Chapter Text
Daisy smelled distinctly like a cigarrete, the slightest hint of coffee and some other weird smell that was specifically Daisy. Daisy was a very...unique character that not even you could describe after knowing her for almost your whole life. The manager had yelled at her countless times for coming back after her break smelling like smoke and yet she didn't bother to fix it. Their manager was some uptight girl named Mel who tolerated zero disrespect. The only reason she hadn't fired Daisy was because the two flirted constantly.
"You're gonna get fired," you hiss at her, dispensing some coffee into a plastic cup and adding milk. Daisy rolled her eyes, ignoring you as she tired her standardized apron around her waist. All she ever did was push her boundries, pressing further and further until she was forced to fall. Which is why she wore a skimpy crop top, thankfully covered by the apron, and again, thankfully, jeans. So she was semi-modest in a way.
It was slow today, which was good for Daisy because she was sure to get at least one customer complaint if the shop was any busier. The two of them worked in a small coffee shop with brick walls that were slightly ugly but somehow fit the vibe of the corner in the wall hideaway without being too offputting. They had that stereotypical hanging sign out front and a bell when you walked in which on slow days was nice, and on busy days was really annoying hearing the bell go off every two seconds.
Some soft and gentle music drafted through the building and mixed with the overwhelming smell of cherry blossom candles you had lit to make the place smell nice instead of coffee beans, which was a nice smell for some, not so nice for others, and cigarretes. Students from the nearby collage came in to study every now and then since it was a nice quiet spot to open a laptop and plug in headphones in a suprsingly comfortable chair.
It was a nice place to work, good pay, mostly good customers and an awesome bestfriend for a coworker.
The bell did a little jingle as you passed the cup of fresh coffee to this big bulky man who gave you a sweet smile and a tip before walking away with his coffee. At first, you don't even bother to look up at the new customer. Not until you heard the soft click clack of heels on the floor and the entire atmosphere seemed to grow thicker as Daisy kicked your shin with her foot.
Cursing you looked up, ready to smack her before your eyes caught onto a streak of red. It wasn't the same pale red like the bricks. Something, not exactly lighter, but definately different and something that stood out so much more. It matched her darker green eyes and bright red lips, again an entirely different shade of red. Everything about this woman screamed that she was important. All the way down to her black flared pants and vest that showed just the slighest bit of her breasts. Not that you were looking at them. Cause you weren't.
Her nails, dull for the most point with a little point on the top, tapped away on her phone, matching the sound of her heels on the floor. She looked up once she reached the counter, which contained you standing behind it with a slightly dropped jaw and wide, unblinking eyes. The corner of her lips curved into a small smile and she tucked her phone into her pocket, replacing it with a sleek black wallet.
You struggle to find your voice, voice suddenly dry and you can hear Daisy cackling quietly, "H-" you have to clear your throat once more, sounding like a frog calling for a mate, "What can I get you?"
"Black coffee." Her voice is smooth, clear and cuts through the music like a knife through butter. She sounds like a goddess. Fumbling around, you manage to somehow input her order and grab a cup to write her name on, "Natasha." The name slips from her lips before you can even ask.
With shaky hands you manage to get down her order, although its not easy and the lines come out crooked and looking like a toddler wrote it. Cheeks redder than her hair, you turn around to make her drink, ignoring Daisy's smirk. It was such a simple order yet you had never fumbled so much, pushing the wrong buttons or squeezing the cup a little bit too tight so that it made that awfull crunching sound that plastic does.
It takes you about three times longer to brew this black coffee than it should have, even though you were trying to get it done quickly. Natasha seemed important and important people didn't have a lot of time to waste. Her cup was a little full by the end and the sharpie you used to write her name blended in with the dark color of the drink. She was waiting against the wall by the counter, holding her phone as she was tilted sideways, shoulder resting against the brick wall.
