POV: High school AU
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Natasha Pov
Bruce captured my lips in yet another hungry kiss, his hands unable to let go of my body.
"Hold on, hold on," I breathed out in between the kiss. He let out a whine at the interruption.
"We have to go. The bell's about to ring," I whisper.
"We can just hide here," he says, pulling me to him, "Or get out of here. Nobody would notice anyway."
I pull his boxers and jeans back up.
"We can't, baby. Put your shirt back on, we have to go," I say, handing him his shirt that was discarded on the floor. He huffs, grumbling under his breath. I watch his muscles flex as he puts his shirt on, his body sweating from earlier. I see him grin at me and roll my eyes. I begin fixing myself as well.
I peek out from the slightly ajar door of the janitor's closet, scanning the hallway. Seeing that the coast is clear, Bruce and I step out, seamlessly blending in with the rest of the students. We head to my locker, where Bruce hands me his textbooks for safekeeping. Suddenly, a loud noise echoes through the hallway, and I instantly know it's Steve and Tony making their entrance.
"Yo, Bruce! We gotta bounce!" Tony yells.
"Yeah, Coach Rhodey is waiting," Steve adds. Without a second thought, Bruce dashes towards them.
"What about lunch?" I call after him.
"Sorry. Coach needs me," he shouts back, already disappearing into the crowd.
A pang of disappointment hits me as his words sink in. It's clear where his priorities lie - with his coach, his team, his friends. And though I understand, it doesn't lessen the sting.
I shake off the feeling, reminding myself that this is just how things are. But as I close my locker and head to my next class, I can't help but wish that things were different.
As I turn to close my locker, I collide with a tall figure. I look up to see her leaning against my locker, effectively trapping me between the cold metal and her body.
I sigh, rolling my eyes. "No, Wanda," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Oh, come on, princess," Wanda retorts, her voice low and smooth. She's so close that I can smell her perfume - a sweet, intoxicating scent that makes my head spin.
Why does she have to smell so good?
I mentally chastise myself as I realize I've been caught in her captivating emerald gaze.
My heart races as she moves closer, towering over me. I blush when I catch her staring at me. Why was I feeling like this? Why did my body react this way whenever Wanda was near me? It should be Bruce who makes my heart race, not Wanda. The thought of Bruce causes me to turn away and gently push her back.
"Besides, I have plans," I lie to her, hoping she doesn't see through my facade.
"Don't lie to me, princess. I know he ditched you. Again," Wanda says, her grip firm on my hand as I attempt to walk away. I turn to face her, trying to keep my composure.
"He didn't ditch me. He has football practice. There's a big game this weekend, you know," I retort, hoping my voice sounds more confident than I feel.
"Will you come cheer for me at my game too?" Wanda asks, a hint of excitement in her voice. I look at her, considering her request.
"If I say yes, will you let me go?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. She nods, her eyes never leaving mine.
"Fine," I say, meeting her gaze. "Now let me go."
Wanda grins as she releases my hand. "See you there, princess," she calls out as I head towards the cafeteria. Despite everything, an unexplainable smile finds its way onto my face.
The weekend finally rolls around, and the anticipation is palpable. I make my way into the packed basketball court with my cheer team, the air buzzing with excitement. The crowd is already cheering on the players as they warm up, their energy infectious. I spot Wanda among them, her focus on the game ahead. But then, her eyes land on me, and a huge smile appears on her face. Despite the noise and the crowd, for that one moment, it feels like it's just the two of us.
But even in this moment of connection, I can't shake off the feeling of loneliness that's been creeping up on me. Bruce has been distant lately, ignoring my calls and texts. Our plans keep falling through, each cancellation chipping away at my patience. I miss the times when it was just the two of us, when he would look at me the way Wanda is looking at me now. But those moments are becoming rarer, and I can't help but feel a pang of longing for what used to be.
The teams line up, the whistle blows, and the game begins. It's unlike any game I've seen before. Both teams are playing to their strengths, their determination evident in every move they make. It's a tough match, the tension palpable in the air. The crowd is on the edge of their seats, their cheers echoing through the packed court.
And there's Wanda, a key player in the game. But as the match progresses, I notice a change in her. Wanda, who usually plays with a calm and collected demeanor, is growing more and more frustrated. Every missed shot, every lost opportunity seems to be weighing on her. I can only watch from the sidelines, my heart aching for her.
Wanda's eyes land on me, looking for reassurance. I meet her gaze, offering her a smile and mouthing, "You got this." She nods, a grin spreading across her face. It's as if my words have ignited a spark in her. The frustration that had been clouding her performance seems to subside, replaced by a calm determination.
The game resumes, and it's like watching a completely different team. Wanda's playing with renewed vigor, her every move precise and calculated. The rest of the team follows suit, their synergy evident in their coordinated attacks and defenses.
And then, before I know it, the final whistle blows. They've won the match. The whole court erupts into cheers, the sound deafening. But amidst the noise and the celebration, I can only see Wanda, her face lit up with joy and relief. And I know, in that moment, that everything was worth it.
