Bar Owner!john Price X Soft Waitress!fem Reader

grumpy old man 🤝 always happy, easily excited young girl who's still full of childlike wonder he has a soft spot for

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.

i don’t know if you’ve written about this, but I can imagine dbf!john leaning towards you when his rabbit isn’t talking too loudly to be overheard, and tugging on the little loops of her denim skirt to pull her a little closer... and I think there are some sparkles on his clothes from his doll, who found herself some strawberry-scented glitter perfume.

requested by @anattami 🍎

dads best friend!john price and his soft, bunny girl can indulge in each other’s presence with subtle gestures, silent yearning, hidden and lingering touching. especially at a family gathering, or when your dad’s around. if your father invited him over for a barbecue, to have dinner together, dbf!john would have to act distant, like you’re just a little girl, a kid he knows through your father, who happens to be a longtime friend. brooding, detached, like he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence.

but when no one’s looking, he slips into your personal space, looming over you like a damn bodyguard. he notices when you stop talking because whomever you were talking to wasn’t really listening, when you speak quietly not to be overheard. he hooks his rough fingers into the loops of your denim skirt, subtly yet firmly pulling you closer to him, until your back presses against his chest, and your breath hitches. a silent, imperceptible movement that no one seems to notice.

when no one’s looking, dbf!john would lean over the table to grab a beer and subtly lean closer to you while you’re sitting reading a book, in your own little world, to whisper a low, deep “look pretty today, bunny, cute skirt.”

and he definitely doesn’t miss the way you tense your thighs together when he speaks with such a rough, gruff tone. the way your cheeks bloom red, flushing timidly.

or when dbf!john grabs you by the waist to move over, passing by you. squeezes your hips for a short moment, making you almost stumble and pour your iced strawberry juice all over your sundress.

like the old gentleman he is, dbf!price follows you to the garage to help you carry water bottles to the back yard, but those are long forgotten on the bench when he picks you up and effortlessly sits you on the flat table next to the fridge, gets between your parted, sweet thighs and devours your mouth, tongue and lips kissing yours with all the pent up restrain.

you throw your arms around his neck, locking your legs around his waist to pull him closer, whimpering between the rough, heavy kiss. he grunts against your lips, his tongue pushing against yours as he takes as much as he can within the short time he has.

and now, his his dark shirt is littered with sparkling glitters, shining like tiny twinkles that your strawberry glitter perfume roll has left on him — you put some on your wrists and your neck, but now you’ve left a trace of it all over him.

“always a good girl for your old man, mmh, bunny?” he practically growls against your mouth, steady and scarred hands holding you by your waist. “there she is, all f’me,”

you nod, breathless, pink cheeks bright and warm under his hungry gaze. he can only take advantage of these short moments, when no one’s around — you can’t even speak, far too fuzzy and dizzy, shy and looking at him like a lost, delicate bunny with those doe lashes. he needs to be careful, quick. he has to haste, he knows he can’t do these things, he’s not a good man. guilt and desire block his throat and he reluctantly slows the kiss.

it’s like indulging in something he knows he can’t do, he shouldn’t, just for a short moment.

“good girl, doll, my angel, minding her business, always so quiet,” another kiss, heavy, longing, “sweet as sugar. aight, back there, gonna make your pa worry,” he pats your thigh playfully, letting you take a little jump to stand on the floor, brushing down the layers of your skin to recompose yourself, still too red and embarrassed to say anything.

he picks three bottles of water with one arm, winks at you and strolls back to the yard, still smelling like you, vanilla and strawberry.

