John Price X F!Reader - Daddy Kink, Age Gap, Corruption Kink

John Price x f!Reader - Daddy kink, age gap, corruption kink

John Price who’s convinced his best friend’s daughter is flirting with him :/

John wasn’t born yesterday. He sees the way you look at him, like you’re some young, dumb thing desperate for an older man to show you how it’s done. But you’re much too naïve to realize the mistake you’ve made inviting him into your bedroom.

The neighborhood barbecue seemed like a good enough place for you to dip your feet into the water, to test his patience and fish for some sort of reaction.

Your eyes linger on his hands when he uncorks a bottle of wine.

Your pulse races when he spreads his legs wider so that your knees touch under the table.

Your fingers fidget when you notice the bulge at the front of his jeans, desperate for something you couldn’t even put into words.

Lucky for you, you won’t have to.

He’d slip his fingers under the hem of your skirt before you’d even think of begging him to do it. He’d just pull the fabric of your panties to the side and expose you right then and there, deft fingers sticky with the slick that’s been leaking from your neglected pussy since the minute he walked in.

All the while, he holds a conversation with your father across the table. Deflowering his best friend’s only daughter with one hand, while he smokes a cigar with the other.

“J-John, I—“ you’d stutter, trying to keep up appearances.

“What? Need me to get ‘ya something, sweetheart?” He’d drawl, quirking his fingers against that one precious spot just so that he can watch the way you jump in your seat.

“I—I need…” you’d flush, sweating, “I need…more.”

John, well, he just smiles, pulling your panties back over your cunt, patting your covered pussy a few times before he stands from his chair.

“More to drink?” He lies, walking towards the house, “‘Course, darling. Thought I saw an extra pitcher back in the fridge…”

Your father’s so busy keeping up with his friends that he hardly notices when you leave a few minutes later. With all the commotion out in the garden, there’s no one in the house to eavesdrop…

Well, that, or see the way that John bends you over the counter in the kitchen, yanking your panties down around your knees just so he can get himself inside your sweet pussy all the faster.

“Fuck, love,” he grunts, wrenching a handful of your hair, “Keep moaning like that, ‘n your father’ll kick me out before we get to finish…”

The slapping of his hips echoes throughout the room, belt buckle jingling where it hangs from his belt loops.

“Mm—No, John—“ you squeal, standing on your tippy toes just to push your ass back up against him all the harder, “Daddy doesn’t know. He—he can’t know…”

“Mm—Fuck, but he will, baby,” John growls, “He fucking will.”

His chest flattens over your back, cock pulsing inside of you when you fall over the edge of another orgasm.

“‘Cause when I’m done with you,” the bristles of his beard tickle your ear as he whispers, “You won’t be callin’ him daddy no more. No.”

His hips push into you hard enough you swear you’ll be left with bruises when he finally fills you up…

“That’s what you’ll be callin’ me.”

do you ever wonder if jace and luke would’ve ended up more fucked up if rhaenyra kept the family in kings landing after driftmark? jace was already following aegons lead in bullying aemond. would that have continued? would aemond and luke have a different outcome or would all roads lead to the same end?

Oscar's coffee saga continues...

vampire!price poses the question on date three: “hypothetically, if they were real, would you want to be a vampire?” he nods along when you say no, you couldn’t imagine outliving your loved ones. that you’d miss the sunshine and food.

he nearly breaks his glass when you add, “and nothing is worth immortality, anyway.”

so flippant. so unimaginative. disappointing, but manageable. by tomorrow morning, you’ll have centuries to fix that attitude of yours.

“Is this something?” UH YEAH BABE, it’s everything!!!

ANYWAY now that we've progressed further into the plot of In Limbo, I can share the plot bunny that's been haunting my mind since June (: tw: non-con, dead dove, overall just... not fun time for chippy

Chip in another universe where Marco doesn't trust her (he trusts her. he knows he's got her bound to him. she's too skittish to run off) to make payments, so he keeps an extra close eye on her by forcing her to work at Makarov's strip club the moment she turns 18. Every tip she makes he's snatching it away and stowing it into his pocket. On the nights where it's a little slower, he'll let certain customers pay for a little... extra fun with her.

He's always keeping her close by. Arm wrapped around her waist, whispering things into her ear, having his own fun with her. So of course she attract's Simon's attention when he's trying to gather intel. Who better to interrogate other than the timid stripper who always seems stitched to Marco's side? She ought to crack easily, right?

i have... ideas. and they might just consume me, actually.

Part 3 for mean!Simon

Content: Consensual dom/sub between Simon and Johnny; dubcon interactions with reader and Johnny. Simon is a dick per usual.

When Johnny comes home, the first thing Simon does is set him back to rights. He's been gone a bit, long enough to need a refresher on how things are done. Just in case he's gotten some silly ideas about who calls the shots.

So once he's through the door, squeezed a little "oof" out of you, and stuck his tongue down your throat, Simon hauls him off for a "reintroduction."

Simon gets him off fully-clothed, whining and panting on his boot, before he's satisfied that Johnny's not forgotten any of his manners. He's rewarded by getting to suck Simon's cock unguided for a little while, drooling and moaning and choking himself to tears. It makes such a pretty sight, Simon is almost tempted to save his discipline for another time.

