#I don't know how breeders do it

[wyrddogs]

Okay so I’ve spent the afternoon reading up on kinked tails and spinal issues.

I found some research articles (from 2021 and newer) saying that screw tail in English and French bulldogs, Boston terriers, and some other bully breeds is associated with the brachy face, wide head, and wideset shoulders of the breeds. Screw tail is either caused by or correlated to the DVL2 variant. Other issues associated to the DVL2 variant includes spinal defects and heart defects, both of which occur in those breeds.

When I searched “kink tail” and “LTV” there were no articles with both terms appearing in them. Same with “kink tail” and “cauda equina”. When I tried “kink tail” and “dachshund” I got studies on bulldogs or studies on IVDD in dachshunds. “Kink tail” and “spine” got studies on bulldogs.

When I went into the wider internet and was reading breeder opinions, I got a lot of hypotheticals but nothing concrete or even anecdotal. Just “if you breed a dog with a kinked tail the offspring will have spinal defects, and probably defects of the jaw, skull, heart, blood vessels, etc” and then they talked about how the spine is formed in the embryo. I found similar opinions from dachshund, gordon setter, and GSD breeders.

So obviously screw tail (specifically screw tail was stated in all the research articles) is associated with spinal defects, which I already knew. I’m having trouble finding anything concrete on tail kinks that occur at the end of the tail.

I know that the higher up the spine it is, the more likely it is to cause problems. But there are like five or more types of dwarfism that occur in dogs, two of which are in dachshunds, and all of them are associated with different phenotypes and health issues.

So my question is, which tail kinks are associated with spinal defects? DVL2 variant, obviously, but which other ones? All of them? Some of them? Which ones occur in dachshunds?

I had a radiographer look at Kermit’s spine in 2022 and he deemed it normal except for some mild calcification, which we would expect to see because he is a dachshund. We don’t want to see it but Kermit likely is the CDDY flavor of dwarf, and calcification comes with the territory. I’ve sent the radiographs off to OFA and INCOC, and am waiting for their responses.

I don’t know what any of Kermit’s family’s spines look like because neither his dam’s nor his sire’s breeders health test. They think I’m weird for testing Kermit.

So my question is:  Does anyone know of actual research into kinked tails and spine defects, in breeds other than bulldogs? And/or do you know where I can look?

[themoonking]

there is no such thing as a “low maintenance pet”, only different maintenance.

dogs, cats, fish, reptiles, birds, small mammals, et cetera all have different needs, and your individual lifestyle may be better suited to meeting the needs of one more than another. you may be able to properly care for a cat but not a fish, or a fish but not a rabbit, or a rabbit but not a bird, and so on, but that doesn’t make any pet “easier” to care for than another. it doesn’t make any pet need less care and attention than another.

promoting any pet as “low maintenance” leads to neglect at best and abuse at worst.

[swagging-back-to]

i find it so interesting how mice from a petstore will always be awake during the day and sleeping at night until they're left to acclimate and make their own schedule.

[dykepuffs]

How Do I Make My Fictional Gypsies Not Racist?

(Or, "You can't, sorry, but…")

You want to include some Gypsies in your fantasy setting. Or, you need someone for your main characters to meet, who is an outsider in the eyes of the locals, but who already lives here. Or you need a culture in conflict with your settled people, or who have just arrived out of nowhere. Or, you just like the idea of campfires in the forest and voices raised in song. And you’re about to step straight into a muckpile of cliches and, accidentally, write something racist.

(In this, I am mostly using Gypsy as an endonym of Romany people, who are a subset of the Romani people, alongside Roma, Sinti, Gitano, Romanisael, Kale, etc, but also in the theory of "Gypsying" as proposed by Lex and Percy H, where Romani people are treated with a particular mix of orientalism, criminalisation, racialisation, and othering, that creates "The Gypsy" out of both nomadic peoples as a whole and people with Romani heritage and racialised physical features, languages, and cultural markers)

Enough of my friends play TTRPGs or write fantasy stories that this question comes up a lot - They mention Dungeons and Dragons’ Curse Of Strahd, World Of Darkness’s Gypsies, World Of Darkness’s Ravnos, World of Darkness’s Silent Striders… And they roll their eyes and say “These are all terrible! But how can I do it, you know, without it being racist?”

And their eyes are big and sad and ever so hopeful that I will tell them the secret of how to take the Roma of the real world and place them in a fictional one, whilst both appealing to gorjer stereotypes of Gypsies and not adding to the weight of stereotyping that already crushes us. So, disappointingly, there is no secret.

Gypsies, like every other real-world culture, exist as we do today because of interactions with cultures and geography around us: The living waggon, probably the archetypal thing which gorjer writers want to include in their portrayals of nomads, is a relatively modern invention - Most likely French, and adopted from French Showmen by Romanies, who brought it to Britain. So already, that’s a tradition that only spans a small amount of the time that Gypsies have existed, and only a small number of the full breadth of Romani ways of living. But the reasons that the waggon is what it is are based on the real world - The wheels are tall and iron-rimmed, because although you expect to travel on cobbled, tarmac, or packed-earth roads and for comparatively short distances, it wasn’t rare to have to ford a river in Britain in the late nineteenth century, on country roads. They were drawn by a single horse, and the shape of that horse was determined by a mixture of local breeds - Welsh cobs, fell ponies, various draft breeds - as well as by the aesthetic tastes of the breeders. The stove inside is on the left, so that as you move down a British road, the chimney sticks up into the part where there will be the least overhanging branches, to reduce the chance of hitting it.

So taking a fictional setting that looks like (for example) thirteenth century China (with dragons), and placing a nineteenth century Romanichal family in it will inevitably result in some racist assumptions being made, as the answer to “Why does this culture do this?” becomes “They just do it because I want them to” rather than having a consistent internal logic.

Some stereotypes will always follow nomads - They appear in different forms in different cultures, but they always arise from the settled people's same fears: That the nomads don't share their values, and are fundamentally strangers. Common ones are that we have a secret language to fool outsiders with, that we steal children and disguise them as our own, that our sexual morals are shocking (This one has flipped in the last half century - From the Gypsy Lore Society's talk of the lascivious Romni seductress who will lie with a strange man for a night after a 'gypsy wedding', to today's frenzied talk of 'grabbing' and sexually-conservative early marriages to ensure virginity), that we are supernatural in some way, and that we are more like animals than humans. These are tropes where if you want to address them, you will have to address them as libels - there is no way to casually write a baby-stealing, magical succubus nomad without it backfiring onto real life Roma. (The kind of person who has the skills to write these tropes well, is not the kind of person who is reading this guide.)

It’s too easy to say a list of prescriptive “Do nots”, which might stop you from making the most common pitfalls, but which can end up with your nomads being slightly flat as you dance around the topics that you’re trying to avoid, rather than being a rich culture that feels real in your world.

So, here are some questions to ask, to create your nomadic people, so that they will have a distinctive culture of their own that may (or may not) look anything like real-world Romani people: These aren't the only questions, but they're good starting points to think about before you make anything concrete, and they will hopefully inspire you to ask MORE questions.

First - Why are they nomadic? Nobody moves just to feel the wind in their hair and see a new horizon every morning, no matter what the inspirational poster says. Are they transhumant herders who pay a small rent to graze their flock on the local lord’s land? Are they following migratory herds across common land, being moved on by the cycle of the seasons and the movement of their animals? Are they seasonal workers who follow man-made cycles of labour: Harvests, fairs, religious festivals? Are they refugees fleeing a recent conflict, who will pass through this area and never return? Are they on a regular pilgrimage? Do they travel within the same area predictably, or is their movement governed by something that is hard to predict? How do they see their own movements - Do they think of themselves as being pushed along by some external force, or as choosing to travel? Will they work for and with outsiders, either as employees or as partners, or do they aim to be fully self-sufficient? What other jobs do they do - Their whole society won’t all be involved in one industry, what do their children, elderly, disabled people do with their time, and is it “work”?

If they are totally isolationist - How do they produce the things which need a complex supply chain or large facilities to make? How do they view artefacts from outsiders which come into their possession - Things which have been made with technology that they can’t produce for themselves? (This doesn’t need to be anything about quality of goods, only about complexity - A violin can be made by one artisan working with hand tools, wood, gut and shellac, but an accordion needs presses to make reeds, metal lathes to make screws, complex organic chemistry to make celluloid lacquer, vulcanised rubber, and a thousand other components)

How do they feel about outsiders? How do they buy and sell to outsiders? If it’s seen as taboo, do they do it anyway? Do they speak the same language as the nearby settled people (With what kind of fluency, or bilingualism, or dialect)? Do they intermarry, and how is that viewed when it happens? What stories does this culture tell about why they are a separate people to the nearby settled people? Are those stories true? Do they have a notional “homeland” and do they intend to go there? If so, is it a real place?

What gorjers think of as classic "Gipsy music" is a product of our real-world situation. Guitar from Spain, accordions from the Soviet Union (Which needed modern machining and factories to produce and make accessible to people who weren't rich- and which were in turn encouraged by Soviet authorities preferring the standardised and modern accordion to the folk traditions of the indigenous peoples within the bloc), brass from Western classical traditions, via Balkan folk music, influences from klezmer and jazz and bhangra and polka and our own music traditions (And we influence them too). What are your people's musical influences? Do they make their own instruments or buy them from settled people? How many musical traditions do they have, and what are they all for (Weddings, funerals, storytelling, campfire songs, entertainment...)? Do they have professional musicians, and if so, how do those musicians earn money? Are instrument makers professionals, or do they use improvised and easy-to-make instruments like willow whistles, spoons, washtubs, etc? (Of course the answer can be "A bit of both")

If you're thinking about jobs - How do they work? Are they employed by settled people (How do they feel about them?) Are they self employed but providing services/goods to the settled people? Are they mostly avoidant of settled people other than to buy things that they can't produce themselves? Are they totally isolationist? Is their work mostly subsistence, or do they create a surplus to sell to outsiders? How do they interact with other workers nearby? Who works, and how- Are there 'family businesses', apprentices, children with part time work? Is it considered 'a job' or just part of their way of life? How do they educate their children, and is that considered 'work'? How old are children when they are considered adult, and what markers confer adulthood? What is considered a rite of passage?

When they travel, how do they do it? Do they share ownership of beasts of burden, or each individually have "their horse"? Do families stick together or try to spread out? How does a child begin to live apart from their family, or start their own family? Are their dwellings something that they take with them, or do they find places to stay or build temporary shelter with disposable material? Who shares a dwelling and why? What do they do for privacy, and what do they think privacy is for?

If you're thinking about food - Do they hunt? Herd? Forage? Buy or trade from settled people? Do they travel between places where they've sown crops or managed wildstock in previous years, so that when they arrive there is food already seeded in the landscape? How do they feel about buying food from settled people, and is that common? If it's frowned upon - How much do people do it anyway? How do they preserve food for winter? How much food do they carry with them, compared to how much they plan to buy or forage at their destinations? How is food shared- Communal stores, personal ownership?

Why are they a "separate people" to the settled people? What is their creation myth? Why do they believe that they are nomadic and the other people are settled, and is it correct? Do they look different? Are there legal restrictions on them settling? Are there legal restrictions on them intermixing? Are there cultural reasons why they are a separate people? Where did those reasons come from? How long have they been travelling? How long do they think they've been travelling? Where did they come from? Do they travel mostly within one area and return to the same sites predictably, or are they going to move on again soon and never come back?

