#I did appreciate and approve of his fear though

[xx-sketchy-xx]

him

I need more Fanart of him (btw I just wanted to draw cursed dally lol)

Also he slays as a girl lol

[thekinslayed]

Lay Your Claim

summary | When rumors questioning his wife's fidelity reach the king's ears, Aemond seeks out answers in his own ways.

pairing | king!aemond targaryen x wife!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI!, oral (f), rumored infidelity, exhibitionism, forced voyeurism, jealous and possessive king aemond 🫦, porn w little plot

wordcount | 2.1k

note | this is in the same realm as The Way to a Man's Heart but can still be read as a standalone :) next part will be a backstory for context.... maybe

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

“...and some sprouting qualms over the Reach over farmland disputes, but I have good faith in the Tyrells to see the problem squandered before the need for the crown’s intervention…”

The late afternoon sun beamed warmly in soft rays into the small council chamber. The young king leaned against his spacious chair, rolling the green marble around in its plate as his men droned about the most minute details unworthy of his attention. Being king meant putting out small fires before extinguishing larger ones, done with a simple word or a nod, often by a wave of his hand. 

“Whatever you deem a suitable course of action has my approval, Lord Hand. Just see it done, yes?” Aemond ordered, satisfied when his trusted advisor nodded at his words. The assembly soon adjourned, and the council filtered out of the chamber, leaving the king be. Though he was not alone for long, for his wife soon walked through the same doors, sworn guard in tow. Aemond beckoned you forward with a nod, good eye running down the length of your embroidered gown. He noted his gifts adorning parts of you— the rings on your fingers, the gleaming sapphire around your neck, even the Myrish lace that adorned your overskirt. 

“You called for me, my king?” you asked softly. Always so prim and proper, with your hands clasped on your front and your spine erect like a doll on strings while stood a respectful distance from your husband.

“I did, wife. Some whispers have reached my ears, regarding an occurrence between you and one of your ladies. The Lady Wylde, I heard,” he spoke, observing as you started to fidget, bright eyes trailing away from his sight. “Do these whispers bear any truth?” 

It was silent as Aemond waited for you to speak, as calmly as his meager patience would allow him. “They do, my king. She… The lady said some things that threatened to taint my good name,” you said, head slightly bowed in shame. His face remained stoic, not betraying the sliver of surprise at your easy admittance. Perhaps he would get his answers quicker than he intended.

“I am curious to know what brought this on… if you would indulge me,” he urged, shifting to sit taller while his elbows leaned onto the table’s edge. Aemond noted the slightest flicker of your eyes towards him, before returning to your feet once more. 

“I-I do not wish to trouble my king with trivial nonsense whispered between women.”

“They are serious enough if it moved you to strike her across the cheek,” Aemond pressed before you could wave him off. In the corner of his lone eye, he observed your sworn shield. A knight from your region, sworn into the Kingsguard as part of your lord father’s negotiations for your hand. He didn’t think much of it then, but the growing whispers around court about the kinship between his queen and her knight were starting to unnerve him, like an incessant ticking in his ear. 

He won’t pry for now. Not directly at least, not while your knight stood tall by the chamber’s doors, eyes cast somewhere in the distance and avoiding his sharp stare. Still, the king would get his answers in some shape or form. 

“It is no matter now, but I fear my emotions got out of hand and I acted out of turn by striking her. ‘Twas a shameful act for a queen, I am sorry,” you expressed, slightly pouting. Your honesty seemed to be sincere enough, eyes bright as you raised your head to look directly at him. 

“What do you apologize for? The lady displeased you, did she not?” he questioned, brow raised in perplexed interest. Aemond would admit though the rumors seemed rather farfetched in his imagination, though the probability of its actuality not so much. It was not as though you were in his bed every night, nor him in yours. Despite the barriers that had been toppled in the course of your marriage, Aemond had never been one to adept in proximity. His expertise lay in keeping people within an arm’s reach, even in his marriage. Yet you never complained, and he presumed you were happy enough. Perhaps that happiness had been earned elsewhere, and the thought of it made his chest thump with an ugly heat. 

“W-well, yes, but House Wylde is a trusted ally of the crown. I understand our need for their support and their lord’s wisdom on your council. I fear that I may have tainted that pact with my actions–” 

Your words were cut short by a raise of his hand, flush lips clamping shut. The king could smirk at how obedient his sweet wife was, a dutiful little thing that never wished to displease him. It was a funny thought to imagine you capable of seeking a lover, in all your sheltered upbringing and devout faith, though it was too soon to dismiss such a thought. “No lord on my council comes before their queen. You have no need to fret over this, wife. In truth, I am pleased,” he said, smiling crookedly as confusion painted your handsome features. 

“You are?”

“Yes. I have hoped for you to find your voice— as sovereign, as my queen, and it seems you are growing the courage.”

Hearing his words made your face brighten in surprise, before warming to a timid flush at his praise. He raised his hand to reach for you, beckoning you closer. Taking short steps forward, your ringed hand fit smaller in his broader palm when you placed it in his hold. His grip was firm, though not overbearing, as was his other hand that gripped your waist to pull you closer.

“You would tell me if there are any secrets you hold that could harm the crown and its reputation, yes?” he asked, soft tone bearing a sharp edge that noted his warning. The implications of his words were evident in the way you obediently nodded, visibly gulping in his tight hold. He knew his wife was smart enough to not consider him a fool.

“Of course, husband. There is naught I wish to do that would be an insult to my king, I promise you this,” you uttered, sealing your vow with a kiss on his ring. Aemond leaned back with a pleased sigh, sneaking a glance toward the door where your knight still stood. He bit back the mischievous smirk that threatened to lift his slim cheeks, fingers thrumming on his thigh. 

“Good. Sit.” Your husband nodded towards the table’s edge. Your mouth opened to voice your confusion his intent, but the stern look in his eye left no room for question. You slid through the space between his legs and the wood, tucking your skirts beneath your bottom as you perched on the grand oak. Aemond hummed in satisfaction at your pliancy. Very obedient indeed. 

“What are you…” you started, interrupted by the king finding the hem of your skirt and lifting it to your hips. Panicked, you clamped a hand down to save yourself some decency. A moot attempt, for his grip was stronger than yours, and he had already exposed your smallclothes to his eye. “Aemond!”

“I wish to please my queen as she has pleased me. Think of it as a present of sorts,” he said, smiling casually as though his calloused palms weren’t caressing the exposed flesh above your stockings. His amusement only heightened at the flush starting to color his queen’s cheeks as you stammered.

“You are most gracious, my king, b-but here?” you questioned, head quickly turning to look at the two knights standing by the doors. Both your sworn shields were adept in playing invisible, expert in finding something else to cast their eyes upon unless they were needed. They would not react to whatever the king did with his wife in their privacy, even if he took her right before them. 

“I do not see a problem why not,” Aemond shrugged. You started to voice another attempt of reason, but he had already made quick work of loosening the ribbons holding your smallclothes together. The king was efficient in all things, wasting no time to dive head first into your lovely cunt.

With every sigh he coaxed from your lips, the more your resolve started to crumble, and the more it spurred him on. Mewling, your dainty hand grabbed his silver tresses, pulling on his roots to urge him away. Your husband lifted his head to look at you, with your breasts pushed flush against your neckline as you heaved, and eyes starting to grow glazed with desire. “What is it? Do you want me to stop?” he asked, tilting his head in teasing.

Your teeth caught your plump lower lip as you bit them in thought. Your hold was tight on his mane, a grounding pressure that kept him from devouring you the way he wanted. Wordlessly, you pushed him back between your thighs, giving him full reign to do with you as he wished. 

Saccharine essence started to coat his tastebuds, your flower nice and warm against his tongue. The extent of your experiences in the ways of the flesh as man and wife was limited, he’ll admit, seldom venturing past the goal of planting his seed in your womb by the end of it. The king’s wife was virtuous and proper, unfamiliar with seeking her own pleasure when she was so deserving of it. Aemond had started to give you a taste for it, on the nights when his blood ran hotter for you and he let himself indulge in all that you would give him. Those evenings would end with them slick in sweat and rightfully flushed, and you would always turn so timid as he cleaned you up, right before he returned to his chambers for the night. You would never say it out loud, but he saw it in your eyes— an insatiable fire starting to be stoked.

Your voice started to grow in volume the deeper his tongue prodded into your slit, a sweet song floating through his ears and rushing straight to his cock. His thumb soon found your pearl, rubbing tight circles on your nubbin. This only served to heighten your arousal, moans now properly echoing through the vast chamber. The sound of it made him smirk triumphantly against your folds, feeding the fire that had him eating you like a man starved. Your fingers never left his hair, using it as leverage as you started to ground your hips against his face. His eye flickered to catch a peek, and he found you with your head thrown back and mouth fallen agape. 

It didn’t take long for you to start gushing out your release, nearing the point of screaming as you did so. Your voice all but shook the stone walls, reverberating through the vast chambers while you trembled underneath his hold. It was the loudest Aemond had ever heard you, even more than the night he had let you ride him in the bath. A sick pride swelled in his chest while he lapped up your sweet honey, hardened length jumping in his breeches as it demanded reprieve. 

Aemond opened his mouth as he pulled away to voice a teasing remark when you grabbed the leather of his doublet and pulled him up, smashing your lips against his in a hungered frenzy. You palmed at his bulge, rubbing him through his breeches. A knock on the council doors echoed through the room before you could start unlacing him, your sworn shield swiftly moving to open the entrance before the king could bark out in anger.

Fucker. 

Your handmaiden moved to enter, but quickly bowed her head upon seeing the compromising position she found you in. “M-my deepest apologies, Y-your Graces,” she stuttered. Aemond had opened his mouth to scold, but your hand on his chest stopped him before he could spit out his wrath for the disturbance.

“It’s alright, Ada. Was something the matter?” you said softly. Ada remained with her head bowed, shoulders slightly quivering in fear under the king’s deathly stare. 

“Her Grace wished to be notified when princess Jaehaera’s lessons finish for the day. Afternoon tea has been prepared in the gardens, as her grace requested,” she squeaked. The reminder seemed to make you remember yourself, returning to your feet and letting your skirts fall back to the floor. 

“Right. Thank you,” you sighed. The young handmaiden curtsied in haste, before scurrying off when you dismissed her. Your gaze turned back to your husband, who still had his eye narrowed somewhere by the chamber’s entrance. His attention returned as you softly caressed his clothed chest, smiling up at him sweetly. “Come join us?”

It was then that Aemond made his decision. He would let the rumors be. He had no wish to prod nor question his dear wife, but let it be known that he was never one to share, in spite of his reservedness and outwardly cold nature. His answer would come on the nights you begin to seek him out, singing your sweet song of pleasure beneath him as he spurred release after release from your sweet cunt. For now, he was pleased, smirking devilishly at the sight of your knight’s clenched jaw as he left the small council chamber with his queen’s hand nestled in his elbow.

[unitedhamilton]

Other Options

Summary: When Lewis pisses you off, you take it to social media.

A/N: Hello petals!! I was listening to Kendricks new album and this smau idea popped into my head. Idk why but here we are!! I know the holidays are tough, so I'm always here to talk if you need anything!! Reblogs are always appreciated!! Enjoy lovelies 💜💜

July 5, 2024

Liked by ynbestiefinsta, charles_leclerc, and 34 others

ynfinsta drop me to the ground like you did with Not Like Us 🛏️😻

View all 9 comments

ynbestiefinsta whewwww its hot in here

ynfinsta tell me about it 🥵 lewishamilton @ ynbestiefinsta don't encourage her ynfinsta who are you?

lewishamilton can you not do this?

ynfinsta sorry XNDA I only know Kendrick Lamar 🤔

landonorris favorite song GO

ynfinsta DON'T MAKE ME CHOOSE (its LOVE)

August 19, 2024

Liked by pierregasly, taliamar, and 39 others

ynfinsta the soon to be better looking one in red

View all 10 comments

charles_leclerc I DID NOT APPROVE OF THIS

charles_leclerc I HAVE TO RACE AGAINST LEWIS I FEAR FOR MY LIFE charles_leclerc should I just crash to avoid what is coming for me? lewishamilton yes ynfinsta NO?!

lewishamilton what could i have POSSIBLY done to make you post this?

ynfinsta i TOLD you to STOP LEAVING YOUR CLOTHES NEXT TO THE HAMPER lewishamilton OKAY??? YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO POST THIS THOUGH ynfinsta oh well i think charles looks great 😋 charles_leclerc help me

taliamar you know... I see it

ynfinsta we can kiss miniminter hello? taliamar ok 😊 miniminter HELLO?

landonorris i wish it was me 💔

November 15, 2024

Liked by masonmount, judebellingham, and 54 others

ynfinsta kit would look better on the ground

View all 21 comments

lewishamilton he is younger than you

ynfinsta ok and im with an ancient artifact lewishamilton ill show you ancient ynfinsta don't pop a hip gramps

masonmount you have taste

ynbestiefinsta can i taste you? ynfinsta well 🎤

judebellingham followed

lewishamilton dude judebellingham my bad 🫱🏽‍🫲🏾

December 2, 2024

Liked by ynbestiefinsta, tobjizzle, and 67 others

ynfinsta BARK BARK

View all 27 comments

ynbestiefinsta ive been waiting for this one!!!

ynfinsta BARK BARK ynfinsta 👹👹👹👹👹👹👹👹 lewishamilton you take years off my life

calfreezy GET IN THERE BOG

willne im adding this to his resume georgeclarkeey im single!

charles_leclerc oh thank god its not me again

oscarpiastri i might just leak our text messages

lewishamilton you've lost social media privledges

ynfinsta you cant stop me lewishamilton watch me ynfinsta ok daddy 🧎‍♀️ lewishamilton alright you're blocked

wroetoshaw oh deary me

[cowboyschumi]

HEARTLESS

Summary: Lando Norris has entered his heartless era with no intention of leaving it anytime soon. Now he’s hunting for prey on Raya, and that’s where he stumbles upon you.

