#this is.............

a/n; in no way is this story meant to depict the real life working conditions of adult film stars. contains inaccuracies ! + i couldn’t have written The smut scene w/o my #1 perv ilu

(!!) pls re-read the warnings !! may contain triggering content. roleplay includes portrayal of a not so ethical or appropriate relationship (teacher/student) and the verbal humiliation makes use of degrading names/slut shaming, so please don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable !! 

(!!) if your name is mj stay away from this fic !! also if ur jordan’s sister stop reading smut khkjh

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In front of you, a manila folder was slammed down onto the table's wooden surface, the sudden movement making your cup of coffee wobble dangerously. You cupped the drink between your cold hands, intent on not letting a drop of your 5.79 dollar purchase go to waste. Only once the liquid had stopped sloshing around did you bother to greet your agent with a cordial nod.

Dressed in an all black, pressed suit and with his hair combed back, he seemed ready to head off into a business meeting, not discuss your next adult film project over a cup of coffee. Choosing to skip over the small talk, he leaned forward on his elbows and waited for you to take the folder and peer into its contents.

You spared it a cursory glance, not expecting much from its uninteresting appearance. Still, you decided to humor him—after all, Seokjin wouldn’t have called you out to meet in person if it wasn’t urgent. Unless legal paperwork was involved, your usual means of communication with the self-proclaimed Important Man was limited to phone calls and e-mails.

“Your first big movie,” was what he said in lieu of greeting, a proud smile pulling at his lips. You relaxed somewhat. He looked visibly pleased with himself which could only mean good news for you. “Now, no need to thank me...but I did pull a few strings to land you this job.”

“Uh-oh.” You stared hard at him, trying to detect the underlying message behind his words. Knowing him, ‘pulling a few strings’ could mean anything from calling in a favor to giving the director a blowjob in the back of his car between shoots. He was that kind of agent.

Seokjin shrugged, choosing not to put your worries to rest. “I know the casting director well—we were in the same frat. We catch up from time to time and when he mentioned he was looking for a fresh face, I immediately recommended you. They reviewed your portfolio and really liked those test shots we took of you two weeks ago.”

Your mind drifted back to the two hour long photoshoot that had taken place in Seokjin’s friend’s villa. Judging by the way the place was decked out to look like a pimp crib, you were half convinced that it was owned by a seedy nightclub owner or something of the sort. You were probably not too far off from the truth but all talks of shady property owners aside, the house served as a spacious and luxurious backdrop for your swimwear shoot. The concept of the day was ‘slutty trophy wife’. No added photo filters or retouching had been needed to make your skin look perfectly slick and shiny; your body had been waxed smooth and slicked down with baby oil—your tiny bikini basically just an accessory.

At the time, you had grumbled and complained about the set-up, cursing the burnt-red color that had appeared on your skin after posing provocatively by the poolside in the blistering heat. Your skin had needed a week to recover from all of the consequent peeling and redness and you had been obliged to cancel some of your schedules. Some things just couldn’t be fixed with makeup... And no one would pay money to see a girl with a bright red, flaky nose giving head. But all of that trouble had been well worth it if the finished pictures had gotten you such a coveted job in the end.

He gestured to the file in your hands, “You’ll be working with Min Yoongi.”

“Eh? Min Yoongi?”

Certain you had misunderstood, there was no use concealing your incredulity. Min Yoongi’s name held so much power on its own—the mere mention of it was enough to have you straighten your back. Surely this had to be a joke of some kind, right? The entire thing was just so absurd; it felt too good to be true. Frankly speaking, Yoongi was way out of your league. You hadn’t even been in the industry for very long...yet someone deemed you fit enough to work with a big gun?

You eyed the corners of the quaint coffee shop with suspicion. You tried to spot any hidden cameras, fully expecting a crew from MTV to bust out from the shadows at any moment and unveil the prank.

Seokjin let out a sigh, disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm. “Don’t look so put off. This time, you—or rather I—struck gold. Min Yoongi’s indisputably one of the best in the industry. He’s extremely professional and experienced—and handsome to boot. You’ll be in the very best hands. He rarely works with newbies, so consider yourself special.”

“I’m not put off,” you were quick to defend. “I’m just... I’m having a hard time believing any of this is real right now. Can you blame me?”

“Well believe it. Why do you look so surprised? There’s a reason people would open their wallets to see you on film. You’re very photogenic, you look great on film. Lots of people have hot bodies and pretty faces, but not many give off the same energy as you.”  

You watched him plop in a third cube of sugar into his black coffee, not thinking much of his compliments. The thing about Seokjin was that he knew exactly what to say—the well-timed flattery basically second nature to him. At first, you couldn’t help but be charmed, however you soon came to realize that you were just one of the many people his sweet-talk had an effect on. Seokjin had absolutely no qualms using the same lines and buttery tone with anyone he met, and after seeing the way he operated, everything about him seemed too rehearsed and contrived to be genuine.

Seokjin waited until all the sweetness had dissolved into his drink before continuing, “You know that we always advise against filming anal and DP scenes right away for a reason. It's hard to make a living off of porn because people naturally tend to lose interest once they’ve seen everything you have to offer. Over time, talents tend to lose their shine. Being in the industry changes you. Doesn’t matter if they’re the best actor out there, the dead fish eyes will always give them away... It’s like they’re not really present during the scene, you know what I mean? If the performer is bored, so is their audience. If the audience is bored, no one will be willing to hire them anymore.” 

“Well isn’t that lovely,” you intoned drily, silently contemplating your own fate. How long would it take before you eventually became that jaded? What a bleak future to look forward to.

“I’m just being honest,” he raised his shoulders, his ever-present smile dimming a little. “It’s better to be honest about this. I don’t have any time to be spewing any inspirational bullshit. And you shouldn’t listen to anyone who tries to feed you that crap, either. You should always know what you’re signing up for.”

You supposed there was some merit to his words. Even if he was heavy-handed with his praises, he had never painted you an idyllic picture of the adult film industry. Before signing the contract with your agency, they had made sure that you had known exactly what you were putting on the line, what you were risking. You had never ventured into this world with false hopes; they had made it quite clear that if you didn’t make it big within the first few years, it would be hard to find your footing in an industry that was constantly on the lookout for new talents. Considering how the average span of a porn star’s career was less than three years, you understood the pressure to cement your name before your time was up. Building a solid fanbase was crucial if you wanted to survive as a porn star.

