#lap dog

[narxcisse]

★ — Hold Me, Console Me

Pairing: Jayce Talis x GN!Reader

CW: fluff, Jayce is a golden retriever (and definitely a lapdog), takes place in s1

English isn't my native language

Jayce was a beacon of light and energy for Piltover—a symbol of innovation, hope, and determination. But even the "Golden Boy" had his moments of exhaustion.

After a particularly grueling day of council meetings, overseeing Hextech developments, and dodging endless waves of criticism, Jayce found himself craving something simple and unassuming: solace.

He trudged through the place he shared with you, his boots heavy on the floor, his shoulders slumped. The weight of Piltover’s expectations had pressed into him all day, and he couldn’t shake it off. He barely managed a grunt of greeting as he walked in, his honey-brown eyes dull and tired.

You were curled up on the couch with a book, but the moment you saw him, you closed it without hesitation.

"Jayce?" you asked gently, concern lacing your voice.

His lips quirked up in a weary smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Just tired."

You scooted over on the couch, patting your lap invitingly. "Come here."

His head tilted like a curious puppy’s, and his eyes lit up ever so slightly. "Really?"

"Really," you said with a soft chuckle.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Jayce immediately kicked off his boots and collapsed onto the couch, resting his head in your lap with an audible sigh of relief. His broad frame barely fit on the couch, but he didn’t care—he melted against you like molten gold, his arm draping across your legs possessively.

"You’re warm," he murmured, his voice muffled by your shirt.

"You’re heavy," you teased, running your fingers through his thick, caramel-colored hair.

"Not too heavy, right?" His words had a hint of playfulness, but there was an undercurrent of vulnerability in them.

"Not at all," you assured him. "You’re perfect right where you are."

Jayce hummed contentedly, his eyes fluttering closed as your fingers worked their magic. You gently massaged his scalp, trailing your fingertips down to his temples and back again. It didn’t take long for his tense shoulders to relax, the strain of the day slowly melting away.

"You know," you said after a moment, "you really do remind me of a golden retriever sometimes."

His eyes snapped open, and he looked up at you, mock-offended. "Golden retriever?!"

"Yeah," you said, laughing softly. "All big and lovable and eager to please. Plus, you’ve got that golden-boy glow about you."

Jayce groaned but couldn’t hide the grin tugging at his lips. "Great. Now I’m Piltover’s mascot and your lapdog."

"Hey, don’t knock it," you said, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "You make a very good lapdog."

He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through your legs. "Guess I’ll take it, as long as I get to stay here."

"As long as you need," you promised.

Jayce stayed there for hours, nestled in your lap, letting your touch and presence restore him in ways nothing else could. For Piltover, he might always be the Golden Boy, but for you, he was simply Jayce—the man who loved you, and sometimes, the man who just needed to be held.

[ivyrotica]

aurgeh the thought of being played with on somebody’s lap 😵‍💫

being pulled onto his lap so easily, like i weigh nothing at all. his hands settling on my waist first, firm and possessive before they start roaming lower or higher or everywhere and anywhere he wants, like he fucking owns me. the casual way he could manhandle me, not even giving me time to react before i’m repositioned exactly how he wants me. adjusting me like a doll, only there to be used and toyed with for his entertainment and pleasure…

and i’d melt into it so fast, too — pliant and eager and already so dizzy just from being touched like that. my tense body coaxed into docility by his hands, like it knows it’s supposed to be used and manipulated.

[knoepfl]

Soft Moments in the Moonlight

Characters:

Clawd Wolf

Female Reader (You)

Trigger Warnings: None.

Masterlist

Words: 1074

---

The moonlight filtered through the curtains of your dorm room, casting a soft glow over the bed where you sat, waiting for Clawd Wolf to arrive. It had been a busy week at Monster High, with casketball practices, schoolwork, and general chaos keeping the two of you apart. But tonight, it was just you and him, and you couldn’t wait to relax in his arms.

