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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 years

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But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 5: Don’t Even Think About It]

Hi y’all! I’m so sorry I’ve been gone for so long...finals and job hunting got the best of me. I will be updating more frequently going forward. As always, thank you so much for reading!! 💜😘

Series summary: You are an overwhelmed and disenchanted nurse in Boston, Massachusetts. Queen is an eccentric British rock band you’ve never heard of. But once your fates intertwine in the summer of 1974, none of your lives will ever be the same...

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, very very very little sexual content.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii @loveandbeloved29 @killer-queen-xo @maggieroseevans @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @im-an-adult-ish @queenlover05 @someforeigntragedy @imtheinvisiblequeen @joemazzmatazz @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye @namelesslosers @inthegardensofourminds @deacyblues @youngpastafanmug @sleepretreat @hardyshoe @bramblesforbreakfast @sevenseasofcats @tensecondvacation @bookandband @queen-crue

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

You’re in the crowd at The Rainbow, although you aren’t sure why; this has already happened.

Freddie is skulking across the fog-draped stage as he belts out the chorus of In The Lap Of The Gods...Revisited, all glistening tan skin and teased hair, a pillar of nimble black leather; John is only a silhouette in the mist. Brian looks like something that’s crawled out of a cocoon: leggy and insect-like, the sleeves of his flowing white blouse like a pair of wings. And Roger...Roger’s in the back, of course—“the hardworking one in the back,” he always says—with a glittery black kimono-like shrug hanging loosely off his bare shoulders. He’s drumming feverishly, sprays of Heineken flying off his floor tom, his forehead and blond hair dripping.

“Whoa, whoa, la la la, whoa...

I can see what you want me to be,

But I'm no fool,

It's in the lap of the gods...”

Somehow, as the fog clears, Roger’s eyes find you in the crowd. He grins in that effervescent, blameless way that he does. And now you know for sure that this is a dream; because there’s no chance Roger could see that far without his glasses.

There’s a banging noise coming from somewhere, but it’s muted, distant, splintered like an echo.

Dream Roger is fading away, dissolving as the lights shade to black on the stage. He disappears, and then Freddie does too, and then Brian, and finally John. The crowd you’re standing in is a sea of churning, indistinguishable faces.

The banging grows louder, closer. You can hear a new voice now.

You swim up from unconsciousness and punch into daylight. You’re laying on your back in bed in a small, rustic hotel room; it takes you a second to remember what the world looks like now. It’s not November at the Rainbow Theater. It’s December 11th, and you’re in Rome.

You sit up in bed and turn towards the door. Whoever is out there is knocking so forcefully that the distressed wood rattles on its hinges.

“Hey, Dorothea Dix, wake up!” Freddie is shouting through the door.

You rub your eyes as your feet touch the cool teak floor. The band flew into Rome late last night, and has one full day to burn before their concert on the 12th. You’d pitched the idea of visiting a few museums, the Colosseum, the Pantheon, the Roman Forum, St. Peter's Basilica, maybe even the Baths of Caracalla or the Temple of Venus and Roma; but it had been difficult to get anyone to commit at 2 a.m. when you were all exhausted and dragging luggage into the modest, quite geriatric hotel. Queen may finally have a Top 20 album in the U.S., but the streets aren’t paved with gold just yet.

“Darling, need I remind you that this was all your idea, you simply must wake up this instant—!”

You swing the door open. Freddie is standing in the hallway in a vivid yellow-and-black jacket and white jeans, tall boots, dark hair huge and curly, folded aviator sunglasses peeking out of his pocket.

“Get ready, bitch,” he says, grinning, then slips the sunglass over his dusky eyes. “All those gorgeous marble blokes with their cocks hanging out aren’t going to ogle themselves.”

~~~~~~~~~~

You start with the ruins, then end up at the National Roman Museum after lunch. Brian and Chrissie meander through the halls of cracked marble goddesses and heroes and piecemeal fractions of bodies, their hands intertwined; Chrissie took a few days off work to meet the band in Rome, and she’s glowing with the thrill of being reunited with Bri. Freddie is contemplating the displays, tapping his chin thoughtfully and chatting as John nods along and sketches in his notebook. There’s a photographer scurrying around snapping photos of the band for some magazine, to the vexation of the museum employees. They scowl from the corners of the rooms, their suits pristine and arms crossed, muttering to each other in Italian.

Roger leaps in front of a hulking statue of Perseus and mimics the pose. “What do you think?” he asks you, wielding an invisible spear. “Am I courageous? Divine? A mirror image?”

“You’ll have to work on the hair. And gain like a hundred pounds.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Pounds?!”

“Whoops. Kilos. A lot of kilos. But I think I like you as you are. Can I see your hands?”

Roger falls out of his pose, smiling. “Yes ma’am.” He presents his palms for inspection. The first weeks had been hell for him as his hands were worked into touring shape, repeatedly blistered and worn raw, iced and treated and bandaged by you each night only to be pummeled all over again the next day. Of course, Roger hadn’t described it that way; he shrugged at the blood and swollen knuckles, his eyes already alight with the promise of future shows. That’s just a casualty of fame, love, he’d told you. I’d take it all again and more. The last of his blisters have healed now into discolored callouses, rough whirlpools of memories from cities like Glasgow and Bristol and Helsinki and Munich. “I can get more pounds too, you know. I’ll be swimming in them. I’m gonna buy you a mansion when we get home.”

“Not so fast, blondie.” You graze your thumbs over his rugged palms and release him. Aside from your annoyingly incessant concern for Roger, your job hasn’t proved to be too taxing: there have been sprains, minor lacerations, severe hangovers, some alcohol poisoning, and one case of syphilis that you identified and sent the unfortunate man to a doctor for, all of which afflicted the roadies rather than the band.

“How’s Jo doing?” Chrissie calls over from where she and Brian are scrutinizing a sculpture of Apollo. She tosses Roger a smirk.

“Fine,” he replies briskly. “It was amicable. She understood. Nothing personal, just with the tour and everything we knew it wasn’t going to work out. Bad timing, that’s all.”

“Hm. That’s not exactly how she described it.”

Roger sighs, irritated. “Well, Chris, I really can’t control what she chooses to tell you, can I?”

“Shhhh. Play nice, love,” Brian coos, massaging Chrissie’s shoulders.

Roger pops a cigarette between his lips and moves to light it. A museum employee rushes over, waving his arms frantically. “Per favore, signore, no smoking near the exhibits—!”

“Oh, right, right. Sorry.” Roger tucks the cigarette away, then turns back to you. “Okay, no mansion then. What’s your fancy? Diamonds and gold? Tigers on leashes?”

“A harem of sensual Italian men?” Freddie suggests. Chrissie bursts out laughing.

“I hope not,” Roger says.

“You know what I really want?” you say, eyeing busts of Hadrian and Nero.

“What?” Chrissie asks.

“A camera. A really good one. To document all of this, our adventures. I mean, I know we have...” You wave towards the magazine photographer, who’s mostly snapping shots of Freddie and Roger. “But it would be nice to have my own photos. Carry them around in my wallet, force strangers to look at them, cover my refrigerator with them, all that sentimental stuff. So the minute you kids start making real money, I’d like a nice Canon. Or a Nikon. Or whatever the best camera is.”

“The Canon F-1 is quite good,” the photographer offers.

“Perfect! Clearly, I know nothing about cameras. And will need a hefty instruction manual. But I’m still excited.”

Roger winks. “I believe in you.”

As you all wander into the next room, Freddie spies a grand piano and sprints to it. He slides onto the bench and begins testing the keys. A distraught museum employee appears instantly.

“Signore, please, this is for the museum staff only, please signore!”

“Oh relax, darling, I won’t break it.” He begins experimenting with some light, jazzish melody.

“I love Rome,” you decide as you stroll past the Aphrodite of Menophantos. “Are you sure we can’t stay here forever?”

John frowns as he shades in whatever he’s drawing in his notebook. “It’s too bad we couldn’t make it to Florence.”

Freddie rolls his eyes from the piano. “Deaky, darling, this Dante’s Inferno obsession has got to go. It’s positively morbid.”

“He ends up in paradise,” John protests wryly.

Freddie snorts. “Yes, well, Florence is a three hour drive each way. Next time perhaps. Once we’ve all got private jets and Nurse Nightingale over there has her posh camera.”

“And we’ve acquired trophy wives to pose with us,” Brian jokes. Chrissie squeals and shoves him good-naturedly.

“We could go to the beach,” John proposes.

“A seaside rendezvous?” you say playfully.

Freddie hums and nods as his fingers fly over black and white keys.

“Signore...” the museum employee begs. The photographer circles Freddie and the piano, snapping picture after picture.

“The beach?!” Roger whines. “It’s too cold for that! We can’t swim, we can’t sunbathe practically naked, what’s the point? And we’re checking out that club tonight. The one by the hotel, what’s it called, Fred? El Fuocolio?”

“Il Fuoco,” Freddie corrects, amused.

“Ah. Forgive me for not keeping up with my Italian.”

“We don’t all listen to opera, you know,” you tease Freddie. He peers over at you thoughtfully, then continues playing. “I’ll go to the beach with you, John.”

He almost drops his notebook and pencil. “Will you?”

“Of course. I’ll have fewer opportunities in my life to see the Italian seaside than get tipsy and evade dodgy men at some bar, most likely. Although I will miss seeing your dancing.”

“Aww!” Now Roger is dejected, his huge blue eyes pleading. “You have to come with us.”

“Next time,” you promise him.

“This time.”

“Next time.”

“Fine.” He points at John. “Don’t let her get eaten by a shark or run off with some Italian playboy.”

John grins. “I’ll do my best.”

Two burly security guards arrive and begin shouting at Freddie in Italian. “Oh fine, fine!” he snaps as he stands and abandons the piano. The museum employee beams triumphantly.

“Fred, I think we’ve tormented them enough,” Brian says.

“Bri, can we go to the beach too?” Chrissie asks. “Please?”

“It’ll be chilly.”

“I have a jacket. And I can borrow yours if necessary.”

Brian chuckles. “Okay. We can go. Ostia’s the closest one, I suppose.”

“You’ll love it,” you tell him. “It’ll be like time travelling. You get to stand on the same shore that the ancient Romans did, bury your feet in the same sand, watch the same sunset. That should appeal to an astrophysicist such as yourself.”

“How poetic,” John muses.

Roger comes to you, shrugs off his black leather jacket, drapes it over your violet sweater.

“Roger, don’t—”

“I’ll miss you,” he interrupts, smiling, then presses his lips fleetingly to your forehead.

~~~~~~~~~~

The four of you take a crowded, decidedly unglamorous bus to Ostia and walk the beaches under the fading afternoon sun. It is chilly by the crashing water, and the wind whips across your cheeks forcefully enough to sting; but none of that stops you. Brian and John collect seashells, and Brian retreads all the details of the tour—all the things he wishes he could do over, all the things he wants to change going forward—as John listens, smoking and nodding when appropriate. You and Chrissie kneel in the cool sand and shape castles with your hands, giggle about how messy and lopsided they are, scribble notes in the soft sifting remnants of stone and quartz: Chrissie loves Bri, Buy Sheer Heart Attack today, Queen was here. And you’re thinking about Roger more than you should be, and Chrissie knows it; but she’s not going to say anything about that now.

When the boys come back, Bri sits in the sand next to Chrissie and begins to decorate her castle with the shells he found: scallops and clams and tulip shells and oysters and tiny lightning whelks. She claps and hugs him, leaps into his lap, pulls him in for a kiss.

“This is terribly unfair,” you say, staring morosely at your now even less impressive sandcastle.

John appears beside you and offers a massive pink conch filled with very small, pristine, glossy shells. You gasp and clasp a palm over your heart.

“Really?!”

“Yeah,” he says, puzzled. “Who do you think I picked them for?”

“You’re the best. The absolute best. A treasure. I owe you my life. Wait...” You pick up a thin shard of driftwood and write into the side of your sandcastle: John Deacon, and then a heart encircling it. “You are officially lord of the sandcastle.”

“A prestigious position, surely,” he says, smiling, then passes you the conch. “Go on.”

As you place the shells, he finds a dried bit of seaweed and impales it on the piece of driftwood, then plants the makeshift flag on the tallest tower of the castle.

Brian glances over and shakes his head, his mess of curls shivering. “Chris, love, I fear we’ve been outdone.” Then he nods to the words you and Chrissie carved with your fingertips. “Leaving letters in the sand?”

“Promotional material,” you quip; but you can tell the wheels in Brian’s magnificent mind are whirling.

