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「𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕」 · take i

❝𝙸’𝚖 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗.❞

➥ Hyunjin x Reader (f) — 7.7k

➥ Pornstar, Fake Dating-adjacent, Romantica

⚠ — (Non-exhaustive, full cw policy here. See masterlist for more): See masterlist for general warnings. There won't be any more "warnings" for future chapters; just go in blind and enjoy the ride.

➥ When Hyunjin says his third 'No' in a row for an upcoming project, the bar door swings open as karma's magnum opus, and the expected guest of the night lets herself in.

He puts the gear in reverse so fast that his barely-there backbone irreparably cracks.

𝙼𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝙼𝙴

It may look cocky, but it at least correctly described him.

Hyunjin knew sex; he had built an entire career around passion and pleasure. Not only did he love his job, he was fucking good at it, and it didn’t matter if he was facing key lights on a set or a ring light in his bedroom for him to be jaw-droppingly spectacular. He wasn’t just a pretty face, either—he was talented in performance arts, be it acting or seduction, able to charm anyone, anywhere, anytime he wanted.

Oh, to be cursed with a blessing…

His slightly dramatic dismissal from his former studio left him perfectly unscathed. Like the unbothered king he was, he nicely swept all his suppressed feelings under a rug, dusted off his shoulders, and carried on with his life as if nothing happened.

Because as far as Hyunjin was concerned, it was indeed nothing.

He was doing just fine appeasing his barely satiable appetite for attention with solo work, undeclared, unattached, still insanely popular as the Internet’s favorite bad decision. One thirst trap was enough to cause mass hysteria, and he had more offers than he could handle.

But when Jisung’s name flashed on his screen one night, he was forced to take a good look at that rug, and that was when he realized there was now a small bump right in the middle of it.

What did his former producer want to do with him after all this time anyway? Did his wife decide she could do a better job of crushing his dignity and wanted a do-over? Did he want to inform him about a looming lawsuit so he could lawyer up? Did Bondi want to…?

Did… something happen to…?

Hyunjin almost didn’t pick up the phone. Almost. And god knows he shouldn’t have, but his curiosity sank its teeth into his flesh so hard that he found himself swiping towards the green icon in physical pain.

“You have reached Strokes Rekt Support. Thank you for calling, your desperation is very important to us,” Hyunjin faked an authentic-adjacent automated voice. “If you have something of substance to say, please press two.”

He wasn’t expecting to hear an actual key tone. Jisung stayed silent on the other end of the line, clearly waiting for Hyunjin either to hang up on his face or to properly greet him so he could start talking.

“All our operators are currently serving other customers. Please do not hold the line.”

“Talk to me before I camp outside your apartment, you shady-ass sex incarnate!”

Even Hyunjin was surprised to hear himself chuckle when he heard that all-familiar chaotic voice again. His tightened jaw suddenly loosened, and he felt his grudge starting to drain.

One molecular drop per second, but still…

“This is Sam. How can I help you?” he continued with his customer service voice as he relaxed into the couch, propping his feet up on the battered coffee table. “Did you change your last name yet, boss?”

“Talks are in progress with my attorney. I was thinking I could hyphenate,” Jisung replied with profound seriousness. “How’s everything, man?”

“Peachy as always,” Hyunjin picked up the pen resting on the couch cushion. “Did you have a nightmare about me or something?”

“Does it have to be that dramatic? Maybe you just popped into my head,” Jisung offered an almost convincing reason. “Don’t I ever cross your mind, too?”

“Sure, I do think about you sometimes,” Hyunjin spoke with a tranquil smile on his lips, spinning the pen between his fingers. “Like I would think about an ex I’ll never get back together with.”

“Ouch, was our breakup that nasty?”

Hyunjin sighed. Of course it wasn’t. It didn’t even have anything to do with Jisung at all; everything was the consequence of his own self-sabotage, and the poor guy was just collateral damage.

But being the bigger man had never been his style.

“Considering how the topic comes up once a week in therapy, no, it was totally amicable,” he tried to flatten the bump on the rug by stomping on it. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I want to talk to you about something, but I don’t wanna do it over the phone,” Jisung cut to the chase without a beat. “Can I take you out tomorrow night? It’s important.”

“Important as in…?” Hyunjin dragged out the last word with narrowed eyes, now shaking the pen between two of his fingers somewhat nervously. “Anything less than a DEFCON 3 situation is not really—”

“I have two words for you,” Jisung interrupted before Hyunjin could get any pettier. “Feu d’Or.”

And even though he was unable to see it, he could still tell Hyunjin’s face had changed from the dense silence that suddenly came between them.

“That’s right, baby,” he grinned with smug satisfaction. “Did we reach DEFCON 1 yet, or what?”

Feu d’Or. Something Hyunjin had wanted for an embarrassingly long while, but now just a line at the very bottom of his bucket list, harshly scribbled over with disappointment so that no accidental onlooker could read it. The closest he came to it… It was the very project he was removed from because of… reasons.