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”

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?”

your blog is so cuuute!! hop hop hop!! it makes me think of price absolutely loving to have his hands on you at any given moment you two are together because he is all rough and hard edges so you're like his little bunny stress ball he can squish squish squish <3

ohhh my goshhh yesss his hands are on you all the time, calloused from his heavy labor in the military, used to holding and carrying heavy weapons and rifles — they’re thick, large, heavy and hairy over the wrists, and you love his fingers, rough and warm and often ringed

he’s always groping you though ;(<3 squeezing your chin, pinching your cheek, when you’re sitting on his lap, his hands are always trialing up and down your inner thighs, massaging the skin and squeezing it like his personal stress bunny ball ;( under your skirt, tracing a path from your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up again — he does it so casually, a firm, lazy, non sexual reminder of his dominance over you, or to relax with something soft and squishy.

when he walks past you, he always slides his arm around your waist and hip, giving you a gentle squeeze before strolling away to wherever he’s headed to, or when someone calls for him, he puts his large hands on your waist, bending his arms and softly moving you to the side, muttering a “be right back, love”

bunnies love being pet on their cheeks and on their butts. same goes for you. you love when he holds your red, blushing warm cheeks with both his hands, feeling every scar and skin texture of his healed wounds against your face as he squeezes them together, the cold metal of his rings almost leaving his print on your skin “look at my sweet, good girl..”

when you’re working behind the bar and he walks by, he always lands a delicate smack on your butt, making you joint and blush, glaring at him “daddy! hey!”

“what? am i not allowed to touch my bunny?”

you’re his personal squishy toy.

“stop that, a costumer might come in” you quickly try to regain composure, rummaging back with the cups to make sure every glass is neatly placed, your long hair covering the way your cheeks are burning bright and red. “angel, i own this place, i can do whatever i want with my little girl if i want to”

or let’s say you’re reading your lovely books on his lap while he’s working on some military top secret paperwork, one hand is busy writing down and the other one is on your legs, swinging on his sides — he just needs to have his hands on you aaaall the time, brushing your hair, caressing it, squishing your waist, your hips, because he’s so tough and grumpy and rough around the edges and you’re just so malleable and soft like a stuffie :(

I can't keep it to myself anymore. I need to tell you this, to get UT off my chest.

I think you're the CUTEST, most ADORABLE human being ever. You're so cutee and I love reading your little fics and I want to eat you whole. Bet you taste like strawberries.

Sorry if that came out creepy but I can't keep it to myself. The cuteness aggression I feel towards you is too much and I just want to hug you till you pop

Again I'm sorry if that sounds creepy and I hope you have a beautiful day/night as your beautiful self♡♡♡♡

nghhhHHHH oh my gosh you have no idea how much i appreciate this message butterfly <3 im blushing so so hard— i do in fact taste like strawberries lol!! thank you im genuinely flattered thank you sweet cupcake ily ily ily!!! im such a physical and affectionate girl i could hug anyone all day long. do you wanna be frenss 🐇

What if for dads bsf, he comes on a family trip to the beach with you and your father.

You in your bikini, the sneaked glances when your dad isn't looking. MAYBE have him apply sunscreen on you!

dadsbf!old man john price in his late 40s n young, innocent sweet fem!reader who’s 21

you’ve always been a mountain lover, sunny countryside and green lavish trees filled you with the warmest joy, but just like he would any other summer, your dad has forced you to come to the beach with him, stating that ‘vitamin d is important’, but what convinced you is that you can just lay down, read your book and sip chill cold cocacola in peace, especially since your dads best friend john price is coming with you

laying happily under the cozy shadow of a colorful umbrella, heart shaped glasses and a book in your hand, your reading is cradled by the gentle hum of the wind moving through the waves, but you find it hard to focus on the lines on the paper as your eyes keep moving towards him — his muscular, buff, hairy chest is wet, burly and decorated with a few scars, his dark, graying hair and beard kissed by the sun as he shook his head, thin drops of water falling over the sand.

you take a shaky breath, feeling your cheeks grow warm and red, brighter than the sun, and quickly look away, blushing hard and feeling bad for staring so much — but gosh, he’s the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, so bulky and mature, aged in the most handsome way.

you toss over the towel, shifting position and continuing reading, already too caught up in the book to notice the looming and lurching shadow above you, that covered the sun rays — you tilt your head, and there he is, bundle of muscles, thick beard and intimidating, pure masculine energy.

