fangedforyou

[fangedforyou]

🍒 Vampire (Aleksandr)

Dacryphilia, power-play, degradation, oral (fem receiving), dry humping, submissive vampire, dubcon-ish thanks to aphrodisiacs

I just love a powerful monster getting brought to their knees. A scene like this with your boss irl would be sooo awkward but luckily, this is fiction

It's sort of your fault. You clocked in to work at the club and got distracted by table seven, which was full of young, hungry vampires who wouldn't stop staring at you. You'd given blood just the day before, which meant today all you were allowed to do was be eye candy, wait on tables, and shuttle trays of blood-infused drinks.

That's why you didn't pay attention to what drink you grabbed when you were told to take a 'blood moon' to the owner of Club Crimson, who wanted to talk to you. You'd think an ancient vampire would be more wary about what he was handed, but he'd taken the glass from you and drained it in two swallows. He proceeded to talk about how impressed he was with your work ethic for all of one minute before he was abruptly collapsing into the chair behind his desk, eyelids fluttering.

"S-sir?" You begin to stand, but he lifts a hand to stop you.

"What did you put in my drink?"

"Nothing? I was told to bring... Oh no."

The memory of the drinks on the bar flashes into your mind and you realize you grabbed a 'train shot' instead. Aptly named, because the effects hit like a train. Just one is enough to put a vampire on their ass, especially if they drink it all at once like he just did.

"I... I gave you a train shot."

"You gave me a—"

"Accidentally."

He tilts his head back and opens his mouth. It looks like a yawn, or maybe even a silent moan, but the fangs that protrude are fully formed and terrifyingly sharp. Aleksandr Kominski was turned somewhere in his forties, a handsome dilf till the end of time, and you're not above his charm.

"I should fire you," he groans and rubs his jaw.

His face is getting flushed, and for a species that is always remarkably low on blood, that's pretty alarming.

"I'm sorry, sir! It won't happen again. Please don't fire me," you beg. "I like working here."

"I'm willing to let your carelessness slide just this once. But you will have to do something for me."

"Anything," you breathe out.

He smiles with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Insult me."

"Pardon?"

"You heard me." He leans back in his chair. "Call me names. Drag me out of my chair. Spit on me."

Oh shit. That drink is doing a number on him. You don't know what's worse, that your boss—normally a very put-together vampire— is falling apart, or that it's bringing all his secrets to light. Or is he doing this to test you? You clear your throat.

I just said I'd do anything, you remind yourself.

He's watching you with eyes that burn a bright red. Vampire eyes only get that color if they're hungry or horny. You take a deep breath and go for it.

"That was stupid. Drinking what I gave you, I mean. Aren't vampires your age supposed to be smart?"

His lips part. He's looking at you like he has just found treasure. Trusting your gut instincts, you press on.

"You're the owner of this place, but you can't even keep your shit together. Should you really be sitting on that chair?" You stride forward and wave your hand. "Off."

Sweat prickles along your hairline at your own audacity, but he slides bonelessly out of the chair and settles on the floor, staring up at you.

"Better," you hum, and plop your ass in his chair.

God, it's comfy. You get why he spends so much time in his office.

"You look good on the floor. I think you'll need to earn this chair back, Aleksandr."

"Yes," he says hoarsely. "Show me what I have to do."

How far do you get to go? What if he has a massive hangover the next day and forgets that he asked you to do this and fires you anyway? You bite your lip and reach out to touch his hair. From the first day you met him, you've wanted to know what it feels like, and you're not disappointed now. His hair is straight and silky, interspersed with gray. It's long too, sweeping past his shoulders. You take hold of his hair close to the scalp and give a good yank. This time he moans audibly, squirming as his gaze is forced to the ceiling and his vulnerable neck is exposed. That's like a cat's belly, and he fights against the instinct to revert to a more protected posture.

"You have to sit there and accept your punishment without complaint. But you've already fucked that up, haven't you?" You lean in to add in a murmur, "You're not supposed to be hard."

You trail your fingers over the bulge in his pants. "This is all you want, isn't it? Someone to pull your hair and make you cry."

You add that last bit because his eyes are glossy, and a teardrop even rolls down his cheek. You didn't know he was capable of crying. He usually gives off a tough-as-nails aura.

You scoff. "Are you really that weak? Do you want me to stop?"

"No! Please," he says, his teary eyes fixed on you.

"Well, you can start by apologizing for enjoying something that's supposed to be your punishment." You scoot to the edge of the chair and part your legs.

You're thinking you've finally hit his limit, but you're wrong. He presses his lips to your knee in a quick hungry kiss, then nudges between your legs, pulling you even closer till you're nearly falling off the chair. Cool air brushes over your inner thighs. You don't have much time to consider the consequences of what you're doing, because he nips at your sheer tights and then decimates them with his fangs so that he can press his eager tongue against your clothed pussy, discovering how wet you are. He lets out a ragged moan.

This is a bigger turn-on than you expected, you realize. You're soaked.

Aleksandr notices, of course he does. He hooks his fingers in your underwear and tugs it to the side so he has full access to what he's craving. He's got a couple of hundred years of experience, and he makes you feel every single second of it. He sucks your clit into his mouth and you see fireworks. You're vaguely aware of your leg positioned between his thighs as he ruts against it like a beast in heat, panting raggedly, so worked up that he's forgotten he doesn't need to breathe. You cum hard, your body stiffening as your nerves sing with pleasure. It takes you a moment to come back to yourself and hear his desperate moans.

"You're going to rub my leg raw," you grumble, yanking your leg away. "Take care of yourself."

He doesn't need you to tell him twice. He yanks his pants open and you hear a pop and then the clatter of a button rolling across the floor. He winces when he takes his swollen cock in hand, and you hum.

"Sensitive, I bet. Stroke yourself. Slowly."

You actually do end up making him cry as you instruct him to go slower and slower until his hand is barely moving at all. His hips twitch as he fights the urge to fuck into his hand. The bright red hue in his eyes has faded considerably. The effect of the drink is fading. You're pretty sure he's mostly himself but even so, his eyes are still fixed on you, holding himself back and waiting for your next command.

"Go ahead, I think you've earned it," you say softly.

All it takes is a few more strokes, and he's spilling into his hand with a shudder and a gasp. He presses his face against your thigh and you stroke his hair and for a few minutes neither of you says anything. Finally, you scrape up the courage to speak.

"So..."

"Mmph."

"Do I get to keep my job?"

He lifts his head. "I'm promoting you, starting today. Work directly for me."

It sounds more like a plea than a demand.

You can't help the grin that spreads on your face. "I'll think about it."

You get up and saunter out of there, playing cool despite the way your heart is thrashing around in your chest. You told him you'd think about it, but you already know the answer.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ♡

@fangedforyou

[fangedforyou]

🍒 Vampire (Aleksandr)

Dacryphilia, power-play, degradation, oral (fem receiving), dry humping, submissive vampire, dubcon-ish thanks to aphrodisiacs

I just love a powerful monster getting brought to their knees. A scene like this with your boss irl would be sooo awkward but luckily, this is fiction

It's sort of your fault. You clocked in to work at the club and got distracted by table seven, which was full of young, hungry vampires who wouldn't stop staring at you. You'd given blood just the day before, which meant today all you were allowed to do was be eye candy, wait on tables, and shuttle trays of blood-infused drinks.

