#ron speirs angst

[mads-weasley]

Knight in Dirty ODs

Ron Speirs x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Hey! I've been in a Ron mood lately, so here is the product of that!! I do not own any characters except (y/n). Enjoy!

Summary: After having complications with her jump into Normandy on D-Day, (y/n) is luckily found by Ron Speirs.

Warnings: mentions of blood, death, broken bones (non-graphic)

D-Day: June 6th, 1944

"Flash."

(Y/n)'s heart beat out of her chest, waiting for the response that might never come. With her rifle held up, sitting up against a tree, she called out again towards the rustle in the bushes.

"Flash."

After a few seconds, she heard another rustle before a face popped out from behind a thicket.

"Thunder."

At the familiar voice, she sighed, leaning her head back against the rough tree bark.

It was Ron.

"(Y/n)? That you, sweetheart?" He asks, his view obscured by darkness.

"Yeah, it's me."

Crouching next to her, he scanned her face and noted the way her brow was pinched, cupping her cheek.

"You're hurt?"

Nodding slowly, she refused to let tears fill her eyes. "It's my leg. I think it's broken."

Leaning down, he kissed her temple softly. "It's okay. I know it hurts."

Ron glanced down at her leg quickly before moving to get a better look at it. As soon as he started to roll up her pant leg, she covered her mouth and let out a muffled cry.

He froze momentarily, heart clenching at her pain, but he had to continue to see the damage. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

When he finished rolling her ODs up to her knee, an unnatural bulge in her shin caught his attention.

With a sigh, he shook his head.

"It's broken. We can splint it and give you a syrette of morphine, but that's all we can do here."

"Ron, I don't know if I can make it to the meeting area. I can't ev-"

He moved to crouch beside her, taking her hand in his. "Yes, you can. We're going to get there together."

The sheer determination in his face convinced her they could. Ron quickly got out his first aid kit and gathered some sticks for her splint. Luckily for (y/n), adrenaline was still pumping in her veins, so the pain hadn't set in fully yet. Both she and Ron knew it was coming.

He pulled out the syrette and held it up. "Ready?"

With a nod, she bit her lip and waited for the prick of the needle. After a few seconds, she felt its prick, and her pain slowly ebbed away into a dull throb. Lazily, she closed her eyes and sighed in relief.

A ghost of a smile was on his face at her relaxation. Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Ron quickly tied the sticks to her leg using strips of her chute. Thankfully, the morphine seemed to knock her out for a minute, so the only pained sounds he heard were quiet whimpers.

He grabbed his M-1 and watched their surroundings for a few minutes so she could rest. Glancing down at his watch, he groaned, knowing they needed to get moving. When morning came, it would be a lot harder for them to move undetected through the French countryside.

"(Y/n). Wake up, doll," he whispered. "I wish you could keep sleeping but we've got to get moving."

The woman's eyes slowly peeled open, and she smiled softly at the sight of Ron before her. "A girl needs her beauty rest."

"Well, you've had enough because you're already the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

A small laugh escaped her lips, but almost immediately, her brows creased.

"How're you feeling?" He asked, brushing her hair back off her sweaty forehead.

"Hurts, but I'll be okay."

"That's my girl."

Grabbing her discarded helmet a few feet away, he plopped it on her head. "Let's get you up."

Ron gripped her underarms and pulled her up as gently as he could. Using her good leg and his help, she stood, but not without white hot pain running up her leg.

Cursing, she threw her arm around Ron's shoulders, leaning on him heavily. He immediately slid an arm around her waist, gripping her hip and pulling more of her weight on him.

"Deep breaths, (y/n/n). The sooner we get to the meeting area, the sooner we can get you proper care."

As they slowly started through the forest, both knew that they had a long journey ahead of them.

"Based on my calculations, we're about 8 miles from the meeting zone."

"Alright," she grunted, taking a step. "We can do this."

1 Hour Later

"You need a break?" Ron asked, hearing (y/n)'s heavy breathing.

She shook her head. "No, I'm okay. I-I just want to get there as soon as possible."

Eyeing her warily, he sighed at her stubbornness. "Alright. But we're taking one soon."

He knew she had the bad habit of pushing through things without taking any time to rest. This often led to her being so exhausted she'd have to go see Doc Roe.

"Sounds good, Sparky."

Rolling his eyes, he returned his gaze to their surroundings, scanning for any unwelcome guests.

2 Hours Later

"That's enough. You need a break, sweetheart."

She scowled at the man. "I'm fine, Ron. We're getting close."

About 10 minutes before, he saw her good foot begin to drag on the forest floor, and honestly, Ron himself was getting tired from supporting her.

"I need a break, then." He replied, leading them over to a downed tree to sit on. Over the last few hours, pain etched her features, no matter how hard she tried to suppress it.

"How's the pain?" He whispered, already knowing the answer.

"It's fine."

"I know you're lying. I can see it on your face," he paused, gently turning her face to look at him. "Tell me the truth."

Her (y/e/c) eyes filled with tears as she threw he arms around him. "It's bad. It's all I can do from falling over every step. I know I'd be dea-"

Suddenly, a cry in German cut through the air, and Ron's eyes widened as he pushed (y/n) off the log and out of the way of the charging soldier. Landing on the ground in a heap, the pain from her leg sent its fiery tendrils across her body until her vision blurred.

Heart racing at (y/n)'s dazed state, Ron tried to grab his pistol, but the German was too close. At that moment, he was thankful for his hand-to-hand combat training at Toccoa, for he quickly got the upper hand and stabbed the man with his own knife through the throat.

He was out of breath as he watched the man meet his end. Panting, he quickly went to (y/n)'s unconscious side.

"(Y/n)!" He whispered, careful not to alert nearby Germans. "I'm sorry. You're okay, sweetheart."

Rolling her onto her back gently, his heart dropped at the sight of her seemingly sleeping face. With a curse, Ron quickly checked over her body for any additional injuries. Just as he was about to try and wake her, another rustle was heard in the trees. He froze, crouching, and pulled out his M-1, aiming it at the noise.

"Flash."

"Thunda'," a cajun accent responded, emerging from the shadows.

"Thank God," the Lieutenant sighed. "Doc, please help (y/n). She's got a broken leg."

As Roe slid onto her other side, he inspected the leg, wincing at its lump.

"What happened?" He asked, eyeing her unconscious form.

"Kraut ambushed us and I pushed her out of the way. It must have jostled the leg. Is she gonna be okay?"

"Probly' passed out from the pain. Did you give her morphine?"

"Yeah," Ron breathed shakily. "About 3 hours ago."

He nodded. "Good job with the splint."

Looking around the trio, Ron felt like they were being watched.

"Let's get moving."

He quickly bent down and hoisted (y/n) into his arms, grunting with the effort. While exhaustion was practically dripping off him, he pushed through, wanting the woman he loved to be safe.

Stepping out of the treeline at the meeting area, Roe started yelling for a stretcher. Seconds later, men came rushing to them. Ron carefully laid her on the stretcher, heart pounding.

She's safe now.

He stood there dumbfounded as the men carried her off to the aid station. Adrenaline had fueled him for the past few hours since the jump, and it seemed it was finally wearing off. His muscles started to ache, and his exhaustion finally settled into his bones.

"You can come with, sir," a private called from the group.

Ron broke from his trance, nodding at the man. "I've got to report to the CP."

With a heavy heart, he made his way to the CP, his thoughts on the (y/h/c) he couldn't get his mind off of.

D-Day + 1

Walking into the field hospital, Ron was hit with the stench of blood and death, which was common since their drop the day before. So many of their men were killed or wounded. The furrow in his brows disappeared at the giggle he heard from the corner of the room.

He knew that sound like the back of his hand.

Making his way over, a smile formed on his face seeing (y/n) awake. Although her lower leg was in a cast, and she had dark circles under her eyes, she had never looked so wonderful.

When she saw him, everything else faded away, including the nurse she was talking to. Noticing her daze, the nurse politely excused herself, giving the couple some privacy.

"Hey," he whispered, gently placing a hand on her hair and sitting on the edge of her bed.

"Hey, you. I was wondering when you were gonna show up."

Panic filled his veins. "I really wanted to stay with you, sweetheart, but th-"

"Ron," she laughed lightly. "I'm not upset. I know you've got a lot on your plate."

Relieved, he moved his hand to her cheek. "How're you feeling? They got you on some painkillers?"

"A little sore, but yeah, they've got me on some good stuff."

Looking into his eyes, her expression became solemn. "Thank you. I wouldn't have made it without you, Ronald."

"(Y/n), no matter what happens, I will never leave you behind, especially if you're wounded. I-I know I don't say it much, but I love you, doll."

A warmth spread through the young woman's body, creeping up her neck. "I love you, too, Sparky."

Ron glanced around them quickly, making sure no one was paying them attention before leaning down and pressing his lips against hers gently. The kiss was quick, but it conveyed all the emotions he wanted it to.

"I'm so glad you're okay, darlin'. Really. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Well, I don't know what I'd do without you, my knight in dirty ODs."

Let me know if you want to be tagged!! :)

#ron speirs fluff #ron speirs x reader #ron speirs #ronald speirs #ron speirs angst #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #bandofbrothersedit #band of brothers masterlist #band of brothers headcanons #matthew settle #ronald speirs x reader #ronald speirs imagine #ronald speirs imagines #mads' fandoms #hbo war #hbo war x reader #hbowar #hbo war imagines #ron speirs x y/n #ron speirs imagine #ronald sparky speirs #sparky speirs

[brassknucklespeirs]

Just thought I’d give you a taste of what’s to come for my next one shot:

Speirs: Why did you do that? Why did you have to be so stupid Y/N?

Y/N: You know why.

Speirs: Don’t say it. Please don’t say it. Not now, not like this.

#band of brothers x reader #band of brothers #ronald speirs #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs #ron speirs imagines #it’s pure angst if you couldn’t guess #this one is definitely going to hurt #no doubt #bring your Band-Aids guys #but tbh I’m likely just going to rip them off clean #and it’s gonna hurt

[bellewintersroe]

Band of brothers masterlist 🤍🩷🤍

Finally! Here’s some direct links to my work so far :)

All boys: general hc’s:

Platonic BoB x reader - angst. Easy boys reacting to seeing their lady lieutenant for the first time. Easy boys x reader how they react to accidentally upsetting you.

Easy boys x reader the morning after their first time. Easy boys x reader the morning after their first time, part 2.

Easy boys x reader in Bastogne.

Easy boys x nurse headcannons p1. Easy boys x nurse headcanons p2.

Easy boys x nurse headcannons p3. Easy’s reaction to nurse reader getting hurt.

Easy boys x nurse how they react to you finding them hurt. Easy boys x reader enemies to lovers.

Easy boys x reader they see you dressed up for the first time. Easy boys x reader they see your scars for the first time. Easy boys x nurse how they react to you having fun in the water.

Easy boys x reader they take care of your baby alone for the first time.

Easy boys x reader how they react to you going MIA.

Part 2.

Easy boys x reader how they comfort you when you’re overworked

Ron Speirs:

Protective Ron Speirs x reader. Snowy Days, Ron x reader.

British girl x Ron headcanons - Ron being in a relationship with a girl from Britain.

Ron Speirs x nurse! OC multiple part smut - when celebrations reach a high in the eagles nest, who knew their hook up would be more than a one time thing?

Part 1.

Part 2.

Part 3.

Part 4.

Part 5.

Part 6.

Part 7.

Ron Speirs x ArmyNurse! OC mini series - Margaret ‘Maggie’ Emerson, an army nurse attached to the 506th parachute infantry regiment, finds herself growing closer to her company’s captain, Ronald Speirs. With war drawing to an end, a side to the mystery that is Captain Speirs is revealed. Both Maggie and Ron have a difficult time resisting their attraction to one another.

Part 1.

Part 2.

Joe Liebgott:

Joe Liebgott x reader x Talbert smut. - you, joe and Floyd have some fun on New Year’s Eve in a foxhole. Joe x reader x Talbert smut p2- Joe and Floyd finally give you what you’ve been waiting for…

Untitled Joe Liebgott x reader Drabble. Joe Liebgott x reader angst- the two times Joe doesn’t want to see you and the one time he does.

Joe x reader x Shifty - a request for how Joe would react when he’s in love with you but you’re with Shifty.

Gene and Liebgott Headcannons - when they think they’ve lost you for good but then you reunite with them days later, worse for wear.

Babe Heffron:

Babe Heffron x oc smut- Babe and OC spend some well deserved time together.

