#and Jack calls his crotch his Home Entertainment Center | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bookofmirth · 3 months

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Lele, I have a rambling though

We always have discussions about possibilities for SJM future books (especially acotar 5) and I always read interpretations that are done so very tastefully and with a lot of knowledge on text interpretation, book context and narratives

but the thing is… ppl always treat SJM as this super hiper mastermind and after HOFAS and how messy and not good it was (honestly it was terrible) … I’m a little afraid about acotar 5 and sjm choosing to go with the easiest way (which, for me, would be choosing Elriel - since with Gwyn she would have to treat her trauma her carefully and be more cautions on her narrative) and I don’t know if I see her doing it 😓

(Also… I would like to say as my last though of someone who is following her since 2018 - that SJM loves to write about powerful woman and the friendships between them and their bonds but to let the fandom be where it is today… young impressionable girls treating each other with such hostility and disrespect… I know she probably can’t say anything bc of contracts but man is a hard pillow to swallow that she “let” the fandom be where it is today… which is a horrible place.)

Anon, have some rambling thoughts of mine!!! hehehe

A big difference between acotar and hofas is how thoughtfully she generally treats the acotar characters. I've been thinking a lot about this the past few days and the main thing I dislike about hofas is how the plot and world building absolutely take over everything to the detriment of the characters. I cannot understate how much I dislike Bryce, and I've always pinpointed her lack of consistent values as the core reason why. hofas really, really emphasized that writing flaw. Not character flaw, but writing flaw.

People acting like sjm is some mastermind drives me crazy when we can see all the plot holes and inconsistencies and retcons. One of these days, someone should make a list of them. Anyway, she mentioned rereading the acotar series sometime last year, and I would bet you good money that she did so in order to see what she can use. She has said explicitly that she isn't great at world building and she has also said that she didn't plan the crossover until she was writing hosab. That means any connection we see between hofas and, for instance, acomaf, is a result of her going backwards to see what she can use. Not the other way around. She "planned" in the sense that she wrote really vague stuff in the first place so that she could use it how she wanted to later on. That has become really apparent to me with the crossover.

Like... for example, Mor's power is "truth". Vague as fuck, right? I would bet good money (again haha like I'm rich) that sjm didn't even know what that meant in acomaf other than "I need a reason for the mortal queens to trust Mor". And then she'll figure out the mechanics and technicalities later and the fandom will call her brilliant for it. *facepalm*

I don't see e*riel being easy at all. But that's all I will say about that hehe.

Gwyn's story aligns perfectly with what sjm has already been doing in acotar, with Rhys and Lucien, and to an extent Nesta. I don't have any concerns there because I think her strength is in her characterization. (CC is just... another beast.) There was an interview she did a while back where she talked about the movie Promising Young Woman and it really emphasized to me that sjm's particular brand of feminism revolves around gender and sex. This isn't a critique, just a statement of what I've observed. My point is that she is very aware of rape culture and has strong feelings about it and gives characters the space to heal on page, and so that's not really a concern of mine, especially in acotar.

To your final point, I got SO frustrated the other day in the group chat, @sabrinasam said it was the most frustrated she's ever seen me haha. I'm so tired of sjm and the publisher being coy about this!!!! But mostly, I am so, so sick of people in this fandom treating each other like shit just because they don't agree on ships. Like it's one thing to have notps and brotps and to be annoyed by or even hate certain characters. It's a completely different thing when people feel totally comfortable going out in public and treating other actual, real, human people like absolute garbage because of those feelings.

Azriel is never gonna lick your fucking home entertainment center!!! Get the fuck over it!!!!!!!!!

I don't think that sjm is at fault for this because I think that people are responsible for their own actions. I also fully believe that the people taking screenshots and mocking them publicly (of people who probably have them blocked anyway, fucking stalkers) or just outright attacking people on different platforms would be doing that exact same thing whether it was about sjm or not. Like you could just stick them in another fandom, and these people would act the same deplorable way.

Anyway. I'm fucking tired. I'm still excited for acotar5 and will continue that series and when I was doing a lil voice chat with my friends for hours last weekend it revived my enjoyment of acotar and ToG. The fandom just makes it a lot of work, trying to have fun.

#I was watching Will and Grace the other day #and Jack calls his crotch his Home Entertainment Center #I repurposed that joke because I laughed so hard #antielriel #ask #anon #hofas #hofas spoilers #acotar #fandom wank #acotar fandom #sjm critical

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i-literally-cant-with-this · 8 months

Text

A/N = Some plot. I know you think Cable Guy Sanemi. But it's - ok, it might be exactly what you're thinking.

C/W = P->V, oral (both ways), language, drinking, bj follow through persuasion, just general sex. Idk. If I missed any warnings or spelled something in an unacceptable way, please let me know.

NSFW // MDNI UNDER THE CUT

Full Package

It was 4:45 in the afternoon. There was a knock at your door.

"Fucking better be the cable guy. I swear to god. These assholes ..." you complained the whole way to your door, even a little bit after you opened it. "... Keeping me ... fucking ... ffffuuckk. Hi, you're uh, oh my God."

The overly attractive man with white and messy hair smiled at you with his perfect teeth. His lavender eyes bore into yours. You felt like an idiot for gawking at him. And if he said anything about how silly you're being, you'd just hold a mirror in front of his gorgeous face and tell him to change your mind.

"I'm Sanemi, are you ready to get hooked up?"

You damn near choked on your own saliva.

"Your cable and internet? Can I please come in and hook them up for you?" He gestured with his right hand to be let in.

"OH! Yes, *aheh*," you cleared your throat as he walked by you. He. Smelled. Like. Sex. Not the after sex, but the before sex. When you get all cleaned up for your partner and you're all freshy fresh and nothing in the world smells better than you at that moment in time before you get all sweaty and covered in the other person's juices (which has it's own appeal, but the before sex, there's just something about being so clean together for a minute).