With this thought weighing on your conscious, you regretted not showing more gratitude to your agent... Without him, you probably would still be filming low quality videos that you tried to pass off as artsy. Seokjin had been a huge help in launching your career. He was basically fetching you deals left and right that no rookie without connections could ever get. In the past, you had been eager to seize these chances before they slipped away.

This time, however, you couldn’t shake off the mix of feelings that churned in the pit of your stomach as your eyes skimmed over Min Yoongi’s long list of impressive credentials and accolades. On the one hand, you were excited about being granted this huge opportunity right off the bat because being partnered with a renowned porn star meant that you got to ride off his fame. It meant getting more exposure, which was something you certainly wouldn’t refuse. (Only a fool would turn this offer down!)

On paper, it wasn’t that all different from any of your previous jobs—show up, get your makeup done, take your clothes off, get fucked, maybe fake an orgasm or two. Yet, for some ridiculous reason, you couldn’t help but feel strangely inadequate for the job. Nervousness crept up your spine the longer you let your gaze sweep over his lengthy résumé. Shooting with someone with this kind of reputation also meant that if you fucked up, everyone else would know about it the next day. The industry was a lot smaller than it appeared to be from the outside. One mishap could have you spending the rest of your career trying to erase the label you had inadvertently earned on set.

It wasn’t that you lacked confidence in your skills. You gave a mean blowjob and your pussy was nice to look at. Because your body was your bread and butter, you dieted and worked out daily in order to ensure you stayed in the best shape.   Maybe it was vain of you to proclaim, but you looked good on camera, especially with your clothes off. And it wasn’t like you lacked any experience, either. You had filmed your fair share of pornography, so you knew you were able to keep the public interested, if the rising views during the weekly cam sessions were any indication of your popularity. But the stakes wouldn’t be the same this time and that was what scared you.

Perhaps Seokjin sensed your distress because he offered you an encouraging smile, his whitened teeth on display. “You’ll do great. If I didn’t think you would make it big, I wouldn’t waste my time on you. I always put my eggs in the right basket so I’m confident that this will go well. This isn’t going to be some seedy shoot filmed on a three hundred dollar budget. They’re pulling out all the stops for this one... The director is hoping this will win him another AVN award this year but we’ll see. Don’t mention it if you see him, by the way. He’s a bit sensitive and it’s best not to step on his toes too much.”

All you could do was nod, distracted by other, more worrying thoughts. Were you ready to actually go through with this? Would you be able to do a good job? What if you somehow messed up? You stopped yourself from continuing this line of thought. That would be counter-productive. It really wasn’t like you to doubt yourself this much but the minute your agent had dropped Min Yoongi’s name, you had been putting everything into question.

Seokjin held your gaze, his eyebrow raised expectantly as he waited for your inner ramblings to cease.

“Now, if you could just review the terms of the contract before signing and we’ll be all set.”

You stared at the dotted line, pen in hand. Seokjin hadn’t hired a fool. It didn’t take very long to finish signing all the legal paperwork.

Despite your initial fretting, you were excited to finally be part of something so big. The production cost for this movie was noticeably more significant than any of your past works put together. That meant better filming equipment, better filming locations, better actors. The more you thought about it, the more convinced you were that this would be your breakthrough role. This movie could potentially change your life and help you make a name for yourself.

It became all the more apparent that your key to success would be working with Min Yoongi.

Before this, you had only heard about him in passing—his name one you had overheard whispered by the gossiping hair and makeup staff, one that you saw plastered on the covers of glossy magazines and online news articles. You had seen printouts of his face on the front of a handful of film posters that lined up the walls of your agency’s building. He was someone you knew of, someone you knew about, but you had never experienced this burning curiosity to know about him before today.

With so much at stake, you decided to do your homework. You did your research, watching his interviews on YouTube and searching his name up on various web portals. Through the pieces of information you had gathered by watching his interviews, he seemed like a calm, collected man—completely different from the image you initially had of him. His cockiness wasn’t showcased through self-praises and obvious boasting; but rather by the way he coolly and confidently answered the blunt questions hurled at him from prejudiced interviewers. Never had he flinched or faltered; never had he let anyone intimidate him with twisted questions intended to cause controversy.

It was his cold, no-nonsense kind of behavior which led you to wonder: what sort of person was he like to work with? Without the firsthand experience, the only way you could find out was by personally purchasing a movie he starred in. Which you did—for research purposes only, of course. There was no shame in wondering what your partner looked like in action or how he worked once the camera started rolling, right?

Watching his movie meant that you were taking your job seriously, you reasoned  Seokjin had assured you over and over again that you would be in good hands, but what weight did his words have when he wasn’t the one getting spanked in front of a filming crew? You just wanted to know what sex with this man would be like. What was it exactly that you had to look forward to?

You set up your laptop and made sure everything was plugged in properly (the last thing you wanted was for your computer screen to black out during the good bits). Pillows propped behind you, you wriggled around beneath your fleece blanket until you found a comfortable position.

The movie you had picked out was supposed to be on the tamer side of his porn filmography. You had selected it in the hope that it would ease you into things. It was a typical let's-fuck-the-babysitter scenario so you didn't really expect much. Scenarios like these were predictable because they had been done so many times before. How much would you be willing to bet that it followed the cunnilingus+sex on the couch+blowjob formula? But with how popular he was, you didn’t really know what to expect anymore... What made him so different from the rest? A part of you was worried he had a monster dick or something equally impossible to recover from. Guys with huge dicks always made it difficult to keep up your filming schedule and a good fuck was never worth that setback.

Laptop nestled in your lap, you pressed play. The screen of your laptop lit up, signaling the start of the movie, and you held your breath as you finally got to see what all the fuss was about.

The first thing you were immediately struck by was how incredibly handsome he was. Even though his female partner was no less attractive, your eyes couldn’t help but stay glued on him. You could tell just by the way he carried himself and the way he spoke that he was very confident and self-assured. He never looked away from his partner, his lids heavy and eyes dark with the promise of more to come. You couldn't look away; his simple presence demanded you pay him attention.

