satans-famiiliar

[satans-famiiliar]

“I’d hardly call myself the ‘Good Cop’.  More like the ‘I’m not taking anymore shit from bitches with sticks up their asses’ Cop-in-Training.”  Santana straightened.  

“You’re new to this town Scarlet, but the times are a-changing.  For example, I’m ranked second on ROTC line.  Special powers training session.  And you’re in my blood bar-- just ask around if you want to know how I feel about Fangers who step out of line here.”  Santana had power to wield-- a way to protect the people she cared about-- and damned if she wasn’t going to use it, even if that meant enforcing stupid crap she didn’t care about.

(to Juliette) "It may be Christmas, but that’s still illegal."

 “Santana Lopez turned into a good cop now? Well that’s an interesting evolution.”

[satans-famiiliar]

awkwardangel-mason

Well, despite the trouble she caused (pretty much all through the summer), Lynn had at least kept her promise about connecting Mason with a Guardian Angel that had some experience with their link.  It had taken a lot of hard work, but the sixteen-year old blonde had finally gotten enough of a grip on himself that every little flash of irritation or worry that hit Monroe didn’t send the younger boy into a panic.

It didn’t stop him from wanting to be close to the older boy, however, which caused more than a few issues, since the geopath hadn’t really warmed up to the angel since he’d first arrived.  Monroe did seem to tolerate Mason hanging out at Neptune’s Trident so long as he stayed in the back and didn’t talk to him, but the teenager could tell he was probably eagerly waiting for Mason to get complete control of their emotional link so that he could sever it.  It wasn’t much of a leap to guess that there was only one person Monroe Jameson was okay with sharing his vulnerabilities with– maybe two– and it certainly was never going to include the kid that had magically been granted access to him.

Monroe wasn’t the only person that had been having a difficult summer because of Mason– Piper was very possibly equally unhappy with the arrangement.  Following the AFTER Games, she’d managed to come to terms with Mason and Monroe being sort of destined to be connected, had forgiven him for it, and they’d been able to restart their relationship to Mason’s joy.  But the Agent’s daughter seemed equally irritated with him that he couldn’t just turn off his need to be around the Hazel Runner, and while she still came with him to Neptune’s Trident, it was with a sort of passive-aggressive disapproval that he was desperate to fix between them.

And so, with school restarting, Mason had made an effort to attempt to find a way to sate his emotional reliance on Monroe without actually being around Monroe.  He’d spent more time with Natalie at work– and, by association, Charlie– but the best substitute he’d found was probably the one that wanted to see him as much as the man himself: Santana.  

Since the Warg had started living with Monroe, Mason had noticed she seemed to just pick up more of his– he didn’t know how to describe it.  Essence maybe?  Santana definitely carried a lot of Monroe’s well-being with her: her coma had proven how tied together they were.  And with the girl no longer going to school, she seemed to have more time on her hands to just wander around.  All he had to do was find her.

Not to say she was generally happy when he did so.  “Um, it’s lunch,” he replied nervously, eyes flicking back and forth between her and his shoes as his wings ruffled nervously behind him.  Hers never seemed to, his mind noted jealously.  “And I saw you here, and I just thought I’d stop and say hi I guess.”

The witch scoffed.  Almost a year of being in the same town and the guy was as awkward as ever.  “You mean you figured I was on my way over to Neptune’s and if we showed up together you could sit closer to my boyfriend?  Suck up some of our vibes?  That is really creepy Johnny Angel.”  Her locks rippled around her shoulders as she finally turned to look at him, eyebrow arched pointedly.  “So, when we have sex, are you like, experiencing those feelings?” she asked.  “Is that like some weird planar porn for you?  I bet that’s got to heat up things between you and Yellow Fish.”

