pedro pascal onshots

anxiety- professor pedro pascal (AU)

Let me know if you want a part 2 :)

Warnings: mentions of anxiety

(Y/N) was nervous. It was her first day of her third year in college. Anxiety on the first day always made everything worse. She gets ready for the day, putting on a cute outfit, some light makeup, and grabs her things getting in her car.

She pulls up to the campus sighing. (Y/N) parks heading to algebra. College algebra sucks, especially if you aren't good at it. This was her third year of algebra because she had failed the last two. She walks down the long hall, head down. She wasn't very confident and that was obvious to others.

(Y/N) reaches her lecture room, choosing a seat right at the front. She unpacks her bag, pulling out her pen and spiral notebook. "Ready to fail another year." She thinks tapping her pen on the paper.

(Y/N) isn't paying attention until she sees an unfamiliar face. They must have a new algebra teacher. He is tall with slightly messy hair and a beard. (Y/N) blushes finding him attractive in a way. She knew it wasn't right because he was her professor. She pushes the thought out of her head.

"Good morning, class." Her professor says. "I'm Professor Pedro Pascal." He says. His voice is rich, clear. (Y/N) watches as he scans the room and his eyes land on her and they linger for a moment. "As you can see, I'm new." Pedro says. "I hope to help most of you pass this class with ease, as I know some of you have failed at this class many times." He says, chuckling softly. (Y/N) feels slightly panicks knowing she is one of the ones he is talking about her. "Now. Let's get started."

After class, (Y/N) slowly packs her bag. Anxiety really did wear her out. Being tired all the time really gets to her. It prohibits her from studying from the need to sleep. She puts her last items in her bag and throws it over her shoulder. "Excuse me. Miss. (L/N)?" Someone says before she can reach the door. It was her professor. Butterflies flutter in her stomach. "Yes, sir?" She answers turning to face him. "Please, call me Pedro. I'm not a fan of formality." He says gesturing to the seat beside his desk. "Please, sit. I would like to discuss something with you." He says and (Y/N) sits, her leg bouncing and jittery. "I wanted to talk about your attempts at this class." Pedro says looking (Y/N) in the eyes. God, she hated eye contact. She looks down at her lap, internally panicking. "Two years and you haven't passed the class." Pedro continues. "Why is that?" He asks. (Y/N) swallows, tear prickling her eyes. "Well, I just," She reminds herself to breath. "I dont understand the concepts. The other professor just didn't teach in a way I understand." (Y/N) says letting out a shaky breath. Pedro nods chewing on the end of a pen. "Are you alright?" He asks noticing her discomfort. "Yeah. Just anxiety." She mumbles. "What was that?" Pedro says turning his chair to face her. (Y/N) swallows again tapping her foot nervously. "Anxiety." She says, feeling an anxiety attack coming on. Her breathing becomes less frequent and labored. A small tear rolls down her face. She stops it long enough to say a small 'sorry' and run out into the hall to regain control of her breathing.

Pedro walks out into the hallway where (Y/N) is, hands in his pockets. "So, anxiety, huh?" He says quietly. (Y/N) nods, sitting on the floor, holding the sides of her heads. Her breathing hasn't started to level out yet. Pedro slides down the wall sitting beside her. 'Why is he doing this?' She thinks. 'What if he kicks you out of his class?' 'You're going to fail this class.' 'You won't get credit.' (Y/N) lets a few more tears escape her eyes. Pedro has a worried look on his face. "Hey." He says grabbing one of her hands. His hand is warm, gentle. "Focus on your breathing." He says calmly. "Name one thing you can hear." Pedro says rubbing his thumb across her hand. "Your voice." (Y/N) stutters. "One thing you can see." He smiles. "The floor." She says quietly still looking down. She is starting to feel more calm, leveled. "One thing you can feel." He squeezes her hand. 'Your hand in mine.' She thinks shaking the thought out of her head. "The tears on my face." (Y/N) chuckles looking over at Pedro. He laughs lightly. "Are you feeling any better?" He asks quietly. "Yeah, I'm sorry." (Y/N) says, ashamed. "It's alright. I used to struggle with it myself." He let's go of her hand, standing and offering her a hand. She takes it, standing and wipes her face. "Thank you." (Y/N) she's with a smile of gratitude. "You're welcome." He says smiling as well. Her smile was contagious. "If it's ok with you, I want you in one-on-one tutoring. I think it would help." Pedro comments heading back inside the lecture hall. (Y/N) follows him grabbing her bag. "I'll email you the information but I'm sure you'll pass this year." He says smiling with his teeth. (Y/N) nods. "Thank you again." He was perfect.