In this chapter, the balance of power begins to shift. Political ambition collides with the freedom of the sea as the consequences of a king’s decisions ripple far beyond his court. While letters of marque turn pirates into weapons of the crown, the ocean becomes a place of uncertainty, danger, and opportunity.
Caught between loyalty and desire, you are forced to confront the cost of choices made in the name of legacy. As tensions rise and violence looms, bonds are tested and the line between duty and love grows thinner, setting the stage for irreversible change.
A chapter about power, sacrifice, and the choices that shape fate.
⚠️ Graphic depictions of violence | Major character death
Warnings: 18+, smut, teasing, lots of teasing, strap on, oral sex, fingering
Summary: You have been working on this new invention, for you and Wanda to use in bed, but you want to taunt her a little bit with it before trying it out.
Author’s note: This is just porn with some plot, and a hell of a lot of teasing. Minors do not interact, please. Thank you @stephanieromanoff for getting this idea inside my head.
“Good, I was looking for you.”
Your girlfriend put down her book, watching you curiously as you made your way into your shared bedroom.
“What’s that?” She referred to the bag you had in your hands, a smirk made its way into your lips.
“A little present for myself,” you said mysteriously, piqueing her interest.
The bag was only a precaution, in case you ran into anyone on your way here, which you didn’t. Wanda swiftly took it from your hand, searching the contents inside.
Her eyes went wide when she picked up the new strap you had brought. The shock quickly replaced by confusion, while you just watched her from the other side of the room, removing your clothes.
“How are we supposed to use it?” She examined the flacid fake leather penis in hands.
Her eyes fell on your barely clothed body, only a bra and panties covering you up. Her hungry gaze stirred something inside you, for a second you just wanted to take her then and there, but you had a goal and nothing would keep you from achieving it.
You walked towards her, swaying your hips teasingly, and took a hold of the object. Her hands instinctively went to your waist, lips chasing yours, which you promptly avoided, or you wouldn’t be able to stop.
“I’ll show you,” she grunted with displeasure when you took a step back, “put this on,” you ordered, while reaching for the bag and taking a small chip she had left behind.
Wanda discarded her pants and underwear without a question, securing the harness around her hips. She swinged the flacid penis from side to side, the feeling must’ve been weird, considering it wasn’t hard.
“I don’t get it,” she looked at you adorably, and you would’ve pinched her cheeks if you weren’t so turned on.
“It’s quite simple,” you lifted up the small device, “do you trust me?” She nodded thoroughly, and you reached behind her neck, connecting the small object to her skin. “This chip is connected to the strap, it’ll be able to read the electrical pulses your brain sends to your body, and will respond when it commands you to produce testosterone.”
As if on cue, the once flacid penis started to grow hard, startling Wanda.
“The strap gets hard when you get turned on,” you simplified.
“That’s pretty cool,” she distracted herself watching it, trying to bend it and failing, to the point where it softened slightly, only to harden again once she laid her eyes on you.
You kissed her, hands tugging on the hem of her shirt, feeling the harness pressed between your bodies. She was trying to get you worked up, doing all the little things she knew drove you crazy, but you didn’t budge. Suddenly you pushed yourself away from her, fighting against the urge to kiss her again when she tried to chase your lips.
She watched, dumbfounded, as you walked towards your closet.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting dressed,” you shrugged, sliding a sinfully short skirt up your legs, “we have a meeting in five minutes.”
“So you did all this just to get me frustrated?” You chuckled, which only seemed to make her angrier.
Once your eyes landed back on her, you caught her trying to remove the strap so she could get dressed.
“Ah ah ah,” you said with a disapproving tone, “don’t take it off.”
“And what? Parade your invention around the compound?”
“Precisely,” you were now fully clothed, a skin tight crop top that accentuated your breasts, complimenting the skirt, “you’ll wear it for the rest of the day, or I’ll hold back sex for a month.”
“You can’t go an entire month without sex.” You knew she’d say that, and it was true, but you wanted to taunt her a little for the day, and she’d have to wear the thing for it to be possible.
“Honey, I invented a fake penis that can get hard or soft just like a real one, you think I can’t invent a fake Wanda who can pleasure me just the way you do?” You couldn’t. At least, not in less than a month, but she didn’t have to know that.
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
You pecked her lips and she let out a loud huff. She was giving in and you couldn’t be more pleased.
“And how do you expect me to hide this for an entire day?” You smirked mischievously.
“Easy, don’t get turned on.”
With one last kiss, you left the room, pitching her good luck while making your way to the conference room.
It was going to be one hell of a fun day.
Wanda showed up to the meeting wearing some grey sweats instead of her usual skinny jeans. Smart move. The loose clothes might help her hide it, but you most definitely wouldn’t, although you decided to hold back for the first couple of minutes.
Steve rambled on and on about mistakes made on the last mission while you mindlessly chewed on the tip of your pen. The topic was entirely boring, and you weren’t the only one who thought that. All around the room everyone tried to distract themselves with something else, be it scribbling on some papers, pretending to read files, twirling a pencil or sipping some coffee. Well, everyone except for Wanda.
The witch was using the meeting itself as a distraction from whatever was going on on that pretty mind of hers. You wished you could take a little peek inside her thoughts right now, although you’d bet everything that you could tell exactly what it was.
At a second glance, you figured she couldn’t be thinking about anything merely sexual, since the area in her pants where a bulge should be, was flat. Or maybe she had taken it off. Oh you so wished she hadn’t, or you’d have to go through with your word, and one month without having those hands touching you would be torture.
Despite your momentary distraction, Steve’s voice could still be faintly heard, along with random grunts and coffs. You’d have to be discreet.
Firstly, you had to catch her attention, which was now on the man talking in front of the whole team. It was an easy enough task, you simply stretched out your hand, etwinning your fingers with hers.
As expected, her eyes fell to your hands, so you quickly positioned them beside your thigh, using your free one to tease the hem of your own skirt. Her eyes followed the action, pupils dilating once you started to use the pen to mindlessly pull the skirt up your legs, leaving them almost bare under the table.
You kept your attention trained forward, pretending the movement was just a thoughtless reaction to the boredom, despite feeling your body burning under her gaze. That familiar coiling started to grow on your belly, causing you to push your thighs closer together, to get some sense of relief. Images started to flood your mind, making it harder to concentrate on the information being thrown your way.
It was Steve who first noticed something wasn’t quite right. Wanda had a shocked expression on her face, cheeks as red as tomatoes.
“Wanda? Is everything okay?” Steve interrupted his speech, causing all eyes to fall on the woman. She nodded profusely, head hanging low, pushing her chair as close as possible underneath the table.
The meeting continued, although the air in the room grew awkward. You and Wanda seemed to be stuck in your own little world, as she kept her face hidden from everyone else, and a smirk grew on your face at the bulge that had grown in her pants.
Despite her attempts, you had managed to turn her on, unfortunately you had gotten turned on in the process, maybe this game would end up being harder than anticipated.
It took Wanda several minutes to soften the strap enough for her to stand up and it not to be noticeable. Lucky for her, and not so much for all the others who were present, the meeting still went on for almost another hour.
Exhaustion took over everyone as they scattered about the compound. It was nearly lunch time, but no one had half a mind to cook anything, so most of the team decided to go out. You and Wanda decided to stay behind, along with Bruce, who wanted to stay and work on the lab, Pepper, who had some paperwork to finish, and Sam, who just didn’t feel like going out.
After scooping up some leftovers so you didn’t starve, you found yourself bored in the mostly empty building. Wanda had been going out of her way to avoid you - for obvious reasons - and the three others were hiding somewhere, and you weren’t in the mood to bother them. So you decided to go out for a walk.
The fresh air, the smell of grass and the breeze coming from the river was invigorating. But the sight of your girlfriend, once you got back, in the living room, sitting on the couch with her nose buried in a book, stirred something inside you.
She still had her grey sweats on, but she had now paired it with a long black shirt, too big for her figure. A cute attempt at hiding the strap she was packing as best as she could. Her long hair was loose, cooper coloured strands cascading down her shoulders, contrasting beautifully with the darkness of her clothes.
Her features were soft, calm, her limbs were relaxed and at bay, something she hasn’t been able to do since this morning. And if it was up to you, she wouldn’t be able to do it for much longer.
She hadn’t seen you yet, so you took advantage of that, silently approaching her, taking the book from her hands and tossing it aside, moving your legs to straddle her hip, not giving her a chance to run.
Her face was level with your breasts, covered by the tight shirt, her eyes hungrily looking at them. You couldn’t help but notice that the strap didn’t get hard, she was somehow finding a way to deviate her mind from those dirty thoughts.
“You look so hot when you’re reading,” you spoke in a low and raspy tone. Her eyes finally meeting your’s, faces barely inches from one another.
“Why won’t you let me read then?” You smirked at her challenge, placing a delicate kiss on her neck before whispering into her ear.
“Because I think you look hotter when you’re moaning on my bed.”
Her fingers wrapped around your thighs, nails digging into the skin aggressively - she was trying to hold back -, while her lips found yours. You moved your faces together, hands resting on her shoulder, hips grinding down into her as her arms helped the movement.