The more you watched, the more you understood why people when wild for him; his charisma coupled with his experience had evidently made his career long-lasting and successful. Surprisingly, any line he delivered sounded convincing. He made a cheesy, over-the-top porn script sound hot. How the hell? You put the volume up, your earphones picking up the slightest noise—every rustle of the sheets, every sigh of pleasure from the girl, and every slick and obscene noise coming from her pussy as Yoongi thrust into her were loud enough for you to believe you were there as it happened.

You weren’t exactly sure when, but your eyes had fallen closed somewhere along the way. The audio in your ears helped fuel the lewd scenarios you conjured up in your mind; it wasn’t hard to imagine yourself in the place of his female counterpart, Yoongi working his hips against yours, his heavy breathing tickling your ears as you moaned out his name. Sliding your hand beneath the waistband of your panties, you were barely surprised to find yourself already damp with arousal. You carefully circled a finger around your entrance, coating the digit with your fluids until it was lubricated enough to slip in.

Quickly, you built up a steady rhythm. Your finger tried to mimic the pace he had set—each thrust inside your wet pussy a weak imitation of what his hardened length would feel like inside of you. One finger wasn't nearly enough to satisfy the growing need that pulsed between your legs. You eased in a second digit next to the first, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate the newest intrusion. Breathing out a sigh, you kicked your head back as you worked yourself to a frenzy, letting the loud sounds flowing through your earbuds lull you into a trance.

“Such a good pussy.” The wet, squelching noises almost drowned out his groan of appreciation. You mewled in response and spread your legs wider as if to urge him deeper, but it was no use. Your fingers couldn’t bring you the same satisfaction that his thick cock would. Squeezing in a third finger, you tried to imagine him working his hips against yours, his lean body sticky with sweat as he filled you up to the brim with every thrust. “Hear that? You take my cock so well, baby.”

"So fucking—tight." He growled out, the primal sound loud in your ears. Lust coursed through your veins and you could feel it burn, melting away any of your inhibitions. Sucked deep in your fantasy, you could vividly picture his pink lips curling into a smirk as he watched you slowly start to unravel before him.

Tears stung your eyes. You arched your back, hips rutting against your hand, as you tried to alleviate the burning ache within you. Your fingers twisted around, rubbing your walls, searching for that sensitive spot inside of you. But your efforts were futile—from the angle you were sitting in, your fingers couldn’t quite reach it, no matter how much you tried. Forehead shiny with perspiration, you keened in frustration, too wound up to continue. You wanted to cum so badly that it hurt. Desperately horny, you changed your course action, circling at your swollen clit instead with renewed determination.

The first slide against your nub was electrifying and your entire body shuddered, overcome with pleasure. The obscene sounds from the video blended in with your own soundtrack. Breathless and dizzy with want, you failed to register that the moans spilling from your mouth were echoes of Yoongi’s name. Your pleas for release grew louder as the fire inside your lower belly erupted into an inferno. 

"I can feel you around me, fuck, you gonna cum soon, baby? Yeah? Gonna cum all over my cock?" Yoongi whispered harshly into the crook of your ear, his heavy breathing sending shivers down your back. “Fucking cum.”

His name on your lips, you threw your head back as the band inside you snapped, your body his to command. Trembling all over from the force of your orgasm, you clenched your eyes closed as you tried to prolong your trance. If you imagined hard enough, you could feel his hot breath fan your skin, his fingers bruise your hips as he kept you still. 

Yoongi’s voice echoed inside of your head long after the aftershocks of your orgasm had waned, haunting and promising all at once.

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It took another useless glance at the clock to confirm that you were early. You were filming the second sex scene today. The first scene had been filmed already and you hadn’t run into any complications. Your male co-star’s dirty talk could have been better, but his handsome face and skilled tongue had made up for it. You could still remember the delicious stretch of his long fingers inside of you, and how his deep baritone voice growled in your ear as he fucked you pressed up against a window. Off camera, he had been nice and easy-going, cracking the occasional joke between takes.

With how great things had turned out yesterday, you were anticipating today’s scene almost as much as your character was. Today you were filming the scene with Min Yoongi—the grand finale, the climax of all climaxes. The Big Nut. Makeup and hair done, you had already filmed your intro video and were now killing time before the actual shoot began.

Better early than late, you tried to console yourself. Waiting around like this made you jittery; the amount of caffeine pumping through your veins filled you with a burst of energy you found hard to keep under control. It wasn’t even noon and your daily dose of coffee had already been exceeded. You bounced your leg up and down, the constant fidgeting giving away how nervous you really were.

You tried to distract yourself by reading over the film script, ignoring how your fingers trembled slightly like a chronic smoker who hadn’t gotten their fix.

The movie was scheduled to run for one hour or so, with two sex scenes filmed in two different locations with different actors. The scenario was your cliché go-to porn plot in which you would be playing the role of a naughty student who gets caught fucking someone after school hours by her teacher. Punishment ensues. You fuck your feelings out. The end.

Well, that was definitely something you could handle, you thought to yourself as you leafed through the script. Although there had been more lines to memorize than you were used to, you had confidently assured your agent that you would be able to do it. You were glad that your two years hanging out in the theater club back in high school wouldn’t be for nothing... It was a shame that you could only showcase your acting skills in a porn movie because you knew a lot of people would skip over the plot and jump straight to the filth. During the last few days, the mediocre porn dialogue had become your bible, your bedside book that you read religiously before going to sleep. You had read it over so often, you were confident that you could recite every line in your sleep.

A polite cough interrupted your pre-show pep talk.

You looked up, not expecting to meet Min Yoongi’s gaze. Blinking, you took in his features, not realizing that you were blatantly staring. Who could blame you, though? There was something so virile about Yoongi that had you doing a double take. He exuded masculinity with every step he took towards you. Something inside you clenched. 

“____?” He called your name, gaze flicking over your features in turn. He took a seat opposite of you and holding out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you smiled as sweetly as you could. His grip was strong and secure, his touch cold. 

“Hm.” He let out a noncommittal sound while he perused a file on his lap. You recognized the papers Seokjin had typed up beforehand, your name headlining one of them, but your attention was quickly diverted.

Your eyes were instantly drawn to his long and elegant looking fingers, the veins in his hands prominent whenever he flipped a page over absentmindedly. It was strange seeing them in person... Just the other night, you had been salivating over the thought of them inside you, thrusting and curling with expert precision and unwavering focus, every movement intended to coax a moan of pleasure from your lips. You had seen how lethal they could be through the screen of your laptop... Now you were going to be experiencing those skills firsthand. The thought sent a rush of excitement through your body.