What could have possibly changed between then and now?

“One drink. That’s all I’m asking,” Jisung insisted. “To be humiliatingly honest, the work part is just an excuse to see you. I really do miss you.”

Miss him, huh? But maybe not enough to give a call on a random Tuesday rather than when a favor was needed.

“Fine, one drink,” Hyunjin accepted the invitation nevertheless with a loud exhale, already regretting everything as he was uttering the words.

He didn’t have a conscious agenda when he said yes to this. Honest. Maybe he was just a little too bored nowadays. Maybe he had a little more pride than he let on and wanted to show off just how much he was thriving. Or maybe the snake living in his head had done a silent calculation on his behalf, telling him this could be an opportunity. Either to settle the score, or… something else entirely.

Who knows?

“FUCK, man, you’re gonna be the reason I’ll come out of the closet as Hyunsexual one of these days. Just look at you!”

Hearing the on-brand thirst after all this time unclogged something within Hyunjin, and shards of memories suddenly started flashing behind his eyelids. It was as if they had seen each other on set just yesterday and no time had passed at all. He would never admit this out loud, but he had indeed missed Jisung, the only man he had a genuine connection with while it lasted.

The formality small talk was brief. Hyunjin was only one sip into his scotch when Jisung slid a document of sorts towards him, wasting no second of the precious one-drink-long time they had together.

“Now, the meat,” he clasped his hands on the table. “Feu d’Or has a new category open this year, and I want to submit for an award with a limited series.”

“A limited series? How would that even go?” Hyunjin mockingly laughed. “Previously on Fake Taxi… Everybody came. I wonder what’s going to happen in this episode, oh, do tell.”

“Ha, funnnny. It’s nothing like that,” Jisung deadpanned. “We’re playing for the Oscars of erotic cinema, and this thing will have my signature under it. Obviously it’s gonna be top-notch, cutting edge, state of the art, all that shit. You are my first and only choice as the male lead.”

Hyunjin suddenly stopped reading the synopsis and lifted his gaze from the script into Jisung’s eyes. He seemed dead serious and didn’t even blink when he said that with his whole chest. A question immediately started drilling a hole in his head, and after a five-second beat, he said fuck it to his resolve of keeping the tension to a minimum tonight.

“Don’t you have Chris for this stuff?” he cocked a brow, somewhat suspicious. “Why are you coming to me?”

“He doesn’t perform anymore.”

Oh. So he was the first and only choice due to a technicality. Because he was the next best thing in Golden Boy’s absence. Like he always was.

“I can hear you resenting,” Jisung stared a hole into Hyunjin’s forehead, voice all stern. “Before you jump to extremely wrong conclusions, even if he was still performing, he wouldn’t be a good fit for this role. I need the kinda toxic fuckboy energy that induces the most passionate ‘I can fix him’ for this.”

“Have you cast your other lead yet?” Hyunjin pretended he was perfectly unaffected by the words he had just heard.

“The person I have in mind is an insanely talented friend of mine, but she’s... classically trained,” Jisung heaved a nervous sigh. “Not exactly gunning for a porn resume.”

Hyunjin huffed a laugh. No shit.

“I really need her to say yes to make this thing Feu-worthy, but I have no idea how to get her to buy in. It’s a really hard sell.”

“I hate to break it to you, boss, but hard would imply you have a chance,” Hyunjin swirled the drink in his hand. “This is straight up no sell.”

“Way to kill my vibe, man…”

“It is what it is. You might wanna make a shrink appointment if you think you can sell porn to Shakespeare groupies.” He raised his hand and gestured three levels in the air, each one lowering closer to the table. “There is beneath them, then thirty feet of crap, and then porn.”

“When did I ever do just porn, Strokes?” Jisung wore a triumphant smile on his lips. “That’s actually the other reason I asked to meet.”

“What is?”

“I need you to seduce her.”

“You what?” Hyunjin laughed, low and lazy.

“Seduce her. She will be here soon,” Jisung repeated with a straight face, like he was asking him to pick up groceries and not cajole someone into starring in arthouse porn. “You understand the assignment. You’re relentlessly charming. If there is one person who can make her say yes, it’s you.”

“Wow, you must really want her if you’re willing to butter me up.”

“I really want her and you,” he emphasized. “I’m looking at the horny rendition of Romeo and Juliet here. DiCaprio version, of course. You are a perfect match!”

“Just out of curiosity,” Hyunjin tapped his fingers on the smooth mahogany surface, “does the boss lady know you’re here with me right now?”

“Yeah, why?”

“And she’s greenlighted my involvement in this project?”

“Of course.”

“We didn’t exactly part ways on best terms,” he pressed even further. “How come she is super chill about me now?”

“Because I wore her down. She knows I mastered my oral skills by watching your work,” Jisung answered, utterly serious. “This is bigger than some petty fight. If we succeed, it’s a career milestone for me, and a fuck ton of prestige for her.”