A soft knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat as you stood up, opening the door to reveal Clawd. He stood there, looking as handsome as ever in his usual laid-back style, his signature jacket slung over one shoulder. His golden eyes sparkled as he smiled down at you, his tail giving a small wag of excitement.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping inside as you closed the door behind him. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

You grinned, taking his hand and leading him to your bed. “Me too. I think we both need a break after this week.”

Clawd chuckled, settling down on your bed with a content sigh. “You have no idea. I swear, I’ve been running on fumes since that last casketball practice.”

You climbed onto the bed next to him, leaning into his side as his arm automatically wrapped around you, pulling you closer. You felt the warmth of his body as you snuggled into his chest, his heartbeat steady and soothing.

“Well,” you said, your voice soft as you nuzzled into his neck, “you don’t have to worry about that now. It’s just us tonight.”

Clawd hummed in agreement, his hand coming up to gently stroke your back. “That’s exactly what I needed to hear,” he said, his voice low and warm.

As you shifted to get more comfortable, your fingers brushed through his thick, soft hair, and you noticed how he leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. A smile tugged at your lips as you continued to run your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Clawd let out a low, content growl, leaning further into your hand.

“Someone likes head scratches,” you teased, watching as his normally cool and confident demeanor melted away. He practically turned into a big puppy under your touch.

Clawd let out a soft chuckle, though it was clear he was too relaxed to be embarrassed. “What can I say? You’ve got the magic touch,” he murmured, closing his eyes as he rested his head against your shoulder.

You continued to gently scratch his head, letting your fingers glide through his soft hair. Clawd’s body relaxed even more, and before long, he was practically lying in your lap, his head nestled against your thigh as he let out a contented sigh. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close as if he never wanted to let go.

“You’re too good to me,” he muttered, his voice a little drowsy now that he was fully relaxed.

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection as you looked down at him. “I like taking care of you, Clawd,” you said softly, your hand never stopping its gentle strokes through his hair. “You’re always looking out for everyone else. You deserve to be taken care of, too.”

Clawd’s eyes fluttered open, and he gazed up at you with a warmth that made your chest tighten. “You’re the best, you know that?” he said softly, his hand moving up to cup your cheek for a moment before pulling you down so he could press a soft kiss to your lips.

The kiss was sweet and tender, full of all the love and affection the two of you shared. When he pulled back, his eyes shone with warmth and gratitude. “I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he admitted, his voice soft but full of sincerity.

You smiled, your heart fluttering at his words as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Well, lucky for you, you won’t have to find out,” you whispered, settling back down as Clawd pulled you closer.

After a few more moments of quiet affection, Clawd shifted, pulling you down with him until you were both lying side by side on the bed. His arm was securely around your waist, holding you against his chest as he nuzzled into your neck. The soft sound of his breathing filled the room, and you felt a sense of calm wash over you.

You rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as your fingers lazily traced circles on his arm. Clawd let out a soft hum of contentment, his hand gently rubbing your back in slow, soothing motions.

“Feels good to just be here with you,” Clawd murmured after a while, his voice low and relaxed.

You nodded, smiling against his chest. “I agree. I love nights like this.”

Clawd’s lips brushed the top of your head, and you felt him smile. “Me too. I could stay like this forever.”

The two of you lay there for a while, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten. Clawd’s body was warm and comforting, and the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed slowly lulled you into a peaceful state. The stress of the week melted away as you cuddled together, sharing quiet moments of affection.

Eventually, Clawd shifted slightly, pulling back just enough to look down at you. His golden eyes were soft, filled with an affection that made your heart skip a beat. “I love you,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you smiled up at him, your fingers gently caressing his cheek. “I love you too, Clawd.”

He smiled, his eyes closing for a moment as he leaned in to press another soft kiss to your lips. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“Let’s stay like this for a little while longer,” he murmured, his voice full of contentment.

You nodded, closing your eyes as you snuggled back into his chest. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.”

