Mickey Milkovich X M!Reader

Draco: on Halloween we dress as skeletons, but in reality, the skeletons dress like us..

Y/n:…That does makes sense, but sometimes I worry about you

Hell yea

You can only reblog this today.

Always have room to correct, this includes myself and thank god I found this to help me

Hi! I was wondering if you happen to have any advice for writing smut that *doesn’t* sound like a teenager posting to Wattpad? 😅

before we start, I’d like to say that these are all just what I personally do with my writing / how I personally write. these are not “rules” and if you disagree with them, that is totally fine!

also, there’s going to be explicit language moving forward so you may scroll past this post if (written) porn isn’t your thing! 18+ content ahead!

let’s begin with the focus of your story. instead of focusing solely on “the action”, you can try focusing on “the feelings” too. how the characters are feeling as they’re being intimate with each other. in other words, instead of focusing on the “physical” aspects, try focusing on the “emotional / mental” parts and the “feelings” too. so that your characters also feel something else that isn’t just shallow arousal (obviously, there’s nothing wrong with being so horny that nothing else matters, if that’s your goals then go for it, what I’m saying is sometimes sex can be about something else that isn’t merely the act of coupling, if you get what I mean? the “porn with feelings” tag on AO3 is there for a reason and, yes, porn with feelings can get you just as aroused if not more!)

for instance, instead of “he roughly shoved his entire dick inside her pussy, grabbed her boob with one hand, the other steadied her hip, before he started thrusting and moaning”. you could try “he wasn’t being gentle when he pushed his length inside, feeling her body yield and surrender, engulfing him in one confident thrust. with one hand on her breast, the other on her hip to keep her still, he began moving, making love and declaring to his wife his fidelity in an ecstatic moan.”

how you describe your characters’ private parts affects the mood / vibes your readers get from your work too. I personally prefer using “cock / cunt” to “dick / pussy” because for me, the first set of pairing sounds sexier, more raw and more “mature”, while the latter just gives off the vibes of horny and mindless teenagers instead, which might only be a personal opinion and preference of mine!

that being said, the trick is that you don’t always have to use the exact, direct words over and over again while talking about the genitals. using “cock” sounds sexy and all, but using the word “cock” three times in the same sentence can feel like you’re trying a little too hard to make your readers know this is smut. they already know. and they know what the character is stroking.

sometimes the trick lies in the implication and indirectness of how you describe your scenes. sometimes it sounds more hot to, instead of directly saying what the characters are doing, use implication and metaphor to tell your readers what the characters are doing.

for instance, instead of “he pushed his big, big cock inside her and felt the walls of her cunt squeeze his cock, so he stayed still for a while to savor the feeling of her cunt around his cock before he started moving his cock” you could say something like “he pushed himself inside her, feeling the warmth of her around his length and opting to keep still to savor as much as he could of her tightness before he started thrusting.”

or, instead of “his cock was so huge it made her mouth water” it could be “the promise of godhood between his legs elicited from within her the hunger she never knew existed”

yes, smut is about sex. but sex can also be about other feelings besides arousal. sex can be about vulnerability, the complete trust one gives their partner. it can be about surrendering and submitting yourself to someone. it can be about dominating and controlling someone. it can be about pain and betrayal. it can be about hatred. it can even be about grief and mourning. just in case you want to throw in some feelings or angst and in case you want to describe your scenes with something else that isn’t just mindless arousal.

(again, smut with nothing but mindless arousal isn’t bad. there’s nothing wrong with smut just being smut with no other feelings involved. so this isn’t me saying you have to throw some emotions and depth into your porn, obviously. smut can be just smut and that’s fun and hot enough, and if that’s your thing then you do you. I will always be rooting for you.)

the two most important things while writing smut — as well as anything else that isn’t smut — are 1.) write whatever you want for you and 2.) practice makes perfect.

keep writing. your smut doesn’t have to be perfect the first time you write it, and that’s okay. that’s normal. the most skilled writer out there started out terrible at what they wrote, but the nature of writing is that you get better the more you write.

the first smut I wrote was about 8 years ago and it was terrible. and that’s fine. I’ve come a long way since. the point is: keep writing and writing and writing and you will keep getting better and better and better.

keep writing whatever you want to write, and have fun, that’s the key.

