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: It's the early morning of his 42nd birthday, and Javier is in the midst of having a very dirty dream when he's awoken suddenly and finds out it wasn't all in his head—his wife really is on top of him, something he loves waking up to.
rating: Explicit (This is literally smut and fluff. No y/n, mostly Javier's POV but shifts to reader at the end, Husband Javier Peña, Dad Javier Peña, age gap (about ten years), explicit smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up), consensual somnophilia, creampie (he's told not to pull out), lactation kink, cockwarming if you squint, woman on top, Javier fighting for his life not to come immediately, he dreams reader is pregnant, Javier loving your postpartum body a lot, slight body worship, Javier being so in love, domestic fluff (IT'S SO FLUFFY), breastfeeding, Javier being the best dad, Javier and his son wearing matching outfits, Javier loving his wife and child so much, Javier getting the love and happiness he deserves)
word count: 4.4k
a/n: This can be read as a standalone or part of the Learning to Live 'verse (it's canon). This idea came to me at 4:30 in the morning, and I couldn't stop thinking about it. Then I had a really rough week, and writing about Javi being a dad cheered me up (he's very cute in this), and here we are. It's close to being half dirty nasty smut and half domestic Javi-being-a-father fluff. I hope you enjoy!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Winter has barely sunk its teeth into southern Texas, and already, when the sun retires for the evening, the temperatures have begun dropping below freezing—It's so cold the home's heat has kicked on, something that hardly happens for the majority of the year.
With the house warm and the blankets on their bed thicker to combat the season's chill, Javier is snug and cozy beneath the covers, having fallen asleep with the woman he loves curled up in his arms.
It's a deep sleep that's taken him, the kind where you melt into the mattress and sink so far into your dreams the world fades away, and reality becomes whatever your mind conjures—Javier's mind has transported him back to his fully furnished apartment in Colombia, the one with the leather couch, and the colorful afghan blanket that was already there when he moved in to try and make the place feel homey. He's naked and sitting back on the sofa with a sheen of sweat all over his body, his skin sticking to the leather, a situation he'd been in so many times he'd lost count, but this one—Jesus Christ—this one is unforgettable.
The love of his life is in his lap, bouncing on his cock; he's mapped out every inch of her body and memorized all the ways she likes to be touched to the point he can play her like a virtuoso of her pleasure, and he can't help thinking how fucking beautiful she looks taking what she wants.
She's his Cielito (little heaven), his amor (love), his wife, and the mother of his one-year-old son—and in this scenario, she's also pregnant with their second child, which is riling him up when the soft swell of her belly bumps into him—fuck, he misses her being pregnant—he knows that look on her face means she's about to come, and he's going to get her there no matter what it takes.