As the sun sets over the Mediterranean Sea, golden speckles of light floating disembodied on the waves, the four of you get gelato and browse through bookstores and wander down cobblestone streets. And on the bus ride back to the hotel, Brian points out constellations as you hold the conch shell in your lap and doze against John’s shoulder.

~~~~~~~~~~

Brian and Chrissie depart to get dinner when you arrive back at the hotel, taking the rare opportunity for a date night. You try to think of a more romantic destination than Rome. Paris? New York? Venice? Probably none of those. You push the images that flood your thoughts away: candlelit meals with violins serenading in the background, the warm cascading glow of streetlights, tossing coins into fountains older than either London or Boston, gazing over the table and into the ensnaring oceanic eyes of the person who won’t be there. Roger.

“Do you think Roger and Fred are back yet?” you ask John in the lobby. He’s still got his notebook in his jacket pocket, but he won’t let you see it.

“I doubt it, but let’s find out.”

You ride the elevator to the band’s floor, still clutching the conch shell, as John fields ideas for dinner.

“Roger’s going to want pizza and beer, but we might be able to get Freddie to go for something more swanky. Actually, he’ll probably order dessert first. There’s a restaurant down the street that I heard has phenomenal tiramisu and lasagna.”

“Oh god. I would kill for a good lasagna.”

“No need for all that,” John says. “We don’t have enough cash for your bail.”

“If they serve lasagna in prison, you can leave me here.”

“But then who would patch up our debaucherous roadies?!”

You laugh as the elevator lurches to a halt and the doors open. “Just call me up in prison and I can talk you through it—”

You step out and turn down the hallway; then all the air vanishes from your lungs. Roger’s fumbling with his key as he tries to get into his room...and pressed between him and the door is a raven-haired, modelesque woman in a short red dress. His eyes are closed, her tongue darting between his lips, his free hand skating up her bare thigh and beneath her dress. And suddenly you’re being dragged back into the elevator, John’s arms locked around your waist. He hits the button for the lobby then reaches for you uncertainly.

“Are you okay—?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I’m totally fine, I’m...” But for some reason, your throat is burning and your eyes are blurring with tears. You try to blink them away and they drop down your cheeks like rain.

“You’re not,” he realizes softly.

“Goddammit,” you choke out, sobbing.

“Hey, don’t do that,” John pleads. “Please don’t do that, please don’t cry—”

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, this is so stupid...” You fan your face and try to wrangle your breathing. The way he was touching her...I can’t forget the way he was touching her. “I am so stupid.”

“You’re not,” John flares. And when he opens his arms you rush into them, burying your face in his jacket as he pulls you closer, drowning you in his warmth. “You’re not stupid,” he says, quietly but severely. “You’re wicked smart and wonderful and perfect, so you’re not allowed to say anything to the contrary. Alright?”

“Okay,” you whisper. And it occurs to you—as your breathing slows, as your tears subside—how incomparably comfortable this feels, homey even.

John clears his throat. “Hey, not to break this up or anything, but you’re sort of stabbing me with the conch shell.”

Incredibly, you laugh as you back away, swiping at your eyes. “Sorry.”

The elevator doors open, and John leads you out into the lobby. “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he says. “We’re going to go to that restaurant on the corner and I’m going to order a lasagna—”

“John, I don’t think I can eat anything.”

“Doesn’t matter. Did I say you were going to be forced to eat it at gunpoint? No I did not. I’m going to order a lasagna, and if you want some awesome, and if you don’t we’ll just sit and talk. And you can nibble table bread or drink so much wine you forget today ever happened, whatever you want. You make the rules. But we’re going, and I’m ordering lasagna.”

“Okay,” you reply, sniffling, smiling up at him gratefully.

The restaurant is teeming with tourists, and you end up seated at a tiny table near the back with very dim lighting and a roaring fireplace. It’s deliciously hot, burning away your misery; or, at least, making it feel as if it might belong to someone else, as if maybe you heard about it from a friend or in a song, maybe even dreamed it. You take Roger’s leather jacket off and hang it on the back of your chair. When the waiter arrives, John orders for you.

“One lasagna, the biggest one you have, and extra table bread, and uh...” He skims the menu. “Two red wines and a Coke. And a sparkling water. So the lady has a selection.”

“Si, signore. Grazie.”

When the waiter leaves, John lifts off his jacket too, then unbuttons his shirt to his navel. The sweltering glow of the firelight dances across his pale skin in a way that is mysteriously distracting. “Well, it definitely doesn’t feel like December in here.”

“I’m sorry, maybe they could move us—”

“No, that’s alright, I know you like it. And one should be sweating in Southern Italy, don’t you think?” He tears off a hunk of bread when it arrives and plates it for you. The conch shell lays on the table by the salt and pepper shakers, to the visible confusion of the waiter.

“Thank you. For everything, John. Really.”

He gazes at you with those blue-grey eyes that can look like either clouds or steel depending on the occasion. Tonight they are misty, like the froth over waves, impossibly soft. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he says gently. “I don’t know if that helps at all, but I think it should. It doesn’t mean anything to someone like Roger, what you saw tonight.”

You sigh. “I guess it doesn’t. And I’m sorry, I know it’s ridiculous, I know that, and I’m just so frustrated and...and...I get it, I get that I have no right to care about anything Roger does, which is why I feel like such an idiot for reacting this way, but I just...I just...I’m just so...so fucking torn up about it and I’m sick of being surrounded by it all the time and I’m...I’m so...I’m...look, I’m sorry, can you button your shirt or something? That’s very distracting.”

“Oh, it’s distracting, is it?” John asks, grinning.

“Don’t you dare—”

He undoes several more buttons. “How about now, are you sufficiently distracted?”

“John, no!” you wail, laughing.

“I wouldn’t want to do anything to distract you from your tortured inner monologue...” He removes his shirt entirely and tosses it to the floor. “How are you now?”

“Very distracted,” you wheeze.

“Excellent.” He smiles, resting his face in his hands, the firelight flickering over his bare chest and shoulders, reflections of flames in his eyes. “See, you don’t look so sad now.”

“No, I guess I don’t.” You bite into your hunk of bread. But still, the way he was touching her...

John sips red wine and smirks teasingly. “You know...if you ever get tired of the celibate lifestyle...I’m always game.”

You laugh, shaking your head, and open the Coke bottle. “That’s very much appreciated. But I don’t just want sex.”

“I know,” he replies, solemnly now. “You want him.”

“That’s pretty pathetic, isn’t it?”

“I don’t think you’re pathetic at all.” That seems like it must be a lie, but John sounds genuine.

“You’re my best friend, you know,” you tell him. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Certainly not get treated to authentic Italian lasagna.”

You chuckle. “I’m sure that’s the least of your talents. Veronica is a very lucky woman.”

John nods, staring down at the table now, pushing crumbs around with the back of his hand. “If you say so.”

And, in the end, you managed to eat your half of the lasagna after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you get back to your hotel room, it’s very late in Italy...which means it’s only early evening in Boston. You pick up the phone and resolve to use the last of your miniscule weekly allowance for a long distance call.

Your mom answers on the third ring. “Hello?”

“Guess where I am right now.”

“Hopefully on a date with that nice Roger boy.”

“Oh my god, Mom.”

She titters pleasantly. “Tell me, dear. Germany? No, no. Spain.”

“Rome.”

“Oh!” she sighs, steeped in nostalgia. “Daddy and I went there on our honeymoon! Ages ago, of course. But it was wonderful, otherworldly. Like getting lost in a fairytale. How do you like it?”

“I love it,” you murmur. “Mom, can I ask you something?”

“Always, dear.”

You twirl the phone cord around your fingers anxiously. “How did you know that Dad was the one?”

“Hm.” She pauses; and you can envision the way she takes a step back and glances up at the ceiling whenever she’s thinking something over. Oh, maybe I do still miss parts of Boston. “Well...you know Daddy wasn’t single when we met. And neither was I.”

“Yeah, I think I remember that part of the story.”

“I’m not sure if I can explain it, dear. Truly. I...” She drifts off, pondering it. Finally, she says: “I’d had plenty of other boyfriends. I’d been interested in other people. And people are all so different, they all have something unique to offer to your life, whether good or evil. But when I met your father...I just felt like I couldn’t live without him. Suddenly nothing else seemed possible if he wasn’t in the picture. Like if he wasn’t there I’d spend the rest of my life missing him. Does that answer your question?”

“It does, yeah.” You close your eyes and feel the dark Mediterranean night air breeze in through the open window. The conch shell has found a temporary home on top of the antique dresser. “I love you, Mom.”

“Aww, I love you too, honey. And you’ll make the right decision, whatever that is.”

You look out into the constellations that Brian introduced to you earlier, Aries and Fornax and Perseus. “I hope so.”

#queen #queen fic #roger taylor fic #but you can never leave fic #but you can never leave series #but you can never leave #queen fanfic #john deacon fic #roger taylor x reader #john deacon x reader

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dovechim · 5 years

Text

Power Play (m)

⇥ written as part of the Lights, Camera, Action! pornstar collab ⇤

➾ 27.6k

➾ warnings: degradation/ humiliation, unprotected sex, creampies, cum eating, thigh riding, ass play, spitting, mentions of religion (porn scene involving a Catholic priest and school girl- please skip over if this offends you!), mentions of impregnation

➾ a/n: thank you so much to my deli fairy @jimlingss for hearing me out when i was ranting about how hard it was to write this. you gave me so much inspiration and motivation to write, and this fic would not be here without you :D @parkmuse you are the absolute mvp for offering to beta read this monster. thank you for validating me when i needed it TT i know you’ll just nut over this so enjoy ;-) and of course!!!! @winetae I'm so happy and grateful to be a part of this collaboration 😭 im honoured to be able to fulfil your porn star dreams :”D

happy valentine’s day 🌹❤️

please do check out the other lovely writers in the collab too!!

➾ summary: You know him as the A lister of all porn stars; a man who sits pretty in his place at the top of the food chain. But you also know him as the Park Jimin who single handedly humiliated you and ruined your own career as a rookie just starting out, the epitome of the biggest dick in the entire industry… and you’re not talking about his assets. But when Park Jimin comes to you, saying he’s in a slump that only you can get him out of and begs you to sign an exclusive contract with him; things get messy… in more ways than one.

“Longer thrusts, we want to see that cock sliding in and out, and more power please,” the director calls out as Jimin grunts mid thrust. “And watch your expression! You look like you’re fucking a garbage disposal. Get it together, Park!”

Sweat is pouring down his face as he gathers the last bit of his strength to push his co-star’s legs up onto his shoulders. Below him is one of his fellow A listers, the hottest, most on demand porn star in the industry. Everything from Sana’s bouncing, voluptuous breasts to her tiny squeaks and moans should serve as motivation for him and help him to perform his best, but there’s somehow… something lacking.

He’d been wanting to work with Sana for the longest time ever, even his manager was enthusiastic about two top A-listers coming together (no pun intended), but looking down at her now, it’s blatantly obvious that he isn’t as physically attracted to her as he thought.

“Cut, makeup team please,” the director motions for a touchup to be done, and Jimin groans as he pauses his thrusts and a few stylists fuss with his hair and his face. The sweat is carefully sponged off his forehead, the shading on his abs touched up a little, and being in this position, with this many strangers crowding around him nearly makes him go soft inside Sana’s pussy.

“You okay?” Sana frowns in concern as she can feel him start to slide out of her, gripping him with her walls tighter.

Jimin brushes aside her concern with a nod, just as the director calls for them to resume, and he starts pumping his hips into her again, driving deep with every thrust. Something he’s doing must be right, since the director is calling for close up shots and urging him to go faster and harder.

“Money shot in two minutes, Park please get ready,” the script writer reminds him somewhere from behind, and he grunts low in his throat, reaching down to wrap his hands around Sana’s waist to pull her onto his cock more firmly. “When you’re ready, pull out till just the tip. We want a nice big creampie there, tell us if you need the backup…”

Jimin forces himself to go harder, feeling his balls tighten up as he tries to cum on command, something he’s never had trouble with since the beginning of his career. He’s practically built his entire reputation as a porn star on creampies and facials, not to mention he knows he looks like sin incarnate when he throws his head back while he cums.

“Oh fuck, yes,” Sana gasps under him, and when her walls flutter around him, it occurs to Jimin that she’s not acting right now, she’s actually about to cum around him. “Pl-lease cum inside me, I want your cum so bad, fill my pussy up.”

Her passionate moans make her scripted lines even more believable, this is why she’s an A-lister, because she actually enjoys having sex on camera. Hearing her beg for his cum is almost enough to push him over the edge, just almost. But today he needs just a little bit more, so he squeezes his eyes shut and calls to mind a random image from his wank bank.

The first thing that comes to mind is a red plaid skirt under him and his hands around a waist, translucent white shirt stretched tight over small, perky breasts. His gaze travels up to her neck, and just almost reaches her face before—

“Fuck,” Jimin swears under his breath, hopefully disguising it as a grunt of pleasure when he realises that he doesn’t have the money shot today, too distracted by the suddenness of that mental image. He makes a discreet gesture behind his back, hidden from the camera, and that’s when one of the assistants steps in with a tube in between his spread legs.

The tube goes below his cock and inserted shallowly unto Sana’s pussy, so when Jimin groans and jerks himself off with one hand, the assistant pumps the lube up into the tube, making it seem as if Jimin had just blown his load. He feels the lube surround the head of his cock as he attempts a few small thrusts to spread it around a little, make it more realistic, before pulling out.

The fake cum that drips from Sana’s pussy looks far too realistic, that even Jimin himself is amazed. He spreads her lips with both fingers to show the camera the thick white liquid leaking from her, playing with her clit and coating it with the mixture as he rubs her to a final orgasm that makes her walls clench around nothing, squeezing out even more of the fake cum onto the mattress.

And then he moves off the bed as the camera zooms in for the last frame as Sana spreads her legs wide to show off her creamed pussy, fingers dipping into the mess and then licking it clean with her tongue, giggling as she licks her lips.

“Cut!” The director draws the final scene to a close, and just in time too, because Jimin’s cock is going soft even though he didn’t even cum.

Sana flashes him a smile in thanks as she sits up to peer in between her legs, and a few assistants help her to clean up.

“Hey, you okay?” Manager Sejin hurries over to bring him his robe and a wet wipe, and Jimin shrugs it on silently, swiping half-heartedly at his thighs just to go through the motion of it all before he ties his robe closed and runs a hand through his sweaty hair, adamantly turning his back towards the director who is still talking with a few set assistants and script writers.

Not a few minutes later, the director strides over with a few script writers and exchanges a few laughs and jokes with Sejin, and Jimin is forced to turn around as well.

“The famous Park Jimin, what a show stopper,” he grins, slapping Jimin on the shoulder a few times with a huge grin on his face, seemingly pleased with how the whole shoot went today. “I knew it was a good call casting you and Sana together. You both look like a real on-screen couple! Both hot as fuck with bodies to die for, now that’s what I call chemistry!”

Jimin can only manage a half-hearted smile, which the director is entirely smitten with as he makes promises with Sejin to be in touch for Jimin’s next project soon. If that’s what the director thinks is chemistry, then he hasn’t seen many movies. But then again, what counts as chemistry in the porn industry is totally different from Hollywood. Here, as long as you act like you’re having a good time, say your cheesy lines and cum on command, anything goes.

His teeth sink into his lower lip as he makes his way to the car, getting in without a single word. Fooling the director is one thing, but there’s one person he’ll never be able to fool, and that’s himself. Jimin has never felt as if he was on the verge of losing an erection during a scene. The first five minutes of the car ride is spent in silence as he reproaches himself over and over, and Sejin casts him a wary glance.

“You’re doing it again, aren’t you? Blaming yourself over something that can’t be changed,” Sejin interrupts his thoughts.

“No, it’s just…” Jimin denies it, but gives in a second later. “I was struggling during that last scene. Like really, honestly struggling. I think I’m losing it.”

To admit it out loud might be the scariest thing he’s ever done in his entire life to date. Saying it out loud makes it seem all the more real, and although it might be childish, Jimin thinks that if he keeps all these thoughts buried away in the corners of his mind, then everything will be alright again. All his doubts and insecurities will turn out to be nothing but lies, and everything will be okay.

“I know. I saw,” Sejin says. “Everyone struggles once in a while. What’s important is that you pulled through.”

His sincere words somehow makes Jimin want to keep talking. “I think… I’m tired. Tired of fake cumming in girls, tired of slapping random asses every day. The director said we had fucking chemistry. Can you believe that? Sana and I wouldn’t last two seconds in a science lab.”

Sejin chuckles as Jimin gets himself all worked up, muttering under his breath. “People see what they want to see, kid.”

“Do you remember anything about a girl in a white shirt and red plaid skirt?” Jimin asks suddenly, and Sejin is somewhat derailed by the change in topic, but decides to go along with his plucky charge’s demands. “Maybe one of my ex co-stars?”

“Park, this is porn. Red plaid skirt is a porn category all on its own, you must have fucked at least a dozen girls in that get up. So you gotta be more specific,” Sejin says as he turns into Jimin’s driveway, bringing the car to a stop.

“Oh. Right.” Visibly disappointed, Jimin leans back in his seat for a moment before reaching for the seatbelt to unbuckle it. “Well, thanks for today, hyung. I’ll get going now—“

“Wait, Park, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for a while now,” Sejin turns to Jimin with a contemplative look on his face. “It’s about a new project I had in mind. I’ve been discussing this with a few people from the brand department, and I think it’ll get you out of your slump.”

“That’s what we thought about Sana, remember?” Jimin fidgets with the tie on his robe. “Who is it this time? Another blonde bombshell? We pretty much exhausted the entire A listers already, so I don’t see who else—“

“Except she’s not an A lister,” Sejin turns and rummages around the mess that is the backseat of his car for a few minutes before pulling out a tablet and unlocking it with a few swipes. “But she’s a rising star. A face you don’t really see that often in porn, and her concept is unique too.”

He clicks open a few folders and swipes through a few albums before he finds what he wants, handing the tablet to Jimin. “Here. This girl. I don’t think you’ve ever worked with her before, but—“

The tablet feels like stone in his hands as he stares at the image, and suddenly, he’s able to put a face to that girl in the white shirt and plaid skirt from earlier. This must be a slightly newer picture, since your hair looks different from how he remembers it. You’re wearing a white lace babydoll set, looking more innocent and pure than anything he’s ever seen in his entire life.

Jimin’s seen way too many girls in lingerie by now, such that he’s almost desensitized to it already. But there’s something different about this picture that makes his blood rush through his veins almost immediately. Unlike the hundreds of girls he’s seen, you’re more modestly covered in this picture, your breasts are fully covered in the delicate cloth, and Jimin has to tear his gaze away from it before his mouth starts to water, the lace allowing him peeks of your skin through the material. The way you’re seated on that chair—luscious thighs spread apart, your pussy just hidden from view—is the most provocative sight he’s ever seen. Your head is propped on your hand and you are looking somewhere off camera in a slightly bored expression, but it enraptures him nevertheless.

“As you can see, her concept isn’t about showing as much skin as possible. Her brand is pretty much the opposite of yours—softcore domination, that is—and since opposites attract, I was thinking a miniseries… that is, if you guys have the chemistry. If you really like her and you gusy can work well together…” Sejin glances over at Jimin to gauge his reaction, only to find him still staring at the picture on the screen with a laser like intensity. The tell-tale bulge in his dress pants makes Sejin burst out in laughter. “I’m guessing little Park approves? What’s with you, popping a boner just by seeing a girl in underwear?”

