Liberal Arts - Chapter 2 - Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Summary: A new job at New York University should be a fresh start. Things don't go as planned when you fall in love with one of your students. || Request by @ecruzsalaz
Warnings: (18+), explicit language, smut, dom!reader and bottom wanda, heavy angst with happy ending, cursing, secret/forbidden relationship, teasing, romanticism, legal age gap.
A/N: I would like to thank everyone who left their opinions in the first part. And wish good luck to deal with the angst that will remain before their happy ending. By the way, flashbacks in italic. Also, i'm having issues with the tag list, tumblr hates me.
All Works Masterlist || Series Chapters || AO3
Chapter Two - Paris and Cheap Wine
New York, Present Day
Your mural is finished.
After so long of working on it, you have really done it.
You called Natasha as soon as you realized it, and she showed up at your apartment still in her pajamas.
"I was going to complain that you woke me up early, but this looks incredible." She comments as soon as she enters the room. And then jumps on your neck to hug you. "Congratulations, darling! I knew you'd make it."
You laugh, spinning her around the room before letting go.
"I can't believe it." You speak contentedly. "I really did it."
The problem is that staring at the mural for a few seconds, you realize that there is someone else you would like to show this to. To whom you cannot.
Natasha immediately notices your change in posture, and puts her hand on your shoulder. "Hey, what's up?"
You clear your throat, pushing the emotion away. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine. I'm just still out of orbit. I think I've been without sleep for too many hours."
"Then go to bed!" She practically orders, pushing you by the shoulders toward your room. "I'll stick around, and when you wake up we'll celebrate at a fancy restaurant."
"Yes, boss." You sneer, making her laugh.
A good night, or in this case, afternoon of sleep, should chase away the bitter feeling in your stomach. Or at least you let yourself believe that as you lay your head on the pillow.
Fortunately after so many weeks, your bed no longer smelled of Wanda.
New York, two months ago.
You think you are living in a hidden paradise.
After what happened in the darkroom, you and Wanda haven't been able to keep your hands off each other.
The first dinner in your apartment ended with hot kisses on the kitchen counter, which turned into intimate touches on your bed.
Wanda didn't leave until Sunday evening.
You spent the whole day together, locked in a bubble of intimacy in your apartment.
She made love to you in the morning, and had breakfast in your bed. You looked at pictures, and talked about everything and nothing cuddled up on the sofa.
She came in your mouth on the kitchen counter when you went to prepare lunch, and you had to order take-out because you completely forgot about the stove when you tasted her.
In the afternoon she stayed on your lap on the sofa, warm touches and kisses until you came with the friction of her hips against yours, and she looked at you with adoration.
Until she needed to leave, and you promised it wouldn't be the last time.
And it really wasn't.
It was still a secret, still wasn't supposed to happen, and yet, you would meet every day.
Stolen glances during classes, hidden touches when she visited you after the last period.
The danger of being caught in make-out sessions in the dark room or the empty classroom made it all the more exciting.
And because it was so good, it had to come to an end at some point.
The first rays of reality began to appear as soon as the winners of the spring competition were announced.
You were smiling when you told the class, more covertly than when you read the envelope before class.
But not everyone was happy when you read the name Maximoff aloud.
"What a surprise. If I was sleeping with the teacher I would win as well." One of the girls in the back commented loudly, and the room exploded into a buzz.
But the Dean was also present for the announcement of the winner, and raised his voice. "I would be very careful with that kind of unfounded accusation, Miss Watson."
You couldn't relax after that, even though the girl said that it was just a joke, you didn't smile when you handed the invitation envelope to the competition to Wanda, and ended class early.
When she tried to ask you out, you said you were busy.
You were able to keep your distance for two whole weeks, substantiating the argument that you were busy with work.
Wanda was going to travel to Seattle for the competition, and you weren't prepared to accompany her.
When rumors circulated that you tried to talk to the Dean, asking him to accompany the winner instead of you, she showed up at your door.
"Wanda, this is not a good time." You spoke in a tired voice as you opened the door, but she walked past you angrily and entered.
You sighed, closing the door and turning to her.
She hesitated as she noticed the mess in your apartment.
To occupy your mind and not think about her, you sank into building your photo mural.
Your apartment was a complete mess. There were pictures scattered on the floor, on the walls, books on the subject open and lying around. Torn pages that you ripped out in frustration. Bottles of energy drinks and pizza boxes.
You leaned against the wall, hands in your pockets, unable to face her.
You wondered if she was capable of saying that this mess was just a representation of how you really felt.
And by the way she took a deep breath, and eased her expression, she did.
"Why are you pushing me away?"
She asked in a weak voice, and you sniffled.
Sliding against the wall, you hugged your knees. "I can't do this anymore, Wanda."
She choked, and moved closer, lowering herself to the same height as you. "Don't say that." She begged. "We can-"
"Keep hiding?" You cut in with a whiny voice. "I can't. I won't."
"Then say you're with me." She asks, touching your forearm. "Please. We can do this. I'll sign whatever I need, I'll admit whatever I have to admit. I just want to be with you."
You let out an incredulous laugh, feeling your eyes fill with tears. "And what about the competition? My job? Wanda, we've been having sex for months. I'll be accused of being impartial, you'll be disqualified. They can fire me, you can be suspended. What would your father do if he knew? I bet he would forbid you to study photography after a scandal like this."
She shakes her head, trying to hold your hands, but you pull away, standing up. She follows you. "Please, we can figure this out. I may not be exactly independent, but Dad wouldn't stop paying for my course! I would tell him the truth, and he would understand!"
You give an incredulous laugh. "Gonna tell him you're fucking your teacher? Yeah, I'm sure he'd be very supportive."
"Stop talking like that!" She shouts back in a whiny voice. "You talk like it's just sex."
"Isn't it?" You return bitterly, ignoring the way the phrase sickens you. Wanda looks at you as if you've just slapped her.
"Is that what you think?"
"What I think is that it's over." You return. "And that it should never have happened in the first place."
She remains silent, looking at you in shock.
