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Summary: You’re on your period, and Pedro decides to spoil you with hot chocolate.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Can be read by any age, there are only a few mentions of intimate relationships but in a very subtle way as a joke. no sexual content, just a cute moment with pedro that i was inspired to share.

Tags: Fluff, comfort, hurt/comfort, romance, domesticity, menstrual care, slice of life, soft moments.

Note: This is a oneshot and english is not my first language. I just wanted to write a relationship of love and comfort with Pedro ❤️‍🩹

Word count: 1,6k

Wrapped in blankets, you lift your head from the pillow when you hear the front door opening. Rain pounds against the windows, streaming down the glass and blurring the gray afternoon view. You’re cramping and fighting off a headache the perfect excuse for any girl to watch Twilight for the thousandth time.

The Cullens are in the middle of their iconic baseball game when the bedroom door opens and Pedro walks in, shaking his head like a drenched puppy. His wet curls stick to his forehead, making them even more noticeable.

“Did I take too long?”

“God, look at you,” you comment, frowning. “You’re gonna get sick.”

“Ah,” he glances at himself, then shrugs it off. “There were too many options,” he says, rummaging through a pharmacy bag. “With wings, without wings, tampons — then I remembered you once said you didn’t like those—” Pedro gestures dramatically, “So I got the ones with wings and a dry cover.”

He grins proudly and hands you the pack. You give him a faint smile, turning the package over in your hands while he waits for your approval.

“Uh… babe, um… these give me rashes.”

He freezes, his wide eyes darting between you and the pink package.

“Oh,” he mutters, lips slightly parted. “I’ll go back to the pharmacy.”

“What? No! Are you crazy? Get back here,” you almost jump out of bed while he’s already turning toward the door. “You’re soaking wet, go take a hot shower.”

He hums your name with a sing-song tone.

“It’s close, I’ll be back before you notice.”

“Baby, no. It’s fine, okay? Using these for one day won’t hurt me. Just… go take off those clothes.”

“You said what?” he raises an eyebrow, flashing a mischievous look.

You roll your eyes.

“Take those damn clothes off or I’ll kick your ass into the shower.”

“Alright, I got it,” he laughs softly as he walks toward the bathroom.

While he’s in there for what feels like forever, you curl up on the bed, wincing at every wave of pain, trying to find a comfortable position to watch the movie. Pedro reappears, wearing a white T-shirt, gray sweatpants, and no shoes. He smells like soap and shampoo, and honestly, if you weren’t in such a miserable state, there’s no way you’d have let him leave that bathroom dressed.

“What are you watching?” he asks, sitting down next to you. “Oh,” he pulls a face, clearly fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Don’t judge me, okay? It’s raining, and I’m emotional,” you say with mock drama.

“So, does this mean if it rained every day, you’d watch Twilight every day?”

“Yep.”

“God,” he mutters, shaking his head.

You laugh at his expression, which unfortunately triggers another sharp cramp in your stomach.

“You okay?”

“Cramps,” you whimper softly.

“Ah, sweetheart,” he kisses the back of your hand. “I’m sorry I bought the wrong pads.”

“Don’t worry about it, seriously.”

“I just hate messing things up.”

“Men, right?” you mutter while admiring Edward Cullen’s perfect face on screen.

“Hey, that’s offensive,” he points a finger at you, pulling your attention back and earning another laugh from you.

“Ow!” you groan. “I keep forgetting my boyfriend’s the first flawless man on earth.”

He flashes that shy smile — the one that shows up when he doesn’t know how to react.

“Okay, but look at it this way, this wouldn’t have happened if you used disposable panties.”

“Disposable panties?”

“Yeah.”

“Where the hell did you even hear about that?”

“Wait, you don’t know them?”

“Of course I know them, Pedro, please. But where did you hear about that?”

“I saw it on an Instagram page and…” he squints, thinking, then stops when he sees your teasing look. “Hey, I have two sisters, okay?”

“Ah, yes,” you nod, laughing.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that,” he imitates your smirk, leaning in dramatically. Your faces are so close that you both burst into laughter, and he kisses you. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, the tickle of his mustache brushing your lips.

“You’re so cute,” you murmur when he pulls away.

“Me? Look at you,” he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.

You tilt your head to the side, smiling shyly.

“You’re the most precious thing in my life.”

“Am I?”

“Well, after… let’s see,” he pretends to count on his fingers, and you swat his arm, making him laugh in that soft, adorable way that makes your heart squeeze.

