Prompt(s): could you do a peter maximoff (xmen version) imagine? im real shit with finding prompts so…? tysm!!!
Notes: I hope you don’t mind that, before I wrote for the blog, I had written this one for Mo! I still kept it in an imagine setting, so I used (y/n) bc it was just easier. I honestly love this one so much?? Well, enjoy my friend!
Warning: None?
It was a hot summer day, school had just finished, and you were stuck with the crummy summer job of convenience store clerk. And it wasn’t even a good convenience store, just one of the lesser known, sucky ones in the suburbs. It didn’t help that your jerky older cousin had gotten the job for you, or the fact that he was the manager. Great.
The AC was broken, leaving you to run the back of your hand under your visor every two minutes. You leaned on the counter, having just finished cleaning the floors and restocking. Exhausted, you stood at the counter, waiting for the few customers in the store to buy their items. This job was so boring…You just hoped the day would get better as it went on.
About an hour later, around three o’clock, you looked around the empty store from your position behind the counter. Your hair shifted, now hanging under your visor and in your eyes. Sighing, it was easily blown away and tucked behind your ear. It wasn’t a even second later that a newspaper flew off the shelf, and a weird burst of air flew past you. Standing straight, you felt it again. The AC was broken and, despite the door being opened, it wasn’t supposed to be wind today. At least, not any as strong as you were feeling (the forecast had politely informed you of this earlier that morning).
Getting out from behind the counter, you noticed weird scorch marks on the floor. You had just mopped it too! Where the hell was it coming from?? The now annoying breeze was coming and going, it felt like it was rushing past you. Following the trail and looking up at the shelf it stopped at, you gasped- where the hell were all the twinkies?! You had just stocked those earlier!
“Okay….This is getting too creepy for me…..Hello…? It any one here?” You called, eyebrows knit in concern and worry.
“Why hello princess. Are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost!” Came a voice from behind you. Jumping back, you turned around and came face to face with a rather handsome man, taller than you, with shoulder length silver hair. He was taking some weird goggles off his face, setting them in his seemingly fluffy hair.
“Uh….Yeah, I feel like I have, haha. Say uh….Do you know where the twinkies have gone? No one has bought any today and uh, I just stocked them so…” You raised an eyebrow, taking the chance to look him over.
He wore mainly silver jacket, a black pants, belt, and a Pink Floyd shirt. An apparent theme, you supposed. There was something sticking out of his pockets, along with one hand suspiciously positioned behind his back. The bulge in his pockets looked twinkie sized…The man, Peter, you think he had said, introducing himself after reading your nametag, was saying something. Tuning back in after he poked you, you looked up and tried to withhold your judgement, deciding to play along and pretend not to notice the twinkies in his pants.
“…So it’s nothing big really- hey, were you even listening? Hello? You in there?” He asked, gently poking your forehead.
“Please don’t poke me. What were you saying?”
“Well I was saying that you couldn’t possibly be a good employee if you’re so spacey! Don’t you have a job to do?”
You raised an eyebrow, suspicious of the man. Deciding not to answer his question, you turned away, deciding to follow the weird scorch marks on the floor that Peter was standing on.
“H-hey! Where are you going?” Peter asked, alarm flaring up within him as you walked towards the front of the shop.
“Hm? No where, just following the weird tracks that you’ve been standing on.” You answered, already at the front of the store. Before you could look out the door Peter was standing in front of you, pushing you back inside. Surprised, you pushed him back. He spoke before you could ask how fast he had gotten there.
“Whoa whoa whoa! Where are you going? You can’t leave on the job, (y/n)! You don’t want to get fired, do you?”
“Honestly, I wouldn’t care…It would save me from talking to weirdos like you… ” You muttered, also teasing him while standing on your tiptoes and looking over his shoulder. Aha- right behind him was a little red wagon full of the missing twinkies. It seemed you had found your thief.
“Hey- Weirdo? I am not a weirdo! I, for your information, am a contributing member of society!” Peter scoffed, setting his hands on your shoulders. Pressure was applied and once more you stood at your normal height, the wagon hidden to your sight. Trying to ignore the weird feeling in your stomach you looked him in his…surprisingly beautiful eyes.
“Uh huh, a great member of society who steals twinkies in a little red wagon. Each twinkie box is four dollars so uh….I think that’s going to cost you about $120. Then you can properly contribute to society.” You chuckled as Peter stopped, a hand raised to point something out. You spoke first, “Ah! Hush you! Anything else you want to steal before I call the cops?”
“….Your heart?” He tried, shrugging and giving you a cheesy smile. You sighed, a smirk slowly making its way onto your tired features. Reaching for the phone, you looked back and was surprised at what you saw.
He was gone, with the twinkies, more marks on the cement in front of the building. There was a little note on the counter though, the pen rolling away from the pad.
Dear (y/n), I’m sorry for stealing the twinkies. I’m also sorry for the floors- it should come out with some bleach and a really good scrub brush. I’ll pay you back soon, I promise. And I was serious about stealing your heart, by the way.
Sincerely, Peter Maximoff, your friendly speedster.
You laughed, shaking your head. This guy was weird but…You liked him. Obviously he was a mutant but he was a nice one, you supposed. Well, Peter had given your day a little boost, so the experience wasn’t so bad. Although you did have a hard time explaining the missing twinkies to your cousin and the cops…
*********** A few months later
“And that, Logan, is how I met (y/n)(l/n)! We started dating after I paid for the twinkies.” Peter summarized, his arm over your shoulder.
“You stole…How many twinkies boxes?” Logan asked, eyebrows raised.
“30.” You both answered. You laughed- you loved him so much. Logan just sighed, shook his head, and walked away.
Toad's Cave 