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indigo-graves · 4 months

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This Dance pt. 2 | Joe Liebgott

Summary: Part two, in which everyone is fighting to hold back exactly what they want to say.

Word count: 3,857

Warnings: SMUT

There was a conversation that needed to happen that Joe Liebgott was not quite bring himself to start. As they stood in the crowded room, the roaring of the speakers around them felt overwhelming. After settling into the quietness of their lives’ new pace, watching the footage from the Pacific seemed a stark and unwelcomed contrast. Liebgott wondered if he would have felt this way if he had not spent the entire fight in Europe wondering what it would be like to start a life with Evelyn Mosey when this was all over. If there was one thought that got him through the blasts, the cold and wet, seemingly endless nights, it was her. And the idea that he would never be without her again.

He tried to steal subtle glances over to her as she watched the footage screen. Her jaw was set. Her full lips pressed into a firm line. Her dark eyes were focused intently, never once bothering to look over at him. He watched a wave of tension ripple in her neck. She tilted her head side to side, rolling her shoulders up to meet her ears. A simple gesture that would have gone unnoticed to anyone but him.

When they shuffled out, he made sure to keep sight of her. The masses that filed out trickled out taking different paths, he made a bee-line for her. Years spent in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to glance, to touch, to speak, he knew how to keep himself at a distance, while still in her warm orbit.

“I don’t want to talk about it now, Lieb,” she told him adamantly, looking down the hallway both ways to ensure that no one else was interested in their exchange.

“I know,” he rolled his eyes. Never had he been with a woman who was so consistently unfeeling when it did not benefit her. “Can I just--”

She watched someone walk past them, behind Liebgott. They exchanged a nod of recognition. Her face fell from its friendly openness to one of frustration when she met his gaze again.

“Just come in,” she opened the door wider and encouraged him to move quickly. “I don’t want to do this out here.”

Liebgott had seen her room since their time began at Zell Am See. The time he spent there was less than he would have liked. If he had imagined a true celebration of the victory in Europe, it would not have been so distant from her.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now.” She was firm in her words, but her hand was gentle as it touched the buttons on his shirt. He nodded and bit the inside of his cheek. He knew there weren’t going to be any words he could say to demand her to comply. He could not claim her strong will was his favorite thing about her and then admonish her for it when it did not benefit him. “Please?”

The way she looked up at him with those large doe eyes made him feel a warmth spread in his chest and abdomen. He touched her face gently and nodded, tracing her jawline with his thumb. He had spent half the fucking war holding back a proposal of marriage, children, a life together. He bit back vows of eternity and forever. He withheld the words “I love you.” Surely one more fucking day made no difference.

She smiled and took him by the hand, slowly backing him towards the bathroom.

There was an electric current that radiated through every vein in his body when she reached to turn the shower on. He was convinced there would never be a time where he was not breathless in anticipation to see her undress. He felt the twitch of need in his groin just thinking of the moment where he would watch the water touch her naked flesh. So when she started to work on the buttons of her shirt, he sat back on the corner of the clawfoot tub with a playful smirk.

Evelyn rolled her eyes as she watched him perch himself on the tub. If there was one thing she was going to miss about Joseph Liebgott, it was going to be his boyish charm. The way his eyes danced over her appraisingly caused her skin to catch light with blue flame, so hot it felt cool and caused her to erupt in goosebumps. She stepped out of her boots skillfully as she worked on the buttons of her shirt. When she pulled it over her shoulders and left it in a pile on the ground, she heard a small whistle from her observer.

Liebgott felt a pang in his stomach while he watched her start to work on her pants. Ignoring all thoughts and feelings (how did she do it?) about what was to come, he focused on the way her deft fingers worked on her buttons, letting them fall to her feet. Though he had ensured that every part of her had been explored by eager hands, lips, and tongue, it was taking everything in him not to get to his knees and help her escort those pants the rest of the way to her ankles.

She stepped out of the last of her clothes with a smile. He bit his lip as he glanced over her body. Evelyn had resigned herself that there would never be another man who made her so hungry to be stared at in this way again. His eyes carried just enough devotion to balance the intense desire that made her feel like the only woman on the planet. He once had told her he would watch her read the phone book just to stare at her lips.

Liebgott licked his lips softly, shifting to adjust the fullness in his pants. No coaxing, no teasing, simply the pure sight of her undressing herself, all for him, caused such a stir in him. It was exactly that gesture that Evelyn watched hungrily, her eyes darkening as she pinned her lower lip between her teeth. That was all the indication Joe needed to close the gap between them.

He braced the back of her head, her dark curls tangling perfectly around his large fingers when he pulled her close. He wanted to taste the spot of her mouth where she had bit down. A needy whimper betrayed Evelyn as it eased up from her throat. It was so very like Joe Liebgott to pull all kinds of unprompted sounds from her eager throat. The way his mouth moved with hers was a dance the two of them had skillfully mastered. Lieb couldn’t help but smirk as he thought about the other kinds of dances she had shared with other men. Nothing could compare to this. Ever.

His hands worked at the buttons of his own shirt. He made a quick and sloppy job of getting it off and tossing it to the floor, his undershirt quick behind it. There was a simple and intense maneuver Evelyn had mastered in getting his belt undone with nimble fingers. It always left him growling against her lips. He gripped her scantily clad behind and squeezed, pulling her hips into his with a force that caused them both to let out a groan.

“Joey,” she breathed, her lips swollen, his pridefully wearing the ghost of her red lipstick. He smirked, feeling himself twitch at the sound of her need. He busied himself with kissing her neck, his thumbs teasing the cups of her bra. She worked to unbutton his pants, chest heaving, eyes heavily lidded.

“Yeah?” He grinned against her skin. She moaned again, biting her swollen lower lip and shuddering as he kissed down over her sternum. “What is it?” he asked teasingly. “Tell me.” The demand was placed just before he nipped at the skin of her right breast. He tugged at his waistband and let his pants fall with a gasp.

“Take me,” she murmured, feeling his desperate length through his boxers with her hand.

“You know how this works, doll.” He smiled, making eye contact with her. He could taste her desperate shudders as he pressed their foreheads together. Their eyes were locked so intensely that she felt him twitch under her hand. “You don’t get any of me until I’ve had my fill of you first.”

She leaned up and kissed him with a groan, reaching around and taking it upon herself to get her bra off. Lieb took the hint and cast his boxers to the floor, slowly stroking himself as she watched her expose every inch of her perfect body to him. The strain his erection had felt boyish, desperate, and fucking incredible. Never in his life did he think he would find himself a puddle of need at the simple sight of a woman.

She knew it, of course. Evelyn teased him with a smirk as she kicked her underwear to the side with a delicate gesture, her toes pointed. She turned and his breath hitched in his throat at the sight of her delicate muscles of her back, the perfect curve of her hips, her ass, her strong thighs. He continued to touch himself, the way she always reminded him to, when he watched her turn on the water. He knew she longed to be needed in the way he needed her. Joe tried not to think about who would prove to her just how incredible she was when he was no longer around. Biting back every question that bubbled over in his throat, he stepped forward, closing the distance between them.