He gets distracted, running his fingers through your hair. He’s obsessed with every detail about you: your hair, your freckles, your delicate hands that look tiny next to his, the way you act like a spoiled kid when you don’t feel well.

“Okay, but seriously… so I’m in your top three?” he asks in that sweet tone that matches the gentle way he’s playing with your hair.

“Huh?”

He calls your name, noticing your eyes glued to the TV.

“Ah, what did you say?”

“Can you stop drooling over Robert Pattinson?”

“Oh, honey,” you laugh and tug him closer by his shirt.

He looks at you with a faint hint of jealousy.

“You need to understand that this is my comfort movie. Like Purple Rain is for you.”

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna sleep with Prince.”

“And I don’t wanna sleep with Edward.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No! Like…” you laugh as his jaw tightens. “I mean, when I was a teenager I did, but…”

“Well, I think you’re already feeling better,” he pretends to get up, but you grab his arm.

“No, no,” you whine playfully. “Come here.”

He moves closer, lying down and resting his head on your stomach.

“I’m not hurting you, am I?”

“No, it’s perfect. You’re warm,” you smile as he presses his cheek to your skin. He lifts your shirt just enough to start caressing your belly.

You squirm slightly, and he glances up.

“You’re in pain,” he states.

“It’ll pass.”

“Did you take something for it?”

“Yeah.”

His touch is slow and soothing, almost like he’s massaging a baby’s tummy. He presses a soft kiss near your navel.

“For healing,” he says.

You smile.

“Silly. From this angle, I almost look pregnant.”

“Wait till your period’s over and I’ll put a baby there.”

“Jesus, shut up,” you laugh, feeling both flustered and warm all over.

His chest shakes with a quiet laugh.

“I love that face you make.”

“Don’t even joke about that.”

“What? About getting you pregnant?”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“It’s not like I don’t only say it at certain moments… and you like it,” he teases.

Your face heats up as memories of intimate moments flash in your mind. He mimics your moans in a high-pitched voice, making you cover your face in embarrassment.

“Stop that!” you demand, wishing the floor would swallow you whole. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh, I think it’s adorable when you get shy like that.”

“I hate when you bring that stuff up. Is that, like, a boyfriend thing?”

“I don’t get why you’re so embarrassed by it.”

“Because it’s weird!”

“We do it almost every day. Well, except when you’re like this…” his lips curve into a grin. “Oh, wait, we have done it like this.”

You roll your eyes as he chuckles and rests his head back on your lap. Thunder rumbles outside, lightning flashing across the room while Edward is busy sucking venom from Bella’s wrist on screen.

“You know, I had an idea…” Pedro tilts his head to look at you. You’re so focused on the TV that your brain takes a moment to catch up, and when it does, you laugh, realizing how ridiculous he’s being.

“You’re such an idiot.”

“I’m serious,” he says, trying not to laugh.

Another cramp hits, making you wince.

“Damn it, stop making me laugh.”

“Okay, sorry. But really, is there anything else I can do to help?”

You think for a moment, staring at his soft brown eyes that make him look like a big puppy.

“Just my boyfriend right here,” you say, playing with his curls.

He blinks at you with a lazy smile, snuggling against your belly. Then suddenly, he gets up, like a light bulb went off in his head.

“I know exactly what you need.”

With a raised eyebrow, you watch him leave the room, disappearing for what feels like ages. You glance at the clock almost half an hour passes and just as you’re about to get up, he stumbles back in, carrying a tray loaded with a mug, cookies, and enough sweets to give you diabetes.

“Pedro…” you say, stunned.

You sit up, and he sets the tray on your lap. On it: a steaming mug of hot chocolate, cookies, chocolate bars, truffles — basically, an entire candy store.

“You trying to fix my cramps or give me diabetes?”

He laughs.

“Try it,” he nods at the mug.

“You made this?” you ask, skeptical.

“Who else would’ve made it?”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“To see if you ordered this.”

“Silly,” he rolls his eyes. “I might not be able to cook dinner, but I know how to make my girl a proper hot chocolate, okay?”

You grin and wrap your hands around the warm mug.

“Careful, it’s hot,” he warns, leaning closer to blow on it.

“I’m not a baby, you know?”

“You’re my baby,” he teases.

You take a small sip, and the rich chocolatey taste spreads through your chest like comfort.

“Good?”

“It’s heaven,” you sigh, eyes closing, and he smiles, looking pleased with himself.

Pedro lies down next to you, stealing a few chocolates while keeping you company. You hold the mug in one hand, the other gently playing with his curls.