"C-can I offer you something?" You chewed on the tip of your index finger as you stared at his ass while he bent over the entertainment center looking for the cable jack.

Too deep in focus to notice he'd turned around and is now looking at you looking at his crotch.

A tiny string of spit dribbles down your mouth as you sigh. Daydreaming about what his cock would taste like.

"What do you have?" He smiled, clearly not affected by your blatant sexual harassment. It's only harassment if they don't like it, right?

"Hm?" You blinked lazily and met his eyes, almost cumming on the spot. God, he's gorgeous. "OH! What do I have, what do I have? I don't know. Why don't you follow me into the kitchen and we'll look together?"

Sanemi nodded, "Lead the way," he shuffled through the paperwork, looking for something, before he put it down on the arm of the overstuffed chair, "Y/n." And he smiled. It was a little dark, the look on his face. And you were here for it.

"Ok, I have ... ugh. I need to go grocery shopping. I have juice. But you're not a child, right? You're over 18? I MEAN, you just probably wouldn't like juice."

He smirked at your inquiry and tilted his head to the left as he nodded slowly.

"I'm 21. Old enough to drink whatever I want. Young enough to not know better."

"Ahh-ha! Ok, good to know. Well, you just help yourself to whatever you want. Think of this as your home for as long as it takes to get me ... plugged. IN. The cable. As long as it takes ..." You looked at him like he was a nice cut of steak.

He winked at you.

It took everything in you not to slide a hand up your shirt and stroke your nipple under your bra.

Sanemi walked over to the cabinet you pointed at and opened it, revealing the wide array of liquors and alcohol that had collected over time. He rummaged around before emerging with a bottle of vodka and giving you the universal sign for having to make a phone call.

You gave him a thumbs up and wandered over to the living room while you waited for him to finish his talking.

"Yeah, I'm not coming back in today. But I'll be working on Y/n L/n's place. It's going to be really hard to get the wires stripped like I need to. The setup, it's looking pretty fucked. I'm going to have to screw around to make it do what I need it to do. Yeah, just tell him I'll be in on Monday. Ok, thanks {name}."

You heard everything he said and you asked after he'd hung up, "Everything ok?"

He poured two glasses, handing one to you as he came closer, slyly holding up the bottle of vodka, "Yep, perfect. Here ya go. Better to drink this with no ice."

You sat on the couch as he joined you, placing the bottle on the table between the couch and the TV.

You both took long sips. Looking at you, Sanemi took off his button up shirt and throwing it across the room.

"You mind if I get a little comfy? It's hot in here."

Your eyes couldn't leave the tiny droplet of sweat that rolled down his pecs onto his tight abs. You imagined licking it off.

"What movie are we watching?" Sanemi smirked, the dim lighting of the tv making the lines in his cheeks dance.

"Mmm, w-what?" You don't know why you were being so stupid. It's like there wasn't a single brain cell left in your head.

He hummed and chuckled, "Hmm. Nothin', babe." He finished off his glass and turned to face you on the couch. His bare torso on display, making you so wet.

"You're beautiful." You sighed as your head fell back against the couch.

"Oh yeah?" He whispered as he leaned forward, kissing you like he already knew how good he was at it. It wasn't messy or dirty. He was gentle. And as you moaned, you felt his smile on your lips. He must've known how he affected you. It was pretty obvious, anyway.

He worked off his black jeans, reaching into his boxer-briefs and squeezing his cock, "Oh my God, I'm so hard, fuck. What should I do about this? It's a sin to waste a fat, hard cock, you know?"

Your chest heaved as you watched him slowly rub his hand over the bulge in his underwear. You were so turned on tears were forming in your eyes. You could have been struck with lightning at that moment and died a happy woman.

He crawled on top of you, pulling his underwear down and revealing his perfect, thick, cock.

You licked your lips, "Oohhh, shit."

Sanemi grinned and took the one sip of his drink to finish it off before pulling yours out of your grip and taking a swig of that.

"Need a little lubrication." He chuckled as he sloshed it back and forth.

You eyed him, "Are you ..."

He held his hand to your mouth, "Don't tell me you want me stop? Babe. You want to see this monster? You gotta work for it." He smirked.

You leaned towards his crotch and grabbed his length, gently sucking the skin of the tip, the bulbous head feeling so soft against your tongue.

You took a few slow licks before he moaned, "That's it, suck on the tip. Let it coat your whole mouth."

His moans vibrated your whole core as you devoured his cock. "Fuck yeah. Just like that, baby. Just like that."

His fingers toyed with your nipples under your shirt as you bobbed up and down his thick, throbbing shaft. The precum was addictive.

He pushed on your head a little, "Here, stick your tongue out."

You did as he said and stuck your tongue out a little ways.

"Good girl. Open wide now." Sanemi smiled as he rammed his entire cock in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. You were careful with your teeth as he started fucking your face.

"Yeah, there we go. Your throat feels fucking amazing. I might cum quick if you keep this up."

You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked and sucked. You tried to pull back but he gripped your scalp and kept you in place, "Shhh, just take it." He moaned.

You loved hearing him moan for you. It made your clit throb and drip into your pants.

You pushed your hand down your yoga pants, fingering yourself while he fucked your mouth.

"Fuck yes, I love the sight of you touching yourself. Such a filthy little bitch. Oohhh shit. Fuck."

Sanemi groaned, pushing on the back of your head with more intensity as he plunged deeper and deeper into your mouth, feeling your throat contract around his cock as you gagged.

You pumped your fingers in and out of your soaking pussy, so close to cumming all over your hand.

But Sanemi stopped and grabbed your waist, lifting you up and sliding your pants down.

"No. Panties? You a frequent commando flyer? Tell me, did you know I was coming out to your place today? Was this decision made on my behalf? Fucking dirty little brat."

You couldn't pass a 3rd grade spelling test right now, you were so drunk on him. So you just smiled pretty and hoped he'd stop talking.

He spread your pussy lips apart and plunged two fingers inside as he licked your clit like a fucking expert.