Jimin sends him a side eyed glare, hastily using the tablet to cover his lap as he mumbles defensively, “it’s leftover from the shoot just now.”

Sejin hits the steering wheel with a victorious fist. “I knew it! I knew you’d like her. When I first saw one of her videos a few days ago, I immediately thought of you. I don’t know why she looked so familiar, but I guess there aren’t many girls doing the modest concept these days—“

“You’re wrong, hyung,” Jimin interrupts before Sejin can get too carried away. “I haveworked with her before, five years ago.” Jimin’s memory is now crystal clear, he remembers that day as if it was yesterday.

“Really? You have?” Sejin frowns in confusion. “I think I’d remember a face like that…”

Jimin sighs as he tosses the tablet into the backseat in resignation. “Your project sounds great and all, but it’ll never work.”

“What? Why?” Sejin fumbles for the tablet again, struggling to understand Jimin’s sudden change in mood.

“Because she hates me to the core. There’s no way she’ll ever agree to work with me.”

“And that’s a wrap, thank you!” The slates clap one last time, and your co-star breaks character immediately to brush his thumb at the corner of your eye to make sure that one bit of cum doesn’t accidentally get inside. Inwardly your heart stops at his tender gesture, as if you hadn’t been on edge the whole scene.

Cha Eun Woo is one of the most handsome porn stars you’ve ever seen. His face is a work of the gods; when he smiles he is all shy boyish charm that has all his older female viewers quaking in their panties (you included), but when he clenches his jaw tight he is anything but a flower boy. You consider it a privilege to get to work with someone like him, and even though this scene isn’t exactly up your alley—bondage and face fucking—you’d do it all over again if it only meant getting to look at his beautiful face.

Eun Woo reaches for the restraints on your wrists and starts undoing them before his manager drapes a robe over him and tries to usher him away. Good looking and has manners? You need to get on that dick immediately, preferably not with a dozen cameras surrounding you.

He insists on undoing at least one side of your restraints before he allows himself to be dragged away by his manager who insists that he has another shoot to get to. He throws you an apologetic smile over his shoulder which you return as one of the set assistants helps you with your wrists and hands you a robe along with a wet wipe for your face. The back view of him isn’t too bad either, in fact it’s just as good as the front. You continue staring till it’s regrettably covered by his robe, and then you migrate your gaze down to his thighs.

You wish you’d written your number on the backs of those hard as steel thighs. Never mind that you don’t have a pen, there’s plenty of cum on your face for you to-

“Done ogling your co-star yet? Didn’t you get enough in the past four hours already?” You sigh in disappointment when your manager finally appears in your field of vision, blocking your view of Eun Woo’s thighs as she hands you a bottle of water.

Regrettably, you unscrew the cap and take a sip, following Wendy to the changing room. “Even a lifetime together with that man wouldn’t be enough.”

Before you enter the changing rooms, there is a flurry of activity behind you and a few screams here and there. You whip your head around, clutching your robe to your chest in terror as the most horrifying scenes cross your mind. Maybe you’ll be burnt alive before you can collect your day’s pay, resigned to a tragic death without ever having a chance to try that new all you can eat buffet. Or maybe it’s a gunman looking to shoot down the most attractive person in this set, and seeing as Eun Woo has left the building long ago-

“It’s Park Jimin, oh my god!!!” Wendy squeals in your ear, abruptly putting an end to your macabre imagination as she scurries towards the set, stopping halfway when she realises your expression has darkened over.

You can spot a gaggle of fangirls- mostly set assistants and even the director himself- crowding around him as he runs an unbothered hand through his silver hair, pushing his dark circle lenses further up his nose as he shoots them a polite smile. Jerk. Asshat. Pretentious bastard. Who the hell wears sunglasses indoors? You hope he trips an invisible crack on the floor and falls flat on his stupid face. Why would an A-lister like Park Jimin be here in the first place?

Just then, the man in question raises his head as if he’s looking for something, and while you can’t exactly be sure, you feel his gaze lock onto you, and you hurriedly turn away to the safety of the changing rooms.

You open your locker to start changing into your shirt dress, your robe half off your frame when you hear the door open. Thinking that it’s Wendy, you don’t bother to speed up your actions at all; she’s seen you naked plenty of times. Sometimes when she breaks into your house to wake you up for morning schedules you don’t even bother putting on clothes till the very last minute, so—

“I must say, you’re a lot hotter than I thought you’d be. You look like you’ve grown a cup size or two.”

The sound of a male voice makes your heart leap into your throat, and you drop everything you’re holding, but thankfully your robe remains clasped under your arms. Park Jimin lowers his sunglasses to the very end of his nose as his eyes linger on every bit of exposed skin, even tiptoeing to get a better look, the bastard.

“Long-time no see, hmm?”

He looks conspicuously out of place in his immaculately pressed dress pants and white silk shirt, arms folded against his chest with an amused look on his face as you scramble to cover yourself up as quickly as you can. Arming yourself with a glare, you turn around to face him fully, your back against the lockers and feeling as if you’re being cornered.

For the first time in five years, you come face to face with the source of all your misery. He looks just as cocky and suave as he did all those years ago when you were just a rookie starting out in the porn industry, fresh faced and hopeful, desperate to make a quick buck to pay off all your tuition fees.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” you deliberately force yourself to turn back to your locker, acting as if his gaze on your back doesn’t bother you in the least. “What are you doing here? It’s not your shoot.”

Jimin looks a little disappointed when you’re decent again. “Why so shy all of a sudden? It’s not like I don’t know what you look like under there. That video where you get titty fucked? They’ve definitely grown a cup or two since then.”

You cast a cursory glance towards the entrance of the changing room, wondering why Wendy isn’t storming in by now. Granted, people in the porn industry are a lot more relaxed when it comes to nudity and personal space. In fact, just last month, management proposed to merge both sexes’ changing rooms into one in favour of an onsite barista serving custom made coffee and drinks, and everyone jumped on that bandwagon like a man with blue balls at an orgy.

Thankfully some people still had brains enough to protest it and overturn that decision.

“As if you’ve ever seen any of my videos,” you tell him with a roll of your eyes, fumbling around for your underwear so that you can get the hell out of there as fast as you can, to spare yourself from any more humiliation in front of this man. “As if that tiny pea brain of yours could contemplate anyone else’s existence other than your own.”

“Ouch, that’s harsh,” Jimin pretends as if you shot him straight in the heart, and you honestly wish you had a gun just so you could. The world would be a much happier place without him.

Jimin bends down to pick something up from the ground, and you’re horrified when you realise that it’s your plain old white cotton bra, the ratty one that’s been in the wash one too many times and may or may not have its underwire poking out. He dangles it from his finger by the strap with an accompanying smirk on his face as he examines it thoroughly, eyes flitting towards your face every now and then.

“Looking for this? I was right. You did grow a cup size.”

You snatch it from him and decide to bite the bullet, shoving your robe off and pulling your shirt dress over your body as fast as you can. You can already feel him gearing up to make a greasy comment about your lack of underwear, but you stop him in his tracks as you slam the locker closed.

“Watch it, Park. My body’s only a free for all when the cameras are on. Apart from that, I charge by the minute.” You swing your tote bag over your shoulder and make a beeline for the doors, but Jimin isn’t letting you get away so easily.

“Then how about I film you with my phone? Does that count?” He grins cheerfully as he whips out his phone from his pocket, but all you see is just sleaze personified on his face. “I’ve never done amateur porn before, but I’d do anything to fuck that pussy of yours.”

The nerve of this guy. Just because he’s an A lister, he thinks he can just show up all willy nilly at someone else’s shoot, scare them while they’re half naked and say these kinds of disgusting, lewd things. Honestly, you have no idea why he’s even here at your shoot in the first place when he could be doing a number of other things instead. Namely, working out and ingesting copious amounts of protein, and also checking himself out in the mirror. You can’t say that you’re intimately familiar with his hobbies, but it seems about right for someone as vain and cocky as Park Jimin.

“In your dreams. Now if you don’t mind, I have other places to be.” You shut him down again as you head outside to look for Wendy’s car.

“I’m serious. I have a preposition for you.” Jimin stops you with a hand on your arm. “A mini-series with me.”

“Save it, Park. Why would I want to do a scene with you?” You wrinkle your nose at him as you unscrew the lid of a bottle of water to take a few sips. “Actually, scratch that. I’d love to do a scene with you. It could be the shortest shoot ever in the history of porn. A tiny dick like yours couldn’t last even an hour. We’d be done in thirty minutes!”

While you are exclaiming in glee to yourself, clapping your hands with mirth at the thought of poor little Park Jimin prematurely ejaculating all over himself while the rest of the set watches on in disappointment, you don’t notice his eyes narrow and his lips press together in a firm line. You’re all too absorbed in the fantasy of watching Park Jimin embarrass himself in front of you and a whole bunch of other people, instead of it being the other way around, for karma to kick his ass and give him what he deserves after all these years.

You turn back to him when a thought suddenly strikes you. “Hey, you were there watching me and Eun Woo today right?”

Jimin folds his arms across his chest, all traces of glee wiped clean from his face. “Yeah… why?”

“Did you see how long he lasted? He didn’t even need a fluffer in between scenes. He fucked me like a pro,” you sigh dreamily, unconsciously gripping the bottle tight as you call to mind how thick his cock was. “And he’s so good looking too. I heard he once sat on a nail and he didn’t even feel a thing. Can you imagine how fine that ass of his must be?”

“My ass is pretty great too…” Jimin mumbles in consternation. “Why won’t you do a scene with me? Look, if it matters that much to you, I’ll even sit on a nail too. I’ll sit on two nails. Just to prove it.”

You don’t hear him over the sound of your phone chiming with a text. Unlocking it to check your messages, you throw in a few random belongings from your locker into your bag and get ready to leave, but Jimin still has more to say.

“My team’s already done the market research and analysis, you’re just that tiny bit short of making it to A list. If we collaborate, I’m pretty sure you’ll sky rocket to fame—“

You shrug his hand away violently, turning to face him with the immense urge to slap him hard. “What if I don’t want to be an A lister? Ever thought of that, Park? I’m no longer a charity case for people like you who’ve had it smooth sailing all along to take pity on. I made it this far on my own merit alone, and I sure as hell don’t need your help now—“

“Is this because I turned you down that one time?”

For someone who hasn’t seen you in five years, Park Jimin sure knows you well enough to hit you where it still hurts. Before you can stop it, the memories of that terrible, awful day come filtering back in despite your feeble attempts to block it out.

“Who’s this?” Park Jimin wrinkled his nose as he glanced at your poor fitting outfit.

You were well aware that your attempt at a sexy schoolgirl outfit didn’t quite meet the mark- it had come out of your own closet after all- but still, there was no reason for him to be quite so harsh, and you were at a loss for words. “I-I’m—“

“Is this my co-star?” Clothed in his perfectly pressed suit with his hair perfectly coiffed and standing at the other end of the table, Jimin glanced off to the side at the camera crew in doubt. At their confirmation, Jimin turned back to you and broke out into laughter. “PD-nim, I know you were aiming for an innocent school girl getting punished, but isn’t this a little too much?”

The entire set went silent, all eyes were on you and Jimin as you pushed yourself into a sitting position. Now that you looked down at yourself, you saw everything that was wrong- your skirt should have been a good three inches shorter, your blouse tighter, and you should have thrown on that pair of knee socks too-

“I-if there’s something wrong with my outfit, o-or my makeup, I’ll fix it real quick, I promise,” you were mumbling, tripping over your words in anxiety. You knew that this was your big break- appearing on screen with someone as famous as Park Jimin would give you the exposure you needed. More pragmatically, that day’s pay alone would be enough to pay off three months of rent that you’d been late on, and buy some much needed food other than instant noodles and bread and-

“This isn’t something that can be fixed with clothes or makeup,” Jimin shook his head as he turned away to walk off set. “PD-nim, I specifically requested a hot co-star right? Not her. She’s just too cute. No one would take her seriously. She looks like she belongs in a church choir! I’d feel like I was committing a cardinal sin. I don’t even think I could get it up!”

And you were left staring at his back as he walked away, pride wounded. You could hear some of the staff whispering amongst themselves, shooting you looks of pity. But the thought of the bills stacking up made you fight back tears and push yourself off the table as you ran after him.

“M-Mr Park, please, I really need this,” you hated the way your voice sounded, hated putting yourself at someone else’s mercy. But having this opportunity disappear right in front of your eyes made you desperate, you were already clutching at straws, right at the end of your rope, and this was all you had. “Just tell me what I need to change. I’ll do anything.”

“Nothing you do could make me want to fuck you.” Jimin shrugged out of your grip as he pushes back the sleeve of his blazer to reveal a gold Rolex on his wrist. He began to unbuckle the watch from his wrist. “Here. Take this. Compensation for your time.”

He threw the watch onto the ground carelessly as he walked away with his hands in his pockets.

You turn to face him fully, clenching your jaw as you force the remnants of the past back where they belong: out of sight and out of mind. “So what if it is? You think just because you’re an A lister everyone is dying to work with you? I wouldn’t work with Mr Four Inches even if you begged me to.”

How the tables have turned; if only someone had told you on that fateful day after Park Jimin left you in tears, that five years later he’d be crawling back and asking you to work with him. But revenge is sweet and a dish best served cold.

“Listen, back then I was an arrogant jerk, and I said things I shouldn’t have,” Jimin removes his sunglasses so that you can see his eyes now, and it actually looks as if the bastard is truly sorry. Too bad a mere apology won’t fix things now; neither will it negate all the hardship you went through just to make a name for yourself. “Just tell me what it’ll take for you to agree to work with me. I’m open to anything.”

You take a step closer to him, securing yourself a front row seat to the guilt and remorse that plays out on his face as he averts his gaze downwards. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for the past five years, even fantasised about it while going to bed hungry only to wake up at the crack of dawn the next morning to get to your shoot by yourself. This is the moment that makes all that suffering worth it.

“Nothing you do could make me want to fuck you.”

On days that you don’t have a schedule, your guilty pleasure is lying in bed doing nothing. Maybe scroll through some social media on your phone. Go back to sleep for a couple of hours. Nothing strenuous like getting out of bed even for food though. And besides, no one ever visits you other than your manager anyway.

So when your doorbell rings on your day off, you groan and push yourself out of bed, taking a whole five minutes just to muster the energy to get to your feet. Your body is still healing and recovering from your last session with Eun Woo—the script had called for some love bites and marks, and you have to let them fade a little before you can do your next shoot.

You stumble to the door and open it, only to find Park Jimin at your doorstep.

“What the fuck are you doing here? How did you know where I live?” You’re almost instantly awake now, fumbling for your phone. “Get the fuck out of here, or I’m calling the police.”

“Wait, please,” Jimin pushes against the door as you attempt to slam it in his face. “Just hear me out. Five minutes, that’s all. Please.”

Something about the tone of his voice makes you hesitate, and Jimin is able to shove the door open a little wider and wedge his body in between the small space. You’re pressed up intimately against him, much closer than you’d like to be, so you back away immediately just to put some distance in between you. You should have kicked this cocky bastard out when you had the chance.

To put aside his pride and humble himself, coming all the way to your doorstep to beg for you to hear him out takes more out of Jimin than he’d ever thought. But your moment of hesitation means a chance for him, and he’ll take it.

“The clock is ticking,” you show him the timer on your phone as you cross your arms.

Jimin almost laughs, he never thought you’d actually be timing him.

“I’m sorry,” he says, figuring that the simplest approach is the best one. “Look, I’m not going weave you a sob story about how much I’ve changed since then, since you most likely won’t buy it anyway. Instead of that, I’ll be honest with you. I’m in a slump.”

You snort with laughter as you cross your arms, leaning back against the counter. This isn’t all too bad, seeing Park Jimin get all desperate in front of you actually helps close those wounds a little. “The great Park Jimin, most sought after porn star in the entire industry, in a slump? Yeah, right. Tell that to your viewers, tell that to someone who actually cares.”

“It’s true,” Jimin insists, and he clenches his fists tight. As much as it hurts him to admit it, he knows this is the only way he’ll ever have a chance of getting through to you. “I know it may not seem like it but I… I’m just sick of fucking a random girl every day. Every shoot feels like a blur, and I’m just… not happy with my performance. If you watch any of my recent videos, I-“

“Watch your videos? Why would I want to watch someone with a tiny dick acting like he’s got it all?” You toss your hair over your shoulder as you walk towards the kitchen. Since you’re up, you might as well get something to eat. “Hey, I have a question. How does the cameraman manage to get a good shot with your big head in the way?”

Okay, he definitely deserves all this, but that doesn’t mean that your insults don’t hurt. Jimin follows a few steps behind you, casting a surreptitious glance downwards. Is his dick really that small? He knows he doesn’t conform to the porn industry norm of seven and up, but he knows he’s got a good girth, and none of his co-stars have ever complained about his size…

“Just… please. It’s not like you aren’t getting anything out of this either, you’ll get on the A list in no time-“

“Do you think that’s what I really want? To get on that fucking A list?” You shoot back at him, fury reignited once more at the mention of rankings. Someone like Park Jimin would never understand how hard you had to work just to get here. And why to be offered a leg up to ride on his coattails is all the more insulting. “Even if it meant more money, even if it meant more fame, I’d rather die than be on that list, if it’ll make me turn into someone like you, who looks down on others beneath them. Newsflash: not everyone is as obsessed with rankings as you are. Some of us are happy with things the way they are, if it’s enough to get by on, then that’s all I need.”

Jimin looks as if he’s been slapped, and his eyes dart around uncertainly, well aware of your indignance, but having no idea how to proceed from this point on. “I’m sorry if I made it sound like that. I was just trying to help you out too, but I-“

“Thanks, but I don’t need it,” you shove his chest, pointing to the door. “Get out of my sight.”

“I haven’t had an orgasm in ages, alright?” Jimin finally exhales in defeat, shoulders slumping as he admits the one thing that he hasn’t told anyone, not even his manager. “And you can laugh at me all you want, and I deserve it, but it’s hard to even get it up these days. There’s only so many pills you can take before it starts to fuck with your health, and if that snowballs, there goes my entire career, my everything-“

Jimin cuts himself off, turning to face you with an inscrutable look on his face.

His sudden confession has you stumped, and you struggle to find the right words as you stare at the man that has been the bane of your existence during the most difficult time of your life. Your first instinct is to mock him and gloat over his misfortune, but the man standing in front of you isn’t the Park Jimin that you know and hate- making fun of him now wouldn’t be morally right. You know of plenty of porn stars who’d been through the entire system and come out the other side worse for wear.

“So? What does that have to do with me? What makes you think I’m the miracle cure to all your problems?”

Jimin is encouraged when you don’t immediately chase him out or laugh at him. To think of how the tables have turned since five years ago makes him feel like an utter jerk- he hadn’t even given you the time of day back then. You’re a better person than he could ever be.

