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imma-lil-teapot · 4 years

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TMNT 2003/2K3 Headcanon: Crying - (Raphael)

Feel free to scroll past this first part if you’re not interested in my silly rambling and nonsense. I won’t mind. Promise. ;)

Alrighty then, lockdown has officially started here. :/ *Unenthusiastic streamers fly* Oh well, look what we have all the time in the world for: WRITING! *Enthusiastic streamers fly* Not too much extra to add in this regard since the last headcanon (thanks a bunch for the likes btw, guys :D ), so I guess we’ll just get right into it. :)

Please bear in mind that I’m SUPER rusty! Haven’t written in ages so there are bound to be typos and all matter of general errors scattered throughout the post. Don’t pet them! They bite!

Anyhoo~ Despite attempting to create and share with the goal in mind to uplift spirits, I decided to start on a rather upsetting subject (PLEASE DON’T LEAVE! They end on happy notes ;) ) because, Imma just come and say it, I enjoy seeing my favourite characters shed tears (not for just any old reason -their personality plays a huge role in this- and CERTAINLY not for sadistic reasons, land sakes no! But… well, you’ll see~ ;) ) It makes me all gooey and fuzzy inside to see them display such raw emotion and I just wanna leap into the TV screen to hug and console them. I dunno why. Maybe I’m nuts like that. (Remembers Raph crying at the farm when Leo was badly injured and wishes she could just hug them all and take away the pain) Oh well, if you enjoy visualizing the same, then *High Fives*. :)

So yeah, if you read the title, you’ll know this is based on the 2003/2k3 series (my favs). Hope you all enjoy~ :D Grab tissues cause sad turts ahead! :’(

Jibber jabber stops here~

TURTLES~

LEONARDO

RAPHAEL - You are here

DONATELLO - Coming soon

MICHELANGELO - Coming soon

WARNING(S): Because of the subject, Angst and Hurt/Comfort will be present.

RATING: G (General)

WORD COUNT: Uhhh... *Shrugs shoulders*

ANYTHING ELSE TO ADD:

Well, you’re just gonna have to scroll down to find him, Master Splinter. ;) I really didn’t know what to add so... *Shrugs* And look at da squishy Turtle Tots, dey so cuuuuute!!! <3

TO THE HEADCANONS~~~~

~RAPHAEL~

– With his infamous hotheadedness and quick capacity for battle, it’s of course natural at first for one to expect Big Bad Raphie-Boy to be completely opposed to the very thought of crying. He is the resident ‘tough guy’ after all.

– However, this notion couldn’t be farther from the truth: sure, he can be brash, quick to temper and lash out at those that give him enough incentive to, but underneath that rockhard exterior beats the heart of a real softie, and when something truly upsets that tender muscle, you can bet Mr. Hothead’s not going to try too hard to keep the tears at bay.

– He’s as passionate as he is headstrong, and reining in such powerful emotions proves to be difficult at most times for him, so out of the four of them, and given the right circumstances, Raph can be surprisingly easy to get the tears flowing.

-- He’s no crybaby by a long shot, mind you, but he also knows that holding back on the waterworks is pointless and makes one just feel worse in the long run. If you’re going to cry, just cry. Simple as that.

-- Like all of his brothers, Red can’t handle the thought of losing any of his family and close friends. It tears him apart inside and he’ll desperately attempt to protect and prevent anything terrible from happening to them, but when it does, he’s an emotional wreck and doesn’t always know how to handle his distress.

– His initial reaction is to be by their sides before becoming outraged, and depending on the different situations, it’s not uncommon for him to also nag and pass remarks at the injured brother(s). It’s the only real way of expressing his fear of losing them before dampness starts forming in his eyes.

– Despite his tough guy front, he’s not against crying in front of his family and friends at all. He knows his place and doubts a few tears will have them seeing him in a different light, particularly his father/master and brothers for they’ve seen the worst in him on many occasions.

– It’s only when a particularly harsh meltdown wishes to happen does Raph choose to spare them the sideshow; he knows it’s not a pretty sight, so before the sniffling begins, he leaves the Lair and heads topside for some much needed air.

– He chooses the nearby rooftops as his destination; the ideal location to let go of the ever building waves of raw emotion that continue to grip at his chest, and by the time he makes it up the fire escape ladder, he spares little time letting out a rough growl in frustration, kicking an air vent a couple of times for good measure.

-- With some rage and frustration now out of his system, he heads on over to the brick wall and turns his back to it, roughly sliding down into a sitting position and exhales a dismal sigh. As he subconsciously replays the earlier events through his mind, he finally allows the next phase of his sorrow to surface unbridled.

-- He dolefully holds his head in one hand and balances it on a single knee pad as the tears now begin to flow freely.

– They instantly soak into his mask, and he grits his teeth as he feels the surges of emotion wrack his entire body. He doesn’t characteristically whimper or sob when crying, but he coughs a lot, and his nostrils leak like a faucet, forcing him to frequently sniff and snort just in order to breathe. This is the very reason why he refuses to really break down in front of the the others; not because of his tenacity, but because he simply finds the whole affair gross. His family certainly didn’t need to hear him constantly hacking up a lung and sounding like an untuned trumpet every time he blew his nose.

– The episode doesn’t last too long, though, much to his delight, and after some more thorough nasal clearing, Raph then wipes at his still somewhat wet eyes and mask before drawing out another -now exhausted- sigh.

-- He’d begin gradually twirling a single sai around whilst he collected his thoughts. It felt more natural to keep his hands busy than have them being static when he was feeling this way. As his demeanor altered, so did the actions he performed with it.

– He wouldn’t return to his family just yet for there was still some brooding left to be done... At least that was what he’d convinced himself he was doing. He wanted a clear head when he returned so for now, he’d remain in place on the rooftop in the crisp air with the city bursting with life just below him.

-- He had to admit, it was certainly the best place for him to be with his thoughts. Comforting in fact. A true New Yorker at heart.

BONUS EXTRA~

– Aside from having everyone special to him perish, one of Raph’s greatest fears is his inability to fully control his own temper. On more than one occasion has it gotten out of hand and thus resulted in him injuring his own brothers, and it had shaken him to the core each time.

– He’s come to the realization that he is his own worst enemy when it comes to reigning in his own inner rage, and it uneases him immensely that it could happen again and he’s fully aware that the probability is higher than he cares to admit. The more he concerns himself with it, the more it upsets him and thus, the tears of frustration start.