Eugene Roe:

Quiet Confessions, Eugene x reader smut - as the title described, quiet confessions between Gene and reader. Sympathy for the Enemy, Gene x oc - oc struggles with hating the enemy, especially when some of them are just boys. Gene comforts her when the inevitable happens. Vocal Gene x reader smut- Requested by a reader! Gene is obsessed with you and expresses this through being vocal in the bedroom… Friends to Lovers, Eugene x reader smut - you and Gene are friends for the longest time until one night that changes with a steamy exchange whilst walking home…

Gene x reader headcanons - just some headcanons on how your friendship turns into a relationship throughout the time during the war you spend together.

Gene and Liebgott Headcannons - when they think they’ve lost you for good but then you reunite with them days later, worse for wear.

Floyd Talbert:

Floyd x reader smut - Floyd and your tension reaches a boiling point after two years together. Liebgott x reader x Talbert smut - threesome.

Liebgott x reader x Talbert smut p2. - threesome continued!

Talbert + Christenson headcanons.

James ‘Moe’ Alley:

Alley x oc was nurse! Jenny. Headcanons of their developing relationship throughout the war.

part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. part 5.

Skip Muck:

Skip x reader - mutual pinining - friends to lovers arc. Lewis Nixon:

One night stand, Nixon X Reader - after a long night of boozing you and Captain Nixon wake up besides each other, shocked by your actions of the night before.

Chuck Grant:

Chuck x nurse reader headcanons.

Chuck Grant x reader smut.

Alton More:

More x nurse reader headcanons. Shifty Powers:

Joe x reader x Shifty - a request for how Joe would react to being in love with you but you’re with Shifty. Pat Christenson:

Christenson x reader fluff - pat comforts you after Grant is wounded. Christenson + Talbert headcanons.

Dick Winters:

Dick x reader headcanons - on how Dick steals Sobel’s gf.

#Band of brothers masterlist #Band of brothers imagines #Band of brothers x reader #band of brothers headcannons #ron speirs #Joe liebgott #floyd Talbert #skip muck #Eugene Roe #Babe Heffron #james moe alley #Shifty powers #pat christenson

[bloodstainedsaint]

navigation

hello, welcome to my blog! i write for the characters of band of brothers! i go by saint, bluebonnet, or nurse! below the read more includes my masterlist, to-write list, who i write for, request status and rules, and a little about me!

♤FIC HIGHLIGHT: louder than bombs (george luz x medic! reader angst)

♠️: for #bobcollab, i'm open to doing edits, moodboards, and fics!

masterlist

dick

things better left unsaid. (dick winters x nurse! reader angst)

noises in the bedroom with dick winters (smut hcs)

of sweet teeth and indulgence (dick winters x reader)

ron

rumors and gossip (ronald speirs x nurse! reader smut)

sticky fingers (ronald speirs x reader smut)

lew

loose lips sink ships (lewis nixon x medic! reader)

gene (platonic)

eugene roe x best friend + medic! reader (hcs)

lieb

the sniper (joseph liebgott x sniper! reader)

when worlds collide (joseph liebgott x air force! reader)

misc

noises in the bedroom with ron, lew, lieb, luz, and shifty (smut hcs)

to-write list

nothing yet!

i write for:

dick winters

ronald speirs

lewis nixon

joe liebgott

eugene roe (in a platonic capacity)

george luz

shifty powers

babe heffron

+ anyone else platonically (if i'm familiar enough with them — ex: bull, my bbygirl)

requests: CLOSED

as of right now, requests are not open since i want to get through some original ideas (+ i haven't made request rules yet)

about me

link to my original (unedited) post

+ if you couldn't tell, i am an absolute sucker for nurse/medic reader 😭😭

my thoughts on show vs real life

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #hbo war #band of brothers fanfic #hbo war fanfic #dick winters #richard winters #ronald speirs #ron speirs #lewis nixon #joe liebgott #joseph liebgott #george luz #easy company #101st airborne #band of brothers imagine #eugene roe #doc roe

[mercurygray]

I don’t know if you’re still accepting prompts but if you are could I get a Ron and Billie Jealous au for your brand of brothers fic? Or one where Ron leaves his wife for Billie (I know it’s messy but babe I love drama and I need angst)

I'm so sorry this took so long, Maddie! I went in a slightly different direction with this, but it's a scene I've been meaning to write for a while - the two of them meeting post-war and post-everything.

Hawaii was supposed to be nice, this time of year.

That was what all the travel adverts said, anyway - not that Billie would get much of a chance to see it. Airline stewardesses didn't make enough to take a week away on the beach - an overnight in the airport hotel, perhaps a daiquiri in the bar, and then it was straight back out the next morning, listening to all those eager vacationers asking how she'd liked the sand and the surf.

But despite those setbacks Billie could honestly say that she liked her job. The pay was good, and the hours weren't terrible, and she could say that she'd been to some fabulous places over the last five years - up to and including not spending any time at home in Philadelphia with her mother, who would keep wondering aloud when she was going to get married. When are you going to meet someone, her mother kept asking. Surely there are single men on planes.

What, you mean all of those bored businessmen looking for a little heavy petting away from home? Those single men? Those were the only kind she met these days - unless you were talking about the pilots, who were just as bad at keeping commitments.

No, she wasn't going to meet anyone here, and that was just the way she liked it. At present she had no obligations and nothing to tie her down, and that was just the way she liked it, too. Billie fixed on her face in the forward galley and made her way down the aisle, offering to help 7B with her bag, and to find a souvenir plane for the little boy in 12C.

There was laughter, a few rows back - a group of officers in class As, crusher caps and all, each with an identical briefcase and a smile that only got wider as she walked by. Hawaii was probably only a stopover for them - one night at the airbase and then on to Japan. Five years ago they wouldn't have been laughing about this flight - but five years was a long time. Billie tried to move by, brushing by the one joker who was still loitering in the aisle.

"And how about you, gorgeous?" he asked with a grin. "Are you free when we get there?"

One born every minute. "Terribly sorry, gentlemen, but I have other plans."

"Aw, but are they more fun than us?" his friend asked, rising from his own seat to block her in a moment, taking one hand and wrapping his free arm around her waist, his hand resting casually on her ass. "Maybe some drinks and dancing?"

Billie felt her blood rising, felt the urge to clench her fist and punch him square in the gut starting to pick up speed. She'd be allowed, if she were somewhere else. But stewardesses had to be cleverer with their jabs. She was just mustering her very best smile when someone spoke behind her.

"Is there going to be a problem here, Captain?"

Immediately the hands dropped - and Billie's face did, too. I know that voice. "No, Major Speirs, sir. Of course not."

And then there was another man behind her, looming. "When you speak to a lady, you call her ma'am." She took a deep breath, and turned around, only to come face to face with the same familiar dark eyes she knew she'd find. "Miss Mitchell."

It was a good thing the other man had called attention to his rank, because she wouldn't have been able to see it. She was too busy looking at him. "Major Speirs." And it took every ounce of strength she had not to call him Ron, because here he was, and exactly as she remembered, and the way his voice wrapped itself around her core felt as though it were only yesterday that they'd been in bed together, chuckling over shared cigarettes.

And one of his men had been feeling her up, and he looked spitting mad about it. Or at least, as mad as Ron ever looked, which was to say he had a kind of fire behind his eyes that you wouldn't notice until it burned you.

A bell rang overhead for the captain to speak, and everyone resumed their seats - and now those eyes were following her through the whole plane.

Billie knew how she looked to men in her uniform- the pencil skirt, cut to display a tight derriere and a fine pair of legs, the tailored coat with its bracelet sleeves, the pert hat over perfect hair. But she was unsure, now, how she looked to him. Did he like tight skirts, or the look of her calves in seamed stockings and heels? Was the way she dressed her hair now still attractive? Or did he only love the woman in fatigues with her unwashed hair in a braid, the one he could ask, laughing, Has anyone told you today you're beautiful?

She didn't know. And she wasn't sure she could stand the answer if she asked.

The captain turned the loudspeaker on, mentioning the gateway, and taxiing, and takeoff, and everyone took their seats and put their seatbelts on, and the engine roared them down the jetway. Billie's stomach was already in her mouth.

Ron Speirs. On her airplane.

It wasn't quite a full flight to Hawaii - eager vacationers, anxious for the sun, businessmen talking rice and pineapple and a dozen other commodities, and the small contingent of officers, all of whom seemed to have learned their lesson the first time and refrained from saying more than two words to her as she went by. All of them - and Ron.

She brought the cart around for drinks, tidied away newspapers and magazines, and studiously avoided him until she was doing the second round of drink service and he flagged her down. The seat next to him was empty, taken up by a briefcase and his own crusher cap - the privileges of rank.

"Billie, please. Stay a moment."

"I have a job to do."

"I'll take coffee."

She poured it without thinking, straight black, nothing in it, just the same way he'd always drunk it during the war, and set the cup down in front of him. "Some cream and sugar, please," he said, and she stared for a moment before realizing what it was he was doing - creating a reason for her to stay.

"So they promoted you," she said, taking her time with the sugar. "I didn't know if you'd stay in."

"I didn't have a reason to get out," he said, and as she set the cup down and he steadied it on his table she noticed his hand was bare - no ring. "We…separated," he offered, quietly. "There was …someone who needed her more." The casual way he said it nearly broke her. "I see one of us did all right, though," he said, smiling as he gestured to the diamond solitaire on her own hand. "Who's the lucky fellow?"

She looked down at the ring like she'd forgotten it was there - because she had forgotten she had it on. Her hand clenched like that would somehow hide it. "Oh, he - he doesn't exist. Sometimes it helps with - deterrence."

"And what do you tell them about him, when they ask?"

I tell them that he's very handsome, and we met during the war, and that he's a captain in the army. "Oh, this and that. Pretty lies." She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry it didn't work out."

"I am, too." He glanced up at her with a brief smile, as if he were somehow afraid to hold her eye. "Do they give you some time for fun, after these long hauls?"

"Not much," she admitted. "But I can smell the sea, from the airport hotel, and that's usually good enough."

"They have me at the airport, too," he said vaguely. "Army travel budgets."

Down the aisle, someone else gestured, and she replaced the coffee on her cart. "Don't let me keep you," he offered, and she continued on down the row.

15C needed a gin and tonic with less emphasis on the tonic and more emphasis on the gin, and as she poured, her eyes glanced backwards down the aisle, catching a glimpse of dark eyes leaning slightly to the left, watching her from behind his hand with a different kind of fire, his coffee untouched in front of him.

Hawaii was nice, this time of year - if you had time to see any of it, that is. But five years was a long time.

(She was just hanging up her uniform when there was a knock at the door, and a pair of dark, fiery eyes behind it - tie loose, very sober. He looked her in the eye with longing. "Has anyone told you today you're beautiful?")

#asked and answered #maddiethefashionista #billie mitchell #ron speirs x oc #tds cinematic universe

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Hey can you please recommend your favorite ron speirs fics? If it's angst then it even better lol. Thank you!

Hello, so I’ve complied a list of the fics that I can think of off the top of my head. I’m sure there are going to be more I think of later so if I find any more I’ll edit this post to add them 😊

‘Keeping You Safe’ by @mads-weasley

‘For The Better’ by @lostinthewiind

‘For Me’ by @mads-weasley

‘A Rare Night Of Peace’ by @problematicfavesareproblematic

‘Ares and Athena’ by @softguarnere

‘You Make Me Want Things’ by @inglourious-imagines

‘Devil In Disguise’ by @yeahcurrahhe-e

‘Stained Glass Secrets’ by @lostinthewiind

‘Day Of Days’ by @yeahcurrahhe-e

‘Alone, Together’ by @softguarnere

‘Cuddly Mornings’ by @inglourious-imagines

‘Knight In Dirty ODs’ by @mads-weasley

‘Mistletoe Kisses’ by @lieutenant-speirs

#Ronald Spiers fic recs #band of brothers #ronald spiers

[softguarnere]

I'm really happy right now because like i said i really love reading your works and i wasn't going to ask another writer if they can write an imagine for me 🥺 I'm an engineering student so can you write something like reader is a mechanical engineer in army and let's say there is a problem with weapons in Easy company so she is tasked with controlling and fixing the weapons. While there she hears the rumors about what Speirs did to Nazi POW's and begins to fear and disgust him because she is still a bit of humanist and this bothers Speirs because he has started to have feelings for the reader. I really like angsts with happy endings. I hope writing this is not a problem for you. Please don't force yourself and take care of yourself 💖🙏 (Also sorry for my shitty english i'm not a native speaker)

If You Strip Away the Myth From the Man

Ron Speirs x reader

A/N: Confession: I live in constant fear that I'm writing Speirs wrong. This was such a fun prompt, and I hope that I did it justice. (And don't worry about your English, Anon! It's very good, and I would be a hypocrite if I complained.) I hope you're also taking care of yourself, and I hope you like this 💕🕊️ This title comes from Heaven On Their Minds from Jesus Christ Superstar

(This is written for the fictional depiction from the show -- no disrespect to the real life veterans!)

