#bobby has been knew but now that there's finally some movement he's just quietly vibrating about finally getting to officiate a wedding

[lovecolibri]

The "very close talking" scene from the Bounty Hunters episode of Psych, but make it Buddie. One of them (at this point it should be Eddie) makes their intentions clear but gives the other the time and space to be ready. Come on ABC, don't let us down!

[potterbite]

i can only be me with you

After one of Buck’s heroics spreads all over the news, Eddie finally sees what happened above ground when he was trapped almost a year before. 

On AO3.

As Buck and the team hops out of the firetruck, the rest of the station starts applauding; some are early for their shift that’s about to start, others preparing to head home. About twelve of fifteen people are just standing there, grinning at Buck.

“What - ?” Buck begins, looking to the others for some confirmation that they know what this is about. However, they all seem just as confused as he feels.

As the applauds die down, Bobby speaks up.

“What was that about?”

One of the women on the upcoming shift grins. “It’s gone viral.”

“What has?”

“The video from earlier today of Buck jumping out of that window to save the little girl.”

Oh. 

At this, Hen and Chim laugh while Eddie gives him a nudge on the shoulder, muttering, “Now you’re just like Firefox.”

-----

The thing is, it’s not like he had the time to think it through before jumping out of the window on the eight floor; it was all instinct, seeing that little girl fall through it with nobody else close by to help her. But on some level, he knew he still had the harness around his middle and he trusted his team enough to fully believe they would catch that rope before it was too late.

So he flew through the crashed window barely two seconds after the screaming five year old and caught her around the waist; she was so stunned she paused her screaming. They came to an abrupt stop at the fourth floor, hanging like a couple of ragdolls, and he could’ve sworn he heard someone from up above swear loudly in spanish. 

But it’s not like he thought that someone might be filming it all and uploading it to every social media plattform known to mankind or that it would be on all the big news channels less than six hours later. 

He won’t lie, he kind of likes it. But he’s still exhausted by the time he pulls the key out of the ignition in the driveway. He leans his head back and closes his eyes; his phone is finally quiet, blissfully so, after ringing every three minutes since he finished work four hours ago. Granted, he did turn off sound and vibration so the quiet might be thanks to that but he doesn’t dare to look and check for number of missed calls in the last thirty minutes.

A rapt knock on the driver window makes him jump, the top of his head hitting the roof of the car with a thump and his legs slamming into the steering wheel.  

He curses in pain, but still hears the muffled laughter; he flips the other person off. 

“Nice one,” Eddie comments as he opens the car door. Buck just grunts in response, shaking his legs a couple of times as he climbs out. 

“Don’t sneak up on a person like that.”

Eddie raises both eyebrows. “You’re sitting in my driveway. Chris heard you and wanted me to check you weren’t a murderer.”

Buck grins at this. “And he made you go alone?”

“I didn’t say it was logical. Now come on, dinner is almost ready.”

At least three or four times a week, Buck goes over to the Diaz house for dinner and to hang out with two of his favorite people. Also, ever since Eddie broke it off with Ana a few weeks back, Buck’s been afraid that Eddie might feel lonely. Whenever he asks about her though, Eddie doesn’t say much about the break up, only that it had been amicable and then he always gets this tinge of red on his cheeks that Buck absolutely does not find cute. 

“Hey kiddo!” Buck calls out as they enter the house through the kitchen door.

“Bucky! You’re on TV,” Chris replies and Buck sighs, standing next to Eddie by the counter. 

“I can’t look at that shit anymore,” he murmurs and the other man smirks.

“Not all it’s cracked up to be, being a celebrity?”

“I - “ 

“Bucky! Come see, they’re showing when you tried to save Dad, too,” Chris calls and well, Buck isn’t sure but it would seem his entire stomach flips at these words. 

Eddie goes still, a frown on his face. “What’s he talking about?”

Buck will absolutely not blush. “Probably just heard him wrong.”

“Dad! It’s really cool when Bucky screams like that, come see!”

Buck straightens. “He really shouldn’t be allowed to watch the news by himself, I’ll go put a movie on.”

He takes big strides towards the living room, but before he makes it all the way Eddie swishes past him as if he’s got wings. Eddie picks up the remote and rewinds a couple of minutes. And honestly, for a man claiming he hates technology, Eddie really loves that smartTV, even though he didn’t even know he could rewind until Buck showed him (something he regrets now). 

It’s not like Buck is ashamed of how he reacted that day when the ground collapsed on top of Eddie. Not really. It’s more that it feels like a pandora’s box he’s only ever opened on that day and he’s now deathly afraid of what will happen when he peeks under the lid again. 

