stepdad!price x innocent!reader
note: this is a prequel to a possible series with stepdad!price x innocent!reader (obviously). reader is of age.
note 2: price is 37 reader is about 18-19 (DARK STORY !!!!!), reader gets picked up by price, 6'5 beefy price, shorter reader
໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
lying your head on your stepfather's shoulder, you pressed your front against his side--leg thrown over his as you two got comfortable on the couch as you began watching a movie. a blanket thrown over the two of you as you nuzzled your head further into his shoulder, nibbling on your lower lip as you focused intently on the movie.
price let out a shaky breath, his eyes glancing from you to the tv to you again.
don't do it.
she's forbidden fruit.
but she is the sweetest fruit of all.
he kissed the top of your head, and you replied with his action by taking his hand under the blanket and absent-mindedly twisting the rings on his finger.
one of his rings: the wedding band.
the wedding band from the wedding between your mother and him.
it seared his skin.
he could not help that he had gotten married to the wrong person.
it should have been you.
but he had to remind himself that you were much too young.
freshly an adult. and he was 37. 37.
what the fuck was wrong with him?
he can't help that he fell in wrong with you.
you were too young..too innocent. too pure. he had blood on his hands.
your small hands fidgeted with his large, warm ones as you traced his knuckles with your cold fingers, creating odd designs that warmed his chest.
he must have been much too into his thoughts, as you giggled at something that happened in the movie, grasping and ungrasping his hand as you continued to fidget with his rings.
you looked up at him, your lips so close to his as you smiled softly. everything in him wanted to capture your lips in a kiss. your first kiss.
but he knew he couldn't.
instead, his softened eyes watched your face with pure love.
you snuggled impossibly closer to him, practically on his lap.
"honey?" his voice was deep but soft. he cleared his throat.
your eyes watched the television, never leaving them as you hummed a small, "hm?"
price thought for a moment.
your mother was out for the weekend. he could have you now...
no.
"uh, nothin'." he concluded, and you paid no mind. his right hand crept down to your exposed thighs that were thrown over his lap. he tried to ignore the intense throbbing and want that thrummed under his jean zipper.
he slowly tickled his fingers along the span of your thigh, down your calf and to your frilly-socked foot as you cutely wiggled your toes. his index traced along the delicate laced-ruffles--then down to rub the inside of your foot.
after a bit, his hand made its way back up to the side of your thigh again, running his fingers along the soft skin.
he looked over at you again.
god, how were you so beautiful?
his whole being ached with want.
he loved you so much it hurt his heart.
"that a new bow?" he asked, pinching the pink knot at the base of your messy pony tail.
you nodded, excitedly. "mm hm! do u like it?"
you always wanted his approval, and he knew that.
"i love it, sweetheart, 's beautiful jus' like you." he smiled, watching your face darken with a red blush. you giggled shyly.
"thank you, daddy." you replied quietly, still fidgeting with his hand under the blanket.
daddy.
god, were you trying to kill him?
he knows you've always had a bit of a crush on him. ever since you two met.
and he's only a little ashamed to say he immediately fell for you when you both met.
he was with the wrong girl.
he loves times like this though.
it is probably bad to say, but he loves when your mother is gone.
it reminds him of a life he could have possibly one day with you...away from it all. he has the money to start a new life with you, just not the opportunity yet.
he loves when you walk into the kitchen, stuffie pressed against your chest, hair messy, lips n eyes puffy with sleep; his t-shirt on and your cute little pink panties.
he loves when your sleepy. you cuddle up closer to him.
just this morning you stumbled into the kitchen, rubbing at your tired eyes.
price was already dressed for the day--up since 6 am.
"good morning, sweet girl." his voice made your heart flutter.
you whined, padding to where he leaned back on the kitchen counter, wrapping your arms around his torso immediately. he picked you up with ease, kissing your face as you giggled.
he sat down on the couch as you straddled him tiredly, head pressed against his beefy chest.
"you're my favorite girl, y'know that?" he whispered, petting your hair.
it was true.
you were his absolute favorite.
and he was not just about to give that up.