That's why you didn't pay attention to what drink you grabbed when you were told to take a 'blood moon' to the owner of Club Crimson, who wanted to talk to you. You'd think an ancient vampire would be more wary about what he was handed, but he'd taken the glass from you and drained it in two swallows. He proceeded to talk about how impressed he was with your work ethic for all of one minute before he was abruptly collapsing into the chair behind his desk, eyelids fluttering.

"S-sir?" You begin to stand, but he lifts a hand to stop you.

"What did you put in my drink?"

"Nothing? I was told to bring... Oh no."

The memory of the drinks on the bar flashes into your mind and you realize you grabbed a 'train shot' instead. Aptly named, because the effects hit like a train. Just one is enough to put a vampire on their ass, especially if they drink it all at once like he just did.

"I... I gave you a train shot."

"You gave me a—"

"Accidentally."

He tilts his head back and opens his mouth. It looks like a yawn, or maybe even a silent moan, but the fangs that protrude are fully formed and terrifyingly sharp. Aleksandr Kominski was turned somewhere in his forties, a handsome dilf till the end of time, and you're not above his charm.

"I should fire you," he groans and rubs his jaw.

His face is getting flushed, and for a species that is always remarkably low on blood, that's pretty alarming.

"I'm sorry, sir! It won't happen again. Please don't fire me," you beg. "I like working here."

"I'm willing to let your carelessness slide just this once. But you will have to do something for me."

"Anything," you breathe out.

He smiles with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Insult me."

"Pardon?"

"You heard me." He leans back in his chair. "Call me names. Drag me out of my chair. Spit on me."

Oh shit. That drink is doing a number on him. You don't know what's worse, that your boss—normally a very put-together vampire— is falling apart, or that it's bringing all his secrets to light. Or is he doing this to test you? You clear your throat.

I just said I'd do anything, you remind yourself.

He's watching you with eyes that burn a bright red. Vampire eyes only get that color if they're hungry or horny. You take a deep breath and go for it.

"That was stupid. Drinking what I gave you, I mean. Aren't vampires your age supposed to be smart?"

His lips part. He's looking at you like he has just found treasure. Trusting your gut instincts, you press on.

"You're the owner of this place, but you can't even keep your shit together. Should you really be sitting on that chair?" You stride forward and wave your hand. "Off."

Sweat prickles along your hairline at your own audacity, but he slides bonelessly out of the chair and settles on the floor, staring up at you.

"Better," you hum, and plop your ass in his chair.

God, it's comfy. You get why he spends so much time in his office.

"You look good on the floor. I think you'll need to earn this chair back, Aleksandr."

"Yes," he says hoarsely. "Show me what I have to do."

How far do you get to go? What if he has a massive hangover the next day and forgets that he asked you to do this and fires you anyway? You bite your lip and reach out to touch his hair. From the first day you met him, you've wanted to know what it feels like, and you're not disappointed now. His hair is straight and silky, interspersed with gray. It's long too, sweeping past his shoulders. You take hold of his hair close to the scalp and give a good yank. This time he moans audibly, squirming as his gaze is forced to the ceiling and his vulnerable neck is exposed. That's like a cat's belly, and he fights against the instinct to revert to a more protected posture.

"You have to sit there and accept your punishment without complaint. But you've already fucked that up, haven't you?" You lean in to add in a murmur, "You're not supposed to be hard."

You trail your fingers over the bulge in his pants. "This is all you want, isn't it? Someone to pull your hair and make you cry."

You add that last bit because his eyes are glossy, and a teardrop even rolls down his cheek. You didn't know he was capable of crying. He usually gives off a tough-as-nails aura.

You scoff. "Are you really that weak? Do you want me to stop?"

"No! Please," he says, his teary eyes fixed on you.

"Well, you can start by apologizing for enjoying something that's supposed to be your punishment." You scoot to the edge of the chair and part your legs.

You're thinking you've finally hit his limit, but you're wrong. He presses his lips to your knee in a quick hungry kiss, then nudges between your legs, pulling you even closer till you're nearly falling off the chair. Cool air brushes over your inner thighs. You don't have much time to consider the consequences of what you're doing, because he nips at your sheer tights and then decimates them with his fangs so that he can press his eager tongue against your clothed pussy, discovering how wet you are. He lets out a ragged moan.

This is a bigger turn-on than you expected, you realize. You're soaked.

Aleksandr notices, of course he does. He hooks his fingers in your underwear and tugs it to the side so he has full access to what he's craving. He's got a couple of hundred years of experience, and he makes you feel every single second of it. He sucks your clit into his mouth and you see fireworks. You're vaguely aware of your leg positioned between his thighs as he ruts against it like a beast in heat, panting raggedly, so worked up that he's forgotten he doesn't need to breathe. You cum hard, your body stiffening as your nerves sing with pleasure. It takes you a moment to come back to yourself and hear his desperate moans.

"You're going to rub my leg raw," you grumble, yanking your leg away. "Take care of yourself."

He doesn't need you to tell him twice. He yanks his pants open and you hear a pop and then the clatter of a button rolling across the floor. He winces when he takes his swollen cock in hand, and you hum.

"Sensitive, I bet. Stroke yourself. Slowly."

You actually do end up making him cry as you instruct him to go slower and slower until his hand is barely moving at all. His hips twitch as he fights the urge to fuck into his hand. The bright red hue in his eyes has faded considerably. The effect of the drink is fading. You're pretty sure he's mostly himself but even so, his eyes are still fixed on you, holding himself back and waiting for your next command.

"Go ahead, I think you've earned it," you say softly.

All it takes is a few more strokes, and he's spilling into his hand with a shudder and a gasp. He presses his face against your thigh and you stroke his hair and for a few minutes neither of you says anything. Finally, you scrape up the courage to speak.

"So..."

"Mmph."

"Do I get to keep my job?"

He lifts his head. "I'm promoting you, starting today. Work directly for me."

It sounds more like a plea than a demand.

You can't help the grin that spreads on your face. "I'll think about it."

You get up and saunter out of there, playing cool despite the way your heart is thrashing around in your chest. You told him you'd think about it, but you already know the answer.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ♡

@fangedforyou

[fangedforyou]

🍒 Vampire (Aleksandr)

Dacryphilia, power-play, degradation, oral (fem receiving), dry humping, submissive vampire, dubcon-ish thanks to aphrodisiacs

I just love a powerful monster getting brought to their knees. A scene like this with your boss irl would be sooo awkward but luckily, this is fiction

It's sort of your fault. You clocked in to work at the club and got distracted by table seven, which was full of young, hungry vampires who wouldn't stop staring at you. You'd given blood just the day before, which meant today all you were allowed to do was be eye candy, wait on tables, and shuttle trays of blood-infused drinks.

That's why you didn't pay attention to what drink you grabbed when you were told to take a 'blood moon' to the owner of Club Crimson, who wanted to talk to you. You'd think an ancient vampire would be more wary about what he was handed, but he'd taken the glass from you and drained it in two swallows. He proceeded to talk about how impressed he was with your work ethic for all of one minute before he was abruptly collapsing into the chair behind his desk, eyelids fluttering.

