Evan Peters Imagines and One Shots

Flowers- Quicksilver

I walked out of my apartment building to head to the laundromat down the block since our dryer had broken. I didn't want to, but my mom said she'll give me a hundred bucks if I did. Needless to say that I've been struggling with this heavy-ass clothes hamper for a minute. My back started to ache viciously, but for a hundred dollars, it could break for all I cared.

Besides the weight and pain, the only other thing I was worried about was walking to the laundromat without bumping into anyone or dropping any clothes. Surprisingly no one was walking down the sidewalk. As I made my way down the empty sidewalk, I got knocked over. I practically flew across the path due to the impact. I could have sworn I didn't see him coming.

"Ow, " we both shrieked.

The clothes had flown everywhere. Goddamn it. I got up from the sidewalk and looked at the silver-haired man who was still lying on the floor.

"Fuck, " he groaned to himself.

He brought his eyes to me and quickly recovered as he got up and started to dust himself off. I glared at him as I picked up my clothes hamper and started picking up clothes.

"Hey, oh, sorry, " he apologized, "I was running and didn't see you. Let me help you get this up?"

I sighed to myself, "No you don't have to, I-."

He had already picked up everything before I finished my sentence and filled the hamper in one blink. What the fuck? How the fuck? What?

"H-how did you do that, " I asked him, "You just did that in a second."

"It's sort of a special talent that I have, " The man grinned, "The name's Pietro, but most people call me Peter. And you are?"

"Fucking confused, " I spat, "I didn't see you running, but you bumped into me, then you did that. Is this real?"

"Pretty sure, " Peter chuckled, "And again, I'm so sorry about that. If you want, I could wash those for you too."

"You don't have to, " I began to say, "How did you do that?"

He had done it again, in a split second my clothes had been washed and folded into the hamper. The freshly washed scent blessed my nose. He smiled as he patted the neatly prepped clothes.

"There," he nodded his head, "No wait."

Once again, he disappeared and came back instantly. This time with a bouquet. He held the flowers close to his nose and sniffed them.

"This is for you, " he smiled as he handed the flowers over to me, "I feel like that's enough of an apology. Now can I get your name?"

"Y/n," I answered, "Thanks"

"No problem, " He winked at me, "If ever need some done quickly, my number is on the bouquet."

He was gone again, this time for good. I stared at the tag on the flowers he had gotten me. Pietro Maximoff.  What the hell just happened?