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...
summary: You set rules when sex became a thing with your CIA partner Dave York. He just doesn't like to follow them.
rating: Explicit (Dave York comes with his own warning, unprotected p in v , anal play , dirty talk, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, spanking, spit mention, some possessiveness, dom vibes, Dave being a menace, a glimpse of Soft!Dave)
word count: 1.4k+
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You'd managed to keep things professional with your work partner Dave York for a while, years actually, until you finally crossed the line, or, more accurately, he hauled you across it and gave you the best sex of your entire life.
You set rules: the sex didn't get in the way of your jobs with the CIA, it didn't affect your partnership, and the office was off limits.
He'd agreed with that little smile that told you he was going to challenge one of the rules.
You quickly found out it was the office one while you both were working late one night.
You'd taken over a conference room, all four walls were floor-to-ceiling glass windows, the blinds shut on the interior ones, blocking you from the view of anyone else working. The sun had set, and the city was lit up with all sorts of lights down below and from the neighboring buildings.
Files were scattered on the long table in the middle of the room; a whiteboard was set up with pictures and details of the current operation you were working on.
Dave was sitting directly next to you, his hand stroking your thigh as he read what was in front of him. You were having trouble focusing on the words you were reading.
You sighed.
"Your hand," you said.
It kept moving.
"What about it?" He didn't bother looking up.
"Nothing in the office."
"Only touching your thigh—it's innocent."
"It's a distraction."
He finally looked at you, smirking.
"How's me touching your thigh a distraction?" He asked.
Your eyes narrowed.
"You know why, David."
He leaned in close, his mouth hovering over your ear, making you clench around nothing as you felt his breath ghost against your skin.
"Is it because all you can think about are my fingers deep inside your pussy, making you scream my name?" His hand moved under your skirt as you gasped out, Dave, his hand palming your core over your underwear. "Already soaked, sweetheart. Let me take care of you. Anything you want, my fingers, my cock, my tongue, it's yours."