"S-sir?" You begin to stand, but he lifts a hand to stop you.

"What did you put in my drink?"

"Nothing? I was told to bring... Oh no."

The memory of the drinks on the bar flashes into your mind and you realize you grabbed a 'train shot' instead. Aptly named, because the effects hit like a train. Just one is enough to put a vampire on their ass, especially if they drink it all at once like he just did.

"I... I gave you a train shot."

"You gave me a—"

"Accidentally."

He tilts his head back and opens his mouth. It looks like a yawn, or maybe even a silent moan, but the fangs that protrude are fully formed and terrifyingly sharp. Aleksandr Kominski was turned somewhere in his forties, a handsome dilf till the end of time, and you're not above his charm.

"I should fire you," he groans and rubs his jaw.

His face is getting flushed, and for a species that is always remarkably low on blood, that's pretty alarming.

"I'm sorry, sir! It won't happen again. Please don't fire me," you beg. "I like working here."

"I'm willing to let your carelessness slide just this once. But you will have to do something for me."

"Anything," you breathe out.

He smiles with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Insult me."

"Pardon?"

"You heard me." He leans back in his chair. "Call me names. Drag me out of my chair. Spit on me."

Oh shit. That drink is doing a number on him. You don't know what's worse, that your boss—normally a very put-together vampire— is falling apart, or that it's bringing all his secrets to light. Or is he doing this to test you? You clear your throat.

I just said I'd do anything, you remind yourself.

He's watching you with eyes that burn a bright red. Vampire eyes only get that color if they're hungry or horny. You take a deep breath and go for it.

"That was stupid. Drinking what I gave you, I mean. Aren't vampires your age supposed to be smart?"

His lips part. He's looking at you like he has just found treasure. Trusting your gut instincts, you press on.

"You're the owner of this place, but you can't even keep your shit together. Should you really be sitting on that chair?" You stride forward and wave your hand. "Off."

Sweat prickles along your hairline at your own audacity, but he slides bonelessly out of the chair and settles on the floor, staring up at you.

"Better," you hum, and plop your ass in his chair.

God, it's comfy. You get why he spends so much time in his office.

"You look good on the floor. I think you'll need to earn this chair back, Aleksandr."

"Yes," he says hoarsely. "Show me what I have to do."

How far do you get to go? What if he has a massive hangover the next day and forgets that he asked you to do this and fires you anyway? You bite your lip and reach out to touch his hair. From the first day you met him, you've wanted to know what it feels like, and you're not disappointed now. His hair is straight and silky, interspersed with gray. It's long too, sweeping past his shoulders. You take hold of his hair close to the scalp and give a good yank. This time he moans audibly, squirming as his gaze is forced to the ceiling and his vulnerable neck is exposed. That's like a cat's belly, and he fights against the instinct to revert to a more protected posture.

"You have to sit there and accept your punishment without complaint. But you've already fucked that up, haven't you?" You lean in to add in a murmur, "You're not supposed to be hard."

You trail your fingers over the bulge in his pants. "This is all you want, isn't it? Someone to pull your hair and make you cry."

You add that last bit because his eyes are glossy, and a teardrop even rolls down his cheek. You didn't know he was capable of crying. He usually gives off a tough-as-nails aura.

You scoff. "Are you really that weak? Do you want me to stop?"

"No! Please," he says, his teary eyes fixed on you.

"Well, you can start by apologizing for enjoying something that's supposed to be your punishment." You scoot to the edge of the chair and part your legs.

You're thinking you've finally hit his limit, but you're wrong. He presses his lips to your knee in a quick hungry kiss, then nudges between your legs, pulling you even closer till you're nearly falling off the chair. Cool air brushes over your inner thighs. You don't have much time to consider the consequences of what you're doing, because he nips at your sheer tights and then decimates them with his fangs so that he can press his eager tongue against your clothed pussy, discovering how wet you are. He lets out a ragged moan.

This is a bigger turn-on than you expected, you realize. You're soaked.

Aleksandr notices, of course he does. He hooks his fingers in your underwear and tugs it to the side so he has full access to what he's craving. He's got a couple of hundred years of experience, and he makes you feel every single second of it. He sucks your clit into his mouth and you see fireworks. You're vaguely aware of your leg positioned between his thighs as he ruts against it like a beast in heat, panting raggedly, so worked up that he's forgotten he doesn't need to breathe. You cum hard, your body stiffening as your nerves sing with pleasure. It takes you a moment to come back to yourself and hear his desperate moans.

"You're going to rub my leg raw," you grumble, yanking your leg away. "Take care of yourself."

He doesn't need you to tell him twice. He yanks his pants open and you hear a pop and then the clatter of a button rolling across the floor. He winces when he takes his swollen cock in hand, and you hum.

"Sensitive, I bet. Stroke yourself. Slowly."

You actually do end up making him cry as you instruct him to go slower and slower until his hand is barely moving at all. His hips twitch as he fights the urge to fuck into his hand. The bright red hue in his eyes has faded considerably. The effect of the drink is fading. You're pretty sure he's mostly himself but even so, his eyes are still fixed on you, holding himself back and waiting for your next command.

"Go ahead, I think you've earned it," you say softly.

All it takes is a few more strokes, and he's spilling into his hand with a shudder and a gasp. He presses his face against your thigh and you stroke his hair and for a few minutes neither of you says anything. Finally, you scrape up the courage to speak.

"So..."

"Mmph."

"Do I get to keep my job?"

He lifts his head. "I'm promoting you, starting today. Work directly for me."

It sounds more like a plea than a demand.

You can't help the grin that spreads on your face. "I'll think about it."

You get up and saunter out of there, playing cool despite the way your heart is thrashing around in your chest. You told him you'd think about it, but you already know the answer.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ♡

@fangedforyou

[fangedforyou]

🍒 Minotaur (Vik)

You're seated in a milking booth on a chair that's the perfect height for your hands to comfortably reach where they're supposed to go. You're ready. You're taking a deep, calming breath when the door crashes open and a minotaur in an honest-to-goodness suit comes stomping in. He's beautiful, with large horns and cream-colored patches decorating his tan arms and legs. His eyes are stormy.

"A whole goddamn week," he grunts without even looking in your direction.

He unceremoniously yanks his swollen cock out of his pants with a hiss. "I'm about to burst, Janet. You've got to do something—" he looks up and huffs. "You're not Janet."

"Um, no?" You blink at him, embarrassed.

His eyes narrow. "Wait... Are you new?" When you nod he throws up his hands. "You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

"I assure you, I paid attention in orientation. I know what to do," you say, a little taken aback by his outburst.

His mood and intense pacing aren't enough to kill his erection though. His cock bobs with each thunderous step he takes.

"I don't doubt it, buttercup, but what you don't know is how I like it," he says. "And when I'm on a crunch for time I need it to be exactly the way I like it."

You bite back a retort. "Can I try?"

"Are you the buyer?"

You nod.

"Ambitious," he murmurs, taking a step closer. "Okay, let's see what you can do, hmm?"

His huge cock nearly pokes you in the face. You reach up with both hands already coated in oil, and begin. The minutes fly past. He's definitely late for whatever he was worried about missing, but maybe he doesn't even remember, because you proceed to milk every drop out of him, draining his balls until he has to sit with a heavy thump and gasp for air.

