Peter Maximoff/Quicksilver Imagines

Stealing Hearts

You can't help the broad grin as you casually walk through the mall. The stores are packed, which makes it more than easy to brush up against a rich, unsuspecting stranger and "accidentally" snatch their wallets as you pass by. You've been stealing things for what feels like forever, and you've never once been caught.

Finally, you're satisfied with your latest acquisitions and stroll out of the mall, blinking in the bright sunlight. You've only walked a few feet when you see something that catches your eye in the alluring way that all valuables do- a large, silver ring on the finger of a woman walking by. She's just a few feet away from you, and when she takes it off to try on a pair of recently purchased gloves you can see all the details carved into the metal. You know at once you must have it.

Casually, you stroll by the woman, hand poised to pluck the ring off the wall where it's been temporarily placed. Just as you're about to grab it, though, the strangest thing happens- it disappears right before your eyes. You blink confusedly, yet the ring is gone. Then, across the street, you see a silver-haired boy admiring a ring in his hand. It must be the same one- but how did he get there and back that quickly?

The details don't matter, you're too caught up in your annoyance that the boy stole the ring before you did. So, you nonchalantly cross the street, pretending to pay no attention to the silver-haired boy. He looks away for the ring for just a second, which is his mistake. The second his head is turned, you slip the ring from his fingers and walk away, pretending nothing happened. You tuck the ring quietly into your jacket pocket, and continue on down the street.

Soon enough, you hear an angered shout behind you, and suddenly the boy is right in front of you. "You took it, didn't you? Give it back?" You feign confusion. "Give what back? I don't know what you're talking about." The boy glares at you. "Yes, you do. The silver ring, the one I rightfully stole, which is in your jacket pocket." You look at him thoughtfully. "How about you tell me how you stole a ring from across the street?"

He gives you a questioning look in return, then nods in approval. "Sure. Ring first." You sigh and drop it into his outstretched palm. "Thank you." The boy's voice is dripping with false gratitude. "My name is Peter. Peter Maximoff." "Y/N L/N." You answer in return. "Well, Y/N, I was able to steal the ring because I happen to be the best thief on these streets." You laugh incredulously at his confidence. "Is that why I was able to steal the ring from you?"

Peter pretends to be hurt, and playfully throws an arm around your shoulders. "That was just a coincidence. It usually never happens." You grin at him. "Yet, it did. And you know what, I have an idea for you." Peter raises his eyebrows. "What would that be?" You stop walking and spin around to face him. "I say we work together to steal whatever we want. You could use my help in not being completely obvious and maybe you could tell me what your secret is. What do you say?" Peter tilts his head to the sky as if thinking this through, then agrees. "I think you just want to spend time with me." He winks at your indignant protests, and before you know it, he is gone.

You feel a sudden weight on your hand and you pull it out of your pocket to find the silver ring glinting on your finger. You look back behind you, but there's no sign of Peter anywhere. You smile suddenly, admiring the ring. Who is this boy?

Well, it turns out Peter Maximoff is much more interesting than you thought. First of all, he's a terrible flirt, and you find yourself laughing over many attempts to win you over. Second, the two of you are an incredible pair, and you're able to relieve many stores and passersby of goods that interest you. Finally, Peter is able to get away with most of his stunts because he is a mutant.

When he first told you, after you'd known him for at least a month, he'd seemed scared to hear your reply. This was most unlike him, as Peter seemed to have this unquenchable positive spirit. The fact that he was staring at his shoes, the usual smirk gone from his face and his usual cocky stance reduced to a mere lean against the wall told you that this was the one truth he was afraid to tell you. Your friendship was very important to him, and he was worried that if you knew he was a mutant, you would leave him out of fear.

Luckily for Peter, this was not at all the case. You had simply swatted him on the shoulder and told him that it made sense that he'd need magic powers to keep up with you. His laughter was indignant and loud as always, but behind it there were the silent words he didn't have to say: Thank you for understanding.

You and Peter often hung out at each other's houses, too, on days when the weather was a miserable rain or when neither of you really felt like going anywhere. When Peter opens his front door to reveal you standing on the front step, he assumes it's just another one of these days, but one look at you tells him otherwise.

You look terrified, breathing heavily like you've run a marathon. You're also wearing a thick jacket, which you have firmly wrapped around you, despite it being the middle of a scorching hot day in August. "What is it?" Peter asks, ushering you inside. You can't say a word, just shake your head worriedly.

The second you and Peter get down to his basement, you drop down on the sofa, shaking. "Peter, I don't know what's happening. It just started today- I was at home, and then-" Peter takes your trembling hands, gently stopping their frantic movement. "What happened? What's wrong?" You look at him through eyes wide with panic, then take your jacket off.

Instantly, Peter sees the problem. Your entire body is glowing with some strange sort of light, starting from your heart and spreading down your arms. You study your illuminated hands, shaking your head as if you can't believe what you see. "I don't know how to control it, it just started happening." Peter nods slowly. "You're a mutant now. Like me."

He sits down next to you, taking your hands in his. "When I first started getting my powers, it freaked me out too. I get it. If you want to control them, you're going to have to focus." He delicately closes your eyes with his fingertips. "Just breathe, with me. In and out, slowly." You let yourself relax, hanging on to the sound of Peter's voice with all the desperation of a drowning sailor. In and out, in and out.

Before you know it, Peter's telling you to look at your hands. You open your eyes hesitantly, and are amazed by what you see. The glow has died down from your body, leaving only your hands illuminated. Fascinated, you raise one to eye level, and with just a thought, you're able to control the strength of the light and even make a tiny sphere of light appear in your hand. You look at Peter, giggling at the sheer joy you feel at being able to control your powers. "It's amazing, isn't it?" You nod in agreement.

Peter is definitely a big help with your powers. There are many times when you feel like you might accidentally lose control in public, and he's always there to help you calm down and regain focus. You're not sure what you would do without him, and to be honest, you don't want to know.

Your powers actually come in handy during your little shoplifting excursions, too. All it takes is one quick flash of light to block a camera, and you and Peter have already taken everything you want from a store. After one of these occasions, the two of you lie comfortably on the grass, drinking stolen lemonade and admiring your newest belongings.

"You know, I think this whole mutant thing has worked out pretty well for the two of us. We can get whatever we want, and whenever we want it." You laugh at that. "I'm pretty sure that our abilities can be used for more than just stealing stuff, you know." Peter rolls his eyes at that, then turns to you, suddenly serious.

"Actually, there's one thing I've always wanted to have. I've never been able to get it, though, no matter how fast I run." You sit up, propping your head up on one arm. "That surprises me. What valuable is that?" A joking smile crosses Peter's face, and he whispers one word.

"You."

He kisses you once, and you're so surprised that you can't even say a word. Peter grins once more, then gets up as if he's about to quickly leave as usual. You grab his shoulder before he can go, and pull him back down to you. "Not so fast, Peter. Maybe you can steal my heart, but you can't expect that I won't take yours too."