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buriedincharcol · 5 years

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Red and Blue Lights

(Red Crackle Detective/Criminal AU

@jaythesaltybastard i blame you for this and you know exactly what you did)

Carmen Sandiego had wanted to be a detective for as long as she could remember.

Every day after school, she would fight her sister Amy for the remote and plop herself in front of her family's old TV. When she won the hard-earned battle, she would adjust the antennas just right so she could watch her favorite programs: true crime shows and buddy cop movies. The young girl was riveted by the thrilling chase scenes, spellbound by the explosive shoot-offs, moved by the deep bond between partners, but most of all she was intrigued by criminals and the motivations behind their schemes.

Now one could argue that exposing an impressionable child to these kinds of media would desensitize them to explicit violence and perhaps even warp their moral values. These concerns would be perfectly justified and measures would be taken to protect their young minds... if it were any household other than Carmen's.

She and her sister Amy had been adopted by Kage Gozen - the ambitious, stoic New York Chief of Police (dubbed teasingly as Shadow-san by close family and friends). Instead of discouraging his daughters from following in the footsteps of their father, he encouraged their interest in his dangerous profession. Kage enrolled his daughters in martial arts and self-defense classes, taught them how to shoot, and drilled into them the nuances of the law. Perhaps he was grooming them to become officers - maybe he wanted to carry on the family profession of law enforcement just as he took up the mantle after the retirement of his mother, Tomoe Gozen, from the same position.

Or perhaps the weeb side of him just thought the idea of having a couple of badass anime kids was cool.

(There was evidence to suggest this was the case, but if forensic pathologist Doctor Bellum ever breathed a word that she caught him Naruto running down the street to catch a suspect then he would stop bringing his homemade castella cake to the break room every Sunday. It was mutually assured destruction - nobody would end up happy in that situation.)

Regardless of his intentions, Chief Gozen ended up with two very capable, very opinionated, and very independent young women.

Amy, always a stickler about the rules, decided to study to become a prosecutor. After seven grueling years of hard work, she cried when she finally passed the board exam and then cried some more when she realized they misprinted her last name as "Santiago" on her licence to practice law. Since the elder sibling was off doing another profession, that meant the responsibility to follow in their father's footsteps fell to Carmen.

It was good that the girl's father instilled her with a strong sense of justice and a clear distinction between right and wrong because otherwise her obsession with criminals and the law could have gone the other direction.

Can you imagine Carmen Sandiego as a criminal? Absurd.

She knew from the moment she graduated from the Academy that she'd have to work twice as hard and be twice as efficient than her male counterparts to be treated with even half the respect. This challenge only fueled her drive her to push herself and become the best cop in her father's precinct. She resolved that when she usurped Chief Gozen's position (not if, only when) she would leave no doubt that she earned the place for herself instead of gaining it through nepotism.

That wasn't to say that she hadn't already tried asking.

Eventually, her efforts payed off as she quickly rose from police technician, to officer, to detective. Carmen was sure that along with her trusty partner, Mike "Player" Tozier, she'd reach enough solved cases and arrests for their superiors to consider promoting them to corporals soon. They had a 98% success rate - so far, it looked like smooth sailing towards her goal. What could go wrong?

(If you read the previous statement and thought to yourself: Ah, that looks like a setup to introduce someone or something that made everything go wrong...

...You'd be absolutely correct you funky little detective.)

The thief known as "Crackle" was the teensy, tiny wrinkle in her carefully mapped out life plan towards success.

"Evading us for the tenth time is not a small problem, Carmen." "Shut up, Player. I totally had him that time."

He had appeared out of nowhere and jumped onto the detective's list of Top Priorities when the Panthère de Cartier - a necklace crafted from glittering precious stones and white gold priced at fifty-two thousand dollars - disappeared directly from the neck of the actress known as Countess Cleo as she attended the Met Gala. She only noticed its absence when a photographer asked her out the bold fashion statement of wearing a folded piece of paper dangling from a piece of string as an accessory with her Ralph & Russo evening gown.

Law enforcement quietly infiltrated the Gala when the grand theft was called in by the woman. They discreetly pulled the victim aside to question her about the crime since the last thing they needed was frenzied paparazzi, press, and celebrities causing a panic and destroying potential evidence. Cleo was inconsolable as she cooperated with the police, makeup running down her face. While Player questioned/consoled the her, Carmen's intense grey eyes studied the note left over by the thief. Her gloved hands were careful while dusting the outside folded area for prints. No dice. When she opened the note it simply read: the name is Graham Crackle.

Carmen deciding that it was a stupid-ass codename, cut off the first part and dubbed him "Crackle".

At first she didn't have the slightest clue as to what the thief looked like, but then she noticed that at every crime scene that had Crackle's calling card - a note usually with some flirtatious pickup line or message - there would be a tall, athletic-looking man with swept back brunette hair on the security footage who would leave right before they arrived and would turn right at the last second towards the camera as if knowing that they would be watching.

Sometimes, if Carmen squinted hard enough at the grainy footage, she could swear that the man would flash a cocky smirk that felt entirely too much like he was mocking her personally.

However, she didn't look closely that often because Player would tease her relentlessly about her 'checking out the suspect'.

He would laugh, "Maybe that's why we haven't caught him yet - you have puppy love for the perp." She didn't know how else to reply except by shooting him a quick, but indignant "Shut up!"

She was an independent young lady with high standards to match her high moral values who absolutely did not blush whenever she opened up those notes and she absolutely did not lay awake in bed thinking about him.

"Well... shit," Carmen said aloud to herself as she stared up at the ceiling of her apartment, her short hair bedraggled from tossing and turning on her mattress as the night went on.

His motivations didn't make sense.

Crackle would steal an assortment of priceless items like the Olympic gold medal of athlete-turned-coach Sarah Brunt, the abstract (and disturbing) fine art paintings of the renowned Professor Maelstrom, and the bejeweled necklace of Countess Cleo along with other objects of high value. With his prizes, he could absolutely sell them with ease on the black market and gain a fortune... but that wasn't the case. After a few weeks or months at most, the items would be found in the homes of their rightful owners - it was like he didn't want to steal for the money but rather because it was like a game to him.

It was almost like he just wanted the attention.