“I’ve taken note of your hard limits.” His smooth baritone tone snapped you back to attention. “The scene doesn’t require we go that far anyway, but just in case you get too uncomfortable with anything, your safe word is ‘cobbler’, correct?”

“Yes.” You gave a short nod, your neck stiff as you tried not to break eye contact. 

“Have you read through my form?”

“I have, Mr. Min.”

A snort escaped him then, his lips curling into the kind of smile that bordered on a smirk. “No need to be so formal. You can call me by my name outside of a scene.”

“Yoongi, then.” Your hands felt clammy all of a sudden and you wiped your palms on your skirt, hoping that he wouldn’t notice your incessant fidgeting. The glint in his eyes indicated that you weren’t nearly as successful in masking your nervousness as you would have liked. You didn’t even know why you felt so antsy. This wasn’t your first time meeting an attractive porn star. Yesterday’s shoot with Taehyung had gone without a hitch. So why were you getting so worked up now? You weren’t eighteen and impressionable anymore.

His gaze swept over your body, interrupting your line of thought. You felt it brush over your delicate throat, your supple curves, your bare legs. The scrutiny made the surface of your skin heat up, your legs clench together. 

“Ah, I’m looking forward to working with you.” A ghost of a smirk crossed his features. For a moment, you believed it to be a product of your imagination, but he shot you a wink as he got up to his feet, the action suggestive enough to have you swallow thickly. 

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In retrospect, maybe it was a good thing you were nervous—it made your acting a lot more believable. You wrung your hands together, head bowed in a show of contrition.

"While Mr. Jung and I don't see eye to eye on a number of subjects, some of his methods of punishment have been very enlightening—albeit a tad primitive.” He regarded you with detached interest, his eyes sweeping over your figure. His impassive stare made you fidget in your seat, the scratchy material of your skirt rubbing against your thighs. “I could just let you off with a detention slip, but students like you need to be put back in their place."

Yoongi was so good at this, his tone convincing enough to have you believe in his words. For a moment, you let yourself pretend that all of this was real—that you had really acted up when you weren’t supposed to and that he was now going to punish you for your misbehavior. It was so easy to slip into your role when he appeared so serious and forbidding.

"Bend over."

He punctuated his command by tapping his ruler against his wooden desk, his tongue clucking in a show of impatience when you refused to move. You licked your dry lips, silently wishing you could have a glass of cool water to quench your sudden thirst.

"A-are you serious?" you croaked, finally remembering the lines you had memorized.

"I assure you, I am not the type to joke around."

With his arms crossed, he looked every bit like the imposing figure he was playing as. Gulping audibly, you slowly gathered to your feet. You kept your gaze trained on the polished floorboards, making sure to avoid his probing stare.

"I find that corporal punishment works wonders on troublesome students like yourself. Writing lines for an hour hardly has the same impact." Above you, his low chuckle could be heard. Goosebumps raised to attention as your eyes fluttered to a close.

“Skirt up. Let me see that ass.”

“S-sir.”

“You had no qualms flashing me your filthy cunt the other day. Up, now.”

You hurried to obey, his stern tone jolting you into action. Your fingers reached behind you, hiking the material of the skirt high enough so that your skin was exposed to the cool air. Behind you, Yoongi patted your cheek in mock praise before deftly fitting the hem of your skirt into the band of your waistline so as to keep the fabric in place.

Not expecting him to kick your feet wider apart, you barely managed to stifle your yelp of surprise. You attempted to anchor yourself by clutching the sides of the desk, your legs now stretched too widely apart to be considered decent behavior. The position you were in was humiliating, intended to make you feel vulnerable and exposed.

“Good.”

The single word had your pulse race. His praise felt like a physical caress, and you closed you eyes to let the feeling wash over you.

“Now tell me.” Yoongi’s voice was now deceptively smooth and you knew right away that he was toying with you. “How many misdemeanors was that in one night, hmm?”

You blinked, suddenly remembering that you were supposed to be portraying a misbehaving student. Cursing your lack of focus, your mouth opened as you tried to recall the script. When you took too long to answer, Yoongi went on with the scene, sidestepping your blunder.

“Too many,” he supplied with a sigh, sounding disappointed; whether it was with you for forgetting your lines or with your character, you weren’t sure. Either way, the remorseful look on your face wasn’t extremely hard to fake. You felt nervous again, wondering how well you would be able to perform today.

With an easy yank, your panties fell to the ground, leaving you even more indecently exposed than before. As Yoongi crouched down to peel them off of your body completely, any worries you might have had didn’t seem of much importance anymore. What mattered was the touch of his fingers on the backs of your thighs—cold against your burning skin.

"I wish you could see yourself right now." He mocked, voice laced with something akin to smugness. You felt his hot breath tickle the insides of your knee, the sensation almost enough to make them buckle. "Skirt up, legs spread wide open... So wet and ready for a nice cock between your thighs, isn’t that right?”

The bright lights from overhead spotlighted the acute shame and arousal that raged within you. Both coalesced into one intense emotion that reduced you to a big puddle of desire. You weren't sure if it was his husky tone or the shocking amount of filth that spewed from his lips, but you felt the coil in your stomach tighten with each word leaking into your ear. Your heart raced wildly in your chest, your hands hanging uselessly by your head. His words made you want to hide your face behind your arms, but you knew that wasn’t an option—not when a camera was intent on capturing every shift of your expression.

Your lack of response didn’t seem to deter him for he continued on, merciless with his interrogation.

“Is this turning you on? Do you like being reminded how desperate you are to be stuffed full?"

Every question left you short of breath—you felt each of them like physical thrusts that made the crux of your thighs ache with a need to be filled up. A heavy haze muddled your thoughts. All you could focus on was the throbbing in your core; all you could here was his voice crooning obscenities in the crook of your ear.

"I can see your tight hole clench.” Yoongi let out a disbelieving laugh, the derisive sound making your cheeks bloom pink with embarrassment.

The flush that adorned your cheeks only darkened further when you realized the camera probably had a perfect, unobstructed view of your sopping center. You could only imagine what the sight would look like on screen—your inner thighs glistening from your slick, your lower lips slightly swollen and flushed pink from your obvious arousal. With the way you were bent over the desk, presenting yourself willingly to his hungry stare, you had no doubts that you looked like an expensive dessert ready to be devoured.

