Captain Price X Reader - Blog Posts

dbf! john texting his little bunny but he’s lwk old so it’s so cute how he texts and doesn’t understand her lingo etc. ykwim?

—bunny “tysm for the birthday gift sir, please lmk when you can come over to help me hang the shelf on the wall!! need to organize my new books asap!!🐰”

—bunny “oh, btw i’ve put aside a piece of cake for you, jic. xoxo”

john stares at the texts, frowning at those meaningless letters that apparently make no sense to him. the smoke curling from his cigar swirls around the screen of his phone, but that’s not why he’s squinting his eyes to see better. what does that mean? jic? was she supposed to write jp? as in his name?

—john “coming over later today, love. asap? that a new book series you’ve got?”

—bunny “means as soon as possible!🐰”

he grunts. amused, puffing out a little chuckle. obviously, young girls and their use of modern language.

—john “got it doll. pa’s home?”

his large hand came to scratch his thick beard, dwelling into the salt and pepper hairs. but as soon as another little ring put his phone up, he stopped, the cigar hanging from his lips.

—bunny “no sir :(, dunno when he’s coming back, dd”

oh, he didn’t need to ask what that last word meant. he knew that damn well.

—john “on my way, sugar.”

—bunny “you mean ‘omw’, lol!🐰”

🍓| laaarge age gap, price is in his late 40s and fem virgin!reader is 21, kissing!

dads best friend john price! having you sitting on his lap while your father’s away, facing him, your legs around his sides as you look at him with the sweetest and shyest expression and red, blushing cheeks after you’ve asked him to ‘teach me how to kiss, please sir?’

john has been trying to remain resilient, to resist your pleads and clear feelings towards him, because you’re so, too young for him, he doesn’t deserve such a sweet, pretty girl, he’s an old, worn out and mean bastard — but, how could he deny those doe, sweet eyes of yours? so tender and kind, it almost kills him how badly he wants to steal you from your father and just have his way with you.

he’s a man of outmost control, after so many years of experience behind his back, the military has taught him to keep his composure and master patience and control — he’s trying to be a responsible adult, although he yearns to have his way with you in the harshest way possible.

so he just sighs, saying “just one kiss, doll”, and lifts his hand to hold your chin with his rough fingers, gripping your chin firmly and tilting your face upwards to push your glossed lips out “open.”

you do as he said, parting your lips slightly —when he bends his head to press his mouth on yours, you hold your breath, not knowing how to react. the kiss is slow at first, but it’s clear that he’s holding back, just moving his lips steadily and gently against yours, his thick beard scratching your warm cheeks. it tastes so good, the warm hint of smoke and a minty liquor. 

but then your hands grip his flannel tight, and he hears a little whimper from you that makes him groan lowly, the fabric of his jeans tightening around his growing bulge. you press yourself closer, wanting to feel more of him — and suddenly the kiss becomes rough, hungry, animalistic, his lips move fast and eagerly against your mouth, licking and kissing with an intensity that makes you hold onto him, your chests pressed together. his tongue pushes forcefully into your mouth, licking and pressing against your own as little whines bubble from your throat. 

john knew you didn’t need to learn how to kiss because you’d never kiss anyone that wasn’t him, and he’d only ever let you kiss him, “if a guy ever tries to do this to you, sweetheart,” he grumbles against your lips, tilting his head to gain more access, pecking your bottom lip and biting it with his own teeth, “you slap him and come to daddy, aight dollface?”

you nod against him, breathless and already panting, poor girl, this is your first kiss and you’re a blushing mess ;( he pulls back slightly and pinches your chin, sprawling his fingers over your jaw “open up for daddy, come on, stick out your tongue f’me, good girl, that’s it, sugar”

and he dives right back in, a feverish kiss full of biting, tongue and teeth, but just as you throw your arms around his neck and mumble a soft ‘’more…” and shift impossibly closer to his lap, he grunts against your lips, letting out a warning sound — he slows his pace down, kissing you slowly now “said just a kiss, angel,”

you whine, pressing an open mouthed kiss on his mustache, your glossy eyes full of need, “please sir, wan’ you daddy, pretty please…” gosh, if only you knew how much he wanted you. 

you’re making it so hard for him, he can’t corrupt your innocence. you recognize the look of restraint behind his eyes, and he just squeezes your hip with his free hand, holding your face close to his until your warm breaths mingle together “im too old for you, sweetheart, you shouldn’t want a old, broken man like me, you’re too young and sweet f’me, love” 

“please sir, i just wan you..” you whine timidly again, feeling the unfamiliar sensation of something hard pressing against your inner thighs, right above your clothed girlbud — your cheeks flame up, red and bright, blushing like the most beautiful flower and ripest fruit, and you pout like a puppy. 