You hold back your tears, but she lets hers flow.
"I really thought you would never hurt me." She confesses next, and then wipes her tears away. "Good-bye, Miss Y/L/N."
With your empty apartment, you collapsed.
You think you cried yourself to sleep.
All you know is that you woke up on the carpet, smelling coffee.
"What are you doing here?" You asked as you noticed the red headed figure in your kitchen. Nat sighed, taking her attention away from the teapot to look at you.
"It's Monday. When you didn't show up, and Wanda came into my class with puffy eyes, I connected the dots."
You felt a desperate urge to cry at hearing her name, and you crawled onto the couch, sinking your face into the cushions.
"I let her go, Nat."
"Why on earth would you do that?" She questioned in surprise, walking out of the kitchen. "I thought it was just a bad fight."
You sniffled, hugging one of the pillows.
"Check my desk, third drawer." You muttered exhausted, and Nat frowned in confusion, but followed your instructions.
She let out an exclamation as she found the threatening letters. Anonymous messages, promises of exposure about your hidden relationship. Some had photographs of you and Wanda in moments not as hidden as you thought. One was even from the day you drove her down the street to the dorm, and she kissed you before you left.
"Y/N, that's blackmail." Natasha spoke earnestly, returning the stack of cards to the table. "We can go to the police and-"
You interrupted with a wry laugh. "You know what happened last week?" You began, settling back against the couch.
Nat sighed, denying it with his head. You had a sad smile on your lips.
"Clint Bartoon dropped out of the course." You say. "Erik followed through with the lawsuit, even though Pietro insisted it was an accident. I heard that his parents had to mortgage their house to bankroll the costs now that he is on trial for attempted murder."
"Y/N, I know that was horrible but-"
"What do you think Erik would do if someone published those pictures?" You interrupt, "Because I'm sure he would say that I was corrupting his daughter, and abusing my power. Honestly, that's not even about this job anymore. Wanda is only 22 years old. Her father would end any chance of her becoming a great photographer. And I can't allow that."
"Is that why you broke up with her?"
You sigh, wiping away your tears. "I should never have let that happen, Nat. The risk we took, god. I should have stayed away."
"You weren't doing anything wrong." She insists. "Y/N, we can't control who we fall in love with!"
You laughed humorlessly. "Love is for children, Nat."
She sighed, in defeat. "You know I just say that for the sake of saying it. It's not true."
"Maybe it is." You returned. "All I did was hurt her. And risk her future. And for what? To have her naked in my bed."
Nat shakes her head, reaching up to hold your hand. "Don't do that." She says. "Don't try to minimize what it all meant to you. I've never seen you as happy as you've been in the last few weeks. You even went back to drawing."
You cried again, and Nat hugged you tightly.
But you didn't go back on your word. Natasha didn't try to insist, but assured you that she would find out who was sending the threatening letters, even though you had asked her to let the matter die.
Wanda went to Seattle alone, and Natasha found the blackmailer.
"I hope you understand the gravity of this situation, Professor Y/L/N." The Dean warned you as you, Nat, and Emma Frost sat in his office.
"Of course I do, Fury." You said. And you were exhausted.
When was the last time you had slept properly? You can't even remember.
Sleeping in your bed became impossible with the smell of Wanda impregnated into the sheets, and the couch was too uncomfortable.
"Just as your relationship is against regulations, blackmail is a crime punishable by imprisonment." He continues and this time looks at the young woman next to you, who has her legs crossed and a neutral expression, "I understand that we can come to an agreement between both sides."
Natasha spoke for you, and was quite annoyed. "Of course we can. Miss Frost keeps her mouth shut and we don't send her to jail!"
"Or I'll post everything online and expose the true face of the mayor's little perfect girl!" Returns the blonde bitterly. "Besides, she didn't even deserve to win that contest."
You sigh, rubbing your forehead. Your head was exploding.
"Emma, your picture wasn't chosen because there was a spot of light in the right corner." You commented quietly. "No judge would pick such an amateurish photo. Don't try to take your lack of talent out on Wanda or myself."
"This is a good time for us to stop accusing each other and settle this civilly." Dean Fury directed.
Emma was really upset by your comment, and you almost felt bad.
Fortunately, you guys came to an agreement. Not so good, but it was better than no agreement at all.
She deleted the images she had, and signed a confidentiality agreement. You signed a liability waiver, guaranteeing that your brief relationship with Wanda was over. Also, you were not going to judge the next photo contest, the upcoming European competition.
You knew that this was only the first step towards a future resignation. And of course the entire faculty learned about this over the course of the week, but you didn't have the patience to deal with it. And no one seemed willing to counter Fury and Natasha's warning glares of silence on the matter.
"Hey, do you wanna grab some food?" Nat asked as soon as you left the Dean's office.
"No, I'm going home." You spoke, forcing a smile to try to reassure her that you were okay. "I need to finish up a few things and I'm going to try to get some sleep."
Nat hugged you by the shoulders. "Sweetheart, everything is going to be fine now."
You tried to believe her.
Your apartment was better since the last time Wanda had been in it.
Thanks to Nat, who insisted that sinking into the mess would only make you feel worse, and helped you tidy up and clean in one weekend. It was great that she lived upstairs, since if you started to drown in your memories with Wanda in that small space, she would let you stay at her place for a while.
But today she had some appointments with Yelena in town, and you sank your face into the only pillowcase that still smelled faintly of Wanda's shampoo.
Your tears wet the fabric as soon as the memories floated through your mind.
"What's that mural for?" She asked, wearing only a shirt of yours, on one of the many afternoons she sneaked into her apartment.
You took your eyes off the tests you were correcting, and looked at her standing in front of your unfinished mural.
"The European competition." You clarified. "It's my application."
"That sounds so important." She commented with a smile, making you chuckle.
"Well, you'll be able to participate in the amateur category if you want too." You say. "But for graduated photographers, the application is more demanding, so to speak."
"My, my, how professional you sound talking like that." She jokes, moving closer to sit on your lap, her hands intertwined behind your neck.
