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: Javier hates parties, yet he was coming with you to one. You quickly determine his intentions when his hand ends up under your dress at the bar.
rating: Explicit (Kinda jealous Javier Peña, public sex, vaginal fingering, (1) clit smack, thigh riding, dirty talk, praise kink, exhibition kink, light d/s tones, feelings, soft Javier Peña)
word count: 2k+
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You knew Javier hated social events. You'd known that before you started dating and were just co-workers—he never attended the office parties, or met up at the bar after work with the group wanting to blow off some steam. He'd get a drink with you and/or Steve. He'd even show up at the Murphy's for Sunday dinner that Connie was adamant she cook the three of you, but parties? No, not his thing, so it was a bit surprising that when you mentioned you were stopping by a going away party, Javi said he was joining you.
The event was happening at a bar frequented by DEA agents, and close to the office—the place dimly lit, the drinks reasonably priced, music playing at a volume where you needed to raise your voice for people to hear you.
You suspected Javi's change in opinion of social gatherings, had something to do with the fact that the guy leaving had taken you out on a date soon after you'd arrived in Colombia—nothing came of it, there was no spark, but you'd remained friendly. Your suspicion was proven correct when you were sitting at a table in the back of the place; Javi with his chair scooted so close to yours that you could feel his body heat next to you. He had one arm around your shoulders, his other hand slowly making its way up the hem of your dress under the table, while you were trying to converse with the man of the hour, who was sitting across from you.
It had never crossed your mind that Javi would ever be jealous; he wasn't possessive. But then your mind tracked through all of your interactions with the co-worker leaving; you realized after Javi found out about the date, he seemed to pop up and pull you away every time you were talking to him. Javi always had a grumpy look when men flirted with you, or a grumpier than usual look, which usually ended with the two of you tucked away in a supply closet or file room, or that one memorable occasion in Ambassador Noonan's empty office, with his dick inside you.
Your hands gripped your glass, trying to ignore the soft touch of his fingertips as they stroked along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You could close your legs and trap the wayward hand, but you didn't think Javi would be so brazen—he had to just be teasing you, which was working, because feeling him had your body going warm as you tried to pay attention to the conversation in which your coworker was very happy to talk about himself.
A breath hitched in your throat when Javi palmed his hand over your underwear, and you knew that he could feel your heat and the wetness beginning to seep through the material. You were hearing about the other man's plans for when he got back to the states when Javi rubbed his fingers against your clit, quickly bringing your drink to your lips to cover the moan stuck in your chest.
