Charlotte Sugar (Cracker X Reader)

Poof!

You giggled in delight as flour flew up into the air, covering the counters and your small hands all at the same time. As you continued to smack the counter tops, you mother flitted about the kitchen, gathering the many ingredients for baking. The entire time she watched you, filling the air with the sound of her soothing laughter.

"That's for baking dearie, I wouldn't suggest playing in it so much." She wiped away at your face with her apron, the same one she'd gotten from her mother.

"What're we bakin'?" You asked, excited to make something with her.

"Your favorite." She hummed, pulling down a couple large bowls from the cabinets.

You frowned. "You don't make it the same as Nana did!"

She laughed again. "That's the point."

"I like how Nana makes it!"

"She's not around to make it anymore dear."

You vaguely remember the funeral held for your grandmother. It had come and gone a little over a year ago, definitely a stretch for your seven year old mind to think about.

"Why can't we make it like she did?" You asked, puzzled.

Your mother pulled you down from the step stool you stood on and crouched down in front of you, reaching eye level. She smiled at you. It was the bright one you adored. The fine lines of aging wrinkled up in a delightful way, her eyes shone in a way that let you know you were her world, lips pulled over almost perfect teeth. She always had a hint of a stain on them from too much coffee but that was part of her charm.

"Remember Nana telling you how this recipe is special?"

You nodded.

"Are you ready to learn what makes it special? I can teach you today."

You gasped with renewed excitement. "Yes!"

"I thought you'd like that idea." She ruffled your hair, leaving the lingering scent of cinnamon and apples to hang heavy in the air around you.

She always smelled like a warm apple pie.

----

You woke from the dream, or memory technically, and you could swear you could still smell the cinnamon surrounding you. An alarm blared away beside you and you reached over to shut it up, smacking the clock until you managed to hit the right button.

"Moooommmmm." You groaned as you stretched in bed. "I hope you aren't looking down and calling me a sell out."

You felt like a kid on their first day of school. You were both excited and very nervous and in all honesty, the analogy wasn't very far off. It was your first day going to work at your dream job, the one you'd spent years busting your ass in college to get the required degree to even be considered for the job. The interview process was grueling but everything had paid off. You'd been accepted and though it was an entry level position, you were sure you'd be able to work your way up the ranks and make a real career out of it.

After stumbling out of bed and throwing on some clothes, you ate a quick breakfast and headed out. The first challenge with the job was it was a bit of a drive, an hour one way to be exact, so you had to leave early to make it on time. You didn't mind the drive but your car was old, went through a lot of gas, and had a habit of making a lot of questionable noises that occasionally turned into problems. It stressed you out on a regular basis but you didn't have another way to get to work. Besides, you were sure if you could keep it running long enough, you'd be able to save up for repairs.