Carmen laughed to herself, "What a stupid idea. What kind of dumbass-"

She was startled as a sharp knock on the door broke through the silence of her apartment. Still half asleep and groggy the brunette rolled herself out of bed, thumping onto the hardwood floor. She groaned as she stood up unsteadily, checking herself over on her iPhone camera to make sure she was at least halfway decent. The bright screen of the phone momentarily blinded her as she squinted at the time. She hissed, "What the- what the fuck it's fucking three in the morning? Who the fuck?"

Suddenly alert, Carmen grabbed a her father's present from when she first moved out: a big ol' can o' mace. She stalked toward the sound of the knocking. Apparently, her visitor had already become bored while waiting as they had taken to rapping their knuckles to different beats on the wood like they were playing a drum.

When she looked through the peephole, she realized that it was the brunette suspect from all the crime scenes:

Crackle.

As she swung it open, the door hit the inside wall of her apartment with a loud bang. He stopped mid-knock to look down at her (and the nozzle of her pepper spray) with an odd expression that seemed to show shock, apprehension, and... something else she couldn't recognize. Slowly, he raised his hands up to show that he was unarmed and they stood frozen in her doorway silently sizing each other up for a few seconds. The tension felt like it could be cut through with a knife.

"So, uh..." Crackle trailed off as his eyes traveled over her black sheep onesie, "Come here often, Lambkins?"

Huh, he's an Aussie.

Carmen's expression hardened.

In a flash of movement, her right hand free of the mace reached up and grabbed the collar of his shirt with an iron grip as she dragged him into her apartment. Still holding onto him, she turned slightly to kick the door shut behind them.

When she turned back, she noticed a deep rosy blush had exploded over his face.

Seeing him over the grainy footage of a security camera was much different than seeing him in person.

Oh no, he's hot, she screamed internally.

Her external expression remained stony as she advanced forwards while he was forced to move backwards, hands still in the air. Carmen shoved him onto her bed while she remained standing with the pepper spray aimed towards him; he fell onto the mattress with a yelp. "Do you do this with every strange man who shows up at doorstep in the middle of the night? Don't you think it's a tad too forward, mate? Not that I'm complaining-" "Shut up." Carmen cut off his nervous rambling.

She continued, proud that her tone didn't betray her internal freak-out, "You're going to tell me why you did what you did."

From his sitting position he looked up at her with a cocky grin, "I did a lot of things today, Red. You're gonna have to specify-"

Suddenly, the detective threw the pepper spray off the side as she leapt onto him. The woman quickly maneuvered until she ended up with one forearm at his throat, the other arm pinning his hands tightly to the mattress above his head, and both her knees squeezed securely around his hips to ensure he couldn't escape. However, escape was last thing on his mind at that moment. Carmen stubbornly ignored his pink flush as she spoke, "Did I not tell you shut the fuck up, Crackle? Did I fucking stutter?" He slowly shook his head under her grip. "I'm going to let you get up, and you're going to tell me why you went through all the time and effort to steal all those things only to give them back. I'm not playing around - if you fucking twitch wrong I'm going to knock you out cold and with the rest of the force will be here before you can even blink. Nod if you understand." He slowly nodded and she moved herself back until she was standing again.

Although their contact had ended as quickly as it had begun, Carmen could still feel the way his pulse fluttered against her skin.

Crackle sat up from his previous position on the bed while still looking up at her as he rubbed his neck, "First of all, the name's Graham. My friends call me Gray and I suppose you should call me that considering how close we were just a few seconds ago." She huffed and crossed her arms, glaring at him.

He continued, "Alright, so you asked me why I would rob shit and return it right? Well it's simple, there is no tragic backstory or puzzle I just wanted to get your attention." He studied her face to gauge her reaction and almost laughed at the way her expression could only be described as 'carmen.exe has stopped working'.

The cogs in her head turned, still processing his reason (and confession) when she finally let out a hysterical giggle, "I had my suspicions, but I didn't think anyone would be that much of a dork." He looked at her offended, "What? Theft is absolutely a valid language of love if you're trying to lure in a detective!" His upset tone threatened to turn her giggling into unattractive chortling, "Says who? What disaster of a person recommended this to you?" "My friend Jean-Paul said that's how he snagged his husband!" The thief defended. She stopped for a second, thinking about the familiar name, "Oh yeah, I know Antonio and his husband. He totally would've given stealing as a flirtation technique." Carmen made a mental note to confront the couple later about their unorthodox relationship advice.

The detective thought for a moment, "Wait, I hadn't even met you before you starting stealing things. Why me?" Graham looked off to the side and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, "I was just visiting to precinct to drop off something I borrowed from Antonio when I saw you working on a case with your partner. I thought you were cute so asked Jean-Paul for his advice, and the rest is history." She looked at him with exasperation, "I can't fucking belie- I would've gone out with you if you just asked me like a normal person, dipshit! You didn't need to break the law! I needed to do so much paperwork because of you!" Carmen waved her hands about to help express her frustration.

Graham looked at her as he seemed to think something over, "Well, what if I ask you out like a normal person now? What do you say about meeting me at that little cafe on 20th Street between 7th and 8th Avenue? Maybe on Friday at 8:00 PM?" Carmen considered him for a moment, "Okay, I'll meet you there... if you promise to stop stealing stuff and just date me like anyone else would." His mouth twisted into a cocky smirk, "No promises." She groaned as she grabbed his elbow, hauling him up and started to walk him back towards her door, "Why did I think you would reply any differently? Just... remember to bring your loot back to their owners."

"Of course, Lambkins"

"Don't call me that."

She opened the door and just as Graham was about the step out, she yanked him down so they were face-to-face; they were both hit with a sudden sense of déjà vu.

Carmen's stormy grey eyes peered into his as she spoke, "I just thought that you should know something before you leave: If I find out everything you've talked about was a lie? Or if you just disappear on me and don't show up on that date? I will hunt you down, I will find you, and I'll do worse things to you than what I did earlier when you got smart with me." Her soft voice was filled with warning.

Graham met her gaze with his own, his eyes eyes half-lidded, "Bold of you to assume that's not exactly what I want."

A rosy blush spread across her face as he smirked.

Carmen abruptly pushed him out the doorway and slammed it shut behind him, listening with her back to the wood until the sound of his footsteps in the hallway faded away.

She rubbed her face, tired from the events of the night as she shuffled back to her bed. Right as she was about to take a running leap onto the soft, inviting blankets, she noticed a folded piece of paper on her pillow. She hadn't even noticed him leave it there.