You got stuck staring for a moment, blinking and hands tightening around the cup once more. She was gorgeous. From the side profile you could see the tiny little dots splattered across her face, freckles, that were visible in the sunlight. Light streamed in from the window next to her, still the summer rays as autumn started to drift in. The boots, ones with heels that announced her whenever she walked into a room were a sleek black to match the rest of her outfit.
The longer you stared, the more beauty you found and absolutely no flaws. There were zero flaws in this perfect woman.
What finally snapped you out of your staring wasn't Daisy recording you and suppressing laughs, but rather hot coffee spilling over the edges and onto your hands. You curse softly. You notice Natasha look up, an amused smirk curling at her lips, and your cheeks go bright red again. God, you were the biggest mess when you came to hot women. Wincing you place her cup down on the counter, shaking your hands off, droplets flying before grabbing a napkin. You wipe off the side of her cup with a pit growing even bigger in your stomach that was a mix of embarrassment and attraction.
“Sorry,” you mumble keeping your head ducked down. The older woman laughs softly, she was definitely older than you, and takes the cup.
“It’s alright,” her voice makes the ache in your stomach only grow more. You hated the way you couldn’t even gather a response before she’s walking away, leaving a small five dollar bill on the counter. A tip for probably the worst service she’d ever received.
Daisy doubles over laughing once the door bell jingles and the woman is gone, arms wrapped around her stomach and just absolutely losing it. She has to move one hand to rest on the counter as she lets out soft giggles. Daisy never laughed hard, voice always soft.
You scowl at her, eyebrows set low to show frustration and nose scrunched, “It’s not that funny.”
That only makes her laugh harder, a clear sign she thought the opposite. The pit in your stomach is still there, curling right and hardly losing its intensity, just sitting there insistently. You hated this feeling, it made you feel so useless, so small.
Rolling your eyes you walk past Daisy, smacking the back of her which doesn’t even elicit a response before heading towards the bathroom, face still bright red.
~~~~
The grip you had on your backpack was deadly, knuckles nearly white and fingers curled tight. The school was big, looming over you like you were back in your first day of middle school wearing those overly fancy clothes and already receiving judging stares. Except this time it was collage and you had downgraded in your wardrobe drastically. Nothing could ease your nerves for this day. You’d taken anxiety easing pills and tried to breath but none of it worked.
You and Daisy had both gotten into collage on a scholarship and the collage was very clear that if either of you messed up or your grades slipped you would be kicked out. And you couldn’t afford for that to happen. This was practically a golden ticket for the two of you. Neither of you had enough money to afford to go to collage so a full ride was your best bet. Thankfully you got it, but the pressure weighed heavy on your back and the expectations triggered certain reactions out of you.
The way you walked like you owned the place, despite your nervous demeanor, with rigid shoulders. Your brain was running a million miles an hour but all you could think about was the grades. The way people were watching you. Everyone was watching you, waiting for you to mess up and swoop in to humiliate you. “Everyone’s watching. Be perfect.” The words echoed in your head over and over as you made sure to walk in a straight line.
Daisy skipped ahead, a pep in her step as she admired the campus. Usually, you would join her in the whimsical act of skipping slightly, just little hops every now and then. But you didn’t even look around, didn’t take a wrong step just kept your eyes straight ahead, chin tilted up as you focused on making it to your first class: some sort of math class. Your brain was so jumbled you couldn’t even remember the proper name of it. All you bothered to keep in mind was the professors name and the location.
The glass doors to enter the main building were pushed by some girl heading out. She had brown hair, the shade when you add the tiniest dash of milk to coffee, and brown eyes. A boy walked next to her with slightly curly dirty blond hair and blue eyes. He was fumbling over his words but you couldn’t comprehend their conversation, too lost in your own head. You only managed to mumble a thank you as they held the door open before you walked past them.
Daisy was a few steps ahead of you, surprisingly going in the right direction so you stuck to following her. The two of you only had a few classes together so you wouldn’t be surprised if Daisy got lost later once she was alone. She was extremely smart, great with computers and completely self taught, but she also got lost in your head (in a different way than you did) and forgot to take care of herself or remember where she was.