"Y-Yoongi, please..." Eyes glassy, you felt yourself clench again as you imagined his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you bent over, wet and ready for him.

"Don't talk to me so informally," he scolded, pinching the inside of your thigh as punishment. A yelp escaped your parted lips—not because it was painful but because you felt a sting of pleasure zap straight to your bundle of nerves like an electric shock. “Address me properly.”

It was easy to give in if it meant you would get what you wanted. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Now, let’s start this again.” Holding your breath in anticipation for what was to come, you struggled to stay still in the position he wanted even though your knees ached. How long were you expected to stay like this? It probably hadn’t been very long, maybe five minutes at the most, but you could already feel the muscles in your thighs straining. “When I ask you a question, I expect a verbal response, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” Thankfully your voice was stable this time. He patted one of your exposed cheeks in praise, the little slap enough to have you wanting more.

Your legs were so spread out that you didn’t notice you were making a mess on the floor until Yoongi brought attention to the drops that spotted the wood, "I'm not even touching you and you're making a mess. What? Pretty boy Kim Taehyung fail to get you off?"

"Maybe he would have if you hadn't interrupted," you bit out, true to the script. Frustration seeped into your every word, but it was more directed at yourself for getting so aroused by his words and actions. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so affected; usually you had to play it up a lot more for the cameras but this time you barely registered the filming crew that stood a few feet away.

"I don't need to touch your dirty cunt for you to cum," he huffed. Although you couldn’t see his expression, you could picture his stare hardening and his lips thinning into a straight line. "You’re soiling my office right now and all it took was for you to offer your pussy to me. You’re proving to be quite the slut tonight. I think I’ll leave you like this, legs open, empty and aching for cock, as your punishment.”

"Wait—no, please!” The desperation in your voice was alarmingly real. You could feel your eyes well with tears of frustration because the prospect of being denied release was simply too cruel to fathom. You didn’t know how long you would be able to endure having nothing filling you up. In every one of your past films, the scene had always had minimal foreplay and little to no plot. Normally at the 5 minute mark, you would have already swallowed his dick down your throat... You weren’t used to having this drag on for so long. Never before had you felt this engaged while shooting a porn scene. 

"I don't want you to beg. I want you to apologize—no, to grovel."

Shameless, you whimpered, “I'm sorry. I'm so—please, I'm sorry.”

His hand crashed down on your burning skin with a resounding smack. The unexpected force behind the swat ripped a cry from your throat, the sound raw and primal. Your eyes watered as you panted, breath cut short when he brought his hand down on the opposite cheek.

"And what exactly are you sorry for, slut?"

The hands soothing over the sting contrasted with the unforgiving edge in his voice. You suddenly remembered what Seokjin had said, that you were in capable hands. You believed these words, trusting Yoongi to make the right decisions.

"I'm sorry for sneaking out past curfew."

"What else?"

"I'm sorry for... Sorry for behaving indecently with Taehyung."

"Not specific enough," he chided, his rebuke underscored by a harsh slapping noise. 

"I'm sorry! Please, ah, I'm sorry we were kissing. Sorry for letting him—nhh—touch me." With every new admission, he delivered a firm spank to your reddening cheeks. The blows weren’t hard enough to really hurt, but the repeated swats onto your sensitive skin would probably leave a blooming bruise. You couldn’t wait to see the visible reminder of your punishment, the red mark from his hand his personal brand of ownership.

"And where did he dare touch you?" Yoongi’s lips curled into a scowl, his voice low and dangerous.

"My breasts. B-but only over my vest," you were quick to add after sensing Yoongi's form tense over you. "And my—my thighs..." You were desperately trying to remember the lines of the script you had practiced so hard to memorize, but the exact wording kept escaping you with every firm swat of his hand against the globes of your ass.

Yoongi's deafening silence urged you to finish your confession. He rubbed circles over your stinging skin with the palms of his hands, squeezing the soft flesh between his fingers as he waited for you to resume talking. 

Taking a shuddering breath, you obliged him, "He—he filled my pussy up with his f-fingers..."

"Did he? And did you enjoy that? Did you like having his long fingers fuck your greedy hole?" He reached down and delved a hand between your legs as he spoke. With a skilled index finger, he ran it across your wet lips tentatively to gauge how ready you were for him. Pausing at your entrance, he swirled his finger around, coating it in your copious amount of arousal. Just one finger was not nearly close enough to the friction you craved. You bucked your hips in response, silently beckoning him for more, as if that would somehow convince him to put an end to the teasing. 

Immediately, he chastised you by smacking your sopping wet center. Arching your back, you felt all the air leave your lungs with a drawn out whimper. Echoes of pleasure vibrated throughout your body, from your head to your very toes. Your clit throbbed, swollen with arousal. The tingling sensations made your inner walls clamp down and you found yourself wishing not for the first time for his cock to fill you up. 

“Answer me.” Yoongi hissed between his teeth—a warning you didn’t dare ignore.

"Y-yes, yes, I did," you finally responded after struggling to remember the initial question. 

"Is that all? Was that all he put inside of you?”

“No.” With a swipe of your tongue, you licked your dry lips. 

“No?”

The one word question was enough to know that he wasn’t going to let it go until you elaborated your answer. You squirmed in his hold, your heart pounding as you finally admitted what he wanted to know. “He put his cock in-inside me.”

“You let him fuck you?” The incredulity that colored his tone sounded so genuine you almost believed his act. You shuddered. “I should’ve known a dirty little slut like you wouldn’t be able to keep her legs shut.”

“I’m sorry, sir. Please, p-please fu—” You gulped, your throat dry.

“Speak up, girl!” He snapped, slapping the palm of his hand over your slick center. As soon as his fingers hit your clit, you felt your back arching and your sensitive nipples rub up against the hard, wooden surface of the desk. The searing pain hit all of your nerve endings, effectively rendering you speechless. Meanwhile, your hips futilely chased after his punishing touch, hoping to finally get the satisfaction you were craving for. "Tell me, do you like getting humiliated? I'm trying to punish you but you seem to be enjoying this far too much. I thought that a girl like you would need a firm hand to get her act together, but I think that you need more than that, don’t you?"

