#and the poppies start to look more like blood on his hands… scar’s blood ok his hands…

[rosaacicularis]

grian not being able to stomach the thought of purple because of the watchers vs scar unknowingly and inadvertently teaching grian to love it because of the lilacs <3

[nessieart]

TEETH pt. 13

|| The Price of Freedom ||

Eventual Tony x Reader

WC: 5.5k (again!?)

AN: Ok um, look. It’s a lot and oops? And listen here, CA:TWS is my favorite mcu movie ok? And we’re in it now. I wasn’t really sure i wanted to go this route, but now i am. Don’t worry, there’ll be more Tony soon! Promise! Thanks for following along with me and my writing journey! It means a lot to me! Enjoy.

Warnings: Canon level violence, cursing, depictions of violence, blood, guns, made up fantasy elements most likely. No y/n used. Nickname usage: Flowers, Poppy. Not proof read, it’s a hot mess!

Summary: This whole ordeal isn’t what you thought it was.

Masterlist

Previous || First || Next

Begi, lepestok.

Run, little Petal.

The Soldier, James - Bucky - whoever he was, looked over his shoulder briefly and then back down at you. He releases your hand, wiping the tears away from your face with his flesh hand.

"Don't let them see your tears," his voice is rough and slightly accented, and he lets his metal fingers fall from your chin. You vaguely remember him speaking another language the first time you -literally- ran into him.

He steps away from you, back in the middle of the room, next to the chair. It's unsettling the longer you look at it. You hear footsteps echoing down the hall that make you pause.

You go back to sit on the cold table a few feet away from the soldier and the daunting chair. It takes some effort but you manage to sit, still clutching at your stomach. Seems like the broken ribs have started healing at least.

In the next second, men in white lab coats enter the room, they pay you no mind as they guide the Soldier into the chair and take scissors to his shirt and cut it from him. You notice he's staring off blankly into nothingness as the men work around him. They connect the wires to something and they put it around his right arm, the monitors behind him come to life and you can see scans of his body and skull, his pulse and heart are also monitored; it’s steady and slow.

Then you notice the red angry scars along his left shoulder. The metal of his arm looks forcibly fused to his skin and it makes your stomach churn. And you have to remember this is Steve's Bucky, his best friend since they were kids. And you wonder what happened to him that they put that arm on him.

You wonder why he doesn't seem to remember anything. Steve, you, what he did to your brothers, and even himself. He didn't react in any way when you called him by his first name. Not physically anway.

One man pulls over a tray and brings the metal arm up and unhinges a piece of plating on the Soldier's arm and begins repairs. There's small sparks that fly around as he solders things together. The whirring of the metal arm is low as repairs are being made.

You shift a little on the table, and the Soldier notices your movement and he looks at you without moving his head, his expression is blank.

“Bucky?” You whisper, knowing he’ll hear you. His eyes go wide and the spike of his heartbeat is heard on a monitor behind him, his chest heaves and he looks around the room in a panic.

In the next second, some of the STRIKE team comes into the room, rifles in their hands as they move around the room, guarding you or the Soldier, you couldn’t be sure. One of them comes to stand next to you and he places a collar around your neck. He sneers at you when your eyes glow but he just clamps the collar on you anyway.

It’s silver, you notice, a jolt of pain goes through you the longer you try to keep your eyes alight. You go to reach up and touch it, but a few feet away from you you hear a loud zap and the whirring of a metal arm and the Soldier punches the man that was repairing his arm across the room. All the members of STRIKE draw their rifles up and point them at the Soldier.

His chest is heaving as he sits upright, hands clenched into fists, the metal arm whirs and groans as he flexes it. Everyone stands on baited breath, waiting for the Soldier to make a move, he relaxes his posture and slumps forward, resting his arms on his knees. That vacant look returns to his eyes and he stares off again.

A few moments later, you can hear a few footsteps coming closer to the vault you’re in, and in steps Pierce, with Rumlow and other members of STRIKE behind them. You haven’t seen Leon yet and you hope he’s ok. Hope he’s somewhere far away from all this.

Rumlow looks over to you, as Pierce comes to a stop in front of the Soldier, there’s concern on his face and he sees the collar around your neck. He comes to stand near you.

“How are you feeling?” He says quietly, and you scoff, looking away from him. “Your brother’s back at HQ, in case you were wondering.” He moves back to stand behind Pierce. You stare at his back, eyebrows pulled together, why would he say that? Why does he care?

