Secretly Yours - Wanda Maximoff x reader

Chapter 3: The Interview

I was seriously anxious. Not the kind of nerves you get when ordering from a waiter by yourself, but the ice-cold fear of being isolated in a room with the most terrifying woman on earth, trying to convince her that you're super qualified—even though you haven't ever actually been on the inside of a courtroom before.

Turns out most people, like me, were scared of being late. The waiting room was packed with people, all wearing fancy suits or dresses, putting Peter and me to shame. There were far too many familiar faces of students I knew had ten times the amount of money or connections we did.

When my twitching leg became too much for him, Peter turned to me, placing his hand on my knee and raising an eyebrow.

"Y/n, I love you, but you're really stressing me out right now."

Resorting to cracking my knuckles instead, a nervous habit I'd picked up recently, I rolled my eyes at the fed up look on his face. Peter tended to get grumpy when he was tired, and since neither of us were able to sleep much the night before, tensions were high.

"I'm sorry," I apologised with a sigh. "I don't even know why I'm here. I'm just going to embarrass myself. There's absolutely no chance I get this job. I mean, look around—do we look like competition right now."

The blond boy sitting on my left leaned over, offering us a small smirk as he whispered, "I know right. There are so many fucking nerds!"

Peter and I gave a short laugh before shaking his outstretched hand.

"So professional," I snorted, making the boy roll his eyes.

"I'm trying to practice for the interview."

"Maybe try not to crush all the bones in her hand," I joked, shaking my arm for emphasis.

He chuckled. "Oh god."

"I'm Peter."

"Y/n," I added.

"Sam, nice to meet you both. Well, as nice as waiting for your funeral can be," he said with an uneasy smile.

I glanced down at his bag to see a school lanyard poking out and tutted teasingly when I saw the logo. "You go to Columbia?"

Sam tilted his head and squinted at me, a playful glint still present in his bright blue eyes. "Don't tell me you're an NYU law student. We hate you guys!"

"The feeling is mutual," Peter shot back with a grin—a grin that quickly disappeared when Maximoff's assistant called out his name for the interview.

I quickly wished him luck with a "You've got this, but I knew he didn't need any 'words of wisdom'; he did great in everything.

I rubbed my face with my hands, groaning loudly. "I think I'm next."

Sam snorted. "I'd wish you luck, but our longstanding, ancient rivalry forbids me from doing so."

"Oh, shut up."

"I would love to say you'll be fine or that it won't kill you, but honestly, from what I've heard, anything is possible."

I stared at the boy gobsmacked. "This is not the kind of inspirational speech I was hoping for."

He straightened his blazer before shrugging. "I'll have you know I'm famous for my great speeches, but I'm serious—haven't you heard the rumours?"