“I’m attracted to you. Physically, at the very least.” Jimin doesn’t have anything to lose now as he shrugs. He’s always been shameless to a large extent. “I popped a boner for the first time on my own when my manager showed me your photo.”

Now this is just plain ridiculous. Your eyes immediately drop to his crotch out of instinct, and the greasy little shit actually smirks. Before you can avert your gaze, he grabs his own dick through his dress pants, and your cheeks immediately heat up as you look away.

“And you expect me to believe that? Out of all the girls you’ve fucked, you’re not attracted to any single one of them, but you pop a tiny little boner for me?” You clear your throat hastily, trying to get your cheeks to cool down. It feels as if the room suddenly became a few degrees hotter, and-

“Why not? Is it that hard to believe?” Jimin shrugs as if it’s no big deal, leaning against your kitchen counter as he watches you gulp an entire glass of water.

“Listen, Park. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, or if this is just one of your tricks to humiliate me again-“

“I’ll prove it!” Jimin is at his wits end, the timer on your phone ran out what seemed like ages ago, and he’s getting kicked out any second now.

“Prove what?” You turn around, and nearly drop the glass you’re holding.

Park Jimin is most definitely not Mr Four Inches. His pants are bunched up around his thick thighs- you’re privy to the very intimate fact that Park Jimin likes to go commando when he wears dress pants- and his dick is standing straight at attention. Even though he must have only been half hard when he grabbed himself just a few minutes ago, right now he is sporting a full erection, and you can’t help but stare at his one-eyed monster with a horrified look on your face.

You’ve seen many dicks in porn while sucking and fucking your way to the top. Park Jimin’s dick should not have this effect on you. But for some reason you can’t take your eyes off it no matter how hard you try, you can’t meet his eyes. “Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

This at least seems to shake his confidence a little. “Wh-what do you mean? If you’re talking about the underwear, it’s good for my balls-”

“How are you hard that fast? Just a second ago you were-“ you cut yourself off as you close your eyes, massaging your throbbing temples. It feels as if you’ve aged ten years since Park Jimin showed up at your house and flashed you his dick in your kitchen.

“This isn’t even my final form yet, if you show me your pussy I can-“

“Did you get a boner just from arguing with me? Wait, you know what, I don’t care. I really don’t care. Just get out. There are knives in this kitchen and I’m not afraid to use them. In fact, I have this special knife I like to use just for long things like pickles and sausages.” You mime a chopping action while staring directly at his exposed dick, and Jimin winces, covering himself instinctively.

Grabbing him by his ear, you half drag him to the door, giving him almost no time to pull his pants up before you toss him out on his ass. Tomorrow you’re putting in a request to end your lease and shift somewhere into the corner of the city so he’ll never be able to harass you again.

That’s the last you’ll ever see of Park Jimin.

You must be drunk. You must be out of your mind.

At least one of the above is true, judging from the almost empty bottle of wine on the table, and if sitting in front of your computer browsing porn in your underwear is considered normal, then you can write off the second one.

But this still doesn’t account for the fact that you’re on Jimin’s homepage scrolling through his top ten most popular videos, learning from his bio the very precise measurements of his dick. And very bizarrely, the fact that he has an especially tiny pinky is… cute?

There must be a virus on your computer. How else would you explain the fact that your mouse is moving of its own volition towards the most popular video on his page and clicking on it? Someone must be controlling your computer from a remote location, forcing you to watch porn videos of this stupid punk who probably can’t even last more than a minute max-

No, no, you can’t do this. You close your eyes tightly as the video buffers. You’ve never seen a single video of his in your entire life, and you’d do anything to keep it that way. But then the sound of Jimin’s low grunts and whines forces your eyes open again, and you’re met with an intimate view of his spread legs as he wraps one hand around his cock. The sight of his precum dripping over his knuckles as he grips himself harder makes you squeeze your thighs together in response. From this perspective his balls look so tightly drawn and swollen, and your mouth waters at the prospect of taking them into your mouth, wondering how he tastes like.

There is a giggle from a girl offscreen, and Jimin looks off to the side with a smirk on his face, spreading his thick thighs wider and letting his cock fall against his abs with a heavy thump. “Your pussy looks so tight, you sure you can take me?”

The camera pans to his female co-star, and you recognise her to be Sana, top A-lister who has a body to die for. She giggles and spreads her lips, lowering herself down on Jimin’s cock as he hooks his arms under her knees. Sana leans back against Jimin’s chest as he begins to fuck into her roughly, her stuffed pussy front and center on camera as her breasts bounce and she screams and cries his name.

Your underwear is suspiciously wet, and you shift uncomfortably, unable to take your eyes off his cock, pumping in and out of her pussy. Sana is actually one of your role models, and you’ve seen enough of her videos to know when she’s putting on an act and when she’s truly screaming her head off from being dicked down so hard. They change positions several times, and it looks as if she manages to have an orgasm every single time.

You forward to the end, somehow curious to see Park Jimin’s famous money shot. The last thirty seconds of the video shows Jimin’s tip buried in her pussy as he jerks off furiously, sweat shining on his abs as he grunts. Sana is egging him on, asking him to cum inside her, and Jimin complies with a groan, giving a few thrusts with his hips as white liquid begins to seep out around Sana’s pussy. You recognise it immediately as the fake stuff even as Jimin thrusts a few times to make it more realistic, before pulling out. The camera switches angles to focus on his fingers that are pulling her lips apart, exposing her to the camera as he leisurely plays with the fake cum, licking his lips and following the stream of cum with his eyes as it drips from her.

The close up shot of his face doesn’t lie- Park Jimin is one hell of an actor. If he hadn’t told you he was struggling, you’d be entirely fooled by the way he’s kissing Sana’s inner thighs on-screen, post orgasm glow on his rosy cheeks as he praises her for taking his cum so well. Jimin’s face is lit up with reverence and fascination as he runs his fingers through her used cunt, spreading his cum around and using it to rub her clit. The camera then focuses on Sana’s face, gasping and writhing from Jimin’s fingers, but the sound of his voice telling her to cum like the dirty girl she is, suck up all his cum deep inside where it belongs, steals your attention.

You can’t help but start to fan yourself. The soothing lilt of Jimin’s baritone voice is enough to make you feel like he’s actually talking to you right through the screen. With Sana’s face cut off from the frame, it’s easy to just close your eyes and immerse yourself in his praise, like some kind of ASMR porn. Your panties are unbelievably sticky. Now you know just why Park Jimin is an A lister, not because of his good looks or just Lady Luck smiling down on him, or god forbid, his not-as-small-as-you-thought dick. He is truly talented, he works hard, and he knows he’s good at what he does.

As much as you hate to admit it. But you are a person who gives credit where credit is due.

If what he says is true- that partnering with you will go a long way in helping his performance- then you wonder just how well this man can fuck. But yet… collaborating with him would mean having to deal with his insufferable cockiness, not to mention that you’ve already seen enough of him to last a lifetime by now.

But the stickiness between your thighs that just begs for your attention conjures up the filthiest, nastiest thoughts of what it would be like for Jimin to actually say all those things to you. Since everyone says he’s just that good at his job, why shouldn’t you test him out for yourself to see if he really lives up to his name? It’ll be like test driving a car with no intention to buy it whatsoever. Or just going to the showroom for the free biscuits and coffee. No commitment, no getting involved, nothing.

Easy as pie.

A part of you hesitates as you reach for your phone, fingers hovering over the send button long after you’ve typed out your message. Indecision has always been your weak spot.

Oh fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen? You hit the button and send the message to your manager before giving in to temptation and reaching for the rarely used vibrator that you stash away at the corner of your desk drawer.

Tell Park I’m in.

“Mr Park will see you now,” the receptionist gestures you toward a meeting room down the hallway, and you have to force yourself to aim a friendly smile at her instead of just turning right around and leaving immediately.

After having been made to wait a good ten minutes past the agreed meeting time- you can see through the damn meeting room’s glass doors that Jimin is just twiddling his thumbs, doing absolutely nothing at all- you utterly regret your decision. You should never have agreed to work with this prideful asshole.

Park Jimin is absolutely obnoxious. You’ll bet a hundred bucks that he told the poor receptionist to quote that line from Fifty Shades.

“Well well well… look who we have here,” Jimin grins smugly from his seat when you enter, legs spread wide so that your eyes are forced to take in the broad expanse of his well-muscled thighs and slowly travel up… up to-

Already beyond annoyed that you had to come all the way here- your number one rule when it comes to men and business is to let them come to you- you plop yourself down on the plush sofa, feeling out of place in your denim skirt and white shirt. Jimin, as usual, is dressed to the nines, white dress pants stretched tight over his thighs, and his light blue shirt draping slightly off one shoulder.

“What made you change your mind?” Jimin twirls a pen with interest as he crosses one leg over the other, nodding his thanks when a man clad in a full suit sets a tray with tea and coffee on the table. “Let me guess. I’ll bet it was my dick. It was, wasn’t it?”

This man is so full of himself, it makes your temples pound immediately. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to disagree entirely, even as you try not to gape at how luxurious Jimin’s label company is. This entire room alone is bigger than your company’s entire office, and you’ve most certainly never been served tea and biscuits at a contract negotiation before.

“I’m…” you fumble around for a plausible excuse to feed him even as you panic a little. “I’m adopting a cat!”

Jimin’s brows furrow in slight confusion. “O-ookay?”

You want to kick yourself. When you go home today, you need to write out a list of excuses to use in a pinch when cocky bastards ask if you like their dicks. Jimin looks amused as he raises his eyebrows, that stupid infuriating smirk telling you that he sees through your excuse as if it’s nothing but cling wrap. But you’ve made your bed. And now you have to lie in it. “A-and I figured the extra money couldn’t hurt.”

“How much money does one need to adopt a cat?” Jimin queries, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees now. The stupid little punk has a tiny smirk on his lips, but his eyes seem as if he is genuinely curious.

“It’s a… a very expensive cat, a purebred,” you say defensively. You’re just pulling all this out of your ass now, but you can’t, refuse to back down. “He’s gonna need lots of vet checks and toys and um… cat things.”

“Cat things. Right. Very expensive, those. I would know, since I know pussies very intimately.” Jimin nods, the corners of his lips twitching as he struggles to fight back a grin.

“You told her to say that, didn’t you,” you accuse him, desperate to change the subject. “On purpose, just to annoy me.”

Jimin merely raises his brows, taking a slow sip of his tea and staring at you from over the rim of his cup. Stupid, cocky, obnoxious, handsome bastard.

You roll your eyes and tilt your chin toward the reception. “’Mr Park will see you now’.”

Jimin’s eyes light up with mirth immediately as he sets his cup down, licking his lips, feigning innocence. Or ignorance. Or both. “I’m not sure what you mean by that... she is a receptionist, and that is her job, so I’m not sure why you’d think-”

“You were waiting in here doing nothing for ten minutes!” You finally explode, pointing a finger at him. “I fucking saw you through the glass door!”

Jimin seems to be utterly amused by your explosive anger, and he only shrugs nonchalantly. He has this stupid shit eating grin on his face as he revels in your irritation.

“Ah yes, that. I was meditating, you see. Very good way of calming the mind and the body,” Jimin is still grinning from ear to ear as he twiddles his thumbs. “Speaking of, you might want to try it yourself. Maybe you can get rid of some of that... pent up anger.”

You are still fuming at him, grabbing a biscuit off the plate and popping it into your mouth, chewing silently for a few minutes as you continue to seethe. Jimin admits you look cute like this- cheeks puffed out from chewing- bickering with you is actually fun, and it’s entertaining to see how easily he can rile you up.

Jimin silently praises himself for coming up with that idea, beyond pleased that Sandra came through as promised- if only he could have seen the look on your face when she said that to you.

He clears his throat, resting his arms on his knees and lacing his fingers together. “Anyway, before you sign anything, I just wanted you to know what you’re getting yourself into.”

Immediately, you narrow your eyes in suspicion, turning your knees away from his lewd gaze as he eats up the expanse of your legs with his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“I’m sure you know by now, after much… research,” Jimin pauses to lick his lips- that bastard knows exactly what he’s insinuating- as he uncrosses his legs. “You’ll know all about my style, and I guess you could call it a brand that I made for myself. Mainly I do submissive and occasionally softcore dom-“

“Wait, what?” You nearly spit out your coffee. Images of your late night ‘research’ session assault you, and although you would never admit it, Park Jimin is anything but submissive and softcore dom. You remember being awed at his hidden strength as he tosses his girls around, bending them into positions that give the camera the best view, almost felt the stinging sensation of his spanks on your own ass, the sharp bite of his teeth sinking into your own skin, marking you all over. His girls end up thoroughly fucked and marked, and his trademark is that his videos always end with a leaking pussy. Jimin likes to play around with the cunts that he’s fucked, tongue lingering teasingly around his girls’ inner thighs, almost but never quite coming close to licking up the mess that he just made. The video would always cut to black in a very unsatisfying manner, and that’s how you found yourself clicking from one video to another in the hopes of finding one where he actually eats his own cum. Or the fake cum, that is.

“You? Submissive? Softcore?” You nearly snort with laughter. “Maybe in your next lifetime, Park-“

The shit eating grin that spreads across his face lets you know that you’ve been caught red handed. Park Jimin pushes himself off his seat to join you on the sofa, crowding into your space as he sits so close to you that his thigh brushes yours. One arm goes around the back of the sofa to curl around you, and the other casually rests on your bare knee. His agonizingly plump lips just brush against the shell of your ear. “Caught you, princess. Been watching my videos? No wonder you look like you didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“I wasn’t- I just…” words elude you for the nth time today, and a bubble of frustration rises in your chest. Just what is it about this man that makes you so tongue tied, when usually you have no problem saying whatever comes to mind?

“What if I told you I’ve watched every single one of your videos too?” Jimin’s lips ghost across your cheek, following your jawline. “And I like the ones where it’s just you on camera. Your lips sucking my cock, eyes tearing up because I’m fucking your mouth so good. Your pussy getting creamed and filled up so that it leaks everywhere. Your ass bouncing on my cock while you whine and moan because you’re just that. fucking. tight.”

You do all you can to keep your breathing level, even though your body reacts instinctively to his words just as it had the night before. The tone of his voice, the filth that spews from his sweet plush lips awakens your lust once more, lust that you spent the better part of last night trying to quench. The difference is, this time Park Jimin is actually here whispering these words into your ear and you can reach out and just-

His thigh feels like steel under your touch. You slide your fingers up till you almost reach the apex as his breaths on your neck cause your nipples to harden and ache for his tongue.

Abruptly, Jimin draws away with a satisfied smirk on his lips. “There. I think I gave you just a tiny little taste of the weeks to come hmm? Now, let’s go over the contract together, shall we?”

The contract ended up to be pretty standard, nothing you’ve never seen before, except for the exclusive part. You’re bound to Jimin for three shoots exclusively, and over the span of these shoots, you’re not allowed to take on any other projects, and neither is he. As for the actual script and content of each shoot, Jimin left it open to negotiation. But having spent the past few years doing every single porn cliché imaginable, you’re pretty much fresh out of ideas and don’t really mind leaving it up to Jimin, as long as he runs it through you for your approval first. A part of you is actually even a little curious to see what he can cook up that he hasn’t already done.

And with that, you’d just entered an exclusive contract with your nemesis, the man you swore you’d never fuck. He’d turned you down all those years ago and left you high and dry, what’s to say that he won’t do the same again this time? For years after you’d cringe at yourself when you look in the mirror, forced yourself to fight through the crippling panic attacks before every single shoot as his words come to mind again and again.

Everyone is their own worst critic, but your own self-degradation is only bolstered by the ghost of his words uttered when you were at your lowest. Even the memory of letting someone see you at your most desperate and dire causes a physical shudder to run through your body. Never again will you be in such a position.

But at least now if he decides to revert back to his arrogant self again, you’ll be protected by the contract you signed. You’ll make sure to sue his balls off.

When Jimin emails you the first script, you’re too shocked for words when you read through it. It’s nothing he’s ever done before, at least not from what you remember. The premise is you as a high end prostitute being rented out exclusively by CEO Jimin, only he’s found out that you’ve been seeing other customers behind his back. His lines are definitely not soft-core, nowhere near it. It is degrading, slightly humiliating, and there is plenty of name calling.

Just the thought of letting Jimin have the upper hand in this scene brings back all the unpleasant memories, and bile threatens to rise in your throat. It seems like he wasn’t joking when he said he likes to dominate his girls. You know you could always just write him back and tell him that it’s too much, too fast for you. While Jimin might be an insufferable bastard with the biggest ego you’ve ever seen, he isn’t unprofessional. He’ll change the script if you tell him to, no questions asked.

But a stubborn part of you is desperate to prove to him that the events of five years ago no longer hold any power over you. To show him, and maybe yourself too, that you’ve long ago moved on from it. You don’t want to run from it anymore, and the best way to do it would be to accept this script, willingly put yourself in a subservient position below the man who’d rejected and humiliated you all those years ago.

You sigh and reach for a bottle of wine before you read any further. Why can’t moving past trauma be as easy as finishing an entire bottle of wine by yourself?

Nursing a glass of wine, you read on. The kinks… oh god. Spanking, for one. There’s also a part where you’re required to do a lapdance for him, accompanied with stripping. As you read through both your parts, you try and visualise the entire scene in your head. There’s no way you’ll be able to dance confidently, that’s for sure. The rest of it is a slight stretch, but for now that’s the only change you want to make, and you type back a brief line to Jimin.

And then, there’s nothing left to do but search for strip tease videos and learn the heck out of them.

Doing a shoot with Park Jimin has its perks.

Proper make-up artists, for one. And an actual chair to sit in while your hair and makeup gets done professionally. There’s even a manicurist on call who gives you a quick touch up when she sees your bare nails. And the wardrobe… usually the lingerie that gets shoved at you is two sizes too small, scratchy and doesn’t fit well, and even once or twice looks like it hasn’t been washed. But today the stylists prepared a custom fit scarlet lace bralette that supports you just right, enhancing your natural cleavage and making you more confident than you’ve ever been about your tits. The lace of it just skims your waist, accentuating the petite curve of it, while the low rise panties come with matching garters. You’re also given a black lace see through cardigan to drape over your shoulders, and overall the entire outfit is very tasteful, very much your style of not exposing too much skin.

As you sit in the chair and go over the script one last time, you can’t help but feel the nerves right in the pit of your stomach. The makeup artists are working their magic on you, transforming you into an entirely different person altogether, so when you look at yourself in the mirror, it feels foreign. After they’re done, you ask to be left alone just for a moment so you can calm yourself down.