She nibbled at your lips teasingly, trailing up your legs with her skilled, yet delicate, fingers. She moved her kisses down your jaw, finding that spot on your neck she knew drove you crazy, although she didn’t have time to leave any marks, her hands finally reaching your hips, sending her into the realization you weren’t wearing any underwear.
A deep moan elicited from her throat, along with something hard inside her pants, poking directly into your core. She started to make her way to your center, causing your heart rate to pick up. Her fingers gathered some of the slick that was dripping down your thighs, tasting them profusely. The sight caused you to groan in frustration, you wanted her to touch you so bad, to take you right there and then, but the feeling of that fake boner rubbing against you was a reminder that you had to follow through with your words, and make her suffer for just a few more hours.
Leaving Wanda on that couch was harder than you had thought. You were so far gone that a single touch of her hands would drive you into an orgasm. You had to be careful.
Nonetheless, you still had the right to have some fun, and that’s exactly what you planned on doing.
For the rest of the afternoon you had avoided Wanda as much as she had avoided you, a pathetic attempt at getting a grip of yourself. But now she was in the kitchen, a broth cooking on the stove. The room was overtaken by the delicious smell, but what made your mouth water was your girlfriend, hair pulled up on a bun while she stirred the mix cautiously.
She seemed so concentrated, the perfect moment to tease her some more. Although you’d have to be not only careful but discreet. Several of your teammates were hanging around, waiting from a hot bowl of Wanda's food, the best in the compound by far, which meant you had an audience and you had to avoid their curious eyes at all costs.
You moved along, the hem of your skirt raising dangerously close to your bare cunt with the movement. The panties you were wearing earlier tucked carefully into your fist. A few eyes followed you, but you paid them no mind, you had a goal and nothing would keep you from conquering it.
Once you reached Wanda, you wrapped your arms around her waist, earning a whimper in surprise. You rested your chin on her shoulder, causing her breathing to fasten slightly. And then you opened your hand.
Her entire body tensed, eyes going wide, although you couldn’t see them, at the piece of clothing. After you left Wanda on the couch, you had slipped the panties back on, to keep your arousal from dripping down your legs throughout the day, which meant that those panties were now soaking wet.
Using your thumb, you gathered some of it, bringing it up to her lips. Her eyes screwed shut at your smell invading her nostrils, the strap already making itself present of her pants, although she hadn’t noticed it yet.
You used this little moment of distraction to pull her sweats open, just a few inches, enough for you to drop the wet clothing inside it.
“Little gift,” you whispered, placing a kiss right below her ear, and walking away.
It took her a few seconds to recover, to go back to the food still cooking on the stove, to notice the apparent bulge on her pants. Her cheeks earned a rose color at the realization, shooting you a death glare.
She was able to get rid of it before the food was ready, or maybe she just kept it heating for longer than necessary, you couldn’t tell. You were, though, annoyed by the fact that she didn’t sit beside you on the dinner table.
Natasha noticed Wanda’s behaviour, and so did Clint, but none of them decided to comment about it. You, on the other hand, wanted to make several comments about it, some dirtier than others. You had plans of teasing her during dinner, but those required her to be at arm's length, and right now she wasn’t.
You’d have to resort to something different, creative.
It was a known fact that Wanda could read minds. Your teammates feared that ability, but you found it really useful, and could be very fun in certain situations, like this one.
Wanda herself wasn’t very fond of this power, she felt it was invasive to have access to people’s minds without having permission to do so. She avoided using it, she practiced, day and night, to keep other’s thoughts away, and it was working pretty well. She was successful most of the time, having a minor slip up here and there when someone had a particularly loud thought haunting them.
Thankfully, you knew how to make your thoughts as loud as they could be.
In the beginning you were behaving nicely, engaging in conversation with Steve or Tony, Bruce pitching in at times. Wanda’s eyes hadn’t fallen on you once. The food was great, and you were enjoying the evening nicely, but eventually you started to get bored, so you let your brain run wild.
The room was dark except for a small lamp, setting the mood. Wanda’s naked body was laying on the unmade bed, a thin layer of sweat covering her skin. Your body hovered above hers, drinking on the moans and whimpers that left her swollen lips. With your fingers buried deep inside her, thrusting in and out at a fast pace, you watched as her face contorted in pleasure, her back arching closer to you, her chest rising deliciously.
Wanda seemed to be at ease. Not tense or alert. Maybe the thought hadn’t been loud enough for her to see it, although it had been loud enough for you to feel the effects of it on your own body. You’d have to break her soon or the chair you were sitting would have a pretty wet spot that you weren’t interested in explaining how it came to be.
You were back in the bedroom, Your back was pressed against the door, the hard wood uncomfortable against your bones, but it didn’t matter. Your right hand dropped to Wanda, who was kneeling between your legs, tangling in her hair and pulling her closer to your center, while your left one tried to hold on to anything around, keeping you standing.
Her tongue played with your throbbing clit, teasing your entrance from time to time. You clenched around nothing, ravishing on all the feelings she was giving you. Soon enough your legs were weakening, making you almost unable to hold yourself up as you approached your high.
Wanda was quick to notice your state, running her mouth up your body until her lips met yours, you could feel something hard pressing against the place her mouth had been seconds ago.
Your hand worked on aligning the strap to your entrance, and Wanda plunged it into you with a brute force. You let go of her lips, a loud cry escaping your’s at the intrusion. It wasn’t long before your legs were weakening again, all the while she worked on leaving all kinds of marks on your neck and collarbone.
She was good, she was hiding it well, but you could tell she had seen it too, the images you were creating in your head. She avoided your gaze, in fact, she avoided everyone’s gaze. Suddenly falling quiet, catching the attention of Pepper and Thor, who were talking to her moments earlier.
Her knuckles were white from holding the cutlery too strongly, but she didn’t make a single move to touch the food. It was an attempt to keep the hidden toy… well… hidden. And she was getting better at it.
This time you were right there, in the dinner room. The rest of the team was gone, and so was all the food that was on the table just seconds ago.
Wanda was sitting on the edge of the table, body completely stripped of clothes before you. You touched her neck, brushing your thumb against her cheek, pulling her lips to yours. Moving slowly, you descended, making your way down, leaving kisses and marks on her skin.
Her jaw. Her neck. Her collarbone. The valley of her breasts. Her rosy nipples, which hardened at the touch of your mouth, of your tongue. Her stomach, which rolled in pleasure, earning a groan from the woman as you approached the place she wanted you to be.
You moaned as her smell invaded all your senses, as she dripped on the wooden table. She hooked her legs over your shoulders, keeping you put, your face level with her cunt. You gave her a long lick, ravishing in the taste of her on your tongue, causing her to shudder and fall back in pleasure.
“Y/N?”
You kept playing with her clit, inserting two fingers without warning, curling them to hit that sweet spot inside her. Her nails digged into your skull, only adding to your own pleasure. The sounds she made intoxicated you, driving you to…
“Y/N!”
The scream brought you back to reality. The people, the food, everything came back into your line of view. You shook your head to brush off the confusion, you had gotten too caught up on your little fantasy.
“Sorry,” you mumbled to Steve and Tony, who were looking at you, “I guess I’m just tired.”
A quick glance around the room revealed Wanda was staring at you, blushing, hard. She was too far away for you to see if her pupils were dilated or not, but the look of hunger splashed across her face gave her away. She was seeing it too, and she most certainly was thinking about recreating that scene right there.
“I guess I’ll just call it a night,” you announced, getting up. Eyes followed your form, Natasha’s was accompanied with a knowing smirk. You turned to Wanda, “coming?”
She hesitated. The toy had, yet again, worked like a charm. And she didn’t want to move, exposing the bulge on her pants.
“I will kill you!”
You heard her voice echoing in your mind, harsher than what she actually looked. She was nervous, she was tense, a little bit angry, but most importantly, she was turned on.
“C’mon, or I’ll prolong your suffering until tomorrow night.”
She let out a huff at your words, discreet, but enough for you to notice. She shot you a smile, nodding slightly. She had a plan.
There were barely two bites left on her plate, and she intended to finish them before leaving, or at least she made it seem like she did. Exasperatedly she took the first bite, but when she reached for the second, she pushed the plate, causing it to knock down the cup of water she was drinking.
The liquid spilled on the table, spreading quickly. The attention was suddenly no longer on the both of you, but on cleaning up the mess. She took the opportunity to get up and pull you by the wrist towards your room.
Her grip was hard, and the volume on her pants was very visible. There was anger in her eyes, and a hint of the blush still remained on her cheeks. The entire scene was making you aroused, your center clenching around nothing, just the thought of her fucking you senseless.
She threw the door of the bedroom shut behind her, pushing you against it, hitting your back hard against the wood, but what caused you to lose your breath was her face so close to yours you could count the streaks of gold amongst her green irises, the strap, your brilliant invention, pushing against your already wet center.
“You have been taunting me all day,” she whispered against your neck, causing shivers to go up your spine.
Summary: You and Wanda have been very close ever since she joined the team, too close, and after a conversation with Sam she starts to question the nature of her feelings for you.
Author’s note: I think I outdid myself with this one. This is the fluffiest fluff I’ve ever written, so beware of that haha. Enjoy!
