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dude-why-3 · 1 year

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Nothing Sweeter Than You

ao3

Summary:

November 1952

Once upon a not so kind landscape, on two opposite sides of a tiny village, two souls fell in love. A love against all odds, a love that could only bring them pain, forbidden by many factors; yet they made it work. On stolen nights, in the dark, hidden from the common eye, they made it work, a love silently sealed between two pairs of lips, with the moon and the stars as their only witnesses.

"It smells heavenly in here," says Mister Leonhart as he walks into their summer kitchen. He leans his cane against a wall, putting his hat on the table.

Annie closes the wooden oven door and takes her gloves off. She has her hair pinned up, a kitchen apron tied over her dress.

"Thank you, I'm baking an apple pie," she says, smiling sheepishly at her father as she wipes her hands on an old towel.

The man raises an eyebrow, "An apple pie? What's the occasion?"

Annie nervously paces around, checking her nails. "Oh, you know," she begins, but doesn’t dare continue.

Her father looks at her in dismay, anticipating what she's about to say, his lips curving downwards. "What is it?"

Annie plays with the skin around her thumb, her eyes cast on it. Her shoulders fall and she closes her eyes briefly, letting a sigh out. "It's Armin’s birthday," she says quietly.

Mister Leonhart sighs loudly, and his daughter presses her lips together tightly. "The village teacher?"

"Yes."

"And you're baking him a pie because…?"

Blood splashes from Annie’s thumb. She’s quick to hide her hands behind her back. She swallows hard, mustering her courage to say, barely above a whisper, "Because I care about him."

Her father slams his hand on the table, causing Annie to flinch visibly. "You know what I think about this," he says sharply.

She shuts her eyes. "Yes, father."

"And yet here we are again, discussing this matter for the ten-thousandth time!"

Annie stays quiet, her eyes cast to her leather shoes, as her father stares at her intently. She squeezes her thumb in her other hand, pain shooting through her body.

"I only want the best for you, Annie," he says in a normal tone. "And this is not it."

Annie remains quiet, not daring to look up at her father. He sighs loudly again, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "He's just a commoner, someone from the working class, Annie." Her father raises to his feet. "He's no match for you."

"And yet you married my mother," Annie says quietly.

"Do not bring your mother into this!" he warns, furrowing his brows.

Annie raises her gaze and looks him in the eye. "I just don't understand why it was acceptable back then and not now."

"Those were different times. Associating yourself with that traitor's spawn would only put this family in danger." Her father takes his cane back, letting yet another sigh out. Annie's jaw clenches. "I have done everything in my power to keep you safe and I will not let that boy destroy all my efforts," the man adds.

And with that, he's gone.

Annie hurries to wipe the blood off her hands and take the pie out, almost forgetting to put the kitchen gloves back on.

She calls his name over the fence once more, waiting for him to welcome her in. No movement is to be seen from the house in the far end of his garden.

Annie has changed into one of her good dresses, embroidered with blue flowers at the bottom, around the collar, and at the end of the sleeves, a richly embroidered belt around her waist, and rebraided her hair, using a blue ribbon to tie it into a little bun. She wrapped the pie in a clean cloth and made her way to his house, walking over the bridge separating her side of the village from his and past the old lilac tree at the crossroads, not minding the curious looks from everyone. The sun was starting to set when she finally made it to his house.

Annie takes a breath in and starts calling his name once more, only this time louder.

"I'm here," a voice says by her side.

A shiver goes up her spine as she turns hurriedly and is met by none other than Armin Arlert, wearing his good shirt, a few books under his arm. He has his hair carefully combed and tied behind his neck in a short ponytail, a few stray strands having escaped. She furrows momentarily at the sight of the black circles under his eyes, which have grown bigger than last time she's seen him.

"Armin," she says, catching her breath. She smiles sweetly at him. "Hello."

"Hi," he gives her a short, tired smile. "What winds have brought you here?" he asks as he opens the gate and lets her in.

"I baked you a pie," Annie beams, taking a few steps into his garden and stopping to wait for him.

Armin closes and locks the gate before joining her, and they start walking towards his house at the far end of the garden, past his peachtree and his rows of vegetables and vine, past the chickens' coop and the old water fountain. They walk up the few steps to his wooden door and Armin holds it open for her. The house gets dark as soon as he closes it again.

They both take their shoes off and Armin makes sure to line them by the door, while Annie goes into the kitchen and carefully lights a candle.

The young teacher drops his books on the desk by his bed before joining her into the kitchen. He wraps his arms around her waist and rests his chin on her shoulder as she carefully unwraps the pie, a low chuckle leaving her lips at the sudden embrace. He watches her skillful hands work the knot, carefully remove the cloth altogether, and lay the pie on the table.

"It looks delicious," Armin whispers, as if not to disturb its peace.

"I hope it tastes so, too," Annie says, turning around in his embrace and wrapping her own arms around his neck. "Happy birthday, dear," she says, kissing his cheek.