"Holy shit," you whispered, rubbing the sides of your tits as you fucked back against his face.

"Your little clit looks hungry, I'll give it something to fill up on." He smiled, biting it gently before giving it a hard suck, sending you bucking and shuddering all over his face. His hair was the only thing that kept you upright. You had no idea how hard you pulled it, but Sanemi didn't complain.

You were panting as he finished you off, "I'm going to fuck your brains out, y/n." He whispered into your ear. You damn near came again at just how good his breath felt.

You couldn't wait. Your eyes rolled back at the relief you felt knowing he was about to tuck himself into your cunt. "Oh God, yes. P-please, Sanemi. Fuck me."

His hands gripped your hips so hard as he plunged himself inside of you. "Shit, you're so tight. How are you this fucking tight."

You pulled his white and messy hair hard and thrust yourself onto his cock, feeling every inch of him deep in you. "Mmmfuck! Yes, Sanemi!"

His thumbs were in your mouth now, fucking you just how you liked. You flicked the tip of his finger and watched the grin form on his beautiful face, "Mhm, you know what to do to that tongue, huh? Do you want to make me feel so good I can't stand? I'll cum deep in your little cunt. Mhmmm, yes I will."

Your tongue twitched against his thumb as his other hand massaged your clit. "That's it, cum for me, cum for me." He sped up his pace, slamming himself into you.

Your pussy clenched as you felt your orgasm approach. The pressure mounting. And then it hit. Hard. "Yes, fuck yes. Shit, Sanemiiii!" Your thighs were shaking so hard you were afraid you wouldn't be able to keep up, but he never let you falter.

As you were on the other side of your orgasm, he flipped you over on your back, "My turn."

You gripped his forearms as he slammed into you.

"You take my cock so well. Who knew your little hole was hiding such a talent?" He smirked, tucking his sweaty bangs behind his ears.

"Oh, right there. Don't stop. Fuck, oh my God. Don't stop."

He threw you a flirty wink, "Wouldn't dream of it."

You cried out as you came again, your clit was sore and sensitive from his sucking but somehow he managed to rub it just the right way to bring you to another one so quickly.

Sanemi kept his thrusts even, working you through your second orgasm while bringing himself to his.

You pulled him by the neck and crashed your lips to his as he spurted his hot, creamy cum deep in you.

After a few moments of panting, Sanemi looked up at the TV, "Whoops, you ordered a porn. How was it?"

You shook your head and laughed, "No, no. This right here was a freebie."

He smiled, running his hand through your sweaty hair, "Forget the porn. Let's fuck the day away. I don't even know if my dick can work that hard anymore, but I'm willing to try if you are. Plus I gotta wait until Monday before I can come back out." He pouted.

He didn't have to wait until Monday before coming back. Every time he "forgot" some papers at your house, he'd fuck your brains out. After the job was done, he just didn't have any more work to come back and do at your house. But you sure as hell saw him on Friday and Saturday and even a few times on Sunday.

"Ya know, we could try the whole dating thing if you want. Might make me show up on weekdays just as often, especially if my dick is doing all the walking." He leaned back against the couch and put his hands behind his head.

"Yeah. That might work."

And it did. A lot. Sanemi wasn't the best at keeping his word, but his dick never failed to follow through on a promise. So there was that.

#sanemi shinazugawa #kny s shinazugawa #demon slayer kny sanemi #demon slayer #demon slayer sanemi shinazugawa #demon slayer smut #sanemi smut #sanemi shinazugawa smut #kny smut #sanemi kny smut #cableguy!sanemi

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thirsty-x1 · 4 years

Text

Cheese & Wine | Kim Wooseok

Request:

could i request a dom!wooseok scenario where u go out to a fancy dinner to celebrate something w the members and u have a little fun w wooseok under the table making him angry and he punishes u later at home 🥴😉 i love ur writing thank u so much🥺

↬ Pairing: Wooseok x fem!reader

↬ Genre: Smut.

↬ Warnings: explicit language, dirty talking, masturbation, hair pulling, master!Wooseok, orgasm denial, oral sex (blowjob), protected sex.

↬ Word Count: 3k

↬ Song Recommendation: “Cheese & Wine” by DPR Live.

Boredom lurked in your mind as you played with your food, your head starting to hurt at all the incessant chatting that surrounded you. Being with Wooseok’s members was fun, but not so much when the night out meant a company dinner, with a setting that was beyond “fancy”, making you feel slightly uncomfortable and you could notice it caused the same in some of the other boys. You started tapping the floor with your shoe slightly, procuring earning your boyfriend’s attention with the small noise but he wasn’t affected by it, instead he kept talking animatedly with one of the employees sitting in front of him.

Carefully, you placed your hand on his thigh, his head turning to you only as he noticed it sliding upwards and resting on the inner side of his leg. His response wasn’t as entertaining as you had hoped for, a severe look and a cheeky smirk was all he gave you before holding your hand and bringing it up to his mouth to kiss the back of it in a swift motion. The gesture might have looked sweet in foreign eyes, but it was a light warning that meant “do not do that again”.

It was always like this with him: silent and subtle interactions, his love always shown through small details that only he could catch, and rarely ever raising his voice with you. If you had to describe his way of loving, it would be warm and comforting, it simply felt like being at home, and although it was a wonderful feeling, sometimes it got boring, like now. You had never tested what were Wooseok’s limits, but tonight was a night that merited new experiences.

For the second time in the night, you slid your hand on his leg, this time not stopping at the first glance he threw at you and instead kept going until you reached his crotch. However, he still maintained his composure and calm, letting out a scoff but quickly shutting up as you pressed a bit, massaging his member with discrete movements until you could feel it getting hard. His hands gripped the border of the table, trying to stabilize his breathing while closing his eyes until another of the members called him.

