Latest Posts by bunnyinvanilla - Page 2

Dbf!john is soooooo father figure by George Michael

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

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

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

wanted to wish everyone a good lent, i love march and spring has always been my favorite season. it always fills me with love, hope and joy, like a soft breeze of optimistic faith. and how lucky are we to celebrate lent during spring, when flowers bloom? take it as a opportunity to walk closer to the Lord and spend more time with Him, cause he’s kind and loving and close to the broken hearted !!! Jesus loves you and if no one’s told you today i love you too🐇

hi angel!! dbf!price when a silly little boy comes to take us out for a date? would love to see it xx

dadsbf!john price doesn’t behave like he somehow owns the place, but he definitely behaves like he owns you, his best friend’s too young and sweet daughter. a raised brow and a questioning look are shot towards the main door when he hears someone knocking, piercing through the poor wooden door like one of his sharp rifles.

your sweet voice chirps from upstairs, yelling a “please get the door!” poor thing you’re still putting your shoes on, spraying perfume and wishing you were going on a date with john instead, your father’s too old best friend. so he stands up, lazily walks towards the door, like a mountain brown bear that strolls with outmost confidence of his surrounding,

his expression completely shifts, darkens even, when he opens the door to find a young, plain college boy at the front. he doesnt like him straight away. he looks too full of himself, too boring, too useless.

he narrows both of his brows now, frowning down at that frat kid, and though he was definitely too old and mature to be glaring down at a kid, he appeared very skeptical and menacing.

“wrong house,” he says it with a fake, almost sardonic smile, unapologetically. he shifts his position, crossing his arms and laying against the doorframe, expecting him to disappear right away. he looks scary, intimidating, with his huge, buff body and thick, dark facial hair. exuding confidence and outmost control.

the poor guy can only look up at him with a confused expression, trying to glance past those board shoulders that were blocking his view. “she gave me this address though,”

no manners, no greetings — john only chuckles, his mustache twitching, barely able to contain a wolfish grin. this guys definitely doesn’t have a chance with you. he’s tempted to tell him that you’re not even here. “not interested, kid.”

but the light tapping of your pink converse echoed behind his back, signaling you were walking down the stairs, quickly, like a jumping little rabbit, until you stopped to stand right next to him. “hi, sorry for making you wait,” you smile at the guy, a sweet and gentle smile, yet not taking enough space on your cheeks. john has seen you smile brighter, everyday you smiled like the sun itself. but now, it appears more polite that anything.

the guy only shrugs, giving you a charming smile that’s doesn’t make you blush. “it’s alright, your dad opened the door,”

at that, john’s jaw clenches, tilting his head in a not amused manner. his hand tickles with the need of punching his face, but he has to remain composed, as a soldier, as a captain, he’s used to facing the most difficult and challenging situations with calmness and composure.

“he’s not my dad,” you quickly reply, sensing john’s body growing stiffer — you smile again, turning towards john, glossed lips and strawberry perfume, adjusting your purse on your shoulder. your big eyes practically silently telling him how that guy was only a substitute for a date you couldn’t have with him. “see you later then, sir?”

“where are you going, doll?” not even acknowledging the guy in front of you, he takes a moment to admire your outfit, warm eyes tracing every inch of you.

“he just, wants to take me to the new ice cream place that has recently opened..”

now he glances at the guy, clearly unimpressed, suspicious and definitely not happy “does your dad know?” his voice sounds rougher than usual, deep and sharp. gruffness slipping from every word.

“yes, sir, it’s just ice cream” you reassure him, though your cheeks are already growing red, warm and flushed at his questions. why doesn’t he take you out then, since he doesn’t like the idea of you going out with a guy?

“i’ll get the car,” the latter says, casually humming and walking down the front porch, jingling his keys as he strolls towards a typical car college parking lots are filled with.

you mentally sigh, trying to remain optimistic about this date. you can’t help by feel nervous, your cheeks are a bright, flaming red and you’re gripping the strap of your purse tighter, somehow embarrassed about john seeing you going out on a date.

