It’s their first child.

Santana’s terrified. Possibly even more so than Tina, who’s the one who’s actually going through childbirth. But maybe it has to do with the fact that Finn, as the baby donor, is in the room as well, and he’s looking as green as Santana feels.

“San,” Tina grunts, crushing Santana’s hand in hers, “San, dammit, why the hell am I the one squeezing out our son again? I - ahhhhhhhhh!”

Santana leans over, pressing a firm kiss to her wife’s sweaty forehead. “Because you’re the one who can get away with being sexy all throughout the pregnancy, remember?” She smiles, forcing herself to sound as upbeat as she doesn’t feel, accepting Tina’s glare, leaning down to kiss her quickly before nodding, “Again, hun.”

“Oh god,” Finn moans from Tina’s other side, his large hand almost completely white as he squeezes Tina’s hand just as tight as she’s squeezing his, “Are we - is it almost done?”

“Almost,” the doctor interrupts with good humor, obviously smiling supportively from behind his mask, “The head is crowning!”

Tina groans again, her head flopping back before she takes a deep breath and pushes again. Almost immediately, suddenly, a loud cry splits the air, and Santana is wrapping Tina up in a one-armed hug as she also leans forward to try and see over everything in the way. “You did it,” she babbles, kissing Tina’s face over and over again, crying and almost fainting with relief, “You did it, baby.”

But Tina’s already reaching out, impatiently waiting for the small red and screaming thing to be placed in her arms. “Oh, San…” she breathes, not looking away from their son, “He’s…”

“Wow…” Finn whispers, being perfect by not trying to crowd forward, content to stare at the tiny entity from his side of the hospital bed.

Reaching blindly for his hand as she’s too busy staring at her wife and their new son, Santana squeezes it. “He’s beautiful,” she whispers, meeting Tina’s gaze; she smiles, and means it, absolutely means it when she whispers again a second later, “Just like his mother.”

“Like I could,” Santana called back, rolling her eyes, “Not like you’ve been babbling about it for days and made me stay up with you all night to make it with you or anything.”

Stepping back into the kitchen, Tina gave her a knowing smile. “Just because you’re terrified of seeing Rachel again doesn’t mean you should turn your bitch onto me.”

Santana narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”

Tina walked past her to scoop up the pie, smirking. “You heard me.”

“I’m not terrified. That’s… No. Just no.”

“Mmhm, right.”

Growling, Santana yanked the pie from her. “I got this.”

Santana hid a smile. Gripping the weights, she squared her feet.

“I love when she does this,” Tina sighed appreciatively, whispering to Rachel.

Rachel nodded, biting down on her lower lip. Her fingers dug into Tina’s waist, “She’s just… Mmm.”

Looking in the girls’ direction, Santana purposefully made a show of her bicep curls.

Tina and Rachel groaned, leaning into each other. Tina’s hand slid up Rachel’s back, Rachel’s hands inched up Tina’s stomach. “Mmm…”

Tina can’t feel her face. It isn’t that she’s been drinking - she hasn’t been - but it’s more like what she’s feeling right now is like being drunk on more than 100 drinks at a time. She can’t believe this. Five years after hooking up with Santana at the second glee get together, five years after two break-ups and countless dates, and five years after Tina’s future became Santana and not Asian #2, this is finally the day she had never thought would come.

But it has. And, amid a small smattering of panic, Tina’s more excited than anything.

Hence the non-feeling.

“If you become any more red,” Rachel smiles at her as she puts the finishing touches on Tina’s hair, “I’d be afraid you were getting sick. But it’s all happy nerves, am I right?”

Tina stares at her. “Happy. Yes. I…” she trails off, tears building in her eyes, “Santana…”

“Oh god. Tina. Stop.” Jumping up from the love seat, Quinn grabs a tissue from the nearest box and dabs at Tina’s eyes. “Save the waterworks for the actual ceremony, okay? Sure, Santana would still find you beautiful, but wouldn’t you rather her getting to see you not mascara-dripping at first?”

Sucking in her tears as much as she can, Tina nods. “Right. Right.”