MNDI

Tags: Anal, Virgin!Spencer x Experienced!Reader, praising, Whiney Spencer, Car sex, Guided Sex

Spencer and you had been together for around six months, and unfortunately, those six months was a dry spell for you since Pretty Boy was a virgin and definitely worried about what to do. You didn't mind it, but you did mind getting cockblocked by your own boyfriend. Jesus.

Right now, you were waiting in the BUA's plane strip parking lot for him to finally get off the plane to go home. The clock in your dash blinked, 2:30 am.

"Dammit, Spenc.." you sighed, just wanting to go cuddle and past out like a light. Finally after another twenty long ass minutes, your sweet boyfriend was in the passenger seat of your car.

"Hey baby, how wa-" you get cut off by Spencer smashing his lips to yours. You made a mental note that it could've been a rough case, but his hands tugging your shirt up pulled you out of that thought. Quickly.

"Need you...missed you so bad." Spencer whined when you pulled away a little. "Then let's go home and we-"

You were cut off by a firm. "No." from Spencer.

So now, here you were, in the back of your car with a needy Spencer in your lap, both of you naked from the waist down. Your hand stroking Spencer's cock in a sweet pace and smearing the precum as lube as he whined and shook from a mix of nerves and satisfaction.

"I-ive never done any of this.." Spencer admitted weakly, even though you already knew. "That's okay, baby. I'll let you lead this and help through it." You reassured gently with a soft, quick kiss to his lips.

You wet your own cock with a mix of your own spit and his precum, helping him find the right angle to sink down onto your thick cock. Letting out soft groans while Spencer gasped and had tears brimming from the stretch and overstimulation, you were fully seated into Spencer's ass. You knew he could feel each twitch of your cock, just waiting to be able to overfill his tight, not-so-virgin ass.

"God, love. You feel amazing." You praises, kissing his neck and cheeks as you feel his thighs convulsing deliciously on each side of you. Poor, sweet, Spence had his face in your neck, shaking from the feel of being stretched. "Y-you can move now..I don't know.."

He cut himself off, embarrassed. "I'll help ya, now. Remember if you need a break or stop completely. You tell me."

You spoke softly, rolling his hips for now so he can get used to your thick cock moving inside him. Eventually he started to learn what he liked the most and rode you to his content, your hands on his hips, rubbing as you praised him

"That's it, baby. Take what you want from me."

"Good boy, sweet, pretty thing. Sound so good while you take me, love."

All his responses were of moans, whimpers and gasps in the confined, now humid car. "Oh..i..." Spencer fumbled, but you could see the glaze in his eyes, so as any good partner, you started meeting his hips in the middle.

"Cum for me, sweet thing. Lemme watch ya." You purred out, your own release impending. "I-i....oh..oh.." Spencer's thighs shook at each side of your hip, letting out one long moan as he finished, the hot mess going between both of yalls stomachs as your own finish filled him to the brim.

"Was I good?" Spencer asked with a whine as you panted, "Bloody hell, you were wonderful."

Oh for sure.

Wednesday Night Paper Work

You loved your holy sessions with the preacher. Even if it was sinful, you didn't care cause the father blessed you with his love. This night, he wanted to do paperwork, but you weren't there to help file. You were there to give his needy unused cock attention under the desk while he signed and spoke to other Preachers from around the city.

You had your hand between your legs, rubbing and grinding into it for pleasure; while The Father's cock was 4 piercings deep in your throat. The four other men in the room, chatted along about God and confessions. You didn't care much besides making your savior cum. You pulled away from his cock, teasing the tip, you wanted him to get blue balled. It'd make him so much more ready to abuse your cock-virgin pussy. You loved how he'd subtly adjust his hips, trying to make more friction. You continued on, lazily licking and stroking.

