#Money Shot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theplumsoldier · 9 months

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money shot

summary: when recruiting you, pedro didn't realize he would get jealous from seeing other men fuck you, so he decides to pull your jobs, now only offering you solo scenes. you (dumb and dubious) ask why.

pairing: porn director!pedro pascal x reader

warnings: 18+: p in v sex, oral sex (female receiving), vulgar language, pet names, dirty talk, lil self-doubt

word count: 2,9k

˗ˏˋ inspo ´ˎ˗ & @cannolighost for the idea (hope i did it justice babe!!;3)

When the man who approached you, talking about "star quality", handed you his business card, you glowered up at him. "Porn?"

He frowned and surprised you as his hands waved around in such animated gestures, which merely added to his charismatic demeanor. It also made the muscles in his tan arms protrude from his Versace silk shirt. "I prefer the term 'adult film director'."

Glaring at him with squinted eyes, you looked back at the card. Bubble productions. You snorted.

You had done this kind of work before. Amateur style, of course. With your old boyfriend, actually. At one point, he had convinced you to make a little home video, just for the two of you. You enjoyed the way you looked on the camera, which made it a whole lot easier for him to persuade you into letting him upload it. The two of you ended up filming yourselves regularly and sharing it online—and it gained a lot of attraction, too.

Now it had been a couple of months since your break-up, and frankly, you missed it. Not exactly the relationship itself, but feeling sexy, feeling admired, and worshipped by random people online. You had thought about it before, doing porn at a whole other level, but had dismissed the thought as quickly as it merely reminded you of him. The cheating bastard.

This time, with this man asking you to be "his new star", it was no different.

As you gave him your best smile, he thought he had reeled you in, but you then you kindly told him to "fuck off" and spun on your heel.

It wasn't until a few of days later, when you were scrolling through your feed and found a picture of your ex with a girl, that the thought occurred to you again.

You convinced yourself that it wasn't to make him jealous, simply for your own good, to give this thing a shot and do something fun for yourself. That same day you rummaged through your purse, certain you had shoved the business card away as opposed to throwing it into the trash, and sure enough—your eyes gleamed with a certain thrill as you dialed the number.

Of course, you couldn't just accept the offer right away. You needed to know what kind of thing you were getting yourself into, set some boundaries if you were to do this, and so you asked Pedro to meet you for a couple of drinks.

Pedro smooth-talks you all night and reveals what he's been thinking. Truth be told, you didn't have a lot of expectations, but he made his business sound just glamorous and the money was not too bad either.

He ensures you that you would be able to add input, requests, and such, and insisted that "it was all up to you". You told him that if you were to do this, you wanted to be able to turn down anything, anyone, no questions asked and he did not hesitate to agree.

At some point, you excused yourself and disappeared into the bathroom. While feeling the soft alcoholic buzz enveloping your body, you felt his eyes on you and naturally became aware of the sway in your hips.

Pedro was certainly not bad-looking. With his brown hair, caramel eyes, and honey-dipped skin just begging to be licked, you began wondering if he himself had starred in any productions. You certainly would not object to a bite of him. While his charm had its wanted effect on you, you convinced yourself it was simply his eccentric persona, and not something directed specifically at you.

This charm he wields just so appears to comfort you, and welcome you to join his alluring lifestyle that it made you feel warm and fuzzy. It might be the alcohol, but he spoke with such passion, an intensity that it compelled you to take his hand and dive headfirst into his world.

Then came the dour reminder of your ex-boyfriend. He had been the one to put all these thoughts into your head in the first place, so you wondered what he would think. Would he reach out to you again? Would he be jealous? Or would he perhaps just think you for a slut?

A part of you wanted to provoke something inside of him—might be jealousy or even anger, a little possessiveness, just the right amount of toxic.

No.

This was not about him. It's about you.

With that inaudible dialogue with the bathroom mirror, you finally returned to Pedro. His skin was dewy from the heat and alcohol, and his enormous hand (which made the glass seem miniatures comparison) put his drink back down. He cocked an eyebrow as if quizzing you.

"I'm in."

The first day on the job was fantastic. There was time for the crew to mingle, the actors got to know each other a bit and you wrapped up with a nice cumshot on your tits. It was fun. You immediately felt that Bubble Productions were a safe space. The crew was focused on making the actors feel hyped up and confident, as you did your thing.

You figured it was quite normal to see a few boners here and there amongst the set crew, but you couldn't help but notice the tent in Pedro's pants as he directed from his chair. There was a point where he became unusually quiet, which made you think something was not to his liking. But as the cameramen flocked and closed in on you, you figured he was just concentrating on the money shot.

From then on, you found yourself with just three days of work in a week, trying different things with both guys and girls.

