Finntana existing
With Finn’s arm around her shoulders, Santana comfortably snuggled into his side, she couldn’t stop herself from smirking at Rachel. That’s right, she thought, the corners of her eyes crinkling even after she’d told them they didn’t have to, He’s mine.
He, being, of course, Finn.
And the meaning behind her thoughts being, of course, the fact that Rachel wasn’t the one who had Finn.
No, Santana smiled, pressing herself closer into the quarterback, pulling his large hand into her lap so it could press into her crotch even as she laced their fingers together, she, Santana, was the one who had Finn’s heart.
Not Rachel.
Not anyone else.
Not any girl who stepped uselessly into the wolves’ den without knowing it.
Laughing along with something silly he said to Puck, Santana pressed her lips against Finn’s jaw line, snuggling into the lanky boy’s side.
Who cared if he was younger than her? Who cared if he only barely supplied the popularity she wanted? He was what she wanted.
…
He was who could give her what she wanted.
Finn’s arm tightened around Santana’s shoulders, and he smiled, turning his attention to grinning down at her. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, fingers stroking absently along her side.
“Of course,” Santana smiled back up at him as she purposefully snuggled into him, hoping he couldn’t read through her expression.
Of course she was okay.
They were a thing, weren’t they?
A real thing.
A thing that had no reason to be threatened by any, Santana resolved again, surging up, pressing her lips against her boyfriend’s, her tongue coming out to lick along the seam of said boyfriend’s mouth, perverted, or unnatural impulses that Santana could ever, ever, ever – so ever happen to have.
