Sugar Daddy!john Price X Sugar (cry)baby Soft!fem Reader, Laaaarge Age Gap, Price Is In His Late 40s

"honey, I have scars and tattoos that are older than you" I swear, my brain broke down and I read all your posts, thank you, I love you

hehe thank you teddy bear that’s my favorite line of mine as well ily ૮꒰ྀི∩ᵕ∩꒱ྀིა

just read your bio and omg… twin? just spent 30 min scrolling through your blog and omg…. twin? wait i already said that oops

hope you have a great day god bless🤍🎀

God bless you too angel muffin ily twin!!🤍🎀

i miss watching haikyuu during lockdown I miss watching haikyuu during lockdown I miss watching haikyuu during lockdown I miss haikyuu live laugh love haikyuu

reader + price somehow run into her family/ parents? Maybe they come to the bar or something but it’s awkward because her dad’s wondering why his daughter is with someone his age. better yet he’s her SUGAR DADDY. ormaybe it’s for Christmas/ new years. idk.

let’s just say you’ve moved abroad, as an exchange student working part time at the local bar of your sugar daddy, military captain, boss, john price, and you’ve never, ever told a soul about your relationship. The chance of anyone finding out is highly impossible, but what if your parents decide to surprise you for Christmas day and visit you at the bar?

you’ve been excited about Christmas, practically pleading john to let you decor the bar with cute, christmasy decorations. He didn’t care that much, wasn’t necessarily happy about seeing glittery ribbons everywhere, but he couldn’t say no to you, his little girl.

“what about a little mistletoe, daddy? we could hang it on the front door, so when couples come here they can kiss,” you beamed at the idea, looking up at him with gleaming, happy eyes while holding a box full of Christmas ornaments.

his brow perks up, a half, lazy smirk making his mustache twitch “we’re not hanging a mistletoe in my bar, doll”

you pout, placing the box down on the counter “why not? they’re so cute, and they’re elegant, delicate, it’ll blend in with the walls colors.”

john smirks at your whiny tone, and with a swift motion, he slips his arm around your waist, pushing you closer to him. He wraps his arm tight around your lower back, pressing your body against his “don’t need the mistletoe to kiss my girl whenever I want, doll”

you bite your lip to hide a little giggle, but he hungrily captures it with his mouth, crashing his lips against yours. Your back arches, and he leans closer to you, mouth devouring yours like a Christmas dinner, tongue delving deep and forcefully.

then you hear it. That familiar voice, engraved in your memory for years, you’d recognize it everywhere. You freeze, body tensing completely, and your head shifts to the side, as if struck by a lighting.

your parents are here.

at the bar, in the city.

you quickly push yourself away from john, trying to regain some composure. Your cheeks are completely on fire, and you hide your hand behind your back to try and subtly tug down at the hem of your skirt.

“dad,” you say, your voice holding all the mixing emotions, surprise, stupor and disbelief upon seeing them for the first time after months. You wish you could hide under a table. “mom, what are you doing here?”

but your father’s eyes are stuck on john — they fleck around the evident signs of symmetry, the thin wrinkles behind his eyes, the blooming gray on his dark hair and beard, recognizing what he saw in the mirror everyday himself.

the realization that his daughter was kissing a man his age, that could be her own father, stuck on him like a shot of cold, freezing water. For what he knows, they could’ve been colleagues. Childhood friends, even.

“honey, we thought we’d surprise you for Christmas, see how you’ve been doing” your mom is the first to break the ice, but her own disbelief in evident in the way she lets her eyes wander between you and john, who’s still standing behind you, the perfect example of self composure, discipline, being unfazed.

“you’ve flown all the way to the city?” you ask, shame making your words heavy on your tongue. You love your parents, but coming without any forewarn has led to an unpleasant situation.

“wanted to see how it was doing at work, since it’s the holidays, and you live here all alone,” your dad speaks up, a voice that could cut through stone. John held his gaze confidently, knowing if there was a single man he had to at least pretend to show respect to, it was your father.

“but, you didn’t tell me” you mumble softly, and finally walk closer to them.

“it was a surprise” your mom says, pretending not to be affected by the sight of a man older than her, that had his arm wrapped around her young little daughter and was kissing her. She is, but she is good at hiding her emotions.

“w-well, I’m happy to see you, I was gonna call you on Christmas Day,” you shyly peek behind you, gesturing nervously towards John, your heart pounding in your chest. “this is my, uhm, my boss, john”

john strolls closer, walking past through and standing in front of your dad — he’s taller than your father, more muscular and broader, but the closeness in age is evident. John was probably even a bit older than your own father.