Author’s note: Y'all really thirst over Mister Norris, my god. English is not my first language. Enjoy the reading lovelies, interactions are much appreciated.

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, cheating mention, cursing ig. Tried to be inclusive, reader's gender is not specified.

————————————————————————

COWBOYSCHUMI | 2025 All rights reserved. Do not copy, translate, or upload on other platforms.

————————————————————————

Luisa was the best Lando ever had, everyone knew it including him, but he wouldn’t admit it out loud. The only ones cheering over their breakup were jealous, parasocial thirteen-year-olds.

But that was long ago. He moved on pretty quickly, not exactly beating the cheating allegations. Russian model this, Brazilian actress that… and it was all true. There was no denying. He was really enjoying his singleness, having a blast every heated Sunday. But beyond that? Nothing. He got scared easily by commitment or brushed off any trace of a slight chance of dating someone seriously.

He didn’t know why, this tendency to avoid and escape. Deep down, he knew he was hurt. Not hurt by someone else, though. He did it all by himself, ruining the only real thing he ever had. Fans who cared pointed it out: 'His spark is missing,' 'We miss silly old Lando!'

And after claiming he didn’t want to mature because he was happy where he was, he finally matured. Or at least, he pretended to, showing himself as nonchalant and bold. Expressiveness and cameras were just a performance, because in his daily life, he still acted like a teenage boy, eager to get laid

Anyone with an average experience on dating apps knew they were the worst—a way to boost egos based on looks, only to end up rejected and discarded. Raya seemed different, more polite, you guessed. You weren’t the dating type, but curiosity got the best of you. You wanted to know what the hype was about.

Lando, on the other hand, spent most of his day on that app. Every girl swiped right on him, but he rarely matched with someone he actually liked. He wasn’t too strict about looks, he was more of a 'the bigger, the better' type of guy.

Raya wasn’t Tinder. Access was limited, and confidentiality was a must. That’s why you were really surprised when you got in after an exhausting approval process. Your friends freaked out, screamed, and practically climbed the walls of your apartment—the excitement was real. Maybe even a little more than yours.

"Hand me the phone." I don’t even know all these people you’re swiping left and right on." Your patience was limited, and your friends knew exactly how to test it. They kept using your Raya like it was theirs while you minded your own business, eating ice cream. You had no intention of swiping, and the girls knew it, that’s why they took matters into their own hands.

"Oh. My. God. Shut up."

"That’s Lando Norris!" One of them immediately snatched the phone from your friend’s hands.

"Who’s Lando Norris?"

They looked at you like you had just committed a crime, or like they’d seen a ghost behind you. You weren’t sure if your question was out of place or if it was the fact that you had just spoken with a spoonful of ice cream in your mouth

"You’re kidding, right?" Finally, one of them spoke after a long, awkward silence.

FOMO—a word used by chronically online people to describe the fear of missing out, not knowing what’s going on, feeling excluded. That was exactly how you felt for not knowing who Lando Norris was.

"Formula One driver?" Now the phone was in your hands. You were reading his description with the screen practically glued to your face, like a mom who can’t see a thing unless it’s that close.

"That guy beat Verstappen a few times, right?" That was the only thing you could come up with, just from scrolling through Twitter and catching bits of the news. You didn’t know a single thing about the sport.

And sometimes, famous people liked that: their love interests not knowing anything about them, their jobs, the rumors, or the creepy facts.

Your Raya profile didn’t have anything special, aside from your picture-perfect photos. Celebrities didn’t actually care about you deep down—only if you fit their beauty standards. Being active and checking profiles wasn’t on your to-do list. It was just pure curiosity.

But somehow, you two matched. May the universe know under what circumstances and why.

————————————————————————

"When will I have the chance to meet you?"

His text was blunt, like you already knew each other. Maybe even a little desperate.

"What happened to 'Hello, how are you, my name is…'?"

You answered sarcastically, but truthfully. Not introducing yourselves was kind of rude. But you got the point, Lando didn’t care about who you were or what you had to say. The quicker you ended up in his bed, the better.

He laughed at your text, you had the kind of sense of humor he’d fall for. He wouldn’t lie, he enjoyed how obsessed girls were with him and how quickly the dirty talk escalated with just one message. But to his surprise, you weren’t that easy to win over.

"Haha, sorry. Is dinner fine with you?"

Wow, he was really a bad texter. The driest you’d ever seen, dare you say. Was it a guy thing or just a wannabe mysterious famous person thing? You hoped the conversation would be better in person because, damn, it’d be a shame if his pretty face had nothing to say.

"Send me the addy. I don’t need an F1 driver picking me up, I’d rather pass."

Your fear of speed was a thing.

————————————————————————

Lando was attractive. You weren’t exactly interested, but nervousness ran through your veins. Dates always did this over you—stuttering, sweaty palms, and way too much overthinking. You even considered canceling, but your friends wouldn’t let you.

You were a fashion design student, meaning you had some knowledge of trends and what suited your silhouette. Lately, silky long attires were your go-to for night fits; simple, elegant. You dressed for yourself, for comfort, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the attention and the flattering compliments on your fashion sense.

Monaco was small. Getting anywhere was a short drive, so the Uber didn’t take long. But as you stepped out of the car, your stomach twisted. The restaurant in front of you was huge, glowing with warm lights, yet no people coming in or out. The classic internet trap flashed through your mind—what if there was no Lando Norris waiting for you at all?

“Y/N?”

His voice sounded unsure. He was glued to his phone, shamelessly checking if you actually looked like the pictures he’d been thirsting over on that awful app.

You turned around slowly, mentally cursing yourself, and then your friends. And there he was.

He really screamed Formula One driver. The expensive car gave him away immediately. You had boots on, and he was wearing sneakers, making him not nearly as tall as you expected. You bit your cheek, trying not to laugh at the fact that you were practically the same height.

How were you supposed to act on a date with someone worldwide famous?

Lando leaned in to kiss your cheek, but you instinctively extended your hand for a handshake instead. The night hadn’t even started, and you already wanted the earth to swallow you.

“Shall we?”

He offered his arm, effortlessly charming. Gentleman, innit?

You hesitated before looping your arm through his, still not saying a word. But as you stepped into the restaurant, your stomach dropped.

The place was empty. No other customers. Just you and him.

Your face went pale because there was only one explanation.

He did not…

“Mister Norris!”

A well-dressed waiter greeted him with familiarity. They knew each other. With a simple hand gesture, he led you both to your table. The level of formality made you feel like royalty.

Dim lighting, soft music. A candle flickered in the center of the round table, it had the scent of chocolate, if your nostrils weren’t failing you. The ambiance was undeniably beautiful.

He really outdid himself.

You sat down, eyes narrowing at him. "You did not rent out this whole place just for us."

"Yeah, I did."

Lando chuckled, his smile boyish—like a kid caught red-handed. You playfully shoved his shoulder, you hated surprises and gifts in any format.

Your face burned red, so you instinctively hid behind the menu. Of course, he noticed. He found it adorable.

His foot lightly tapped yours under the table, trying to get your attention. "Are we playing hide and seek now?"

You sighed, setting the menu down just so he could see you roll your eyes. "What are you ordering?" you asked in a hushed tone, like it was some kind of secret, despite the fact that no one else was around.

Your elbows rested on the table as you leaned slightly toward him. He did the same. The tiny candle was the only thing between you.

There was no need for flirtation or innuendos—the tension was already there.

For you two, banter was enough.

————————————————————————

"So, fashion designer, huh?" He asked, cutting his food, trying to throw the conversation toward you.

"So, Formula One driver, huh?" You mocked him, mimicking his tone—because, seriously, that was the most basic question ever. Your background was more than obvious; it was explicitly written on Raya. But you got it—he was just as nervous as you were.

One thing Lando was sure of: you weren’t like his other dates. My god, you were hard to get. An hour in, and there had been no physical contact at all—just chatter, chatter. Not that he was complaining. You were an interesting and undecipherable human being.

"How many girls have you brought here?"

You loved making people uncomfortable with your questions, especially when you already knew the answer—you just wanted to see their reaction. Lando practically choked on his food at your out-of-the-blue assumption.

"W-what?"

It was hilarious how fast he grabbed his water, like he couldn’t believe how unfiltered you were. You repeated the question, and he had no choice but to answer.

"I don’t know… two or three?"

At least he was honest. Or tried to be.

————————————————————————

Dinner happened, to your surprise, quickly—because time moved fast when you were really enjoying yourself, losing track of it completely. Luckily, the Formula One driver caught up with your jokes, knowing exactly how to turn them back on you. Like an Uno reverse card. For you, there was nothing more intimate than teasing each other mutually and just the right amount. Some people couldn’t take a joke, and that was such a turn-off. But Lando simply got you.

Now, you were exiting the glamorous restaurant, shoulders covered by his huge coat. Your laughter was loud, and in just two hours, you had already built inside jokes between the two of you.

"Looking forward to seeing your replacement next Sunday if you catch a cold."

"And I'm looking forward to seeing your pretty face again."

He ended all the joking with a cheeky, flirtatious remark—he knew exactly how to make a girl’s legs weak using nothing but his natural charisma.

"You never shut up, do you?"

And then you did the unthinkable.

Without thinking twice, you pulled him in, your lips merging into one. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, finally releasing all the tension and need that had been weighing on you.

————————————————————————

The car you once eyed as luxurious was now the place where you were making out frenetically. The kissing was obscene, neither of you knew where all that passion came from, but it was addictive.

His firm hands gripped the fabric of your branded clothing, holding your hips in place, not wanting you to make any movement against his lap. It’d be the death of him—he was already suffering a nightmare between his legs.

Your fingers instantly got lost in his curls, tangling and pulling them mid-kiss. Lando’s mouth was practically fighting against yours, turning it into the sloppiest mess. Heaven had never felt this chaotic. You took your time exploring every corner of his mouth with your tongue, while his hands traveled deliberately across your body, wishing there was no fabric separating you two. His fingertips traced you as if you were as fragile as a sculpture, slow and delicate. You melted under his touch, squirming on top of him at the barest touch. It was inoffensive, yet he knew exactly how to caress all the right places.

A shiver ran down your spine as your body suddenly felt colder than seconds ago—a thin breeze brushed against your right thigh. He was sliding up your outfit, eager to go further.

"Easy, driver." A whisper escaped your lips, breathy from all the intense air-exchanging. Your lips brushed against each other, expectant but unmoving. "I know you like adrenaline and fast things, but not tonight."

Fucking on the first date wasn’t your thing, you had at least some dignity. This wasn’t just a hook-up; a few butterflies were already flying around in your stomach, and you despised it.

With half-lidded eyes, he looked up at you, locking gazes. His puppy-blue eyes were now dark with lust. His swollen, glossy lips formed a slight pout. If you kept staring at him—at his pathetic, needy, almost convincing face—you’d be stripping down quicker than lightning.

Trying to put an end to his little show, you placed a hand over his face and shoved him away, cutting off all dangerous eye contact.

"Not tonight gives me a free pass for a second date, according to my understanding." He contradicted you, attempting to sound smart with a cocky grin spread across his face.

"You really are something else, Lando Norris." You did your thing to keep him quiet, preventing any cringey pick-up line from escaping his lips, and restarted the make-out session.

He was relieved that you’d shut him up quickly, because the longer it went on, the more he felt like verbalizing the flying feelings in his stomach.

[mattslilies]

Attitude Adjustment - M.S.