He didn’t stop you this time though, continuing the dinner as if there was nothing going on under the table. You decided to do the same, after all the thrill was still exciting and wanted to discover how far you could push his boundaries. Grabbing your glass, you drank the liquor in it, suddenly feeling Wooseok’s eyes on you which you took as an opportunity to get close and softly moan in his ear how much you wanted his cock while your fingers worked on lowering the zipper of his pants. Your boyfriend didn’t seem to be affected by it, simply letting you continue before he gave you a sweet smile, reprimanding you loudly in front of everyone.

“It’s bad education to whisper in the table, why don’t you say it for everyone to hear?”

The weight of everyone staring made you freeze on the spot, your cheeks getting redder and your hand stopping its movements wrapped around him. Of course he had something planned out, the embarrassment only letting you giggle nervously and shake your head a few times until everyone continued with their own businesses. Bothered, you looked at Wooseok, his posture extremely relaxed as he tried to hide his smirk while drinking his glass. You gripped his length harshly making him choke, some of the liquid spilling on the corner of his mouth and continuing down his neck. Pretending to be worried, you took a napkin and started cleaning it, seizing the chance to jack him off abruptly, enjoying the way he threw his head back as if to allow you to dry it when in reality he was trying to not let out any sound.

Seeing the way he clenched his teeth was enough to indicate that he was close to the edge, so you let go of him, fixing his clothes and going back to your place not without placing a kiss on his cheek. You didn’t turn to see how he reacted to it, and it was probably for the better.

The rest of the night moved on swiftly, Wooseok didn’t try to talk to you and you didn’t either, simply interacting with the members when they asked something to you and with the staff if they asked for a favor. In the end, everyone said their goodbyes and you found yourself in your boyfriend’s car, but there wasn’t any kind of tension in the atmosphere. It made you feel slightly disappointed, maybe because you were waiting for him to say something, or at least a bit of awkwardness that showed something was going to happen later, but none of it was there.

But as soon as you entered the shared apartment, everything changed. He let you in first, as usual, but when he closed the door it simply felt different. The lights remained turned off, his eyes burning on your back, his steps causing you to feel more and more nervous until his arms embraced you, pressing his raging hard on against your ass at the same time as he left a trail of kisses on the back of your neck.

“Did you really think I wasn’t going to do anything about it?” The low tone in his voice sent shivers down your spine.

“No…”

“Then you were expecting to be punished? Hm? Is that what you wanted?” His delicate fingers slid the straps of your dress as he bit on the skin of your shoulder. “Is that why you ignored all of my warnings?”

You knew that he wanted answers, but the feeling of his hands travelling up your inner thighs and getting under your dress, avoiding your center on purpose made it hard to form a coherent thought. His breath impacted on every bit of your skin as he inhaled your scent, the perfume making him smile before he stepped away from you.

“Why–”

“Shut up.” His tone was serious, causing you to turn around quickly. “Undress for me now.”

Electricity filled your whole system, feeling dazed at the sudden loss of contact, but you quickly complied to his request, letting the dress fall and pool around your heels. He hummed in approval, circling around you as if he were examining his prey. His silence made you feel impatient, shifting your weight under his gaze.

“What else do I have to do?”

He waited another minute before replying. “Didn’t I tell you to keep quiet?” You clenched your fists at his harsh tone. “Go to the room.” As soon as you turned around, he scoffed. “I meant to crawl to the bedroom, on all fours.”

All color drained of your face. He had never asked you to do anything like that, and just now you were feeling that the consequences for your previous actions might be worse than what you expected. Following his orders, you got on your hands and knees, hissing at the contact of the cold floor and starting to crawl as he followed close behind you, and you couldn’t help the temptation to move your hips slower, feeling satisfied when you heard him halt. However, you quickly regretted it as he gripped your hair delicately, not exerting any force into dragging you to the bedroom.

When you finally got there, your knees hurt slightly but you held back the need to rub them, instead opting to wait for his next instructions. He stood in front of you, his grip still firm as he got closer to you, his free hand caressing the side of your face before slipping his thumb past your lips, ordering you to suck on it.

“Do you want my cock, doll?” You whimpered around his finger at the explicit question, swirling your tongue around his digit. “Hmm, seems like now you are behaving… but it’s too late.”

Before he completely let go, you grabbed his leg, fisting the fabric of his pants and pressing your cheek dangerously close to his groin. “Please. Please, I will do anything, I’m so sorry…”

Wooseok didn’t seem moved by your actions at all, instead staring at you coldly. “You challenged me. You ignored me, continued to tease me in front of anyone…” His fingers gripped your chin harshly, making you wince. “And didn’t even answer to my question.”

Frustration started to build up inside of you, your gut already clenching with need. “I am so sorry, Master.” The name rolled of your tongue naturally, your eyes pleading.

“Hmm, I think you will have to demonstrate it.” A moan escaped your lips as you felt the tip of his shoe press against your covered core, your hips grinding down on it trying to chase any kind of friction.

“I can be good! I will do anything you ask for, please, please…”

He raised an eyebrow. “Please what, kitten?”

“Please… let me please you, Master.”

That seemed to do something, although it wasn’t quite what you had in mind. Wooseok sat on the bed, leaving you in the floor as he crossed his legs, resting his chin on his hand while staring at you with a smug smirk, enjoying the way you trembled in anticipation.

“Touch yourself for me. I want you to follow each single instruction I give, if you don’t, I will not allow you to cum.”

You nodded eagerly, lying on your back trying to not mind about the freezing wood on your skin and spreading your legs for him, keeping your hands at your sides. Few seconds later, he started speaking, your breathing getting quicker with each command: feeling up your breasts, caress your stomach and inner thighs, pinch your nipples, rub yourself over your underwear, but never allowing you direct contact. It was driving you crazy, not knowing just how much of his teasing you could endure before bursting.

“I could see you dripping when you were crawling.” The detail caught your attention, eyes locking with his but he kept the same calm expression as before. “I bet you want to touch your dripping cunt so bad.”

