Dbf! John Texting His Little Bunny But He’s Lwk Old So It’s So Cute How He Texts And Doesn’t Understand

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT2Hm27pm/

i saw this and thought of your blog IMMEDIATELY 😋

*inhales* THIS IS MEEEEEEE oh my gosh im being serious this is literally me im screaming🍓

young, innocent and soft bunny reader crying on sugar daddy!old man john price’s lap because she doesn’t want to learn how to pay taxes and run grown ups’ errands and john just wiping away her tears with his rough fingers but with a dumbfounded look because “doll, you never had to and never will???” you can just be his little princess, his lap bunny, and let your big, strong old man handle all the adult stuff ;,(

im eating strawberries right now! my grandpa has bought them for me, and i look like this

also, im currently reading finale, and i don’t want it to end cause i love this book series so much, i know I’ll be in the biggest book reading hangover after caraval is over ໒꒰ྀི˃ ⤙ ˂ ꒱ྀིა julian is my absolute favorite character like i need him??? he’s so charmingly handsome? and scarlett oh my baby she’s so me…sniff

wahh omg your first smut fic was so so so good bunny 💗💗!! finally catching up on reading ur work and I'm so so happy you've been so active! make sure to get some good rest too, this lent 💗 prayers n blessings always

thank you cheesecake God bless you!!💕🍰

purposefully teasing price when the bars busyyy🫣 bending over the tables at the bar insisting that you’re just trying to scrub a stubborn spot on the table. maybe leaning too close against the bar and the customers can’t help but stare. And John is pissed at them, not his baby of course. Wearing a little Henley with a lace cami and the tiniest skirt aahahhhhh

oh my gosh im absolutely feral over this, love this request sm help me im short circuiting—

🍓| warnings: slightly suggestive and smutty, fem!sugar baby reader, sugar daddy!bar owner price, he’s in is 40s and reader is 21, LAARGE age gap cause it’s my fav thing, lolie.

you are the subbiest bunny to daddy!price, a blushing, obedient good girl that shies away from every single glance, word and action of his — he’s so dominant and authoritative, you get like putty in his hands :(( but every once in a while, you decide to use your innocence against him.

the bar’s veery busy, swarming with people and huddled with costumers, you and price haven’t even had time to be loveydovey yet :,(

wearing the new cutest little Henley shirt, with lace cami and a lil ribbon in the middle, and the tiniest, shortest skirt in your wardrobe, you serve drink after drink, walking carefully to prevent yourself from tripping on your heels.

price looks at you from the counter, leaning over it and keeping his eyes steady on you, as if he was studying the target’s every move on the field — he notices the way you bend over the few empty seats, slightly lifting a heeled foot up as you try and scrub a beer stain on the surface, and his eyes can’t help but fall on you bottom, the way it’s barely covered by the material, and it always happens to face towards his direction.

his hand grips the glass hard, the veins of his hand bulging at how tight he’s holding it, and he has to contain himself because if he breaks it, you’ll have more work to do.

or when you lean over the bar, too close to the costumers for his liking. He knows you’re an innocent, good girl, you’d never play around with fake flirting with others, because you find it immature and unfair. But you’re so damn sweet and polite — gosh, always smiling nicely at costumers and casually chatting with them, they’re naturally drawn to you, the sunshine of the bar.

when you lean closer to hear their order over the loud 70’s rock music, their eyes wander, and price wished he could hold them by their collar and escort them outside, kicking them out just for looking at you a way he didn’t approve.

oh, but you notice the effect you have on him, it makes you blush, giggle girlishly to yourself, the way he stands like a hawk, shamelessly staring at you while he seeps his drink — knowing you’re his, and he has you all to himself.

you often pretend to stumble on your own, while carrying a light tray, just as you walk past by so he can wrap his arm around your waist and catch you, helping you balance yourself. “ooopsie, sorry, sir” you blink sweetly, smiling at him and strolling away towards the table, his eyes fixed on that damn mini skirt that he doesn’t know wether to love or hate.

when he finally decides to take a seat on a stool, a tactical seat to keep a keen eye on the entire room, facing the crowdy tables, you decide to play a lil game — you need your notebook that’s laying next to him, so why not bend over his lap, stretching to grab it, giving him a full close up view of your butt?

but he’s had enough. He grabs you harshly by the waist, tugging close until you almost trip for real this time, and find yourself plopped onto his lap.

“im done with your little games, sweetheart, quit playing” he mutters against your ear, lowly, deeply and roughly “practically begging daddy to take you, mmh, doll? you’re having fun?”

you shiver at the threatening voice, and you look at him innocently, but before you can say anything, he gives your hips a warning squeeze. “stop teasing me or you’ll end up being spanked here, on the counter, and you know I’ll do it.”

