A collection of one-shots featuring various Pedro Pascal characters. Including: Din Djarin, Javier Peña, Joel Miller, Marcus Acacius, Marcus Pike, Dave York, Javi Gutierrez, Oberyn Martell, Jack "Whiskey" Daniels, and Max Phillips. Most contain expl...
rating: Teen (established relationship, kissing, cuddling, fluff, banter, mentions of sex)
word count: 500+
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You were cozy and warm in bed, blankets pulled up to your shoulders and arms holding you close. Your head was tucked under Marcus' chin, feeling how his chest rose and fell with each breath he took, rubbing your hand against his naked shoulder, feeling the heat of his skin and the muscle underneath.
This was the normal routine after snoozing the alarm. Marcus pulled you against his body, your naked legs slotting together, keeping your bodies nestled close. The sleepy fog evaporated from your brain, replaced with contentedness that felt like it seeped into your bones, your body so relaxed in the embrace.
You loved mornings—loved waking up like this with the man you loved.
The sudden loud beeping had both of you tensing, Marcus sighing loudly as he loosened his arms, allowing you to turn over and switch off the alarm. The moment the noise was silenced, you found yourself being dragged back against him, making you giggle.
"Marcus, I have to get up and get ready for work." Your words came out rough from sleep.
He kissed your forehead.
"I don't want you to go yet; let me hold you for a minute longer," he said, voice deeper and raspier, tightening his hold on you.
You sighed.
"You say a minute, but it will turn into five, then ten, and next thing I know, I'm late for my eight am on the dot meeting."
His lips pressed against your forehead again, then the tip of your nose.
"Five minutes tops," he said. "Just need to hold you."
You felt yourself melt at his words and knew you couldn't say no.
"Five minutes," you acquiesced. "I can't be late. The hotshot running this thing is a stickler for tardiness, but I don't know what he expects scheduling something so early—everyone knows meetings shouldn't start before ten."
"I'm not a stickler for tardiness," he said, moving his head so you could look at him. The soft glow of light coming through the curtains illuminated the frown on his face. "If you know you have a meeting, you should be on time."
You smiled.
"You literally called out Debbie for being late last week. You're a stickler, babe."
His frown deepened.
"She arrived ten minutes after I started with Starbucks."
"And I don't blame her. It's honestly understandable; caffeine is essential for insane eight am meetings."
Marcus sighed.
"Maybe you have a point. I'll move them to ten."
You grinned.
"I love you," you said, leaning in to kiss him. His hand moved to the back of your head, pulling you closer to deepen it, a surprised moan escaping your throat as you threaded your fingers in his sleep-tousled hair, loving his groan when you lightly tugged on the strands.
You were panting when you broke apart, smiling at him, and Marcus with a dopey grin on his lips.
"I love you, too," he rasped.
"Thank you for finally being reasonable. You know, another advantage to later meetings is morning sex."
His eyebrow raised.
"I thought you said five minutes."
You moved, so your mouth was hovering over his.
"My boyfriend said he wasn't a stickler for tardiness."
