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「𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕」 · masterlist

SUMMARY ➥ Being a professional-grade porn producer is not your typical nine-to-five, but you like it — the pay is great, the hours are flexible, and it's an intriguing conversation starter. However, things get more than complicated when your infatuation with one of your performers turns into something it shouldn't be.

This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only.

※ Bang Chan x afab reader — Pornstar AU, coworkers to lovers, mutual pining, angst, slowburn, smut.

※ Reader discretion advised — Adult themes, graphic depictions of porn and various porn tropes, flawed characters overall, alcohol & recreational drug use, confidence/intimacy issues, heavy mutual fantasizing, heavy (almost toxic) jealousy, strong language, explicit sexual content.

RELEASED WORK ➥ Scene I ➥ Scene II ➥ Scene III

「© 2023, exxxtraoddinary · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

I'm dead and screaming in everything unholy. I need more

「𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚏𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕」 · scene ii

❝𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝.❞

WC: 5.6k (24 min. avg. reading time)

⚠ — Depiction of a porn video (orgasm denial, dacryphilia, throat fucking), livestreaming sex, sexual tension (see masterlist for more).

★ Please see my pinned before asking to be tagged. || @hanjingin @jetblackbelle @biribarabiribbaem @cutiespaghetti @inniescandy-01 @straywrds @chlodavids @kileidoscope @seosalad @idkluvutellme @tenshimara @skzworldx @svintsandghosts @sunshitting

※ This work of fiction is intended for 18+ audiences only.

The first rule of a successful scenario: It turns you on? Then it will most likely turn on other people. Well, at least like-minded ones. 

If Chris had pre-shoot rituals, so did you while writing. It had to be during nighttime. It had to be in an immersive atmosphere with some sultry R&B slow jams in the background. It had to be with a decent glass of wine and a dildo within arm’s reach just in case.

There you were about to write again, but the usual faceless protagonist of your fantasies was nowhere to be found. A very unwelcome player change had occurred in that department.

Ever since you walked in on him in his waiting room, you just couldn’t stop picturing Chris, and it was nothing but a nuisance. Every time you closed your eyes, he was just there. An uninvited guest behind your eyelids tormenting you with the lascivious image of his ridiculously gorgeous figure, delicious moans induced by gratification filling your ears, forcing you to wonder what he would taste like in your mouth. 

What?

It was a bit different from what he did on camera, though. He seemed utterly entranced then, completely lost in the realm of pleasure without any idea he was being watched. Sure, you only caught a glimpse of it for the briefest moment, but that moment dragged on to become minutes in your mind. It most certainly wasn’t a performance he was putting on.

You should have asked him what he was touching himself to.

While you were getting carried away in your thoughts, you were suddenly hit with an epiphany. You literally had Chris at your disposal to act out your fantasies, and maybe you could abuse that to your advantage a little bit. You were the producer, weren’t you? You could cast whoever the fuck you goddamn wanted, and it wasn’t like Jisung would say no to your picks.

You took a huge gulp from your sauvignon blanc and started typing.

𝚄𝚗𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚍 𝙾𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚎𝚛 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚞𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚋𝚎𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚎. 𝙸𝚗 𝚊 𝚙𝚞𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚛, 𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚟𝚊𝚌𝚢. 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎, 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚎𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚙 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗.

The paragraphs following the synopsis continued with borderline wholesome stuff. How one innocent touch obliterated him, how he felt the urgent need to relieve himself at that very moment due to how heavily he was simping, fantasizing about kissing her, swooning over the trail of fragrance she left behind in her wind…

But once you got to depicting the final sex scene, it started to descend into insanity.

The pair losing themselves in sheer passion, worshipping to the point of trance, bite marks and scratches on the back as lasting tangible proofs of desire and ownership, tugs at hair, tugs at lips, heavy breathing, moaning, hissing in delight, commanding, rewarding, punishing, edging and edging and edging and edging just to overstimulate until the brink of blacking out.

Admit it.