Pulling the blanket closer to warm yourself, your eyes fell on your shivering best friend.
“Psst,” you tried to catch her attention without disturbing the others who were watching the movie.
Her gaze landed on you, cheeks pink from the cold in a way that just made her look cuter than normal, eyes pleading when she noticed the warm layer covering your body. You raised one of it’s corners, inviting her to join you. A beaming smile made its way onto her lips and she promptly obliged, cuddling up to you comfortably.
The warmth of your body helped her to relax quickly, her limbs no longer trembling after a few minutes. You both enjoyed being tangled in each other’s arms, keeping away the cold of the night. No one else found it weird, being used to your closeness with the sokovian.
The movie was completely forgotten as you fell asleep together, securely embracing her body against yours.
Wanda Maximoff and you were close, maybe too close. You were the first person to welcome her to the team, the others being weary of her powers, and scared due to the images she put on their heads during a mission - although they’d never admit their fear.
You, not being involved on the mission, was happy to ease her into the Avenger’s life, and she became attached to you, not that you were complaining. It wasn’t long before you started to develop feelings for the girl, but she had just lost her brother and her country, so you pushed all that aside to help her heal from all the pain she has been through.
Eventually the team warmed up to her, seeing she was this shy and bubbly person who was, as well, scared of her own powers.
You woke up with the sun beaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows, a heavy weight against your body. You couldn’t help but smile at the softness of the girl still deep asleep on you. Not wanting to move and risk waking her up, you stayed there, caressing her hair until she started to stir, signaling she was awake.
“Morning.” She smiled at the sound of your voice, hugging you tighter.
“Hm… morning.”
You stayed like that for several minutes, but the moment was broken by your stomach rumbling loudly.
“Someone’s hungry.”
“Can you blame me? I’ve been here for a while,” as much as you liked laying with Wanda, you’ve been craving some food for a while.
She chuckled, lifting her body and stretching, still in a sleepy state.
“C’mon, I’ll make you some breakfast,” she pitched, stumbling towards the kitchen while trying to brush the sleep off of her eyes.
You didn’t stay behind, appreciating the sudden lightness on your chest, a nice contrast from being squeezed all night. Wanda moved through the kitchen naturally, she could be a professional chef if she wanted to.
“What are we having?”
“Pancakes,” she responded excitedly and you started to help her out with everything she’d need.
Mixing bowls, spoons, pancake mix, wet ingredients, fry pan, you set everything on the aisle before taking a seat on one of the stools, watching as she happily prepared the mix. Soon enough the kitchen was engulfed in a delicious vanilla scent.
You suspected the smell wasn’t contained to the space as Bucky walked into the room, dramatically sniffing the air. His eyes fell to the small blobs of batter on the pan, causing some excitement to grow on him.
“Pancakes!” He exclaimed with a wide grin.
Other members of the team started to make their way to the kitchen, all very excited at the prospect of breakfast.
The kitchen became a mess, to say the least. Half a dozen hungry superheroes, fighting for the pancakes, while you and Wanda just laughed at their antics, trying to get them to behave.
Once you noticed the last ones were getting ready you quickly joined her by the stove.
“Hide these ones or we won’t get any,” you warned her playfully.
She set them on a plate and you made sure no one noticed as you quietly ate them in your little corner. You pushed yourself up to sit on the counter once they were all gone, Wanda settling herself in the middle of your legs, her back pressed to your chest and your arms sneaking around her shoulders.
The action caught the group’s attention, all eyes turning to you, noticing Wanda was no longer working on the stove.
“No more pancakes?” Bucky asked pleadingly.
“You ate them all,” she retorted.
The puppy eyes they sent your way were adorable, and hilarious. The most feared group of people in the world begging for more pancakes, it was hilarious. They didn’t stay around for long, all going about their tasks for the day. You would’ve stayed there with Wanda for hours if you could, but Tony called you for some help with testing some of his new inventions. Begrudgingly you followed him, leaving Wanda to sort out her own stuff.
After hours of watching Tony being thrown around by his suits, you were glad to return to the comfort of the living room. Leaning back on the couch, the remote in hands, your curiosity was suddenly piqued by chattering in the kitchen.
“Hey, what are you two talking about?” You interrupted, earning Sam and Wanda’s attention.
“I was just explaining to her Jurassic Park.”
“You haven’t watched it yet?” You turned to Wanda in shock. “Well, we have to change that.”
Ever since her childhood, Wanda hasn’t had much time to learn about the most recent pop culture. From movies, to celebrities and even day-to-day slang, she knew nothing about them, and would always ask you to explain. It was adorable, if you had to admit.
“Okay, but dinosaurs? Nowadays? How would they even do that?” Her confusion was endearing.
“I told you,” Sam started, slightly losing his patience, “they take the DNA from a mosquito and- y’know what, maybe you should just watch it.”
You chuckled at his frustration while Wanda just seemed to be annoyed and confused by the whole concept.
“Tell you what, I’ll go take a shower, and then we can watch it, deal?” She nodded her head eagerly, shooting you a grin. “And then we have to watch Jurassic World.”
“You’re just saying that because Katie McGrath is in it.” Sam teased.
“Not true,” he raised an eyebrow in defiance, “okay, maybe a little true,” you admitted, “what can I say, I do have a crush on her.”
“I can’t blame you, she’s hot.”
“Right? I’d marry her in a heartbeat if I had the chance,” you joked, earning a chuckle from Sam.
You noticed Wanda had fallen silent throughout the conversation, probably because this wasn’t a topic she knew that much about. Although, when your eyes fell on her figure, she was in deep thought, a frown painting her face as she seemed to fight some sort of internal battle.
Deciding not to push her on the topic, you excused yourself to go take that shower.
Little did you know what was, in fact, going through Wanda’s mind. This discomfort growing on the pit of her stomach by the way you were talking about that actress. How you talked about marrying her. Her lack of understanding on all of these topics causing the situation to be all the more frustrating.
Usually she’d go to you when having this many questions bubbling on her mind, but bringing up this topic to you scared her, and she didn’t know why. Still, she needed to talk to someone about this. Understand what was going on.
So that’s how she found herself knocking on Natasha’s door, opening it cautiously after hearing the russian inviting her in.
“Hey, uhmm,” she stood on the doorway, feeling shy under Natasha’s gaze and unsure of how to approach the topic, “can I… ask you something?”
Nat, with her superspy training, noticed right away the girl’s hesitation, swiftly straightening her position in her bed, signaling she had all her attention.
“Of course.” Wanda was still nervous, despite not really knowing why, and tried to ease it by playing with the rings on her fingers.
“What’s a crush?” Nat didn’t quite understand why she was asking her, since it was always you she went to for this stuff, but answered anyway.
“It’s how you refer to someone you like,” Wanda didn’t move and Nat noticed there was more to it than she was letting on, “come here,” she patted her bed and Wanda was quick to close the door and take the spot beside her.
The definition was still oddly confusing to Wanda, and Nat gave her some time to process it.
“So… I like you, does that mean I… crush… you?” Nat held back a giggle at how endearing the moment was, not wanting to scare her off. She was now starting to understand why you’ve gotten so fond of the witch.
“Not quite.” Wanda sent a confused look.
“How so then?”
“Well, it’s usually for someone you want to be around all the time,” Nat knew very well what she was doing, and could just hope Wanda figured it out too, “someone that always makes you smile, someone that gives you butterflies on your stomach,” as she uttered those words, Wanda’s mind kept picturing you, “someone you want to kiss.”
Those last words caused Wanda’s eyes to go wide in surprise, which didn’t go unnoticed by the spy, who playfully shoved her on the shoulders.
“So it’s for someone you’re in love with?” Nat’s smile just grew wider.
“It’s for someone who you’re falling in love with, but haven’t quite gotten there yet, you say you have a crush on them,” she explained and watched as Wanda fell into deep thought.
Natasha has been suspecting the nature of your and Wanda’s relationship for quite a while. But seeing you become a sort of safe haven for her in this place, she decided not to push you about it. Although all these questions made her believe Wanda was questioning her own feelings towards you, and she wanted to be there to support her.
Wanda sat quietly by her side, mind going a million miles a minute. She had always been close to you, she always enjoys your company, hell, sometimes she even craves your company.
You have been there for her through it all, the good and the bad. You know her favorite movies and tv shows. You can always tell when she’s having an off day, even if she tries to hide. And, somehow, you always know what to say to comfort her.
At that moment she realized it goes both ways. She knows your favorite dishes, and loves making them for you. She knows the best ways to make you laugh. She even knows your favorite positions to cuddle, since they compliment with her own.
It was like all the information was piecing together in a very unexpected way. All those things Nat said, and how they all reminded her of you. The fact that when the woman mentioned kissing, Wanda’s surprise wasn’t because she wasn’t fond of the idea, but because she was.
The idea of two girls being together had never even crossed Wanda’s mind. Sokovia was in the middle of a war during her childhood, and this kind of freedom and acceptance wasn’t one of the people’s priorities. So much so that she never even heard about it.
But the way you talked so openly about that actress. The way you felt so comfortable with the idea of having a crush on her, or marrying her. The way Sam treated it so naturally. As if a girl being with another girl was the most normal thing.