She shifted in her seat moodily, but didn’t actually get up.  She should: he’d been coming up to her more and more often as time passed, even if he was still partly-intimidated by her, and if she continued to tolerate him, he’d probably just gain confidence.  Not that the feather-brain was horrible company, but Santana didn’t want him to start getting it into his head that she actually cared about his ass.  Mason was amusing for the fact that he was connected to her boyfriend-- that they were polar opposites and yet linked by some creepy move on the universe’s part-- but that didn’t make them friends.  Her dark eyes fluttered slightly as she sighed.  “So, don’t you have work or a date or friends or something?” she asked, somewhat regretting that she’d opened them up to conversation.  

para|| On the Wings of Change: Santana/Mason, 10/10/2015

[satans-famiiliar]

para|| On the Wings of Change: Santana/Mason, 10/10/2015

Santana sat at the base of the Old Man Statue in Wilde Square, contemplating the people as they walked by.  She had work in a little bit, but she still probably should grab a bite to eat before heading over.  For most of the summer, she’d spent a lot of her meals at Neptune’s Trident or Style and Glaze, making good use of the fact that her boyfriend and best friend made excellent munchies.  And through September, she’d still done the same, even as the numbers lessened with so many residents heading off to school.  And then her birthday had come and gone.

Santana had no desire to go to Luxsit-- she didn’t have any reason to sit in a stuffy classroom and learn things she was never going to need to know.  She tolerated being on ROTC because she always enjoyed pissing off Darling, and hell, she’d admit it-- she still hadn’t let go of the idea of being reunited with Britt by becoming a Suit herself.  Plus the workout was damned good for her.

But she felt a little on-edge since her nineteenth birthday had come and gone, and while she couldn’t really identify the source of the feeling, it had been enough that she’d taken to trying to roaming the town-- avoiding places where she had instant links and people-- in order to try to shake the restlessness.  The town square was kind of dull, but a lot of people did walk by.  Maybe she could at least find someone to mock.

A body slid into the seat beside her, about forty percent confidence and sixty percent uncertainty.  Throw in the slight ruffle of his feathers behind him, and the Latina didn’t even have to glance in her peripheral vision to guess who was there.

“What are you doing here Chicken?”

[satans-famiiliar]

Relationship Moodboard-- Montana (Santana/Monroe)-- Santana protective

Santana (to Ronnie):  You don’t know shit about him, or any of us.  You’re just some pathetic sheltered homebody that’s only heard about Rebels in hushed whispers and lurking shadows under the bed.  Face it Darling– you know about as much about Rebels as I do about fucking Quantum Physics.  And if you or your lackeys so much as look at Monroe in a way that threatens him, I will go so Lima Heights on your ass that the Suits will be more concerned with how to keep all of you breathing than how to keep you in line 

[satans-famiiliar]

Speak for yourself Darling.  Do the world a favor and get your tubes tied before your creepy Serpent tryst ends up putting his probe in your cloaca and ends up populating the town with anymore self-righteous witch-shits.

so San's carrying a bit of extra chub in her gut-- you two want to confess anything?

Considering aside from herself, I’m the last to see her naked. There’s no chub to speak of.

[satans-famiiliar]

Someone’s getting awfully defensive for a “dead horse”...

What's up with U + Ronnie? #B&WScandal

Scandal? Ronnie? I was nothing but a gentleman at the Black and White Ball escorting Miss Charlotte Fabray. I have no earthly idea what you may be referring to, my good Anon.

[satans-famiiliar]

I’m pretty certain Snake-boy is jesting, Mace.  Or maybe not.  If the latter-- am I invited?

Did you do anything special for your brother's birthday this year? Big 1-6 and all?

Hookers. Strippers (which Charlie’s totally designing the cake for). Lots of porn and dirty magazines gift wrapped. Everything a 16 year old boy could ever want. 

[satans-famiiliar]

Guy’s a seabie-- I think you’re sliding him into the wrong group.  Ask Powder Paws and Yellow Fang if there’s a weird manage et beast going on.

Who's better in bed-- Owen or Santana? Or do you just like to watch?

What happens behind closed doors is nothing for you to know about.

[satans-famiiliar]

Fess up with the bump-- is there a Montana baby in the works?

Excuse me?!  Are you calling me fat?  People would kill to have curves like these.

[satans-famiiliar]

Ronnie’s eyes narrowed, but she wasn’t going to give the lazy Latina the satisfaction of a response.  Even if her sex life had been non-existent, that didn’t make the healer any less superior to the raven-haired girl in the slightest.  But there really wasn’t a way to defend herself without delving into aspects of her personal life that she’d rather be dead than share with Santana Lopez.  