Armin smiles at her again, his hold on her tightens, he pulls her closer to him, her giggle warming his chest. "Thank you."

Annie cups his face in her hands and kisses his other cheek, and then his forehead, and the tip of his nose, and –

His stomach grumbles.

They stare at each other for a while, the way his face turned red visible even in the dim light of the candle. He buries his forehead in the crook of her neck, embarrassed.

"Have you eaten anything today?" Annie asks softly, drawing circles on his shoulder blade.

"Yes," comes his muffled voice.

"When?"

His stomach grumbles again as he sinks further into her embrace.

"This morning."

"Armin," she scolds, "a whole day passed by since then."

He doesn’t say anything but she can feel his eyelashes flutter against her skin as he closes his eyes.

"Let's try the pie," Annie urges, breaking from his hug.

Armin searches the cabinets for plates and forks, eventually finding two of each that look a little better than the others. "The forks might be a bit rusty," he says, rubbing the back of his neck, "but I promise they’re clean. I've washed them all."

"I know they are," Annie acknowledges as she cuts two pieces and places them on the porcelain plates.

Armin pulls up a chair for her, one of the good ones his grandfather made so many years ago, and they both sit around the table. Annie waits for him to take the first bite, watching him patiently as he does so, her eyes following his every move. His face lights up once he's tasted it, and Annie relaxes in her seat, a smile spreading on her lips.

"This is so good, Annie!" he beams, taking another bite, doing a little happy dance in his chair. "I love it so much, thank you!" he says through a mouthful of pie.

Annie fights back a snicker, her heart warming up seeing her dear enjoy the pie she's baked for him and him alone. She starts eating her own slice when he cuts a second one.

"Isn’t it too sweet?" she worries out loud.

Armin takes a moment to consider. "Not sweeter than you, no," he shakes his head, a smug smile finding its way to his lips.

Annie blushes in the dim light, casting her eyes downwards to hide it, her hair curtaining her face. She plays with the pie for a bit, cutting it in small pieces and toying them around the plate. Armin brushes the few stray strands behind her ear, his touch lingering on her skin for a moment.

He retrieves his hand, smiling sweetly, Annie’s cheeks now burning.

"You're adorable," he says.

Armin tells her about his day, his eyes lightening up while he goes on and on about his students and how much they've been improving during the past few weeks, how proud he is of them. Annie listens patiently, her smile softening as her beloved speaks. As hard as his job might be, as little money he might get off of it, she can hear it in his voice that he loves what he's doing, he's determined to give these children the education they deserve. He cuts yet another piece of pie and insists for Annie to take seconds herself. He cups her hands when he asks about her day and she takes a deep breath in, he can almost hear the bad news rolling out of her tongue.

But then Annie shakes her head, forcing a little smile on; she says her day's been alright, nothing out of the ordinary, she just baked a pie and came down to his house. Armin watches her intently for a little while, he knows something is wrong, he can read it on her face, but he doesn’t press the matter. Instead, the squeezes her hand, letting her know he's there if she needs anything, anything at all, and she thanks him, kisses his cheek, reassures him that everything's fine, she's fine.

Armin kisses the top of her head as he stands up, his hand lingering on her shoulder for a passing moment.

"Would you like some water?" he asks, taking two glasses from one of the cabinets. Annie spins around in her chair to face him. "Or would you prefer wine instead?"

"Water's fine, thank you."

"I made the wine myself," Armin says as he hands her a glass of water. "I don't remember if you ever tasted it?"

He takes a gulp of water himself as Annie sips on hers. Armin opens one of the tall cabinets and retrieves a bottle of what looks like wine, shimmering in the dim light.

"I'd love to have a taste," she says, raising to her feet. Armin takes her now empty glass and pours the dark liquid in it carefully before filling his own. Their glasses touch mid-air, Annie smiles up at him, his eyes on her full of love.

"To you," she says.

"To us," he adds.

They take a sip, their gazes staying on each other.

"I like it," Annie says, bringing the glass to her lips again. "It's rather sweet."

"Yeah," Armin smiles, putting his glass on the counter. He takes Annie by the waist, bringing her closer to him, places her glass on the counter before properly wrapping his arms around her body. "But not as sweet as you," he mutters, his lips centimeters from hers. "Nothing is as sweet as you."

He can feel her face warm up, see her blush in the dying light of the candle. His eyes travel down to her lips, then up again to her eyes, unasked questions hovering in them. She nods quietly, no word needed, and his lips find hers. He kisses her short and sweet, breaking away as she draws closer.

"Thank you for the pie," he mutters, kissing her again. "I love you."

Annie smiles at him, a sweet smile he wished to engrave in his heart. "I love you too," she whispers, closing the gap between them.