"drop the attitude. now." or, the one where matt's so called "mattitude" carries from the car video into your home, and you don't appreciate it. warnings: tw; pegging (don't like don't read!!), strap sucking, brat tamer!reader, bratty!sub!matt, use of handcuffs/slight bondage, degradation, an appearance of mean!dom!reader, mentions of oral (f receiving) word count: 1.07k

the fans may love matt's attitude, but it wasn't something you stood for. ever.

matt knew better than to get snippy with you, and on days where you knew he'd had it rough, you would let it go, offer him compassion, but today? he wouldn't be that lucky.

you'd given him multiple warnings. you'd shot him glances, sent him texts, tightened your grip around his wrist and pulled him closer to you to speak to him, and nothing. he'd continued to keep his sassy attitude, backtalking you every time you politely asked him to do something, just being bratty in general, and you were done with it.

so, you'd decided to fix it.

you dragged him into your shared bedroom, shutting the door behind you and immediately forcing him down onto his knees.

"i'm sure there's a better use for your mouth than snapping off at me, don't you think?"

he didn't say anything, deciding it was in his best interest to be quiet, staring up at you defiantly. it only served to piss you off more. you crouched down, tightly holding his chin.

"answer me when i talk to you."

his eyes still showed fire, but he knew he was in for it, so he didn't push you any further by being silent.

"yes. there is."

you hummed, standing back up and walking away from him. easily stepping into the harness on your strap, you tightened it, moving back to stand in front of him.

harshly lacing your fingers into his hair and tugging his head backwards, causing him to gasp and crane his neck up at you, you smiled, though it had no kindness in it. watching him swallow nervously, excitement stirred in your stomach.

it was always so satisfying breaking his attitude.

"well go on. you know what you're supposed to do."

you loosened your grip on his hair to allow him to move, and he immediately obeyed, closing his mouth around the tip before hollowing his cheeks and moving down.

"that's the first thing you've done right all day."

the menace in your voice made him flinch, and you could slowly see his bratty resolve cracking. you pushed his head down, causing him to gag around you.

“that’s the only sound i want to hear coming from you, you understand? i’ve had enough of you mouthing off at me. if it’s not your safeword leaving your lips, i suggest you keep your mouth shut.”

you didn’t give him the opportunity to speak, forcing him to deepthroat you, making sure that there were tears in his eyes before you released him.

"that's better."

pulling him off after you were satisfied, you pushed two fingers into his mouth, forcing his jaw open. leaning over, you spat in his mouth, forcing it closed afterwards.

"swallow."

he did, immediately, his eyes staring up at you as if desperate for your approval. however, you were still pissed, so you didn't give it to him, instead continuing to order him around.

"get on the bed. all fours, face the headboard. you don't deserve for me to look at you while i fuck you."

he moved quickly, not letting a single word slip out, for fear of rougher punishment. his attitude had been broken by this point, and he was plaint to your wishes, letting you shove him around however you please.

you were going to take full advantage of it.

you prepped him, not sparing him the normal kindness, kissing, and sweet talking that you would have had he behaved, instead making sure he was open enough to take you, before stopping.

"i would've made you cum just from my fingers, but you just had to go and disrespect me today, didn't you?"

a needy whimper left his lips at the thought of an orgasm and the loss of your touch, and you noticed it immediately.

"i thought i told you to be quiet. do i need to gag you?"

he furiously shook his head, silently voicing his disapproval at your suggestion. his body trembled as you pushed into him, not giving him much time to adjust before picking up a quick, punishing pace.

"and just think, baby, i was going to take such good care of you tonight. i was going to make you cum from my mouth and my fingers before i fucked you, giving you as many orgasms as you wanted, but you lost that privilege, didn't you?"

he nodded, his arms struggling to hold him up as he started to slump into the pillows from the overwhelming pleasure he was receiving.

letting out an annoyed sigh, you paused your movements, reaching to grab a pair of handcuffs from the nightstand drawer. grabbing his arms, one at a time, you handcuffed them behind his back, forcing his back to arch perfectly as you used them for leverage to fuck him.

"that's better. you look so pretty like this, tied up and being used like a toy."

his neck was flushed red, but darkened even more at the mix of a compliment and an insult. you knew his body like the back of your hand, and when you noticed him tensing, you knew he was close to letting go.

you drove him right to the edge before stopping completely, pulling out of him and letting his face collapse into the pillows with a broken sob.

"no, p-please-"

you laughed, moving to uncuff him.

"you really thought i'd let you cum tonight? after how you acted earlier? don't take me for a pushover, baby."

tears streamed from his eyes at the rough denial, your cruel words, and the realization that you really weren't going to give his aching dick any relief at all.

you removed the strap off of your body, placing it and the handcuffs to the side, before manhandling him, moving yourself to the top of the bed and him between your legs.

"now. apologize."

he stuttered over his words, desperate to make it up to you.

"i'm so- i'm so sorry-"

you cut him off, lacing your fingers back in his hair, and shoving him downwards.

"i should've been more clearer. apologize with your mouth, since you love to use it so much, and maybe, if you do well enough, i'll let you cum tomorrow."

you weren't going to let him cum tomorrow. after all, he'd been so rude. but while you had him like this, you were going to take full advantage of it.

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[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

i can’t believe it

pair: Draco Malfoy x pregnant!reader requested by anonymous

hi i have a request. can you do draco x pregnant reader? like how he’d handle it and how his parents would treat you? thanks!

masterlist | navigation

❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

Draco Malfoy was never one to back down from a challenge. But as he sat there in the cozy living room of Malfoy Manor, staring at the little white stick in his hand, he realized this was a challenge of a completely different kind. The positive sign staring back at him filled his heart with a mix of fear and excitement. You were pregnant.

He glanced over at you, sitting nervously beside him, eyes wide with anticipation. You looked at him, your hands trembling a bit. “Draco?” you whispered, almost scared of what he might say.

But Draco didn’t say anything at first. He just reached out and pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your hair. “We’re going to be parents,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t believe it.”

You relaxed into his embrace, relief washing over you. “Are you… happy?”

“Happy?” Draco pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his grey eyes shining. “I’m beyond happy. I love you so much, and I’m going to love our baby just as much.”

There was a moment of silence as you both soaked in the reality of it all. But soon enough, another thought crossed Draco’s mind. “My parents… I need to tell them.”

Your breath caught at the thought. You knew that Draco’s parents, especially Narcissa, could be a bit… intimidating. And Lucius, well, he was a whole other story. You had no idea how they’d react to the news.

“Do you think they’ll be mad?” you asked softly.Draco shook his head firmly. “No. They love you. They’ll be surprised, sure, but they won’t be mad.”

And so, later that evening, Draco called for a family meeting. You both sat in the grand drawing room, waiting for his parents to arrive. When they did, Narcissa immediately noticed the nervous energy in the room. “Draco, darling, what’s going on?” she asked, her voice full of concern.

Draco stood, taking your hand in his as he faced his parents. “Mother, Father… we have some news.”

Narcissa and Lucius exchanged a look, before turning back to you both. “What is it, Draco?” Lucius asked, his tone calm but curious.

Draco took a deep breath. “Y/N is pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.”

For a moment, the room was completely silent. You couldn’t even hear Narcissa breathe. But then, something incredible happened. Narcissa’s face broke into a smile—a real, genuine smile. “A baby?” she repeated, her voice filled with awe.

Lucius, too, was stunned, but the expression on his face was not one of anger. It was of realization—his son was going to be a father. Slowly, he nodded, a small, approving smile tugging at his lips. “A grandchild,” he said softly, almost to himself.

Narcissa crossed the room in an instant, pulling you into a warm hug. “Oh, (Y/N), that’s wonderful news! How are you feeling? Have you been eating well? You mustn’t strain yourself.”

You blinked in surprise at the overwhelming concern in her voice, but you couldn’t help but smile as you hugged her back. “I’m okay, Narcissa. Really.”

Lucius joined his wife, placing a hand on Draco’s shoulder. “You’ll be a fine father, Draco,” he said, his voice low but sincere.

Draco, who had been bracing himself for a different reaction entirely, was suddenly filled with pride. “Thank you, Father.”

The next few months were a whirlwind of excitement. Narcissa was constantly checking in on you, making sure you had everything you needed. She even went as far as to hire the best healers to look after you, much to your surprise and appreciation.

Lucius, though a bit more reserved, made sure the Manor was equipped for the arrival of the newest Malfoy. He even found himself browsing through baby books in his study, something that made Draco chuckle whenever he caught him.

As for Draco, he was nothing short of perfect. He was always by your side, making sure you were comfortable, bringing you your favorite foods, and talking to your growing belly every night. He couldn’t wait to meet the little one who was already the center of his world.

One night, as you lay in bed, Draco’s hand resting on your bump, you felt the baby kick for the first time. You gasped, grabbing Draco’s hand. “Did you feel that?” you asked, your voice filled with wonder.

Draco’s eyes widened in awe as he felt the tiny movement. “I did,” he whispered, his voice filled with pure joy. “Our baby…”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we, Draco?”

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “More than okay. We’re going to be amazing.”

[zhukzubast]

Evil Morty and Ricks hypotheticals series

2/5

Rookie Cop Rick

so C-137 is the Rickest Rick and Morty Prime is the Mortyest Morty. Evil Morty is the Rickest Morty, or so the fandom consensus goes. But who is the Mortyest Rick?

i could see several possible answers to that, facetious or sincere, but here's my pitch: It's Rookie Cop Rick. He's the ideallistic, naive companion to a jaded, more experienced counterpart. He trusts readily and gets figuratively and literally backstabbed for it. He's got compassion, and morals, which get tested at every turn. And is that not the true essense of being a Morty?

i would hate to see a proper confrontation between the two 'cause it could only end one way - with Rookie Cop Rick dead. A conversation though…

Rookie Cop Rick seems like a character abandoned in the middle of an arc. In his last moments on screen he looks lost. Like putting the badge back on feels wrong to him. He's been denied redemption for his actions, and he hasn't found "the right Morty he can trust". Evil Morty would provide neither. But perhaps he could provide some answers.

Was Rookie Cop Rick's release just an unintended consequence of the change in departmental codes? Or did Evil Morty review his case personally and see the reasoning behind his actions and put his silent stamp of approval on them? i would love to know. i bet Rookie Cop Rick would as well. So maybe he would ask for an audience with the new president. Or maybe Evil Morty would call for the guy himself. Puppeteering and ruling through fear are great and all, but having someone loyal on your side is much more convenient. And law enforcement is the perfect place for that loyalty to be put to work.

Would Evil Morty be diplomatic and say whatever the right thing it is for a president to say to a subject? Would he appreciate the guilt Rookie Cop Rick is carrying or would it chafe against his world view? Would he try to assuage it? Capitalize on it? Both?

And how would Rookie Cop Rick feel about having a Morty as a president and all the changes he is bringing to the Citadel? Would he remain disillusioned or regain some hope for the future of their society? Who knows, perhaps he would even make peace with his place in it. For the short short time he had left.

[laughhardrunfastbekindsblog]

A post I recently came across (elsewhere) about the Jedi made me realize there seems to be some crucial misunderstandings about love versus attachment.

(Full disclosure: for a very long time I didn't understand the difference either. It's only in the last few years that I've come to appreciate the nuances.)

Context: the post claimed that Kanan and Hera prove the Jedi were wrong about feelings/love.

Love and attachment are two very different things. I would even go so far as to say that attachment doesn't allow for real love.

We see in the prequel era that the Jedi Order largely didn't allow for (especially biological) familial or marital/romantic relationships because of the risk for attachment. Sometimes we take this to mean the Jedi Order didn't approve of feelings/love.

But Anakin was absolutely correct when he told Padme that the Jedi endorse compassion, which is (a form of) love. Calm, joy, and peace are all feelings, too, all of which the Jedi encourage. What the Jedi warn against is acting on negative feelings: hate, anger, fear, etc.

So, Anakin was not wrong for loving his mother and Padme, just like Kanan was not wrong for loving Hera and the other members of the Ghost crew as family.

The difference is that Anakin caved in to attachment - he allowed his fear of losing Shmi and then Padme to turn into possessiveness/obsessiveness, to turn into selfishness, which overpowered his love for them. Massacring the Tuskens wasn't an act of love for Shmi. Neither was siding with Palpatine an act of love for Padme, even though Anakin deluded himself into thinking so. All of that was done out of hate and anger and fear.

Kanan, on the other hand, loved others but did not become attached. He taught Ezra how to use the Force as a Jedi would, while accepting that if Ezra did end up turning to the Dark Side, that was Ezra's choice to make - Kanan's responsibility was simply to teach Ezra the best he could. He loved Hera and was basically her husband, but he was willing to step back and let others take the lead when she needed to be rescued. Kanan let go of the things he couldn't control, and he did not become possessive. He truly acted out of selfless love for his family.