The blonde couldn’t help herself, however, as she bit back, “Well at least I don’t have to worry about my ride selling me and mine out and burning down my home– again.”  The sophomore knew she was on shaky ground with such a veiled accusation, but around Lopez she’d be damned if it didn’t shake her ability to rein in her temper.

“Shut up.” Of course the damn Warg then ran her mouth about Warren.  God freaking damn it.  How did she know?  Was the girl freaking stalking her or what?  Ronnie couldn’t help the way her eyes bugged in their sockets when the tanned girl alluded so obviously to him.  She’d been making every effort to keep under wraps that she’d begun falling back on her former bad habit– ever since the Black and White Ball she had found herself ensnared by that sly serpent again, as much as she wished she wasn’t.  Her dad and sister both would be incredibly disappointed if they found out.  And here was the thorn in her side, now just twisting herself in a little deeper by warping her own flaw with the fact that her attempt at catching Brody’s eye had completely been ruined by Agent Baker’s existence in Copper Springs.

Ronnie quickly recollected herself as she caught Santana’s grin of victory– she wouldn’t let the other girl win this.  “My personal life may be a work in progress, Lopez, but at least I’m not lying to myself about it.  You, on the other hand, are pathetically transparent in your effort to remain oblivious to the fact that you can’t choose between your girlfriend and your boyfriend, so you’re just straddling both sides like you can just have both.  Keep it up, and everyone’s going to drop you.  I just hope I’m there when it happens.”

The healer was lucky that cadets number 3-10 were all stumbling in across the finish line, because she was milliseconds away from jumping her sorry ass and going all Lima Heights on her.  “You shut your scale-sucking mouth,” the Latina hissed venomously, her expression pure hatred.  Santana had never really gotten over what this town had done to her boyfriend-- the way that, even punished, the damn group that had hurt him had seamlessly seemed to walk back into their normal lives.  She’d kept an eye on every one of them as they’d “paid their dues” and been allowed their powers and privileges as summer had come to an end.  The fact that some of them were Darling’s friends just made her more volatile toward the blonde bitch, and the Warg could barely contain her temper.  “You don’t know shit about him, or any of us.  You’re just some pathetic sheltered homebody that’s only heard about Rebels in hushed whispers and lurking shadows under the bed.  Face it Darling-- you know about as much about Rebels as I do about fucking Quantum Physics.  And if you or your lackeys so much as look at Monroe in a way that threatens him, I will go so Lima Heights on your ass that the Suits will be more concerned with how to keep all of you breathing than how to keep you in line.”  The girl’s body was practically shaking with anger as she thought about her friends fellow freaks and her old town-- she may not have liked the place much, but she would have gladly stood beside the geopath and helped him take the assholes that hurt them down if she could turn back the clock.

The petulant “Shut up” was music to Santana’s ears-- putting the healer in her place wasn’t something she got to do very often, since she was supposed to be focusing on training during practice and they almost never saw each other one-on-one.  The blonde bitch thought she was superior to the Warg because she had a leg up on the situation, was a year ahead of her in schooling.  But really she was just as lost as the rest of them, and Santana was more than eager to prove that to her.

The winged teenager bristled when the other witch referenced Brittany though-- like she was leading her friend and Monroe both on with her choices.  Santana wished she was immune by now to the still-rampant gossip that chased after her whenever Britt was brought up-- that she didn’t worry if maybe she was being delusional in her hopes that everything that made her happy right now could stay, with the inclusion of the siren back in her life in the near future.  She tried not to think about it much honestly, since there were still so many complications in regards to how Britt as a Suit and Monroe as a Witness Protection Former Rebel could ever coexist in her world, but sometimes the thoughts still crept into her mind-- and apparently Ronnie knew that.

“I’m not lying to myself about anything,” she declared brazenly.  “Like how I know that you hate that I’m just as good as you are with infinitely less time in the system.  Like how the Suits won’t give me up even though I’ve hated them almost as long as I’ve known them.  Like how I don’t have to answer to anyone but myself about doing things that make me happy.  I imagine those little facts just eat away at your soul, Darling-- can your cute healing powers do anything about that?”

Para|| Back to the Start: Ronnie/Santana, 9/21/2015

[satans-famiiliar]

Good God in Holy Hell, was Santana exhausted.  Her wings were sticking to her back, and despite her hair being tied in a Cheerio-approved hi-pony, sweat was still managing to slick its way all over her.  Wasn’t California supposed to be 75 degrees year round or something?  Fucking A.