"I take back what I said about your skill, buttercup," he says raggedly. "You're my favorite now."

@fangedforyou

He ends up calling you two days later for a session at his office, and you're all too happy to go and see him.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ♡

[fangedforyou]

I've hit 40 followers ahhh! That's so nice! I'm glad people are enjoying what I write. 40/100 till I open my little patreon page

I'm working on a vampire x fem reader story where you accidentally give your boss a spiked drink and he becomes pathetically horny. I should have finished it by tomorrow or maybe even a little earlier than that! 👀

[fangedforyou]

🍒 Minotaur (Vik)

You're seated in a milking booth on a chair that's the perfect height for your hands to comfortably reach where they're supposed to go. You're ready. You're taking a deep, calming breath when the door crashes open and a minotaur in an honest-to-goodness suit comes stomping in. He's beautiful, with large horns and cream-colored patches decorating his tan arms and legs. His eyes are stormy.

"A whole goddamn week," he grunts without even looking in your direction.

He unceremoniously yanks his swollen cock out of his pants with a hiss. "I'm about to burst, Janet. You've got to do something—" he looks up and huffs. "You're not Janet."

"Um, no?" You blink at him, embarrassed.

His eyes narrow. "Wait... Are you new?" When you nod he throws up his hands. "You've got to be fucking kidding me!"

"I assure you, I paid attention in orientation. I know what to do," you say, a little taken aback by his outburst.

His mood and intense pacing aren't enough to kill his erection though. His cock bobs with each thunderous step he takes.

"I don't doubt it, buttercup, but what you don't know is how I like it," he says. "And when I'm on a crunch for time I need it to be exactly the way I like it."

You bite back a retort. "Can I try?"

"Are you the buyer?"

You nod.

"Ambitious," he murmurs, taking a step closer. "Okay, let's see what you can do, hmm?"

His huge cock nearly pokes you in the face. You reach up with both hands already coated in oil, and begin. The minutes fly past. He's definitely late for whatever he was worried about missing, but maybe he doesn't even remember, because you proceed to milk every drop out of him, draining his balls until he has to sit with a heavy thump and gasp for air.

"I take back what I said about your skill, buttercup," he says raggedly. "You're my favorite now."

@fangedforyou

He ends up calling you two days later for a session at his office, and you're all too happy to go and see him.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ♡

[fangedforyou]

🍒 White Dragon (Tarn)

rut, size difference, magic oil, belly bulge

At The Den, the staff are going crazy in the break room, whispering to each other.

"Evening!" You chirp, ready to clock in to work.

"Thank god you're here!" Your boss says. "We have a dragon in the throes of a rut, and no one available to take him."

"No one daring enough, you mean," one of your colleagues pipes up. "He's in pretty rough shape which means he's probably out of it."

"Is that why there's broken glass all over the lobby?" You ask.

"He missed the door and flew through the window," your chagrined boss says. "Now, I'd hate to send him away—"

"Not to mention, it'll be nearly impossible to," your colleague pitches in helpfully.

Your boss sighs. "You. Get on cleaning duty since you have so little to do except for talk."

Your colleague grumbles and whisks away.

Your boss turns to you with a furrow in their brow. "You don't have to take this job, of course. There's always another option."

"No, I'll do it," you say as you hang up your jacket and open your locker. "I've never had a dragon."

"For good reason. The size difference makes them challenging to handle," your boss says. "Just be careful, and remember the safe word."

You nod. "Which room?"

"Eight. I hope he hasn't decimated too many pillows," your boss sighs.

You change into a soft comfortable bathrobe and pad down the hall to Room Eight. The pillows are decimated, just like your boss feared. But instead of feathers and stuffing everywhere, it's cum, glazing the soft pillows till they look like pastries. A white dragon rolls in a nest of pillows and soft, thick blankets, rutting against yet another pillow. A gust of icy air escapes his maw in a snarl of frustration.

Can he breathe ice? You wonder.

"Hi. Need some help?" You call over cheerfully.

His crystaline eyes snap over to you and his cock leaks even more at the sight of a potential mate.

"Please," he says, pulling himself up into a hunched position, leaning over to nuzzle against your body and take an appreciative sniff of your scent. "Breedable," he confirms with a purr, his eyes glowing with lust.

"I have to prepare myself first." You hold up the jar of magically enhanced oil.

The Den buys it from Ambrosia by the box. It's expensive, but when it comes to stretching a hole enough to take a dragon, orc, or centaur cock, there's nothing better.

"Can you be patient?" You ask as you discard the bathrobe.

Cold air breezes against your nipples as he huffs out a breath.

"I will try," he replies, his powerful claws digging into the blankets.

You flop down on some pillows and part your legs wide so he can watch as you drizzle the oil over yourself and begin to work it over your folds and clit, warming yourself up a little before you push your oiled-up fingers into your pussy, adding as many fingers as you comfortably can, drawing an orgasm out as the oil relaxes you.

"Fuck," you whimper, your hand falling away to give yourself a moment to recover.

The moment you do, he leans down and shoves his thick tongue into your pussy, purring wildly as he tastes you. When the flat of his tongue shoves against your clit you jump and clutch his snout with a whine, feeling the smooth scales under your hand. He drags another orgasm out of you before he can't wait anymore and nudges you to roll over and get on your hands and knees to present for him, growling in appreciation at the sight. The tip of his leaking cock presses against your entrance.

There's always a moment when you're afraid it won't fit, because it is too big. But the oil from Ambrosia works its magic, and his thick cock slides into you, all the way to the base. You can feel the stretch, giving you a tingling pleasure as you arch your back and beg for him to fuck you. He does, with deep, controlled strokes.

You let your cheek fall against a pillow, surrounded by the scent of sex and intoxicating magic. You can feel his cock making room for itself in a way that should be impossible, forcing your belly to bulge with all that extra mass each time the head presses snugly against your cervix. All you can do is take it, mewling as he forces orgasm after orgasm out of you, snarling as he cums inside you, so much that it drips out of you. But he isn't satisfied, plunging his cock right back into you to breed you all over again.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ♡

@fangedforyou

[fangedforyou]

🍒 Naga Roommate (Sirus)

Should l start adding a summary so you know what you're getting into? Let me know! Also, in case it isn't clear because of the academy setting, all the characters in my stories are over 18! I don't usually specify ages, but I write my characters to be 20 at the youngest

You're playing spin-the-bottle and it lands on your shy naga roommate, Sirus. Then you get stuck in a closet and things happen... Sirus has two cocks, make-out session, Sirus is his own cockblock

"Kiss, kiss, kiss!" The faint chants of your friends filter into the closet, and you giggle in the dark. 

"I didn't think it'd land on you, Sirus. This is kind of awkward, isn't it?" 

"We probably shouldn't." 

His shyness comes across as prickly to most people, so even though he's been in Evergrace Academy for a couple of months, the only friend he has made is you, and that's likely because you share a dorm, so you're together a lot. 

"Come on, don't you want to know what kissing a human feels like?" 

"I... I don't know." 

"Here." You scoot closer in the dark, straddling his tail because the closet is rather small. His thick tail shifts under you.