You laugh, hugging her waist. "You mean old?"
She shakes her head, stealing a kiss from you. "Experienced."
"Another word for old."
"You talk like you're fifty." She returns with a chuckle, and you begin to run your hands up the inside of her blouse.
"No, but thirty-two is far enough from twenty two don't you think?"
She almost loses her line of thought as she feels your fingers teasing her nipples, but she swallows dryly and replies, "I think it’s just perfect timing."
You just giggle, shaking your head. The next time you kiss her, you don't stop.
Gasping away from the memories, you force yourself to stand.
You still have to submit your application to the European Competition, and you go back to the room to do so.
As you frame the camera to take the picture of the mural, you daydream again.
Wanda is lying against your chest, analyzing your features with her fingertips.
"And what happens if you win your super important competition?" She asks in a whisper, and you blink a few times away from the way you were lost in her gaze to answer.
"Trips." You reply. "Paris in the first round."
You smile, stroking your back. "I guess so."
"Would you go alone?" she asks, letting slip between her curiosity, a trace of jealousy, which makes your smile widen.
"Why? Do you know anyone who likes photography and all-expenses-paid trips to the most romantic city in the world?"
She laughs, pausing the touches against your cheek. "Yeah, I think I know a person or two."
You smile, and kiss her tenderly. She sighs against your lips, shifting to wrap a leg around your body and sit against your hips.
You think you'll never get tired of the feeling of kissing her.
When she breaks the kiss again, she rests her hands on your ribs, looking at you adoringly.
"Can you imagine us in Paris?" She asks, her voice a little hoarse. You rest your hands on her thighs, biting back a smile. "We could walk around the city. I could..."
"What?" You ask when it looks like she won't complete the sentence, noticing the way her cheeks turn red.
"I could hold your hand in public."
Your heart breaks and mends at the same time. "Wanda I-"
"No, it's okay." She assures forcing a smile, her hips fit against yours and you gasp softly. "I don't want to let the mood down. I just want us to make each other feel good."
You frown slightly at her phrase. "You don't have to worry about that, Wanda. You don't have to try to please me all the time. It's okay if we fight, or if we have serious conversations."
She bites her lip and forces her hips down. You choke and she smiles, "I like it better when we do other things."
But you wanted her to know you were serious, so you raised your hands to her waist and stopped her movements. She let out a grumble, but you smiled, lifting your body to bring your faces closer together.
"I mean it, you little brat." You tenderly let her know, even though Wanda blushed at the nickname. "You can always tell me if something is bothering you. I won't be mad or anything."
She stares at you a moment, and then nods, hugging you by the shoulders, and sighing. You hug her back.
It feels more intimate than any sex.
Wanda pulls away to rest her forehead against yours; "I want to go to Paris with you."
You smile, closing your eyes. "I can't wait."
The click of the flash scares you out of the memories.
You realize that you started to cry again, but you push the feeling away, and sit down at your computer, ready to review the photos before uploading them.
New York, one month ago
You had a congratulatory envelope in your hand, opened and crumpled.
And a half-empty bottle of wine in the other.
Sitting in front of the television, but it was not even on.
Four hours before, you got the news you had been waiting to hear since you started taking pictures.
"Miss Y/L/N, we are pleased to inform you that you have qualified for the 34th edition of the European International Photography Competition."
The letter came in the mail, Natasha was looking out the window of her own apartment in the teachers' housing complex waiting for you to get the news, and you looked up with the biggest smile of all and she let out an excited shout that probably woke up the whole building.
She took you to celebrate at the local pub, and it was the best thing for an hour and a half.
Until some young people from the university arrived, and among them you recognized Wanda's brown hair.
You turned the shot in one go. Nat said something about going to a different bar, and you were about to say yes, until you noticed that Wanda was not alone.
A tall guy you didn't know, a little older than her. Maybe even older than you, had an arm around her. He was handsome, wearing expensive, shiny clothes.
They looked like a magazine couple, barely matching their surroundings.
"I gotta go." You breathlessly warned, leaving the bar so quickly that Nat barely had time to call you back.
As she hurried to pay the bill, you left, and felt all the booze turn in your stomach.
You ended up throwing up on the corner of the pub, and were crying when Nat finally found you, patting you on the back.
"Maybe they were just friends, dear." She tried but your tears wouldn't stop.
Nat left you at home, and you thought you needed more wine to push the pain away.
And you ended up on the living room floor, crumpled acceptance letter in hand.
Natasha returned with your dinner, and sighed as she noticed your condition.
"Honey, I told you to go to bed and not to drink again." She speaks, but you ignore her, letting out a sad laugh that turns into a sob halfway through.
She goes to the kitchen to drop off the food she brought, and you laugh again.
“What is so funny?”
She asks, thinking it best not to try to reason with your alcoholic version.
You laugh and cry at the same time, letting the wine bottle go down and watching the liquid stain your carpet.
Nat doesn't notice because her back is turned, serving the food.
"I told my student that he couldn't send pictures of his girlfriend to a serious contest." You suddenly confess between one laugh and another. "And that's exactly what I did with the most important competition out there."
Nat frowns in confusion, and takes her attention off her plates to look at you. "Honey, what are you talking about?" She questioned, and you only cried harder. Nat continued. "It wasn't your mural that-"
"Fuck that mural!" You interrupted, grabbing the bottle next to you and throwing it against the pictures all at once.
The wine soaked and stained almost the entire mural, ruining the photos, and Nat let out a loud exclamation. "Y/N, that's your life's work! What are you doing...?"
You sobbed, sinking your face into the carpet. "Wanda was my life, Nat. I can't do this without her." You confessed tearfully, finding it hard to breathe.
Nat came up quickly, lowered herself to the floor, and hugged you tightly.
She stroked your hair until you stopped crying, whispering that one day the pain would subside.
Dinner got cold, and you fell asleep in your bestfriend arms.
Your migraine was unbearable in the morning, but there were two aspirin on the side of your bed.
"You have two periods, you'd better hurry." Natasha warned. God, had she really spent the night?