Now, personally I think the Jedi generally promoting no marriage/families and no relationships with birth families is a bit on the "overkill" side in trying to stamp out attachment. (Note: while I don't fully agree with the Jedi Order's stance here, I still respect their choice to live that way; much like I personally wouldn't choose to follow the CotW's helmet rule but I don't begrudge them choosing to adhere to it.) And Kanan DOES prove that one can decide against following that tradition while still being a Jedi and not falling to the Dark Side.

But the reason why Kanan is able to succeed where Anakin does not is because Kanan understands the difference between love and attachment, and he remains a Jedi by avoiding the latter. Interestingly enough, I would say it's because Kanan strives to follow the hallmark Jedi principles about emotions - including acting out of love - and using the Force that he is able to avoid attachment.

And so, while I agree with the premise that romantic relationships do not in and of themselves lead to the Dark Side, I think it's also very important to keep in mind what attachment truly is when talking about the Jedi and their beliefs.

[iputbleachinmyeyes]

―୨୧⋆ ˚ 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚒𝚝, 𝚛𝚞𝚗

⋆˙⟡ 𝙢𝙙𝙣𝙞 / 𝙣𝙨𝙛𝙬 / 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: dub-con, p in v, predator & prey dynamic, unestablished relationship, breeding, unprotected sex, monster fucking

⋆˙⟡ 𝙨𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: something is seriously wrong with him, it feels like you’ve been running for hours and hours. but no matter how hard you try, you can’t outrun a vasto lorde.

⋆˙⟡ 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: my first fic here, i was shitting bricks to post this. feedback is appreciated, love you guys ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

your legs felt as though they were on fire and your chest burnt just as fucking much, it felt like you were choking on your own breath with every gasp of stifling air you took.

but no matter how many times you hid or how fast you ran, he was never far behind. whenever you found a bush or a dead tree to duck behind and catch your breath, you’d soon hear the distorted, hollowfied noise of his raspy breathing.

you’d found him at the worst possible time; stumbling across him after being completely consumed by the hollow within. how did he even get like this? that was a question for later, now was the time to survive. you’d always been close friends, while you had no remarkable powers of your own, being just an average person… that never put a barrier between your friendship with ichigo.

but this? this wasn’t ichigo.

you thought you were safe only a moment ago, thinking you’d finally outran him or shaken him off your trail. how naive you were for thinking that. of course you couldn’t outrun him like this. he’d found you in one of your feeble attempts to hide, and now you were on the run again.

but this time he was close, closer than ever. his footsteps were loud and horrifying to hear so close behind you.

you were about to turn to look behind you to see just how close he was, but he was on you in a second. you face-planted the floor, practically eating the dirt from the force of the impact. before you even had a chance to scream or shout, his clawed hands were on your hips, digging into your soft flesh nearly enough to draw blood as he flipped you onto your back.

the mask, horns, the fucking teeth… it was horrifying to see. gone was his usually cocky shit-eating grin you’d grown so used to seeing on ichigo. he looked over you as if he was about to devour you like a wolf would a freshly caught rabbit. he leaned in close to your face, the sharp and jagged teeth of the mask bared right before your eyes, his warm breath fanning over your face. you were expecting him to rip your face off right there… bracing yourself to feel his teeth biting into you, you felt something entirely different.

the little shit was licking at your face, his warm tongue trailing up the side of your cheek. he let out what sounded like a pleased, distorted hum of approval. he liked how you tasted. you raised an eyebrow at him, still tense but your guard dropped a little… he didn’t exactly seem like he was going to kill you.

you began to feel a little more comfortable as he loomed above you, your breath becoming more even and less ragged, before the sound of fabric tearing could be heard, and you realised it was your own. your short was torn open down the middle, exposing your breasts to him. his masked face was immediately on your tits, his teeth nipping at them and his tongue practically salivating all over the mounds of flesh.

his clawed fingers attempted to pull your panties down, but his claws just ended up shredding them off. well… that didn’t go as planned for him, but at least your bare pussy was now exposed to him. his clawed fingers dipped into the sticky folds and your breath hitched, both at the subtle sensitivity and the the slight fear he’d cut you by accident.

he seemed to have even less patience than normal ichigo, this beast-like version of your friend got impatient quickly, the monster in him and all of his beastly inner urges being brought to the surface while he was in this form.

soon enough, he tore at the already shredded black fabric that hung from his hips, and his hardened cock was now exposed to you. it was big, terrifying big, ridges and black markings similar to the ones in his chest and mask covering the shaft, the tip a flushed pink and drooling with precum.

he rested his heavy cock against your lower belly, and you were far more confused than afraid right now, until you realised what he was doing. he was sizing you up. the tip nearly touched your naval and his balls rested against your slick cunt.

you felt your heart jump out of your chest. nothing even remotely romantic had ever occurred previously between you and ichigo, and now that he was completely hollowfied and had the mentality of a rabid beast… he intended to shove that in you, how the fuck was that even going to fit-?

your train of thought was interrupted by a sudden burning stretch and you nearly shrieked. it felt like your internal organs were being pushed aside just to make room for his cock. your own hands reached up, and grabbed the long strands of his orange hair that fell over you as he hovered above you. your hands tangled in his hair, trying to ground yourself as you tried to just to the stretch.

ichigo’s head was thrown back for a few seconds as monstrous, distorted noises that sounded like moans of pleasure rippled from his throat.

his cock looked and felt completely inhuman. as expected, he couldn’t bear to stay still for longer than a few seconds, giving poor you minimal time to adjust, before his hips pulled back and began pounding against your own. he was panting and grunting as he set a brutal pace. it felt like his cock was impaling you, but in the most delicious way.

his body covered your own as he shrouded your body with his own monstrous form, his sharp teeth nipping at your neck and his tongue lapping at your skin, savouring your taste as he bullied his cock into your gummy and gooey walls over and over again.

he soon moved to sit up in his knees, roughly grabbing your hips and lifting them up to the height of his own. your hips were held up in the air while your upper back and head remained laid on the grass as he fucked into you from this new angle, driving his inhuman length even deeper than before and against that spongy little spot inside your cunt.

his head was thrown back, his chest heaving and guttural sounds of pleasure leaving his throat. his tip kept pounding into that special spot that made you scream and mewl under your monster of a friend. your orgasm soon washed over you in what felt like a tidal wave, his hips and thighs twitching in his hold.

but he didn’t let up. he kept up his relentless pace and you were starting to become overstimulated… really overstimulated. your pussy felt tingly from the leftover pleasure, but sore and sticky as well. his hands suddenly gripped even tighter on your soft hips, his thrusts growing erratic and sloppy. his cock twitched deep inside you, before he hunched over you, slamming your pussy down in his cock one last time.

his breathing was distorted and came out in quick pants with beastly growls mixed in as his cock spilled his cum deep inside you, his tip pressed firmly against your cervix as your womb was quickly filled with the thick, hot ropes of his cum. he ground into you slowly, as if trying to push his cum as deep as he could get it.

you were sweaty, worn out, your pussy puffy from being pounded so relentlessly and your insides impossibly full of thick cum. you pushed up onto your elbows, trying to moved your thighs and hips out of his grip. as you shifted, some of the cum he’d tried to keep inside you spilled and dripped from your hole.

but his grip tightened. a low, hollowfied growl quickly cut the silence, before he leaned down closer to you.

his voice came out as a distorted, ominous hiss. hearing him speak for the first time in this encounter, it made blood rush straight to your pussy all over again, while his tone made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“looks like i’ll have to fill you up again… ‘s gonna be a long night for ya now, rabbit…”

[lightlycareless]

warnings: angst angst angst highschool au naoya calls you something awful :)

Before the unwavering devotion, the intense romance, and of course, the never-ending gifts… there was a Naoya that didn’t know what to do with his newfound feelings.

A kid that was a direct reflection of all the nasty Zen’in values. The constant, cruel minimization of those he considered less, specifically women… it was simply obvious that he wouldn’t know how to deal with the fact that he had a huge crush on you.

It’s the kind of lifestyle that no amount of captivation would be able to push down, and such, sent unwarranted quips and provocations your way.

And really, you hadn’t done anything to earn such responses either… Genuinely so!

You were simply trying to show your appreciation to those around you by practicing your baking skills with brownies—Nanami had given you a book of recipes you were much eager to try out, and what better moment to do so than now?

With a coy smile and tinted cheeks, you headed towards Naoya��s—no, Kento’s classroom to share your newly made delicacies, starting by him, of course.

Cool and unbothered Nanami, the brooding type that has made one few many girls swoon; probably made you do so too at one point… though that wasn’t what bothered Naoya the most.

What fervently angered him instead, were the rumors that sprouted around the two whenever together.

How everyone appeared to be approving of two becoming a couple, simply because the two got along very well, looked good together, and most importantly, you seemed to glow whenever speaking to him.

The same way he did, with his gaze softening whenever crossing paths. How kinder he was with you when explaining things you didn’t understand, not that he was ever rude but… well, his fondness for you is clear. So much so, it became quite concurrent to tease him with you if ever in a foul mood.

“Nanami’s upset? Just get L/N, she’ll cheer him up!”

Neither had openly agreed nor dismissed their thoughts beyond chuckles and scoffs…

But when your fingers brushed agaisnt his when handing him a brownie, followed by giggles when hand-feeding… and his willingness to play along—

Surely, Naoya couldn’t be the only one to notice the path both have chosen to take—but he would be the first to speak up.

“Did you really make these?” Some would ask midchew, their face showing undeniable delight and appreciation for your work.

“Yes, I did.” You respond with a smile and nod, proud. “Do you like them…?”

“Of course, they’re great!” another adds, making your heart flutter. “You have a knack for cooking, L/N. No wonder Nanami follows you everywhere! You know what they say about a man’s heart…”

You blush.

“Thank you.”

Naoya frowns. And so, he spills his poison; low and mean yet loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Hah, there’s no reason to act so humbly when it’s so obvious this was your intention all along.”

The entire classroom goes eerily silent, making the weight of his insult feel even heavier, harsher. You pause for a moment, dreading the way your heart suddenly constricted, before slowly turning around to face him.

“…What did you say?” you prod carefully… fearful. Irritated. You knew well of Naoya’s nasty reputation, enough to keep somewhat of a distance, for another part of you didn’t believe it possible for someone to be that mean. Certainly, an overexaggerating from your overprotective family, right?

But alas, they were right. And even when considering yourself quite isolated from his social circle, you still fell victim to his attention.

Far more than you imagined, really. But he’d never reveal that… at least this moment.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“How long do you intend to go on acting like… that? You heard me damn well!” he snaps. “Here you are, giggling and hand-feeding Nanami like some kind of—… and you don’t expect anyone to notice??”

Your eyes widen at his blatant insult, which only hurt deeper once the rest of the class gasped—a sucessioin of events that naturally has Nanami growing impatient, as seen in the way his grip tightens. Though that was not uncommon for whenever Naoya opened his mouth.

“…it wasn’t like that.” You mutter shyly, faintly defeated.

“No, of course not. How dare I imply anything like that?” he sneers. “Because it’s just so normal to throw yourself at any guy that gives you two seconds of attention, right? Shamelessly acting like a housewife just because you crave validation! If not more…”

“That’s enough.” Nanami stood up, positioning himself between you and Naoya as a way to defend you—a reaction that in another world would’ve been his; if only he’d been halfway decent.

And such, his attacks were only beginning.

“And you—oh, I bet you loved the attention.” Naoya ranted, ardently staring at Nanami as he steps closer. “Must’ve felt real special, huh? To be fawned over by the easy girl at school! What a privilege no one else had the blessing of experiencing! Besides what, Gojo-kun? Geto-san…?”

If Nanami had been alone, there’s no doubt he would’ve knocked Naoya cold that very moment.

No, in fact, he didn’t care if he had a crowd, if this put him in detention or even expelled him. The moment he dared insult you, he would’ve done what others have only thought about—because Naoya didn’t deserve the smallest ounce attention.

Not even now, when you instinctively demanded his sole attention: in the form of your trembling lip, your watery eyes, the beginning of a quiet sniffle followed by a brief moment of what seemed to be hesitation, the slightest consideration of whether to defend yourself or let this slide, before deciding it was best to remain quiet and flee before further humiliation befell you.

All that is heard from you is the loud way you slam the door at your exit.

A sound that represents what would’ve been Naoya’s victory.

Only that he didn’t feel accomplished.

He felt sick.

Ashamed.

In such sorrowful way it tightened his chest and deprived what little breath he had been holding back; reminded yet again by his surroundings of how stupid he’s been for allowing his feelings to get the best of him.

Or more like the worst.

“I hope you’re proud, Zen’in. Once again, you’ve exceeded all expectations.” Nanami says before exiting the room, trailing right behind you.

And of course, it’s not meant as a compliment. While not blunt, his intention of insult was undeniable.

However, Naoya’s pride does not rise to argue.

Because for once, he agrees.

hMMMMMMMMMMMM how am I going to make this hurt even more?