“Wake me up like that, too,” you whispered out loud while fucking yourself hard in your chair with your eyes shut tight, “Please me. Make me squirt on your face.”

Admit it.

The images behind your eyelids were just so damn lucid. There he was, slowly coming closer to your bed in the middle of the night with an almost mocking smile on his stupidly beautiful features. He knew it was a matter of time before he nuked your entire existence between your legs. He knew you were going to go insane the more he prolonged his sweet torture. He was getting the sickest pleasure out of tantalizing you.

Admit it.

“God, I can’t fucking stand how much I want you!”

You spit on your fingers and started rubbing yourself fervently to accompany the intense sensation of fullness you felt inside, and the second you imagined it was Chris’ lips around your clit sucking on you, you came so hard that your brain went numb for a second there. You felt a headache coming on shortly after.

When your wits clicked back, however, the warmth of the afterglow replaced itself with a confounding dilemma.

The things you had fantasized about just now… Was that a byproduct of being exposed to so much hardcore stuff at work, or had you always been like this?

Or was that all exclusively because of Chris?

Sometimes it was a funny coincidence when things that only lived in your imagination turned out to be facts. You could pretend you somehow manifested them into reality, but when the said reality also meant someone’s frustration…

It could be as pleasurable as stumbling upon a free porn channel that only broadcast your sickest fantasies.

It was so obvious you were feeling some type of way every time you saw Chris, usually getting angry, but also flustered at times no matter how much you tried to veil it. What you didn’t know, however, was how amusing he found it. He would go as far as calling it cute. His number one pastime activity had become relentlessly teasing you for his personal entertainment, be it purposefully getting on your nerves with his insufferable insolence or randomly saying something so fucking brazen that you would feel the need to remove yourself from the premises in order not to combust.

But the best part was when you were present to monitor the scenes he was shooting.

At first, he thought it was just a coincidence that you left the set right in the middle of a scene, and he was actually annoyed that you were gone. Why would you leave? What could you be possibly doing that was so important? Did you not enjoy god-tier porn by any chance? Very much free for that matter? Did you even know how much he charged his subscribers? 

Then he started observing to get to the bottom of things.

It happened once. Then twice. Then thrice. He eventually noticed the pattern. 

It was always during the oral scenes that you were leaving. He would drag on the prelude on purpose to catch an accidental glimpse of you just to find you clearly hot and bothered, to the point of sweating sometimes. Mere seconds after a cunnilingus scene started, he always heard the door closing in the distance, and when the scene ended you wouldn’t be there.

Interesting. Very interesting indeed.

This was all Chris could think about in the shower of the company gym. You were allegedly so irked by him, but was it at all possible that you were confusing your feelings with something else? Maybe you just didn’t want to admit how you really felt about him.

You’re so damn sassy, but I so wanna know how you feel inside.

Maybe you had a thing for oral specifically. Did you want him to do that to you? Because he would have no problem with it, and it would be the best you ever had. He would give you the most back-arching toe-curling orgasm of your life, and you would keep coming back for more. He would feign refusal at first just to tease you. What would you give him in return? Were you willing to beg, for example? Were you able to follow instructions well? Could you cum on cue? 

Alright, fine, but just this once, okay? 

That was a blatant lie, of course. You were going to ask him again, beat around the bush as long as you possibly could, but once you properly snapped and cast all your embarrassment aside, he would eventually give you what you wanted. Deep down you also knew he would give it to you, and give it to you good.

Weren’t you the one writing the instructions for how he should fuck people on camera? Didn’t that technically mean he was already working to please you? Was that really far-fetched to assume these were the things you liked in bed? 

That was why you insisted on including elaborate oral scenes every single time, wasn’t it?

I want to know what you sound like when you cum. You don’t strike me as a pillow princess at all.

He palmed himself in a firmer grip under the warm water trickling down his body, imagining this was how tight you would feel around him. Were you hiding some sick cravings under your oversized hoodies? Were you the type to get sensationally nasty when provoked by the right person? He could provoke you back just fine because the things you were making him thirst after were unspeakable.