– Fortunately, his bros are there for him and can tell when he’s feeling low about it. They know the best course of action is to have a light-hearted conversation about it with him and offer their reassurances... With Mikey of course adding his own two cents on the matter in his unique Mikey style, which usually involves poking fun at his brother in red and causing Raph to go from broody to enraged in record breaking time. Just how it should be.

– Not only is Raph A-okay with crying himself, but he’s often first on the emotional support committee to offer the shoulder of comfort to his friends, amazingly enough, and he’s actually pretty decent at it too. Though, not for absolutely everyone; he has his limitations when he knows someone’s really just blubbering for attention.

– He wasn’t always so accepting of shedding tears, though: as a very young Turtle Tot, he often thought of it as being too ‘babyish’ for him to do and thus despised it whenever something happened to cause him to tear up.

– It took Master Splinter a rather surprisingly lengthy amount of time to change his perception of crying. No amount of explanations on how it was a perfectly natural expression of emotion would sway his son.

– It got so out of hand that Raph would be in utter denial about crying right in front of his father, even while the latter would be staring at his tear-stained face directly in front of him. “M‘not cryin’,” the little Turtle would sniff. “Cryin’s fah sissies.”

-- Splinter could only sigh and shake his head as he knelt down to embrace his son. When could he feel that Raphael would not fight the closeness, he’d give him the same lecture again, and Raph would finally succumb to his emotions and sob into his father’s robe whilst Splinter comfortingly rubbed his shell.

-- He could only guess that his words finally got through to his son for ever since that day, Raph’s entire attitude had altered for the better on the subject.

BONUS EXTRA EXTRA FEMALE READER OR S/O EDITION~ (Can also use an OC/FC insert if you wish, up to you)

From the moment you entered the Lair, you could clearly see something was up; Mikey was nursing an obvious wrist injury with a bag of frozen peas and hovering around Donny’s work area, complaining about the swelling to the purple-banded Turtle, who appeared to be paying little attention towards his ‘younger’ sibling as his back was turned.

"Hi, (Y/N).”

You visibly jumped at the voice behind you and briskly turned, only to meet Leonardo’s placid form, and he swiftly apologized for the start.

After the formal greeting, you gestured with a thumb in confusion at the former scene with an added, “Do I want to know?”

The leader’s facial features altered to a more serious aspect. “The end result of testing Raph’s patience,” he offered, which instantly had you more than a little concerned. Sure, Mikey could come off as being annoying, but to go so far as to physically harm him?

“Are you sure it’s not worse than ‘just a sprain’?” You overheard the injured brother asking Donny, whose focus remained on a contraption of sorts you couldn’t quite make out on his desk.

“Yes, Mikey, you’ll live,” he responded with just a hint of weariness. “But no swinging your nunchucks around for a coupla days,” which was met with a typical whine in response from his patient.

“It’s really not as bad as he makes it out to be,” Leo then added, turning your attention back towards him. Though you didn’t express it, you were grateful to hear the good news.

"Where is he now?”

“Topside most likely.” Of course. It didn’t surprise you in the least that Raph had chosen to head there and you quickly set a course for the surface. “Need an escort?” The leader in blue offered, to which you politely declined. You knew he needed no further explanation.

As you pushed back the manhole cover and made your way towards the nearest fire escape ladder, you were unable to put aside the various speculations as to why your special Turtle would hurt his own brother... Well, you would be kidding yourself to say you didn’t have at least one very plausible theory in mind, but as you neared the top of the ladder, the guesswork was instantly dropped and replaced with trepidation for you knew how Raph felt about injuring family.

To put it simply, you were going to be dealing with a very dejected Turtle, and true to form, as you peered over the top of the building, the iconic emerald green hide and red mask tails met your sight.

This was Raph’s favorite spot to gather his thoughts after all, so it was a no-brainer decision to begin the search there, and it was clear as day that it was exactly what he was doing for he made no effort to acknowledge your presence as he remained seated against the wall in a slouching position and gaze locked out front.

As expected, he appeared to be moping. “Hey, Raphie,” you greeted, clambering over the wall.

You were unable to tell if he had been aware you were nearby for he made no prior indication but instead merely replied with a gloomy, “’Sup, Kiddo?” No movement whatsoever.

It amused you whenever he chose to refer to you by that nickname, especially since you were both the same age, but as you ambled on over towards him, you were left anything but amused as your former notion was set in stone when you caught the telltale signs of wet stains under his eyes. “You okay?”

“Peachy.”

It wasn’t the first time you had witnessed ‘ol Red crying, but it didn’t prevent your heart from breaking all the same. Something about seeing the bullheaded bad boy in tears left you in a real state of dismay, so without invitation, you seated yourself next him, affectionately leaning against his side, but before the consoling could begin, you had to gently ask, “You wanna tell me what happened?”

“Ugh, it was so stupid! Mikey wouldn’t quit goin’ on n’ on about beatin’ me in the Battle Nexus tournament and kept rubbin’ it in our faces about becomin’ the champ,” he exclaimed with shockingly little provocation, sniffing loudly. “I jus’ got so sick’ve it this time, an’ it’s not like we neva duked it out before or nothin’ but... I went too far this time, (Y/N), ya know?”

He still refused to look at you as he began to wipe away some fresh tears that were forming in his eyes.

Your assumption had been correct all along; you acknowledged full well how Mikey’s triumphant achievement grated on Raph’s last nerve and how the orange-banded Turtle would seek out every opportunity to gloat about it in a bid to purposely provoke his ‘older’ brother. “Well, you know Mikey, Raph,” you said, not quite sympathizing with the actions he took, but rather offering some support. “He tries to get under your shell on purpose.”

"Yeah, I know, but... Dat’s no reason ta clobber the guy. Not like that, anyway” You noted how his voice gradually lowered grievously and you couldn’t stop yourself from placing your head on his shoulder.

“No, it isn’t, but...” you knew you were grasping at straws by this point, but still offered, “They say it’s not as bad as he makes it out to be.”

He sighed dolefully. “I lost control again, (Y/N),” and you could feel the vibrations beginning to surge through him. “No matta what I do, I jus’... I jus’ can’t...” He trailed off, wracked with emotions as he covered his face with one hand and allowed the tears to fall, a cough slipping here and there.