She’d been pushing herself hard to stay on top in the ROTC ever since she’d been “recruited” to stay in the program.  She knew she should have been done when she graduated-- technically you were supposed to be a student or Suit-in-Training in order to be on the team, and ever since she got her claws around her diploma, she was neither.  The last thing she was interested in was attending more classes-- especially since everything that seemed to matter in her increasingly-fucked up world never got mentioned once in any textbook she’d seen.  As for being a Suit...well, that was still something the Latina couldn’t really wrap her head around-- for a lot of reasons.  But when she’d been approached by the ROTC Director about continuing with the program, he didn’t seem overly eager about putting her in the field immediately anyways, so she didn’t see any reason to ponder over that particular issue anyways.

She did miss Britt though-- maybe that was another reason she pushed herself to be the best.  It almost felt like she was giving up on her best friend if she didn’t try to reunite them, and she could never do that-- Brittany had been her world for too long, and even if it was pointless, San wasn’t going to just stop trying to bring them back together.

Trying to keep her body level as she crawled on her stomach, Santana finally managed to reach the end of the obstacle and push back onto her feet, sprinting her way toward the end of the course.  The witch focused solely on the sound of her breath and the closing distance between herself and the finish line, determined to finish strong.

When she crossed, that was a different story.  The teenager (eighteen for two more days, she couldn’t believe) grabbed a water bottle and began chugging, practically yanking off her shirt in her effort to use the fabric to wipe away the grime and sweat.  She dumped some of the remaining water over her head and nasty leather, reaching behind her to flap out the skin and dry them out.

Which was when she picked up on the hostile voice that had apparently beaten her to the end.  Again.  While the Latina wasn’t exactly surprised, it never ceased to stop pissing her off that the Darling witch bitch always managed to edge her out of that first place spot; probably because the blonde took every opportunity to cut at Santana when she did.  Like now, as she sneered at the Warg’s time, despite the third place runner still being nowhere in sight.

And then there was the jab about her sex life-- really?

“Better be careful Darling,” the raven-haired girl snarked with a smirk.  “Those words would sound like jealousy to the ears of a passerby.  I mean, seriously-- when was the last time you had a good ride that wasn’t run on batteries?”

Ronnie’s glare said everything, and that just made the other witch’s malicious nature flare up all the more.  “I mean, it’s got to be hard-- the guy you want to fuck is obsessed with one of my Suits, and the only one I could imagine doing you any good can’t get anywhere near you because he doesn’t have the Federal-Family Stamp of Approval.”  Her grin was like a cat eating a canary when she caught the blonde’s reaction. Surely the healer knew that everyone had seen her tiptoeing around Snake-boy like he was a landmine?  Like if she didn’t proceed with extreme caution she’d be blown to pieces just by being in his proximity?  It was pretty damn hilarious.

Para|| Back to the Start: Ronnie/Santana, 9/21/2015

Ronnie pushed the beads of sweat off of her forehead and onto the back of her hand, rubbing the slicked skin roughly against her cotton shirt as she finished her circuit and turned to face the rest of the group.  Most of them were old vets of the game, pushing off the last dregs of summer laziness; some were new recruits, trying to catch up to the higher standards of college level ROTC.  And then there was Santana-freaking-Lopez.

The Warg shouldn’t be here– she wasn’t in college, or any school for that matter.  She wasn’t an Agent-in-Training; hadn’t been officially recruited for anything.  And yet, just because she didn’t suck at her powers (okay, so she was pretty damn good), and was a rare sub-species of their kind, she somehow got a pass onto the team.  It royally pissed Ronnie off.

Arguing with the Director was useless– Santana Lopez was a top candidate in high school, and she still worked hard and came out second to only Ronnie herself on the field, so why shouldn’t she be allowed to be part of the team?  Despite that she apparently had no futuristic aspirations based on her day job as a bartender and her refusal to take college courses.  And the fact that she was probably only even entertaining the idea of being an Agent because her mistress or fuck buddy or whatever was one.  And the fact that she had a painfully obvious attitude problem, didn’t play well with others– and oh yeah: she was dating a freaking Rebel,

In the Healer’s mind, the list of reasons Lopez shouldn’t be here could go on for days, but the wavy-blonde was forced to keep her opinion to herself until formal reviews, when the supervising Agents would actually ask for it.  And that wasn’t going to happen in the very beginning of the school year.