When his chest pressed against her back, Evelyn hummed contently. His length settled against the curve of her rear, his lips near her ear as he leaned down. She watched as his hand traced the length of her arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps with the gentlest touch.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he whispered into her ear. He pressed his lips to her shoulder as he slowly moved his hand toward her exposed breasts. When his large hand fully enveloped her, she felt the gentle brush of his palm over her nipple that encouraged a moan. He chuckled in her ear as his other hand trailed the curve of her hip toward her desperate center. “Fuck,” he growled, feeling her wetness with the gentle touch of the pad of his finger. Gently pulling her hair up into his fist, he held it away from her neck as he planted hungry kisses on her skin. Sucking, scraping his teeth, flicking his tongue against the sensitive skin where her neck and shoulder met while he drew slow circles around her most sensitive spot. Gasping, pressing back against him, melting into his ministrations, Evelyn felt like she was unable to promise her legs’ ability to hold her up much longer.

“Please, Joe,” she begged breathlessly. “Please.”

Joe chuckled from deep in his chest. She felt it rumble against her back. He took his hand away, missing the warmth of her on his fingers immediately. She turned to him, her eyes heavily lidded with lust, searching his desperately. He smiled at her, took the finger that had worked on her so deftly, and placed it to his lips, flicking his tongue over the pad, his eyes locked with hers.

“Mmm…” He groaned, stepping towards her, backing her into the shower. “God damn…” he growled, watching as her body was hit by the hot water.

Joe watched her, watching the beads of water create paths down over the curves of her body. With her taste on his desperate tongue, his eyes on her perfect body, his heart beating in his chest, he wasn’t sure he would be able to hold out much longer. Whether it was the vulnerability of the space they occupied, the time left together that felt too short, or the intoxicating effect he had on him, he couldn’t distinguish. All he knew is that he had to have her.

There was a beat that passed between them where they were sizing each other up. Evelyn felt the desperation of the moment hit her with a depth she had not recognized. God, if he would just be a little less delicate and loving in those touches, she could excuse away the lump growing in her throat as she watched the way he looked at her. She had always been enough for him. He had always reminded her of that.

In a quick attempt to avoid him seeing the tears welling up in her eyes, she leaned forward and kissed him. The way their lips crashed into one another had an urgency he had not felt from her before. Her hunger was bone deep. He traced her jaw, tenderly caressing her neck, flicking her hair over her shoulder. His length stood at attention between them, gently nudging the flesh of her belly. He rocked forward to feel the friction as he ghosted a gentle trail down her arms to her warm, capable hands.

When he laced their fingers together, she felt him back her into the wall of the shower. The cool tile was an intense contrast to the warm water that hit her front. He laced their fingers together, pressing it gently against the wall beside her head, pinning it there. She watched a coy smirk cross his lips as he pulled away from her. She giggled, tracing the curve of his lower lip, cleaning up the lipstick he had stolen from her mouth. He leaned down and took that thumb between his teeth, flicked his thumb over the pad, and chuckled. She laughed, a playful swat at his cheek against his cheek, pulled her thumb back and replaced it with her lips.

Joe held her against the wall with the weight of his body. Slowly, he started to trail those kisses down over her body, his hand still tightly clasped in hers. He loved the feeling of her grip on his hand tightening as he placed kisses to the more intimate parts of her body. The spot between her breasts, her left nipple, just above her belly button (God, would he miss that fucking giggle), the curve of her hip, the top of her thigh. He directed her hand to the back of his head and left it there, needing both of his hands to tenderly separate her thighs, pulling one up over his shoulder as he got to his knees.

“Joe…” she breathlessly tangled her hands in his hair and gripped as he pressed his mouth to the place where she needed him most. There was a wave of gasps that followed that caused him to smirk against her, following the work of his tongue with the addition of a skilled finger.

Mindful of shared walls, used to keeping herself quiet by biting pillows and shoulders, Evelyn was left to trap the back of her hand in her teeth as he worked. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her as she touched her, teased her, tongued her with the skill of a much more experienced man. But, she recognized, he was an experienced man. He was a man who knew her so fully that he was able to coax the most unladylike noises from her throat with ease. He knew her inside and out in every way possible. The intimate attention he paid to the details of her body felt like the worship of a deity; the way he enacted that devotion felt sinful.

Overwhelmed by every sensation between her legs, she found herself grasping at the back of his head and shoulders, her hips moving up to meet his attentive mouth and fingers. He moaned against her repeatedly, desperate to draw every curse she knew from her delicate mouth. Grinning with desire, with power, with pleasure, he worked attentively on her body, his only goal to push her to her limits. He stopped the hand that was working at his own length and snaked it up over her body, tracing her edges to take her heaving breast in his hands. They moaned in unison, his sending vibrations to the core of her being. In that moment, she came undone around his fingers, against his tongue, spilling out desperate whimpers and cries of his name. Joe could have spent an eternity in the sound of her sweet need.

Evelyn, on the other hand, was unable to let too long pass without any part of him inside of her. His vacancy was felt immediately when she pulled him to his feet, gently guided by the fistful of his dark hair. She kissed him as if it would be their last, unsure if it would be, and teased a hand over his eager length, guiding him towards her.

Joe, pleased to know she was as needy as he felt, pulled away from her lips and tongue. He gripped her hips and turned her away from him, her ass pulled against his hard length in the most satisfying way. She moaned at the contact, he held his own back. He tucked her hair behind her ear as to not obscure her vision as she turned to look over her shoulder at him. He kissed her temple, her ear, her jaw, neck, and shoulder. His hand encouraged her thighs apart, lifting a leg to the edge of the tub where her foot found purchase.

Swiftly, skillfully, and perfectly, he entered her, pulling a satisfied, guttural moan from deep within them both.

“Fuck,” he gasped against her neck. The way he gripped her hips was bruising as they both accommodate his eager entrance. He felt her skin erupt in goosebumps against his chest. He pressed forward, making sure he reached her depths with all he had. She reached back, stiffening against him, her fingers lacing with his against her hip.

Slowly, consistently, deeply, he started a pace with his hips. The water that fell between them from above made their skin glisten and it pooled where their bodies met. The gentle slap of their skin meeting with gentle force made her giggle. He kissed her cheek, unable to hold back the groans of pleasure that spilled from his lips. She gasped, pushing back against him as she angled herself to take him deeper.

That was all Joe needed to encourage him to pick up his pace. The swiftness in which their bodies collided called new noises from her mouth. He kissed her upper back and shoulders while he steadied himself, pulling her back onto him.

“Oh, god…” she reached toward the wall to find something to grip. The slick tiles gave her no purchase. That was when she reached behind her, wrapping a hand around his neck, gripping the hairs at the base of his scalp. Liebgott groaned loudly, gripping her hips tighter. His other hand trailed up toward her breast, gripping it gently in his hands, memorizing its shape, weight, the hardness of her nipple against his palm.