And then within that - What about the members of their society who are "unusual" in some way: How does their society treat disabled people? (are they considered disabled, do they have that distinction and how is it applied?) How does their society treat LGBT+ people? What happens to someone who doesn't get married and has no children? What happens to someone who 'leaves'? What happens to young widows and widowers? What happens if someone just 'can't fit in'? What happens to someone who is adopted or married in? What happens to people who are mixed race, and in a fantasy setting to people who are mixed species? What is taboo to them and what will they find shocking if they leave? What is society's attitude to 'difference' of various kinds?

Basically, if you build your nomads from the ground-up, rather than starting from the idea of "I want Gypsies/Buryats/Berbers/Minceiri but with the numbers filed off and not offensive" you can end up with a rich, unique nomadic culture who make sense in your world and don't end up making a rod for the back of real-world cultures.

[trinkettes]

I've been walking my neighbour's dog recently, he's exactly what you would imagine a 7 month old shih tzu/lhasa apso mix owned by an old lady to be like. I wish I could have a neon sign over my head saying

THIS IS NOT MY DOG

I AM NOT THE ONE TRAINING HIM

I am trying to set a good example but I can't make any big changes cause it's not my place and it wouldn't be consistent I swear I would have higher standards if it was my own dog

[felinefractious]

Do you consider brachycephalism in cats as serious as in dogs? I'm in veterinary medicine but I don't encounter many brachy kitties and would love to hear your thoughts on it.

Brachycephaly is a problem.

Schlueter et al (2009) categorized brachycephalic head shapes into four categories randing from mild to severe.

Moderate brachycephaly is where we begin to really see problems and profound or severe brachycephalic cats are going to have a real issue.

The British Shorthair (left) is a breed where mild brachycephaly is part of the standard compared to an Exotic Shorthair (right) where profound - severe brachycephaly is desireable.

On the left with have a British Shorthair, in the center an Exotic Shorthair and on the right a Persian.

One of the problems we see with brachycephalic breeds is stenotic nares, which are narrow nostrils. You can’t even make out the nares on the Persian shown above and, as one may expect, this affects how much air they move through them.

We can see similar obstructive effects in cats with nasopharyngeal polyps, masses or reconstruction due to scarring from chronic rhinosinusitis problems.

Due to their inability to breath normally through their nose these cats tend to be heat and exercise intolerant and can run into trouble more quickly during high stress events.

Stenotic nares can be surgically corrected but I don’t think this is as common in cats as it is in dogs, at least I haven’t encountered many cats who’ve undergone the procedure. I don’t know if it’s not as necessary, if cats don’t respond as well or if cat owners are less likely to seek treatment.

Or maybe it is as common and my lack of experience is the outlier.

Brachycephaly is also associated with malocclusion and dental disease, chronic epiphora, facial dermatitis related to the chronic tearing and ocular issues such as conreal sequestrum or entropion related to the protruding eye structure.

I know globe proptopsis is a problem in some brachycephalic dog breeds like pugs but I haven’t heard of this specifically happening in brachycephalic cat breeds.

Exotics and Persians are obviously the worst when it comes to brachycephaly in cats but the Bombay and (American) Burmese are also offenders.

There are other breeds which don’t call for a brachycephalic head shape (or even default it) or call for only a mild version but certain breeders are selecting for extreme typeing anyways because even though their cats might not win any shows they can sell them as designer variants for more.

On the left we have a Sphynx and in the right we have a Devon Rex both with an extreme head type contradictory to the breed standard.

So yes, unfortunately the brachycephalic head type is a problem in cats. Some try to argue that brachycephalic animals often live long lives which means the abnormal structure isn’t a problem… but longevity is only one measure of a breeds ethical soundness, quality of life and history are also important in my opinon.

[headspace-hotel]

I looked up some stuff about the "domestication syndrome" in animals because I read a couple times in books the idea that domesticated animals are neotenous, meaning they retain juvenile traits into adulthood. The idea being that humans have essentially created more helpless, more exploitable versions of wild animals to "dominate" and abuse nature.

I thought, "Okay, that sounds like something that couldn't be proven. How much do we even know about the juvenile brain development of, say, wild goats or boars, anyway?"

So I found this review of the literature that goes back to the fur farm fox domestication study and it's even worse than I thought: We don't even know that a 'domestication syndrome' in animals exists at all, let alone whether it is a retention of juvenile traits into adulthood.

So the fur farm fox domestication study: you may have heard of it, it claimed to have demonstrated that within a few generations, by selecting for tameness, the researchers bred "domesticated" foxes with a whole suite of traits that appear in many domesticated animals but seem unrelated to tameness, such as piebald coloration and floppy ears. The idea is that the genes for tameness and for these other traits commonly seen in domestic animals are linked, that is, an animal that inherits one is likely to inherit the other.

There's some major problems. First of all, all the foxes used in the study were from fur farms, and had already been selected for some level of docility and for coat color variation. The foxes didn't get white spots on them because they were selected for tameness, instead the pre-existing population they were selected from had those genes in it to begin with. Also, the effective population size of the foxes in the study was pretty small, meaning a small amount of genetic drift could have a big impact.

Second, there isn't very much evidence for most of the "domestication syndrome" traits in most animals. Even where the "domestication syndrome" traits can be found, they are often particular to specific breeds, and it's unclear whether they are linked to domestication as such or just the development of that specific breed.

This study only deals with a few animals, mostly small animals. It would be even more interesting to see a breakdown of even more animals (particularly more large animals). Off the top of my head, almost none of these would apply to horses, and only in specific cases would apply to cattle. Even in dogs, extreme changes in skull morphology have happened relatively recently with breeders in modern times going after extreme phenotypes.

Particular to cats: extreme skull changes and floppy ears occur as part of some "breeds" because they are specific painful genetic disorders that breeders of cats decided to perpetuate VERY recently. Scottish Folds were deliberately developed from cats that just so happened to have a disease that causes them to be in constant suffering due to their messed up joints, it's not just a variation that regularly pops up in cats to varying extents. Likewise with the smushed-face Persians. Their brains are getting squished into where their spinal cords should go because their skulls are so messed up from selective breeding for an extreme look.

What domestication means has been majorly shaken up in the past hundred years. With companion animals, breeders are in a race to make the most screwed up animal with the most extreme, striking traits possible, and with livestock animals, lots of heritage breeds with more variations have straight up gone extinct because they've been flattened into industrial monocultures to produce meat and milk as efficiently as possible, health and genetic diversity be damned.

To study domestication itself, you would have to study landrace breeds, right?

Basically there isn't one thing that domestication is

[kedreeva]

Okay so, I don't think I've spoken of the saga here yet but! Gather round. I shall tell you a long story about the bird I just acquired and why she is VERY IMPORTANT.

At the beginning of last fall, I started looking into quail genetics a little more, because I got tired of not being able to sex my Celadon quail by their feathers. Originally I thought I could kill 2 birds (ok maybe more) with 1 stone and order nice jumbo wild type (which MANY places advertised as wild type jumbo) hatching eggs, and this would help me put some size on the Celadons (jumbo) while also making them feather sexable (wild type). Perfect!

But then I come to find out that pretty much all jumbo lines are jumbo BROWNS, as in they all have the sex linked brown (SLB) gene. So, I was a little confused and a LOT annoyed because I wanted to work specifically with the wild type color/pattern. No mutations just straight, plain wild type.

And EVERYWHERE I looked - major production hatcheries, private breeders through websites, Facebook groups, local swaps, craigslist, e v e r y w h e r e -

People ONLY had SLB.

This spring I came across a video showing about the differences between SLB and wild type and I figured if the person who made it can tell, maybe she will have some. So I looked her up (not in a stalker way, her farm name was stamped on the video and took me to the website), and what luck! She was in Michigan! Upper Michigan, so still a hike, but not California, y'know?

So I shot her an email and explained that I was looking for WT and that her site said she bred them and that people could do local pickup. She responded yeah she's totally got a bunch! And I said great, I'm also in Michigan, albeit far away, but I don't mind driving 7+ hours each way, because I really need actual, trusted WT for sure birds for my celadon project, can I come pick them up?

Cue the most frankly bizarre email chain in my short life. As soon as I mentioned that I was going to drive, or perhaps that I had a genetics plan in place, she got super sketchy and started saying how she hadn't really paid as close attention to SLB vs. WT, that it mattered less than she thought it would when she started, that I shouldn't focus on that either, and also that "fawn celadon is practically unheard of" in the hobby and "you should focus on a clean Tibetan because it's hard to find without roux in it) implying that I should concentrate on those things instead. And concluded by telling me if I really want WT, to contact this other person (why happens to be someone I can't stand). It all sounded VERY much like she didn't have wild type males, after all, and had thought I didn't know the difference so it wouldn't actually matter. But, it does. It actually matters a lot to me.

So I messaged back to say, well, I don't want to do any of those things, I specifically want to work with this set of genetics and you said you have them so I shouldn't have to go to anyone else??

And then she went radio silent for a week. I kind of figured I'd called a bluff, and that she was one of dozens of people I'd contacted who'd said they had WT only to find out they had SLB. I get that it's difficult to see the difference, but this particular person was the president of the American Coturnix Breeders Association or whatever (found out it's actually just a club formed by her and her friends a year ago, so not as impressive as it sounds, considering they don't actually DO anything- no putting on shows, no newsletters, no certifications, no public breeder directory, no finished SOP, nada), so I kind of expected she should know what she's talking about, if anyone does.

Eventually, after a week, she responded that she had been judging at a county fair, but she had a few heterozygous males (WT het roux, which is fine) and she could set a hatch for me for more if I wanted to come at the end of the month, but she's in WI now, not MI. I said sure, since where she was in WI was actually closer than where she'd been in the UP, and we arranged date/time.

The day of, my neighbor friend, Jude, comes with me for company/keeping me awake through the 15 hours driving round trip. It's a pleasant enough drive. We arrived at a cutesy little house on the edge of town that looks like anyone's house in a neighborhood, with a spacious lawn. The person meets us and takes me around the side of the house to a 6x6x1.5 or so chicken tractor, where she's got some male coturnix. She pulls the available males for me to look through and... fam, they ALL looked SLB, to me.

Now, she swore to me up and down that they couldn't be anything except WT het for roux, because of the way she is breeding them. But I've put these birds next to my SLB males and if I didn't have my males banded, I would not ever have told the difference between them. I still picked up 4 of them, because I will give it a go- worst case, I can produce plain Roux hens/plain Roux males for use in breeding later, best case they do actually produce WT hens and they just LOOK SLB and I have to figure out what the differences are. I don't want to leave without seeing her hens, which she has told me are all WT (which is why the males HAVE to be het for it), and she takes me back. Now the hens, the hens are easy to see the difference. White bellies first of all, but the chest feathers are also wildly different! The shafts are white, the dot around the shaft is dark, ringed in red, ringed in white. On an SLB, the shafts aren't white, it's just a black dot surrounded in a red feather, and the belly is all red/buff/cream, not white.

This is what an SLB hen looks like:

So I take a nice long look to memorize the color, and thank her for showing me and meeting, and we head back home.

I do fecals when I get home because all of the males are VERY thin, no meat on them at all, and since she said she'd been feeding Purina (garbage for fowl feeds), I figured that was why, but no- HUGE coccidia loads in all of them. So I treated them and got them on a better feed. They immediately began putting on meat, and they're find now.

