Secretly Yours - Wanda Maximoff x reader

Chapter 5: Hungover

Hangovers suck. Being at school with a hangover is even worse, and having the most infuriating, entitled asshole point out the fact that you're hungover in class is rock bottom.

Fortunately for me, that was the exact situation I found myself in.

By the time I dragged myself to class, trailing after an enthusiastic Peter, all the chairs at the back of the lecture hall were taken, forcing us to sit in the row behind Flash. Of course, he'd turned around and laughed when he saw me. Honestly, I didn't blame him. My hair was scraped into a messy bun, and in my rush to get ready, I hadn't had time to put on makeup. My pounding head added to the sour expression on my face, and my will to live had completely evaporated.

"You look like shit."

My gaze snapped to him, my eyebrows furrowing so deeply they almost imprinted on my skull. "I swear to god Flash, don't talk to me right now."

He smirked, a cocky grin that made my insides churn and my fists clench. "Are you really that upset about not getting the internship? I mean, really, y/n? I thought it was obvious you wouldn't get it in the first place."

Peter had to put a hand on my shoulder to stop me from jumping out of my chair and slamming Flash to the ground. He knew exactly what he was saying was working, and that angered me even more.

"Of course, I got the internship. Because unlike you, I'm actually destined to be a lawyer. But I'd be happy to let you be my assistant if you'd like. You could fetch me coffee, clean up my messes, you know, do things you're actually capable of."

I bit my tongue so hard I could taste blood. His words were ridiculous—a pathetic excuse for an insult—but they twisted into long fingers that wrapped around my heart, squeezing so tightly every dream I'd ever had about my future flashed before my eyes. A fading wish of what I wanted to be.

The door slammed open, ripping me from the clutch of my own doubt. Suddenly, I no longer focused on Flash, my empty heart, or broken dreams. My eyes were glued to her. Anger settled in my chest, and I had to dig my fingers into the chair to release the tension. I was a rope about to snap, fraying twine and thread seconds away from breaking.

Her heels beat against the steps as she made her way down to the stage. Every head turned as she walked past, no one daring to look away—except me. I figured the best way to get through the lesson, was to pretend it wasn't even happening.

It was just my luck that after making the effort to turn up for Mrs. Abel's lesson, she wasn't even the one teaching us. If I knew I'd have to see her again, I wouldn't even have considered going.

Maximoff stopped at the front. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her let out a sigh, like she was already disappointed.

"I was told by Mrs. Abel that you were one of the best classes she's ever taught. She's convinced that a lot of you have what it takes to succeed in this profession." She turned her head slightly in my direction and I looked down at the desk, desperate to stay away from her gaze. "She's wrong."

I slowly rubbed my temple, trying to relieve my brain from both a migraine and the reality check I didn't need. She really knew how to bring a room down a few notches.

"After interviewing most of you yesterday, to say I'm disappointed is an understatement. It's astounding how unprofessional and talentless some of you are."

I lifted my head to stare at the woman in disbelief. In that moment I truly believed she was capable of actual murder. If she could so easily kill the hopes and dreams of everyone in the room, surely slicing the throat of her own competitor would be nothing.

She tilted her head back, exposing the smooth skin of her neck, and her lips parted to release a small chuckle. "Could any of you even tell me what the term 'pro bono' means?"

I was almost one hundred percent sure she was asking a rhetorical question, but when Flash cleared his throat to answer, I braced myself for the worst. Someone like him would never understand what it's like to struggle with money. He had more of it than he could count.

"That's simple. It's when lawyers take on cases for free, you know, to help poor people or something. It's all about good PR, right? They just want to look good in front of everyone. The company profits, they're seen as heroes; who wouldn't want to be a hero for free?"

He leaned back confidently, completely missing the glint of disgust in Maximoff's eyes.

I shook my head and clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle a laugh. He'd completely missed the point, and Maximoff's unacknowledged frown was just the cherry on top.

The CEO tilted her head, possibly unimpressed or just intrigued by my reaction. "Care to share what you find so funny, Miss y/l/n?"

I bit my lip hard to stop giggling, wiping fake tears from eyes as I spoke. "It's just... he couldn't be more wrong. It's more than looking good. 'Pro bono' work means providing legal services voluntarily without charge, but it's rooted in the idea of giving back to the community and ensuring that everyone has access to legal representation, regardless of their financial situation—something I'm sure Flash has never thought about it his life. An actually good lawyer would understand that it's not just about PR; it's about making a real difference in people's lives." My eyes locked with hers, mixing with her emerald green as I finished. "A CEO who wants to have the most successful law firm wouldn't just hire the most intelligent, or confident people; they would look for employees whose ambition is based in the morals of helping others, not themselves. And to be honest, I'm disappointed that most aren't doing that."

The room went silent, the only sound being the beating of my heart and the catching of breath in my throat. For a second, I thought she might throw me out of the class. I was sure my not-so-subtle dig at her own professionalism wouldn't go unnoticed, but I should have known she was more psychotic than that. The edges of her lips tilted upwards as she turned to move on with the class, her hands moving swiftly as she went on to explain the future lectures she'll be giving throughout the year. She didn't give me a second glance after that, but I knew I'd given her exactly what she wanted. I'd played along with her game, and I was finally starting to win.