The Mystery Club - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

The trail to the truth

Hesitant hands like hers touched her shoulders. Wanda adjusted herself on the couch, expectant eyes meeting yours.

"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Your question came out in a startled whisper, and you turned your face to look around the garage as if expecting your dads to come down at any moment to catch you in the act.

Wanda swallowed all her own nervousness to nod at you, offering a small smile as she caught your attention again with the gentle tug on your waist. "Don't think too much about it. I just want it to be with you if you want it too."

To her delight, your gaze softened and you looked at her so meekly that Wanda was sure she was blushing. You leaned over her and the brunette forgot how to breathe.

"I think it's going to be our little secret." You whispered as you brought your hands to her face. Wanda didn't think about what that was, she was 12 years old and she was kissing her best friend. She doesn't want to think about hiding anything, or what it meant to tremble over your touch, she just wants it to keep happening.

You broke first, giggling flushed, and hiding your face in her neck. Wanda chuckled too, her stomach turning anxiously.

"We...should we...try with our tongues now?" She takes a risk and feels you tense up against her. Quickly, she clarifies, "L-like in the movies! Only if you want to!"

You accepted it - Wanda couldn't understand how you could follow her suggestions so easily when most of the time she had no idea what she was doing. Her favorite partner in crime.

She broke off this time, breathing hard, her face as red as your own.

"It feels funny." You muttered in embarrassment. It must have been true, you two were so young - Too young in early pre-teen years yet not understanding how good it could get one day. Wanda giggled shyly, and it was her turn to fall on you.

A noise on the basement stairs made her pull you away, and soon you two would try to hide from the older twin what you were doing.

Almost six years after that, Wanda woke up in the same garage. It looked nothing like the one in the dream she was having - everything that belonged to the Rogers Stark family had been taken away in moving boxes years before. Now there were beer cans, second-hand furniture, and a blackboard with clues to a murder theory of the mischievous boy who played in those rooms almost every day of the week.

Wanda stretched in her armchair, slowly waking up. The pot she had been smoking burned out on the small table beside the armchair, and she yawned before getting up.

The garage had artificial lighting, but Wanda knew it was daylight because she could see the sunbeams through the gaps in the dirty windows in the doorway. She picked up some of the cans from the night before and threw away the rest of the Chinese food. She walked to the sink of the place dragging her feet and washed her face before brushing her teeth. The half-broken mirror exposed her tired and messy appearance, and Wanda sighed softly.

Tying her hair into a bun, she went back to her comfortable corner. Her cell phone was somewhere in the mess, and it took her a few minutes to find it.

Charles called. A dozen times. And he sent messages about her not telling him she wasn't going home for the night. No messages from Erik.

Your notifications made her smile immediately. She sat back down and opened the messenger app.

"What are you doing today? I want to see you."

Wanda bites her lips, looking at an envelope on the coffee table. She sighs softly, thinking about the past few days. How impactful it was to have you back in her life, making her feel more alive than she ever had, especially after Pietro. Your lack of hesitation in proving that Wanda could count on you, and how easily, in her heart, it was easy for her to forgive you.