Pierce then backhands the Soldier across the face hard after he doesn’t respond. The Soldier looks up through his hair that’s fallen into his face, his eyes still vacant and crystal.

“The man on the bridge…who was he?” The soldier’s voice strains and his eyes turn to you briefly before they go back to Pierce.

Pierce sighs, “You met him earlier this week on another assignment.” He goes to sit on a stool in front of the Soldier.

“I knew him,” he swallows thickly and you can see the flicker of something behind his eyes.

“Your work has been a gift to mankind,” Pierce goes on to say. And you snort behind him, it’s ignored. “You shaped the century, and I need you to do it one more time.” You look at Bucky now, his eyebrows crease and it looks like he’s struggling with something.

“But I knew him,” and you see it then, the crystal may clear from his eyes as they seem more blue now. And you realize that the Winter Soldier and Bucky Barnes are one. HYDRA just scooped and carved out what made Bucky himself. He looks at you - eyes wide - and it makes your heart hurt. And you can’t move or do anything to save him from these horrid men, because you’re helpless with the collar on. And you don’t think you could survive another bullet from one of those guns.

Pierce turns to look at the lab tech, “Prep him.”

The man stutters a moment, “He’s been out of cryo-freeze too long.”

Cryo? They were putting him on ice? No wonder he wasn’t aging all these years. What the fuck were they doing to him?

“Then wipe him and start over,” Pierce gets up and moves out of the way. He finally looks at you and a dark smirk takes over his face.

You look over at Bucky and his heart rate has spiked again, the fear in his eyes is all consuming as he stares back at you. Then he’s pushed back roughly and a mouth guard is placed in his mouth. A loud clank sounds out as the metal straps keep him in place, the machine whirs to life and the halo above the chair begins to descend.

You watch in horror as nodes of electricity spark and go to cover his face, and as they lock into place, Bucky lets out the most bone chilling screams you’ve ever heard. As he continues to scream, Pierce and the STRIKE team begin to leave. There’s tears flowing down your face and you don’t try to stop them.

“Stop,” you say weakly. No one seems to hear you over the deafening screams. “Stop it!” You say a little louder. You hobble off the table and go to push one of the lab techs away from the chair, “Enough! What are you doing to him!?”

There’s a jolt that runs through you, just enough that it knocks the wind out of you and you fall to your knees. Of course the collar has a shock system in it. You pant as you look up at Bucky, his voice is starting to go hoarse the longer he screams in agony.

-*-

It’s some time later, you don't even know the time. Was it night still, or was it morning? You’re still sitting on the floor where they left you, too tired and worn out to bother moving.

You tried to get Bucky's attention but after whatever they did to him in that chair, it's like he's a completely different person. No, not a person, a machine. The Winter Soldier has taken over and his eyes are vacant again.

The techs had given the Soldier a new tac-suit, much like the one he wore yesterday. Or earlier today? The straps pulled tight around his torso, all black gear, his arm a stark contrast against his outfit gleaming in the lights.

Someone had come in and said a phrase or words in Russian, you weren’t sure, and instantly the Soldier responded instantly, “Gotov vypolnit,” and it sent a shiver down your spine.

It’s so jarring, the man before you was nothing like the man a couple hours ago who was screaming so harsh and loud his voice had gone hoarse. The techs had left, only 2 members of STRIKE were left in the room, but they were conversing quietly in a corner. The soldier stood before you, and you leaned your head back to look at him, a sort of deja vu passed before your eyes and you hoped he experienced it too. His facial expression was blank as he crouched down before you, lifting a metal hand to the collar around your neck

“Hey! Don’t touch that!” One of the agents shouted. The soldier pays them no mind as his fingers dig into the space between your neck and the offending item and he squeezes. The whirring of his arm is subtle, the collar cracks and bends under the pressure of his hand and he yanks it off you with ease.

You instantly feel ten times better once the silver is off you, you sigh in relief and put your hand on the soldier’s silver one and look up at him, “thank you,” you say quietly.

There’s a commotion behind you as the STRIKE agents pull up their rifles and aim them at you, yelling commanding orders for the Soldier to stand down and for you to lay on the ground. There’s a guttural growl from the soldier as he places himself between you and the agents, his fists clench and you can tell he wants to reach for a weapon, but he refrains.