Her lips dance with his, soft against each other, her hands on his chest playing with his shirt buttons, his tongue on her lower lip, her lips part to welcome it in, a low moan leaving her, sending shivers down Armin’s spine. He breaks from the kiss, Annie's eyes hazy and confused on him, and leaves a sloppy peck on her cheek. Armin spins her around swiftly, she chuckles in his arms, and then he properly picks her up, kissing her forehead. The candle dies out.

Annie rests her head on his chest as he carries her to his bed, gently putting her down on the duvet. He bends down and kisses her again, his palms cupping her face, before joining her on the bed, taking her in his arms as their lips find each other again, her hands all over his chest, his fingers in her hair, the blue ribbon now lying by the bed's foot as her hair falls loose. His palms travel down her back, finding their way to her belt. It soon joins the ribbon, followed closely by his shirt.

He leaves sweet kisses down her neck, sneaks his hand beneath the thin fabric of her dress, her breath catches in her throat at his touch, so warm against her cold skin.

He asks if she’s cold while lying her down, and she shakes her head, kisses the corner of his lips; he chuckles lightly, the sound intoxicating.

He leaves trails on her skin, his touch all over her body, her squeals and moans growing louder, his name on her lips a sweet spell. He captures her lips in his, over and over, silent vows of I'm yours, only yours and sweet nothings passing between them. Their clothes discarded on the floor, their bodies one, they make love in the dim light of the moon, the stars and his books as their only witnesses, their love sealed silently.

As the sun peeks in through the curtains he so thoughtfully drew over the window, a rooster singing his only melody outside, Annie carefully braids her hair, sitting on the edge of her beloved's bed. She ties it with the ribbon before putting her shoes on, her dress loose around her body. Flattening her hair in the dusty mirror, she leaves the room.

The warmth of the kitchen hits her in the face as soon as she steps in.

Armin welcomes her from the stove, having just flipped a pita. Annie walks over to him and hugs him warmly, he smiles in her hair, kissing her forehead.

"Good morning, my dear," he says, gently kissing her cheek. He moves the pita on a plate, already full of four others, and puts another circular dought on the stove.

Annie asks if he could help tie her belt around her waist, and he walks behind her and does just that, his fingers steady, his breath tickling Annie’s nape.

"How did you sleep?" Armin inquiries, going back to the stove and flipping the last pita.

"Peacefully, thanks for asking," Annie smiles, sitting at the table.

Armin turns the stove off and brings the pitas to the table. "I only have these and some cheese," he sheepishly explains, placing a bowl with already cut cheese next to the bread. "I know it’s not much–"

"It's alright," Annie quickly says. "I'm sure it’s delicious."

He smiles weakly, goes to pour two glasses of water and brings them to the table. They eat in silence, Annie complimenting his cooking every now and then, his cheeks picking up color.

She boops his nose playfully, laughs shortly at his lovestruck expression. "That's payback for last night," she says, pecking his cheek.

Armin turns down her help with washing the dishes, insisting on doing it himself, and takes the plates to the fountain outside.

Annie follows him in the garden, tastes the few remaining grapes on the vine, and checks the chickens for eggs, disappointed when she finds nothing.

Armin finishes the washing up and wipes his hands on a clean cloth, watches her fondly. She turns to him and smiles, straightening her back.

"I should go," Annie says, dusting her skirt.

Armin narrows his eyes, walks the distance between them and takes her in his arms once again. She wraps her arms around his neck, smiling shortly, resting her forehead against his. "Do you really have to?"

"Yeah." Annie closes her eyes, melting into his touch.

"I was hoping you'd stay longer," he confesses, pushing some stray hair out of her face.

"I really can't," she whispers, her voice almost breaking.

Armin's eyebrows furrow, worry filling his eyes. He lifts her chin, searching her face for anything that could give away her reasoning. She opens her eyes slowly, swallowing to stop the tears from coming.

"What is it, darling?" Armin asks, now alarmed.

Her heart hurts at the sound of his voice. "It's just my father," she says looking down at her leather shoes, the ones Armin got for her for her birthday that year. She tells him not to worry about it, that it will pass, but Armin’s furrow only deepens.

"He's still against this?"

"Pretty much," Annie sighs.

Armin presses his lips together, his eyes darkening. He takes her hands into his, caressing them gently, and for a while they just stand there, hand in hand. His eyes come to a stop on the scarred skin around her finger, saddening, the realization of what they’re doing sinking in so slowly it hurts.

"We don't have to do this," Armin eventually says.

Annie’s head snaps up to him and her eyes widen. "What?"

He squeezes her hands, looking like he’d rather die than word that thought, a thought that’s crossed his mind many times before, except he’s never considered it as much as right now. "We don't have to go behind your father's back," he says, not meeting her eyes. "I know how much this hurts you and I hate seeing you like this."

"What?" Annie mutters again, not wanting to believe what she's hearing.

Armin raises his eyes to meet hers, pained, watery, "We can break this off," he says quietly.

Her eyes widen, panic raises in her voice. "What? No!"