The two of you reached the door to the math class, a wooden door with a small glass window and gold handle. You slipped in after Daisy, the door almost closing on you. The classroom was quiet, just a few students talking quietly and the teacher sat at the front. You migrated towards the back automatically and Daisy instinctively came to sit with you. The two of you were a pair, two peas in a pod that were practically inseparable if it could be helped. Very little could get the two of you apart.
It was only a few minutes after you sat that the teacher, his name was Sitwell, stood up. He had zero hair, except for a small bit of tiny strands on his chin, which made the top of his head whine under the lights. His eyes drifted around the classroom before landing on you. You couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine, shrinking into your seat to try and avoid his gaze.
“If I may have your attention,” his voice wasn’t exactly loud but it also wasn’t quiet as he spoke, “I am Mr. Sitwell. I’m sure I don’t have to explain to all of you how to act in a classroom so let us get started.” The entire time he spoke his eyes were on you, even though he was addressing the entire classroom.
The lecture started right away, not ice breakers or some way to make students feel welcome, just straight into a jumble of letters and numbers that made your brain swirl and eyes hurt as you tried to solve the problems.
You were called on three times. Each time asked to come up to the blackboard. Sitwell had his eyes on you the entire time and just stared at you like a wolf would stare at a deer. You hated it, you hated that look and everything about it. It made your stomach curl, but unlike the way you felt with Natasha yesterday, it was out of disgust. You swore you saw him staring at your ass and chest as he raked his eyes over you multiple times with each trip you made to the front. You felt like you were in middle school all over again.
Thankfully, you managed to solve every problem, even with the mush inside your brain. It was so hard to think straight, body stiff and goosebumps on every inch of your skin. Somehow you managed to run on autopilot and solved the problems without fumbling too much.
When the class was finally over you hid behind Daisy on the way out, avoiding Sitwell’s gaze. You were relieved he didn’t try to make stay. That would have been a whole different level of uncomfortable that you could not deal with today. What had already happened was enough.
Daisy kissed you on the cheek, the only person you allowed to do that, “I have a different class” was all she said before skipping away once more. You felt your heart drop into your stomach at being left alone. You hated it.
Regardless, you took a deep breath and continued forward, footsteps heavy as you navigated your way to your next class. You memorized your schedule last night in case your brain shut down and you were so grateful you had because you were barely aware of what was happening. You probably would’ve lost your head if it wasn’t attached to your own shoulders. Somehow you had remembered your backpack from Sitwell’s class.
Your next class was Slavic languages, run by Mrs. Maximoff. You’d heard rumors that she was the worst teacher to have. One of the strictest and most unforgiving of all the teachers on campus. She also taught history, but thankfully you didn’t have a class with her besides this one. Out of all the extra classes you couldn’t picked, of course you picked this one. The one with two other students. The one with the supposed meanest teacher. You were scared shitless. Hopefully it didn’t show as you walked into her classroom, the other two students already there.
“Have a seat in the front.” Mrs. Maximoff didn’t even look up from where she was texting to tell you that. Her voice sent shivers down your spine. She didn’t even speak loud or particularly commanding. It was said in a perfectly normal tone and your ass was sat down in that seat in an instant. Similarly to the day before, your cheeks heated up slightly.
There were candles on her desk that flickered and smelled like cinnamon. You observed her from your seat, unable to tear your eyes away. And once again your stomach turned to jello, very thick jello, so more like pudding. You couldn’t breathe and every single cell in your body turned to mush.
She was gorgeous.
That same feeling you had with Natasha you had now.
Mrs. Maximoff had dark red hair it was almost brown that was pulled back into a tight ponytail that sat near the top of her head. She wore a low cut white shirt, a gold chain with a silver lighting bolt dangled just atop her breasts. Her gaze flickered up towards you, green eyes staring straight into yours. You felt your entire body just melt into a puddle of gay panic.
Well fuck you, this class was going to be tough.