Warnings: language, mentions of war

Rumors, you’re starting to realize, move faster than anything else in the army. If orders and supplies could move as fast as rumors do, then maybe the war would have been over by Christmas the way that everyone kept claiming that it would be. Then you wouldn’t have spent those terribly cold days in Bastogne, freezing in the cold earth in between running from different locations, trying to adjust and fix various weapons whenever the army ordered you to do so.

But if not for that, then you wouldn’t have been brought here – to Easy Company in Haguenau.

It’s not the first time that you’ve visited this particular company. You’ve linked up with them before, briefly exchanged pleasantries with the men while you fix whatever problems they might be having with their weapons. Some of their faces have become recognizable, but their names have eluded you.

Until now.

With the end of the war so close at hand – allegedly; it’s all being said by the same people who claimed that the war would be over by Christmas – the army isn’t willing to risk anything going awry. That’s why they’ve assigned a munitions expert to every company for the foreseeable future. Which is fine by you. At least now you won’t be running to and fro with no clear sense of what might happen next. It seems to be fine with the men of Easy Company, too, seeing as they welcome you with open arms . . . And they certainly waste no time in letting you in on the company’s history and hearsay. Especially, it would seem, when it regards their new Captain.

“He wasn’t in charge the last time I paid you guys a visit,” you remark, nodding to the tall man walking by with purposeful strides.

“Who, Speirs?” One of the men – Sisk, you’re pretty sure by this point – clarifies. He lowers his voice, even though the captain in question is already out of earshot, having disappeared into one of the tattered building’s other rooms. “Yeah, if there’s one thing we like to do around here, it’s cycle through captains.”

The last person you can remember being in charge of Easy was Winters. He seemed like a fine man, and the men all seemed to like him. That was back in Holland. God, it feels like forever ago now. You tell Skinny as much.

He laughs. “You’re behind on the times. There were more after Winters. But Speirs has been one of the best we’ve had since him.”

“Yeah, especially after Dike,” another man – Liebgott – adds.

The funny guy – Luz, you remember – laughs. “There’s someone who set the bar real low.” Then, in a serious voice that you’ve rarely heard him use, “Speirs really has been good.”

The rest of the men who are hanging out in the supply room nod in agreement.

“Yeah, and he seems to like us really well. Doesn’t have to worry about keeping us in line,” someone else snickers. The men all laugh at that.

Okay, so there’s a joke there, you think. One that you’re not privy to. And the men must realize it too, because their smiles fall when they notice that you’re not laughing along with them.

“You haven’t heard?” Skinny asks. “The stories about Speirs, I mean.”

Rumors? Or stories? Either way, you haven’t heard much about Easy’s new captain, other than that he’s new and, apparently, there are stories about him. You shake your head.

Luz whistles. “Well then, (Y/L/N), you’ve got some catching up to do.”

. . .

One of the good things about your job is that you mostly stay around privates and NCOs. Officers only come to you if they have a question, and that’s a rarity. You don’t mind the officers of Easy. From what you’ve seen, they’re wonderful leaders. However, after hearing the stories about Speirs in the week or so since you’ve joined the company, you’re glad of an excuse not to be around him – a goal that is becoming harder by the day.

Speirs has been spending more time than usual among the privates and the NCOs. No one else seems to mind, if they notice, but your heart turns to a block of ice every time that you see him enter the room. For God’s sake, this man is a murderer, and they’re letting him walk around free? It’s one of the stranger things that you’ve experienced since joining up.

Maybe it’s because of what he did at Foy. Running headfirst into danger to link two companies and then running back? It doesn’t even seem possible. That newest story seems to be what the men of Easy Company are most focused on. Impressive, yes, but you can’t think of it without also thinking of the stories of the POWs he mowed down in cold blood, after offering them cigarettes, of all things.

If there’s one thing you’ve learned since the war started, it’s that seeing combat makes some people lose their humanity and their morals. You’ve been lucky enough to hold onto yours. Even though sometimes it feels like your grip is slipping or that you’re holding on so tight that the effort makes your fingers ache, at least you’ve retained your decency. And you won’t let it go now.

“Morning, Captain Speirs!” McClung calls out as the captain enters the room for breakfast.

The captain nods his greetings to the other men, who keep talking as if nothing has happened. They used to fall silent when he walked into a room, as if the sound of their amiability would set him off. Now they continue on as if any of the other men have walked into the room. Sometimes they even try to invite him into a joke.

You, though, cannot forget the stories that you’ve heard. There is still goodness in the world, even if people like Captain Speirs cannot handle knowing that. When he takes a seat a few people down on the other side of the table, you avert your eyes and engross yourself in a story that Heffron is telling instead of acknowledging the presence that you cannot help feel is always keeping an eye on you.

Paranoia, you tell yourself, is a hell of a thing.

. . .

Laughter is the first thing that Speirs notices when he approaches the basement where all the men are having their breakfast. It doesn’t stop when he enters the room this time, like he’s snuffing out a flame. Some of the men even nod to him in greeting when he shows up in the mornings. For all the rumors that trail behind him – he’s aware of them; rumors always have a way of reaching their subject – it would seem that his men have either elected to ignore them or have forgiven his supposed sins.

Well, the men have, anyway. The new munitions expert, (Y/L/N), doesn’t seem to care much for him. He’s assuming that’s because of the rumors. It has to be. Any time that he enters a room, she used to make the same frightened look that all the men were constantly giving him after the jump into France. Now she won’t even look at him most of the time. When she does, it’s only to glance at him before looking away again, like she’s disgusted by his presence.

Speirs didn’t join the military to make friends. No, when he was drafted he knew that he needed to perform his duty to his country. The rumors that have begun to cling to him are a side effect of turning into a soldier. Gossip never bothered him very much. And neither did the scared looks people gave him.

Until now. For some reason it bothers him that you won’t even so much as look in his direction. Sometimes he even finds himself wondering what he can do to change that.

Today he greets his men, takes his breakfast – er, what bland food is passable enough that they’ve started calling it breakfast – and turns to find a seat among the others. Before he can question his own intentions, he moves with long, quick strides to the seat across from you.

“Morning, Cap,” several of the men greet him.

“Morning,” he replies, trying to ignore the way that you freeze at the sound of his voice and the way that your eyes go wide when you look up at him. His stomach drops. This is like being fifteen and getting rejected by the girl that he likes all over again. Something about it is nerve-racking and devastating all at once.

Maybe he should have brushed off all those rumors back when he had the chance – back before they clung to him so tightly that the myth became inseparable from the man.

. . .

The day after the patrol is atypical. Sleep eludes most everyone, despite the events of the night. Those who can catch a few moments of rest. Everyone else tries to stay out of their way, careful not to make too much noise. It’s unusual to see the men of Easy Company so subdued, their moods somber and their voices quiet.

The deck of cards you managed to nick while Luz wasn’t looking are a comforting weight in your hand as you walk the halls of the skeletal building. Heffron always seems to be up for a game of cards. And if not him, then surely someone else will be willing to play, eager to distract themselves after the events of the night.

“ – did all you could,” a voice in a room up the hallway from you is saying. It’s familiar, but its tone is . . . gentle and . . . reassuring.

Slowly, you inch forward, wanting to see if the voice really does belong to him – if he really is capable of being so soothing – but not wanting to interrupt the conversation. Or worse, make it seem like you’re eavesdropping. (Which, technically, is exactly what you’re trying to do. No one else needs to know that, though.)

The disheartened voice of Doc Roe answers. Funny, you’ve never heard his voice sound so dispirited. Somehow, the roles in the conversation have been flipped.

“We still lost a man,” Roe says. “Is there any way we can get more supplies? I know they’re hard to come by right now, but I don’t feel prepared.”

A beat of silence follows. You’re by the doorway now. Carefully, you peek around to see Roe and Speirs in the room. Roe looks upset and Speirs looks inscrutable, as usual. You watch as he thinks for a moment before he reaches out and claps Roe on the shoulder.

“I’ll see what I can do,” he assures the medic. “But Doc, you did all you could. Remember that.”

Roe nods. “Thank you, Captain.”

Quietly, you move back from the doorway as their meeting ends and footsteps approach. Thankfully it’s Doc who exits the room, and he closes the door behind him. He’s still for a moment and lets out a sigh. You don’t move, but he turns to you anyway and offers a small smile as he starts down the hall in your direction.

“You know,” he says as he passes you. “Captain Speirs is really an understandin’ guy underneath all that toughness.”

Then he continues down the hall, leaving you standing there, alone, considering what you just overheard: something soft and unexpected – much different from the Speirs you know . . . or think you know.

. . .

Rules are a fickle thing. They probably exist in Austria in some form or another. Yet no one seems to know what they are, and those who hint that they do don’t seem too keen to follow them. The mountainous landscape quickly becomes a place of fun and fraternization. Not to mention any of the other activities that the army would surely frown upon. Like the looting.

“I’ll trade you,” Perconte entices you for the hundredth time.

“Perco, what do you need with another watch?”

The Italian smiles. “Just startin’ a collection, (Y/N). And I intend for it to be the best in the whole army.”

“Uh huh. But you want this watch why?”

Maybe it’s the heat of the spring afternoon, but it looks like a shade of pink tinges Perconte’s cheeks. He scratches the back of his neck and shrugs. “All I have are men’s watches. And that one – “ he nods to the one on your wrist. “ – is exactly what I got in mind for a certain girl back home.”

“Awe, Perco. Who’d have guessed that the war would turn you so sentimental?”

“Shut up.”

The watch you brought from home was broken during basic training on an obstacle course. Your second one got scratched up at some point after the Allied Invasion, and continued to get worse until one day you looked down and realized that you couldn’t tell the time on it. You only kept it on because its familiar weight was somewhat of a comfort. Now, in Austria, with so much finery everywhere, it wasn’t hard to find a new one. Still, it’s not exactly anything special – just a slim but study leather band holding a beautiful gold watch face. It’s practical, if not a little hard to read the small numbers.

Maybe Perconte isn’t the only one that the war has turned all sentimental. It’s sweet that he’s thinking of someone back home that he wants to impress. Besides, you can always find a new watch.

It unclasps easily and you hand it over to him, watching his smile grow. “I hope she likes it.”

“Gee, thanks (Y/N)! You’re a lifesaver!” He thumps you on the shoulder before taking off with the watch, whistling while he goes. You watch him, smiling to yourself. Home is on the horizon. All anyone can do is hope for someone as thoughtful as Perconte to have remembered them fondly enough to give them a token of their affection.

“He’s in a good mood.”

You freeze as you register the presence by your side. Like Hades and his Helm of Darkness, Speirs has materialized out of nowhere. When did he get here?

“Yes, Sir. He is.”

“Say,” Speirs says casually. “You wouldn’t happen to have the time, would you?”

What an odd question. You turn to face him, only to find an unfamiliar expression on his face. He wants you to answer, even though it seems like he knows exactly what answer to expect from you.

“No, Sir. I just gave my watch to Perconte.”

“Oh. That’s inconvenient.”

“I suppose it is.”

Speirs digs in his pocket. “Well, no one should walk around not knowing what time it is. How about you take this one?”

In his hand, when he extends it to you, is a beautiful silver watch. A bit bigger than the one you just gave away, and definitely flashier. Diamonds encrust the watch’s face like a crown on a monarch. The silver band looks more delicate than the leather one you’ve grown used to in the past few days, but it’s undeniably beautiful.

For some reason, you nod. You extend your own hand to receive the watch.

“Here,” Speirs says. “Allow me.” His voice rises slightly at the end, like it’s a question. He pauses, once again waiting for your answer. When you nod, he takes your hand and carefully fastens the watch onto your wrist. You’re standing so close that all you can do is pray that he doesn’t notice the way that his fingers ghosting over your wrist makes your breath hitch in your throat. He’s unexpectedly gentle. You never would have imagined that his hands – which have wielded such unbridled violence, so you’ve heard – could be so soft.

“There,” he says when he’s done. He smiles as you turn your wrist, admiring the gift. “It’s beautiful. Silver suites you.”

