Secretly Yours - Wanda Maximoff x reader

Chapter 4: On My Mind

Neon lights shone down on me, rays of bright multicolours illuminating the table where I was sat. My head pounded to the beat of the music, a colossal headache soothed only by more alcohol. Thoughts of the interview, which were supposed to be drowned by an irresponsible number of shots, still plagued my mind. And when both Sam and Peter left the bar to answer a phone call from Maximoff & Associates law firm, my hopelessness only deepened.

"I got the job," Peter announced, a giant smile stretching across half his face—the kind of goofy grin that usually incited the same reaction in me. I tried to smile back, but the alcohol coursing through my veins, along with the jealousy I tried hard to hide, made it more of a grimace. I'd really fucked it up worse than I thought.

"That's amazing, Pete! I'm happy for you."

The brunet furrowed his eyebrows sympathetically. "Thank you. Don't worry too much; I'm sure she'll be calling you soon."

Sam walked back over to the table, a telling glint of excitement in his eyes. He'd got the internship too.

"Yeah, maybe you should sober up. You might have to be partly coherent when you talk to Maximoff. You don't want her lecturing you on lateness and alcoholism," he said whilst placing a hand on my back. I brushed him off, reaching for another shot and ignoring the sceptical look on my friend's faces.

I grimaced as the golden liquid warmed the back of my throat, quickly wiping the left over drops from my lips in a hurried frenzy for more relief. My thoughts were fuzzy at the edges, but the image of Maximoff and her unrelenting smirk was clearer than ever before. I had to get her out of my mind.

"I'm not going to get a call guys. She hates me!" I frowned at my friend's sudden shift in demeanour. I didn't want to be ruin their excitement. I really was happy for them. Sure, I wished i could join their celebrations, but I knew Peter deserved the opportunity more than anyone. And although Sam was a level of wealthy and intelligent no person should be, he wasn't an asshole like my classmates, and I could see us being really good friends. I sighed. "I think it's for the best, I mean can you imagine how much I'd complain if she was my boss?"

Peter chuckled, turning his head to give Sam a knowing look. "You can't even comprehend it!"

The blond laughed, taking a sip of his drink before replying, "No more than that Flash you've told me about, I'm sure."

I groaned, rubbing my temple forcefully at the thought of him gloating about working at Maximoff & Associates the next day.

"I swear if he's actually got it, I'm going to push him down the auditorium stairs."

Peter shook his head. "If it means I'd have to work with him, I'll help you."

Sam raised his drink. "I second that. He sounds worse than all the dicks in my classes."

I nodded, he most definitely was.

I desperately didn't want to get upset, but I could feel myself losing grip of rationality and my heart seemed to get heavier by the second. I needed the job. I could pretend I didn't, I could try and talk myself into thinking it was no real loss, but I really did need it. I didn't come from money like the majority of law students at NYU do, my parents had to sacrifice a lot to get me where I was. I'd let them down. I'd let myself down, and worse of all I'd made a complete fool out of myself in front of a woman capable of ruining my whole career. Not to be dramatic or anything, but my life was literally over.

I quickly swallowed the remainder of my drink, no longer affected by the burn at the back of my throat. I was definitely going to turn up hungover at my classes the next day, but caring felt completely meaningless.

When my phone buzzed I almost fell out of my chair, my hands struggling to hold the blurry screen straight, but no matter what angle I looked at it, the text from my mum didn't turn into one from Maximoff.

A wave of shame crashed over me when I realised how selfish and immature I was being. I'd cost myself a job, and let down the parents who were desperately trying to find out how the interview had gone, not to mention the fact that I was completely ruining the night for Peter and Sam.

"Maybe you should take y/n home," Sam whispered softly to Peter who nodded in reply. He helped me get to my feet, my legs wobbly from exhaustion and my spinning brain. I tried to protest, but Sam shut me down, telling me it had been a long day, and that we'd get drinks another time.

I didn't deserve such good friends. And I most definitely didn't deserve my parent's support.

I managed to send my mum a short text before I collapsed into my bed, my aching limbs sprawled across the bedsheets. I was too tired to move, but not too tired to care. I was the kind of person who'd worry about everything, especially their future. And when mine was now so unclear, it was impossible to stop my racing mind.

Wanda Maximoff didn't think I was good enough. And for some reason, that's what bothered me the most.