It seemed like Hyunjin was running out of reasons to say no. It was suspicious, to say the least, that everything was suddenly all cool. When something was too good to be true, it usually was. There was this uneasy feeling right under his ribcage, telling him to tread with utmost caution and look for the catch.

Because there had to be one.

“Fine…”

“REALLY?!”

“…I’ll help you with your friend even though you ambushed me into it,” Hyunjin completed his sentence, “but best of luck finding your male lead.” He took his phone out and tapped away, clicks of keyboard culminating into a whoosh sound at the end. “There. I sent Minho’s number to you. Solid guy, smooth like butter even in group scenes.”

“Oh, COME ON!”

Jisung was going on and on, but Hyunjin had stopped listening two sentences ago, just politely nodding at the futile attempts to convince him. Oh, this was going to be so great. Oh, this was his biggest project to date. Oh, the budget was so insane he could pay him with a Lambo if he wished. Feu d’Or, man, FEU D’OR!!!

“In case I wasn’t clear enough, I’m really not interested in rekindling our love, boss,” Hyunjin flashed a dull smile. “It was nice while it lasted, but you can’t make an ex your next.”

“But you can still have sex,” Jisung pointed at him, enthusiasm still through the roof. “What’s the harm in being fuckbuddies for a few months?

“No.”

“For old time’s sake.”

“No.”

“Pleeeeease?”

“For the last time,” he grabbed his glass, getting ready to finish his drink in one go, “No.”

The thud of the empty glass meeting the table initiated a chain reaction, and the bar door swung open. The movement in the distance stole Hyunjin’s attention, and the stunning woman that entered stole his breath away. Red coat. High heels. Finesse for days.

And scanning the room like she was looking for someone.

“Is that your friend by the door?” he pointed towards the entrance with a nod.

“Oh, yeah,” Jisung raised his hand to signal his location.

You waved him back and started walking towards the table by the window with quick steps. As you approached closer, Hyunjin did his best not to stare, but his eyes were still on you as he talked to Jisung.

“Delete the number.”

“What?”

“I said delete the number,” he quickly repeated before you arrived. “If she says yes, I’m in.”

“Don’t toy with me like that, man! Are you serious?”

“Like a fucking heart attack.”

“Then make sure we get the yes,” he hissed.” “I have no project without her.”

“Hi, am I late?” you pulled Jisung into a hug. “I thought you said 9.”

“No, you’re on time. We got here early,” he answered as he pulled away, then introduced you to the stranger sitting across him. “This is Hyunjin.”

“Do I… know you?” you asked with furrowed brows as you extended your hand for a shake.

“I don’t know. Do you?” Hyunjin smirked with a lazy, practiced curve of his lips.

“You look familiar,” you muttered with narrowed eyes, a trace of suspicion melting into confusion. “Have we met before?”

“I’ve got one of those faces. You’re probably thinking some celebrity,” Hyunjin shrugged, voice smoother than velvet. “Pleasure to meet you.”

The reason you were there that night was your soul-crushing dry spell lately in terms of work. The theater world had started getting a little… mundane. The same plays over and over, nothing to help you stretch your creative muscles or hone your craft. Naturally, when Jisung called you overly passionate about a screen role he wanted to offer, you gladly accepted to meet him.

He hadn’t said anything about Aphrodite’s son joining you for drinks, though.

“Without further ado,” he dove right into it after your rosé arrived, “You’ve been mentioning that you wanted to do something daring for the longest time, and man do I have the best fucking thing for you.”

“Loving the enthusiasm so far,” you nodded with a big smile. “Let’s hear it!”

He shot a look at Hyunjin as if to say I’m going in, then started his presentation in earnest.

“The story opens with two emotionally unavailable people who already have this massive unresolved sexual tension between them,” he opened with palpable confidence like he was boasting about his firstborn’s academic achievements. “They cross paths again at a house party and end up being friends with benefits to explore pleasure together.”

“Okay?”

“And when one of their steamy experiments goes awry, they will be forced to confront their feelings and make a decision,” he concluded his elevator pitch. “We want to chronicle their journey in the form of a serial, and each episode is going to feature one of these experiments.”

Okay, wow.

The emotional premise seemed intriguing enough. If this popped up on Netflix, you would definitely check it out, but the real question was, would you keep watching past the first episode? The market was already saturated with shows featuring heavily erotic undertones regardless of the genre, not to mention the surplus of I caught feelings for my fuckbuddy movies.

How were you going to stand out in that crowd?

“How steamy are we talking about here?”

Jisung’s sudden wiggling in his seat was definitely a sus move like he was sitting on something bigger than he let on.

“I mean… It’s sex,” he tried to be as nonchalant as he could be. “It’s bound to get graphic.”

“How steamy, Jisung?” you stared at him with a pseudo-psychotic smile, “And that answer better be It’s just simulated sex.”

Yup, the moment of truth. He needed to let the cat out of the bag, but he just didn’t know how to do it tastefully.