It was new and exciting. Listening to him talk like that, when you were used to his silent orders, or simply to him taking everything into his own hands with nothing more than a few pants and grunts here and there, and he knew just how much power it had over you. A few seconds went before he repeated himself, making it clear that he was demanding an answer.

“I really want to touch myself…” The embarrassment that you felt on the table before was nothing compared to having to admit your own needs right now, your pleading voice resonating in the room.

“How would you do it?” Was he planning on making you combust right there? “Tell me and I might let you do it.”

Taking a deep breath, you began. “I w-would circle my clit... spreading my wetness all over my slit…” You closed your eyes, your fingers hooking on the band of your panties as if to keep them still. “I would put one finger in, but it’s not enough… slip another in… stretching myself for…” Your breath hitched just from imagining it.

“For what, kitten?” His voice tingled your skin, and when you opened your eyes, Wooseok was right in front of you.

“For your cock.”

With a soft nod, he gave you permission and you wasted no time in following the steps you did before, the sound of your juices filling the room each time you fingered your hole. His eyes stared at your core hungrily, making you drip even more, a moan leaving your lips as he decided to insert one of his fingers along with yours, the slight pain making you feel dizzy.

“Which feels better, princess? Your fingers?” As he said that, he pulled out your digits and replaced them with his. “Or mine?”

Your back arched as he pressed them upwards. “Yours! Yours, Wooseok, yours…”

His low chuckle made you suspect. “You look so pathetic right now, baby, all putty on my fingers… It didn’t take much to have you like this, yet you teased me for a whole half an hour there.” That being said, he left you feeling empty before making you taste your own wetness. “Leaving me hard, not even finishing the job… Why should I let you cum?”

Not a single coherent reason crossed your mind, he was right after all, and both knew there was only one way for you to repay him. At your lack of response, he stood up, his hands quickly working on his belt and unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his pale skin and lowering his pants and underwear enough to take out his throbbing length. You were still clenching, aching to be touched again, but this was punishment and you knew you wouldn’t get what you wanted unless you worked for it.

With some effort, you were able to get on your knees, the discomfort making its way through you once again. Wooseok stroked himself a few times, twisting his wrist at the tip and spreading the leaking precum before tapping it on your lips, suggesting you to open your mouth. You obeyed, taking out your tongue and he slid in one thrust, gasping as he felt you gagging when he reached the back of your throat.

“Ha… you always take me so well, did you know?” His praising words made you look up, the tears welling up in your eyes as you tried to hold back your gag reflex. “You do baby, and you look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock too.”

His pace was excruciatingly slow, turning you conscious of the weight of his dick on your tongue, of the slight bitter taste of his precum, of the way his tip rubbed on the inside of your cheek before he angled it up again to shove it down your throat. His grip was hard unlike other times, every now and then forcing you to keep it all inside before letting go, allowing you to take some air before repeating the whole thing again.

Intoxicating, that is the word that would describe your current thoughts now. It was intoxicating to see him get this dominant, it was intoxicating to be completely under his control, it was intoxicating to see the way his gaze darkened with each tear that fell down your cheeks only for him to wipe them away and continue. You had crossed the limits without even being aware of it, but he was making sure you knew your place now, showing you a complete new side of him without caring what you were going to think about it, and everything about it was absolutely raw.

Not too long after, you felt his member twitch and he quickly pulled you off, smirking at the saliva dripping down the corner of your lips. He helped you get up, the small act filled with love as he put you on the bed and carefully took off your underwear. You whined as you noticed him grabbing a condom, and he laughed out loud again.

“What?”

“Wasn’t I good?” You struggled to let out your voice, your jaw aching after his rough treatment.

He seemed to consider it. “Yes, you were good…” His fingers skillfully slid the condom on his hard on. “But you still don’t deserve to have my cum inside you. This is still your punishment, kitten.”

Before you could complain, he thrust into you aggressively, your walls hugging him tightly but that didn’t hold him back at all, snapping with all the pent up anger and frustration inside of him. You couldn’t keep your voice down, your moans and whimpers being louder with each second that passed, getting cut whenever he buried himself deep in you.

“W-Wooseok…”

“Don’t tell me you want to cum…” You had to close your eyes to avoid the intensity of his gaze, his mocking voice getting slightly high pitched. “Aw, you want to cum really bad, don’t you? Look how much you are shaking…”

The humiliation was too much, extending your hands to hold his shoulders and bringing him closer, and there must have been something in the way you looked at him or the silent pleas that fell of your lips, because his whole demeanor softened as he kissed you for the first time in the night. It was tender and sweet, his hands holding your waist as he deepened the kiss, sucking on your tongue. The time felt unreal, everything slowing down as he made you focus only on the way he felt, his skin and warmth against you, how he filled you, his pants against your mouth, hypnotizing you to the extent where you forgot your own needs.

“Cum for me, babygirl, you can do it… just this once… do it for me, yes?”

He didn’t need to repeat himself, the knot on the bottom of your bottom unleashing as you felt your orgasm hit you through multiple waves after being denied for so long. A few thrusts later, Wooseok stilled his movements, spilling into the condom as he hid his face on the crook of your neck, peppering it with kisses when he recovered.

“Thank you…” Your whisper was barely audible, but he giggled anyway.

“Was it good?” Your weak nod warmed him up. “If I had known you were into this, I would have done it long ago.”

As he snuggled into your chest, you hugged him. “So I had to test your limits to know this side of you?”

“Mhmm…” The contrast between him a few seconds ago and how he was now purring at you playing with his hair was almost comical. “This was a nice punishment, though.”

I wasn’t expecting this to be this long but;;; guess my brain missed to write smutty Wooseok owo.

~Nani

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How Women, Tech Took Over Porn: Inside the 2018 AVN Awards

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How Women, Tech Took Over Porn: Inside the 2018 AVN Awards

From #MeToo to cam stars, this year’s Oscars of the obscene showcased the future of porn

Here’s a Black Mirror pitch: You pay several hundred dollars to attend the world’s biggest porn convention and awards ceremony. You travel to Las Vegas, where the air has transformed into mentholated nicotine vapor and no one will validate your parking. You do this in order to meet porn stars in the flesh, to see them onstage celebrating the Oscars of the obscene, because – even though, according to Scientific American, half of us are now creating our own sexual content on our personal devices – there’s something superhuman about sexual celebrities.

