The Mystery Club - Wanda Maximoff x Reader

The Bonfire

Wanda was sleeping deeply face down on your bed.

She must have been tired. After yesterday's revelations, she cried herself to sleep. You drove back to the dormitory, while she cried in the passenger seat, and then you took her to your bed, where she tried to pretend that she had managed to stop while sobbing low into the pillow.

Your classes were starting soon, but you weren't very willing to leave her all alone. Not after what you had discovered together yesterday. The red grades on your report card encouraged you to think it over.

Leaving a note on the nightstand, you left the room as quietly as you could, ignoring the way your heart was tightening.

Neither Chemistry nor Literature stuck in your mind very well during the morning, while you knew that Wanda was feeling miserable in your room. Nor did the presence of Yelena Belova next to you, who didn't know the truth about the death of her best friend.

You skipped History period and went back to the dorm, and were surprised to find Wanda watching television.

"Hey, you're still here." You almost jumped with excitement, and Wanda offers you a tired smile, staring at you as you closed the door. "Are you hungry? We can buy something..."

"Come here, detka." She interrupts gently, and you drop your backpack on the floor to join her on her bed. Wanda adjusts the blanket to cover you as well, and you sigh as you lie down beside her. Wanda turns to look at you, resting her face in her folded hands as you do. "Sorry about yesterday, I didn't mean to scare you."

You knew she was talking about your basically panicking crisis about everything that was happening. The way you couldn't help her stop crying.

You smiled small, moving one of your hands to tuck her hair behind her ear.

"You don't have to apologize for anything." You assure, moving your hand to her cheek. You smooth the skin, and when you notice an almost invisible bruise, you frown slightly. "What...?"

"I had a fight with Charles. I provoked him, it wasn't his fault." She declares quickly. It takes a moment for you to understand, but as soon as you do, you tense up immediately. You pull your hand away and start to stand up.

"Did he hit you, Wanda? For God's sake, I'm going to-"

"No, you won't. Come back here." She interrupts you, grabbing your blouse and pushing you back onto the bed with a hard tug. With your resistance, she climbs on top of you. "Stay here with me, please."

"But Wanda, that's not right. He can't-"

"I know." She cuts in, hands on your shoulders. You swallow dryly, looking up, aware of the way your hips are connected. "But I think he'll get what he deserves with the whole my dad thing. Can we focus on something else?"

You swallow dryly, nodding. Wanda smiles, leaning in to kiss you. It's very quiet, at first. Affectionate.

Wanda traces a finger over your cheek as her mouth presses on yours, and you caress her thighs.

But soon, the room fills with the sounds of gasping sighs because your tongues are sliding together and Wanda has begun to grind against your stomach, and your hands squeezing your hips don't help her control her breathing.

The make-out session slows down in intensity, because you don't think that's what Wanda needs right now, even though she grunts impatiently at the way you've changed the pace, and you're using all your mental control to lay her down on the bed and back off a little.

"We need to talk about yesterday." You whisper once the hot kisses have stopped, and Wanda opens her eyes at you. She kisses your cheek and sits up, pushing her messy hair back. You sit facing her, one hand on her thigh. "I'm sorry-"