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: Empty rooms are always fair game, and even though this wasn't the reason Javier came to find you in the records room, you're not surprised in the slightest when things heat up. Now, if only he'd locked the door when he came in...
rating: Explicit (18+!! This is smut. No y/n, Soft Javier Peña (my beloved), unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, getting caught, vaginal fingering, creampie, dirty talk, praise kink, love confessions, secret relationship, co-workers)
word count: 2.2k+
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You have the file cabinet open, thumbing through the manila folders trying to find the one you were looking for. The records room walls were lined with filing cabinets, more in the middle with shelves for evidence boxes. You're in the back corner, furthest away from the door, but still able to hear when someone enters, hearing their footsteps and not bothering to look up as you continue your search.
His cologne hits you first—that familiar spiciness that you thought might be patchouli and cinnamon, layered with citrus notes, creating something almost intoxicating when you inhale it.
"No," you say, eyes still searching for the damn file.
An amused chuckle floats through the air and tingles down your spine.
"You don't even know why I'm here," Javi replies, words deep and raspy, and you try your best not to let it get to you, but his smell and voice have arousal pooling in your belly immediately.
It annoys you how easily he turns you on, seeing him in your peripheral.
You snort at what he says.
"Right. You just happened to need something at the same time I did."
"Yeah, there is something I need." You can hear him smirking, which makes you finally turn your head to look at him, seeing him leaning against a cabinet, arms crossed over his chest with that smirk you suspected tilted on his lips.
Your eyes narrow.
"I swear to god, Javier, if you say pussy, I am leaving, and you can explain to the Ambassador why she didn't get that file she asked for."
The smile falls from his face, his throat working as he gulps, eyes rounded, and he looks a little hurt? That confuses you.
"That's not the reason," he says.
"Okay?"
He sighs, seeing his shoulders slump as he looks away.
"You didn't kiss me goodbye before you left my apartment this morning," he says softly.
Your eyes go wide, not expecting him to say that.
"You were in the shower, and I was running late," you point out.