Rachel and Quinn exchange humorous grins.

*

Santana can’t stay still. Pacing back and forth, hands shaky at her sides, she’s babbling things even she can’t understand at Kurt and Puck. “But, marriage. It’s happening. She said yes. And today. Today.”

“Today you’re getting married to her,” Kurt nods, studying his nails, “In less than an hour, I might add.”

Santana’s face goes red. “An hour?” She clears her throat, then whirls around, staring at the two men, “Can I go see her? Now? I want to see her.”

Jumping up, Puck slides his arms around Santana’s waist, pulling her back around to trap her between him and Kurt. “Stop, San. I may not know what’s going on exactly with this wedding thing, but I do know it’s bad luck to see the wife before the actual ceremony.”

“Yeah, and you know it’s going to be even more special,” Kurt chimes in. Studying Santana, hands fluttering around her face and hair as he takes one last look, he smiles at her. “Excited?”

“More than you know.” Licking her lips, grateful for the staying lipstick, Santana smiles back at him. She pauses. “She said yes. She said yes!”

Kurt looks at Puck, rolling his eyes. “She did,” he nods, taking her hand to pull her to the couch where Puck had already sat down, “But why don’t you tell us all about it. Again?”

In alphabetical order by ship.

Under the Read More are 27 stories containing Artchel, Brittana, Brittberry, Fabang, Faberrittana, Faberry, Fapezberry, Fritters, Pierceman, Puckleberry, Quinncedes, Quinntana, Quitt, Samchelpez, Santina, Santinchel, Tike, Tikeberry, Tinchel, and Other.

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When Santana greeted her father as Head Asian Vampire Chang, Tina flushed.

Rachel walked into the bar. Feeling the instant heat against her face and neck where her jacket gaped open, she barely waited until she found the first free spot to start pulling her arms out of it.

“Rachel!” Sam’s voice suddenly grinned from in front of her, the blond pushing aside a random man to get to her. “Here, let me take that. We’ve got a table in the back.”

Handing him her jacket, Rachel smiled, her hand snaking around his waist so she could keep close to him; sometimes it really was unfortunate being as short as she was. “Thank you. You managed to find a table?” She had to raise her voice to be heard as evidently one of the teams featured on the various television screens scored due to the cries of elation and groans of annoyance that erupted.

Sam nodded. Motioning for Rachel to pass him as they reached the table where Tina, Mike, Puck, and Quinn waited, “Puck showed up hours ago. Hey everyone, look who’s here!”

“Fellow hot Jew!” Puck grinned, raising his beer at her, Mike and Tina waving in between picking apart their wings. Rachel happily waved back, “Hi guys.”

“You braved the crowds, eh?” Quinn smiled at her, patting the seat next to her.

“Of course,” Rachel replied, thanking Sam when he draped her jacket  over the back of her chair before going back to joining Puck and Mike in making sure no one else tried to steal the as yet unclaimed seven chairs, “It isn’t every day I get to see my fellow gleeks, even if it is during one of the worst days to set foot inside of a sports bar.”

“I know, right?” Tina grinned, taking a deep sip of what looked like her signature Asian Fusion Twins special: copious amounts of alcohol, energy drink, and fruity taste, “But at least it’s not boring.”

Plucking up the half-menu in the middle of the table, Rachel realized the empty seat next to her wasn’t really empty as an already sweating beer sat waiting for its owner to come back. “Super Bowl is never boring,” she laughed, then indicated the beer, “Who else is here?”

“Oh, that’s Santana. She’s currently on the phone with ‘Cedes, trying to find out when she’s coming with Kurt and Dave.” Tina pushed her drink at Rachel, “Want some?”

“No, that’s okay. I’ll have my own drink pretty soon.”

Tina shrugged, “No worries. Means more for me.”

“And you wonder why we think you’re an alcoholic in the making,” Quinn teased, swiping Tina’s drink to take a sip of her own, “Jeez, Tina! That’s - my throat’s on fire!”