Speaking of the Devil, the winged-Latina panted slightly as she finished up her own track, chugging water and tugging the hem of her shirt up to her face, completely exposing her toned stomach and sports bra as she wiped the sweat off of herself.

The college sophomore glanced at the clock beside them and clucked her tongue derisively.  “You know Lopez, you might be able to skim off those extra seconds if you actually put some real effort into your training.  You know, like taking your fat ass out of the air conditioning when it wasn’t required.  There is other cardio besides Reverse-Cowgirl, you know.”

It was a cheap shot, the blonde knew, but she couldn’t help it.  Somehow the bitch was getting all of the breaks even though she didn’t deserve it in the slightest, and if no one else was going to call her out on it, Ronnie was. 

[satans-famiiliar]

self para|| Knowing Me, Knowing You: Santana/Brittany, 5/17/2015

Santana stared into the mirror above Brittany’s dresser.  She focused on the reflective surface, the frame still covered in pictures and notes and various scribbles that made the room seem lived in, instead of the space beyond the Latina in its view, almost as boxed up and empty as the bedroom down the hall.  The witch wasn’t certain about her friend, but she pretty much hated being in the dorms anymore, with this constant reminder of the different directions she and her best friend’s lives were taking so quickly.  Even now, as they both dressed and primped for their first time on a yacht/cruise-ship thing for a freaking socialite formal, it just felt so bittersweet. Santana couldn’t even bring herself to smile at the beautifully crafted appearance before her.  

“We look hot,” the siren commented as she sidled up beside the other girl, forcing her friend to push her features into something more amiable to the event and throwing in a laugh.  

“We’ll definitely be the hottest bitches there,” the witch agreed with a nod.

Brittany shook her head, “We’ll be the hottest people there, girl or guy,” she corrected seriously.  Santana smiled and nodded again before turning away from the mirror and sauntering toward the bed, hand trailing over the bedspread.  The winged teen could hear the thoughtfulness in her friend’s tone as she asked, “Tana?”

The other simply shook her head as she gave a half-shrug, allowing her raven locks to slide from one side of her to the other and kept her face turned away from her friend.  As stupid as it seemed, the Latina sort of wished she wasn’t going to the dance now, regardless of the opportunity to sail away from this Devil-forsaken town with her boyfriend and do cute sappy things that he always had a knack for that always had a way of making her glad she did just about anything near him (even the shit that didn’t include sex).  She kind of just wanted to curl up with some slutty pjs and Top Ramen and sulk over her lack of a future.  

Brittany apparently didn’t like the quiet that replaced her friend’s usual wit or confident words, however, and softly moved next to the Warg, placing a hand gently on her tanned shoulder.  “Tana, what’s wrong?  Is it the dance?  Because I didn’t suggest we go together this time because I didn’t want Suzy to be uncomfortable, since you and I are so close and you and Monroe are—“

Santana’s gaze shifted over to her friend’s clear and yet worried blue gaze.  “What?  No Britt; that’s not it.  Me and Carino are okay going solo if you want some time with the Siren Suit.  I’m just being a stick in the mud for a second.  Don’t worry.”

“Oh,” her friend replied, nodding her head as she processed the information before looking back up in confusion.  “Why?”

The Latina didn’t like bogging down her friend with her worries; she liked admitting to any weaknesses any less.  But her thoughts were in the blonde’s head now, even if she didn’t know what they were, and so Santana felt obligated to tell the girl something.  “I guess I’m just sad that after graduation we won’t see each other as much, that’s all.  I mean, I’ll be moving into the apartments and you’ll be training to be a Suit…”

“But you could be an Agent too,” Brittany replied enthusiastically, offering a supportive smile to her friend.  “Remember? They think you’re special too, Tana—they just want to see if a little more training can make your magic as st5rong as you are already without them.”  The siren watched the girl expectantly as she reminded her, and Santana thought about her Sergeant’s most recent assessment when they’d been discussing her options.  Apparently pulling yourself and a Fed into a coma wasn’t a disqualifying act when it came to who could and couldn’t keep training, although they had definitely wanted to keep a closer eye on her efforts to develop her jumping, “I bet you’ll be the best witch ever before I even finish training; and then we can do the beginner level together—together forever, just like always, right?”