[asherlockstudy]

Some thoughts on the 40 years friendship anniversary Ear Biscuit

Regarding the moment when Rhett makes some fun at the shippers who ship them for moments such as the look they shared when they were kissing their girlfriends... I will say that by saying "As we have proven, we do not mind feeding into your theories", that's a double edged sword. Technically it is neither negation nor confirmation of anything - it is observation of something that can't be overlooked anymore like what they are doing with Wonderhole, while however refusing to take it seriously. It reminds me one of the last ambiguous jokes Rhett had cracked against the shippers, like a year ago or so, when he had said "PERHAPS YOU ARE RIGHT, OKAY" I don't remember it exactly, he had claimed the shipping conviction was so overwhelming that he was almost getting confused what the truth was and perhaps "we were right". Pity he doesn't clarify whether he means only the intentional scripted content or candid stuff that has at times slipped out of his control, like that eye contact. As an oldie, I remember how he has been always telling that story and it was that he opened his eyes to see that Link was already staring at him. He felt uncomfortable so he turned to the other side. He consistently finds it hilarious for years whereas Link always defends himself apologetically and shyly by saying "he was trying to check with Rhett if he was doing it right". So it wasn't exactly the "momentary glance of mutual hetero approval" they went for this time. But, if Rhett really finds it that hilarious, then it might as well have been an accidental eye contact and it taking large dimensions with the shippers may seem particularly amusing to him. However, it is him who brings it back again and again over the years, apparently the momentary glance has left such an impression (of amusement).

Rhett totally deflects when Link claims he had scolded him for how intimate he was getting with his girlfriends.

Marriage bathtub rum episode mentioned again

Link about the first days in college: "For me, going off to college, together, moving into that dorm room, I just remember the feeling of the first week and that we had each other at a point where we were completely on our own. And I remember being scared shitless in a lot of ways after that first week. It's like, wow, this is a different level of freedom. I feel like the net's gone, but we had each other and we had an identity to everyone else of having each other. "

It was sort of bittersweet to see that Link, who comes off as a pretty intense person, seems to have maintained a subdued attitude throughout most of his friendship with Rhett. Based on the things he said, this was sort of a survival mechanism to ensure he would remain Rhett's friend at all costs. He admitted that he wasn't all that crazy about the ministry and he was sort of following along, motivated by the consoling thought that since Rhett was taking him along, then that meant he was appreciating him for his skills, his abilties, his talent and who he was. Same thing with their career actually, Link basically admitted that he is not invested to the degree Rhett is (Rhett lowkey looked like he was given a small slap there) but it's about sticking to this promise of making it work out together. Even one of the first times Rhett confessed he considered giving up on the church during the great roadtrip across America and even though Link had been on a parallel similar journey, Link did not voice his own spiritual concerns and doubts but instead remained a silent "shoulder" for Rhett to “cry on” because he reasoned (maybe it felt safer this way) that surely Rhett was going through a phase and he would return to his traditional, religious self. And if Link was quick to abandon faith too and then Rhett regretted it then they would grew apart. But he was also fearing that if he remained religious and Rhett adhered to his choice to leave the church then they would also grow distant. So he chose to do all the listening, waiting for Rhett to take the final decision. (And then of course we know Link reached his limit with the plexi-glass kiss and suddently decided to turn their world upside down but this is not for this post ok). However, this just shows again and again how almost everything in Link's world revolves around Rhett, it's incredible how dedicated he is in his love for him. Link is a stunning guy, he was a good student, he could have done anything and be with anyone but he made this choice to devote himself to that guy completely and just went with it. It's just amazing. If we take into account what Link had said in his deconstruction, he had always had way more doubts, since an early age, but he was determined to act as pious as Rhett, if not more and even remain pious when Rhett was having his doubts out of his fierce persistence that this was ultimately the way to be accepted by Rhett.

Thank goodness they gave us a rough timeline of Link's "breakup" mail to Rhett and Rhett's delayed apology, because based on the dynamics we were observing in their content we could have been able to tell by ourselves! If the email was sent around the GMM 22 format or a little prior to it, it is not a surprise at all. This was the time a lot of the fans, even shippers, were speculating that something seemed off between them, that they weren’t real friends anymore, that they always seemed angry at each other. It was around that time that Link was being vocal about how Rhett didn’t open up about his emotions to him and at the time Rhett indeed looked very uncomfortable with it.

Let me tell you though, they were not telling the entire story. There was another thing that was happening at the time and they mentioned it once or twice in the Ear Biscuits of that period but then I don't remember if they ever mentioned it again. Along with the insane amount of work they were involved with at the time that would have made just about anyone neglect their personal relationships, it was around that time or a little earlier that they imposed rules on their friendship. They had said in EBs that their work and their friendship was taking up too much space from their families and other aspects of their lives so they freaking came up with rules to regulate their friendship. The examples they mentioned to explain this were VERY interesting: it was forbidden to communicate during vacation and if they both went to NC to their parents during the holidays they should not meet up. Even more insanely specifically, if they happened to cross ways in a supermarket aisle for example, the rule was to not acknowledge each other and just look the other way!!!!!!!!!!!! They also had rules for physical touches, Link characteristically said: "If you helped me with my belt, alarms went immediately off in my mind. Oh, why are you helping me put my belt? You don't usually help me put my belt!". Really, is it my fault to say that none of this shit is indicative of a platonic friendship? They never talked about it again. Perhaps they understood they shared too much. A few months or about a year after this was happening and shortly after the crazy work schedule, they made an EB announcing that they were now doing the exact opposite, meaning they would actively try to find more quality time for their friendship outside work. Now, we can tell that this choice was made probably after Link had sent the email to Rhett because clearly those rules he had initially agreed upon were tormenting him. My point is, their friendship wasn't threatened only as a natural consequence of their hectic work schedule but by their choices too.

I am sorry if I am the broken record but this is compatible with this recurring theme in the One Story, where Link is in trouble, Rhett saves him only to fall in trouble even harder. In the Digging a Hole video, Rhett says how he thought "Link was losing control in his enjoyment of the hole digging" that he had to step up. Rhett started this as a controlled, secret situationship and when Link started getting way too immersed in it, Rhett shat himself, fearing Link was risking their careers, their families, everything they had built. So they came up with rules and filled their time with work, work, work to control what was happening between them. Link tried but in the process he felt that besides everything they were trying to control, they were also losing their foundations, their original pure friendship. So, for such a passionate friend (or a man insanely in love, if you will) to feel that he and his lifelong best friend had turned into strangers, into working robots to strip all the emotions from their relationship, he thought "you know, if we are not even gonna be friends like we always were, I don't want any of this at all". Once again, I am amazed at the genuiness of his sentiment. He has fame, he has a lot of money, we know he is frugal and yet he was willing to give it all up, to start from scratch, to reinvent himself on his own, in order to not suffer through a possible slow alienation with Rhett. (I mean he still was ready to be swayed by Rhett with the bare minimum though lol)

To Rhett's credit, like they said, even if he's not one for words, he was at his door the next day like "what was that shit about alienation you're talking about?!". History has shown after all that no matter how bad he is with words, how emotionally constipated, how work obsessed, how supportive of the idea to keep this a secret situationship, how fearful their relationship will likely destroy their careers and a lot of their bonds with other people, how vulnerable to people's opinions, so far time tells he is choosing Link over everything else, even at the prospect of disaster. And channeling all this anxiety and concern but also the choice he has made to his art has become his new passion, because this is how his mind works, this is how he expresses himself, his feelings, his love.

Rhett reread the email during the quarantine which also makes total sense! We have all discussed Rhett's notorious neediness at the time of the pandemic. I like to say he was climbing the walls at the time because he really did. Even in their zoom GMMs, he was protesting to Link because they were not meeting, he was like "I am healthy, you are healthy, LET'S MEET I BEG YOU I AM LOSING MY MIND PLEASE". This was an average GMM and EB at the time, remember? I believe this sudden unexpected distance was what really sealed the deal for Rhett, he thought things over and over. It's true, he did take Link for granted because Link was always by his side, he never missed him. But this time, Link had devoted himself to Christy who was coping very badly with the Coronavirus panic and he wasn't meeting with him, he had become aloof and Rhett was getting increasingly emotionally and physically frustrated and at this point he probably understood what it feels to not have Link for granted or what it felt for Link to feel emotionally neglected in their relationship.

Link was a little... happy when Rhett admitted their relationships to girls were shallow. He's laughing nervously for almost 20 seconds.. but it is adorable. I love this laugh of his, the heheHEheHEheheHEHEhehe, reminds me of the "I hit you in the funny bone" moment in GMM :)))

I did not intend this to get that long...

[yourlittlebunnyy]

kind hearted -tamlin x reader

masterlist - honeyed flower

this can be read alone, but i suggest reading honeyed flower before!

summary: Tamlin proves that his heart is pure.

warnings: super cute and fluffy

wc: 2.8k

Tamlin is the High Lord of the Spring Court, a place where fairies reside, yet in five hundred years he has never seen any, until... a few days ago.

He can't get you and your wings, your face and your joyful, selfless personality out of his head. You even gave him a kiss on the cheek, making him feel like a little kid struggling with his first crush, and damn, it sure wasn't like that.

A rush of awe curls the wrinkles in his forehead into a grimace. You're making him weak, and he barely knew you.

He tosses and turns in bed, unable to sleep, and it's your fault. He sits at the end of the bed, elbows resting on his legs and hands holding his face. With a sigh, he gets up and gets dressed.

The night is silent, and the only light available to him is the moon, which makes his horse's coat glow a shimmering white. It reminds him of your wings.

He retraces his steps, surrounded by silence and little else. To enter the village he must get the approval of the Village Chiefs, who note whether he has a pure heart. He thinks hard about what to do.

Tamlin is not sure he owns it, after all the things he has done, the people he has hurt. But you told him his heart is pure, that the trees themselves told you so.

Yeah, he thinks puffing out a laugh to himself, you talk to the trees. It's so surreal that he wonders if he didn't dream it, but he chases the thought away when he sees the small valley and flowers as big as trees in the distance. He keeps riding for a while, and when the trees thin out completely, he decides to dismount and proceed on foot.

Your village is just as beautiful and fragrant as he remembered, and his gaze points directly to your flower, the scent of thick honey in the air seems to call to him even though he cannot see it in this darkness. Fortunately, a few fireflies illuminate the area.

He notices the first two flowers, the tallest ones, those of your Village Chief. He remembers what you told him the first time you saw each other; he remembers everything all too well. He sees the figures of two elderly fairies resting and wonders if he hasn't made a mistake. Everyone is clearly asleep and he doesn't want to disturb them, fearing mainly that he will arouse annoyance and not be admitted.

Just as he turns to retrace his steps, an elderly male voice, inspiring sagacity and wisdom, speaks. He almost gets a deja-vu of how you met.

"Who are you, boy?" He says, and sleep leaves clear marks on the fairy's face. Tamlin watches him and does not speak. He, too, possesses wings, but not as beautiful as yours. His seem graying and bear clear signs of his age. His face, though old, is still beautiful. However, he does not seem to appreciate his silence.

"Are you a visitor?" He asks testily, flapping his large wings only a couple of times to cushion the descent from his flower. He keeps his tone low so as not to wake the rest of the village, but another fairy, the other Village Chief, seems to wake up anyway.

"I am Tamlin. The High Lord of this Court." He says confidently, the authoritative High Lord tone. He just hopes it's the right thing to do. Maybe they'll let him in anyway, given his notoriety, without looking at his heart.

"Well, we are the Village Chiefs. I'm Dina, and this is Finn. What are you doing here, boy?" Tamlin is surprised by their words. It's as if they just don't recognize his figure, he wants to retort that he could kill them all, but in the end what would change for him? They did nothing but talk to him as if he were their equal. Maybe he doesn't mind so much, freeing himself from social constructs.

"I just happened to be here by accident, I was riding with my horse." He shifts and with his chin points to the animal tied to a tree not too far away. The two fairies watch it open-mouthed, as if they had never seen such a thing. Similar to your reaction the first time you saw it, he thinks, have you never seen horses in your life?

They recover a few moments later, their gaze back on him. They seem to have noticed his little lie, or maybe the trees have told them, but they say nothing.

"If you want to enter our village, we will have to establish that your heart is pure." Finn says with a hand on his chin. "I'll go and get things ready.

Entertain the visitor, dear." Dina nods. And with that, the fairy leaves his sight as he enters the dark forest, a handful of fireflies following him. Perhaps he is able to speak to them as well.

He feels the female's gaze on him, and he keeps his face high and proud, despite the agitation eating him inside. What if he is not as pure as you told him? What if he can never see you again?

"And so, you are here tonight because you found our village by chance?" The fairy's voice is accusatory, her wings seem to open even wider, proud.

Tamlin nods as he looks into her eyes. Fae often felt intimidated by such a thing, but she didn't seem to pay too much attention to it.