You take his face in your hands and guide him to your own, so you can gently press your lips together. He stiffens, but he doesn't pull away. You hold the chaste kiss for a moment before you lean back.

“How was that?" 

"Good. Can we do it again?" He whispers. "A proper kiss this time?" 

"I'm glad you asked." 

You take your time, brushing your lips against his own before turning your head just a little to deepen the kiss. There's venom in his saliva, and you can feel it going straight to your core. You moan against his lips, and he takes the opportunity to slip his forked tongue into your mouth. Your tongues tangle together wetly. You're so absorbed by the kiss that it takes you a moment to feel the hardness jutting between your legs. You shift your hips forward, glad you're wearing a skirt that allows you to grind your core against him. He shudders and breaks the kiss. 

"Sorry," he groans. "I... I can't help it. You're so soft and you smell so good..." 

"There's nothing to apologize for." You bite your lip as the venom coursing through your veins makes everything so much more sensitive. 

His cock rubbing against your clit feels so good. He lets out a soft grunt, squirming against you. Something feels slightly strange, so you reach down to investigate, and your fingers bump against two shafts. 

"Oh my god, you have two? Now I really want to fuck you." 

He grabs your hand. "That's just the venom," he says gently. "You might as well be drunk. I don’t think it’s right." 

"What? No!" You try to explain, because your cunt is aching so badly that you might cry if you don't get to cum, but a thump on the door interrupts you. 

"It's been more than five minutes, guys! Other people want a turn!" 

You choke out a laugh. "God, maybe you're right," you murmur to Sirus. "But we will talk about this. Later." 

@fangedforyou

You give him one last kiss and get out of there, ignoring the cheers and whistles as you hurry back to your dorm room, because you need to take care of yourself, now.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ♡

[fangedforyou]

🍒 White Dragon (Tarn)

rut, size difference, magic oil, belly bulge

At The Den, the staff are going crazy in the break room, whispering to each other.

"Evening!" You chirp, ready to clock in to work.

"Thank god you're here!" Your boss says. "We have a dragon in the throes of a rut, and no one available to take him."

"No one daring enough, you mean," one of your colleagues pipes up. "He's in pretty rough shape which means he's probably out of it."

"Is that why there's broken glass all over the lobby?" You ask.

"He missed the door and flew through the window," your chagrined boss says. "Now, I'd hate to send him away—"

"Not to mention, it'll be nearly impossible to," your colleague pitches in helpfully.

Your boss sighs. "You. Get on cleaning duty since you have so little to do except for talk."

Your colleague grumbles and whisks away.

Your boss turns to you with a furrow in their brow. "You don't have to take this job, of course. There's always another option."

"No, I'll do it," you say as you hang up your jacket and open your locker. "I've never had a dragon."

"For good reason. The size difference makes them challenging to handle," your boss says. "Just be careful, and remember the safe word."

You nod. "Which room?"

"Eight. I hope he hasn't decimated too many pillows," your boss sighs.

You change into a soft comfortable bathrobe and pad down the hall to Room Eight. The pillows are decimated, just like your boss feared. But instead of feathers and stuffing everywhere, it's cum, glazing the soft pillows till they look like pastries. A white dragon rolls in a nest of pillows and soft, thick blankets, rutting against yet another pillow. A gust of icy air escapes his maw in a snarl of frustration.

Can he breathe ice? You wonder.

"Hi. Need some help?" You call over cheerfully.

His crystaline eyes snap over to you and his cock leaks even more at the sight of a potential mate.

"Please," he says, pulling himself up into a hunched position, leaning over to nuzzle against your body and take an appreciative sniff of your scent. "Breedable," he confirms with a purr, his eyes glowing with lust.

"I have to prepare myself first." You hold up the jar of magically enhanced oil.

The Den buys it from Ambrosia by the box. It's expensive, but when it comes to stretching a hole enough to take a dragon, orc, or centaur cock, there's nothing better.

"Can you be patient?" You ask as you discard the bathrobe.

Cold air breezes against your nipples as he huffs out a breath.

"I will try," he replies, his powerful claws digging into the blankets.

You flop down on some pillows and part your legs wide so he can watch as you drizzle the oil over yourself and begin to work it over your folds and clit, warming yourself up a little before you push your oiled-up fingers into your pussy, adding as many fingers as you comfortably can, drawing an orgasm out as the oil relaxes you.

"Fuck," you whimper, your hand falling away to give yourself a moment to recover.

The moment you do, he leans down and shoves his thick tongue into your pussy, purring wildly as he tastes you. When the flat of his tongue shoves against your clit you jump and clutch his snout with a whine, feeling the smooth scales under your hand. He drags another orgasm out of you before he can't wait anymore and nudges you to roll over and get on your hands and knees to present for him, growling in appreciation at the sight. The tip of his leaking cock presses against your entrance.

There's always a moment when you're afraid it won't fit, because it is too big. But the oil from Ambrosia works its magic, and his thick cock slides into you, all the way to the base. You can feel the stretch, giving you a tingling pleasure as you arch your back and beg for him to fuck you. He does, with deep, controlled strokes.

You let your cheek fall against a pillow, surrounded by the scent of sex and intoxicating magic. You can feel his cock making room for itself in a way that should be impossible, forcing your belly to bulge with all that extra mass each time the head presses snugly against your cervix. All you can do is take it, mewling as he forces orgasm after orgasm out of you, snarling as he cums inside you, so much that it drips out of you. But he isn't satisfied, plunging his cock right back into you to breed you all over again.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ♡

@fangedforyou

[fangedforyou]

🍒 Angel (Zaphaniel)

dubcon, corruption, edging, overstimulation

Everything is set. The incense, the scented oil, the sheet of the spellwork you spent so long poring over. This is supposed to be the project that impresses Professor Orion and gets you extra points on the test, and yet... Something is very clearly wrong. You scratch your head and stare at the sheet of paper, and then at the construct on the floor.

"You're not an incubus."

Unless incubi now somehow have feathered wings and celestial light, what you have lying breathless and splayed out in your construct is an angel. His eyes open. They are a pure shade of gold. His tawny skin complements his white wings and robes, making him an almost painfully beautiful sight to look at.

"Hello?" He sits up and blinks at you.

"This can't be right," you mutter, continuing to look from your paper to the angelic being. "This is supposed to summon an incubus. A sex demon!" You throw up your hands.

The angel tucks his wings around himself. "I don't know why I'm here."

"Me either. Uh, what the hell do I do?" You chew on your nail and pace.

It takes you a moment to realize the lines of the construct are turning golden and shimmery with magic. The angel is activating them. You spin around to look at him and he quickly averts his eyes, but you've caught him.

"Oh!" You look down at yourself.

You have a bathrobe on, but it's open and you're naked underneath, because you were anticipating a fuck session. Your lips curl into a grin. "You know, this might still work. I've never tried using celestial magic before."

The angel coughs. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"No? How about I show you? Look at me."

He's not supposed to, but his eyes flick back to you, curiosity and the beginnings of desire in his wide eyes.

You cup your breasts. "Have you ever felt a pair of these before?"

"N-no."

"They're soft." You step closer and crouch beside him, careful not to smudge the lines of your construct.