For some reason she couldn’t help but picture how he’d react if it was you and her together. If she was the one you had a crush on.
Did this mean she had a crush on you?
It would explain why she liked you more than the others. Why she preferred to spend time with you. Why she felt so weird at the mention of you marrying someone else.
Wanda was starting to come to terms with the fact that she liked you, her frown softening. Nat, who was patiently waiting, decided to push her a little bit more on this. She was, after all, tired of you two being in love with each other and not knowing.
“Do you have a crush on anyone?” She played along, so as to not pressure the girl in case she had read it all wrong.
“Maybe,” she mumbled.
“Do I know them?” Wanda just nodded, her cheeks earning a pink color. “You can tell me if you want.” She encouraged, taking her hand to calm her nerves.
“It’s Y/N,” Wanda whispered, her gaze fixed on her lap. Nat didn’t say anything, just smiled proudly and gave the girl’s hand a squeeze. Noticing the silence, Wanda lifted her gaze towards Nat. “Is that okay?”
All her fears of Nat not accepting were gone when she saw the proud smile painted on her face.
“Of course it’s okay.” Wanda relaxed at the words, feeling this weight being lifted from her at finally understanding how she feels about you.
After you had finished your shower, you looked for Wanda everywhere. Getting frustrated, you were about to give up, you just had to ask Nat first if she’d seen her.
“Hey Nat,” you abruptly opened her door without knocking, “have you seen- I was looking for you everywhere,” you were happy to finally find the girl, “sorry, did I interrupt something?” You added as they both looked at you, Nat with a smile to her face and Wanda with wide eyes.
None of them said anything, so you spoke up before it became uncomfortable.
“I’m going to start the movie, meet me in the living room when you’re done.”
Nat nudged Wanda, who was quick to comment.
“I’m coming, we’re already done here,” she lifted herself up, thanking Nat for whatever it was they were doing and joined you.
Curiosity got the best of you, and you couldn’t help but ask.
“So, what were you two talking about?” You playfully teased.
“Nothing much, I’m excited for the movie though.” Noticing how she changed the subject, you decided not to push, nodding along and following her to the living room.
Throughout the movie you noticed something was off with Wanda. For starters, she wasn’t cuddling with you, which was unusual. She also didn’t seem focused on the movie, her mind lost in something else, so much so that she barely reacted to any of your comments about the plot or characters.
Your suspicions were confirmed when you paused the scene and she didn’t even notice.
“Are you enjoying the movie?”
“Yes, of course,” she tried to cover up her embarrassment from being caught, you just raised an eyebrow at her.
“Oh really? Then who’s that?” You pointed to one of the characters frozen on the screen.
“That’s… uhm… I don’t know, I’m sorry,” she admitted, giving you her best puppy dog eyes, “I’ve just been thinking about… stuff.”
“Do you wanna talk about this… stuff?” You offered, but, surprisingly, she turned you down.
“No, that’s okay, I guess I’ll just sleep on it,” and with that she left.
You were left completely dumbfounded. Wanda wasn’t one to hide things from you, especially things that got her so lost like this. You thought about confronting Natasha about it, likely she had said something that left the girl so upset, but decided against it, trusting Wanda would come forward when she felt comfortable to do so.
It took a few days of her being distant and avoiding you for her to finally talk to you.
You were laying in bed, scrolling through your phone, when you heard a knock on your door.
“Yeah?” You yelled, and watched as Wanda’s face came into view.
“We need to talk,” she simply stated, closing the door behind you.
“Okay,” you sat up, setting your phone down “go on.”
She shifted her weight from one leg to another, she was nervous making you highly alert.
“Nat helped me realize something the other day,” she started, “she told me to tell you, and I didn’t want to because I didn’t want to make things weird, but I feel like you should know, I need you to know I-” She stopped when she felt your hand rest on her forearm.
“Wan, relax,” you spoke softly to soothe her nerves, “you can tell me anything, you know that,” you reassured, earning a smile from the girl.
“Right, yeah,” she took a deep breath, “so I- uhm, how did she say it?” She mumbled adorably.
Her gaze wouldn’t meet yours, but you still watched as she stumbled on her words, always carrying a soft smile on your lips.
“I have a crush on you,” she admitted, a long puff releasing all the air on her chest.
Your body was flooded with all those feelings you’ve been pushing aside for months now. She likes you. She actually, really likes you. And she’s right there, standing in front of you, all shy and cute, telling you that.
It took every ounce of self control for you to keep your calm demeanor. You wanted to comfort her instead of scaring her away, this clearly being a new and unexplored topic for her. And you almost lost all control when her eyes met yours, pleading and with a small hint of disappointment due to your silence. Almost.
“Is that okay?” She tried, one last attempt.
You brought your hand to cradle her cheek, rubbing your thumb softly on the skin there. A smile broke onto her lips, her body relaxing, once you nodded in response. There was so much you wanted to say, but the words seemed shallow, not enough.
So you didn’t waste any time in giving her something more than words. With your hand you kept her face still and leaned in, capturing her lips with yours. Your movements were slow, taking your time in savouring the moment.
Wanda didn’t quite know what to do, so you directed her. Your lips were cautious, you positioned her hands on your waist and held her face, moving it in sync with yours.
It wasn’t long before she got the hang of it, and you could’ve been there for hours if it was up to you, feeling her body against yours, the sweet taste of her lips sending you through the roof. Unfortunately the need for air spoke louder.
With foreheads resting against each others’, you enjoyed the very last seconds of that moment. The first moment of many you wished to share with her.
Pairing: Professor!Wanda Maximoff x Student!Reader
Word count: ~8.8k
Warnings: high school AU (reader is 18 though), fluff, angst, small mention of religion, implied smut
Summary: Wanda Maximoff challenges your patience every week during philosophy class, now it’s your turn.
Author’s note: So I over-thought this story waaaaay too much, I considered not posting it several times, but I really liked it so here it is. Let me know what you think, and enjoy!
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Liberty consists in doing what one desires.
That’s what John Stuart Miller used to say. The english philosopher might’ve explained the main reason why humanity desires liberty so much, and why we can never have it.
Consider liberty as being a synonym to freedom. Everyone desires freedom, praises that it is the definition of living, freedom walks hand in hand with success, with happiness. In theory, that is a great line of thinking, and not necessarily wrong, just utopic.
No one is willing to deal with the consequences of total and complete freedom. After all, we’ve never experienced total and complete freedom before, not a single living soul. There are laws we must follow, laws that control our freedom, mould it to the best way of controlling us.
How would the world be with total freedom? No economic laws that define how money and basic exchange of products work, no juridical laws that punish those who risk other people’s safety, no social laws leveling the general understanding of human interaction, not even physics laws that rule the entirety of the universe. Do we know what a life without these would be like? Are we willing to figure it out?
“... Ms. Y/L/N?” You turned your attention to the professor, not feeling even slightly uncomfortable by the sudden attention.
“What was that, Ms. Maximoff?” She would’ve rolled her eyes if she could, but held herself back for the sake of professionalism.
“I was asking if you’d like to give us your opinion on the matter since you seem to be so deep in thought, certainly you have something interesting to say.”
“I wasn’t thinking about the topic of discussion, in fact, I’m not even aware of what that would be.”
Professor Maximoff was hands down your favourite professor to piss off, and that was simply because, different from the others, she was stubborn, she never cut you mid discussion, she’d let you take it till the end, no matter how mad or humiliated she got. It was fun.
You always had a bad reputation amongst the professors, being the most hated kind of student anyone could have, the one who always messes around, doesn’t pay attention and is always disrupting the class, but somehow does well in school and never gets an answer wrong no matter how little attention you were actually paying.
After you moved for a year to Brasil, where your parents are originally from, you were held back a grade, and since all your friends already graduated, and your new classmates are a big bore, all that was left was to pick on the professors, and you had a lot of fun doing it. Boarding school can always be full of pricks.
“Mr. Jansen was just pointing out that if we suppose there’s a God responsible for the creation of humanity, and we’re all made in his image, then man is born good and society corrupts us.” She explained.
Man is born good, interesting intake.
“And I assume Ms. González defends that man is born evil and all goodness comes from morals that are bestowed upon us by religion.” You pointed out.
Man is born evil, another interesting opinion.
“So you were paying attention,” there wasn’t even a hint of surprise in her tone.
“Just stating the obvious.” Those two always disagree on debates like this.
“Then what is your take on this?”
“My take is that no matter what take you have on this you’ll always come back to the same problem.”
“That would be…,” she urged you to continue.
“That if God was, in fact, responsible for creation, and he and evil coexist, then he’s either not omnipotent, or he’s not as good as it is believed.” Of course your words erupted a few murmurs from the most religious kids in class, which Ms. Maximoff was quick to shut down.
“Continue,” she said, with some curiosity, once silence settled again.
“If evil exists then either God isn’t powerful enough to get rid of it, hence him not being omnipotent, or he can do it he just doesn’t want to, making him an accomplice to the pain it causes to humanity, not so good on his part is it?”
“Evil is inflicted on us by Satan.” Otto Jansen countered.
“Ah, then God is not omnipotent since he can’t overpower Satan, see we go back to the same problem.”