“You’re fucking incredible, you know that?” He grunted into her ear, only further pulling strings of incoherence from her mouth. She bit her lip hard, feeling an overwhelm of emotion take over her body like a wave. The lump grew double in size in her throat as she met his every thrust, stars behind her eyes. Unable to respond, he continued. “You’re so perfect. Fuck, Evie.” Her name felt like chocolate on his lips. She turned over her shoulder to taste it on them. Her eyes screwed shut as the tears burned behind them, he continued to bring her body to new heights. When he reached down between her legs, she became overwhelmed. The threat of tears was hard to fight off.

“Joe--” she breathed, the sound of his name clipped by the failure to stop a sob from leaving her lips. The phrase he pulled from her next caused her to bite her tongue between her teeth.

“I--” Joe started. She heard the start of her own words start to come from his mouth. The feeling, the desperation of her overwhelming emotions was contagious. He couldn’t tell where his heartbreak, his pleasure, his love, began and where hers ended. The only way to stop himself from telling her just how he felt about her was to sink his teeth in her shoulder, as she had done to him so many times. Familiar with the sensation, Evelyn felt the pressure, the sting, and every unsaid word behind the contact on her shoulder. She turned away, fearful he would stop if he saw the tears cascading down her cheeks, he would stop. She screwed her eyes shut as she felt a heat building inside of her.

Desperate to feel her come undone around him, under him, with him, he teased her more intentionally with his fingers, his hips working in time with his skillful touch. If he couldn’t tell her, he could show her.

“Please,” she begged. He had come to know it as the last phrase, the last push, before he was gifted with her orgasm. “Joe--”

As he felt her start to push back against him, taking every inch of him, all of him, so intentionally. The feel of her as she let go, her body working desperately to pull him over the edge with her, he followed. The two of them tumbled over together, a tangled mess of limbs, pants, sobs, and everything they swore they’d never fucking say.

#band of brothers #hbo war #bob #fan fiction #fanfic #ao3 #joe liebgott #lieb #liebgott #joe liebgott smut #joseph liebgott #joseph liebgott smut #smut fic #fan fic update #joe liebgott x reader #joe liebgott x oc

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malarkgirlypop · 6 months

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Goody Part 3 (Joseph Liebgott x Fem!Reader)

Dude, this part is steamy. IDK if I should post this to tumblr, like I feel like I will get arrested or something. This is my first ever like proper smut scene, so be nice. AH I'm nervous. No one judge me alright! Bahaha omg ok here we go, this is part three. This is based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters no hate to anyone involved.

I lie in bed dozing, I ruminate on the last conversation I had with Joe. My head swirls with emotions, I’m happy I apologised but I’m sad at how he took the apology. He was so cruel. I have known Joe for a long time, yes he is annoying and rude but always in a playful manner. When I spoke to him before I left he was malicious. I huffed rolling over and pulling the covers under my chin. My plan for today is to do nothing. None of the others are off, so I can be lazy and spend all day in bed, moping. I hear heavy footsteps run up the stairs, my back faces away from the bedroom door, I hear it creak open. “Mary, I’m not doing a shift, this is my day off!” I say before she can speak. I hear the person panting. I still, is it not Mary. I roll over, my eyes widen in surprise. There in the doorway is a breathless Joe. I sit up, then pull the covers up to hide my pj’s I wear. I don’t have a bra on.

“Joe, what on earth are you doing here?” I query. “Did you run here, you shouldn’t run yet, what about you injury.” I ramble on. He chuckles, catching his breath.

“They discharged me.” He reports, straightening. He walks further into the room, looking awkward. I watch him curiously.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him. He moves forward, taking a seat at the bottom of my bed. He wrings his hand together looking sheepish.

“I wanted to apologise to you. I didn’t mean what I said. I forgive you.” He mutters, looking down at his hands.

“Oh, well thank you.” I say confused, he ran all the way here to forgive me. I furrow my brow watching him.

“What?” He says looking up at me.

“Nothing.” I say shaking my head, “Well I guess this is goodbye then.” I extend my hand for him to shake it. He glances from my hand to my face. He shakes his head. I blink at him confused, I lower my hand.

“Oh no, Goody, you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He smirks at me, but it’s different, there’s intent behind the smirk. My breath catches in my throat, as my heart beats faster, unsure of what he means. I stay still, as he stands from his position, and makes his way further up the bed, he sits down right beside me. My breathing quickens as I gulp, the butterflies in my stomach do somersaults. I bite my lower lip, waiting with anticipation. His eyes darken as his hand reaches out, removing my lip from my teeth with his thumb as he cups my face. Goosebumps arise on my skin from his touch. A shiver runs up my spine. I hold the cover closer to my chest, trying to hide the fact I’m not wearing a bra. He glances from my lips back to my eyes. I keep very still, not wanting to make any sudden movements, like he is a wild animal and one move will send him back into the woods.

I glance at his lips. He slowly moves forward, I feel his breath on my face. I’m desperate for him to close the gap. I do it myself, finding his lips with my own. A rush of adrenaline shoots through my body. I kiss him harder, dropping the covers I cling to myself, leaving me in just a t-shirt and my underwear. I pull him closer, grabbing at his neck and shoulder. His hands find my waist pulling me flush with him. His fingers travelled under my shift gripping at my hips. I moan from the contact. He pulls back smiling at me, “You like that huh?” I don’t answer him, smashing my lips back onto his.

I need him closer. I open my mouth as his tongue darts out wetting my lip. He takes my bottom lip in between his teeth, biting softly. I gasp, as he lets it go, kissing me again, his tongue exploring my mouth. The heat in between my legs is growing, as fingers drag down my back under my top. I tilt my head back as he kisses my neck. I pull his jacket off his shoulders. I can feel him grinning into my neck. I pant, needing him more. I undo his buttons, struggling a little, his hands leave my back to help me with his top. He gets up from the bed, leaving me sitting on my knees. I watch him as he pulls off his tops, exposing his bare chest. I grin at him, “You like the show?” He asks, raising his eyebrows. I nod, grinning at him. I cover my mouth with my hand as he undoes his belt buckle with one hand, then undoing his pants. He pulls them down leaving him in his underwear.

I squeal as he marches forward, picking me up from the spot I watch him from. He sits down on the bed placing me on top of him. I straddle his lap. Feeling his hardness pressed against me. I lean in to kiss him again but he stops me with his hand around my neck. He tsks, “One of us is wearing too much.” I nod, just wanting his lips on mine again. His hand leaves my neck, pulling off my top. I cover my arms over my chest, suddenly aware of how exposed I am to him. His gaze meets mine, full of lust and need. “I don’t want you to cover yourself around me, Y/N.” His tone low. I lower my hands exposing my chest to him. He takes me in, “You’re beautiful.” He whispers, pulling me closer to him, so that his chest is flush with mine.

He kisses me hard, I return the kiss. My fingers tangling in his hair. His hands run up my sides, sending shivers around my body. I gasp into his mouth as he takes the soft flesh of my chest into his hand, squeezing it gently. His fingers pinching my erect nipple, causing me to groan in pleasure as I arch my back for him. His mouth quickly latches onto my other nipple, his tongue swirling around it sensually. “Oh god!” I mutter looking down to watch him. I run my fingers through his hair tugging it softly, causing a groan to leave his lips, I shudder as it reverberates throughout my body.

