Hi Angel!! Dbf!price When A Silly Little Boy Comes To Take Us Out For A Date? Would Love To See It Xx

when sugar daddy!john price finds out about the stray dog you’ve taken in while he’s been on deployment… pt. 2

you cradle the dog against your chest as you look up at john, who now has two, not one, pair of puppy eyes to melt at.

but he’s fuming, bulk arms crossed together and bearded jaw clenched, a crinkle appearing between his eyes, an evident expression of anger that you’re not used to.

“what is that?” his voice is a low, deep rumble that sends chills down your spine, and you find yourself only staring at him, lips glued together — he’s never gotten mad at you before, or angry, you always followed all the rules, slipping out a soft ‘yes sir’ or ‘yes daddy’ and doing as you were told, as if you had been handcrafted by cherubs and sent to earth to be his personal good girl.

he’s warned you about not taking a stray dog many times, and Oreo himself can feel the heavy emotion lingering in the air, how that big, tall man doesn’t seem pleased with his presence.

“Oreo..” you mumble quietly, looking up at him from where you’re kneeling on the floor, hand gently caressing the pup’s soft head. “he’s a border collie and he’s..he’s five months”

could you believe that.

“who’s gonna take care of him?” his gives you single worded questions, his grumpy, strict captain personality draped over him like a cape.

“I am, sir” you try to make him more reasonable, giving him your own puppy dog eyes, your knees scraping against the carpet underneath them as you hug the tiny, black and white creature.

“doll, you need me to take care of yourself, how are you going to take care of a dog?”

“but he’s good, daddy, I promise, he doesn’t make any mess, he just needs love and affection, that’s all” you look at the dog, who’s studying john with a curious gaze, tail moving slowly and attentively.

“he was all alone on the street, with no collar, whining, I couldn’t leave him there hungry and sad :( and I was also alone, we kept each other company while you were away,”

you speak with such a tenderness it is very hard for john to remain serious and mad at you, so he just closes his eyes, pinching his nose.

“come on daddy, you said you also have a dog at the base, why can’t we have one?”

“Riley doesn’t sleep on my bed, angel, he has other people to take care of him, do you even understand how hard it is to raise a damn dog?” his voice grows deeper, rougher, darting his hardened eyes between you, kneeling so cutely in front of him and that damn dog, whom you’ve named after a cookie.

but of course you couldn’t just let him come back to his house with hundreds of more books, you also had to welcome him with a dirty whelp

Oreo whines towards John, his tail wagging shakily, wondering why that new hooman hasn’t petted him yet.

“you said you wanted us to have a son, we have one now :(“

“fuckin’ earth sweetheart that’s not what I meant,” he sighs, bending over and picking the dog up with only one arm — you watch as he lifts him up on the air, scrutinizing him with a doubtful look, his paws are clean, he doesn’t stink.

“you’re just fuckin’ lucky i love her,” he mutters to Oreo, who only gives him a high pitched bark in response. “he’s not sleeping on the bed, he’s not allowed near my boots, and if he drools all over my paperwork, im sending him right on the field”

guess you are both parents, now :)

hi my lovee, reader receiving flowers and assuming they’re from price? He gets home and is LIVID

hiii my dear babyyy </3 im in love with this request wanna scream kick my feet giggle girlishly

💐| lil fluff, sugar daddy!john price x sugar baby fem!reader, laaarge age gap, john is in his mid 40s n reader is 21,

it wasn’t your fault :( due to your upcoming exams, you told john that couldn’t go to the bar, hence why you’ve been home all day, studying, what you didn’t expect though, was to find a postman ringing at the door, holding the cutest flower bouquet for you.

your eyes instantly softened at the sight, immediately thinking about john, who’d often make sure to send you flowers when he was away in deployment, or when he couldn’t see you for a long time, getting them delivered to the house.

your cheeks turned the same pink of the flowers, and you quickly thanked the mailman, taking the bouquet from his hands and holding it close to your nose to inhale the fresh, sweet fragrance. 🏷️ | for the sweetest girl in town,

the softest giggle bubbled from your throat, and you quickly ran to the kitchen, filling an empty glass with water to place the flowers into.

and a few hours later, when john came back from the bar just to check on you, see if you needed anything, you practically jumped at him

“thank you for the flowers, daddy, they’re so pretty” you smiled at him, and it seemed like the sun itself had revealed its rays, your warm, blushing cheeks and doe eyes revealing your bashfulness as you stood on your tippy toes and planted a kiss on his mouth, pressing your lips against his.

