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're running late for work, but skipping breakfast is worth Javier fucking you against the bathroom counter.
warning: Explicit (18+!! No y/n, Soft Javier Peña (but he fucks hard), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), mirror sex, creampie, dirty talk, praise kink, hair pulling (no descriptions of hair), spit mention, an ass slap, Javier feeling really bad about making you sore, bath, Javier taking care of you)
word count: 3.3k+
a/n: Can be read as a standalone, or a part of the Learning to Live 'verse.
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The alarm clock hadn't gone off.
You'd set it before bed, but there was a thunderstorm in the middle of the night, and the power must have gone out because when you woke up, the red numbers were blinking a time that it definitely wasn't simply based on the light spilling through the curtains.
When you'd checked your watch on the bedside table, it confirmed you'd overslept, and now you were in a hurry to get ready, standing in the bathroom brushing your teeth.
Movement could be heard from the bedroom of Javi getting out of bed, the springs in the mattress creaking as he got up.
"Cielito?" His voice was thick from sleep, deep and raspy, his footsteps getting closer.
You leaned over the sink spitting out the toothpaste and turning on the water to wash it down the drain, cleaning your toothbrush before putting it in the holder.
"Morning, babe," you answered, Javi appearing in the doorway, seeing his face puffy from sleep, eyes big and round in the mirror. He was completely naked, unabashed by his nudeness, his hair an absolute mess atop his head.
"You weren't in bed," he pouted.
You turned your head to look at him, taking in his broad shoulders filling the doorframe. He had a dark hickey at the base of his throat, another fading over his pulse point, freckles dotting his tanned skin, his softened belly looking kissable, the tantalizing trail of dark hair leading down to his very hard dick jutting out from his hips.
"I'm sorry, baby," you said. "The alarm didn't go off, and I'm running late for work."
He was still frowning as he walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your middle, feeling his warm skin flush against your back, the hard line of his cock pressing into your lower back while he rested his chin on your shoulder to meet your eyes in the mirror.
"I had a dream," he sighed, kissing your neck.
"You had a dream?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah," he spoke into your skin. "We were in a field or park, somewhere with grass and the sun shining down on us—you wearing one of your pretty fucking dresses, and riding me, tits in my face, and I woke up, wanting...." He squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a frustrated groan.