The brunette laughed to herself as she picked up the calling card and read aloud, "I’m supposed to be the thief, and yet you’ve stolen my heart." What a dork, she thought to herself.

And if Carmen's face heated up just a little bit then Player wasn't there to tease her about it.

#red crackle #my writing #graham crackle #carmen sandiego #carmen x gray

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anagentinwriting · 5 years

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To Catch a Thief - Part 12

Summary: Being an FBI field agent was your dream job but having been stuck behind a desk for most of your career you’ve almost given up. Fortunately, a series of robberies with minimal evidence forces you to assist a team in the field to help solve the case. But when the only thing left behind is a series of song lyrics, will you be able to find the perp? Or will the number of obstacles and lack of evidence keep you from solving the case?

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

Word Count: 3221

Warnings: Language

To Catch a Thief Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Peter POV

Arriving in Wakanda with Ronan and Korath, Peter knew this was going to be an interesting retrieval. Peter preferred working alone, Rule #5: Work by yourself every chance you get, but since no one knew where to start the search The Collector thought it best to send a couple of people with him.

Ronan laid a map of Wakanda on top of the Jeep’s hood and decided the necklace had to be in one of three spots: City of the Dead, Warrior Falls, or Jabari Land. Peter wanted to check out Warrior Falls first since Valkyrie's story happened near water, but he got outvoted. Instead, they went into the City of the Dead because the Trinkets believed if you wanted to protect something keep it close, but Peter disagreed.

As Peter suspected the City of the Dead was a dead end. They wasted a whole day only to come up with purple flowers. Korath drove back out of the city towards Warrior Falls and Peter couldn’t keep the smile off his face. He knew they should have started at the Falls, but they didn’t listen. He wasn’t an idiot he knew what he was doing. Rule #200: Research what you are stealing.

“Peter come in, Peter you there,” you said through his comm. “Sorry new to this...um...cough if you can hear me.” Peter coughed, but it turned into one of those coughing fits. “Calm down, I only needed like a single cough; no needed to cough up a lung.” He continued to cough but couldn’t stop the smirk from appearing on his face.

“Sorry, something in my throat,” he coughed again before taking a sip of water.

“I thought you were dying, guess I was mistaken,” Ronan chuckled, staring out the front windshield as Korath drove through the forest.

“Shut up you Big Turd Blossom,” Peter scoffed. “How far are we out?”

“It shouldn’t be much longer,” Korath chimed in, looking at the GPS.

“You finally get a date with the FBI agent neighbor of yours.”

Peter tried to say something, but Korath interrupted him. “Star-Prince a date?” Korath laughed, slapping his hand against the steering wheel. “Good one, Ronan.”

“Come on man.” Peter rolled his eyes staring back out the window. “I don’t think she’d give me much of a chance anymore anyways,” Peter said softly enough for the comm to pick up.

“Yeah, Pete. Kraglin here. If that was meant for YN, she’s not here. Gamora made her go eat dinner. She hasn’t eaten much since we got to Wakanda. If you ask me, she’s worried about you man.”

Peter breathed a half smile as he stared out the window. With all that’s happened, he was worried about you, too. He hated ignoring you and pretending to be busy when all he was doing was drinking his sorrows away at Trash Panda. You needed time to process everything, and Peter wanted to give it to you. He promised he’d talk to you when this is all over.

“We’re here Star-Crunch!” Korath said grabbing his gear out of the back of the jeep.

Peter stepped outside the door and stretched making his back crack. “Already?”

“We need to hike the rest of the way and set up camp. Dusk will soon be upon us soon,” Korath stated. Peter tilted his head up seeing blue skies, but he couldn’t see much more with the tree coverage.

Peter moved to the back of the Jeep to grab his gear when he saw Ronan coming out of the trees. “It’s clear I took care of the guards. Time to move forward,” Ronan mentioned.

“Wait, you killed them?”

“Call it an occupational hazard.”

“Come, let’s get this over with.” Korath walked past them and into the rainforest.

Peter rolled his eyes following behind them carrying his gear. This is why he hated working with the Trinkets, they did whatever they wanted and never had to face the consequences.

“Peter, Peter are you there?” Your voice rang in his ear.

He cracks a half smile at the sound of your voice. “Yeah,” he whispered, rubbing his mouth.

“You’re heading in the right direction. I guess you’re smarter than I pegged you for.” He bit his bottom lip to keep from smiling. His assumption was right the necklace had to be in the falls.

“How much farther is it, gentleman?” Peter asked, stepping over a fallen log.

“We should get there by afternoon tomorrow,” Korath replied, glancing down at his GPS. “But, we have more ground to cover before we reach our camp point?”

“Wow, you have it all figured out already? Rest points, checkpoints, but when are the restroom points?”

“Will you shut up?” Ronan shouted, turning his head towards Peter.

“Will you shut up?” Peter mocked in a whiny voice.

A couple of hours later, they reached their camp point. Peter pulled his gear out of his bag and set up camp. Ronan started a fire to cook his supper, Korath fiddled with his tablet, and Peter laid on his sleeping bag staring at the stars.

“Peter, I'm going to read this gossip magazine because I know you love them.” He furrowed his brows and stared hard at the night sky. He hated gossip magazines he didn’t understand the point of them. Budging into people’s private lives when they're trying to live their own life. He decided as long as he could listen to your voice he’d be okay with it. “What? This comes as a total shock. Tony Stark and Pepper Potts are having a baby! Oh my god, really? This shit is news nowadays. Yeah, this magazine sucks...moving on.” He let out a quiet chuckle.

“How about them Yankees? Just kidding, I don’t pay attention to football. Wait, no that’s baseball,” you laughed. “I’m too sleep deprived for this right now.” Peter loved hearing you laugh. He wished he could be with you right now instead of in the middle of the rainforest pursuing a piece of jewelry he didn’t give a shit about.

“In case you’re wondering, I’m on the first watch, so you’re going to have to listen to my annoying voice. Hope your good with that,” you paused, waiting for a response. He coughed and hummed. “Knew you still like me,” you chuckled.

“I think we need to talk about the elephant over the comm. Since you can’t speak without getting killed, I’ll go first.” You took a deep breath. “At first, I didn’t know why you did it. I thought you were in it for the money or the glory or whatever. Most people are when it comes to these sort of things, but you weren’t Peter. You had a reason, you did it for family, for your mother, and I understand that. I mean, if I could go back to warn my parents about what was going to happen. I’d do it in a heartbeat.” You stayed quiet for a few minutes, and he continued to stare at the stars.

