Could You Like..pretty Please, Send Dadsbf! Old Man Daddy John Price Requests..? Pretty Please?🐇 Wanna

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?”

i should be allowed to sleep with an emotional support grumpy 200 year old dilf with swoopy kitty hair tuffs who could kill me in an instant but has undying love for me despite all the scars in his heart for cuddling and horny purposes, i think i deserve it

God, please take care of this.

God, I know You're taking care of this. please help me to endure.

literally me and Levi💕💕💕

The "she fell first but he fell harder" trope with Levi >>>>>

OK IK I PROMISED NO MORE SPAM BUT OMG UR A CHRISTIAN TOO?? TWIN OMG WAITTTT

-🪽

YAYYY LOVELY !! HOLY GIRLS HERE DAUGHTERS OF THE MOST HIGH LORD OF LORDS KING OF KINGS JESUS !! the way the truth and the life fr🐇✨

bar owner!john price x soft waitress!fem reader

🥛| fluff, beginning of my sugar daddy!price series, laaarge age gap, john is in his 40s and reader is 21 and works for him :)

as you hopped gingerly and cautiously from one table to another, taking orders and writing them down on your pink notebook, john couldn’t help but love the way you were so graceful, so sweet and nice to everyone, the way you’d always smile at a costumer, the way you’d gracefully bend to place the serving tray on the table

sitting far from you with a glass of scotch in his hand, a thick cigar on the other one, he’d make sure he could keep an eye out on you, on your wellbeing, even from the most hidden corner of the bar. He exuded confidence, authority, manspreading his legs and practically sitting like he owned the place —which, he did — his rugged, mature features darkened by a gloomy shadow. unbeknownst to you, he noticed everything: you, strolling over the counter to set the heavy glasses neatly on the tray’s surface, your red, warm cheeks and your short, tight uniform skirt. And when — if — a costumer’s eyes lingered on you or, heaven forbid, your skirt for a second too long, disrespectfully, he’d notice it alright. Oh, he’d make sure to teach that poor soul a lesson. Yes, he was a very quiet, reserved, mean man — but not when it came to you.

you were too busy, occupied for most of the night, barely catching a glimpse of john and his three musketeers, oblivious to the deaf sounds that were happening behind the entrance door.

“If I ever catch your dirty fuckin’ eyes on my girl again,” John gritted out, his mustache bare inches from the quivering face of that man that had dared to look at you in a way that didn’t please john after you’d taken his order, the man that now found his back pressed to a wall and rough, large hands gripping his collar tight “I’ll make sure you don’t get the chance to look at anyone ever again. Understand me?”

Hiii! Ok I am sorry if this is stupid but I’m a little confused . Is the reader an actually bunny, a human with bunny ears (so a hybrid idk), or neither? I’m just not sure.

Thanks!

you’re not stupid at all cupcake! lol she’s actually a human girl, but she’s price’s bunny, that’s her nickname because she resembles one both physically (her appearance) and personality wise cause she’s soft and sweet, but when I make bunny analogies in my fics it’s all a metaphor, she’s not an actual hybrid 🐇🐇 she’s his bunnygirl :)

Sugar daddy!price x fem!reader (bar owner series)

| 💌 warnings: sugar daddy-sugar baby relationship, suggestive, age gap!! (price is in his 40s & reader is 21), minors dni pretty please, I like to play around tension, I find it to be way more entertaining and actually attractive to read about.. (sort of part II of the previous blurb🧁)

”you better start getting used to coming here often, doll” the words coming from him sounded gruff and rough with his lips pressed hardly against your own, his mouth almost devouring your every breath, parted only slightly enough to let his voice brush against your face. “can’t have my little girl stay all alone in a tiny apartment too far away from her old man, mmh?”

you were already panting, your chest raising and falling with every feeble breath — poor thing, you were only kissing and you were already red and melting like ice cream.

price didn’t let you answer him before diving right back into your mouth, his lips crashing against yours like a man starved. The kiss was steady and precise, not too fast but hard and rough, enough to have your dainty hands grip his collar. Where he didn’t exceed in speed, he did in strength.