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But when you arrive at the convention, in place of your 1990s dream of impossibly proportioned stars in bedazzled Lycra posing for Polaroids, what you see is a 15,000-square-foot hall teeming with hundreds of beautiful, semi-clothed models of all shapes and styles, grinning into their laptops. You try to talk to a young woman in heart-shaped pasties and booty shorts, but she’ll only give you a few seconds of attention before she’s back to clicking her shiny gold nails across her keyboard.

Here’s the twist: This ain’t no dystopian nightmare. Attendees of the 35th Annual Adult Entertainment Expo and Adult Video News Awards were treated to precisely this display of tech-mediated intimacy. Plenty of big names were in attendance – stars who had led more traditional adult-film careers – but they were outnumbered by scores of up-and-coming models who primarily built their own businesses using cam shows, original clip stores and monetized social-media platforms. The mass availability of easily pirated streaming video may have decimated the porn economy, but it seems that women are the ones adapting, finding fresh ways to connect directly with consumers. As these models gain more economic influence, they are also raising the bar for consent conversations throughout the industry.

The last time I was at the AVNs was in 2012, when I was nominated for producing and directing a niche site called QueerPorn.TV. My Bay-Area scene was proud to think of ourselves as the forward-thinking weirdos, exemplifying the characteristics of the queer porn genre: body-positive and diverse, with a riot-grrrl aesthetic. We were nominated in the somewhat self-contradicting category Best Professional Amateur Site, and were miffed when we lost to Clips4Sale, a platform which had been around since 2003 for creators to upload and sell short original videos. Here we were, indie smut with a vision, and we lost to a tech host?

Now, it seems as clear as a Bellagio fountain that clips stores were the future of “professional amateurs.” While much of the male-dominated porn studio system is fighting against stolen content, independent female artists have been able to establish a sustainable business, producing their own content and marketing it to a small but loyal fan base.

One such artist is Bratty Nikki, a leggy, half-Mexican, half-Irish woman with a frosty reality-TV aesthetic: blonde extensions, impossible nails, skin-tight miniskirts and designer spiked heels. She sat on a gleaming white couch in an enormous booth on the expo floor, calling attention to her shirt, which read; “Never underestimate the power of a girl who knows what she wants.”

“Never underestimate the power of a girl who knows what she wants,” says Bratty Nikki. Roger Kisby for Rolling Stone

Nikki is the executive vice president of IWantEmpire.com, an umbrella company that includes IWantClips, IWantPhone, IWantFanClub and IWantCustomClips, with more in the works. Hers is one of many companies vying for dominance in a sort of clips market arms race. Nikki got her start seven years ago working as an online financial dominatrix, offering phone and cam sessions to clients in which she expressed a personality she tells me isn’t really a character. “I am a greedy brat,” she says. “I believe that I deserve the best out of life. My fans love that I’m confident enough to say, ‘This is what I want and you’re gonna give it to me.'”

She started IWantEmpire with her husband, entrepreneur Jay Phillips, because she felt other host sites were underestimating her as an artist. Like other platforms, they take a cut of the profits, but the artist sets their own price and decides what and how much they want to upload. Their brand expanded to offer a store for consumers to order custom clips, and a fan club where artists can monetize social media-like “lifestyle” content. As it turns out, kinky consumers are willing to pay for content created by people who understand precisely what they’re looking for.

Like many fetish clips, Nikki’s videos don’t include sex or even nudity, just specialty monologues in which she teases, chastises and degrades her devotees. In the larger-than life video projected over us in the booth, she wore skinny jeans and a tank top, standing in an apartment entryway holding shopping bags. “Yes, I’m leaving you,” she spits at the camera with an exaggerated eye roll. “I’ve already maxed out your credit cards. Taken a bunch of vacations with my girlfriends that you paid for. You’re going to be sitting home alone tonight crying into your pillow as you hate-jerk your little cock.”

The audacity of financial domination is a perfect fit for naturally bossy women. Haven, a Haitian-American dominatrix from Orlando, says that when she was go-go dancing and camming she didn’t take direction from clients very well. When she discovered that she could make fetish clips online, it was a way for her to make a career off her genuine demeanor. “I really don’t want to talk to you; I really just want your money,” she deadpans. “That’s me, wholeheartedly.” Now she films around 15 short clips every Sunday, improvising on topics like small-penis humiliation or jack-off instruction. She spends the rest of the week editing footage, scheduling uploads, writing marketing copy and promoting her brand on social media.

Fans mill about the floor of the AEE. Roger Kisby for Rolling Stone

“It takes a lot of work to make this look so easy,” she says.

I tagged along to an afternoon of clip shoots at a local film studio run by porn director/performers Madeline Marlowe and Will Havoc. Havoc was pulling a red and black leather harness over his tattooed chest, preparing to shoot sex scenes with two porn stars named Riley Nixon and Arabelle Raphael.

Riley, who was nominated for Best New Starlet at the AVNs, wiggled into a canary-yellow latex two-piece and platform heels. As she filled out her legal paperwork, she kept squatting and yanking on the rubbery crotch of her outfit. Even though she was following a conventional route to adult film fame, signing at the Penthouse booth and shooting for notorious gonzo studio Elegant Angel, she also sold Skype shows, custom clips and signed Polaroids on her personal website. She would post today’s footage on her own ManyVids and OnlyFans pages, where fans can pay a monthly membership for access to exclusive content.

One advantage to making her own content is that she has more leeway to maintain her preferred androgynous style and buzzed head – some mainstream studios still won’t cast models with short hair or tattoos. “I’ll wear a wig to play a character, but I don’t want to have to wear a wig to play the role of a woman,” she complains.