But what can he do except stand there behind the couch next to Eddie and watch as the other man finds the right moment and press play? 

“Yes! Let’s watch it over and over again,” Chris claps. Buck ruffles a hand over his hair in response and the boy giggles.

“When was - ?” Eddie starts, but then he seems to recognize the farm. “Oh.”

In silence, they listen to the news anchor saying what a good guy Evan Buckley is and how he lost it when one of his own team members went under. There’s a drone shot from the moment of the collapse. A close-up on Buck’s face as he screams, and Bobby scooping him up.

Buck had known there were news teams there, of course, but he hadn’t realized they’d gotten him on camera as well. He’d ignored all reports from that day, preferring to not think about all the thousand things that could’ve gone wrong, so he’s never seen this before. But obviously, Eddie hasn’t either given the way he stares open mouthed at the screen. 

When he turns his head to look at Buck, Buck just shrugs sheepishly at him.

“That was so cool, right dad?” Chris grins, and Buck sees Eddie’s face soften. 

“Yeah, it was.” He looks up and meets Buck’s eyes for the fraction of a second and there’s another jolt in Buck’s stomach. “Time for dinner.”

-----

They don’t talk about what they saw on the news for the entire dinner or during the movie. 

Well, Chris does bring it up one time when he turns to Buck and asks, “Would you scream like that if I disappeared too?” with honesty only a child can muster. Buck doesn’t really know what to say to this so he grins and promises that he sure would. 

But even though Eddie acts normal, Buck can feel it in the air or when their eyes meet. It’s as if Eddie is screaming to say something but doesn’t want to in front of his son. Buck has no idea what that would be, because there’s no way Eddie could tell from those fast glimpses what really went on inside his head. The repeated mantra of ‘not him, not him, not him’ was not seen in his eyes, he’s sure of that.

If it were, Eddie would’ve caught on earlier. Maybe when he, Eddie, started dating Ana. Or when he broke it off with her. That fire inside of Buck’s soul dimming and glowing stronger was not visible through his eyes, because that would mean he’d lose his best friend. And that was not an option. 

But he’s still nervous when it’s time for Chris to sleep; is this the last time he’ll say goodnight to Chris like this? So when the boy takes Buck’s hand and says, “Can you do it instead of Dad?” he does. Eddie stays in the doorway to Chris’ room, silently watching as Buck tucks the boy in. 

“Buck?” Chris whispers so quietly Buck has to lean forward to hear.

“Yeah?” he whispers back.

Chris reaches for Buck’s face and moves it so he can whisper the words right by his ear. “I think he loves you, too.”

Buck blushes, straightening a bit. “Um, thanks buddy,” he replies, his voice still barely a whisper. He sneaks a glance at Eddie, who thankfully doesn’t appear to have heard the silent conversation. Then louder he adds, “Sleepy time.”

Chris nods happily, and has fallen asleep within three minutes of Buck reading his favorite book. 

As he stands up to leave the room, Eddie enters to give Chris a kiss on the forehead. Buck stays in the living room, not sure if he should take his opportunity to leave or just get this over with so he’ll know if their friendship is ruined or not.  

Before he has made up his mind, Eddie comes out and closes the door behind him. Buck opens his mouth to say something, anything, when Eddie meets his eyes and Buck sucks in a breath. 

“I’ve never seen that before,” Eddie says. Buck doesn’t even question what ‘that’ is, since he can only be talking about the video of Buck screaming at the top of his lungs. 

“No,” Buck says stupidly. “I suppose not.”

“I wish I had though.”

“Oh?” Buck isn’t at all sure where this conversation is going, but for some reason Eddie keeps moving closer to him, so he has no choice but to lean against the wall. 

“Yeah.” Almost chest to chest.

Buck licks his lips and swallows. His stomach does another flip then, because Eddie most certainly followed that movement with his eyes. 

“Why?” Buck asks even though he has difficulties concentrating when all he can think about is if Eddie can feel the beating of his heart when their chests are touching like this. 

“‘cause we could’ve done this much sooner,” he replies and surges up for a kiss. 

Buck gasps, and he can feel the smirk against his own lips. So as soon as his brain has caught up with what’s happening, he pushes off from the wall and flips them as some kind of revenge. He presses Eddie against it instead which makes him groans, and as his lips open Buck takes advantage of that and sneaks inside. 

As they battle together and Eddie’s fingers caress his neck, Buck nudges his thigh in between Eddie’s legs and gets another groan in appreciation; Buck savors that vibration as if he’s starving. 

He feels as if they should slow down, talk about what’s happening, why neither of them has said anything and what’s going to happen next. But then Eddie bites gently in his lower lip, making him moan and Eddie swallows the sound greedily. 

As if it’s the most natural thing in the entire world, he starts to back Eddie into the master bedroom, closing the door with his foot once they are inside.

What the hell, they can talk tomorrow instead. 

[crimsonrae]

Bear and Birdie

Chapter Five

Summary: AU Howard only ever had Birdie to confide in as a child and Steve only ever had Bucky. So, what happens when more than just a supersoldier serum connects these people? Told in a collection of one-shots and flashbacks, rating subject to change.

Bucky BarnesxOFC

Rating: Mature

Chapter Five

1937 Queens, New York

"Hey lady, are you sure you want to be let out here? It ain't exactly a nice neighborhood, you know?"

Elena's eyes pulled from the darkened street to meet the worried gaze of her cab driver. He was nice as far as cab drivers went, smart too. He had picked up that she wasn't from around these parts. Her clothes while simple were well made and clean. Her hair curled and pinned. She presented a well kept facade – a complete contrast from the world outside the cab. She offered him a rueful smile as she gazed out to the club she was to enter. A few men lollygagged outside, smoking and generally just shooting the breeze. For a moment, she contemplated how the night made men seem more sinister.

She sighed, "Yes, this my stop."

The driver opened his mouth to question her again when she opened her purse and handed him his fare, plus a tip. He sighed quietly to himself as he thought of his Millie coming to a place like this by herself. It didn't sit right with him to let out this nice girl. She'd be eatin' alive, "Look, do you want me to come in with ya? Or wait?...this place really isn't safe, doll."

Elena's smile tightened at the pet name and she had to force herself not to react. The man before her was simply trying to be nice. She glanced at the club again, "I shouldn't be longer than twenty minutes and my cousin's inside. He has a car here."

"If you're sure." The cabbie mumbled hesitantly, already planning to stick around to make sure she got out okay.

"I am." Elena replied as she stepped out of the cab without a glance back. She missed the cabbie shaking his head as he watched her stroll up to the club as if she owned the place. He wasn't sure if she didn't notice the leers of the men standing outside or was just ignoring them. God, he hoped his Millie never had reason to come to place like this.

What the cabbie didn't see was the firm icy glare that had fallen over Elena's expression as she headed for the doorman. It was just past midnight and she had been lucky to get a cab at all – but Howard had missed their dinner appointment. Not an unusual event, but his disappearance from his home the past few days, coupled with the stressful events that were currently surrounding Stark Industries and by default Howard. Well...she knew there were only a few places that her cousin would disappear to, in order to relieve his stress.

This was her least favorite place.

The doorman only held her gaze for a split second before he simply took the money she palmed him and let her inside. He could practically feel the irritation wafting off of her and seemed to know better than to question her presence. Elena paid the man little mind as she stepped inside and followed a set of stairs to a basement. The steps seemed to vibrate with the noise of raucous jeering and deep laughter as she grew closer to her destination. She ignored the curious glances she received as she passed a few more men on the stairs and tried not to crinkle her nose as the hefty smells of intermingled tobacco, booze and sweat entered her nose. Normally, those smells didn't bother her, but there was something about smelling it here that made her stomach curl a little.

Finally, she stepped into the room that held a corral of men around a flimsy wooden barrier. A scowl alighted her face as she caught sight of who was inside the barrier. Howard's head snapped to the side as he took a right hook before he danced away. He was taking more hits than making any swings which only made Elena scowl harder. She quickly scrutinized his form as he danced away again. He had removed his shirt for the fight and she could clearly see the bruises that were beginning to form on his torso. It made her nervous and annoyed because she knew he had taken those hits on purpose. Whether he admitted it or not, Howard seemed to get some sick satisfaction out of being beat to a pulp. She blamed his brute of a father for this quirk.

Turning to her right, she made her way to the makeshift bar the underground brawl room hosted and tossed a few coins to the sudo barkeep for a glass of whiskey or rum or whatever was on hand. It was only when she turned back to the fight that Howard spotted her. She nearly smiled grimly as he winced – he knew he was in for an earful. His fight didn't last too much longer – he stopped messing around and finally landed a few hits much to the astonishment of the crowd. The man he was fighting had much more muscle on Howard, but her cousin was quicker. He took another hit, before he managed to knock the other man down to the ground. She wasn't sure if the fight was declared over, but there was a sudden loud barrage of yelling and her view of the ring and cousin were blocked for a few moments. She downed the rest of her liquor and moved around the crowd to find her wayward cousin.

It didn't take her long to find him as he sat slumped in a corner. He had his shirt in one hand and was speaking rapidly to a strange hulk of a man as he glanced about. More than likely he was looking for her. Her eyebrow raised as she watched the man try and pass a small bag to Howard before her cousin waved him off with a few more rapidly spoken words.

"Not going to take your winnings?" She drawled lowly as neared him.

Howard shrugged as he wrestled with his shirt. His movements slow and staccato-like belying the amount of pain he was currently in and she was in no rush to help him, "There's a guy that's fighting next – he's interesting."

Elena frowned in bemusement, "You're betting on someone?"

"Sorta..." Howard grunted as he managed to get one sleeve of his shirt on, but gave up on the other, "Just making sure he gets something when the fight's over."

Her frowned deepened as she looked over the makeshift barrier at the next two men preparing to fight. Her eyes widened as she noted the marked difference between the fighters. One was a moderately tall man with a lean muscular body – she couldn't see his face, but she wasn't much interested as she ogled his arms for a moment. The other man was huge. He reminded Elena of the purported Strong Man that she and Howard would see at the carnivals they went to as children. He even seemed as giant to Elena now as the carnival worker had when she had been much smaller. Horrorstruck, she murmured, "He's going to kill that man."

"Doubtful." Howard muttered as he slumped against the wall, too tired to try and finish putting his shirt on now. He just wanted to rest for a few minutes.

Elena eyed him in exasperation, "You're an idiot."

"Birdie..."

"One of these days, I will find these people carting out your dead body."

"At least, you don't find me unconscious anymore."

"I'm sure if I had arrived 10 minutes later I would've." Elena muttered darkly, as she finally gave into her urges to check his wounds. Quickly and gently she tilted his face into the light to see how badly bruised he would be.

Howard smirked knowingly as he watched her, "You always did ruin my fun."

"You know, I'm beginning to think you enjoy getting punched." Elena said dryly as they fell into their same old routine.

"Beginning?" Howard snorted as he looked glumly back at the ring, "Sometimes you just need to hit something, Birdie. Makes all the difference."

"You're still an idiot."

The boisterous din of the underground brawl room suddenly got much louder and both Howard and Elena looked towards the ring to see the smaller man dragging himself up by the barricade. Blood spilled down the side of his face and Elena gasped as she met steely blue-grey eyes. Despite his ruffled and ruin appearance she couldn't deny his attractiveness. Though he wouldn't remain in that state if he took any more blows to the face.

Howard chuckled lowly as he watched Elena's concern branch out to the stranger in the ring, "Don't worry, Birdie. He puts on a good show."

"Funny, that blood doesn't exactly look fake, Howard." Elena murmured as she cast another look toward the ring and the gargantuan that was barring down on the other fighter.

Howard smirked and resumed tugging at his shirt, "His name's Bobby or Buddy or something. He's one of the better bareknuckle boxers I've seen. I don't think he has much money – it's why he fights. Came in last month and I could see the poor man's ribs. He usually comes out on top."

"Usually." Elena shook her head as she looked over the rest of the crowd, "None of these men have much, but I wished they'd find a better way to make money. Doctors bills aren't kind to these types of wounds."

"That's if they actually go to a doctor."

Elena felt her stomach sink with those words. How many times had they neglected to take Howard to a doctor after one his father's discipline sessions? How many times had these men simply ignored their broken bones to save the few pennies they had made from a fight? She hated this. Biting her lip she didn't look at the ring again as she pulled the other half of Howard's shirt around and helped him slip his arm into the sleeve, "You're pathetic."

"Pathetic and an idiot. I'm really runnin' the gamut tonight." He had to force himself not to quirk a grin at Elena's glare. She may scare others, but he knew his cousin, "How'd you know I'd be here? Why are you here?"

"You missed dinner."

"Ah, a mortal sin."

Elena rolled her eyes, "Just because I've been spending a lot of time on my schoolwork doesn't mean I've been oblivious to what you rant at me." She frowned worriedly and brushed some dry blood from his cheek, "I know you. I know what's been going on at the company. I know what the board and Uncle Leo have told you. Plus I saw mother today -"

Howard's eyes widen comically as he suddenly sat up straight, "You saw Aunt Vitoria and you're just now telling me?"

Elena sent him a dry look, "Well if you had come to dinner, like you were supposed to – especially since that's where she ambushed me."

"Ah, it really is a mortal sin. What did the old hag want?" Howard asked almost jovially.

As she opened her mouth to respond another loud cheer erupted through the room, but this time Elena didn't see anyone dragging themselves into standing position. The gargantuan stood off to the side looking pleased, but she couldn't see his opponent. She was just a few steps away from the barrier before she realized she had even moved. She glanced quickly behind her to see that Howard had the same concerned glint in his brown eyes as she had in her stomach. It was only when she neared the edge of the crowd that she saw the blue-eyed fighter being helped to a bench.

Later, Elena wouldn't be able to recall what exactly possessed her, but she somehow had managed to get a bottle of whiskey and a wet rag from the bartender before appearing at the stranger's side. She could already hear Howard mocking her bleeding heart as she did so. She paused for a breath as she quickly studied him. He was younger than she expected. Closer to her age...She didn't know why she was surprised. Most of the men in here were in there early twenties.

The man had a dazed look on his face as he reached up to touch the nice gash that was gushing on his forehead – wincing as he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

"That was stupid." Elena commented as she caught his gaze. She honestly had no idea what she was going to do as she approached him – falling back onto her usual role of protective lecturer was most easy in that moment. And the most comfortable for her as well.

He started in surprise at the sound of her voice, before easing a chagrinned smile to his lips that she guessed was meant to be charming, "Yeah well, had to see how bad it is."

"I was talking about fighting the walking skyscraper." Elena murmured as she tilted his head back much the same way she did with Howard. Except, Howard's chin wasn't scratchy with evening scruff and didn't cause tingles to travel up her fingers. Her cousin had a few small cuts, but the gash on this man's head would require stitches. She frowned darkly before she pressed the rag against his wound.

He hissed at the sudden sharp pain from her attentions and almost glared up at her, "Yeah well, it was good money."

"You lost." Elena pointed out unimpressed as she silently passed over the bottle of whiskey.

"Had 'im on the ropes." He took it almost suspiciously, though it only took him a quick second to get the bottle open and take a pull, "Who're you?"

"Concerned citizen." She replied blandly as checked to see if the bleeding had stopped, "You should get this looked at."

"I'll be fine." He muttered a little too quickly as he smiled slowly at her, "Though it's nice to have a pretty lady looking after me. You wouldn't happen to be my guardian angel would ya?"

Elena felt her lips twitch with amusement as she tried to stifle a smile, "Sorry, can't say that I own a pair of wings...More partial to horns anyway."

The man nearly choked at her words, before grinning slyly, "Yeah? Nice dame like you?"

"Dame? I'm not royalty." Elena retorted as gestured for him to put his hand on the rag. She glanced over toward Howard to see how If you would like to be tagged in my stories please add yourself to the taglist linked in my bio!!he was doing and nearly snorted as she saw him half-asleep against the wall.

Her new ward followed her gaze and raised a brow, "He your beau?"

Now it was Elena's turn to choke a little as she shook her head, "No, my idiot cousin. Apparently, he felt the need to get punch drunk as well."

She felt more than saw him nod, "I've seen him in here before – never takes the money."

"Hmm."

"Somehow, the guys that fight after him always get that dough." He continued on as he studied his guardian angel's carefully blank face, "You two aren't from around here, are you?"

Elena shrugged, "Depends on what you determine as 'around here'. I should be getting back to him. Take care of yourself..."

"Bucky." He supplied with twinkling eyes – though whether that was from his concussion or not, Elena couldn't guess.

Yet, the name made her pause, "You're joking."

He shook his head, before shrugging, "What's wrong with Bucky?"

"It's a child's name."

"Well I did receive it when I was a child" Bucky pointed out, silently delighting in the muted exasperation in her ocean blue eyes. He had no idea who the woman standing before him was, but he wasn't one to deny the attentions of a beautiful stranger. If he could keep her in engaged in their strange conversation for as long as possible, the better.

"I would say you're not still a child, but I just watched you tousle like one." Elena returned as she smirked at the indignant look that flashed across his face.

"I'm beginning to see those horns you were talking about." Bucky murmured as he pulled the rag away from his head and smiled ruefully at her.

Elena couldn't help, but laugh, "Oh, trust me, this is me being nice. Besides you can't tell me that's what you get the girls to call you."

"How do you think I got this name?" Bucky grinned wickedly, his insinuation more than obvious.

A curious thrill traveled up Elena's spine as she gazed at him, "Now, I know you're joking."

"James Buchanan Barnes. That's my given name." Bucky said sagely as he gave her a pointed look. As if challenging her to find something wrong with his full name.

"So Bucky came from Buchanan, then"

He shook his head firmly destroying any notion that Elena had on his name. A small smile that she couldn't quite identify fell across his lips as he quietly explained, "My dad. He called me Bucky – said I bucked up his day and it just seemed to stick."

"Oh." Elena said quietly as she felt herself soften at the cherished memory. She hadn't missed his use of past tense either.

"No one really uses my given name." Bucky continued as he ignored her sudden understanding glance

"They should, it's a nice name." She met his gaze with a small smile, trying not to blush as his grin turned cocky. She couldn't remember the last time a man had made her blush just by talking.

"You think -"

"Birdie."

Bucky and Elena looked up to see Howard ambling towards them, looking far younger than his eighteen years. Elena for her part, rolled her eyes when she saw that his attention was more on the buttons of his shirt than the conversation he had interrupted. His swollen fingers fiddle with the small piece of plastic, unable to get it through the hole. He finally looked up blearily, "I'm tired."

"Oh?" Elena drawled sagely as she quirked a brow, "Did getting beat to a pulp wear you out?"

Howard scowled, "Don't patronize me."

"He calls you Birdie, and you have a problem with Bucky?" Bucky stated in disbelief as he watched the cousins.

"I don't tell people to call me Birdie. He's the only one that can get away from it." Elena retorted as she watch her cousin analyze the man beside her.

"This is true. The last person to call her Birdie, who wasn't me, ended up with a black eye." Howard stated sagely as grinned winning at Bucky, "You look like a train wreck, no wonder my cousin likes you."

"Howard!"

"She goes for train wrecks, huh?" Bucky asked curiously as he sent her a teasing smile as she glared at him.

Howard shrugged, "I don't think she can help it. She's studying to be a nurse."

"And I'm going to wait in the car." Elena muttered as she watched the boys become quick friends.

"You don't have the keys."

Elena pulled her hand from her purse, "You mean these keys?"

Howard quickly patted his pockets to find that his keys were indeed missing, as was his wallet. He scowled at her, "Thief."

"Brute." She turned with a nod toward Bucky, "It was nice to meet you, James."

Bucky had eased himself into a standing position. Not sure what to do, but knowing that he didn't want her to leave just yet, "Wait, I didn't get your name."

Elena merely smiled slyly at him as wandered to the door while Howard chortled lowly, "Sure you did. It's Birdie."

Bucky blinked as he watched Howard saunter after Elena – not really sure if he would ever see the two cousins again or at the very least if he would ever see her again. They seemed to disappear from the brawl room as quickly as they had appeared to Bucky. So lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't notice Mac approaching him. The older burly man was the only one trusted to act as bookie during the fights. He knew the amount of each purse and who was to get what. His presences wasn't unusual, but the fact that he was approaching Bucky that night was.

"Hey Mac, you getting' busy over there?" Bucky asked as he finally noticed the large man standing next to him.

Mac shook his head, "Same old grind, Buck. This is for you."

Bucky frowned as the bookie held out a leather purse to him. He hadn't expected to win much of anything that night. His opponent had kicked his scrawny ass, after all, "What's this?"

"That rich kid you were talkin' to. It's his winnins from his fight. Said to give it to whoever lost the next one." Mac explained as he pushed the purse at Bucky again, "That would be you."

Hesitantly, Bucky reached out for the bag. It was heftier than he thought it would be. Not much was usually put into the fight purses. He glanced quizzically at Mac, but the older man had already ambled back to his corner of the brawl room. Curiously, he tugged open the purse to see a note laying on top.

Elena Marie Turner.

He smirked as he twisted the paper between his fingers and wondered when exactly when she had the time to slip the note in there.

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[waywardsons-imagines]

Bewitched

Writers - Admin Grace (I don’t know what to call myself other than this now, without sounding lame, so let’s just keep it like this) Characters - Dean, Sam, Reader Pairing - Sam x Reader Summary - Word Count - 2,049 (at least I think, I’m not gonna go back and recheck :D) Warnings - Angst, Sirius Situations (;D), Fluff (is that warnable? it is here! :D), Mentions of self-harm (but.. not as you may think of it as... it’s WITCHERY induced!), Mild cursing A/N - This was a WONDERFUL idea presented to the wonderful @imnoaingeal by the lovely @sarahcrystalheart as a clever little Valentine's Day idea! This was brought to me considering my love and ability to easily write Sam. ^-^

“Hey, Y/n…” Sam began gently.

Looking towards him, you exasperatedly halted your movement across the motel room and just stood there staring dully with exaggeratedly sagging shoulders.

“I don't--”

“--’think you should come with on this one’,” you interrupted. “‘Why don't you sit this one out’.”

You knew you were being a bitch about someone you loved and someone who loved you enough to protect you… but was so fun to mimic him.

You continue to stare at Sam, eyes half-lidded in exasperation - but still taking silent joy that you amused him with your over exaggerated “bossy Sam voice”.

“Please?” He asks quietly, walking over to you and taking your hand in his ginormous one, staring down at you expectantly.

You pulled up a corner of your mouth, to a lopsided disappointed expression, as your eyes peered up into his.

You wanted to protest; to join him and Dean...

But the tone of Sam’s wasn't the usual placid plea… The one where he knew you’d win in the end.

His face was somber and serious, his gaze carrying something heavier. Something you couldn't really identify.

You opened your mouth, about to ask what was bothering him, when Dean opened the door to the motel.

He hesitated slightly at the sight of the two so close together, but he shrugged it off awkwardly and made his usual joke: “Honestly, guys, keep it in your pants,” he snickered - again, as he always did. “I'm still here, and that's against the ‘What You Can and Can’t Do in Front of Dean’ guidelines.”

Sam and you let out your usual sarcastic “oh, ah-hah ah ha” response and watched as Dean made his way to his duffle. Grabbing it, he quickly glanced to Sam before he high-tailed it out of there.

Sam’s hand hadn't left yours, and now that Dean was out of the room again, it tightened and his other hand rested lightly upon your jaw, bringing your attention back to him.

“Please,” he repeats, this time emphasized.

The corners of your mouth pulled back in distaste before you finally managed to ask what was bothering him.

“You don't remember the last time you faced a witch with us?” He asks, almost bewildered - almost shocked - that you didn’t remember.

You glanced to your right, furrowing your brow as you tried to dance around what Sam was implying. You knew… but you kept... forgetting recently. On purpose? By chance? Who knew.

Sam’s patient, however, and waited as you eventually - in the span of around thirty seconds - “remembered”.

“Oh,” you breath, almost annoyed, as the memory was brought forth explicitly. Your eyes widen a bit - to sell it to Sam - and then your eyes bored into Sam’s chest (the area you were eye level with).

Your brow was furrowed and you were gnawing at your bottom lip - truly anxious now. You felt Sam’s hand move towards your chin to redirect your gaze to him again.

Sam’s eyebrows were furrowed in the worried way they always seemed to be in, and his eyes shifted from both of yours.

You clenched your jaw, not wanting to talk. Clearing your throat, you tugged yourself from Sam’s grip as gently as you could without being rude.

“Be safe, yeah?” You forced out, going to your duffle. You were gonna get dressed in your long untouched pajamas and fall asleep to a telenovela or something… you needed to think about something else.

“‘ey,” Sam replied, grabbing for your hand quickly, pulling you back in his direction. You looked up at him, but couldn't look directly into his eyes. You looked over his right ear - close enough to seem like you were looking at his face.

“Look,” Sam continued softly, letting go of you once he was sure you wouldn't leave your spot. “I'm sorry I had to bring it up, but you understand why I want you to stay here…?”

You shook your head vigorously, looking to your feet like a chastised child. “No, no… I know,” you stammer, suddenly feeling tinier than you already were (at least compared to Sam). “Just… be safe.”

You and Sam hug briefly, and he's off.

Sighing, you sit on your bed; feeling sapped - and sad now.

You hated witches... Possibly even more than Dean did, and that's saying something - isn’t it?

It must've been hours… because it felt like a full day until you heard the distinct rumble of the Impala’s engine.

You could practically feel the relief flooding your veins, your blood cooling almost. But, at the same time, you knew to prepare yourself for at least some blood…

You heard one car door creak open loudly and slam just the same, and this left you wondering where the second creak and slam of the passenger door went… they were usually in tandem…

After overhearing Dean’s heavy footsteps upon the gravel of the motel parking lot, you relaxed when you finally heard it.

Rrrk! Crrk! Slam!

You didn't know what to expect after this hunt. You especially didn't expect to find Dean leading a large - beautiful - dog into the room by the scruff of its neck…

“What the he-…” you trail off, looking at the dog then up at Dean, confused.

You were even more confused when Dean shut the door behind him and locked it.

The question of where Sam was was on the tip of your tongue, but at Dean’s sarcastic half-smile and aggravated, “Yea. I know.” - you stayed quiet.

Dean let go of the scruff of the dog and immediately the canine let out a distressed yelp, pacing back and forth before coming up to you, rutting his head against your bladder - basically. Grunting, and severely confused, you try to ward off the large dog as you pestered Dean, looking for the answers you felt you deserved.

“Y/n!” Dean snaps, looking up from his highly frustrated position, on the foot of his bed, having his head in his hand. “Stop! Just stop-!... Askin’...”

Dean’s voice had lost its edge by the last word, when he saw the face you made at his raised voice - one of further confusion and slight hurt.

At another yelp, and slight growl, of the dog below you, Dean snapped - this time saying words you didn't expect to hear: “Shut up, Sammy! I didn't mean to yell.”

You looked wide-eyed from Dean to the large Husky-type dog in front of you.