You stand and put your hands on the soldier’s arm, he looks at you over his shoulder, “Begi,” he tells you and you nod. You look out towards the exit of the vault you're in, you can see early morning rays shine through the windows, that had to be the way out. You squeeze the soldier’s arm once and back away, and shift, a few bones cracking into place, that silver bullet and collar definitely did a number on you.

The STRIKE agents certainly weren’t expecting the soldier to defend you, and they certainly weren’t expecting you to turn into a giant coyote and haul ass out of the vault in a blur.

-*-

You had run for a few miles before you were sure you weren’t being followed. You aren’t sure what possessed the Soldier to help you escape, but you won’t question it now.

As you make your way towards the Potomac, you can see the Triskelion in the distance. You hope Leon’s alright. If Rumlow was to be believed, then you’re sure he is. After all, you’d feel if something happened to him. Right?

The sun had barely come up as you reached the back entrance of SHIELD HQ. Everything seems to be fine on the outside, nothing out of the ordinary, agents going about their early morning routines.

You find the stairwell near the back exit you came through and quietly make your way up, the large floor numbers painted on the walls outside each door made it easier to keep track. As you round the next flight of stairs you come face to face with Steve, Sam, and a woman you haven't met before. But by the smell of her she's with them.

Steve’s in a uniform you swore you’ve seen before but can’t place, a helmet on his head covers his eyes as well, his shield hung up on his back. Sam’s in his Falcon outfit, the wings compact in its backpack, his goggles up on his head.

You all freeze and stare at each other for a beat, then Steve relaxes his stance and crouches down, bending one knee and placing the other on the floor.

"God, Flowers, you had us all worried," Steve says, he spreads his arms out and you rush to him, jumping up and licking his chin that's exposed. He chuckles and gives you a hug, one hand running down your back through your fur. "Don't ever do something like that again, Natasha's been pretty upset."

"Upset?" Sam asks incredulously, "How can you tell the difference between normal and upset?" He laughs and pats your head when you jump up to him next. "Glad you're okay, girly," he says softly.

"Uh, guys?" The woman that is with them gives them both a look, and then looks down at you, "what the hell is going on?"

Steve then goes to tell her, Maria he said her name was, that you were the friend they have been worried about since they split up from you yesterday near the bridge. Steve also tells you that Fury's alive, which you make a noise at and he goes on to tell you their plans.

"We have the launch codes to alter the helicarrier Insight targets. They all must be put in for them to work," Maria explains. "I'll be in the control room, while Sam and Steve put the chips into the systems on all three ships." You assume she still can't believe she's talking to an oversized coyote, who nods after her statement, but she doesn't let it show.

Maria brings her pack off her shoulders and places it on the ground as she kneels, "Natasha told me to bring extra clothes, just in case, and she didn't say for what. But now that I see you, I guess I know now." The pack opens and there's a pile of clothes in it, tac-gear that may be a little big, but you could make it work, a pair of boots and a holster with a gun.

Steve and Sam turn around after Maria shows you the clothes, and you shift. Maria makes a noise of surprise and swiftly turns around to let you get dressed.

As you put the new underwear and sports bra on, you notice a long jagged scar along your stomach. That must be where they pulled the bullet out of and stitched you up. You prod it and it stings, more than it should you think, and hiss in pain.

Steve glances over his shoulder warily and notices the pink scar on your back that matches the one on the front, "was that from the bullet?"

"Must be," you mumble. You twist your body to look at the scar on your back, “I don’t remember the bullet going through me though…” Steve gives you a worried look, but you shrug it off.

You pull the jumpsuit up over your legs, then your torso, and push your arms through. It’s similar to Maria’s, you notice, a deep blue one piece jumpsuit with a SHIELD logo on the left shoulder. It’s a little baggy on your frame, and you roll up the sleeves to your elbows and to your shins, then shove your feet into the boots. The gun holster goes around your waist, and you check the ammunition in the pistol before putting it away.

“Where do you need me?” You ask, following Steve once he sees you’re finished getting dressed. Your group ascends the stairs to the control room’s floor, you keep pace with Steve, Maria behind you and Sam bringing up the rear.

Steve looks down at you for a moment as he thinks, “Stay with Maria,” he says, and then raises a hand as you go to object, “please, I can’t be out there worried about you again,” he places his hand on your shoulder. So you relent and nod, the serious look on Steve’s face makes you think better of disagreeing with Captain America.

