eyes 🥺

you don’t get that baby fever yet simply because you want to be his baby forever, his little one — obviously, it wouldn’t be the same thing in that case, but you want to be his only little princess :(

that’s why you’d look good being parents to a lil boy in the future.

but you’re still so young and innocent, still studying to graduate, he needs to wait before he can put a mini price in you, AND, you want to get married first, you can’t wait for a wedding. basically you want to be the only one to call him daddy, is it childish? yes, wasn’t this whole relationship a chance for you to be juvenile in peace in the first place?

ahhhhhh i’m in love with your blog!!!! your reader is so freaking cute!!!!! may i request maybe a reader who finally gets to show sugar daddy john her comfy thigh highs? i think he’d absolutely love them

sending you all the love 💕💕💕 - Lover

thank you lovelyy!!! sending you all the hugs and kisses and smooches , he’d go crazy over them !! innocent in a luring way? he wants to take care of her and protect her from the rest of the world and pamper her but also rip off those thigh highs with his teeth-

🎀| sugar daddy!john price x sugar baby!fem reader, innocence kink, ddlg, that’s it, pure fluff though! price is very hot and old and reader is very young and sweet eheh, laaarge age gap (price is in his 40s and reader is 21)

“do you like them, sir?” your dollish eyes are set on the new pair of stockings you’re wearing, as milky and light as your skin, embroidered with the most delicate fabric — you love thigh highs, they make you feel soft and cute, and you can never own too many since most of them get on the floor and ripped by a certain captain…

you don’t notice the way his eyes are stuck on your legs, the second skin hugging your thighs in a way that makes him want to replace them wish his hands, his scarred, warm hands — his mind hungrily feasting on how he could rip the new pair, keep it in the pocket of his uniform to carry with him to every mission, but you would get upset if he destroyed another pair, you just love collecting them and keep them as they were new :(

your voice lingered in the air like heart shaped bubbles and he quickly regains consciousness, clearing his throat and shifting on his seat “mmh? what was that, doll?”

“the…thighs” you finally look up at him, thin uncertainty in your voice when he doesn’t answer right away, blinking cutely, doubting. “do you like them? they’re new”

“yeah, yeah angel i do, they’re adorable” he gives you a little smile, the one you like to call ‘quokka’ smile, and give him one of your own, cheeks painted red, blushing timidly.

or he could steal them from you, and get a new pair for you to keep everyday, hundreds, in exchange, you just look so edible wrapped in your innocence and thighs highs, it seems to him they have no purpose other that make him bite down his fist and—

“im glad daddy, theyre my new favorites, they were impossible to find, with the embroidered roses and—“

here goes his daydream crashing into million pieces, with that, he knows you’ll never let him rip those thigh highs while he devours you even for a million more promised to come. :(

oh, girls. young girls, to be specific.

The guys that I like just said to me that he doesn’t like me back💀

Now I need a cute daddy!price moment 🙏🏻

btw I love your writing 💕💕

oh cupcake im so so sorry, please don’t let that discourage you or make you feel too sad, im sure you’re beautiful n loving, and at the right time, the right guy will notice you an pick you beautiful flower up <3 everyone’s beautiful and everyone has their other half somewhere, maybe that wasn’t him, but delight in knowing that you’ll definitely find him and you can use this experience as a way to just focus on your glow in the meantime, ily enjoy this is for you🐇🍰 🍡 | sugar daddy!john price x sugar baby fem!reader, laaarge age gap as always (price is in his 40s and reader is 21) ddlg!! little space mentioned, very fluffy

“you’re so old,” you giggle mostly to yourself while you let your fingers scratch his salt and pepper, dark, thick beard. he stays quiet, as usual, only the almost imperceptible twitch of his mustache and the way he pecks his brow upwards give you any sign that he’s heard what you’ve said.

