can i request frat peter comforting and taking care of reader on her period?
i wrote this at work, do not EVER question my loyalty to frat!peter
w: talks of blood/period (i’m on mobile and can’t add a read more tag)
“Hello?”
It’s daytime and you’re calling Peter, he almost didn’t answer but something told him it was important.
He didn’t leave the lunch table, instead crossing his arms over his chest as he answered, his chair tilted back on two legs. Eyebrows furrowed in focus mode, he heard a slight shuffle, he assumes it’s a buttdial but he hears a whisper.
“That you, trouble?”
You must not have heard him the first time, the audio becomes crystal clear. You speak so loud and clear he can see your mouth pressed against the edge of your phone in his mind while you talk low.
“Peter, I need you.”
Oh. Well that’s a nice lunch break.
“At school? You really are tro-“
“No! I need you to come do something. I need help.”
The last part is a mumble, you didn’t want to admit. Peter slammed his seat down, “what do you need from me?” Instantly in go mode.
“It’s embarrassing,” his chest doesn’t feel as tight, nothing life or death.
“Spit it out junior, you’re making me miss out on my sandwich.”
“igotmyper-bloodisever-help?”
You heard silence then loud chewing, Peter’s voice came out garbled, his bite stored in his cheek.
“I heard blood and help, did you stab someone?” You whine out on the other end, you said you needed his help but he’s taking the piss.
“No! I’m…” Peter’s heart races when you sniffle, it’s the first time he’s ever heard you cry. He speaks to you so softly it catches the attention of his friend across the table.
“Hey, trouble. Stop crying for me, okay? Just let me know what you need and I’ll be right there, alright?”
You nod and realize he can’t see, you take a deep breath to stop your tears.
“I got my period.”
“Yuck! Why are you calling me?”
“Because,” why did you? You didn’t even think, you were in panic mode and for whatever reason he was the one you thought of calling. “Can you please help?”
Peter groaned, “call one of your girl friends, they’re prepared for this.”
“Yeah, but you’re my-“ my… my what? He wasn’t your anything. “Never mind, I’ll call-“
“No, no. I’ll play hero for you, where are you?”
You looked down at your ruined pants and cringed, “um, the downstairs bathroom in the lab building.”
Peter takes a beat, his mind trying to connect the dots.
“Why are you in the… trouble, were you coming to see me?” He’s not even in the room and he makes you feel flushed, “no! I was just passing by and noticed.”
“Give me five minutes, don’t move.”
—————
“You can’t be in here.”
A straight to the point fact. You can imagine the hoity toity expression on the girl's face, you don’t blame her for questioning but if a guy comes into a woman’s bathroom you’d assume it’s for a reason.
“Excuse me! I said you can’t be in here!”
“Fuck off, my girlfriend got her period.”
Your breath hitched, you know he didn’t mean it like that but wow did it feel nice.
“Oh. Well, still. You shouldn’t be in here.”
“Yeah, noted. I ruined your day.” A two knuckle tap on the stall door, you heard the main door open and a few choice words directed at your boy. He didn’t acknowledge it, his only focus on you.
“Trouble, you doing alright?”
“Yeah,” you stare at his shoes under the door.
“Want me to come in?”
You look at your pants and wince, you didn’t expect it to come early. You didn’t leak through a tampon or pad, you freebled and the back of your thighs proved it.
“It’s bad,” because it was. Even for your standards.
“Yeah, you’re gross. Can I come in?”
You stand from the toilet, you’d never rest your jeans on the seat normally but they’re already trash. You slide the lock on the handicap stall and it slowly pushes open.
“Hi,” you look shy and embarrassed, Peter pushed past that entirely.
“Hi, c’mere.” You melt into his chest when his arms wrap tight around you, his mouth places a kiss on your hairline.
“Alright, shark week. Let’s see the damage,” you peer at the ground and turn slowly. “Ah shit, okay. Hold on.”
Peter tugged his backpack off his shoulder and unzipped it. A togo bag was folded up, he pulled it out and handed it to you, you held onto the cardboard handles.
“Put your nasty, hazardous material covered, underwear in here. And use one of these, or both, I dunno, I don’t have… one of those.”
Peter hands you a pad and a tampon, your eyes sparkle when you grab them. “Where did you get these from?” He rubbed at the back of his neck, “Matt’s girlfriend, I asked if she had something and she asked what you used, I didn’t know so I asked for both.”
You clutch the paper thin plastic to your chest, “thank you.”
He pauses then nods, as he backs out his hand holds the top of the stall door. You wait to make sure he’s not coming back in and you start stripping, you follow his instructions and pull your pants back up. It’s an uncomfortable sticky, you can’t wait to get home as soon as possible to shower.
The stain is still your biggest issue, there’s no way you’d face the entire campus with it.
“Peter-“
The door swung back out, your boy smiled. You clutched the bag shyly, you would have to walk back to your dorm, with a fat stain.
“Give me the biohazard,” you shake your head fast, there’s no way you’d let Peter see what’s in the bag.
“No, no way. It’s disgusting.”
“Trouble,” he gives you a look you haven’t seen before, “give me the damn bag,” you hold it out and he snatches it. Closing it carefully and stuffing it back in his backpack before zipping it closed.
“As for that,” Peter points at your red stain. He drops his bag to the ground and pulls off his outer layer. An open faced flannel, a plain white tee shirt underneath.
Peter pushes your elbows up, “arms up.”
You took a deep breath when he approached, he smelled so, so good. Peter tugged you closer by your hips and gave you a very light smile, his arms looped around you, his flannel in his hands.
You're brought closer when the arms of his shirt are tied tightly around your waist, he crouches in front of you to hang the sleeves just right, leveling them so they hide your crotch.
Peter’s fingers tap your knee, “spread for me,” you do as he asks and he looks you over before standing.
“I think I just helped you cover up a murder, we’re bonded for life now.”
Funny, he jumped right into action and guided you when you were too frazzled to think for yourself, yet you still feel shy.
“Thanks, I don’t know why I called you. It’s not your job.”
Peter’s hand cups your face, “hey,” you look into his eyes, he doesn’t seem so scary, and not in the slightest disgusted or bothered.
“You’re my girl, right?”
You nod into his touch, his thumb brushes your skin, proud you know the answer.
“That means you call whenever you want and I’ll come running.”
“Thank you, petey.”
He didn’t fight you on the nickname, his thumb rested over your bottom lip until he gave in. Peter gave you a bruising kiss, one that made him prove how much he actually cared for you, even if he couldn’t make the words leave his mouth.
You pulled back, not trying to makeout in a bathroom.
“Can you take me home?”
Your boy scoffs, “absolutely not. I have three quarters of a sandwich waiting for me, getting soggier by the second.”
When you frown at him his thumb catches it and tugs it back up. “But-“ Your eyes light up, he can’t help himself and places a chaste kiss to your mouth, “I’ll give you a key so you can hang out at mine?”
A key? A house key? He’d give you a house key?
“I would’ve thought hell would freeze over before you’d give me a key to your place.”
Peter shrugs, “eh, that’s before I knew I was dating a squirter.” He giggles when you smack at his arms, you grunt when a sudden cramp hits and you squeeze his arm in support instead.
“Alright, crampy. Go home, I’ll give you a cuddle when I get back.”
You nearly skip out of the bathroom with Peter behind you, he looks around before pressing a kiss to your temple.
“I’ll see you in a few hours, yeah?”
You can’t help but to sigh dreamily, “yeah.”
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