You were apologizing even before you took the pills, but she shook her head.
"Don't do that." She says. "You know you've done much more than this for me."
"Friends through sickness and health." You joked before drinking the medicine. She laughed, and threw a set of clean clothes over your legs on the bed.
"Come on, shower. You stink of alcohol."
She prepared delicious eggs with bacon while you were in the bathroom.
And you looked decent, despite all the emotional misery, when you appeared in the kitchen.
"Can we talk about what you told me yesterday?"
You stretched. "What exactly did I say?"
Nat sighed, and nodded toward the living room.
Only now, noticing the mess, and your destroyed mural, did you remember.
"Fuck." You grumbled, leaning against the counter. "Sorry, Nat. I must have scared you."
She shrugged. "Come on, you know how Alexie was when he drank. You don't even come close."
"If I reminded you of your alcoholic father, I really feel like shit right now." You grumble, sinking your face against your hands. But Nat gives a little chuckle.
"You don't, so I'm telling you not to worry." She says. "I just want to know about the mural and the picture you actually sent."
You sigh, stepping away to grab your laptop.
You returned to the kitchen with it in your lap, open to the page of the email you sent to the competition organizers.
"I worked on that mural for what feels like a lifetime." You say. "And when it came time to send the damn picture, I couldn't do it."
Nat took her surprised eyes off the screen to look at you. "Why do you think?"
"Isn't it obvious?" You returned with a sad smile. "The first picture I took when I entered college was the day my mother passed away. She was so tired. You could see it in her face. It was the same photo that my father took to Paris, that secured my first international award."
"Yeah, I know the story." She murmured sadly. "But how is your father being an insensitive little shit about exposing your mother's deathbed photo to the world the reason you won't send the mural photo?"
You sighed. "My mother was the reason I loved photography, Nat. After she was gone, my photos were losing their meaning."
"Y/N, I don't think that's true." Nat argued with a frown. "You just photographed different things. More gray, I guess. But you are still an exceptional photographer."
"All my pictures are empty. Emotionless." You return. "This mural reflects the empty shell I became when my mother died."
"God, I hate it when you talk about yourself like that."
You shake your head, swallowing dryly. "But I'm not all the time like that, am I? Sometimes there are openings of light."
Nat thought it best not to interrupt your creative monologue. You felt your eyes filling with tears.
"Like, when I think of our friendship, I'm able to take pictures that remind me of summer." You confess without looking at her, and Nat smiles, waiting for you to finish. "Or when I think of teaching, and take pictures during the golden hour."
You take a deep breath, feeling the tears drain away. Nat risks, "And when you think of Wanda, what happens?"
You sob softly. "I take the best pictures I ever could."
Nat sighs, and hugs you from the side, resting her head on your shoulder.
You control your crying, to speak again. "That's why I sent them this picture." You recount. "My mother wanted me to participate in this competition. She wanted to see me win, but she died before she could do that. And now, I'm in. And I only made it because of the person who made me the happiest I've ever felt my whole life."
"You should tell her that."
You let out a wry laugh, wiping your tears away with your hands as Nat turns away to look at your notebook once more. "I mean it. It's a really beautiful picture. And even after everything, I think Wanda would like to know."
"I can't do that." You say next, and Nat raises her gaze to you again. "I can't enter that contest."
"Okay, did you hit your head somewhere or what?"
"I can't, Nat." You say simply, feeling a lump in your throat. "If I see that picture displayed anywhere after I've lost her, I'm going to collapse. It was hard enough to send it, I just can't."
Nat sighs, and slips her arms around your waist, waiting for you to match her embrace. "I'm here whatever you decide dear."
Paris, one week ago.
The gallery was full, and you were bored.
Here you were, finally in the most important photography competition in existence.
But you weren't participating.
Nat supported you despite everything, and the judges were so impressed by your photo that they invited you as a guest of the contest.
Having a respected name had its perks.
The judge tried one last time to convince you to expose the photo, but you refused.
Paris was rainy but elegant. Some people were petty.
Without Wanda here, you wanted to cry every time you saw a couple on the street. And there were many.
Your melancholy has earned you many good photographs at least.
After everything that had happened, you were in the most romantic city in the world all alone.
Nothing made you feel better, not the compliments about your work, not the promises of better opportunities, and certainly not the unwanted flirtations from the aspiring photographer in front of you.
"I'm sorry, I'll be right back." You interrupted and didn't even give her a chance to argue before crossing the crowd of people in the gallery toward the outside.
It was fucking cold.
You never smoked, but you felt the urge to do so. So you asked the party guest who was smoking on the sidewalk and on the phone for a cigarette.
He didn't mind.
You puffed twice, and let your gaze wander.
If Wanda had been here, you would have been late. You would have stayed in the hotel room, and she would have kept you in bed as she always did.
You wondered if she missed you in the same excruciating way that you missed her.
You threw away the cigarette, and walked away from the gallery, into the first pub you could find.
It was crowded and cheap. You didn't have that much money, but you spent it all on beer.
You stumbled back to the hotel, and ignored the missed calls from the competition judges, probably wondering what you had gotten yourself into, embarrassed by your absence at the toast.
You took off all your clothes and were left with only your underwear.
The hotel phone could do international calls, the receptionist told you.
What time should it be in New York now, your drunk brain wondered.
You sat on the edge of the couch, and were dialing the only number you could remember.
Don't pick up. Don’t pick up. Please don't-
She sounded sleepy. You woke her up, as you had done so many times before. You remembered her face perfectly, the way Wanda always looked in the morning.
Your breathing becomes shallow.
"Y/N, is that you?" she asked into the silence.
But you didn't answer. She sniffled on the other side. "It is you isn't it?" And she sounded almost annoyed when she asked. "Why are you calling me?"
You didn't answer, and she slammed the phone down hard. With the familiar sound of a closed call, you sobbed.
"I love you, Wanda." You confessed in the silence of your room, against the disconnected phone in your ear.
"How is Paris?" That was the first question you needed to answer the next day, as soon as Natasha called you.