“Mr,” he acknowledges your dad, a short, military style greeting that doesn’t seem to please him. “it’s a pleasure”

you know him well enough to recognize that smug, cocky and arrogant tone behind his words, that half grin that hides behind his thick beard. No one could ever make john feel uncomfortable, not even seeing his unconventionally too young sugar baby’s father, with a look that threatens to kill him.

maybe they could become friends, and that way, you could officially be living the ‘dad’s friend’ trope with your sugar daddy. He’s ready to have the ‘your daughter calls me daddy too’ conversation, gosh, if he knew the things he’s done to you, how he’s been treating his little girl, how angrier would your dad look right now?

bar owner price getting hit on by some woman who’s not reader pleaaaaase 🙏 (fluffy or smutty idk)(both perchance)

thank you for requesting this flower blossom!! I hope to live up to the expectations, its longer than I planned it to be, but enjoy your freshly baked pie!🍰

warnings: sugar daddy price, sugar baby fem!reader, slight sliiiight public play, jealousy, laaarge age gap! price is in his 40s and reader is 21, ringed hand! oopsie!

you were sweet and kind, yes, but oh weren’t you the jealous type.

dammed be that time you’d asked price if you could still ‘help around the bar’ when it got too busy, when you could’ve simply been sitting on his lap, read a book and be his little sugar baby in peace. you rubbed a tablecloth against the already crystal shining bottle of whatever rich liquor bottle were holding, mind and eyes completely elsewhere — the night had started pretty good, John had been busy discussing with his teammates about the next upcoming mission, and you had been dusting off the countertop, all ribboned and dolled up.

but, just as little bunnies could catch the tiniest shift in the environment and put their senses in alert, ears twitching upward, stilling in their tracks, as the night went on, you could feel something, no, someone that didn’t please your inner senses.

you carefully placed the half filled glass on the tray, eyes shifting to where John was sitting. His ringed, left hand held up his usual poison, scotch with no ice, but Simon wasn’t sitting in front of him, nor was Gaz, or Johnny.

no, an older, clearly attractive woman was — everything about her poured an uneasy feeling down your spine, the way she was practically eye-eating john up, not even trying to hide her obvious smirk, shamelessly undressing him with her eyes.

you blinked, dumbfounded, towards her. She was everything you were not, generously gifted curves wise, confident, and conventionally attractive. If you were a bunny, she was a whole panther.

she leaned herself closer, practically squeezing her chest up to him, her lips mouthing something you couldn’t quite catch from here, but John wasn’t looking at her, his eyes were focused down on his glass, the tip of his finger distractingly tracing the circular edge of the glass.

he literally owned the bar, he could simply make her leave and do you a huge favor, right?

you let out a shaky breath, feeling the familiar sensation of warm, burning roots of jealousy creep up your chest and paint your cheeks red. Your throat stung, welcoming in the feeling that almost made you want to stomp your foot on the ground like bunnies did when they were upset and offended.

you angrily picked up the tray, walking down towards the costumer who’d been waiting for his order. He was sitting a few seats away from them, and despite your crippling frustration, you smiled at him softly, placing his drink down.

“could show you a great time, big bear”

you stilled at that luring, seductive voice, your smile faltering when you heard her words. You hated the way it sounded, the way she dared to use a nickname on him. Only you could.

she winked at him, and stood up, her clothes revealing enough to leave little to the imagination. Great, you’d have to ask Johnny to get you some ice cream so could eat it while crying over yourself. You heard her heels clink distantly, towards the back of the bar, down to the bathrooms, and you straightened your back, a flustered, annoyed expression on your usual soft, smiling face.

taking the empty tray back with you, you walked past John, ready to hide yourself behind the counter and brood all night long about what had just happened — your own heels sounded louder than usual, each step trying to ease up some pent up sparks of anger,

“doll” the gruff, deep voice called from behind you, low and heavy. You stopped, still not facing him, halfway past him. You frowned, waiting a few seconds before turning towards him and start walking again,

one, two, three, four steps until you were in front of him. He was looking up at you, eyes always so impossibly intense, you could never tell what he was thinking, always so impassible, self assured and keeping his composure.

that’s when your juvenile immaturity came out. You crossed your arms together, shifting your position imperceptibly, yet little enough that he could see the light tilt of your hip. Now it was his time to stare, his eyes warm like the golden liquid he’d been drinking, taking greedily in every inch of your feminine, short uniform.

“what, sir? do you need an ashtray?” you questioned, your sweet voice tinted with an uncharacteristic sarcasm as you blinked down at him.

oh, he loved seeing you like this. A part of him got off at seeing you all pent up and flustered. His brow perked, the side of his mustache twitching up amusedly — your eyes fell onto his lap when he shifted, parting his legs and shifting his hips upwards, spreading his thighs wide. He brought his free hand down and patted his lap twice, gesturing for you to sit down.

the sight made you flush, your cheeks grew red and your belly twisted with a warm knot, you could feel your panties already growing wet, but you remained resilient for an instant. “I can’t, I’m working”

“you can if I say so” he didn’t leave any room up for questioning, muttering the words out like an order, knowing well enough you always did whatever he told you to — you were his good girl, after all.

you bit the inside of your cheek, and sighed. You were annoyed, jealous, you didn’t care how immature it seemed. You turned around, sitting yourself down into his lap.

his arms quickly crossed around your waist, pushing you closer against him. He drank quietly from his glass, eyes studying your crossed arms, your red cheeks, and pout.

that’s what made bunnies all worked up then…

“easy, pet” John chuckled, warning you so gently with a tone that made you shiver on his lap, his warm breath fanning over your neck, “eyes on you, love,” he murmured, his hand sliding from your waist all the way down your short, tight skirt, resting uninvitedly between your thighs “always.”

he was wolfishly trying to soothe you, trying to mold your mind into reassurance.