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.

oh noooooo i just found your account and i’m already obsessed with how you write Daddy!Price 🫣

i have a silly little idea for you if you maybe want to…

Price making you cuddle a stuffed animal while he overstimulates you with perhaps some aftercare tee hee…

literally me writing this vv

love love love love this thought 😵‍💫😵‍💫 brrr! please PLEASE if you have more reqs like this WRITE THEM DOWN!!

Daddy!price would hand you one of your many plushies, his bare, muscular hairy chest pressed against your back as he stills his rough, hard slams for a moment.

“which one do you wan’, poppet?”

you’re a blushing mess, puffy, red cheeks stained with pearly tears, sticking to your face :( you can’t even gather your thoughts at the question, but you tilt your head towards your stuffies collection and mumble a soft, shaky “b-bunny”

of course you’d choose your favorite one, you were a soft bunny yourself, after all, his bunny.

he grunts in response and reaches over to grab your plushie, handing it to you while he shifts you around effortlessly, manhandling you however he pleases. Your back presses against the mattress, and you quickly take the stuffie from his hand, squeezing it against your chest, using it as a emotional — and physical — support.

“hold onto bunny and cuddle him, aight? show him how good daddy makes you feel” he grunts heavily, a raspy, gravel tone that makes you wonder if his voice didn’t hurt. He places both hands at the side of your angelic face, hovering over you with his massive, huge bundle of muscles, before slamming right back into you, making you whine and hug your plushie tighter. he slams his hips against yours harshly, he’s not gentle, never is because you don’t want him to be. His thick length fills you up completely, over and over again, you’ve lost count of how may times he’s made you finish already :,(

you feel overwhelmed, each sense completely overtaken by him, his scent, his rough touch, his weight, his cock that reaches all the way down your belly, you’re a dizzy, fuzzy mess, only blurting out incoherent whimpers, sniffling and sobbing as you hugged the stuffed animal with your body.

“look how far daddy has reached, baby” he presses his scarred, large hand over the belly bulge, and you can feel him deeper. “can you feel daddy here? show bunny, come on”

you hide your face behind your plushie, his soft long ears shifting against you with every rough slam of price’s hips. You hold onto it as if your life depends on it, finding comfort in the softness of his faux fur, the warmth of his plush against your body, while price ravishes your body completely, every slam harder and more intense.

“daddy, daddy, daddy, ‘m tired, please, wanna- wanna-“

“you wanna stop, babygirl? but daddy’s almost there, come on, bunny thinks you can do it, he knows you’re such a good girl for me” every word is gravel, husky and deep, murmured in between heavy groans,

you tilt your face towards the mattress, squeezing the stuffy with both hands, and let out a long whine, sobs and sniffles that sound like the sweetest symphony to him.

“just one more for your old man, can you give it to me angel? come on, make daddy and bunny proud”

and when you do finish with a soft, breathless gasp and he releases himself with a deep, heavy growl, that vibrates through his chest like a rumble, you feel him twitch inside of you, before pulling out and looking down at you, softness and warmth filling his intense, sharp eyes.

“did so good for daddy, princess, always so good” he brings a hands to your cheek, brushing away some loose strings of hair that stick to your sweaty face, his motions gentle and caring now, as if scared to hurt you or break you. His breath is rugged, heavy pants that threaten to bring you to desire all over again.

you lift your arms, tired and sore all over, one hand still holding bunny and the other one closing an opening repeatedly, urging for him to cuddle you silently.

“wan’ a hug princess? come here” he easily picks you, practically carrying you on top of him effortlessly, yet carefully enough not to hurt you when he hears you wince softly, hissing lightly — your legs, your princess parts, your wrists, they hurt, but John was a gentleman, he treated you like the softest, most delicate princess, he was only harsh and rough, very rough, during intimate moments.

his large hands cradle your bare back, caressing you as you snuggle against him, keeping your plushie between your bodies — you sniffle, nudging your cheek against his shoulder. He is so burly, big and hairy, he feels so warm and hard at the same time.

“that’s it, thaaat’s it, my good girl, you’ve been so good, my precious princess, baby. Come here, I’ll run you a warm bath, aight? get your favorite lollipop, you need some sugar in your body. Daddy’s so proud of you, angel”

“want cuddles..” you murmur softly against him, throwing your limp arms around his strong neck — he chuckles, a deep warm and affectionate chuckle as he presses a kiss against your hair. He holds you tighter, his beard tickling your reddened cheeks. “whatever you want, princess.”

you're soooo strawberry milk coded. imagine price never in his life ever thought strawberry was anything special until he met you. suddenly everywhere he looks he'll notice anything strawberry-themed and thinks of you. suddenly he sees strawberry as something special <3 because of all the strawberry milkshakes you love to drink, the strawberry desserts, and your strawberry perfume, he's obsessed with strawberries now

this is so self projecting because you’re so right cupcake omg, all my friends call me their strawberry bunny because im obsessed with strawberries🍓 :,)) thank you bby for sending this!!

before he met you, strawberry had always only been a fruit to him, pretty and bright, yes, but simply a mere fruit. but now, ever since meeting you and becoming your daddy (your lover), he sees strawberries everywhere, and they always remind him of you. strawberries are special now, you’ve made them special. before he met you, strawberry had always only been a fruit to him, pretty and bright, yes, but simply a mere fruit. but now, ever since meeting you and becoming your daddy (your lover), he sees strawberries everywhere, and they always remind him of you. strawberries are special now, you’ve made them special.

