Fandom-Trollbooth

The scene is almost comical. Sitting in a chair in shorts and a t-shirt with the script binder open, feet propped up on the coffee table as the new drones quietly in the background. Those damned glasses perched on his nose as he tapped the pen in his hand on the arm of the chair idly. Thinking for a moment before scrawling a note in the side for himself, or maybe the director.

You don’t bother him while he’s reading the script, although you want to. You want to crawl up his lap and have him say that phrase about a hundred more times in your ear. Preferably after stripping down and while he was inside you.

There hadn’t been much thought to how that phrase would sound. Any time you had thought about it, you had always teased that it was his character Jack Daniels that would say it. That smooth southern accent, or maybe Ezra with that almost dandified cadence to his voice.

Now with this new role, you knew that thousands of fans were going to practically melt when they hear Pedro deliver this line in his new show. You had heard the collective reaction of the fandom when he had uttered “Take it off. Or I will” during season two. Although you could attest to how hot that phrase was. Especially when he is toying with the edge of your bra and smirking at you. Your clothes came off instantly.

Turning back to the stove, you check the temperature to make sure everything was coming along like it should. If you had it timed right, he should be through the first read through by the time dinner was ready. Letting him take a break and eat, even though he would be done for the night.

You don’t hear him close the binder, set it on the coffee table or get up with a quiet groan. Too busy humming to yourself as you finish up the meal. Barefooted, he’s quiet as he makes his way into the kitchen, making you jump when his arms slide around your waist.

“Come on, baby girl.” You pant at the voice in your ear, several octaves lower just like he likes to use when he is being seductive. “Dinner can wait.”

Flipping off the burner, you shudder when he bites your earlobe. Panties were definitely going to drop when they hear him say that. Yours were already being pulled down your thighs. Thick fingers sliding through your lips to find you slick.

“I knew that would turn you on.” He whispers in your ear, sliding his fingers father back and pushing them inside you easily. He gives a teasing laugh when you tighten around his fingers, working them slower than you want. “You liked when I said baby girl?”

You gasp out a soft cry, pinned against the counter as Pedro finger fucks you, talking into your ear and peppering your skin with kisses. Getting you right to the edge of bliss before pulling his hand away and making you whine at loss of him. “Pedro-”

“You want me to fuck you right here?” He asks, hand squeezing your ass and pulling your cheeks apart. “Or do you want to eat and then go to bed? Hmmmm? Your choice baby girl.”

Damn him. Damn him and using that phrase. You push back against the hard length beneath the shorts, rubbing your ass up against him and smirking to yourself when he groans. “Fuck me now and after dinner.”

He hrumphs at you, muttering to himself and no doubt talking about how you are greedy as he shuffles both of you off to the side, away from the heat of the stove. Thankfully you hear his zipper being lowered and the rustling of clothes behind you. His feet nudge yours apart, widening your stance and you feel his cock slide around your folds. The thick tip of him wet with your slick and pressing against your entrance. “Ready?” He croons teasingly.

“Just fuck me, Pascal.” You demand, impatient to feel him inside you.

“Yes, madam.” He grunts, pushing forward and filling you, making you forget everything but the feeling of him inside you. “So good baby girl.”

He was going to kill you with that phrase. You just know it. Your walls tighten around him as he stretches you out. Making you gasp out as he pulls back, thrusting back into you hard enough to make your hips hit the counter. His hands on your hips holding you steady as he rocks on the balls of his feet. Grunting as he picks up the pace and the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the space.

You moan, panting out sounds every time he drives back into you. The sucking noise of his cock dragging against your walls loud and lewd, his fingers digging into your flesh, gripping and pulling you back against him.

You brace your arms on the counter, rocking back against him as much as you can. His hands slide down to you thighs, lifting them up and raising you to your tiptoes as he groans when you flutter around him, giving a shriek when he drills against that spot that makes you come every time.

“Fuck, baby.” He hisses and rocks into you harder, one hand sliding around your thigh to rub your clit, his body curved around yours as he gives short, hard thrusts up into you. “You’re gonna come for me, right?” He pants against your neck. “You’re gonna be a good girl for me?”

You can’t even answer him, white hot pleasure slamming into you and your cunt clamps down around him, tight and hot as it soaks his cock with your come. The ragged cry you give out screams for air, broken and high pitched.

“Fuck.” He grunts, his pace frantic as his hips stutter. Fucking into you with abandon as he edges closer to his own end. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He moans, driving deep into you and letting out a cry as he comes, rope after rope of his seed painting your walls.

Whining when he pulls out, too early in your mind, you feel him pull your cheeks apart so he can see the come dripping from your fluttering hole, still clenching around nothing in the wake of your orgasm. He pats your ass and you can hear the smirk in his voice, even if you aren’t looking at his face.

“Come on, baby girl.” He tells you, shuffling his shorts and underwear back up. “Let’s clean up and eat. I’m hungry now.”