Your group comes to a halt outside the control room door, you can hear chatter on the inside. Maria brings out ear comms for you, Steve and Sam, then she pressed a button on what looks like a controller. You can hear a screeching noise and people yelling in surprise. Then Steve uses his shield to knock on the door, a loud clang sounds out against the metal door.

Sam and Maria step forward on either side of Steve with their guns drawn. You bare your claws, your hands and forearms sprouting fur as your claws come out.

The door opens revealing an agent rubbing at his ear and when he sees your group, he goes to grab his gun but Steve holds up a hand to stop him. A low growl leaves your throat as Sam and Maria take aim at him.

"Excuse us,” Steve says and walks through the door once the tech steps to the side. You follow Sam and Maria in, Maria makes a move with her gun and the rest of the techs in the room make a run for the exit.

Once the last person leaves, and it's just your group left, Maria goes to the console and types a few commands, then steps to the side and hands the mic for the intercom system over to Steve.

He leans down to hold the button, and in his Captain America voice (you like to call it) he takes a deep breath, “Attention, all SHIELD agents. This is Steve Rogers. You’ve heard a lot about me over the last few days, some of you were even ordered to hunt me down, but I think it’s time for you to know the truth,” he looks back at your group, and you give him an encouraging nod before he continues. “SHIELD is not what we thought it was, it’s been taken over by HYDRA. Alexander Pierce is their leader. They could be standing right next to you.

“They almost have what they want: absolute control. They shot Nick Fury, and it won’t end there. If you launch those Helicarriers today, HYDRA will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way, unless we stop them.

“I know I'm asking a lot, but the price of freedom is high, it always has been. And it's a price I’m willing to pay, and if I’m the only one, then so be it. But I’m willing to bet I’m not.”

You swear you have chills from Steve’s big speech, there’s a wide grin on your face as Steve stands back up to his full height.

“Did you write that down first, or was that off the top of your head?” Sam grins, and elbows you when you giggle at him.

Maria makes her way up to the control console, wheeling over a chair and placing a headset on her head. She hits a switch on the headset, “Channel 3, secure,” you can hear her in the ear piece she gave the group.

Steve gives a nod, he and Sam make their way to the exit to put their override chips in the Helicarriers. Before they reach the door, you grab their hands, one of their hands in one of yours. They both stop and look down at you.

“Be careful, both of you,” you say and give their hands a squeeze. They hug you from the side, Steve a little longer than Sam. “He’s in there, Steve,” you tell him softly, he inhales sharply and gives you another squeeze before he lets you go. “Promise me you’ll both come back in one piece, ok?”

With one final nod, both Steve and Sam are out the door.

-*-

You’re sitting next to Maria, trying not to seem anxious or bother her from her monitoring the camera feeds and the progress on the Helicarriers launch. Then you feel a sharp pain in your right leg, it feels like you’ve been stabbed, but no blood is oozing out when you pull your hand away.

“What is it?” Maria asks you, her brows pulled together as she looks you over. You shake your head, gritting your teeth through the pain. Then another searing pain shoots through you on your left shoulder, and you cry out and fall to the floor. “Talk to me, what’s going on? Cap?" Maria brings her hand to her ear to get Steve's attention.

“No. It-it's fine. I-I don’t know,” you grit out, “feels like I was stab— oh no, Leon,” you look up at Maria and she rolls back over to the console, typing away and changing surveillance cameras around SHIELD. You make your way over to her, peering over her shoulder as the footage scrolls by. Then you see him, in a stairwell on the other side of the building, and you point to one of the monitors, “There! That’s him. I’m going to get him,” you adjust the holster on your hip and jog to the far side of the room to the opposite exit you all entered from.

Maria calls your name and you turn back to her, “Be careful, the last thing I need is an earful from Cap,” and she winks. You smile and nod at her and continue out the door.

“Eight minutes, Cap,” you can hear Maria say over comms.

“Working on it,” Steve replies, he seems out of breath, only a little.

The pain in your shoulder and leg are persistent as you race down the corridor that leads you to the stairwell you’re sure your brother is in. When you burst through the metal door for the stairs you can smell the copper scent of blood, you run to the railing and look down.

“Leon!” You yell, and it echoes. You go to call again but you hear something above you, so you sprint up the stairs three at a time until you see a trail of blood at the base of a set of stairs. “Oh, Gods.”

