SLOW DOWN // X-MEN // PETER MAXIMOFF × READER

☆ Chapter 9 ☆

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(Y/n)'s sight shifted from Peter to the door upstairs where the sound of heavy footsteps moved towards the basement.

   "So, do they look scary or what because they want you to do something really bad, like, super illegal, Peter," She harshly whispered.

   "Ooh, really?" He asked, clearly intrigued.

   (Y/n) face-palmed. "No, stop it, illegal equals bad!" The look on her face definitely expressed her concern, but Peter remained cool and collected as ever.

Then, before he could even get a word out, the door creaked open and three men made their way downstairs. (Y/n) shut her mouth and sat up straight. She decided to let Peter do the talking and, if necessary, she'd step in to speak. After all she's seen of him, he would know how to handle this- hopefully.

   From what they could tell, one of the men looked like a stereotypical 'nerd' with glasses and a lanky build. Although, he did look the most put together compared to his other two companions, both of which looked ragged in their own ways. One of the other men had longer, unruly hair with sunglasses to hide his irritated eyes. He wasn't as thin as the first man, but not as muscular as the third man either. The third stranger was tall and brutish-looking with uniquely styled hair.

   As soon as the men reached the floor, Peter started with his defense. "What do you guys want? I didn't do anything!" He moved from one side of the ping-pong table to the other before zipping over to the couch, his arm securely around (Y/n)'s shoulders. "I've been here all day, haven't I?" He asked, turning to his friend.

   "Yup," said (Y/n) with one quick nod.

   Two of the men furrowed their brows as they turned to look at the brutish man. He sighed before he spoke, struggling to figure his approach. "Relax, Peter; we're not cops."

   (Y/n) shifted her eyes to Peter. 'How does he know your name?' She telepathically asked.

   'Pft, beats me,' he replied. Peter then scoffed at them. "Of course you're not cops. If you were cops, you wouldn't be using a rental car."

   The disheveled man scrunched his nose. "How do you know we've got a rental-"

   "I checked your registration when you were walking through the door. I also had some time to kill, so I went through your rental agreement and saw you were from out of town. Are you FBI?" Peter got up from the couch and ended up across the room with the man's wallet in his hands, flipping through its contents. "No, you're not cops." He squinted as he inspected a peculiar buisness card tucked away in the leather folds. "Hey, what's up with this 'Gifted Youngsters' place?"

Peter zoomed back to the couch but, this time, with a double-stick cherry popsicle in his hand. He skillfully broke it into two and handed one half to (Y/n), while keeping the other half for himself. Though surprised, she gladly accepted the treat, popping it into her mouth as she continued to observe.

   "That's an... old card," said the man, stuffing the wallet back into his pocket. He didn't even realize how it ended up in his possession again.

   The nerdy man smiled in amusement and turned to his companions. "Well, he's fascinating!" His eyes lit up at the sight of Peter who was almost finished with his popsicle.

   "He's a pain in the ass," said the Sunglasses.

   "What, a teleporter?"

   "No, he's just fast and when I knew him he wasn't so... young," said the Brute.