“It’s… not,” was all he was able to say after writhing for ten seconds.

“You’re asking me to star in fucking PORN?”

“It’s erotic cinema!”

“What the hell is the difference?!”

“One is a tasteful depiction of people having sex, and the other is an IKEA assembly tutorial for two sets of genitals!” He abruptly turned to Hyunjin with an apologetic hand gesture, “No offense, man.”

“None taken,” Hyunjin shrugged. “As an industry veteran, I concur.”

You were reminded of someone else’s existence at the table when that velvet voice caressed your ears again. He was just sitting there, super chill, sipping on his refreshed scotch and watching the chaos before him like he had tuned in to an extremely enjoyable episode of Saturday Night Live. When he said industr—

Oh, fuck…

“Holy shit, you’re Sam Strokes,” you spoke without thinking, blankly staring at him with parted lips.

“Do you remember where you know me from now?” he smiled sultrily into his drink.

Why, YES, YOU DID!

Back to back Pleasure-impics Golden Medalist, the Connoisseur of the Cunt, the Titan of the Tongue, the motherfucking God of Oral was sitting right there. It wasn’t like you had done something to embarrass yourself, yet you were so flustered with one look that you still wanted the ground to part open and swallow you whole. Meanwhile, Jisung took the slightly starstruck energy and worked to his advantage like the opportunist businessman he was. Well, he had turned into.

“Look, this is not your typical trash porn with minimal plot. I worked really hard on this.” Then he pointed at Hyunjin like he was presenting an offering to the queen, “My man here invented eroticism, and even the nastiest stuff he does looks fucking aesthetic to the camera. He’s the best partner you can have to portray intimacy.”

“Praise makes me cum. Tread carefully, please,” Hyunjin politely smiled, amused to his bones.

“H–He… He would be my partner?!” you shrieked, your eyes widened in shock, and now you were burning up for two reasons.

“I hope it doesn’t displease you,” Hyunjin flashed the puppy eyes with dangerously convincing concern.

It was doing the extreme opposite of displease, but it was also making you lowkey self-conscious.

When you said daring, you most certainly didn’t have this in mind.

“I’d say this is the perfect challenge for an actress,” Hyunjin finally chimed in. “Erotic scenes require a lot more acting than you’d think.”

“I’m familiar. I did a lot of that with my ex-boyfriends to last a lifetime,” you spat, suddenly begrudging. “I appreciate the opportunity, Jisung, but no can do.”

Damn, two nos in one night? It had been a hot minute since Jisung got this rekt.

His mind was working in overdrive. If he couldn’t convince you, Hyunjin was also going to back off, and then there would be no project, and then there would be no submission, and that was just simply NNNOPE.

“Just look at the script once before you flat-out turn it down,” he cranked up the begging to the max. “I really think you’re gonna like it. Please? For me? With so many cherries on top?”

You heaved a deep sigh as you looked at the title that read Unconditional, turned a page, and started skimming the document.

It was actually somewhat wholesome. Jisung’s synopsis read ‘A couple experimenting within the safe space of their love for each other, buried six feet under their hearts.’ It made something tingle inside you for some reason. You went over a couple of pages to see what the scenes were like. The locations seemed to be intimate rather than the office of a raunchy casting director with a black leather couch. There was a lot of dialogue. Genuine, vulnerable dialogue. Half a page of a monologue somewhere.

To portray all of this… With Hyunjin… It was already tempting in itself.

But then your eyes darted to the production credits, and you saw the name.

Drea Blake.

“Dre— ANDREA BLAKE IS THE DIRECTOR?!!”

“You know her?!”

“CHARCOAL BLUES, HELLO?!”

“SHE’S MY SISTER IN LAW!”

“CONGRATULATIONS, YOU LUCKY DOG!!!”

You and Jisung hugged each other out of nowhere as if your favorite team had won the nationals. Now that you knew the queen herself was involved, a part of you reeeeeally wanted to do it, but…

Oh, the internal conflict was nauseating.

“I… I have to think about this, Ji. It’s… too much to process all of a sudden.”

“Take all the time you need! All I ask is that you give it a fair chance as a legitimate production,” he reassured you just to immediately contradict himself, “but you have to make a decision by the 15th.”

“HOW IS THAT ALL THE TIME I NEED?”

“We have a deadline to finish production so we can prepare for the award submission.”

Hyunjin was listening to the entire conversation in silence like he was just an outsider looking in, endlessly entertained for no reason and unable to stop smirking. He took another unrushed sip from his scotch, savoring the smoky taste on his tongue, then addressed Jisung.

“Boss, do you mind giving us some alone time?”

Jisung looked at him with such a loaded gaze that he didn’t even have to say anything. Hyunjin was very well aware that it was all up to him to drive this home now. Leaving the copy of the script with you, he left, urging you to call him as soon as you reached a decision even if it was the asscrack of dawn. When it finally sank in for you that you were alone at this table with Hyunjin, you suddenly became too aware of yourself, excessively feeling every single one of your limbs like you never had.