Two flights up, Leon is on the floor, leaning against a door, one hand gripping his leg above a knife sticking out of it, and the other slung over himself to barely stop the bleeding from his shoulder. You rush to him then, almost slipping in the pool of blood that has gathered around him. Your hands are frantic as you can’t decide what to do with them, wondering if you should even touch him yet.

“Sunny, baby, can you hear me?” You reach out and graze your fingers along his cheek, his eyes flutter open and his head lolls to the side. He smells like anything but sunshine and roses now. His sweet scent is marred by copper and burnt leaves.

When he sees you, he lets out a weak laugh, a slow smile making it onto his handsome face, “Kn-knew you’d be ok, Fl-flowers,” he says slowly. You can see blood on his teeth, “Fel-felt the bullet rip right through me,” he lifts a bloodied hand up to your face and you grasp it, and lean into his touch.

"What can I do, Sunny? We have to stop the bleeding," you go to take hold of the knife still lodged in his leg but the small whimper that leaves his lips makes you pause. "Sunny-"

"It's…silver," he huffs out. Your eyes go wide and you pull your hand back. “Sorry about the pain,” he grimaces, and you let out a humorless chuckle.

“I don’t give a shit about the pain, Leon, I’m worried about you!” And without another word you lean forward and yank the knife from his leg, you both yell out in pain. You throw the knife over the railing behind you and rip a piece of Leon’s shirt off to wrap around his leg. “Let’s get you moving,” and you lift his uninjured arm over your shoulders and lift him up, his whines in protest but you could care less. Your first priority is getting Leon to safety, everything and everyone else could wait.

“Flowers, what about Insight, and —“

“Please, Sunny, you’re always my first priority,” you tell him as you make your way down the stairwell to the ground floor. So far you’ve tuned out what was happening outside with Steve and Sam, you can’t think about them right now.

“Falcon, Flowers?” Maria says over the comms. You come to a halt in the middle of the stairs. Leon barely notices when you do, all his weight is on you and you adjust him slightly.

“Yeah?” Sam replies.

“Here, what is it, Hill?”

“Rumlow’s headed for the Council,” she says. There’s a beat and Sam answers before you can and you sigh in relief.

“Take care of that brother of yours girly, we got this.”

“Thanks, Sammy, I owe you,” you tell him, and you guide Leon back down the stairs. You’re at floor 30 when Leon asks you to take a breather, you set him down and he leans his head against the wall. At least the bleeding stopped on his leg, you think. His shoulder is a little worse for wear, but most of the blood has stopped oozing now. You brush the hair out of Leon’s face, and he drags his eyes up to your face, it almost seems it takes all his strength to do so.

“How ya feeling, baby brother?” You ask him, and he gives you a lazy smile. His eyes shift to the side and he sits up straight, a forced growl rumbles his chest and the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. When you turn to see what Leon’s looking at, you see Rumlow on the landing below you. His gun is raised as he makes eye contact with you, his eyes squint and he frowns. You put yourself in front of your brother as Rumlow ascends the stairs, lowering yourself in a defensive stance. Your claws come out and fur ripples through from your fingers to your elbow and your eyes glow bright.

“Not another step, asshole,” you growled. Rumlow is a few steps away from you, he raises his hands, gun in his right and finger off the trigger. He steps to get around you and you growl again.

“Easy, easy,” he hedges, “easy there, girl. I’m not sure how you got out of the vault or away from the Asset, but it won't matter much soon,” he smirks. He gets around you and slowly backs up the stairs away from you and Leon. You let him go, you can’t put your brother in any more danger than he is.

After Rumlow is out of sight, you get Leon back to his feet and help him down the stairs again. You exit on floor 25 and decide the elevator would be the best to get the hell out of SHIELD HQ as fast as you could. You’re about half way down when you turn your ear comm back on.

“People are gona die, Buck. I can’t let that happen…Please, don’t make me do this.” Steve pleads. And it hurts to hear him sound so defeated, he really doesn’t want to fight the Soldier, you could tell.

“What’s happening up there?” Leon asks as he looks out the elevator. You join him and lean your head on his shoulder. The helicarriers are rapidly ascending in the sky, and you hope Steve can get the last chip in before it's too late.

“They’re fighting,” you tell him. You can hear the fighting in your ear, Steve struggling in his fight with his best friend-turned-mind-controlled-assassin. You turn to face Leon as the elevator nears the ground floor and you’re determined to tell him who the Soldier is.