“I kind of miss you. Is that weird to say? I don’t know, but you’re a good guy, Peter,” you confessed, clearing your throat. “And I’m sorry if I did anything disconcerting to make you hate me.”

You thought he hated you. Where did that come from? It was the total opposite, Rule #2: Never get close to a cop, but it’s not like he could say anything right now and not get caught. He’d have to let it pass and talk once this all blows over.

“Ahh, sappy moments. Gross, am I right? Sorry,” you laughed awkwardly. “Anyways, I made a playlist cause I know you’re sick of listening to Korath and Ronan. Enjoy the comm tunes!”

He waited as you put the music through. Right away he heard Faithfully by Journey. He grinned, of course, you would play this song first. He started out singing it quietly which then turned into belting out the chorus.

“Will you shut up? Some people are trying to sleep here,” Ronan shouted, making Peter laugh.

At that moment he didn’t care about anything because over his comm he could hear you giggling. He was the reason behind it, and he couldn’t stop smiling. He turned his back towards the fire and continued to listen to your playlist until he fell asleep.

They walked in silence for a few hours until they reached the edge of a cliff where a river flowed below them. The Golden City was in the far distance surrounded by miles and miles of trees spreading in all directions. The view was breathtaking, and Peter never thought he’d see anything like this.

“This way,” Korath insinuated, turning to walk upstream as the other men followed behind.

“Peter we need to talk.” Your voice rang into his ear.

“Dudes, I gotta take a leak, do you mind if I---” Peter gestured to his crotch before pointing to the trees.

“Make it quick,” Ronan scoffed, shaking his head.

Peter took off his gear and walked into the forest a good distance away from Ronan and Korath before speaking. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I wanted to give you a heads up at Warrior Falls. Valkyries tunnel is between one of the falls but to get to it you have to stop the water from flowing over the cliffs.”

“How do you reckon we do that?”

“There’s a sensor mechanism in the water like an hourglass funnel. It slows the flow of the water going over the cliffs within a certain diameter when it’s activated. This will make it possible to check the area for tunnels. Shuri changed the algorithm to make it easier to hack for a normal person as she called it. She thinks Korath can do it given his track record.”

“I thought I wasn’t getting any outside help on this?” He questioned with a humorous grin on his face before taking a wide stance.

“Call it a one-time thing.”

“I’ll take what I can get. Thank you,” Peter sighed in contentment.

“You’re...wait, are you...are you peeing?”

“No,” he lied, zipping his pants back up.

“You’re lying.”

“Well….I wasn’t lying when I said I needed to drain the main vein.”

“Yeah, I didn’t need to hear that. Be safe.”

“You too, sweetheart.”

Peter walked back out of the forest to find Korath scanning the surroundings while Ronan stood there with their arms crossed across his chest. “What crawled up your butt, bro?”

“Lose the tracker.”

“Tracker? What tracker?”

“The one in your purse.”

“It’s not a purse, it’s a knapsack, and there’s no tracker in it.” Peter narrowed his eyes at him.

“Korath found it this morning when it was interfering with his tablet. Who have you been talking too?”

“Wow, searching through other people’s things. Real cool guys, thought we could trust each other. And no, I haven’t been talking to anyone, I swear.”

“Then who put the tracker on you.”

“Shit, I don’t know, man. My neighbor. She’s gotten pretty suspicious of me, but I didn’t think she would’ve gone this far.” He opened his knapsack to find the small sticker inside. He ripped it off and held it in the air to examine it. “Huh? Well, this is some fancy tech. Am I right boys?” Korath scoffed as Peter threw it over the cliff into the river below. “Happy?”

“Yes. Let’s keep moving,” Ronan concurred, starting to walk upstream.

“Peter, you there? What are you doing? Why are you going down the stream?” You panicked. “If you are floating down that river dead, I will bring you back and kill you myself. Peter, answer me?”

“I’m fine,” he whispered loud enough for you to hear.

“Thank god. You fucking scared me, Peter! Don’t you dare do that again! Shuri’s going to be pissed you threw away her tech. You know this tech doesn’t just grow on trees, right? Scratch that, it might in Wakanda.” He smiled at your concern.

Peter heard pounding water flowing in the distance, and once they curved around the corner his eyes landed on Warrior Falls. Waterfall after waterfall flowed at once on both sides of the stream. One side of the stream had a higher elevation with various cliffs and plateaus creating small pools of standing water before toppling over into the river. It was really something else. He couldn’t take his eyes off it until the two men stood there glaring at him.

“Did I miss something?” Peter inquired, walking up to them.

“Last night, Korath narrowed down where the correct tunnel could be. But first, he has to hack into the funnel mechanism to stop the water flow,” Ronan shared.

“I guess it’s time to get kinky with some rope then, am I right fellas?” Peter said, rubbing his hands together with anticipation.

Korath hacked into the mechanism with ease slowing down the water flow over the cliffs. Peter took off his knapsack and started pulling out his climbing equipment. Rule #56: Pack more than what you think you’ll need. He drilled the blot into the stone and strung the cable through it as did Ronan and Korath. They scaled down the slippery cliffs, and after a days worth of searching they came up empty.

Another day was drawing to a close, and he didn’t hear a peep out of YN or the team for the past two days. He couldn’t hear anything besides the rushing sound of the water, but at least this whole thing was almost over.

Peter moved onto the next cliff but stopped short when something caught his attention down below. He squinted his eyes, but with the sun setting, it was hard to tell what it could be. He continued to scale down until his feet hit a small pool of water on top of it. He unlatched himself from the cable and walked to the small opening in the corner. He called the other two men over before venturing inside.

“Who’s first?” Peter asked, getting no reply. “Okay, guess I’ll go first. Not like I wasn’t the one who found it in the first place, but hey, let’s send the expendable one in first,” Peter mumbled, entering the cave tunnel alone. He shined his flashlight inside only seeing darkness. “Okay, you got this, your Star-Lord. All I have to do is find this necklace, get my mom back, then get the girl. We’ll all live happily ever after like Kevin Bacon.”

Walking through the dark and quiet tunnel, he beamed his flashlight until he stepped into a dim lit room. A language Peter didn’t recognize was written on the walls and skeletons laid on the ground wearing protective gear. A stone pillar sat in the center of the room with grooves carved into the top. This had to be the place he read about. “I thought this place was a myth.”