You didn't realize the other men left until the Father was pulling you from under the desk and set you against his desk, face heating at the cool of the wood. "You've been bad lamb. Time for you to learn." There was silence for only a moment, then the sting of a slap to your ass made you moan out. Another one came harder on your cheek, then another. You felt your thighs get wet, the Father began rubbing your tender red ass. "You learn your lesson?" He asks, "Yes Father!" You moan out, grinding into his touch as he began rubbing his hand against your wet cunt.

"Please Sir. I need you. Take me." You moan out, loving his touch. "Good lamb, I will, I'll take you so well."

25 posts!

Avatar Fanfic hehe. I don't have a name for it, but I do have tags.

Psa. This is if they stayed in the forest when the RDA came back, and Neteyam is alive. I am a fan, but I do use a translator for the Na'Vi language, so if anything is wrong, then I do apologize :) and Lo'ak is aged up since there's adult content in my writing

MDNI: Cussing, sexual instances, queer love <3

-This is an ongoing story, so yes, there's MDNI and smexy tags, but it'll happen later in the story.

My OC's overview (so y'all don't have to scramble lol):

Name: Winslow Quarich (Yes, he's Spider's brother, diff moms) Age: Nineteen Nickname: Ghost

Species: Human (has an Avatar body)

Height: 5'4 (Human) 7'2 (Avatar) Hair color: Comma mullet, brown

Eye color: Blue Skin tone: Tan, Honey shade

Recombinant Technology. Absolutely amazing, yet so destructive. Humans did not need the ability to play God. it was wrong.

Seeing my father in a Na'Vi body was definitely a shock and weird. Honestly, I hated that the man couldn't stay dead. I wasn't exactly what my father was hoping for as the eldest son. He wanted me to follow in his footsteps of being a hard-ass colonel, but no. He got, as he put it, a plant nerd. So I liked plants more than weapons? Not everyone was dickheads or blood thirsty.

I hardly spoke to Quarich, we just....coexisted in our familial bond and that was it. Even with him in this body, he still was a shitty father.

I was laying in my barrack, thank God I didn't have to share with anyone. It was pitch black outside besides Pandora's bioluminescent plants. Pandora was beautiful, stunning. I couldn't understand why the RDA felt compelled to ruin this damn planet. I was sketching a few of the plants I could see from my little window, minding my business till I seen an outline of a figure in the shadows, their form perfectly still in the shadows of this shitty base.

They, whether soldier or Na'Vi, seemed to be scoping the area out of the base and probably the people of the base. For a long, tense moment, I didn't see it move, but then slowly it started moving again, their movements slow and careful like they knew this base was a bunch of sleeping animals. The man, or woman, was approaching closer and closer to the base, and to my window. Inching closer and closer with cat-like patience.

I really hoped they would get closer to my window, it was easy to see it was a Na'vi scout. It crept closer and closer till they were Infront of my window, curse me for keeping a damn lamp on. The, or well, He tilted his head, probably curious as to why I haven't alerted anyone or something.

I grabbed my sketchbook, writing down, and then showing him a note written in the native Na'vi language. 'Ke'u sa'fe natives. Ku.' (Not safe for Natives. Go.)

For a moment, the male paused, yellow eyes glued to the note I had pressed along the window. A mix of surprise and confusion swirling in his eyes, as if he didn't expect me to be friendly and even warn him. The male went back to looking at me, not aggressively, instead he seemed to study me? I had no idea what he was thinking, but then his fingers brushed against the cool glass that separated us, as if he wasn't sure if there was a trap or not.

Fuck it, why not? I pressed my hand against the glass, resting it, wondering what next. He seemed a tad surprised, but he slowly pressed his much larger hand against the window over mine. I could feel the heat of ours between the glass.