“careful with those words, angel” he mutters, a rumbling, rough voice that makes you giggle again, “but you are! my old, grumpy man”

you squeeze your tiny hands delicately against his cheeks, pressing an open mouthed kiss on his lips, and one more, and another one.

he doesn’t fight your affection, staying still and keeping his eyes steady and firm on your movements. He slithers a hand around your lower back, pulling you closer by your waist, fingers locked on your hip.

“might be your grumpy, old man, but ya still need to be respectful, doll face. Watch your mouth.”

you fake a little pout, throwing your arms around his strong neck and shifting impossibly closer on his lap, launching yourself up with your thighs until you can for once look down on him. “why, daddy, you don’t like being my old man anymore?”

“cheeky little thing y’are” he chuckled, a tiny laugh that almost sound like a scoff. “of course I do, what’s gotten my good girl in such a playful mood today, mmh?”

“I dunnoo..guess im just needy, and probably in little-“ your eyes stop blinking for a second, you realize in that moment that you’re sinking like a fish into the deep ocean of little space.

oh oh.

your cheeks flame up, taking in the same color and warmth of a summer midday sun. You gently shift down onto his legs again, your arms slowly untangling from his neck. “I mean, I guess im just needy, as always.”

“ah-ah, come back here,” he takes a firm hold of your hips, pulling you upward by your waist.

“what is it, princess? tell daddy, come on.”

“it’s nothing sir, im always this clingy” you bop his nose, admiring the way he’s literally aging like the finest wine, attractive and handsome in such a mature and charming way, with the contrast of streaks of gray on his dark hair. “but maybe i just…need some strawberry juice”

john grins at the innuendo, recognizing the secret word code you’ve both set for when you feel littler and needier than usual.

“warm bath with daddy? what’ya say, sweetheart?”

you gleam at the idea, nodding eagerly and happily, and with that, he pushes himself off the chair, effortlessly carrying you with only one arm wrapped under your legs, — you hear him grunt when standing, and you feel bad, scared you might hurt on him “am I-“

“you’re like a feather on my arms, doll, don’t even say it. I can effortlessly carry you wherever you want, just need to crack some bones, sometimes, comes with the age, you wanted an old man, that’s what ya get”

sugar daddy!john price x booklover (bookworm) sugar baby fem!reader series

🍧| warnings: fluuuuff!!! laaarge age gap, price is in his 40s and reader is 21, sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship (they’re in love lol), silly ppl, im basically reader lol

you’re standing in front of john’s desk, in your pink converse and with glossed, shiny lips “daddy?” your shy, timid voice draws his attention away from the secret file he was working on.

“what is it, angel?” his eyes are on you, but his mind is quiet elsewhere, and you don’t blame him, he’s been so busy lately, all kind of missions to prepare and work on, paperwork to do, order storage for the bar. you didn’t wanna bother him :(

“uhm, there’s this..this trend going on,” you start, words lingering into thin air as you hesitate and trail off, his brows narrowing at the word trend. was this going to be one of those young people things he didn’t understand?

“where couples go to the bookstore together, the guy gives his girl five minutes to look around for any books she wants, and then gets her however many books she can hold and carry within that set time…”

he’s never heard of it, he doesn’t have social media, and has no idea what a trend it — your old, grumpy man :,(

john’s frown dissolves, and he leans his broad shoulders back against his chair, quickly digging his hand into the pocket of his trousers, then jacket.

he pulls out a leather wallet, opens it, and picks up a credit card — you blink, towards the card and then at him, a sweet confused expression on your face.

“here, doll” he hands it over to you, eyes distractingly reading something he’d written on the file, his mind and focus drifting back to his work.

“what is that?” you ask, ditzy in your own cloudy mind, “I don’t want your credit card,”

he looks up at you again, a puzzled expression now replacing the previous concentration. “what do you mean sweetheart? why not?”

“Im not asking for your money, im asking you to come with me, pretty please?” you hold your hands together, a sparkling, puppy dog pleading look in your eyes. “wanna get more books”

“oh love, daddy can’t go right now, he’s got too many things to do, princess, do you want me to ask one of the boys to go with you?”