"Answer me.” Yoongi punctuated his command with another smack to your lower lips, the sudden blow leaving you dizzy and bereft of coherency.

"Yes—ah fuck, sir please!" Gasping, the feeling of the harsh sting shot straight to your swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves like an electric shock. For a short second, your mind felt blissfully blank as the zap of pleasure traveled through your entire body from one extremity to another. "Please touch me, I need to come!"

"I can see that.” He laughed, spreading out your cheeks out so he could have a better look at the proof of your shame. “Your hole keeps clenching, asking for fingers...or perhaps it needs a nice, thick cock? Hm?"

A whimper left your lips before you could think of subduing it. The thought of finally having him buried deep inside of you was nearly too much to bear. From the way you were bent over and spread wide open, you were basically offering yourself to him. All he had to do was take what was his.

“Please fuck me now,” you moaned, hoping that he would douse the fire between your legs. The need for friction was so unbearable you thought that you would burst at the seams. You tried to undulate your hips in a silent plea for more but his left hand kept you pinned down and immobile to the table.

"I thought as much. What makes you think you deserve mine? Do you honestly think you deserve this cock?” As if to tease you even further, he pressed himself against your exposed backside. Your entire body shuddered as it felt the prominent outline of his erect length through the material of his pants. Even through the layers of fabric, you could tell that he was well endowed. Images of him on screen, feeding his cock to his partner as she begged him to fuck her throat, flashed through your mind. Your mouth watered at the prospect of finally having him in the way that you so desired.

“Please, sir.”

Your mouth was so dry that your plea could barely be heard over the thundering of your heart. Somehow, he had understood your dire need, for he spoke, “Little whores like you should know how to beg for a fucking properly.” His voice was full of disappointment as he stepped away from you. Panicking from the loss of proximity, you hurried to placate him.

“Sir! Please fuck my dirty pussy. Fuck Taehyung’s cum out of my pussy. Please, sir, I’m your slut, only yours, please make your slut cum.”

Your watery plea was met with tense silence, and it was then that you realized that you had said the wrong thing. 

“Up,” he ordered, finally breaking the stifling stillness.

Your reactions were somewhat delayed, dizziness dulling your senses and slowing you down. Still feeling unstable, you gripped the edge of the desk, your knuckles turning white. Blood rushed to your head and you had to wait for a few seconds before the spots of light that danced in your vision faded away.

"Naughty sluts don't wear clothes, do they?"

Even though it was clearly a rhetorical question, you replied anyway, head bowed in shame, "No, sir."

Without waiting for his verbal command, you began to strip yourself of the cheap, white blouse. Subconsciously, you made sure to face one of the cameras as you slowly undid the buttons of your top one by one. Normally, you would be acutely aware of how everyone's attention was focused on you, but the only thing you could focus on this time was Yoongi's predatory stare. It was the minute changes in his expression that gave him away—his pupils were blown wide with lust, his nostrils flaring slightly as he drank the sight of you in—and, of course, the bulge in his slacks that he didn't bother to hide.

Next came the skirt. It hadn't been covering much to begin with, but with the way it was bunched up useless at your hips, you didn't feel any more exposed than you previously did once it came off.

Left in only your lacy bra, you played coy, your fingers just barely keeping the flimsy material held up. This part of the scene hadn't been explicitly discussed beforehand, but many things had deviated from the original script. And since nobody had interrupted the two of you yet, you figured that you were allowed to take a few liberties. Instead of feeling confused and lost from the unpredictability of the events, a strange feeling of excitement surged through you. It didn't feel like you were going through practiced motions; you felt wholly engaged in the present. You only had a vague idea of where this was headed and the element of surprise kept you on your toes.

Yoongi, ever in character, was not amused by your games. He clucked his tongue and narrowed his eyes in warning. Tilting his head as if silently asking you 'do you really want to play this game?’ you finally cowered. Your hands fell to your side along with your last material scrap of decency. There was not a single thread to cover you any longer—Yoongi was free to scrutinize every inch of exposed skin without a barrier to block his view. By slipping off your last item of clothing, you had bent yourself to his will and surrendered your body to him.

“On the desk, on your hands and knees. Ass up and hold yourself open for me.”

You scrambled to comply, not wanting to test his patience. Maybe if this was another day, in another place...but here, right now, you felt yourself follow his lead as if your body was on automatic. 

The position was somehow even more degrading than the previous one. From this angle, Yoongi now had a better view of your drenched pussy. And by holding yourself open for him, you felt like a willing participant to your own humiliation. Perched on all fours atop the piece of furniture, you felt like just another object of decoration—your sole purpose to be used or admired as pleased. 

You felt terribly exposed, but there was no denying the resulting spike of arousal in your stomach. But just as quickly as the burst of desire spiked, it disappeared, leaving you even more sexually frustrated than before.  

"CUT!" the director yelled from somewhere behind you. The sudden reminder that you weren't alone, that this wasn't real, made you flinch. It felt like someone had yanked you straight back to reality without forewarning and you were left confused and disoriented, stuck between the truth and fantasy. "Good, you guys are doing good. Let's take a short break. We need to fix the lighting.”

Film breaks weren’t uncommon but you had been so immersed in the scene that you were slow to react. "Fix her makeup before we prep for the second part," came the second set of instructions. 

Truthfully, you weren't paying attention; too busy steadying your racing heart. A young woman came forward and blotted the sweat at your hairline with a tissue before reapplying a layer of gloss on your lips and retouching your eyeliner. You barely registered her actions, not focused on your surroundings in the least.

"We're going to stick the bulb inside of you now, okay?"

It took several moments for you to understand that they were talking to you. As the words finally registered, you nodded your agreement.

The strange, artificial mixture felt cold inside of your walls. It was probably the usual stuff they used when they shot creampies, you thought distantly, not caring. Every squirt inside of you made your hips twitch in reaction although there was nothing sexy about this; the clinical approach dampened your arousal and gave you time to clear your mind. Your eyebrows knitted together as you patiently waited for the faux semen to fill you up. They made sure not to shoot it deep inside, so you felt it slowly start to ooze out as soon as the assistant stepped away from you. 

"Yoongi, we'll restart from your last line, ‘ass up and hold yourself open for me’, got it? Everyone ready? Scene 2, take 2, aand action!"