Armin looks away, fixating his gaze on the peachtree. "I don't want you fighting with your father because of me," he says. "So, I thought –"

"No," she repeats, stepping closer. "No. No no no no." She steps in front of him, daring him to look at her; he doesn’t. "You can't do this, you can't just say this and–" her voice breaks. She turns around, covering her face with her hands and pressing her palms against her eyes.

"Annie…" Armin touches her shoulder; she doesn’t move, except she trembles slightly, sobbing almost inaudibly.

"You can't do this to me," she whispers.

"I won’t," he says, feeling his heart shatter. "I love you too much to do this." His hand falls. "I just hate seeing you this hurt."

Annie wipes her eyes hurriedly and faces him. "It will get better," she says, not convincing enough. "He'll come around to it."

"I hope so," Armin mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knows it’s most likely just wishful thinking, he’ll never be anything more than a commoner to the wealthy mayor that is her father, the spawn of a traitor, too dangerous to be around; but he allows himself the luxury of hoping things would indeed change.

"He will," Annie reassures. Armin cups her cheek in his palm, intertwining her fingers with his. "And we'll be together freely," she says.

Armin scoffs lightly, resting his forehead on hers. "That would be pretty," he smiles.

"Right?" Annie kisses him shortly, and he kisses her back, connecting their lips again when she breaks away, holding the nape of her neck gently, keeping her close. She laughs against his lips, her fingers caressing his cheek before she breaks away.

"Come on," she says, taking his hand in hers. "Walk me to the bridge."

Armin watches her for a moment, taking her in, before nodding shortly, his lips twitching up the slightest bit.

They walk in silence, hand in hand, not minding the curious looks from the few waking pedestrians. His grip on her hand tightens when they pass the lilac tree, no flower on its branches.

The two soon reach the bridge, the mayor's sophisticated white house and its yard visible up the hill. Annie turns to her beloved with a sad smile, her hand now leaving his. He takes her in his arms, a short, warm, goodbye, and they promise to meet again before they part ways.

Armin watches her cross the bridge separating his side of the village from hers and slowly make her way up the hill, to a house he could never dream of stepping foot into again, where everything he could never be able to offer awaits her arrival.

He raises his eyes to the sky, a solitair tear rolling down his cheek, and he wonders what he did to deserve her.

|part 2|

#finally posting this here #it’s been like 8 months but better later than never am i right #aruani #annie leonhart #armin arlert #fanfic #aruannie #slight nfsw #the forbidden lovers series

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sohemotional · 2 years

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Grumpy Cat - Brittana Fanfiction

Summary: Brittany is a waitress at an old-fashioned diner and Santana is the grouchiest guest they’ve ever had. Even though everyone warns her away from the bad-tempered woman, the blonde is determined to make Santana smile, if it’s the last thing she does.

Single Mom!Santana/Diner AU

Pairing: Santana Lopez/Brittany Pierce

Genre: Alternative Universe, Fluff/Humor, Hurt/Comfort

Rating: T - M in later chapters

Read on AO3

Part I

Brittany looked up and smiled to herself seeing a familiar customer who had been to the diner several times that week. A gorgeous, Hispanic looking woman with long raven hair, high cheekbones and glowing, dark skin walked in. Brittany could never forget such a striking face. The woman was holding the hand of an adorable little boy who looked like he couldn’t be more than three years old.

Both woman and boy were dressed almost identically in what appeared to be expensive, designer clothes that made them look like celebrities, which seemed out of place in the modest little 50s style diner where Brittany worked and made them stand out. They wore all black jackets, jeans, and sneakers, a backwards cap on the boy’s head to complete the stylish look. The woman hid her eyes behind dark aviator sunglasses and strutted in confidently like she owned the place.

“You wanna take this one, Britt?” Tina smirked knowingly, nudging the blonde in the direction of the customer when she noticed her staring at them…again. Tina had been one of Brittany’s closest friends since high school and the sassy girl could always instantly tell when her much taller, very blonde friend was smitten with someone new, which happened a lot.

In this case, Brittany also suspected Tina had an ulterior motive. The dark-haired woman who had just come in was notorious around the small town of Lima for being prickly and throwing out insulting comments wherever she went, so the rest of the diner’s staff, Tina included, always dreaded it when she was around.

Brittany didn’t mind serving the woman, even if she had a bad reputation with everyone else. She was willing to give anyone the benefit of the doubt.

“Last time she was here, she snarled at me because her eggs were cold and she told me my makeup made me look like I was an extra in some Japanese horror movie. Good luck.” Tina whispered under her breath, glancing sheepishly in the direction of the customer.

Brittany just laughed breezily, shaking her head.

“She probably just had a bad day, Tina. I’m sure she’s not that bad.”

Tina narrowed her eyes at Brittany, skeptical, but the blonde woman waved her off.

“If you say so, Britt,” She finally chuckled, accustomed to Brittany’s quirky and fearless ways. “Go get her, Tigress.”