“doll, don’t think for a second i dont want you, princess, but you deserve better, and if your father found out…” he mutters a short, fake chuckle, letting his hands roam freely all over your waist and lower back, the only think he allows himself to indulge into. he knows how much he wants to throw you over his shoulder and take you home with him. 

“you’re still mine anyway, little one, regardless of what we do or don’t do, be sure that you’re mine”

maybe he could only give you a little glimpse, only let you get off on his clothed thigh? teach you how to do it with him and him only?

how long will it take for him to finally give in and give you what you both want?

scary dog privilege with your old, gruff and scary sugar daddy!john price?

given you’re always a well mannered girl, you never cause conflicts, but if something were to happen with someone and you wanted to take advantage of your daddy being scary, old, intimidating and huge to just defend you?

maybe at the bar, a rude costumer not even lifting their eyes from the table as they ordered something else from you, without acknowledging your presence or saying hi, politely.

”another beer with ice,”

you decide to give him the benefit of the doubt, and tilted your head, speaking with your usual polite and sweet voice. “im sorry?” “another beer, at my table” same tone, same words, not even a smile.

clearly you hadn’t heard that wrong — your expression softened, and you lowered your notebook, looking like an upset bunny who’d just gotten offended,

you were always so sweet and kind with everyone, and john often tried to teach you that not everyone would always reciprocate your kindness, he wanted to warn you about mean, rude people who would upset his little girl :(

but you always got sad, not understanding why people couldn’t just be nice.

“no, sir, excuse me, i was waiting for you to say please, you could at least look at me you know..”

he frowned, narrowing his eyes like you’d said the most incoherent thing in the world, and gave you an ironic look “it’s your job to serve me a drink, dear”

you blinked your eyes, dumbfounded, hoping he’d understand what you were gently trying to say, keeping a low tone of voice “yes, and as a human being, your job is to be polite and kind? where are your manners?”

“little lady, what’s your problem? im paying you, you’re not giving me a gift, little girl”

“yet kindness is free,” you were undeterred, crossing your arms over your blouse and giving him an exasperated look, tilting your hip.

he shifted on his chair, crossing his legs together and throwing his arm behind the chair’s head. “let me speak with the manager, then”

“oh, you can speak directly to my boss, if you’d like” you shrugged, aware of how that situation would end up, and strolled down to john’s usual private table, walking calmly and quietly.

once in front of him, you leaned forward and pressed your hands flat against the wooden table’s surface, stretching your arms, wearing the most innocent and docile look “daddy,”

john turned his attention towards you, his half empty glass of whiskey trapped between his firm, thick fingers “there’s the love of my life, what is it, doll face?”

you leaned closer to him, tilting your head slightly, practically almost bending over his seat “a costumer wants to talk to you, he’s gonna complain about me because i wouldn’t serve him unless he asked politely,”

you blinked your dollish, doe eyes at him, so big and round and innocent they told him ‘take my defense and then fuck me, please’, a little pout making you push out your bottom lip.

”does he now…” john muttered under his breath, his warm eyes slowly taking in every inch of your figure, your lacy thigh highs and uniform skirt — he lifted is glass to let the liquid trail down his throat with a swift, fast seep, before setting it down “aight, doll, daddy’ll take care of it, princess, don’t worry”

he gripped the armrest of his chair, pushing himself up to a standing position, but you quickly reached for him and gently grabbed him by the sleeve

“he wasn’t mean, sir, he just didn’t want to say please and you know how much that upsets me..please don’t get angry at him” the way you furrowed your brows together was so adorable price had to physically restrain himself from just picking you up and throw you over his buff shoulders

but he gave you a little frown, lifting his hand to pinch your chin affectionately, grabbing it in between his forefinger and thumb “how many times have i told you you’re always too nice, love? people are gonna take advantage of that, doll”

you straightened your back, locking your hands together behind your back and lifted your chin, letting him squeeze your it again “but that’s why I have you to come rescue me, daddy…”

he let out a deep chuckle, briefly shaking his head before he let go of your chin with a last, little squeeze “these blokes can’t even let this poor old man rest in peace, how can someone be rude to such a sweet girl, they really like pissing me off huh? got the nerve to disrespect my girl”

and with that, he walked past you, towards the guy who’d just been too busy to ask you nicely, or say a simple ‘please’’ — but john had promised he’d never let anyone mistreat his polite girl’s manners, especially inside his own bar.