Anything that you might have hoped to say, even a thank you, gets lost in the haze of his unexpected words. How can this man who stands before you be the same one who mowed down POWs in cold blood, or who shot his own sergeant? And why is he showing such kindness to you?

Finally, you manage to clear your throat. “Thank you, Captain Speirs. You’re very kind.”

He nods, smiling in a way that you’ve never seen before. He turns to go, but you step forward to stop him.

It’s strange, the way that things have of unexpectedly falling into place while we watch on, helpless to stop our own actions. Yet something about this Speirs is so . . . different from everything you’ve heard.

But not what you’ve seen, you think, remembering the conversation you caught him having with Doc Roe. Maybe you should find out more about this version of Speirs before he slips away.

“Captain,” you say with a pounding heart. “I was just about to go find something to eat. I was wondering . . . I was wondering if you might like to join me?”

Speirs’ smile grows. “I would like that very much.”

Before either of you can change your mind, you begin walking down the Austrian streets together. You’ve been with Easy Company for a while now and have grown close with most of the men. It’s high time that you got to know your Captain; the real version of him – not the one that everyone else introduced you to.

“So,” you begin. “Where are you from?”

#ron speirs x reader #ron speirs #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #hbo war fanfic #hbo war #my writing

[softspeirs]

for the one word prompt, can we maybe see #14 for kat & ron ? - @rosiegirlie

#14 - “bitter” … ooh. OOH. A great opportunity for some angst!

They've been in Haguenau for a week with no relief in sight - not from the front line, and not from the ceaseless, cold rain.

Ron Speirs squares his shoulders as he prepares to head into the CP to prepare himself for the fight that's sure to come.

It's the second time in as many days that he's pulled Kat off a patrol that Martin had picked her for. To his credit, Martin was less than thrilled and made so secret about it, but now Ron has to face the woman herself, who also, coincidentally, he made some pretty bold romantic overtures to not a week before.

He knows he's confusing her. Hell, he feels the whiplash himself. So he's come to check on her, to try to explain himself.

It's dark inside, the electricity long since cut off from this building and the surrounding neighborhoods. After dark they don't even try to light anything for worry the artillery will zero in on them.

The light of the moon in the fading twilight is all he has to go on, and he touches a hand to the smooth stone of the entryway as he finds his way inside.

There are a few low murmurs from inside, up the stairs. He recognizes Winters and Nixon's low voices, and knows Kat won't be far away.

She's been sequestered here while she recovers from her sickness, against her will. It took a lot of arguing and Lipton's calm reasoning to even get her to agree to sleep in a real bed in the first place, and she’s been furious about it.

He slips in pretty well unnoticed, up the stairs and to a room on the left. She’s in bed, bundled up and scratching at a few loose sheets of paper. She looks surprised initially when she sees him, but her expression quickly morphs into disinterest bordering on anger.

“Captain.”

He sighs. He had at least hoped she’d cut him some slack now that they were… doing whatever this is.

“Kat. Can I sit for a second?” He gestures toward the rickety wooden chair near the door.

She shrugs. “Someone might hear you.”

“If you want me to go, I will.”

He misses the way she looked at him a few days ago, eyes alight with affection and wanting. He swallows hard.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” She picks at a loose thread on the blanket covering her lower half. “Headache and a cough still.”

She’s talking to him like he’s a stranger. It makes something tighten in his gut.

“You’re angry with me.”

She meets his gaze directly. There’s something like hurt in their depths that has him clenching his jaw.

“I’m not angry. I— you’re my CO and I respect that, but I don’t appreciate you making decisions for me.” She bites the inside of her cheek. “Like taking me off a patrol roster even though I was requested.”

“You aren’t well, you need rest. I was making a decision that was best for the squad, not just you.”

“That’s not what it looks like to everyone else.” Her words are sharp, bitter like he’s never heard from her before. “You can’t make special exceptions for me.” Her voice softens, “Please.”

He exhales roughly. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“It is!” She exclaims, her voice a loud whisper. He turns to make sure no one has overheard them and then gets up to close the door fully.

He walks back toward her bed, abandoning the chair and sitting on the edge of her mattress. “I’m—“ he swallows hard. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to… to be…”

“To be using your rank and position to make decisions for me because we’re involved?”

He blinks rapidly, flinches back from her like he’s been struck. Involved. Such a simple word, not totally incorrect, but so so wrong to describe his intentions with her.

Involved doesn’t begin to cover it. Doesn’t incapsulate the way his heart beats it’s way out of his chest at the mere sight of her, the way her laugh and her voice have imprinted themselves in his brain.

He has known for a long time that while his advances and feelings are reciprocated, she doesn’t feel as strongly as he does. And he’s been fine with it. But not in the face of this bitter anger from her.

She seems to realize that she’s been harsh. “I’m— I don’t mean to diminish…” She sighs, frustrated with herself. “If this is going to work, we have to figure out a way to communicate with each other. And you need to understand how important it is to me that you don’t treat me differently now.”

“I do understand that, Kat. I do.” He rescues out and takes her hand. “I’m sorry. I truly was only trying to make sure you got the rest you needed and Roe handled the patrol. That’s all.”

She squeezes his hand. “Thank you for listening.”

It’s funny how her strength of will and the way she fights for herself only endears her to him more, even though he’s still seeking her forgiveness. He can’t fault her for making her own way. If anything, having a clear line between them should make things easier. He hopes so, anyway.

The smile she gives him when he tugs her blanket up higher is genuine, not the bitter thing he’d seen from her earlier in the day when he gave her orders to go back to bed.

“Get some sleep.” He whispers. His smile is a shy thing he can barely control.

“Tomorrow I’m doing my shift.” She insists, even as her eyes are sliding shut.

“We’ll see.” He says, chuckling as she cracks open one eye to glare at him as he heads out the door, pulling it shut behind him.

#ron and kat my beloveds #thank you for requesting them bailey!!!!! #softspeirs band of brothers fanfiction #ron speirs x oc #ron x kat #oc: kat gray #band of brothers fanfiction

[iceman-kazansky]

Hello iceman-kazansky. Can i request some headcanons (or reactions i don't know which one is true) with eugene roe and ronald speirs? Their fiancee wants to break up after war because she wants to forget everything and thinks that she will experience the same traumas again everytime when she looks in her fiancee's eyes. It's up to you whether the ending will be happy or not. It's not a problem if you are not comfortable with writing this. I really like your blog and i don't mind if you decide not to write 🤎 <your malarkey fic was 🤌🤌🤌 btw>

Pairings: Ronald Speirs x f!reader, Eugene Roe x f!reader

Requested by: Lovely anon who happened to make my week (possibly month) with their kind words

Summary: Ronald Speirs and Eugene Roe headcanons to how they would react to their significant other wanting to break up after the war due to trauma

Warnings: Fluff? Angst? Idek but I hope those who read enjoy

A/n: I’M SO  SORRY THIS WASN’T DONE SOONER ANON 😭I wanted it done a lot sooner but sadly some things happened. I’m also sorry that these are super short, I so wish I could’ve made them a lot larger and had more points. I hope you enjoy Anon, for these are my first ever attempt at headcanons 

----

Eugene Roe

-First off my baby boy 🥺

-he would be so, so, so sad but understanding at first, he'd just be like "Okay, if that's really what you want ☹️" 

-although, once you explained it to him that he was a reminder of the trauma and horrors of war, he would be reassuring and comforting af

-He'd talk to you about how you and him would get through the unexplainable and horrific things you'd seen in that long multiple-year span together 

-"I'm here to talk and be with you, through thick and thin; no matter what; I love you. Please know that I'll continue loving you until the day I die."

-He wouldn’t admit it but the things he’d seen, the things he’d done scarred him and stuck with him long after the war and he was desperately in need of someone to talk to so him being able to just comfort you was also helping him get through the trauma of war

-Would definitely offer therapy or a person you could tell your deepest, hardest memories and your shoulder to cry on when you reminisced about your friends' deaths

-If he did persuade you to stay, he'd try comforting you a lot more and taking note of everything that could upset you

-When he does notice you upset over things, he goes out of his way to take care of you, such as buying flowers, chocolates, and anything he could

---

Speirs:

 -"Of course not! But you remind me every time I look at you; I can see the horrors written in your eyes Ron. Every time I look at you I can see Hoobler or... or.. Jackson's scared gaze.. That boy- he died in my arms that night in Haganeau and I-"

-When you tell him he'd go quiet and just stare at you in numb shock

-after you finished he'd ask "Is this what you really want?"

-IMMEDIATELY would be so soft with you

-"Oh, Honey" 

-He’d hold you in his arms all soft but at the same time firm and steady, he’d also try to talk to you, especially if you started crying, and would be the type to whisper sweet nothings into your ear while you dealt with the distressing memories

-I headcanon he is a real war-hardened veteran on the outside but once you get to know him he’s so kind and caring and an overall very nice person to be around

-When you were finished and you (probably?) realized it wasn’t a good idea to break up with the one thing you knew to be your solace in the rocky world you were only now adapting back into after the horrors of war. Speirs was your soon-to-be husband; your rock in a hard place; a sturdy tree to stand under in a thunderstorm. Speirs was your world and how you’d failed to notice that was nearly catastrophic

-like minutes after, when you’d come to your senses, you’d apologize profusely for even bringing up the idea, but Speirs wouldn’t care; he’d kiss you and hold you and reassure you he was going to stick with you until the very end of time

#x reader #female reader #band of brothers #iceman kazansky #ronald speirs headcanons #ronald speirs x f! reader #ronald speirs #eugene roe #Eugene Roe headcanons #Eugene Roe x F!reader #BoB #Headcanons #.Requested #♤ Requests

[holdingforgeneralhugs]

My dear, Emma!!!

Can I have a headcanon with Toye, Speirs, and Luz on the topic of ✨jealousy✨? Thank you so much!!! The jealousy trope with some angst/fluff is my favorite, haha. Have a great day, Emma!

Thank you dear anon! Oh we love a bit of jealousy and angst up in here it's addictive 🙈

Joe Toye

He just gets all broody and sullen because he doesn't want you to know he's jealous.

He tries very hard not to look over at you with him but he can't help it. His eyes keep getting drawn to you and his mood gets more sour by the minute.

His hand grips his glass so hard his knuckles turn white

When you come back over you can tell that he's off just by the hard set to his jaw and his grip on his drink, and you smirk when you see him glaring daggers at your friend.

"Oh sweetie are you jealous," you teased, squeezing his arm. He rolled his eyes and you giggled fondly at his antics. "He's only a friend from college, and he's married you buffoon."

He tries to bumble through excuses and you wave him off, kissing him sweetly.

Ronald Speirs

One look at his face is enough to tell you all you need to know

You can feel the weight of his glare on the back of your neck and it gives you goosebumps

When you make your way back to him he grabs your wrist and tugs you down a quiet hallway. Before you can utter a word he has you pressed against the wall.

"Y'know he's only an old friend of mine," you whisper, "and trust me he's got no interest in me."

"Well he was looking at you a little bit more than friendly," he grumbled petulantly, brushing his nose against your neck.

"No need for jealousy Ron," you teased, running your fingetd through his hair, "you know I only have eyes for you anyway."

He didn't respond, choosing instead to press a firm kiss against your lips.

George Luz

He tries to bluff it off, act normal and unbothered.

But its the little ticks that give him away.

You notice the little glances in your direction and you chuckle fondly.

When you get back over to him he smiles overly bright, and you can see the way his fingers clench and unclench.

"So who was that guy you were talking to?" He asks casually, but you can see his shoulders tense.

"Why?" You ask with a smirk, "are you jealous?"

"Me? Never," he scoffs, "I would never stoop so low."

"Sure sweetheart," you laugh, kissing him on the cheek, "whatever you say."

Taglist:  @tvserie-s-world @geniedocroe @generousdreamlanddestiny @sofietargaryen @cagzzz107 @stolemyspoons @alejodi0nysus @sunflowerchuck @now-im-a-belieber @50svibes @eugene-emt-roe @pennyllane @televisionboy @nandoalonsos @ask-you-what-sir @parajumpboots @mads-weasley @tetragonia

#band of brothers #band of brothers fandom #hbo band of brothers #bob #holdingforgeneralhugs #band of brothers imagine #george luz #ron speirs #joe toye

[yeahcurrahhe-e]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒

〚 𝐑. 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐒 〛

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ➛ language

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 ➛ hi! I saw that your requests are open and I absolutely adore your writing so I was wondering if I could get eight from the angst prompts and/or two from the happy prompts with Ron Speirs? thanks love! — prompts used: “I can’t do this without you” and “wait for me, will you?”