You were still in bed, wishing all your appointments would just go away.
"I can't wait to go home."
"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard." She returns, causing you to let out a chuckle.
"If I ask nicely, will you come pick me up?"
It's her turn to laugh. "God, what a needy baby. What is wrong? Are your hipster friends being mean to you?"
"Everyone is amazing, and I don't want to get out of bed." You clarify, sighing against the pillows. Nat complains to someone on the other end, and you know she should be in Yelena's apartment, probably taking care of Fanny, her sister's dog.
"How's the university?" You ask next, and she lets out a giggle.
"Terrible." She comments, and it sounds like she is hiding something, but you are too miserable to insist. "Darcy asked about you."
"Aww, she's sweet." You return. "I'll ask her out to lunch when I get back, it's been a while since we've done anything together."
"I think you have enough friends already."
You laugh at Nat's jealous tone. "What do you want me to do then, Romanoff? You can't be my gossip company all the time."
"Isolate yourself in your room like you always do and wait for me to be available." She speaks as if she is serious, but you both laugh afterwards. "You're lucky I also think Darcy is cool, so I approve of this friendship."
"Yes, yes." You return. But then you hear a noise that makes you sigh. "Nat I have to go, my responsibilities are knocking on the door."
Nat laughs before saying goodbye.
Fortunately, your excuses and lies about having had feeling sick with the hotel food are enough to justify your absence.
You spend the rest of the holiday going to photo exhibitions that you don't want to see, and on the last day you receive a ticket to Moscow for the semi-finals of the competition.
New York, four days ago.
You realize that you have gotten better at ignoring the pain over time, or at least you have convinced yourself of this.
Nat picked you up at the airport, and updated you on some gossip on the way to your apartment.
But she got tense when you asked again about the university.
"Look, there's no easy way to say this, so I'll just say it." She starts by making you frown in curiosity. "It's about Wanda, sort of."
You focus your gaze on the road, waiting.
Nat takes a deep breath. "Do you remember the guy we saw with her in that bar?"
"He's the new Applied Robotics teacher in the science building." She declares. You lock your jaw, but say nothing. "Look, it's literally across campus, so that means you won't have much contact with him."
"You said it like it was good news. Which means you have a bad one." You deduce. "Nat, what is it?"
She bites her lip hesitantly, and takes a moment of silent direction to finally say. "Wanda has an engagement ring."
Your breath hitches. You turn your face to the window, but can't disguise the sob that escapes your throat next second. Nat doesn't care, she interlaces your hand in silence, and doesn't try to ask you anything.
You're so tired of feeling so miserable all the time.
But you can't help it, especially after learning that Wanda is engaged.
Natasha helps you with your bags, and you go prepare something for you two to drink.
"Are you sure you're alright?" she asks hesitantly, taking a seat at the kitchen counter.
You let out a humorless laugh. "I'm a mess, Nat. You know that." You say. "But now that I know she moved on, I can do the same."
You stare down the floor, and Nat calls you. "You should know I'm with you to the end of the line Y/N."
You smiled, toasting the lemonade with her. "Me too, Nat."
New York, Present Day
Teaching to Wanda, being able to see the glowing ring on her finger completely destroyed all the pleasure of going to class at all.
Your week was the worst since you two broke up.
It felt like the ring was a constant symbol of what you lost.
Wanda didn't interact with you for more than two sentences about the lesson, and you didn't know which was worse.
You tried to stuff yourself with work, and you started going out more too. Darcy was great company, and you wondered why you guys drifted so far after college.
Maybe it was because she was so much more fascinated by technology than photography. Even when she accompanied you to your first competition as a freshman, she preferred drinking than seeing the galleries.
But she was always fun. And you were willing to invest in anything to keep you busy.
All to distract yourself from the fact that eventually, Wanda would be married.
With someone else.
"Hey, Darcy, do you have plans this Friday?" You approached her in the teachers' room, two weekends before the beginning of the Fall season.
Before you had to go to Russia again, to face responsibilities you no longer wanted to have.
She raised a curious eyebrow. "You know something, Y/N, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were trying something with me." She flirted, putting her purse away in the lockers.
You hesitated, feeling your face flush.
Could this be what you were doing?
Was it true that you were seeing her frequently. And that you thought she was funny and beautiful. But she was not Natasha, no one could be your friend like Natasha.
You frowned, surprised by the suggestion. Could you really move on with Darcy?
"Maybe." You spoke then, causing her amused expression to slip. "If you want to, of course. We can have a beer, and call it a date."
Darcy raised a brow, but shrugged. "You know what, that's a great idea. Friday at seven, and don't be late, I'm a picky woman."
You laughed, nodding in agreement.
Great, you had a date. Great, right?
So why are you panicking and Natasha was laughing at your face?
"And you just asked her on a date?" She asked between giggles as soon as you told her all about your encounter with Darcy when Nat went to your classroom in last period. "I knew you still had game."
You let out an embarrassed grumble. "Fuck you."
She just laughed, shaking her head. You went back to correcting the activities on your desk until she stopped.
"Have you at least decided where you're going to take her?" Nat asked after a moment.
You sighed, not taking your eyes off the paper. "The local pub, I think. I don't want anything extravagant, because I'll get anxious in a new place. We' re just giving it a try, Nat. I don't want to mess it up before we get started."
"I hope it works out, sweetheart." She says sincerely, and turns her attention back to her cell phone. "Can I order pizza for us? You look like you have a lot of work to do."
"Yes, Nat, thank you." You speak.
She leaves the room to call, and you sigh as you focus on work again.
When Friday finally arrived, you tried not to think too much about your date.
You put on just a set of jeans, making yourself presentable, and even did your hair the way Natasha said it made you look like a piece of mischief.
She texted you good luck, busy with a movie night with her sister, and you picked Darcy up on foot.
"You look nice." You commented as soon as you arrived, and she gave you a smirk.
"And you look sinful, it's not even fair." She returns charmingly.
It's easy with Darcy. Much because you were already friends.