“A myth, no, this place and the stones are very real,” Ronan stated, coming out of the tunnel with an evil look plastered on his face. “Now, where is the Soul Stone?”

Valkyrie left this cave leaving behind the Soul Stone. If she never returned, it should be on the pillar, but Peter saw no sign of it anywhere. Did she come back after her tribe exiled her? Peter’s eyes wandered around the cave seeing glass bottles, tankards, and goblets laying all over the ground. In every book he read about these stones each one mentioned Valkyries drinking problem. This further proved his theory. She must’ve returned and hid the stone away from those who wouldn’t understand it. Maybe, she didn’t die from drinking but from protecting the stone.

“Quill, any ideas?” Ronan asked as Peter rubbed his forehead continuing to think. “Quill.”

“Valkyrie came back.”

“Who?” Korath asked.

“Come on man, Valkyrie. The badass woman that left her village in search of new aspirations. The one who found these stones in the first place. She came back for the stone she left behind.”

“Why does that matter?” Ronan questioned, crossing his arms across his chest.

“Well, I think she came back to destroy it but found out she couldn’t, so she stayed here to protect it," Peter answered, resting his hands on his hips.

“Then, what did she do with it?”

“Best guess, she hid it in the walls or buried it somewhere.”

“Let’s search everywhere.”

Peter sat against the wall out of breath. They’ve been at this for hours only to come up with nothing, again. The room was dark with the only light coming from their flashlights. He tried to contact YN’s team, but all he heard was silence. Did his comm unit stop working after all the water activity? And if the Wakandans knew the stone was here, why haven’t they tried to retrieve it?

“Quill, get off your ass and find it. We are running out of sunlight,” Ronan sneered, kicking Peter’s boot.

“We are out of sunlight idiot. It’s pitch black in here.”

“I don’t care. What do you think flashlights are for?”

Peter stood up and patted the dirt off his pants. He stepped over to the pillar in the center of the room to take a closer look at it. “One, two, three, four, five,” Peter counted, shining his flashlight over the grooves. Then, he counted again. “Did no one think to count the grooves in this thing?” Peter inquired, pointing his flashlight in Ronan and Korath face.

“No, what’s the point? There are six stones so six grooves.” Ronan spoke up.

“Yeah, well I’m not so sure about that because I only count five grooves.”

“What?” Ronan rushed over, pushing Peter out of the way to count them for himself. “We have been searching for a stone that doesn’t exist?”

“Not exactly, it could be a key, you know like all five stones open a door, or hatch of some sort to retrieve the sixth stone. Have neither of you seen a movie?” Ronan and Korth stared at him dumbfounded. “Do either of you have the stones along with you?”

“I’ll make a call to The Collector. Korath, I will need your assistance with the connection.” They leave heading back out the tunnel, and Peter breaks into a dance and starts singing Eye of the Tiger by Survivor.

“Peter, you hear me?” your voice rang statically through his ear making him stop and glance back at the entrance before he answered.

“Yes.”

“Nice dance moves,” you chuckled.

“Thanks! Wait, you can see me?” He asked, shining the flashlight around the room.

“Clear as day. Shuri installed these Ultra HD cameras she invented down there, but trust me, you won’t find them. They’re the size of a thumbtack, and they can camouflage themselves.” He huffed, observing the room with his flashlight again only to find nothing.

“No kidding! Then, this one’s for you, sweetheart.” He started dancing again and shaking his hips forcing a giggle out of you.

“What are you celebrating?”

“The Collector’s coming to Wakanda, and he’s bringing the necklaces with him.” Peter shuffled in place doing the Single Ladies dance. “Then the FBI, being you and the team,--” he pointed to an area on the wall then pointed to a different area before shrugging "--will take his ass down, and sweetheart, that’s worth celebrating.” Rule #1: Never fall in love.

AN: Things are getting deep! Do you think their plan will work out? What kind of trickery do you think Valkyrie created in order to protect the stone? Will it be an easy in and out, or will someone not make it to the end? Find out next week! As always thanks for reading!

#peter quill x reader #peter quill #peter quill reader insert #peter quill au #peter quill image #star-lord x reader #star-lord au #star-lord #gotg #gotgvol2 #guardians of the galaxy #guardians of the galaxy vol 2 #marvel fanfiction #chris pratt #marvel #marvel au #to catch a thief

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thegreen1969pontiac · 5 years

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L’appel Du Vide Chapter 7- The Mechanic, The Uncle, The Car

Eventual Dean x OC

Summary: When Hope’s sister is killed in a less than a normal house fire, and Sam, her sister’s boyfriend, disappears with his brother after her death they’re her number one suspects. When the cops declare the case cold she begins her hunt for the Winchester boys. She follows them in hope for some evidence pointing to the death of her sister, but will she find more than just the cause and the killer? Will she find out more than she wanted to?

Warning: Nothing maybe a couple bad words

Word Count: 919

I don't mind driving. In fact, I enjoy it quite a bit. Sure, the sitting in the same seat for hours on end that I was doing as I followed the boys wasn't my type of driving, but I still enjoy driving.

Theo has been in my life since I turned eighteen, a gift from Uncle Theo to me. My parents lived in Mississippi at the time, it wasn't until my dad's mother died that they took us away from Meridian, I hated that move. I always hated the humidity that Mississippi had, but I wasn't ready to give up the countless summer afternoons I had at the garage working on old, classy cars with my Uncle, singing off tune to some classic rock song.

When I turned seventeen I went into my senior year. I only had two classes a week due to finishing all of my credits so early, I would fly down every other weekend to Mississippi with the extra money I saved from working at the local burger joint. I spent my weekends down there and spent them working with my uncle again, I loved the days that I spent there. My Uncle was not really a drinker, but he would always have a cheap Budlight with him, but he always drank it the same way. He would put it in a glass fill the red beer up to half and then fill the rest with tomato juice and to top it all off he would add the salt. I was interested in his choice of drink, while I merely had a diet coke with me he always had the same drink, I asked him what the salt was for one time, the idea of adding more salt into the drink sounded bizarre, and he simply said,

"It chases away the demons." I always assumed he meant the liquor inside the drink. I could agree with him on that end. I tried the drink one time shortly after Theo had gone missing, the taste alone made my headache and my mouth sore. Theo always had the materials to make the drink at the garage with him, he had a mini-fridge that he kept the drinks cool in the humidity of Meridian. The diet cokes were always cool and the beer and tomato juice were as well, it seemed as if he would never run out of salt either, he kept the bags of salt from clumping in the humidity with rice, the concept always seemed quite intelligent to me. In that summer Uncle Theo finally gave up the big green machine itself. It was always mine, it was the car that he and I would work on most often trying to get the big bastard to come to life. I spent all of my summers after I graduated, showering money onto the car and its many problems.