🍓 maybe it’s the bright red color, that reminds him of how your cheeks blush when you’re with him, shy and sweet. 🍓it’s your favorite perfume, you leave a sweet sugary scent behind you anywhere you go, smelling like strawberry cake. 🍓your favorite dessert, are always made of strawberries. strawberry shortcake, strawberry tiramisu, even those drinks you love so much, like strawberry iced tea or strawberry milkshake. he’s learned them all for when you go out on a date. 🍓you have so many strawberry themed things, shirts, earrings, keychains, your phonecase, stickers. 🍓when you kiss him, he can taste the strawberry lip gloss against his lips, staining his mustache and beard. 🍓you crave them all the time, the moment spring comes, you immediately ask him to go to the grocery store to “pretty please get me a box of strawberries, daddy?” 🍓always sipping strawberry milk when you’re reading your lovely books on the bed, on the couch, even on his lap.

he just can’t help but see them everywhere now, commercials, fabric patterns at any store, random trinkets. he knows how mi h you love strawberries, and it makes him chuckle, it’s endearing really, in the most adorable way. you could literally upturn the entire world for him, even the meaning of a simple fruit.

dads best friend!john price who tries to concentrate on the conversation he’s having with your dad, but his eyes and focus can’t help but slip away and somehow set on you, how innocent and cute you look reading your book in your little flowery skirt and summery shirt, he’s in his late 40s and you’re barely 21 :,(

you were too shy to introduce yourself, hence why your father finally decided to do that for you, slamming his hand on his friend’s shoulder playfully, looking your direction while he handed him a beer “my golden girl, always has her nose stuck in a book,”

a little bookworm bunny, then, john thought.

and when you father went to the garage to get the necessary equipment for the barbecue, you stood up to get yourself another fresh, bubbly can of strawberry lemonade, closing the book down and placing it on the table as you hopped over the kitchen — when you came back outside, your heart almost stopped beating, sinking to your stomach as you saw your dad’s friend holding your book open, mindlessly reading where you’d placed your bookmark, slightly cocking his brows upward with interest.

you felt your cheeks burn, blushing a bright red as you walked and stopped right next to him, “uhm, that’s— that’s my book, sir” you mentally hoped he didn’t get to that part that you had reached, but the way his sharp, warm eyes slowly set on you, with a amused, entertained expression that exuded confidence and composure, told you otherwise. gosh, you were so embarrassed.

“don’t worry your pretty head, love, nothing i haven’t done already” his voice was so, so deep, rough and low, a gruff huskiness that made you blush even more, shivers run down your bare legs,

“is that what you’re reading, sweetheart? does your father know? arent you too young to read about these things?”

oh my gosh, you wanted to drown in that strawberry lemonade and never come back.

“it’s— it’s private, books are a personal thing and—“ you were just blubbering shyly at this point, but john only let out a dark chuckle, placing the book carefully down and lifting his hand to take a hold of yours. he brought it to his lips, pressing a gentle, warm kiss on your palm, never taking his eyes off you, like a true, old fashioned charming gentleman

“relax, doll, this old man’s only messin’ with you,” the feeling of his mustache against your skin was a tickling sensation, rough yet soft enough, “captain john price, beautiful, at your service, little one”

you blinked your puppy eyes at him, practically lovestruck, unable to move, your face turning into flames — swallowing back down, you gave him a polite, gentle little smile. “nice to meet you, sir,”

“pleasure’s mine, bunny” he grinned against your hand, planting one last kiss before gently putting it down and handing you your book back, with a look that promised many, many things, things a girl as young and innocent as you shouldn’t think about. oh gosh, you were in for such trouble.

“aren’t you too young to be working to afford your college all alone? doesn’t your daddy pay for his little girl’s education?”

you blush at the man’s question, he was a regular, and you know he has only asked out of mere curiosity, but it somehow makes you feel embarrassed. As you place the bottle of beer down on his the table and look at him, you notice the lack of judgment on his face, but a brush of concern and noisy inquisitiveness.

“oh, my daddy does pay for my education” you answer him politely, blinking down at him with your brows slightly raised as if your statement was the most obvious answer. Little does he know, the daddy you’re referring to isn’t your father, but john price, your boss, sugar daddy and owner of the bar.