And so, the two of you stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms, sharing soft whispers and gentle touches under the light of the moon. The world outside could wait. Tonight, it was just you and Clawd, and nothing could be more perfect.

---

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed this cozy, soft moment between Clawd and his girlfriend! I wanted to show the gentle, caring side of their relationship and give Clawd a chance to relax and be vulnerable. If you have any more requests or ideas, feel free to share them!

[darling-chris]

Christine McVie & Puppy ca. 70s

Don’t know who‘s more adorable…

[thebaroquehuman]

1604-1605 Bianca degli Utili Maselli with her children - Lavinia Fontana

Bianca is here portrayed with only 6 of her 19! children by an artist who herself had 11. Sadly she would pass away at the age of 37 a year or two after the completion of her portrait.

[th0tsuk1b4kuh03]

To provide context: Mark Zuckerberg is the owner of Meta (therefore Whatsapp too), and just like Elon, a lapdog of Trump.

[animalsinmylife]

Daisy

[moaan]

Dog Wearing Furisode by Katsuaki Shoda Via Flickr: Apple iPhone 15 Pro

[phantomhivestims]

Cavalier King Charles Spaniel Stimboard

Picture not mine!!!!

🐾-🐶-🐾

🐶-🐾-🐶

🐾-🐶-🐾

[ojacksonscohen]

bestley_ november has been the wildest ride with the best ones

[knoepfl]

~The Devil's Jester~

Characters: Clopin Trouillefou, Reader (Evil Jester), Judge Claude Frollo 

Trigger Warnings: Emotional manipulation, distrust, morally gray dynamics. 

Masterlist

Summary:

As Topsy Turvy Day unfolds, Reader—Frollo’s obedient and enigmatic jester—meets Clopin Trouillefou. Suspicion, intrigue, and dangerous sparks fly between the two, leaving Reader questioning her role as Frollo’s most loyal pawn. 

Words: 1157

---

The raucous streets of Paris were a blur of color, music, and laughter, a stark contrast to the weight you carried under your jester’s motley. Bells jingled with every step you took, not to signal merriment but to warn others of your presence. Everyone knew what you were—Judge Frollo’s jester, bound to his will, more an agent of order than joy. 

Your painted smile betrayed none of the wariness you felt as you moved through the festival. The scent of roasting meat and spiced wine filled the air, and the drunken crowd danced around you like waves crashing on a shore. But amidst the noise and laughter, whispers followed wherever you went. You heard the murmurs:  “There goes Frollo’s little puppet.”  “Watch her. She’s trouble.” 

You ignored them, as you always did. You weren’t here for fun; you were here because Frollo commanded it. His orders were simple—watch the festivities, observe the gypsies, and report back. But simple tasks had a way of becoming complicated, especially during Topsy Turvy Day. 

Your gaze drifted toward the center of the square, where performers juggled fire and acrobats flipped through the air. And there, among the swirling chaos, stood the man you were supposed to be watching: Clopin Trouillefou. 

He was unmistakable, his vibrant costume as loud as his laughter, a mask perched jauntily over his face. He conducted the festivities as if he were both king and court fool, his voice carrying over the crowd with ease. For a moment, you forgot yourself, mesmerized by the way he moved, the way he commanded attention without effort. 

He saw you before you could slip back into the crowd. His sharp gaze locked onto yours, and a grin spread across his face—a grin that was both charming and dangerous. He made his way toward you with the easy grace of someone who feared nothing. 

“Well, well,” he said, stopping just close enough that you could smell the faint scent of wine on his breath. “Look who decided to join the festivities. Frollo’s jester, out of her cage. Tell me, little puppet, are you here to dance, or are you here to spy?”

You tilted your head, letting your painted smile stretch a little wider. “Can’t I do both?” 

Clopin’s laugh was warm, but there was something sharp beneath it, like a knife hidden in silk. “Ah, a multitasker. How delightful.” He leaned in closer, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Tell me, does Frollo know you’re here? Or are you out causing trouble on your own?”