You heart bled for this boy, and more than anything right then, you longed to relieve him of the pain, so you did the only thing you could think of: be right there by his side, comforting him through the breakdown. “Oh, Raph. It’ll be okay,” you calmly whispered, slinking an arm around his carapace and shoulders, bringing him closer and lightly squeezing his bicep with your free hand. “It’ll be okay.”

He leaned into the much needed support and continued to allow his misery to flow forth. You didn’t mind in the least for it was exactly what he required in order to heal, and you would be there for him every step of the way.

AND THAT’S A WRAP!

ALL THE FEELS!! I EMBARRASS!!

WOOT, that’s Turt number two completed! Sorry it took a little longer than expected; I still feel rusty with sentence structure and all and am not entirely pleased with the outcome, but I did feel an improved ‘flow’ from the first so maybe things are slowly coming back to me? Or maybe it was the scenario; it felt more natural o write than Leo’s... Maybe cause Bloo Boi’s my fav Turt and I felt added pressure with his?

Oh well, Donny Boy’s next~

Thank you all so much for the read and hope you enjoyed~ :D

~Drag0n Mistr3ss’ Random Fandoms*

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queen-scribbles · 4 years

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I Would Never

Bry and Jonas took the “off-track” prompt @greyias sent me and ran away with it to the tune of 3.5k words. :D I apologize for nothing, I’ve missed these two. Set in my canon with Vica as Alliance Commander where Bry joined up somewhere during the KotXXs. (Vica, btw, is pronounced Vee-kah)

---

Vica looked frazzled.

It was an unusual enough sight it took a minute to register when Briyoni passed by a conference room and noted her sister inside. She didn’t know Jedi were allowed to look anything other then calm, serene, put-together, and on top of things at all times. (Which, she thought with a smirk, would’ve ruled Shan right out if the lack of a Force connection hadn’t done it.) It was enough of an oddity to make her backtrack a couple paces and lean against the doorway.

“Need help, Vic?” she asked with a grin as she crossed her arms.

Vica’s head came up, loose bits of hair dancing in front of her eyes, and she blinked as she shifted focus from her trio of datapads to Bry’s face. “No, it’s...” She wrinkled her nose and smoothed back the loose hair. “Thank you for offering, I do appreciate it, but’s nothing a little... creativity with assignments can’t fix.”

“You sure?” Bry arched a brow. “‘Cause not even worrying your boyfriend had turned traitor visibly broke that whole Jedi Serenity” --she waved a hand in a vague gesture-- “but this sure has.”

Vica rolled her eyes a little at Bry’s opening word choice but didn’t take the bait. “I’m sure. It’s-”

One of the datapads let out an angry squawk and she blanched when she looked at the screen.

“Oh, come on, really?” she groaned, sinking back into her chair.

Bry pushed off the wall and strode over. “What?”

“Two of the perimeter sensors went down,” Vica said with a sigh, nudging the datapad so Bry could see. “It’s probably just surge or something related to the security upgrade Theron and Lana talked me into doing, but on the off-chance it’s not...” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “And all the maintenance staff are working on the upgrades, and if it is dangerous-”

“I’ll take care of it,” Bry cut her off. “Haven’t had anything to do for awhile, and even if it’s nothing exciting, it’s a couple hours’ speeder ride. That part’ll be fun.”

Vica didn’t even protest, relief flickering in her eyes.”Take someone with you. Just in case.”

“Sure.” Bry grinned. “Maybe I’ll take your spy boy; make sure he knows what’ll happen if he even thinks about doing something that would hurt you again.”

“Briyoni, if there was any risk of that, I wouldn’t have married him,” Vica said tartly. “Anyway, you can’t take him; we have a meeting--”

“Sure ya do,” Bry teased, waggling her brows.

Vica shot her a withering look. “With Admiral Aygo and General Daeruun.” She toyed with another of the datapad and smiled mischievously. “Besides, wouldn’t you rather take your spy boy than mine?”

“Always, but he’s not he-” Bry narrowed her eyes. “What do you know that I don’t, Commander?”

Vica handed her the datapad. “The Republic delegation that arrived less than an hour ago.”

Bry’s heart leapt and she couldn’t keep from grinning when she found his name halfway down the list. “And he didn’t come find me? I’m hurt.”

“This is business, Briyoni,” Vica sighed.

“Stars, I know that,” Bry said with a laugh as she set down the datapad. “I’m teasin’, Vic. But I have always been a fan of mixing a little pleasure in there, so I’m gonna go find my husband, borrow a speeder bike, and we’ll take care of those sensors and be back in a few hours.”

“Be careful,” Vica called after her. “And try to bring the bike back relatively undamaged?”

“Do my best,” Bry returned in a sing-song and headed for the cantina.

---

Despite being, historically, the most likely place to find Jonas, there was neither hide nor hair of him in the cantina. More than a little surprised, Bry widened her search until she finally found him in the military hanger, perched at one end of a stack of smaller shipping crates and frowning at the datapad in his hands.

Bry sauntered up behind him and leaned against one of the crates so she could look over his shoulder. “Fancy meeting you here.”

Jonas only slightly flinched as his gaze shot up from the datapad. He was grinning even before they made eye contact. “Hey, gorgeous.”

“Hey, yourself, handsome.” She smirked. “I’m trying to decide how offended I am that I rank below datawork.”

“You’ve got that backwards, Bry,” Jonas countered, still grinning. “I’m getting the boring stuff out of the way first, so it’s not an interruption later. ‘Sides, you know how bureaucrats are about their datawork.”

“Nice save,” Bry chuckled, leaning over to give him an upside-down kiss. “If you want something other than datawork to do...” she waited til he arched a brow to continue. “...how does checking a couple perimeter sensors sound?”

Jonas wrinkled his nose. “’Bout as boring as th-”

“With me,” she elaborated, and couldn’t help snickering when his eyes lit up as he pushed to his feet.

“Well, that changes things,” he said, winking and leaning in for another kiss.

“Thought it might,” Bry said with a laugh as her fingers dug into his hair at the back of his neck. “You able to leave now, or need a few more minutes?”

“Oh, I’m all set,” he said, remaining a mere inch or two from her after pulling back from the kiss. “I was just about done.” He reached done without looking and tapped a key. “There. I’m all yours, gorgeous.”

“Mm, just what I like to hear,” Bry said playfully. She kissed the tip of his nose before stepping back. “I’m flying.”