“Alright Ms. Y/L/N, but in the christian religion it is viewed that the Earth is some sort of, middle plane, a test, of sorts, to decide what’ll happen to you in the afterlife. Doesn’t that cancel out your statement?” Discussing with your peers was fun, but it was a blast when Ms. Maximoff added her own opinion to it, and when it involves you, she always does.
“Quite on the contrary, you can even approach that in two different ways. If this is some kind of purgatory, so it can be decided if each individual person is good or bad, it leaves space for you to assume that man is born either evil or good, and if we’re all made in God’s image, then that leaves open the possibility that there’s evil in God himself.”
New grunts of disapproval, which only fueled your confidence.
“And the other approach?”
“Right,” you almost forgot, “why would God need a purgatory in the first place? Assuming heaven does exist, it is a perfect plane where there’s no evil. So if something like that can exist, why does he need a middle plane in which both good and evil coexist? Did he make man in his image, which contains evil somehow, and now he needs to figure out who can fight the evil and who succumbs to it? Or is he not powerful enough to make all men good?”
The room fell dead silent. Mrs. Maximoff was considering your words carefully, unable to hide the anger in her face. You had just completely destroyed the point of her debate by turning it all towards a problem with no clear solution.
A quick glance to the clock showed there were only a few seconds for the bell to go off, so you decided to fill that silence and close your line of thinking.
“What I’m saying is, when looking at this from the perspective of religion, the real question is not whether man was born good or evil, it’s if God is not omnipotent or not all that good.”
Perfect timing. You started to pack your things as everyone started to make their way out of the class. Soon enough only you and Ms. Maximoff were left.
“You could pay more attention to class y’know.”
“Why? Weren’t my remarks good enough for you?” You retorted.
“You didn’t answer the question.” She sent you a subtle glance.
“I thought we were supposed to defend our point of view,” you said while walking towards the exit, “I think that’s exactly what I did.” You didn’t leave her time to respond, only hearing a huff coming from the classroom.
As much as you hated school, you also hated missing classes, it gave them ammunition to punish you. So you ran, your bedroom being on the other side of the building, hoping you’d make it on time.
You didn’t. Although that was not surprising, you had, in fact, woken up almost 20 minutes after class had already started, only a miracle or a wormhole that took you back in time could’ve saved you.
Standing by the closed door to philosophy class, you had an idea. Not a good one, but it’d have to do for now.
The room where Ms. Maximoff taught, just like all the others, had windows. On the other hand, it was on the second floor, thankfully your tree climbing skills were up to date. Your backpack was light, making the whole process much easier, what made it difficult was when Otto looked out the window, almost catching you.
Expertly you made your way to the branch which gave you access to the very back of the class. If it was full you’d be able to sneak in without calling attention to yourself. And you were successful, for the first few steps, being careful to not make any noise, slightly crouching down… it was all useless when Ms. Maximoff finished her speech.
“Ah, Ms. Y/L/N, how nice of you to join us.” You stopped dead on your track, shutting your eyes closed at your failed attempt. “Do you have any morals?”
That was a weird question, nonetheless you straightened yourself, turning towards the woman, acting like being caught hadn’t affected you at all.
“Oh, I see we’re back to the same topic of last week.”
“How so?”
“Well, discussing morality takes us back to the very point of ‘are humans born good and further corrupted, or are they born evil?” All the attention turned to you.
“Very good, you still didn’t answer my question though, do you have any morals?”
“Don’t we all?”
“I don’t know, you sneak into the classroom late knowing that it’s against the rules.” Fair point, although uncalled for.
“You’re a constructivist then.” You pointed out, matter of factly.
“What leads you to believe that?” She questioned curiously
“You don’t believe I have morals, or at least you consider the possibility, which leads me to assume that you don’t believe we are born with morals, they are given to us.”
“And what do you believe?”
You thought about it for a few seconds, her intense gaze making you nervous and somewhat confident.
“I believe all points of view are problematic.”
“Enlighten us.” She urged you on.
“Constructivists believe that morality is a result of evolution, basically we have morals due to our commitments towards society, but if that’s so, how did morality come to exist in the first place? Society wasn’t there since the beginning of time, it was created, so this line of thinking proposes that morality was created too, but how? And by whom?”
“So you’re saying that humans would have to be born with morals?” Robyn Byrne, another one of your classmates, pitched.
“Not quite, that’s what the realists believe, but that has some problems of its own. Think about it, if humans are born with morals, how did they acquire them? And what are they? Are they different from person to person? Because from what we can observe, my morals are clearly different from Ms. Maximoff’s,” you mocked, earning a glare from the professor.
You paused, pleased with the silence that took over the room, no one knew how to counter your argument. Yet again you had put an end to one of Ms. Maximoff’s debates.
“Thank you for your input Ms. Y/L/N. You can go now.” She gestured towards the door and you gave her a confused look.
“Excuse me?”
“You were late for my class, and according to my morals, it is against the rules, so you’ll have to leave.” She explained with the most annoying victorious grin you had ever seen.
You grunted in defeat and walked out of the room. Thankfully this was her last class before Winter break, and you couldn’t wait to get a break from this place and spend your quick vacation sunbathing on the beautiful beaches in Rio de Janeiro.
“It’s fine mom, I’m fine.” You tried to reassure her through the phone.
“I know you’re not, you don’t have to lie to me.”
“Of course I’m not fine, I’ll miss the period of application to college in Brazil. Now I’ll have to wait a whole year, even more if I don’t get in,” you let out all your frustrations.
“I’m sorry Y/N/N,” the pity in her voice somehow made it all worse.
Going to the same college your father attended had been your dream since you were very young. That dream was crushed momentarily when your mother was transferred and you had to move countries, but you devised a plan to make it work. The universe seemed to be playing against you, and now you had to watch it all crumble down again.
“There’s no point in crying about it,” you shrugged, not wanting to spend anymore time on the subject, “there’s a storm coming, my flight was cancelled…” you trailed off.
Not only was it killing you to miss your chance in Brazil, but it was unnerving that you were stuck in school for christmas and new year. The worst part being that everyone had already left, everyone but half a dozen professors, and you. Safe to say you weren’t looking forward to being stuck with them for two whole weeks. But as you said, there was no point in reminiscing on it since there was nothing you could do.
“I’m so sorry,” she sounded genuine, even over the phone, “we’ll make it up to you.” You chuckled softly at how sweet she was being.
“Don’t worry mom, it’s not your fault, plus I don’t think there’s any way to ‘make up’ for this,” your tone exuded confidence, “I’ll be fine, I can even go to college here,” you tried to sound excited but your mother’s silence proved you weren’t fooling anyone. “Worst comes to worse and I’ll just play pranks on the professors that stayed behind too,” you joked trying to lighten the mood.
“Behave,” she warned, although you could hear slight giggling on the other side of the line.
“Bye, mom.”
“Bye, I’ll try to call you tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure.” You hung up and walked back to your room, passing through the empty hallways.
Once there, you let your body fall back on your bed in frustration. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, you wanted to break every piece of furniture inside your room. It was going to be two very long weeks. A knock on the door didn’t give you too much time to think about that.
“Hey dear,” the old woman greeted, opening the door.
“Hey, Mrs. Chren.” Your math professor.
“I just came here to warn you that me, Mrs. Song,” your music professor, ironic isn’t it?, “Mr. Avery, Mr. Griffin and Mrs. Breman are going to town for a few hours, gotta sort out some things before the storm hits, so you’ll be alone for a couple of hours,” you stared at her blankly, “or you could come if you like-”
“Oh, no, Mrs. Chren,” you spilled, already enjoying the idea of being by yourself, “that’s alright, I can survive for a few hours,” you both laughed lightly.
“Alright, here’s my phone number,” she set a piece of paper on the desk, “call me if you need anything, and keep an eye on the telephone down the hall, I’ll call you there if we have any delays.”
That phone was the only way to communicate with the rest of the world, the school being too isolated for your cell phone to get any signal, and no wifi was available since they wanted the students to do their research in books rather than the internet. So, basically, you were completely out of reach but for that one old piece of technology, which was shared amongst everyone.
“Okay, have fun,” you pitched and she thanked you before leaving.
Half an hour later and you finally had the whole place to yourself, so you decided to do all the things you couldn’t do when someone was watching. It was better to have some fun than to spend the rest of those weeks moping around.
You blasted music on your portable speaker while walking around the building. First things first, look into other people’s rooms, you’re nosy and curious, what else could you do?
And it was the best idea. Some of the rooms were locked for these two weeks, but others weren’t and you made some interesting discoveries. Like the fact that the quietest boy in your grade has a huge bag of condoms hidden in his drawer. Or that the girl that claims to hate sports has a football magazine under her bed.
Of course there was also the classic booze and cigarettes hidden away, which wasn’t a surprise, and a hell lot of dirty socks. What is it with these people and not doing their laundry?
The sound of the phone going off in the distance startled you, but you quickly recovered, turning off the music and rushing to answer it.
“Hello.”
“Hi, Y/L/N, it’s Mrs. Song.” She sounded nervous.
“Everything okay?”