“30 seconds, Cap!”

“Stand by. Charlie…-“ a gunshot goes off in your ear and you squeak in surprise, whipping around to look up at the Helicarrier you think Steve is on.

You put your finger to your ear, “Steve!? Steve, are you ok? Oh, Gods.” After a few moments you can hear his grunt as he begins to move. The elevator has reached the lobby but you make no effort to move. Your brother crowds in you on and wraps his uninjured arm around you.

“Ch-Charlie locked,” Steve says weakly into the comms, and you sigh in relief, leaning into Leon.

“Ok, Cap, get out of there,” Maria says, you can hear her frantic typing.

“Fire now,” Steve replies.

“But, Steve…”

“Do it! Do it now!”

“Steven Grant! You promised me!” You yell, tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

Steve says your name softly, and you sniffle back a sob, a tear escaping, “I can’t leave him,” he says, you hear shuffling and then the sound of Steve crushing his earpiece. A moment later the helicarriers begin opening fire on each other.

“No…” you place a hand on the glass, staring wide eyed up at the destruction.

“Flow, we gotta go,” Leon grips your shoulders to lead you out of the elevator and you relent. You wipe the tears from your eyes and help Leon jog as best he can away from HQ and the fire raining down from the sky just outside.

“You should Shift, it’ll be easier for you to run that way,” you tell him as you shoulder the back exit door open. Leon gives you a look and you roll your eyes. “I can keep up with you just fine like this. Do it.” Now he rolls his eyes at you, but he agrees. He Shifts, and you can hear his bones crack into place trying to heal his wounds.

You forgot how much bigger his form is than yours when he Shifts, you run to keep up with him, you both make your way across the bridge behind the Triskelion. You can hear explosions above you and try your best not to pay them any attention. You can’t let yourself think of Steve or Bucky still on one of those Helicarriers.

When you get across the bridge, you look back, and when you do a hellicarrier just crashes into the building. You go to reach for your earpiece, but it’s gone. It must have fallen out while you were running and you hadn’t noticed. There’s a tug on your sleeve and you look over to your brother, his eyes look worried as he looks at you. You place a hand on his head and nod towards the river.

“Let’s head up river, try and stay off the main road for now,” you tell him, you both make your way to the riverbank, putting as much distance between you and the burning remains of SHIELD as you can. “We can head back to your apartment, get some things together, and get the hell out of D.C..” Leon snorts at you as he trots beside you. “Oh yeah? You got a better idea, smart ass?” You nudge him with your hip.

-*-

You’re a few miles up river when you see a silver gleam out the corner of your eye, and when you turn your head you can see the Soldier walking towards you, his head turned down. He looks soaking wet and you wonder if he swam all the way from SHIELD to here. And then you see a lump of blue further up the riverbank.

“Steve!” You shout and run to him. You must have startled the Soldier because you hear his metal arm whir to life and his stance becomes defensive as you near him. Leon’s a few steps behind you and he growls. You come to a stop a few feet from the soldier and raise your hands up. “Do you remember me?” You ask, and he studies you for a moment, his nose flares, and he nods his head once, and he looks over at your brother who is still growling. You can see the soldier is favoring his left side, his right arm tucked tight into his side, he must have hurt it when he and Steve were fighting.

“Are you ok?” You ask him, the soldier’s brows crease and he stares wide eyed at you like you said something he’s never heard before. There’s a nudge to your hand and you place it on your brother's head. “This is Leon,” you tell the Soldier. “My brother.” The soldier just shifts on his feet, still wary of you both. “I’m going to go check on Steve now,” you say slowly, and take a step forward, Leon hasn’t stopped the low growl since you came upon the Soldier.

“Take care of yourself, James,” you say softly as you pass him by, he doesn’t acknowledge you and begins to make his way down stream and through a field before you lose sight of him. You rush to Steve’s side, he’s soaking wet and it looks like he's coughed up water. There’s cuts all over his face and bruises forming, you’re sure his right eye is swollen shut and his cheekbone is shattered. There’s blood stains around what looks like a bullet hole in his stomach, and you press your hand down on it.

“Steve, can you hear me?” You brush his hair back gently, his eyes flutter but they don’t open. You can hear a helicopter in the distance, and you look up to find it making its way in your direction. “Hold on, honey, help’s on the way.”

-*-

AN: Thank you for taking the time to read this hot mess of a story!! It means so much to me!

