Levi Looks So Young The Last Time We See Him. Rounded Cheeks, His Usual Exhausted Expression Gone. Instead

i don’t know if you’ve written about this, but I can imagine dbf!john leaning towards you when his rabbit isn’t talking too loudly to be overheard, and tugging on the little loops of her denim skirt to pull her a little closer... and I think there are some sparkles on his clothes from his doll, who found herself some strawberry-scented glitter perfume.

requested by @anattami 🍎

dads best friend!john price and his soft, bunny girl can indulge in each other’s presence with subtle gestures, silent yearning, hidden and lingering touching. especially at a family gathering, or when your dad’s around. if your father invited him over for a barbecue, to have dinner together, dbf!john would have to act distant, like you’re just a little girl, a kid he knows through your father, who happens to be a longtime friend. brooding, detached, like he doesn’t even acknowledge your presence.

but when no one’s looking, he slips into your personal space, looming over you like a damn bodyguard. he notices when you stop talking because whomever you were talking to wasn’t really listening, when you speak quietly not to be overheard. he hooks his rough fingers into the loops of your denim skirt, subtly yet firmly pulling you closer to him, until your back presses against his chest, and your breath hitches. a silent, imperceptible movement that no one seems to notice.

when no one’s looking, dbf!john would lean over the table to grab a beer and subtly lean closer to you while you’re sitting reading a book, in your own little world, to whisper a low, deep “look pretty today, bunny, cute skirt.”

and he definitely doesn’t miss the way you tense your thighs together when he speaks with such a rough, gruff tone. the way your cheeks bloom red, flushing timidly.

or when dbf!john grabs you by the waist to move over, passing by you. squeezes your hips for a short moment, making you almost stumble and pour your iced strawberry juice all over your sundress.

like the old gentleman he is, dbf!price follows you to the garage to help you carry water bottles to the back yard, but those are long forgotten on the bench when he picks you up and effortlessly sits you on the flat table next to the fridge, gets between your parted, sweet thighs and devours your mouth, tongue and lips kissing yours with all the pent up restrain.

you throw your arms around his neck, locking your legs around his waist to pull him closer, whimpering between the rough, heavy kiss. he grunts against your lips, his tongue pushing against yours as he takes as much as he can within the short time he has.

and now, his his dark shirt is littered with sparkling glitters, shining like tiny twinkles that your strawberry glitter perfume roll has left on him — you put some on your wrists and your neck, but now you’ve left a trace of it all over him.

“always a good girl for your old man, mmh, bunny?” he practically growls against your mouth, steady and scarred hands holding you by your waist. “there she is, all f’me,”

you nod, breathless, pink cheeks bright and warm under his hungry gaze. he can only take advantage of these short moments, when no one’s around — you can’t even speak, far too fuzzy and dizzy, shy and looking at him like a lost, delicate bunny with those doe lashes. he needs to be careful, quick. he has to haste, he knows he can’t do these things, he’s not a good man. guilt and desire block his throat and he reluctantly slows the kiss.

it’s like indulging in something he knows he can’t do, he shouldn’t, just for a short moment.

“good girl, doll, my angel, minding her business, always so quiet,” another kiss, heavy, longing, “sweet as sugar. aight, back there, gonna make your pa worry,” he pats your thigh playfully, letting you take a little jump to stand on the floor, brushing down the layers of your skin to recompose yourself, still too red and embarrassed to say anything.

he picks three bottles of water with one arm, winks at you and strolls back to the yard, still smelling like you, vanilla and strawberry.

@ always tired and cold anon CHECK YOUR THYROID!! It could be hypothyroidism (and if it is, check your antibodies because it’s very likely hashimoto’s and needs to be addressed asap)

dolphin anon read this🐬!!! please take care of yourself and make sure to go to the doctor if you’re still not feeling well my love I’ll pray for your health💕

i pray for peace to wash over my heart like waves on the shore. i pray for more patience, more warmth, move love, to fill me up. i pray for contentment over complaining. i pray for a calm acceptance of what God’s plan is for me. i pray you feel God’s energy when you’re around me.