“Not quite, it seems like the storm is coming earlier than expected, they closed all the roads which means we’re stuck here in town until further notice.” You took a second to let the information sink in, but she took your silence as incentive to continue. “Anyways, we’re going to stay at a hotel here in the area, and will try to get back as soon as possible. But I’m afraid it’ll be a few days until then.”
“Oh.” Was the only thing you could think of.
“Y/L/N?”
“Yeah, sorry, that’s fine, I have food and a central heating system, so I’ll be fine, are you guys going to be okay though?” You really didn’t know what else to say.
“Of course, don’t worry about us, just be safe and don’t go outside, we’ll keep in contact if you need anything, okay?”
“That’s great, good luck there Mrs. Song.”
“You too dear.”
You couldn’t decide if that was good news or bad news. On one hand you could do whatever you wanted and not have your professors calling you out on everything all the time, plus there would be no dealing with awkward meals just the six of you. On the other hand you would be alone in this huge building for days with mostly nothing to do, it could get lonely.
“Well, gotta make the best of the situation,” you said to no one in particular.
With that idea in mind, you ran back to your room taking out something you’ve had hidden in your room for a few months. A skateboard. Strategically placed on the back of your dressing drawer. How you sneaked that in without anyone noticing was a question you didn’t have the answer for.
You and your friends would always find a way to take your skateboards and rollerblades into town, they did have a great lane there. This was before they graduated, now you had expected to do it again, but never found anyone who’d be willing to risk getting caught and slowly you lost interest in doing it all on your own.
But being all alone was the perfect opportunity to take it for a ride. You couldn’t go outside but the long empty hallways were a perfect place to do just that.
So you did, unbothered by the storm going at full force outside. Unnaturally loud music blasting on your speakers while you sang along, trying different tricks or just trying to go the fastest possible on the smooth wooden floor of the old building.
The next chain of events happened way too fast for you to register. You were speeding down the hallway on your skateboard, which was darker than usual for that time of day, a bird hit a window right as you passed by it, a loud bang echoed through the place and a dark figure suddenly appeared in front of you.
Losing completely your balance, you tripped and, due to the speed, was thrown a few feet across the floor.
“Are you okay?” You were barely able to hear the voice approaching you since music was still playing on the speaker.
You were quick to turn it off, turning to the person in question.
“Jesus fucking christ, are you trying to kill me?” You said, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart as Ms. Maximoff knelt beside you.
“You did set yourself up to get hurt.” She stated referring to all the rules you were breaking.
She helped you sit up, a stinging pain shooting through your shoulder.
“Well, I wasn’t really expecting anyone,” just then your mind caught up with the fact that she was here, when she wasn’t supposed to be, “shouldn’t you be, like, miles away from here?”
“Ouch,” she feigned offense, but you didn’t care, between spending days in there alone or having to be stuck with her you’d rather be alone, “my flight got cancelled, I was lucky to get here now, or I’d die frozen in that storm.”
“I thought the roads were closed.”
“I was already halfway through when I heard on the radio they were closing everything, I thought it would be better to keep going than to turn around.”
“You should’ve turned around,” you weren’t sure if you said that for her good or your own.
“Why do you say that?” She tried to hide the disappointment in her voice, but you caught it.
“Don’t get me wrong, but the other professors are all stuck in town until they reopen the roads, and there’s nothing much to do here.” You tried to get up, but the pain on your shoulder didn’t let you.
“You’re here, we can keep each other company.”
She helped you up, and you begrudgingly accepted.
“And what are we going to do? Debate the morals and ethics of all the rules I’m breaking?” Your tone laced with sarcasm.
“I’m also a human being y’know, not only a philosophy teacher.”
“Oh, really? And here I was thinking you were a robot sent by the government to alienate us students.” That logic didn’t even make sense, but your mind wasn’t able to think straight with the pain and the shock of the whole situation.
She stood in silence, almost analyzing you. Being under her gaze like that made you uncomfortable, and yet you couldn’t move, your legs not wanting to obey your brain. So you stared back at her instead.
The sound of the telephone going off again broke the contest.
“Yeah?”
“Hey Ms. Y/L/N, it’s Mrs. Chren, just calling to see how you’re doing.” The voice answered on the other side of the line.
Your eyes fell on your professor, and since you weren’t really in the mood to talk you decided to pass this on to the woman who had disrupted your peace.
“Great! Actually, Ms. Maximoff is here.”
“She is?”
“Got here a few minutes ago.”
“Oh my, let me talk to her then.”
You passed the phone to her, and turned around looking for your skateboard and speaker. Thankfully the fall hadn’t caused any damage to either of the items, now your shoulder would be a completely different story, hopefully it would be better after a good night of sleep.
Since you weren’t paying any attention to the call, you didn’t see Ms. Maximoff had approached you and almost jumped at the sound of her voice.
“She said the storm might create some energy problems, so we’ll probably lose communication with them.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t.”
With that you ran off to your room, locking yourself in there. You didn’t see her for the rest of that day.
You also managed to avoid her for the next day and half of the one after that. But that couldn’t go on for much longer.
“What are you doing?” You asked, walking into the kitchen and seeing Ms. Maximoff cooking something on the stove. Your nostrils being immediately invaded by a delicious smell.
“Lunch. It’s almost ready.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do this.” Her being nice really wasn’t helping your hate for her.
“I don’t mind, I like to cook,” she turned towards you, “I know you’re not very fond of me, but I won’t let you starve because of that.”
You didn’t know how to respond. It was a nice gesture and a very out-of-the-blue confession. Maybe not a confession, but a statement. Sensing your silence she focused back on the pan still cooking.
“Why though?” The question startled you.
“What?”
“Why don’t you like me? I would risk it’s because I kicked you out of class last week, but I feel like it’s been going on for longer than that.” Her voice was firm, sure of her words, although her body language said the complete opposite. How she kept shifting her weight from one leg to the other, playing with her hair, you couldn’t see her face but you could sense she was dreading the answer.
“Don’t you hate me?” She stopped completely, considering your question before turning back towards you.
“Why would I?”
“Everyone does, at least all the professors do,” that fact didn’t affect you, you had given them reason to hate you.
“Well, I don’t,” she kept her eyes locked on yours, “you didn’t answer my question.”
“Why do you care?” You re-assumed your classic nonchalant demeanor, taking a seat on the kitchen table.
She didn’t say anything as she served you both a plate of pasta with tomato sauce. Slowly you brought a forkful of it to your mouth, mindlessly moaning at the taste of it.
“Holy shit this is amazing,” she smiled shyly, looking down at her own plate and you quickly felt self conscious about your actions.
Could she blame you? How did she turn such a simple dish into something so good?
“Thanks,” she replied, still avoiding your eyes.
Lunch went on silently after that, the sounds of metal clinking on glass was nearly deafening. In all fairness you were afraid of saying anything else, which was unusual.
“You still didn’t answer my question,” she blurted out suddenly, causing you to look at her.
“What question?” She let out a dry laugh, almost like she was mocking you, which only made you despise her a little bit more.
“You know which question.”
“Because you can be quite a prick sometimes.”
“Excuse me?” She looked at you with disbelief.
“Like that time you kicked me out-”
“Oh no, you were late, those are the rules.” She interrupted you.
“See, you’re always too caught up on the rules, live a little.”
She just shook her head in amusement, she was enjoying this, but so were you. She gave you the green card to give your opinion, and you damn well were taking it.
“What else?”
“There was that time you took away my necklace for no reason.”
“You weren’t paying attention in class.”
“I’m never paying attention in class,” you argued.
“And yet you always have an answer at the tip of your tongue don’t you?”
“It’s a talent.” You responded full of pride, earning an eye roll from her. “You also love to pick on me.”
“How so?” She played dumb, she knew what you were talking about, the mischief in her eyes, the way she leaned on her elbows with interest, it all gave her away, you could read her like an open book.
Nonetheless, you responded.
“You always call on me when I’m clearly not interested in participating in the debate.” You challenged, yet her expression didn’t change one bit. You were aware of how insulting this was to her classes, implying they were boring, but you didn’t care.
“And, somehow, your opinions are always on point,” she softened her expression catching you by surprise, “that’s what I like about you, you challenge me, make me think outside the box, that’s why I always call on you.”
The confession was unexpected, and you were completely speechless. It would’ve never crossed your mind to consider those discussions like that. She was enjoying your shock, your confusion, and since you didn’t say anything she took the liberty to clear both your empty plates, leaving you alone with your thoughts.
It took you a good few minutes to come back to reality and head to your own bedroom.
Thinking back to the past few months, some details started to come to light and make you question everything. You hated Ms. Maximoff, just like all the other professors, but you did stay around for longer than necessary after class was done. You never paid attention to the debates she proposed, but whenever she called on you, you didn’t give half answers, you gave full, well developed ones.
You kept thinking if your hate for her was just a consequence of your general hate to this place, to the rules they impose on you. Was the fact that all of the other professors weren’t particularly fond of you so ingrained in your mind that you projected that into everyone?
Guilt flooded you. Guilt from being so rude to her. Guilt from insulting her. Guilt from being a complete asshole during her classes, while all this time she enjoyed your presence there.
Throughout the rest of the afternoon you tried to brush the feeling off by occupying your mind. Calling your parents while the power wasn’t cut off yet. Organizing your room. Raiding other people’s rooms.