The rest of this summer, I have spent going to local bird swaps and inspecting all of the quail I could find, hoping to find one (1) actual wild-type phenotype bird. Hundreds and hundreds of birds, I have pawed through them all, being super obnoxious to the owners I'm sure, holding and inspecting males. I found ONE suspected WT male (and this is a HUGE "suspected," he could very well be SLB with low red expression). I compared him when I got home and I'm doubting myself still, so I don't know if I will ever actually pair him with the SLB hens or if I'll just wait til I have a roux set.

Regardless, it's been a dry season for getting what I want. It's been a dry YEAR. Yesterday was another swap and more hundreds of quail and me pawing through all of them.

Until.

My eyes landed upon.... her.

If you've only lived in an area that has american crows and not ravens, you find yourself wondering if crows are ravens. You see a big crow and you think wow! maybe that is a raven! It could be a crow, but it's seems bigger so maybe it's a raven. But, if you take a trip to a place with ravens, and you see one for the first time, you realize that there is no question, when you see a raven. When you see a raven in person, there's no question and not only is there no question, you wonder how you could ever have thought a crow was a raven. It's laughable, while looking at the raven.

That's how finding this bird felt. I'd been picking up every SLB hen and going maybe this is actually WT? It could be SLB but maybe it's WT? But the second I laid eyes on her in the middle of a pack of SLB with some mixed colors, I knew I was looking at WT hen, and I can't imagine how I ever thought maybe an SLB hen was WT.

Here's a better photo of her chest and belly (she's beat UP from her previous home, the back of her head and most of her rump are plucked clean from males). You can see the white shafts and the white belly.

And some other pics of her, showing the grey-brown on her side and back- VERY different than the SLB hens

I can't express how stoked I am about this bird. This is the first time after a LOT of effort and time, that I have felt confident I am holding the bird I want.

She's also the indicator that I have a LOT of work ahead of me.

My end goal is to have birds that look like her, weigh 12-14oz, and lay large, blue eggs. I have birds that lay large, blue eggs, I have birds that weigh 12-14oz live weigh, and now I have at least 1 bird that looks like her, which means I can make more that look like her. The first step is cleaning the color mutations out of the celadon line without losing the celadon eggs. This is going to be a bit of a nightmare, BUT, I have a friend helping me out with getting a few celadons that are either WT or SLB (I'm guessing SLB all things considered) to start the work with. I will work over the winter to get a few more actual WT birds here, and to start crossing out the celadons with the SLB jumbos to clean out the other feather color mutations. Once I'm down to just SLB and celadon for mutations, I can clean the SLB out with the WT and roux lines.

This project will likely take me a good 2 years, maybe 3, to complete and then test breed to ensure I haven't lost the celadon gene and I don't have any hidden recessives lingering about. But just having the fucking materials to do it all on hand now is a huge step forward from where I was when I decided to start the project.

[dark-and-kawaii]

You can pick who but I'm begging for more smut from you. Zevlor Rolan Haarlep Raphael whoever I just need it. Call me thirsty I don't care.

Shameless Smut

Haarlep x f!Tav/Reader - Zevlor x f!Tav/Reader - Raphael xf!Tav/Reader - Rolan x f!Tav/Reader - Dammon x f!Tav/Reader

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: I- I picked everyone and added Dammon because i'm horny and unhinged like that... AND BE THIRSTY WE LOVE A THIRSTY HOOMAN!!!

⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Haarlep Is The Best | Big Dick Zevy | Creampie | Dirty Talk | Breeding | Pregnancy | Choking | Tail Play | Public Sex | Lorroakan Is A Perv | Dammon Chokes You With His Tail | I Missed Stuff But Oh Well

Enjoy xoxo

Haarlep

“What would the city think, their precious little hero-“ Haarlep thrusted the rest of their cock inside you, “filled with an incubus’s seed.” They continue to ravish your cunt, stretching and filling you so well, you could only pant as you clenched the sheets.

“How would they react-“ Haarlep bent down, their teeth grazing against the back of your neck, their hand caressing your still flat tummy, “seeing their savior swollen with a demon’s child~” The incubus bit down gently, but enough to mark you, a dark red hickey blooming where their lips met your skin. You groaned, tightening up on their cock, the thought of bearing an incubus’s child, bearing a demon child, was strangely arousing.

Haarlep growled at the feeling of you squeezing down on them, and continued pounding into you, their hand tangling in your hair to press your face against the mattress, your ass high in the air. You let out a muffled moan as Haarlep ravished you, the head of their cock hitting that spongy spot inside you every time, and their tail rubbing your clit with a speed and skill that rivaled your own hand. You felt the knot in your stomach tighten and coil, your moans turning into desperate mewls.

“s’too- too much! I-I can’t- AH~!!”

Haarlep’s hand wraps around your throat as they slam into your sopping pussy, the bed creaking, “So pretty with my hand around your delicate little neck-“ headboard slamming into the wall and you just have to hang onto the sheets like your life depends on it.

"Do I scare you?" The incubus purred, letting the hand squishing your neck tighten around it, "Do I terrify you? You know what I am and what I can do." Their voice was low and their breathing harsh.

Haarlep’s breathing picked back up when you nodded- their hip knocking against you painfully when your hand came up and sealed around their wrist, pressing down. Wanting them to do it, to press harder, to push you around more and more, shamed in how good the feel of their hand squeezing your throat made you feel."Y-Yes! Y-you- nngh- a-ah~!” you gasped, "B-but you- f’m-make me f-feel- n-nngh- s’good- AH~!"

You were a mess beneath them, panting and moaning like a bitch in heat, the feeling of them filling you up making you see stars, “gu-gunna fill m-me~” you babbled, eyes rolling back. Haarlep chuckled darkly, their thrusts becoming sloppy.

"Pump you full- fill your womb with my seed- fill you till you're leaking-" Haarlep grinned against your flesh, "-until the hero’s stomach swells with my child- I'll make you a mother, a breeder for my little demons." They mutter, the tip of their tail flicking your clit just right, your thighs trembling and your vision whiting out.

"F-Fuck! Haarlep~!!" Your orgasm slammed into you, making you scream.

“Good! Cum- cum with me, little mortal-!"

"S'gonna- I-I-!! G-Gods, please!~" You sobbed your body going numb. Haarlep always teeters on losing themself at this part, always brought back though to reality by your nails digging into their wrist, and how sweetly you whimper their name.

"H-Haarlep~” you sob, wanting, needing their cum, "I-I want- I w-wanna b-be a m-mother, w-want you t-to f-fill me- g-give me a c-child~" You were crying now, the way your walls just clamp down around them, pulsing and gushing.

"I'll take such good care of you~" they coo, kissing your tears away as they paint your insides white. Their seed warm and thick, Haarlep pressed themself deeper inside you to push their cum even further. Their tip rubbing against your cervix, the incubus wanting to be sure their sperm finds a home in your womb.

Their goal to make sure the shape of their cock is imprinted into your gummy walls, wanting to ruin you for anyone else. 

Rolan

Rolan grabbed your arms, his face deepening in color as soon as his back hits the scroll shelf. He looked down at you, his lips parted in a slight snarl, his nostrils flaring, "Th-Thish is highly inappropriate-." He tries to protest, but you push forward, your lips meeting his. He stiffens for a moment before he relaxes- almost. Pushing you off of him, Rolan glares at you, his lips firm. "You're insufferable-." He groans, “You need to leave before Lorroakan retur-“.

You stare at the cut on his eyebrow, your eyes trailing to find the bruise on his cheek. The marks his mentor left behind… Your eyes darkened, and you press up against him, your chest rubbing against his.

"I'm not leaving until I know you're alright." You hiss, your eyes softening when you find his stare, your lips pursed, “besides~” You tiptoe your fingers up his chest, tracing over his heart, before finding his neck, then his chin. You lean in, gently pulling him forward. His breath hitching. "I want him to catch us~” You glide your nail against his throat, causing Rolan to swallow thickly, his adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flutter close and he sighs.

"You are… insufferable," he says, his voice a mere whisper. Your lips curl into a smirk as you pull him in for a kiss, pressing your body closer.

“Want him~” you trace his bottom lip with your tongue, nipping him gently, "to catch me~" you whisper, his breath deepening, before his hands find their way around your waist, gripping the fabric of your shirt, “to watch me take you~".

Rolan inhales sharply, his lips parting just enough for your tongue to slip through, the heat of his mouth causing your eyes to flutter closed. He groans, his hand cupping the back of your neck, his tongue brushing against yours. You pull back, a string of saliva connecting the both of you. His mouth following yours before you push him back again, “I want Lorroakan to hear my sweet Rolan’s moans~"

You tug up on his robe, "Want him to hear me cry your name~.” You bite your lip, “To watch you fill my dripping pussy with your delicious cum~" You glance up at Rolan, whose face is completely flushed, his lips parted, and eyes dark, “Wanna bruise his ego~”

"You are going to be the death of me," He spins the two of you, your back to the shelf now. His hips roll forward and you can feel the evidence of his arousal.

"I'll be your death." you whisper, pressing up against him.

Rolan groans, his lips ghosting against your neck, "And what a way to go," he mumbles, his breath hot. He kisses along your neck, his teeth grazing over your pulse. He reaches his hand out, and grabs the shelf above you, knocking a scroll onto the ground, "Lorroakan is going to find us." He warns, “ The man knows everything that happens in this tower."

You moan as he bites your neck, his fingers digging into your skin before pushing you down to the ground. Rolan’s hand forcefully flips your dress up, bunching it at your hips, his other hand reaching to rub the wet spot of your panties, "So wet already."

He pulls down your undergarments, his hand slipping between your slick folds, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in slow circles, his middle finger sliding into you, his index finger teasing the edge of your ass, "Such a degenerate," he purrs, his tail flicking behind him.

You moan, rocking your hips, feeling his fingers slide in and out, “Rolan~," you mewl, spreading your legs, your chest pressed into the wooden floor.

"Look at you, getting so wet, so loud." His fingers move faster, the lewd, wet noises filling the tower. You moan, reaching a hand back, grasping his arm. Rolan grunts, "Do you want Lorroakan to find us? Hear me make you a sloppy mess?" He growls, adding another finger, "Do you want him to see how good you're taking my fingers? Hear the noises you make?"

You nod, "Yes!" you mewl, "P-please~, rut into me, Rolan~."

He scoffs, his fingers leaving you, the wetness trickling down your thighs. You feel his cock slide between your slick folds, a low groan leaving his throat, "Such a needy thing," he mumbles, his lips trailing soft kisses along your back, "My needy thing." he growls, his hands wrapping around your waist, his tail coiling around your leg.

He pushes in, a small groan leaving his throat, his hips flush against your ass, his head pressed into your back, "So tight," he groans, his nails digging into your sides, "My beautiful girl."

He starts to move, pulling out until only the tip is left, and then roughly thrusting in. You gasp, pushing back against him, feeling his hips slap against your ass, "R-Rolan~" you moan, clawing the wood beneath you, "M-More~" you whine.

Rolan moves his hands to your breasts, groping and pinching throat the thin fabric of your dress, his thumbs rolling over your nipples, "How lewd of you, getting turned on by the thought of being caught." He teases while he rocks his hips, his tail tightening around your leg. He grunts, his thrusts growing erratic, his nails digging into the tender flesh of your breasts.