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 was swathed in silence, throngs of paratroopers not yet roused from anxious slumbers — there was still an hour spared for their innocence before they’d be careening feet-first into Hell.

Her own innocence was ticking away on a doomsday clock as she, being a commanding officer, had to secure final preparatory measures, a task that warranted her presence far before the remainder of Easy.

A compact arrangement of maps, stock lists, and company rosters was pinned against her chest as she sat beneath a breadth of one of the numerous stationed C-47’s; Winters and Nixon had ventured off to retrieve more cases of air sickness pills after Roe realized they were short about fifty. Their absence waded a lull into her restless high she had been entertaining for the previous few hours, and she could appreciate the silence before it was tarnished by crossfire, screams, and the other destructive symphonies of war.

She begrudgingly relaxed her back to the towering landing gear of the transport aircraft, absentminded fingers poking and prodding at her dog tags; it was a fine coolness on her skin in the tepid morning. Her languid gaze peered out to the bony black horizon, as the sunrise hadn’t yet drowned out the stark darkness with a bar of radiant gold. She wondered if she had already seen her last sunrise; they’d be descending into Normandy far before any vivid hues could bloom in the sky.

Before her overwrought mind could spin anymore macabre notions, she became abruptly aware that she no longer was alone amidst the sea of planes.

“Come to join in on the contemplation of our impending doom?” Y/N mused, intuition already discerning who had accompanied her there beneath the plane’s shadow.

The subtle gleam of a kindled cigarette and subdued oomph confirmed her instinct as Ron Speirs sat himself alongside her on the tarmac.

“You really shouldn’t be smoking next a plane that’s gassed up to the nines,” she chided, plucking the simmering stick from the bow of his lips, the tip of her boot prompt to extinguish it on the ground.

Ron sputtered out a merge of a scoff and a chuckle, “Well, then I would’ve gone out a way I wanted — before any Kraut got the chance.”

The vexation of being fleeced of his Lucky Strike, naturally vanished at the sight of his childhood best friend’s subtle simper. At how it didn’t quite reach her eyes; at how she may physically be there, yet her mind was already at the mercy of Ares.

“You and your theatrics,” she muttered, sportively nudging against his shin with the round edge of her boot.

Their few exchange of words was sobering enough to allow her from not skidding entirely a rabbit hole, one that seemed to be configured with quicksand. Almost as if they were kids again, the day's grot lacking on their sun-kissed skin as they laid side-by-side on her porch, summer air saturated with their laughter and banter.

It was a memory that lingered like a tattoo in her subconscious, may even come to haunt her the day Death greeted her on some European knoll or a village alleyway.

“I consider it more my last will and testament,” his tone reflected her previous murmur, deliberately filtered agitation manifesting in his fumbling of his crumpled Lucky Strikes carton. Y/N’s awakening forebode hung around like smoke now, and yet he couldn’t kick one indication of empathy out from beneath his toxic pride; their friendship had forever been constructed upon an implicit understanding that Ron wasn’t an overwrought displayer of emotion, and that Y/N was at peace with that. That same concrete pride wouldn’t allow for even war to crack it.

“A real sign of the times,” she halfheartedly stoked the airy banter further, mindful that Ron’s dry humor was a mustered effort to comfort her. Nothing new.

A grumble of obstinance blared in Ron’s head not even seconds later, a reminder from the world that everything beyond this airfield was decaying in destruction and blood, and all they may have eventually is each other — uncomfortable ‘what if’s’ be damned.

Yet, he just let it be, allowed the woman to brood alongside him like a forlorn spirit, though his conscious morally throbbed to do something.

And, by some divine intervention (at least in his perception), Winters and Nixon strode towards them with boxes of pills secured beneath their arms. The redhead part of the duo murmured like a prayer to himself a memorized index of all they had packed, the concise whispers flooding out when Nixon beckoned to Ron and her,

“Hey, Speirs, ‘ya know Dog Company’s plane is all the way down the strip, right?”

Despite Ron’s notoriety of being the toughest and most cutthroat son of a bitch in the Airborne, Lewis Nixon still treated him with an unchanging — yet characteristic — sardonic wit.

“Yes, Captain Nixon, I’m aware,” Ron curtly retorted, dour gaze pinned on the intelligence officer, one entirely disregarded by its recipient but recognized by the young woman at his side. For Y/N, it was amusing to see Ron fuss in a hardly stifled bate of frustration every interaction she witnessed between the two.

“Good. We should actually start to wake up the rest of the company here, Captain Y/L/N. If Speirs doesn’t mind, of course,” Nixon’s brazenness wasn’t cowardly as he spoke to the fellow officer, a trait that had Winters unamused, Y/N smiling subtly, and Ron essentially burning gradually like a furnace.

“Never would hold an officer from their duties,” the Dog Company officer attempted indifference in his response, an altogether miserable effort from where Y/N stood. Ron then nodded towards her, subtle on the fronts that counted in the presence of Winters and Nixon, only meaningful to her; an implicit, ‘wait for me, will you?’ — a trademark of their friendship as their clashing recklessness typically had one of them careening head-first into danger. Now, it was nearly a plea; ‘don’t go dying before I get to you again’.

She nodded back: I will wait if you will.

Then, he’s gone in a tense ballad of footsteps, beckoning down to one of Dog Company’s other leading officers, already delving into the other business demanding his attention. Her own back turns from him a beat later, individual footsteps crooning an uneasy tune as she followed Nixon and Winters to Easy’s billet.

And she’d never know how he turned around, garnering a fleeting glimpse of her silhouette amidst the graphite gloom of the June morning. The what-if’s were ever more haunting as he did, so with a whisper of anxiety bobbing in his stomach, he forced himself to continue on down the strip.

—

SHE HAD LANDED somewhere in Normandy’s far-reaching countryside.

Her heels are what landed roughly first into the crumbly dirt, legs nearly jamming at the jolt of pressure against them. With a haphazard lean on her thigh, then side, she halted her chaotic pace. The abrupt halt had her skidding a few feet in shell casings, shredded pine needles, and rocky sand before a slash of silver liberated her from its burdensome strings.

Replacing her knife to her utility belt, there was the realization of her saturated GI-issued uniform as it adhered oppressively to her skin with sweat. In frustration, she jostled away the puff of white cloth from her already worn body, her sour disposition stoked by the concoction of smells that billowed around her: gun powder, blood, and cow manure.

Despite the overwhelm of misery, she had to continue on. Easy was waiting for her. Ron was waiting for her.

Her legs burned horridly as she bolstered the mingled weight of her gear and herself onto them.

And, as the start of dawn’s sunlit hues split across the gun-powdered air, she recognized that she was alone in the wheat field. Her mind forfeited counting the few snagged paratroopers strung up like rag dolls in the towering trees, subtly swaying by their parachute’s strings when the branch was stirred by the summer breeze.

One branch lamented underneath the dead weight of its unwelcome ornament as she trekked beneath it, the soles of his boots nearly scathing the crown of her head. Y/N suppressed the gag that ached in her throat, jabbing her tongue into her cheek. Just keep going.

She did, even as the bloodcurdling sensation of boot heels almost taunted her down the dirt trail. Even as she knew that the very image of their marionette bodies would forever be dented into her mind. That she’d continue on towards possible salvation, whilst they would forever remain ghostly adornments on a foreign land’s tree, reminders of the price of war.

She hated this.

—

SALVATION — or the best substitute for it — greeted her in a near death scare. It was quick; one moment, she was traipsing through concentrations of mud, then a fleeting whoosh of a bush’s dry ends, accompanied by a purposeful hand on her forearm plucking her behind the shrub, an inherent gasp forced from her as she couldn’t position her weapon quick enough.

And now she was ankle deep in the muck with Ronald Speirs pressing a finger to her mouth, an insinuation that the enemy was nearby.

Something akin to a grunt rumbled at the back of her throat, remnants of shock from presuming she’d be greeting Death rather than him.

His smell of cigarettes and pine swirled around as he then shifted to crouch in front of her, easing her down with him, gesturing to still remain silent.

Both were tainted with the colors of the earth, blood — neither knew if it was their own — and sweat. Their rifles were hoisted by its strap against the subtle heave of their chests, minds pondering in the stern silence if either had to fire them — if either had killed.

A cacophony of disturbed dirt and pebbles then shot through the tension, a chorus of flustered German mingling with it, as the lurking enemy hastened off to a different position; undoubtedly hunting the thousands of paratroopers across the French terrain.

Ron idled, finger still urgently against her lips, keen on assuring that they were genuinely safe. With a reckless glance above the shrub’s bristled top, and all but exposing his head, he confirmed their absence and settled back beneath the hedge’s sanctuary.

“I could have shot you, you know,” Y/N blurted in a coarse whisper, palm pushing away his hand from her mouth, “I still might.”

“You almost walked right into a nest of Krauts. I saved you from having your ass shot to Hell,” he touted, leaning forward with elbows braced on his knees, finger poised for emphasis at her, “You’re welcome.”

The irritation that then irked amidst the camo paint on her face, made him aware that in his cruel attempt to inflict a cut into her recklessness, he had opened Pandora’s Box. And he didn’t like that look.

Therefore Ron Speirs mentally prepared himself for the reprimanding of his life.

“And if I had, you would’ve still bounded out of fucking Timbuktu, pumped them full of bullets and declared yourself a hero,” she muttered, her hushed tone more of a menace that it should be in the silence demanded by being in enemy territory; she was pissed at the world and Ron was unintentionally caught in the crossfire.

She gave a low, humorless whistle, considering him with a vexed tilt of her head,

“Believe it or not,” she continued, “But I can actually handle myself.”

“Y/N—”

She stifled him alarmingly quick, gesturing irately towards herself, “I went through all the same training you did.”

“I know-”

His words fell lame against his tongue once more as she interjected, “I’ve made it miles from whatever shit-filled field I was dropped into all by myself — without backup, without Ron Speirs in his shining armor, and I’m looking a whole lot better off than those who weren’t alone. I know because I walked underneath their strung up corpses on my way here.”

A dull thwack resounded against the earth as she bolstered herself up with aid of her rifle. She exhaled lightly, “I have to go find my company. I’m sure Dog and Easy will link up at some point-”

Ron interrupted her now, fluidly standing to mirror her stance, “I can’t do this without you. That’s why I did what I did — said what I did.”

And replacing all his cocky glory, is now a frown — she wonders if it was a blunder in his typically careful disposition. She wonders if his words are as well.

Y/N rolled her eyes, nearly too belligerently, and sobered the temptation to just walk away with a drawn inhale, “You’re joking, right? Making yourself feel better? I have twenty years of experience to know that you can stand just fine on your own—”

A hand plucked her beneath the flinty gaze of Ron Speirs, chests essentially against the flush of the others.

She twisted around furiously so she could push him away, the essence of a scowl on her face.

Yet, he swiftly thwarted her mid-shove, muttering harshly, “I’ve seen enough shit today to realize that maybe I can’t.”

Y/N then cocked her head, creases at the contours of her eyes as if thinking whilst they glimpsed away from him, and he knew he wouldn’t like whatever response was about to spew out from her, “Cause you need someone to kiss your ass?”

“Maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass, you'd realize that there are some people that give a shit about whether or not you live or die,” Ron essentially snarled in her face, his gaze fervid with fluttering chaos and madness, whetting the edge of his eyes.

The humidity of the summer rain seemed torrid in her lungs now, goosebumps washed across her exposed skin, and she wished she had walked away.

"Like who?" she beckoned in challenge, true to her haughty disposition, and arms folded across her chest.

The one small question had stirred the hurricane in the both of them and their blazing eyes strung in a tightrope in the biting air. Their steady breaths canopied in front of their faces as they glowered at each other, a verbal silence prevailing beneath the din of nearby crossfire.

“Like who, Ron?" she pressed after a beat of silence between them, the fire and gold of frustration in her eyes dripping away as her mind relented to the anticipation of his response.

“Like me," he admitted with his mouth abandoning all moisture for an arid wasteland of desert.

His whole mewl of a rant moments prior had fucked things up for sure. Even as he was blustering and calling into question her competence, he was aware how he was stirring an unspoken pot of exasperation between them. But she had scared him that morning. And Ron Speirs thought himself a fool whenever he fussed in fright over something - someone.

But, as he flanked position behind the dense shrub, and caught her approaching without the wherewithal for the Germans skulking beyond the stretch of greenery, he had felt cornered into a decision to interfere.