“Been going down on Mike again, Fabray?” Santana smirked, sliding into her chair. “About twenty minutes more.” Ducking the fry Quinn threw at her, Santana’s smirk grew at the expressions on Tina and Rachel’s faces, the boys having somehow missed the comment entirely. “And you guys call yourself straight? It’s a dick. It won’t kill you.”

“Thank you for those lovely words of oral sex encouragement, Santana,” Rachel gave her a pointed look before dissolving into giggles, “You are so shameless!”

Santana shrugged, hands in the air, smiling fakely modestly, “What can you do when you’re as fucking awesome as I am?”

“At least you’re willing to admit it,” Quinn rolled her eyes, eating the french fry she’d just picked up instead of tossing it at Santana again.

“Uhm, kind of - kind of would negate it if she wasn’t,” Tina spoke over Santana, stirring her drink with her straw as she grinned.

Shaking her head, smirking, Rachel went back to reading over the menu. Ears idly alternating between the girls’ conversation about Santana’s ego and the guys’ conversation about the game, Rachel’s head snapped up, a breathy squeak leaving her mouth when someone suddenly put their hand on her thigh. “Excuse me - ” she started, glaring, face almost somersaulting in its haste to change into one of delight when she realized it was boyfriend. “You made it!” she exclaimed, kissing Artie, “I thought you were going to be busy for a while yet.”

Artie kissed her back, thanking Quinn when she obligingly moved her chair aside enough so he could wheel in next to Rachel, automatically taking her hand, “I wasn’t, until I remembered being the boss meant I could call it a day whenever I wanted to. Hey guys.”

“Artie!” Sam greeted, he, Mike, and Puck raising their beer mugs in greeting, Tina and Santana doing the same with their drinks. “Wheels,” Santana grinned, “Any trouble gettin’ through the crowd?”

Artie raised an eyebrow at her, putting his hand in the air in accompaniment to his words and affected voice, ”Girl, when you have a wheelchair, everyone knows to move out of the way unless they want a broken foot courtesy of the Crusher.”

The group laughed, Sam moving forward to give him a high five.

Waiting for the high five to end, Rachel squeezed Artie’s hand, diverting his attention. “So,” she leaned forward, whispering into his ear, “How long do you think we can get away with staying before we can go home and have a Super Bowl party of our own?”

Artie’s fingers tensed around hers. “Cheerleader outfit?” he swallowed, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, behind his glasses.

Rachel kissed the tip of his ear. “Mmhm. I ever tell you how sexy you still look in your football uniform?” Enjoying his low clearing of his throat, Rachel kissed his ear again and affectionately ran her free hand through his hair. If someone had told her in high school she would have ended up with Artie Abrams and happily so, she would have said they were crazy and devoted half a day to making a PowerPoint presentation at just how ridiculous it was to even contemplate. But now, a year strong, Rachel smiled and snuggled in when he slung his arm around her waist, leaning into his wheelchair and his side, enjoying listening to her group of gleeks resettle at Artie’s inclusion as she and Artie looked over the menu, she knew she was happy she’d asked him out after rekindling their friendship in New York.

Puck stood up, squaring his shoulders. “Alright, beer run. Give me your orders.” When everyone with the exception of Santana called out, he groaned. “Okay, no. Dude. Mike, bro, you’re coming with.”

Making a face, Mike stood up. Going over to Quinn’s side when she motioned for him, he bent down to accept her kiss and teasing, “Good luck. I believe in you. Don’t die.” 

“Har har,” he made a face, smiling, then poked Puck so they could quickly disappear into the direction of the bar through the still very active crowd.

Santana chuckled. “At this rate, I almost feel like I’m obligated to kiss my girl.”

Turning to her, Tina set down her drink. Raising her eyebrows, she crossed her arms, grinning. “Well? I’m not stopping you.”

Rachel, Quinn, Artie, and Sam’s mouths dropped. “W-wait,” Sam spluttered, pointing between the two, “You two? Nah.” A smile split his face. “When?”

Sighing, smiling, Santana slid over to wrap her hand around the back of Tina’s neck, bringing her in. Kissing her slowly, deeply, her other hand disappearing down to cup Tina’s waist, Tina’s arms came up to wrap around her shoulders.