I grind my hips into his, causing him to gasp. His hands landed on my waist, stilling me. I laugh as he flips us over, so that he hovers over me. I watch him through heavy lids, as he kisses his way down my torso, looking up at me as he goes. He drags his lips over my waist and hips, causing me to squirm under his touch, he grins tickling me with his lips. I still when he kisses me just above the waistband of my underwear. I pant watching him with anticipation. He grins at me, knowing he is teasing me. I lift my hips for him to pull the fabric down but he holds me still. “Joe.” I plead, wiggling my hips. He presses kisses to the insides of my thighs, driving me insane, getting closer with each kiss, but just as he is about to kiss where I want him too he moves away.

“Stop teasing me.” I whine.

“Ask nicely.” He looks up at me from between my legs.

“Please Joe.” I say.

“Please Joe what? Use your words, Y/N.” He says in his husky voice.

“Please Joe, please remove my underwear and kiss me… kiss me down there.” I mutter embarrassed. He smirks at me. Lifting my hips and pulling down the fabric, exposing me to him. I wait patiently, watching him take me in with his eyes.

“So wet for me.” He says, his breath fanning on me. I sigh in content, leaning my head back. I gasp when his lips find my core, my back arching. His tongue swirls over my bud of nerves, sucking and licking. I bit my lip, trying to keep quiet. A loud moan falls from my lips when his finger slides inside of me. I reach down gripping onto his hair, my other hand grasping at the sheets we lie on. He hums in satisfaction, at my noises. I gasp feeling it on my core. “Oh my god, Joe!” I pant. He pushes me close to the edge. Sliding another finger inside of me, I feel myself clench around him. As his mouth continues to pleasure me. The noises from my lips are a mixture of groans and screams. He puts more pressure on my core with his tongue, moving faster in and out of me. I arch my back further as I try to wiggle out of his grasp, nearly over the edge. He holds me still, looking up at me from between my legs. His gaze finally pushed me to my finish. I close my eyes, throwing my head back. My toes curl, as I grip onto Joe’s head, worried I will explode from my orgasm that rips through my body, causing me to shake. I finally come down from my high. I lay there spent, Joe still resting in between my legs, just smiling at me.

I pull him up to me, crashing my lips into his. Tasting myself on him, “I need you.” I whisper into his ear, as my lips run down his neck. “Greedy?” He says pulling me back, to then kiss my lips again. I nod, kissing him hungrily on his lips. I can feel his smile under my lips. I smile back coyly, “Please.” I look up at him through my lashes, pouting my lips slightly, really putting on my puppy dog eyes. His smirks at me, chuckling. He kisses the tip of my nose. “If you look at me like that I won’t ever leave this room.” He warns, I grin nodding my head. I reach down pulling at his waistband, I tug them down.

I bite my lip as his dick springs free. I reach down, taking him in my hand, he groans burying his head in my shoulder. His breath tickling my neck. I move my hand up and down his length. “Fuck.” He mutters into my skin. I grip him harder, causing him to moan. I move my hand again. “If you keep doing that, I’m not going to last much longer.” He kisses my cheek. I stop my movement, and grin at him. He bites my lower lip, releasing it again from his teeth. “That's mine, stop biting it.” He growls. I nod, giving him a cheeky smile.

He watches me, I return his gaze. I don’t notice him moving, until he slips inside of me. I gasp, as he watches me with a smirk on his face. I look down at our bodies connected together. I clench around his length, as he moves slowly in and out of me. I watch his face, he closes his eyes, sighing as he rocks back and forth. I place a kiss on his lips. He opens his eyes, looking at me lovingly. He kisses me gently, picking up his pace. I pant into his mouth as he continues to kiss me. I moan as he rams into me. “You feel so good, Joe.” I whimper, gripping at his back, running my nails down his skin. One of his arms holds the head board above us as the other cups my cheek, his thumb stroking my flesh. We continue to stare at each other, I watch him enjoy me as he does the same. He removes his hand from my cheek, snaking it down between my legs. I cry out as his thumb rubs circles on my bud of nerves. “What do you want Y/N?” He asks in between pants. “I want you Joe.” I moan. He presses into my core as he moves faster in and out of me. The sound of panting, moans and skin slapping together fill the room. He calls out my name, as I do the same.

“Please Joe, don’t stop.” I beg him almost over the edge. He kisses me hard. Going deeper inside of me, I whine into his mouth, as he groans in mine. We climax together. I feel my body shake under his as my walls clench around him. I feel him finish inside of me as he moans into my hair. He lowers himself down to lie on me. We lie together, panting, coming down from our highs. I hugged him tightly to me as he stroked my hair. We don’t move or pull away from each other basking in each other’s bodies. He pulls back enough to look at my face, he smiles warmly at me, kissing me softly on my lips. “You know what?” He says.

“What?” I ask brushing the hair off his forehead, grinning at him.

“I don’t think I hate you.” He states, making me chuckle.

“Well I hope not.” I say between laughs.

“No, I think I love you.” His eyes meet mine, as he takes me in.

“I love you.” I whisper, kissing him gently. He kisses me back lovingly.

#I am so sorry #If you know me personally #no you don't #Smut #this is so smutty #omg #ah #Liebgott #band of brothers #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #fem reader #hbo war #fanfic #reading #ahhh ok omg I am going to post this and go to bed #and pretend like I didn't write this #askjbajb

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irrelevantrevolutionary · 2 years

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I Lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship

#band of brothers #liebgott #webgott #david webster #joe liebgott #try guys #ned fulmer

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bandoffans · 2 years

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Band of brothers behind the scenes !

Hey,I just found these band of brothers behind the scenes photos with Ross McCall (Liebgott). Mabe a new series of content(?)

#american soldiers #anyway enjoy #band of brothers #bandoffans #hbo #for you #hbo series #hbo war #hope you enjoy #joseph liebgott #Liebgott #liebgott #movie #behind the scenes #tv seires

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palatteflags · 1 year

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Joseph Liebgott from Band of Brothers based moodboard~ ^^ For @pretty-fly-for-a-sky-guy c: Hope you like this!!

Want one? Send an ask~ -mod Jay

#joseph #joseph liebgott #bob #bob joseph #liebgott #joe liebgott #band of brothers #band of brothers joseph #not lgbt #edit #edits #moodboard #moodboards #mood board #mood boards #mood #moods

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skiesofrosie · 1 month

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would anyone be interested, at all, in a joe liebgott x ofc, pretty long one-shot? >.< my fingers started typing it out. (the character in the show, not the real person!!)