Arabelle has had to deal with her own hair troubles in the industry. She’s a French-Persian Jew, and long ago grew tired of being expected to straighten her hair and use skin-lightening makeup to work with certain directors.

“I was being cast in really racist roles,” she says, “and basically told I was not good enough.” She took time off to build her own membership site, a Clips4Sale store, and an OnlyFans following, discovering unprecedented financial and emotional success. “I had no idea I was a good performer and that people wanted more content of me,” she says. “I left my hair curly, got as many tattoos as I wanted, shot with who I wanted.”

Riley, Arabelle and Will showed one another the results of their standard STI tests on the secure Performer Availability Scheduling Services database. They negotiated sexual boundaries and preferences while doing their own costuming and makeup. With low production cost and the creative advantage of working with friends, they’re each an individual porn studio unto themselves.

Will Havoc, Riley Nixon and Arabelle Raphael film a scene after hours. Roger Kisby for Rolling Stone

Porn stars work hard and party hard, and sometimes they work while they’re playing. Late that night, I was invited to a private sex party with a hard-to-obtain address. A Lyft took me away from the light pollution of the strip to an edge of town tract housing development. Through the unfurnished living room, past an ominously neon-lit pool, was a warehouse filled with porn stars smoking blunts and offering one another bumps in their rhinestone-encrusted nails.

Hired stars ascended to a sort of wrestling platform in the center of the room, performing exaggerated lubed-up sex for onlookers to the rhythm of deafening drone metal. My friends, a polyamorous “family,” decided to find a quieter room in which to play. As I enjoyed a beer and watched sex-worker activist Siouxsie Q fuck her curly-haired boyfriend Michael Vegas, an AVN nominee for Best Supporting Actor – as her Barbie-blonde pro-domme girlfriend Bella Bathory was eaten out in a nearby chair – it occurred to me that we were doing exactly what porn fans assumed we must be doing. I felt like I had ringside seats to watch NBA superstars play a pick-up game.

As the four-day convention wore on, the all-night partying didn’t threaten to slow anyone down. The AEE still makes the classic circuit demands of conventional porn stars, each scheduled to appear for three- to five-hour shifts, where they were to sign and sell eight-by-10 glossies, allow hands around their waists and shoulders, smile, twerk, tell fans how their favorite position is still reverse cowgirl, princess wave, talk to men like they’re babies, talk to men like they’re dogs. But it was the cam models who had the boundless energy, who behaved like Vine stars or friends at a slumber party that just happens to be surveilled. They hovered over their screens, promising to spank one another in exchange for tips; the ding of virtual tokens being earned echoed the slots at the nearby casino.

The models had each brought their own laptops, colorfully branded with their stage names. Most of them had elaborate production rigs including flattering ring lights, bulky webcams and phallic microphones. Cam models perform all kinds of explicit shows when they broadcast from their homes; but, due to city-wide nudity laws, they couldn’t wear less than pasties and a thong at AEE. That meant no dildo shows or live sex. Yet their chirpy conversation still had value for the members watching from home, some of whom had actually financed the travel for their favorite model.

Performers at the FreeCams booth. Roger Kisby for Rolling Stone

At the booth for the webcam company Chaturbate, both men and women were making cameos on one another’s screens. This seemed to be in defiance of the porn convention that objects of desire should be separated, lest a consumer’s taste be offended or boner deflated by something they weren’t expecting to see.

A male model named Leon with One-Direction hair and powder-blue briefs explained to me that one of his online fans had just told him he was enjoying watching all the broadcasts because, “It’s like seeing all of the characters from my favorite TV shows in a crossover episode!”

I approached a group of giggling young camgirls in pastel-colored wigs. They were teasing a group of bystanders, telling them to tune in to their group cam show later that night “to see some real action.”

I asked them if they were hoping that in future years they’d be as famous as the porn stars in the Wicked or Evil Angel booths? Did they want everyone to know their names?

One of the models shook her head vigorously, making her unicorn-horn headband wobble. “The more famous you get,” she pointed out, “the more people will pirate your content.”

Her friend, who was wearing a mesh leotard with skeleton hands covering her nipples, agreed: “We make more money when only our fans know who we are.”

MyFreeCams performer Lil Miss Angel at the 2018 AEE. Roger Kisby for Rolling Stone

With the national conversation surrounding #MeToo, it was no surprise that the sex workers at AEE were ready to address the topics of harassment and bodily autonomy. Members of the Adult Performer Advocacy Committee (APAC) handed out colorful “What Is Consent?” flyers, which illustrated how consent is “informed” and “freely given,” and that it “can be revoked at any time.”

For the second year in a row, every single convention attendee – fans and exhibitors alike – was required to sign a Code of Conduct form that outlined, for example, the difference between a consensual public picture and a violation such as an upskirt.

The Code of Conduct described a zero-tolerance policy towards “stalking, unwelcome physical contact” and “offensive verbal assaults,” emphasizing that guests were “welcome to use the restroom that match their gender presentation or identity.” This last stipulation was especially welcome from the trans community attending the awards, as two years ago several performers accused Hard Rock security guards of disrespecting a gender non-conforming attendee.

Some participants were aware of ways they could make their models more comfortable. Best director nominee Greg Lansky, a delightfully flashy French pornographer in a red Givenchy tracksuit, says that he literally elevates his studio so that fans can see women “on a pedestal.” His security teams knows which performers are ok hugging and touching their fans and which aren’t.

“I’m trying to make these girls feel good about what they do,” he says. “They all worked really hard to get here.”

With security at all corners of his booth, with its Instagrammable gold couch and open bar, Lansky believes fans get the message that women deserve respect.

“It’s hard for me to go anywhere [in the hotel],” says Jessica Drake, a Best Actress nominee, from the relative privacy of her pristine media suite. “Guys congregate in groups of 30 and just stand there. They circle you. I’ve become a master of taking a selfie and restraining them at the same time.”