And anyway, his wasn't completely a lie. He had indeed found you and your village by accident. Just not tonight. Dina raises an eyebrow. Tamlin wonders if crossing his hands to his chest would be appropriate, but the fairy goes away before he can do so.

Tamlin does not know what to do now that he is alone. He keeps looking in the direction of your flower as if among the darkness you might pop out at any moment.

A figure does indeed make space, but its silhouette does not match yours. Is it Dina, who has returned with a... big leaf?

"Here." She hands him what he recognizes to be a palm leaf. What on earth are palm trees doing in the Spring Court? He grabs it and twirls it between his fingers, his eyebrows furrowed. Dina seems to notice his confusion.

"It will be used to cover you during the ritual." Tamlin squints. You didn't tell him that he must be naked, and you especially didn't tell him that his only garment, if you can call it that, would be a leaf from a palm tree.

"Don't make that face, boy. You'll be alone, maybe." At this point he is even more confused and only wishes someone would explain to him how this blessed ritual takes place. Finn returns a few moments later, more tired than before. Dina greets him by supporting him with her arms, bringing him close to his flower and making sure he goes up without a problem. She whispers something in his ear and places a kiss on his forehead before returning to him.

"Finn is tired. I will lead you." Without waiting for an answer she slips through the trees, and the fairy's fireflies now wander around Dina. Tamlin follows her without a word.

They walk for a few minutes until they come to a small expanse in the trees. How did he not notice it before?

He looks around and admires the landscape. His eyes become hungry for that atmosphere. It is a dream. He never realized that his court could contain so much beauty. He wonders if at this moment he is being blessed by Mother herself.

The trees have the gaps between the bark glowing, making them look ethereal. The small empty space in the center is covered with a carpet of flowers that seems to glow in the same way as the trunks and roots. And kneeling in it is you. Dressed only in a light, short white robe, there is you.

Dina called you as she was going to get the leaf. You would have liked to sleep, but she shook your flower making you annoyed.

"Don't touch my flower!" You say coming down as if the petals were a slide, you love doing that. Dina rolls her eyes, visibly sleepy like you. Fairies need more sleep than other species, or they tend to get either nervous or stupid. It is also why they are so secretive - they are not particularly productive in society.

"A visitor is waiting for you in the Pool of Purity for the ritual." She simply tells you, then disappears toward her flower. You sigh, but are happy nonetheless. It is strange to have two visitors arrive in such a short time, Tamlin and now this stranger. Or maybe - your wings have a spasm - you lengthen your steps to the small secret clearing and find no one. Maybe Dina has gone to get whoever is here.

You kneel on the fresh dewy grass and set to work: the sooner you complete the ritual, the sooner you can return to the softness of your flower. You place your flattened palms on the cool earth and begin to hum a prayer for the Mother. The trees begin to glow with magic that fades from pink to purple to blue, and expands to the center of the clearing, covering it with small, colorful flowers that are also overflowing with energy.

You are focused on your little prayer that you don't even turn to look when you hear Dina speaking to the visitor.

"I leave you in the hands of our sweetest Y/n. She will guide you through the ritual, otherwise she will escort you back to the border." And with these last words, she leaves.

Only now do you raise your head, your hands still in the blades of grass that have now turned blue. Your breath catches in your throat and your body stiffens at the sight of Tamlin. So he kept his word and came back! He offers you a big smile, and careless of having left the prayer in half, you jump up and run to hug him. This time he is prepared and promptly reciprocates the affection-filled squeeze, his hands on your hips as he inhales your honey-sweet scent. Your wings quiver as you hold him even tighter. You are sad as you part, and a small pout wrinkles your nose. Tamlin chuckles as he turns the leaf over in his fingertips.

"So you will be my guide, Y/n." You offer him a joyful smile as you hop back to kneel where you were before, resting your hands on your thighs you watch him. He is so beautiful with all the colors reflected on his face, so magical.

"I'm very excited, TamTam! I think all you have to do is undress and lie down on the bed of flowers.

The trees will give their final verdict when they are ready." Tamlin looks at you. You can tell by his glance that he is slightly embarrassed.

"Okay, I'll go behind that tree while you change. You make yourself comfortable!" With a graceful movement you stand up and give him his space, and as he changes he feels his heartbeat calm down. If the trees determine his purity, and not the Village Chiefs, then he has nothing to worry about.

You come back out of your hiding place after a couple of minutes and find Tamlin lying down, his arms behind his head revealing his sculpted chest. He looks like a statue from how perfect he is. Your gaze wanders over his body with curiosity, a slight blush covers your cheeks, and Tamlin chuckles when he sees your pupils dilate, he feels your eyes on him as if they're branding him.

"Now... now I'll proceed." You're slightly awkward, and Tamlin can't help but wonder if this is the first time you've done this. Or that you've seen a naked man.

You kneel in the same spot and place your palms on the ground, just as you were before he came. Tamlin is about to speak, but you block him with a hand sign.

"Show respect, Tamlin." You warn him in a serious tone that he has never heard on you. You feel a little guilty, so you add, "and please extend your arms down your body or the roots won't be able to catch you."

"What?"

"Shhh" You shush him once more. Silence is restored again, and for a few minutes the only audible sound is the forest. Then you start chanting a prayer and Tamlin does not recognize the words, but he recognizes the language. It is the ancient language of the Fae, long since forgotten. How do you know it? No, how do the fairies know it?

The problem he has just posed fades when he feels something touch him basically all over, from his neck to his feet. He opens the eyes he didn't even realize he had closed. Luminescent roots are pinning him to the ground. What the hell? Is this by any chance a trap?

He tries to struggle, but it's too late, and whatever prayer you're reciting is blocking all his powers. He watches you, your eyes closed and your lips whispering ancient and long-forgotten words. All this time you have been luring him to you with your perfect face and those inviting wings only to do what, kill him? Tamlin feels bitterness in his mouth.

You open your eyes after the trees inform you that something is wrong. You look at Tamlin trying to free himself from the roots and squint, it's a miracle you didn't pull your hands off the ground or you would have interrupted the ritual.

"Tam! Stop immediately or all this will be for nothing!" You say alarmed. He looks at you coldly, anger and rancor in his eyes. You don't understand, wasn't this what he wanted? Maybe it's your fault, you're doing something wrong. Your eyes become glossy.

"Are you trapping me?" He asks. Everything is clearer to you now; you giggle when you realize what all the fuss was about. He thought you were trying to hurt him!

"No, silly." Laughter shakes your shoulders. "The roots will reach to your heart, to listen to it. They won't hurt you!" Tamlin mentally calls himself a fool.

You smile at him one last time before closing your eyes again and resuming your chants.

After minutes, or maybe hours, the roots finally begin to recede and your prayers cease. You take your hands off the earth and thank Mother one last time. You get up, stretching your legs and yawning. The sun is rising and the other fairies are probably waking up now. Tamlin stands up, supporting the leaf with one hand, and looks at you expectantly. You blush heavily and go back behind the tree.

You make your way to him toward the flower field, while meanwhile your friends have gathered in a circle to find out the verdict. You keep your chin up, proud. You have always been on their side, never on this. You take great pride for what you just did.

"I thought the ritual was over." Tamlin whispers from behind your ear. Your wings seem to shiver at that closeness.

"Not yet. Now the Village Chiefs will open the flower and tell if you possess a pure heart." You turn to him and point a finger at his chest. He takes the hand you used and kisses your knuckles, smiling at you. Your eyes land on your bare feet as a lovely blush covers your cheeks.

You bring him next to Dina and Finn, who seems to have recovered, and they put Tamlin between them.

You retrace your steps to the small clearing where you performed the ritual and grab the taller flower that sprang up where Tamlin once lay. More than flower, a bud.

And when the two Village Chiefs make it bloom, then the color of its petals will tell whether he can enter or not.

You place it in Dina's hands and stand beside her. Your heart is pounding even if you already know that Tamlin has a pure heart. You are also happy that the Village Chief fairy trusted you so much that she gave you such a complex task.

Also, you feel useful! This is one of the few rituals you can do without a mate.

Dina begins to blow on it, murmuring a pleading prayer to the Mother, and then passes the sprout to Finn, who does the same. Finally it reaches the hands of Tamlin, who holds it uncertain of what to do. He meets your gaze in a question, and you smile at him, nodding, indicating that everything is going according to schedule.

The flower slowly blooms, revealing a beautiful rose -- white.

You laugh ecstatically and run to hug Tamlin, who is initially confused, but after your gesture understands he has passed the ritual. The Village Chiefs offer him a little bow and as if by instinct he reciprocates, one hand still clasped in yours and the other holding the lovely flower between his fingers.

The crowd of fairies thins out, the Village Chiefs themselves leave to begin their day, and it remains just you and Tamlin in the flower field.

"What does it mean if the flower is white?"

"Not only is your heart pure, TamtTam, but kind. You are kind hearted. And you did so well!" You exclaim, your eyes glistening with happiness. The wings must have twitched as many times as the fingers on your hands. He smiles sweetly at you.

"What now?" He asks you. You stare at him for a while and think about what is missing to show him: unfortunately nothing, you already showed him everything a few nights ago. Just as you're oing to pout, Violet and Spring appear from behind a flower, making you squeal excitedly. You jump and keep touching Tamlin's arm to get his attention, and when you have it, you point to a burgundy-red flower.

"Look, TamTam. Those are the little animals I told you about, the two fawns! Do you want to meet them?" And how could Tamlin say no, when you look at him with those big bunny eyes.

read more about tamlin and fairy here! 🎀

[goingmerryfics]

Hi I love your fics and I think the ‘sitting on their lap while they’re not paying attention’ is so cute! Could you do that prompt with Enel and Shanks? 👉👈 sfw plz

Sitting in their lap while they’re not paying attention - w/ Enel, & Shanks 

Content: Gender neutral reader, SFW

Notes* Enel has never come to mind when writing these little prompts so this is new! I had to go back and watch a bit of Skypiea to remember what he's like haha. Shank’s gets a little handsy, but nothing dramatic.

Enel

Enel cannot be caught off guard, but he’ll tolerate your mischievous ways if he likes you well enough

So when you casually stroll up to his makeshift throne and plop yourself down, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t say a word at first, or even react too much past smirking behind your gaze.

He’s laid out in a lazy position, so sitting on his lap is a little awkward- but you manage by shifting yourself forward. You can’t see his face at this angle, but maybe that’s a good thing

He’s confident, and this little maneuver is not going to fluster him. He is intrigued, though.

His amusement for the situation is painted all over his face, even if you can’t see that from where you’re sitting

“Ah, sitting in the lap of power itself. I suppose I can't blame you.”

He shifts and sits up as he speaks, careful not to move you off of him

Knowing that he approves your antics now, you can actually release the tension in your shoulders with a sigh and lean back in your spot

One hand reaches around your body to put a hand on your cheek and turn your head to look directly at him

“Were you trying to fluster me? I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that if you want to see me blush. Still, I appreciate how direct you are. Perhaps I can have you do this more often.”

He sticks to his word on that, too. Whenever he’s sat in his seat for whatever reason, he makes sure to call for you so you can accompany him, especially for meals

You’ve kind of become his little pet in a way

Shanks

Shanks is wasted when you swing over the barstool and place yourself in his lap

It’s so smooth and easy to do, there’s really a multitude of ways you could ‘catch him off guard’, which makes you question how he’s become so feared sometimes

He's so focused on finishing his drink that he doesn't even really notice the added weight

His arm immediately wraps around your middle, both to keep you close and also to keep himself from falling off the stool

He mumbles something in his drunken state, which you can kind of translate into, “What tricks are you up to?”

He doesn’t even waste time before he pulls you in for a kiss, too. He tastes like whiskey and an incoming hangover

His hand goes from your back to your hips with obvious intention, but you stop him where he’s at, knowing he’s heavily under the influence and it would be unwise to let him go too far

“Come on now, where’d that shyness come from?”

He barely gets the words out. He looks like he’s going to pass out

Not a minute later, you and Benn are carrying him to his room on the ship as he snores, limp in both of your arms

You leave him a glass of water and some painkillers at his bedside since he’ll need them in the morning, but you don’t actually see him until the following afternoon

You ask if he’d partied too hard, and he laughs before he pulls you close to him just like he did last night

“I may have been drunk off my ass, but I still remember a certain someone sitting on my lap.”

You really didn’t think that he would’ve remembered that, and he laughs at how red you go so quickly

[writingdevil]

Tongues and Teeth Pt.2 (STP)

(AAAH! So many of you liked the first one! Thank you! I hope you enjoy this one too, now introducing our favourite jester!)

*

Paranoid wasn't sure how long they had been walking for, but that might be because his brain was being overwhelmed with Oppy's chatter. It wasn't an unwelcome distraction to his anxiety, but silence would also be appreciated at some point.