#band of brothers #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #liebgott #band of brothers x ofc

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yourspeirs · 26 days

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#angry little man #liebgott #joe liebgott #band of brothers #ross mccall #easy company #hbo war #joseph liebgott #band of brothers liegott #band of brothers gif #band of brothers edit #joe liebgott gif #bob liebgott #ep: points

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latibvles · 2 years

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SAD, BEAUTIFUL, TRAGIC.

beautiful, tragic // keep pushin’ forward.

in which the dust settles in carentan — but a medic's work is never finished.

masterlist | gallery | taglist

WARNINGS: typical discussions of war & death, brief mentions of period-typical sexism

SUMMARY: the first day of fighting draws to a tentative close, and as the men prepare for an inevitable counterattack — daisy learns some new names.

For a moment, all Daisy does is rapidly blink, not expecting the solid form she bumps into before her eyes finally move upward to get a look at the person’s face. Brown eyes, brown hair, upturned nose and now that she has a better look at him — his face is clear of any abrasions or cuts, which is a bit surprising all things considered. But his arms are crossed over his chest in a way that exudes the type of fresh-faced cockiness that a lot of the soldiers hadn’t quite shed yet.

“Long time no see.” Whatever anger he’d been struggling to contain earlier seems to have dissipated slightly — or maybe he was filtering it and turning it into this confidence he radiates now.

“Ah… Liebgott, right?” She asks, choosing to ignore the line he’s thrown her way. He nods, looking her up and down in a examining way.

“That’s right, Nurse…”

“Daisy’s fine enough. For now. Nurse Clarke when I’m stitchin’ your guts back in though.” And although she doesn’t necessarily mean to be funny, he laughs irregardless and she doesn’t have it in her to defend herself. Laughter is good. Morale boosts are good. They’ve got a long fight ahead of them and she isn’t going to be the one to spoil the few happy moments they get in between.

“Right okay, Daisy,” she’s not used to hearing the name leave the lips of anyone beyond those in her unit, which was still a rarity. In the past six days she’s gotten used to responding to the wails of Nurse! Liebgott’s face grows serious for a moment after that. “What’d you think Tipper’s chances are then, Daisy?”

She furrows her brows. She’s never been one for lying and she doesn’t think it wise to start now, so she hums as she tries to compose a response for him.

“A bit slim. There’s just no way we’re saving that eye. He’s gonna need one hell of a surgeon to save his legs,” and then she looks up at him, reaches out and gives his forearm a gentle squeeze. “Luckily we have one hell of a surgeon up at the field hospital. Once you boys cleared out the area he was the first one up there. They’re slim, but they’re there. Promise.”

Liebgott nods along in understanding, before his eyes fall to where her hand rests on his arm, and his eyebrow raises, a bit of a smirk growing on his face as his gaze shifts back to her. Realizing what she had done, Daisy’s hand quickly retracts and she feels the tips of her ears heating up in embarrassment — she can hear Liebgott let out a self-serving laugh as she folds her hands in front of herself and stares up at him for a moment longer.

“So, you gonna be sticking around for a bit or what?” She reaches up, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear which had fallen from it’s low bun, and gives him a bit of a shrug.

“Depends on what the medical situation is gonna look like. Your numbers took a pretty heavy hit on D-Day, they might mobilize us or keep us at the field hospitals depending on what the situation calls for,” It sounds way more strategic this way than bluntly going ‘I've got no idea.’ She takes her lip between her teeth for a moment before releasing it. They taste irony. “Right now I’m not sure since I’ve been here all day.” Then his expression changes — she isn’t sure if it’s mischief or excitability or what — but she watches as Liebgott reaches out to grab her wrist. Daisy bites her cheek at the familiarity of the gesture, stares into his eyes, and gives him a questioning look.

“Well, just in case, you’d better meet the boys then, huh?” Her mouth runs dry for a moment, unsure where this burst of energy came from, but at the same time but at the same time Liebgott seems more than eager and if this is a way to distract him from his own worry about Tipper, she won’t be the one to shut him down. She lets out a sigh, and nods.

“Guess you’re right. Don’t need any more men half-glarin’ at me 'cause I asked for his name,” Now it’s Liebgott’s turn to snort, and she doesn’t miss the way his ears turn a little pink before he’s dragging her through the now repossessed Carentan.

As it turns out, Joseph Liebgott is a proud member of Easy Company’s 2nd Battalion. And “meeting the boys” means pointing them out to her with a teasing grin on his face and giving each of them his own form of increasingly crude commentary. There’s Bill Guarnere, or rather Gonorrhea as they liked to call him — thickly accented with a clean, fresh face. There’s also Lipton, who she remembers as the poor man with the shrapnel in his thigh and face. In the aftermath, she’s a little more embarrassed to have seen his… delicates, but she chooses to keep that information to herself.

There’s Malarkey, who approaches with big, curious eyes and a wound on his hand that Daisy is insistent on wrapping up at the very least, and Malarkey simply stares at her with parted lips as she goes about wrapping it with a piece of cloth. Daisy gives him a quirked brow.

“Is there something wrong, sir?” she asks, to which he promptly shakes his head.

“No! No I just…”

“Have never felt the touch of a woman?” Liebgott remarks and Malarkey shoots him a half-glare. Daisy’s eyebrows shoot up, Malarkey’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, and she lets his hand fall unceremoniously.

“I’m sure you’ll find a lovely French wife soon enough, Donald,” she teases, and once Malarkey realizes she isn’t actually upset with him, he lets out a stiff and breathy laugh of his own. They exchange brief words, more pleasantries and a ‘It was nice to meet you miss…’ and before she can answer, Liebgott is immediately parroting her own words.

“Daisy. Nurse Clarke when she’s stitchin’ your guts in.” Malarkey tests out the name on his own lips, before finishing with a ‘It was nice to meet you… Daisy.’ before he’s moving off in a direction unknown to her.

Guarnere, Lipton, Malarkey, and then later she can add Talbert, Webster, and “Buck Compton” to the list as well. She squeezes Eugene Roe and Winters in there as well at some point, and all the while as she and Liebgott move around she can feel the lingering stares of other soldiers. It’s not an uncommon thing, but she’s always been a bit too perceptive for her own liking, so she can still feel it, the occasional mutter of ‘Liebgott’s already makin’ his move, eh?’ She just rolls her eyes at the notion. Beyond the initial grab of her wrist to move her along, he’s kept his hands to himself and hasn’t thrown any more lines her way. But he keeps her laughing and laughs at her own attempts at a joke or two — for a moment she wonders if they, too, could be friends.

There’s no guarantee she’ll be back here soon, however, so she doesn’t pose that question to him.

He’s in the middle of recounting the story of his friend Popeye and the misfortune that resulted in him taking a bullet to the rear when, from across the courtyard, she hears a voice call out.

“Hey Liebgott, hurry it up, huh? Speirs says we’re moving out soon, apparently.”

Without meaning to, her gaze snaps to the person calling to him. She doesn’t recognize the man, but presumes his name is ‘Skip’ from Liebgott’s mildly irritated muttering. Her blood runs cold, and she wants to ask if she heard correctly, but decides to give herself some plausible deniability by keeping her mouth shut, biting the inside of her cheek. Liebgott turns to look at her — and she feels almost guilty for being a million miles away, not even thinking about goodbyes.

“We’re getting ready to move out. Hopefully I see you around, Nurse,” he runs his fingers through his hair, and Daisy musters up a smile for him.

