Your Boyfriend Peter X Female Reader

Reassurance and Trust Issues

You sprinted towards the door like you were a demon, trying to go past heavens gate.
Oh, how long you searched for this place. Even Google Maps was an absolute unloyal supporter in this case. Two f*cking hours too late, you're sure he went to bed out of frustration.
His house, outside the city with no neighbours, you didn't thought it would be this hard to discover.
You knocked silently, preparing for a big apology...And a tantrum from your boyfriend.
No response.
You knocked again...again....and again. Nothing but the sound of your flat breathing. Your started to get worried, not slightly worried, really worringly worried. Maybe he was sleeping? Your thoughts were interrupted by loud rumbling sounds, things thrown around in various directions and the mixed sounds of crying, cursing and self-talking. What in the name of hell was happening in there? Suddenly there was complete utter silence...Again...
Your brain told you to take your feet in your hands and storm away, but your heart also had a say in this. And as always, you stayed on the side of your emotional being. Raising your hand you knocked and this time you hoped someone would answer. But no one came.
Out of confusion and the fact you want to know what's going on you slowly started banging at the wooden thing.

Suddenly the door finally opened, a hand pulling you inside, while closing the door behind you. Surpised you found yourself standing in front of a really demolished, like he had lost all hope of your coming looking Peter.
"D-D-Darling...yo-you-you're fi-fina-finally here," he said with rising joy in his voice.
You opened your mouth, explaining your late arrival, but shut yourself, knowing he would need something else right now.
"Peter...I'm so sorry but I completly forgot our date...I had to work overtime, then I had to look decent enough and then-then...ugh, I'm really sorry...," you finished eyeing him.
But he looked like he didn't hear one word you brabbled out like a chatter box. The tall man just sttod there, soul mirrors observing anything but you. "P-P-Peter...?"
No answer, move or reaction again. *What's wrong with him? Is he havong a hard attack? You heard about people turning numb, even unapproachable before the collapse. Either of it happened and now - Now you're beginning to feel stupid for talking to a living statue.
But you couldn't lose your calmness now. Instead you intertwined his hand with yours, adding meekly pressure to him. Your plan seems to work, at least his hollow eyes were now on you. "There we are," you praised him and sluggishly walked backwards to the midnight-black couch. Peter didn't resist your movements and slowly dragged along with you.
"Great, and now - You stood in front of the couch and turned 180° degrees so that he gook your position. As soft as you could manage you disloged your palms from his - But he flinshed and pressed your hands together with his, not wanting to let go. Sighing you shook them but it didn't work.
"Sweetheart?" Peter raised his gaze to you, but his soul mirrors still facing the ground. "I want to help you, I won't leave okay... But you have to let me go..."
His whole body jolted, more pressure added to you palms, you're sure it would leave marks.
"Peter...," your now firm, demanding voice started. "Let.Me.Go.," you required and his bigger two friends finally released you. "That's a good boy," you commended him with a light head pat. Touchstarved as he was, he leaned into your mellow touch.
*Has he praise kink or something?*
That is a question, which answer had to wait.
Putting you hand on his shoulders, fingers digging into the gray flesh, you requested him without words to sit down.
He moved in slow motion, not wasting to lose a glimpse of your godlike beauty and careness for a creature like him.
Even as he sat he, he reached your chest with no problem.
*What did his mother feed him? Steaks everyday, no he's too needle-like for that.*
"Darling....Why, why didn't you come?," he accussed you and the guilt rose again in you.
"Like I said, I had to work overtime...TK invited me to a drink afterwards...I completly forg-Peter?!?" He suddenly hugged you tightly, eveb though he knew you didn't like surprise hugs. You went stiff as a stick and felt wetness on your carefully chosen white blouse.
"Is he better?" Hiccuping the words out he pulled you tighter and demanded an answer. "Better at what?," you yelped, trying to find balance. "At caring for you, have I done something wrong?" You sighed and stroked his head again. "It was just a drink between friends , nothing more," you reassured him and started to caressing him again."Really?"
*God this guy could burn all your nerves.*
"Really, really," your promised and oppressed an upcoming sigh.
The stroking coninued flr half an hour and neither of you said a word.
Your hand growing tired in the standing position, you kneeled in front of him. Examing the highly decorated room and how he spruced up just for you, made you feel precisely more blamesworth.
"You did this all...for me?" you monologued and studied the room again. The feathers on the couch shimmering in the dimmed lights. He nodded, but looked away. *Was he ashamed of something?*
"You don't like it?" If you said no now, you're sure he would break down completly.
You scissored your hands on his legs and looked at him. "It's mesmerinzing, no one has put so much effort in, just for me," you said honestly and looked at him with affirmation.
He spaced out, not believing you. He thought you pitied him, not wanting to make him more upset. It was so hard NOT to believe those deep, surprised soul mirros of yours...
Bur what if...What if you really just felt sorry for him?...