Hi Bunny! How Are You?

hi lovelies, please request something I wanna write about daddy price sooo bad give me ideas pretty please 🐇

Don’t let shame distract you from the immense love Jesus has for you! He loves you so much! More than you could ever imagine. Nothing you could do or have done could ever separate you from His love!💗💫

oh to be called princess by this logan howlett…

i pray for peace to wash over my heart like waves on the shore. i pray for more patience, more warmth, move love, to fill me up. i pray for contentment over complaining. i pray for a calm acceptance of what God’s plan is for me. i pray you feel God’s energy when you’re around me.

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

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ random domestic scenes with old man sugar daddy!john price ⋆˚✿˖°

he snores. gosh you can’t stand it. at night, during your nighttime prayer, you hope to fall asleep before him so you won’t hear him snoring — but it rarely happens. in the middle of the night, you toss over and over on the side of the bed, until you let out a heavy sigh and practically shake his heavy, muscular and bulk body with your hand, “daddy. daddy. stop snoring, please, I can’t sleep.”

and when the sound gets too loud, you stand up silently, taking one of your plushies with you and go sleep on the couch.

if price wakes up and doesn’t find your tiny, young body next to his, he mutters something with his groggy, deep grouchy voice and comes straight to the living room, finding you curled up with a stuffie and a peaceful look on your face — but he can’t allow his pretty, little princess to sleep alone and leave her old, grumpy daddy alone in bed :( so he picks you up effortlessly with only one arm and carries you back to the bed, making sure he doesn’t wake you up so you won’t hear him snore again.

Dbf!john is soooooo father figure by George Michael

૮꒰ྀི ⸝⸝․․⸝⸝ ྀི꒱ა oh yes angel you get me!! old man dbf!john price is sooo father figure coded! I <3 this song 𐙚݁˖ ❀ ⋆｡˚

“That's all you wanted Something special, someone sacred In your life Just for one moment To be warm and naked At my side,

I will be your father figure Put your tiny hand in mine I will be your preacher teacher Anything you have in mind”

Hi sweetie!! i love the way you write price sooo freaking much!! truly you are amazing!! (sorry if it has any typos english is not my first language) what about price seeing reader crying and really upset after a customer were mean to her? said something rude or a mean comment on her appearance

hiii pudding!! absolutely do NOT apologize, and thank YOU sm for the compliments, they mean a lot to me cause I really hope you like what I write, I need validations and praise to function :,) love this idea, you’re just a sensitive emotional lil bunny, n big old daddy price wants to protect you from mean, rude ppl ;(

you love people, you’re basically a social butterfly, despite your shyness, you just love smiling at strangers and giving them compliments — that made working part time as a waitress easier, that until you found a rude costumer.

poor baby, you kept thinking everyone in this world was as nice and loving as you,

“can you make me a vieux carrè?” the costumer hadn’t even greeted you before he plopped on the barstool, and that already made you feel upset :(

“good evening,” you retort gently, picking your usual pink notebook up but not writing anything down yet “what…what is that?”

he frowned, the kind of look that you always wanted to hide from, judgment all over his face, like he was considering your lack of intelligence. hard for a girl who kept seeking for approval and praise.

“you don’t know what a vieux carré is?”

“uhm…” you shrugged timidly “no, im sorry, I don’t drink” you replied sheepishly, tempted to call one of the boys and let them handle this conversation “and I don’t make drinks here, I only serve them. Simon is the one who mixes-“

“so you’re dumb and useless?”

the word was blurted in such a spiteful manner that made you want to flinch, but you’d been taught to remain polite and kind even with people who were not — your poor, sensitive glass heart though, felt a tiny crack on its surface.

“they probably put you here only for your looks, if you can’t even make a damn drink” with every word he said, you felt more and more warmth invading your chest, your cheeks practically burned with heat, and the back of your throat stung, like hundreds of tiny needles poking through it.

he stood up with a heavy, bored sigh, grabbed his wallet and buried it right back into his pocket, but not without casting you a disapproving glance first, from head to toe. “as flat as a table, you’re not even useful for that”

another crack made your poor, fragile heart shatter down completely, and your eyes grew watery, the promise of upcoming pearly tears that laid still on your pupils, but that threatened to come down your rosy cheeks with a single blink.

they started pouring out when you hid in price’s empty office, knowing no one would find you there. You sniffled, quiet sobs that echoed around you and seemed to cling to you. You’d forgotten to take a handkerchief with you, the little, sweet tears staining the fabric of your uniform shirt.

“what bloody happened?” john’s voice was a deep grumble, thick with worry and confusion. You hadn’t heard him walk in, but that was his own office, and he hadn’t expected to find his pretty girl crying there.

“doll, what’s wrong?” he walked close to you, grabbing you by your waist and turning your body towards him. You keep sobbing silently, crystalline tears smudging your mascara and the glitters you’d put on your eyes.

“nothing, sir, ‘m, ‘m- fine, ‘s just..” tiny hiccups interrupted your feeble speech, and when you finally lifted your eyes to meet his, and he saw your doe, sweet eyes filled with tears, he wished he had brought his rifle with him — to shoot anyone who’d made his sweetheart cry.

price was a gentleman, he only ever wanted to see you cry from pleasure, not sadness.

“what happened, angel? come on, talk to daddy” he cupped your face with a large, warm hand, his thumb catching a tear that spilled out and wiping it away.