You knelt down swiftly, cupping the face of the creature before you, and your jaw hit the floor.

The dog had the most unnaturally hazel eyes for a Husky.

“Sam?” You exclaim shrilly, causing Dean to wince and Sam’s(??) ears laid flat against his head as he whined slightly.

“What the fuck happened, Dean?” You roared, standing straight abruptly, your fists clenched.

Sam began barking small boofs, pacing between the two of you - surely trying to disengage you from doing anything rash.

“Don't blame me, honey, blame the hags that we came here to gank!” Dean roared back with no hesitance, obviously very agitated that Sam was a dog.

Dean stood and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I'm callin’ Bobby,” he announced gruffly. “Outside. You two wait here.”

You sat at the foot of your bed - as your body suddenly had become too heavy for your wobbly legs to carry - as you stared at the dusty patterns on the outdated carpet.

Sam - should you even call him that? - kept pacing around, stumbling every few steps before he finally went straight forward to you and butted his head against the hands hanging from your forearms’ place on your knees.

This startled you somehow and your arms jolted, accidentally causing you to swat Sam’s snoot.

At his soft yelp, you let out a weird, pathetic and guilty cry. “Shit!” You hissed, startled. “I'm so sorry, Sam, I -- shit…”

You had grabbed the large amount of fur around his face, and your other hand went to clear the hair from your face.

You felt scattered. You couldn't get a grip on your thoughts or your actions, so - there you were; acting like an absolutely scatter-brained idiot… an idiot in the face of something potentially very fucking bad.

Shaking your head clear, you moved your body to where Sam was between your legs and you brought him closer so that you could embrace his large - practically vibrating - body.

You settled your cheek against the broad skull of the Husky, and took comfort in his breathing.

He was okay. He was fine. He wasn't hurt, per se…

Take comfort in that, you thought to yourself as you wept.

You again felt guilty. Just sitting there, staining Sam’s fur with your tears, but - dammit - you couldn't help it. What if he stayed like this??

You suddenly felt Sam’s head wrestle with your hold gently just before a warm wetness lapped at your exposed forearms - you had shoved the long sleeves of your pajama shirt up just a minute earlier.

You looked down, sniffling pathetically as you watched the dog lick your multiple scars - your evidence of your past struggle with witches, actually.

It had been a year or two since the incident. You and the boys had been hunting down the source for multiple “suicides” in a town. The witch’s only fault? Choosing the wrong people.

It started as a mild itching - you hadn't even noticed it under your FBI blazer… you thought you were having a reaction to your blouse…

It was when an elderly grandmother of one of the victims drew your attention to it that you noticed your arms were bleeding quite profusely.

When you had lifted your sleeves in the privacy of her bathroom you saw that there was nothing there causing the bleeding. This had perplexed you, but you decided not to mention it… at all. To anyone.

You had changed your blouse before either Winchester saw you, and you all went on to finish the case - as you always did.

It was the fifth night of being in the town when you had woken up in the middle of the night and went into the bathroom you shared with the Winchesters seeking to scratch an itch that was slowly driving you insane - with your knife in hand.

You had woken up to blood-stained… everything… and Sam legitimately scooping you into his arms, screaming at Dean to “get into the car!!”

You hardly noticed the scars now… but there were moments… low moments - when you felt the weight of the knife against your skin and wondered how…

How it would feel again.

Those were usually the days you wore long sleeves and listened only to The Bangles - seeing as you smuggled those tapes onto Dean's collection (he didn't mind apparently).

Seeing Sam… just… lickin’ something so... crucial to you… while in the most ridiculously adorable skin of something potentially horrible and unchangeable?

Suddenly, this seemed so much more funnier.

Sam - the adorable bastard - had his tail wagging as you laughed softly, wiping your tears with the sleeve of your thermal shirt like a small, naïve, sniffling child.

See? He was saying. I understand. It can happen to anyone.

Damn him, you thought with another tearful laugh.

Damn him for knowing one of the main reasons you beat yourself up about the scars was your lack of caution that hunt.

You were stroking the satin fur of his forehead gently, causing the hazel eyes to slide shut and his tongue loll out in - you didn't know what.

“Gross,” you murmured endearingly, smiling a watery smile at the dog sitting before you.

Suddenly the door opened abruptly, revealing a much calmer Dean.

“Okay,” he began quietly.

“I'm gonna need your help, Y/n…” he said hesitantly, his eyes jumping from you, to Sam, and back.

You hadn't taken your eyes off Sam, but when you finally did - you felt stronger somehow.

“I don't think I can deal with bestiality, Dean,” you joked softly, but with resolve. “So, just tell me what I can do.”