None of that helped, so that’s how you ended up with a stolen bottle of vodka in hand trying to get the old TV in the basement to work. The fact that it’s the 21st century and this damn school only has one very old television hidden away is shocking to you. On the bright side you didn’t cross paths with Ms. Maximoff again.
Which is different to say that she hasn’t been crossing your mind every few minutes.
After three rough sips of the alcohol, a few frustrated attempts at getting the damn image to stabilize and many thoughts about your philosophy professor, you found yourself stumbling to the professors’ wing of the building.
It was a completely new and unexplored area for you. The place was forbidden for students during the school year. Thankfully this was a situation to which that rule didn’t apply.
Stumbling on your feet, finding her room wasn’t a challenge, the light seeping through the cracks, contrasting with the darkness of night, gave it away. With some hesitation, you finally knocked on the door.
“Y/N?” There was some surprise in her voice, but you interpreted that as an invitation to come in, so you opened the old wooden door being faced with her soft figure sitting in bed, a book in lap. “Is something wrong?”
“Uhm… no, not really,” you weren’t quite sure why you even came here in the first place.
“Then what is it?”
“Do you wanna watch a movie?” You blurted out, surprising the both of you.
“A movie?” She quirked a brow at you and you couldn’t help this shyness that took over you all of a sudden.
“Yeah,” you practically whispered, “I’ve got booze.” You lifted the bottle still on your hands, trying to lighten the mood.
“Where did you get that?” She said, her body tensing slightly.
“Does it matter?”
“It’s against the rules.” You rolled your eyes at that, gaining your confidence back.
“Rules and more rules… throw the rules away, there’s no one here to catch us, live a little.” You challenged, her expression becoming something unreadable. “So, movie?”
She put her book aside, her face something akin of enjoyment and displeasure, if that was even possible. A smirk grew on your face as she walked past you, taking the bottle with her. Once you realized she might not be giving in to your persuasion but could actually be confiscating the bottle you ran after her.
“Hey, what are you doing with that?” You tripped, almost falling face first into the floor, earning a chuckle from the woman.
“Catching up to you,” she said, taking a sip of the alcohol, the ease with which she did it erupted unwanted thoughts into your mind, and you were quick to brush them off.
She kept going, leaving you behind, still lost in a daze.
“How do you know where to go?” You shouted again, this time being more careful when running towards her.
“There’s only one TV in this whole place,” you gave her a surprised look, “what? You’re not the only one who likes to snoop around.”
This was a side to her you never expected to see, but certainly weren’t complaining. You walked side by side in silence, although it wasn’t an uncomfortable one.
Reaching the basement, you were quick to throw yourself on the old couch, and she just stood on the doorway.
“I thought we were going to watch a movie,” she referred to the flickering image on the screen.
“Yeah, well, I couldn’t get it to work,” you admitted, suddenly questioning why you even invited her to do something you couldn’t do.
“Did you just call me here to fix it?” She asked playfully, making her way to the apparatus.
“Maybe,” you played along, watching as she tried to fix the image, moving some of the wires behind it.
Eventually you got to the conclusion that she did all that handyman work for theatrics, since a firm hit of her hand on the side of the device caused the image to stabilize. Was she trying to impress you or was it just damn luck? No matter what it was, the whole scenario erupted even more unwanted thoughts.
“It’s not perfect, but now it’s watchable,” she mocked.
“Oh, thank you, great Ms. Maximoff, what would I do without you?” You added dramatically as she flopped herself by your side.
“No, don’t call me that, it makes me feel old.”
“You are old.” It was just a playful comment, and thankfully she didn’t take it personally.
“I’m twenty four.”
“See, old,” you earned a light slap on the forearm.
“At least I’m a professor, you’re almost nineteen and still haven't graduated high school.”
You scoffed indignantly, shoving her slightly.
“Hey, that’s not my fault, the stupid school wouldn’t let me transfer my grades from Brazil,” you countered.
“Oh, now it’s the school's fault.”
“Of course, my grades there were excellent,” they weren’t, “all I needed was for them to validate them,” also a lie. In truth, your grades in Brazil sucked, the curriculum was completely different and you hadn’t bothered enough to figure out what was going on. You would’ve been held back a grade either way, but changing schools gave you the chance to blame someone else, and you always took it.
“I don’t believe you,” annoyingly enough, not everyone bought into the lie.
“What do you believe then?” The movie played in the background, completely forgotten.
“That you weren’t smart enough to keep up,” her green orbs stared directly into yours, stirring in you this feeling of anger or desire, something you couldn’t quite place.
“Ah, você fica aí se achando toda espertinha mas- (ah, you think you’re so smart but-),” you were interrupted by her lips crashing into yours in an almost desperate, hungry kiss.
It didn’t take long for you to respond, as if you expected her to kiss, although you couldn’t quite understand how. Your hands moved up her sides, tangling themselves on her hair, as hers dropped to your waist, pulling you to cradle her lap.
The kiss wasn’t sweet and delicate, but needy and nearly aggressive. You pushed her impossibly close, feeling her hands doing the same. You craved her, you needed her, like you’ve been severely dehydrated and she was the last cup of water in the world.
Your body responded to her, every touch, every sound. She laid you on your back, hovering over your form, movements calculated to match yours. Her lips touching your skin, exploring every piece of flesh she could find left you burning with desire.
It wasn’t a battle, it was a dance. And you danced together, making each other see stars, reaching heaven and hell in minutes. Everything about her drew you in, the taste of her tongue sliding with yours, the heat her body radiated, the patterns she drew with the tip of her fingers and the places her mouth took you.
Why is it that we crave freedom so much, and yet, when we find ourselves face to face with it, we turn away, pretend it’s not there?
You woke up to silence. Complete silence. Wanda’s naked body laying underneath yours on the couch.
The events from the night brought a smile to your face, which didn’t last long when you lifted yourself up and was hit with a massive headache, the exercise also making your bruised shoulder slightly sore. As quietly as possible, you looked for your clothes scattered across the floor, leaving the woman to sleep for a little while longer.
The hallways to your room were unusually dark considering it was no longer night, but you didn’t think too much about it. Changing into clean clothes, you decided to make some food since you didn’t have any medicine.
It was no surprise that the kitchen was, also, unusually dark, and you were slightly thankful, the light wouldn’t make the pain in your head any easier to deal with. Didn’t take long for you to figure out why.
Opening the fridge in search of some eggs you were surprised the lights didn’t go on immediately. Investigating further, you flickered the lightswitch multiple times and nothing happened. Great, you were out of power.
That explained why the TV had turned off on it’s own. At least the stove still worked, you’d just have to be quick to finish the refrigerated food so it wouldn’t spoil. You frustratingly tried to find a pan to cook those eggs, still kinda shook from the headache.
“Hey,” Wanda’s voice called your attention from the doorway.
“We’re out of power,” you simply responded, crouched down on the floor, searching the bottom cabinet.
“We need to talk,” she ignored your previous statement, and, to be honest, you didn’t pay too much attention to hers.
You stood up with the pan in hands, a breathy yes leaving your mouth in celebration, only to find her standing a few steps from you.
“Oh, umm, what do you want to talk about?” You knew the answer, you just hoped you were wrong about it.
“Last night.” And you were right.
“Okay.”
“It was wrong.” She started sternly, you expected it, but it doesn't mean it didn’t hurt. “We shouldn’t have drank. I shouldn’t have kissed you. You shouldn’t have kissed me back.” With every punch to your gut she also took a step closer. “I shouldn’t have done it. Shouldn’t have let it get too far.”
Her body was now mere inches from yours and you fought the urge to reach out for her.
“But you did,” you breathed out, “and so did I.”
“You are my student.”
“Only for six more months.”
“Still…,”
The closeness didn’t let you think straight, her green orbs bore into yours with a glint you couldn’t decipher. You felt suddenly better, the headache no longer mattered, your shoulder wasn’t a bother. All you could concentrate on was her breath so close to your face.
“I don’t care.” You held your breath in expectation.
“Good, neither do I.”
She connected your lips on a kiss. Soft, passionate, different than the one from last night, but just as good. She lifted you up on the kitchen counter and you wrapped yours legs around her, not wanting the moment to end.
Safe to say that breakfast was delayed.
The next two days were filled with just about that, the lack of power didn’t leave that many options to pass time. Although you weren’t complaining, there was no way of knowing for how long this thing between you and Wanda could go on, and you would make the best out of every second of it.
“I think I owe you an apology,” you were sitting by one of the windows, your back leaning on her chest, a blanket draped over both of your laps.. The sky was clear for the first time since the storm, giving the perfect view of the night.
“You do?”
“Yes, I projected all my… uhm… negative feelings for- for everything, I guess, on you, and that’s not fair. So, I’m sorry.” A weight was lifted from your chest as you relaxed in her embrace.
“Thanks, but I don’t mind, it’s all in the past... It’s in the past right?” You chuckled softly.
“Depends on your concept of ‘past’.” She fell silent, both of you enjoying the clear night sky. “You see, light takes time to travel through space, and since the stars are millions of light years away from us, that means that the light we see from them right now was emitted a long time ago. We’re seeing how they were years ago, some of them might not even exist anymore.”