“Hey… how’re you doing?” Wendy approaches you and places her hands on your shoulders from behind. “Okay? Nervous?”

You put on a brave smile for her, meeting her eyes in the mirror. “No, not nervous. I mean, maybe a little.”

“It’s normal,” she reassures you, kneading your shoulders to get at the tense knots. “You’ve never done something so… intense. Actually, I was surprised you even accepted it in the first place.”

You give her a muted shrug as you focus on looking through your script. You haven’t seen Jimin since stepping on set, assuming that he is off somewhere also getting his hair and makeup done.

The director’s assistant pops her head in soon after to let you know that it’s time for the preliminary lighting checks. Placing your script on the table in front of you, you take a deep breath, meeting your own eyes in the mirror once more before sliding your feet into your four inch black heels that you’d been given and making your way to the main set area.

Today’s set is simple- what looks like the interior of a bachelor’s pad. The first scene takes place in the living room over the sofa, and you wait awkwardly by the side for the director’s cue. You notice Jimin laughing and joking with him from afar, giving him a brief side hug before he notices you staring at him and makes his way over.

“Morning,” your co-star greets you with a lazy half smile, and you wobble on your heels, nearly twisting an ankle. Irritated with yourself, you bite your lip hard.

Jimin reaches out to steady you with his hands on your waist through the flimsy material of your cardigan, and when he sees what you’re wearing, he raises an eyebrow in approval. He doesn’t take his hands off your waist, seeing it fit to pull you into his body so that you can feel his hips against yours. You can feel the ice cold metal of his rings on your skin, and it makes you shiver. Jimin doesn’t look all that different since he is wearing a suit, but his hair is slicked back and his makeup dark and smouldering. He exudes an aura of power and control.

“Morning,” you mutter back, taking a step away from him and averting your gaze to calm your racing heart.

Jimin lets you go with a chuckle, but then he glances down at your heels. “Are those bothering you? You should take them off if it’s uncomfortable.”

A little taken aback at his sudden concern, you glance down at your feet. “It’s fine. Maybe later, during the strip tease. For this scene I won’t really be standing much anyway.”

Jimin hums an agreement as he absent mindedly plays with his rings, briefly directing his attention to the set technicians as they adjust the lighting and check the camera angles. Having his eyes off you sets you at ease a little, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, causing Jimin to turn to you.

“You look a little tense,” he comments, noting your crossed arms and hunched shoulders. “Was there anything else you wanted me to change in the script? I’m still open to last minute changes. Don’t force yourself to do anything you’re not comfortable with. I’m serious about that, I’ll handle everything with the director, so don’t hesitate.”

At the mention of the director, you turn your head toward where he is currently surrounded by a few script writers. This director is known for being short tempered and very direct, although of course Jimin has an excellent relationship with him. The director probably doesn’t even know who you are, doesn’t care about a nobody like you.

“Nothing?” Jimin raises his eyebrows. “Last chance to cop out before you forget everything but my name.”

The bastard is grinning like a Cheshire cat now, and in spite of your nerves, it actually sets you at ease to see Jimin acting the way you’ve always known him to be.

“Please. I think it’s you who should be nervous,” you roll your eyes at him, glancing at his crotch pointedly. The material of his dress pants are dark so you can’t really tell if he’s hard or not. “Little Park up to the task today? Or maybe you need me to flash you first? Are you gonna cum once you see my tits?”

The back and forth banter feels familiar. It feels right.

“Are you offering a sneak peek? I’m not in a position to turn that down, although…” Jimin actually reaches forward to grab your hand and pull it to his crotch, and you gasp when you’re met with his semi-erect state. “I’ll make you eat your words today.”

The playful glint in his eyes makes you forget about everything you were nervous about.

“Maybe you should have written in some against the wall action,” you direct your gaze down to his covered thighs. “Your thighs and ass look like they need some work.”

Jimin just laughs as if the thought had never occured to him before. He does suppose his ass has got a little flat recently... and Jimin can think of more than one way to get his famous bubble butt back. One that involves you being naked, on his back while he does some squats.

“You’ll be seeing plenty of my ass and thighs, I assure you,” he lowers his voice as his lips brush against the shell of your ear.

One of the assistant producers directs you on set, and you walk ahead of Jimin and take up your opening position against the back of the sofa. Jimin follows and crowds up against you, every inch of his body against yours as you spread your thighs to accommodate him. He presses his nose into the crook of your neck, his hand running up your side and lifting your cardigan so that your ass is exposed. He cups your cheek with his other hand, and up close like this, it’s actually quite magical to witness Park Jimin getting into character.

All traces of humour and boyish playfulness fades, and in its place is a poker face: eyes hard and unforgiving, jaw clenched with a muscle that jumps in his cheek. His grip around your waist is punishing and no doubt leaving finger marks, yet the way he strokes your cheek is completely opposite; a gentle caress with his thumb on your chin, playing with your bottom lip. Your heart skips a beat from how cold his gaze is.

The director gives his approval for the cameras to start rolling. “Scene one, action!”

“My favourite whore,” Jimin mumbles with a slow smile, eyes dipping down to appreciate your cleavage from his vantage point. His hand leaves your cheek to tangle in your hair, giving it a few firm tugs as the camera focuses on your side profiles. “I’ve missed that mouth of yours around my cock so much.”

He reaches to push the lace cardigan off your shoulders, and it falls to your feet, exposing you to the camera and also to his gaze. Wearing a devious smirk, you let one bra strap fall off your shoulder. “I missed you too, Mr Park.”

“Oh really?” He comments with a raised eyebrow when the other strap falls down too, and you lean forward to show off your cleavage to the camera circling the both of you. “Then maybe you’d care to explain why one of my acquaintances just bragged to me mere hours ago about fucking that sweet pussy of yours?”

As the script calls, you freeze immediately in his gaze. But there is no need for you to put on any sort of pretense, because the look on Jimin’s face is enough to make your heart skip a few beats. He looks genuinely displeased, unimpressed with the little show you’re putting on for him that it makes you doubt if you’re doing a good job at playing the sultry prostitute or not.

He makes his way over to the couch, sitting with his thighs spread, motioning you to stand in between them.

“I-I wasn’t, Mr Park, I just-“

“Save it, dollface,” he waves your excuse away with a disappointed sigh. His eyes travel the length of your body passively. “The terms and conditions of being my whore were clear, were they not? Surely even a slut that’s as cock hungry as you would understand how many girls out there would kill to be my personal fuck toy. I don’t share my toys, and I don’t fuck sloppy seconds either.”

Jimin waits a beat or two before he continues, his voice now a low growl. “Take your panties off, turn around, and bend over. I want to see your pussy.”

Trembling in your heels, you do as he says, inching the lace fabric down over your hips as the camera relocates behind you. The humiliation that burns on your cheeks is real even though you keep reminding yourself that it’s just a scene. You bend over so that your chest touches your thighs, putting yourself fully on display for him. You can only imagine what kind of view the camera; and by extension, Jimin, is getting now.

“Spread your lips with your fingers. Let me see inside,” he demands, and you reach back to pull apart your already damp pussy lips with both hands.

“Look at that,” Jimin marvels. “Didn’t even bother to clean up before you came over to fuck me. What a fucking cumslut you are, you let him cum in your pussy? You think you could fool me? Make me take disgusting sloppy seconds?”

There is a hitch in your breath when Jimin goes slightly off script, mentioning cum that isn’t in your pussy. Thankfully you aren’t too far gone to think on your feet. “N-no Sir! I made him use a condom.”

A sudden sharp sting on your ass elicits a cry from you.

“It still doesn’t excuse your behaviour. In case you forgot, I’ll remind you again. Your. Pussy. Is. Mine.” Jimin punctuates each word with a slap, causing you to wobble on your heels as your walls clench around nothing. “Dripping for me already?”

You can feel your pussy start to drip down your inner thighs, and a blush heats up your cheeks involuntarily.

“Why don’t you get on my thigh and show me how sorry you are, and maybe I’ll consider letting you suck my cock. And lose the bra.”

Scrambling to kick off your underwear, you turn around to face Jimin again, and he is leaning back against the sofa, a proud smirk on his lips as he spreads his thighs invitingly. You manage to take a few steps towards him before Jimin grabs your waist and pulls you down, situating his firm, thick thigh right against your bare center. Embarrassingly, you can feel yourself start to soak through his dress pants almost immediately as he watches your chest heave with an unimpressed raise of his eyebrow.

Jimin tugs down the lace cups of your bra to expose your breasts, pinching your nipples harshly. “What’s a slut like you doing wearing underwear? Cumwhores like you should go around with a bare pussy, since you like cock so much, hmmm? Don’t you think?”

With his hands around your hips securing you on his lap, Jimin makes eye contact with you for a brief second to check your reaction. Imperceptibly, his thumb brushes against your skin softly, and the touch reassures you that it’s all just for the camera, and you relax slightly.

“Yes, sir,” you whisper as you arch your hips up, showing the camera your pussy and Jimin’s soaked lap.

“Good girl, now grind like you mean it,” Jimin spits onto your right nipple, watching perversely as his saliva drips over your erect bud, soaking the red lace.

With a moan, you begin to work your hips against his thigh, feeling his muscles tense to give you just the right amount of friction. Your clit rubs against him just right, and Jimin reaches down to spank your ass before he gropes it lewdly.

“That’s it… fuck, I knew a whore like you’d be good at this. Show me how much you want my cock. Look at your dirty pussy, you made such a mess of me.” He spreads your ass cheeks apart to show the camera your tight asshole, and you lift your hips for a moment to grant your poor clit some reprieve before you cum prematurely like a rookie. Jimin reprimands you with a sharp slap. “Did I say you could stop, whore?”

With a barely concealed whimper, you lower your cunt onto his thigh and start to grind again, but Jimin shoves you off roughly, and you land on the couch with your thighs spread, pussy already red and swollen. Jimin pushes himself to his feet with a disappointed sigh as he looks at you, utterly unimpressed as he delivers a spank to your clit, followed by three more. You sob and cry for mercy, thighs quivering as you jerk and wriggle on the couch, trying to close your legs.

“Keep your fucking legs spread, or I’ll have to tie you to a spreader bar,” Jimin growls as he digs his nails into the soft flesh of your inner thigh. His eyes are hard, cruel and cold as he spanks you a few more times. “Sluts like you should know how to keep their legs spread right?”

“Please, Sir, please,” you pant and whine, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes as he soothes the crescent shaped indents with a caress.

“Give me one reason why you deserve my cock. A dirty little whore like you who fucks every man she meets.” Jimin slaps your clit again before spitting at it in disgust. You can feel his saliva on your clit, dripping down over your slit. “That’s all you are; a desperate, cock hungry slut.”

“M-make it yours,” you gasp, thighs trembling in Jimin’s grasp even as your breath comes in uneven heaves, cheeks burning in humiliation that is all too real. “Make my cunt yours, Sir.”

“Should I?” Jimin pretends to consider for a moment, and the ice cold sensation of his rings against your skin are the only thing keeping you sane right now. Your cunt is throbbing, desperate for any kind of relief, you are covered in sweat, tears and Jimin’s spit, utterly wrecked and he hasn’t even taken off a single article of clothing yet. “We’ll see how well you suck cock, whore. Get up.”

“And cut!” The director calls an end to the first scene, and Jimin immediately releases his grip on your thighs.

The director’s voice is like a wakeup call, and you take in the sight of the cameras and crew surrounding you with a renewed clarity. The cut came at a good time; for a moment there you almost forgot that this is merely a scene from a porn script, and it’s never happened to you before. Your breaths are coming in harsh pants and you recognise that you are about to hyperventilate if you don’t regulate your breathing soon.

You push yourself to a seating position and close your thighs, taking a moment to regain your senses as Jimin crouches in front of you. He is fussing with a tissue at your tearstained cheeks even though there are two make-up artists hovering behind him, and you are thrown off by this 180 degree change.

“I didn’t hurt you did I?” Jimin frowns as he glances at your thighs. “I cut my nails this morning, but…”

“I’m fine,” your voice is wobbly as you push his hand away and get to your feet, stepping around him and letting the makeup artists do their thing. Letting your impeccable mask slide back into place as the tears are sponged off your face. A few swipes of a brush here and there, and they step back. And you are good as new. No sign whatsoever to indicate that you were this close to almost breaking into tears.

Jimin is still way too close for comfort, you feel as if having him look at you up close like this is enough for him to realise how affected you were by that scene. And that’s not something you’re willing to divulge just yet.

Jimin looks as if he’s about to protest, but then the director cuts in, ordering everyone to move to the bedroom for the next scene. You start to walk towards the set, but Jimin stops you with a hand on your wrist.

“Hey, look at me. Are you okay? I need to know before we go any further,” his grip on you is insistent as he pins you in place with his eyes. “This is a rough scene and I need you to tell me when you need a break or if it gets too much.”

Jimin is genuinely concerned as he searches your expression, refusing to relinquish his grip on you till you give him an answer. He doesn’t seem to care that the director is left waiting on the new set; all his attention is focused on you only.

“The dialogue was a little much,” you admit as you look away from him, crossing your arms over your naked chest self-consciously. The thought of admitting just how much it affected you nearly makes you sick to your stomach. “But it’s fine. I just need to get used to it.”

Jimin releases a breath as he nods to himself. “Good. And also- I should have asked you this earlier, but my partners and I have a signal we use for each other during scenes to act as a non-verbal safeword. Are you familiar with that kind of practice?”

You hesitate a little before answering, since it’s hard to reconcile this Jimin with the domineering, cold man just moments ago. Also, you’ve never done shoots that even came close to requiring such a protocol. “No. I can’t say I’m very familiar with that.”

“Just touch my earlobe once if you need to slow down. Twice to stop completely.” He says as he begins to lead you to the bedroom. “In my shoots, my girls have all the power. Just one word from them and everything stops. I’m serious, ______.”

Thrown off by how seriously he takes all this, you take a seat on the foot of the bed first. Hearing him refer to you as ‘his girl’ admittedly makes you a little giddy, and what makes it worse is when Jimin kneels down between your thighs with one hand stroking your knee, eyes fixed on you intently as he studies your expression. You’d never expected this degree of attention and concern from your co-star, but it seems as if your pre-conceived notions about Park Jimin may have been wrong.

You’re aware that every single pair of eyes in the room is on you, waiting for your signal to go ahead. Suddenly you don’t feel like the no-name extra on set any more like you’re used to. Even the director himself looks concerned as he strides over to check if everything is alright, calling over a few scriptwriters too. It’s clear that they are all waiting for your approval to go ahead, and you just barely hear Jimin’s voice when he checks in with you.

“Hey, you okay? Get her some water,” he says to an assistant, but you wave her away.

“I’m fine, it’s fine,” you scramble to reassure everybody. “We can continue, really. I’m good.”

“You sure?” Jimin confirms one last time, and you reply with a nod. Then, all the crew and the director return to their assigned spots, and you shift off the bed onto your knees to prepare for the next scene.

Jimin positions himself in front of you so that his crotch is directly at eye level, and you realise that he’s only half hard. It must have been all the delay in between scenes, but when you consider helping him out, Jimin looks down at you, and you can feel his eyes appraising every inch of your body.

“You look so good down there on your knees. Can I?” Jimin palms himself with one hand and the other reaches down, gently cupping your breast when you nod.

The cameras aren’t even rolling yet, and the director is busy checking some camera angle, so you whisper-hiss at Jimin, “what are you doing?”

“What does it look like?” He shrugs nonchalantly, rolling a nipple between his fingers and tugging at it, letting it go to watch how your breast bounces. “I’m getting myself hard. Usually I’d sneak a pill right about now, but with you around I don’t think I need it. Maybe you’re my Viagra.”

“Gee, thanks, what an honour,” you grumble under your breath, but you can’t really complain because his warm hands feel quite nice on your skin. The air conditioning is ramped up on set, so your skin feels a little chilly, but Jimin continues to massage and tweak your nipples, and you can feel yourself start to drip onto the floor, shifting from your position to rub your thighs together.

His knowing, cocky grin irks the shit out of you as he switches to the other breast, abandoning his grip on his dick to push both tits together as he admires your cleavage. “Y’know, I think I’ll write in some titty fucking in the next one. What do you think about that?”

“Let’s see if you even have that much dick first,” you quip back at him just as the director calls for everyone to be on standby.

“Rolling for scene two, let’s go!”

Immediately Jimin’s face shuts down into a cold, sombre expression as he slaps your breasts hard. You feel the heavy weight of them swinging under his gaze as he buries one hand into the hair at the base of your neck as he tugs your head up to look at him.

“Take me out. No hands, use that filthy mouth of yours, whore,” Jimin’s voice is bone-chillingly sharp, and you rush to do as he says.

Undoing his dress pants and dragging down his zipper with your teeth is something you’re practically an expert at, having done it for practically every single shoot since you started porn. It’s part of the niche that you carved for yourself as the innocent, angel incarnate. You can tell that Jimin is slightly surprised at how fast you are and how easily you drag his pants down to reveal his fully hard cock by the slight widening of his eyes before he covers it up by slapping his cock against your cheek, leaving a sticky trail of precum.

You can see the pleasure in his face when he drags his cock all over your face, ruining your makeup as he slaps his cock against your cheek several times. You open your mouth for him, showing him your tongue as Jimin buries his cock into your mouth at an angle, pushing against the side of your mouth and thrusting a few times so that your cheek protrudes obscenely. Then he lies his dick on the centre of your face so that your mouth touches his balls and his tip is leaking onto your forehead, precum dripping down your skin. This is ultimate degradation, your face is used as nothing but a bed for his cock.

“Lick my balls like the cockslut you are. Don’t miss a single inch, bitch.”

You comply and lave his balls with your tongue reverently, taking them into your mouth as Jimin spreads his thighs for the camera to get a good view. You take one of them into your mouth and suck on it, wishing you could play with the other one with your hands. He feels big in your mouth, heavy on your tongue as you roll him around, coating his balls in saliva. Jimin pulls your head away and pushes his cockhead against your lips, demanding you to open up for him.

You part your lips and he slides in almost immediately, sinking all the way into your throat without a warning. He may not be as big as some of your other co-stars you’ve had before, but damn is he thick. Your eyes water immediately and you gag a little, to which Jimin grunts in approval as he strokes your cheek.

“Choking already? Shouldn’t a whore like you do better than that? Show me how well you can suck dick, I know you’re better than this.”

You glance up to meet Jimin’s eyes directly- with the camera focusing on your face, Jimin lets his stone cold expression loosen a little as he raises an eyebrow- issuing you a direct challenge. Somehow the mischievous spark in his eyes motivates you to reduce him to nothing but a whining, moaning mess just with your mouth, so you force down your gag reflex and start sucking him as if your life depends on it.