“no, i wanna go with you” you pout softly, sitting on the edge of his desk and looking at him over your shoulder “can we go when you’re done sir? that’s the whole point of the trend, couples going together”

“you could go with my card and buy the entire bookstore, doll?”

“but then I wouldn’t be spending time with you..” you let your legs swing over the edge, looking down at all the files and scattered papers.

he lifts his arm up, tugging at the sleeve of his buttoned down shirt and looking at his watch. “can you wait an hour? let daddy read this bad mean criminal’s file case?”

you smile, leaning over the desk, and press your glossed lips against his, giving him a quick, sweet kiss. “of course daddy, thank you, love you, you’ll help me pick books from my wishlist”

you jump off the desk, send him a flying kiss and go to your — shared — room. He licks the strawberry gloss off his mustache, smiling at the door. You’re probably the only sugar baby in the world who asks for his attention and love instead of his credit card.

okokok new idea 🤭

ovulating around John- you’re too nervous to bring it up but he KNOWS (or at least he knows something is eating away at you)

i’ll go crawl back in my hole now hehehehehe

he’s so perceptive he can read you off with a single glance, and don’t be surprised if he mentally memorizes your period cycle, he’s a man of habit, like a big, brown mountain bear… ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ

🍥 | warnings: sugar saddy!price x sugar baby fem!reader, laaarge age gap, price is in his 40s and reader is 21, reader is soft and feminine n sweet and price is like the hunter from snowhite, ehehe

it’s a lot of things — the new cologne he’s been wearing, that gorgeous watch around his thick, muscular wrist that makes you literally go insane, when he sits and parts his thighs widely, smoking his cigars, when he bucks his hips upwards, when he tilts his head and twitches his mustache, when he calls you princess, angel, babydoll…

well it’s basically everything he does that has been making you heat up — you’re ovulating and it seems like every single thing captain john price does makes your body go up in flames, mind sink into sub space.

poor bunny you’re in heat :(

he doesn’t do that on purpose, he always wraps his arm around your waist when walking past you, he always calls you good girl the entire day, so what’s wrong now? you try to ignore the feeling, the fire that blooms in your belly, that twists every time you hear his deep, low, rough voice.

you want to stay home all day long and let him have his way with you, but you’re working, squeezing your thighs together when he walks by — and it makes you moody, you feel bad, gosh why is your mind thinking about him dominating you so roughly, harshly, pounding into you in the meanest way ever and manhandling you like a rag doll? It’s embarrassing :(

”are you alright, doll?”

you get startled, almost jump when you hear his voice, cheeks burning bright practically on flames, goosebumps sparking down all over your bare legs. “mmhm, yes, everything’s fine sir” you chirp almost too quickly for his liking.

he raises his brow up, watching the way you begin to rub the tablecloth faster against the bar’s countertop, noticing how you seem to try and stay as distant from him as possible.

and then it hits him — you were on your period just a few days ago, which means…

he starts walking closer to you, until he stops to stand right behind you. He places both hands on the table surface, caging you between his large, muscular body and the countertop — stretching his arms on both side, he leans his head over your ear, his hot breath making you freeze your rubbing motion. Your eyes fall on the side, catching that darn watch on his wrist that has you hyperventilating and nearly collapsing.

“if you want something, doll” he punctuates the word something with a slight, imperceptible buck of his hips, pressing himself against your lower back. “you just have to ask nicely, love, need to use big girl words, mmh?”

you’re overheating, the temperature of the bar has dramatically increased, and you just hope this cycle ends soon. oh, girlhood..

“you’re mean sir..” you whisper, referring to the fact he knows you’re too shy to ask for basically any thing, wether it’s something you like, a cup of water or even a sense of relief.

“im not mean, sweetheart, im simply still training you, need to learn how to ask for something without whining or begging daddy with your eyes. Use your words, and then daddy will give you whatever you want, deal?”