Jinx // Multifandom One Shots

Wanda Maximoff x Reader ▷ Chapstick

Warnings: None. Just fluffy cuteness.

Word Count: 1155 words.

~

I walk down the glass stairs inside Stark Tower, towards the lower part of the main floor. I tug at the hoodie in my hands, pulling it over my head. A small smile tugs at my lips at the sight of my best friends, Clint and Sam bickering over something in the kitchen near a box of cereal. I roll my eyes at their enthusiasm.

"Hello boys." I greet, my smile stretching even wider. "Arguing over who's the better bird again?"

Sam sighs, turning towards me. "Hawkguy over here thinks that a bow and arrow are better in combat than wings." Sam says, pointing at Clint over his shoulder with his thumb. "I was trying to explain that I use guns too, as well as the fact that when I fall off buildings I don't have to rely on Tony or Vision to save me."

Clint lifts a finger, a smirk on his face. "But what about that time Bucky ripped your wings off? What use were you then?" He says.

Sam scoffs. "I wasn't crippled, I could still run. What happens when you run out of arrows huh?"

"I never run out of arrows."

I roll my eyes, turning to the fridge to grab myself some milk. The cool carton meets my fingers, a satisfying slosh sounding as I place it on the counter. I grab a bowl and spoon, not taking much notice of the arguing taking place next to me. The sound of heels clicking against tile echoes throughout the room, and I glance upward.

Wanda walks towards me, a small smile on her face. I smile back, feeling slightly uneasy. I lick my lips out of nervousness.

"Hey (y/n). What are you making?" She asks, her accent strong.

"Just some cereal." I squeak out. "Want some?"

Wanda shakes her head and screws up her nose a little. "I'm more of an eggs person."

I nod, pouring the crunchy flakes into the empty bowl. After a second, only a plume of cereal dust comes out of the bag. I step back from the bench, placing my hands on my hips and then putting them back by my sides, suddenly self-conscious.

"You've gotta be kidding me." I mumble, huffing.

Wanda chuckles, grabbing a frying pan from the cupboard and turning on the stove behind me. "I can make you some eggs if you'd like." She says. I turn around to face her, leaning against the bench.

"Sur-"

"I'd love some eggs." Clint says, holding a finger on the air to silence Sam. Wanda raises a brow, grabbing a carton of eggs from the fridge.

"Do you like them fried or scrambled (y/n)?"

"Fried thanks."

Wanda nods, grabbing a wooden spoon and spatula. Clint waits for her expectantly, hanging for her to ask.

"Aren't you going to ask me how I like my eggs?" He questions.

"You eat whatever I give you Clint." She retorts, cracking the first egg into the pan. Clint scoffs as a satisfying sizzling sound fills the room, as well as the delicious scent of cooked breakfast. I hum in delight. I put away the spoon and milk I was going to use, instead grabbing some cups and a carton of orange juice.

Wanda turns to me briefly, watching me pour the drink. She does a double take.

"Do you want a chapstick?" She asks. I raise a brow.

"You're lips are just chapped. I have one in my pocket if you want it."

I bite my lip. "Uh, sure." I respond.

Wanda smiles, digging into her jumper pocket for the chapstick. She pulls it out and drops it on my hand, smiling and turning back to the food. I put some on, smelling the artificial smell of cherry. The room seems silent, and I turn around to where Clint and Sam were standing. Both of them are eyeing the two of us with curiosity, and Clint smirks.

"Sam, we should get out of here. We don't wanna kill the kids' vibes with our old man arguments." He says.

Sam looks confused for a moment, then he winks.

"Oh yeah, that's a good idea. Better leave them all alone. In this kitchen. With each other." He announces.

My eyes widen, and I lick my lips. The chemical cherry taste hits my tastebuds in a gross pang. Both boys walk out of the room, sniggering and throwing looks over their shoulders. I let out a quiet wimper of embarrassment. Wanda chuckles.

"Those two are such idiots. Whenever Nat and Steve are gone, they're practically glued together. Must be some old man hormones or something." She says, laughing some more.

I nod, laughing too. My palms feel clammy being this close to her, and I fight the urge to vomit. Her long, brown hair curls a little around her waist, slightly tangled. Even when it isn't brushed or styled, she looks beautiful. The sleeves of her black sweater come well past her wrists, almost past the tips of her thin fingers. From where I'm standing, I can smell the smell that is so entirely and beautifully Wanda, intoxicating me.

She grabs two plates from a cupboard, setting them next to the frying pan. With a flip of her spatula, she then checks to see if the eggs are cooked. With a sigh, she cranks up the heat and turns to me.

"Did you just eat the chapstick I gave you?" She asks.

"Uh, no." I mumble.

"Well there isn't any on your lips anymore." She says.

I lick my lips. I immediately stop, leaving them alone. "Sorry, licking my lips and biting them is just a nervous tick of mine." I say, scratching my neck. The second the words leave my lips, I regret them.

"What I mean to say is-"

"Do I make you nervous?" Wanda asks, smirking cockily. She looks at me teasingly.

"Well, yeah. I mean, no. I mean..." I say, my face turning bright red.

Wanda laughs, smiling sweetly at me. She studies my face, her eyes flickering down to my lips for a split second.

"W-why are you looking at my lips?" I ask quietly, nerves taking over.

Wanda looks away, tuning off the stove and putting the eggs on the plates.

"Maybe because I want to kiss them, even if they're chapped."

My mouth moves before I can control it.

"I'd like that."

Wanda smiles, putting the spatula on the counter. I take a step closer.

I cup her face in my hands, pushing my lips against hers softly. They move in sync, the faint taste of cherry chapstick meeting my tongue. We stay like that for quite some time, holding each other and just kissing, enjoying being in each other's embrace. After a while, we break apart for the final time and I rest my forehead against hers.

"I should borrow chapstick more often."