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softpascalito · 9 months

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Pedro Pascal x Reader - I'll look after you

Summary: Pedro is sick (but of course he doesn't admit it). You look after him. Hurt/Comfort (but the twist is that you're the one doing the comforting).

Relationships: Pedro Pascal / Reader

WC: ~2000

Tags/Warnings: RPF, Pedro Pascal, No use of Y/N, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, Sick!Pedro, Established Relationship, Mostly Gender-Neutral, Fluff and Angst, pedro pascal needs a hug, this is so soft and emotional and gentle-, author uses fanfic as therapy

AO3 LINK

Notes: hello loves! just a quick heads up: this is no medical advice because someone decided to got to film school rather than medical school. anyways: enjoy <3

songs recommended to go with this fic: look after you - the fray moon song - phoebe bridgers - lea

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“You're not going.”

Pedro let out an exasperated sigh:” It's just a small interview. I'll be fine.” “If it's just a small interview, surely it's no big deal for them to reschedule.” You retorted instantly.

You were standing in the hallway of the small apartment the two of you shared. It was a familiar scene. Pedro quickly slipping into his worn-out trainers, already halfway towards the door, balancing his phone, keys and a coffee in his left hand, a kiss on the cheek the last thing you got before he hauled off to whatever photoshoot or interview he had scheduled that day.

Today however, something was different. He had slept in later than usual, hence the hurry he was in now.

“I can see you're not doing well.”-”I said Im fine.” You could hear his voice straining a little more. Pedro was very patient- especially with you. But he hated being late and you knew he likely was already on edge with whatever he was going through:” I'll see you tonight.”

He gave another nod in the rough direction of you and turned towards the door. Your voice became a tad more gentle as you spoke.

”Pedrito.”

For a second, you thought he was going to ignore you, brush it off and hurry to his car, leaving you behind. But then he stopped his movements, his hand remaining on the handle of the open door as his shoulders slumped ever so slightly. You waited another beat before speaking again:

“Please let me give them a call and ask them to reschedule. I'll take the blame if you want.”

The door closed as he took a step back and leaned against it. You barely caught his voice as he spoke:” Alright.”

You closed the distance between you and your gaze automatically wandered over him, taking in the beads of sweat on his forehead and the glazed-over look in his eyes that had made you skeptical in the first place. What you had failed to notice was the small tremor in his hands. “Give me those,” you said softly, and you were glad to see that he allowed you to take the keys and coffee out of his hands and place them on the small hallway table next to you.

“You wanna go lie down? I'll give them a call and then I'll make you some tea, alright?”

He noticed how gentle your tone was, how careful you seemed- all because he was running a small fever. Still, he couldn't help the tiny part of him that felt relieved at the idea of not having to go to the interview, not having to answer questions he had heard several times before, not having to sit under the scorching lights.

“As you command,” he teased. You knew he was doing this to take some of your worry away, to make you feel better. Pedro did this a lot. Whenever he felt like he had dug too deep or like he was putting too much weight on you, he'd simply play it off. After months together, you could see right through it. For now, however, you decided to let it slide, giving him a small smile, meant to lift his spirits.

The call didn't take long. There was a notion of annoyance on the other side of the line and you were reminded to cancel as early as possible in cases like these. You didn't give any explanation, simply reassured them that you'd find a new date and hung up.

You were just standing on your tiptoes to check the scarce collection of tea in the cabinet, when you heard the small commotion from the hallway. For a second, you assigned it to something falling over in the breeze coming from the sea or a sound drifting in from the outside. And then you remembered the exhaustion in Pedros face.

You were in the hallway in an instant, finding him leaning onto the small end table. The cup of coffee had fallen to the floor, a rug below catching most of its contents. For a split second, you got annoyed, knowing you'd have to throw it into the laundry. You opened your mouth to complain- and closed it again. The slight anger in you turned into genuine concern as you saw Pedros white knuckles holding on to the table, his face pale.

“Babe?” You asked softly as you stepped forward, ignoring the way the coffee was also soaking into your socks:” You okay?”

“Jus' a little dizzy,” He mumbled, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to steady himself:” Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You said firmly as you half crouched between him and the table and then raised yourself to full height again, allowing him to use you as a crutch:” Let's get you to the couch, big guy.”

It took quite some combined effort, and more than once you worried about him actually passing out- but eventually, he fell down onto the couch with a soft sigh. He leaned back, covering his face with his hands:” Fuck, I'm sorry.” He mumbled, again. Apologizing. Again. Always apologizing.

“Do you want me to call a doctor or something?” You asked, still unsure about how bad his state actually was.

“No, no, just need a minute.” You watched with concern as he took a few deep breaths, clearly trying to convince his body to stay conscious. The thing about unconsciousness though is that it doesn't have shit to do with willpower. If you fall, you fall. No matter how hard you're trying to tell your brain to keep pumping the blood towards where it's needed.

The water heater beeping dragged you back to reality.

“I'll get you that tea either way.” You mumbled and headed towards the kitchen again, muttering a ' you stay ' with another glance in his direction.