“uhm, w-well then i-“ but before you can open your mouth to say anything else, you feel your hand being taken and lifted towards john’s lips, who’s pressing a formal kiss on your palm. your heart flutters, like it always does whenever he kisses your hand, an habit he’s grown accustomed to since meeting you for the first time.

“be careful, doll, call old john if you need anything, or if you wanna get rid of him, ‘aight little one?” he grins against your hand, knowing well that if he can’t jeopardize your little date, he can make sure you’ll be thinking about him the entire time. he knows you need a real man, you need him.

he might not be able to indulge into you like he wants to, but you’re still his little girl nonetheless. he’s never been generous with his possessions, and since the first shy smile, you’ve belonged to him.

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT2Hm27pm/

i saw this and thought of your blog IMMEDIATELY 😋

*inhales* THIS IS MEEEEEEE oh my gosh im being serious this is literally me im screaming🍓

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🐇✨

you're soooo strawberry milk coded. imagine price never in his life ever thought strawberry was anything special until he met you. suddenly everywhere he looks he'll notice anything strawberry-themed and thinks of you. suddenly he sees strawberry as something special <3 because of all the strawberry milkshakes you love to drink, the strawberry desserts, and your strawberry perfume, he's obsessed with strawberries now

this is so self projecting because you’re so right cupcake omg, all my friends call me their strawberry bunny because im obsessed with strawberries🍓 :,)) thank you bby for sending this!!

before he met you, strawberry had always only been a fruit to him, pretty and bright, yes, but simply a mere fruit. but now, ever since meeting you and becoming your daddy (your lover), he sees strawberries everywhere, and they always remind him of you. strawberries are special now, you’ve made them special. before he met you, strawberry had always only been a fruit to him, pretty and bright, yes, but simply a mere fruit. but now, ever since meeting you and becoming your daddy (your lover), he sees strawberries everywhere, and they always remind him of you. strawberries are special now, you’ve made them special.

🍓 maybe it’s the bright red color, that reminds him of how your cheeks blush when you’re with him, shy and sweet. 🍓it’s your favorite perfume, you leave a sweet sugary scent behind you anywhere you go, smelling like strawberry cake. 🍓your favorite dessert, are always made of strawberries. strawberry shortcake, strawberry tiramisu, even those drinks you love so much, like strawberry iced tea or strawberry milkshake. he’s learned them all for when you go out on a date. 🍓you have so many strawberry themed things, shirts, earrings, keychains, your phonecase, stickers. 🍓when you kiss him, he can taste the strawberry lip gloss against his lips, staining his mustache and beard. 🍓you crave them all the time, the moment spring comes, you immediately ask him to go to the grocery store to “pretty please get me a box of strawberries, daddy?” 🍓always sipping strawberry milk when you’re reading your lovely books on the bed, on the couch, even on his lap.

he just can’t help but see them everywhere now, commercials, fabric patterns at any store, random trinkets. he knows how mi h you love strawberries, and it makes him chuckle, it’s endearing really, in the most adorable way. you could literally upturn the entire world for him, even the meaning of a simple fruit.

⋆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.

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.”

ideaaaa

older!price with his little bunny girl. he’s out one day and sees a bunny jelly at at the store and immediately buys it for her. ofc she HAS to show him how grateful she is after!

just i little idea!

- 🪽

oh my gosh im kicking my feet at the thought, need old!daddy price to gift me a bunny jellycat :(

the way you were beaming up at him with dollish, doe eyes, blinking with soft flutters of your eyelashes made john think you were the actual bunny plushie, and not the one he was hiding behind his back with a smug grin underneath his thick beard.

“what did you get me, daddy?” your question sounded so lovable, so sugary sweet, you hadn’t spoken with a tone laced with greedy expectation, but rather with a genuine and sincere shyness and gratitude for his thoughtfulness — that’s what made him want to spoil you even more, shower you with gifts until your sweetness rotted to the core.