"guys I do not condone any of this in real life" "this is fiction" "consent is key. this is only fiction" "murder is bad irl" — I wish fanfic authors didn't feel like they had to clarify this in author's notes or else they might be accused of being abusers or worse (I admit that such disclaimers are also something I personally use for my own stuff because I feel like I had to make it clear). like... people used to not care if an author wrote dead dove fics because people used to understand that ao3 fics are not a reflection of someone's in real life views or morality in any way. people used to understand that fanfics mean what they mean; fan fiction. none of it is real. maybe it's purity culture that normalizes witch hunt and censorship in the past couple years, and therefore authors feel like they have to clarify that just because they write about violence or noncon stuff doesn't mean they're murderers or sex offenders in real life. and I think it sucks that these things (purity and cancel culture?) have made authors feel like they have to apologize for the art they created instead of being proud of their hard work and all the dedication they put into creating these art. artists should not have to feel like they have to apologize for creating art that isn't all rainbow and sunshine. artists should not have to be made to feel ashamed of their own art if it's not all rainbow and sunshine.

I don’t agree with the “you can write noncon and dark fics as long as you make sure your readers get the message that these things are bad” or “you can write noncon and dark fics if it’s your way of coping with your trauma” take either. because writers do not owe you anything. the message writers want to send to their readers — whatever that message may be, if there’s any message or moral of the story for readers to take from the stories at all — is none of your business. why writers write what they write is none of your business. remember “don’t like don’t read”. no one forces you to read anything you don’t like. dark and noncon fics are a form of creative writing and creative writing is a form of art. you can’t pressure artists into creating art that “fit your moral compass” nor can you apply your own moral compass to artists to determine if they can create dark art or not, if their reasoning behind creating dark art passes your moral compass. like… what artists create and why artists create are none of your business. and you don’t get to shame artists for creating art that you hate / art that disgusts you. what you can do is ignore the art because it clearly was not made for you and that’s okay. what isn’t okay is you harassing artists because you don’t like the things they created.

writers, embrace and be proud of your works. as long as all the trigger warnings are tagged properly, you have nothing to apologize for.

what about Hobie dragging the reader to their apartment after a party and they're babbling and drunkenly hitting on Hobie, completely oblivious to the fact that he's their boyfriend

like "hey, handsome, can you give me your number?" COMING ON HE'S TRYING TO CHANGE YOU AND GET YOU TO BED IN YOUR HOME

I love your work btw

you inspire me to learn english better haha

Pick Up Line — Hobie x Reader

Notes: I wrote this before going to sleep 🫡 it is not proofread (I might do that tomorrow) writing this was so much fun, I only knew what I wanted to write in the beginning, and then I just let everything unfold on it’s own. I didn’t have a title for this until I finished it. I hope you like it!!

Man I have so many requests I’m sorry for posting one thing and then disappearing for months 😭 anyways, here’s the fic:

“No! Put me down! I have a boyfriend!” You groaned with a breathless sigh, feeling the heaviness of the booze weighting down on your body, most of all your mind.

Hobie chuckled as he carried you back to your apartment after one of those self destructive parties the darker alternative scene liked to throw every now and then.

“Oh, you do?” He chuckled with a cheeky tone as you hummed.

“Uh-huh. I do, and he’s the most handsomest, coolest motherfucker…” You replied and let your head fall onto his shoulder as he was carrying you as if you weighted nothing on his arms, with an arm holding your back and on the other your legs. “He’d kick your ass,”

“Oh, would he?” Hobie teased, raising an eyebrow, thinking it was insanely adorable how even on your state you talked so highly and proudly of him in your own way.

“Yup, certified badass shit,” You groaned. “I love him,”

He let out a deep chuckle as he gazed at you and turned on the corner, spotting your flat building a couple of blocks down.

“I’m pretty sure I could kick his ass,” Hobie said, trying to see how you’d react.

“In your dreams,” You sighed deeply.

As he approached your flat building and got inside, in your drunken state probably it would be best to avoid using his Spider-Man skills. You’d either puke, or start yelling that he’s Spider-Man and he wouldn’t risk it. On the bright side, you lived on the third floor.

As he stopped by your door, he gazed at you. “Can hold yourself up for a couple of seconds while I open the door, darlin’?” He asked you, as you giggled.