Just ask. Why aren’t you asking? Ask me to stay behind. Spread your legs on my makeup table and ask me to bury my face into your cunt. Why don’t you want me? Why aren’t you asking?!!

Why did you keep leaving? What were you doing when you were gone? You were imagining him, weren’t you? You wanted him to eat your pussy. You wanted him to finger you until your eyes rolled back. You wanted him to make you cum like that.

“Oh, fucking…”

He could actually feel the pressure of his cum squirting out of him. The strings of white fluid completely wasted by not being in your mouth dissolved under the shower water instead, and Chris imagined he was shooting his entire load inside you the entire time. He just knew you sounded insanely erotic when you moaned. When you begged. When you asked for seconds right away without even giving him a minute to properly recuperate.

I would obsess over feeding your insatiability so bad, you would be the death of me.

When he finally came to his senses and got out of the shower, he realized that he was thirty fucking minutes late to his meeting with you.

“Sorry!” he barged into your office in a hurry without giving you a chance to snap, “Sparring session ran late.”

“SPARRI— The fuck, you box?” you immediately toned yourself down and looked at him in confusion, “Didn’t take you for a violent guy, really.”

“You clearly haven’t seen my discipline content,” he winked at you while settling on the armchair in front of your desk, “You should come down to the gym downstairs more often.”

“No thanks, I’m doing just fine with my couch potato lifestyle.”

“Who’s telling you to work out?” he continued shamelessly while spreading his legs a bit too wide apart, “I meant to come watch me. I’m there on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. 10 AM.”

You could feel the burn in your cheeks getting a bit intense. You cleared your throat and started rummaging through your desk drawer for a script that you knew wasn’t there.

“Stop it with the flirting, Bang.”

“But I’m not.”

“Good.”

“Or am I?”

He knew he was a total motherfucking flirt. While he kept giggling, you took a deep breath to calm the urge to slap the smugness off his face and put a folder in front of him.

“If you’re done with your ego jerk off, let’s discuss your next project.”

“Oh, I’m never done with jerking off, but please continue.”

After Chris left your office, leaving a trail of his oudy cologne behind for that matter, the only thing you could think about for the rest of your Wednesday was his workout schedule. Why did he tell you to come watch him exactly? There had to be an ulterior motive, right? Nothing this guy ever said was for the fuck of it. 

Your Thursday was consumed with the very same questioning. Why did he keep doing that? Why did he keep throwing a match on a tank of gasoline and walked away while whistling cheery tunes?

Just what the fuck did he want from you?!

You totally let your curiosity get the best of you, and on Friday at 10:05 AM, you were hiding in some secluded corner of the gym to spot Chris somewhere. When he finally appeared, it was around 10:15 AM.

“Late everywhere I see,” you scoffed to yourself.

He greeted his personal trainer with a handshake and a hug, and after listening to his instructions, he started his routine with some warm up. By the time he got to doing pushups, he was so sweltered that he quickly got rid of his black t-shirt and threw it to the side, completely exposing the sheen of sweat covering his spectacular physique.

You throbbed between your legs.

You had seen this guy completely naked before, then what the fuck was up with this?

When he started with his jabs and crosses and hooks, loudly grunting while punching the shit out of that sandbag, it stirred something in you. You had never seen him angry before. He wasn’t physically mad per se, but he still carried all the telltale signs of it. Furrowed brows, clenched jaw, muscles tensed, nostrils flared, and unfortunately for you, you were feeling some of your repressed urges growing stronger inside you.

“One, two, jab. One, two, cross. One, two, hook. That’s my man, you’re on fucking fire today!”

The change in his expression was almost imperceptible because it was so subtle, but you saw it. The faintest of smiles through his panting. He liked hearing the compliment. Listening to all the instructions his trainer bombarded him with and Chris following everything to perfection reminded you of something he casually squeezed in his words in the passing.

Discipline, huh?

You snuck out through the emergency exit and dashed back to your office, logging into Chris’ page on your phone as you were running. You slammed your door close and threw yourself on your couch to frantically search for the video he was talking about.