[myrapottah]

𝒉.𝒑. 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 - 𝑱𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚, 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒚

Title : 'Jealousy, jealousy'

Summary : After the war, harry proposes to y/n and ginny is jealous about it

Warnings : mentions of war, blood, hospital stuff, mostly angst for ginny, fluff for y/n and harry

A/n: this is kinda trashy idk, I like to write angst but I never read angst so don't expect Shakespeare 😶

Words: around 0.6k

masterlist

This is written from ginny's perspective, sorry ginny I love you:(

When she saw her boyfriend killing Voldemort, ginny was relieved. She finally could spend time with him, get a house, dance in the rain, kiss, live happily ever after. But her fate didn't want it like that. Right after Harry destroyed his rival, y/n ran in his hands and hugged him, in the verge of breaking him. But ginny's attention was looking straight at the fact that Harry was holding her even tighter, telling her to wrap her legs around his torso. And she did so. Everyone was getting closer, congratulating and thanking Harry and y/n. Ginny took a few steps forward to see what was happening, and saw Harry kissing y/n passionately before she fainted.

-time skip-

Ginny woke up in the hospital wing, overthinking about everything . "Did Harry lost his feelings for me? Why did he kiss y/n and not me? Is y/n better then me? Yn here, y/n there, y/n everywhere. Y/n, y/n, y/n." Her troughts were cut by Madam Pomfrey, who observed that she woke up.

"Here, dear, drink this", she passed ginny a red potion, and she took it.

"Thanks, Poppy"

"Madame Pomfrey for you"

Ginny was exhausted. For everything she did, she still wasn't same respected and loved as y/n. Then, they rushed into the room. Harry and y/n. Harry fucking Potter holding y/n in brydal style.

"Madam Pomfrey, help" he said with concerned eyes while placing y/n on a hospital bed.

"Oh my god! What happened, dears?"

"Long story short, a death eater attacked us." Harry said, hard breathing. "Please help her"

"No worries, she is gonna be ok. She was hit by a stupefy spell, I'll wake her up immediately" Pomfrey spoke, picking her wand and saying some spells. Y/n started coughing, but her stomach was bleeding. The healer gave her a potion and lifted up her shirt, applying some lotion on her tummy. Harry had a concerned look and his hand was interlocked with hers. He smiled encouragingly while putting her hair behind her ear with the other hand.

"You're okay now, love"

Y/n smiled softly.

"Thank you Madam Pomfrey"

"Poppy for you, darling. And also for you, Mr. Potter. I'm going to keep her here over night. You can stay here how much you want, but she still needs rest. Here is a treatment for another week" -she handed him a lotion and a potion - "make sure she applies this cream on the scars every morning and evening. And the potion, it's once a day. When I'll let her go, I hope you take good take of her. You're a good boyfriend, potter."

Harry's face flushed red and he shook his head.

"Thank you so much, Poppy. I'll let her sleep now. Stay safe, lovely" he kissed her forehead and he got up. Y/n was already asleep, smiling. Before he left, harry and ginny had a 1 second eye-contanct.

'Of course. Of course he loves y/n now. She is happier, prettier, nicer, way more loved and a hero for everyone. " ginny trought. She was hurt - really hurt - her best friend was now in a relationship with her "ex". She felt a sharp pain in her chest, but she didn't know if it was her blood or her emotions. A crystalline tear left her eye. She didn't know she could handle that much emotional energy. Her heart was exploding from angriness, embarrassment, tiredness, sadness and a 'little bit' of jealousy.

But then her heart skipped a bit. She eyed a beautiful ring on y/n's finger. It was unique, some sort of ring she always wanted to get from Harry. A ring that you get from someone who you truly love. Then she realised - it was an engagement ring.

Harry is going to marry y/n, harry proposed to y/n in a way ginny only dreamed, harry is going to give y/n the life she always wanted. They are going to spend time together, get a house, dance in the rain, kiss and live happily ever after.

-

[author-morgan]

“You’re hair is really soft after you wash it.” and “Ssh. Stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair.” with Eivor. Bring on the fluffy viking braiding session!

ahhh, those are such cute prompts. i hope you enjoy this drabble!

m!Eivor x fem!Reader

EIVOR WOLFSMAL RETURNS at the edge of dark covered in filth. He left before dawn with a group of hunters in pursuit of a beast rumored to be lurking near the settlement. It would be best to put the beast down before it started causing trouble with the livestock and people. When he steps into the firelight, it is a mixture of blood and mud marring his leathers and staining his golden hair and beard. You point him to a chair near the table after telling him to strip —away from your loom and drying clothes. His clothes will have to wait to be washed for now. 