A couple of films later you began realizing Pedro had decided to take things down another road. Lately, he had handpicked you for several solo shoots, and you began pondering whether you did something wrong while performing with other people. While you enjoyed having to focus on just yourself, as well as being the center of attention (more specifically the center of Pedro's attention) you couldn't help but wonder.

Had someone complained about you? Did the audience not like you as much as they did in the beginning?

It prompted you to stay behind one time after the remains of the crew had left for the day, wanting nothing but to please the man with the vision.

It was the first time you had been alone with Pedro since that night at the bar and as you approached him with nothing to cover your figure except a dainty pink silk robe, he was ready to renounce every bit of professionalism left in him to take you right there, on the setup of fluffy pillows, wanting to see you teary-eyed as he fucked you into the Love-a-Lot Care Bear.

When you asked him if the audience did not like you, he immediately assured you: "they adore you!"

It should have lifted a weight off of your shoulders, but it did not—you were convinced something was wrong.

So you asked him if anyone had expressed aversion to working with you and Pedro realized he was the reason for your sudden self-consciousness.

It made him feel bad, for cutting your gigs down to a minimum and only offering you solo performances had been a very conscious choice. The jealousy brewing inside of him as he watched you do the job he had given you—he knew it was unprofessional of him but when the sin turned to downright anger, he just had to do something—what kind of director would he be to fire men for doing their job?

"Baby, everybody loves you! It's just—the audience doesn't wanna see a pretty girl like yourself bein' ruined, they want you all to themselves! Your solo's been a hit—"

You could see his lips move around the words, but you zoned out for a second. Of course, the audience wants to see you being ruined by filthy men, you thought, and once again, the thought that Pedro wanted you became dominant.

Did he want you all to himself?

"The audience..."

"Yeah!"

You frowned at him. "So this has nothing to do with what you want?"

Shit.

You saw right through him. He had hoped you were just pretty and dumb—that would have made his case a lot easier.

He gave lying a shot. "What? No!"

Pedro hoped you didn't notice that his voice pitched an octave. It was too obvious.

Really, you thought it was cute how flustered he got. For a man directing adult films, you would never have guessed he would find trouble flirting.

You put on a pout and sighed heavily, drawing your hand up his chest to toy with the gold chain framing his thick neck.

"S'a shame. Had kinda hoped you made me do all those, 'cause you were jealous," mused you, feeling confident as you leaned closer and twirled the hair at the nape of his neck.

His tongue danced along the line of his bottom lip as his eyes trailed down to where your chest revealed itself beneath the robe.

"Jealous, huh?"

You nodded, pulling back to tilt his chin up so that you caught his eyes. It seemed as if though that had darkened, his pupils had dilated and you felt his cock had grown too.

"Wanted to know 'f it was 'cause you wanted me all to yourself."

The coy smirk grew. "That somethin' ya want?"

"Dont know yet," you shrugged.

Pedro closed the space between you.

"Lemme help you find out."

His lips were crashing against yours the next second, rough and passionate, hungry and needy.

You moaned into his mouth as you felt him slip down the robe and as it pooled at your feet, you were about to trip backwards. He didn't let you and in a swift movement, he had your legs wrapped around him.

The feeling of his restrained member made you all the more excited, and as he maneuvered you over to the set you had been coming on a little earlier, you keenly pulled him with you, eager to finally have him.

You couldn't shake the thought of him limiting your scenes. Had it been anyone else, who had done it out of personal interest, you would have been furious.

Pedro had noticed the way your moans had changed recently. When you played with yourself, made yourself come, your cries had become much more authentic, less of a performer, more of an aroused insatiable woman. He couldn't help but strive to make you sing for him, make you writhe, and make you beg for him to stop while simultaneously keeping his hand in place because you would fucking kill him if he dared cease.

He didn't want those pornographic sounds you offered the mic, he wanted those greedy moans to tear through your throat as orgasm after orgasm ripped from your body.

The kisses are wet with tongues and teeth clashing, but it doesn't matter because as the pad of his index runs through your slit, every thought disintegrates in your mind and your brain becomes mush.

"So sensitive for me, baby. Pussy sore from working so hard for me?"

"Hmpff..." you mewled, acrylics clawing at his back as you stuffed your head into the crook of his neck.

"Ya done so good for me, baby—you gonna lemme take care of ya, hm?"

You whined as Pedro's finger delved into you, the curious tip exploring and prodding at your walls. The combination of being touched by someone you wanted so badly as well as his significantly girthier finger made you gasp in a lower pitch, unlike that factitious moan his so-called "stars" had elicited from you.

It made him rock hard, hearing that genuine sound sputtering from your lips like you couldn't contain it.

He drew your slick through your folds, steadying your hips with his enormous hands as you began to squirm.