you whimpered against him, lifting up your head to try and reach better, your motion causing a deep, rumbling purr to vibrate from his chest. You felt his tongue push deeper against yours, ravishing your mouth like he hadn’t seen you in month and had just come back home from deployment, when in reality you’d just gotten back from a restaurant.

he still tasted like whatever rich type of vine he’d been drinking, and you tasted like that strawberry tiramisu that he’d insisted you order after seeing you blinking at the image on the menu for more than a millisecond.

he ended up ordering it for you, of course.

his mustache tickled your blushing skin, the dark, slightly graying flecks brushing against your skin and making you giggle timidly in between the kisses “wait, wait, sir, that tickles-“

you could feel him grin against your lips, oh how he couldn’t wait to train you into the most perfect girl, you were already a good girl, innocent and sweet, submissiveness dripped from you like honey and he was eager to feast on that nectar.

“sit down,” it sounded like a field order, he’d been so accustomed to the military leadership, that every word and action of his was naturally tinted by evident authority, dominance and control.

you plopped down on the couch in front of him, as quickly as the order had been spoken. Something glinted behind his eyes, he was satisfied with your effortless obedience.

“good girl,” you felt that familiar tingle burn down in your belly at the praise, you’d do anything to hear those words from him, to be called goor girl — his, good girl. You wanted, yearned to earn his praise.

“seems like my little girl has a thing for praise, doesn’t she?” he lifted his thumb and forefinger to gently grasp your chin, pulling it upwards to meet every battle of your doe eyes.

the grip was fierce enough, exuding dominance with every thoughtless gesture, and you were already a squirming mess. You mumbled a shy affermative sound, but he tightened the grip on your chin, giving you a look of expectation.

“I know you’re shy, sweet girl, but you need to answer when daddy asks you a question” his voice had gotten deeper, a rough and lethal edge to it like the back of a knife.

the back of his fingers pushed underneath your jaw, forcing you to look up at him — you wanted to tilt your head and snuggle against his palm, but he accentuated his order with a squeeze of your chin that almost made you whine, “use your words”

your cheeks grew warmer, redness spreading all over them as you blushed and pressed your knees together. It was all too new for you, torn between shyness and the evident need to obey his every request and order, you stammered out some swift words “yes, yes daddy, I do”

he gave you a lazy, satisfied grin “good girl” he released the grip on your chin, and tucked a loose string of long hair behind your ear “know you do, y’get all red and shy when i praise you an give you compliments, bloody hell, y’re the sweetest fucking girl alive”

oh his voice was your weakness — the deepest, lowest and sultriest tone you’d ever heard, roughened by desire.

“thank you, sir” you murmured politely, fighting back a shy smile that had started to form on your lips at his words.

“you said you know how this arrangement works, haven’t you?”

you tilted your head with a shrug of your shoulders, curiosity and doubt written all over your dollish features “well, yes, I've only read about it in some of my books, but…”

at your words, his eyes grew more affectionate, you were adorable to him. He almost felt bad for wanting to ravish a pretty innocent angel like you. But he was going to pamper you like the most delicate flower afterwards.

“alright, angel, no rush. I’ve got scars older than you, princess, so,” the sound of his hands rustling with the buckle of his belt caught your attention, your eyes falling on his large hand that promised to unlock a whole new dimension to you. “lets start with sumthin’ easy for this lil’ dove. On your back, come on.”

how about the opposite? John being jealous of his girl getting hit on by a younger guy perchance ?

ohhh cupcake, daddy price would be livid :) when you get jealous it’s all fun and cute, but when he does? hooff

let’s say you were working that day, but the bar was pretty quiet, therefore, you’d found a moment to read in peace, completely lost in the escapism and beauty of your book.

your chin rested on your palm, elbow pressed against the wooden surface of the countertop as you leaned forward to get a better view of the pages — still standing, you shifted nimbly on your own position, using the edge of the counter to keep yourself steady. “pretty and a reader, heavenly match”

you lifted your head, flipping the page of your book without even casting a glance down — a guy stood in front of you, a half smile plastered on his completely shaved face. You had never seen him, he must’ve been a new costumer.