A smirk pulled at Jonas’ lips. “In that case, I’ll need to update my will before we leave...”

She crossed her arms and stuck out one hip as she arched a brow. “You callin’ me a bad pilot, Jo?”

“I would never,” he said, tone dripping with mock offense, and placed a hand to his chest. “It’s just that you have a vastly different opinion than the rest of the galaxy what qualifies as safe parameters for piloting a speeder bike.”

“Blame it on my swoop racing youth,” Bry snarked, grinning at him. “B’sides, I thought you liked that I’m fast.”

Jonas rolled his eyes but chuckled. “That only applies to some things, gorgeous. Others it just makes me worry.”

“You don’t need to,” Bry said with a shrug, still grinning. “I’m real good.” And real lucky, she added to herself.

His eyes went serious for a minute even if his tone was still teasing. “Y’know, one day that bravado’s gonna catch up to you, Bry.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “‘Til that day comes, though, I’m flying.” She winked at him. “Look at it as me giving you an excuse to hold on even tighter.”

Jonas snorted and draped an arm around her shoulders as they headed out of the hanger. “When have I ever needed an excuse for that?”

---

All snark and bravado aside, Jonas’ arms stayed wrapped tight around Bry’s middle the whole way to the first sensor. He squeezed even tighter every time she didn’t slow down enough for a turn, or goosed the throttle for sections with a clear line of sight. Were it not for the wind tearing past, Bry was pretty sure she’d have felt his heartbeat pounding against her back. She took pity on him somewhere past the halfway mark and dropped their speed to something closer to generally acceptable levels.

They still reached the first sensor in far less time than your average pilot. Her own heart pounding from the glorious adrenaline rush, Bry hopped off the speeder soon as Jonas loosened his grip on her waist.

She tried--unsuccessfully--to bury her smirk when it took a few seconds for him to follow.

“You better not be laughing at me,” Jonas grumbled, but she could hear the (reluctant) smile in his voice.

“I would never.” She didn’t even bother trying to sound hurt; he wouldn’t buy it.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” he snorted. “Just like Jo wasn’t going to turn into a casual nickname, and we were going to save that bottle of Corellian whiskey for something special-”

“Hey, that was special,” Bry cut him off, wheeling around with a grin.

“Not that bottle,” Jonas smirked. “That was absolutely pretty damn special. The replacement.”

“Oh.” She wrinkled her nose as she backed into the sensor. “You mean the one I broke?”

“Against the wall,” he elaborated for her. “Yes, that one.”

“Hey, I was righteously pissed on your behalf, handsome,” Bry shrugged, but couldn’t keep a sheepish edge out of her smile. “I can replace it; Vica’s gotta have somethin’ comparable floatin’ around that big fancy base of hers...”

“I’ll hold you to that, but one thing at a time, gorgeous,” Jonas said with a chuckle. “Don’t we have a job to do first?”

“Right.” Bry turned from the banter to start prying off the maintenance panel for the sensor array.

Just as Vica had guessed, a surge had overloaded the dampeners and fried a pair of power conduits. It was a relatively easy fix, and Bry plunked down on a rock to get to it.

“Anything serious?” Jonas asked, leaning against the waist high casing to watch her work.

“Nah.” Bry raked her hair out of her eyes and glanced up at him. “Just gotta replace a couple wires. It’s a simple enough repair I can handle it; nothing serious.”

And it was. Fifteen minutes later she was flicking the sensor’s power on and sliding the maintenance panel back into place. She accepted the hand up Jonas offered, deliberately didn’t compensate momentum for the help so she stumbled into his chest.

“Oops,” she said with a wink as his arms settled around her back.

He laughed and stole a kiss. “Subtlety's never been your strong suit, Bry.”

“Never seen a point,” Bry countered impishly.She patted her hand against his chest and reluctantly stepped back. “C’mon, we have another sensor to check.”

After a last check that the sensor was functioning properly, the two of them mounted the speeder bike again. Bry barely waited for Jonas’ arms to settle around her waist before she gunned it and sent them rocketing forward along the planned path to sensor number two.

Jonas’ grip stiffened and she laughed as she backed off the speed ever so slightly.

“Sorry, Jo,” she hollered, hoping he could ear her over the wind.

He squeezed briefly tighter before his grip slacked to be more bearable, which she hoped meant apology accepted.

At least the slower pace meant she could risk occasional glances at the nav holo hanging between the speeder’s control grips. Another smile tugged Bry’s lips, though not of the ‘messing with my husband’ variety this time. When.the canyon they were following split, she went left.

“Get your left and right mixed up?” Jonas asked over the thrum of the speeder’s engine and wind in their ears.

“No, this way’s-”

“A shortcut?” he interrupted drolly.

“More fun,” she corrected with a grin.

Ahead of them, the canyon widened and the open space was dotted with rock pillars that rose to dizzying heights. She knew the exact moment the terrain and her comment clicked together in Jonas’ head because he pressed himself even closer against her back before she started throttling back up.

While the speeder wasn’t as versatile as some she’d flown, it handled well enough as Bry set it zigzagging between the pillars. Just as they approached the end of the route, she spotted a side cut. Quick glance at the nav holo showed that while it lead to a snarled maze of narrow canyons, it could be followed to their destination. She turned down it without hesitation--Jonas didn’t even protest this time--and cut her speed enough to make repeated glances at the holomap less dangerous. It still took quick reflexes to pick out the route they needed and make the turns in time.

A quarter of the way in was when she stopped trying to keep track of them, just let her instincts carry them forward.

Halfway in was when everything but the speeder’s engine quit working. Comms, the map, everything.

Running off adrenaline, Bry followed her gut through the next couple turns until they reached a clearing that seemed a safe enough place to stop. They sat on the speeder, both silent for the moment, the only sound the idling engine echoing off the canyon walls.

“Don’t suppose you know the way out of here?” Jonas finally said glibly, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Bry braced her wrists against the control grips and leaned forward slightly. “Not off the top of my head, no.”

“And I suppose it’s too much to hope you remember the way back?”

“I thought memorizing that was your job,” she teased. “I was too focused on not running into things or going down a dead end.”

“Fair. Maybe we should have clarified responsibilities before you went veering down the fun route....” he teased right back, hands sliding off her waist.

Bry chuckled, turning to face him and leaning against the control grips. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

“Oh, you think there’ll be a next time, huh?” Jonas’ eyes were laughing as he tried to look annoyed. (He may have also been that, too, but it was hardly his primary mood, she could tell.)