“Darlin’…” You giggled as you nodded and tried hopping off his arms as he let you down, and you leaned against the wall.

As you patted the pockets of your jacket, you found your keys and took them out as he gently took them off your hands and unlocked your apartment.

In your drunken haze, you started at him with a soft smile, taking in the details. The door squeaking open went unnoticed, your mind was too taken away by Hobie.

“Hey there handsome,” You sighed and closed your eyes. “What are you doing in my apartment?”

“You’re never gonna believe this,” He chucked as he gently grabbed your hand and pulled you in with him. “But I basically live here as well,” he chuckled.

It was partially true. He had his sailboat docked not far from there, but your apartment was wider, and every excuse to spend time with you, he’d take it right away. At this point he spent more nights crashing at your apartment than staying in his sailboat.

“God! What a small world!” You whispered as you let him guide you to your room.

“Isnt it?” He chuckled and as you got to your room, you let yourself collapse on the bed.

“Do you have a phone number I can borrow?” You asked with a cheeky tone, as Hobie chuckled and gazed at you as he looked in your wardrobe for your pyjamas.

Something in his chest squeezing with a sweet nostalgic feeling. It had been the exact same awful pick up line you’d used on him when you’d met him a couple of years ago. The rest was history, and now you were drunk in your apartment with your boyfriend taking care of you.

“What about your badass boyfriend?” He teased as he grabbed your pajama pants and sat on the edge of the bed and helped you take off your shoes.

“God, he’s so badass…I love him,” You sighed sleepily as you closed your eyes, as you slowly came to the realisation that he was taking off your shoes. “What are you doing? Buy me some coffee first,” you giggled with a soft snort.

“It’s too late to find a coffee shop open at this time, luv,” He chuckled and then took off your belt and undid your trousers.

At this point you were more asleep than awake and you let him take your pants off as you kept whining with playful banter. Both hitting on him and telling him about your badass boyfriend. As he managed to get you to put on your pyjama pants and remove everything last bit of uncomfortable accessories or clothes, he helped you get under the bedsheets.

He grabbed some water, aspirins and left them ready on the nightstand besides the bed, knowing the killer hangover you’d be having tomorrow. He then took off his boots, his vest, accessories and got on the bed with you in just his boxers and his t-shirt. By the time he did you were already lost in some dreamland and he simply snugged besides you and wrapped an arm around you before joining you in a deep sleep.

The next morning, he woke up to the sounds of your painful groaning and your husky voice saying:

“I’m never drinking that much ever again…I’m never drinking again, period…”

He opened his eyes, blinking several times before he finally processed your words He chuckled. “You always say that, luv…” He sighed and stared at you.

“Leave me alone…” You whined with a playful voice as you gulped down the water and the aspirins before collapsing on the bed again. “The last thing I remember is Karl and his boyfriend convincing me to do shots with them…”

“That was your mistake, you should know by this point those guys can drink their weight in booze,” He teased.

“I didn’t do anything stupid, did I?”

“You were about to let Mattea dye your hair in the bathroom in the middle of the party,” He explained, “and then ran off to the closest convenience store to try and buy bleach and hair dye…”

“Ah, fuck,”

“That’s when I thought maybe it was time to take you to bed,” He laughed softly. “So I brought you back,”

“Thanks, baby…” You whispered with a sheepish voice and kissed his skinny shoulder.

“You bragged to me the entire time about your boyfriend, by the way,” He teased.

“What?” You asked confused.

“And the proceeds to flirt with me and ask for my number…”

“Bullshit,” You groaned as you blushed softly, starting to remember some things about him carrying you back.

“You pulled out the same terrible pickup line you used the first time we met,” He giggled and looked at you from the corner of his eye.

“Oh my god…” You gasped, burying your face against the pillow in embarrassment. And after a brief silence you said: “did it work, though?” Your questions make Hobie laugh softly as he rolled to his side and looked at you, running his long slender fingers up your spine over the short.

“I’m here, am I not?” He replied with a soft velvet whisper.