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?”

sugar daddy!john price x sugar (cry)baby soft!fem reader, laaaarge age gap, price is in his late 40s and reader is 21, suggestive, daddy kink obviously

you’re sugar daddy!john price’s good girl, always eager to be pampered and showered with compliments — you just wanna be his good obedient little girl.

in and out of bed, you’re the most precious, obedient bunny girl, with the most evident praise kink, just wanting big old daddy price to call you his “good girl” — and oh john surely loves to give you what you need, always muttering with his rough, deep voice a “you’re such a good girl for daddy, aren’t you angel? atta girl, that’s a good girl”

and you’re content, soft and sweet :)

but — one time, john finds himself wondering if maybe your shyness isn’t preventing you from wandering into a different flowery path than the usual one you love lingering on,

you trust him with everything, but being the pillow princess that you are, the only way he could ever find out if you were into something else, would be by rolling his sleeves and taste the waters himself.

his hand grasp a fistful of your hair with the roughness you’ve grown to love, pulling your fragile body closer to him, until your back is pressed against his hairy, muscular and bulky chest — your cheeks are warm and red, and you can already picture the upcoming praise that’ll fall from his lips like petals, that’ll wrap you up in such a fuzzy feeling of contentment in the midst of all that harshness, roughness that makes you melt like strawberry and vanilla pudding in his hands….

he’s too caught up in the sensation, his young doll being so warm and soft around him — even if he’s a rough, hard dom, he always, always balances his harshness with gentle, tender words, praises and affirmations — always, until…

“y’er such a needy nasty little girl, look at you, a whimpering mess for you old man, isn’t that right? can’t even speak or think properly, sweetheart, used like a mere toy—“

…until the words that this time come next are unfamiliar, and your already ragged breath stills completely — your body stiffens, and you narrow your sweet eyes down towards the messy sheets, surprise striking through you like an unexpected lighting during a spring day. what?

where’s the ‘good girl, taking me so well angel, you’re so well behaved”

what? what happened to the praising part?

your chin wobbles, and a little, strangled meek sound bubbles from your throat — the corners of your eyes start feeling heavier, and a watery veil falls over them as delicate, little tears fill them up.

and price — when you tilt your head to look at him from over your trembling shoulder, frowning and glossy eyed with a look of confusion and hurt — oh gosh, he almost dies right there. you definitely aren’t into that, and he’s messed it up.

“doll— oh no princess, don’t cry baby—“ his growly, raspy words trail off as he realizes he’s said the wrong thing and you’re crying over his mean words. “shh, shh sweetheart,”

you let out a little mewl, and another pearly tear runs down your cheek, but he quickly coos down at you, hovering over your back and pressing a kiss on your teary face, “oh love, im sorry, don’t cry angel, fuck, you’re daddy’s good girl, you’re always my good, perfect girl”

you sniffle, your pouty lips quivering as his strong, heavy hands turn you around, laying you on your back against the mattress to face him “what was that, sir…?”

“nothing, angel, nothing, i didn’t mean it my love, daddy’s sorry, sweet thing,” every gruff, lowly spoken reassurance is followed by a kiss on your cheeks and lips, silly him, he just wanted to see if his little bunny would like to try a different type of candy…

swallowing back another sob, you look like an upset, sad little bunny, and you’re tempted to roll over and hide beneath the blankets.

oh he’d definitely have to make it up to you, how could he make his poor delicate good girl distress like that, although unwillingly?

“didn’t like it daddy..” you mumble softly, tilting your head and squinting your eyes when his mustache tickles your cheekbone

his warm, calloused hands rub your waist soothingly, caressing your hips as your limp arms locked around his neck, “I know love, I know princess, you’re my delicate, sweet, good girl, daddy‘s proud of you, bunny, I apologize, my lady…can this mean, bad daddy make it up to you, mmh, love?”

it’s hard to stay offended when his buff, bear body is pressed delectably heavily against you, muscles ripping and flexing underneath scarred skin — your cheeks flush red, burning bright, and you only nod, still pouting.

cause you know he didn’t really mean it :,(

it’s in your nature, good girls want to be praised affectionately, just like bunnies only want to be pet, and never scolded.

Do you think John would be the type to wake up with the deep husky, still half asleep type of voice?

oh my goodness gracious absolutely YES

his voice gets even deeper upon waking up, rough and different from the usual confident, commanding tone he carries — it rambles through his chest like the awakening of a earthquake, its coarse, husky and drowsy.

“Mornin’, love,”

oh my gosh, it’s such a warm sound, it sends a flame right through your belly and paints your cheeks red, first thing in the morning.

and when his heavy arm is draped across your waist, caressing your spine with thick, scarred fingers, rasping out your name in that voice?

you definitely cannot fight the urge to slip away from the soft duvets and climb on top of him, both legs swinging on his sides — and that’s the first sun he sees upon waking up, your smile and gentle doe eyes, warmer than any sunlight.

“good morning daddy, did you miss me while you were asleep?” you giggle, playfully, both hands lightly caressing his muscular and hairy torso (dad body dad body dad body)

“yeah doll, was fightin’ the sleep monster to let me see my little bunny,” he chuckles, warmly and deeply.

his voice should be illegal, you always try and tell him that smoking so much is bad for his health, but those cigars have shaped his voice in the most alluring way ever — even his british accent gets thicker, more pronounced, coarse, lethal, it could cut the air around you.