“Is this where you sway me with a one-on-one?” you attempted your hand at being chill and barely passed.

“Maybe. I can be very persuasive when I want to,” he tilted his head ever so slightly. “A lot of my first-time partners hesitated, too. I figured we could do a chemistry test to help you make your decision.”

“Chemistry test?” you cocked a brow, rapidly descending into a state of panic shortly after. “Wait, you’re not… actually asking to…”

“Have sex? Please,” he chortled, somehow managing to tickle you in the process. “We’re just gonna talk, and if you have any burning questions, you can ask me comfortably without someone breathing down your neck the whole time. When you don’t have chemistry with someone, it definitely shows on camera, so if you decide you’re not vibing with me, you can just tell Jisung it’s not gonna work.”

Well, when he put it that way, it sounded very reasonable.

“I don’t bite,” he leaned forward, his voice low. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Another glass of rosé doesn’t sound half bad right about now,” you let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Excuse me,” he stopped a passing waitstaff. “Could you tell Ian that Hyunjin would like his bespoke bottle? He knows what it means. Thank you.”

He was being so suave that you momentarily lost perspective, completely forgetting you were having drinks with a pornstar. How were you even supposed to approach this? Like a professional function? Like a social gathering? Like a fanmeeting?

As you were lost in your thoughts, Hyunjin leaned back, letting the moment linger as he traced the rim of his glass. Unless you were making things up, there seemed to be this… electric current between you, and you were wondering if he could feel it too.

Meanwhile Hyunjin was wondering if you, like him, had also traded magic for survival once upon a time.

“Have I seen you in anything?” he asked softly.

“I don’t think so. I haven’t been in anything major recently.”

“Then let’s go over what’s not recent.”

It was as if this was a blind date all of a sudden. It tickled you inside a little bit, but it also didn’t feel real at all. How was this guy a pornstar? Like… If you didn’t meet him under these circumstances, you could actually see yourself asking him to—

What?

You mentally slapped yourself as hard as you could. This wasn’t the time to be crushing, nor was this the person to have a crush on.

“I haven’t done any screen work before. Just theater,” you responded. “If you’re familiar with A Streetcar Named Desire, for example…”

“Anything with desire in it, I’m there,” he subtly raised his glass towards you.

Before you could even bask in the warmth of the moment, your bubble was loudly popped by a small group of people crowding the table, giggling and nudging each other like a bunch of schoolgirls.

“We are huge fans,” one of them declared, clearly on the verge of hyperventilating. “If it’s okay to ask, can we please see your tongue?”

Hyunjin raised his brows, then leaned towards the girls, beckoning them to approach like he was going to share a secret.

“No, it’s not okay. Please google it,” he stressed the word, albeit warmly smiling. “As you can see, I’m on a date here.”

Thump.

He said it, right? You didn’t mishear it. He looked these girls in the eye and said he was on a date. You freaking knew it was to politely send them away, thank you very much, but your heart rate didn’t get the memo.

“Oh, my god, sorry. I love you. Thank you. Sorry. Your girlfriend is so lucky. Sorry. Thank you. You’re the best, Sam!”

“Wow…” you snickered to yourself as they scurried away.

“Sorry about that. Thank you, I got it from here,” Hyunjin took the very expensive-looking, perfectly chilled bottle of rosé from the waiter, then asked you as he poured your wine. “Well, do you have any questions for me?”

Well… LOTS.

“A big one.” You cleared your throat, trying to buy time while looking for the right words that wouldn’t come across as offensive. “How are you so comfortable… like… recording…”

“Having sex on camera, you mean?”

“Yes,” you thickly gulped as you averted your eyes.

“You’re so cute,” he chortled, immediately sending a heavy heatstorm to your cheeks. “I guess it doesn’t feel that different from my own bedroom. I enjoy recording my sexual encounters. With consent, of course.”

“Isn’t it embarrassing to… do it in front of people?”

“You have your live audience, I have mine.”

How about that? You had never thought about it that way before. You didn’t feel embarrassed when a scene required you to be partially naked, did you? Then why should he?

“There is a certain allure to exhibitionism,” he spoke in that sensuous voice of his. “Why do people spend hours online watching others have sex? Because it turns them on. Let alone being embarrassed, I consider it a job well done if people on my set get hot and bothered.” He tilted his glass towards you, a wicked smirk curling like a serpent on his lips. “Think about it. We fuck so hot that someone has to leave the premises immediately to touch themselves. Isn’t that sexy?”

You wish you didn’t think about it because the mental image gave you a severe hot flash.

“So you like being watched, huh?”

“You can’t succeed in my line of business if you’re not an attention whore, even just a little bit. It’s kind of a prerequisite,” he uttered matter-of-factly. “It’s the college diploma of porn, if you will.”

“How did you decide you wanted a career in adult movies?”

Hyunjin flinched in his place just a little bit but managed to show no color.

“In college. I wanted to make the kind of movies I’d like to watch,” he replied. “I went to film school.”

“Seriously?!”

“Well, I didn’t finish, but yeah.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Creative differences,” he took a deep breath like he wanted to calm himself. “We weren’t allowed to shoot graphic sex as part of our projects.”

That was just fascinating. A pornstar. With film school knowledge. No wonder there was a certain aesthetic to his work.

“Is there anything in the script that caught your eye?”

“I’m more interested in the characters and how much of this project is going to be dedicated to their development,” you mindlessly flipped through the pages. “I’m all for a story that has sex in it, but not sure about a sex story.”

“If you’re concerned the sex will cheapen the work itself, you have nothing to worry about. The art behind this is solid,” Hyunjin reassured, his expression the most serious he wore on his face all night. “It is a challenge, but you will also have a say in how sex is depicted. Isn’t that worth something?”

“Did you read the script?”

“Don’t need to. Jisung wrote it, and you already know Drea’s entire oeuvre is about female sexual liberation and owning your pleasure,” he continued with confidence, zero hesitation in his endorsement. “We worked together before. If she tells me to walk into traffic, I’ll do it no questions asked because I know she has a legitimate reason.”

“I’m… surprised,” you broke into an endeared smile. “I didn’t expect you to take your job this seriously.”

“Just because I have sex on camera doesn’t change the facts. I’m still an actor.”

Indeed fascinating. Hyunjin was doing something most people frowned upon, the butt of a lot of jokes, but he wasn’t ashamed of it at all. Not only did he fully own it, but he even held it in high regard, describing himself as an actor. Not a pornstar. Not an adult entertainer. Actor.

Now that was an attitude you could get behind.

“Why are you trying so hard for me to accept this?” you asked, trying to catch glimpses of truth in his unreadable eyes. “What’s in it for you?”

Hyunjin remembered what he said to Jisung about the Shakespeare groupies earlier that night. Maybe the answer was inside the problem itself. He dimmed the sultry charms to a comfortable lumen, respect and seriousness matching that of a Royal Shakespeare Company audition.

“Wherefore doest mine lady bethink thither should beest a profound reason? Thee art quite quaint, and I but wanteth us to fornicate.”

A tremendously disgraceful laugh ripped from your throat, the way you were caught so off guard. He had delivered the fake line like it was supposed to be a heart-fluttering compliment, wording polite, gist horrendously brazen.

As if he didn’t basically tell you ‘You’re hot, let’s fuck’.

“Never in a million years would I expect an Elizabethan twist on fratboy mantras, and somehow I feel like I should say thank you,” you wiped the corners of your eyes. “Do we have to shoot porn for that, though?”

“Of course not, but you would never say yes to me if I put the moves on you as a civilian.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“When was the last time you went on a date with a pornstar?”

You saw it. He had that indifferent smile slapped to his lips, but he was slightly tensed up. Like he was mad at something.

Like he hated that word, even though he loved everything about it.

“I think erotic actor would describe you better,” you attempted to soften the mood, “And including today? Once.”

His velveteen smile came back. Not to his lips. To his eyes. Neon lights were dancing in them again, and it was such a beautiful sight to behold.

“Then you can at least expect me to show you a very good time,” he smugly responded.

“I thought we weren’t going to have sex tonight.”

“We’re not,” he shook his head. “I’m just studying what you look like when you’re turned on.”

“Why would you assume I am turned on?”

“I’m not assuming,” his grin grew wider. “You are.”

“How would you know?!”

“If eating pussy were culinary arts, I would be Gordon Ramsay times two,” he spoke with the certainty of a true expert. “I can tell how wet you are. Your scent changed.”

Jesus, this man… Why was he this hellbent on inducing a heart failure in you tonight exactly? More importantly, did he fucking get anything out of this except for diabolical entertainment?!

“Or you’re just perceiving what you want to perceive,” you countered in vain.

“And your nipples are staring at me.” He instantly raised his hands, “Respectfully.”

“I uh… er erhm… I’ve always wondered something,” you crossed your arms over your chest and leaned into the table, acting like you didn’t hear what he just said. “Your… expertise. Is there a reason you picked it as your niche?”

“First of all, thank you for calling it an expertise because it is,” he switched to gloat mode. “When I first started, I chose it as a subliminal tactic, but the unintended side effect was that it gave me a horrible case of oral fixation.”

“Subliminal tactic?”

“It equates me with guaranteed pleasure in your mind,” he clicked his tongue. “Cunnilingus is not something as normalized as, say, blowjobs. It’s still treated as a favor in this day and age rather than a staple in foreplay. Like kissing.”

“And when you say oral fixation…”

“I have fuckbuddies just for this purpose. I get a craving, I call them to eat them out.”

“You ask to meet to make them cum and leave?” your face contorted in confusion.

“No, I eat until I’m full, which takes about an hour if I just wanna snack. If I’m starving, good luck not passing out.” As he was bringing his glass to his lips, his hand hung midair when he saw your aghast expression, and he broke into yet another smirk. “Don’t look at me like that, my partners consent to this.”

“What’s even in it for you?” you asked, genuinely trying to understand. “I thought the point of having fuckbuddies was mutual benefit.”

“How do I explain this?” he pursed his lips together. “Have you heard of Stendhal Syndrome?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s kinda like that. I have such morbid weakness for the aesthetics of female genitalia that sometimes it makes me cum just to eat it. Everybody leaves happy.”

This time, it wasn’t a raised brow. It wasn’t parted lips. Your jaw straight up dropped at what you were hearing. He had to be fucking with you, right? There was no goddamn way.

“And now you’re curious if it’s true,” he sipped on his drink, smile insanely annoying.

“Stop reading my mind,” you reached for the bottle, but he stopped you to serve you himself.

“So,” he made a casual segue onto the next topic he had in mind, “How do you usually pleasure yourself?”

“WHAT?” you almost choked on the wine.

“Sorry, was that invasive?” he asked, infuriatingly calm.

“Uh… YEAH?”

“But how are we going to get to know each other without answering these questions?”

“Can’t we just tell each other what our favorite foods are?”

“Unless I get to eat cream off your pussy, I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

OUTRAGEOUS. Why the fuck was this guy so brazen like he had his shame gland removed during birth?! The closer you got to dying, the more he was on the brink of totally cracking. His cuteness aggression was so severe that he was barely holding himself back from wheezing his lungs out at how flustered he was making you, a crooked smile never leaving his lips.

“We should be able to talk about these things if there is a prospect of us getting physical,” he tsked with a pout.

“I mean…” you searched for your entire vocabulary to look for one word that would make sense. “Standard issue masturbation?”

“Toys?”

“Sometimes.”

“Clit suckers?”

“What even is that?”

“What gets you in the mood then?” he asked more seriously. “What are some things that excite you?”

“I’m… not sure I know what they are,” you answered, your eyes intently examining the wet circle on the coaster.

It wasn’t the sheer outrageousness of having sex on camera that made you hesitate this much. Hyunjin might have said erotic scenes required acting, but at the end of the day, the act was physical. There was touching, there was kissing, and you weren’t sure how convincingly you could fake something you’d never felt before. Being able to voice what you needed without dying of mortification was the hardest task on earth, which usually meant barely average sexual experiences with no external orgasm providers whatsoever. With a lot of acting involved.

Maybe that was what led you to a career in performing arts in the first place, who knows?

“Is there nothing that you enjoy about sex?” Hyunjin questioned. “Even foreplay?”

“I do enjoy it. It’s just…” you fidgeted, “It feels like the other person has more sex with me than I do with them. I’ve always been so busy forcing myself to finish that it didn’t leave any room to… explore. Does that make sense?” You suddenly chuckled to yourself, remembering who you were talking to and what he did for a living. “I’m sure this sounds silly to you.”

“Not at all. Unless I work on projects like this, nine out of ten times it’s just mediocre sex. No one’s having a pleasure seizure,” he responded, somewhat jaded. “That transfers to real life, too.”

“How so?”

“A lot of people want to have sex with me because they think I’m this god of oral or something…”

“I mean… Aren’t you?”

“If you portray a murderer on TV, does it mean you killed someone?”

“Are you saying you’re faking it?”

“No, I’m saying they want to have sex with Sam,” he exhaled through his nose. “Not me.”

And when the always-in-the-mood, overly enthused persona didn’t match the real thing…

You thought about how empty it must feel for these actors after some time. Of course it would be mediocre in real life, too. A neverending parade of people. Different bodies, different tastes. Touch everywhere, intimacy nowhere. No getting used to, no habits formed. It was nothing short of being a forever beginner in a language.

Just when you were about to grasp the basics, the grammar would change.

“What did you mean by projects like this?” you attempted to disperse the suddenly thickened air.

“Drea’s sex scenes have a certain choreography to them, but she prefers freeform. It’s more natural and makes for actually pleasurable sex for once,” he answered rather professionally, then continued with his mini case study on you. “Then what about the kind of porn you watch? Anything specific there?”

“It’s criminally vanilla, I’m afraid,” you sneered.

“Well, do you watch me?”

He fucking knew you did, and you'd had a little enough of his relentless teasing. You downed your entire glass in one go for some liquid courage and stared right into his eyes, smirking in the exact same way that he’d been doing the entire night.

“Yes, I do.”

“Do you have a favorite?”

“The one in the club.”

“What about it?”

“It gets me super horny in two minutes and makes me cum in four.”

He was enjoying the shift in gear a bit too much. What was that thing again? Drunk words and sober thoughts and whatnot…

“You have great taste,” he nodded, excessively satisfied. “I mean, obviously, since you’re watching me.”

You laughed in unison. You didn’t know exactly why, but it was at that moment that something seemed to have changed in the air. No one was touching you, but you still felt something soft on your skin. Like you were being caressed.

“How about you?” you turned the mic to him. “Is the kind of porn you do any indication of what you watch?”

“Yes. And no.”

Then he started reciting a laundry list of porn tropes, and it took everything in your willpower to keep a straight face. It was as libertine as he was. Gangbangs, partner swaps, literally anything public…

You were pretty sure smoke was coming out of your ears when he finished.

“Shame on you,” you playfully faked a scandalized gasp. “Would thy quaint lady still feel like a lady if you fucked her in an alley, Playboy?”

“Of course she would because it has nothing to do with location,” he tapped his nails on his glass. “I can still make you feel like the queen of the world even when you dance on my lap at a strip club.”

He said you, and all of a sudden, your imagination started rendering multiple mental images again, this time in 16K, and unfortunately for you, they were a lot more brain-frying.

“See, the art of disrespect demands the utmost respect,” he scooted to the edge of his seat and leaned into the table. “When that meets with the right person touching you just the right way, you’d be surprised what kind of filth you would suddenly crave them to do to you.”

He started to slide his hand towards yours ever so slowly, like a serpent slithering towards its prey in pitch black darkness. Your heart was beating louder in your throat with every inch he was closing between his skin and yours.

“Consent is hot…” his fingers hovered over your hand, close enough for you to feel his warmth on you. His gaze clung to yours like he wanted to suffocate you just with a stare, his voice waning into a whisper the loudest temptation in this bustling bar. “...but desperation is hotter.”

You jumped in your place when a passing waiter crashed several plates right next to you. There was no way you could prove it, but you just fucking knew that accident was the result of the deadly heatwave exuding from your table.

“Tell you what,” Hyunjin refused to lean back into his seat even though the moment was gone. “Saying yes to this will be the best decision you will ever make. You will thank me later.”

“Are you…” you smiled through your furrowed brows, “trying to make a bet with me?”

“If you wish to call it that,” he winked, “but you might wanna make sure you’re ready to lose.”

After you finished your drinks, Hyunjin asked for the check, and you both stepped into the chilly night outside. He hailed the approaching cab, then opened the door for you, needlessly gentlemanly as if he was about to see you off after an actual date.

“I had a great time tonight,” he gallantly kissed your hand. “I hope our talk will help make your decision.”

“Well, it certainly made me reevaluate things,” you responded truthfully.

“Sorry, I meant, will you call Jisung yourself to accept the role, or should I make the call for you?”

You involuntarily laughed at his cocky antics, relaxed way too much with the wine coursing in your bloodstream. “I’ll think about it.”

The door of the cab was still open. You weren’t getting in. He wasn’t moving. All you did was just look at each other, nailed to your places. You both lost the unofficial staring contest when your eyes simultaneously darted to each other’s mouths. His lips looked a lot fuller from this up close. A lot more kissable. A lot more sinful, more so because you knew exactly what he was capable of doing with them. That electric current seemed to have come back around, this time pulling you towards one another at a beguilingly slow pace.

“You know what I’m known for,” he finally broke the silence, “but you’re gonna have to come be my on-camera girlfriend to get it.”

“That sounds like blackmail.”

“It’s only blackmail if there is nothing in it for you, and I’m offering to change your life.” He put one arm on top of the open taxi door and leaned in. “And after tonight, I think you also agree we have fucking explosive chemistry.”

His eyes returned to your lips again, just the sight of them making him lick his own in anticipation. He was getting closer, and you were letting him. You weren’t even remotely drunk to be making stupid mistakes, but when he came close enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath on your skin, you wanted to be as stupid as you could ever be.

You fucking craved it.

“Say yes,” he softly whispered against your lips. “Please say yes to me.”

You smiled, but didn’t answer.

“Good night, Playboy,” you whispered back.

And the almost audible groan he let out when you pulled back was everything.

As Hyunjin watched the yellow vehicle disappear into the distance, his hands shoved in his pockets, his heart was racing. He rolled your entire conversation all the way to the beginning in his mind and replayed his favorite moments, zooming in on the subtleties—your eyes, your smile, the way your finger twitched when you were nervous, and how your sweet spot seemed to be three glasses of rosé. No more, no less, just right for unfiltered candor. A part of him really wished he could only see you as just another job, but unfortunately for him, you weren’t.

You were something else.

❥ Reblog & drop your feedback to get cast in arthouse porn with him.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

I'm almost positive fanatics of Team Bondi have it out for this dude, but here's the million-dollar question: Are you sure you have the full context? 🤔

Word on the street is I have to have at least one (1) Hyunjin project open at any given time otherwise I die, so welcome back to the saga of "Petite Mort Proudly Presents". I'm very nervous to be returning to this universe, but I also can't help the excitement. It kinda feels like... coming home?

If you wish to tag along to see whether Hyunjin's red flag ass is at all redeemable, the story taglist is open. Looking forward to hearing what you think of him! ^^

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