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.

how about the opposite? John being jealous of his girl getting hit on by a younger guy perchance ?

ohhh cupcake, daddy price would be livid :) when you get jealous it’s all fun and cute, but when he does? hooff

let’s say you were working that day, but the bar was pretty quiet, therefore, you’d found a moment to read in peace, completely lost in the escapism and beauty of your book.

your chin rested on your palm, elbow pressed against the wooden surface of the countertop as you leaned forward to get a better view of the pages — still standing, you shifted nimbly on your own position, using the edge of the counter to keep yourself steady. “pretty and a reader, heavenly match”

you lifted your head, flipping the page of your book without even casting a glance down — a guy stood in front of you, a half smile plastered on his completely shaved face. You had never seen him, he must’ve been a new costumer.

“Good evening, sorry, do you want to order?” you quickly and carefully close the book down, pushing it closer to your chest. You apologized for not being aware of his presence, having been too caught up in your reading.

“Don’t apologize, you’re reading in a pub…maybe I could get a drink in a library?” he smiled boyishly, cocking his brow and leaning against the counter.

you let out a light laugh his joke, finding it funny. The sound echoing through the bar, limpid and melodic.

“yes, I admit I might’ve chosen the wrong setting,” you giggle, picking your pink notebook from the pocket of your skirt.

“what can I get you?” you asked politely, giving him an innocent smile — your gentleness and kindhearted nature always showed up. You didn’t know him, he looked older than you, probably in his late twenties, but his face seemed too young, too..clean. Too casual.

“you could start with your number, sweet cheeks”

your smile faltered for a moment, and you lowered your notebook down, clicking the back of the pen. “Oh, no, uhm..I’m flattered, but-“

“come on, you’re too cute to be all alone in a place like this,” he gestured behind him, throwing a playful wink your way. “besides, you could spend the night doing..something else other than…reading and working. Somewhere else, like my place, see if you’re as innocent as you look,”

he leaned his forearms against the counter, and you couldn’t help but feel distressed — you’d never found yourself in such a position, you wanted to refuse his advances, but remain kind.

“she’s spoken for, boy” you heard him before you saw him, the brooding figure that slowly appeared behind the guy.

john was huge, a mountain man, a big, brown bear, and he appeared more fearsome and intimidating than usual, looming down at the poor guy.

he didn’t wear his usual, signature half smirk, his mustache was completely still, and you could swear his jaw was clenched, tensed.

the guy turned towards him, perking his brows annoyedly “geez, who are you, mate, her father?” you almost widened your eyes at that, and you felt the need to intervene, much more to save that poor soul’s life.

john squinted his eyes down at him, the muscles on his neck bulging slightly as he inched closer, his voice as rough and sharp as a knife “this is not a place for sucklers, go get some warm milk elsewhere, toddler”

even you shivered at the tone of his voice, spine-chilling, dauntingly deep.

“what’s wrong with you, man? why don’t you mind your business?”

“she is my business, talk to her like that again, and I’ll make your milk teeth fall one by one, kid. Get out, you don’t wanna make an adult mad”

the guy scoffed, straightening his back and facing him, but john was as still as a statue, glaring down at him. He tilted his head, his dark, graying facial hair only giving him a darker, gloomy appearance. “Understood?”

something on the guy’s face changed, a glimpse of nervousness, unease written all over his features. He wasn’t smiling anymore, his lips glued together, his adam’s apple gulled with fear. john was a trained captain in the military, he could be very, very scary, in a grouchy, sulky and frightening way — I didn’t wish to see that guy end up unconscious on the ground — he only shook his head, stood taller and avoided meeting John’s eyes, lowering his own gaze before turning around and stroll to the way out, mumbling a quiet ‘whatever’

john followed him with his eyes, before setting them on you — you pressed your book to your chest, timidly looking at him with the purest eyes “are you mad, sir? promise you I didn’t say anything, he- he approached me and-

“never mad at you, precious” he walked closer until the countertop was the only thing separating us, and lifted his hand to place it underneath my jaw, fingers sprawling to grab it. “but don’t get scared if daddy gets rougher later, have to relieve some tension, princess”

you only blink, the promise of his words a thrill that sent butterflies flying around your poor belly, your cheeks grew red, pink like the strawberry milkshake you like so much.

he squeezed your jaw, giving you an expecting look, like a professor waiting for your to answer his question properly. “who do you belong to?”

a daily reminder, just to make sure you remembered all the time, didn’t forget.

“you, sir” you replied without even having to think, blinking your doe, big eyes at him, working your innocence to gain his attention.