“That screws with our whole concept of time. Past, present and future.”
“O passado é história, o futuro é mistério, o agora é uma dádiva e por isso se chama presente. (The past is history, the future is a mystery, today is a gift, that’s why we call it the present.)” You mindlessly muttered, feeling Wanda’s hands going underneath your shirt.
“It’s so hot when you talk to me in portuguese.” Her voice was husky against your ears, sending shivers up and down your spine.
“Stop being so horny, that was from a children’s movie.” You managed to get out, turning around to face her.
“Still… it was hot,” her breath against your skin was making you crazy, her hands caressing your bare skin underneath your garments making you dizzy.
“Isso porque você ainda não viu as coisas que eu posso fazer com você(That’s because you haven’t seen all the things I can do to you),” you teased and her hands squeezed your hips, pulling you closer.
The feeling of her lips on yours wasn’t new, but still knocked your breath away everytime. Or maybe this time it was the sound of someone clearing their throat that caused that reaction.
“Mrs. Chren,” you quickly pulled away from Wanda, your heart rate going a thousand miles a minute.
“I tried to call, but I see the power hasn’t been restored yet.” Her expression was stern, serious, not what you expected.
Wanda was frozen in fear, eyes wide and mouth agape. She had put everything to lose because of this, her job, her reputation. It was like watching her wait for all the things she built for herself to crumble. This broke your heart.
“Mrs Chren, I- ” you started but the words died on your throat, not sure what to say.
“I won’t say anything,” she started and you felt your entire body relaxing, “but this stops now. We’re all in the kitchen by the way.”
She didn’t say anything else. The woman just came in to scare the fucking shit out of you, and then walked away like nothing had happened.
Wanda was still deeply lost in her turmoil of thoughts.
“Hey,” you took her hands in yours, feeling them still trembling, “it’s okay.”
“It’s okay,” she repeated in an attempt to convince herself it was true. It seemed to work when her eyes met yours, no longer filled with fear, but with hurt. “What about us?”
“It’s just for six months,” you reassured her, although you still felt like you’ve just taken a punch to the gut.
You brushed the initial shock away, Wanda did the same, as you both got up and made your way to the kitchen.
“There you are, how was spending a whole week on your own?” Mr Griffin asked as soon as you stepped into his line of view.
“It was great,” you answered, “I assume the roads are finally clear?”
“Yes, it took a while but they are,” Mrs Song complemented. “Well, I’m exhausted, I’m happy you’re both okay,” she pitched to you and Wanda before leaving to her room. Soon after, all the other professors did the same, leaving you and Wanda alone again.
“What now?” You asked, she was the one who had to make that decision.
“We stop?” She let out a dry chuckle. “We sneak around?”
“I like that.” You approached her, pecking her lips.
It wasn’t a permanent solution. It was most likely the worst solution you’d come up with, but if she wanted this, then you wouldn’t deny it.
Nonetheless, as you laid on your own bed, in your own room, alone, you couldn’t help but think if this was really a good idea. If it was worth the risk of sneaking around, the risk of potentially getting caught.
You didn’t dwell too much on the meanings of that, you just let yourself enjoy it, enjoy her.
The whole secret thing wasn’t as fun as you’d expected, but it was quite an adrenaline rush. Every little moment had much more value considering all the trouble you’d go to get them.
With a school full of students and teachers, sleeping in each others’ rooms was impossible, so you stuck to… other locations. The supplies closet at night, her classroom at the end of the day. You’d hide in the forest, that surrounded the building, during the weekends and try to have lunch together in town every now and then.
As the months passed, certain thoughts started to invade your mind, thoughts you’ve been trying to ignore ever since your first night with Wanda. What would happen when the semester did, in fact, end?
You would no longer be a student, but that also meant you’d no longer see Wanda every day. You’d go to college, who knows where, and Wanda would stay there, living in this old school, at least an hour away from anything, with no means of communication other than that telephone she’d have to share with hundreds of students and teachers.
“Hey, I’m so glad you called, we have good news!” Your mother spoke excitedly through the phone. You had been calling them every two weeks, mainly discussing what you would do after the semester was done.
“That’s great, I’ve been needing some of those.”
“Is school getting to you?” You hadn’t told them about Wanda, they knew she was your professor, and it would’ve just been weird.
“Yeah, the usual, so what’s the news?” You shrugged it off, trying to cheer yourself up.
“Right, so, I know you missed the vestibulares back in Brazil, but your father made some calls and the board has seen your grades and they agreed to give you a spot starting in August!” She exclaimed, letting out a little squeal at the end.
It was like the universe was finally starting to work to your advantage. For the past six months you’ve been trying to ignore the fact that you would no longer have the chance to go to the college you’ve always wanted to, Wanda helped a lot by occupying your mind with other things, but now the it was right there, in front of, you just had to take it.
You matched your mom's excitement, talking details of flights, living situation and all. It wasn’t until you hung up what this meant for you and Wanda.
Being only hours apart was already problematic, but studying in a different country, that’s a whole new kind of problem. Different time zones, different schedules, completely different lives. Nonetheless it was your dream, there wasn’t a decision to be made, only a truth to be told.
Wanda didn’t make it easy though. She was testing you every single day, driving you crazy and there was nothing you could do about it. It hadn’t hit her yet what was waiting at the end of the semester, and you didn’t have the heart to tell her.
So you kept that up, for the whole semester you kept that realization hidden from her, never building up the courage to have this conversation. You held off for so long, until you couldn’t anymore.
Everyone had just stepped out of philosophy class, leaving you and the woman alone.
“You know,” she started to walk towards you with hunger in her eyes, “you’ve been awfully quiet during my classes.” You were dazed by the wholeness of her, almost giving in and ignoring those thoughts you didn’t want to say out loud.
“Também, com as roupas que você veste, fica difícil concentrar em qualquer outra coisa. (With the clothes you’re wearing, it’s kinda hard to concentrate on anything else.)” You relished on the effect the words had on her, how her eyes turned a shade darker, her eyes fell immediately to your lips at the sound of them.
It took everything in you to stop her when she gave an indication of connecting both your lips, realizing that the longer you waited the more it was gonna hurt.
“Wan…”
“Oh, c’mon, you’re graduating in two weeks, are you really gonna stop because of the rules,” she mocked, “what did you tell me that one time? Live a little?” You weren’t falling for her teasing and challenges.
“It’s not about the rules…,” she gave you a look of confusion, “I’m going to college, in Brazil, and you’re staying here, we’ll be-” the words pained to come out, “it’s… a whole different continent, how are we going to make this work if we’re miles away from each other all the time?” Her demeanor changed, the weight of the future falling onto her. “How are we going to be together if I won’t even be able to reach you for months at a time?”
There was an internal battle taking over her. It was the first time you had uttered those words to her, maybe even the first time that problem had ever crossed her mind, she needed time to think it over.
In respect of that, you picked your back and started making your way to the door. It hurt, but that was on you. You fought back tears and tried to ignore the ever growing pain on your chest. There was no way this was going to end well, and you knew from the moment you started it.
You were stopped by a hand wrapping itself around your wrist, you turned to meet those beautiful green eyes of hers.
“I don’t give a shit, we’ll make it work,” with that she attacked your lips, and you didn’t stop her.
“Y/N Y/L/N,” was announced, and you walked up on stage to take your diploma. Your blue cap'n gown flowing behind you.
Your parents were in the middle of the audience, taking pictures like crazy, and you smiled at them, happy they could be there to share this moment. Wanda was sitting on the first row with the other professors, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift towards her.
As you walked back to your place you caught her discreetly leaving the auditorium. You quickly followed behind, leaving the mess of sounds and entering the peaceful and silent outdoors
“Hey,” you called after her, but stopped dead in your tracks when she turned around, trying so hard to contain her tears.
And you weren’t far behind, tears of your own pooling on your eyelids. This was the moment you’ve been dreading for the past two weeks. This made it all real. You were officially out of high school, you weren’t going to see her everyday anymore, you’d be miles away.
“We can’t make this work, can we?” She said exasperated and you let out a deep sight.
“Wan…”
She didn’t let you say anything else, engulfing you in a passionate kiss. The taste of salt on your lips was obvious, you just weren’t sure if it was because of your tears or hers.
Against your will, you parted for air, resting your foreheads together. Neither of you wanting to let go of the other.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered, not sure what you were apologizing for.
“It’s not your fault.” She reassured.
Still your heart ached. Your chest felt heavy, like a whole piano had been resting on top of it. This was the end.
“For what it is worth,” you opened your eyes only to be met by her green ones, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
You took a moment to take one last look at her. The last time you’d see her. Her beautiful green eyes, her plump lips, her soft brown hair. You took in everything. How her eyes were filled with pain and adoration, how her lips formed a smile, one that no longer held hope, how her hands kept you close, how her body comforted yours perfectly.
“I do hope you and I, somehow, end up happy together.” You gave her one last kiss. “Goodbye Wanda.” You let go. Tears streamed down your face as you walked back inside, not looking back.
Perhaps that’s why humans fear liberty so much, we are scared of the pain our own decisions can cause.
