”is That What You’re Wearing Today, Doll?”

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

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

a little bookworm bunny, then, john thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Captain John Price 🤎

old!royal knight!john price x soft!young princess!reader

🗡️| just an idea I’ve had in mind for a long time, fluff, john is the captain of the royal army and you’re the king’s niece, of course laaaaarge age gap as always, john is in his mid 40s and reader is 21, innocent n obviously virgin cause yeah

your fingers moved like a gentle, intimate lover against the pages of your book, bestowing your gaze to the the following chapter as you turned the pages — the early afternoon sun was your favorite, casting a golden and bright glow inside your room, shining over the walls like sunlight tapestry, and wrapping you in a blanket of warmth. 

a hand tapped against the back of your door, a feeble sound that pulled your eyes towards it like an invisible hand on your chin — you waited for the maid to let her presence be known, but only her voice echoed through the wooden door. 

“Your majesty, the Captain of the royal army is here, he’d wish to be attended”

you blinked your eyes, as sweet as a spring apricot, and carefully closed the book, placing it on the shelf of your window seat. Your uncle wasn’t home, meaning the Captain should’ve waited for his return, to be received — you were alone, reading in your chambers and spending your time between the loving hugs of your books, but as the only member of the royal family present at moment, you were expected to receive anyone who asked to be greeted. 

you were the youngest, barely even legal, and as the first niece of the king, who didn’t have any children of his own, you were loved as his own daughter, earning the title of princess — 

you walked nervously towards the living room, mentally praying your uncle could come back soon, having absolutely no clue what you could possibly serve the Captain with — the only things that occupied your mind, heart and free time being books, people from the village, animals and dresses. You had hoped a chaperon lady would accompany you, but rather you found yourself attending your duty alone. 

the creamy walls of the living room would have usually caught your attention upon walking through the room, with their soft and delicate color you liked so much, but this time, your eyes focused solely on the man standing right in front of the large window. 

your heart stilled, blood rushing through the quickening beats of your young, innocent heart and flowing into your cheeks, painting them a bright shade of red. 

“Your Majesty,” his voice rumbled like the far call of a distant thunderstorm, gruff and husky, and that roughness only fueled your blush as he walked closer, “Captain John Price, at your service” his hand, large and warm, gently took ahold of yours, bowing ever so slightly and pressing a light kiss on your palm, never adverting his gaze from yours. 

Captain John Price, a seasoned veteran of the Royal Army, stood as a paragon of discipline and unwavering resolve. His grizzled appearance, with a salt-and-pepper beard and weathered features, spoke of years spent on the frontlines, facing battles far from the safety of the royal halls — he reminded you of a grizzly bear.

clad in the dark, ceremonial armor of the king’s elite forces, he bore the weight of his rank with quiet authority — standing tall and broad-shouldered, he exuded the rugged strength of someone who had spent decades in the service of the crown. His build was muscular, honed from years of battle, and you, a young and blooming little girl, thought that he resembled the ‘buff’ body your many romance books told of..

his face was a map of his past: weathered and scarred, the lines of age and experience etched deeply into his skin, and you found him to be attractive, rugged in a charming way, with his thick, graying beard and mature lines — his hair, once a dark brown, had begun to turn a slight silver at the temples, he was clearly much, too much older than you, old enough to be your own father, seemed to be the same age as your uncle (little did you know, they’d known themselves for years)

“you…” your eyes flecked over his, seemingly starstruck, a naive awe that made you stare at him, blushing heavily, heart almost pounding out of your chest, briefly forgetting about your manners — but you quickly tried to regain your composure, shaking your head lightly and giving him the hint of a shy, sweet smile, lashes blinking delicately at him.

“please, sir, no need for such formalities, I’m not my uncle,”

he straightened his back, allowing his gaze to travel slowly, appreciatively along your whole body, such a young, pretty thing you were. 

“I’ve heard you’ve been looking for my uncle, but he’s not here unfortunately, so…” you nibbled on your lower lip, tilting your head “I don’t think I could be of any assistance with any of your questions regarding the, uhm, army.”

“I’m aware of his absence, princess” the corner of his mustache twitched slightly, “I was told upon my arrival, but I must make the most of my time no less, cannot go back to my soldiers without a royal summon, it is important for the upcoming mission”

you blinked, twice, dumbfounded, “you need a..royal report?”