“good girl, go back to your book, don’t need to work anymore today”

🍓| 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?

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 :)

levi's grunts, reblog if you agree

(I don't remember if I sent this kind of plot or not, but—) Bear hybrid!John x Baker! User, please ><

young bunny hybrid baker fem!reader x old man brown bear hybrid!john price, laaarge age gap as always cause its my sweet treat 🥧🍰🐻🐇 although i write about a bunny reader, this is my first fic where she’s an actual real rabbit hybrid!

”wha—what?”

john finally glanced back at you, darting his eyes away from the honey covered pastries behind the glass. your bunny ears perked up, a clear sign of curiosity, and even surprise.

a slow smile made its way through his dark, thick facial hair, even his fluffy, short brown bear ears tickled in response to your own surprise. “yeah, sweet thing. I’ll have all of your honey pastries, please.”

“but—“ you certainly hadn’t expected that. usually, the only large orders that you’d packed had been acts of big donations, preparation for big events or parties, but no one had ever ordered the entire selection of a specific pastry.

you blinked innocently, caught off guard, from behind the counter. that man was huge, a mountain body of a big, buff brown bear, imposing, muscular and broad. his facial hair was thick, dark and littered with gray in all the right spots. “are you sure? this is not a mean prank…right sir?”

he chuckled. you were the most adorable and sweet bunny he’d ever laid eyes on, your soft ears now were slightly downturned, a sign of hesitation, shyness and an innocent that smelled better than the treats you’d baked.

“no, sweet’heart, s’not a joke. gotta store up food at home for the hibernation” he spoke with quiet dominance, a tone of both confidence and tenderness, as if he was amused by your sweetness.

“oh, right..” you blushed, your cheeks red and warm, but you gave him a shy smile, realizing how silly your doubt must’ve sounded — he was a bear hybrid, obviously he’d have to store up some food for his long slumber, “right, sir, sorry, i’ll get them for you”

you leaped, almost jumped, to the back door, gathering as many paper bags as you could, and john’s eyes fell on your uniform skirt, catching sight of a soft, round white fluffy mass of fur on your lower back — your bunny tail, twitching with your every move.

a short, deep sound vibrated from his throat, like a low little growl of acknowledgment. you were sweet, small and delicate, with your red cheeks and twitching ears as you carefully packed the glazy pastries in the bags. you tried to mentally keep count of how many treats you were giving away, but you almost lost count.

he definitely loved honey, you thought. he remained silent, keeping an intense, attentive eye on you, making you flustered and embarrassed, trying to make haste. when you’d finished off filling those bags, your hands were sticky and smelled like honey, and you mindlessly brought one hand to your lips, licking away and sucking the honey off your fingertips.

john's ears twitched, it was almost imperceptible, but his eyes were glued on your fingers. he bet you tasted so much sweeter than honey, sugary and velvety. a young, too young, sweet little thing.

he tucked his hand in the pocket of his trousers, it was large, thick and hairy, and folded some money, that immediately seemed to be way too much more than the actual price he had to pay.

“thank you, doll. keep whatever change there’s left.”

you smiled kindly at him, “oh, thank you, sir—“ but immediately shut your lips when you opened your hands and saw how much money he’d given you. it was too much of a tip. “sir, it’s too much, i can’t accept it”

“of course you can, love, let this old man thank a sweet bunny like you properly” he muttered back, a deep, low and rough tone that fueled your blush, painting your whole face red.

you gently picked the bags and handed them over to him, fluttering your lashes at him with an innocent, gentle smile. “thank you so much, sir, hope you like them. come back if you do!”

he smirked, giving you a wink, noticing how your bunny ears turned backwards and your face flamed red. your heart fluttered and a rush of warmth spread over your belly, and he could smell it, in the midst of all that sugary air, coated with all kinds of cream, biscuits and cookies — your growing arousal.

when john walked outside of the little bakery, he opened the first bag, ready to indulge in one little treat before going home, but before his hand could dwell into it, he noticed a little thin note attached to the bag — he removed it, and his mustache twitched with entertainment when he saw a little sketch of winnie the pooh, next to a little ‘thank you, come again!’ and your name, ending with a heart.

oh, he was definitely coming again. he wanted to taste more than just your pastries.

as if you’re holding the world in your hands