She races towards me, her excitement palpable. In one swift motion, she lifts me up, her strength surprising me. "Thank you, princess," Wanda whispers into my ear. Despite the noise around us, I hear her loud and clear. Her words send a warm feeling coursing through me. "No need," I reply, my voice steady.
"You were great out there."
My phone rings, interrupting the moment. I quickly compose myself, glancing at the caller ID. It's Bruce.
"I gotta go, Wanda. Bruce's game is about to start," I tell her, trying to keep my voice steady. She tries to hide the disappointment on her face, but I catch a glimpse of it. I feel a pang of guilt.
Wanda captures my gaze, her eyes filled with a silent plea.
"Please, stay, princess. Just for a while," she implores.
I want to stay, to revel in the celebration with her, but I cant. Bruce is waiting for me, and despite everything that has transpired, I feel a strong need to be there for him.
"I'm sorry," I apologize, my words sincere. Without waiting for her response, I rush back to my cheer team and hurry towards the football fields.
Bruce's game begins, and unlike with Wanda, he barely registers my presence. Despite being his biggest supporter, I feel like a ghost on the sidelines. This proves to be a tough game for Bruce's team, and I dread the outcome. I've seen how Bruce reacts when they lose a game - the frustration, the disappointment. It's a side of him that I wish I didn't have to see.
By the end of the game, the outcome is clear. Bruce's team has lost. The crowd disperses, the excitement replaced by a somber silence. I make my way to the locker room, my heart heavy. As I meet up with Bruce, I brace myself for the storm that's about to come.
"Hey, baby. Are you alright?" I ask him softly. He laughs sarcastically, angrily slamming his locker shut. I jump at the sound, the loud bang echoing in the otherwise quiet locker room.
"Do I look f-ing okay to you?" he yells, his voice harsh and filled with frustration.
Bruce paces back and forth, frustration etched on his face. The locker room is filled with a tension you could cut with a knife. I watch him, my heart aching.
"Bruce," I begin, my voice barely above a whisper, "it's just a game. You did your best."
He whirls around to face me, his eyes flashing with anger.
"You call what happened out there my best?" he snaps, growing angrier and disgusted. "I was pathetic!"
"Come on, Bruce. Don't talk like that. You -" I try to reason with him, but he cuts me off.
"How the hell would you even know? You weren't there!" he yells in my face.
I reel back, shocked. "Are you kidding me?" I yell back. "I was there! I am there every single time! I call, I text but I receive silence from your end!"
"But you weren't there when it mattered!" he retorts, his voice echoing in the locker room.
We argue back and forth, the words becoming harsher, the accusations more hurtful. Finally, Bruce loses his patience.
"Get out, Natasha!" he yells, pointing towards the locker room door.
"I... I'm sorry, Bruce," I stammer, tears streaming down my face.
"Just leave, Natasha!" he yells again, his voice cold and distant.
I look back at him, deeply hurt. I wanted to be there for him, but now I'm realizing that our relationship was destined to fail from the start.
"If I leave, don't expect me to come back," I say, my voice steady despite the tears.
"Good! Get out, damn it!" he yells.
"Screw this. I'm done." I mutter.
With that, I turn on my heel and leave the locker room.
I stumble out of the locker room, tears streaming down my cheeks. The shock of Bruce's words still echo in my ears. He didn't even care that I wasn't coming back. He didn't care that he'd lost me forever. I can't believe it.
I'm shocked, hurt, and my heart feels like it's been ripped out of my chest.
As I blindly make my way through the hallway, I bump into someone. I look up to see Wanda, her eyes filled with concern. "Natasha?" she asks, her voice filled with worry. "What happened?"
I shake my head, unable to form the words. Wanda doesn't press for details. Instead, she wraps an arm around me and guides me outside. The cool evening air is a sharp contrast to the stifling atmosphere of the locker room.
She helps me into her car and drives me home. The ride is silent, but it's a comfortable silence. It's clear that Wanda is giving me space to process what just happened.
Once we reach my home, Wanda helps me inside and up to my bedroom. She helps me into bed, pulling the covers up to my chin. She sits on the edge of the bed, her hand gently brushing away the tears that are still streaming down my face.
"Try to get some rest, Natasha," she says softly. "We can talk about it in the morning, if you want."
I hesitate for a moment, then shake my head. "Can you stay, Wanda?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't want to be alone right now."
Wanda nods, moving to sit next to me on the bed. "Of course, Natasha," she says, her voice filled with warmth. "I'm here for you."
We sit in silence for a while, the only sound being the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Then, I find myself opening up to Wanda, revealing things I've never told anyone before.
"Bruce... he was my weakness," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. "I kept going back to him, even though I knew it was a mistake. I guess... I guess I just prefer familiar things, even if they're bad for me."
Wanda listens quietly, offering comfort and understanding. After a while, she asks, "And what about me, Natasha? Am I bad for you?"
I look at her, surprised by her question. Then, I shake my head and manage a small smile. "Nah, you're not so bad, Maximoff."
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