It is by luck alone you had been preparing a bath for yourself, but Eivor now needs one far more than you. Dumping the last kettle of steaming water into the wooden tub, you motion for him to get in. He wanted to be greeted with a kiss, but given his current state and foul smell, he cannot blame you. Eivor splashes water onto his face and scrubs away the muck. You stoke the fire in the hearth before moving next to the bath with a cake of soap and a boar bristle brush. 

He takes the soap from you and rubs it between his hands until it lathers. While he scrubs his beard, arms, and legs with the bristle brush, you bring one of the table chairs and sit behind him. Taking a seat, you reach for his hair and start to undo his braids —setting aside the beads, rings, and leather thongs he had adorning his golden locks. Unbound, his hair falls past his shoulders. With your fingers, you work through the largest knot, humming the soft tune of a lullaby. 

Dipping a stone pitcher into the tub, you pour water over his head. He grumbles and you laugh at his churlish protest. It takes three pitchers to soak his hair, but then you lean forward, taking the cake of soap from him and begin working it into a lather through his hair. Eivor leans against the wooden bath, head tilted back as you massage his scalp. “Your fingers are magic, kjære min,” he breathes. You smile and place a short kiss on his forehead. These little moments do nothing but make you love him more —the gods had been kind to let you marry a man like Eivor Wolfsmal. 

Dumping several pitchers over his head washes the suds and grime away and into the dirty bathwater. Pleased with the cleanliness of his hair, you wash his shoulders and back. Stopping to trace over the few scars, fingers brushing over the rough patch of skin on his back —a reminder of his moniker from when he was a boy. You can hear his sharp intake of air when your fingers are replaced by the soft warmth of your lips. 

He shifts, turning back to look at you from over his shoulder. “Will you kiss me now that I’m clean?” Eivor asks with a low, rough laugh. Smiling, you lean toward him and he closes the remaining gap —pressing his lips against yours. His damp hand slides back into your hair, pulling you closer. Parting, you lift your hand to his cheek, tracing over the scar running down his cheek —hand dropping down to comb through his wet beard. 

“You should have seen the beast,” Eivor remarks, lifting his arms above his head of mimic the size of the slain bear. You listen to the tale. It will be told again by others during the next gathering on the settlement. The antler comb catches on another knot to be worked out. He pretends to shove a spear forward —skewering the beast. He had struck the first major blow and the bear was easily felled by the hunting party. You run your fingers through his hair, pleased to find there is nary a knot left. Setting the comb aside, you wrap your arms around his middle from behind and lean over Eivor’s shoulder, kissing his cheek. 

Before the warm hearth, you share a small meal —crusty brown bread and smashed blackberries from brambles in the forest. By the time you both discard the dirtied bathwater and clean up after the meal, the hour is late. Eivor yawns, he has been awake since before the break of dawn. The silence within the small home is broken by the low, gurgling croak of Sýnin, finding his perch above the hearth and preening his damp feathers. 

Eivor draws you toward the bed, working the ties of your woolen dress free. Crawling over him, you settle into the mattress, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. “Your hair is always soft after it’s washed,” you tell him, smiling as you brush aside the golden strands falling in front of his face. His hair is often bound in braids and it is easy to forget how well the golden strands frame his face —making him seem less a fierce warrior and more of an overgrown whelp. He catches your wrist, placing a soft kiss to the center of your palm. Gathering a clump of the golden hair, you split it into three parts —weaving the strands into a simple braid to keep the hair from his face. He mumbles something, half-asleep already. “Stop fussing,” you laugh, “I’m just braiding your hair.” 

Eivor swats your hands away, quickly engulfing you with his arms —warm and strong. “You can do that in the morning,” he tells you, nuzzling his nose into your neck. There will be plenty of time for you to fix his hair in the morn. You relax in his embrace, laying your head against his chest. The steady and strong beat of his heart is a comfort. For now, Eivor Wolfsmal just wants to rest after a long day and hold the woman he loves in his arms. 

@withered-poppies @ananriel @britishhotassassin @fjor-ok-skadi  @nemo-my-name-forevermore if you want to be tagged in Eivor stuff, just let me know!