Spit and saliva is everywhere- all over his dick, covering your chin, dripping down to your breasts- but you don’t give in as you deepthroat him completely, swallowing a few times before pulling back and running your tongue along the veins of his cock. Jimin is so thick that your jaw actually starts to ache, but a tiny little flicker in his expression when you let his head touch the back of your throat spurs you on. Somewhere in the distance you can hear the director’s approval, but all you can concentrate on is the sloppy sounds emanating from your own mouth, and Jimin’s dark, heady gaze trained on you as he supports your head with his hand, gathering your hair into a messy ponytail.

He is biting his lip hard, a surefire sign that you’re affecting him at least a little bit. Jimin, for his part, is doing his best to fuck your throat evenly and keep his expression unreadable, but when your throat closes and grips his dick, he has to pull you off his cock before he loses his load way too early.

Jimin can see the look of triumph on your face as you pant for air, lipstick smeared around your lips and mascara running down your cheeks. He grips his dick at the base hard, breathing heavily for a few moments to regain control before he bends down to grab you by the waist, tossing you onto the bed.

“Arch for me,” Jimin whispers just under his breath, palm smoothing along the dip in your back. There is a grunt of approval when you push your ass out for his viewing pleasure. “I knew you were good with that mouth, but your punishment isn’t over yet, baby.”

A visible shudder runs throughout your entire frame at the unexpected nickname, exacerbated by the way Jimin strokes the small of your back almost reverently. He spreads your ass cheeks apart to appraise your most intimate parts, and he chuckles when he sees your dripping pussy.

“So here’s what’s going to happen next,” Jimin palms a handful of your ass as he strokes his dick with the other. “I’m going to spank this pretty ass, and you’re not allowed to make a single noise. If you do, there will be consequences.”

Your cheek against the mattress, ass up high for Jimin, you can feel yourself start to drip down your thigh. “Wh-what consequences, Sir?”

Jimin makes no answer, but suddenly you feel the blunt head of his cock against your unlubed asshole, and you pretend to whine and wriggle away from his grasp.

“No, Sir please, please not there,” you are struggling as Jimin grips your waist and pulls you against him just as the script calls for.

“It starts now, slut. Every little noise you make means one inch in your tight ass.” Jimin pulls your cheeks apart to see the head of his cock pressed against your asshole, and he delivers a slap to your right cheek before he leans down so that his tongue traces your earlobe. “I’ll go up to fifteen today, I think. And as much as I’d like to tear that pretty ass open… I’d advise you to keep quiet, dollface.”

Jimin has one hand on the base of his cock, the other alternating between your left and right cheeks, so that your skin burns a bright red with every strike. You can feel Jimin actually putting in his full effort with every slap, not the kind of half-hearted pretending that you’re used to with your co-stars. On his seventh slap you can’t help but cry out into the sheets, the burn on your skin radiating right down to your clit, and Jimin clucks his tongue in disappointment.

“We were so close too…” Jimin sighs as he taps his cock few times at your tight entrance, and you sob in response, clenching your muscles automatically. You can feel Jimin chuckle in amusement as he draws his cock away for a brief moment, and you hear him spit, before feeling a wet and warm substance drip down your asshole. He spreads it around a little with the head of his cock, and despite your scripted pleas and cries, Jimin pushes his cock into your barely lubed ass.

“How’s that feel, slut?” He murmurs as he caresses your bright red and sore ass.

All you have is his saliva and precum lubing you up, but it doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. You can feel Jimin’s tender touches on your waist as his way of checking in with you, and the minute action sets you at ease even though you can’t see or touch him to activate your safeword.

“It-it hurts, Sir,” your voice is a low sob as you bury your cheek into the soft bedding, amidst all your arousal, it’s a wonder how you can still remember your lines.

“Then you’ll keep that slutty mouth of yours shut the next time,” Jimin responds with another strike, and this time he can feel the way your muscles clench around his cock, and he swears under his breath, grabbing a handful of your ass to keep him grounded. “Fuck, I can feel your tight little ass around my cock. What a disgusting whore you are, so desperate to get fucked up the ass, hmm?”

Jimin spits again, and his saliva lands right on his cock buried in your ass. He withdraws the tip just a little to work his spit into your ass, as he delivers more spanks. You manage to bite back your cries until the twelfth strike, where you barely whimper against the sheets, but Jimin’s keen ears pick it up. His hips work to drive his cock another inch into your ass, spreading your cheeks apart so that the camera captures every sordid detail.

His cock isn’t the biggest you’ve ever taken, but having him slowly go deeper into your ass like this somehow makes it feel as if he’s stretching you out so good. Your muscles are trembling and you can barely remember to keep your back arched for the camera and Jimin, but if he feels this big in your ass only two inches in, how is he going to feel when he’s balls deep? You clench involuntarily around him on that thought, and a part of you is tempted to just fuck the script and make him bury himself inside your ass fully.

Jimin completes the fifteen slaps sooner than you would have liked, and he rewards you with a kiss between your shoulder blades as he smooths his hands over your ass, pulling his dick out slowly to watch your ass gape for him and the camera.

“Fuck, that’s so hot. Turn around and legs spread, whore, I want to fuck you now,” Jimin climbs onto the bed on his knees, hand on his cock guiding himself to your soaked entrance.

His hands grip the back of your knees, forcing your thighs apart for him as he sinks his cock into your pussy. The burn of his penetration nearly makes your eyes roll back into your head- the satisfying girth of him stretches you wide in ways that you’ve never felt before. Jimin works his way deep into your pussy with small strokes, finally bottoming out with your legs on his shoulders and his balls against your ass.

“How are you so fucking tight still? After fucking so many men,” Jimin grunts as he secures your thighs against his chest, leaning over your body and folding you in half. “How many cocks have you had other than mine? Answer me!”

His mouth is against your neck, teeth sinking into your flesh as he marks you. Between his deep thrusts hitting your cervix and his hands around your neck, the cold metal of his rings digging into your skin, it’s all you can do to summon your lines from the recesses of your memory. “Just o-one Sir, I swe-ar, please.”

“Stupid fucking whore,” he growls as he slaps your cheek hard. “How dare you fucking lie to me? Your slutty pussy needs to be stuffed with cock all the time, and you dare tell me you only fucked one other man? I’ll say it was at least five. Five cocks have been in this whore cunt. Tell me, did you make them take turns? Or did you get fucked by two dicks at once?”

“I di-didn’t, please, I’m sorry Sir,” your voice comes in sobs and whines. You scrabble for purchase against his still clothed torso, and you wish you could feel his heated skin under your fingers, mark him with your nails.

“Did you let them cum inside?” Jimin demands again, drawing back and pushing your thighs to your chest so that he can see his cock spreading your pussy lips apart, see your tiny little clit practically begging for attention. “Tell me!”

“No, I didn’t,” you answer him immediately, and something about the possessiveness of his voice seems a little too real, the jealous glint in his eyes that fuels his anger sends a very real thrill that sings through your veins. All you can see is his dark eyes as he fucks into you with his cock, and it is a gaze that is all-consuming, a gaze that makes you forget about all the cameras and the crew, erases them from the background until it is just you and him alone.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll fuck all their cum out of you,” Jimin holds your legs apart as he drives himself deeper into your cunt, stopping when he’s balls deep. “No one can ever fuck you as deep and hard as I can.”

The sounds of skin against skin resonates throughout the set, accompanied by your whines and sobs as Jimin sneaks a hand down to rub your clit even though it isn’t in the script. Caught unaware by his sudden move, it sends you over the edge as you orgasm around him, walls clenching deliciously and body contorting under his grip, screaming his name. He fucks you through your orgasm without missing a beat, and you moan and thrash under his grip from overstimulation, but Jimin only grips your waist with both hands.

“Take it, fucking take my cock, you whore,” he demands as sweat drips down his forehead. “I’m gonna cum so deep inside your pussy, and you’re taking every drop. After that you’re going to walk out of here with cum dripping down your thighs so that everyone knows what a cum slut you are. My favourite little cumslut.”

His thrusts are getting harder and sloppier as a few assistants crowd around behind him, ready to deliver the fake cumshot, but Jimin waves them away impatiently. He can feel his balls churning with the biggest load of his life, and with the camera trained on your bouncing tits, he glances at the director to let him know he’s ready. With the director’s go ahead, he skips to his final few lines just before he cums.

“You ready for my cum, slut? Say it, I want to hear you beg me to cum inside you.” Jimin slaps your cheek once with measured strength. “Fucking beg, or else I’ll finish all over your tits instead.”

“Fuck, no please, don’t cum on my tits,” your mouth is open, clinging on to Jimin’s shoulders as he fucks you into the bed, pounding your cunt with every last bit of strength he has. “In my pussy, please cum in my pussy. I want it, so fucking bad, please sir!”

Jimin is apparently pleased with your begging, and he rewards you with a rare smile, stroking your cheek to soothe the stinging slap he gave you earlier. “Good girl… that’s my cumslut.”

You glance down to where his cock is fucking in and out of your pussy, and Jimin focuses the rest of his attention to hitting you as deep as possible, throwing his head back and letting out a strangled moan as he cums deep inside you, filling you with warm, real cum for the first time in any of your shoots. The real stuff feels so good, so wet and messy, and Jimin’s cock twitching against your walls feels intimate as he thrusts to prolong his orgasm.

From your vantage point you have a front row seat to watch Park Jimin as he revels in his pleasure, and everything from his moans to the way he throws his head back is entirely intoxicating, and you find yourself squeezing your walls around him to prolong his pleasure.

“Fuck, that’s my whore,” he pants as he slowly comes back to his senses, allowing the camera to zoom in on your cunt as he slowly slips out of your used core.

Following the tradition of every one of his videos, Park Jimin gets on his elbows and spreads your pussy lips wide, showing off the globs of real cum that drip from your center as you squeeze your walls to make it even messier. He whispers praise against your skin as he dips two fingers into the unholy mess and coats your clit with it, rubbing you to a final orgasm that makes you whimper and moan, fingers clutching the sheets and hips bucking under his grasp.

“And that’s a cut! Well done everyone!” The director interrupts with a gleeful clapping of his hands, but to your surprise, Jimin doesn’t move from his position between your thighs, not even when his manager comes up behind him with his robe and a bottle of water.

He is still staring at his cum leaking in a steady stream from your pussy, running his fingers through it and playing with your folds with an intrigued look on his face. When you make a move to get up, he glances at you first, then at his manager.

“Hyung, just give me a minute?” Jimin directs this at Sejin, and the older man looks a little confused, but nods and turns away. Around the two of you, all the crew is starting to dismantle the equipment and hurrying around, but Jimin remains focused on you. “Can I?”

“C-can you… what?” Now that the scene is over and the cameras are off, it’s as if the spell has been broken, you are once again self-conscious and all too aware of how vulnerable you seem to be around this man. When Jimin dips his eyes to your pussy and back up to your eyes, your heart nearly stops in your chest. He can’t possibly be… why would he want to…?

“Can I?” Jimin strokes his thumbs against your inner thighs softly, placing a gentle kiss on one side as he licks his lips. “Please? I really want to.”

Breathless, you nod at him, afraid that one more word out of you will make Jimin realise exactly what he’s offering to do, and that he’ll snap out of his lust induced haze. And then gone will be that genuine smile that lights up his entire face, only to be replaced by the condescending smirk that you know all too well.

Jimin starts with wet kisses on both inner thighs, kissing his way to your soaked lips as he begins to gently lick up his spilled cum, gathering it with his fingers to make sure he gets every last drop. This is the scene that you’d been waiting for all this time, clicked through nearly a hundred of his videos in vain. But nothing could compare to seeing it live and up close in person like this. Watching him eat you out when there are no cameras around is strangely intimate, what’s even weirder is the way he maintains eye contact as he continues to suck at your clit, his own cum smeared around his lips as he eats your pussy as if it’s the best dessert in the world.

“Delicious,” he draws back and wipes the back of his mouth with his hand. “Your pussy tastes exactly like how I imagined it. Better with my cum too.”

You clear your throat, still a little sore from deepthroating him earlier as you awkwardly close your legs and scoot away from him, feeling a burning desire to get as far away from this damned man as you can before he sees right through you. “Do you do that with all your co-stars?”

“Would you be jealous if I did?” He shoots you a cocky little wink as he gets to his feet, reaching over to help you up from the bed with his hands around your waist, dipping down to inspect a few bruises on your neck with his fingers. His touches are so gentle and tender that they don’t hurt at all, but you brush him away.

“Jealous? Who? Me?” You laugh it off as Wendy hands you your robe and you snuggle into the warmth of it. As you hide your naked body from his view, your walls come back up, and the defensive mask slides back into place. “You wish, Park. Although I might have to be a little concerned, since fake cum tastes like shit.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know,” he shrugs. “I only eat the real stuff, and it wasn’t bad, for a first taste.”

Jimin lets his eyes linger on yours for a few moments to allow his words sink in before he turns away to pull on a pair of grey sweatpants and perhaps review the footage a little. “Rest well before next week.”

This is just ironic. Plain and simple, Park Jimin is trying to mess with you.

The second script is a cardinal sin. That’s all you can describe it as. Father Park Jimin with a Catholic schoolgirl confessing her sins in a confession booth.

You run your fingers through your hair in distress. Noting that the costume requirements are red plaid skirt and white shirt. As you read through the entire script, it is a short one, but still present are the elements of degradation and humiliation that require you to position yourself as subservient to the man who shattered your hopes and dreams all those years ago.

It must be a coincidence. There’s no way Park Jimin remembers exactly what he said to you all those years ago.

For you, it might have been a life or death experience that remains etched in your memory forever. But for him, it was just another day on another set humiliating some poor rookie.

It’s fine. You did it once before and you survived. So who’s to say you won’t survive this one either? You are stubborn and obstinate, you refuse to write that damn email to Jimin and tell him you can’t do this. So you just have to pussy up and fucking commit to this, dammit. Just two more damn shoots.

You have to give it to him though, he is pretty creative as a scriptwriter himself. Or maybe these are just his lewd fantasises?

Thankfully there’s nothing in this script that requires any preparation, other than learning your lines. Over the next few days as you go about your routine on none schedule days- working out at the gym, indulging in wine and movies, you can’t help but keep the pit of nerves at bay in your stomach. Acknowledging them would give it too much power over you.

When shoot day comes, you nervously change into the outfit provided for you once you reach on set. Donning these clothes bring with them a hoard of heart pounding memories and associations, and it’s all that you can do not to throw up right then and there. You are unusually sweaty as you sit in the chair for hair and makeup.

“Everything okay?” Your makeup artist checks in with you as she powders your nose for the third time. “Nervous?”

You pretend to laugh it off a little. “Yeah, a bit.”

“From what I heard, you and Jimin killed it last shoot,” she grins at you as she replaces the cap on one of her lip glosses. “Don’t need to sweat. Just keep doing whatever you did last time.”

You accept her encouragement with a strained smile even as you stare at yourself in the mirror. From your vantage point, it feels as if you have regressed to that shy, insecure girl from five years ago- you might as well be looking at her now. The same scared expression, except maybe the clothes are better fitting and you’ve definitely grown into your body a little.

“Ready?” The director’s assistant pops her head in with a smile. “We’re all set up and raring to go.”

Shakily, you get up from your chair and follow her with a wobble in your step and an uneven breath. The plaid skirt is tight around your waist and restricts your breathing a little, but you force it to the back of your mind as you see Jimin adjusting his robe. Today he has his hair in a deep side part off his forehead with circle glasses perched at the end of his nose. The rest of him is concealed in long priest robes, and when he spots you, his face lights up.

“______! What do you think of my outfit?” He flourishes his robes and raises his eyebrows. Typical of him to ask someone to tell him how good he looks. Park Jimin looks damn good alright, and he knows it, but it’s not enough unless someone compliments him.

“Very, um… sinful,” you offer him half-heartedly before turning away to let your stylist adjust your hair. You are not in the mood to jibe with him today, even less to stroke his ego.

“What did you think of the script? You didn’t reply to my email, and I realised I don’t have your phone number so I can’t contact you except through your manager, so…” Jimin frowns as he turns to face you. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

His comment catches you off guard. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Me. Committing a cardinal sin. Like I said all those years ago,” Jimin casually turns to face the set, fluffing his hair with a careless hand. “I’m really getting my just desserts, aren’t I?”

A sharp intake of breath betrays your surprise, and you cross your arms tightly over your chest, wanting so badly to just disappear right at that moment. He remembers? He can’t have. Why would someone like Park Jimin remember some fleeting comment he made about not wanting to fuck a rookie? Sure, it may have cut deep for you, but surely for him it can’t have been that memorable. Is he doing all this just to mess with you? What could he possibly want?

“_____? Why aren’t you saying anything?” Jimin’s expression turns sombre as the cocky look on his face disappears. “Is it the script? Is it too much? I can change it if you need me to-“

“Is this some kind of joke?” You accuse him, deciding to just strike first with aggression rather than risk being ridiculed in front of the entire crew later. “Some kind of sick little torture to recreate… this? For your own twisted pleasure?”

Faced with your overly defensive posture reminds him that he’s not dealing with that girl from five years ago anymore. You have changed, the years hardening you over and coating you in a hard little shell that’s almost impossible to break through. Jimin almost wonders why you always immediately assume that everyone is out to belittle or hurt you, but then he realises with a guilty start that it’s partially his own fault.

Blame it all on the stupid arrogant jerk he was five years ago.

“No, it’s not a joke, and neither is it some petty revenge,” Jimin says as calmly as he can. “I don’t know if its sunken in by now, but I told you before that in my shoots, my girls have all the power. So yes, at surface level it may seem like I’m dominating and humiliating you, but what the camera doesn’t see is that you are the one who controls me. A single word from you and I stop.”

His breath is stuck somewhere in his chest. Never before has he felt so vulnerable in front of someone else. Not only do you seem to throw a wrench in the casual uninterested disposition he’s carved out for himself with it comes to his co-stars, there’s something about the way you truly hold his heart in the palm of your hand, even if you don’t know it yet.

Your eyes are brimming with disbelief, posture still defensive as the director calls for everyone to take their places. But you remain silent, thinking his words over as you heed the instructions given by the crew. Jimin follows you closely till you stop just outside the small wooden confession box.

His hands are slightly sweaty as he steps in front of you. Reaching out slowly, to gauge your reaction, Jimin gently places his hand on your chin to tilt your head up towards him. “I’ve always been a believer in actions speaking louder than words. I know you still think of me as that arrogant small dicked jerk who can’t think about anyone other than himself. But let me prove to you that I’ve changed. That’s why I wrote this scene. I want to show you that you are the one in control of me, not the other way around.”

Looking into your eyes, Jimin can see the residual fear and trauma leftover from that incident all those years ago. Silently he begs for a chance, knowing full well that you could just walk out right now and he can’t do a damn thing. Just one chance for him to remedy his mistakes and prove to you that he’s a changed man.

