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Chogiwa (Part 1)

A/N: I can’t believe I actually wrote an actual smut based on Chanyeol’s trademark ‘Chogiwa’ but shit happens and here we are. This is going to be two-part smut, so here is the first part for you all! Also, this is dedicated to my fam/partner-in-crime/best tumblr friend @nunchiwrites (who is one of THE best writers I know out there!) as she’s been craving for some hot Wolf! Chanyeol ;) enjoy this baby of mine and remember to leave some feedback in the ask box too, you lovely people x (and look forward to Part 2 in the near future!)

Pairing(s): Chanyeol x Reader (with a hint of Kyungsoo)

Genre: Smut

Requested: Yes, by @nunchiwrites

Summary: Chanyeol marks you as his mate to protect you from another wolf and steamy stuff happens.

Word Count: 4145

Originally posted by dazzlingkai

For eighteen years, people have been warning you to not wander into the forest at night, especially when there’s a full moon. You’ve heard whispers about the ‘beasts’ that attack innocent people in the shadows of the woods and the rumours about ‘half human, half wolf’ mutants. You never really believed a word of it. Half human, half wolf? Seriously?

Scoffing to yourself in your mind, you merrily continue your stroll into the forest, enjoying the night breeze wafting through your hair. A quick upwards glance tells you that there’s a full moon out tonight, glowing brightly and illuminating the entire ink-black sky beautifully.

Smiling contentedly to yourself, you find your feet taking you further into the depths of the forest, increasing the distance between your form and the bustling life on the outskirts of the woods. An abrupt gust of wind chills you right down to your bones and you wrap your arms around yourself tightly, goosebumps breaking out on your bare skin. In all the years you’ve been wandering into the forest on your own at night, you’ve never grown accustomed to the chilly breezes that claws at your skin ruthlessly.

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Troupes in Wings of Fire that I love

-Big scary fearsome dragon is actually a giant dork who just wants to eat and hang out with his friends

-Band of misfits who are all completely different find a family in one another

-Dragon that everyone thought was stupid and lazy due to appearence and stereotypes turns out to be one of the smartest and deadliest dragons in the series

-Villains that believe they know best and the world is against them even though they are very clearly villainous

-Villains that genuinely believe what they are doing is right for the world/their tribe but are actually doing really bad things

-LOTS of very morally grey villains

-Flawed protags

-Terrifying unlovable death-monster dragon actually turns out to be an awkward dork

-Victems of abuse take their anger out on their abusers/vocalize their frusteration with their abusers and is not painted in a bad light

-Humans are mostly insignificant delicious pipsqueaks

-MANY different views and cultures between different tribes and individual dragons

-Character that you thought was the helpful protag actually turns out to be a villain

-Less-than-stellar parents that still (sometimes) try their best

-Character that was supposed to assasinate a protag did not assasinate protag because he was charmed by her sassy, bitter attitude

-‘Aww you offered to rip my enemies wings off for me aww that’s so sweet

-Casual offers of violence

-Literally all of the characters are multidementional and probably can and will fuck shit up

The One With the Handcuffs

Summary: After spending a night in the backseat of the Impala, you walk into the motel room to find Dean, naked and handcuffed to the bed.
Word Count: 2,352
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader
Warnings: Language, explicit sexual content, oral sex [male receiving], unsafe sex [come on, y’all, this isn’t real life], slight praise!kink, restrained consensual sex.
Author’s Note: Italics are flashbacks. For  @eyes-of-a-disney-princessand @sis-tafics birthday bash.

The last thing you expected to see when you stepped into the motel room was a very naked Dean. But that’s not why your mouth fell open. It was the handcuffs. Yeah, Dean Winchester was handcuffed to the bed. Nothing you hadn’t seen or experimented with before, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that around Dean’s wrists and headboard was a pair of fuzzy, leopard-print handcuffs.

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The Nightclub Experience

Summary: You find out that Steve and your crush Bucky have never been to a nightclub. You decide to fix this fact

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4191

Warnings: reader gets roofied, bits of fluff, extroverted reader

A/N: Whoa, this one shot just kept going! It’s my longest one yet, lol. 

Please send requests, I’m sure people have better ideas than me :3

Originally posted by buckybarnesaddicted

You slam your palms into the table, surprising the Avengers you were talking to, a feat rarely achieved. “You guys have never been to a nightclub?” You ask, voice rising with disbelief along with your eyebrows.