“saw this at the store doll, reminded me of you” and when he stretched his arm and handed you the soft, plushy bunny stuffie, you gasped, forgetting how to exhale — you let out a happy, chirping little sound, your porcelain cheeks red and warm and your eyes sparkling like glitters.

it was so pretty, the fabric on the inside of its ears decorated with embroidered flowers, the button of his nose rosy and pointy, its legs and arms perfectly huggable — if you had been a plushie, you would’ve definitely been this one.

“oh my gosh daddy! it’s a jellycat!” you almost squeaked, taking the beautiful, pretty stuffie in your hands and admiring it — he probably had no idea how trendy those were among young girls, he must’ve simply seen a cute bunny that had reminded him of his bunny, and imagined she would like it, hence way, he'd just ended up buying it “thank you so so much sir, it’s so cute, i love it! thank you!”

he gave you a half lazy smile, enjoying seeing his little girl happy over such tiny things, and tucked a loose string of hair behind your ear, “you’re welcome, angel, im glad princess likes it”

you’d been wanting one for so long, you thought, as you pushed out your bottom lip and looked up at him with puppy dog eyes, keeping the stuffie close to your chest — you wanted to show him how grateful and thankful you were, but he never let you, claiming that was simply his duty as your daddy, as your man. you stood on your tippy toes, planting a heavy, yet soft kiss on his mouth, and another one, and another one, smiling fondly against his lips “thank you, sir, love you”

you lowered yourself, but this time, you placed your hands gently on his hard, muscular abdomen, and slowly tried to push him towards the couch, until the back of his knees hit the edge of it and he plopped down with a heavy thud, giving you a questioning look,

soon, that look was replaced by a warmer, hazy expression, as he let out a deep, low and gruff chuckle, watching you sinking down on your knees with your new precious bunny tucked underneath your forearm,

“doll, no need to repay daddy, wanted to give my baby a gift, love, to make you happy, sweetheart” he said that, but spread his thighs wider, parting his legs and throwing his arm behind the sofa’s head — he bucked his hips, and you gently rested your cheek on his clothed thigh, giving him the sweetest, most innocent look “then can i make you happy like you made me happy, daddy?”

how could he say not to his little one? with a lazy, amused tug of his mustache, he brushed his thumb over your puffy lips, sitting comfortably. “aight, love, s’yours after all, doll. do whatever you want”

then, the sound of his zipper being pulled down.

you were going to name the bunny cupcake.

What if for dads bsf, he comes on a family trip to the beach with you and your father.

You in your bikini, the sneaked glances when your dad isn't looking. MAYBE have him apply sunscreen on you!

dadsbf!old man john price in his late 40s n young, innocent sweet fem!reader who’s 21

you’ve always been a mountain lover, sunny countryside and green lavish trees filled you with the warmest joy, but just like he would any other summer, your dad has forced you to come to the beach with him, stating that ‘vitamin d is important’, but what convinced you is that you can just lay down, read your book and sip chill cold cocacola in peace, especially since your dads best friend john price is coming with you

laying happily under the cozy shadow of a colorful umbrella, heart shaped glasses and a book in your hand, your reading is cradled by the gentle hum of the wind moving through the waves, but you find it hard to focus on the lines on the paper as your eyes keep moving towards him — his muscular, buff, hairy chest is wet, burly and decorated with a few scars, his dark, graying hair and beard kissed by the sun as he shook his head, thin drops of water falling over the sand.

you take a shaky breath, feeling your cheeks grow warm and red, brighter than the sun, and quickly look away, blushing hard and feeling bad for staring so much — but gosh, he’s the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, so bulky and mature, aged in the most handsome way.

you toss over the towel, shifting position and continuing reading, already too caught up in the book to notice the looming and lurching shadow above you, that covered the sun rays — you tilt your head, and there he is, bundle of muscles, thick beard and intimidating, pure masculine energy.