“enjoying your book, love?” he asks playfully, his voice rough and low, quirking his brow as he let his eyes travel down your figure, shamelessly staring over your legs and adorable, vintage style bikin, all frills and ribbons — he sets his warm eyes back on your face, “what are you reading, Lolita?”

your cheeks are burning like flames, and you feel like you’re steaming with the hot air around you “m not, sir,”

he only laughs, a short, deep chuckle, before he tilts his head towards the water behind him “not gonna take a swim, doll?”

“dont think so, haven’t put on sunscreen yet..” you nibble on your bottom lip, head elsewhere, before you reach out to heap your bottle of coke “was waiting for someone to help me open this, can you help me sir, please?”

you give him big, doe eyes, your puffy lips parted slightly as your dolly features look up at him with such a tender, innocent look he needs to ignore how uncomfortable and suddenly tight his wet shorts feel.

“of course, doll face,” he takes it from your hands, opens it with a tiny, effortless twist of his large hand and hands it over to you, giving you a slight wink — you flame up under his gaze, and quickly bring the bottle up to your lips, mumbling a shy “thank you, sir”

the first sip is the best one, cold and frizzy bubbles running down your throat as you savor them — you let your eyes mindlessly set on him as you drink, almost choking with the coke when you notice how his own sharp ones are stuck on your lips wrapped around the bottle.

you swallow, placing the bottle down — your dad is swimming cluelessly back in the sea, near the limit of the string of buoys marking the swimming area, out of sight and of reach.

“need me to put sunscreen on you, princess, can’t have your delicate skin get burned now,” he says it almost like a command, stating it like you don’t have a voice in the matter and that makes your heart flutter — he brings his authoritative, caring and dominating attitude everywhere he goes, even when he’s not working, he’s a soldier in control of his surroundings inside and outside of the field.

“don’t wanna bother you sir, but thank you, alright..” you just blink, carefully placing your book down next to you and laying on the sandy towel, practically giving and serving yourself to him. he almost grunts at the sight, you, so young, too young, sweet and modest in your bikini, always dainty and refined.

“never bother me, sweet girl, stay still for old price, good girl” he grips — yes, grips — the sunscreen hardly and bends over one knee, applying it on both hands before starting to smear it over your skin, your arms, your legs and then your thighs. you almost gasp at the contact, his hands have always looked calloused, rough and scarred, like sandpaper, but they feel so good, warm and large against your skin.

he remains silent as he lower his hands and gently squeezed your thighs, a silent request, which you immediately followed by parting your thighs to him, still laying on your back — his hands apply the sunscreen on your inner thighs, close to where you ache the most, where you want him, but your bashfulness prevents you from addressing this need.

his thick fingers distractedly brush over your clothed clit, making you let out a soft, tiny sound, that sounded like a strangled whine and a little sigh — his eyes shoot out, completely and utterly in control, but when he spreads more cream next to your needy spot, you involuntarily buck your hips against his hand, making him clench his jaw and mutter down a restrained, growly “careful, doll, be a good girl and don’t move, said stay still”

you swallow back your embarrassment, your cheeks red and bright, whole face on fire as he shifts his hands on your tummy, caressing it and smearing more white cream on your flat chest, between your tiny, small boobs that are raising and falling with every hard breath.

“feel good, doll?”

you nodded, unable to say anything, but you wanted him to kiss you, to just take you however he pleased “yessir”

“good, on your tummy f’me now, come on” he pats your leg, and you quickly turn around, closing your eyes when you feel his large hands on your back, applying your cream — you arch your back against his fingers, earning a deep, amused chuckle from him.

“look at you, love, stretching yourself like a bunny, huh?”

you nod again, but this time, your eyes shoot open when you feel his thick mustache and beard pressed against the skin of your shoulder, pressing a light, small and tickling kiss — he lowers his hand and playfully pats your bottom, caressing it before drifting back. “done, love, all nice and safe.”

you’re left like this, blushing and wide eyed, watching him take a sip from your bottle of coke, and you can’t help but let your romantic mind think this is an indirect kiss.

oh to be called princess by this logan howlett…

I pray you’re overwhelmed by the perfect love and abundant grace of Christ Jesus as you call upon His name, surrender all pride, doubts or fears and depend on Him.💗

God bless you, pookie.