You take his wrists, marvelling at the unblemished milk-chocolate color of his skin. He's smooth and hairless except for the curly brown hair that falls down his shoulders. He lets you guide his hands to your tits. He cautiously squeezes them, his thumbs running over your nipples as they harden into little buds.

"They are soft," he agrees. "Lovely to touch."

"Aren't they?" You grin and nudge his thigh, boldly pushing up the robe as you go. His leg twitches but he doesn't move, his pupils dilating as you touch him in places he's never been touched before. Against the odds, this is working. His celestial power washes into the construct, powering it with magic.

"What's your name?"

"Zaphaniel."

"Do you want me to make you feel good, Zaphaniel?"

He nods. "I feel rather ill," he confesses.

"How so? Does your skin feel too hot? Tight on your body?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

You smirk. He really knows nothing. That kind of innocence is intoxicating to you. Of all the people to be summoned by, you might be one of the worst.

"Do you feel swollen?" You drift your hand higher and discover two things.

One, he's wearing nothing under those imperious white robes. Two, he's rock hard. He sucks in a sharp breath when you touch him.

"What are you doing?" He asks quickly.

You give him a comforting look. "I'm helping you feel better. Doesn't this feel good?"

He shudders. "I don't know," he says.

"Here," you bunch the hem of his robes. "Hold this up for me, okay?"

He does as you ask him to, gasping when he looks down and sees his cock throbbing and leaking in your hand.

"Why does it look like that?" He grimaces, looking rather horrified.

You laugh. "It will go back to normal, I promise. I just need to get you to climax."

"I don't understand." He pants.

"You will." You lean down and spit on the head of his cock, using your hand to slick his shaft until the mixture of your saliva and his precum makes an obscene sound. There's an attractive flush of heat in his cheeks. It doesn't take long to bring him to the edge. After all, this is new to him and he can't hold back from how good it feels. A low whine vibrates through him and you yank your hand away.

He almost wails. "Why did you stop?!"

"It'll make my construct stronger," you say with a shrug.

"That's cruel of you," he moans desperately, his cock aching for attention.

Dazedly he almost tries to do it himself, but you told him to hold the hem of his robes, so he has to obey. He looks at you with large, teary eyes.

"Please, can you touch me again? This feels terrible. Please."

"It's okay," you soothe, reaching for his cock again and resuming an unforgiving pace that makes his whole body tense.

The second time he gets close and you repeat it he actually begins to cry, golden tears tracking down his cheeks as he squirms and stares at you in betrayal.

"I'm sorry," you coo. "I promise that was the last time."

You curl your slippery fingers around his shaft and begin to pump your hand again. He whines at the friction against his too-sensitive cock, his stomach tightening as he tries to muffle his moans, fearing that you'll pull your hand away again.

"Ngh!" He stiffens and startles when cum jets out of his cock, a moan tearing out of him as it lands on your hands and his thighs.

You continue to stroke him until he softens. Only then do you release his cock, smiling in satisfaction as you look at the magic contained in the construct, so strong that it glows white-hot. Yeah, you're definitely passing this test.

This became a little long. Still, I hope you enjoyed the read! As always, reblogs are appreciated! ♡

@fangedforyou

[fangedforyou]

🍒 Naga Roommate (Sirus)

Should l start adding a summary so you know what you're getting into? Let me know! Also, in case it isn't clear because of the academy setting, all the characters in my stories are over 18! I don't usually specify ages, but I write my characters to be 20 at the youngest

You're playing spin-the-bottle and it lands on your shy naga roommate, Sirus. Then you get stuck in a closet and things happen... Sirus has two cocks, make-out session, Sirus is his own cockblock

"Kiss, kiss, kiss!" The faint chants of your friends filter into the closet, and you giggle in the dark. 

"I didn't think it'd land on you, Sirus. This is kind of awkward, isn't it?" 

"We probably shouldn't." 

His shyness comes across as prickly to most people, so even though he's been in Evergrace Academy for a couple of months, the only friend he has made is you, and that's likely because you share a dorm, so you're together a lot. 

"Come on, don't you want to know what kissing a human feels like?" 

"I... I don't know." 

"Here." You scoot closer in the dark, straddling his tail because the closet is rather small. His thick tail shifts under you.

You take his face in your hands and guide him to your own, so you can gently press your lips together. He stiffens, but he doesn't pull away. You hold the chaste kiss for a moment before you lean back.

“How was that?" 

"Good. Can we do it again?" He whispers. "A proper kiss this time?" 

"I'm glad you asked." 

You take your time, brushing your lips against his own before turning your head just a little to deepen the kiss. There's venom in his saliva, and you can feel it going straight to your core. You moan against his lips, and he takes the opportunity to slip his forked tongue into your mouth. Your tongues tangle together wetly. You're so absorbed by the kiss that it takes you a moment to feel the hardness jutting between your legs. You shift your hips forward, glad you're wearing a skirt that allows you to grind your core against him. He shudders and breaks the kiss. 

"Sorry," he groans. "I... I can't help it. You're so soft and you smell so good..." 

"There's nothing to apologize for." You bite your lip as the venom coursing through your veins makes everything so much more sensitive. 

His cock rubbing against your clit feels so good. He lets out a soft grunt, squirming against you. Something feels slightly strange, so you reach down to investigate, and your fingers bump against two shafts. 

"Oh my god, you have two? Now I really want to fuck you." 

He grabs your hand. "That's just the venom," he says gently. "You might as well be drunk. I don’t think it’s right." 

"What? No!" You try to explain, because your cunt is aching so badly that you might cry if you don't get to cum, but a thump on the door interrupts you. 

"It's been more than five minutes, guys! Other people want a turn!" 

You choke out a laugh. "God, maybe you're right," you murmur to Sirus. "But we will talk about this. Later." 

@fangedforyou

You give him one last kiss and get out of there, ignoring the cheers and whistles as you hurry back to your dorm room, because you need to take care of yourself, now.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ♡

[fangedforyou]

🍍 Vampire (Finley)

Light femdom

He has only been a vampire for a year and he's still learning to control himself. To control his wants and needs, because otherwise they'll overwhelm him. And then he meets you.

You're patient with him but you also encourage him to let go. You like to see him a little unhinged. He becomes putty in your hands, a submissive plaything to use how you like. There's one thing he's been shy about, and that's letting you see his scars from when he got turned into a vampire. He always wears a scarf or something with a high collar. One night you find him fresh out of the shower, brushing his hair. He jumps when you appear behind him.

"Please, I'd like to see them," you say.

He hesitates, but he doesn't stop you when you brush his pretty hair away from his neck and study the twin puncture scars he's been so protective over.

"The scars are ugly," he sighs. "They healed in the exact way they were made. Torn up and--" he gasps when you lean in from behind and kiss the scars.

He shudders and melts into your arms, as surprised as you are about to how hard he gets just from your lips on his neck.

"I think I found a new spot," you announce with a laugh. "I'm barely touching it and you're about to cave."

You press your lips to the scars and suck lightly, and this time his knees buckle. He catches himself against the counter with a hiss, his eyes burning red with desire. Before he can get a word out you push him away.

"Wait for me in the bedroom. You know what I want you to do?"

He nods. "Kneel beside the bed," he says breathily.