They hadn't run into any of the others though, which kept his mind from shutting down completely. Every now and then, his head would conjure up some gruesome and terrifying situation that one of the others had found themselves in, and he would subconsciously squeeze Oppy tighter, who merely patted his arm in comfort.

On top of all that, one of the hardest things to get used to was having a body, and eventually, their legs were becoming harder and harder to move, until Oppy eventually declared that they were taking a break.

He led them to a small clearing with a lake, and Paranoid groaned as he leaned against a tree, closing his eyes for a moment. A part of him did quietly hiss that he keep his eyes on Oppy, but he pushed that part away, knowing that Oppy was too tired to try anything.

They sat in peaceful silence, until Oppy asked, "Do you think-He's out here?" Paranoid kept his eyes closed as he replied, "Probably not. If He was, we would be with Him. But we're not, so that means He's gone somewhere that we can't follow."

"With the Princess," Oppy muttered, and there was something bitter in his tone, but Paranoid didn't dare approach that.

Another few seconds of silence passed, but Oppy once again spoke up, "Does that not-bother you?That He left us for her?"

This time, Paranoid opened his eyes, to find Oppy staring down at his lap, fists clenched tight and attempting to control his anger. Paranoid understood that frustration all too well.

He sighed, looking out at the lake next to him, appreciating its beauty for a minute, before he said, "It does bother me. Every day. Every time I'm not worrying about the others, I'm worrying about Him, and about how I can't protect Him anymore. But this was the first decision that He made-without that Echo, or with us yelling in His head. He chose to leave the cabin with the Princess, so I have to respect that, because if I don't, I'll go crazy."

Paranoid looked back at Oppy, and was surprised to find him staring at him with wide, soft eyes, as if discovering something new about him, and then he felt a heat in his cheeks, and he chuckled awkwardly, hugging himself.

"I think we're well past crazy at this point, mate."

Paranoid screamed and flung himself towards Oppy, half crawling and half running, his wings flapping wildly, and Oppy just shot up to his feet and yelled, "Whoa! Whoa! Calm down, Jitters!"

Paranoid did no such thing, gripping Oppy's outstretched hand, and wrapping an arm around him, murmuring his chant as he whirled around to face the stranger behind him.

It was one of them. They were hanging upside down from a tree branch, arms crossed behind their head and giggling at the sight in front of them, and Paranoid knew exactly who that was.

"Contrarian!" he screamed, stepping away from Oppy, who seemed to compose himself far quicker than Paranoid ever could, smiling politely as he said, "Good to see a familiar face," while putting a gentle hand on Paranoid's elbow, as a way to ground and calm him.

He hated it, but it did the trick. Slowly, and with many deep breaths, Paranoid found himself willing the trembling of his body away, and Oppy would gently squeeze his arm in approval. He felt the rage and fear quickly being replaced with relief at the sight of the other bird, until he no longer felt the urge to throttle him.

Contrarian chuckled, then moved to get off the branch. Paranoid expected him to climb down or jump off, but what he actually did was just let himself fall to the ground, causing Paranoid to yelp in surprise and Oppy to snort.

Contrarian bounced back almost immediately though, shooting to his feet without so much as a scratch to be seen on him, and Paranoid noticed that his feathers seemed to curl inward near his head. He put his hands on his hips and flashed them a wide grin. "Sorry for the scare, fellas. Didn't want to butt in on your moment."

"How kind of you," Paranoid sarcastically said, and Oppy let go of his arm to take a step forward, a hand on his chest as he said, "Well, at least you seem to be all in one piece, Contrarian, and we're glad for that. What have you been doing all this time?"

Contrarian shrugged, his eyes moving across the woods in boredom. "Oh, you know-a little of this, a little of that. Seeing how high I can hang off a tree before the branch snaps, or finding out if I can piss off another supernatural entity with my charm."

"Still as-humorous as ever then," Oppy commented, but Paranoid could hear how done the other already sounded.

Contrarian laughed as he said, "Don't you know it!" he then motioned up and down his figure, "Also! I never realised how funny bodies could be. Did you know that if you hit your limbs enough, your skin changes colour?"

"Those are called bruises, Contrarian!" Paranoid hissed, his eyes already searching within the dark feathers of his friend. Oppy coughed to get their attention. "Yes, and you can tell us all about it while we search for the others."

Contrarian's face fell in surprise, and he just went, "Oh," before simply staring at them for a few seconds-and then added, "nah," with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"What?" Paranoid protested, not believing what he was hearing. "Don't you wanna come with us?" Contrarian scrunched his face up and shrugged his shoulders, and Paranoid took a desperate step forward. "Why not? Don't you want to see the others? Don't you miss them?"

"Of course I miss them!" Contrarian argued, "But I'm just not in a rush to find them again." Paranoid couldn't believe what he was hearing. "It'll all be arguing and questioning our reality, and that just seems too stressful right now, especially when I could be doing something more fun."

"All of the fragments of the Decider are scattered about this woods, and you're only concerned with not getting bored?" Paranoid took it back. He was definitely going to throttle Contrarian now.

Contrarian groaned. "I just want to do something harmless for once! Something that doesn't involve the world ending."

"So you think Hero and the others are nothing more than entertainment for you?"

"No, of course not-"

"Let him go, Jitters," Oppy calmly interrupted, putting an arm out to keep Paranoid back.

He looked down at Oppy in shock, but the other just gave Contrarian a bored look and asked, "You definitely don't want to come with us?" Contrarian shook his head, twisting his body around as he said, "I'm gonna do this one on my own, if you don't mind." Then he began to walk away.

Paranoid helplessly gestured towards them and their retreating flock member, but then he froze as Oppy winked at him and loudly said, "Okay, fine. Be boring, then."

Contrarian froze.

Paranoid was shocked to see how tense the bird looked, shoulders shooting up, wings pinned back and feathers standing to attention-he doesn't think he's ever seen Contrarian behave like this-before the other slowly turned to look over his shoulder. "What did you just say?"

Oppy had half turned away, but paused at the question, going, "Huh? Well, it's to be expected of you, to go against what others want. It's in your nature, so we shouldn't be surprised at you."

Contrarian's hands kept clenching and unclenching at his sides, and Paranoid saw something wild in his eyes as he stammered on the spot, and managed to blurt out, "Yeah, but I'm not boring-"

"You're right-repetitive would be more accurate to say."

"What? No! I'm a wild card! A loose cannon-"

"You're the Contrarian," Oppy clarified, and the bird in question turned around fully, with his jaw hanging open and a look of offended disbelief on his face. Paranoid refused to move or speak, for fear of breaking whatever was happening here. "You just do the opposite of everything. Everyone knows what you're like."

"Yeah, and that keeps things interesting," Contrarian argued. He waved a hand out into the distance of the woods. "Back then-when we were caught in the loop, I would always-"

"Let me guess," Oppy interrupted, and his voice was full of exaggerated wonder as he said, "you would throw something out the window?"

Contrarian was stunned into silence, and Paranoid was honestly impressed at this point, having never seen the seemingly careless bird act like this before.

Oppy inhaled through his teeth, then leaned closer to Paranoid, as if sharing a secret with him. "Getting a little bit old though, if I'm honest."

Paranoid had been busy not wanting to ruin Oppy's work to say anything, but the more it went on, the more sense it made, and that calmed him in a weird way.

"Yeah," Paranoid quietly said, more to himself, but he caught the shocked look Contrarian sent him, and the subtle encouraging one from Oppy. "He's not that much of a concern." Paranoid meant it too, once he really thought about it.

Contrarian was just looking to crack jokes and avoid everything that the Narrator wanted them to do. One of the things that Paranoid hated was unpredictability and not being able to see the dangers around them, and Contrarian's determination to go against the Narrator and do whatever was funniest usually irked Paranoid and sent him into a spiral. It would always leave him trying to figure out what the other was thinking and how to work around it.

But now that they were free from all that horror, there wasn't much that Contrarian could do to stress him out-him doing the opposite wasn't as terrifying anymore.

He was just a jester without an audience.

Contrarian was fully frozen in shock at this point, his eyes staring at nothing in particular, but Oppy held no mercy as he continued, voice remaining casual and calm, "But us? Opportunist and Paranoia? Who knows what we'll encounter, and I'm pretty sure neither of us will simply walk away from it, no matter how unusual it is. That wouldn't be very fun, would it?"

Oppy linked their arms again, turning them around to continue the search. "Well! Be seeing you, Contrarian!" They began walking away, and as a final nail in the coffin, Oppy threw his head back to briefly glance behind them and shouted, "Have fun being predictable!"

For a few seconds, they just walked in silence, Paranoid's whole body tense with worry and anticipation. Did it work? Or had they just hurt Contrarian's feelings deeply?

Before he could voice his doubts though, Oppy leaned over to him and whispered, "Get ready."

"What-"

But then there was the rapid sound of footsteps, and Paranoid only had a moment to brace himself as Contrarian ran up to them, and launched himself in between them, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders.

"Hey guys I've just decided that I'm tagging along! Okay? Okay!" Contrarian declared, nervous chuckling following his words, and Paranoid sighed, but was ultimately glad he was here now, even if he got a fright for it.

He looked over Contrarian's head, who was a perfect middle height between him and Oppy. Speaking of-Oppy leaned his head back and caught Paranoid's eyes, then smiled brightly and mouthed to him, 'Good job, Jitters.'

That-had actually gone okay.

Maybe they weren't too bad together.

[lunajay33]

Lost Part.4

•🗝️🕊️🩶•

Summary: Carl Grimes was your best friend since birth, when he died the world turns grey, he was your partner in crime so you shut yourself off from the world, no one could get through, until one day you’re wondering Alexandria seeing Negan in his cell, maybe he could be the one to break you out of this hell

Pairing: Negan Smith x f!reader

Content: Age gap, Depressing themes, Consoling, Spicy themes later on, breeding kink, character development

Part.3

•Masterlist•

Negan quickly hauled my shorts back up and I jumped down from the counter as the three at the door went from shocked to enraged, Rick stomped over ripping Negan away from my side pinning him up against the wall, Michonne walked over to me with the meanest scowl on her face, I backed up in fear until I was stopped by the counter

“I told you he’d use you, are you this stupid, we have enough on our plates without having to worry about you running around with the man who killed two of our own”

“Michonne im not a child so stop treating me like one, if i want to be with Negan im going to be with him and it’s none of your business, just let me be happy” she was pulled back by Daryl who gave her a warning look and she backed off

“Leave er alone she’s been through enough”

I appreciated Daryl so much more, he’s been so understanding lately

“Rick let him go, if he was going to hurt me he would’ve by now” with a groan he aggressively let him go and walked back over with Michonne, Negan coming to mine placing a gently comforting hand to my lower back

“You think Carl would want this, he loved you, he adored you and wanted so much for you and here you are running around with this man and that ruined everything for us, what do you think he’d say” my heart clenched in shame as I sucked in a harsh breath

“Who knows what Carl would say but I do know is that what Carl wrote to you had you stop and rethink everything, saving Negan, so don’t tell me what Carl would say when I know he would just be happy that I’m happy…….and I am really happy” I look up at Negan who’s smiling down at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes

“Don’t come crawling to us when you realize we were right” Michonne huffed as he and Rick stomped out of the house

“I’m just happy yer happy kid, even though I coulda gone my life without seein that” Daryl groaned as he too left lifting the air a bit with his approval

I turn looking up at Negan with a bit of worry that this would become a problem

“They’re pretty protective of you baby” he groaned as he lifted me back up onto the counter

“Will this be too much for you, I don’t want to overwhelm you ever but I can’t control what they do or say” I say biting my lip

“Ain’t nothings going to push me away Angel, I want you and I’ve got you, you’re my girl now”

“Who knew Thee Negan could be so sweet”

“Did our activites from before not show you that, seemed to really like it” my face blushed instantly at his words

“Negan stop!” I whine pushing at his chest playfully

“And so rudely interrupted but god do you taste good” his words made my lower belly tingle that familiar feeling whenever he’d touch me

“I know you want to take this slow but can’t we do more than just playing with eachother there’s gotta be something else right? I want more” that smirk was quickly back on his face that made me tingle

“Oh honey do I’ve got a lot to show you” he says gripping my thighs

“We’ve got all the time…….so show me” he was quick to lift me up wrapping my legs around his hips as he brought us upstairs to a room that would now be ours

He laid me down on the bed hovering over me, tracing his hands up and down my body

“So what do I do?” I ask as I fumble with his belt

“You just lay there and have fun, I’ve got you” he quickly discarded both our clothes leaving us bare and god was it exciting, his body and his tattoos had my body aching to be touched, excited for what he was going to do with me

He took my legs and spread them apart still red from what he did earlier, how he acted like a starved man on my pussy

“Fuck baby girl I’ll never get enough of this” he took his red angry dick in his hand and ran the tip up and down pushing against my clit, he squeezed my legs together for my pressure and god was it overwhelming

“You like that honey?” I was a moaning mess

“Faster please” he obliged and had my legs up over his shoulder, soon he was was grunting and his thrusts became sporadic and I knew he was close, I squeezed my legs tighter and than sent us both over the edge, his cum shot out coating my stomach but I didn’t care when euphoria was wracking my body

I felt my legs being laid back down on the bed and my stomach being cleaned before he laid next to me

“How was that baby girl?” He asked as he pulled the blankets up over us both

“I…..wow” he laughed making me smile as I looked up at him

“Yeah that’s about right, but there’s more where that came from”

I woke up feeling Negans arms wrapped around me, his head nuzzled into my shoulder his warmth surrounding me

I slowly got out of his embrace and pulled on his flannel and walked over to the window ledge, opening the window to let in some fresh morning air, sitting on the cushions of the nook, seeing the streets still empty only the sounds of birds chirping in the trees, reminding me of Carl whenever we were on the road and heard a chirp or a song he’d point out what it was, it always amused me he was such a nerd sometimes but I loved it

I hear a groan from the bed and the sheets rustling

“What’re you doing up sunshine, come back to bed” his voice gravelly with sleep as he rubbed his eyes

I got up and crawled over him as he pulled me down next to him, leaning up on on arm as his other hand brushed my hair back

“Did I wake you?”