“I wouldn’t say hopefully, but maybe you will. I’ve gotta get back to the field hospital anyway. My captain’ll likely bite my head off if I delay any further,” they exchange one last smile and a wave as Liebgott makes his way back towards Skip, and she’s left alone with her thoughts as she makes her own way back to the awaiting jeep that’s going to take her back to her side of the war.

Speirs says we’re moving out soon.

She weighs her options and outcomes as she climbs into the passenger’s seat.

If it is him — then it means he’s alive. That his mother won’t be burying a son. It also means that there’s a chance she’ll have to see him, and she isn’t sure what she’d even say without it coming across as cruel and cold. She’s never seen herself as cruel or cold, but who knows what he thinks now. If it isn’t him, then as far as she’s concerned — Ronald Speirs is still somewhere out there in the world, lost to her. If anything happens, she’ll be completely ignorant to it.

Cruel as it may be, she prefers the latter of the two options.

This changes nothing, she’s half-heartedly scolding herself as they pull into the field hospital. He changes nothing. And she mildly curses herself for having such a visceral reaction, but when she gets off the jeep and Rita’s immediately rushing towards her and pulling her into a hug — she immediately pushes aside that chill for the warmth of her friend’s embrace.

“Pats is hangin’ in there. No clue on death count yet but we’ve got a breather now that they’ve left Carentan. Ginny says we’re stayin’ put for a while though, they’re expectin’ a counterattack — all hand’s on deck situation.” Rita slings her arm over Daisy’s shoulders as they make their way towards one of the larger tents holding recovering soldiers. If there was one person who could deliver such intense news so casually — it was Rita McCarney.

They enter the main tent, and the other women greet them as they pass, and Rita delivers Daisy straight to Captain Brant — her hair frizzy, face flushed, but still smiling with all the radiance of the sun that was breaking past the clouds after all the fighting.

“They took good care of you down there?” she asks playfully, and Daisy laughs lightly.

“Yes ma’am, think they were just happy to have a woman around,” Ginny laughs at the remark, pulling Daisy in for a brief squeeze.

“Good to hear. Bet Rita already told you but they’re expecting a counterattack. We stay put here for now, till we’re ordered to move out. We’ve already started moving boys up into a proper hospital back in England.” She takes a scan of the area, doesn’t see Liebgott’s mangled friend, and only hopes he’d been moved up to the aforementioned hospital. The itch satiated — she no longer feels that dire sense of usefulness. They recuperate, reorganize, tend to the wounded as best they can despite the beds filling up at a rapid rate.

They’ll make do with what they have, worry about the rest later.

Daisy isn’t sure exactly how many they lose in the following days, but the field hospital was easily overcrowded with wounded and dying men. There’s not enough beds, not enough supplies, and to get a little over three hours of sleep is a blessing. Her body cries out in protest, but Daisy has never been one to complain.

Apparently, Rita sarcastically remarks one night, as they’re scrounging for whatever supplies they could spare in one of the tents intended for storage, they ain’t account for the Germans havin’ freakin’ tanks. Lucky our boys in the armored unit made it when they did.

Lucky is certainly a word to describe it, but it’s hard to feel lucky when the amount of bodies outweighs the amount of beds they have onhand. At the very least, they’d strengthened the beachheads and were now anticipating more supplies coming in and, hopefully enough, more hands on deck.

“I’m tellin’ you, Pats. I’ve got the most stubborn freakin’ guy in the whole damn company.” Rita moans. Back on bandage cleaning duty, trying to find what the four of them can salvage. Daisy hears Patty giggle quietly at Rita’s complaints. “Had to practically wrestle the guy into bed. I mean seriously, you just took a piece of a freakin’ grenade to the head and your guys ain’t goin’ nowhere till we get the order to move out. Relax!”

“Bet you're really missing North Africa now,” Daisy teases, to which Rita once again groans. “This guy got a name?”

Rita shrugs as she dumps more bloodied bandages into the pot, pushing them further down.

“No clue, but he’s a damn broody type to top it off — feathers all ruffled cause he can’t do nothin till he’s healed.” A lot of soldiers were like that. She’d already see a fair few make a break for it and go AWOL from the 42nd — she didn’t think it’d be much different here. Daisy still isn’t sure if it’s noble or stupid.

“At least he isn’t going AWOL.” Daisy reminds her, and she can hear Patty’s giggling only grow in volume, as well as the unceremonious thwap of wet cloth against a wood table in the center of the room.

“Oh I’d drag ‘em back by his freakin’ ears if he went AWOL. Mark my words.”

She doesn’t doubt it for a second. Rita had been in it longer than the three of them — being transferred from North Africa to Europe as Invasion day edged ever closer. Daisy was almost certain she’d dealt with every type of “frustrating soldier boy” there was to deal with. So she just laughs at Rita’s grumbling, reaching over to give her a reassuring shoulder squeeze and a half-amused smile, to which she rolls her eyes but smiles back at her regardless, leaning over to put her head on Daisy’s shoulder for a moment.

“Do me a favor, Dais?” she asks, her voice a little softer now. Daisy hums in response. “There’s a whole crate of plasma n’ other supplies I’ve still gotta run by supply office, think you can do it for me?” She nods in agreement, and Rita mutters out more specific directions on where exactly the crate is, before Daisy is making her way out the door and towards that side of the field hospital.

The clamor of medics and men floods her ears as she walks. Her body is undeniably sore and achy, her head pounds and any sunlight almost seems like too much for her sleep-deprived eyes to handle, but she continues to walk. The tent in question isn’t too far removed from the central part of the village they’d holed up in, so it’s not exactly too difficult to find. She walks in, each crate arranged in neat-enough stacks, marked off with varying tags to indicate delivery date, whether the supplies inside had been accounted for.

She skims the labels before finding the designated crate, and moves to take it into her arms.

“Nurse McCarney? Are you in there?”

She lugs the wooden box into her arms with a heave, hears the rustling of tent fabric behind her as someone walks into the tent. As she begins to turn slowly, she calls out her own reply.

“No, no, McCarney’s busy, it’s—”

“Daisy?”

The sound of the wood crate clattering to the floor is deafening.

#fic // sad beautiful tragic #band of brothers #ronald speirs #band of brothers fic #hbo war #hbo war fic #ron speirs #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x oc #ronald speirs x ofc #history #joseph liebgott #joe liebgott #liebgott #donald malarkey #malarkey

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cajunroe · 2 years

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[anon voice] can i ask for a ''oh. oh.'' for andyeddie porhapse? (or webgott if thats not ur thing anymore ur fic has picked me up & flung me into webgott hell)

Title: You're My Library; Full of Things I Want (T, 4.7k)

Tags: Getting Together, Friendship, Bookstore Owner!Webster, Marriage Proposal, First Kiss, (slight) Angst, Fluff

Summary: He groans as he hangs up on another dead end.

“Who pissed in your whole foods organic granola?” A voice calls out after the bell on the door rings.