Rolan is too focused on you, his rough snaps causing scrolls to fall from the shelf beside you, but as you tilt your head you notice a pair of eyes staring at you, their cock in their hand.

You lock eyes with Lorroakan, who watches silently. The sight of him causes a chill to run up your spine, your back arching as Rolan pulls you up giving Looroakan a perfect view of his cock thrusting into you, your juices coating his cock making a mess on the floor. Rolan doesn't stop, his nails digging into the soft flesh of your breasts, his head buried in the crook of your neck. "Cum for me," He whispers in your ear, his hot breath fanning against your neck, his pace unrelenting, his cock hitting all the right places.

"M' s'so close~," You whine, your eyes never leaving Lorroakan’s, "C-Cumming~" you mewl, closing your eyes. Your body tenses, and the knot in your stomach snaps, your legs twitching as Rolan keeps thrusting, your walls clenching around his cock. Rolan's hips stutter, his thrusts growing sloppy, and a low groan leaves his throat, "D-Damn," he grunts, his cum spilling out, the warmth causing a shudder to run through your body.

You hear Lorroakan groan, his own cum covering his hands. His eyes meet yours, and you bite your lip, your hand reaching behind your to pull Rolan's face to yours. "Kiss me~," and he obliges, his hand slipping between your legs, rubbing your overstimulated clit, "Again?" He chuckles, "Such a dirty girl."

You would keep at it until Lorroakan had to come pull you off Rolan…

Raphael

"Sweet little mouse." Raphael whispers, taking in how fucked out you are beneath him, wheezing out how good he feels. 

"Do you like being pinned down like this, hm?" it's an almost teasing lilt. You think he’s laughing at your stupefied state, but in reality he’s marveling, basking in how good you are to him, greedily accepting his cock.

You nod your head, whimpering. The motion is a pathetic, weak jerk. A few strands of hair fall across your forehead. He takes note of how flushed your cheeks are, how glossy your eyes look.

The sight makes him groan. You feel so good, clenching and spasming around him with each thrust, making him throb and swell.

He has you trapped, completely. Raphael has broken you to the point where all you can do is take his cock, whimpering and crying as he drives it deeper into you, stretching your insides so that they fit his shape and no one else's ever again. Eradicating the memories of those who had been with you prior.

You think to yourself, there’s nothing more delicious than being pressed, pinned down onto his bed, bred like livestock, and barely able to suck in a shaky breath of air between each rough thrust.

The feeling of his cock plunging deep inside, filling you up, stretching you, is addicting. You don't know how many times he’s made you cum, only that it doesn't seem to stop. Unable to focus on anything else besides the cock splitting you open and the pleasure wracking through your body.

"M-more~!!" you wail against the sound of your squelching cunt, feeling his thick cock tug at your walls as he leaves. It’s a frenzy entanglement- you provoke him, spur him on to drive into you faster and harder, the way you wiggle and clench down onto his thick cock, creaming so hard that with each impact you can not only hear it- you feel it splatter down in between the folds of your stretched cunt, drip down the seam of your ass. 

The cambion more than willing to provide. He’ll keep you forever, a beautiful ornament for his bed, his own personal toy to fuck whenever he desires, a perfect suitor to give him children, an army of his own blood, a pretty little thing to keep by his side. 

Zevlor

“Mm~ Zevlor-” warm hands made their way up your thighs. You gasped at the feeling of your underwear being pulled to the side. The cool air nipped at your hot skin. 

"I- I missed you so much, Zevy.”

The tiefling let out a soft hum, "I’ve been quite busy, haven’t I?" his tail brushed against your folds, and your breath hitched.

He chuckled and pressed his thumb on your clit. He began rubbing it in circles and you mewled in delight.

"I apologize," he whispered in your ear.

His lips trailed hot kisses down your arm, his hands wondering over your entire body, pausing at your swollen belly and looking up at you.

You met his gaze with half lidded eyes and smiled, caressing his cheek. His eyes softened and a smile grew on his lips as he continued kissing lower and lower. Situating himself in between your thighs, he hooked your legs over his shoulders, as he buried his face in your pussy.

The heat of his tongue sent a shiver through your spine and a groan escaped your lips. You arched your back off the bed and grabbed his horns.

"Z-Zev~" his thick fingers held your cunt lip apart, his tongue making small circles around your clit before a finger probed at your dripping hole.

"S's~ hahhh~" Zevlor curled his fingers, feeling for the spongy spot that made you arch your back for him, careful not to scape your insides with his nails. Your hips bucked into his face but his other arm held you down and prevented you from moving, “I~ please~ please~! Zevlor! I-“ You blushed, holding your swollen belly, “N-need you~”

Zevlor pulled away from you and you whined at the loss. He looked at you and licked his lips. His horns glistened from the sweat on your hands, his lips and chin shiny from your juices.

He crawled on top of you and kissed your forehead, then your nose, then finally, his lips met yours. You sighed into the kiss, tasting yourself on him, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth, your tongues dancing. His hand finding the swoll of your stomach where his child grows…

His child.

Zevlor still can’t get over it. The thought of it turns him on and he can feel his own cheek flush with embarrassment. He constantly thinks about how he filled you up so full of his cum it had gotten you pregnant, the sounds of you begging him to impregnate you still lingering. You were so beautiful like this, so plump and soft. He’d never admit it, but if he could, he’d put another child in you this second. 

“Fu~ S’so tigh-tight~~” you squirmed beneath him as he pushed into your sopping cunt. Despite bedding with him countless of times it was always such a stretch. Your toes curled and a long drawn out moan escaped your lips as your hole greedily took in his thick girth.

He let out a guttural groan as he felt your velvety walls envelop him. It had been a few days since the last time you two had sex and your insides hugged him so tightly, so nicely.

He slowly thrusted his hips, relishing in the wet heat of your cunt.

Dammon

"D-Dammon! I-I'm so sorry! I‘ll be a good girl, I swear!" Lying in the hay you struggle against the rope wrung around your wrists, but Dammon easily presses his foot over the both of your bound arms, forcing you to stay still. He kneels down beside you, his lip lower down to your ear, nose inhaling your scent as he talks down to you calmly and quietly, "Keep count.”

You take in a shaky breath before nodding in agreement, fingers balling up into tight fists as you brace yourself for impact. The first strike of his hand comes down hard, stinging the delicate flesh of your exposed bottom. A small yelp leaves your mouth and you instinctively move forward, “Ah~ O-One! Another strike and you cry out louder this time, tears welling up in your eyes, "fu’-Two!"

The next six strikes come in quickly, and by the end of it your tears and mascara paint your face, your lip tint smeared from burying your face against rough hay inside the barn… Your ass marked with his handprints, and Dammon finds himself running a fingertip over the sore flesh, smirking lightly to himself. "So desperate from my cock that you couldn't even control yourself in front of her, could you?"

"Y-Yes-!."

It was true, you always grew envious when Karlach was around, desperate to show her that Dammon belonged to you.

He pulls you up so that you're resting on your knees, your face now level with his crotch. Dammon’s calloused hand grips your jaw tight, forcing his thumb past your lips.

"Are you going to be good for me," he says darkly, and you can't help the whimper that rises when his coarse thumb and nail presses down on your tongue, saliva pooling. He takes his thumb from your mouth with a pop. His hand fishing his cock out of his slacks, "Go on, wrap those pretty lips of yours around me." and you open your mouth wide, tongue lolling out to lap at his cock.

Dammon's cock is impressive in size, thick and veiny with a bulbous head, and the sight of you kneeling before him, tied up, lips stained and eyes puffy from crying has him leaking pre cum.

Dammon's hand that had been gripping your jaw moved to grip a handful of your hair, his tail coiling around the base of your throat, choking you in a way that leaves you moaning around him.

The head of his cock hits the back of your throat, and you choke, eyes welling up with tears as you look up at Dammon who looks back down at you, smirking, "Can't have you forgetting that you’re the only one that belongs to me."

Dammon thrusts his hips forward, pushing his cock further down your throat, "This is mine." He struggles to keep his eyes open, heavy, breathy moans escaping him as you take more of his length, bobbing your head as you twist and slide your tongue around and under his cock, tracing every vein and ridge. 

Each time you take him deeper and farther you ignore the tight pressure on your throat. You're his to use right now, and despite the pain, you'll be his good little throat hole. His hips twitch a little, making your eyes water and throat tighten. Your breathing is heavy, the taste of him on your tongue the only thing you can focus on. Dammon’s tail squeezes your throat, and your moans vibrate around his cock and appendage.

He groans, voice heavy and strained, "So obedient when my cock stretches your throat.” 

It isn’t long until he begins fucking your mouth, pulling out and pushing back in deep, a loud groan escaping him when your nose bumps against his pelvis. The sounds of you choking and gasping for air has him lost in the moment. He can feel the way your throat bulges against his tail every time he thrusts forward.

You gag, saliva dripping down the corners of your mouth, tears and mascara running down your face. And yet you look so beautiful like this. You take everything he gives, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss as you feel your mind begin to cloud.

“Going to fill your stomach with my cum, make sure you never forget what we have, princess." His words come out in a strained growl, the pace of his thrusts growing erratic.

You whine around him and dig your nails into his thigh when he keeps fucking your face, your vision swaying and darkening. “Going t-to.” You can barely hear, trying to push him away by instinct. His hold on your neck and hair is too tight though, his hot cum shooting down your gullet and forcing you to swallow every drop.

Dammon releases you, watching you slump down on the ground while cum and drool leaks from the corners of your mouth, his tail wiping up some of the excess. He kneels down, pulling your limp form against him, holding you tightly against his chest as you take in large gulps of air.

"You are the only one for me, I promise." He swipes a stray hair from your face, “My one and only girl.”

You look up at him with a dazed expression, a smile on your lips as you rest your head on his shoulder. Dammon’s tail curling around you as he plants a soft kiss on the top of your head, a gentle purr emitting from his chest

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Biggest breeder, I say Bucky. He wants that housewife, white picket fence, a couple of kids, perfect suburban family kind of deal. Feels entitled to a happy ending such as that for all he's suffered.

Bucky is lost. He doesn't know what he wants. After Hydra, he doesn't think a normal life is possible. But then the wrong person walks up to him.

You're panicking. This creeps been following you for blocks. You saw this thing online about how to deter people like that. You don't even recognise the man with his metal fingers peeking out from his sleeve.

You coolly walk up to him as he stands at the hot dog cart, hating the noise of the city, and act like you know him.

"Oh hi! I'm sorry I'm late," you say, loudly and not very naturally. "You didn't order without me did you?"

He gives you a look. Confused. Your eyes are desperate. You speak so quietly, keeping your lips almost still, that you don't even know if he'll understand.

"Pretend you know me," you plead as much with your eyes as the wobble in your voice.

His eyes scan around instinctively. He sees the weirdo trying to act like he's interested in the news stand. His dodgy eyes and the way he seems to jitter in his boots.

He puts his hand across your back and ushers you closer to the hot dog cart, "make that two. Hey doll, what do you want on yours?"

[adrienneleclerc]

The “Affair”

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina Wife! Reader

Summary: After adopting 8 dogs, Charles tells his wife no more dogs. However, as a veterinarian working in an animal shelter, it’s very hard for Y/N to turn down a dog. So when she comes home with a puppy while Charles is away but tries to make it seem like she had an affair…getting a 9th dog doesn’t sound so bad, right?