“that guy- he-he said i was dumb because i didn’t know how to make him a drink, I apologized, ‘n i know it’s my fault because i didn’t know if it was on the menu but..” your chin wobbled at the memory, your already weak self esteem had been completely crushed by that guy’s words. “he said that im useless and im..im flat as a table,”

john’s eyes hardened, his brows frowning as he listened to your explanation, and he clenched his jaw. You sniffled again, sobs that made his heart clench, and his free hand tickle with the need to punch him in the face. He was fuming, but had to confort you.

“oh, love” he murmured gruffly, his thumb wiping away some glitter from your tear stained cheeks. “oh sweetheart, come here”

lowering his hand he took yours in his, gently bringing you closer to him, walking towards the little sofa chair, the one he’d added to his office for when you wanted to read while he worked.

he sat down and brought your body on top of his, swinging your legs around his sides. You lifted you hands and rubbed your tears away, like bunnies did when they cleaned their soft faces ;,(

his hands rested on both of your legs as you sobbed, slowly moving up and down to caress your bare thighs. “doll, you’re the most beautiful angel I’ve ever seen, the prettiest little thing,” he filled your ears with reassurance, his rough, raspy and low voice speaking gentle and loving words to you. You blinked down at him, sad puppy dog eyes that pulled at the strings of his weary, war burdened heart — he’d seen the worst and cruelest things within his line of work and during missions, but nothing compared to seeing you cry on top of him.

he lifted his head and buried his face on your neck, his mustache tickling your skin as he left a trail of kisses all the way down to your chest, stopping where the neckline of your shirt set a limit to his affection. “the kindest, sweetest girl in the world, intelligent and smart, the cutest fuckin’ baby” he rasped those word between the kisses, against your flushed skin. “my princess, my pretty lap bunny, aren’t ya…”

“don’t ya worry your pretty little head over that meanie, alright, babydoll? He’s lucky I didn’t hear him, I would’ve cut his hands and shoved them down his thr-“

“daddy!” you called him out, a little laugh between the tears, finding his colorful language amusing. “don’t say that”

he grinned against your chest, pressing a kiss right where your heart was and looking up at you again. “listen to me, love. You’re the most precious girl that exists, don’t ever, ever doubt how beautiful and clever you are, understand daddy?”

you let your eyes fleck between his own, nibbling on your pouty lip, and nodded lightly.

“good girl, pup. Say it f’me.”

“I won’t..”

“that’s my girl. Give daddy a kiss, cmon”

you lowered your head and pressed a delicate kiss above his mustache, and when you pulled away, he brushed the back of his finger right under your eye. “no more tears, stay here and rest for a bit, daddy’ll get you some water”

needless to say, you did in fact snuggle up on the sofa, waiting for john to come back with your water — what was taking him so long?

just him finding out who that bastard who’d made you cry was. He’d found him sitting on a stool, complaining to his friend about the waitress — let’s just say that by the time he came back to you, his scarred hands weren’t cold anymore, but were red and pulsing, and Johnny and Gaz had found a way to relieve some boredom. only orders from the captain, after all.

‘’just make him regret what he said, aight boys? and don’t tell my missus, she’ll feel bad.”

bunny here is tempted to write the typical super basic “daddy can you pass me that” table scene with dbf!john price where you’re sitting with your father and his best friend but john hands you whatever you’ve asked for instead mpfhh ⠀ ∩ ∩⠀ ꒰ 𓏼 ◞ ˔ ◟ 𓏼 ꒱

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

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

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

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

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

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

he’s never heard of it, he doesn’t have social media, and has no idea what a trend it — your old, grumpy man :,(

john’s frown dissolves, and he leans his broad shoulders back against his chair, quickly digging his hand into the pocket of his trousers, then jacket.

he pulls out a leather wallet, opens it, and picks up a credit card — you blink, towards the card and then at him, a sweet confused expression on your face.

“here, doll” he hands it over to you, eyes distractingly reading something he’d written on the file, his mind and focus drifting back to his work.

“what is that?” you ask, ditzy in your own cloudy mind, “I don’t want your credit card,”

he looks up at you again, a puzzled expression now replacing the previous concentration. “what do you mean sweetheart? why not?”

“Im not asking for your money, im asking you to come with me, pretty please?” you hold your hands together, a sparkling, puppy dog pleading look in your eyes. “wanna get more books”

“oh love, daddy can’t go right now, he’s got too many things to do, princess, do you want me to ask one of the boys to go with you?”

“no, i wanna go with you” you pout softly, sitting on the edge of his desk and looking at him over your shoulder “can we go when you’re done sir? that’s the whole point of the trend, couples going together”

“you could go with my card and buy the entire bookstore, doll?”

“but then I wouldn’t be spending time with you..” you let your legs swing over the edge, looking down at all the files and scattered papers.

he lifts his arm up, tugging at the sleeve of his buttoned down shirt and looking at his watch. “can you wait an hour? let daddy read this bad mean criminal’s file case?”

you smile, leaning over the desk, and press your glossed lips against his, giving him a quick, sweet kiss. “of course daddy, thank you, love you, you’ll help me pick books from my wishlist”

you jump off the desk, send him a flying kiss and go to your — shared — room. He licks the strawberry gloss off his mustache, smiling at the door. You’re probably the only sugar baby in the world who asks for his attention and love instead of his credit card.