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Time Thought To Have No End: Peter Maximoff x Reader

DAY ONE.

The lights in the small bar flickered, a groan coming out of the bartenders mouth. He shook his head in aggravation, putting the towel he was using to wipe the counter away, leaving through the door that was located right next to the bar. Your fingers tapped on the water glass you had in your hands. You weren't drinking, you couldn't. Even though you felt like you needed one, you know it wouldn't be a smart choice, seeing the situation you're in.

You winced as voices flooded through your head, your hands whipping to your forehead, noises indicating you were in pain escaping your lips.

When your parents found out you were a mutant, they treated your horribly. They became emotionally and physically abusive, every day a horror for you.

So, you had come to a decision. You were going to run away from home. It was the only solution.

You slowly removed your hands from your forehead, setting one on the bar, the other rubbing your temple. You wiped the tear that had fallen down your cheek away, sighing when you felt someone sit next to you.

"A beer, please."

You had no interest in looking at the man next to you, for all you know if you so much as glanced at him he would try to hit on you.

You took deep breaths, biting own hard on your lip, trying not to make a scene, but the feeling was back again. The voices, the pain in your head, the goosebumps you got down your spine and the shivers you felt in your ribs, you couldn't get rid of that damn feeling.

You had looked up the symptoms to what you were feeling, hoping to find some explanation.

The voice in your head made you shake in fear, closing your eyes tightly and turning your head to the other side of you. The only things you got when you looked it up was mutation. You never thought you could be a mutant, you just, you just couldn't.

But you were.

When you did more research on it, you found something out, what you had. You were a necromancer.

"You alright?" The man next to you spoke, and you whipped your head around to look at him. The boy had silver hair and beautiful brown eyes, a sympathetic look on his face. He was rather handsome.

"Yeah-yeah! I'm fine." You lied, fumbling with your fingers, a fake smile plastered on your face. He nodded hesitantly, holding his hand out. "I'm Peter."

You looked him up and down before you shook his hand, raising your brow.

"Y/N."

DAY THREE.

You told Peter the story this day, two days after you met him. He was the only person there, the only person you felt comfortable with.

WEEK ONE AND A HALF.

The raindrops poured on the tops of houses, laughs escaping you and Peter's lips as you ran through the rain, your hands intertwined. You stopped as you reached Peter's house, where you were staying. You stopped laughing for a moment, staring up at Peter.

A small smile was on his face, his head tilted to the side like a puppy. You smiled, pulling him in for a quick hug. Once you pulled away, he looked at you with a confused expression. "What was that for?" He chuckled.

You rested your forehead on his, the side of your lips curling into a smile. "For being the nicest guy in the world."

Those eight words made Peter's heart flutter, the biggest, dopiest grin spreading on his face, His hand rubbed circles on your cheek, pulling you closer.

"Can I... can I kiss you?" His words were soft, serious. You nodded slowly, watching him as his face inched closer shyly, closing the space between you two for a kiss.

MONTH SIX.

"Have you seen me?"

The poster crumpled in your hands, falling into the trash bin next to you. "I can't believe those damned jerks are looking for me." You hissed, your arms crossed against your chest. Peter merely shrugged. "I dunno. They were idiots to treat you like that, but I can see why they're looking for you. Doesn't mean you should go back to them, though. That would be stupid." He pointed out, causing you to chuckle.

"Don't even dare think about me leaving, 'cause I won't."

If only that were true.

MONTH TEN.

Almost a year.

You had been with Peter for almost a year.

The posters started appearing everywhere. You couldn't go out, not knowing someone could recognize you and call your family. You couldn't.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, trying your best not to make a sound. Peter was sound asleep on his bed, cuddling a pillow. You let out a small laugh at the sight, a sight you would never see again.

You smiled, a tear falling on your lip, a pain in your heart. You didn't want to leave him, but it wasn't your choice. It was the only way.

You put the last item in your bag, standing up and walking towards the door. You turned back to Peter, biting down hard on your lip, staring at the boy. The boy you were madly in love with.

The first time you told him you were in love with him was three months after you first kissed. A memory you would always keep in mind.

The tears that streamed down his cheeks, the way he choked out his words.

"I love you too. So much."

The thought of that made your heart ache more, but you had to do this, for his safety.

Your hand grasped the door knob, looking back at him one more time.

"Goodbye Peter."