“I, uh, have to go — Winters and Nix will be waiting,” she more or less mumbled to herself, nearly as if to shroud the response that yearned on the tip of her tongue. She promptly shifted away from him, stifling a festering fuss that mapped a constellation in her mind.

He was agile — desperate — to snatch onto her hand before she vanished into the grotty cloud of action beyond their makeshift sanctuary.

Then, he squeezed; a precise gesture: wait for me, will you?

Boot still poised to traipse onto the path to the village poking upon the horizon, she squeezed back: I will if you will, because I can’t do this without you, either.

And perhaps, on this day of days, this wouldn’t be another what-if.

#hbo war #hbo war imagine #hbowar #band of brothers #band of brothers imagine #ron speirs

[mads-weasley]

For Me

Ron Speirs x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Hiiiii! I haven't written in a while! Especially BoB! I do not own any rights to these characters. Enjoy!

Summary: After finally leaving the Ardennes and making it to Hageanau, (y/n) gets sick, leaving Ron to take care of her.

Warnings: none except for extreme fluff

(y/h/c) - your hair color

As the officer's jeep rumbled into the town of Hageanau, France, they all sighed in relief that they were able to get away from the frozen hell that was the Ardennes Forest.

Stepping off the jeep first, Speirs looked around the town, noting the bombed-out buildings surrounding them. He was brought out of his thoughts by a small cough behind him. Turning around, he extended a hand to lieutenant (y/n) (y/l/n), helping her off the jeep. Speirs frowned as he noticed how she swayed slightly on her feet. He gently grasped her elbow, leading her to a secluded spot.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, rubbing her arm.

She sniffed and let out a wet cough before rubbing her bright red nose. "Pretty terrible, Ron."

"Your cough sounds like it's getting worse."

"I'll be okay. I just need to go check on my platoon. They need t-"

"I can do that. Go lay down."

"Ron-"

"That's an order, lieutenant."

She narrows her eyes at him. "Fine, Captain."

He sighed and looked around, making sure they were alone, before leaning down and kissing her cheek. "Go rest."

"Yes, sir," she grumbled, walking toward the new CP as Ron watched her go with a grin.

If looks could kill, (y/n) was sure she'd be dead by now. When Ron walked into the CP later that day and saw her and Lip sitting on the couch, trying to work on paperwork, he shot them an incredulous glare.

"Captain Speirs, sir. This is Lieutenant Jone-." Lip weakly started, only to be interrupted by Ron looking straight at (y/n).

"For Pete's sake, will you two please go back and sack out? There's some beds back there with fresh sheets."

Watching (y/n) closely, he could tell she'd gotten worse since that morning. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and her cheeks were flushed more than usual. What worried him most was how she was shivering under the thin blanket she was bundled up in and how her eyes were half closed and swimming with dizziness.

"Hey Ron, it's good to see you too," she whispers nasally.

Glancing over at her with a smirk, Lip spoke. "We will, sir. Just trying to make ourselves useful, sir."

Ron put down his things and made his way over to the (y/h/c), gently pressing his palm to her forehead.

"You're burning up."

She tried to take a deep breath, but it got caught in her chest, sending her into a wet coughing fit that had everyone in the room frowning. Speirs rubbed her back soothingly as she tried to clear her lungs.

Once she could breathe evenly again, he handed her his open canteen and she graciously took a swig of it to somewhat soothe her burning throat. With a small thanks, she gave it back to him. Ron's heart broke at the sight of (y/n) so sick. She was always the one taking care of everyone else, so he knew he'd have to make sure she took care of herself, too.

As he tucked a stray hair behind her ear, Winters calling him stole his attention from her.

"Regiment wants a patrol for prisoners." He announced.

(Y/n)'s head drooped in sorrow, knowing it was an unnecessary chance to lose more men. Hadn't they already lost enough?

As the conversation went on about the patrol, (y/n)'s thoughts became cloudier and cloudier until she couldn't really keep up with what was going on, only feeling the pounding in her head. She stayed in a feverish daze for a while, unable to fully focus.

A few hours went by as (y/n) stayed on the couch, unable to do anything under the haze of sickness that had fallen upon her. A little bit later, Speirs' face appeared in front of her again.

"Hey, sweetheart," he whispered. "You don't look too good. Please go back there with Lipton."

Looking to her right, she was surprised to find herself alone on the couch. How long had Lip been gone?

He felt her forehead again, grimacing at the hot sensation. "Your fever hasn't gone down."

"Yeah, I can tell. I feel like I'm back in Bastogne and Georgia at the same time." She took a breath, suppressing a cough before continuing. "One second I'm freezing and then I'm sweating like I'm running Currahee."

Looking into her (y/e/c) eyes, he could see the unfocused glaze that had taken over them.

"I'm sorry, (y/n/n), but please go to bed. For me."

Even in her feverish state, she could see the seriousness written on his face.

Sighing softly, she started to get up off the couch but instantly fell back down onto it, pressing a hand to her head.

"Hey, hey, hey. Are yo-"

"Sorry," she interrupted. "I'm...I'm really dizzy."

After another failed attempt at leaving the couch, she felt tears brim her waterline. She already felt terrible, and now she couldn't even get up by herself.

"It's okay. I'll pick you up," he whispered, moving to do so.

She quickly pushed his hands away, frantically looking around the room.

"Someone could see us!" She exclaimed wearily.

"And what?" he questioned. "What could they say? They saw me carrying a very sick officer of my company when they couldn't even stand?"

"Ron-"

"I'm picking you up now," he announced, quickly scooping her in his arms and making his way towards the back bedrooms.

"Don't you dare drop me, Speirs," she mumbled into his chest.

Looking down at her drowsy face, he smiled softly. "Don't worry. I've got ya, I've got ya."

Arriving at the room, he gently sat her on the side of the bed.

She sat there silently as Ron knelt in front of her, unlacing her boots and laying them beside the bed. Standing up, he slowly began removing her webbing, leaving her in her dirty ODs.

She peered up at him with teary eyes. "Thank you. For everything. I don't deserve you."

Ron shook his head, helping her to lay back against the pillows. "It's the other way around, (y/l/n)."

When she didn't come back with a snarky comeback, he realized how much she needed to sleep. With a lingering kiss on her forehead, he brought up the covers and tucked her in, laying an extra blanket over her shivering frame.

"I love you, now get some rest." He whispered, pushing the sweaty hair from her forehead.

As he started to walk away, a small gravelly voice came from the mountain of blankets.

"Can you stay, p-please?"

Looking back at her shaking figure, his heart melted. With a soft sigh, he nodded. "Just until you fall asleep, (y/n/n). I've got to plan for the patrol."

A lazy smile grew on her face as she pulled the covers back for him. Sliding in beside her, Speirs' eyes softened at how she formed her body to his, laying her head on his chest.

Within minutes, the steady rising of her chest told him she was asleep. He began to run his fingers through her hair, and before he knew it, he had dozed off, too.

"Speirs?" Winters called as he walked into the CP. "Ron?"

Looking around at the empty building, Dick had no idea where else he could be. Before he could come up with his next thought, Nixon walked in holding a bottle of VAT-69.

"Hey, Dick."

"Have you seen Speirs?" He asked, ignoring the alcohol.

Lewis' lips quirked up in a smirk. "Yeah," he chuckled. "Follow me."

Dick raised an eyebrow, following Nix further into the house. They came to a hallway and slowed at a door. Lew brought a finger to his lips as he opened the door.

Sure enough, there was Speirs, fast asleep with a very sick-looking (y/n) in his arms. Noting the surprised look on his friend's face, Nix closed the door quietly.

"Harry owes me 50 bucks," he chimed, walking back toward the main room.

"Wait, you bet on them?" Winters questioned.

"Are you surprised?"

"No," he laughed. "Not surprised at all."

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x y/n #ron speirs fluff #ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs angst #ron speirs x reader #ron speirs #ronald speirs #ron speirs imagine #ron speirs x y/n #sickfic #ron speirs x sick!reader #band of brothers fandom #mads' fandoms

[brassknucklespeirs]

Yᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ Mʏ Bᴇsᴛ Fʀɪᴇɴᴅ [Rᴏɴᴀʟᴅ Sᴘᴇɪʀs x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

Genre: FLUFF with a side of angst (or should I say Speirs trying not to pout cause he didn’t get his way)

Warning: Mention of warfare, death, weapons, burn scars/wounds, language

Prompt: Request by @holdingforgeneralhugs​ “how about a Soft!Speirs oneshot because I am majorly in my Speirs feels rn and I will consume literally any soft Speirs content by the BUCKETFUL! “

A/N: *spoken in spongebob narrator’s voice* aaah the sickly sweet nature of "we’re more than friends and we both know it”

 If the woman who sat patiently in the back of the beaten Jeep was nervous, she didn’t show it at all, a calm look was a normal expression upon her face as many had come to know. Her body was free of tension, and she could even say the chill travelling down her spine as the wind whipped over the exposed skin of her neck was a welcomed feeling compared to the intense heat of the Pacific. However, it would take a lot more than just the gentle expression on her face and the little tension in her body for people to not see that this woman was tired.

I guess you could say that was part of the reason she was here, in the whiteout forest surrounding Foy, Bastogne. With a year or so of combat experience already dealt with, her soldiers had placed their lives gratefully in the hands of the well put together woman for more reasons than just her cool composure, and it had been noticed. She had worked tirelessly to ensure the safety of those in her platoon and even those who were not. She wasn’t your natural born combat leader but she had the tools to learn; and learn she did. With a metaphorical hammer and nails, she built and upgraded herself so she could take the weight of everything she’d had to see and do in recent years. This being said, she didn’t force herself to reshape every aspect, no, she ensured that every chink in her armour was carefully polished but never fully made new. She held that emotion that came with the trauma she’s been through and wore it like a medal. Her best friend Ron had always told her how admirable she was for that trait, praised her for being such a strong person in rough times. And even then, he had still promised to be there whenever she couldn’t be that person. A thought that Y/N had sometimes wished he could follow through with even though he was likely somewhere in the middle of god-knows-where, fighting for his life while she was, well, here.

When the 501st Airborne Regiment’s top dog, Colonel Sink, heard of the admirable paratrooper known as Lieutenant Y/N L/N, he had jumped at the chance to rip her away from being caught once again in the hot talons of the Pacific that she had just been pulled from. A transfer had been accepted by both her and her previous superiors as Sink called for the help of a capable platoon leader now that he had lost Buck Compton, and don’t even get him started on the ex-CO known as Dike. The Colonel himself was sat beside the woman informing her of the men she would be taking over for and though he would never say it out loud, the man had his fingers crossed in a silent plea that this officer beside him was the right choice for Easy Company moving forward. The man talked with a gentle kind of assertiveness, kind yet firm with his words while he explained several things such as the Battle of Foy that had taken place the day before, and the new company CO. He was impressed with the way the woman was able to point out the strengths and weaknesses of an assault she wasn’t familiar with nor witnessed, his mind being left just slightly more at ease with his choice.

The two pulled up into the main street of Foy as their conversation continued, and they were meet by the darkened red hair of the battalion’s XO. The man stood with the same tired but calm expression as Y/N as they both drew smiles to their lips to exchange to one another.

“Captain Winters, I’d like to introduce you to Easy Company’s new platoon leader, Lieutenant L/N. I expect a warm welcome to be given to the Lieutenant, Y/N’s come a long way for us.” The colonel had said and followed it up quickly with a sharp pat on the woman’s shoulder. “Lieutenant L/N, I’m excited to see how you do with Easy Company.” He exchanged a few more words between the two before jumping back into the jeep and taking off with a yelp of ‘Curahee’ to those men of Easy who had lingered carefully to see the newcomer. Y/N watched as he went with a small smile before turning back to the red headed Captain who was stood with the same curled lips. A gust of wind blew along her spine as they stared at each other for a split second, a shiver rippling down her body aggressively.

“Well, sir, I don’t know if the welcome will be able to get much warmer than this.” The man huffed out a laugh at this as another officer with dark hair came into view behind him with a snort, clapping the other man on the back.

“I like this one Dick. Can we keep her?”

***

If there was one thing Y/N knew already about the Intelligence Officer known as Captain Nixon, is that he could talk. Not that she was complaining, the constant chatter being thrown from his mouth was entertaining, an amused smirk finding its way to her lips almost as soon as he’d begun to talk. The random banter he sprouted had reminded her again of her best friend, someone she thought of constantly, it would seem. It wasn’t the way he was talking in great amounts because god knows that Ron was a more of a listener than a talker but it was in the way his eye crinkled at the edge when he laughed at his own jokes. She’d hate to admit the way she’d compare everyone and everything to the man she was desperately in love with but she knew that she did it just often enough to stop the dull ache in her chest from turning into a stabbing pain.