“Sure there will,” she said coyly. “You never have been good at telling me no.” Her weight shifted just enough with the attempt to look smug and seductive she started to slide into the gap between the grips.

Jonas let out an actual laugh as he grabbed her arm. “You got me there,” he admitted. “You alright?”

“Only damage is to my dignity,” Bry said with a huff of sheepish laughter as she righted herself.

“And that was a lost cause anyway,” he needled with a grin.

She pushed him off the speeder.

And remembered too late that he was holding her arm. Fortunately it wasn’t far to the ground, and she landed on top of him, so that softened her landing, at least.

“Ow,” Jonas groaned, then smirked at her. “Least the view’s good.”

Bry half-heartedly slapped his arm as she rolled off to sit next to him, a seat she only kept for a few seconds before pushing to her feet so she could power down the speeder. No sense wasting fuel. She offered Jonas a hand up, which he took. She was more than a little surprised when he caught his balance once upright instead of letting himself run into her. She’d kind of been expecting payback. “Not going to try and knock me off my feet, Agent Balkar?”

“Colonel Nerai, I would never.” His eyes twinkled over the solemn tone and he kissed the tip of her nose. “Besides, one of us has to be the bigger person.”

Bry arched a brow. “Mmhm. Well, Mr. Bigger-Person, any guesses what happened?”

Jonas thought for a minute, running his thumb contemplatively along his lower lip. “Are we far enough from the base for it to cause problems?”

She shook her head. “Don’t think so, they have a hell of a long range.Besides, the holo’s a separate function; distance wouldn’t kill that.”

“Right...Something wrong with the speeder?”

Another shake of her head as she leaned against the side of the bike. “Would have knocked out the engine, too, wouldn’t it?”

“Not necessarily...” Jonas pointed out, leaning against the speeder next to her. “Not if it’s electronics, that wouldn’t affect the mechanical aspects.”

“Wouldn’t affect the comms, either,” Bry sighed, dragging the toe of her boot through the dirt.

He tipped his head in silent concession before lifting his gaze to scan the surrounding cliffs. “What about the canyon?”

“Can’t rule it out,” Bry said thoughtfully. “Not deep enough to be blocking signals, but depending on the rock composition, that could mess with things...”

“Well, in that case, wouldn’t we just need to backtrack out of radius for things to work again?”

She huffed a sigh through her nose and watched a makrin amble along nearby. “Yeah, except I made... at least three turns after things went down, and those I was definitely too focused on not running into things to remember which way I went.”

“So...” Jonas turned to look at her and arched a brow. “We’re lost.”

“Yep,” Bry confirmed, then flashed a cheesy grin. “At least we couldn’t ask for better company, right?”

He laughed. “And it’s a really good way to get some time alone together.”

“Durasteel clad,” she said cheerfully.

“So perfect no one will believe it wasn’t on purpose,” he pointed out.

“Eh, speeder logs’ll back us up,” Bry countered, sidling closer. “And we are going to work on finding our way out...” She pivoted from where their sides now pressed together so they were chest to chest, Jonas caught between her and the bike. “Eventually.”

“But why waste an opportunity that’s been dropped in our laps?” he supplied with a chuckle as his hands settled on her hips.

“Exactly,” she grinned. “Knew you were smart, s’why I married you.”

“And here I thought it was because I’m roguishly handsome and ridiculously charming,” he deadpanned as her fingers curled around the lapels of his jacket and he leaned closer.

“Those were also factors,” Bry murmured in concession, and tugged him the final inch or so into a kiss.

By the time they got around to finding their way out, neither would have considered this a wasted opportunity.

---

It took an hour or two of trial and error with all the turn-offs, and more than one dead end, but the comms and nav holo did eventually prove Bry’s theory correct and fizzle back to life.

Just in time for an intensely worried “...riyoni?!” to crackle into her ear.

Bry arched both brows at Jonas as she answered. “Yeah, Vic?”

“Oh, thank the Force,” Vica’s voice swirled through the comm in a rush. “I’ve been trying to check in for... half an hour. What happened?”

“We, uh, ran into some technical difficulties exploring an alternate route,” Bry said. “There’s a section of canyon down here, fuzzed out comms and the map.” Silence answered for a long enough stretch to make her frown. “Vica?”

“I think I know where you’re talking about,” her sister said flatly. “Are you out of there?”

“Yeah...”Her frown pulled deeper.

“Good. Don’t go back.” There was a faint tension in Vica’s tone, of the ‘pfassk I don’t want to talk about’ variety, so Bry didn’t press.

“Yes, ma’am, Commander, ma’am,” she said instead, glibly as possible.

The desired snort of almost-laughter came back. “Finish your job, Briyoni.”

“That’s the plan. Get back on track, fix the sensor, be on our way home. See you in an hour or so, Vic.”

“See you then,” Vica confirmed, and the comm went silent.

“Well, now we’ve got my sister worrying about us, so no more distractions or detours,” Bry said to Jonas, running her fingers through her hair to check for forest detritus.

“You must be heartbroken,” he deadpanned.

“Absolutely crushed I have to behave myself,” she confirmed, kicking the bike up to a more fun speed. At least until we’re back at base...

They reached the second sensor without incident, found the same issue as the first--though this one bore claw marks from curious or hungry wildlife--and had it fixed up easily.

“All done and headin’ home,” Bry reported over comms.

“Good to know, see you soon,” Vica replied. “Thank you for taking care of this.”

“Not a problem.” She signed off and looked at Jonas. “Think we’ll manage to steal some time once we’re back?”

“We can but try,” he returned with a chuckle, kissing her forehead.

With that incentive hanging in the air, Bry put on extra speed for the ride back. Jonas maintained a death grip on her waist the whole way, and she wasn’t sure if the smile tugging her lips was from that or the adrenaline rush of flying.

“i think you gave me bruises, Jo,” she needled playfully when they stopped and he finally let go of her.

“I’ll just have to kiss them better,” he retorted, kissing the back of her head.

“No bruises there, handsome,” Bry giggled as she dismounted the speeder.

He slipped off right behind her and leaned close to whisper in her ear. “Really? That’s surprising.”

She refused to give him the satisfaction of making her blush, but she did bite her lip. “Shouldn’t be; you know I’m tougher than that,” she whispered back with a wink.

Jonas chuckled and hung a couple paces behind her as she checked the speeder bike back in. When that was done, she turned to find him looking at her with a smirk pulling one corner of his mouth upward.

“What?” she laughed.

Jonas shook his head slightly and stepped closer. “Whatever my opinion of you preferred flying style, I do have to admit this is a good look for you.”

Bry snorted and raked her fingers through her tousled hair. “Windblown?”

“Happy,” he corrected with a laugh, and pulled her in for a kiss she savored probably longer than she should’ve.

“I need to tell Vic we’re back,” she murmured, reluctantly stepping away. “Meet you in the cantina when I”m done?”

Jonas nodded and lightly tapped her nose “Don’t dilly-dally, gorgeous.”

“With you waiting for me, Jo?” Bry grinned. “I would never.”

#queens fic #nonverbal prompts #briyoni nerai #jonas balkar #vica nerai #otp: better company #brykar #i'm real tempted to write vica's side of this... (mis)adventure #not in the least bc it would mean actually getting to write her and theron :3 #but YAY that was the last nonverbal prompt

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calteahood · 5 years

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A Good Time {Calum Hood}

Rating: M — Please be 18+ to read!

Requested: Yes! “limo sex btw y/n and calum and the condom breaks ?!”

Warnings: Smut! Includes unprotected sex & a lil bit of dirty talk.

Word Count: 2.8k

Author's Note: Here it is! I changed the ask a little bit, but it's basically limo sex with Cal. Definitely used Shawn Mendes's Lost in Japan performance from the VS fashion show in this, by the way. Possible angsty part 2 dealing with the fact that there was no condom used. Anyway, enjoy!

The event had been a blast. It's not every day you got to go to red carpets, seeing as your name had just gotten out there in the modeling industry. One lucky shoot for a famous magazine had spiked not only your Instagram following but also the amount of work you had been offered. Just a few months ago you were dreaming of being a big name in the industry, and now you're becoming one. Making a name for yourself meant event after event, even if you weren't on the catwalk that night. This night, in particular, you were there purely because it would be a good appearance, wearing a designer dress that your stylist perfectly picked out for you. The event, which was televised on networks at is MTV, consisted of a red carpet, two performances, and three different collections being worn down the catwalk. The fashion was amazing, but the musical intermissions had been even better. Shawn Mendes performed Lost In Japan, which was amazing. Then, later on, the stage was quickly set up for the band 5 Seconds of Summer. While you knew they had dropped a great album recently, you had never seen them live. You never really had a good look at the boys. The bassist caught your eye quick, being on your side of the stage. His muscles flexed as he played their hit song Youngblood, the tight button up fitting over his torso deliciously, showing off his arms. If it wasn't for your team sitting right next to you, forcing you to behave, you would have sent the man a wink when he looked over to you. Throughout the show, you sat with your manager on the right and your publicist on the left. Being a newer face also meant your every move was being watched. Your team was surrounding you all the time, making sure no bad paparazzi photos could appear, you never misspoke in interviews, and no scandals would arise. It was a blessing to have such a great team, and of course you were thankful, but having a group of people surrounding you constantly meant making it harder to sneak around. Being alone was a rarity unless it was in your own home and no paparazzi happened to be stalking us out of your house. Having such a strong team meant having a weak sex life. Staying out of trouble simply meant don't be caught by the paps either going home with a boy to hook up or leaving his house the next morning. You had been good about that, really, but the event showed you that it would be impossible to stay single forever, not with men looking that good playing bass right in front of you. You had no scandals and had been quite sweet throughout the quick boom of your modeling career. You were seen as kind, a natural beauty and a face for all women who don't have the average "model" body you'd see on Victoria's Secret ads, and you were proud that you had created such a good name for yourself. You were genuinely happy that you are making other people feel better about themselves, so what would be the issue if you finally started dating? Of course, you could understand one night stands might be scandalous, but you were craving another man's touch and, despite what your team said, being seen with a man was not going to ruin your image. Which is why at the after party you made a bit of a bold move. While your manager was looking away, speaking to one of their friends from the industry, you walked over to the bar on the other side of the room. Both the band and Shawn had the opportunity to bring plus one's along with them, so when you saw the handsome bassist without a plus one, just hanging out with the drummer while the others had their arms slung around their girlfriends, you knew you had to pounce. The drummer noticed you first as he walked up to the group, but he could easily tell your eyes were glued to the Maori man sat beside him. You walked up, faking confidence as the group made you a bit nervous, but you couldn't let them know. Confidence is sexy, and if you could fake it till you make it then maybe you wouldn't go home alone tonight. "Hey," you greeted loud enough to be heard over the music. You saw the handsome man's eyes quickly look you up and down, eyeing the tight cocktail dress you put on for the after party specifically. Hook. "You guys did great on your performance!" You turned your attention to the basis, seeing that your compliment had made him smile. Line. With your attention on the rockstar in front of you, you smoothly added on, "I especially loved the bass. You played so well tonight. Totally blew me away." At that, he smirked. Sinker. "Well thank you," he said. That damn smirk was going to be the end of you. The way his lips curved up, so inviting. He was attractive beyond belief. Keeping your attention on him, you spoke up again. "I was actually wondering if you wanted to dance." You hastily followed that with your name, hoping he'd tell you his in return. He looked you over once more. Of course he wanted to dance! He couldn't take his eyes off of you throughout the entire performance. After his first gaze at you, he quickly decided that you could be wearing the couture dress or just one of his t-shirts, and you'd still be the prettiest person in the room just like how he thought you were tonight. Standing from his seat at the bar, he held his hand out for you to gently set your own on to before bringing the back of your hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the back of your hand. "'M Calum. I'd like to dance." He brought you to the dance floor, which was filled with other models, men and women. He spun you around, pressing your back against his front. Your hands easily found their way into his hair, holding him close to you. While his own hands held onto your hips, his head ducked a bit so he could whisper to you. "What about me caught your eye, pretty girl?" Fuck. The way his lips brushed against your ear. If it wasn't completely inappropriate to take him right then and there you'd be on your knees in seconds. Turning your head to the side, your own lips so close to his, you said, "You looked amazing on stage, like you know how to have a good time." He chuckled, his hips swaying with yours. "I can show you one if you'd like?" The surge of confidence took over. A beautiful model, a woman so unique and powerful, wanted him? He had heard of you before, recently seeing your face on magazines and all over social media. He knew you're one hell of a woman, but he could also see right through your confidence tonight. He made you nervous. But then again, you made him nervous too, so you were both faking confidence for each other. Though, it seemed to be working considering how your ass was willing pushing against the forming bulge in his pants. "That is if you're interested." You smirked. This was it. And hey, if he showed you a good enough time you definitely wouldn't mind meeting up again for seconds. "I'd love that. Let's go." And with that, you grabbed his hand and hurried out of the dark room. Hopefully, everyone was too busy partying to notice. You took him around the back, to where all the limos were waiting. Calum kept his head down as you approached yours, knocking on the driver's window. When the window rolled down you gave a sweet smile to your driver. "Think you can get us out of here? I'm ready to go home." You gave her a look, basically begging to not ask why you were in a hurry or if you wanted to wait for your manager. "Get in, you guys. Tell me your address, I'll have you there as soon as I can," she said. You quickly told her where you live, and when she told you that it'd be about a forty-minute drive, you rushed to the back. The limo's partition was already up when you two slid in. It seemed as if the forty-minute drive wouldn't be too bad. Once comfortable, Calum turned towards you. "So," he started, "I'm guessing you don't get too many opportunities to get around and meet guys. Be honest, what made me special?" You grinned. You could read him a whole damn list if he wanted you to. Plus, looks aside, he seemed very interesting. What did his tattoos mean? Why did he have a little blonde streak in his hair? Why was he wearing such a fancy jacket to the after party? Every little thing about him made you curious. "You're very handsome, very talented, and if I'm being honest here, I couldn't keep my eyes off of you while you were on stage. Thank goodness you were on the side of the stage I was sitting at; I had the best seat in the house." You flirted a bit, teasing each other. His hand went to rest on your exposed thigh. "You're definitely right, I don't get to meet men often, but when they look as good as you I absolutely have to shoot my shot." With a smug look on his face, Calum asked, "And how many men have you approached who look as handsome as me?" His hand began to slide up, toying with the end of your dress. You giggled. "Would I get extra brownie points if I say that you're my first?" He gently squeezed your thigh before moving his free hand to lightly grip your chin. "Good answer, pretty girl." He pulled you to him, finally locking your lips together. If you thought this could ever be a one-time thing, you were wrong. His mouth on yours, biting your bottom lip and moving your tongues together felt way too good. You moved to straddle his lap, his hands moving to push up your tight dress. He pulled away from your mouth to travel down to your neck, leaving light, soft kisses. "If we're gonna do this we gotta make it quick. Only got a half hour before we're at yours." With your dress hiked up to your waist, he moved one of his hands to your panties, easily pushing the lacey fabric aside. You gasped when he grazed his finger over your clit. As he played with you, you pushed his sparkling jacket off his shoulders and undid the buttons of his shirt. You knew you weren't going to be able to get him naked in the limo, but at least his chest was exposed a bit. You moved down to undo his belt and pants, feeling over his hard-on. You couldn't wait to get him out of those pants. He slid his finger down to your entrance, thumb still rubbing your clit, and gently pushed in. You gasped, finally feeling something inside you. Calum turned your head to face him, leaning your foreheads together. He slowly worked his finger in and out of you. "Can't believe how wet you are for me," he mumbled against your lips, pushing in another finger. He started to speed up his movements, brushing that sweet spot inside you, making you moan out. The way you sounded moaning and whimpering his name only egged him on. Taking back a bit of control you finish undoing his pants, pulling them down a bit. You palmed him through his boxers before pulling those down too, allowing his cock to spring up. He was hard, pre-cum covering his tip, ready for you. You wrapped your hand around him, giving a few good pumps before you heard him hiss and grab your ass. He pulled out his fingers, bringing them between you two. You stuck out your tongue, giving his fingers a small lick, tasting yourself. He grinned at this and stuck the fingers in his mouth. He loved the way you tasted and couldn't wait to get back to your house where he could lay you down and eat you out for hours. During this, he pulled you closer to him, placing your cunt directly over his length. You pressed down a bit, feeling the head of his cock against your wet hole. "No more teasing, pretty girl." With that, he held your hips and pushed you down, sinking his cock into your tight pussy. You both moaned out, loving the feeling. Once you adjusted to the way his cock felt inside you, you pulled away the tiniest bit only to move back down again. His hands traveled to your ass, one hand squeezing while the other helped hold your panties to the side. You bounced a couple more times, groaning at the way he stretched you until you found your rhythm. You began to bounce at a pace that had both of you begging for more. The limo was filled with the sounds of your ass slapping against his thighs and the naughty, slippery sounds your pussy made each time you took his cock in. "Fuck Cal, I'm close," you whined out. At this, he attached his fingers to your clit, rubbing quickly to help you reach your orgasm. In no time he had you moaning. "Cal— fuck! I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!" You both were loud messes as you came all over his cock. You stopped bouncing, so he took it upon himself to thrust up, never giving you a break, chasing his orgasm. "Look so good cumming on my cock, fuck. Gonna take my load? Gonna let me cum in your tight little cunt?" He groaned against your lips. You eagerly nodded. Fuck, how you wanted everything he had to offer. You felt him speed up his thrusts, grabbing at you so tight that you knew you'd have bruises tomorrow. You could moan just thinking about it. Right before he was about to cum he pressed his lips against yours. You immediately opened your mouth, allowing your tongues to move against one another. With a couple rough thrusts, he stilled in you, releasing into your warm, wet pussy. You pulled away from each other, grabbing at the closest phone you could find to check the time. You were about five minutes from when your driver said you'd be home. Glancing back at him, you noticed his smile. He had the prettiest post orgasm face, heart eyes for days as he looked at you. You giggled. How could a man be so sexy and so cute at the same time? Carefully, you pulled off of him. Both of you hissed at the loss of contact. You sat down, pulled your panties off, and used that as your impromptu cum rag. It wasn't the best option, but it was the only one you had. After cleaning up Calum's cum that dripped onto your thighs, you cleaned his cock. You made sure to be gentle, knowing he was just as sensitive as you after a fucking like that. You each fixed your outfits, preparing for the drive to end. Once ready, you finally faced each other. Suddenly, you both broke out laughing. "Fuck, I can't believe we just did that!" Calum nodded, wrapping his arm around you. "It was amazing pretty girl. Took me so well. Did I live up to my word? Did I show you a good time?" he asked. You pretended to contemplate his question as the limo came to a stop outside your home. "I don't know… I think you'll need to show me more before I can make a final decision." Calum grinned. He saw through your little act, and there was no way in hell he would decline your offer of letting him fuck you more. You shook up his whole night, and now he didn't want to let go of you. "I think I can do that." He opened the door, getting out and reaching a hand out to you to pull you along with him. You thanked your driver before leading him to your door. As soon as you two made it inside you were pressed against the door, his lips on yours. You pushed him back, leading the way to your bedroom, in hopes he'd continue showing you all he had to offer. You were thankful you had such a great team, and a job that empowered you and other women as well. You were thankful for the car you drove, the house you had, and the life you got to live. But most of all, you were thankful for Calum, for that night, and for the best time of your life so far.

Send me an ask if you’d like to be added to my tag list! Tag list coming soon! xx

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azulwaves126 · 5 years

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This is my first attempt at a Destiel fanfic, since I finally had time to write. (coffeeshop au) Sorry if it sucks. It’s not done btw.

Dean grabbed the boiling kettle, it’s whistle sounding in unison with several others. The warmth of the steam fogged up his glasses, which were already making their way down his nose. Weaving around the other baristas who were frantically prepping drinks, he poured the coffee into a cup covered in candy cane designs. It was a month and a half till Christmas, and still, businesses decided to take advantage.

“What a bunch of greedy bitches.” he grumbled to himself as he slapped on a top for the cup.

“One black coffee to go for...Castiel?” he called out. What a strange name, but who was he to judge? He was just a barista.

He was already turning around to prep another drink as the man hurried up.

“Thank you.” came a small reply.

“Sure thing.” Dean answered, still not looking up from mixing a peppermint mocha.

The day went on just like that, filled with frantic customers who waited exasperatedly. With the regulars who chatted up a storm. With the rambunctious families who left a war zone behind.

But Dean loved the coffee shop. All throughout his rough childhood, the twinkling windows and kind-hearted workers were what kept him going. What kept him believing. When his father threw fits, and left Dean and his little brother alone for days on end, he would go to the shop and get a free coffee and warm blanket for him and his brother. When his brother, Sam, spiraled into addiction and ended up in rehab, the owner, Jody Mills, put in some of her own funds to his recuperation. The shop was his safe place, and he would be damned if he wasn't gonna make it that way for others.

Snow started falling early evening, just when his day ended. The white puffs looked like feathers as they floated onto the ground. It was dusk as Dean walked to his home, his breath sending puffs into the air and pine needles crunching under his feet. He shivered, and wrapped his jacket tighter around him. Tahoe was a great place to live, but the cold was a drag sometimes.

The prickly outlines of pine trees loomed over his street, the deathly quiet accentuating every rustle of their branches. His house, well, more of a cabin, was on the outer reaches of South Lake Tahoe, separated from the touristy areas. It was close to the mountains, and his neighborhood was usually calm, the amount of people encountered were sparse to none. That worked fine for Dean. It gave him the privacy he needed. But lately, it had been feeling very empty.

After letting himself in, Dean turned on the gas fireplace and threw his parka onto the couch. His cabin could probably fit 2 to 3 people, but that meant he had plenty of room. He got settled in the couch as the wind howled outside, and turned on the tv. As the voices droned on, and the storm blew outside, he drifted to sleep.

Dean was startled awake, and it took a moment for him to orient himself. The watery light of the winter sun filtered through his blinds, hitting him right in the eyes. Crap. He was late for work. Cursing and kicking himself for falling asleep on the couch, he jumped into his clothes from yesterday, grabbed some things he’d think he’d need, and rushed off to get to the shop on time.

“I freaking hate myself sometimes.” he muttered under his breath, practically fast walking to the shop.

As he approached the cafe, Dean had to admit it looked extremely inviting. The large glass windows looked in on plush chairs in front of fireplaces, filled with people enjoying their warm drinks. “Phoenix Cafe” was painted on one of the windows in gold calligraphy. But it seemed too good to be true. Was his life really working at a fluffy coffee shop on weekdays and going hiking on weekends? When his brother was in rehab, and his father dead? Shoving the thoughts down, he walked in, the heat from the fireplaces almost steaming the snow off of him in a surge of warmth.

Dean was greeted by warm smiles and the smell of cinnamon. Winter days were his favorite, especially on tough days. He made his way behind the cashier and put on one of the brown aprons hanging on the wall, rubbing his bleary eyes.

“ Hey deano, you’re 7 minutes late and sleep deprived! ”

“Thanks for letting me know Donna.” Dean answered dryly. He was in no mood for their usual banter today.

“You betcha, just don’t fall asleep on me okay?” Donna said as she handed him a cup of coffee. She was a lot more perceptive than she let on.

Dean gratefully took the cup and had a long swig. Wiping his mouth, he walked over to the register to begin his shift. Even at 7:30 in the morning, a line was already forming. He took care of several aloof lawyers and a very stressed looking mom dressed in work clothes and holding a little girl’s hand. “I’ll get you another one to go, for free.” Dean let her know.

“Really? Thank you so much!” the mom distractedly answered while reining in her adventurous toddler. Dean got her her payment and let Donna know to make the mother an extra cup.

“That was really sweet of you.” came a gravelly, and similar voice, from the counter. Dean turned back around to face a man in his mid thirties, about Dean’s age. His disheveled black hair framed a warm face lit up by two extremely blue eyes.

Quickly realizing he was being talked to, Dean replied, “I like doing it. Those small things usually make a big difference for others.”

“Hmm, wisely said.” the man smiled warmly and took his phone from a pocket in his tan trenchcoat, “I’ll have a black coffee please.”

Dean snapped his fingers. “That’s where you’re from. You were here yesterday, Castiel right?”

“Actually, yes. You remember me?”

Dean shrugged, “I like keeping track of my customers. Ya never know when they can become regulars.”

Castiel shot him a mischievous look that almost melted Dean on the spot. “I’ll take note of that.”

“Hey, what’s holding the line up!” yelled yet another smug man in a suit.

“Just a second!” answered Dean. He rung up Donna for a black coffee. “Anything else Castiel?” he queried.

“That’ll be all for me. See you around Dean.” added Castiel.

Dean moved to the next customer, watching as Castiel grabbed his coffee and strode into the snow outside, his trenchcoat fluttering behind him.

#destiel #fanfic #sorry in advance #destiel fanfic

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