Silence fell upon the watching crew members. This way, it was easy to erase their presence and give your attention to Yoongi. 

"Hold yourself open for me." Softly, he whispered, his voice smooth like liquid silk.

You reached behind you, fingers gripping your now sore skin, and held yourself open so that he could inspect your pussy. His hot breath fanned over your backside, and it took all of your strength not to squirm away from his proximity.

"Look how easy you are. Head down, ass up like a bitch in heat."  Every word had you spiraling deeper into submission. You whimpered, low in your throat, the degrading words making you throb, "I bet Taehyung had no trouble at all sliding in this greedy cunt. You probably asked for it, didn't you? Can't live without something filling this hole up."

"Silly slut," he pinched your throbbing clit, ripping a pained yelp from your throat. "Your pussy is mine. Only I get to cum inside. You take my cum, and only when I think you're worthy enough for my seed."

The thought of belonging to him, of having him use you like his own personal plaything, made your body quiver with desire. More than anything, you wanted him to fuck you good, to take what belonged to him. In that moment, you were his. His voice controlled you, his hands disciplined you, his cock would reward you. Every inch of your pleasure belonged to him.

Your mouth watered—a burning thirst raging inside of you. You were more than convinced you would be willing to do anything to douse the ache that ate away at the remaining bits of your sanity. "I only want your cock, sir. No one gives it to me like you, I can only cum with your cum inside of me."

"Get your fingers nice and wet, slut. Get yourself clean and ready for me."

The slippery fluid inside of you felt no different than cold lube. As your fingers pumped in and out of your tight hole, the mixture spilled out of you, staining the insides of your thighs with opaque white. The mess you were making was of little importance—all of your senses were focused instead on your burgeoning orgasm. Yoongi had already wound you up so tightly that you felt the coil inside of you ready to snap at a moment's notice. 

Suddenly you remembered that Yoongi was watching your performance with hawk eyes. Afraid of the consequences you would have to face if you came without permission, you slowed down your movements, hoping he would allow you at least this. 

But no such mercy came. The sharp sting on the side of your right cheek made you lurch forward, your knees sliding against the sleek and polished surface. Yoongi's hands were instantly by your hips, grounding you in place. His strong grip made your worries ebb away; you trusted him to keep you from toppling over onto the ground. 

The stark contrast between Yoongi’s reassuring touch and the hard edge in his tone was startling. "Is all of his cum out yet? No? Then get back to work," he snapped out his command, his hands now spreading your cheeks wide open so that he and the camera could have a perfect view of your messy pussy. “Look how fucking filthy you are, it’s leaking all over. Just how much cock did you take for it to make so much of a mess?”

You could feel your skin heating up again, his lewd commentary setting you aflame with renewed desire. Your fingers worked the cum-colored lube out of your core, every loud squelch picked up by the cameras. Mouth parted; whine after whine escaped from your lips. Your need for release was becoming more unbearable by the second, and you were reaching that point where the consequences of your actions started to matter little.

“Little slut wants to cum?” The mocking lilt in Yoongi’s voice told you he wasn’t going to let you have it easy. Your head lolled forward, resigning yourself to more of what he had in store for you. “You won’t, and want to know why?”

He wound his fingers through your tresses, before yanking hard. Your scalp burned and you had no choice but to tilt your head back and meet his steely stare. From above, he exuded dominance and authority; his icy expression and firm grip in your hair challenging you to not break eye contact. 

“No, sir,” you rasped, finding it hard to form the words with the way your head was bent backwards. 

“You won’t because dirty whores can only cum with a fat cock inside of them, isn’t that right?” He spat, his features twisting almost as if he was disgusted with you. 

But you knew that was far from the truth. After all, you weren’t blind to the way his pupils were dilated—only a thin circle of brown was left, the hunger in his eyes having eclipsed the rest. His nostrils flared when you mewled in response to the humiliation—another visible sign of his arousal. You knew he wanted you, but the problem was that he, unlike you, had perfect control over his desire. 

Try as you might, it was impossible to taper the need pulsing between your thighs. You craved it as much as the air you breathed. 

“I can only cum if I have you inside me,” you sobbed, giving in completely. Any reservations were gone; you knew you would do anything to please this man. Hand still buried in your cunt, you begged, “My pleasure is yours, sir. I’m want—only want your thick cock inside of me, please take what’s yours. I’m yours, just yours. I’m a dirty slut, please u—use me.”

Shivers wracked through your frame when you heard him slide down his zipper. All of your senses were trained on him, your body reacting to even the slightest rustle of clothes. 

“Good slut.” The silken croon made its way to your ears and you closed your eyes, letting the praise wash over you. “Let me see if your cunt’s ready for me.” When Yoongi easily replaced your fingers with his own, you instantly felt the stretch. He crooked his digits inside of you, listening to your needy whimpers with relish. Two fingers quickly became three, the force of his thrusts never slowing down. 

“I’m going to fuck you from behind, slut. But that’s how you like it, don’t you?” You sniffled, not trying to refute the claim. To be taken from behind like some animal in heat, forced to submit to the brunt of his passion... When he phrased it like that, it sounded so humiliating, so degrading. Here you were, bent and kneeling on a desk, your naked ass perked up for his viewing pleasure, just like the common slut he was accusing you of being. “Like a good little bitch.”

You didn’t deny his accusations because you knew it to be true. Your breasts only got this sensitive if you were ovulating or if you were really turned on. And there was no use denying the former, not with the way your cunt was shiny and drenched with your own fluids. 

“Bend over the desk properly if you want to get fucked.” 

Never before had you completed a task with so much enthusiasm. You stretched your limbs out, your feet finding purchase on the ground while your hands gripped the edge of the desk. Excitement pooled in your gut; you had never felt so eager for a fucking before. You were unsure how much time had passed since the start of the shoot, but it somehow felt like lifetimes ago. You had been ready for his cock half a century ago.

It seemed like Yoongi was done dawdling around as well. He eased the tip of his cock inside of you. There was so much of your slick and lube, that it took two, three tries before successfully pushing in. You let out a shaky breath, body shuddering. Above you, Yoongi let out a grunt, his hands kneading your reddened flesh between his fingers. He kept you open for him, his attention fixed on the way your warm walls gripped his head snugly, eager to be fed more. Unable to form coherent words, you clenched around him, attempting to draw him in deeper. 