“Let’s get this over with,” you say as you turn and step inside the box, and Jimin lets out a sigh of relief as a staff member ushers him into the other side.

Your knees are shaking slightly as you perch on the chair inside the confession box. Separating you and Jimin is a mesh screen that obscures most of his features, and on the table in front of you are a few props- some candles, a rosary and a fake Bible that looks almost real.

“Scene one rolling in three, two, one… action!”

You pick up the rosary in front of you, feeling the beads with your fingers as you settle into your role, trying your best to drown out your obsessive thoughts and worries. The dark confession booth lends you some anonymity- you’re sure that the lighting has been purposely fixed so that the camera can only catch a glimpse of your silhouette.

“Father, forgive me, for I have sinned,” you recite your first line, clasping the rosary beads in your hands and bowing your head in repentance. “I have come here to confess, Father, to a terrible sin that has been occupying my mind and soul for the past few weeks.”

“Pray, tell my child. What is bothering you?” Jimin’s low, soothing voice comes from the other side. “The truth shall set you free.”

“In school, I can’t concentrate on the lessons, and in mass, my mind is always somewhere else… lately I’ve been feeling so restless, Father,” you sigh, resting your head in your hands. “My thoughts haven’t exactly been… pure.”

There is a brief noise from the other side, as if Jimin is shifting in his seat. “What kind of thoughts are you having? Child, if you do not come clean with me, I cannot cleanse you of your sins.”

You play it up for the camera as it focuses on your face, wearing an expression of conflict, embarrassment and distress all in one. This script that Jimin wrote really tests your acting abilities. “U-unholy ones, Father. They get worse at night, when it’s just me alone in my bed… I can’t help it, it just gets so unbearable…”

“Child, sins of the flesh are against the Holy Scripture,” Jimin clucks in disappointment, and you can feel his look of disapproval singe your skin directly, even though you can’t even see his face. “What do you do in your bed when you’re all alone? Are you engaging with these unholy thoughts? Come clean with your Father if you want absolution.”

“I…” you swallow hard in embarrassment, pressing your thighs tightly together as you tug your skirt down, playing the role of the innocent school girl. The skirt is barely long enough for you to sit on, so you can feel your ass, left bare by the thong you’re wearing underneath it, come into direct contact with the chair underneath you. “I… I touch myself, Father.”

Another sigh of disappointment from Jimin as you hear him flipping a few pages of the fake Bible. “You have to be more specific, my child. Where do you touch yourself? Tell me, or else I cannot help you, and you shall be damned to Hell.”

“M-my… I touch myself… down there,” you whimper, feeling yourself dampen against your thong as you start to grind into the chair, thighs parting sinfully as the camera relocates itself to between your legs. You give it a few glimpses of your covered core as your hips rotate slowly. “Please don’t make me say any more, Father… it’s so sinful, so embarrassing, and I…”

There is a slam on the other side as if Jimin has closed the Bible forcefully. “A sinful whore like you, embarrassed? I think not. Look at yourself. Confessing to your Father that you touch yourself, and you can’t even bring yourself to say the word ‘pussy’. You think you’re still an innocent little girl, but your actions tell me otherwise. Go on with your confession, slut. We’re not done yet.”

You whimper as your thong is getting more and more soaked, and your breasts are heaving against your tight shirt. “I… I think about it at school too, Father. At mass. I sneak out in the middle to rub myself in the toilet, and then I… I come back to mass. Sweaty and my fingers still sticky.”

“In school too?” Father Jimin’s voice is a low purr now that sends shockwaves all the way to your core, and you can’t help but rub yourself against the chair, legs parting all the way. To a certain extent, the embarrassment on your cheeks is real, for Jimin has yet to touch you or even see you to get you this worked up, and even though you despise it, his degrading and humiliating words only serve to spur you on and add to your performance.

He surely knows how to bring out the best of you.

“What about boys?” Father Jimin suddenly demands. “Do you have a boyfriend? Do you let him touch your sweet little pussy? Put his fingers inside you at mass while you recite the Holy Scripture? Rub your pretty little clit until your sinful mouth cries out? I bet a little slut like you wants all the cock she can get. Tell me, do you lift your little plaid skirt for any boy who passes by?”

Hearing the jealousy and possessiveness in his voice only sends a fresh wave of arousal to soak your panties, and at this point you’re pretty sure that the chair is wet too.

“No! No Father Jimin, no boys,” you beg and plead earnestly. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

Jimin makes a low groan in his throat, a noise that makes your nipples ache. “Fuck, then you’re a tease. Nothing but a little cocktease. Look at you. Do you really think I don’t know you’re rubbing your little pussy against the chair while you confess your sins?”

You gasp in shock as the script calls for, hips immediately stilling. “Father Jimin, please, I can’t help myself.”

“If I have any say in it, your sweet pussy will remain pure and untouched except by the Father himself,” Jimin groans lowly from the other side, and you can hear his slight panting. “Tell me, my child. Do you want to receive forgiveness for your carnal sins?”

“Yes,” you gasp immediately, feeling your hips jerk and your clit catch deliciously against the chair through your soaked underwear. “Please, Father forgive me. For I have sinned.”

“Ask and you shall be rewarded, seek and you shall find,” Jimin says as he gets up from his chair. “Bend over the table for me, sweet child.”

Raising yourself on shaky legs, you prop the upper half of your body on the table, back arched as the camera relocates behind you to give Jimin time to cross over from his side of the confession booth. You can feel your thigh high socks rub against each other as your thighs chafe in your impatience.

“Look how slutty you are in your school uniform… fuck, boys would be all over this ass in an instant,” Jimin gives you a harsh spank to your right cheek, and you gasp and writhe under him. “In order for me to rid you of your sins, I have to thoroughly cleanse you here.”

His fingers massage your ass, splitting your cheeks open and revealing your most intimate places to him and the camera. Jimin runs his fingers along your inner thigh, just shy of your thigh high socks, up until he brushes against your swollen pussy lips. The crotch of your little white thong is soaked, and Jimin uses his fingers to push it into your pussy.

“That’s it, sweet child… show Father Jimin all your sins,” he massages your panties deeper into your pussy with two fingers. “Show Father Jimin how sweet your pussy looks when its stuffed.”

“Father,” you whine low in your throat, wiggling your ass against his thighs. To which he responds with a sharp spank on your left cheek that smarts.

“On your knees, harlot,” Father Jimin commands, pulling you off the table by your hair and taking a seat on your chair, spreading his legs. “I think you need a taste of the Holy Staff to cleanse that impure mouth of yours.” He parts his robes to reveal his dress pants, unzipping and revealing his cock, red and throbbing with precum already leaking out of it. “Time for Holy Communion, my sweet child. Open up wide and receive the gift of Christ.”

You feel the saltiness of his cock against your tongue as he slides in deep, spearing your throat open as he thrusts into your face. Jimin’s balls brush against your chin as you swallow him deep, tears springing to your eyes as he controls your movements with his hand buried in your hair. You are choking and gasping around his cock noisily, and Jimin just eats up every single sound as he continues to ravish your mouth mercilessly.

From his viewpoint, seeing you on your knees has Jimin confident enough that he can muster up two loads for this scene. He just wants to watch your mouth fill with his cum, watch you swallow every drop of his salty essence, and show him your empty mouth after that.

“Suck me, yes, good, just like that, harlot,” Jimin demands as he pushes you down on his cock. “Suck your Father and feel my cum fill your mouth. Swallow down my blessing, so that you may strive for the salvation and absolution that you so seek.”

He can feel you twitch in surprise at the sudden demand for you to swallow his cum, but you sink down on his cock readily, looking up at him with wide and innocent eyes that nearly makes him blow his load right then and there. He looks off to the side to the director to gain his approval before Jimin starts to thrust again, feeling his balls tighten. With a strangled groan, Jimin feels his cock swell in your perfect mouth between those red lips, and he unleashes a torrent of bitter, salty cum into your mouth, swearing as you suckle on his cock like an infant, coaxing every drop from him.

“Swallow every drop,” Jimin pulls away from your mouth, his spent length twitching. You flash him a naughty little smirk as you clean a drop of cum from your mouth salaciously, opening your mouth to show him the reservoir of cum inside before your throat swallows, and you show him your empty mouth.

“Enough, harlot,” he declares as he pulls you up. Jimin watches as you pant desperately for air, tear stained cheeks and precum staining your chin. “You have dabbled in impure and unholy thoughts, my child. Sins of the flesh must be purified, for your body is a gift from God and not a receptacle for lust. Your body must be kept pure and untouched except for the man God intends you to marry and have babies with.”

Jimin leans back, thighs spread as his eyes linger over your thighs. “Sweet child, have you followed the rules of the Catholic Church? Are you on birth control, or any form of contraception that isn’t allowed by the Church?”

“N-no, Father,” you whimper. “My body is pure and untouched, as nature intended it to be.”

A pleased yet somehow also wicked smile crosses his face, but vanishes just a second later. “Good, my child. Be seated on your Father’s lap.”

“And cut!” The director yells, and Jimin lets go of you immediately, his spent length limp against his inner thigh. You turn around to watch a stylist clean him up carefully, an odd sensation in your throat when you see how unbothered Jimin is as he lets random strangers touch his soft cock.

Jimin is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, his thick, plush lips parted and looking like the devil himself as he gulps down some water that someone hands him, running his hand through his sweat soaked hair. Droplets of water travel down his neck as he drinks carelessly from the bottle, and you can feel your core pulse painfully. He catches you looking at him as an assistant sponges his soft cock, and he raises his eyebrows before glancing down at his crotch.

You step outside to have a few breaths of fresh air.

Jimin looks over at you as his stylist removes his circle glasses for a polish. “Doing okay? First half was intense.”

In your mind’s eye you have no doubt that you look wrecked beyond belief. Cheeks flushed with arousal, nipples hard and straining against your thin shirt- they didn’t give you a bra today- and you try and tamp down your embarrassment, replacing it with professionalism instead as you give him a taciturn nod. “Was alright.”

Someone hands you a bottle of water and you gulp gratefully. You can feel the wet stickiness between your thighs start to drip, and hope to whatever deity residing above you that Jimin can’t smell it.

“You were doing great,” Jimin says unexpectedly, getting up and tucking himself back into his pants just for modesty’s sake, especially as he moves closer to you. “Really got me so fucking turned on without even seeing you.” With his nose and lips dangerously close to your neck, you can feel your heart pounding against your ribs. “Now I know why you’re so good at what you do. The innocent yet naughty thing really works for you.” Jimin gives you his greasy little smile that doesn’t make you feel as disgusted as you thought you would be and is almost… endearing?

And as a scriptwriter he knew perfectly well what kind of role would suit you. You didn’t see it before, but you’re able to show off your innocent charm in the best ways possible with this script, and Jimin as an actor complements you perfectly as well.

As much as you try to deny it- you have to admit that this man turns you on. Park Jimin has this intriguing charisma with his offscreen personality that draws you in. Although it’s a whiplash from his cold, domineering onscreen persona, you can’t say that his dominance isn’t equally arousing either- it’s all just so confusing. You never thought you’d enjoy letting the most hated man in your life dominate you, but here you are, getting wet after a few insults from him.

“Can I kiss you?” He says suddenly, and you realise he’s been staring at your lips for a while.

The question shocks you to your core, and you take a step back involuntarily but Jimin follows your body with his, his hand coming around your back, but not touching your skin. Around you, various crew are still running around changing the lighting and modifying the set and doing who knows what, so no one is paying any attention to the two of you. Jimin still holds your hand in his as he stands with his body mere inches away from yours. “Just once. Please.”

You realise you’ve never kissed any of your co-stars before, much less outside of a scene. Jimin looks at you so earnestly that you almost can’t recognise him as the man who so cruelly put you down all those years ago, nor can you reconcile it with your perception of him as a selfish, cold bastard. Your head dips ever so slightly, and Jimin grins as he leans in.

His lips are soft and pleasant against yours, a very relaxed kiss with him leading and his hand soft against your back. It seems to be over far too quickly though, for he pulls back with a genuine smile on his lips.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since I saw you that day in the locker room,” he admits as he glances away, rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that you recognise as embarrassment.

The great Park Jimin, embarrassed? You must be seeing things. He grins at your expression and boldly takes your hand in his, pulling you to feel his crotch where his cock is hard, again. In a mere span of minutes, just from kissing you alone.

Your cheeks heat up, whether in embarrassment, arousal, or flattery, you have no idea. But Park Jimin doesn’t seem the least bit ashamed as he palms his cock with your hand over it, licking his sinful, thick lips as he admires the curve of your neck, the soft flesh that he wants to mark with his teeth.

“It… it wasn’t a bad kiss,” you begrudgingly allow him to grin at your half-hearted compliment. “Not the best, though.”

You feel Jimin chuckle briefly against your neck, his breath skimming your heated skin. “Playing hard to get. I love it. You’re better than Viagra for me, sweetheart.”

Before you can react to the tender nickname, the director calls for everyone to take their places, and you step away from him with your heart pounding, back into your side of the confession booth. Standing in front of the chair as per where you left off last time, you feel more than see Jimin follow you into your side now. His thighs brush against your ass as he sits down, getting his once again hard cock out of his pants before he places his hands on your waist. With your back to him it’s easier to calm your racing heart even as you prepare yourself for the next scene.

“It’s gonna get a little rough from here on, you know that right?” Jimin’s voice is a low murmur as you feel his hands on your waist soothingly. “Just remember you can tap out anytime. You have all the power.”

“Okay.” You turn your cheek to the side to get a glimpse of him smiling back at you. Once the director starts rolling, however, it disappears entirely into a cold mask again, and porn star actor Park Jimin is back.

You turn and step backwards, feeling his hands on your waist guiding you as you start to sit down. His cock brushes against your ass, and you whimper in fear as the script calls, struggling to stand up again.

“Shhhh, my child, do not be afraid, for your Father is here,” Jimin whispers, pulling you firmly down and spreading your thighs for the camera. His sticky cockhead brushes against your inner thighs, and you fight against his strength as Jimin seeks to impale your tiny virgin hole with his cock. “My beautiful child, cursed and sinful harlot, are you ready to receive your anointing? Are you ready for the Holy Spirit to enter your impure body and cleanse you from the inside out?”

Your pussy is still wet and dripping despite the cut, and you can almost feel Jimin smirk as he takes in the implications of this.

“Yes, Father Jimin please… please enter me,” your legs are trembling as Jimin slowly lowers you onto his cock, and the head of him breaches your entrance.

“Lower yourself fully, my child, and accept your position at the Lord’s feet where you belong,” Father Jimin pulls you to sit fully upon him, cock now buried deep in your supposedly virgin pussy as you cry out. He bends to gather your thighs in his grip, fully opening your legs and exposing your stuffed cunt to the camera, bidding you to rest your full weight upon him. “Recite your rosary, sweet child, and rejoice in your blessing.”

And then he begins to fuck up into your cunt with measured strokes, reciting a prayer under his breath as he does so. His hands grip your thighs apart and his thrusts are harsh, punishing against you as his cock bottoms out all the way to your womb.

“Fuck, this sweet pussy, meant to be used for your Father’s pleasure, meant to worship your Father’s cock with reverence,” Father Jimin pants as he watches his cock disappear into your pussy. “You won’t let any other boy touch it, will you my sweet? Only Father Jimin.”

“O-only Father Jimin,” you repeat after him as he fondles your clit with his expert fingers that makes you wail and thrash on top of him, the camera zooming in to capture your expression as your orgasm around him, switching to your pussy to focus on how it grips him like perfect velvet.

His thrusts are speeding up and getting sloppy now- you recognise the cadence of it as he races for his climax.

“Are you ready to receive your blessing, harlot?” Father Jimin growls as he tightens a hand around your throat, cutting off your air supply. “F-fuck, forgive me, God!” He groans loudly as his hips thrust a few more times and he is spilling into your depths, filling you up with his second load of the day, covering your cervix with his thick, warm anointment and blessing.

You can do nothing but writhe on his cock as your walls clench around him, feeling your womb swell with his gifts. He is still twitching and spurting inside you; it feels strangely intimate for him to hold you as he comes down from his high. Whether it’s because Park Jimin is the first man to ever cum inside you bare like this, or if it’s because of something else, you’ll never know. The camera focuses on his rapidly softening cock as it slips from your pussy, cream immediately leaking from your centre and dripping down your ass and inner thighs.

Jimin’s fingers skim down your body to play with the remnants of his offering left at your altar, and his other hand is over your lower belly suggestively. His fingers slide over your dripping slit, gathering up some of his cum mixed with your arousal as he brings it up to your clit, rubbing and pinching as you continue to leak his cum all over his softening cock that is resting against your inner thigh.

With a cry, you cum again, swollen cunt clenching around nothing and oozing more of his cum out. Jimin soothes you with a few kisses to your neck that feels oddly intimate, and are definitely not in the script as you come down from your high.

His lips are poised close to your ear as he delivers the final lines of the scene. “My sweet child, I have a feeling you’ll be back here with another confession in 9 months. May your time away from me bear fruit.”

“CUT! Brilliant, amazing, I was blown away!” The director claps his hands as you sag against Jimin, thighs slipping off his frame. “Someone help them clean up, and it’s a wrap! Thank you!”

Jimin situates you more firmly on his lap so that you won’t fall off, carefully helping you stand up as his cum leaks from your centre. An assistant hands you a wet tissue and you take a few steps away from Jimin so you can clean yourself up, but he follows you, snatching the wet tissue from you and cleaning your inner thighs himself.

“Jimin, stop, I can do it myself,” you start to protest, but it seems like nothing can stand in the way of Jimin’s obsession with his cum on you. He purposely catches a glob of it on his finger and brings it to his mouth, making eye contact with you as he licks his finger sinfully.

“Any chance of doing a sequel with that?” Jimin grins perversely, pushing himself to stand as he hands the used wipe to an assistant. “The title can be, ‘Blessed with my Father’s Baby’. What do you think?”

“I’m not doing a pregnancy porn shoot with you, Park,” you roll your eyes and put on the robe your manager hands you. “If that’s the last script, consider me out. I’m breaking the contract.”

Even as you walk out with Jimin’s amused gaze still on your back, a thought occurs to you that this shoot wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. There was no signs of the panic attacks, traumatic memories and actual, real humiliation even though you spent most of the scene grovelling at Park Jimin’s feet, sucking his cock and being used thoroughly by him. In fact, as you walk away from the man himself, you start to realise that maybe he is right about this whole domination business—you had the upper hand all along.

The last scene is so unlike the previous two that you have to pause and make sure that the sender of the email is Park Jimin. After you confirmed it three times, you click back to the pdf file and read it through again, just to make sure you’re not seeing things.

A newly-wed couple on their wedding night, consummating their marriage for the first time.

You swallow hard, noting that there isn’t any of the dominance and humiliation that Jimin usually has in his scripts. Instead, it seems to require intimacy and chemistry between the two actors, seeing as there are barely any lines for you to memorise. All he’s given you is a brief premise and description of positions from start to finish, and at the end he put a director’s note that all of this is to be very loosely followed.