“enjoying your book, love?” he asks playfully, his voice rough and low, quirking his brow as he let his eyes travel down your figure, shamelessly staring over your legs and adorable, vintage style bikin, all frills and ribbons — he sets his warm eyes back on your face, “what are you reading, Lolita?”

your cheeks are burning like flames, and you feel like you’re steaming with the hot air around you “m not, sir,”

he only laughs, a short, deep chuckle, before he tilts his head towards the water behind him “not gonna take a swim, doll?”

“dont think so, haven’t put on sunscreen yet..” you nibble on your bottom lip, head elsewhere, before you reach out to heap your bottle of coke “was waiting for someone to help me open this, can you help me sir, please?”

you give him big, doe eyes, your puffy lips parted slightly as your dolly features look up at him with such a tender, innocent look he needs to ignore how uncomfortable and suddenly tight his wet shorts feel.

“of course, doll face,” he takes it from your hands, opens it with a tiny, effortless twist of his large hand and hands it over to you, giving you a slight wink — you flame up under his gaze, and quickly bring the bottle up to your lips, mumbling a shy “thank you, sir”

the first sip is the best one, cold and frizzy bubbles running down your throat as you savor them — you let your eyes mindlessly set on him as you drink, almost choking with the coke when you notice how his own sharp ones are stuck on your lips wrapped around the bottle.

you swallow, placing the bottle down — your dad is swimming cluelessly back in the sea, near the limit of the string of buoys marking the swimming area, out of sight and of reach.

“need me to put sunscreen on you, princess, can’t have your delicate skin get burned now,” he says it almost like a command, stating it like you don’t have a voice in the matter and that makes your heart flutter — he brings his authoritative, caring and dominating attitude everywhere he goes, even when he’s not working, he’s a soldier in control of his surroundings inside and outside of the field.

“don’t wanna bother you sir, but thank you, alright..” you just blink, carefully placing your book down next to you and laying on the sandy towel, practically giving and serving yourself to him. he almost grunts at the sight, you, so young, too young, sweet and modest in your bikini, always dainty and refined.

“never bother me, sweet girl, stay still for old price, good girl” he grips — yes, grips — the sunscreen hardly and bends over one knee, applying it on both hands before starting to smear it over your skin, your arms, your legs and then your thighs. you almost gasp at the contact, his hands have always looked calloused, rough and scarred, like sandpaper, but they feel so good, warm and large against your skin.

he remains silent as he lower his hands and gently squeezed your thighs, a silent request, which you immediately followed by parting your thighs to him, still laying on your back — his hands apply the sunscreen on your inner thighs, close to where you ache the most, where you want him, but your bashfulness prevents you from addressing this need.

his thick fingers distractedly brush over your clothed clit, making you let out a soft, tiny sound, that sounded like a strangled whine and a little sigh — his eyes shoot out, completely and utterly in control, but when he spreads more cream next to your needy spot, you involuntarily buck your hips against his hand, making him clench his jaw and mutter down a restrained, growly “careful, doll, be a good girl and don’t move, said stay still”

you swallow back your embarrassment, your cheeks red and bright, whole face on fire as he shifts his hands on your tummy, caressing it and smearing more white cream on your flat chest, between your tiny, small boobs that are raising and falling with every hard breath.

“feel good, doll?”

you nodded, unable to say anything, but you wanted him to kiss you, to just take you however he pleased “yessir”

“good, on your tummy f’me now, come on” he pats your leg, and you quickly turn around, closing your eyes when you feel his large hands on your back, applying your cream — you arch your back against his fingers, earning a deep, amused chuckle from him.

“look at you, love, stretching yourself like a bunny, huh?”

you nod again, but this time, your eyes shoot open when you feel his thick mustache and beard pressed against the skin of your shoulder, pressing a light, small and tickling kiss — he lowers his hand and playfully pats your bottom, caressing it before drifting back. “done, love, all nice and safe.”

you’re left like this, blushing and wide eyed, watching him take a sip from your bottle of coke, and you can’t help but let your romantic mind think this is an indirect kiss.