She is funny, and ironic, and makes comments that make you laugh with a certain embarrassment because they are always at times when you are not supposed to.
You make small talk, reminisce about embarrassing college stories, and drink.
Every time your brain thinks about turning your train of thought to Wanda, you take a sip.
Darcy has always been more resistant, having been to many more parties than you.
So with the same amount of cans, she's just a little high, while you already feel your head spinning.
She decides to call it a night, helping you not to trip over your own feet back to the apartment complex.
"This was fun." You comment smiling, alcoholic. Darcy gives a little chuckle.
"Yes, it was." She says, standing in front of you. "Can you make it to the top floor by yourself, champ?"
You let out a lopsided giggle. "Don't you want to come up with me?"
Honestly, you don't even know where this is coming from. At this point, you're just repeating what you think people do at the end of dates.
Darcy smiles, shaking her head negatively. She moves closer and kisses you on the mouth, but you can't even close your eyes.
She pulls away in the next second. "See how weird it feels?" she asks without sounding upset. "We're friends. Just friends. And your heart is clearly taken."
You suddenly feel like crying, so you look away to the floor. Darcy puts a hand on your shoulder.
"Hey, don't be like that." She says trying to make you feel better. "Just because it didn't work out with me doesn't mean you won't move on with someone else. You're going to another continent next week, you may very well end up meeting the love of your life there."
You bite your tongue hard, avoiding saying that you had already met this person.
Forcing a smile, you say to Darcy, "Thanks for a fun evening, Darcy. I really enjoyed it."
You hate how gossip circulates around campus.
At the very first Monday class, you find the murmurs and giggles among your students strange, and you dread to ask.
Wanda arrives late, gives you a death glare, and doesn't answer any questions during the entire class.
You present a few slides, and collect the assignments from the summer.
Emma Frost thinks it's funny to hand you a bikini picture.
"Miss Frost, come here please." You ask earnestly, and when she approaches your desk, smiling provocatively, you have enough.
You take the picture and tear it up in front of the entire class.
"I don't condone this type of behavior." You warn her, and hand the torn photograph back to her. "If you don't want to fail this semester, I suggest you start taking your assignments more seriously."
You pick up your briefcase, and leave the room. Even from outside you are able to hear the buzzing and giggling.
But you couldn't care less. You were so tired of the immaturity of your students.
To your happiness, Darcy treated you no differently after your unsuccessful date.
You asked her to lunch, and Nat also joined you two.
Because the universe seemed to be testing you, Wanda was in the cafeteria at the same time, and instead of having lunch with her boyfriend in the science building like usual, she invited him to come along.
Suddenly you were not hungry.
Nat noticed your frown immediately, but didn't even have to ask why, since she could see Wanda a few tables away.
You could not control your mouth.
"Don't you guys find it ironic how public they are?"
Darcy exchanges a look with Nat, and it is the redhead who speaks, in her calm tone, trying to keep your anger from escalating somehow.
"Well, things are usually easier for straight couples." She begins. "And besides, before anything happened, they signed a few papers with Fury."
"And Vis isn't her professor anyway." Darcy adds. "I guess it was different with you because, well, she's in your class."
"Yeah, I get it." You return bitterly. "Whatever, that's not my problem. And I really don't want to ruin our lunch, so let's change the subject."
Sometimes, when you pretend not to care for so long, it's convincing enough.
You work on autopilot in the afternoon, and think that nothing can shake you.
Then you bump into your coffee cup on the table, wet your notebook, and have a crying episode.
At least you were already in your apartment.
You really need to finish your paperwork, and to ease the growing pain in your chest, you try a glass of wine.
It seems that you can hear Nat's disapproving tone, so you drink more because you think you are letting your best friend down.
With the alcohol, you feel hot and bothered. The room seems small.
You stand there in your underwear and take photographs.
You try to call Nat, but can't find the right number.
Your head is spinning and you collapse on the carpet.
You wake up to loud knocks on your door.
Groaning with migraine pain, and honestly feeling still half drunk, you complain about the sun light as you get up.
"Hold on, I'm coming!" You warn angrily, then open the door.
You choke as you meet Wanda's angry face.
"What the fuck is your problem?" She questions, and you have no idea what she is talking about. Your expression of shock and confusion only seems to irritate her more.
She pushes the cell phone in your hand and enters the apartment, crossing her arms in the hallway.
You close the door as you lower your gaze to the small device's screen.
All the half naked pictures you have taken were sent to her.
An audio message of you laughing and crying at the same time below.
Many question-mark messages from Wanda that you haven't responded to.
"It was two in the morning!" Wanda accuses angrily. "You just didn't answer me anymore! I didn't know what to think I-"
"I'm sorry." You spoke returning the cell phone to her and bypassing her to go to the kitchen, wanting an aspirin.
"Is that all you're going to say?"
"What else could I say?" You retort back.
Wanda lets out an irritated grumble. "Do you realize how fucked up that is? You can't just send me stuff like that!" She speaks angrily. "Vis could have seen my cell phone!"
At this point, you'd think she was just trying to get a reaction out of you. And she certainly got one by mentioning her fiancé.
"Oh, so this is about your boyfriend checking your phone." You sneer.
"Fiancé." She corrects almost proudly, and you lock your jaw, turning the tablet and the glass of water over at once.
"Yeah, whatever you call it."
She tilts her head, lifting her chin. "Jealous much?"
You let out a humorless laugh.
"Of you fucking another teacher? Of course not, that seems to be your thing."
You felt the words poison your chest after they escaped your tongue. The feeling got even worse when you saw the hurt in Wanda's eyes.
She was almost too shocked to react, almost.
But then she let out a wry laugh, and quickly wiped away the tear that ran down her cheek.
"I should have known you'd treat me like this."
You clenched your jaw, clenching the marble of the kitchen countertop.
"Like a slut." She spoke bitterly. You frowned, but Wanda laughed humorlessly again. "You fucked me, and you tricked me with your pretty words. And then you ended it all when it got too real. Too serious. I guess you just picked a different way to keep fucking with my head."