"Good boy." You dismiss him and he nearly falls over himself in his hurry to obey.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ♡

@fangedforyou

[fangedforyou]

🍍 Mothman (Rodin)

You find an injured mothman the night after your neighbors throw a huge bonfire party. It looks like he flew right into the flames by accident, then managed to make it over the fence before collapsing in your overgrown backyard. Maybe he thought the place was abandoned.

You end up scaring each other when you step into the backyard to enjoy your morning coffee in the sun and promise yourself yet again that you'll do something about the weeds. You jump at the person-sized lump on the ground, which stirs and goes all fuzzy with fear, like a startled cat. He whimpers and tries to crawl away from you, only to fall limp in the grass with a weak flutter of his wings.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see what you were at first," you say, crouching beside him. "You're hurt."

He grips your arm, his sensitive eyes streaming with tears from the sunlight. His fluffy body is midnight blue and his hands are the color of the night sky, with white freckles like stars. He's beautiful, but badly damaged. The holes burned into his wings don't look like they can be fixed.

"Let me help you. You need to get out of the sun."

He pulls himself closer to you, attracted to the shade your body creates. You help him up and he leans heavily against you, staggering as you lead him to your house. Soot comes off his body in little puffs.

"You need a shower. Are you hurt anywhere other than your wings?"

He shakes his head, clumsily rearranging his moth wings so they rest flat against his back. You show him to your bathroom, and apologize for your neighbors.

"They really shouldn't be making such big bonfires but they're celebrating a new addition to the family and I didn't think to warn them."

He shakes his head lightly in response, his antennae swaying.

"It's not your fault either," you tell him as you show him to your bathroom. "It's an unfortunate accident. Let me know if you need any help."

He pulls you towards him and gently rubs his cheek against yours, leaving a streak of soot. You laugh and urge him to shower.

He stays with you for some days until he recovers, but those days turn into weeks and you're not complaining. His flight is permanently disabled and he can only fly a couple of feet off the ground for short distances, so he practices walking until it comes naturally to him. He looks adorably cute, pattering around your house with his fluffy, soft body set on skinny, insectoid legs.

He leaves the house sometimes and comes back with armfuls of fresh fruit, bringing them to you. He sleeps in your bed too, and now you no longer need a blanket because you've got him.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ♡

@fangedforyou

[fangedforyou]

🍒 Rakshasa (Professor Orion)

Mentions of venom, dubcon if you squint, blowjob

The lecture is over and the room is quiet. You're the last one in the room. Your Rakshasa Professor slams your essay on his desk.

"This is rubbish." He growls. "You haven't been paying attention in class, have you?"

You wilt under his intense stare.

"Have you been taking something? Anything from Ambrosia?" His nose flares as he sniffs the air.

You purse your lips together. "I don't have to answer that."

"I think you do. I deserve to know why you'd rather play with yourself than listen to the lectures I spend hours preparing."

He folds his arms across his broad chest and you gulp.

"Sir, I..."

He eyes you, and you realize you're standing there pressing your thighs together like a whore. A rush of embarrassment goes through you.

"I'm sorry! It's just that my roommates decided to prank me and put venom in my tea. It's harmless, but it takes days to wear off."

The admission makes you breathless. You did not just admit to your professor that you've been perpetually horny.

He looks unimpressed. "And why haven't you fixed this issue? I'm sure you know how to ease the effects."

"Um..." You shift on your feet. "I didn't know who to ask. It's embarrassing."

"And yet you're fine with fucking your fingers while you listen to me teach?" He raises an eyebrow and you wince.

"I'm sorry," you mumble again, because you have no way to defend yourself. After all, you did do that.

Professor Orion sighs. "I consider myself responsible for the success of my students in this class, you know."

"I'll pay attention, I swear."

"When does the venom wear off?"

"A few more days, I think..."

He runs a hand through his mane and kicks his rolling chair back. "Come around my desk," he orders.

You round the desk and stand fidgeting in front of him. Being this close isn't helping with the dirty images running through your head. You're distracted to the point that you don't immediately register what he's saying.

"Get under the desk," he says very casually, "and suck my cock."

"Pardon?" You stare at him.

"You heard me. It'll help. There's a test coming up tomorrow and you need a clear head to study." He gestures to the space underneath his desk.

You sink to the floor and crawl obediently under the desk. He unzips his pants and takes his cock out, thumbing a bead of precum from his slit. He scoots the chair back, bringing his cock right up to your mouth. You open your mouth and kiss the pointed tip, tasting his precum as you flick your tongue against the underside. His shaft is obscenely thick, so you can't stop yourself from drooling as you suck on his cock. He lightly scratches his claws against your scalp, which feels amazing.

"Good girl," he purrs, the sound low and rough in his chest. "As long as you're this focused in class you'll pass."

You show him just how good you can be, and even when someone comes in to ask him some questions you carry on, doing your best not to make any noises and give yourself away. Your panties are going to be ruined with how wet you are, but you don't care.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ♡

@fangedforyou

[fangedforyou]

🍒 Minotaur Gymbro (Adam)

Blowjob

You see him at the gym often, it looks like you have the same schedule. You keep to yourself on your chosen treadmill but you watch him avidly as he huffs and snorts and lifts weights that would pancake a foot if they fell. He never drops them, though. He's really strong.

One day he asks you to spot him and you're all too eager to help out. Another thing that fascinates you is how quickly he gets hard. It happens all the time and today is no exception. Each deep breath he takes pulls your scent into lungs and he just can't help the way his cock swells in his pants. He grunts and fumbles a rep. Quickly, you help him get the weight back on the bar.

"Are you okay?" You ask sweetly.

He sits up and rubs the base of his horn sheepishly. "Sorry. I got distracted."

"That's not good," you frown. "Is it because of this?" You lean over and cup the bulge of his cock.

His legs fall open a little wider and he groans. "Y-yeah."

"Why haven't you had this taken care of?" You ask.

"I've been too busy training. Got a competition coming up soon," he mumbles, eyes falling half shut as you rub him through his shorts.

"I could help, if you want," you offer.

"Fuck... Yes."

You grab your exercise mat for something comfy to kneel on and pull the waistband of his shorts down. His throbbing cock springs out, leaking precum down the pink and tan shaft. His mouth falls open when your wet, warm mouth engulfs his cock. At least, you try. The thick, flared head of his cock juts obscenely against the inside of your cheek. You pull back to lick and kiss at the head, teasing him until his moans turn wild and his hips jerk with barely managed restraint.

"Please," he rasps. "Put more of my cock in your mouth. Just a little more."

"But it's so big," you murmur, licking a stripe down the shaft and blowing cool air on it.

"I know you can do it. Just an inch or two," he pleads.

When you finally cave and press down on his cock he chokes and grips the bench underneath him to try and ground himself, moaning as his hips jerk in tiny movements, easing another inch into your mouth. You work his shaft with one hand and cup his balls in the other. They're heavy, silky, and warm in your palm. You give them a gentle squeeze, toying with the minotaur until his balls and stomach tighten and he's gushing into your mouth.

It's a good couple days worth of sweet cum. You swallow but some of it still manages to leak out of your mouth and dribble down your chin. He catches the spillage with a broad sweep of his tongue and ends it with a cute kiss to your cheek.