“Nah just got cold, you okay?”

“Yeah just thinking”

“And what’s got your head running in circles” his gentle side with me always made me feel important…….special

“Just times with Carl, I remember he always talked about one day when we got older how our kids would run around and they’d be bestfriends just like us, he was always so optimistic”

“Is that what you want?”

“What?”

“Did you want kids?”

“I’ve thought about it, I always wanted a baby girl to show her all the beauties of the world but well you know the world ended and it’s not so beautiful anymore”

“I could if you really wanted, we’re safe here we could make something here” my heart thumped

“You’d……you’d wanna have a baby with me?”

He laughed as he pulled me closer

“I’ll do anything as long as it’s with you baby”

Taglist: @lanadelnegan @lvrgirl6999 @aubiewabie33 @mordilwen-of-mirkwood @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @sadgenderfluidmaniac @aleemendoza2425-blog @my-obsession-spn @heartsforelvispresley @donniedarkosblog @itsmytimetoodream @twisteduniverse5 @heidiland05 @negandevotee

[ivymarquis]

Hi loves 💕💕 I saw requests are open so I figured I'd send one in! I absolutely love your work you're so talented and I binge read all of your fics!!

I would like to request fem reader x soap where Soaps wife adopted a dog she found on the streets and keeps her even though he hates the idea.( he has a cannon fear of dogs which I find a little funny) slowly but surely he warms up to the dog but not fully. While he's out on a mission there's a robbery and the dog protects the reader and scares off the intruder. Soap hears about this and is instantly is best friends with the dog because even though he hates dogs he loves that the pup will protect his wife (I also hc that mabey it's not a street dog but a retired k9 reader adopted to feel safe while he was gone and she just didn't tell him until he comes home and sees a dog. it's up to you what you pick💓)

Hello anon I appreciate your patience!! I did pick and choose a wee bit to make the fic make sense for me, I hope you like it!

The Exception to the Rule

Pairing| Soap x Reader Rating| T Word Count| 1.9K Content/Warnings| Housekeeping first- this fic is SFW so if you find it in the tags I won’t be bothered about minors reading it but I am an MDNI blog and I will block any minors or ageless blogs who follow me. Got it? Cool. The author is an American attempting to write a Scottish accent, likely inaccuracies about how military dogs in general or bomb dogs in specific work. Allusions to prior animal injury, allusion to potential dog choking (in the context of choking off a working dog who won’t release its quarry), allusion to home invasion, dog bites, Johnny is not happy, the author does not condone getting animals you know your partner has issues with (but the plot necessitates it so on we go!)

Soap knows his wife well enough to know when she’s taken a “ask for forgiveness rather than permission” course of action. It’s written all over her face when she accepts his FaceTime call and answers his greeting of “What did ya dae, hen?“ with a “Please don’t be mad.”

Now certain men might have to worry about their brides stepping out on them on deployment. Soap knows her well enough to not even entertain that notion, so the wheels start turning for what exactly she could have done that has her looking this guilty out the gate.

The answer comes very suddenly in the form of a bark on the other end of the screen.

John Soap MacTavish sputters, something he is not often inclined to do, “Is that a fuckin’ dog?” And not just a dog. That wasn’t a little yappy fluffball who can be picked up with two fingers if need be. It sounds like one of the damn bomb dogs always yapping over in the kennels.

“Please don’t be mad!” She pleads again.

“Well a’m not happy, that’s for sure. Where and why did ye git that thing?”

This is completely out of character for her. Soap’s disdain for dogs (and why) is well known. She bloody well knows. So what the hell?

“It’s not permanent! You said this deployment would be a long one, and there’s been break ins in the neighborhood and I got nervous and my friend told me about this rescue group that helps rehome retired military dogs.” Her explanation is all in one breath. “They approved us” (Us??) ”as a foster family. He’s already got applications in for a permanent home. It just feels,” she pauses to catch her breath, and Soap can feel himself softening ever so minisculely to the dog- as long as he’s on the other side of the world, away from it, “safer here, with him here since you’re gone. The break ins have been really scary, they haven’t caught the guy yet.”

Fucking hell how is he supposed to argue with that? Especially if there’s some prick on the loose breaking into houses.

“Cujo better nae be oan th’ bed wi’ ye,” he grouses, acquiescing while still making his displeasure known.

“His name is Kabar and I’ll have the bed freshly stripped when you’re due back I promise.”

Soap is a god damn sucker for those pleading doe eyes, giving a big exasperated sigh to signal he’s letting her off the hook. “Fine. Bit he better be gaen by th’ time I pull intae th’ driveway. Let’s see th’ damn thing then,” Christ he hopes it’s not a Belgian Malinois. He knows they’re popular for military dogs but his darling is not built to handle a maligator, retired or not.

“Okay hang on,” she replies, notably cheerier as she taps the screen.

It’s a German Shepherd, thank fuck (Johnny must be having a stroke to be grateful for the sight of a German Shepherd in his bed)

He knows as well as anyone else they can be intense, but they’re a step down from the Malinois at least.

The coloring is traditional, but Soap’s brain starts nudging him that something is wrong with the dog. It takes a moment to click before he realizes the problem.

The damn dog only has three legs. “Is he a tripod?” The question is out before he can stop himself because no he is not inquiring about the damn dog. It was just a thought that escaped.

“He is a disabled veteran!” His bride corrects cheekily, before much more solemnly adding “He was a bomb dog.”

Oh Christ. He did not need to know that. Doesn’t need to think about the damn animal waking up one day with four legs and clocking in to work with his handler before boom.

“A’m only entertaining this because of the break ins, hen, am ah clear?”

Maybe having that booming bark rattling the windows will keep any would-be intruders at bay. This is the worst part of the job- being stuck on what might as well be the other side of the world when she’s got something to deal with.

“Absolutely crystal clear!” She’s all too agreeable, pleased as hell to have her cake (the dog) and eat it too (Johnny tolerating it).

Somehow this is going to blow up in his face and he’s going to permanently end up with a fucking military dog he doesn’t want, he just knows it.

But there’s no fucking way he can tell her No. Absolutely not. He goes back today, with a potential threat lurking around the neighborhood. He’d never forgive himself.

The rest of the conversation is much more in line with what he usually anticipates with their phone calls being- He doesn’t much like talking about work off the clock although lets her know of any interesting shenanigans around the base, and listening with baited breath as she regails him of tales both extraordinary and, well, extra ordinary.

Usually their phone calls end when she passes out in bed, and they’re perfectly poised to continue that habit tonight also.

“Ye made sure all th’ doors and windows are locked, hen?” He asks as she starts snuggling into the bedding underneath her.

“Yeah Johnny, I,” she cuts herself off with a big yawn “-I double checked them.”

It’s a few minutes later that the phone slips from her hand, camera pointing at the ceiling as she drifts off.

Johnny can almost imagine he’s at home laying on his back, watching the rhythmic movements of the ceiling fan in time with his lovely girl snoring slightly in his ear (despite her verbose protests that no she doesn’t snore- okay. Whatever you say, gorgeous.)

It’s an incredibly comforting moment that lets him feel a bit closer to home that is ruined by the sound of snuffling by the speaker.

The dog’s nose appears on screen, the angle making him look like an aardvark as he sniffs the phone before laying down, presumably relishing in the fact there’s not a damn thing Soap can do about this situation.

“Ye better keep an eye oan my girl, Cujo.” Soap grumbles as he begrudgingly hangs up the phone.

The mission ends quicker than expected- substantially quicker- and as content as Soap is with getting home he also is annoyed.

The mission got cut so short, and it’s so damn late by the time Soap is driving home that he knows the fucking dog is still there. The agreed upon date has not yet passed, which means that fuck is lazing about on his side of the bed.

Not to mention the mere obstacle of convincing a former military dog he’s never met, in the middle of the night, that yes this is his fucking house and he’s the one paying the bills around here and yes that actually is his spot on the bed so kindly fuck off.

At a point during his drive home, a police car flies by him. Then another. Then another.

Must be the fucker that’s been breaking into homes. Hopefully he gets caught and that’s one less thing to worry about when Johnny leaves again.

Except the red and blue lights seem to be fucking honed in from the spot that he’s steadily driving to, and Johnny’s convinving himself that he’s seeing things. There is no way that those lights and sirens are stemming from his house, thank you very much.

Even still, he feels himself driving faster. The sooner to quiet his anxiety that’s brewing.

The anxiety doesn’t dissipate as he makes each turn to his home. If anything it gets worse.

Because all that noise and the flashing lights are stemming from his own fucking home. Johnny can barely get the thing in park before he’s flying out of the vehicle. He can hear screams and specifically her crying and in an instant Johnny’s beyond being keyed up.

One of the officers attempts to intercept Johnny- thinks he’s just some nosy fuck from who knows where- and it takes everything in him not to blow his top entirely as he cuts the man off with a stern “This is mah house ‘n she’s mah wife!”

The sound of his voice booming into the night is enough to catch her attention and bring her running to him. Johnny embraces her as she flings herself at him, crying into his shirt as he strokes her back and soothes her.

He can piece together the general what happened, although he’s completely unaware of the details.

One piece begins to fit into place as he starts to hear what all the screaming is. His initial attention completely fixated on ensuring his wife is whole and hale, now he can check that off the mental list he now has the bandwidth to listen to the bellowing.

“Git it aff me! Och Jesus, someone git it aff o' me!”

“Cannae git th’ damn thing tae release him,” Johnny hears one of the officers comment dryly.

“Can always choke him off if the owners can’t git him tae let go,” the other one supplies.

“Eh, ah guess,” the first one responds in a bored tone that makes it clear he has a this guy fucked around and now he’s finding out, and I don’t see a reason to hurry- the dog looks happy anyway, stance to the situation.

On the side of the house, face down in the grass is the man who presumably broke inside.

He is so incredibly lucky there are witnesses and a sobbing wife to curtail the dark, angry thoughts swirling around in Johnny’s brain. Otherwise all it would take would be one phone call to Laswell and this prick disappears forever.

Attached to the calf of that man is Cujo, happily laying on the ground with his tail wagging slowly like his teeth aren’t sunk inside a man’s flesh. If the dog gets too annoyed with the man’s wiggling he shakes him like a chew toy, starting up a fresh round of someone git this fucking dog aff o’ me! until he lays still.

The mention of choking the dog off the would-be intruder doesn’t slip past his darling in the slightest, looking up at him with wet, pleading eyes.

Damn it all, he’s always a sucker for that look.

“Johnny, do you know how to make him let go? I don’t want him choked!”

He decides she’s probably better off not being told how often that ends up having to happen, and that Cujo will be just fine minus a few brain cells if push comes to shove.

But he has spent enough time (against his will, mind) around the dogs that he’s learned the basic commands over the years through repeated exposure.

“No promises, hen, bit we’ll see.” The dog has never met him a day in his life- there’s no guarantee he’s going to listen to a man that’s a stranger barking orders at him, but Johnny gives the sharp German command anyway.

To his surprise, the dog lets go immediately and turns towards them, giving the skipping lope that a 3 legged dog does before placing himself in a heel at Soap’s side, eyes wide and head tilted.

Johnny doesn’t want to think about what could have happened tonight if it wasn’t for Cujo- Kabar- taking such an involved roll in apprehending the man stupid enough to break into his home.

And he’s most assuredly not magically over his aversion to dogs- especially military dogs- but he might be able to tolerate an exception if it means having some peace of mind that his wife is safe at home.