“Filter by category. BDSM. Yes.”

He only had one video with this label titled Imperatives: The Art of Subtle Dominance. When you pressed play, you noticed the vibe of the video was quite different than his usual content. The lighting was dramatic and the resolution was so crisp, indicating this was shot with a professional-grade camera. With multiple takes for that matter because there were even angle changes along the way.

The camera showed someone walking into a bedroom with a high ceiling and marble floors, and the slow steps were echoing in the room. The little details were captured with macro shots. The Rolex around a wrist, the Givenchy belt and the matching cufflinks on a black shirt that peeked under a blazer, the thick silver chain around the neck… The man in the stunning jet black suit stood tall in front of a mahogany table, put three cubes of ice inside a tasteful whiskey glass, and soaked them with the amber liquid pouring out of a Macallan bottle like a gentle waterfall. It was only when he brought the glass to his lips that the frame showed this gorgeous beast was indeed Chris. He was looking out the window into the night with pensive eyes.

A knock was heard on a thick wooden door and he answered without turning around.

“Come in.”

A woman entered the room, and she was only in the frame from the shoulder down. Her equally slow steps reverberated throughout the walls in a higher pitch courtesy of the heels she was wearing. Chris sat down on a black leather armchair with his legs spread wide, head tilted to the side, and two fingers of his idle hand pressed on his temple. He watched the woman walk to the middle of the room and stop, then took a deep breath as he eyed her from head to toe.

“Approach.”

The woman started walking again. Her final destination was right in front of him this time. Chris looked up at her, tilted his head to the other side, then pointed at his lap with his eyes.

“Sit.”

She climbed on the armchair, bent her knees on either side, and properly straddled him. Chris took another sip from his amber drink and fixated his gaze on her chest.

“Strip.”

She slowly unbuttoned the white shirt she was wearing on top of her pencil skirt. Her long, dark purple nails on her delicate fingers came into the frame. She discarded her shirt to the side, exposing her upper torso to him fully. Chris brushed the skin right between her breasts with two of his fingers.

“Kiss.”

The camera panned down to an angle that only showed them kissing. Just their lips and tongues gliding on each other. When Chris stopped kissing her, her nipples had become rock hard. He chugged his remaining drink first. Then he grabbed one of the ice cubes in his glass, dragged it on her pebbled skin, and finally shoved it in her mouth to give her something to suck on while he was making out with her dripping nipples. A little too obscenely with wet smacks of his lips. He suddenly got up while wrapping her legs around his waist and laid her down on the edge of the bed. 

The strength this guy possessed was just… insane.

“Remove.”

She pulled her skirt up to her waist and took off her black lace lingerie. Chris kneeled in front of her and started ghosting his hands around her thighs. He suddenly grabbed her wrist when she tried to touch herself.

“Don’t.”

He slowly released his grip and channeled his attention to his target again. He softly kissed her legs. Her thighs. Her crotch. He gradually worked his way to her glistening pussy.

“Spread.”

She pressed her fingers on her pussy to spread her lips. The camera panned to a closeup again. Her folds were so glossy and she was visibly throbbing. The first time her voice was heard was when Chris started licking her. He was not pleased with it at all, so he raised his voice to get his point across.

“Quiet.”

The slow kitten licks on her turned into dragged out stripes of his tongue from her entrance up to her clit. Her muffled whimpers started quickening, alerting him that she was about to cum.

“Hold.”

He stopped his ministrations until she calmed down a bit, but when he started again, he wasn’t eating her out anymore. He was dining on her, closing his entire mouth on her pussy with his eyes shut, slurping and licking and lapping at her as fast as he could as she tried to move away from him.

“Stop.”

He sucked on his middle and ring fingers and pushed them into her oozing hole, his mouth still at work on her cunt. Quiet sobs were heard in the background. She had started crying for how overwhelmed she was, and Chris was beyond content watching those tears fall down.

“Beg.”