“(Y/N), they’re ninety,” Nat pointed out from the couch, lazily spread across the furniture but attentively listening. “That does not excuse them,” You huff, rising from the table to cross your arms over your chest. Steve and Bucky glanced at each other worriedly.

As the extravert you were, it was hard to understand why Steve and Bucky weren’t taking advantage of the new era, trying all the fascinating new things that separated the 40s from the 2000s. You’d been to plenty of nightclubs and knew it was your solemn duty to have the boys experience it.

You weren’t related to the Avengers at all. You weren’t some mutant, or a night vigilante that lost their parents or gained special powers. You were the local café’s finest coffee brewer. Being a waitress and barista, you didn’t expect to become friends with the Avengers. And yet, here you were.

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anonymous asked:

bughead having sex at literally any change they get (several times please)

So much More: 

you got it! Mostly smut with a little bit of context at the beginning. 

Excuse me while I go blush profusely now… haha x

warning: so much smut [oh lord i am going to hell]

The first time was a little awkward, but wonderful none the less. It should’ve been in his dads trailer the night of the jubilee after confessing their love. That would’ve made sense. But it wasn’t. 

It was the night after that; they had spent all day at the hospital, they were emotionally exhausted, both from being the support Archie needed and seeing the man whom had been a prominent parental figure to both of them almost their entire lives, fight for his own. Jughead had climbed the ladder to  her bedroom window after he had bid her goodnight at the front door. Because he knew she needed him and he needed her too. It was comfort and love and the need to feel alive. It was hushed moans and muffled whimpers under pastel sheets and on floral comforters. It was rushed and slow all at once. It was, hunger, desire, passion and learning. 

And then it became so much more. It became a need, a want, engrained deep within their souls to feel close to each other. It was as if the further Riverdale tried to pry them apart, the more urgent the need to connect in every sense possible became. 

It was raw and passionate and oh so good. 

It was addictive and sinful and everything. 

It was leather and wool; rough and dark, while comforting and safe. 

And now it seemed every chance they got they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

It was late Monday evening and the young couple were seeking solace in FP’s trailer. Betty had managed to forgo the wrath of Alice Cooper which she would usually incur for being out this hour on a school night no less, as a very pregnant Polly was occupying all of her mother’s concern. And while Jughead’s foster parents were nice enough they were not capable of enforcing rules he actually wanted to abide by.

This had become a routine of sorts for them. Hiding away from the rampage outside and enjoying the little slice of domesticity here in the small excuse for a home. Here they revelled in each other’s company and nothing else, particularly enjoying the teenage bliss they were able to manufacture in the air. 

Betty was sitting on the couch text book on her lap. Her blonde hair was tied back in a messy low pony tail for a change- Jughead felt privilege well within his chest at the knowledge she felt so entirely free and herself here with him that she could shed her defences. Betty felt the same emotion as she took in his beanie less state. 

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11 A.M. 06/26

At eleven a.m., like clockwork, Adam’s phone buzzed on his nightstand and he reached for it, smiling. He’d been laying awake for an hour, waiting for this call. Now that he allowed it, every single day at eleven a.m. on the dot, he got a call from his Bull.

All part of Elias’ training, of course.

“Elias,” he answered, smirking when he heard a breathless little gasp instead of a proper response. “Darling, are you somewhere private?”

“Yes, Mother,” he said, his voice unsteady and breathy. Adam could hear him struggling and asked, “How long have you been holding it in for this time, Elias?”

“N-ninety minutes, Mother.”

“Good boy,” Adam crooned, grinning at the helpless moan he got in return. “Put your earpiece in, like I showed you, and turn the screen on.”

There was a soft rustle, a shuffle and chorus of wrong buttons being stabbed at with a slippery, frantic finger, and Adam’s screen flickered to life, showing him Elias’ flushed, sweaty face.

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Cherry Red II

Pairing:Min Yoongi x Park Jimin

Genre:Smut with plot?

Word count: 5.3k

Summary: Yoongi’s had enough of Jimin playing around, and realizes some things on his own

Note: I am telling y’all now, I have no idea how to write smut, I winged it all, I have no experience, I need references, I had no references but you asked for it so here! You! Go! Ohmygod it’s finally done I’m pretty sure I screamed in relief in the middle of class once I finished. I am so sorry if this sucks, this is my first ever Yoonmin smut, I don’t know how to write smut ohmygod please be gentle (Not proofread btw)

Originally posted by jimiyoong

Upon arriving at their shared suite, Yoongi had never seen Jimin dash for his room as fast as he had when they stepped in. Taehyung and Jungkook staring with wide confused eyes as their hyungs merely laughed and teased an exasperated Yoongi.