“-and let’s just say, that didn’t go down very well with the wife.”

“I can’t imagine why, Captain Nixon, you seem like such a mellow man.” She’d said with a quiet chuckle and a roll of her eyes as they continued their walk to the building that second platoon was bunking in.

“Ah, what can I say? I’m as close to perfect as they come.”

“Oh I’m sure you are Sir.”

“Eh, you may say that with judgement now but just you wait and see.” He threatened while pulling a flask from his pocket before offering her a sip. She glanced at it with a raised brow and then proceeded to shrug her shoulders as she reached for it. A harsh cough of disgust almost echoed around the town as the woman screwed up her face.

“There’s no way you can convince me you’re close to perfect when you drink shit like this Sir.” She managed to say. Nixon laughed while taking his own sip.

“We’re gonna get along just fine, I’m sure. Now let’s go find one newly appointed CO, Captain Speirs for introductions.” The man had barely finished talking before Y/N’s head had flicked to him so quickly one could question if she would have whiplash.

“Captain Speirs? Ronald Speirs?” She questioned with an urgency that almost worried Nixon.

“Uh, yeah?” He replied carefully. Before either got a chance to ask more questions, a voice had called for the Captain behind them, one familiar to the both of them. A shiver ran down Y/N’s spine though she’d never admit whether it was the cold or whether it accompanied the violent beating of her heart. As she thought of how much she missed that voice, she’d turned slowly and faced the man that it belonged to.

There he was, walking towards them from a distance, his face almost the same as she’d last seen it aside from the matching dark shadows under his eyes and the odd spot of mud on his skin. Though his eyes had only been on Nixon as he wandered over, he moved his gaze to Y/N as she whispered his name, almost like he’d heard her across the distance between them. He’d faltered for a second, his eyes blinking as if trying to rid the dream from his foggy mind only to realise what he was seeing.

“Ronald-fucking-SPEIRS!” The woman had all but yelled, her feet carrying her as quickly as they could over to him. His breath had lodged itself in his throat before he too begun to move quicker towards her. It would have been quite the sight to see and it certainly was in Nixon’s eyes as he watched the two race towards each other and collide almost violently. Even with the clashing of bodies, the two were like magnets and didn’t seek to become unstuck from each other any time soon. As soon as their bodies connected, Ron’s hands had moved to cradle her neck and waist while Y/N wrapped tightly around his shoulders. They clutched at each other as if their lives depended on it and each drop of emotion and every ounce of missing one another had combusted as they stood there. Ron let out a quiet huff of a disbelieving laugh into her hair while stoking his thumb across the back of her neck.

“Are you a dream? Or did I get shot or something?” He questioned so quietly it almost didn’t reach her ear directly beside his mouth. She hummed to him in response before muttering to him a continued stream of ‘I’m here’s. Ron pulled back from her slowly, his hands moving to cup her face while staring at her in awe.

“You’re here.” He whispered back. He almost let out a sigh of contempt before he tuned in to the distant noise of gunfire and felt himself snap back into reality. His hands on Y/N’s jaw became more tense as he stared at her with a different expression. “You’re here.” He repeated while she furrowed her eyebrows, taking a small step back. His hands dropped to his sides as Nixon finally moved over to the two, a look of pure confusion mixed with shock covering his features.

“I feel like you two know each other.”

“Wow Sir, I’m not surprised you’re the intelligence officer.” She replied to the man causing him to smirk. Ron looked at Nixon as he grabbed Y/N’s arm gently.

“What the hell is she doing here?” He questioned almost furiously. Nixon just shrugged before taking another swig of his drink.

“Say hello to your new second platoon leader, Lieutenant L/N.”

“Lieutenant?!”

***

Ron doesn’t speak at first as the two wander over to second platoon, losing Nixon along the way to a task he needed to do. He was mad, she could tell, and as she asked what was wrong, he sent her a glare over his shoulder. She knew what he was doing of course, she hasn’t been his best friend for many years and not pick up on these things. He was processing, he just needed a bit of time of switching to default ‘tough Ron’ to hide the fact that what he was actually doing was wandering a long pathway through his thoughts and emotions. He wouldn’t be mad forever, he was just worried. She guessed the last time he saw her she was home safe and promising to write to him and then she was practically a ghost in the wind with not a single letter finding it’s way to him until suddenly she shows up right in front of him and worse yet as a US Army Trooper Officer. One could see why the man was a little grumpy.

“I missed you.” She heard him say to her and when she glanced at him again, his jaw was tensing under his skin. The words contradicted everything you could see from his body language but she smiled anyway.

“And I missed you. Guess two years can do that to a person.”

“You know what I just can’t figure out though?” He asked as he stopped before a building, clearly the one they were going to be entering. She shrugged at him as she too stopped. “What I can’t figure out is how the hell you got here.”

“Well you see I was in this darn awful place called the Pacific, god it was hot there. Anyway, then I got this call to get on this boat back to this other place where I then got on this plane to another other place and-“

“Spare me the jokes Y/N. I meant how did you even get into the Arm-“ He paused suddenly, looking at all the details of her face as he gulped. “Did you say Pacific? You came from the Pacific?” He asked in a low voice. Y/N just nodded softly, her expression the same but her eyes holding so many thoughts unsaid. He saw it in her mannerisms then, all the little things he’d always noticed she did when upset. He’d noticed the dark shadows under her eyes. Hell, he’d noticed the faint red burn scar that climbed up the side of her neck, angry and raw. He took a careful step forward before grasping one of her hands in one of his, his thumb moving to draw little lines across her skin. “I’m sorry Y/N. We’ll talk about this later. I think right now we should just introduce you to the men, get you settled in and everything.”

“Yeah, we’ll talk about it later.” She replied almost making a promise that they would indeed need to talk about it later. A smile rose to Ron’s face as he nodded in confirmation before pushing her helmet back pressing a gentle kiss to her hairline and moving it back.

***

The men had been a little thrown off by the presence of the new officer and didn’t seem to want to warm up to the idea of her at all. That was until she made a snarky comment directed at Speirs regarding her not needing him to defend her and with no reaction from him but a nod of confirmation they’d decided she must have been some kind of angel or a god with the power to make the great Captain Speirs bow in submission. Y/N had decided to milk that theory a little when it came to her new reputation of being the ‘tamer of legends’. She’d gotten quite the kick out of it and decided to tease Ron as much as possible since then.

As promised, they talked about it later. They talked about the Pacific and Europe, jump wings and basic training, the year he’d left and the year she’d arrived, all blurring into one long conversation had in the early hours of the morning. Ron held Y/N as she cried as she’d been dreaming of him doing since he left while she ran her fingers through his hair as he lay his head in her lap. And just like that, they had fallen in love with each other all over again. Just two lost souls who had found their way back to each other as they always did and they always would. Their hands moulded perfectly together as they lay beside each other in bed, their noses almost touching as they listened to one another pour their hearts out like they never did with anyone but each other.

“I just ran. It wasn’t really like we had any other option so I just didn’t think twice.”

“I know you like to play this tough guy act but sometimes I think you play it a little to well.” She replied with a giggle. He smiled down at her gently, nudging his nose ever so slightly into hers as she teased him.

“I play the tough guy because the tough guy always gets the prettiest girl.”

“Well then you’ve been watching too many movie films.” She teased as his fingers began to trail her jaw gently. They both sat quietly as they admired each other, his touch sending shivers down her spine until they stop on the side of her neck. He seemed hesitant to ask about the burns that lay directly beside where his fingers touched her skin, she had read it on his face.

“The Japanese are ruthless and the Pacific is even more so.” She said in a low voice, sitting up as her hands moving to unbutton the top layers of her clothes until she got to the last shirt. He watched her closely as she removed each piece, waiting for her to tell him more. “It’s hard to explain, and even if I could I don’t know if I’d want to.” She continued, pulling off the last shirt she wore and exposing her upper body to the cold air. He saw it now in full as it trailed down her neck and over her shoulder, as well as some of the left side of her back and chest. She would usually feel uncomfortable or embarrassed but with Ron she felt safe, she felt seen. “It was an explosion, a mine, grenade, bazooka, I don’t know. Set fire to the trees around us, and then some of me with it.” He sat up slowly, his gaze moving to every part of her that he could take in, the raw blazing scar as well as the soft skin that he reminisced touching gently in many early hours of the morning. She sat patiently, letting him take in her entire being, letting him visualise her once again to capture in memory. His dark eyes moved back to hers slowly, his hands reaching out to pull her closer to him by the waist.

“You’re as beautiful as you were the day I had to leave you.” He’d whispered to her, caressing her cheek carefully as she smiled at him, tears swimming in her eyes. And as he leaned in to plant his lips on hers, he let a smile take over his features while he held the love he had missed so much in his arms once again. Their lips melted together as they had so many times before, yet this time it held an urgency, a desperate need to make up for lost time. They held each other close like they had in the streets earlier, his hands holding her neck and jaw gently while she wrapped her arms tightly round his neck. “You’re my best friend.” He said suddenly. Y/N let out a quiet chuckle as they pulled back fully, causing Ron to look at her and smile.

“What?” He questioned.

“It’s funny, isn’t it. That we both knew, but never said anything.”

 “Never felt like it needed saying.” He said finally, his eyes never leaving hers as he brushed a hair away from covering them. “Would you like me to say it now?” She looked down almost sheepishly, as if she suddenly felt shy under his gaze while he spoke to her. He smiled once again before pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“I love you Y/N.”

“And I love you Ron.”

#i hope this is sweet enough cause i think i could serve it on pancakes instead of syrup and it would be so good #ronald speirs #band of brothers x reader #ron speirs #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #speirs #speirs x reader #protect them at all costs #soft!speirs

[bellewintersroe]

Ron Speirs x reader

Part 4!! Part 3 is linked here. This whole series is just smut central, so yeah you already know to expect 18+ content below the cut 😈

Jenny finds herself deeper into Ron Speirs than what she originally believed. After two weeks more had passed, they’re sneaking around has become more frequent. But things are starting to change, the dynamic isn’t what Jenny originally thought. This was meant to be angst but it turned into smut, sorry- the next chapter will be angst I PROMISE.

May 30th, 1945:

The days in Austria as an occupational force were spent drinking, doing the occasional patrol, and your CO’s finding you odd jobs to prevent you from turning into a nut case. It all sounds very uninteresting, unless you had a tall, broodingly handsome commanding officer as a distraction from it all.

In the weeks I’d known Ron they were filled with the most dirtiest sex I’d ever had. He was rough, he had stamina like no other and he actually knew how to satisfy a woman. Our hook ups were still kept on the down low, taking place almost anywhere and anytime apart from either of our bedrooms. The level of intimacy was yet to upgrade into there, for a reason I wasn’t too sure about.

Most of the time we’d do our business and move onto wherever else we needed to be. The conversations had been sparse, and after he’d leave I found myself longing for more from him. I knew it wasn’t a good sign, and I should’ve checked myself out of the situation, but he was Ron Speirs- I was so deeply attracted to him that even if I tried I couldn’t stop myself lingering towards him. His kisses were always so deep and passionate, and he’d never without fail make me cum before he did himself. The one time he’d finished before I did he’d apologised and then progressed to perform the best oral sex on me I’d ever experienced. God, the highs with Speirs was unbeatable, what I’d do to have ten more minutes with him right n-

“Battalion HQ won’t accept them cos they’re all scrunched up. God knows what you’re doing in your free time for them to look like this.” A hand splattered down a pile of half messed up papers, my eyes widened at the sight knowing exactly why they were that way. Nixon stood above me with a playful expression on his face, he looked borderline smug at his joke. “Not what you’re thinkin’, Nix.” My eyes narrowed, pulling the papers back towards me. They were the reports from all the men’s physical examinations, the time when Ron screwed me on my desk. On the papers…

“They want you to write them out again, sorry I know, massively annoying, but you know how much of a buzzkill they all are up there.” A smile grew to my face at Lew’s general distaste for many things in life. Many could view him as a pessimist, but he just had a super good sense of humour. Well, most of the time. “It’s fine, Lew. I’ll get them done in the next hour.” My hands reached out to grab the messed up papers. They weren’t that bad, HQ just had to be annoying, didn’t they? Whilst many of the other nurses were out enjoying the beginning of an Austrian summer, Mary and I were cooped up inside, finishing papers, studying or, examining men. It was my job, I wasn’t complaining but I just suffered a mass case of FOMO.