john just blinked at you, cluelessly, as he returned the kiss, remaining still — his buff, marble crafted body as rigid as a statue “what flowers, doll?”

you plopped back down and tilted your head, smiling in compliance — “the ones you’ve sent me today, sir, i love them, you always remember pink flowers are my favorite”

but that didn’t clear his mind not even a bit — he was sure he hadn’t sent you any flowers today, and it couldn’t even have been one of those monthly bouquet subscription plans he’d signed up for when he was deployed and far away, occupied with long missions, because in that case he would’ve received an email.

so who was the fool that dared to send his girl flowers? to their home?

as if something had switched inside of him, you could see his jaw clenching, muscles flexing in a way that reminded you of a grizzly bear that tried to tame his temper — a shadow of annoyance crossed his eyes as he spoke, “I haven’t sent them, doll”

your smiles faltered briefly, thinking he must’ve been joking, wanted to keep the surprise effect, but when he moved closer to the table, scrutinizing the bouquet like a challenge, a wave of embarrassment flooded over you.

“what do you mean? you always send me flowers, sir..” you spoke meekly, not wanting to fuel the already heavy discomfort you could feel in the air.

john had been through a lot, he’d faced terrorists, had fought the horrors of battles and wars, but nothing had ever spurred that boiling feeling of anger within his chest that was slowly coming to surface now, roughening the edge of his growly tone “not today, sweetheart”

his fingers touched the little envelope tucked around the bouquet’s stem, “a secret admirer, eh?”

his voice was low, teasing in a way that felt both playful and possessive way — he was a grown, confident, adult man, he knew you were all his, and yet, the sight of another man's gesture, especially one so thoughtful, unraveled something inside him, a possessiveness and jealousy that boiled within him.

that jealousy didn’t come from insecurity, but from a certainty of a man who knew what he had and what he wanted to keep for himself, being the seasoned and confident leader he was, he mastered control over any situation with outmost quiet assertiveness.

he didn’t lash out or yell, oh no, he simply looked down with a dry, dark stare “who the fuck sends flowers to a taken girl?”

you opened your mouth and closed it right after, your cheeks blooming red, and walked closer to him, looking at the flowers differently now, since the note didn’t have a name on it. “I supposed they were from you, sir, as usual..”

“no, angel, some bloke thought he could try and win my girl,” he chuckled, a deep, short, chilling laugh that screamed silent anger. “foolish kid, could use some military training in his life and learn how to fookin’ know his limits”

his mustache twitched, like it always did when he tried and keep his anger in check, and he turned towards you, who’d already begun to play with your hair nervously, eyes narrowing worriedly.

“didnt know sir, im sorry, i genuinely thought they were from you..”

you were like a calming, comforting balm to him, poor sweet girl, you were just so innocent and naive :( but whoever had sent them, hadnt left a signature, which now left you wondering how could have possibly been.

he held your chin with his whole hand, lifting it up towards his face, and planted a forceful, heavy kiss on your mouth, feeling you squirm against him when he bit on your bottom lip, “not mad at you, doll, i know you did,”

when he pulled away, he grabbed your chin with his fingers, squeezing softly as he looked down at you with darkened, half lidded eyes — it had probably been a kid from college, and he didn’t feel threatened by that at all, just pissed.

“hes just giving me more things to do with my line of work, princess, just wait until I find out who that bastard is, gonna send him something special,”

you shivered at the silent threat behind his words, his thick British accent lowering to a dangerous tone, a growly and lethal edge to it,

”i can send them back if you want-“

“oh nono, love, know you’d feel bad, let me take care of it, princesses don’t get their hands dirty, their daddies do”

Just a reminder:

God truly does hear you. He listens to you intently. He has taken account of all your cries. He has a pool of all your tears resting in the palm of His hand.

He will answer your prayers. Even the ones you forgot you prayed about.

Trust me, I know.

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

⋆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.

imagine soft bunny girl wanting to play a silly little prank on sugar daddy!dilf john price by paying for the check. only an harmless little prank, nothing serious, right?

not for him. as an old fashioned gentleman, he wouldn’t take that well. he’d never let you pay for a single thing, you’re his sugar baby after all (his unconventionally too young girlfriend)

let’s say you’re on a date. restaurant, sweet treat break, anything you’d like, and when you’re done, you stand up in your frilly little skirt, glossed lips, strawberry and vanilla perfume that swirls around him when you lean down to kiss him on the corner of his mouth, right above that mustache you go crazy for.