“A perfect plaything, letting me use her up however I want.” His words cut off into a growl as he bottomed out, his balls slapping against you. Your eyes watered, the girth of his hardened shaft stretching you out deliciously. Sweat beaded at your brow as you struggled to stay still for him, wanting him to use you as he pleased. 

Yoongi started up an easy rhythm, each of his thrusts making you slide across the surface of the desk. You felt stimulated from all over—you stiff nipples rubbed against the polished wood while his cock worked its way inside of you. Expletives intermingled with the occasional praise; and his grunts of satisfaction coaxed out your moans of pleasure. 

“Tell me, can Taehyung fuck you this good?” 

Distantly, you recognized this as a line from the script and your body reacted as if on auto-pilot. “No one can fuck me as good as you.” 

“Is that right? Then why did you let him inside your cunt?” A deep thrust made you choke out a high-pitched moan, the sound slutty even to your own ears. He stayed buried deep inside of you, but you barely had time to catch your breath before he tightened his fingers around your locks and pulled. Using the grip in your hair to guide you into the position he desired, he yanked you upwards, your shaking arms now propping your upper body up. 

“B-because I’m a slut,” you admitted, your head hanging low in shame. You weren’t even sure if it was an act or not, but the words seemed to spur him on even more, his thrusts speeding up once again. “I like having cum inside of me.”

“A cumslut, huh?” You struggled to stay propped up, but every harsh piston of his hips made stability difficult to maintain. “Can’t go without a man’s cum filling you up. You like being a cumdump for men that much?”

“O-only yours, only for you.” 

“That’s right. I own this slutty cunt.” Yoongi brought his mouth close to your ear, his teeth biting your lobe before mouthing down the side of your neck. As he left a trail of hot kisses down the column of your neck, he brought his hands up to cup your breasts, feeling them bounce in his hold with every slap of his hips against your own. You felt his breathing becoming ragged, the sound doing things to your insides.

He sunk his fingers in the supple flesh, probably leaving another set of marks to match the ones on your hips and ass, and used his hold as leverage to fuck into you faster. Every thrust inside you knocked the breath out of you—your desire spiraling to new heights with each whispered word into your ear. The pleasure started to become too much to bear and you clenched around his length to signal your approaching orgasm. 

“You’re gonna cum already? Should’ve known a slut like you wouldn’t be able to control herself when fed the right cock.” He didn’t slow down at all, his cock impaling you over and over again with no reprieve in sight. You knew if he kept this up, you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back anymore.

“Please sir, let me cum,” you begged, your plea coming out in short pants. You didn’t know which one would give out first—your legs or your arms. The only thing that kept you upright and standing were Yoongi’s hands kneading your breasts and his hips pinning yours to the desk. 

Yoongi released your nipple with a hard tug, the free hand snaking up to your parted mouth. Instinctively, your lips wrapped around the invading digits, sucking it like it would a cock. “So greedy. You don’t get to make the demands here, slut. But I’ll be nice today because you took your spanking so well. Go on then, little slut.”

The fact that you couldn’t even see the fact of the person who was stuffing two of your holes made the fucking so impersonal. A new wave of shame swept over you, and you felt like you could drown in it. Your body thrashed in his hold, a lightning bolt of pleasure zapping through your entire body and making you starry-eyed. Your entire world shrunk, until all you knew was him and the thick cock spearing you open.  

Yoongi’s hips stuttered, his own release in reach. You felt his length twitch inside you but he quickly pulled out, his right hand stroking his slick shaft in furious strokes. You barely registered the first spurt of semen land on your well fucked pussy, the rest of his seed painting your lower lips in fields of white. 

The force of your orgasm wiped you out and you took a few seconds to regain your bearings, eyes still closed, blocking out the outside world.

It took several moments for you to be brought back to reality, spots of light still dancing in your vision whenever you blinked. Your chest heaved from exertion, your eyes watery. Your body felt incredibly light, like you could float away from the ground at any moment like a hot air balloon.

“____?” Someone repeated your name, trying to snap you out of your daze by shaking your shoulders. “Here’s some water.” A set of arms helped you sit up, and a cold glass of water was pushed into your numbed hands. “You did so well! There was no reason to be nervous, I knew you would do great.”

Belatedly, you realized that it was your agent speaking to you. He wrapped your shoulders in a pink, fluffy bathrobe—the soft fabric a welcome comfort. Seokjin showered you in praises, asking if you need anything more, but his voice faded into white noise. Your eyes flitted around the room, restless, searching.

As if feeling the weight of your gaze on him, Yoongi looked up from his phone and smiled at you. Even if his cheeks were flushed pink and his hair matted with sweat, he looked infinitely more composed than you felt. Biting the inside of your cheek, you wondered how you could possibly approach him. 

A faint buzzing pulled you from your train of thought. When you looked down, you saw a message light up the screen of your phone. Your thumb swiped the surface so that the newest message could fill up the entire screen.

 [unknown number] : hey. i cant wait to work with you again ;-)

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[edit: short continuation.]

Although your body was thoroughly sated, there was still an eagerness that hadn’t been completely quashed. You were still drunk off your high, your body now hooked to Yoongi’s touch. You wanted a repeat. Badly.

After the initial swell of elation had ebbed, you steadied your trembling fingers to type out a hurried reply. Thank God for autocorrect was your first coherent thought. You weren’t sure if your inability to spell the simplest of words was because of your stubby thumbs or because Yoongi had fucked every last feeling out of your body, leaving you numb all over. Did it even matter? The end result was the same, either way.

A minute passed. Your thumbs stumbled across the keyboard in your rushed attempt to correctly type out your response. It took another two tries before you finally succeeded in writing a message that was 1) free of spelling mistakes and 2) simultaneously made your intentions obvious (a flirtatious winky face included for good measure). However right before you were about to hit ‘send’, a new set of vibrations put a halt to your actions.

[unknown number] : i’m jimin btw. :) the 2nd AC.

What?

[unknown number] : you look really pretty on camera :)

[unknown number] : and in real life too! not just on camera.

[unknown number] : sorry if i sound so forward. but it’s been a long time sinc—

Your brain screeched to a halt as more messages flooded in, one right after the other.

Jimin…the second assistant cameraman?

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(edit added 12.08)

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