“Good evening, sorry, do you want to order?” you quickly and carefully close the book down, pushing it closer to your chest. You apologized for not being aware of his presence, having been too caught up in your reading.

“Don’t apologize, you’re reading in a pub…maybe I could get a drink in a library?” he smiled boyishly, cocking his brow and leaning against the counter.

you let out a light laugh his joke, finding it funny. The sound echoing through the bar, limpid and melodic.

“yes, I admit I might’ve chosen the wrong setting,” you giggle, picking your pink notebook from the pocket of your skirt.

“what can I get you?” you asked politely, giving him an innocent smile — your gentleness and kindhearted nature always showed up. You didn’t know him, he looked older than you, probably in his late twenties, but his face seemed too young, too..clean. Too casual.

“you could start with your number, sweet cheeks”

your smile faltered for a moment, and you lowered your notebook down, clicking the back of the pen. “Oh, no, uhm..I’m flattered, but-“

“come on, you’re too cute to be all alone in a place like this,” he gestured behind him, throwing a playful wink your way. “besides, you could spend the night doing..something else other than…reading and working. Somewhere else, like my place, see if you’re as innocent as you look,”

he leaned his forearms against the counter, and you couldn’t help but feel distressed — you’d never found yourself in such a position, you wanted to refuse his advances, but remain kind.

“she’s spoken for, boy” you heard him before you saw him, the brooding figure that slowly appeared behind the guy.

john was huge, a mountain man, a big, brown bear, and he appeared more fearsome and intimidating than usual, looming down at the poor guy.

he didn’t wear his usual, signature half smirk, his mustache was completely still, and you could swear his jaw was clenched, tensed.

the guy turned towards him, perking his brows annoyedly “geez, who are you, mate, her father?” you almost widened your eyes at that, and you felt the need to intervene, much more to save that poor soul’s life.

john squinted his eyes down at him, the muscles on his neck bulging slightly as he inched closer, his voice as rough and sharp as a knife “this is not a place for sucklers, go get some warm milk elsewhere, toddler”

even you shivered at the tone of his voice, spine-chilling, dauntingly deep.

“what’s wrong with you, man? why don’t you mind your business?”

“she is my business, talk to her like that again, and I’ll make your milk teeth fall one by one, kid. Get out, you don’t wanna make an adult mad”

the guy scoffed, straightening his back and facing him, but john was as still as a statue, glaring down at him. He tilted his head, his dark, graying facial hair only giving him a darker, gloomy appearance. “Understood?”

something on the guy’s face changed, a glimpse of nervousness, unease written all over his features. He wasn’t smiling anymore, his lips glued together, his adam’s apple gulled with fear. john was a trained captain in the military, he could be very, very scary, in a grouchy, sulky and frightening way — I didn’t wish to see that guy end up unconscious on the ground — he only shook his head, stood taller and avoided meeting John’s eyes, lowering his own gaze before turning around and stroll to the way out, mumbling a quiet ‘whatever’

john followed him with his eyes, before setting them on you — you pressed your book to your chest, timidly looking at him with the purest eyes “are you mad, sir? promise you I didn’t say anything, he- he approached me and-

“never mad at you, precious” he walked closer until the countertop was the only thing separating us, and lifted his hand to place it underneath my jaw, fingers sprawling to grab it. “but don’t get scared if daddy gets rougher later, have to relieve some tension, princess”

you only blink, the promise of his words a thrill that sent butterflies flying around your poor belly, your cheeks grew red, pink like the strawberry milkshake you like so much.

he squeezed your jaw, giving you an expecting look, like a professor waiting for your to answer his question properly. “who do you belong to?”

a daily reminder, just to make sure you remembered all the time, didn’t forget.

“you, sir” you replied without even having to think, blinking your doe, big eyes at him, working your innocence to gain his attention.

“good girl, go back to your book, don’t need to work anymore today”

Being an older man’s type is just a different level of a confidence boost. Like yes please tell me how pretty and delicate I am. And how you’re so much older than me but you can’t help but be attracted to me. Older men will tell you all the ways you make them lose their minds and that is what I need in life.