Almost.

"Up."

Johnny's flushed face twists with dismay, but he drags himself away.

"What have I always told you about your toys, hm?"

Cock-drunk, it takes Johnny a moment to understand the question and develop an answer.

"Tha' I hafta earn 'em," Johnny answers, voice ruined.

Simon hums, carding his fingers through Johnny's sweat-soaked hair.

"And to keep 'em?" Simon prompts.

"Take care of 'em."

Such a smart, well-trained boy... mostly.

He yelps as Simon twists his fingers into his mohawk and wrenches his head back, exposing the vulnerable line of his bobbing throat.

"Then you want to explain what the fuck you've been doing with that pretty pussy I got you?"

Johnny's blinks, sputters. But it's obvious he doesn't understand what Simon means or why he's in trouble. Simon sighs in disappointment, knowing that'll just upset Johnny more.

"'S my fault, I s'pose. Thought you were ready." He shakes his head, eases his grip on Johnny's hair. "Thought you knew how to take care of such a nice toy."

He remembers the unmarked skin of your plush thighs, your round ass. Tsks and shakes his head, watching Johnny paw wordlessly, pleadingly, at his pants.

"M'sorry, sir," Johnny whimpers, puffy bottom lip wobbling. "M'sorry, I'll do better."

"Fuckin' right you will," Simon growls, curling a hand around his vulnerable throat. "Because you're not getting her back 'til I've taught you better. Understand?"

Johnny only just bites back a whine. But he sees the way Simon's eyes narrow and quickly nods, leaning into the hand on his throat, body going lax in submission.

"Yessir," he slurs. "Understood."

Simon strokes his thumb over Johnny's pulse, rumbling with approval. "Atta boy. Your first lesson: if you don't mark something as yours, it's free for the taking."

He hauls Johnny up and throws him face down on the bed.

"Let's begin."

--

By the time he's done with Johnny, the sun has gone down and the house smells like food.

It seems you haven't been idle while they've been preoccupied. Dinner is simmering on the stove and you're just finished turning the dishwasher over.

You turn as Johnny enters the kitchen, expression carefully neutral when you notice the slight limp in his step and the new, dark marks on his neck. He comes right up to you, slinging his arms around your waist and burrowing into your hair.

"Missed you, bonnie," he sighs. "Didnae say so earlier in all the excitement."

From the doorway, Simon watches you blink and carefully circle your arms around him in return. But your body stays rigid, slanted ever so slightly away. Would maybe even be leaning back if not for the counter against your spine.

"It's alright, I um... I got it from the kiss," you assure, patting his shoulder.

He nuzzles in a bit and you seem curious, confused. "Everything okay, Johnny?"

"Aye, jus'... LT says I cannae play with you for a while."

Your eyes dart to Simon, going big and nervous when you realize he's observing.

"Ah. W-well... uh, we can worry about that later, right?" you soothe, gently pulling away to look him in the eyes. He's bit sniffly still, even though Simon made sure he was good after "lesson." You just seem to comfort him like a favored stuffy. "Let's get a proper meal in you for now."

Johnny nods, clutching onto yours hand as you lead him around the kitchen. Collecting serving bowls, spoons, ladling out stew in generous portions - at least for two of the servings - all with one free hand.

Johnny is quiet, drowsy. You keep glancing at him, but he only sways into you whenever you stop moving, rubbing his cheek against yours.

"Havnae been takin' care of you right," he mumbles as you're reaching for tumblers from the cabinet. "LT is gonnae teach me better, though."

You freeze, blood draining from your pretty face. Your eyes flick fearfully to Simon, right where you last saw him. He doesn't so much as twitch, staring you down until you visibly swallow and turn away. There's a little tremble to your hand now as you finish getting the glasses.

"That should be... interesting," you manage. "Ready to eat?"

"Aye, m'hungry. Missed your cooking."

You muster up a shaky smile and gently hand him a bowl of stew.

"That's good to hear, Johnny. C'mon, before it gets cold."

You send him off to the dining table. In his absence, you draw in a deep breath. Then pour Simon a glass of bourbon, taking both it, and his bowl of stew to his customary spot at the head of the dinner table.

He stalks from his place in the kitchen doorway, purposefully crossing you at the corner so that you're forced to flatten yourself against the wall and sidestep. While he seats himself, he hears you getting yourself a water, collecting your own bowl.

When you return, you try to sit next to Johnny as usual, who's sat at Simon's right. This way, he acts as a buffer between you two. But Simon clicks his tongue and you pause, turning to him with a curious blink.

"Over here." He gestures to his left side, putting you across from Johnny.

"Oh... um, okay."

You shuffle around to the other side, still shaky as you set your bowl down and take a seat. Simon watches you for a long moment as you studiously avoid his gaze, eyes on your water glass.

"This is your spot from now on. Understood?" he asks.

You tilt your head enough to make it obvious you're answering him. "Yes, sir."

"Look at me when you answer," he corrects.

You twitch a bit, shift uncomfortably as you force your eyes to look at his chest.

"Yes, sir," you repeat, soft and conciliatory."

"Atta girl," he gruffs. "Now fuckin' eat, the both of you."

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