”but she doesn’t know it,” you replied, and John almost grinned at how adorably you looked and sounded, always so polite, quiet and sweet, he’d never seen you quite this annoyed.

that woman chose that exact moment to come back from the bathroom, and price could feel your body tense up against his, tense and nervous. She slowed her tracks upon seeing you all curled up on his lap, a glint of realization crossing past her and a frown decorating her face.

“shh, sweetheart,” John murmured gravelly against your ear, but you were a bundle of nerves. He sipped from his glass — eyes narrowing at the woman across the room. He slid his hand further down, slipping right underneath the hem of your skirt, brushing up and down your thigh without going up too high in the public setting.

you held your breath, your cheeks burning a bright red, and turned your head to look down at him. He set his drink down, and with an unexpected movement, he gripped your thigh and pulled you harshly closer to him. “wait, sir-“

“look at me, doll”

you did.

“who gets to have me every day, anytime she wants?” he rasped quietly, his gravel voice making you clench your thighs against his hand. His tone had been clear, he wanted you to answer him. “answer me, sweetheart.”

“i-i do” you blubbered out, arms no longer crossed, but on both sides of his legs.

“who do i take home with me, to my bed, to the back of this bar, every night?” his hand travelled higher, brushing against the hem of your panties, the cold metal of his rings against your clothed clit. You could feel a hardness underneath your lower back, and you blushed at the feeling of his erection pressed against you, almost fighting the urge to grind against it.

“me, sir…” you breathed out, your pent up frustration and jealously slowly being replaced with other feelings.

“who gets daddy like this?” he accentuated his words with a subtle buck of his hips against you, making you swallow back a whine at the feeling of his hardened, clothed length underneath the fabrics of his trousers.

“m-me, sir…”

“good girl, she wants what she cannot have,” he twisted two fingers, pressing the hard material of his rings against your panties, making you trap and bite down on your bottom lip. The thin hem of your skirt covered that act to the outsiders, hiding it from peering eyes. “can stare all she wants, daddy’s all yours, bunny”

with a swift motion, he put his hand underneath your chin, and tilted your head up towards his. “behave f’me, love, ‘aight? no need to be jealous”

you’re still pouting, a shy, annoyed bunny that was just clingy and needy, could you blame her? You nodded and he leaned back on the sofa chair, veiny, hairy hand distractingly caressing your thigh, not venturing too far.

you hadn’t even realized that the woman had left the bar, mind too focused on John’s hands and words, but before you could say something, he tapped your thigh twice. “now, get up and go to my office, need to help daddy fix what you’ve caused”

captain price was a man full of energy, he had no intention of retiring anytime soon — his role as a captain, a soldier, a leader who could make anyone tremble in their tracks with a single lowly spoken order, or even a glance of his eyes. Intimidating, gruff, charismatic, he thrived on the effect he had on anyone. Such an important and authoritative man deserved a distraction though, something to indulge his free time in, something he could use his dominance for without needing to hold a rifle or a weapon.

what other way than teaming up with his mates, his good ol’ soldiers, to open up a bar. Not any local bar, nothing as filthy and disgusting as the ones you could find hidden all over the secretive streets of London. No, something classy, something quiet, neat, where busy people like him could spend some spare time drinking whiskey and smoking cigars, to embrace a oh, so deserved break from his intense job. Once opened, bar “141” had found itself a brooding, bulky captain as owner and — therefore — boss.

and when the sweet, shy, innocent girl who’d been looking for a part time job to pay off her student loans found the newly-opened bar, what better opportunity than trying to walk past her shyness and actually ask if they “needed someone to serve drinks, sir?”

and who was captain price, a true gentleman, to deny that delicate, innocent bunny who’d stumbled upon his bar and was now looking up at him with her doe, shimmering eyes? Oh he could use a pretty thing like her, just having her walking around those walls would be enough. He’d make sure she was safe and settled, taken care for.

“need anything you have to offer me, sweet thing. Welcome to 141”

This figure of Levi is too much for my heart and my empty pocket.

me because when you babies send me requests you always give me cute compliments and call me bunny girl ily

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?”

You're my favourite bunny <3

-🎀

ohh im flattered ribbonbaby you’re making me blushhh omgosh thank you <33