“should try and read my books out loud to me…” you tilt your head, and a glimmer of confident amusement twinkles in his eyes, at the sight of your red, warm cheeks.

“blushing already, sweet thing?”

he sounds like a grizzly bear.

(˶˃ᆺ˂˶) ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა

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?”

hello!! i hope this is okay and that you’re taking requests because i absolutely adore your writing! your relationship with God and spirituality is also really special to me, i love to see how you connect with Him <3

could i please request a comfort fic, perhaps about sweet reader having subdrop and aftercare fluff? or just any sweet fluff with the dynamic you write. i hope you’re doing well, thank you for the wonderful content!!

I saw this req this morning and it made me smile sooo much, thank you for the kind and sweet words bubble bee, im genuinely head over heels over this message <333 im glad you can see through how special my relationship with God is, he’s literally my comfort person and i love showing how much he means to me and how much i love him, he’s so good and kind and caring ૮ ⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ ·̭ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝ ྀིა by the way, i love writing about daddy price in the ddlg setting, id regress all the time with him 🐰

🍼 | ddlg, agere dynamic, sugar daddy dom!john price x sugar baby little!fem reader, pure fluff, laaarge age gap, reader is 21 and john is in his mid 40s, might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but shows what their relationship also consists of.

you only wanted to be held, loved and protected by a strong, old and gruff man :( and sugar daddy!john price was the best caregiver ever to toy.

you were his little girl, so young and innocent, didn’t want to worry about adult life :( could be his princess in peace n let him handle all the responsibilities that came with being an grown up.

those burdens and life expectancies stilled the moment you sat down on john’s lap, recharging your little self, and basking in your daddy’s attention — he could read you with a single glance, the redness of your cheeks, the way your eyelids grew a bit heavier, your fidgety movements and incoherent mumbles, your clinginess, they all spoke volumes about your needs.

he moved his lips to your temple, pressing a few kisses on top of your head, his mustache was pressed against your hair, rubbing it affectionately “what’s wrong, sweetheart? feeling little, mmh?”

you nodded against his chest, curled up like a lap bunny, your legs swinging over his — you had to act like a big girl outside, just to come back home to him and sink deep into sub space. ૮꒰っ˕‹̥̥̥ ꒱ა

“dont wanna do anything today, sir,” you closed your eyes took a deep breath, enjoying the feeling of his muscular, chiseled chest radiating warmth against your body, his bulging arms holding you close to him.

“have to study, but i just wanna lie down ‘n rest, read my books, watch cartoons n drink hot cocoa..don’t wanna be an adult, it’s tiring, wanna be carefree, live the kind of life God has promised us,” you snuggled your face against his pectorals, and his arm quickly moved to your head, large and warm as it begun to caress your hair, brush it with his bare fingers

“I know, doll face, don’t have to worry about a single thing, sweet girl, just be daddy’s little girl, you have me to take care of you” he pressed another kiss to your temple, and you lifted your head from his chest, pushing your bottom lip out and looking at his lips, letting him lower his head and meet your lips with eager compliance,

you titled your head to give him more access, and his tongue pushed deep into your mouth, pressing against yours, making you pour a soft, delicate whine into his mouth, which he quickly took possession of, devouring it.

he pulled away, your lips only inches apart, his warm, breath caressing your flushed, red cheeks, but you wanted another one, neediness flowing into your body and making you even clingier — you pressed your mouths together again, open mouthed kisses that he accepted with an amused, entertained expression, his sharp, intense eyes never leaving you.

“careful, angel, might give this old man a heart attack with all this affection,” his gruff joke, mumbled roughly, made you giggle against his lips, and you gave him a sweet smile, your eyes as glittery as those sticker sheets you — unexplainably to him — liked to collect.

“can you use your words to tell daddy what you need right now baby, mmh? wanna be my little girl?”

you nodded shyly, your fingers playing with the strap of his watch, “ben n Jerry’s…”

“wanna eat ice cream on daddy’s lap? your favorite flavor?”

“yes daddy, please” you nodded again and gave him your puppy pleading eyes, feeling appreciative for his understanding and deep, gentle love towards you — he was such a fierce, bulky man that only learned how to be gentle with his hands to hold you, his little princess :(

“your wish is my command, my lady, come here,” he stood up, effortlessly carrying you with him and locking your legs around his waist with a single arm, “I’ll get your favorite stuffie, probably wonders where his momma is, mmh?”

(っ˃̣̣̥ -˂̣̣̥ς)

“sleepy,” you mumbled against his neck, letting him carry you with minimal no effort — he chuckled deeply, and patted your butt playfully, “yeah babygirl, nap time after ice cream, so daddy can go do some work stuff, deal?”