Santana nodded, but her expression remained hesitant.  Of course she wanted to be an all-powerful Witch Bitch, and get the hell out of this stupid town—maybe even travel the world.  And doing it as a Suit?  Well…maybe that could be okay; if Britt was going to be there too.  It wasn’t like she was going to get a lot of chances to walk around Croatia with her current wingspan happening.  But if she left, she’d be leaving Gilbert, and Furshine (whether she wanted to admit she missed their friendship and wanted it back or not), and…well, everyone.  She didn’t want to think about the fact that…some people probably couldn’t leave this kind of place—that it may never be safe for them because of fucking Rebels that were still looking for them after years ��to permanently shut them up.  And if she joined the League of Badges, she’d go a long time between seeing…people.  People that she loved--that loved her.  Those kind of feelings didn’t just pop up around every street corner; was she really in the right to just walk away from them?  Even when faced with the decision of leaving with Brittany, Santana just didn’t know.

“Tana?” Brittany’s voice broke through her train of thoughts, and the witch’s dark eyes shifted to her friend.  “I’m sorry if I messed things up.”

“What?  Oh, Brittany, no,” the Latina was quick to reassure the girl, turning their hug around so that Santana’s arms now pulled the light-skinned girl into her.  “I don’t like change, but I’m not going to let you stop living just because shit throws me a little.  I’ll be fine.”

The sea creature watched her carefully for another moment.  “You know, I’m glad you found Monroe,” the blonde told her, causing the witch to quirk an eyebrow at the turn the conversation seemed to have taken.  “He really likes you, and if you decide…well, whatever you decide you want to do, I know that someone will be looking after you. Even if it’s not me.”

The Latina’s mouth dropped slightly in surprise, and Brittany smiled as her hand lifted slightly to comb back a stray strand of hair from the girl in front of her.  “Now let’s go to a dance and make everyone jealous of our dates,” she said with a mischievous smirk, grabbing her wrap before exiting the room and a moment later the dorm.

Santana’s scoff and subsequent smile was much more genuine this time, and she quickly followed after her friend.

[satans-famiiliar]

“I think you’ll be okay so long as we don’t get together to discuss how to handle you,” she chuckled smugly in response, giving a nod and a shrug in regard to the description of the Fabray’s antics.   The witch smile turned mischievous as she allowed her fingers to dance along the taught skin before her. “I don’t know…maybe the best way to weed out the new stock would be to see how they handle the manager strutting his stuff—walk through the lines with a hands-off policy, make sure they can handle the... pressures.  And really, shouldn’t we have the most experienced dancer giving some sort of ‘how to give a lapdance’ lesson featuring do’s and don’t  with the most…invested person in the establishment?  For instructional purposes?”  The girl’s dark eyes glinted as the words turned husky as she continued her suggestion for their future, as well as the idea of getting a repeat of the Latina’s birthday present causing a little more heat to spread along her skin.  She shrugged.  “Well, I did trust her with those pictures of me for your Christmas gift, and I’m pretty certain you thought those came out okay,” she reminded the older boy, arching an eyebrow as she brought up the racy sweater pics Monroe still had in his room.  “She’s got more skill than I do, I admit, when it comes to things like where the light hits.  I’d rather be there to emphasize what I know are my subject’s best assets,” Santana breathed him in deeply as the geopath’s body next to hers caused a jolt of desire at the thought of all those best assets in action.  “Trust me, I wouldn’t miss any sort of opportunity to get my hands dirty for this project.”  She dragged one hand up and around his neck, toying with the dark hairs on the nape as she gave him a suggestive look.