Warning: the usual spelling and grammatical errors, probably a lot of inaccuracies

A/N: i love Salma Hayek and the story she tells about rescuing Ochoa is so funny.

When Charles and Y/N first started dating when they were 20, he knew how much she loved dogs. The first time he went to her apartment, he saw her with two German shepherds.

“Muñeco! Please meet Sirius and Nova.” Y/N said, walking up to Charles, the two dogs following her.

"When you told me you had dogs, I don’t know why, but I pictured you owning like a shih tzu or maybe a Maltese.” Charles admitted, observing the German shepherds who began sniffing him.

“Why? You think because I am Latina I must have a white crusty dog?” Y/N asked, acting all offended.

“No no no, of course not.” Charles responded scared that me might have offended his girlfriend.

“I’m teasing. No, I got them from the shelter. You know how I’m studying to become a vet? So right now I’m just a vet assistant at the shelter and when I walked in for my shift, these two dogs tried to get close to me, they would whine when I would leave the room, when I would take them outside for their walks, they would follow me, I had to adopt them. No one likes getting big dogs from the shelter, pero son tan lindos.” Y/N said, petting her dogs, the dogs were wagging their tails, enjoying the affection. Charles's heart melted. He always wanted his own dog and by the looks of it, he might get his wish with Y/N.

"How did you come up with the names?" Charles asked.

"Well obviously Sirius is named after Sirius Black from Harry Potter, and Nova to fit the space theme. Since they were picked up from the street without collars, we named them at the shelter." Y/N said. Charles leaned down to pet the dogs. Nova began licking his face while Sirius was still smelling him, you know what they say about a male dog being owned by a woman. After a few seconds, Sirius joined Nova in licking him, Charles was as happy as he can be.

"They are so friendly! Think I'll be able to stay the night?" Charles asked.

"I don't know, Char, you just joined F1, shouldn't you be training?" Y/N asked.

"I have a few days before the Monaco Grand Prix, do you want to come?" Charles asked.

"I don't know if I can leave Nova and Sirius alone." Y/N asked.

"It's only a few hours, please?" Charles asked with a pout and puppy dog eyes.

"Fine, I'll see if my neighbor can check in on them." Y/N said and her and Charles kissed.

A year later, 2019, Charles joined Scuderia Ferrari and he was on his way to Y/N's apartment after he rested a day after the Suzuka Grand prix. He opened the door with the key she gave him and he heard barking.

"Nova, Sirius, its me, you know me." Charles entered the apartment, the two German Shepherds greeted him but he still heard barking. Thats when he saw a bulldog on the couch with Y/N. "Amour, you got another dog?" Charles asked.

"Charlie! This is Hiccup, i got him on Saturday." Y/N said, getting to hug her boyfriend. "Isn't he adorable? He has a lot of health problems because of this breeder, but he is the sweetest. Come meet him." Y/N said, holding Charles's hand to lead him to the couch, sitting next to Hiccup.

"Why did you name him Hiccup?" Charles asked.

"I was watching How To Train Your Dragon, he also had a case of the hiccups when i was...como se dice, revisando...checking him! Yeah, during his checkup, he was hiccupping." Y/N said. Charles pet the bulldog and the bulldog smiled, seemingly happy getting affection.

"He is very cute, but I don't think you'll have space for another dog, mon petit chou." Charles said.

"Hiccup wanted to be with me, he wouldn't let the other shelter workers walk him, just me, it was a sign, Charles." Y/N said.

"I'm sure it was." Charles said smiling. "I'm hungry, do you want to order something?"

"Can you manage ordering Chinese food? I have to give the dogs their bath." Y/N said.

"Sure, mon ange. Same as usual?" Charles asked.

"Yes please. Lets go guys, time for your bath." Y/N said and the dogs walked slowly behind her, not being a fan of baths.

Another year later, December 2020, Charles and Y/N now live together in his penthouse apartment. One day, Charles went with Y/N to her job since he was on winter break.

"Charlie, can you check if Shaggy needs his bowl to be filled?" Y/N asked.

"Sure, amour." Charles said, He was walking through the shelter until he found the gate with the name 'Shaggy' and he saw a fluffy old English sheepdog. "Hello, Shaggy." Charles said hello to the dog and Shaggy started barking, wagging his tail. Charles went to the supply closet to get the bag of dog food, Y/n bought the brand that was specifically for this breed and pour the food in Shaggy's bowl.

"Shaggy looks very happy." Y/N said appearing next to him. Thats when Shaggy started whining and pawing at her through the gate. "Hi Shaggy, como está mi perrito consentido?" Y/N asked in the baby voice, Shaggy lies on his back, showing that he is ready to receive belly rubs. Charles just observes this interaction.

"Are you going to adopt him, mon ange?" Charles asked.

"I would love to adopt him, but it's your apartment." Y/N said.

"Mon ange, it is your apartment too, I asked you to move in with me, it is your apartment too. We can get him, think of it as a Christmas gift." Charles said and Y/N hugged him.

"Can you fill out the adoption papers? I need to check up on a few cats in the other room. Wish me luck." Y/N said.

"Did you take your allergy medicine?" Charles asked. Y/N shook her head no.

"Thats why i need luck." Y/N said. She went with the cats while Charles filled out the adoption papers for Shaggy, since most people in Monaco want small dogs and the other shelter workers know Charles is doing this for Y/N, the process was easy and they were able to take Shaggy home the same day. When they left Shaggy went with Y/N to buy things he needs while Charles went to buy food for the both of them. Charles got home first and he said hello to Nova, Sirius, and Hiccup, place his takeout on the kitchen counter, and refilled their food and water bowls. Charles washed his hands to serve himself good and that’s when Charles heard the door open and he saw Y/N with dog food, a dog bed, and some new toys.

“Mom Ange, I could have helped you.” Charles said, getting the bed from her and placing it on the living room. “Why does he need new toys?”

“It’s why I do for every dog, Charlie, they get new toys, they only share when they want to, it makes them feel important and that they have a permanent home.” Y/N explained to Charles. “Okay Shaggy, meet your brothers and sister.” Y/N let Shaggy off his leash and all the dogs began sniffing each other. After they got acquainted, they started playing with each other, even sharing some toys.

“Come on, mon coeur, your food will get cold, it’s time to eat.” Charles said and Y/N went to wash her hands after seeing the dogs are getting along great. She sat down to eat.

“Muñeco, do you ever think about getting a bigger place?” Y/N asked.

“Eventually, yes. That way we can raise our future children.” Charles said.

2 years later, 2022, Charles and Y/N now have a huge villa on Monaco after they got married with enough room for their dogs to run around in the grass and a pool. In those 2 years, Y/N adopted 3 more dogs; a border collie, a Carin terrier mix, and an Australian shepherd. Charles was watching TV with their 7 dogs when the door opened and it revealed Y/N with a Euraiser dog, Charles stared at her and Y/N smiled.

“His name is Koda, his owner just abandoned him like straight up went to the shelter and dropped him off, no good reason, no toys for him specifically, nothing. Me dio cosa, Charlie, like you have no idea." Y/N said and since her eyes were tearing up, he got up to hug her.

“My love, I know you love dogs, and I love that about you, you have a big heart, but no more dogs.” Charles said, wiping her tears. Kids barked and Charles looked at him, Koda had his tongue out like he was smiling with his tail wagging. “Nice to meet you Koda, welcome to the family, meet your brothers and sisters.” Charles said. Koda ran to the other dogs. “Don’t be fooled by the size, Mickey is in charge.”

Koda was very happy with his new family. He was playing with Bailey and Bambi very politely using toys but full on wrestling with Sirius, he was very content. Mickey and Hiccup were just observing on their dog beds while Nova chewed on a treat.

“Promise me no more dogs, Y/N.” Charles said, cupping her face.

“I promise no more dogs, muñeco.” Y/N said.

And Y/N kept good on her promise, she was completely devoted to their 8 dogs, taking them to work sometimes for checkups, and it was all going well until.

Present day, 2024, Y/N was checking a Saint Bernard as a full fledged Shelter Veterinarian.

“Rebecca, where did you get the Saint Bernard? It has worms and I’m afraid he was in the same transport van as the pitbull mixes, I need to check them too.” Y/N said, lowering the Saint Bernard and giving him an oral medication to deworm him.

“He was around Nice.” Rebecca answered.

“Interesting. Have the pitbulls been showing symptoms of having worms?” Y/N asked.

“They are relatively chill, I’ll check them right now though.” Rebecca said. Moments later, another employee named Freddie came in with a dog crate.

“You guys won’t believe what I just found by the docks.” Freddie said.

“Why were you by the docks?” Rebecca asked.

“No reason, but look at this.” Freddie entered the vet exams room with Rebecca and Y/N and opened the crate.

“Oh my god, that’s a pregnant yorkie, who would throw a pregnant dog on the streets?” Y/N asked, petting the yorkie. “Looks like she has fleas too.”

“I’ll take care of her, your shift is over. I’ll give you updates on the yorkie.” Rebecca said.

“Thanks, I’ll come in tomorrow.” Y/N said, she said goodbye to her coworkers and drove home.

When she got home, she saw all her dogs playing in the yard but as soon and they saw her, they stopped playing and ran towards her.

“Hola mis bebés!” Y/N exclaimed, petting every single dog. She got their leashes to take all of them out for a walk so they're not cooped up in one area, no matter how big it is. They walked around Monaco, some children wanted to pet the dogs, other people took photos or videos of Y/N walking the dogs, the dogs were very well behaved and nonreactive, Y/N couldn't be more grateful. She walked back home, let the dogs off their leash, and washed their paws before they stepped foot inside the house.

Charles was away for the Imola Grand Prix and he said he was going to call Y/N when she got out of work. Just like he said, Y/N's laptop started ringing, she washed her hands and answere the video call.

"Hola guapo! How's Imola?" Y/N asked.

"It's good, I'm tired of press, you know? Sometimes they ask the same questions and I can't deal with it." Charles said.

"I'm sorry, mi vida." Y/N said.

"It's fine, darling. How are the babies?" Charles asked.

"Very good, I went to that bakery where they make pastries for dogs and they loved it. I'm going to look up recipes so I can bake it for them. My babies deserve the best." Y/N said and Bambi jumped in her lap. "yes Bambi, you're my baby." Y/N saod, petting the Australian shepherd. "As a kid i always wanted one, their coloring is beautiful, and now i have one. I know we can't bring all the dogs to the Monaco Paddock, but do you think we can take Mickey?" Y/N asked.

"What happened to treating the dogs equally?" Charles asked.

"Then can we bring all of them? I want them to know where their dad works. I also really want them to meet Roscoe, we can just hang around, I'll keep them entertained, also who wouldnt want to see dogs before practice or qualifying? Like come on." Y/N said.

"Y/N.." Charles warned.

"Okay fine, our children won't see where you work, but it is unfair, they're going to be all alone in the house." Y/N said.

"Yeah, with a dog sitter who will feed and play with them, walk them, and the dogs have the entire property to run around. I bought the villas so you wouldn't have to worry about the dogs as much and you worry about the same." Charles said,

"I can't help it, they're innocent creatures." Y/N said, hugging Bambi tightly and Bambi liked her face. "Look at her Charles, no thoughts behind those eyes."

"Alright my dear, I have to go, I love you." Charles said.