He groans again. Joseph ‘call me Joe or I swear to god’ Liebgott was a regular customer, despite rarely buying anything, who lived in the apartments above David’s shop. He was also a constant source of stress in his life and had been since his grand opening a few months ago.

“First of all, your eerie ability to know my groceries is terrifying. Second, I do not have time for you today, Liebgott.” He replies without looking up, marking another seller off his list.

LINK TO AO3

#bastardofficial #band of brothers #the pacific #webgott #andyeddie #dear babe letters #answered #darling jim best jim lovely jim you get BOTH because i love you so #hope you like it! :)#my writing #my stuff #bobs #pac #webster #liebgott #ack ack #hillbilly

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oatflatwhite · 11 days

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band of brothers lines that make my brain go brrr*

*an inexhaustive list

#liz makes things #bobedit #hbowaredit #band of brothers #hbo war #i spent way too long on this. worth it.#also i think i spelled nuenen wrong? web would be proud.#edit yes i misheard the liebgott coat one wrong sorry. my version is funnier tho.

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indigo-graves · 5 months

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This Dance | Joe Liebgott

It wasn’t often that the bulk of Easy Company had privileges on a weekend. Evelyn convinced herself it was absolutely because she had threatened all of the men within an inch of their life. If she had to spend one more weekend at camp, she would surely short circuit. So when they made it through the end of training on Friday, she was able to let out what felt like a breath she had been holding all week.

When she exited her separate living quarters, several of the company’s other members were waiting for her. Talbert let out a whistle, earning himself a smack in the back of the head from Toye. Evelyn rolled her eyes in response, giving Toye a smile of approval.

“Ready, darlin’?” Bull Randleman, her dearest friend, questioned. She nodded. Briefly, her eyes locked with Liebgott, who was biting back a smirk, quickly distracting himself with the cigarette he could put between his lips.

“Ready,” she said, smoothing her skirt decisively and turning on her heel. She had hoped they would mistake the blush rising in her cheeks as rouge.

Three drinks in, the blush in her cheeks was permanent. The bar they had found themselves comfortable in was hot. The Georgia heat mingled with the warmth of too many bodies in a small venue. The wafting clouds of smoke from cigarettes only thickened the air. She was thankful to sit lower than the rest of them in her seat due to her petite stature, most of it traveled over her head.

“Fifty bucks says I get the first Kraut kill when we hit Europe,” Guarnere spoke confidently. His accent only seemed to get thicker with each beer he downed.

“Bullshit,” Toye challenged, slammed a hand down on the table, causing all of their drinks to rattle. Chuckles echoed in response.

“Yeah?” Guarnere grinned, “you gonna get to ‘em before me?”

“There’s not a doubt,” Toye lit a cigarette casually. “One gust of wind and your ass will end up in the middle of the Atlantic while I’m on Hitler’s doorstep.” He jabbed at the smaller man. The table roared with laughter and Guarnere chuckled through gritted teeth.

“I’ll take both your money and take your broads out to dinner with it,” Luz spoke confidently, throwing his hat in the ring.

“Whatdya say we get a dance in while these boys get out their measuring tape?” Bull nudged Evelyn with a smile. She chuckled, threw back the rest of her drink, and got to her feet.

As the next song started to play on the jukebox, the two of them found space in the section of the room that was being used by a few other soldiers and their female partners. She felt Bull pull her close, surprised that he was so keen on dancing.

When Liebgott surveyed the room, he felt a drop in his guts. Through the haze of cigarette smoke and crowd of patrons, he watched as Evelyn moved gracefully in the arms of Bull Randleman. He watched Bull’s hand, splayed at the small of her back, and remembered what it felt like the first time she let him touch her. He thought about the way her breath tickled his ear and neck when he held her that close. The things she had told him. Even more, the noises he had drawn out of her when they were flush against one another in that same way.

He watched her rhythm, knowing it so intimately himself. The way he held those same hips as he guided her into that same rhythm in their most passionate moments. He thought about what it sounded like when she stifled herself, bit at her lips, his shoulder, the pillow, in attempts to keep their dance so secret. And here, he had to sit back and watch as she so publicly danced with someone else.

“Liebgott,” there was an elbow in his lower ribs.

He turned to Talbert, realizing the cigarette in his hand had burned down to a nub in neglect. Talbert furrowed a brow but asked now questions. Liebgott got to his feet and excused himself from the table, leaving his fourth beer nearly untouched behind him.

When the song ended, Bull let go of her waist and thanked her for the dance. She scrunched her nose with a smile at him. He tried to escort her back to their table, stating that surely some of their other company members would want a chance to dance with her. She provided him with a kind excuse, letting him know she was going to get some air and she’d be right back. Only twice did she have to argue that she would be just outside the door, where she had seen both Winters and Nixon standing. He agreed, only content when knowing she had chaperones. Rolling her eyes at the endearing concern, she navigated the compact crowd of people toward the door.

Anyone in their sober mind would have clearly observed the level of intent she had seen in Liebgott’s stare for the majority of her dance with Bull. There was an anger that had ignited in her that made it difficult to focus on Bull in those moments. Liebgott had made her a lot of promises, many of them in the throws of passion, that she had not taken with more than a grain of salt. But when she made him promise to keep the extent to which they had become acquainted to himself, she was sure he understood the severity of the matter.

Liebgott stood outside of the bar, his back resting against the building next door at the mouth of an alley. He knew he could only get away with a few minutes away from the company. Someone would come shouting for him before too long.

He was surprised when he saw Evelyn exit the bar with a relieved sigh. She nodded to Winters and Nixon, who were standing just to the right of the entrance, enjoying the much less congested air. They addressed her in kind, Nixon held up a glass toward her with a small smile. A less raw version of himself would not have had the intrusive image of himself taking a set of brass knuckles to Nixon’s straight, white, Yale-boy grin. A better version of himself, maybe.

When Evelyn’s eyes connected with his, her smile fell. The hard line that set along her lips let him know that whatever it was that she was going to share with him, it was not going to provide any solace to his bruised ego.

“You,” she gritted her teeth as she got closer to him. She glanced over her shoulder to assure herself that there were no interested ears. “You have got to get it together, Joe.” Liebgott bit the inside of his cheek at the sound of his name on her lips. He had only heard it when it bubbled up from deep in her chest in her most vulnerable, passionate moments. God damn, she was so fucking beautiful.

“What?” He was genuinely confused. How was it that he was getting in trouble for her dancing with Bull?

“You,” she shoved his shoulder. It was then that he smelled the liquor on her breath. She had been close enough to him that he had also caught the sweetness of her perfume. Something in him ached. “Looking at me like that.”

He chuckled a little at her. How threatening she was, how powerful. But he knew her soft edges. He knew those vulnerable moments. He knew her fear. He had swallowed it whole for her with the slip of her tongue. He knew her.

“Looking at you like what?” He asked. His voice teased her in a way that drew goosebumps to the surface of her skin. He stepped forward, daring her to close the distance between them. Her eyes fluttered in response, her tongue tied. She did not respond. He smiled slyly, not able to help the shift between them. This was his place. Standing before her, teasing her, flustering her. Did Bull fucking Randleman do that?