And now as I drive down into a rainy California town I am glad that I spent that summer with Uncle Theo because that was the most I would see of him until his disappearance. The nostalgia that washed through me at hearing the old Bob Seger song that my Uncle would screech out at the top of his lungs came on the radio and I nodded my head along and murmured some of the words out. It was almost as if I could smell the grease of the car and the tomato juice, and as I pulled into one of the many motels in the tourist trap town I felt the phantom feeling of the Meridian, Mississippi weather on my skin.

The motel wasn't as horribly unclean as the many others had been. The bed-sheets looked and smelt clean, lacking the cigarette smell that seemed to lurk on all the others motel sheets, the bathroom was stocked well and had fresh looking towels displayed and there was even a coffee machine in the corner near the sink. It was a small victory, I dropped my bags on the ground, I had bought a couple more pieces of clothing a few towns back, and toiletries seeing as many of the other motels along the way seemed to be lacking them.

I was in California after hearing about a mysterious arsonist who had killed a firefighter in the '70s. The arsonist was recently released and the story had made papers across California. It was around the magical time at night that the mind began to make up things, I decided it was the best time to work subsequently, the hazy town was perfect for me to get comfortable in, I made myself a cup of coffee and added three extra sugars because of the lack of the creamer that seemed to make the coffee always taste better.

I got to work on investigating hoping it would bring me closer to finding out the death of Jess. The hours seemed to fly by and the slow wake of the town began, the purple sky was soon replaced with yellows and pinks and then finally with its finale of blue, parts of the sun hit Jess' crystal necklace sending small rainbows across the motel room.

The fog of nostalgia almost can wash over you in a town like this, but it is important to continue moving forward so we never are caught in the web of the past, then we will be able to untangle ourselves soon enough to experience the freedom of the future.

#dean winchester #dean x oc #jessica moore #jessica moore sister #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural series #supernatural series rewrite #slow burn #series #long series #l'appel du vide #original character

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velvet-roads · 6 years

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Like a Virgin: Chapter 1

I attempted to post this a year ago and It has taken me that long to finish all 30 chapters. That’s right, you have 30 chapters coming your way. This was supposed to be a one shot but putting my heart in it made it longer.

This is all pre season 12, I am in denial about Crowley (I am sure I’m not the only one). The fic is a female readerXcrowley.

Warnings: none

Word Count: around 3,700

Below I listed the music i was listening too that sparked my ideas (it’s an all over the place list. 2 songs per chapter) and the wardrobe I created for the reader. Again, I put my heart in it and got carried away. =)

Playing Cop: Hunter 's Outfit:

Music that inspired me (Spotify): Fear by Stop Making Friends/ Pauley Perrette and Electric Worry by Clutch.

“Hi, Agents Tyler, Cooper, Morrison; what do you got?” Going down the line Dean introduced himself, Sam and you to the local Sheriff. You all flashed your badges like it was second nature. In actuality, it was for Sam and Dean. You, not so much. It was still weird having to don a dark grey power suit and black stiletto heels as part of your "work attire”. You were not really that fond of the bureaus dress code but getting to play cop was sort of fun.

This was the third field case you had worked with the boys since they had saved your ass from a wendigo 6 months ago. You would usually get stuck on research duty and were only allowed to help on the easier cases. It's not that you were a bad hunter but you were really new to the whole hunters' lifestyle and were still in training. The other reason was because of how tiny you were. The boys were convinced that you were more fragile than necessary because you were just over five feet tall on a good day. You looked more like bait than a standard hunter. Regardless of your green horn status and small stature, the boys thought this instance was one you could live through. After the sheriff scrutinized your badges with hooded tired eyes, he decided that they met his expectations.

“The victim's name was Sarah Lake, she was taken some time either Tuesday night or early Wednesday morning. Her friends say that she was up late that night studying in the library for an exam. She never made it to the test Wednesday afternoon and no one has seen her since.” As the Sheriff spoke he had an expression that was a mixture of exhaustion and sadness. It was a common expression found on college campus law enforcement. The local PD would usually get a lot of crap to sort through during the week when it came to colleges. They would get calls from kids thinking that they were being funny while drunk, occasionally a serious call that ended up being a prank, and sometimes a call like this; not an easy job.

You and the boys walked over to the girl's gold Ford Focus where the Sheriff was standing next to the broken driver's side window. It was still morning so you could see the sun shimmer on the shattered glass making it glitter in the light. Mentally you chuckled to yourself as you looked the car over because this was defiantly a collage girls' car. From the Bath and Body Works scent clip attached to the visor to the Hawaiian flower sticker in the back window. There were cars like this all over Kaplan University. It made sense why it took a couple of days to notice something was amiss. With that many cars around one broken window isn't that noticeable.

“I will let you three take a look around and see if there is anything I may have missed.” With a tip of his hat, the Sheriff trudged off back to his squad car probably to down more coffee.

“How many girls is this now?” Dean let out a low growl on the word 'now', clearly getting frustrated that you guys had another missing girl.

“This is the third one in a week. Whatever is taking these girls isn't messing around.” You let out a deep sigh as you summarized the body count and walked over to the passenger side door opening it. As you leaned in and started to look around, Sam stuck his head through the broken window and took a deep breath.

“Well, no sulfur smell, so I think we can rule out a demon attacks. Plus, this abduction pattern is specific to just girls.” With a perplexed expression Sam removed his head from the car and walked to the trunk with Dean, leaving you to rummage throughout the car cabin. Dean displayed the case files of all the missing girls out on the trunk so he and Sam could have another glance at all three of them.

“What do we know that connects all three girls?” Dean asked out loud not expecting an answer. Sam grabbed the campus information and began to read. It didn't look like there was anything that connected them. One girl was an exchange student from Europe, another was a sorority brat, and the last girl was just a normal run of the mill student living in the dorms. None of them were even taking the same classes. After rifling through a few more papers Sam got an interested look on his face. There was a list of emails between the victims. Scanning through some of the conversations that he found, it became clear the girls did in fact all know each other.

“Well,” Sam said while holding a piece of paper up to Dean’s face; “It looks like all three girls did know each other. They were all part of a club called Modern Maidenhood here on campus.”

“Great,” Dean stated with an irritated tone in his voice; “a coven?” Sam let out a breathy laugh at his brother,

“Try again Dean.” As if in a cartoon, Sam could almost see the light bulb come on over top of Dean’s head.

“Virgins?” he asked in surprise; “freaking virgins?” Dean let out a small sigh and shook his head, “sorry ladies, you got a raw deal.” He moved back around to the broken driver's side window and stuck his head inside. You were still looking around the seats when you heard your name.

“Hey, Y/N. We figured out how all of the girls are connected. They are all virgins.” Dean looked at you waiting for a response or some sort of joke but you said nothing. You were somewhat surprised at what he just told you; mostly because you and these girls had something in common and the boys had no clue that virginity was your secret. As Dean relayed the new information, Sam appeared next to him watching you through the window. You stopped digging around the car for the moment and returned their gaze.

“Well, what do we know that likes virgins?” You asked trying to quell the slight panic that was running through your mind. Lucky for you, the boys didn't notice. The three of you just stared at each other while going through the mental files you all had of the monsters you battled or read about. You spoke first.

“Well, we know that the alpha vamp you guys came across liked to keep at least one around because she was considered a delicacy.” You said the word ‘delicacy’ as if it had left a bad taste in your mouth. The thought of blood drinking was quite unappealing to you. “Also, we know that dragons tend to favor them but you said that you guys haven't seen any since Eve.” you added.

“Yeah and we know it isn't that Vesta bitch, we ganked her a while ago, plus she didn't go for just girls.” Dean said. The three of you discerning that you did not have enough information decided that it is better to just keep digging around the crime scene and then more later at the bunker. Just as the boys retracted from the window you felt something in-between the seats. You reached down to grab it and pull it out. It was a cheap fake gold necklace chain with a small gold bow pendant and you were willing to bet anything that it came from Forever Twenty-one (could this girl be anymore cliché?). The clasp was broken like it had been ripped off.

“Hey guys, I think I know what we might be up against.” You said as you held up the necklace for them to see. Sam took the evidence out of your hand as you stepped out of the passenger side and shut the door.

“A vampire wouldn't care about a fake gold necklace,” he looked at both you and Dean knowing you were all thinking the same thing; “however, a dragon would.” The three of you let out a heavy sigh at the realization that you are most likely hunting a damn dragon. Sam stuffed the accessory in his pocket and you all returned back to the sheriff who, like you suspected, was drinking coffee in his squad car. The boys told him that if they come across anything new that they would give him a call and that they expected the same courtesy. Getting back in the Impala, you headed home to do some more digging. Luckily the university was only about 100 miles from the bunker which meant you would only have to listen to Sam and Dean argue over tunes for 2 hours, it could be worse.

After getting home you, all went your separate ways; the boys usually went get a beer and you had to get out of that god-awful suit. You weren't even in the bunker 5 minutes when you heard a crash from the kitchen.

You were in the middle of changing your clothes when it happened. Upon hearing the commotion, you threw open your door and ran down the hall with your knife in your hand. You stopped at the door frame to see what happened. Three pairs of eyes turned to look at you standing there in nothing but one of Dean’s old dark red flannels, a pair of black underwear, messy hair, and a knife. Realizing that there was no attack happening you noticed and extra body in the room; Crowley. A scarlet shade overtook your face as all three of them looked at you. Dean, trying not to laugh at your state and doing a horrible job, bent over and picked up the beer bottle that he had dropped when Crowley surprised him unannounced. Crowley looked you up and down, as a cheeky smile formed on his face.

“Hello, Darling.” he said in that sexy accent of his; “If I would have known this was how you were going to greet me I would come over more often. However, I would prefer that you put the knife down, love.” You turned away before your face could get any redder or hotter. The last thing you wanted was the boys and the King of Hell to know that you were harboring a crush on the demon. You met Crowley very shortly after moving in with the boys. So, you have known him for almost 6 months. He wasn’t around all the time but when he was around you had a hard time fighting with your feelings. You wanted to like him but a human and a demon was a bad idea. Your interactions with Crowley were short and usually full of innocent flirting and quippy banter, but each meeting made you feel for him a little bit more.

Running back to your room with your shame trailing behind you, you threw on a pair of grey motorcycle jeans, your black leather cuff, your black biker boots, and buttoned the shirt you were wearing the rest of the way. Taking a moment to regain your composure and letting your face get somewhat back to its normal color, you left your room to go confront your demons, well demon actually.

Upon entering the kitchen, you went past all three of the guys and straight for the liquor. Crowley made you nervous, and not in a bad way like being in a room with the King of Hell should; damn him. After pouring yourself a glass of courage you turned back to the boys; Crowley was watching you intently, no doubt enjoying the fact that he embarrassed you and saw you half naked. Sam walked over to the counter where you stood and asked if you were OK. You gave him a single nod as you took a sip. From the dining table Dean spoke, breaking the awkward silence that you had accidentally created.

“Crowley, can you please explain to me why the hell you are here?” He asked pretending to be more annoyed than he actually was. Crowley and the boys had a history, a messy one, but one nonetheless.

“Squirrel, I am hurt. Did you not miss me?” Crowley always knew how to get right under Dean’s skin, which is probably why he always flirted with you.

“No, not really. Again, why are you here?” Dean’s tone was a lot more demanding this time. He didn't necessarily hate Crowley but he definitely didn't trust him. The demon started to pace a bit, his expensive leather shoes shuffling slightly as he walked. He sauntered over to you and grabbed himself a glass of whiskey as well. You tried desperately to keep yourself together as you nervously drank your liquor. He observed that you were slightly flustered and he studied you intrigued. Before leaving the counter and turning back to the middle of the room, he took a sip and gave you a wink that would have made even a nun question her sexual morals. Damn he was adorable. Addressing all three of you he finally responded to Dean's query.

“I assume you have heard about all of the recent abductions?” He eyed the three of you waiting for a response. You all gave a curt nod showing that you understood and that you were listening.

“And I assume you know what you are hunting then?” This was more of a statement than a real question. He knew that you all had some idea. This time, you spoke.

"We are betting on a Dragon." You said, shrugging your shoulders slightly, you took another sip of your drink and waited for him to speak again.

“That’s right love, you are hunting a dragon.” Sam instinctively scooted closer and draped an arm around you after seeing that Crowley was gawking. There was nothing romantic between you and Sam, he was pretty much your brother, but he was very protective.

“We know what we’re hunting”, Sam said still keeping you close to himself, “but that still doesn’t tell us why you’re here.” Crowley surveyed the room. He was stalling. You could tell that he wasn't looking forward to his next sentence because he looked down at his drink and swirled it a bit before answering.

“I need a favor from you three.” Crowley almost wasn't able to finish his sentence before Dean stood up from the kitchen table where he had been seated. Dean placed his arms tight against his chest and moved over to you and Sam. You knew at this point he was quickly losing his patients with The King of Hell.

“So, what exactly does the all mighty King need from us?” The older Winchester's reply was dripping with sarcasm and Crowley could not help but roll his eyes in return. Crowley swallowed another sip of his whiskey, making a slight face because it was cheap stuff, and purposefully drug out his answer because he knew it would piss Dean off. As you watched the exchange you had no luck quelling your small smile. It was so easy to get at Dean.

Finally, the demon spoke; “I happen to know that the big daddy dragon is in town.” The three of you looked at him in surprise and curiosity as he continued. “All of the kidnappings are happening at his request. I want you to bring me the alpha.” He took another sip and waited for a response. You all ogled at each other in surprise and suspicion. You were shocked because up until the Purgatory mayhem dragons had been gone for 700 years and as far you knew the boys had only managed to kill one. After that they were not seen again. Crowley, however, was the sole reason for suspicion. You could tell that he was leaving out some information. What did he want an alpha for again?

“What exactly do you want with an alpha?” Sam asked the question you were all thinking.

“What does it bloody matter? You bring me the alpha and there is one less dragon to worry about.” Crowley looked at the three of you clearly exasperated at your lack of compliance. Even though you carried a torch for the King of Hell you knew better than to trust him fully, he was a cut-throat business man first and foremost.

“Crowley, you don't seriously expect us to believe that you are giving us the whole story, right? We all know you better than that.” You crossed your arms against your chest like Dean. You may be small and new to this whole hunting thing but you were smart. You knew that Crowley liked to occasionally 'forget' the fine print. He looked at you in fake shock and placed his hand over his heart as if you had just shot him.

“Dove, you wound me.” He smiled as he talked to you. With a small grin, you rolled your eyes and shook your head slightly in response. Seeing you and Crowley act so casually with each other made Sam tighten his grip on your shoulder. Crowley’s smile faded as Dean cleared his throat to get things back on track and to get the King of Hell to stop bantering with you.

“You got me. I happen to know that the alpha is planning to take out as many of my people as he can, possibly me as well. Kansas is just the first stop.” The three of you stared in confusion at one another then looked back at Crowley. The demon put his fingers on the bridge of his nose and pitched it taking a deep breath, clearly getting irritated that he had to spell it all out for you. “There is a spell...” he started to explain but he didn't get much farther than that when your confusion lifted and was replaced with understanding.

“Do you remember when you told me about the time that you got arrested by the real FBI and you guys were stuck in the prison while all of Lilith’s minions were trying to kill you?” You asked, turning to face the boys. There was an air of excitement in your tone because you knew something they didn't. One of the benefits of always getting stuck on book duty was that you had read up on a lot of creatures, and a lot of the boys' old cases that Sam had transcribed. They both looked at you and nodded solemnly at remembering that horrible day. “Ok, do you remember when Ruby told you that there was a spell to destroy all demons with in a one-mile radius?” You didn't have help carry their thoughts much farther than that before things clicked for Sam.

“She said she would have to have the heart of a virgin to do it,” Sam said finishing your thought. The three of you then turned to look at Crowley.

“Glad to see we are all on the same page now. Gold star for you, I am impressed, love.” Crowley's eyes lingered on you a bit longer than necessary and you tried to hold back a blush as he continued. “Now, he is going to keep gathering up as many virgins as he can in the hopes of wiping out any and all demons off the earth. I want you to bring him to me so we can have a little chat and then I will kill him. This is personal.” The kitchen was silent as the three of you contemplated the job. Obliterating all demons was not as positive as it once had been. Having Crowley and coincidentally his army on your team (most of the time) had paid off more than once. But of course, Senior 'Shoot first and ask later' didn’t care.

“No deal.” Dean made the statement stepping forward like a proud captain. “I don't plan on being Hell’s bitch again any time soon.” Sam looked at Dean then back at Crowley. The boys had worked for Crowley before and it didn't end well.

“I agree with Dean, it’s not a good idea for us.” Sam loosened his grip on your shoulder and went to stand next to his brother in support. You stayed where you were for the moment really thinking things through. Thinking was something you did more often than the boys. You liked to weigh and measure the situation. You felt the King of Hell’s gaze on you, he knew that you gravitated towards reason when it came to dealing with the Winchesters.

“I will help you on one condition,” as you spoke, Sam and Dean eyed you with shocked expressions, their hands dropping at their sides in exasperation that you were not agreeing with them. “We will help you get the alpha. You work with us, we don't work for you. Once we eighty-six the alpha we go after whatever dragons are left, together.” While compromising, you moved from the counter to stand next to your adoptive brothers. The boys didn't say anything because they were still surprised at you. A sly grin inched across Crowley’s features. Not only did you manage to get the King what he wanted but you also stunned the boys into silence.

“I like you pet, I think these boys should listen to you more often.” You refused to give him any inclination as to how much you liked getting his approval and him calling you 'pet'. Instead you pretended that you hated it and found it offensive.

“Don't call me pet, I am a hunter, not some play thing.” You tried to muster up as much venom as you could in your words but it was difficult to. Crowley smirked and threw his hands up in mock surrender and then turned back to the two brothers who now were beginning to resemble statues with their mouths set in disbelief.

“Lads?” He asked with a raised eyebrow and a cocky twitch of his lip.

“Fine.” Dean made the statement with disdain and a set jaw.

“Crowley if you put one toe out of line....” Sam started to add a threat on to Dean's answer but Crowley beat him to it.

“I know, I know, you kill me;” The King responded sarcastically, “Well then, where should we get started?”

#crowleyxreader #crowley #supernatural #series #likeavirgin #spnfamily #spn fanfic #fanfic #SamWinchester #deanwinchester

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