"Thank you," he says bashfully.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ♡

@fangedforyou

[fangedforyou]

At the time of me scheduling this in the queue it has 100 notes already! Thank you! 😭

🍒 Dragon Hybrid Roommate (Bram)

Light somnophilia, dry humping, prone bone position, creampie

Your dragon hybrid roommate offers to sleep in your bed for the night after you complain that you just can't get warm, no matter what you do. You're pleasantly surprised by the offer and quickly say yes. After all, he gives off heat like a radiator.

That night when you clamber into your bed and he follows, you realize you've hit the jackpot. You've never felt this nice and toasty before. You curl against his side with the excuse of getting comfy and promptly fall asleep.

Your roommate tries hard to be decent, but he wasn't expecting your scent to be so enticing, and for your body to be so soft. Your breasts press against his arm as he lays on his back and you scoot closer and lay on top of him in your sleep. Your legs find comfortable resting spots on either side of his hips, bringing your pussy daringly close to his slit He really tries, but within moments of you rubbing against him in your sleep, his dripping cock is emerging.

He lifts his hips to drag his cock against your clothed pussy. His tongue laves over his sharp teeth as he imagines marking you and making you his. He's gripping your hips and purposefully shifting you against his cock, a hot pant escaping from him. Despite the barrier between the two of you, your fat, warm pussy feels amazing as it slides over the ridges of his cock. He ruts a little harder, a groan rumbling out of him of his cock pushes against the cotton of your panties.

You stir on top of him, letting out a confused sound and then a gasp when his cockhead catches on your swollen clit. You're so warm and sleepy that you're not really thinking straight, but you manage to reach down and pull your panties to the side, spreading your thighs wider so that the next time he rocks his hips, hardly believing you're allowing him to do this, his cock presses against your entrance and slides in. He hisses at the feeling of your tight walls clamping against his cock.

He's forced to go slow, pumping his hips in small thrusts to open you up for him. He shifts you onto your belly so he can fuck you from behind, his hips meeting your ass with slapping sounds, the tip of his tail stealing under you to tease your clit. You cry out, cumming hard around his cock, and he surges forward and buries his cock deep inside you with a snarl, painting your insides with his cum and warming you up even further.

He doesn't pull out, simply nestling his still-hard cock deep inside. You're vaguely aware of him curling around you and nuzzling your neck as you drift back into your dreams, content and stuffed.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs are appreciated ♡

@fangedforyou

[fangedforyou]

🍒 Angel (Zaphaniel)

dubcon, corruption, edging, overstimulation

Everything is set. The incense, the scented oil, the sheet of the spellwork you spent so long poring over. This is supposed to be the project that impresses Professor Orion and gets you extra points on the test, and yet... Something is very clearly wrong. You scratch your head and stare at the sheet of paper, and then at the construct on the floor.

"You're not an incubus."

Unless incubi now somehow have feathered wings and celestial light, what you have lying breathless and splayed out in your construct is an angel. His eyes open. They are a pure shade of gold. His tawny skin complements his white wings and robes, making him an almost painfully beautiful sight to look at.

"Hello?" He sits up and blinks at you.

"This can't be right," you mutter, continuing to look from your paper to the angelic being. "This is supposed to summon an incubus. A sex demon!" You throw up your hands.

The angel tucks his wings around himself. "I don't know why I'm here."

"Me either. Uh, what the hell do I do?" You chew on your nail and pace.

It takes you a moment to realize the lines of the construct are turning golden and shimmery with magic. The angel is activating them. You spin around to look at him and he quickly averts his eyes, but you've caught him.

"Oh!" You look down at yourself.

You have a bathrobe on, but it's open and you're naked underneath, because you were anticipating a fuck session. Your lips curl into a grin. "You know, this might still work. I've never tried using celestial magic before."

The angel coughs. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"No? How about I show you? Look at me."

He's not supposed to, but his eyes flick back to you, curiosity and the beginnings of desire in his wide eyes.

You cup your breasts. "Have you ever felt a pair of these before?"

"N-no."

"They're soft." You step closer and crouch beside him, careful not to smudge the lines of your construct.

You take his wrists, marvelling at the unblemished milk-chocolate color of his skin. He's smooth and hairless except for the curly brown hair that falls down his shoulders. He lets you guide his hands to your tits. He cautiously squeezes them, his thumbs running over your nipples as they harden into little buds.

"They are soft," he agrees. "Lovely to touch."

"Aren't they?" You grin and nudge his thigh, boldly pushing up the robe as you go. His leg twitches but he doesn't move, his pupils dilating as you touch him in places he's never been touched before. Against the odds, this is working. His celestial power washes into the construct, powering it with magic.

"What's your name?"

"Zaphaniel."

"Do you want me to make you feel good, Zaphaniel?"

He nods. "I feel rather ill," he confesses.

"How so? Does your skin feel too hot? Tight on your body?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

You smirk. He really knows nothing. That kind of innocence is intoxicating to you. Of all the people to be summoned by, you might be one of the worst.

"Do you feel swollen?" You drift your hand higher and discover two things.

One, he's wearing nothing under those imperious white robes. Two, he's rock hard. He sucks in a sharp breath when you touch him.

"What are you doing?" He asks quickly.

You give him a comforting look. "I'm helping you feel better. Doesn't this feel good?"

He shudders. "I don't know," he says.

"Here," you bunch the hem of his robes. "Hold this up for me, okay?"

He does as you ask him to, gasping when he looks down and sees his cock throbbing and leaking in your hand.

"Why does it look like that?" He grimaces, looking rather horrified.

You laugh. "It will go back to normal, I promise. I just need to get you to climax."

"I don't understand." He pants.

"You will." You lean down and spit on the head of his cock, using your hand to slick his shaft until the mixture of your saliva and his precum makes an obscene sound. There's an attractive flush of heat in his cheeks. It doesn't take long to bring him to the edge. After all, this is new to him and he can't hold back from how good it feels. A low whine vibrates through him and you yank your hand away.

He almost wails. "Why did you stop?!"

"It'll make my construct stronger," you say with a shrug.

"That's cruel of you," he moans desperately, his cock aching for attention.

Dazedly he almost tries to do it himself, but you told him to hold the hem of his robes, so he has to obey. He looks at you with large, teary eyes.

"Please, can you touch me again? This feels terrible. Please."

"It's okay," you soothe, reaching for his cock again and resuming an unforgiving pace that makes his whole body tense.

The second time he gets close and you repeat it he actually begins to cry, golden tears tracking down his cheeks as he squirms and stares at you in betrayal.

"I'm sorry," you coo. "I promise that was the last time."

You curl your slippery fingers around his shaft and begin to pump your hand again. He whines at the friction against his too-sensitive cock, his stomach tightening as he tries to muffle his moans, fearing that you'll pull your hand away again.

"Ngh!" He stiffens and startles when cum jets out of his cock, a moan tearing out of him as it lands on your hands and his thighs.

You continue to stroke him until he softens. Only then do you release his cock, smiling in satisfaction as you look at the magic contained in the construct, so strong that it glows white-hot. Yeah, you're definitely passing this test.

This became a little long. Still, I hope you enjoyed the read! As always, reblogs are appreciated! ♡

@fangedforyou