The premise of the script remains in your mind even as you go through your workouts at the gym. Sweat drips down your face as you increase the speed on the treadmill, wishing that life was as easy as just running away from all your problems like this.

Can you even act that well? Jimin seems to have too much faith in your acting skills, though you know that he probably has no problem mustering up the appropriate emotions for this scene. But you on the other hand… your feelings towards Jimin have been getting more and more confusing. If this goes on any longer, it’ll be hard for you to draw a firm line between the two of you, much less keep on convincing yourself that he is the selfish, proud and egotistical bastard you always thought he was.

Why does he have to write such a corny and awful script? This will really put your acting skills to the test. You swear at him under your breath as you punch the stop button on the treadmill, grabbing your towel and stepping off. Taking a swig of your water, you continue to curse his obnoxiously handsome face as you walk to the locker room—

“Did you just say my name?” A familiar voice startles you and you nearly drop your phone as you turn around.

Jimin has his silver hair slightly matted and damp, sticking to his forehead. He’s obviously here for a workout, dressed in a thin white shirt that is see through with his sweat, and some workout shorts that show off the thickness of his thighs. You’ve never seen him in anything but a suit or perfectly pressed dress pants, and you can’t help but let your eyes wander over how built his physique is. Slim, yet wiry, he is the epitome of sleek, elegant power as he pushes his sweaty hair off his forehead, giving you a glimpse of his firm biceps as he does so.

“Wh-when did you start coming to this gym?” You avert your gaze by taking a gulp of water.

“Since I heard you went here,” he grins shamelessly, stopping at the water cooler for a refill.

This is the first time you’ve interacted with him outside of a porn shoot, and even though you’ve practically seen his dick, had it inside you, done all sorts of sordid things with him— you feel awkward around him, especially when you think about the shoot you’ll have to do with him soon.

“I’ll um… see you tomorrow then. Ha-have a good workout,” you mumble under your breath, making a wide berth around him to head for the lockers and showers. The stutter in your voice makes you cringe.

“Hey— you didn’t get back to me about the script. Is it okay?” Jimin turns off the tap at the water cooler and follows you for a few steps.

You turn back to him and study his face carefully. He doesn’t seem to be teasing you or making fun of you, in fact he is completely serious. Should you be honest and tell him what you’re really worried about, or should you beat around the bush?

“… it’s a different script. Different from what you usually do,” you finally say.

Jimin shrugs, unperturbed. “Different, yes. But different is good, and I wanted to try something new since… since it’s with you. I thought since our last two shoots were more of my style, we could incorporate yours for the final one. So that there’s some kind of balance. Is there a problem? Or did you change your mind about that pregnancy shoot?”

His little teasing voice makes your cheeks heat up involuntarily. You are irritated with yourself, at how you always seem to be at a loss for words around him, at how he always affects you just so.

“It’s just… it’s very brief. I’m not sure I know how you want it to go.” You fret with your hands a little, avoiding eye contact with Jimin. “If there were more lines, more stage directions, more things like that. I’d feel more confident about doing it with you.”

“Ah, it’s about that,” Jimin makes a humming noise in his throat as he considers your words. “I purposely didn’t include many scripted lines because I thought it wouldn’t fit with how I envisioned this entire scene to go. In my mind I saw two lovers, passionate yet innocent, celebrating their love for the first time. Lines would make everything kind of awkward and artificial, don’t you think? We should let it flow naturally. Get into the mood and character with each other.”

While Jimin is speaking, you can sense that he really does have a passion for acting, and not just the scripted trash that porn actors usually dole out. You’ve witnessed his genuine talent when it comes to immersing himself in a scene, admired him for how he seems to have two sides to his personality, and how he can switch between his on and off screen persona so fluidly.

“I definitely won’t have a problem getting into character. I could help you if you need me to… but somehow I feel like you don’t.” His voice is a low baritone against the shell of your ear, and his words are suggestive. Jimin smiles confidently as he steps closer to you. “At least, I hope by now you don’t think I’m still that stuck up jerk.”

Jimin’s eyes are fixated on your forehead, and he’s so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. He reaches up to wipe a drop of sweat from your forehead, and then his thumb brushes against your cheek. “If you need more stage directions… then let me just say I think we’ll be doing a lot of kissing. A lot.”

He lets his hand drop as he meets your eyes again, waiting for your response as a he grins at you. Jimin drops his eyes to your lips as his tongue dips out to caress his own plush ones. You think back to the last time he kissed you in between scenes, and you can feel your traitorous heart skip a beat in your chest. It flusters you so much that you can only step away from him and throw a hasty goodbye over your shoulder as you flee.

“Last shoot of the contract!” Wendy sings as she brings you your iced coffee. “Are you relieved?”

The useless script sits in front of you as you take a sip from your drink absently. “Why would I be relieved?”

“You get paid after this, and they’ll be releasing the first film shortly after. And I thought you hated Park Jimin, so isn’t it a relief that you won’t have to work with him anymore?”

You consider her words carefully as a few stylists adjust your outfit, hair and makeup. Today you are wearing all white, a lace bralette that skims your waist and accentuates your breasts, along with a pair of matching panties and a garter set. Over it all you have a sheer lace cardigan that drapes over your shoulders. “I don’t exactly… hate him, I guess. He isn’t as bad as I thought he was.”

You set aside the script and take a few sips of your drink before handing it to Wendy, nerves fluttering in your stomach as you follow the assistant director’s cue to get ready on set. As usual, Jimin is already on set and mixing with the crew, but when he sees you, he comes over straightaway.

His eyes are taking you in from head to toe, and for once it’s his turn to be speechless. This is exactly what he fell for the moment Sejin hyung showed him your picture, an angel draped in white. For a moment Jimin actually lets himself believe that all of this is real, that you and him are actually newly-weds waiting to consummate your marriage... all for the sake of helping him get into character, of course. Not for anything else.

“You look beautiful,” he says honestly, nervously putting his hands in his pockets to keep him from running them through his hair and ruining his stylist’s hard work. “I’m a lucky man.”

Jimin is talking as if all of this is real, and it sets you on edge. This is dangerous. You should never have agreed to doing this script in the first place. Out of all the shoots you’ve done with him, you feel as if this is the most nerve wracking and outside your comfort zone you’ve ever been.

It’s all for the shoot, you remind yourself, forcing yourself to put aside your feelings and remain professional. All for the shoot, and nothing else. Since Jimin has a distinction between his on screen and off screen persona, you should have one too.

“Everyone on set, and initial positions please!” The director calls, and Jimin takes your hand in his, leading you to the door frame of the bedroom set they have today.

He pulls you in closer to him, arms around your waist so that your body is touching his intimately. Abruptly his legs give out and you fall into his lap, his arms around your waist and chest to chest with Park Jimin as he grins insufferably.

You make a sound of protest even as you try to get off his lap- this position is far too intimate, you can feel the heat of his thighs against your core- but Jimin halts your movements with a pout. He nestles you comfortably straddling his hips, eyes glittering as he grins at you.

“Jimin, filming hasn’t started yet-”

“I know, I know, get into the mood with me? C’mon, I promise it’ll help. We’re supposed to be married, you know.” He plays with a strand of your hair in his fingers, tucking it behind your ear.

Reluctantly, you start to relax in his lap as you wait for the crew to get ready. Being on his lap like this isn’t all that bad. It isn’t awkward like you thought it would be. Jimin is holding your waist and humming in his throat as he leans in to smell your hair, his lips ghosting against the shell of your ear. Each and every one of his actions is so natural and thoughtless that if you let yourself go for one moment- you could almost believe this is real and not reel.

The thin layers of your lingerie do nothing to obscure how warm and firm he feels, and you can see Jimin admiring every inch of your body with unabashed hunger in his eyes, and another emotion that you can’t quite identify. Being this close to him has your heart rate and temperature sky rocketing, and you can feel him rapidly growing hard against your stomach. Jimin’s eyes are soft as he leans in to kiss you even before the director says anything else.

Surprisingly, the kiss settles your nerves rather than worsens them, and you feel yourself relaxing into his touch, closing your eyes and forgetting about everyone else other than the man kissing you right now. Jimin is soft and gentle with his touches, even more tender with his kisses today, and your head lolls to the side to give him more access when he starts to kiss down your neck, sucking along your collarbone and pushing your lace cardigan off your shoulder.

Belatedly you realise that filming must have already started— but then why didn’t you hear the director’s voice…? Jimin brings your attention back to him with his wet tongue on your chest, licking and suckling bruises into your skin.

“Can’t fucking believe you’re all mine,” he moans into your skin, sinking his teeth into the lace and pulling it away from your breast, only to let it snap back into place. “After all these years of running from me, finally, you’re here.”

A jolt runs through your frame as you take in his words; they sound way too specific to your situation. To hide your shock, you moan his name and play with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Jimin, I—“

“I love you, so much,” Jimin interrupts you as he starts to undo your bra, his eyes bright and lips swollen. To you he looks exactly the same as five minutes ago, you really can’t tell if he’s acting or not. He didn’t But he must be acting— this is a scene, and there’s no way he’s actually in love with you… right?

“I love you too,” you whisper back as your breasts are bared to the camera and to Jimin’s reverent gaze. He takes them in his hands, one nipple in his mouth as he sucks on it, occasionally flicking it with his tongue.

“On the bed, baby. Let me love you like you deserve tonight.” Jimin helps you to lie down on the white canopy bed, and the camera shifts to take in an overhead shot of you on your back as Jimin positions himself between your legs.

From anyone else those lines would have sounded cheesy. Heck, if you knew they were scripted, you would have been struggling not to cringe right then and there. But somehow, knowing that Park Jimin is just throwing himself fully into his character, that he’s fully present with you in this scene makes it hyper realistic, such that if not for the cameras around you, you’d have trouble differentiating between real and reel.

Jimin starts from your bare breasts, kissing his way down your stomach till he reaches the tops of your thighs. This is a Jimin you’ve never seen before. He is soft, loving and looks as if he is content to spend the rest of his life between your thighs worshipping you.

“Wet already? And I haven’t even done much yet,” he smirks as he notices the wet spot on your panties, rubbing his thumb into it so that you can feel your own stickiness on your skin. The camera zooms in to capture the evidence of your arousal, and Jimin slowly starts to peel your panties off, his other hand on your inner thigh, spreading your legs for him as he sucks another bruise into your skin. “Gonna mark you and make you nice and pretty for me, hmmm?”

He spreads you with his thick fingers, examining your most intimate places with a reverent gaze that makes your cheeks heat up. Jimin glances at your reaction with a tiny little chuckle at how cute you are, then he teases you with little licks at your clit that have you mewling and whining under his touch.

“You just need your pussy to be eaten out real good, right baby? No one eats this pussy better than me. Tell me.” Jimin pauses with his lips shining from your arousal.

Being far too used to the dominant side of him, seeing needy little Jimin who aches for your praise nearly makes you cum all over his tongue right away.

“J-Jimin, you’re the only man who can eat me so good,” you weave your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer as you beg for his tongue once more. “Please baby, I- I want to cum. Want your cock now.”

“Begging already?” He grins as he buries his face into your pussy, lewd little sucking sounds emanating as he tastes you from the inside out, tongue delving deep into your folds and spreading you apart for him. “My greedy girl. You’re so sweet, look at this pussy. Dripping so much, and it’s all for me. Can you cum like this for me first?”

Your hips are starting to arch off the bed with every lick and suck he gives you. Park Jimin truly is number one at pussy eating, and to have him praising you like this, calling you his while in between your thighs elicits a flutter in your stomach, a racing of your heart that you can’t seem to control. Jimin allows your hips to move freely, grinding into his face as you ride his tongue to your orgasm, thighs trembling and his name spilling from your lips as he licks every inch of your pussy.

“Jimin.” You whine needily and stretch out your arms for him, and Jimin chuckles as he crawls up the bed to meet your lips with his. You can taste yourself on his lips, but it doesn’t throw you off in the least as your tongues clash and moans spill from the both of you.

“Tell me I did well. Tell me how good I made you feel,” Jimin whispers against your neck.

Your legs come up to circle his waist, cradling him intimately into your centre, and you can feel his hard cock rub against you. “So, so good, you made me feel so good baby,” your chest heaves as your arch your body into his. “The only man who can make me feel like that.”

Jimin shifts back onto his knees to admire how fucked out you already look, hair spilling over the pillow and cheeks all flushed, lips swollen from his kisses. He places his hands behind your knees, pushing your thighs back to your chest to further expose your swollen pussy lips and your dripping center to him.

“Fuck, you look so fucking pretty like this,” Jimin caresses the lace garter on your thighs. “All spread out and dripping for me. Say what you want and I’ll give it to you, princess.”

His thumb caresses your clit lightly, and your thighs twitch, a whine spilling from your lips. “Your cock. I want your cock. Fuck me, please.”

“Such a sweet but dirty little mouth,” Jimin grins, satisfied as he reaches down to kiss you again, one hand on his cock and brushing his head against your lips. You can feel his sticky precum spread all over you as he thrusts forward with his fluid hips.

The first stretch of his cock makes you arch your back, and Jimin presses your thighs to your chest further, feeling you tighten around him. He continues to work his cock into your soaked depths, praising you for how tight and good you feel around him as he finally bottoms out. His lips are brushing against your collarbone as his cock grinds against your cervix, but the pain is a welcome one.

You brush a few strands of sweat soaked hair out of his eyes, watching his expression as he closes his eyes and withdraws from your clenching pussy. Today Jimin seems to be closer to the edge than usual even though you didn’t even suck him off, and he seems to be trying his best not to blow his load right now as he delivers hard thrusts into your pussy. He flashes you a shy little grin that makes your stomach flip as your eyes meet, and as you purse your lips to give him a tiny little kiss at the corner of his mouth, that’s when you realise it— you are actually in love with Park Jimin.

Somehow, somewhere along the lines, you stopped acting. Maybe it was never an act all along. But what about Jimin?

“So tight, so pretty, so wet for me,” Jimin grunts into your neck as his hips speed up, cock battering your pussy as you feel yourself dripping all around him, wetness coating his balls and his base. “I can’t wait to start a family with you. Like this. Just the two of us.”

The talk of starting a family once again reminds you that this is a shoot where you’re supposed to be newlyweds.

“Give it to me,” you stroke his cheek with your thumb, smiling up at him gently as he presses your thighs to your chest, grunting with the effort of fucking into you with his cock. “Want your baby.”

As you lock eyes with him, you realise that Jimin isn’t acting either. Unlike the previous shoots where the transition from his offscreen to onscreen persona was painfully obvious, this time Jimin’s face isn’t the cold mask he puts on during shoots. Park Jimin wears all his emotions on his face— and all this while you thought he was a heartless, cold bastard.

Then, it becomes painfully clear to you why he didn’t write any lines for the two of you, simply because they aren’t needed. This intimate gaze between the two of you says it all, and it conveys more than what a few lines ever could. You raise your head to meet his lips again, and the feeling of his cock thrusting in and out of your pussy slowly, his lips against yours and his tongue licking your bottom lip tenderly makes you feel as if you are really lovers.

“I can’t hold it much longer,” Jimin admits, pushing himself onto his knees and letting your legs stretch out to rest on his shoulders. From this here he can see every inch of your beautiful body, breasts bouncing with every thrust of his, and the way your pussy takes his cock so well.

“Cum for me?” You reach down to brush your fingers across his firm abdomen, walls starting to clench around his cock as Jimin circles his thumb around your clit. “Please?”

At the sound of your sweet begging, Jimin decides to throw all caution to the wind and chase his orgasm just how he’s dying to— pounding into your wet cunt with his cock and feeling you clench around him; your little whines and moans egging him on. A few more thrusts inside your warmth and he buries himself as deep as he can go, throwing his head back and exposing his pretty throat as he cums inside you.

The warmth of his cum seeps into your pussy as he fills you up to the brim, even more than he’s ever cum before. Even after he’s done spurting into your depths, Jimin continues to thrust lazily, fucking his cum deeper into you and chasing your lips with his. When his cock has softened too much for him to keep going, he pulls out and positions himself in between your thighs.

“You didn’t cum yet did you baby?”

“N-no, not yet, oh! Jimin, what are you—“ Even though this isn’t the first Jimin eats his cum from your used pussy, it never fails to bring a blush onto your cheeks, watching him slurp and kiss your lower lips messily with his semen all over his chin.

But he licks it all up like it’s the rarest delicacy in the entire world.

You’re so absorbed by his endearing little grin as he licks his plush lips that you almost don’t hear the director call cut.

“Park, _____, this may be your best work yet!” He is starstruck, eyes shining with admiration as he clasps his hands to his chest. “I could really feel all the emotion, for a moment I really believed that you were lovers! Well done, both of you. It’d be my pleasure to work with you again!”

You call out a thanks to the director as you start to get up from the bed, closing your thighs. But Jimin has his arms around your waist and stops you from getting up, pulling you closer into his side. Now, you feel as if it’s time to address the elephant in the room. There was a definite chemistry sparking in between the two of you just now, you’d be a fool to deny it.

“Jimin…”

“Shhh, just a while more. I’m tired.” Jimin whines, pressing a kiss to your lips to quiet you, and his casual yet intimate gesture despite the cameras being off only makes you melt even more. There is a comfortable silence between you for a moment.

“You weren’t acting just now, were you?” You reach out to pinch his cheek, and he grins shamelessly. “You wrote this last scene on purpose. Trying something new my ass.”

“Am I that obvious?” Jimin’s eyes light up with mischief. “But it wasn’t to annoy you this time. I just knew you’d fall in love with me once I made love to you.”

You place a hand on his chest and push him away slightly. “Excuse me? In love? Getting cocky now aren’t we, Mr Park?”

Jimin doesn’t deny it as he buries his face into your neck, giggling. “Stop or I’ll get hard again.”

“You get hard by hearing me call you Mr Park?”

“Can we role-play Fifty Shades next?” Jimin asks. “I think I have a kink for Mr Park. I always wanted to be a rich CEO. Can I gag you with my tie?”

“You kinky bastard,” you mutter under your breath even as a smile tugs at your lips. “But wait. Our contract is over.”

Jimin hums in thought as he kisses your shoulder. “I thought we could enter a different contract this time.”

“Different? Like how?”

“A more personal one, with no scripts involved. Still exclusive, though,” Jimin is grinning, the sneaky little punk.

“Oh really? What exactly does this contract entail?”

Jimin pretends to think for a while before he answers. “Roleplaying Fifty Shades with me, for one. I was thinking we could do a professor student one too. Oh and also, a nursemaid one. And last but not least... go on a date with me.”

He’s so sneaky that it makes you laugh. “Signed, sealed and delivered. But just so you know, I’m fucking your ass this time.”

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