satanhoepez-blog

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See how I'm doin' in college! Follow me here.

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You're becoming soft ha.

You're just mad that you don't get hugs, Lando.

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Text: No, it's cool. I just.. I don't even know. I'll see you later.

text - Okay, Sammy. I love you.

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Text: Can we just not talk about it now?

text - Oh.. yeah, sure. Are you sure you're okay? I can come home from the beach if you want to talk?

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Text: Can I sleep in your room tonight?

text - Of course you can. Why, what's up? Did you and Em have a fight about who's more awesome again?

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Here.. There.. Everywhere.

You're such a tool.

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Ew. Put your legs away.

I will do no such thing. Where have you been this entire trip? I feel like I haven't seen you at all.

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I want TMIs, FMKs, Would you rather, all of it.

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Hearing loud, angry voices behind them as they ran, Santana turned her head to see if anyone was following them and sure enough, they really were. Her heart began to beat faster than it already was, scared that they'd get caught and blamed even though it wasn't their fault. When they finally couldn't hear anyone anymore, and they'd been running for God knows how long, they stopped. Breathing heavily and trying to cool off, Santana shook her head and let out a loud laugh. She still couldn't believe that this had happened to them when really all they wanted was some damn food. Smiling when he pulled her close, she wrapped her arms around him, laughing at his statement. Santana pulled away from Hunter, and fixed his tie before looking up at him. "Yes, definitely keep the suit. You look damn sexy in it," she said with a smirk before standing up on her tip toes and placing a long kiss on his lips.

After stepping back into her heels, she looked around, trying to figure out where they actually were. Letting out a long sigh as she tried to make out some place that she knew. "Too be quite fucking honest, I have no idea. But I do know that right there," she began, pointing to the small building down the road, "is a taco place. And I am about to wither away to nothing I'm so hungry." Santana didn't really care where they were, she was with Hunter, so it didn't really matter. Kissing him again, now that she was the same height, she took his hand in hers and led him towards the small restaurant.

Date Night | Huntana

They were done for. Hunter knew it and he could practically feel the realisation sink into Santana until she knew it too. The paparazzi were angry, the fans were angry, the clipboard lady was definitely angry. And he figured, somewhere far far away and probably drunk off her face, Yolanda was angry. And so, in the true nature of being honest and fair human beings, they got their asses out of there faster than they ever had before. Keeping his hand firmly interlinked with hers, they raced down the street, Hunter pulling her suddenly off ino the smaller side streets incase anyone was following them. He had heard a rather menacing ‘HEY WAIT’ as they had bolted and he had had a feeling it wasn’t going to be a very happy guy on the other end of it.

After 15 minutes of running and until they really couldn’t anymore, they stopped on some random street, both hunching over to catch their breath and Hunter finally taking off the ridiculous tie. ‘Well,’ he started, still trying to gulp down breaths of air. ‘I would’ve preferred the fucking steak to be honest.’ He looked over to Santana and couldn’t help the large grin from spreading acoss his face. ‘Fucking hell, babe.’ Straightening up, he walked over to her, taking his both hands to cup the back of her head and pull it forward, placing a kiss on her dampened forehead. ‘I’m keeping the suit,’ he said against her skin, his breathing starting to get back to normal. ‘I feel like a spy. And I like it, as much as it fucking sucks to admit.’

It was only then that it dawned on him that they had no idea where they were. They had aimed for the hotel but had missed it by a mile. ‘Wait, where the fuck are we?’

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"I am so hungry I'm probably going to be drunk in like three sips. I haven't eaten anything all day," Santana commented, receiving the large champagne bottle from him and taking a long swig. She shook her head, trying to wrap it around what the hell was happening, the entire thing still not really hitting her. "Fuck if I know what we're going to do. I guess just go through with it? Try and be Yolanda and Julio?" A burst of laughter escaped her lips as she tried to finish the sentence. Yolanda and Julio? How the hell could they be mistaken for these people? Taking another long sip from the bottle, she nearly spilled it on herself as the limo came to a stop. Her eyes as wide as saucers when the realization of what kind of people they were trying to portray hit her. "Let's do this, Julio," the Latina said before kissing hunter quickly, squeezing his thigh gently. Stepping out of the limo, Santana couldn't see anything due to the flashes of the many cameras in front of them. She tried to give her best smile and and posing with her tattooed boyfriend for the cameras. She couldn't lie, the feeling of everyone screaming for her - well, Yolanda - and taking pictures and all of the attention on them was exactly what Santana wanted. This feeling. Everyone loving her and her talent, and the Latina was revelling in it. When the flashes finally stopped, the feeling didn't go away for her and she contined to wave at the fans and cameras. She didn't realize that the people watching them were finally figuring out that they weren't Yolanda and Julio. She was only taken out of her trance when she heard Hunter swear. Then her face fell. "Oh my god," she said quietly to Hunter, not sure what they should do. Thinking on her feet, literally, she bent down, pulling Hunter with her. Keeping her voice low, she began to give him the plan. "I'm going to take my heels off and we're going to run as fast as we fucking can back into the direction of the hotel." She made eye contact with him, making sure that he knew the deal as she took off her heels and grabbed his hand, darting off in the complete opposite direction of the angry screaming fans.

Date Night | Huntana

Hunter had never had as many men touch right next to and over his crotch, than he had when being fitted for the right size tux for this event. No sooner had he started to tuck into the piles of food that were apparently poison to most of the people in that room, had he been pulled into the second room of the suite and stripped down to just his underwear. He felt violated and continued to do so all the way to the entrance of the place, fiddling irritatedly with his tie as he waited for Santana. His gameface returned however just seconds later as she appeared and they were both presented with an extremely flash limo, them being ushered into it as rushed and flustered as every other thing that had happened to them that night. No wonder they hadn’t realised it wasn’t these two mystery celebrities they were preparing for this award show, none of the team had even stopped to take a look at their faces properly.

Luckily, as the limo took off down the street, they realised they were completely alone. ‘What the fucking fuck?’ Hunter breathed out, relieved that he was actually allowed to speak again normally. ‘I have no fucking clue. But wait.’ He looked aroung them, mind set on something and not letting the conversation continue until he found that thing. ‘Aha!’ he exclaimed after a couple moments of searching, producing a fresh bottle of champagne from the mini fridge that was disguised within interior fabric. ‘Like hell do we know where we’re going but at least we can be drunk whilst doing it.’ He popped the cork sloppily and took a swig, handing her the bottle just after. ‘So what’s the plan, babe? I mean, this shit has gotta end soon. The fuck do I look like a Julio?’ However, no sooner had they set off for this awards thing, were they pulling back up to the pavement, the relatively still silence of outside suddenly amped up to full volume, screaming fans of whoever was going to be at this thing being ever present. ‘Fuck,’ Hunter mumbled in response, turning to Santana looking absolutely helpless. ‘Well… I guess… See you on the other side?’ He shrugged sheepishly before finally accepting their fate and opening the door. ‘Here we go.’

The flashes of cameras was blinding and the roaring of the crowds seemed to take over all of Hunter’s senses as he followed Santana out into the extremly warm Tuesday evening. All eyes were on them. Excited eyes, full of hope that they’ll get the best picture of the night, the camera lenses as long as a man’s arm and the photographers packed together as tight as sardines. It was electric. But not for long. As the two were fully revealed, excited became confused and the screaming and cheering started to wane as people caught a glimpse of the imposters. ‘Fuck,’ Hunter repeated under his breath.