“be right back sir, lady needs” you use the bathroom excuse, he gruffs out a “aight doll” but instead of heading to the toilet, you secretly go pay. innocent, naive little bunny, you think he’s gonna laugh at that, find it hilarious.

little does he know, you slip to the front and quickly pay the bill, before slipping to the toilet.

but after you actually hop to the bathroom, he stands up. broad shoulders, straight, imposing stance that exudes confidence, pure masculinity that stretches like leather with every step he takes, a cigar that’s not lit yet hanging from his mouth.

he doesn’t say a word, leisurely takes his wallet off the back pocket of his expensive suit jacket and proceeds to hand the card to the waiter, who, cluelessly, just smiles at him,

“the bill has already been paid, sir”

john blinks, once, then twice, maybe his ears are starting to play on him, given his seasoned age. he’s not sure he’s heard that right. so he mutters a rough “ ‘scuse me?”

“yes, the lady who’s here with you paid earlier”

those words feel wrong in his head, unwelcome. he wants to spit them out, but he’s always a man of undeterred and outmost control, composure. only the way his jaw clenches underneath his thick beard, salt and pepper like the mixed thoughts running in his mind, says otherwise.

he doesn’t how how long he remains still like that, buff muscles somehow becoming thicker, building a stonelike wall that prevents the boiling fire within him to flow outside. unmoving, like the endless times spent eyeing the target from afar, waiting like a statue for the perfect moment to bounce on them.

feigned stoicism and broodiness decor his mature face, as he tucks his wallet back inside his pocket with more strength that before — he nods to the waiter, and waits for you outside. when you come back, careless, sugary bunny that hops close to her brown bear, unaware of the way she’s offended his sense of manliness, you grab his hand with both of yours, smiling sweetly, blinking your long lashes. “we can go sir”

“what did you do, doll?” his rough tone should’ve made you halt, but you, sweet soul, think that his usual half, lazy smile is going to appear on his mustache. you shrug, like it’s nothing, really, giggling playfully soft.

“treated you for once,”

he’s gonna find it funny, you thought.

but he doesn’t.

“did i give you permission to do that?”

your smile falters. you blink, bunnies are slow in their movements when they’re processing their surroundings. but then, they haste.

“what? oh, no, but i just wanted to pay for once. it was a j—“

“get in the car, now.”

oh no. you hope you didn’t ruin your date with your little prank. it was supposed to be harmless, just a mere little thing to take him off guard. but—

“it’s fine, you always pay, sir, i thought you’d find it funny that i paid for once” you try to justify yourself, but he doesn’t laugh. his characteristic authority and intimidating nature comes out, a second skin that fits him perfectly.

“i said get in the car, doll, don’t make me repeat myself again, angel”

and when you do arrive home, you don’t even have time to take off your heels. you’ve always been a good girl, obedient, well mannered. you never disobeyed him once.

he never had to punish you for anything.

you squint when he pats his thigh, sitting on the edge of your bed. the rustling of his leather belt being unbuckled. manspreading his legs, he invites you.

”how much did you pay?” his voice could cut on stone, deep, low and husky.

you almost shiver, poor bunny, you keep your eyes down, fidgeting with your hands,

“and don’t lie to me, sweetheart. i can check your account.”

your mumble is almost a mute one as you whisper ”sixty, sir”

his hand looks large, heavy, you knows it’s gonna leave red marks on your butt, as red as your flushing cheeks. ”good. gonna keep count until half of it, come here, princess, thirty spanks, and then you’re gonna be my good girl all over again. understood?”

“but—“

“not mad at you, princess. you’re still my good girl. you didn’t mean to misbehave, daddy knows that. but actions have consequences, angel, even if it was well meant and intentioned, now,”

he patted his thigh again, and you swallowed, docile eyes downturned.

“don’t make me wait, have to put those money back in your account”

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!🐰”

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.

hi hiiiii love ur writingggggg, are u taking any silly requests? 💕💕🤭

🐇thank you candy cane yep i am !! (please perceive me like this)

happy easter, bunny! <3

my beautiful sweet little flowers and butterflies, my cupcakes and funfetti cookies, happy Easter to you all <3333 ily and Jesus loves you too, been busy because it was Holy Week and Lent and well, Jesus Has Risen 🐇, He wanted me all to Himself 🩷