“…Damn,” Artie whispered. Rachel nodded.

Quinn let out a loud, “Whoo!” clapping. “About time,” she smiled broadly, “But, ladies, we are in public.”

Dragging her hand back, Santana threw the blonde a blind middle finger, it ending up more in Artie’s direction than her intended target. Still, she grudgingly pulled back. “Damn,” she husked, “Best way of coming out ever.”

“Oh yeah,” Tina agreed, pushing her hair behind her ear, cheeks flushing lightly. She took up her drink of lieu of saying anything else, one hand conspicuously under the table where Rachel hoped for her sake it was just holding Santana’s hand and not Santana’s… Other.

Sam let out a low whistle, Rachel shaking her head with a giant smile on her face. “You guys,” she gushed, “I’m so happy for you!” Taking her hand away from Artie, she brought back Quinn’s applause. 

Artie added his own applause, shaking his head, lips quirked up. “Damn girls, hawt!” When Rachel nudged him with her elbow, glaring at him, he laughed, “No, no, but awesome. Welcome to the couples club!” He leaned across Rachel’s front to high five both Santana and Tina in turn. Pausing on Santana, he sobered a little, “Do I got to give you the ‘speech’?”

Santana’s eyebrow quirked. “When a man and a woman love each other, the man puts his - “

Tina slapped her shoulder. “Santana, stop. And Artie, thank you. That’s sweet.” She slid her fingers up and down Santana’s arm, smiling softly, “I think I’m fine, though.”

“Damn fine,” Santana hummed, going to kiss Tina again…

…Only to get stopped from an Asian Fusion Twin getting thrust between their faces. “You’re lucky,” Puck chastised, pointing at the two of them, “That Changster caught that on his phone. Because doing that where the Puckasaurus can’t see it is wrong.”

Mike, smoothly walking back to his seat, he and Quinn’s drinks in his hands, froze, then hung his head. 

Quinn punched his arm. “I said not die. Santana’s going to kill you!”

And indeed Santana was already up, out of her chair. “Mikey…” her voice was low and sugary sweet, promising bodily harm, “Give me your phone.”

Stumbling back, colliding with a man making his way across the room, Mike apologized, his head snapping back and forth from him and Santana. “Santana, listen, I’ll delete it! It was a mistake!”

“You’re damn right it was a mistake,” Santana growled, then abruptly smirked, rocking back on her heels, “But don’t you dares delete it until I gets to see it.”

“Hey!” Tina protested, making to stand up but evidently thinking better of it, sinking back down in her seat. “Just be smart,” she glared at Santana, who blew her a kiss back.

Booing good naturedly, Rachel grinned at Tina, shrugging in slight supplication. “She’s your girlfriend now,” she giggled, waving a finger at Tina before picking up her own drink, “So you better get used to it!” Taking a small sip of her own muted down version of the Asian Fusion Twins, she offered it to Artie.

Declining, Artie slipped his hand back down to Rachel’s knee, lightly curling down towards her inner thigh. Hugging his arm, knowing he wasn’t trying to start anything, Rachel turned her attention towards appreciating Quinn’s incessant teasing of Tina that smoothly segued into requesting all of the dirty information she could, everyone else joining in except for Santana and Sam who had gone off on the quest for more chicken wings, reappearing minutes later with some vegan substitutes as well. Already completely enjoying herself, Rachel’s smile grew even bigger when Kurt, Mercedes, and Dave joined them, and even bigger still when Finn and Brittany finally arrived ten minutes later. 

This group, her friends, the people she loved the most in the world… She couldn’t be happier - - even if they were in a sports bar on Super Bowl Sunday. 

But honestly. Rachel caught Kurt and Mercedes’ eyes, nodding determinedly. 

God help anyone who thought they were going to get away with speaking during Beyonce’s halftime show.

For three years Tina had sat in the background, sometimes feeling even more in the background than Santana, as the ‘Hot Cheerio,’ had been. Sure, she’d almost had the spotlight as the vampire stuttering Asian, but even that hadn’t measured up to Santana’s sultry position.