"Lie still, pretty baby," Pedro tsked, a devious smirk complimenting his face, and before you could protest he lapped his tongue through the wetness that had pooled between your legs.

Another moan, this untamed and frustrated, a whimper turning into a growl while your hips bucked upward, aiming to catch his mouth completely.

But he insisted—he was going to show you just how devoted he was to making you feel good, better than you did yourself. Pedro wanted you to know he had been schooling himself with those films of you, taking notes to make sure he knew exactly what you liked, and even what you did not know you liked yet.

You cursed when he inserted two fingers. Pedro's tongue occupied your swollen clit in such a way that it left you wanting more of him.

"Pedro," you moaned but as he hooked you with a third finger, curling them against your spongy walls, carving you perfectly for his cock, your pleads were punched out into cries.

"'S fuckin' tight, baby—who'd a thought such a little slut whorin' her body out would 'ave such a tight little hole?"

Under different circumstances, you would have punched the man calling you a slut in his teeth, but this, as Pedro claimed you, you found yourself desperate for the degrading behavior.

He pulled an orgasm from you before he allowed himself the pleasure of filling you with his cock, and as his member sprung free, you had to stop yourself from drooling.

A weeping head plastered on top of his thick, veiny girth, forged to perfectly destroy any woman.

It was almost sad to hide such a wonder from the cameras.

Pedro chuckled, cooking his brow, "impressed yet?"

Just to fuck with him, you put on an indifferent demeanor and turned on your stomach, pushing a pillow down under your stomach. He certainly didn't require an ego boost.

"I'll have to get back to you on that."

His hands felt so perfectly hot on your hips when he dragged your ass closer to him, propping you on your knees and slotting himself by your entrance.

You expected him to ram straight up into you and wanted to fucking cry when he merely dragged his mushroom head along your folds, collecting your slick in a fine mixture with his precum.

"Pedro," you whined in a bated breath. "Fuck me already—"

And there it was the merciless fucking. He bottomed out only to smash back into you, heavy balls slapping against your cunt with every thrust.

The sudden movement made your knees buckle beneath you and you were back on your stomach.

The new position did not seem to face Pedro as he continued to plunge into you from behind. If anything it allowed you to feel him even deeper, a bulge hitting the deepest spot possible making you sob into the pink Care Bear.

"Mmpff—fuck, fuck, fuck—"

Pedro caught your wrists in a harsh grasp, holding them steady on the small of your back to stop you from clawing desperately at him.

"'S the matter, baby? Didn't my guys fill ya up this good, huh?" It came out like a growl and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he fucked you at a relentless pace.

You couldn't help but love the way he called his pornstars his "guys" like he was some creep who had taken you prisoner, the sole purpose of your kidnapping being that you should be fucked day-in-day-out by him and all his ravenous men.

Pedro grasping at the roots of your hair, forcing you to bend back just enough for him to see your fucked-out expression, pulled you from your fantasy.

"Asked you a question, baby."

For the first time, the pet name sounded less affectionate; way too menacing to be loving as the cruel grip on your hair loosened, only to force your face down into the mattress.

"No, no, no!" you cried, barely able to form a proper sentence between his ruthless thrusts. "Ff-uck! Never felt this good!"

Pedro chuckled and abandoned his hold on you, his arm snaking under your body to skillfully locate your clit, deft fingers beginning a dance. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, heating up as you neared your release.

Pedro emitted a sound, something between a growl and a moan, as he felt your pussy clench so nicely around his cock. Feeling your cunt choking his cock, he gave you one command in that cocksure tone.

Fucking you through yours, he slipped into his orgasm as you practically squeezed it out of him. His brutal pace faltered only when he pulled out and as you mourned the loss in your throbbing cunt, you hastily rolled to greet him with your tongue rolled out for him to paint.

His jaw hang ajar, eyes dazed as he watched you hungrily await his seed. With a few more pumps Pedro coated your face in hot velvety strings.

He leans back on his haunches, admiring his masterpiece for a minute or so. He wanted to take a picture of you so badly. If Pedro asked, you would probably say "yes", but there was something about this moment—this was your moment, something just for the two of you.

Pedro muttered something to himself, something you didn't quite catch between your frenzied phase and the buzzing in your ears.

"Huh?" you hummed, looking so not innocent batting your come-coated lashes at him.

His large hand catches your jaw in such an affectionate manner it made your heart flutter for the umpteenth time. Just then, for a second or two, Pedro looked as if he was about to say three very specific words. He didn't.

Instead, he shook his head and cupped your sticky cheek as he planted an uncharacteristically soft kiss on your forehead, before moving away — to get towels for the mess he had made (you were equally responsible) — murmuring with a small chuckle, "ya gonna fuckin' ruin me, baby."

#pedro pascal #theplumsoldier #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal au #pedro pascal characters #pedrostories #money shot

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