"I love you too." Y/N said and hung up her FaceTime and thats when she got a call from Rebecca. "Hey Rebecca, whats up?"

"Hey, so the mama yorkie is about 8 weeks along in her pregnancy, she seems healthy, but I am going to give her a diet for pregnant dogs, make sure shes getting a lot of protein and calcium for the last week of her pregnancy to make sure the birth goes smoothly." Rebecca said.

"Thanks for everything, you are the best." Y/N said and hung up. She made her dinner, making a small dog safe version for them of course, what kind of owner would she be if she didn't?

A week later, it was the Monaco free practice 3 and qualifying session, she was in the paddock with Charles since he just finished the free practice.

"You did great, guapo, I'm positive you'll make pole." Y/N said, kissing him.

"Thanks, mon ange, I just really want to win my home race and i'll have a better shot of winning if i make pole." Charles said.

"And you will, baby." Y/N said. She felt her phone vibrate and saw Freddie was calling. "Freddie, what's going on?"

"The mom is going into labor, we need you here, please! I'm still just an assistant!" Freddie panicked.

"Alright I'm coming, did she start nesting in her kennel?" Y/N asked.

"She's arranging chew toys and blankets." Freddie said.

"Okay, try your best to get her into the whelping box, I'm on my way now." Y/N hung up. "I'm sorry, mi vida, I need to deliver puppies, good luck on qualifying." Y/N kissed him goodbye and ran to her car, drove off to the shelter, and went to Nani's kennel, where she was in stage 1 of labor. "How long has she been like this?"

"About 2 hours." Rebecca answered.

"Alright, we just have to wait a little while, she should start dilating in about 4 or 10 10 hours." Y/N said.

They waited those hours and Nani succesfully whelped 4 puppies, 3 boys and one girl. Y/N helped getting the puppies out of the amniotic saca and cut the umblical cord to make the processs easier for Nani. She cleaned and rubbed the puppies until she heard them cry out, once they cried, she put them near Nani. Now Nani was feeding the puppies.

"Alright team, in 8 weeks those puppies could be adopted. Hopefull the mom will be adopted as well. Goodnight, I'm going home." Y/N said goodbye to her coworkers and drove home.

Once home, Y/N saw Charles in the living room watching 101 Dalmations.

"Ma belle, how did the delivery go?" Charles asked, pausing the movie.

"The mom delivered 4 healthy puppies, I couldn't be happier. How was qualifying?" Y/N asked.

"I got pole." Charles said. Y/N screamed in excitement and hugged him.

"i am so proud of you, we should get ice cream or go out to eat, I am starving, i didn't eat." Y/N said.

"Then lets go out, ma belle, I'll go call to see if they can prepare something so it'll be ready when we get there, I'll wait for you to change." Charles said and Y/N kissed him.

"You are the best husband ever." Y/N said.

8 weeks went by and in those 8 weeks, Y/N grew extremely close to Bubbles, the female puppy from Nani's litter. Right now, she was carrying Bubbles, comforting her after her first vaccine.

"Rebecca, he is going to kill me." Y/N said.

"What makes you say that?" Rebecca asked.

"He literally told me that I couldn't get anymore dogs. What do you think he is going to say when he comes home from Hungary and sees her on my lap?" Y/N said, holding Bubble in front of Rebecca's face. Bubbles licked Rebecca's nose.

"Aww come on, who would be mad at a little yorkie?" Rebecca cooed. "Its not like you're bringing home a Saint Bernard, or a Rottweiler."

"Rottweilers are so cute, I would absolutely bring one home if i could." Y/N said.

"You just have to make it seem like getting a puppy isn't the worst thing in the world." Rebecca said, giving the other puppies Chip, Mikey, and Donnie, their first vaccines. Y/N started thinking.

"I got it! I'll make him believe i am having an affair." Y/N said.

"Y/N, that's a little crazy even for you." Rebecca said.

"But it's perfect! I just need to set it up perfectly. Today is Friday, right?" Y/N asked.

"Yeah, why?" Rebecca asked.

"I am not cruel enough to make him worry during the important race events like qualifying or the actual race, during free practice should be fine." Y/N said before she sent the text 'Call me tonight at 8, we need to talk' and she showed it to Rebecca.

"Good luck with that." Rebecca said. Y/N filled out the adoption papers for Bubbles and bought everything a puppy needed, she carried Bubble everywhere because until she has all her Parvo vaccines, she is not touching the ground. Bubbles was wrapped in a blanket and was brought home. When she entered the house, all the dogs came up to her.

"Hello everyone, we have a new member joining the family, her name is Bubbles, everyone, be gentle." Y/N said, emphasizing gentle. She lowered Bubbles a little so everyone had the chance to sniff her. They all went their separate ways. Y/N got a text from Charles. 'What do we need to talk about?' Y/N responded 'It is crucial to our marriage that we talk.' She wants to worry him a little. Y/N had already established and good feeding schedule with her, she just needs to adjust her potty spot. When she checked that this is the time she usually does her business in the shelter, she took her outside and let her pee on the patch of grass thats near the pool. When she was done, Bubbles trotted right to Y/N and Y/N picked her up, giving her little kisses. Thats when she heard her laptop ring.

"It's show time." Y/N said, placing Bubbles on the couch with her blanket. "Watch her." Y/N told Nova and Nova moved to the couch, keeping her eyes on the puppy. Y/N answered the FaceTime.

“Petit Chou, what’s wrong? What do we need to talk about? Can’t it wait until I’m home?” Charles asked.

“No no, I have to tell you know, the guilt is eating me alive.” Y/N said, getting teary eyed, if she wants Charles to believe she had an affair, she really has to sell it.

“Mon coeur, you can tell me anything, what happened?” Charles asked, sounding very worried.

“This isn’t easy for me to say, I love you so much, you have to know that, but my job has me very stressed, I feel like I don't have a life outside of work because you are always traveling and I work late sometimes, we are like two passing ships. Please, have mercy on me, understand where I am coming from, I get so lonely when you're not here.” Y/N finished saying and she covered her face, just waiting to hear Charles’s reaction.

“Please don’t tell me you got another dog.” Charles said and Y/N uncovered her face.

“How did you know I adopted another dog?” Y/N asked.

“My love, I know you, you would never cheat on me.” Charles said.

“I could have.” Y/N argued.

“You love me too much.” Charles argued back.

“You didn’t believe me?” Y/N asked.

“Not at all.” Charles said.

“Oh come on, that was phenomenal acting, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/N said.

“I think you overdid it.” Charles said.

“Well i acted better than you did for that Shell commercial.” Y/N said.

“Forget about it, can i see the dog? Did you get a big one?” Charles said. Y/N moved off screen to pick up the yorkie.

“Actually she’s a little puppy, I named her Bubbles, apparently this awful person put her dog out on the street because she was pregnant so the mama yorkie was actually with us for a while, i supervised the birth, i was bonding with the mom and her litter, but i guess this one really liked me and she would seek me out. Isn’t she adorable?” Y/N said, putting Bubbles closer to the screen so Charles can see her in all her glory.

“She is adorable, can’t wait to meet her.” Charles said,

“Im so excited for you to meet her too! This is the first time we can raise a puppy together, i can take her with me to work for her vaccines, we need a lot of bonding time with her. I honesty hope the other yorkies get adopted though, they’re so cute! I would adopt them all if I could.” Y/N confessed.

“I know you would. Please let Bubble be the final dog, I really mean it this time, Y/N." Charles said.

"Okay, okay, i promised Bubbles will be our last dog...for now." Y/N said.

"Y/N!" Charles shouted.

"Okay okay, te lo juro juradito por las haditas that Bubbles will be our last dog." Y/N said.

"That's more like it." Charles said.

"So how was free parctice?" Y/N asked Charles, placing Bubbles on her lap, giving her a small chew toy since she's teething.

"Well what happened was..." Charles said.

The End

Hope y'all liked it! I know the buildup was VERY long but i wanted to show you how much Y/N loved dogs.

[topowl]

The hand around your cock strokes up and down mercilessly, bringing you to the brink and slowing down just as you're about to spill over.

“Good boys don't cum, puppy. You're a good boy, aren't you?” They coo into your ear, their chest pressed against your back while you're on your hands and knees.

This process has been repeated so many times, all you can do is whimper and moan as you fail to find words.

“Mm, I love those sounds. Turn your brain off, pet. Leak all your thoughts out along with all this pre,” they say, bringing you to the edge yet again, your dick throbbing in their hand.

They smile, giving you slow, almost teasing strokes. “You know it's not fair if you have all the pleasure. after all, this is MY toy” they say, squeezing your cock.

“my turn.” they fall onto their back, spreading their legs to reveal their dripping hole.

You whimper at the sight, cock throbbing painfully against the sheets.

“mouth first, and if you do a good job, I might let you fuck me. Sound good, pet?” before they can finish you're on them, tongue lapping at their cunt. They lean back, a hand in your hair as they push you into them, grinding on your mouth. Your lips wrap around their cock as you begin to lick and suck eagerly.

Your eager sucking and licking leads them to a very fast first orgasm. They pant as they cum but your tongue doesn't stop as it continues its assault on their now sensitive hole. They moan loudly as yet another orgasm washes over them, their thighs wrapping around your head pushing your tongue deeper Inside them.

They pant, pushing you back slightly as they unwrap their legs. “that's a good boy, very good boy,” they say breathlessly. They grab your face, pulling you towards them for a kiss, tasting themselves on your lips and tongue as your cock throbs against their stomach, your hips slowly thrusting against their skin.

“That was two, baby, I'm going to need you to fuck me through at least three more, can you do that?”

You nod eagerly as you cant your hips to line your tip up with the entrance to their cunt.

“You can't cum until you do,” they whisper as you sink into them with a whiny moan. You whimper, trying to find the words to protest, but nothing comes out but whines as you roll your hips subconsciously.

They moan, the sound driving you to start to grind down deeper against them.

“Come on pup, fuck me,” they plead, shattering what little remained of your psyche. You begin to thrust into them with reckless need and speed, your balls slapping against them producing a wet thwack with every thrust home. They moan, wrapping their arms around your back and legs around your waist, pulling you closer to them.

Their breath hitches as they start to shake. “Don't you dare cum, puppy” they moan staccato as they cum around your cock, their cunt attempting to milk you dry as you whimper and squirm.

You refuse to cum.

Good boys don't cum.

Good puppies don't cum.

You pant, your mouth open, desperately resisting their cunt’s attempt to make you spill.

“good boy. two more,” they moan breathlessly, their orgasm slowly coming down. You whimper, panting, still buried inside of them. They reach down and cup your balls, making you moan.

“nice and full. These are for breeding, pet. This big dick and heavy balls of yours belong on a stud breeder, but here they are on you. Pathetically hard, denied and begging for more.” you whimper as you cock twitches inside them.

They smile. “see what I mean, pet? You should be breeding me, but here you are, a whimpering mess. and I know you won't cum, good boys don't cum, right?”

You whine softly, still unable to form words, feeling hot and aroused by their words.

“Now get to it. two more,” they demand, it almost magically forcing your hips to move again. Your pace snappy and erratic as you fuck with mindless instinct.

They moan, wrapping their arms around you once more, pulling you into a one sided kiss as you can't quite figure out how to do anything more than moan.

Their second orgasm comes faster than the first, their oversensitive cunt bringing more pleasure than before.