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 ;,(

fancy some old man company ceo!john price x young innocent little girl!personal assistant reader? (he’s in his late 40s and shes 21)

usually, ceos weren’t the ones in charge of hiring new employees, they left the boring job to their assistants or managers — but this morning, upon coming to his office, john price was met with the sight of a young, disoriented little girl, dolled up in heels and standing cluelessly like a lost little bunny in the main hall, curriculum file in hand, probably not having a clue where to go —

being the gentleman he was, as the boss, price welcomed you inside his office, telling you not to worry about the manager you were supposed to meet up with for the application, whom you had originally planned the appointment with…

“the file says you’re twenty one and fresh out of college,” his eyes briefly emerged from the paper he was holding with his thick, ringed fingers, slowly focusing on every inch of your sitting stance, taking you in with no hesitation nor costume mannerism, shamelessly staring, in a way that made you swallow nervously and nod politely, your hands neatly folded on your lap, right where the hem of your skirt hinted to your bare thighs.

”y-yes, sir, i-im actually looking for a job as a librarian, but i’ve been in need of financial assistance since graduating, so in the meantime i could really use a part time position.” you could feel every nervous beat of your heart vibrating through your chest as you spose, your cheeks like burning flames, bright and red as you barely manage to stay still on your seat, trembling like a shy bunny — how could you find yourself working for him if you can’t even meet his gaze? “this one would be my first job..”

price just hummed, leaning back on his chair that crackled under his massive body, wrapped in a expensive tailored suit, bulk and buff muscles giving him an intimidating appearance — his thighs spread wide, legs parted.

you were a young, shy, pretty thing, sweet and polite, in the prime of her blooming youth and just eager to find her place into this world, to prove herself and make someone proud, earn their (his) praise. he had lot and lot of experience behind his back, even more years, and he was sure you would be the best, obedient good girl just by looking at you.

john price could be that someone, he was old enough to be your father, burly and exuded power and security, exactly what you needed — he could use a sweet, young personal secretary like you, all doe eyes and in need of praise and approval, make his exhausting job as the boss less stressful, you would get him lunch or coffee, print paperwork sheets for him, bring him new cigars, and even be his lap bunny, his trophy little girl, warming him up.

“you’re hired,” the words he muttered were so rough, gruff and low you had to blink twice, before opening your mouth and closing it right after.

“im sorry? oh- but— uhm, are you sure?” you felt a little dumbstruck by the rapidity of the interview, but you were thankful nonetheless, “i thought I’d have to answer more questions..”

“we have a lot of work to do here and never enough employees, sweetheart, im sure your help will be..” he let his eyes trail down on your figure again, slower this time, his large hand coming to scratch his thick, dark and graying beard as he studied you “well appreciated and rewarded, little one”

could you like..pretty please, send dadsbf! old man daddy john price requests..? pretty please?🐇 wanna write for him sb sniff ALSO to all my beautiful sweet berries who’ve sent me reqs in the past i do read them and they’re all saved in the drafts, as a college girlie i don’t have quite a lot of free time to post them so please be patient ily!

🍓| 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?

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.

dads best friend old man!john price who meets his teammate’s young, sweet and shy little daughter when he’s invited home to have a casual dinner with his longtime friend and colleague.

he knew his friend had a daughter, he’d heard about you but he’d never seen you — and when he came in, he saw how dollish and innocent you actually looked, perched comfortably on the sofa with a strawberry lemonade in your hand and an open book on your lap, bare legs cuddled underneath your butt, thighs barely covered by your soft, flowery skirt as you were mindlessly reading your lovely book — barely of age, a little bunny minding her comfort in her little cozy space. you lifted your angelic face from your book only to be met with that military veteran, all rugged looks, intimidating with his buff and muscular body, his thick, dark hair and graying beard — unable to hide your evident blushing cheeks, blossoming into a vibrant and bright red, you only gave him a polite, timid smile, quickly darting your head down and hide behind the pages, with a fluttering heart beating fast in your chest.

