Title: Broken. Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Reader. Words: 644 Rating: T. (Mentions of Sex).
To say that you were angry would be putting things very lightly. You were furious. Glancing down at the glass that was scattered around the living room was enough to make you blow up. It wasn’t even a full minute since you arrived home, and it was already destroyed. “Oh my god, I’m going to kill him.” You uttered to yourself, throwing your bag down onto the nearby couch, storming off to find the broom and dustpan. “I swear to god, one day… I’m going to tie all his shoelaces together…” Biting down on your bottom lip roughly to refrain yourself from cursing out loud, you returned to the living room with the broom. “Peter!”
“In the bathroom,” He sounded smug, nearly amused as if he knew what he had done, “Ocupado.”
“Get your ass out here before I beat it red.”
“Threats are not going to get me out of here.” Peter uttered, knowing you could still hear him, “you’ll have to do better than that, (Name)! I’m serious! I’m trying to tweeze my eyebrows, and this one hair won’t come out and-”
That seemed to be enough to get him to at least peep his head out of the bathroom, glancing down the hallway to meet your eyes. Yikes, he thought to himself, you were beyond the point where he could give you a kiss and some chocolate to make up for what he had done. “Yes, dear?” He hadn’t meant for his tone to come out sarcastic, but there he was, being the sarcastic ass he was.
“Did you knock the lamp off the table?”
Scoffing, he looked to the side and swallowed, “No, the dog did.”
“We don’t have a dog.”
He paused, pursing his mouth to the side in thought, “Would you believe me if I said a dog came into our house, ran around only the living room, and then left?”
He looked at you, popping his lips. “Would you believe me if I said it was a cat?”
“No.” You sighed, bending down to pick up the bigger shards of glass before sweeping the smaller. Your hands moved carefully, as to not cut yourself, “Why don’t you just admit you were running in the house again, and be done with it?”
“Because I know you, and I’d never hear the end of it?” He offered up.
“So, you admit to doing it.”
“Damn it,” Peter muttered under his breath, pushing back some of his silver hair, “Yeah, it was me. I’m sorry, (Name). We should consider moving the furniture, it’s really close together.”
“Oh my god, Peter… That was a new lamp!” You snapped.
“Ohhhh my god…” You threw the glass away, glaring at him. He had yet to come out of the bathroom, and still had only his head peeped out so he could look at you, “What am I going to do with you?”
“May I suggest something with ropes and leather?”
“Teach me a lesson, (Name).”
“We tried that, and you-”
“I STARTED CRYING, I KNOW.” He swallowed, “we could try it again though, I won’t cry, promise.”
“You said you wouldn’t cry when we went to go see Empire Strikes Back, but you did.”
“That,” He pointed his finger at you, “There was an eyelash in my eye, and I told you that and I thought you understood.” You stared at him, bemused. “Which, apparently you didn’t.”
“I’m just saying,” You chuckled ever so slightly, “I whipped your chest once with the riding crop, and you were out of it.”
“I was not expecting it.”
“Oh, really?” Cocking your hip to the side, you continued with a small smirk, “My warning, ‘I’m starting’, wasn’t enough for you?”