Haii Bunny, Thank You So Much For Feeding All Of Us With Your Daddy Price Fics ❤️ This Is Gonna Be

Older gruff daddy with a scruffy beard & tired expression from a long day at work that let’s me sit on his lap and ramble on about my day while gently caressing my hair ♡

old man daddy john price coming back home from a tiring, exhausting mission and finding his sweet little bunny dolly girl like this

OK IK I PROMISED NO MORE SPAM BUT OMG UR A CHRISTIAN TOO?? TWIN OMG WAITTTT

-🪽

YAYYY LOVELY !! HOLY GIRLS HERE DAUGHTERS OF THE MOST HIGH LORD OF LORDS KING OF KINGS JESUS !! the way the truth and the life fr🐇✨

my controversially older husband 💞

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.

judging from your blog i think you'd love fairy milk! but that's unfair of me, i'm the total opposite of you and i love fairy milk.

i love everything milky, soft and with vanilla <33 you’re absolutely right because if i were a drink, i’d be fairy milk or strawberry milkshake, i also love love love chamomile tea </3 omgosh you’ve just given me an idea like daddy price making me soothing warm fairymilk before going to bed with a lot of whipped cream ૮꒰ིྀ˶> <˶꒱ིྀა ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒

“aren’t you too young to be working to afford your college all alone? doesn’t your daddy pay for his little girl’s education?”

you blush at the man’s question, he was a regular, and you know he has only asked out of mere curiosity, but it somehow makes you feel embarrassed. As you place the bottle of beer down on his the table and look at him, you notice the lack of judgment on his face, but a brush of concern and noisy inquisitiveness.

“oh, my daddy does pay for my education” you answer him politely, blinking down at him with your brows slightly raised as if your statement was the most obvious answer. Little does he know, the daddy you’re referring to isn’t your father, but john price, your boss, sugar daddy and owner of the bar.

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”

dilf old man!john price accidentally turns off his cigar by pressing it against the palm of that prick who claims to have accidentally brushed his hand against your butt by mistake, but ‘didn’t mean to’.

you squeal like a startled bunny when you feel something against your skirt, and turn around with doe, worried eyes — a pair of hands shoot upwards, and you’re met with the not so earnest apologetic expression of a guy you don’t know, who blurts a “sorry, miss, didn’t meant to, bumped into you by accident”

you quickly shake your head, giving him a polite smile, kind, well mannered. too kind for your own good, never wanting to cause trouble “it’s alright, don’t worry”

but john sees and knows everything concerning you, he’s attentive of your surroundings, needs to be always on alert for his sweet, little bunny girl. and he knows that prick didn’t touch you by mistake.

the moment you turn around and shift away, busy sipping on your strawberry matcha like the epitome of innocence, john moves to stand behind that guy.

his hiss of pain falls on deaf ears when john brushes next to him, almost as imperceptible as the slight flick of john’s wrist, imprinting a cigar burn into that guy’s hand. he instantly withdraws his hand, blurting out thick curses as gray ash burns around a red mark on his skin.

“careful where you put your hands,” john’s voice sounds deep, rough in a lethal way, menacing and rough. he barely leans towards the guy’s ear, standing tall and intimidating, the double entendre of his words clear. if he’s not careful he might get more than a simple cigar burn.