john let his eyes slowly travel over your figure, the string of curious amusement pulling at the corner of his lips, making his mustache twitch slightly — such a little pretty thing you were, ribbons in your hair and big, doe eyes, you really must’ve been your father’s precious darling, looking like the most innocent bunny he’d ever seen, so young

only the voice of your father calling him from the kitchen and telling him to come have a beer with him pulled his attention away from you, and with one last lazy, shameless glance over you, he began walking steadily and confidently towards the kitchen, leaving you in flames, burning red and staring at the way the muscles of his back flexed with every movement, his broad shoulders stretching underneath his shirt — he was the most attractive and charming man you’d ever seen, mature looking and handsomely seasoned, and definitely too old, maybe even older than your own father’s age (perfect for you)

with a tiny, silent breath, you blinked down at the book again, trying to jump right back into that forbidden love story you’d been reading, and to not imagine your dad’s best friend as the main love interest, who just so happened to be too much older than the girl protagonist and more that twice her age :)

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

your blog is so cuuute!! hop hop hop!! it makes me think of price absolutely loving to have his hands on you at any given moment you two are together because he is all rough and hard edges so you're like his little bunny stress ball he can squish squish squish <3

ohhh my goshhh yesss his hands are on you all the time, calloused from his heavy labor in the military, used to holding and carrying heavy weapons and rifles — they’re thick, large, heavy and hairy over the wrists, and you love his fingers, rough and warm and often ringed

he’s always groping you though ;(<3 squeezing your chin, pinching your cheek, when you’re sitting on his lap, his hands are always trialing up and down your inner thighs, massaging the skin and squeezing it like his personal stress bunny ball ;( under your skirt, tracing a path from your thigh all the way down to your knee, and then back up again — he does it so casually, a firm, lazy, non sexual reminder of his dominance over you, or to relax with something soft and squishy.

when he walks past you, he always slides his arm around your waist and hip, giving you a gentle squeeze before strolling away to wherever he’s headed to, or when someone calls for him, he puts his large hands on your waist, bending his arms and softly moving you to the side, muttering a “be right back, love”

bunnies love being pet on their cheeks and on their butts. same goes for you. you love when he holds your red, blushing warm cheeks with both his hands, feeling every scar and skin texture of his healed wounds against your face as he squeezes them together, the cold metal of his rings almost leaving his print on your skin “look at my sweet, good girl..”

when you’re working behind the bar and he walks by, he always lands a delicate smack on your butt, making you joint and blush, glaring at him “daddy! hey!”

“what? am i not allowed to touch my bunny?”

you’re his personal squishy toy.

“stop that, a costumer might come in” you quickly try to regain composure, rummaging back with the cups to make sure every glass is neatly placed, your long hair covering the way your cheeks are burning bright and red. “angel, i own this place, i can do whatever i want with my little girl if i want to”

or let’s say you’re reading your lovely books on his lap while he’s working on some military top secret paperwork, one hand is busy writing down and the other one is on your legs, swinging on his sides — he just needs to have his hands on you aaaall the time, brushing your hair, caressing it, squishing your waist, your hips, because he’s so tough and grumpy and rough around the edges and you’re just so malleable and soft like a stuffie :(

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꒱⸒⸒

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

Hiii! Ok I am sorry if this is stupid but I’m a little confused . Is the reader an actually bunny, a human with bunny ears (so a hybrid idk), or neither? I’m just not sure.

Thanks!

you’re not stupid at all cupcake! lol she’s actually a human girl, but she’s price’s bunny, that’s her nickname because she resembles one both physically (her appearance) and personality wise cause she’s soft and sweet, but when I make bunny analogies in my fics it’s all a metaphor, she’s not an actual hybrid 🐇🐇 she’s his bunnygirl :)

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?”

Captain John Price 🤎

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.

"honey, I have scars and tattoos that are older than you" I swear, my brain broke down and I read all your posts, thank you, I love you

hehe thank you teddy bear that’s my favorite line of mine as well ily ૮꒰ྀི∩ᵕ∩꒱ྀིა

This figure of Levi is too much for my heart and my empty pocket.

Needd 🧸🧸🧸