Her boyfriend snapped at her in irritation, which actually caused the girl’s insides to relax a bit. He didn’t think she was weak; wasn’t guilted into pitying her situation like Darling.  And when Monroe continued his argument, she felt what little resistance she had crumble as her chest welled at the idea of him questioning his purpose but to basically want to support her.  Because he was her boyfriend.  The Warg’s own returning smile was a bit watery as the blue-eyed boy finished explaining himself, but it was undeniable at this point.  “Well, I guess that still puts you ahead of me,” she comforted him, hand sliding up to her face to overlap his as it brushed her cheek.  The winged teen breathed deeply, glancing up at him after a pause and then giving a light laugh.  “Okay, Carino,” she shrugged, “I guess I can’t stop a kamizake mission.” Whatever interpretation her words would garner, however, were likely completely thrown out the window by her arms suddenly locking tightly around her boyfriend in relief as her face lit up happily against his chest,  Santana bit her lip as her heart threatened to explode out of her chest, finally moving to lean up and kiss his cheek before leaning further toward his ear.  “Thank you,” she whispered, before pulling back and catching his lips happily, Ronnie’s stupid contract catching in the wind as Santana released it from her hand.

para|| Little Talks: Monroe/Santana, 5/07/2015

[satans-famiiliar]

f2f|| Fuck Off: Monroe/Santana, 5/14/2015

monroe-jameson:

[Monroe can't help but let out the few noises that rise up out of his throat as she strokes him and teases. It was always their little game to tease the other until someone caved but really neither of them wanted to wait through the torture. He smirked slightly as her words cut off about her rules and her wings shifted as his fingers found the swollen nub of sensitive flesh. He groans into her lips as he nips at them, hips rolling up into her hand as she strokes down his shaft.] Rules are... there are no rules... [He husks into her jaw as he nips down along her throat, fingers toying with her and running along her full length every now and then between rubs. His other hand moves to the base of her wing, stroking down along the leathery projection to really drive her nuts.]

*Her breathing continues to hitch as his hands show their knowledge of her sensitive points, her wings stretching in response to the fingers teasing them and her core pulsing as her body heating up with his efforts.  The witch presses herself harder into her boyfriend, kissing him passionately* Rules...are made...to be broken... *she counters huskily for the sake of argument, panting as she pulls both hands up under his shirt to push it over his head, digging her fingers into his shoulders as he assaults her neck.  She pushes her mostly-naked body into him, grinding against the hand demonstrating its knowledge of her pleasure zones while tipping her head backward to give him better access to her pulse point.*  Also, *she murmurs with a half-whine as her leather bucks at his stimulation,* I think one of us is seriously overdressed…  *She pushes harder against his lower hand, trying to pass on the friction she’s feeling to him without releasing the grip her nails are digging into his back to keep him close.*

[satans-famiiliar]

f2f|| Fuck Off: Monroe/Santana, 5/14/2015

monroe-jameson:

[Unamused by the clothing still separating him from tanned flesh, he makes the move to slide his hands from their various locations to her shirt pulling it up over her head to toss it aside somewhere in the room. He leans up to kiss at her chest and the tops of her breasts as his fingers easily pinch the clasp on her bra to release the breasts beneath. His fingers slipping pushing the fabric aside to ghost over her nipples and palm at the mounds. He lets out a moan at what she's doing to his lower half, already impressively hard from what she's doing, and he can tell how aroused she is as well with how her wings flap and jut out at certain touches he presses to her skin.]  Well... to correct you... there's only one player, you.  [He looks up into her eyes with a small smirk. He has to close his eyes and let out a breathy moan at how good the smallest bit of friction to the tip of his cock feels. He smirks slightly at her words, opening his eyes,]  I'm always up for a fair fight... Perhaps you think I'm cheating but then I'd have to say that you're cheating as well... and wouldn't that just even the score in this little twisted game? [He moves his hand down her stomach as the other continues to pinch and twist at a nipple to move to where their bodies meet, fingers pressing up against her clit.] Don't we both get what we want in the end...? [He whispers with a small smirk.]    

*She can feel the air pricking at her bare skin as he slips off her shirt and bra, and takes advantage of his hand pulling away from her ass in order to push one of her pant legs down to her knee, bringing her toe up to kick it down her ankle.  In the meantime, she's got his hands taking full advantage of her exposed upper half, and a shiver runs down her spine from the barely-there touch of his hands before he presses further into her skin.*  Holy fuck... *she murmurs, leaning into him to catch his lips at the same time he lets out his own pleasurable moan.  She slides her hand around to his ass in order to tug the pants over and down, giving him a little more room; and then dips into his boxer briefs from the backside to stroke his balls from behind.*  Player's still got a game, *she reminds him using her other hand to flick at her nub while pulling his cock along the nerves.  She let out a staggered breath as she fought the urge to just put him in her now, wanting to hold out a little longer although she was almost certain she wouldn't win since she so rarely did in straight shots like these. She shakes her head with a smirk to match his.*  Uh-uh-- my game, my rules-- *she inhaled sharply as his fingers replaced hers, her wings fully flexed as she felt herself completely wet for him as he continued playing her like an instrument.  She forces the air out of her lungs, to breathe again, but it's incredibly unlikely that, even as she continues to stroke his shaft, he won't be able to tell by her grip that she's losing any resistance she was pretending to have.*

[satans-famiiliar]

f2f|| Fuck Off: Monroe/Santana, 5/14/2015

monroe-jameson:

[Lets her move his hand long her body, fingers digging into the flesh they were placed on and cupping the mount beneath her shirt.] I like this hint... [He says with a small smirk, massaging her breast as his other hand moves to slip under the now loosened material of her pants to grope her ass a bit, kneading supple flesh in his hand. He can't help the groan as she grips his shaft, always knowing every little move to get him to cave and make a noise. He pushes his hips into her hand a bit, wanting more of her touch to connect with his cock. He bites his lip at how hot the view from where he's at is, her hand concealed under her clothing but he knows the layout all too well of what she's doing. He exhales slightly as she cups him, glancing up to her face as she speaks,] Sometimes... you're ready to give them everything you have so what they think they take, you've already given.

*It's definitely a little cramped with both of their hands and the damn pants making it impossible to spread her legs any further, but it's also a hell of a sensation with him groping her chest and grinding his hard-on into her as the sounds escaping him compound her own urges. Her hand grips and twists, adding a bit of friction as she pulls up along his length, thumb pulling over the head to collect the precum accumulating from her tease as she slips a finger between her folds to lubricate herself in the meantime.  She lets out a breathy moan and watches him with a smile.*  Really? *she asks.*  So the game's all an illusion then?  Just a way to draw in the players for your own amusement?  *She pulls him a little further in order to help his cock peak out from his boxer briefs and open fly, stretching her own panties down in order to move up against his and push his head against her clit in slow, delicious torture.*  Not nice, *she whispers.*  And you know what they say: cheaters never prosper... 

[satans-famiiliar]

f2f|| Fuck Off: Monroe/Santana, 5/14/2015

monroe-jameson:

[Groans slightly as her body brushes up against his. Seriously, she just knew every little thing to get him going, and she knew it too by now with how many times they'd done this. But despite all of this, they still knew how to make the other completely interested in what was going on. He leans his head back into her bed, biting his lip to stop any further noises from leaving his lips despite how good her lips felt against his neck and collarbone. His hips fight to not press up into her as she opens up the fly to his pants.] I don't really agree to things I cannot properly say nor know the meaning of... but I trust you so... I suppose... [He was just being a bit of a shit about it, teasing her as she teases him.]

*A soft chuckle escapes her, even as her own wings are extended half-way by now and giving away her own desire.  He'd been right: the idea of living right down the hall had a lot of appeal, the biggest being the idea that he was this close all the time.  She released her grip on his face, ghosting along his shirt and down his arm until she makes it to his hand, her fingers overlapping his without quite entwining. She smirks mischievously as she guides them across their bodies and over to her own torso, sliding his palm along her skin and over her bra so that it rested on her breast.*  I'll give you a hint, Tesoro, *she whispers, squeezing his hand to increase the pressure on the mound beneath it. Meanwhile, she'd slipped her other hand out from his pants to loosen her own, wriggling the fabric down to barely expose herself.  Undulating her body slightly to make certain his hand was still firmly on her, she released it and slid the now unoccupied hand back beneath his clothes, her fingers dancing along his cock as she moved her other hand beneath her own apparel to press into her clit, feeling a flush throughout her body as she shifts closer into him.*  Are you sure that's wise, Carino? *she whispers, inhaling deeply as her fingers rub up against her nerves.*  Sometimes you trust people and they'll take you for everything you have... *She makes her way to his base, cupping him pointedly.*