“yes, princess,” he replied, authority and confidence dripping from every word, making a warm, unfamiliar tingle fill your belly, a knot that made it hard to breath “the king and I have decided that I shall come here to gather decisional informations about his will, before having my army carry their swords”

“I, well, have no idea what his will is, the king will definitely be more useful with his own judgment,” 

he looked at you with an unreadable expression, entertained by your humble tenderness, politeness and sweetness, he could practically taste the inexperience and innocence dripping off you, and it made something stir deep inside of him, a growing, illicit hunger and desire

maybe it was your dress, how it ended slightly above your knees, it wasn’t long and luxurious, but rather short and modest, your long hair didn’t carry a large crown, but a thin, sparkling tiara that possibly weighed less than his sword. “what about you, princess?” 

“me..?” you hesitated, slightly lifting your brows, you? what could you possibly know about war? “personally..in my modest opinion, I ween you should simply interrupt the war” 

stupor crossed his intense, calculating eyes, and you expected him to laugh at you, but a spark of amusement came by his gaze, curiosity even — how odd, for a princess as young as you, to reveal such a drastic measure

“Interrupt the war, you say?”

“I, uhm..” you timidly shrugged your shoulders, your fingers fidgeting with your ring — his eyes fell on it, awareness grew into his war scattered, old heart: a purity ring. 

“I must admit I keen nothing about the current war, but if I have learned something, is that it can never bring anything good, and people should simply cease them, just as easily as they start them,” you dared a glance towards his unmoving stance, his eyes bore focused on yours, and you’d ever felt so seen or listened before. 

“they’re unnecessary, just an arrogant and terrible way to prove strength, and..well” you swallowed on your own words, shyness wrapping around you like your so loved lace ribbons, and gave him a gentle smile “In my humble opinion, that course of action may not be the best, im a firm believer and defender of kindness, even between enemy legions”

he smirked, dozens and dozens of years behind his back, and he’d never come across such a pure innocence before — oh, dear, protected by the nightmares of this world, the reality of war, so naive it made him almost undeserving to stand in such a pure presence.

he only shifted his position, unclenching his jaw and regarding you with slight tilt of his head, “well, princess, I’ll make sure to take your advice at heart, though I must admit, if it were this simple, I would not still be fighting battles since before you were even born, your highness,”

“i admit it might sound juvenile coming from me, i know my uncle owes you deep respect, and although this is my first time seeing you, I’ve heard about the many conquers under your name, sir,” you blinked again, your big, doe eyes tantalizing the hunter inside of him — you’d never seen him before, only heard about his reputation in the army, and wished your uncle had introduced him to you. “therefore, I’m flattered to be able to stand before you, Captain Price”

who knew the king had such a young, sweet little niece? you looked like a trembling fawn underneath his gaze, a fragile bunny wrapped in innocence, someone who could use his protection, who’d look good sitting on his lap, who could be the perfect trophy and gift for an old, experienced, weary soldier who served the crow his entire life.

he grinned, knowing what to answer the king, next time he asked him what he desired as a offering gift for his service to the crown.

this is very silly and random but sweet!innocent soft girl and vampire!old man daddy price where she’s hemophobic and nearly always cries or feels sick at the sight or even mention of it, she can’t even go to the doctor for a simple blood test or she’ll cry. so she lets vamp daddy john price take a bite from her wrist to do a checkup — it never hurts when he does it, only feels good :( — your eyes squeezed shut, head turned the other way.

when he’s done, john licks his lips and kisses your skin to heal the bite mark that he’s left,

“tastes healthy, doll. everything’s fine, just need a bit more iron, love, should eat more meat, but you’re good.”

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙ hopping in to tell you that im a soft blonde booklover bunny!girl, im 20, im straight, I love books and dilfs ‘n men old enough to be my dad and everything pink and feminine 🐇⋆₊˚─ ໒꒰ྀི ◞ ◟꒱ྀིა ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა

i write specifically and mostly for daddy n dbf john price because im his little princess, his good girl :( sooo daddy kink daddy kink daddy kink in dd/lg setting — im also in love love love with levi ackerman, im his wifey ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡

bakery is open! (requests) pls request a blurb or one shot or imagine if you’d like <3 ˚⋆𐙚｡ ᡣ𐭩

also, im a christian girl, I love Jesus sm, everyone is welcome here but please be kind n nice and respectful, im sensitive and a crybaby ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

lots of hugs and kisses n God bless you :)!!!໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

-bunny ₊ ⊹₍ᐢᐢ₎ ᰔᩚ ᕱᕱ

Let me make this clear, God moves mountains! I don’t care how big the mountain is, just pray & have faith!