Your heart quickened—not from fear, but from the strange thrill of being seen, truly seen, by someone like Clopin. No one ever looked at you like that, not even Frollo. To him, you were a tool, a weapon to be used and discarded. But Clopin’s gaze was different. It was playful, yes, but also curious, as if he were trying to solve a puzzle only he could see.

“I don’t cause trouble,” you said softly, your voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd. “I follow orders.”

Clopin’s grin faltered for just a moment, replaced by something like pity. “And what a dull life that must be,” he murmured. 

For a moment, you considered telling him the truth—that your life wasn’t dull, but safe. Frollo’s commands gave you structure, purpose. Without them, you were... lost. But you didn’t say any of that. Instead, you shrugged, the bells on your costume jingling with the movement. “It’s not so bad.”

Clopin studied you for a long moment, his gaze flickering over your face as if trying to peel back the layers of paint and pretense. “You’re lying,” he said, not unkindly. “But that’s all right. We all lie to ourselves, now and then.”

Before you could respond, he reached out and tapped the tip of your nose with a gloved finger, the gesture light and playful. “Come, little jester. Let’s see if we can teach you how to dance.”

He spun away, beckoning you to follow, and without thinking, you did. The crowd closed in around you as Clopin led you through the festival, weaving between dancers and acrobats with practiced ease. He twirled you once, twice, and though you stumbled, he caught you with a laugh that felt like sunshine breaking through a storm.

For the first time in years, you let yourself laugh too—really laugh, not the forced, hollow sound Frollo demanded. It was strange and exhilarating, like taking a breath after being underwater for too long.

“See?” Clopin said, his grin wide and infectious. “Not so bad, is it?”

You shook your head, breathless. “No... it’s not.”

The night wore on, and the festival became a blur of music and color. You danced with Clopin until your feet ached, forgetting, for a little while, who you were and what you were supposed to be. But as the bells of Notre Dame tolled midnight, reality crept back in, cold and unforgiving.

Clopin seemed to sense the shift in you. His expression sobered, though his eyes still sparkled with mischief. “So, what will it be, little jester?” he asked quietly. “Will you run back to your master and tell him everything? Or will you stay and dance with us?”

It was a simple question, but the answer felt impossible. You wanted to stay—God, how you wanted to. But you knew that staying meant more than just dancing. It meant defying Frollo, breaking free of the chains he had wrapped around your soul. 

“I can’t,” you whispered, the words tasting like ash on your tongue. 

Clopin’s gaze softened, and for the first time, his smile was sad. “There’s always a choice,” he said gently. “You just have to be brave enough to make it.”

You wanted to believe him. But the weight of Frollo’s control was too heavy, and the fear of what would happen if you disobeyed too great. You shook your head, stepping back, the bells on your costume jingling softly in the night air.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. 

Clopin gave you a long, searching look, as if trying to memorize every detail of your face. Then he smiled—a quiet, understanding smile that made your heart ache. “Maybe next time,” he said softly.

And with that, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving you standing alone in the square as the festival began to fade.

You watched him go, a strange mix of regret and longing swirling in your chest. You knew you would return to Frollo, just as you always did. But for the first time, the thought of obeying him felt like a prison sentence.

As you made your way back to Frollo’s chambers, the bells of Notre Dame tolled once more, their somber notes echoing through the empty streets. And with every step you took, Clopin’s words followed you, haunting you like a whisper in the dark.

There’s always a choice. You just have to be brave enough to take it.

---

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! If you have feedback, want a second part or requests for future fanfics, feel free to tell me!

[thebaroquehuman]

Lady Alfred Paget with her pets - Richard Buckner

[sunny-possum-pal]

Born to be a lap dog, forced to work

Available as shirts and prints

[bretzkysbs]

[animalsinmylife]

My big lap dog, Belle.

[moaan]

The Scent of February by Katsuaki Shoda Via Flickr: Canon EOS R6m2 + RF70-200mm F2.8 L IS USM