You let out an offended exclamation. "Wanda, that's not true!"
But she shakes her head, signaling that she doesn't want to hear you speak. "It doesn't matter. We're done. You broke us up, you understand? So stop texting me drunk at night, and stop looking for me. Or I'll file a harassment report."
You feel your eyes fill with tears. But you push the hurt away, and let the anger well up in your chest. "I should have known you use my age against me eventually, treat me like a fucking sexual predator."
Wanda rolls her eyes, already turning away, but you continue to shout at her back. "It's okay when it's an older man who fucks you, then? You bloody hypocrite!"
She turns around angrily, and is yelling back, "That's none of your business! You broke up with me! You left me like we were nothing! Like I was nothing!"
"No, fuck you!" She cut in, stepping forward to push you by the shoulders. You didn't even resist feeling your face wet with tears, both of anger and sadness. "I trusted you! We made promises, and you walked away! How could you do that?"
Wanda was no longer screaming, she was crying. You swallowed dryly, shaking your head. "Wanda I-"
"I can't do this, Y/N." She cuts off again with a sob. "You have to stop it. I can't move on if you won't let me. Please, I... I need to forget about you."
You sobbed, and tried to touch her, but Wanda pulled away immediately, hugging her own body. "Please, if I ever meant anything to you, just stop. I'm getting married, I've found someone who wants to do it with me. I won't survive if you keep drowning me."
You let the tears flow, but nod with your head.
It's enough for her. Wanda leaves at the same speed as she arrived.
You don't show up to work that day.
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The Christmas savior
Wanda Maximoff x Reader x Reader
Summary: Your school was determined to ruin Christmas for you. Luckily, your girlfriend came to the rescue.
Warnings: suggestive talk (almost nothing, really)
Pronouns: not used || Word count: 2.124
December is here! And to open the Christmas Special, I bring you a super fluffy High School AU per say. It's short, but I think it sets the mood very well. Enjoy!
For this request || Christmas Special Masterlist || Masterlist
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All your teachers hated Christmas. How did you know that? Because absolutely all of them gave you assignments during the winter break.
And if you didn't have enough essays and homework during the holiday break, you still had to study for all the mock exams you would have the very first week after the winter break.
To make matters worse, you would spend the holiday alone.
For as long as you can remember, it has been just you and your aunt, Natasha. This was never a problem for you, though. Nat was the best family you could wish for and you are very happy living with her.
But Nat's job constantly involved traveling around the country, being an FBI agent wasn't easy. And it becomes even more difficult when it requires last minute travel in the middle of the holiday season to investigate political scandals in the capital.
Your aunt even invited you to come with her, but besides all the things you had to do, there is the fact that you want to go out with your friends during the holiday. Not only with your friends, but especially with your girlfriend.
You and Wanda started dating earlier this year, when you finally mustered up the courage to take a step forward in your friendship, as everyone knew you would one day.
You love her, from the bottom of your heart, and knowing that she loves you the same way always makes you grin like an idiot.
But all those thoughts would have to wait for now. Now you were in your room, your face shoved into a biology book as you underlined the parts you thought were most important.
As you reach for your pencil to make notes in your notebook, the door to your room suddenly opens, making you jump in your chair with fright.
The scare soon turns into amusement when you see your girlfriend walking into the room, a Santa Claus hat on her head and a speaker in her hands playing Sleigh Ride by The Ronettes.
"You scared the crap out of me, you know," you say with a giggle and Wanda smiles at you. "Besides, you could've interrupted something very inappropriate."
"Would it be something inappropriate that I would like to see?" She asks suggestively, her eyebrows raised as she stares at you, and you feel your neck heating up immediately.
"I'm not going to answer that question." You mumble, making Wanda laugh. As she approaches you, you get up from your chair, looking her from head to toe. "Are you..."
"Wearing a ridiculous Christmas sweater? Yes." She says, gesturing to the colorful garment with an embroidered reindeer, and you giggle. "And soon you will be too."
You watch curiously as Wanda rummages through her backpack. A brief moment later, she tosses you a sweater with colors matching hers, the difference being that yours has a snowman embroidered on it. You smile at the item.
"My mom made it for you." Wanda tells you as you put on the sweater, and the brunette looks at you adoringly as you do so. "Tell her I said thank you." You ask, and Wanda nods.
"Ready to start the Christmas traditions?" She asks excitedly, but you smile apologetically, pointing to the books on your desk. "I can't, Wands, I have a lot of stuff to do for school."
"Babe, come on!" Wanda insists, placing the speaker on the floor and approaching you. She then holds your hands. "It's Christmas, you deserve a break." She argues, but noticing your hesitation, she adds, "You can continue your stuff tomorrow, today we're going to celebrate, you and me."
"You and me? What about your family?" you ask with a confused expression, and Wanda smiles broadly. "I asked them to spend Christmas with you." She asks, and when you look at her in a mixture of surprise and disbelief, she adds, "I can be very convincing."
"I know very well you can." You retort, knowing firsthand your girlfriend's stubbornness, and the brunette giggles, pushing your shoulder slowly.
Knowing there's no way you're going to get out of this one, and honestly wanting more than anything to spend quality time with your girlfriend, you agree. As soon as you do, Wanda lets out a happy squeak, throwing her arms around your neck.
With a giggle, you hug her back, bringing her as close to you as you can. As soon as the hug is over and Wanda pulls away, she holds your hand. "Come on now, we have a lot to do."
So she leads you downstairs, more specifically to the kitchen. As soon as you get there, you see some market bags that weren't there before and you look at her curiously.
"Okay, what are we doing first?" You ask, looking at Wanda curiously, and the girl gestures theatrically at the bags, making you laugh. "Bake cookies." She announces, and you raise your eyebrows.
"We don't know how to bake." You say and the brunette flashes you a displeased grimace. "Speak for yourself." She retorts, walking over to the kitchen counter and taking the items out of the bags.
"How about that time you tried to make me a birthday cake?" You question, arms crossed and eyebrows raised in challenge at her. Wanda rolls her eyes.