The presidential suite had three separate bedrooms, all of which contained their own bathroom. Namjoon and Jin one shared without much protest from the other members, Yoongi and Hoseok were paired together which left the maknae to create chaos in a room of their own.

Yoongi sat on his bed as he dug through his bag for something to wear, when Jin said get ready for dinner, it often meant that they were going out for the night and going back to work tomorrow. Yoongi had almost forgotten they were in the middle of a tour. Yoongi reached for his black ripped jeans, throwing a shirt similar to the one he was wearing over his shoulder as he made his way to the bathroom. Upon passing the open door that lead to the living room, Yoongi caught sight of Jimin; in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist.

Jimin stopped just as Yoongi had, noticing the older boy just the same. Yoongi blinked repeatedly as his mouth hung slightly, trying to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. A smirk made its way to Jimin’s face and he hadn’t tried to control it. His hand gripped one end of the towel that was tucked into his hip as he took slow steps towards the door. Jimin eyed Yoongi with a newfound confidence, and Yoongi wasn’t sure if Jimin was faking it this time or not. Yoongi stared at Jimin’s slow moving figure, the dancer’s fingers leisurely pulling at the white fabric. Yoongi gulped down the saliva that began to gather in his mouth, watering at the idea of seeing what Jimin had been keeping under those tight leather jeans during countless performances.

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sora102-deactivated20170919  asked:

"Play with yourself." Could you do either Logan or Erik?

A/N: I’m sorry none of these have been read over so I hope they’re not too bad, please let me know what you think x

“Play with yourself.” Logan Growled as he stalked into the room, his checked flannel rolled up at the sleeves but completely unbuttoned due to the increasing humidity of the summer; leaving a delicious view for you to soak up as your hand crept back between your thighs where it had been moments before Logan had swung the door open, returning from work early. 

Logan continued into the room finding a place for himself to sit in the armchair at the end of your bed; a perfect view to what he’d been thinking about all day. Dipping your fingers in lightly you let out a soft moan at the warm wet sensation on the tips of your fingers; rubbing circles on yourself you were lost in your on bliss as you felt the bed dip and the rumbling of Logans voice “Princess…”

Be Ours: A Cazigan Valentine’s Day Mini Fic

Happy Valentine’s Day to my OT3! Celebrate with some Cazigan AU love! Mild NSFW.

When Cassian turns the corner out of the elevator and see’s Apt. #301 canoodling next to Apt. #303, he knows he’s in for a long night. The jingle of his keys only barely masks the downtrodden grumble he makes as he approaches his own door and sees the pair go in for a kiss.

“Ahem,” Cassian coughs.

The two immediately stop kissing, but their bodies are nowhere near apart.

“Hey Cass,” the blonde one, Morrigan, pipes up, grinning ear to ear like a siren from the seas. She’s wearing a slinky little number of a dress that’s dripping in red and hugging all the right places. Cassian would have rather been spared the delicious view before facing his night alone.

Even worse is the man Morrigan is all tucked up against - Azriel. Azriel with the five o’clock shadow Cassian wants to run his fingers over and a tux that suggests the two have had quite a night out already.

Cassian hates Valentine’s Day. And his neighbors only make the night worse.

He’d run in to them in this exact scenario two nights ago right after his boyfriend had dumped him - over the phone. When Mor asked if he had a Valentine this year and Cassian had said no, she’d been way too excited about it and it pissed him off.

Even Azriel’s eyes had darkened with delight when he heard the news. Cassian couldn’t understand being so happy in someone else’s misery like that.

The two exchanged a devious look and slipped inside with a quick pair of So sorry and That’s a real shame, man before disappearing for the night.

But it wasn’t the last time that night he’d hear them talking.

Tonight, Morrigan’s running her fingers over Az’s bow tie, loosening it at the collar teasingly and Cass knows he’s in for another long night of antics he’d rather not hear.

“Have fun,” Cassian says without giving them time for conversation. “Make it a good one for me,” he says way too sarcastically, pushing his door open and hoping the sounds aren’t enough to force him into another cold shower.

He doesn’t catch Mor’s wicked grin or Azriel’s mischievous look before they too disappear for the night, but he doesn’t barely register Az’s snickering, “Oh we will.”

He tries not to groan at that.