“last one,” they say, moving to get onto their hands and knees pulling you a top to mount them.

They reach back, grabbing your balls once again giving them a squeeze.” one more then I'll let you empty these.” You moan, thrusting against the air, more than ready.

They let go, backing their hips toward you until their hole presses against your cock. You tilt your hips, your tip splitting their lips and briefly rubbing against their dick, making them shudder as you finally press forward, sinking inside them.

You moan along with them as you lay your chest on their back. you wrap your arms around their chest as you begin to slowly fuck into them. The pace is slow as you both breathe from the exertion of the night. It's sloppy and erratic but slow and forceful, each thrust sinking in as deep as possible.

Soon their breathing starts to hitch as they start to shake. You begin to up your pace, eager to send them over the edge once more and join them in bliss. You start to pant as your cock throbs inside of them as they begin to cum. Their cunt tightening around you, milking your cock as you continue to thrust.

“don't you dare cum, puppy.”

Their words hit like magic, stopping the budding orgasm in its tracks as your hips still buried inside them.

They shudder and shake beneath you as you desperately resist spilling inside them.

Good boys don't cum

Good puppies don't cum

Good boys don't cum

They pant, slipping you out from inside them as they roll onto their back beneath you. Your cock throbbing and twitching in the air.

“Such a good boy for me,” they praise, pulling you into a kiss. I promised you an orgasm, I never promised it'd be inside me,” they answer your silent question.

You whimper, rolling your hips desperately as their hand wraps around your cock, soaked in their slick and cum. Their hand begins to move and you desperately buck onto the contact.

“Be still, puppy,” they whisper gently as they slide their finger over the tip, making you moan loudly.

“You know you have an amazing member, pet, on anyone else this would be a stud of a cock and these balls were made for breeding tight holes. But here they are on you my brainless little pup, used against you,” they say, cupping and squeezing your balls, making you moan and them giggle.

“And now, you're going to cum for me, not breeding some tight hole, but all over my fingers. Wasted.” The pace of their hand picks up, bringing you to the brink.

“Now cum.”

the command washes over you and with force your cum pours out in a torrent, coating their fingers. They form a ring with their fingers, slowly stroking from base to tip to milk out every single drop. While you moan and shake, whimpering in shame as your seed spills onto the bed.

You collapse atop them as they whisper: “You're such a good boy” as they pet your head, spent, empty, and ruined.

Just the way They like you.

[firewalkzwit]

chemical world || simon / john q. x reader (dinner in america)

just a blurb because im up the ass with school and the one-shot i wrote was rubbish sorry. "x reader" might be a stretch its just hqs and stuff i think of simon with song sneaks in the middle coz when do i not

Chemical World - Blur

Simon of extreme hedonistic beliefs above all prioritises nothing other than pleasure, and takes pride in the aesthetic disruption this signifies. Having a shower around won't be enough to pinch his personal hygiene urges, even if it is for the sake of others. He'll bathe if he can and if he wants to.

This obviously extends to his deliberately controversial haircut. It amuses him to watch the discomfort and confusion it creates in those who see him. It's neither a mullet nor a mohawk (matter of fact, he despises either of the groups who wear such hairstyles), but rather his own third thing.

Obviously he's slightly taken aback when you fancy him for it. Not that it has ever prevented him from getting laid (he would have eventually buzzed it if it did), but the occasional compliments and caresses on his greasy hair from your tender hands never fail to remind him that he too is just a mere mortal beneath things like female affection.

Saints - The Breeders

He praises womanhood just as much as he teases it. There is an adolescent air in the way he speaks derogatorily about your mother, or even when he gets turned on out of insulting you in bed. Still, slurs that come and go only wind up humiliating him when he kneels before you, eyes wide open and hungry.

He's very versatile in that department, he'll take any place in bed as long you ask. Nothing is more arousing than your gratitude. He won't be picky about how you express it, but he has favourites; the scratching of nails in a useless attempt of grabbing the wall makes him feel like he really did his job well.

I Am the Resurrection - The Stone Roses

Not having to be functional to work timings or tedious 9 to 5-s allows Simon to have an ample disposition to, what he calls, "fuck around" any day, anytime. Although he resents the fact that you occasionally choose your adult responsibilities above him, he'll hardly hold you to it for too long. Instead, decompression is highly recreational and experimental. A wide range of psychedelics, psychotropics, psycholeptics... all to be found in some dubious corner of his backpack.

Frankly, open-mindedness is one of the few must-have traits to date him. He wont tolerate uptight or rigorous personalities. This does not imply that it was ever a requirement for you to be an avid drug consumer, but he'll take no reprimands if he chooses to pop a Percocet.

Simon's open-mindedness policy is fairly restricted when it comes to music. Not that he only listens to one genre, as his enthusiasm for punk has inevitably derived in enjoying all of those that influenced or derivate from it, but he believes most are acquired tastes. Sonic Youth, Dinosaur Jr., Melvins and Fugazi sit around in his record collection.

He loves it when you ask about his records, and far from judging you if you ever don't know, he'll sit down on the floor with his back rested against the bed and his records in hand. Encyclopedic narrations of the socio-cultural context of the origin of most of his favourite bands could be biography-worth if it weren't for all the "fuck"s between them.

"Fuckin' Christ, Pink Flag? That fuckin' invented post-punk. Would I care for that shit if it didn't? Probably not, but because of fuckin' Wire now I have to give a fuck about these snobby fucks from Bauhaus and the idiots in PiL."

Strange - Galaxie 500

The record player in your room is mostly crowded around by his own collection, which was homeless up until recently. There's many things Simon likes about you, but taking in his records was to him what to others is a ring on their finger.

In a relationship with someone who thinks music is sacred, you cannot miss his gigs, they are mass. He loves to parade you around backstage to his bandmates and sing to you when they play, loves that you take your friends with you; so they can see you seeing him. Nothing makes him feel more desired than spotting you in the crowd mouthing his lyrics.

Post-shows getting wrecked in a local bar until they kick you out is his favourite thing to do, but he'll take backseat sex if he sees you're in the mood for it, subtly letting everyone know as he guides you holding you by the wrist. On colder seasons, the night dew will curtain the windows of the pick-up truck he borrows just in hopes that you'll give him the special look, inviting him for a quickie before heading home letting you pick the radio station.

Just Like Honey - The Jesus and Mary Chain

[poppy-metal]

need to ride patrick’s fat cock and tease him so much that he loses his shit. like, you’ve been slowly grinding on him for hours and he’s at his limit. he decides that enough is enough, he needs his pussy now. So he grabs your hips above him, holds them steady, plants his feet and goes to fucking town. You practically fall over from the intensity of it.

He grabs your wrists, holding your arms hostage behind your back and goes completely feral. all you feel are your tits bouncing against his chest and his cock piledriving in and out of your sopping pussy. the sound of his balls smacking against you with each thrust drives you both crazy. he loves how practically helpless you are above him, this is his revenge for all your teasing. he watches your eyes roll back into your head and makes the decision to give his pussy a nice thick load of his cum. she deserves to be fed :)

hhuhhuhhhhhhhghghg

god big fat breeder balls beating your pussy up from below. holding your hands hostage. hic', sniff'. "yeah - you'd rather daddy do all the work - lay there while I drill this sloppy fucking hole -" and well, he's right. it's his fault for being so big and thick and strong and using you like a ragdoll.

he just hits that gooey spot inside you so fucking better when he's in control. you could spend hours bouncing on his lap and never find the right tempo, but the second he yanks you against his chest and you fall against him. limp - you can't even latch onto his chest, his throat, to suck on his skin - your mouth just open and whimpers spilling out as you're used -

it's a juxtaposition, though. the way he cradles your head to his shoulder like you're something precious - while he holds your wrists captive with his other hand and fucking pummels his hard cock into you. so, so, so, fucking good.

"m'gonna cum." his lips pressing against your sweat slick temple, "this fucking pussies gonna make me cum -" and you don't want anything else. just wanna be a hole he fills up. your cunt clenching and fluttering around his length to stimulate is, encourage his cum inside, milking him for all hes worth. please. please, please, please.

you don't realize you're saying it out loud until you feel his fingers against your scalp, sliding and gripping you even closer still - "I got you, baby. c'mere." you don't know how he can pull you closer but he does, somehow. sliding you even more up his chest until your face to face and then he's kissing you - and you feel like, yes, this is what you needed. even if you can't really kiss back as much as you want to. your mouth lax against his as he licks inside.

"you want it inside?" a stupid question but you love it everytime he asks. love replying and showing how eager you are for it. you nod eagerly, feeling his fingers in your hair slide with the movement - you want it so bad, so fucking bad - "m'gonna give it t'you." he groans - pulls your lip between his teeth. the slapping of his balls against your cunt is downright vulgar. fucking sloppy and slick - you feel his cock twitching inside you- knows he's so close- he's so close to filling you up - spilling that thick fucking load inside -

"fuck - fuck - oh, you fucking take it - fuckin' milk my balls just like that - shit - baby, yes -"

your bodies are slick and hot - sliding and melding together as he fills you to the brim with his cum. it splashes inside you hot and sticky - your hole squeezing around him - milking every drop possible from his sack - his thighs fucking tremble from the intensity of his orgasm - moaning brokenly against your mouth.

you love this part best, you think. you love all of sex with patrick zweig, but this part. the comedown. when your bodies are drenched with sweat and you're pressed impossibly close, close enough to feel like one person. and he's just cum inside, and he's still thrusting - slow sensual rolls of his cock sliding in and out of your tender cunt, his cum rolling down from your filled pussy - you just love it. he's so beautiful too, in the afterglow. his blissed out face - completely vulnerable with no walls around his heart - nothing in the way. face flushed - freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. dark hair sex mussed and wild. his eyes lazy with ecstasy.

he lets go of your wrists, you know they'll be a little sore tomorrow, but you'll love the reminder, honestly - he cups the sides of your head, carding both hands through your hair. looks up at you - "too fucking pretty," he murmurs. pulls you down for another kiss.

hes still inside you, and honestly, you don't think you want him to pull out. not for awhile.

[wolverineluvr]

Yandere Giant Gojo

TW: Yandere, stalking, Gojo is a creep, the reader gets pregnant and has a kid, underwear sniffing, Gojo has breeder balls cus I said so, brief noncon mention, brief mention of jacking off, kidnapping.

Giant Gojo who saw a cute little human and was immediately drawn to them. How could he not be? You're so adorable and tiny!

Giant Gojo who started to visit you whenever he could, at first you were scared of him, of course you were. He's well, a giant. At least 60+ feet tall.

Giant Gojo who you slowly warmed up to, despite being a giant, he just seemed like a human. He's actually pretty gentle with you too.

Giant Gojo who, whenever you didn't have enough food, would always visit with something you could eat, whether it be a deer, a bear, or just some bread he stole from another human.

Giant Gojo who always stared at you with the most loving and admiring look. He couldn't help it, you're so perfect.

Giant Gojo whose little crush quickly soured into an unhealthy obsession. He can't do anything anymore, all he wants to do is be with you, all he thinks about is you.

Yandere Giant Gojo who starts to watch you sleep through the window in your bedroom, he wishes so badly that he was small so he could be with you, or watch you more stealthily.

Yandere Giant Gojo who finds and forces a mage who gives him pills to be human, and a love potion.

