Evan Peters Imagines and One Shots

Perfect Enemy - Quicksilver

The alarm that blared around me signaled it would only be a limited time before the X-Men popped up and ruined my fun. They would be in for a treat, though. I had planned this heist for months and was prepared to deal with whatever was thrown at me. My wisest move was when I disabled the cameras and set up motioned-censored boobie traps. As soon as one of them set off a trap, it would explode and alert me, and I was more than prepared to take whoever it would be down. They were in the dark about who they were dealing with, and sending anybody in without a clue of who they were fighting was an enormous risk for them. My henchmen stood outside, waiting to fight. The poor bastards. They had no clue they were only here as a distraction and to slow X-Men down so I could escape. They would get tossed like salads, but that's fewer checks that I would have to cut. Hey, I was a generous boss. I even gave them iron super suits so they could attempt to withstand the fight longer.

This heist was too easy as I cracked open the safe. You would assume with all the technology discovered over time, this wouldn't be as simple anymore. I wasn't complaining, though. It just meant I'd get home richer- and quicker. My father would be so proud of me if he could see me, but he would eventually, as my next mission would be to break him out of prison. I did a little happy dance as the safe door opened.

"You know, I'd say that was the cutest thing you've done so far if you weren't so evil," a voice said.

There's no way someone had snuck without setting off a trap. I looked down at the device that was supposed to alert me, and it found no sign of activity. I paid a lot of money for those pieces of shit, but then I guess you can't trust products made by other people who want to watch the world suffer.

"If you're wondering why the traps didn't go off. I move too quickly to set off motion sensors, but I admit, it was a foolproof plan," the voice spoke.

A gust of wind brushed against me, and the silver-haired guy stood before me with his arms crossed. He wore a sly smirk and shook his head. It was safe to say that I had found a weakness or a way to stall or defeat every one of the X-Men except the cocky silver-haired bastard in front of me. Quicksilver was my brick wall. It seemed no matter what I did, this motherfucker ran past it, then he'd mock me with his cute, dimpled smile. 

I questioned which side of the fight I should be on whenever I saw him. If being a villain wasn't in my bloodline, I would've asked him to put in my application, but I had a legacy to maintain. Plus, those bastards have my father locked up in a maximum security prison unit, which is overkill for a man who destroyed half of the city and almost started an apocalypse. People have done worse, and if that lady at the coffee shop had just given my father a croissant as he asked, many lives wouldn't have been lost. She's the real villain.

"Goddamit. It's always your ass," I exclaimed.

Listen, I could make glasses that could detect Mystique from God knows whoever she's impersonating or a hat that prevents Professor X from reading my mind, but nothing I've created has been to stop Quickie's ass, and I'm tired. He was my perfect enemy and was so damn attractive. Once, I almost got my hand lasered off by Cyclops because I was too busy watching Quicksilver fight. It was not my proudest moment. My father shunned me for days because of that.

"Ouch. That hurt. I just complimented you earlier," he mocked.

"Well, you don't understand the Hell I go through at the cost of your existence. You can't just speed past everything I create. It's unfair," I proclaimed.

"Aw, you always throw the cutest tantrums," he chuckled.

"How dare you mock me? I am not cute. I am a ball of destruction, and you will feel my wrath. Just not now because I'm probably going to jail. Fuck," I spat.

He stood there and laughed at my demise.

"What's your name," he asked.

"Oh, now, you have forgotten who I am. I am ...," I asserted.

"I remember your villain's name. I can't forget it. That's why I'm asking for your real name- your name behind the mask," he flirted.

"Just because I can't injure you, don't think I'm stupid. I'm not going tell my name so you can rat me out to your little X-men buddies, and Mystique comes to my house disguised as a mailman so you can bumrush me," I declared.

"I'm Pietro. Pietro Maximoff, but I go by Peter. Now that you know that, you could find my house and destroy it, try to attack my family, or whatever, but I'm comfortable enough to tell you because I don't think you have any ill intentions. Now you know me, and I'd like to get to know you more," he educated.

"Y/n. Y/n L/n," I answered.

"Y/n, that's cute. Great. Now, Y/n, I usually never do this because I shouldn't, but I'm taking a risk with you because I'd like to see you outside of this place. No fighting. No war. Just Y/n and Peter, would you be interested," he asked.

"Don't you think you're being very optimistic for a guy I could manipulate and kill? Hmm," I questioned.

"Y/n, we both know you can't kill me. You said it yourself earlier," he stated.

"Well, you're a good listener, and yes, I would like to see you as Peter," I responded.

"Great. I'm going to let you off. Hop on to my back, and I'll take you home. I'll tell everyone that you had already escaped beforehand," he instructed.

"Thank you, Peter," I said.

I walked over to the item that brought me here in the first.

"Do not pick up the jewel," he ordered.

I backed away from the item.

"Can't I have a souvenir of this moment," I pleaded.

"Y/n, you're pushing it," he chuckled.

"Fine," I whined.

I gathered all the items I used to break in and put them in my duffel bag.

"You know you're the X-man that used to be a thief himself," I declared.

"Oh, so you've researched me," he flirted.

"Shut up and take me home," I responded.