She wasn’t talking. She was probably not allowed to talk. Her sobs got louder instead and she was trying to pull herself back to resist cumming. Please. Too much. Just… Please, let me!!!

Chris looked at her with an absolutely sinister smile on his face and finally showed a shred of mercy.

“Cum.”

With a moan ripping straight from her diaphragm, she arched into his mouth as if somebody shocked her and kept thrashing under him until her climax receded. Her face was never once shown, but it was a no-brainer that she was utterly fucked out.

“Get up.”

He pulled on her wrists to make her sit up. Her shirt was gone, her skirt was pooling around her waist, there was no underwear in sight, but her heels were still on. Disheveled perfected.

“Kneel.”

She sat on her knees while Chris unbuckled his belt and he finally freed his cock. It looked so flushed and hard, and the precum dripping from his slit was absolutely mouthwatering.

“Suck.”

She started blowing him but with nowhere near enough gratification. Shallow sucks, barely taking half of him in her mouth. Chris slithered his hand behind her nape and pushed her face down.

“Choke.”

He groaned when she was able to take as much of him as she could in her mouth. It apparently felt so damn good that he was getting gradually rough with her, tangling his fingers in her hair and pulling it back, and eventually started fucking her throat. His breathing was turning labored as his moans climbed louder. He threw his head back, closed his eyes, and started downright pounding her mouth.

“Moan!”

She basically screamed on her cock, and Chris came with such animalistically guttural moans that it was barely discernible whether he was in pain or drowning in ecstasy. When he was able to ride the waves of his pleasure back to the shore, he gave his very last command.

“Swallow.”

She gulped down everything in her mouth, even swiped her thumb at the corner of her mouth to collect the singular drop of cum trickling down, and licked it clean. Chris watched her with a very content smile on his face, albeit with squinted eyes, and kissed the crown of her head before he left the room.

“Good girl.”

When the video finished, you felt properly fucked out, and you wondered why Chris didn’t include this particular video in his portfolio when he applied. Based on what he insinuated, you sort of expected this video to get violent in a common BDSM fashion. It wasn’t violent in that sense, but it was violent nevertheless. Intense. Vehement. Quietly frantic. This was the rawest you had ever seen him. That complete command he had on someone, objectifying them solely to cater to his cravings, and the way they simply obeyed… They obeyed because they wanted the reward. They obeyed because they wanted the praise. They obeyed because they wanted to hear those two words fall from his lips.

Good girl.

Just hypothetically, how far would Chris be willing to go just to hear he was being good?

“DAMMIT!!!”

You stopped dead in your tracks in the hallway when you heard Chris roaring in the distance. You took a couple of steps back and knocked on the waiting room door.

“It’s me. You’re not getting in the zone, are you? Can I come in?”

“Yeah, whatever.”

He was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, and he seemed pretty agitated for some reason. You approached him with caution as if you were approaching a caged animal.

“You okay? What’s going on?”

He sharply inhaled through his nose, indicative of how annoyed he was. He pressed his palms to his eyes and then finally looked up at you.

“I have a fucking problem.”

“What is it?”

“It’s the damn diet change my trainer put me on!” the veins on his temple popped as he yelled, “I can’t seem to sustain… I can’t…”

You were trying so hard not to show how much you were entertained by his apparent misery, but the guy seemed legitimately upset about something. You gave him an encouraging nod to continue, and he eventually spat it out while ruffling his hair in frustration.

“I can’t stay hard for some reason, okay?”

“Oh.”

If there was a moment to ridicule the fuck out of him, this was it, but you were genuinely stuck between laughing your ass off and finding a solution. His poor performance in any department was going to reflect on you and Jisung after all.

“Well, how do you usually control it?”

“I never had to control it before.” 

“So you’re perpetually horny. Gotchu.”

Your attempt to lighten the mood didn’t work at all since Chris was glaring at you with his tongue pressed inside his cheek as if you caused this problem. Then his eyes started traveling on you from head to toe, quite clearly checking you out, and his expression softened a tinge.

“Actually, there is a way I can stay hard.”

“No enhancements,” you curtly refused, “We talked about this.”

“It’s not that.”

He stood up and got closer to you, once again completely unaware of the concept of personal space.

“You can let me look at your pussy.”

“Fucking excuse you?!”

“Come on, no need to be that dramatic. I’m not gonna do anything,” he tilted his head like he was making such a tame request, “I just wanna take a look.”

The goddamn audacity of this guy? Was he not hearing what he was saying?

“Well, to your infinite misfortune, I didn’t douche, your motherfucking highness, so if you’re in dire need of visual stimulation I’ll just call—”

“I don’t want anyone else.”

He stopped you in a hurry by grabbing you by the wrist, and brought his face closer to yours. Under normal circumstances, you would slap a guy into oblivion for doing this, but when it was Chris…

When it was Chris this close to you… This close… Too close…

“Admit it. You’re leaving in the middle of scenes to touch yourself to me, don’t you?” 

You felt like you were being subjected to a pop quiz all of a sudden. You had to lie. You had to lie your ass off, but all your senses could register was his goddamn cologne, and it choked the fuck out of your reasoning.

“Get a goddamn grip, Bang.”

“You’re not denying it.”

Deny. Yes, deny. Say ‘I don’t’. Say ‘Where the fuck did that come from?’. Just say something!!!

“You’re very interesting, you know,” he released his grip and softly brushed your cheek with the back of his fingers, “And you’re actually getting wet as we speak.”

He leaned into you more, and you felt his breathing on your skin as his fingers quietly caressed your neck. Goosebumps were breaking all over your body. You felt completely disarmed, and his mere presence was so overwhelming that you were almost drunk on him.

“I turn you on, don’t I?”

If he uttered that exact sentence from across the room with that fucking smug grin of his, you would be able to retort this easily. But it was hard, so hard to break free of his spell when his tone was weirdly vulnerable, softly whispering facts into your ear, seducing you by just existing, and holding you in a complete chokehold with his feathery touches.

“Because I can smell how wet you are and it’s sexy as fuck,” he lightly pressed his forehead on your temple and stole a long whiff of your scent, “Admit it. You want me, too, don’t you?”

Too as in… As in as well? As in likewise? As in I want you in the first place?

His words alone got you dripping between your legs.

Yes. Yes, you fucking wanted him. You insanely wanted him. Happy now? You wanted to do unspeakable things to him. Heck, you would even let him film you for his personal porn archive on the condition that he would give you a copy, too. And he knew. He fucking knew you wanted him back. He knew you weren’t going to be able to say no if he asked. 

“Permission to have you feel me?”

It was as if you had no willpower anymore. You watched yourself nod. Chris slowly held your hand and pressed it on his crotch. 

He was rock hard under your touch. 

Then he placed one kiss on your ear and dragged it out for so long that you almost came to that. He softly chuckled at the way you shuddered and pulled out a bullet vibrator from his pocket.

“Tell you what, instead of faking a bathroom emergency this time, how about you put this inside while watching me for a change?” 

He held your hand again, placed the purple device in your palm, and closed it.

“I hate it when you keep leaving at the best part,” he kissed your nose and left, leaving you to seethe in the whirlwind of your emotions.

I need to fuck this guy without fucking him, but how?

“Wait, you actually carry a bullet vibrator on you?!” you yelled behind his back in the hallway, but he was already long gone.

You opened your and stared at the bullet for a while, trying to process what the heck just transpired in this room. Somehow your train of thought completely derailed and you were struck with an idea.

A sex toy line. Fleshlights and dildos modeled after your most popular performers.

I need to fuck this guy without fucking him.

“OH MY GOD, JI, WE’RE GONNA BE FUCKING RICH!” you dashed out and bolted towards the editing room.

At the end of that very long day, you and Jisung headed towards the lounge room to kick back over a few much-deserved drinks.

“Shit, I forgot my charger upstairs,” Jisung turned around, “You go ahead. I’ll be right down.”

You thanked all the deities you could think of when you realized the lounge room was empty. You grabbed a beer from the fridge, threw yourself on a beanbag, and started scrolling through your phone to busy yourself until Jisung arrived.

“Hey.”

Chris was standing right by the glass door leaning on his arm. For once, he didn’t look like he was about to blurt something out that would cause you to throw a hissy fit.

“Oh, hey,” you looked up at him, “Problem solved?”

“You know it,” he smiled at you mischievously, “I just wanted to say thank you. For today.”

“I… literally didn’t do anything, but you’re welcome,” you raised your bottle, “Actually, do you want t—?”

“Hey, boss!”

“Hey, Lex.”

Alexis appeared right next to Chris, and you watched her kiss him on the lips with utter bewilderment.

“Ready to go?”

“You go ahead. I’ll be out in a second.”

To say that you were stunned would be a massive understatement. You didn’t really know you felt about what you just witnessed, or how to react to it like a normal person.

“Are you– Are guys… dating?” you asked him with your brows raised.

“Not really. We’re just hanging out.”

“She just kissed you.”

“And?”

And what? What the hell kind of casual greeting was that? How would you even properly respond to that?!

“No reason. I just… Yeah, no reason.”

“Good night, sassy,” he left with a very amused smirk on his face. 

You buried yourself deeper into the beanbag with obvious confusion on your face, replaying everything that happened during the day. You were trying to spot what it was that you missed. How did it go from that electric moment in the waiting room to… to this?

“I’m BACK!” Jisung startled the life out of you with his announcement and grabbed a beer from the bridge for himself, “Do you wanna watch stuff that’s not porn for once?”

You turned on the TV and started going through the entertainment catalog in front of you with somewhat dead eyes.

“Say, do we have an HR policy that says you can’t date coworkers?” you blurted out without thinking, which caught Jisung by surprise.

“Where the fuck did that come from?”

All of a sudden you realized why the heck you were asking this, and thanks to the heavy friendzone you and Jisung had put each other in, you had your reasoning intact to lie this time.

“I uh– I don’t know,” you shrugged, “I was thinking about Anita just now, and if there’s a clause that stipulates—”

“WHERE’S THAT GODDAMN EMPLOYEE HANDBOOK?!”

Jisung immediately bolted to probably trash his office, you inadvertently cackled at his antics. You were too lazy to just get up and leave, so you decided to hang out by yourself until someone kicked you out. The combo of beanbags, beer, and TV wasn’t much different than your home setup anyway.

In the middle of the third episode of some crime show you were watching, your phone went off with a notification ping.

Channing B. is live! Scotty doesn’t know (her place) 🐺

Seeing the name on the screen so unexpectedly shook you a little. You had totally forgotten that people also livestreamed on this platform. 

You were initially going to leave it alone. You really were. You even resisted it for a good, what, half an hour? But your morbid curiosity eventually forced you to cave, and you tapped on the notification ribbon, not knowing what to expect from the vague title.

There was an endless torrent of comments flowing in the chat, occasionally telling him what to do as though he was going to turn around to read them, but mostly in the form of starstruck freakouts.

OMG IT’S ALEXIS SCOTT!!! IT’S SCOTTIEEEEEEE lexi can step on me and id thank her collab of the century right there UPLOAD THIS ON DEMAND I’LL PAY WHATEVER YOU WANT

A high-rise building’s balcony. Chris. Clearly hazed. Fucking the shit out of Alexis against the rails. 

“Beg louder, slut.”

“Please, sir, I need to cum. I’ll do anything!”

As a professional working in the adult entertainment industry, you had seen things way worse than this. Vile things even. You had a high tolerance for obscenity, so watching this didn’t actually warrant feeling this queasy. You had only downed two beers anyway. 

Your mind knew there was absolutely no reason for you to feel this way, but your heart couldn’t help falling to your stomach. 

And you would rather die than admit this out loud.

「© 2023, exxxtraoddinary · No translations, rewrites, or reposts permitted」

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