Sugar daddy!price x fem!reader (bar owner series)

🎂 warnings: suggestive at the end, minors dni please, laaaarge age gap (price is in his 40s and reader is 21) <3

if price found out you haven’t been eating since breakfast this morning and are currently starving, he’d be mad. Not at you, but for you. so, like a sweet, good little girl that wished not to burden him with concern, you rush behind the counter, to the back storage room next to his office — a quick snack, that’s what you’re going to indulge into.

your hands carefully dig into your backpack, and as you take out the piece of strawberry shortcake you bought on the way back from college, you make a little hop on the spot — barely able to contain excitement.

your fingers work hastily to remove the paper and plastic from the box, and the scent of sweet, sugary whipped cream and strawberries fill your nose. You smile to yourself as you gather some whipped cream with your finger and bring it your lips.

you scarcely contain a silent moan when the sugar melts in your mouth like a cloud of sweetness, as if heaven itself decided to reveal its secrets.

“gosh it’s so good” you murmur, bringing another whitened finger to your lips, mouth already half filled with the previous bite.

“oh you are indeed”

you startle in your own tracks when you hear the low, deep voice from behind you, like a little bunny getting caught feasting on a farmer’s carrot land.

turning towards the door, you find john, his imposing, muscular figure looking down at you with his signature lazy, amused smirk. Your eyes fall on his flannel shirt, the first buttons are languidly left untied, allowing you a stolen glance of his hairy chest, his pectorals that make your mouth water as much as the long forgotten piece of cake in your hands.

dumbfounded, you blink up at him twice, swallowing down the remaining mushy cake you stopped chewing on upon seeing him. Your cheeks grow red, sunrise reflecting on them with how bright and warm they look.

“Sir, uhm…i was, i was-“ you struggle to compose yourself, lowering your hands as he slowly begins to strade over you, the familiar scent of cologne and tobacco mingling with your vanilla perfume.

“hungry? can see that, angel,” he whispers, clearly entertained by your shyness. A lazy, seductive smile appears on his visage like a natural decor, one you’ve never seen him not wearing since meeting you.

once he’s close enough to tower over you, his graying, dark beard catches your attention, his mustache and salt and pepper hair, the way the muscles of his hairy forearms bulge with every move, everything about him screams strong masculinity, control and dominance.

he lifts up a hand towards your face, and you hold your breath as he uses his calloused thumb to wipe some whipped cream off the corner of your glossed lips. He brings the digit to his own mouth, licking the cream off his finger — the sight makes the pit of your stomach twist, a warm knot tightens in your belly and roots all the way down between your thighs.

you have to slowly place the cake down on a nearby surface otherwise you’d make it drop.

he licks his mustache, his sharp, intense eyes fleck to you, studying silently and carefully every single reaction he could get and read off you, “it does taste good though doll, you’re right,”

his voice deepens, a baritone that sounds gruff and heavy, and you involuntarily hide your hands behind your back, gently holding onto the edge od the table. With a slow, deliberate movement, he brings his licked finger down, underneath your skirt, and presses it against your clothed clit.

as if a spark shot through you, you almost squeak, a muffled whimper leaves your lips, an unfamiliar sound that your own ears don’t recognize. He keeps his eyes on you, lid and thin, as he slowly brushes it over your panties,

“but I’m sure when I finally get a taste of you, you’ll taste even sweeter” his words sound like a growl, an impatient promise.

he knows you’re a sweet, young, inexperienced, untouched girl, and as much as he was a gentleman, as much as he wanted to handle you cautiously, like a porcelain doll that could break in a heartbeat and needed the best care and attention, he almost took you right there when you gave him those doe, shy eyes.

“I know you’re impatient, sweet girl, but daddy will make it worth the wait”, he thinks you deserve more that a stolen moment in the midst of the chaos, of a working day, and he knows you want him to be rough, to be hard on you. “let daddy take you out to dinner tonight, and then you can give this old man some sugar, mmh?”

you can only nod, words stuck in your throat unable to come out, but your eyes gleam in the softest and most innocent way, you don’t know if you want to drop to your knees, and beg him to do whatever he wanted, or to grab your piece of cake back and hide behind the counter.

bunnies were shy creatures, eager for affection, love and attention but timid when under their owners’ loving gaze. If you weren’t careful, they might just hop away and hide shyly.

..but a little bunny like you needs to be trained into being the perfect, sweetest good girl first. And he is a man of discipline, he knows how to wait.

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?

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.”

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