Director and performer Joanna Angel, owner of the alt genre site Burning Angel, says she’s never had a bad experience with a fan at AEE. “The fans are traveling to be here,” she says. “They’re really looking forward to this. People wait in really long lines to come see you.” The only time she’s seen nonconsensual groping is from men at the bar after the convention, whom casino security quickly ejected. “I wouldn’t even call guys like that fans,” she says, just entitled jerks.

Ron Jeremy, who has been considered more of a walking novelty than active performer for many years, was banned from the convention and awards show following his claim that groping is a part of the job of his pubic appearances.

In a statement to Rolling Stone, AVN CEO Tony Rios commented, “Ron Jeremy admitted guilt to specific aspects of our code of conduct policy. We discussed this with Ron, and he was not allowed to attend the convention and awards show.”

However, performer/director James Deen, who was accused of on-set misconduct as well as intimate partner violence back in 2015, was nominated at and attended the awards.

Rios clarified, “We did not prohibit people from attending based on accusations.”

Siouxsie Q, who was recently elected secretary of APAC, is upset about what she sees as double standards, where the young, powerful Deen is still welcomed while aging Jeremy is put out to pasture.

“I think we see similar trends in Hollywood. These accounts of Harvey Weinstein’s predatory behavior aren’t coming out during the height of the Kill Bill franchise, but rather in the soggy aftermath of Paddington Bear 2,” she says. “As someone’s star dwindles, people are more willing to watch them fall.”

Deen’s attorney Michael Fattorosi characterized comparisons to Jeremy as “inaccurate and unfair.” In a statement, he said, “James was never investigated criminally, nor were there ever any lawsuits filed against him by any of the accusers. Nor did James ever admit to any misconduct on his part.”

And unlike other industries where powerful men continue to be reckoned, those in porn face powerful taboos. “It’s challenging for adult performers to speak out regarding any abuse that occurs; it is because it perpetuates stigma and allows for society to tell us we asked for it,” says Tasha Reign, an APAC chairperson.

Siouxsie Q agrees that stigma plays a huge role in consent controversies within the sex industry. “As long as sex workers have as much difficulty as they do when reporting and prosecuting sexual assault,” she says, “there will continue to be a culture of silence, victim scrutiny, and inconsistencies in how the industry responds.”

Janice Griffith was nominated for the Best Actress award at the AVNs. Roger Kisby for Rolling Stone

“What do you think of this dress? It’s very ‘Times Up,’ but is it whorey enough?”

Janice Griffith, a Best Actress nominee, is in her hotel room preparing for the awards. It’s true that her black cocktail dress is not as provocative as some of her colleagues’ revealing red-carpet looks. The teal undertone in her ombre hair is fading. She’s Indo-Caribbean, Angelina Jolie-skinny, and speaks with a husky authority. She barks at her date not to interrupt her, impulsively dumping out a jar of candy because there’s nowhere else for him to pour her a fresh vodka cocktail.

None of Janice’s friends in attendance know how to roll a joint. I’m happy to oblige, so she gratefully hands me a packet of rolling papers the size of a hot dog and a sack of sativa the size of my laptop.

“Our biggest issue is that we treat an industry of freelancers as if we’re an industry of employees,” Janice says. Despite the efforts of the Adult Performer Advocacy Committee and Free Speech Coalition, in her view, porn is currently too under-regulated for meaningful accountability.

“When men make women uncomfortable, we brush it off,” she says, “because we know people will write us off as being over-reactive or emotional.”

I visited many porn star rooms and saw both their self care safeguards and true psychological states – Sephora explosions and Cosco-sized boxes of Tangerine Emergen-cee, elaborate dabbing rigs and electric kettles. Janice had brought Complete Works of Kierkegaard.

Harli Lotts, co-host of the AVNs, dons a suicide awareness and prevention ribbon on the red carpet. Roger Kisby for Rolling Stone

As the red carpet wound its way through the Hard Rock, gamblers and bar patrons scrambled for a glimpse of the stars. While many pornographers opted for prom-worthy gowns and suits, their outfits nodded to their profession with bare midriffs, waist-high slits and undulating décolletage. Some wore little more than fringed bikinis. Lance Hart, founder of the PervOUT network, stood out in a stripper-style policeman’s shirt and fishnet stockings; he was handcuffed to his date Charlotte Sartre, who revealed on Twitter that she was not wearing anything underneath her slinky black dress. Abella Danger, last year’s Best New Starlet, shimmered in a transparent bodysuit adorned with strategically placed green and pink crystals.

The AVN awards show was predictably raunchy but surprisingly sincere. Co-hosted by comedian Aries Spears, Australian performer/director Angela White and camgirl Harli Lotts, the event’s biggest draw was hip-hop star Lil Wayne, who performed two high-energy sets with a drummer and DJ. The teleprompter dialog meshed well with the talents of porn star presenters, who were well-practiced in the art of the arched eyebrow and exaggerated wink.

White set a record by winning fourteen awards, the most AVN wins in one night. Clutching her Female Performer of the Year trophy to her remarkable cleavage, she emotionally thanked her co-stars for “allowing me to be vulnerable.”

Tommy Pistol, the Best Actor winner for a film called Ingenue, praised the industry for being a “fucked up family.”

Yet Spears, a MADtv alum, did not seem to pick up on the changing attitudes in the room. “Your personal space should not be invaded,” he declared, before utterly failing to read the room. “However, you bitches look delicious tonight. If I should come up to you and beg you for a blowjob, can you blame me? I am a hot blooded heterosexual male in a room full of professional cocksuckers.”

Eventually, the celebration came to an end. The false eyelashes were peeled off, the hangovers medicated with Ibuprofen and brunch. Pornographers’ minds return to their business, and to the social challenges they continue to face.

“We demand so much from porn stars,” says Bree Mills, a lesbian writer and director. “Performers who have made successful careers could be mentors. Give them infrastructure. Get them an appointment with an accountant, get them health care. They get the stigma stamp on them harder than anybody. We have to take care of them.”

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