He did as told.

You quickly threw the tea bag into the mug, poured the hot water on it, grabbed a small chocolate bar for good measure and returned to the living room.

“Here you go.” You mumbled as you sat the steaming mug down and offered the chocolate to Pedro:” Will this help?” He gave you a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. They still looked glazed over and you hummed as you took in his face, gently bringing your hand up to feel his forehead.

“Pedge, you're burning up.” He looked up at you with his round, brown puppy eyes and he just looked so goddamn miserable that it truly broke your heart, instantly making you wish you could take all his pain away.

“Okay, let me get a thermometer-” Pedro frowned slightly:”Do we have one of those?”-”I bought one, remember? I said-”

”You said we'd need one eventually.” He offered.

Despite his pitiful state, you couldn't help but grin a bit:” That's right.” You hummed as you grabbed a small box from the hallway closet, filled with different medications and- ”Here it is.”

As you approached him, Pedro squirmed slightly:” You're not gonna try to put that up my butt, are you?” You rolled your eyes:” Your mouth is fine.”

With a small wink, you added:” I'm saving your pretty little bum for another time.”

He blushed slightly at that but you barely noticed, already busy taking the thermometer out of its packaging:” You want me to do it?”

Pedro gave a small nod but you could tell he was conflicted about it. For a moment, he seemed to consider his words:” Baby, maybe you should leave. I don't want you getting sick too and-”

”No.” He opened his mouth to protest, but you cut him off by pressing a small kiss to his lips:” There. Already infected. Now open up.”

He was stunned enough to not protest. You were as gentle as possible as you rested one hand on his cheek, the other leading the thermometer into his mouth:” No talking.” He grumbled a bit but did as told, his gaze lingering on you as you both waited for the beep that would signal that the temperature was ready.

At this point, he knew you well enough to realize that you wouldn't leave him- no matter how many times he asked. On the other hand, you knew him well enough to realize he would still ask, always afraid of being a burden.

Your brows furrowed a bit as you took the thermometer out and glanced at the small screen:” It isn't too bad but some paracetamol wouldn't hurt.” You deduced, already grabbing the pills from the box and quickly glancing over the leaflet.

The look Pedro was giving you didn't fully reach your brain until you realized how quiet he was. Immediately, you turned your attention towards him:” Are you okay? Are you feeling dizzy?”

To your surprise, he gave a small chuckle. He was glancing at you in wonder:” How do you know all this?” You raised a brow:'' Thermometers and Paracetamol aren't exactly rocket science.” He shook his head:” Still, you're- you're kind of good at that.”

You gave a small shrug as you poured him a glass of water:” I spent a few summers helping out at camp when I was younger. They didn't have a proper nurse so I filled in.”

Again, he stared up at you in amazement:” I didn't know that.” He said quietly.

“Well, we never- it never came up.” You replied, a little self-conscious:” I didn't think it was very interesting.”

“Everything about you is interesting. To me, I mean.” He blurted out. You stared at him for a moment and then sighed, shaking your head.

“Pedro, you have a fever.”-”So?”-”So, declarations of your deep love for me don't count because you're not in the right state of mind.” Both of you stayed quiet as you settled down on the couch.

“Are you sure you dont wanna leave?” You smiled at him gently as you drew a blanket over his legs:” Go to sleep, baby.”

Again, you fell into silence as you watched him close his eyes. You were beginning to think he'd already fallen asleep, when he suddenly spoke again.

“Querida?” He asked in a low voice. Your head perked up slightly:” Hm?”

“Remind me again tomorrow.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, your brain already zoning out:” Remind you of what?”

“To tell you how much I love you.”

You were too choked up to answer. You simply stared at him, his broad form nestled into the couch, two pillows below his back because it always, always hurt, his hair messy and sticking up into all directions and his eyes closed, seemingly already drifting off to sleep. He looked so soft and vulnerable and you couldn't help the strong urge to protect him, to shield him from all evil in the world. Including the evil of a sick day.

It didn't take more than a few minutes until his breathing became deeper and eventually he began snoring softly.

You watched his chest rise and fall from your spot on the couch and you thought your heart might leap out of your own chest and join in his, because you simply loved him that much.

With a small sigh, you got up again. You turned off the doorbell, threw both your socks and the coffee-stained rug into the washer, drew a few curtains and hid the script Pedro had been working on below some magazines. As far as you were concerned, he was on bedrest for the remainder of the day.

When you were satisfied, you returned to your spot on the couch, shifting slightly so that you were lying next to him but still giving him enough space to turn in his sleep.

“I'll remind you every day.” You mumbled, more to yourself than him.

I'll remind you every day as long as your answer stays the same, I'll have you as long as you'll have me .

You thought distantly as you too closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep, your hand finding his in a gesture that conveyed more than either of you could say.

But you knew. Both of you knew .

You knew now and you'd know the day after. And the day after that. And you had a feeling he did too.

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ty for reading!! i am afraid i am in fact a hopeless romantic. anyways, i hope you guys enjoyed it, please leave a comment if you did <3

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