"That was because Pietro kept bothering me." She replies and you giggle. "Of course." You respond unconvinced and Wanda nudges you lightly, making you laugh some more.
"But it doesn't matter. It's cookies, how hard can it be?" She argues and you nod in agreement, shrugging.
Soon enough, you are preparing the cookies.
⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅ ⋇ ⋅
The kitchen becomes a real war zone.
To make two measly trays of cookies you manage to scatter ingredients all over the place. There was even some flour stuck to the ceiling. How it got there, none of you can tell.
But as soon as you put the cookies to bake, you organize the whole mess. Working together, soon the kitchen is sparkling again.
And before you know it, you are having Wanda sitting on the kitchen counter, your waist between her legs as you engage in a hot make-out session.
"It's about to burn." She speaks after breaking the kiss. Looking at the brunette's swollen lips and slightly dilated pupils, you smirk mischievously. "Oh, I know."
"I meant the cookies, you idiot." Wanda explains humorously, rolling her eyes, and you laugh awkwardly. "Oh, of course!"
After that you make room for the brunette to get down from the countertop. As soon as she does, she walks toward the oven.
With the aid of a dishcloth, you each remove a tray, placing them on the kitchen counter afterwards.
"No, they're alright." Wanda then comments, noting that there are no signs that the cookies have overcooked, and you nod in agreement. "Yeah, they look pretty decent to me."
"We're a great team." Wanda says next, looking at you adoringly, and you can't help the ear-to-ear grin that spreads across your face.
"The best." You agree wholeheartedly and the brunette smiles broadly before leaning over and pecking you on the lips.
After waiting for the cookies to cool a little bit, you transfer them to a bowl of Christmas designs, and you look at the result of the past few hours with pride.
"Come on, let's eat them in the living room." Wanda then says, holding the bowl in her hands and heading to the living room. "Alright, let me just get some milk." You reply, heading for the refrigerator, and hear the brunette hum in agreement.
With glasses in hand, you make your way to the living room. There, you see Wanda curled up on the couch, legs crossed and the bowl of cookies in her lap. You smile, finding her adorable.
"Here you go." You say as you approach, handing her one of the glasses of milk, and the brunette smiles as she takes it. "Thanks."
You then each pick up a cookie and take it to your mouth at the same time, experiencing the flavor of your teamwork.
"Hmm, really good." Wanda says as the taste hits her palate and you nod, taking another bite of the cookie. "So good." You agree with your mouth full, making the brunette giggle.
"Wanna watch a movie?" Wanda suggests next and you nod vigorously, wiping the corners of your mouth with your thumbs. "Sure! You choose."
As the brunette picks a movie for you to watch on the living room TV, you make your way to your bedroom, grabbing some blankets for the two of you.
Back in the living room, you and Wanda snuggle on the couch, hugging each other. When the movie starts, you devote some of your attention to the TV, most of it, however, resting on the girl in your arms.
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Several hours later, it's already dark outside and you're still lying on the sofa.
You have ended up watching a bunch of Christmas movies. When you get tired of them, though, Wanda puts on some Christmas music and you lie there, talking or just enjoying each other's company in silence.
The cookies are long gone and you begin to feel a little hungry again. Before you can suggest preparing dinner, an idea crosses your mind.
"Oh, I almost forgot!" You say, getting up from the couch. Noticing Wanda's confused expression, you add, "I have something for you."
"For me?" She asks with an excited smile, but you are already leaving the room. "Mhm, wait a minute." You shout from the stairs, running to your room.
A few minutes later Wanda sees you coming back into the living room, a present in your hands and a smile on your lips.
"A gift?" She asks in surprise as you hand her the wrapping and you nod, the silly smile never leaving your face. "Merry Christmas."
With a happy smile on her own face, Wanda leans in, depositing a brief kiss on your lips.
In the sequence, the brunette begins to unwrap the gift, and you giggle at the care she takes with the item.
When the wrapping is gone, Wanda finds herself with a Christmas-decorated book/photo album in her lap. The brunette casts you a brief curious glance before opening the book.
Revealing the inside, the brunette's breath hitches as she sees what's there. You watch her with your heart beating fast in your chest, relishing each of the expressions she makes.
In the book, you have placed several photos that you have taken over the years, as well as including important or funny quotes that have marked your friendship and relationship, inside jokes, and items such as tickets from dates.
"Y/n, this..." Her voice comes out shaky as she tries to hold back the tears that are building up in her eyes. She is speechless, you can tell, and you smile proudly at the fact.
"This is so beautiful, babe, thank you." She finally speaks, raising her eyes to yours, and you smile shyly, genuine happiness visible on your face.
Being overcome with love, Wanda moves forward towards you again, capturing your lips in hers in a passionate, salty kiss. You waste no time in reciprocating.
"But that's not fair, we agreed we wouldn't exchange gifts this year." She says when the kiss is over, sounding genuinely betrayed, and you giggle.
You and your group of friends have arranged to travel to Tony's family's winter cottage to celebrate the New Year. With the expense of the trip, you and Wanda have agreed not to exchange Christmas presents this year.
"I know, but the idea wouldn't leave my mind for the world, so I decided to do it." You defend yourself, and although Wanda shakes her head in disapproval, she has a huge smile on her lips.
"I loved it, I really did. But still, that's not fair. I didn't give you anything." She hits back, and you almost choke with shock. "Are you kidding? You gave me this," you say, motioning around, "this is the best Christmas I've ever had. Thank you."
"Merry Christmas." Wanda says with a shy smile at your heartfelt speech, and you can't help but smile lovingly at her rosy cheeks.
"I love you." You put your feelings out there with those words and Wanda lets out a little giggle as she wipes away her tears. "I love you too."
Placing the gift carefully on the coffee table, Wanda wraps her arms around your neck, yours wrapping around her waist soon after.
As you kiss to the sound of Baby, It's Cold Outside, you are consumed by a happiness you haven't felt in a long time.
Really, there would be no better way to spend Christmas than this.
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