Yandere Giant Gojo who doesn't use the potion on you, believing that you'll fall in love with him on your own.

Yandere Giant Gojo who watches you through your window or under your bed, watching you change regularly and stealing your underwear to sniff and or use to jack off.

Yandere Giant Gojo who soon develops a breeding kink, realizing how much seed he releases when he orgasms. He's sure it'll also help you love him if you realize how easily he can get you to have kids.

Yandere Giant Gojo who surprises you by showing you that he can be human, like you. "We can start planning the wedding now, m'kay?"

Yandere Giant Gojo who is surprised and sad when you say no, and when he finds out that you don't like him romantically.

Yandere Giant Gojo who forces you down as he undresses you, you'll love him after he gives you kids right?

Yandere Giant Gojo who, in the end, takes you back to his massive house.

Yandere Giant Gojo who keeps you locked up, even when you're pregnant. He visits you a lot in the tiny house he made you, when he's not well, a giant.

Yandere Giant Gojo who wasn't really sure what to do when you give birth, and took you back to your village to have the other humans help you, despite his unwavering want to keep you to himself.

Yandere Giant Gojo who, at times, holds his and your child above your head, threatening them so you do, or don't do, something.

Yandere Giant Gojo who decides he's glad he saw you that fateful little day, now you're his little human.

Notes: might make this a series if ever wanted(js know I'm very slow w that stuff) but idk it was js a lil idea I had :3

[stanpinesdykewife]

How do you feel about breeding kink ? Kinda a request for Stan/reader haha

HELLO thanks for sending this in! so i've never been a big breeder (breeding kink enjoyer) but you and several others are really into it so i finally gave it a shot!!! enjoy! and check out my friend's breeding kink fic at the bottom if you're into this :) under the cut:

knock knock stan/reader (fem!reader) (unless you're me and can ignore the gender implications of "mommy") pre/during/post-canon/unspecified smut, 1954 words (bonus: fic rec at the bottom)

It starts out like the normal, mostly-vanilla sex you usually have with Stan.

You two go out, get tipsy, come home, and make it through approximately half an episode of your joint show before slipping into a sloppy makeout. It's not exactly routine, but it's expected, and it's a hit for a reason. Sex with Stan is good, full stop. Which is why you’re always surprised when something new comes along that makes it even better.

“Hngh—Fuck,” you choke out, your voice catching behind your teeth as Stan sinks into you. You're on your back, staring with bleary eyes at the sight of Stan's flushed face above you. He's sitting on his heels with your ankles on his shoulders, his hands holding firmly at your plush hips as he grinds into you. “Fuck. God, please.”

“Told you you'd have to beg for it this time, didn't I?” Stan chuckles, stroking over your soft skin with his thumbs. He sounds gentle, but he's grinding into you hard, enough that each forward roll of his hips has your whole body rocking with it. He'd been fucking you so hard earlier, so good, but he does this thing sometimes—he stops altogether to get you talking. He loves when you talk to him. “Go on, then, sweetheart. You want it, right?”

“Y-Yeah,” you say, stuttering at another press of his dick into you. You gasp when he pulls back, drawing out only halfway before grinding in again. Your voice is wobbly when you say, “Yes, yeah. I want it, please fuck me, oh, fuck—I wanna come. Wanna make you come in me.”

You know, even through the haze in your mind and the growing blush on Stan's face, that that's a normal thing for you to say. It never gets old, and it's never untrue. Asking Stan to come in you always feels really fucking good. You're having a really good night.

“I know, baby. You want me to fill you up,” Stan says, full-on smiling down at you. His eyes are warm and a little unfocused as he draws out again, then pushes in, keeping that same romantic rhythm he's had since slowing down. His voice is low, almost drowsy, when he adds, “You want it to stay there, too? Want it to take?”

“Wh—Huh?” you ask, your mind a little preoccupied to register all the words coming out of his mouth. You're a little too busy staring at him, at his dark eyes, his crooked grin, then lower, to the hair on his chest leading down to his belly. Stan huffs out a good-natured laugh at your obvious spacing out.

“You always ask me to come inside.” When your gaze finally wanders back up to his, he's already staring at you. Stan chuckles again and adjusts his grip on your body, unintentionally hiking your hips up a little. He clarifies, “It's almost like you want me to knock you up.”

Your jaw drops open at that. A new wave of heat curls in your abdomen, making your fingers twitch, and your legs suddenly tense. Stan was half-joking, you know he was, but it's too late to pitch him a laugh and play into it. His brows raise, and you can practically see the gears turn in his head when you blink at him in mild shock.

Then the light bulb clicks on, and Stan's expression brightens in the way it always does when he learns something new about your body. Despite yourself, you smile, too, a flustered giggle bouncing from your throat when you realize he's about to pounce.

“W-Wait, I didn't—” You have no clue what excuse you were going to give to clear your name of a kink you didn't even know you had, but Stan interrupts you so you don't have to find out. You squeal when he suddenly grabs you by the thighs and adjusts your body, manhandling you into a new position. “Stan—!”

“You like that, huh,” he snickers, not unkind, as he shuffles himself up onto his knees without pulling out. One of your legs almost falls off his shoulders, but Stan quickly corrects it before snatching a pillow from your left and shoving it under your hips. He leans forward slightly, asking you again, “You want me to knock you up?”

Before you can answer, Stan gives you the first proper thrust he's given you in a while. Your back arches as you moan, your hips automatically rocking up into his as he starts a steady pace. Your hands grip the sheets, and you try to stave off the mild embarrassment in your chest. You try to welcome the excitement instead, growing warm in your stomach, making you tremble.

“That's right, honey. Feels good, don't it? Gonna put a baby in you.” The humor in Stan's voice fades slowly, overtaken by his little grunts as he fucks into you. You moan at one particular angle, Stan's dick pressing perfectly up against that spot in your pussy that makes your legs shake, and Stan chases it. He leans forward, over you, making your voice pitch higher and higher. He groans, “Fuck, so wet. You're all nice and warm for me, sugar. Perfect for my spunk.”

“Ugh, don't—ah—call it that,” you huff out, voice cracking in the middle as Stan picks up speed.

“Whaddya want me to call it?” he laughs. “My come? My kids?”

“Fuck,” you moan, like the breath's been punched out of you. Stan's hips stutter, and something in the air shifts. He groans, leans forward more, and soon your body is bent deeply at the waist with your legs hooked over his shoulders, your knees close to your chest. You don't know what this position is called. A breeding press? A mating press? The specifics are lost on you as you open your eyes, blinking up at Stan's handsome, flushed face.

He’s breathing deeply above you, his hot breath mingling with yours as he plants his hands on either side of you. Stan’s been teasing you all this time, but all of a sudden it doesn't feel so lighthearted anymore. Stan pauses when you meet his eyes. Shifts his weight on his knees.

“C-Can…” You swallow around the words. You're fucking salivating. You look at Stan shyly, through your lashes, and find the courage to ask, “Can you please put your kids in me?”

“Holy Moses,” Stan says, and then he's kissing you, all sloppy and heated and so fucking turned-on. You moan into his mouth when he starts pumping into you again, fucking his hips down into yours, and this angle is so fucking good you can't believe you've never tried it with him before, holy fuck. Stan is so deep inside you, pistoning his hips so hard he's fucking you right into the mattress with each thrust.

“Ah, ah, fuck, yes—” you gasp, breaking the kiss. Stan groans against your open mouth before pulling away, his eyes screwed shut as he presses his forehead to yours.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he grunts, shifting so his forearms are caging your head, holding up his weight. “Gonna fucking fill you up, gonna make you have my fucking kids—Fuck, I'm already close.”

“Yes, yes, please,” you whine, voice strained as you reach up to grab hold of something, anything, to keep you grounded. You feel like you're floating, so warm and dizzy at the thought of Stan filling you to the brim, and your hands somehow find their way up into Stan's hair. He groans again when you tug, and gives you a particularly rough thrust that makes you gasp. “Ah, shit—! Yes, I want it, want you to come in me, fill me up—”

“Yeah, just take my fucking load, baby, just take it,” he breathes, somehow much more intelligible than you are even as his hips start fucking into you unevenly, losing their rhythm. But Stan's thrusts get harder, his dick reaching deeper into your ready cunt, so deep you swear you can feel his precome leaking into your cervix, or maybe the thought of it is just so good that you're making shit up. But you snap back to reality at Stan mutters, his voice gruff, “Gonna come so deep in you, sweetheart—Hah, fuck, that's—Gonna make you a fuckin' mommy.”

You're coming, an intense orgasm rolling through you and forcing one loud, drawn-out moan from deep in your throat as Stan fucks into you with a few more frantic thrusts. You're gasping, cursing when you can spare the breath, and then you're whining high in your throat as Stan presses as deep as he can fucking go. His voice catches for a moment. Then he groans, long and loud, right into your face as he comes deep in you. It's so hot, literally, you can feel the heat blooming in your fucking cunt, can feel the way his thick dick twitches with its release.

“Fuck—Fuck,” Stan swears, shifting again so he can slide one hand to your hip. He hikes it up and shuffles closer on his knees, sighing once his lungs have the capacity. You're still catching your breath, still dizzy with warmth and post-orgasmic bliss as you think of that pocket of come being plugged inside you by Stan's softening dick. Stan breathes deeply in, then out. He’s still riding the tail end of his orgasm when he murmurs, “You okay?”

“Mm. Yeah,” you manage, carefully unwinding your fingers from his hair. When Stan can lift his head to look at you, his face is red with exertion. There's some drool slipping out the corner of his mouth, and you try a smile. “You?”

“Yeah,” he says, but he sounds distracted. He studies your features, reading your expression, and whatever you managed of a half-smile drops.

“What?” you ask. But then Stan nudges his hips back, just an inch, and slowly presses into you again. Your breath hitches in your throat, your hands flying to his shoulders to grip him there. “What are you—Ah, ah, fuck.”

You feel exactly what he does. Stan's come is slick in you, it always is, but the new connotations add so much to the warm, wet pool within your body. Stan grinds into you, getting your thighs and his abdomen slick with your come, then pulls out again. When he pushes back in, you both moan at how fucking easy it is. There's no resistance. His come is sticking the way, making it easier for him to fuck you.

Stan is still breathing deep, but another smile plays on his lips. He’s close enough that he only has to tilt his head slightly to kiss you, but it's chaste nonetheless. His grin is bright and affectionate. But it isn't quite innocent.

“You wanna try for another?” he chuckles, his hand smoothing over your skin to dip between your bodies, to press gently, reverently against your stomach. You jolt at the touch, but eventually your hips start rocking into him. Stan doesn't move. You're intoxicated by the thought of him keeping you like this, pinned beneath him, full of his come and plugged by his dick as he brings you to the edge with his fingers.

“Ah, shit—Fuck. Yeah,” you say, the corners of your mouth rising up to match Stan's grin. You play along easier this time. “Yeah. Please. As many times as it takes, right?”

“Gotta knock you up somehow,” Stan says, keeping eye contact with you, his voice oozing with affection. You chuckle at him. What a softie. Then his fingers press a little harder on your stomach, then dip lower, lower, to really touch you, and your mouth drops into a moan instead. “Gonna be such a good mommy.”

You're having a great night.

(inspo from Family Planning by burberryali, which dropped super recently and helped a lot while i learned to write this!!! if you like breeding and fluff and stan in general... which i know you do... this fic is for you! show it some love!!)