Cassian collapses in the bedroom of Apt. #302 and sighs, running his hands over his face. It takes all of about five minutes before the distinct sounds of laughter and eventual moaning greet him from the other side of the paper thin wall he shares with #303.

Great, he thinks. Just what I needed tonight.

It’s not that he minds his neighbors being so in love. He’s pleased for them - honestly. They suit each other well and seem to make each other happy and there is no denying what an attractive couple they make.

The attractiveness, though - that’s exactly his problem.

When Azriel had moved in next door, Cassian had helped him move his furniture off the truck and out of the elevators. The day spent in sweat and clenching biceps was an inspiring treat for Cass made only that much more appealing by how well he and Az got on. They spent the next two months hanging out more and more frequently and there were times Cassian got the sense maybe his neighbor was starting to incline towards him the same way…

But then the cranky old woman in #301 died randomly in her sleep and not only was Morrigan a much more pleasant replacement, but she had a full rack to kill and legs for days that Cassian couldn’t stop staring at.

Neither could Azriel.

And Mor liked Azriel. Took a liking to him straightaway.

And so that was that. One year and a broken relationship with Apt. #527 on 9th Street later and Cassian found himself alone on Valentine’s Day preparing to listen to his impossibly attractive neighbors have sex and vaguely thinking about what it would be like to join them.


He wasn’t going to do this. It was positively masochistic to sit there all night and listen to them. He would leave.

But why should he leave when they were the ones having all the fun and spoiling a perfectly good evening for him? He’d tell them to knock it off or at least go back to #301 where the wall of Mor’s bedroom didn’t share with his own.

Cassian marched to his door, flew it open prepared to offer the lovebirds a piece of his mind, but as soon as he opened the door, all noise from next door stopped and so too did Cassian.

There was a box sitting just outside his door.

Cassian picked it up. It was plain and ordinary with only one thing written on it.

Apt. #302

“Huh,” Cassian grumbled and took the box inside, forgetting all about his previous plans. He set it on the counter and unfolded the flaps.

Inside was bright red tissue paper and a Valentine’s Day greeting card with a picture of a big purple conversation heart on it that said Be Mine, except that ‘Mine’ had been crossed out in black Sharpie and replaced underneath with a new word in delicate script.

Be Ours.

Cassian opened it and found only one handwritten message, this time in a messier more imprecise handwriting, that said:

Dearest Cassian,
Don’t be blue.
We’re having fun,
Though we could use some 302.

Two’s a company,
But three’s devout.
Bring this over,
And help us shout.

xx 301 & 303

His draw dropped. He almost didn’t believe what he’d read, but the eerie silence form next door and the two sets of handwriting were enough that he set the card down and removed the tissue paper from the box. Beneath it was a box of condoms and a bottle of lube.

Cassian laughed. Laughed so hard, he almost knocked himself on his ass as tears fell from his eyes.

Grabbing the lube and the condoms, he bolted for next door and was inches away from knocking when he saw the note posted above the door handle.

It’s open.

With a chuckle, he knocked anyway and opened the door, ripping the note off for good measure.

Morrigan’s red dress on the tile floor was all that greeted him and when he rounded the corner to the hallway and saw Az’s tux and boxers, he gulped with how quickly it made his blood boil.

“In here, Cass!”

Morrigan’s delighted melody of a voice called to him from the bedroom. He paused just outside the door.

“You’re sure about this?” he asked before entering.

The door swung suddenly wide open and there stood Azriel, stark naked and not looking one bit abashed about any of it. “You read the note right?” Cass flicked his brow up and held up the lube and condoms in either hand. Azriel’s lips twitched in feline pleasure before he slid his hand around Cassian’s neck and tugged him gently towards the room. “I can give you some encouragement if you want, but you don’t strike me as the type who needs it.”

“Well I am here after all,” Cassian said. He couldn’t deny he was still a tad nervous about this. These two twisted his stomach into all sorts of knots he’d never had before, so it was cautiously that he admitted, “But I didn’t think you-”

Azriel cut him off with a smoldering kiss that tasted of heat and wine. When Morrigan giggled like a school girl from the bed, Cassian felt himself go entirely hard. And from what he could feel (and see) from Azriel standing so near, he wasn’t the only one.

Mor pranced up from the bed and went round behind Cassian. She smelled like fresh oranges, juicy and delectable. Her hands pushed his lower back until he stumbled far enough into the room to close the door behind them while Azriel continued kissing him.

He and his neighbors got on quite well after that.