Nope. Once she’d broken up with Artie and become part of the Asian Fusion Twins, Tina had slid even farther back.

…Thing was, Tina didn’t want to be behind Santana. Well, actually, she did… But not like that. No. She wanted to be Santana’s equal.

The problem, Tina sighed, staring at herself in the mirror as she tried to perfect her, ‘woe is me, I’m now single and suddenly openly bisexual because here you are again Santana because really, you’re spending so much time in Lima that it’s a wonder you’re passing your Louisville classes, but that’s okay because it gives me a chance to hit on you’ expression, was that she’d never made her interest in Santana known.

At least… She frowned, she didn’t think she had.

She didn’t know. She’d never had the best image of herself as an enamored girl before. Normally she’d just kissed the guy she’d liked and be done with it.

But Santana, neither a guy nor a normal person, was going to be a whole ‘nother problem altogether.

“…You’re trying too hard,” Brittany suddenly popped up next to her, pulling a comb that looked suspiciously like the one Tina had tried to throw away earlier but missed the trash can but didn’t care enough to pick up through her hair.

“Uhm…?”

“Too hard.” Brittany nodded. “Just be blunt. Santana likes that.”

Caught off guard, Tina furrowed her brow. “Did you… Did you pick that comb up off the ground?”

“Mmhm!” Bouncing in place, Brittany grinned at her, “Free combs are the best.”

“Right.”

“No, but seriously,” the blonde was suddenly serious again, “Just talk to her. She knows you like her.”

Tina’s mouth dropped open. Blinking, she tried to center herself again. “I… What?”

“She. Knows. You. Like. Her,” Brittany smiled at her, “You’re kind of obvious.”

Resisting the urge to snatch her comb back – Mike’s mother had, after all, given it to her – Tina settled back on her heels. “…How?”

“The fact you’re always staring at me?”

“I’m not always staring at – !” Tina’s mouth clacked shut. That hadn’t been Brittany’s voice. Then, when a toilet flushed behind her, she froze.

Brittany smiled at her.

The door of the stall behind Tina pushed open. “Congratulations,” Santana drawled, eyebrows raising into a knowing look as she walked up to the sink between Brittany and Tina, “You’ve just managed to embarrass yourself.”

“…Right.” Tina swallowed, her voice barely passing her throat, “I…? You.” She clicked her teeth together, standing up straight as she realized the position she truly was in, “You’re incredibly pretty, Santana.”

“Only pretty?” Santana cocked her head, turning on the tap. Her lips twitched up.

Tina couldn’t help narrowing her eyes, lifting her chin. Even though her mind raced, she didn’t know what to say. Finally, Brittany humming aimlessly as she continued combing her hair, Santana washing her hands with her eyes squarely on Tina, Tina swallowed. “Go out with me,” she barely stuttered, courage exploding in her chest and up her throat, her own lips turning up, “And I’ll tell you what you are.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on,” Santana threw her hands up, rolling her eyes, “We did this last summer. What’s the difference now?”

From where she was sitting on her bed, eyes moving back and forth between her squared off girlfriends, Tina gave Santana an apologetic smile. “I’m actually with Rachel on this one. We’re all over eighteen now. We’d be legally in trouble.”

“If caught,” Santana stressed, “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course.” Taking a seat next to Tina, Rachel exchanged glances with her, two big, slow smirks crossing their faces. “We do.”

“…But convince us?”

Santana laughed throatily. “Wanky bitches.”

“…Rachel’s not coming?”

“Oh, she is,” Santana nodded, motioning for Tina to take the passenger seat, “She’s just going to meet us there.”

A wide smile splitting her face before disappearing and coming back more nervous, Tina nodded and slid in. Instantly busying herself with the seatbelt, she let out a breath when Santana squeezed her knee.

“Teeny, relax,” Santana grinned, “We won’t bite if you don’t want us to.”

Red rose on Tina’s cheeks. “Okay,” her smile finally relaxed completely, “Where are we going?”

Lowering her sunglasses onto her nose, Santana smirked. “Now where’s the fun in telling you?”