With that, Brittany skipped along giddily, in a cheerful mood at the thought of finally talking to the gorgeous mystery woman.

The woman became startled when she noticed her, having just slipped her sunglasses off and Brittany’s heart almost skipped a beat when she saw firsthand how stunning the woman’s impossibly dark eyes were up close. Her son - at least Brittany was assuming he was her son - blinked up at Brittany in wonder as well. It was as if the woman was seeing Brittany for the first time even though she had been to the diner several times before.

“Hi! Can I get you two anything to drink?” The blonde chirped, smiling brightly at the two of them as she passed her a menu.

“Just a coffee. Black,” The woman drawled in a raspy voice, her pretty face twisting into a scowl. She sounded irritable and bored as she stared down at the menu without even looking up at Brittany again as she spoke. “And a chocolate milk for him.”

“Sure thing! Coming right up!” Brittany quipped, not letting the woman’s bad mood deter her and humming a pop song under her breath as she slipped away. Brittany quickly returned with their drinks a moment or two later and then took their breakfast order, unfazed by the cold demeanor the customer continued to display.

She turned around, surprised when the boy made a grab for her sleeve, holding onto it tightly with his little hand as she was walking away again to put in their order. She noticed that he looked exactly like the woman, almost her perfect mirror image. They both had the same coal dark, soft eyes that Brittany could easily get lost in, scrunchy little nose, and pouty lips.

“Hey, don’t do that,” The woman scolded him quietly but firmly, quickly pulling the toddler back and sounding embarrassed by his behavior.

“I’m sorry about that.” She told Brittany awkwardly in her same serious, gruff voice, her lips pulled tightly into a frown. She gave off the impression that she wasn’t in the mood for small talk.

“It’s totally okay!” Brittany giggled, smiling down at the little boy who just continued to stare at her open-mouthed as if mesmerized by every little thing the blonde did. “I think he just likes my hair.”

The customer said nothing in response, though she looked at Brittany again properly this time, scanning her frame and seemingly taking note of the old-fashioned diner waitress uniform the blonde was wearing. She raised an arched eyebrow judgmentally as if thinking “You can’t be serious…”

Brittany just shrugged it off, not really bothered by what the woman thought about her but she continued to smile and make light jokes with the two whenever she came over to their table. The dark-haired woman remained serious and grouchy no matter what.

However, Brittany noticed that she was constantly glancing at her when she thought the blonde wasn’t looking and seemingly taken aback by her friendliness as if she wasn’t expecting it from her.

Brittany was determined to get Ms. Grumpy to smile at least once that morning.

Meanwhile, the toddler wouldn’t stop staring at Brittany and catching her eye every time she turned around, happy and smiling in contrast to how distant the woman was.

“Is he your little brother?” Brittany asked, realizing for the first time just how young the customer looked despite the mature way carried herself. She was probably not much older than Brittany herself was. The blonde had just turned nineteen that winter.

“He’s my son.” The woman snapped quickly, as if she was accustomed to people asking that and tired of having to explain herself.

“Oh my bad! You’re very young looking, that’s all, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Brittany returned. Incredibly pretty too she thought but didn’t voice that part out loud.

She was probably getting a little too personal with a customer but something told her she should take a chance on getting to know Grumpy Cat. That was actually the perfect name for her, she thought, barely suppressing a laugh.

Although she hadn’t got very good grades at school, if there was one thing Brittany was good at it was reading people and she had a feeling that even if the woman seemed standoffish on the surface, she was just scared. Scared of what exactly, Brittany didn’t know.

“So are you,” The woman grunted in response, her expression darkening as she quickly became defensive. She looked more nervous than angry, stiffening when she heard Brittany’s chuckles. “What’s funny? Why are you laughing?!” She demanded.

“It’s just that your expression just now reminded me so much of my cat, Lord Tubbington, when I told him he needs to get back on his diet.”

The irritable woman just stared at her cluelessly, her mouth opening and closing a few times. She seemed like she wasn’t sure whether she should feel insulted or not. Her expression wavered comically between bewildered and agitated. “Lord Tubbington?”

“I’m Brittany, by the way. It’s nice chatting with you!” She winked and walked away to serve another customer before her boss, Holly, who was the owner of the restaurant, killed her for spending way too much time talking to a random customer.

So she didn’t get to win Grumpy Cat’s smile that day…but hopefully the woman would return soon.

“Back again? It’s great to see you!”

Brittany grinned widely a few days later, pretending to be surprised when Grumpy Cat and her son appeared again, as she had strongly suspected they would. It was one of their busiest mornings in a while and Britt was thankful that she got to the dark-haired woman before one of the other waitresses could.

“Hmph.” She merely grunted as Brittany guided her to her usual table. Her previously timid son on the other hand immediately shrieked with delight and his face lit up when he saw the blonde woman, recognizing her from last time. He seemed to have found his voice, no longer shy to talk around Brittany.

“Mommy!” He screeched, pulling away from his mother’s arms with all his strength in an attempt to get to Brittany. “Mommy, mommy, mommy!”

Brittany laughed, not sure how to respond to the toddler repeatedly calling her, although it was adorable. Did the little kid somehow think Brittany was his mom?

The customer’s face flushed and she looked mortified. “Kenai, I’m right here. Mami’s here.”

So that’s his name…cute. Brittany thought.

“No! My mommy!”

Kenai ignored his mother’s attempts to get him to settle while bouncing up and down in his seat, focusing all his attention on Brittany instead. By now, people at the surrounding tables were starting to look around and the woman was visibly shrinking into her seat, cringing at the scene they were making and grimacing. Some of the other guests cast judgmental looks on the woman, as if she was trying to kidnap someone's child.

“It’s totally fine. Happens to me all the time wherever I go,” Brittany joked when Kenai continued to yell “Mommy” a few times at the top of his lungs at her even after Grumpy Cat tried her best to get him to calm down.

“I’m very sorry. He has never reacted like this to anyone before and he usually behaves much better than this in public. Kenai- calm dow-”

Before the woman could stop him, the energetic toddler had all but crawled across the table and attached himself onto Brittany with soft, pudgy little hands.

“Kenai!”

Brittany scooped the toddler into her arms and he immediately quietened, happily gazing up at her with the same adoring expression he always had around her. This really wasn’t how she expected her day to start but Kenai was so sweet and she didn’t mind holding him. She felt a strange sense of connection with the little boy even though she barely knew him.

His mother just stared in shock, looking as if she wanted to evaporate on the spot. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over him.”

“It’s totally okay!” Brittany assured her, adjusting Kenai in her arms. He gave her a big gummy smile when their eyes met so she couldn’t resist smiling back at him. She had been around a lot of babies but Kenai had to be one of the cutest she had ever seen. “He’s adorable.”

Despite not having any of her own yet, she loved children and people had often commented that Brittany herself had a childlike innocence at times. She had plenty of experience with babies because she had practically raised her little sister Stacy, along with her young cousins and had been a babysitter for so many people in their small town.

Grumpy Cat, however, still looked very uncomfortable and quickly stood up, glancing around at the other patrons at the diner nervously as she came over to take the toddler back from her.

“Kenai, I told you no!” The woman’s voice rose sharply as Brittany’s face fell and she handed him back to his mother, somewhat reluctantly. The dark-haired woman sighed, clearly exasperated when her son began to shriek and then cry when he was taken away from Brittany. “I think we better leave.”

“You’re welcome to stay if you’d like!” Brittany hastened to tell her but it was too late. The woman was already gathering her things quickly, throwing some cash down on the table, then walking away with the crying toddler as if she couldn’t get away from the diner fast enough.

Brittany frowned sadly, hoping that the woman hadn’t been scared away for good.

Luckily, it wasn’t the end of her meetings with Grumpy Cat.

Mystery Woman kept coming back, always promptly at the same time on the same days. She’d come by for breakfast every Monday and Friday like clockwork.

Each time, Brittany would always immediately rush in to assist the two of them before Tina or anyone else could step in. The woman was always either alone or with her son, looking rather lonely, which made the blonde sad because she wondered whether she had made any other friends in the town.

Brittany found herself looking forward to these days the most, slightly giddy at the thought of seeing the mother and son duo again. They always looked so cute in their matching clothes and even though the surly woman never said much, they were so much more interesting than the other customers Brittany usually interacted with from Lima.

Tina rolled her eyes at Brittany playfully as the blonde spent an extra ten minutes fixing her hair and makeup in the mirror that Friday, trying to look pretty.

“I know you really like her, Britt but I hope you know what you’re doing,” The shorter Asian woman sighed. “I’ve heard some things. They don’t call her “La Diabla” around town for no reason.”

“Diabla?” Britt frowned, confused and wary of where her friend was going with this conversation. She liked Tina but she knew her to be the town’s biggest gossip who loved sharing juicy drama. “I don’t speak French, Tina, you know that.”

“Diabla as in devil . She works for my boyfriend’s dad’s law firm and I heard she literally called the judge fat one time,” Tina explained. “She makes grown men cry for a living and no one wants to work with her.”

“Devil… hmm. Maybe like a sexy devil? I don’t know, Tina. She doesn’t scare me.”

“Nothing ever scares you, Wild Woman,” Tina laughed. “That’s just like you. All I’m saying is, just don’t get your hopes up with that one. Everyone says she’s bad news.”

“I mean, she never did anything mean to me personally so I’m willing to give her a chance,” Brittany shrugged. “You never know. Plus her son is the cutest kid I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Tina just gave her a disbelieving look but didn’t push any further into the topic. With the conversation over, the two women went to work cleaning tables and setting out glasses as they prepared for a busy morning at the diner.

The dark-haired woman always seemed to be in a perpetual bad mood, which made Brittany’s nickname for her so appropriate. She’d roll her eyes with attitude and pop her neck frequently, squaring her shoulders as she glared around at the other guests at the diner whenever they so much as looked in her direction. They’d instantly become pale-faced with fear and back down, some of them even leaving the diner if they knew she was around.

Brittany wasn’t intimidated.

“Hi!” She greeted her sweetly, smiling as their eyes met and the woman looked away, crossing her toned arms. She was acting all tough as usual, though Brittany did notice the way she shivered slightly and almost lost her composure when Brittany was staring directly into her eyes. The woman clenched her jaw, biting her lip. Her son wasn’t with her today. “Can I get you anything?”

“Just coffee. Black, please.” She huffed and pulled out her phone, as if anxious for the waitress to go away.

“I’ve never really liked coffee, although Lord Tubbington is a huge fan of it,” Brittany remarked absently. “He always scoffs at me for adding twelve teaspoons of sugar every time I make coffee. So it’s more like sugar with some coffee instead of coffee with sugar. Of course, I just tell him he’s no one to judge considering his addiction to fast food and ecstasy.”

The dark-haired woman did a double take, silent for a long moment and blinking as if perplexed by this mental image. Then she narrowed her eyes, back to being surly as ever. “Is there some reason why you’re telling me this?”

Brittany shrugged. “Is there something else you wanted to talk about?” She asked, without missing a beat.

“Nope,” She muttered, eyeing her disdainfully. “Look Sweetheart , no offence but I don’t do small talk and I’m not looking for friends.”

“Okay, suit yourself.” Brittany gave her a measured half smile and walked off, trying to ignore how Grumpy Cat calling her “Sweetheart” made her heart flutter just a little, even if she had said it sarcastically. She paused to wink at the dark-haired woman over her shoulder as she walked away, leaving her with a stunned expression. The woman continued to glare at Brittany for a while as if appalled by her antics, which the blonde found so amusing. Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed she thought.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything else I can do for you?” Brittany lowered her voice to a husky, seductive purr, coming up behind her and putting her hands on the back of her chair as she leaned in close. Grumpy Cat seemed to nearly jump out of her skin and almost dropped her coffee, cursing under her breath. Brittany resisted the urge to giggle. It was too fun to tease the customer and even though she glared at her, there was something gentle in her eyes instead of genuine anger.

“N-no!” She hissed, setting the mug aside and facing Brittany with an accusatory look. “Is there something you want?”

“I should ask you the same thing,” Brittany quipped, tilting her head playfully as she smiled at her. “You’ve been staring at me the whole time you’ve been here.”

“I have not…that’s ridiculous. I don’t stare at you.”

“ Okay… ” Brittany drew out the word sarcastically, fixing her with a disbelieving look, “ Ms. Grumpy who absolutely does stare at me. You know you don’t have to pretend to be all angry all the time. I won’t tell anyone your secret.”

“I don’t… W-what? My secret?”

“That you’re not as mean as everyone thinks you are.” Brittany smirked, winking at her one more time before she walked away. The woman sat there, speechless as if in a daze for several long minutes before swaggering out of the diner with a huff.

One day, Brittany waited and waited for her favorite customer, growing slightly worried and a little frustrated when she wasn’t seeing the woman as the hours passed. By the time it was half past ten, Brittany had served breakfast to several large families and groups including Tina’s boyfriend Mike and his friends, and even their regular customer Finn Hudson who had seemingly ordered everything off of their menu and then asked for dessert shamelessly.

Grumpy Cat finally turned up ten minutes later, looking even more tired than normal and like she had just rolled out of bed, which was very unlike her. Her normally perfect hair was sticking up and she was clutching her son tightly in her arms. She shushed the child as he began wailing about something into her chest, rocking him back and forth gently.

Brittany came up to her, very concerned and the woman turned to her with an apologetic note in her voice as if she was sorry for missing their usual interaction. “I’ve been up all night. Kenai had a high fever and a stomachache. He was crying for hours and I can’t let him go to preschool today,” She sighed wearily. “Then my fucking boss just called and decided that he wants me to finish these fifty page reports by yesterday.”

“I’m sorry you had such a rough night,” Britt said softly, feeling terrible for the exhausted looking woman and her son who was still sniffling and shivering against her instead of being his typical cheerful self. “Poor little thing.”

“He just spit up on me too. Toddler vomit all over me to top off an already perfect morning.” She groaned sarcastically. She glanced at Brittany anxiously then, as if worried that she had said too much but then sighed as if figuring that she should just be honest because there was no way to salvage the already disastrous situation. It made Brittany pleased that she was making actual conversation with her and confiding in her for the first time.

“Why don’t you come with me? I have an extra t-shirt in the back you could change into if you like and you can get washed up.” Brittany suggested.

The woman was silent for a long moment, considering it. She seemed beyond surprised and very hesitant, her eyes darting around and body language tense as if she was nervous about who was watching her but then eventually followed Brittany into the back room.

“I didn’t catch your name, by the way?” Brittany asked, hoping to get closer to her.

“It’s Santana. Santana Lopez.”

“Such a pretty name.” Brittany couldn’t resist saying and the woman became flustered, avoiding her eyes and saying nothing which made the blonde’s smile grow wider. It was so easy to get a rise out of her. "I'm Brittany, as I'm sure you already guessed," she laughed, pointing to the name tag on her dress.

Brittany quickly found one of her old shirts that seemed like it could be Santana’s style. At least it was a solid color navy blue instead of the usual bright pastels and animal patterns the blonde normally wore when she wasn’t at work. She waited outside while she changed.

“Thank you,” Santana sounded relieved and grateful when they finally made it back to a booth seat, Kenai still cuddled up in her arms. “I’ll have -“

“Let me guess… coffee with no milk or sugar, a small chocolate milk, two pancakes, bacon, toast, and two eggs sunny side up over easy?”

Santana nodded, wide-eyed at how well Brittany had memorized her order. “That's right.”

"Coming right up!"

“Thank you… Brittany.” The blonde felt a thrill go through her, pleased that the reserved Santana was using her first name for the first time. It wasn’t much but it was something. She even smiled at her for once as well, dimples showing on her cheeks that were just like her son’s.

“You’re welcome. Aw, poor little Kenai.”

Brittany’s gaze fell on the toddler who was normally talkative and all big smiles but now just stared listlessly, curled into Santana the whole time as if seeking her protection. He wouldn’t drink or eat anything his mother offered him, which seemed to be upsetting her more. Santana’s expressions became increasingly worried as the minutes passed.

“Is there anything else I can get you two?” Brittany asked when Santana looked up questioningly as if wondering why she was still standing there.

“I don’t think so.” Santana replied sadly as she continued to keep a watchful eye on her son. Brittany felt terrible for the Lopezes.

“Hi Kenai.” Brittany whispered softly and his face brightened a little as he saw her but his eyes were red-rimmed as if he had been crying. It was obvious that he still wasn’t feeling well.

“You can say hi, Sweetie.” Santana encouraged him, stroking his hair gently. “Say ‘Hi Miss Brittany’.”

“Hi,” Kenai gave her a small wave but seemed too tired to do much more. He began to babble again as Brittany just smiled at him. “Hi… Mommy.”

Santana frowned in confusion and Brittany just giggled, playing along with him. “So I’m still the other mommy.”

“Whoa Kenai, she’s not your… we talked about this.” Santana muttered, embarrassed and shrinking into her seat as her eyes widened when she took in Brittany’s words.

Brittany wondered if she had taken her joke too far as she did have a habit of just blurting things out sometimes but Santana didn’t seem to be offended, just confused. Santana didn’t say anything more to reprimand the sick boy, watching him with concern and rubbing his back as he struggled to keep his eyes open and leaned against her arm, whispering something about “Mommy.”

Suddenly having an idea about what she could do, Brittany walked away and quickly returned with a slice of fancy looking vanilla cake with red and blue icing wrapped in a napkin that made Kenai look happier than he had all morning when he saw it. He smiled big at her, his dimples deepening and actually squealed.

“Wow, are you sure?” Santana turned to Brittany, puzzled and pulling out her purse. “I can pay for that…”

“Don’t worry, it’s on the house,” Brittany told her with a wink and if her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her she could swear she saw heat rise to Santana’s cheeks. “It’s not much but it’s the least I can do for my two favorite guests.”

“Brittany… I don’t know what to say. Thank you.” Santana breathed after a long moment, seemingly amazed by her kindness.

“Just get lots of rest and feel better, both of you and come back soon!”

Santana just smiled at her again gratefully.

As usual, even though the blonde hadn’t done much other than be friendly, Santana left a huge tip for Brittany that was more than she got from even the richest customers they served in town. She could probably afford to buy a new car by the time she was finished counting up all the tips Santana had given her but instead she kept setting them aside, not wanting to spend them. She couldn't help but want to know more about the mysterious woman who always seemed to be on her mind.

____

End of Part I

A/N: I was looking through old pics of Naya (missing her everyday) and seeing her with her son made me think how adorable single mom!Santana with a toddler would be. So that's how the idea for this fic started. Don't worry, she's still gay and always has been. There's an explanation that I hope will make sense and there won't be any forced hetero anything for Santana because that's not her. Santana may seem slightly OOC at first as I imagine she would have been angrier and more closed off in a world where Brittana had never met before - but it is indeed a struggle to write her not simping for Britt right away.

#Brittana #Santana Lopez #Brittany Pierce #Brittany S. Pierce #Brittana Fanfiction #Glee Fanfiction #Grumpy Cat #my fics #Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce #Finally posting this here #Brittana as moms

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