“Don’t do that to me,” she snapped out of her daze. She steeled herself, squared her shoulders, put a step of distance between their bodies. The haze of the moment passed and she remembered just how public a venue he had started this dance in.

“Do what?” Those coy responses were what got Evelyn into this mess in the first place. He wanted her to get drunk on him. Addicted to him.

“If you get us caught, you know what will happen,” she threatened. Joe nodded in response. There were no playful replies to bite back when the reality of what they had gotten themselves into was brought up. She had told him the conditions of her presence with the company. Should anyone catch wind of anything unsavory, she was done.

She knew he understood how much her career meant to her. She knew he respected it. Respected her. He, however, knew that maybe his deepest fear was that he did not know if he would ever see her again. And that reality was even more frightening than what he had waiting for him on the other side of the ocean.

Joe nodded, clenching his jaw. They stood at the mouth of that alley, wordlessly standing in the mud of their own making. She reached over, the softness of her fingers against his, caused him to jerk his head up in response, looking over her shoulder at the officers just ten feet from them. She boldly stroked the inside of his palm with her delicate fingers. The same way she did when they laid lazily in her bed under the cover of darkness, sweaty, glowing, and drunk on one another.

“Don’t make this end before it has to,” she squeezed his hand. “Please.”

Joe met her eyes. The dimensions of light and dark in them were picked up by the streetlamp. He wanted desperately to wrap his arms around her, tighter than Bull or any man could ever fucking hold her. He wanted to kiss her, taste every unsaid word on her lips. To touch her in ways that would leave her gasping, begging, crying out for more of him. He wanted to tell her that his days started and ended with her. Every single one of them since the moment his mouth tasted hers.

“Evie!” There was a shout from behind them. She pulled away from him with a jolt, her curtain of dark hair whipped around her shoulders.

“You’ve got a line of men in here wondering when they’re getting their dance!” Nixon called, speaking for the masses he was gesturing to inside the building.

“Yes, sir!” She responded, smiling brightly. She turned to Joe briefly. He swallowed the ball of fire making its way up from his belly. ‘Be good,’ she mouthed at him. She turned on her heel, the sweet smell of her perfume wafting behind her as she made her way back to the bar. Joe let out an exasperated sigh and reached into his pocket for a cigarette.

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malarkgirlypop · 6 months

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BoB dance moves while drunk

inspired by that one post of how they would act when drunk from @contrabandhothead

Dick Winters:

Is a sucker for a slow dance, tries to wrangle anyone onto the dance floor with him but mostly Nix who doesn't like slow dancing. Is very huggy and will whisper unintelligible things in your ear while dancing. Will give you that very drunk I love you smile when he pulls away.

Lewis Nixon:

Does not dance, will not dance. But can sometimes be convinced by Dick if he is drunk enough. Rather would sing loudly while sitting down.

Ronald Speirs:

When very intoxicated will boogie, he is the one who will just stand in the middle of the dance floor and jump up and down. While trying to sing the song but he doesn't know the lyrics so he drunkenly sings nonsense at you. Goes from one group to the next. If dancing in a circle he will jump in the middle and bust a move before disappearing. Lip will sometimes have to wrangle him away from people cause he is interfering with their night.

Carwood Lipton:

Is a shy dancer will tap his foot and bob his head to the beat, but spends most of the night trying to contain the very excitable Ron, who is a loose unit on the floor if not supervised. Is always excusing himself to go and get Ron.

Harry Welsh:

Is too drunk to stand, but he can party lying down! Wants to dance with Kitty but can't find her. Would probably pull out moves such as the sprinkler and pushing the trolley.

George Luz:

Does the most bizarre moves you have ever seen. Has his own style called the George. Will spin you round and then need to sit down immediately cause he is going to throw up. Back out onto the floor once he has recovered, him and Ron together are a fucking nightmare, as they harasses innocent bystanders to dance with them. Will high-five you if you get too close, but does the fakeout of "High-five, dolphin dive."

Joe Toye:

Is the best dancer when drunk, like professionally good, but will only dance if very inebriated. Likes to people watch and laugh at the chaos that is George. Will lean and drink and shoo Luz away when he asks him to go and dance. Saying "I will when I finish this drink." But then orders another one so that he can use the same line.

Bill Guarnere:

Dance fights! "you want a piece of me?" then does very complicated footwork. Light on his feet. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. Aggressive dance moves when drunk, will shake you with force if he gets a hold of you. Sings loudly as he dances. Always has the best night.

Joe Liebgott:

Crumps aggressively, somehow is very good a twerking. Knows how to pop that puss. Does that dance move when you hold your leg up and then have the other hand on your head and jump around (idk how to explain this move, but I see it in my head). Will try and incite a dance battle. Always the centre of attention. Likes it that way.

David Webster:

Dances like a basic white girl. Feeling himself up. Is a very weirdly sensual dancer. Kinda gets him going. Will say this is my favourite song to every basic pop song that comes on. Still doesn't know the words though.

Buck Compton:

Will aggressively do the hoe down throw down and somehow has whole choreographed dances to the songs. You will never see him do the same move twice. By the end of the night he has taken off all of his clothes and is drenched in sweat.

Eugene Roe:

Is a modest dancer. Will just nod along while lip-sinking. Will have a confused face on but when people ask him if he is ok just grins at them nodding. Is always looking for Babe.

Babe Heffron:

Manages to integrate himself into a group of people he isn't with for the night, teaches them his signature move that is the dougie. Will pester the person playing the music for the song that goes with the dance so that he can do it all for them. Normally gets his way and does the whole dougie in the middle of the dance circle while people cheer him on. He eats it up every time and brags about it later.

Skip Muck:

Does classic dance moves with Alex. Likes to dance with another person so he has a buddy to shimmey into and then shimmey back. Will do spins with Alex and always does it way too aggressively and sends Alex flying across the floor to crash into people like a bowling ball.

Alex Penkala:

The most clumsy dancer when drunk. Will fall over nothing, Skip does not help either, somehow always managing to push over his friend by accident. Alex is like a fucking bouncy ball and is up on his feet in seconds. Will wake up the next day covered in bruises and is unsure of how he got them.

Donald Malarkey:

Gains the confidence of a professional dancer and believes it, but is totally not. Will totally do that thing where you move your chest up and down and get people to move their hands over him to make it look cool. Likes the song get low, as he likes the part where it goes low, low, low, low so he can do his matrix back bend. Get's worse the more he gets drunk.

Frank Perconte:

Is a fucking B-boy and will break it down, somehow can do head stands and that thing where you spin around on your head, and that one move where you are lying on the ground and push yourself to your feet.

Johnny Martin:

Is a fucking wild card. Some nights he will chill and then others he is breaking it down on the dance floor. It mostly depends on the liquor he is drinking, if it's spirits you're in for a crazy night.

Bull Randleman:

Will line dance to any song, you can't tell him other wise. Does that lasso move to Perconte and lasso's him onto the dance floor, Frank loves it. Will do Gangnam style if drunk enough and will tell you every time his favourite part is the move where you look like you are riding a horse.

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