The door swung open again, Captain Speirs, as expected, 1600 hours, sharp. My gaze averted from Lewis to my CO, lips tugging in the corners. “Afternoon, sir.” I greeted once Mary and Lewis had said their greetings. “Afternoon.” He nodded in my direction, eyes dropping down to the papers in front of me. With one quick glimpse he shot me a funny look before turning back to Nixon, with news about war in the Pacific. I wondered if he recognised the papers? Or if he’d even noticed at the time what we’d done, probably not/m- but Ron always recognised detail, that’s something I’d grown to learn about him. The memory of these papers was still raw on my mind, I hoped the same for him. After another 45 minutes or so, Lewis had left and there was just the three of us filling in our work in silence. I was growing increasingly frustrated, not because of the papers, but how much I couldn’t stop thinking about Speirs moving across his desk and over to mine and messing them up all over again. If we were sat next to one another I could’ve easily slipped my hand under the table and teased him through his uniform trousers. My legs were tensing and I found myself crossing them to rid some of the tension I needed. It only provided me with the smallest amount of friction, but at least it was something. Sighing, I continued writing out the last of my papers, seeing there was about four more to go. “I’ve finished, thank god!” Mary then cried out causing me to jump slightly as I looked back over to her in jealousy. “You better be done soon.” She pointed to me. “Thank you, sir.” With a firm salute, she exited the room all together, the door gently closing behind her. I watched as she made her way down the hallway and vanished, before reappearing walking past the slit in half open curtain, all giddy and happy to be done. With just the two of us there grew a new found tension. It’s as though we expected this to happen, being alone was rare, so I’d take anything I could get. My desk was open at the bottom, facing across from where Ron was. My eyes lingered over the focused man once before dropping my legs slightly forwards, nudging my feet together and dragging one foot over the other. My movements caused his writing to still as he glanced up, to which I looked away teasingly. I hadn’t done any paper work for the past 5 minutes, I was in my own world, when Ron finally said something. “Aren’t you supposed to be writing?” Aren't you supposed to be fucking me already.

“Mmmmh, yes sir but I can’t focus.” I stared directly at the ink I dripped back into the pot. “Well, you don’t look like you have much more to go. Keep writing.” He instructed as I pursed my lips, biting the inside of my cheek as I reluctantly went back to doing my work. I could feel his eyes on me, burning holes into my legs, my bare legs. I wasn’t wearing any stocking or tights, I opted out seeing as it was hot today. Maybe he was wondering what else I wasn’t wearing? Sighing again, I began scribbling down the numbers, copying them from the other sheets without fault. There was a movement across from me, Speirs had stood up now, lowering the blinds from behind him to close fully, before making his way over to the door and pulling the blind shut on there. I remained unfocused on my work, watching him when his back was turned to me, when he did make his way over I squeezed my legs together once again and dropped my head back down to conceal my smile. “Keep writing- there was a glare, that’s all.” He’d closed the blinds behind me, slowly. Painfully slowly. It’s like he was watching over what I was doing, and when he stalked up behind me I felt his hand slip onto the back of my chair. “You’ve got through that quick enough.” He pointed out as I dropped my pen. “I’m on my last two.” Gazing up to him, I could tell there was an ulterior motive behind his eyes. ‘There was a glare’, okay Ron. “Good, keep going with them.” He instructed as I awkwardly moved back up to reach for my pen. As I did, I felt his hand smooth over the inner of my shoulder, thumb brushing over my bare skin as my eyes closed and I inhaled, taking in the relief of his touch. I had my white nursing dress on, better fit for this weather than the wool of my blue uniform or the khaki ones. It was thin, floaty, I much preferred it, but it meant now Ron’s touch was something I was even more sensitive to.

As his hands glided back and fourth over my shoulders, he began to slip them down to undo the top buttons on my dress. My focus was out of the window now. “Why did you stop?” Ron’s movements fell flat, waiting for me to resume my work. Oh, so he wants to play that game. Slowly, I picked my pen back up again, dipping it in the ink and cautiously writing out the numbers and names. Shit- I couldn’t write when his hands were now unbuttoning more of my dress. One of his hands snuck down the shirt part of my dress, groping at my tits, squeezing and rolling his thumb over the softness of the exposed skin. My jaw clenched, hesitating to write the next number as he nudged the fabric of my lace bralet out of the way.

Now, he took his fingers, brushing it over the sensitivity of my nipple. This really got me aching for him, shivers ran down my spine as I exhaled out, my legs pushing together as I circled my hips by habit. Ron’s fingers nipped ever so gently over my nipple, before moving onto the next one. Oh god. In order to impress him in this game he had going on, I continued writing as hard as it was. The way his fingers were pinching and stroking over my nipples, grabbing handfuls like he couldn’t get enough, it drove me crazy- he drove me crazy. “Can you be good and finish these papers for me?” Leaning closer, he crouched down to my level, lips dangerously close to my ear. “Yeah.” I sighed out. “No. Yes who?” His words made me want to moan out loud there and then. “Yes, Captain Speirs.” He pressed a kiss as a rewards to my cheek, the writing becoming impossibly difficult when he started kissing at my neck. His fingers moved up to my mouth, indicating he wanted me to wet them as I sucked obediently, humming out a pathetic whine. “Take your panties off.” He muttered, again, I did as I was told and stripped them down, handing them over as he shoved them in his pocket. Oh my fucking god. His fingers were back in my mouth as I sucked obediently, other hand still groping my breast. “When you finish this I’ll give you what you need.” He muttered into my ear, holding my jaw firmly now. “Mmmh, sir-“ I attempted to protest but he left me cold, marching back over to his table. Fuck, what was he doing to me. After the next few minutes had passed, I found myself grinding into my chair, looking him with pitiful eyes as I poured out a moan. When I’d scribbled the rest of the numbers down and added it to the complete pile, I was half expecting him to come storming over. But he didn’t. Sighing, I took my hand down and began hitching up my dress. Speirs too had stopped writing as he watched me with a mesmerised look. The second my fingers touched my dripping core I let out a soft breath in relief. Slowly, I played with myself in front of him. I watched as one of his hands disappeared under the table, only turning me on further. Fuck he was touching himself- and I needed to see. Spreading my legs wider, I slipped in one finger with a moan, my head falling back. The scraping of his chair didn’t stop me, in fact it only made me want to carry on. Retrieving me, he literally picked me up and set me back down on his lap, behind his desk, ass on his bulging crotch as he propped up my legs, forcing my shoes off as I spread them, feet on either of his knees. “Show me what you were doing.” He instructed, one hand planted firmly over my tit, the other hooked around my waist as his chin rested on my shoulder. I let out a shy giggle as he kissed me jaw tenderly. “Show me, Jenny.” Oh fuck. The first time he’d used my name, and it sounded so good coming from his lips. His larger hand smoothed over mine, brushing it down my body and guiding me to touch myself once again. Slowly, my movements returned, aided with his hand as he watched. My hips ground back against his, ass digging further into his cock. “Grind like that back into me. Good girl.” He hummed as I let out a gentle moan, head dropping back against his as he nuzzled his face against me closer.

His hand continued pushing mine to rub over myself, before leaving me to my own work and instead gripping my hip and guiding me into him. As my pleasure increased, I could feel Ron pushing himself up into me, borderline dry humping me as I panted out, keeping my whines to a minimum seeing as we weren’t exactly in private.

“Sir, I’m gon-“

“Ron.” He corrected, strained as I felt a twinge in my heart. “What?” I whispered as he breathlessly shuddered out, “call me Ron.” The somewhat vulnerability of his tone made me cry out gently as the coil in my stomach became tighter and tighter. Just as I was about to release, Ron let out a shuddered groan, his body jittering as my eyes widened realising what had happened. Before I could process, I was tipping over the edge, gripping his hand tighter and tighter. a

“Ron.” I gasped out, voice strained until I felt my pleasure become overwhelming and I came crashing down into a leg shaking orgasm. I was a panting and jittering mess by the end of it. Fuck, it was good, he was so good, and I couldn’t quite believe it when I realised I’d made him finish inside of his pants.

I let out a hum, attempting to move but Ron tugged me back in, sighing against my shoulder as he nested his face close to mine. For a second I didn’t know how to act, he was physically cuddling me. My hand smoothed over his arm, relaxed and satisfied by the position. My feet had fallen from his his knees now, resting close together due to the sensitivity between my legs.

“Did you finish the papers?” Ron was the first to speak, thumb grazing over my hip as I hummed. “Yeah.” I whispered. “Sorry, I distracted you.” The softness of his words were making my stomach erupt with butterflies, my chest was on fire yet I felt so at ease in his arms. Panicking, I realised my feelings for Ron were a lot stronger than I initially realised. Fuckkkk.

“It’s okay… it was worth it.” I gently smiled hearing him let out a gentle laugh. Deciding to push myself off, his hand was cautious to gaze off me as he was looking at me with a funny kinda expression, hand covering the stain he’d made in his trousers.

“What?” I whispered, brows raising a little as I pulled my bra back over my tits and slowly redid the buttons on my top. “Nothin’.” Ron shook his head as I shot him another smile before turning back down to my dress. “Just your dress..” he muttered out, in a low muffled kinda tone as I smoothed my hands over it worriedly. “What’s wrong with it?”

“No, it looks good. That’s all.”

“Oh.” Oh. “Thanks.” I shyly smiled, brushing it back down to smooth out the creases. “Um… my underwear.” I awkwardly spoke. “Oh, right. Sorry.” He let out a small laugh, retrieving them from his pocket as I tugged them back on with a giggle.

“Oh, and Jen?” The nickname almost made me throw up from the mixture of emotions. “Yeah?” My voice was light and airy, shocked by his kind words.

“Im kinda gonna need your help with… this.”

“Oh, shit- I mean, sorry yeah.” My face was burning up knowing what he was talking about. The stain on his pants wasn’t easy concealable, I’d had to retrieve him a new pair of trousers from the room he bunked in. He got one of the nicest rooms, of course, but it was astonishing, fit for the needs of a king. I fell asleep that night with more than enough thoughts whirling around in my mind. The nickname he had for me, calling me by my name- asking me to call him his name. It all felt so very intimate and vulnerable. Whilst the sex remained outright dirty, there was a softer edge to Ronald Speirs that I thought I might be becoming to like a little too much…

#Band of brothers x reader #Band of brothers smut #Ron Speirs x reader #ron Speirs smut

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

Band of Brothers Masterlist

*note: based only on the show interpretations/actors not the real individuals*

Key: 🥰 = fluff

😢 = angst

Joe Liebgott x Reader

Chocolate Kisses 🥰

Cold As Ice 🥰

Time Enough 😢🥰

George Luz x Reader

A Quiet Life 🥰

Joe Toye x Reader

Diner Date 🥰

Patience 🥰

Ron Speirs x Reader

Maybe not so one-sided 😢🥰

And Just Like That 😢🥰

Bill Guarnere x Reader

Not About Deserve 😢🥰

No one I’d rather be with 🥰

Carwood Lipton x Reader

Early Mornings 🥰

The Long Road to You (George Luz x OC and Joe Toye x OC)

#band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #joe toye imagines #joe toye x reader #joe liebgott imagines #joe liebgott imagine #joe liebgott x reader #george luz imagines #george luz imagine #george luz x reader #bill guarnere imagines #bill guarnere imagine #bill guarnere x reader #ron speirs imagines #ron speirs imagine #ron speirs x reader #carwood lipton imagine #Carwood Lipton x reader

[hellitwasyoufirstsergeant]

hellitwasyoufirstsergeant’s writing masterlist

Eddie Munson:

“I’m So Lonely” - you finally confess to Eddie how lonely you’ve been feeling, angst to fluff

Safe in His Arms - you finally confront your feelings for your friend Eddie after yet another nightmare, smut

Happy Trail - coming soon

Steve Harrington:

Consonants and Kisses - Steve is pretty drunk, and also pretty enamoured with you, fluff

Donald Malarkey:

A Soldier’s Silent Battle - Malarkey and Schofield’s grief, angst

Ronald Speirs:

Horror Stories and Fairytales - Ron tells you a horror story, but does he have hidden motives?, fluff coming soon

1917:

You Don’t Remember the Somme - Schofield reflects on the first day of the battle, angst

A Soldier’s Silent Battle - Schofield and Malarkey’s grief, angst

#hellitwasyoufirstsergeant #angie writes #band of brothers #stranger things #band of brothers fic #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut