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chasingstardustandmoonbeams · 2 years

Text

And Just Like That

Repost from my old blog sohoneyspreadyourwings

Word Count: 6.3k

The pride I have in this work -unreal.

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In the dead of night when you were alone with your thoughts, you would often look back on how it started, truly. You supposed you could say it began with a look, but you’d be wrong. It began with a touch. A simple touch that meant everything and nothing all at once, a touch that would haunt your dreams and awaken your soul.

It had begun with a touch.

The gentle grazing of his skin on yours, leaving a trail of warmth that lingered long after his hand left yours.

It left you nearly breathless, the delicateness of it all. How strange it was that such rough and calloused hands could be capable of such a tender action, and yet, the touch, however short it was, was the softest contact you had ever felt.

The feeling stirred something in you, an emotion you weren’t quite ready to admit to yet.

When you met his gaze there was something there, a glint of something you hadn’t noticed before. Unspoken words filled the air around you both, but neither of you could muster the courage to let the words tumble out freely.

With a distant call of your name, the moment was broken. You blinked slowly, in a haze as your mind replayed what had just transpired, your skin still burning at the gentle contact that had been made.

It had begun with a touch.

How it would end, you weren’t sure of yet. But if the memory of the touch held true, you were sure you’d be swallowed whole by the fire that he had ignited within you.

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The first time you saw him your lungs burned.

It wasn’t from the curious way his eyes caught yours, but rather from the miles you had just run. Sweat had caused your hair to fray and your shirt to cling to you uncomfortably, but that was the least of your worries. What concerned you more was the need to desperately catch your breath as your lungs cried out for air.

A low curse escaped your lips before you could even think about stopping it. Your body hunching over slightly, you felt as if your muscles were on fire. You looked up to see an expression that could almost be read as humorous appear on his face, and if you didn’t feel like you were going to cough up a lung, you would have noted how handsome he looked. Instead, you let out another low curse as you tried to regain your composure.

Taking a few shallow breaths, you tried your best to calm down your heart rate, your eyes downcast as you took a shaky breath. You could feel his eyes still on yours, and when you looked up to meet his gaze, a small smile had begun to tug at the corner of his mouth.

Your eyebrows furrowed, you felt your jaw go slightly slack as you pondered the situation. You’d run into a few of the other men before, most just gawking at you, but him, this man, looked at you with such genuine curiosity, that you didn’t know what to make of it.

“Speirs! I need you to look over these reports!” A voice barked out.

The man, Speirs, gave you a curt nod before turning to his superior officer, his head turning slightly back as if he wanted to say something to you. Instead, he straightened up and turned his attention forward.

“Yes, Sir.” He said simply, his voice more rich and warm than you had expected.

You watched him leave, your lungs still burning as you tried to breathe evenly. Speirs, you thought. You were sure you’d heard that name before around the other nurses. Before you could have time to mull over the encounter in your mind, you heard your own name called.

Sighing, you gathered yourself, rolling your shoulders back as you steadied yourself. You began to make your way over to continue to help train the medics. You fought the urge to turn back yourself, but you pushed it down and made the long walk back to the nurse’s barracks.

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It hadn’t taken long for the rumors to reach your ears.

How Speirs had killed that man, or men depending on who you asked, without mercy or regard. You’d heard how cold he was, that he was solely a man with a mission - kill the enemy. The rest didn’t matter to him.

Your body ached as you gathered up the bloody rags, leftovers from the last shipment of men who had been brought to your aid station. It was grueling work, stitching up men the best you could only to have some of them die anyway.

You hated it.

“L/N?”

You looked up lazily, exhaustion a permanent state for you now. A nurse, Anna, looked at you pitifully.

“Take a break. We can handle it from here.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but she simply gave you a look that left little room for argument. Dumping the rags to the left of you, you let out a sigh, haphazardly cleaning your hands with a rag.

Making your way out of the station, you took a deep breath, filling your lungs with the cool night air.

You felt your thoughts beginning to spiral, your mind filling with things you’d rather not think about, not now, not ever.

“Nice night.”

You turned to see him, Speirs, casually lighting up a cigarette to your right. He glanced at you as he took his first drag. His voice, like warm tea and honey cut through the cold night air.

You let out a snort, an unladylike gesture that had Speirs smirking. Wordlessly, he lifted up his cigarette carton.

He was challenging you. That or he was wondering if you knew what they said about him.

“Don’t smoke?” He asked softly, a hint of something more underlying in his words.

“No,” you replied. Though you reached out for one anyways, Speirs giving you a curious gaze as he lit it up for you.

The smoke burned your lungs as you took a deep inhale, it wasn’t a sensation that you enjoyed, but you felt a need to smoke it anyways.

You felt his gaze linger on you before he turned his attention up to the sky. You both stood silently, the air around you buzzing, unspoken words loudly humming around you.

“You’re not afraid?”

You were sure you had misheard him, a trick your mind had played on you, but as you turned to look at him, his gaze fixed on the sea of stars above him, you knew you had heard correctly.

“Should I be?”

A smile tugged at his lips as he glanced your way for a brief moment before taking one last drag, tossing his cigarette bud to the ground and crushing it.

“No,” he said simply.

You licked your chapped lips, your eyes never leaving his figure. “Lieutenant Speirs,” you started only to be abruptly cut off with his heavy gaze.

“Ron,” he said.

Your heart began to thump fiercely against your rib cage, the cold night air sending a shiver down your spine.

His gaze was softer now as he looked at you, a hidden warmth that you hadn’t expected to be there. It left you feeling warm despite the cold air nipping at your skin.

“L/N! We need you in here!”

You tore your eyes away from him, the warmth now beginning to leave your bones. Your blood stained fingers twitched, aware once more that you were still loosely holding onto the cigarette.

Ron reached out to you, stopping just before his hand met yours, his eyes silently asking permission. With a nod from you, he reached out and took the cigarette from your hand.

“Don’t want to waste it,” he murmured, his warm brown eyes on you as he took a drag from your cigarette.

You swallowed thickly, acutely aware of how close you both were. You could see his jaw working, as if he was trying to cage in words he desperately wanted to get out.

Clearing his throat, his eyes left yours, his gaze now fixed past your shoulder.

“You should go, you’re one of the best nurses we have. If they’re calling you it’s because you’re probably the only one who can fix it.”

“L/N!” Anna shouted from inside.

“Lieutenant,” you said softly, seeing the hint of a smile reappear on his face.

“First Lieutenant,” he replied, a smile appeared on your face to mirror his.

A small laugh escaped your lips before you could stop it, a look of shock and reverie appearing on Ron’s face at the sound. Before either of you could comment on it, you heard your name called once again. With a smile and a nod, you reluctantly turned around, you could swear you could feel his gaze still on you.

Bursting through the aid station, you got to work fixing the man on the makeshift gurney. You tried to push all thoughts of Speirs, Ron, out of your head. How you felt when he looked at you with that piercing gaze that made your heart race, how you felt when you were with him, as if time itself stood still for you both, but most importantly, you tried to push down you longed to know him more, to reach out and -

You let out a shallow breath as you tried to focus on the man in front of you, and not outside.

Ron Speirs was not the cold man you had heard the rumors about.

No.

He was something else entirely.

Of what you weren’t sure, but you wanted more than anything to find out.

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The sun shone brightly overhead, the warmth prickling your skin in a way that felt deliciously familiar, a remnant of a memory- of another life.

The men were loud around you, a chorus of laughter filled the air as someone said something funny, no doubt Luz.

They had urged you earlier to join them, to take a break from everything and just be. You couldn’t find it in yourself to take them up on their offer no matter how much you would have liked to. Instead, you sat on your own near the corner of the town that had just been liberated.

You watched the men come and go, smiles etched big and wide across their faces. It filled your heart with a mixture of hope and dread. A strange feeling you had become accustomed to, but you pushed the dread aside and focused on the feeling of hope.

The ruins of buildings lay scattered around you, a stark contrast to the cheering of the men who walked through it. Life, you supposed, did go on. A small smile tugged at your lips at the thought.

A loud metal clang followed by a low curse met your ears. You looked towards the direction of the sound and found Speirs bending down to reach for a silver tray. He was doing his best to try to balance a decadent looking silver water pitcher as he bent down.

Biting your lip to contain your laughter at the befuddled looking Lieutenant, you quietly made your way over to him.

Your fingers lightly grazed his as you picked up the silver tray. The touch was so feather light you hadn’t paid much attention to it, you were completely unaware of the way he looked at you from the contact.

“Lose something, Lieutenant?” You asked, your voice light and filled with mirth. Your eyes were trained solely on the silver tray, taking in the fine craftsmanship. It was only when he let out a small thank you followed by a light laugh that your eyes quickly snapped to him.

The sound of his laugh was something you hadn’t expected. You supposed you looked something like a deer caught in headlights, but if you did, it had only made him laugh more. The sound of it rang out through the air leaving a warm lingering sensation in its wake. It felt almost as if it was the sun, prickling your skin from its warmth.

“What?” He asked softly, as his eyes met yours. His warm hazel eyes crinkling at the edges as he gazed down at you. “I can laugh,” he smirked at you, “I wasn’t created in a lab.”

“Oh, he can laugh and he’s funny,” you laughed.

Speirs tried to hide his smile by clearing his throat, a gesture that filled you with a feeling you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

“Is this for your girl back home then?” You asked, the smile growing smaller as your gaze fixed on the water pitcher in his hands. “It’s beautiful,” you added.

“It’s for my Ma actually, back in Boston.”

You tried to hide your surprise at his response, but it was clear by the growing smirk on his face that you had failed.

“Lieutenant Ron Speirs a devoted and loving son, can’t say I saw that one coming.” You smiled at him, seeing that same curious expression on his face, the one you saw nearly every time you saw each other.

“There’s a lot about me that I’d think you’d be surprised about,” was his only response. The soft look in his eyes was a hard contrast to the teasing smirk on his face.

Involuntarily you licked your lips, a gesture that had Speirs glance down at them before his eyes flicked back to your face.

Your heart began to race again, something that had seemed to become a habit for you every time you were near him.

“I’ll let you get to it then, Lieutenant,” you said a bit breathlessly.

Speirs visibly swallowed, giving you a curt nod before walking away.

It was only when you saw him walking off towards the makeshift post office that you noticed why he had looked at you the way he had, with a mixture of curiosity and something more. You’d said his name.

You’d called him Ron.

You’d broken down the careful wall that had been between you both, only to build it back up in a matter of moments by calling him, Lieutenant.

Ron, you thought.

It was natural for you to say, and yet, you couldn’t find it within yourself to say it out loud.

How strange, you thought, this unknown feeling growing within you.

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“So, is no one going to talk about it?”

You focused on your work, stitching up Guarnere who had accidentally cut himself with a knife.

“About what?” George asked, half interested in whatever Skip had to say.

“About how our dear and lovely Y/N here is always hanging around with Speirs.” Skip said, a clear dramatic tone to his voice.

“Excuse me?” You said, whipping your head around and poking Bill with your needle in the process.

“Hey! Watch it!” Bill cried out, gingerly rubbing his arm.

“Sorry, Bill,” you said quickly, before finishing off your work on his arm.

“I mean, he’s got a point,” George murmured, his eyes immediately turning downcast when you looked his way.

“It is pretty fucking weird,” Liebgott said offhandedly as he lit up a cigarette.

“I’ve spoken to the man twice, maybe three times. I speak to you all more than that. Sometimes even when I don’t want to,” they all scoffed at your joke, “I don’t get what the big deal is.” You patted Bill’s arm to signal you were done. From the corner of your eye, you could see him inspecting your work before nodding his head in appreciation.

“Doesn’t matter, he’s, well he’s Speirs,” stammered Malarkey, “You heard about what he did right? To those men?”

Putting your supplies away in your bag, you didn’t bother to look up. “I did, it was the talk at the aid station for the better half of a month.”

“Then you know-”

“I know what other people have to say about him. I know what other people have to say about each of you too, but that’s not going to stop me from forming my own opinions.”

“Y/N-”

“Don.” You said back to him.

“I’m just trying to look out for you, we all are.” He said softly, his eyes desperately trying to get you to understand.

You wanted to argue, to say you’d made it this far hadn’t you? You could take care of yourself. But you knew they were just as worn down as you, if not more so. So instead, you bit your tongue and gave him a small smile.

“I know,” you said quietly.

One by one the men patted you gently on the shoulder as they made their way to their designated fox holes.

“You like ‘im.”

You looked up to see Joe Liebgott blowing out a puff of smoke.

“What?” You asked incredulously.

“You like the guy. It’s pretty fucking obvious.”

“Why the hell would you say that?” You were beyond bewildered as you tried to comprehend what Joe was saying to you.

“Look, all I’m sayin’ is, you don’t go around defending a guy you only had ‘two to three conversations’ with.”

You gaped, “I wasn’t defending -”

“Sure you weren’t, Sweetheart,” Joe smirked at you, taking a big inhale from his cigarette.

You narrowed your eyes at him which only made him laugh.

“You’re gonna have to face the facts sooner or later. And you should know, the longer it takes, the more likely the fellas will start a pool.”

“Joe!”

“What? It’s a fair warning. Not like we got other shit to look forward too.”

You rolled your eyes, no longer in the mood to keep talking in circles with him. With one last smirk, Joe walked away to return to his own fox hole.

You were left alone, the ice-cold breeze causing you to shiver. You’d have to return to the aid station soon. Wiping your forehead with the back of your hand, you took a sharp inhale.

Their words swirled around in your head.

You had defended him. You’d felt this sudden rush to come to his defense, to defend his character. They didn’t know him. But neither did you, not really. A handful of conversations was not something that built any type of friendship.

Still, there was something about Ron Speirs that reached out to you in ways you hadn’t felt before.

Joe was wrong.

They were all wrong.

They had to be.

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You were supposed to be at the aid station.

You weren’t supposed to be crouching low into the ground avoiding a spray of bullets.

You wanted to squeeze your eyes closed and cry out, to run, to be safe at home away from all this. But you weren’t, you were where you shouldn’t be.

A voice cried out in the distance, a loud wailing sound that dropped your heart to the pit of your stomach. Without a thought, you sprinted towards the sound, not thinking about the voices crying out to you to stay where you were.

It had taken a moment, but you’d found him, a man, a kid that couldn’t be more than nineteen. He had a gaping hole at his side, he looked fearfully up at the sky above, his sobs breaking through all the noise.

Crouching down, you took his bloodied hand in yours.

“Hey, I’m here,” you whispered softly, trying to even out your voice.

His eyes turned to you, his body shaking until you gently gave him a shot of morphine.

“I don’t want to go,” he cried, his tears leaving clean streaks along his ashen face.

“Then stay,” you pleaded, “Stay with me.”

Frantically, you put pressure on the wound, using your hands and any rags you had available to you to try and stop the bleeding, but it was useless. You had long ago run out of sulfa powder, you knew there wasn’t much else you could do.

“Please,” he choked, “Please, don’t make me go,” he sobbed. His bloodied hands clutched onto you tightly, almost painfully. “Let me stay,” he cried out.

“Fight it,” you pleaded, “I need you to fight back, I know you can do this-”

The pressure from his hands left you, and you knew.

“No, come on!” You yelled.

It was useless, you knew it. He wasn’t the first you had lost, and you were sure he wouldn’t be the last.

“Y/N?”

You felt a pair of arms wrap around you, and you fought them back.

“No, I can still save him!”

“He’s gone.”

“No, I can-”

“Y/N.”

You were sobbing now, tears flowing freely down your face as your body went limp in his arms.

“Ron,” you whispered as he held you tightly, gently rocking you.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered into your hair, his body holding you close as you cried.

His hold never faltered. Both of you sitting on the cold snowy floor until your crying finally stopped. You were sure that they would send someone to look for you both soon.

“Did you know him?” He asked gently.

“No, I-” you paused, “I didn’t even know his name.”

“I’m sorry.”

You didn’t bother asking how he had found you. You didn’t care, not really. You were just glad he was there.

“Y/N?”

“I wasn’t supposed to be here,” you whispered, an ice-cold gust of wind washing over you both causing you to shiver.

Your words hung in the air. Ron didn’t say anything as you both sat quietly for a moment before he helped you up.

You were finally able to look at him, he looked exhausted, and you were sure you looked the same.

You both stood there silently watching the other, and for a moment, however fleeting, you could have sworn he was going to reach out and touch you.

“Ron,” you said so sweetly and softly, that his expression melted at the sound. “I-”

“Speirs!”

His expression became like cold steel once more, he took a step back.

“First Lieutenant,” his voice was even, almost unbearably so.

You swallowed thickly, your eyes beginning to water despite how much you willed them away.

“Lieutenant,” you replied, watching his own expression falter by a fraction.

With one last nod, Speirs walked away from you.

You didn’t have much time to dwell before you heard your own name being called.

“Hey, what happened?”

“Y/N?”

“Whose blood is that?”

You blinked quickly, trying to gather yourself. Liebgott cautiously reached out to take your hand, his eyes never leaving yours.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said calmly.

You almost laughed at the comment, almost.

“Come on, why don’t we get ya somethin’ warm to drink? How’s that sound?”

You silently nodded your head and followed him towards the rest of the company. You didn’t look back, you didn’t dare.

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You hadn’t seen him since that day.

You’d say you didn’t care, but you knew that’d be a lie. Something had changed, you weren’t quite sure what yet, but you knew whatever it meant, it meant something more than you could know. Not even the beauty of Austria could distract you from that.

Sitting in the makeshift aid station, you kept busy. Things had slowed down dramatically, and for the first time in a long time, the end of the war didn’t seem like a pipe dream, it was real. You’d heard about the rumors about the boys being sent into the Pacific, but you hoped that it wasn’t true. They’d seen enough bloodshed, they’d done enough already hadn��t they? What more did they have left to give?

“You ever heard that a watched pot never boils? ‘Cause a watched door isn’t going to make Captain’ Speirs show up.”

You rolled your eyes at Luz who was smirking so wide at you you thought for sure his face hurt.

“I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about,” you grumbled as you filled a few glass containers with some fresh gauze.

“Yeah, you do. Lieb, won’t shut up about it,” he teased, “Gossip Queen that he is.”

“George,” you said harshly.

He grinned at you, clearly amused with himself. He raised his hands in mock surrender, his tongue poking against his cheek as he tried not to laugh.

“If it means anything to you I think he feels the same,” he said seriously.

You looked up at him to see a sincere expression on his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, George, honestly. Captain Speirs and I are just -”

Your voice cut off as you glanced over George’s shoulder to see the man himself standing in the doorway talking to another nurse.

George let out a small laugh. “The lady doth protest too much,” he teased.

You gave him a murderous gaze which only caused him to laugh more. George took your death glare as his cue to leave as he walked towards the door. Speirs brushed past him as he made his way towards you.

“I win the pool if it happens in the next few days!” George shouted before he ran out the door.

“That mother-” You let out a sharp exhale of pain as you dropped the glass container you were holding.

Speirs quickened his pace towards you, reaching out to get a look at your bleeding hand.

“Are you-”

“I’m fine,” you said curtly.

What little pride you had was now wounded, whether you wanted to admit it or not. You bit your lip as you tried to tend to the small gash on your hand, but Speirs just brushed your hand away.

“Come here,” he said softly. He led you carefully away from the glass, grabbing nearby gauze as he did.

Sitting you down on a nearby gurney, he set to work tending to your wound.

You let out a breathy laugh before you could help it. “Thought this was my job,” you laughed, meeting his hazel gaze which had softened considerably.

Speirs just shook his head gently, a smile beginning to tug at his lips.

His touch was soft against your skin, softer than you thought he was capable of. It was almost tender. The complete opposite of the man Speirs portrayed himself to be.

Your gaze remained fixed on his hands delicately wrapping a bandage around your hand. Every time his fingers brushed against your skin, the tingling feeling lingered, the warm sensation left you nearly breathless.

You wondered, briefly, how his hands might feel elsewhere; Cradling your face or trailing along your skin.

Speirs, Ron, ignited something in you. He left you breathless and yearning for more. He was an enigma. He cared so little yet he cared so much.

And when he looked at you, oh, when he looked at you, you felt as if you were the only two people in the world. His gaze never faltered from yours, it lingered and left you thinking about him, how it felt to be with him.

You cleared your throat, you felt his eye’s flick to you briefly before looking back down at your hand.

“What brings you here?” You looked at him, but his eyes wouldn’t meet yours.

You felt hope swell within you, maybe, possibly, he came here for you.

His eyes met yours and there was conflict evident in his gaze. His jaw worked harshly as if he was trying to fight back what he wanted to say.

“Points,” he finally managed to say.

“What?” Your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

“How many points do you have?”

Oh, you thought.

“Not enough,” you retorted.

It was a lie. You both knew it was a lie, but he didn’t say anything. There was a question written across his face, but he didn’t ask it. His thumb gently stroked against your hand, a tender action that had your heart swelling.

“But they’re sending me back anyway.”

Ron’s movements stilled and your heart clenched.

“They, uh, well, they said they lost enough nurses over there, they don’t want to add to the list. They think the medics will be enough, which they won’t be but, what do I know?” You let out a small humorless laugh, trying your best not to cry.

“I don’t want to leave them,” you managed to choke out as you fought back tears. “I don’t want to leave yo-”

“Y/N,” he said your name in a way that would have buckled your knees if you weren’t already sitting.

“Ron-”

“L/N! I need your help over here!”

Ron pulled his hand away slowly, his touch lingering long after he pulled his hand away.

“You better go,” he weakly smiled at you.

“Ron -”

“I’ll see you,” he said before he quickly made his way out the door, not sparing a glance back.

You sat there dumbfounded for a moment before you got up to get to work.

It no longer seemed impossible now, what the others had talked to you about.

You had feelings for Ron Speirs and there was no way you could deny it any longer.

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You were leaving tomorrow.

You’d managed to convince your superior officers that you were needed longer, men were still getting injured. Chuck Grant had been a prime example of that. You hadn’t been there for it all, you’d been sent to check on a nearby town, but Eugene Roe had been kind enough to recount the awful story for you.

Chuck Grant would survive, and that’s all you could have asked for. Ron’s actions may have surprised the others, but they didn’t surprise you. He was hard to read, difficult to figure out, but when he revealed snippets of the person he was, the man he only showed a select few knew, you understood.

Sat upon the balcony, you took in the scenery. The mountains were lush and green, the water a vibrant blue. It was beautiful, it rivaled anything you had ever seen growing up. Taking a sip of the bottle of wine in your hand, you winced slightly at the taste. It burned going down, a bitter taste that settled on your tongue.

You were slightly numb, fearful for the fates of your men, scared for Ron.

Ron.

Scoffing at your own train of thought, you took another swig of the bitter wine.

“Quite a view isn’t it?”

You let out a breathy laugh, not bothering to look up at him. Instead, you kept your gaze fixed on the horizon as you took another sip of your drink.

“You’re leaving,” he said simply. His voice was so even and unperturbed that it made you angry.

He took a seat beside you, not saying a word. You could feel his eyes on you, searching for something that you were unaware of.

“I am,” you replied. You wished you could mask your voice as well as him, but the small break in your voice gave you away.

You licked your lips before finally turning your attention to him. You took in his state, his sorrowful eyes pierced yours as he reached out to hold your hand.

You stilled at the action, surprised that he had been the one to reach out to you. He smiled gently as he looked down between your hands.

“Do you know what you’re going to do?” He asked. His eyes still locked on your entwined hands.

“I don’t have much waiting for me back home.” Bravely, you took a shallow breath, “I think everything I want is here.”

Ron’s eyes met yours and for a moment, it felt as if time itself had stopped. It was just you and Ron, holding hands together at the edge of the world.

“You don’t mean that,” he said, his eyes locked on yours.

“But the thing is, Ron, I do.” You felt your eyes begin to water, your hand reaching out to cradle his cheek.

He watched you in bewilderment, as if such a tender action was unrecognizable to him.

“I’m staying,” he said. You gave him a watery smile, that seemed to break him.

“I know,” you said softly, “I know you’re staying.”

Ron swallowed thickly, his eyes watching your every movement.

With a swell of emotion, Ron brought his hands up to your face, gently cradling your head in his hands. You closed your eyes, relishing in the feeling of something you had long since imagined. His touch was gentle, but firm, holding the weight of all his feelings into his finger tips.

“Y/N,” he whispered your name before he gradually leaned down to kiss you.

The kiss was salty from your tears. His lips gently gliding against your own in a way that made your feel like a fire had started in your body. His hands trailed along your skin in such a delicate way that it made you feel like you were the only person in the whole word, the rest just floated away into nothing.

You let out a small gasp of breath as Ron pulled you closer, this only seemed to spur him on as he kissed you deeper, pouring out all of the words that he could not say, into the kiss.

When you finally pulled away, Ron’s hands worked their way back to your face, holding you tenderly and with as much reverie as if you were priceless. He was still close to you, almost unbearably so. His nose bumping against yours as he took a shaky breath.

“Ron,” you whispered breathlessly, “Do you think we could have been something?”

His thumb caressed your cheek, an action that had you close your eyes in anticipation of his answer.

“I think we could have,” he said resolutely, “Maybe we still can.”

Your eyes snapped open, your head pulling back to get a better look at his face.

“Do you mean-?”

“Would you wait for me? I know I don’t have the right to ask you, but -”

You cut him off with a fierce kiss, Ron let out a surprised gasp as you kissed him before he pulled you closer.

“I’ll wait,” you managed to say as you pulled away for air. “I’ll wait,” you repeated more for Ron than yourself.

Ron let out a warm laugh in disbelief, his head thrown back and his smile wider than you ever imagined it could be.

Reaching around you, Ron took your forgotten bottle of wine and took a drink. For once, Ron’s eyes didn’t look hard or guarded, they were hopeful.

You both stayed like that, sat on the balcony for hours, passing the bottle of wine between you both until it was gone. And even after that you stayed a few hours more. When the sun finally began to set, you both realized that they would send out a search party for you both if you didn’t return.

Reluctantly, you both said your goodbyes, Ron’s smile bright as he walked away.

“Well, fuck! You couldn’t wait one more Goddamn day?”

You turned around to see Luz, Liebgott, Perconte, Roe, Randleman, and a few others all crowded around in agitation.

“What are you talking about?” You asked incredulously.

“The pool, Sweetheart,” George grumbled. “We lost the damn pool.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” you yelled, “That was a real thing?”

“No, shit!” Liebgott shouted, “And now Doc Roe here takes the whole damn lot!”

“Eugene!” you yelled in astonishment.

Eugene just gave you a small bashful smile that made you feel less agitated. It was nearly impossible, you reasoned, for anyone to be made at Eugene Roe.

“Well,” you sighed, “It could have been worse. Lieb or George could have won it.”

The men in question quickly grumbled in protest as you made your way outside. You were going to miss this, miss them, but you hoped among all else, that they would make it through all this to see home again.

You licked your lips, your skin still burning from the memory of Ron. You made your way to where you were staying to go finish packing what little belongings you had.

Your mind was still replaying your time with Ron, how his lips felt against yours. Ron Speirs was still a wonder to you. But you hoped, oh how you hoped, you’d have all the time in the world to know him completely.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Months had gone by and you’d only received a handful of letters from him. A part of you was hurt by this, but the other part of you, the more rational side, realized that Ron Speirs was not a man of many words - let alone expressing himself- so you took the letters with stride.

You’d been busy cooking, your roommate Elena was off doing the grocery shopping. A knock on the door caused you to look up. She had a tendency to try and carry as many groceries as she could, so you briskly made your way to the door to help her out.

“Elena, I told you I’d help -”

Your voice cut off when you saw who was at the door. Ron stood awkwardly in front of you. He was wearing civilian clothes, his fingers restlessly folding the cuffs of his shirt.

He cleared his throat, his eyes meeting yours for the first time in a long while.

“Am I too late?” His voice was hoarse, his mind already set in disappointment.

Wordlessly, you made his way over to him and pulled him down by his shirt collar until his lips met yours. He let out a gasp, his breath fanning over your face as you tugged at his lip with your teeth. You pulled away, letting you both catch your breath.

Ron had that brilliant smile on his face, that smile that made you feel warm all over. You kissed the corner of his mouth, and then his cheeks, his nose, whatever part of his face that you could reach.

“You’re not too late,” you whispered softly against his skin.

Ron let out a happy hum, as you pulled him into the house.

And just like that, with the soft click of the door closing, you finally felt at peace. An emotion that you didn’t think you’d ever be able to feel again. But there, with Ron, you began to think that anything was possible. Even falling in love with Ron Speirs, the man feared by all, but loved by you. The man who loved you more than he was prepared to say. Anything was possible, but especially this.

#ron speirs imagines #ron speirs imagine #ron speirs x you #ron speirs x reader #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader

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brassknucklespeirs · 2 years

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Sʟᴇᴇᴘ Hᴀᴘᴘʏ [Rᴏɴᴀʟᴅ Sᴘᴇɪʀs x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

Genre: Flufffffff

Warning: Depiction of sleeping issues derived from PTSD, mention of clearly crappy mental health, mentions of warfare

Prompt: Request by @softguarnere “ If your requests are still open, I was wondering if I could request some sleepy speirs content? 💕 Thank you!!”

There had been three strikes before she was out. Three seperate instances that led to her demise. The first one, in her defence, was a complete and utter accident, an unforeseeable motion she couldn’t control. The second one, well, that one was not so much. And don’t even get me started on how purposeful the third one was. And the two things every strike had in common, one of which needs a ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ sign to be hung from it so she’d restrain herself?

Ronald-freaking-Speirs and sleeping.

The scene leading up to the first time was reasonably simple. She had been given all she could have dreamed for that night; a roof over her head and four solid walls keeping the frigid wind from tickling her flushed cheeks, a warm fire chasing the cold air away and a little bit of peace and quiet. Before then she’d even had a delicate chorus of a nuns’ choir lulling her muscles to rest a little. It was unfortunate, however, that the relaxation of the woman’s body did little to help the calming of her fast-paced mind from the storm that blew within. The constant need to glance over her shoulders or to jolt awake whenever she nodded off for a second was driving Y/N’s exhaustion to an all time high. She’d be lucky if she’d been getting a couple of hours sleep a day at that rate during and after the battle with the unforgiving terrain of the forests of Bastogne. So with the taking of Foy, the company had found themselves in a church in Rachamp, complete with hot food and a warm place to sleep for the night. With this in mind, Y/N had assumed she’d be given the chance to just that, sleep for the night. At first, this didn’t seem to be the case.

Most of the men had settled down for the night along the floor of the church with the bedding given to them by the nuns as well as their own slipped tightly around their bodies. The only ones that hadn’t had been the one’s who were tucked away at the CP, keeping an eye out for their pals while they slept somewhat soundly. Not Y/N either. Even given the chance to sleep for at least a planned six hours, Y/n’s mind had been running double time to stop that from happening. It was the slight pull in her chest mixed with the occasional prickling of her skin that she felt as she sat leaning against the back of the church pew she’d claimed as her own. The constant need to check her surroundings left her with tired eyes roving slowly around the room every 10 or so minutes as she chased the feeling of safety like a distant dream that was fading quickly into reality.

Previously frozen fingers gripped lightly at the fraying edges of the blanket that had been place gently over her shoulders by one of the nuns, her body soaking up the extra comfort of warmth, even if it didn’t completely stop the anxiety from resting in her veins. The snores and deep breathing of the men she called brothers also set a flame of comfort in her heart to warm her cold bones but even then, it wasn’t quite enough to let her settle.

Dim candlelight flicked within the church, setting a cast of light across her face as she turned her head slowly to the opening door. A chill licked up her spine as the wind managed a quick sprint to her before it had been promptly shut back out again. She became aware of a presence that had placed itself down beside her a little slower than she would have liked but she prided herself in identifying the man as soon as she’d clicked to his sudden appearance.

“I’m surprised you’re still awake Lieutenant L/N. But while I have you here, I’d like to go over a few thoughts with you.” He said in such a firm, authoritative voice that the tired woman could only react with a nod of confirmation as he pulled out several maps to talk over. She tried to pay attention as he pointed out specific plans and how they’d work well but her focus on the maps was slipping by the minute, which embarrassingly had not been the first time it had happened while receiving a talk from Ronald Speirs. Her eyes had trailed over the hand that stayed pointed at the map before following the sleeve of his shirt, over the curve of his shoulder to look at his face. While he talked, she’d watched the muscles contract under his jaw and traced the dark shadow of exhaustion that also lay under his eyes. With the low whisper of his voice, Y/N’s brain started to fog, her vision following not far behind. She could feel as her mind gave in to her body level of relaxation, though this time she did not jolt with the prickling of her skin or clench of her chest. The woman gave in to the safety blanket of comfort that the man beside her had brought with his presence slowly but surely as she was lulled to sleep by his trailing voice.

It took Captain Speirs a minute or two to realise the state of exhaustion his companion had let herself slip into, until he felt a sensation of pressure on his shoulder that caused him to look down at her. Y/N had managed to fall asleep under the comfort of the man that was her commanding officer as she curled into his side, with her head tucked gently onto his shoulder. And for reasons no one would know of or witness but him, he let her, even letting a small smile of amusement slip onto his lips as he moved himself to offer her a more comfortable position to sleep in. It wasn’t long before he too felt himself succumbing to sleep, his eyelids drooping down over his dark eyes several times until they closed completely while his head had unintentionally come to rest lightly upon hers. The two officers had welcomed the calming touch of another beside them as they slept, even if it had only been for four or so hours before they both awoke to prepare before their men rose.

As I said before; reasonably simple.

The second time had been only a distant dream in her mind, just a silly little idea that had fluttered its way into her wandering thoughts a little to many time since the incident in the church.

It was late when the two had stumbled up the stairs, the sun resting while the moon illuminated the snow covered streets, much like it had the night before. Y/N huffed a mock sigh of frustration as the grown man beside her had leant some of his unsteady weight on her, grabbing one of his arms to throw over her shoulder. Ron chuckled tiredly while applying a little more weight jokingly, causing her to stumble which had been followed quickly by a threatening glare.

“You’re being a pain in the ass, Sir. I’m just trying to help drag your sorry-ass to bed before you work yourself to death.”

“I didn’t ask for your help Lieutenant, you did that all by yourself. And how many times do I gotta tell you, it’s Ron to you.” The woman rolled her eyes as he spoke in his usual firm voice though she could see the glint of humour in his tired eyes. She admired the way they shone even in his state of exhaustion, a trait she hoped she could mirror though she wasn’t so sure that was indeed how she looked at all. She’d also envied the way his hair had fallen so perfectly over his forehead and she could imagine the amount of times he’d sat running his fingers through his hair in frustration after last night’s prisoner snatch patrol across the river. She had imagined that the appearance of a mirror would be cruel to her as she stood beside him with her helmet messy hair falling from its braids, and clouded eyes. What she imagined and what the tired man beside her thought were two very different things, however. He had not been able to stop glancing at her, his worn out state causing his focus to go at even the slightly distraction. But to him, she’d always been a distraction even when not tired; a big distraction. Through hazy, slightly squinted eyes, he took in the way she seemed to glow in the natural moonlight that shone through the windows, the way her hair, though messy, had framed her face just right to express the hard working and strong woman he’d felt himself pulled towards.

“If that’s so then it’s only right to say it’s Y/N to you.” She’d replied as they made their way into his room, her hands moving to give him a gentle shove to the bed. “Now you better go to sleep or so help me I’ll be talking to Winters about it and we both know you don’t want to upset our mother hen.” She’d teased before swiftly turning to leave the room. Ron watched her with those squinted eyes before calling out to her and raising his boot sloppily off the side of the bed.

“I’m asking for help now Y/N.” He’d mocked before giving his foot a shake, his head flopping back onto the bed tiredly. The woman huffed at the dark haired man before she stomped back over and begun to undo the man’s laces. She’d taken a minute to slip both boots off his feet, throwing the blanket over them as she finished. She pretended to tuck him in with amusement painted across her features.

“You’d better be happy with the service. I recon it’s 5 sta-“ Y/N stopped suddenly when she’d glanced up at the man’s resting face and noticed the gentle rise and fall of his chest. The great Ronald Speirs had fallen asleep with one of his platoon leaders pulling the boots off his feet. What would the men think about this? The thought wasn’t processed more than just the throw away comment made under her breath as she moved to sit herself on the bed so she could remove the tightened belt of webbing that held his canteens to his waist off. After placing it quietly on the ground as to not startle the man awake, she had glanced back at him again. She admired him as she had while helping him up the stairs, however, this time she was seeing an even softer version of him. The admirable man she’d led up the stairs seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, the strain being seen across his brow as it creased. The sleeping man before her was different, his shoulders relaxed and his face youthful as his eyelashes fluttered slightly with every breath he took.

She had felt it coming this time, much more than she had last time. One could say she had warning, and one could definitely say she completely ignored that. Her choice being that she would not make the trek to her own bedroom just downstairs and instead found herself slipping into sleep splayed out beside one Ronald Speirs. That one choice led to the best nights sleep that either of them had had in a long time, a idea which they had sheepishly shared to each other the next morning as she had woken up with his arm draped over her waist. Guess it was a day dream brought to life after all.

Now, the third time you ask? Oh god, the third time.

The war was almost at its end, they could both feel it even if they were still told to standby for the Pacific. But the war had been long and Y/N was tired.

The dynamic between Y/N and Ron had shifted slightly since that night in Hagenau, if the softened eyes and closer proximity had been enough to speak for themselves. It was clear to them that they’d both been trying to make it happen again, with the constant question of ‘when will you be finished’ was passed between them almost every day. It was unfortunate that the circumstances had kept them from each other as one was often asleep while the other worked, or how she was often needed within her platoon’s housing to stay to coordinate her boys.

Tonight, however, had worked in their favour. Ron had left only an hour or so prior to the woman as she finished up with a debrief had between her and her sergeant, Johnny Martin. When asked by said man whether she was coming to bed soon, she had shaken her head ‘no’ and made up some silly excuse to having more work to do for the night. Martin shook his head at the woman yet a small smile on his lips told her it was an action of affection and not distaste.

“Well you make sure you look after yourself ma’am. Don’t work too hard, you need your sleep too.” The man gave Y/N a gentle pat on her shoulder as he passed her to head out the door. She continued to stand there for a few seconds more after she’d heard it close gently before she let a dragged breath leave her mouth.

“I do need my sleep.” She muttered to herself, her feet immediately moving to take her towards the housing she knew Ron was staying in. It didn’t take her long to reach his door, her feet dragging behind her with every step she took. She didn’t even bother knocking as she opened the door and stepping into the room before firmly closing it once more. The presence of the moon was once again seen as it shone directly onto the resting figure from the window across from the bed. His skin almost glowed from the white light that illuminated his skin and Y/N could feel her stomach clench at the sight of him. He lay on his stomach, with both arms tucked under the pillow his head rested on and his face turned towards her. His hair fell the same way it did the second time, so messy yet so beautiful.

His fingers twitched suddenly, the arm closest to her coming to stretch across the blanket. She glanced at his face once more only to realise she’d been caught admiring the man as she saw his eyes barely squinted open enough to see. With not a single uttering of a word, his outstretched fingers grasped at blanket before lifting it in her direction. She had understood the simple action, taking several steps forward while removing her dress uniform to expose her PT kit beneath, then jumping several step to pull her boots of quickly. By the time she had gotten herself ready for bed she was directly in front of him and had all but launched herself into Ron’s outstretched arms. He was as warm and comforting as she remembered and the woman couldn’t stop the sign of contentment that left her lips as she snuggled her face into the crook of his neck. He smiled down at her before pressing his nose into her hair and gently inhaling the calming scent of the woman he’d grown so fond of.

“Thank god you’re here.” He’d whispered groggily into her hair. “I couldn’t fucking sleep.” The comment made her smile.

“Well Ron, now you can sleep happy.” She’d replied, her warm breath travelling over the exposed skin of his neck and jaw. They had curled into each other so naturally, neither feeling more at ease in recent years than they had right then and there. He’d smiled with closed eyes and let a quiet chuckle out, his fingers rubbing gentle circles into the skin covering her hipbones in an absentminded action of adoration.

“Yeah, I can sleep happy indeed.”

So as I said, there had been three strikes before she was out. Three seperate instances that led to her demise. The first one, in her defence, was a complete and utter accident, an unforeseeable motion she couldn’t control. The second one, well, that one was not so much. And don’t even get me started on how purposeful that third one was. Her demise, of course, was love, but for the opportunity to sleep soundly in Ronald Speirs’ arms just one more time, she’d let love wreck her.

#band of brothers x reader #band of brothers #ronald speirs #ronald speirs fluff #ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs imagines #i hope y’all eat this up for breakfast lunch and dinner #he still has such a hold on me mannnnn #soft!speirs #sleepy!speirs

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lieutenant-speirs · 1 year

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𝐅𝐎𝐗𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒

▸ Rᴜʟᴇs & Rᴇɢᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs

𝐼𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑑 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑠 (𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑟 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐), 𝑎𝑠𝑘 𝑔𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠, 𝑜𝑟 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡 - 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤!

𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧 ▸Jᴜsᴛ Hᴏʟᴅ Hɪᴍ - Pᴀʀᴛ Oɴᴇ | Pᴀʀᴛ Tᴡᴏ ▸ Mɪsᴛʟᴇᴛᴏᴇ Kɪss

𝐋𝐢𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬 ▸ Multi-Fic coming soon [Speirs/Reader/Lipton]

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐧 ▸ Lᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ ғʀᴏᴍ Lɪᴘᴛᴏɴ

𝐃𝐨𝐜 𝐑𝐨𝐞 ▸"Would anyone choose you?" [WIP] ▸ I Mᴀᴅᴇ Yᴏᴜ ᴀ Vᴀʟᴇɴᴛɪɴᴇ - Part 1 | Part 2

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧 ▸ Yᴏᴜ Lᴏᴏᴋ Lɪᴋᴇ Yᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ Aʙᴏᴜᴛ Tᴏ Cʀʏ… 𝐉𝐨𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐲𝐞 ▸ Nᴇɪɢʜʙᴏᴜʀ. Fʀɪᴇɴᴅs. Lᴏᴠᴇʀs. 𝐒𝐩��𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐲 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 ▸ Lɪᴇᴜᴛᴇɴᴀɴᴛ Sᴘᴇɪʀs ▸ Dᴏᴄ Rᴏᴇ

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ▸ Eᴀsʏ Cᴏᴍᴘᴀɴʏ ʟᴇᴀʀɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛᴇ Hᴀɴɴᴜᴋᴀʜ

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speirslore · 4 months

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band of brothers: types of kisses hc

(a/n: sorry this is so long… i tried to include a lot of easy company... but if your fav isn't here, please just send an ask and i'll add them!)

send an ask if you would like to be on my taglist! :) (taglist: @ronsparky)

[dick winters]

cautious kisses

dick does not like pda only because he's extremely private and wants your relationship to be for the two of you only... no matter how nosy nix is

but there still are occasional kisses to your cheek when he’s more relaxed in front of other officers

he's tender and careful too; dick is always cupping your face, a thumb brushing across your cheek or brushing hair away from your face

dick is always very gentle and a little unsure at times

especially at the beginning of your relationship, he feels incredibly inexperienced, or at the very least, out of practice

he’s very okay with you taking the lead when kissing because he doesn't want to do anything wrong

dick is tentative and private but very into it... it's a good thing he has an insane amount self discipline because otherwise he would be kissing you 24/7

[lewis nixon]

speaking of self discipline… lew does have it but he also chooses to ignore it most of the time, if he wants to kiss you then he's going to kiss you

so many morning kisses

honestly just anytime in bed because lew plays fast and loose with 'morning' and sleep cycles

absolutely never wants to get up, has to be coaxed with a lot of kisses and cuddling, it is a huge ordeal

he always kisses with some degree of mess, a little uncontrolled, perhaps a little desperate

a lot of sudden kisses too like you think you're safe and then boom he’s all of the sudden in the room, pulling you towards him

will take advantage of any opportunity no matter how small... does he have any shame? (no, not really)

lew does shockingly get a little shy sometimes about pda though

“i don’t want to rub it in their faces…" he'll insist, "y'know... what they don’t have”

sureeee... the blush on his cheeks says otherwise though

[carwood lipton]

carwood's speciality is definitely comforting kisses

lip is always paying attention to you and what you need and how you feel and that extends to physical affection

always wants you to feel okay, better than okay, great

and if a kiss can make you feel better then he’s more than willing to oblige

affection between the two of you is every casual and common, always kissing, holding hands, some sort of physical touch

constantly smiling in between kisses

he’s just that happy and loves you so much

but the comforting kisses & affection goes both ways

kissing the stress and worry away from his face and tracing his scar with your thumb before kissing it gently, your noses almost touching after you pull away to catch your breath, the two of you wearing twin smiles

and whenever you say goodbye or reunite, you both try not to make a scene, but it's always a little bit of a scene tbh... like having to be without carwood's kisses for a week is basically criminal

all the other men think it's extremely cute though, don't worry

[ron speirs]

stolen kisses (haha)

even his kisses are stolen!

he will always come out of nowhere and will always find time for a smooch

every time you think surely ron isn't in this area, he's supposed to be somewhere else, he's not in this building... you are proven wrong

is incredibly good at carving out time to see you... and finding private places for the two of you

like he's definitely scoped a few places out before he goes to find you

one time you were in his office kissing and someone knocked on the door and he huffs and pouts because he has to break away from you, even if it's only for a second- he's not happy about it

ron barks out, “not now," before returning to you will a warm, soft smile

heavy on kisses instead of words

ron is very physical...whenever you finally pull away from a kiss... you can always see things/emotions in his eyes that you know he's not ready to say yet and finds difficult to articulate

[don malarkey]

soooo many shy kisses

okay yes, don is kind of unhinged (stealing a motorcycle, drinking methanol, etc) but not with relationships... like flirting?? kissing??

he's still incredibly enthusiastic about your relationship... very much so

but he gets really shy around you, especially with kissing

turns beet red so easily, like you love kissing him and pulling away to see him blushing all the way up to the tips of his ears <3

it's just so fun and he's having a great time... and don cannot hide his emotions or what he’s thinking so whatever he's thinking always comes out when you're kissing

"god, you're beautiful. you should bring this dress to paris when we go next weekend. oh- y'know what, skip still owes me that $40 i lent him. i really need that for next week's pass so-"

"don," you interrupt gently, brushing a hand across his jaw

he'll blush and smile sheepishly, "right, i'm shutting up, back to kissing..."

he's shy yet so excited and wants to do everything right, willing to learn and wants to learn, and just wants his inner emotions and love for you translate with physical affection

and it definitely does! don is extremely endearing and you love him for it

[joe toye]

joe's kisses are always very intense

his eye contact, his touch, his raspy voice… everything is intense in the best way possible

his hands already feel like fire, so warm against your own skin

he loves just laying next to you in bed, just observing you and taking it all in

his passion definitely goes along with the intensity

he's also extremely private about affection with you, just because it means so much to him

tends to get vulnerable and emotional very easily

and really likes pillow talk and just listening to your voice, your stories, and your perspective

he likes your reassurance too, your love, he's never felt anything like this before

so whenever he can manage to have free time alone with you, he's always savoring it

joe could kiss you for hours, he truly loves taking it all in, going slow, and savoring the time you have together

[george luz]

late night kisses are a staple for the two of you

george gets so excited being with you he doesn't want to sleep

the biggest sleepover vibes

like you both very seriously decide to go to bed but then george says something funny or does his dike impression and then you both start laughing and talking again

and kissing again, sometimes the impressions are so good you have to reward him

you guys have a lot of late nights because of this

also do kisses for warmth and sharing body heat count?

huddling in a foxhole together, in the thick of it together, like yes they don't have much food, supplies, or ammo but george is not going to let them take kisses away from him too

oh my god, laughing in between kisses

sometimes he really can’t take himself that seriously

george is like don and gets very excited

he just feels so lucky to have you and has to kiss you accordingly

kissing you and just being with you can make him a little emotional… a happy little high

cigarettes have nothing on you and your kisses!

[babe heffron]

babe is kind of like a baby deer, he's a little clumsy and sometimes unsure but he's definitely got the spirit

he is confident but he does tend to second guess himself when it comes to you, he just doesn't want to mess anything up.

like what if he uses too much tongue or he headbutts you on accident... he's just overthinking it

and sometimes you just have to grab his arm and pull him toward you and kiss him yourself

when you're alone, babe lovesss laying on your chest letting you run your fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead... but don't tell anyone

jk he doesn't care if anyone knows (and they absolutely do know)

and the guys can't even tease him that hard about it, that's much everyone loves babe... they're just happy for him tbh

babe definitely gets a little needy sometimes like where’s his daily kiss allotment :(

and he can get clingy... will 100% wrap his arms around, you pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder just because he hasn't seen you that much today

[eugene roe]

tired kisses are a doc roe staple

poor eugene, he's exhausted and jaded... a lot of the time… and the rest of the company gives the two of you space as often as they can because they know how much your presence helps him

tired kisses as in he is putting in effort but his lips don't move as fast or as needy

he's more languid and calm, and it's very enticing

forehead kisses too omg

he lovesss when you kiss his forehead; pull him against your body, your chest, your arms and he feels safe and secure

he likes kissing the top of your head too, his nose in the crown of your hair while murmuring something in french

you catch various words in french that after spending so much time with gene you can understand now

like mon ange, mon amour, ma moitié (my better half? sobbing)

your presence is so grounding for him and makes him feel more normal, like he's not constantly surrounded by death and pain

you make him feel like he doesn't have to be constantly on edge, like he can take his helmet off and not be on alert, like he hasn't totally lost himself in his job... your kisses are so grounding for him

[buck compton]

a lot of reassuring kisses

like sometimes he just has to kiss the worry off of your face

and vice versa, towards the end of the war it's not even just kisses but your presence and touch alone become extremely reassuring for him

but also... buck can be so cocky sometimes, he loves showing you off

you secretly (not so secretly) love it... like sorry it's hot

like once when the two of you were at a pub in england... he's gambling, he's drinking, he's smoking, and ofc he's kissing you!

what else is he supposed to do when he wins at darts or cards... come on

the guys hype him up and just hide their jealousy because you and buck very often seem like relationship goals

he's always touching you, like usually has a firm grip around your waist

always laughing together, everything you do together automatically seems so intimate

like in a room with the other guys... they do feel like they're intruding

just because you and buck are in the corner laughing and talking together, the love and intimacy feels like it takes over the entire room

it's just so passionate and obvious he's head over heels and that definitely comes across in his kisses

[joe liebgott]

joe's kisses strike me as tender but demanding and needy at the same time

he's a taker.... but also a giver so it evens out

some very, very eager kisses

like pushing you up against a wall, hand sliding up your thigh and mouth working down your neck...

joe is a great multitasker!

accidentally bites your lip once, it wasn't that hard or anything but he went bright red and was apologizing profusely, but also was like, "did you like it though..."

(you did but...)

bottom line is joe's just a tiny bit feral around you at all times honestly

you never know when he’s going to pull you into his lap and kiss you and you both loveeee when you sit on his lap

the men are very used to it by now

he also likes living on the edge, like who cares if the patrol's supposed to be back any minute now and could walk in at any time?

messy kisses like his mouth is just everywhere basically, he wastes absolutely no time

he is so noisy: whines, groans, moans, laughs, you get everything with joe

also loves when you tug and pull on his hair while kissing, he specifically requests it

but joe can also get incredibly soft and sweet and tender but that's strictly for your eyes only... he has a reputation to uphold ofc

he totally blows you kisses whenever one of you leaves the room... it starts ironically but now he really does enjoy doing it

[david webster]

oh david is just so romantic

like definitely over the top romantic... it's so serious to him

he's read enough (a lot) romance novels and craves that book and movie worthy relationship and love

his life IS a victorian romance novel and he will act accordingly

everyone else thinks it's incredibly cheesy but you think it’s really cute

it means so much passion whenever he's talking about you, talking to you, kissing you, etc

he's always trying to think of the right words to say and you’re like “david, just kiss me please”

ofc he obliges and he is very good at it

his touch is just always so tender, you can feel the passion and love through his kisses

he's a little hesitant sometimes, starts off slow but it's extremely easy to get him worked up and make him lose some of that self control that he works so hard to maintain and portray

[floyd talbert]

confident kisses

yeah... yeah, what more is there to say

floyd just has a way (from a lot of practice) with his mouth

he's also very attentive and is always surveying how you're reacting and feeling, always wants to make you feel good and lovesss watching your reactions

he loves when you make noises of surprise or pleasure, he always ends up grinning into your kiss, he just thinks it's sooo cute

however i do think the more serious your relationship gets and the more feelings that are attached, the more likely he gets nervous... just a little bit

but that's more with relationship things

the kissing he has down pat for sure

takes the lead, cups your cheek, always knows what to do with his hands and the perfect the angle to tilt his head

will sometimes stop super close to your lips and just grin, teasing kisses

floyd loves having all of your attention to himself, when you loop your arms around his neck, when your lips are on his face, when you're talking quietly only for him to hear, when you're the only one that actually calls him floyd, ugh he just melts

[shifty powers]

shifty is the absolute king of gentle kisses

like so so shy

especially at the beginning of your relationship, you definitely have to kiss him first and initiate everything

he's so scared of reading the moment wrong and messing everything up

which you always reassure him that he won't

he has literally the entire company hyping him up, they've been waiting for y'all to get together for basically years now

but once he's more comfortable, he's always wrapping his arms around you, smiling, and kissing you freely

he struggles to articulate all love and emotions he's feeling but you still love listening to him talk about it

he just blurts out "i love you so much" one day after kissing, when you're laying in bed in austria

and he immediately looks terrified, not that he regrets what he said because he most certainly means it, but he doesn't know what you're going to say

but it's only a few seconds before you grin and throw your arms around him, "i love you too," you mutter before kissing him, a little more intense, and with a little more fervor than your usual kisses

[bill guarnere]

his nick name of wild bill definitely applies to his kissing style

absolutely wild

sometimes borderline unhinged

especially if he's been drinking or partying

but also... if it's the two of you alone, having a mellow morning or night, bill does get soft

the other guys aren't even surprised by that, they know he has a soft and gentle side to him, they can see it whenever you're with him

bill is sporting a basically permanent smile while watching you

trying to burn the visual of you into his brain so he can keep it forever

his kisses are encapsulating and very distracting

he hates seeing you upset or stressed and he uses kisses and physical affection to help

loves holding you and being the big spoon

and you love it too

it's soooo comforting

and it's never easy to not be constantly reminded that you're in the middle of a war, about to jump into france, etc, but with him, his firm arms around you, it's a little easier to forget

[chuck grant]

chuck strikes me as very confident, kind of like tab

he just wants to appreciate you!

and shower you with love

he will never run out of ways and words to compliment you

he's been admiring you from afar for sooo long, now that your in his arms it feels incredibly surreal

his kisses are always firm and secure

and chuck really likes when you take the lead and take what you want from him

being away from you always stirs something extremely confident and desperate in him

really enjoys holding your hand

always having physical contact with you, that's a necessity

ooo... he loves having a hand on your thigh

especially if he can sneak it under the table during dinner or a meeting

just his hand sliding up and down, gripping and then releasing, and then looking at his innocent yet knowing smile...

that definitely leads to some intense kisses, your hands running through his hair, hand cupping his jawline, you leading the show

he lovesss getting a reaction from you

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kiwi-and-pasta-at-3am · 25 days

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Despite the rumors and the appearance, you may find that Ronal Speirs...

Can actually be kinda soft!!

#one time someone used the term “nurse Speirs”#and I've actually never been able to forget about that #imagine he got picked to be a medic #i think he would have rocked that #omg me rambling about Speirs again!!! that doesn't happen often at all!!#please ignore this it's probably nonsense #anyways #i love him so much #i think you can tell #band of brothers #bob #ron speirs #ronald speirs

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danopdf · 2 months

Text

Ronald Speirs x Medic!Reader Headcanons

Notes: Welcome to my Ron X reader headcanons! It goes through everything from Taccoa - post war! Word Count: 13,768

this is based off the fictional character(s) portrayed by the actor(s) in the show band of brothers, with no disrespect toward the real life veterans.

Warnings: Usual Band of Brothers and war stuff, swearing, once you get to the smut part there's too many things to give warnings for (it's not nasty just super smutty and a lil' kinky) Enjoy :D <3

============

TOCCOA / NORMANDY

For the first bit you're at Toccoa you think that he HATES you because he’s constantly glaring at you the whole time from afar

It gets to a point where you start getting really nervous whenever you catch him staring, so none of the guys ever leave you completely alone just so they know you’re safe, and because, “we don’t know the guy, he could be crazy.” “Donny, we signed up to jump out of planes, we’re all crazy.”

He leaves anonymous gifts for you on your cot

Nothing fancy, just something like an extra pair of socks when you get to England, or one day after you’re being teased by Don, Muck, and Penkalla and they accidentally rip the binding of your book there’s a fresh brand new copy packaged neatly on your pillow

All of the boys of course go ‘OOOOOOOOoooOOOOOoo” every time something appears just to tease you

all through the second leg of training in England, he’s still staring at you but now it’s not just from across the training area, it’s also from across the pub, and the meeting rooms, and the mess hall

“If he keeps looking at me I’m gonna start yelling at him-”

“Maybe don’t do that while he’s at the range.”

everybody notices to the point of constantly teasing you about it

“y/n you may wanna ask Doc to check your back out from all of the knives Speirs is glaring into it-“

“MUCK-!”

You notice the stares are starting to happen less and less as it gets closer to D-Day

You honestly get kinda lonely without him hovering constantly, to the point where the rest of the guys start to notice you looking around for him

“Looking ‘round for your guardian angel y/n?”

“Toye I swear to god!”

The day that you were supposed to drop into Normandy comes and gets cancelled, and you’re too anxious to sleep and decide to slip out and go for a walk to clear your head

You’re wandering around the empty streets taking it all in because for all you know, this may be your last night on Earth and goddamn it if you can’t get hammered you’re gonna take a nice fucking walk

You’re 20 minutes into your walk along a few of the random streets and just enjoying a final night of calm, when you see a figure across the street from you smoking

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust and notice who it is (it’s Ron obv), and once you do you just pause because for the first time, you’re looking at him before he’s looking at you

When he looks up from lighting his cigarette his eyes go wide and he takes a small step back because you’re looking at him, ‘oh god why are they looking at me like that-’

You just give him a small smile and raise your hand in a wave

He just stares back at you until you turn and walk away, still smiling but just thinking ‘Oh god why did I wave at him? You looked like an idiot in front of Speirs nice going-’

D-Day arrives and you’re sitting with the rest of Easy getting your final mail call before you jump and you’re just pacing waiting and mildly freaking out

By this point, you’ve gotten so much comfort from being able to look around and find Ron to ground you that before you drop your head is on a constant swivel trying to find his eyes in the crowds of soldiers

You finally find them and when he looks at you he can see just how scared you actually are, (as much as you try to hide it)

Ron decided to make his way over to you because ‘they’re scared, I should go comfort them- that’s what you do when you like someone right?’

He walks right up to the small group you’re standing next to and they go completely silent as he does, but he just walks right past them up to you and you’re terrified because he’s never been this close to you before you’ve only seen him from across a room

You both just stand there staring at each other for a moment before Ron says “I’ll see you down there. Good luck.”

You’re just standing there trying to process just how close he is to you finally, and are trying to take in all his features and the sound of his voice because, ‘If I'm going to die the final thing I want to see is a good looking man.’

One of the boys has to cough really loudly to get you to snap back to reality

“Oh-! Yes- Yes Sir, good luck to you too…I hope to see you down there…under different circumstances than I usually see people…” You try and joke, half gesturing to the white medic band across your right bicep

You’re laughing a little awkwardly because ‘God he is good looking up close’ and he’s not laughing because of course he’s not, but he does have the absolute smallest quirk of the corner of his mouth, indicating that he heard your joke at all

One of the boys from the group just leans to another and goes “God that was bad, he’s gonna shoot them the second we get down there-”

You’re all loading up into the planes, and you stop on the last ring of the ladder to take a final look at allied Europe and you catch Speirs getting into his plane across the tarmac

He turns his head and for the second time he makes eye contact with you, rather than the other way around. He just nods and climbs in, hoping that he sees you down there, alive.

Once D-Day hits and rumors start about him killing that group of POWs everyone is like ‘fuck that’ and stays clear of him even more than usual

You hear the rumours and get a little anxious about seeing him again because you don’t really know anything about him, just that he’s handsome and a bit of a badass

For a while you only see him out of the corner of your eye, while you’re either waiting with Easy or while rushing by him trying to stop a soldier from bleeding out on a stretcher

Then the day comes when you have your second conversation and you start to realise that he’s just another man trying to get through this, and that maybe he’s not so bad

it happens when Tab gets stabbed and (as one of the medics for Easy) Joe Liebgott calls for you to come help Tab

your second real “conversation” is you turning to Speirs and demanding his compress bandages to stop the bleeding from his 3 wounds

he’s not used to being given orders, he’s a CO for God's sake, but when you do it he listens like they’re coming straight from the president himself

he’s always just admired from afar (except for your single previous conversation at the airfield), but he’s listening to you like ‘yes ma’am/sir whatever you say’ he is WHIPPED

you grab his hand and press it onto one of the wounds to compress it and his mind just stops for a second, because your hand is so warm and soft and the way you’re talking to Tab telling him that he’s “gonna be okay, don’t you worry Tab, I gotcha’” makes him feel something new

you leave with Tab to take him to the med station behind the line and Ron feels his heart tug at the sight of you walking away from him, (even if it is to help someone)

you come back from the aid station that you brought Tab to about 2 days later, and in those two days Ron is constantly hovering around Easy, whenever he gets a chance to see if you’re back yet

Easy is just like side eyeing him every time he comes over thinking ‘oh god he’s gonna kill us, he’s stalking his prey’

but once you get back and he sees that you’re okay, (just covered in a little more blood from helping at the aid station) he can breathe again and goes back to Dog Company like nothing happened

After a few days of being behind the lines you start to receive a few gifts

Definitely not as many as before you dropped but one every week or so

One day you get handed a letter from a runner and it has nothing it but a simple watch with a leather strap, no note or anything, but it’s convenient because your watch got broken during your last trench raid and have been in need of a new one

he has to suppress a smile each time he catches you checking the watch

Speirs gets a pretty nasty cut on his hand during a raid and instead of being concerned he’s decided it’s his chance to have another conversation with you, so instead of going to his own company's medics he makes a beeline straight for you.

you’re standing with a group of Easy men and he just comes walking right up to you being all like “y/n.” “o-oh! yes Sir- " "need your help.” and then he just wanders away knowing you’ll follow him

the boys you’re standing with just give you a look like you’re a dead man walking. George legit says “it’s been an honour serving with you” like you’re about to die (and honestly you’re so nervous you may just as well)

walks into the makeshift aid station where Gene is working on the shrapnel in Winters leg and Ron just leans against a table and hold his hand out to you, the blood is steadily flowing out of the cut and your eyes go wide and you start to freak out because “Sir this is a serious cut you should have gone to someone sooner! Where's your company medic? They could have helped you faster than coming to me!”

he just stands there staring at you with this blank expression but his eyes are so soft when he looks at you fussing over his cut.

(Gene and Winters are off to the side just giving each other a look, ever the observant ones)

you tell him his hand needs stitches but only a few. He's not been listening to you for the past 20 minutes while you stop the bleeding and disinfect his cut, he’s just staring at you and the way you look in the dirty window light.

he only snaps back when the stitching needle first threads through his skin and he takes a sharp breath in because he’s so caught off guard

your head snaps up to him when he hisses and you look so sad that you’ve hurt him

“Sorry Sir, I didn’t mean t’ hurt you, but we gotta get this closed up.”

your hand that is holding his steady moves slightly so you can run your thumb along his palm to sooth him

his whole arm is tingling when you touch him so gently, completely forgetting about you stitching his gash up until you pull your hand back like “alright Sir, you’re good to go. be sure to keep it clean, and in about a week your company medic can take those out for you.”

Just grunts and nods a thanks to you as he walks out the door.

Gene laughs a little and you turn to him all “what? what's it?” “nothin’…” “what do you mean ‘nothing’!” “just funny is all…you’re good to go Sir.” Gene just drops the conversation after that and leaves you spiralling as to what he meant by ‘nothin’’

when you make your way back to the group you were hanging out with, Malarkey just starts yelling “they’re alive!!! you made it, you stayed into the jaws of death and lived to tell the tale!!!”

You all laugh and the guys continue to tease you and you’re just standing there sputtering out excuses and blushing. Ron is just watching from afar through a cloud of smoke and his mouth tilts up just the slightest

You don’t have many conversations with him, but you both try and subtly go out of you ways to be near each other

Even the men start to notice that whenever Speirs has a moment of freetime he’s lingering around Easy or the aid station

You tend to walk around together a lot, (he’s always waiting outside the aid station for you after a long shift), it’s either you both walking in silence or you talking while he smokes

Rarely does he ever talk on your walks and it’s even rarer that it’s about his life outside of the war

The one or two times he slips up and tell you something about himself you feel so warm and hold that so close to your heart that you start a small list of facts about him in your notebook

Nothing huge just small things like, “like peonies”, “got a really bad haircut when he was 10 that he still hasn’t emotionally recovered from”

Ron wants to know everything about you and loves to hear you talk

He also starts a list of facts about you (that you both compare much later in the war)

(After a long while of knowing each other the lists have certain things crossed off like, “favourite colour is green the blue of the lake in his hometown”, and “their favourite song is ‘everybody loves my baby’ ‘sweethearts holiday”)

one day a book you were just talking to Webster about appears at the top of your pack, and sure it’s a little beaten and battered but you like it nonetheless, and all the guys start losing their minds because “WE’RE IN A WAR ZONE AND HE'S FINDING TIME TO GO BOOK SHOPPING FOR YOU???”

At this point you realise that you actually start to like-like him

You spend so much time together that the boys start poking fun at you and the officers start making some subtle remarks at Speirs (looking at you nix and Harry)

Everyone gets taken off the line and has a break pass in Aldbourne and it’s there that Speirs decided that now is the time to make some sort of move on you

Ron is picking you up from a long shift at the aid station with Gene and you look practically dead on your feet as you walk out, your hair is a mess, there’s blood on your clothes and under your nails and you’re pretty sure there may be vomit on your boots but to him you look like an angel with the light from the aid station coming from behind you giving you a halo

You walk up to him and give him a tired smile, already used to the routine of him walking you back to where you’re being billeted in, when he just blurts out

“Will you go dancing with me?"

You freeze, staring into his eyes (which are full of fear, although you’d never tell anyone that) and break out into a huge grin

“yeah…yeah I’d love to go dancing with you.”

Ron lets out the biggest sigh of relief you’ve ever heard and you gently slip your hand into his as he starts to walk

You just have the biggest grin on your face as he drops you off at your door and says “so, I’ll pick you up tomorrow night?”, “I’ll be waiting.”

This man is at your door 10 minutes early just pacing trying to work up the nerve to knock on your door, and you’re just watching him pace giggling to yourself because this man will jump out of a plane and kill Germans and show no fear, but he gets scared picking someone up for a dance

He finally knocks 2 minutes before he said he would be there and you rush to the door, pulling it open and freezing

Because good god he is in his dress uniform, clean shaven, hair neatly done and he is beautiful

You both stand there looking each other up and down for a few moments, taking the other in, since you’ve never seen each other cleaned up in your dress uniforms before

“Hi-” “You look-”

He takes (steals) one of the jeeps from the base to take you out to a small dance hall that’s just far enough out of the way that none of the regular enlisted men can get to it without a vehicle (perks of being a scary officer), so it’s you, a very small handful of other officers and the locals

This boy can DANCE

I fully believe that he would dance with his sisters and mother and grandmother when he was younger (in the way that you force your youngers to play games with you when you’re kids)

He’s also strong (HIS ARMS IN HIS DRESS UNIFORM ARE MMMMM-) so he can swing and spin you around like nobody’ business

This boy is smiling and laughing like there’s not a single thing wrong in the world, because when you’re in his arms that’s how everything feels

You both drink quite a bit and get rather giggly

You spend that last half of your night tucked together at the back of the hall in a booth, nursing lukewarm beers with your legs thrown over his and just whispering and giggling with each other

He is running his fingers up and down your leg!!!! He’s not doing it as any form of proposition, he’s doing it because he genuinely loves to just touch you and finds so much comfort in it

You’re both just talking and telling each other about yourselves and what your lives are like/what you want them to be after the war is over, (“If I knew all it took to get to know you was a few drinks, I would have stolen Nix’ secret stash.”)

You’re just constantly leaning closer and closer to each other throughout the night, to the point that your lips are basically brushing every time you speak

At the end of the night he drops you off at your house (he spins and waltzes you up to your door. Yes he’s tipsy.), and you lean in and give him a kiss, just a quick peck before rushing out a “Good night, I had a wonderful time!” and running through the door

You peek out the window to see him leave but he’s just standing there for a second, in a slightly tipsy daze because, you just kissed him, and he’s pretty sure his heart stopped

The next morning you wake up with a mild hangover and memories of an incredible night

You somehow manage to pull yourself out of bed, strip off the last of your dress uniform from last night and get yourself down to the mess hall in your OD’s

The second you have your food and walk over to Easy the boys lose their minds and are cheering and giving you pats on the back

You’re so confused because “what’s all this for? The war end while I was asleep?”

“Heard you had a little date last night with a certain officer-?”

Your head snaps over to Gene because he was the only other one at the aid station when Ron asked you out

“GENE-!” who looks smug as fuck as you start throwing wadded up napkins at him

Ron is watching from the officers table, smirking at how flushed you become from all the teasing

Nixon just leans over and goes, “You chose a good one Sparky. Those boys might be scared of you, but if you break their heart, they’ll break your fucking neck.”

I don’t think that you put a label on what you are, at least not for a long while since you’re both so scared of losing the other and in war nothing is guaranteed

You both just know that if you need someone to talk to or just are in need of some comfort you go to each other

You start to seek each other out unconsciously, eyes immediately searching for each other in every room and in every group after every mission

If someone is looking for one of you they know to look for the other because you’re never far behind each other

There’s a joke going around within Easy that you can’t ‘sleep without your teddy bear’ because you can’t sleep very well without Speirs

Sleeping cuddled up with Speirs in a pile of hay, leaves you better rested than sleeping alone on a real bed

You never tell each other you love one another until you go on leave in Paris, up until then you just say, “Come back to me.” “I will. Promise."

And the second you get back from anywhere you make a b-line for each other and say, “You came back to me.” “I promised, didn’t I?”

(You tell him that you love him first though. He doesn’t even hesitate to say it back.)

I don’t think that y’all kiss a lot just because Speirs is a very reserved person with a reputation to keep up

He does love to drag you behind buildings, away from prying eyes to kiss you or make out with you (he LOVES to make out with you against a wall where you can both just keep pushing against each other- we’ll get to this later, this man makes me have many thoughts)

You and Ron are sitting at the back of the room, just holding hands and playing with each others fingers, half watching the movie when some officer comes bursting through the doors turning on all the lights, shutting off the movie and yelling about moving back out

Ron and you look at each other because, “I didn’t buy a scarf in Paris."

BASTOGNE

At first you two are excited because you can have secret foxhole rendezvous, within a week you’re both like, ‘I am freezing and emotionally distraught, do not touch me’

The only person who bring you any comfort when you can’t be near Ron is Gene, but nobody wants to lose both their medics in one blast so you’re either in a foxhole by yourself or a little bit off the front and sitting with Joe Liebgott and/or George Luz

Everytime Ron comes by the foxhole the guys are still scared of him so they tend to stay silent while the two of you talk or they just completely dip and leave the two of you alone

(they realise how little time the two of you get to spend together now that you’re both: a) on the front line again, and b)meant to be on full alert to watch for any stragglers trying to force their way through)

The guys are still weary that you’re with Ron (in what sorta way you’re together the guys still aren’t 100% sure still), but I think that seeing the way he treats you in Bastogne changes that

He’s constantly making rounds, and “mysteriously” ending up at your foxhole

(he blames it on how sparse the line is but everybody knows that’s a lie because that man knows where everything is at all times)

You both don’t talk a lot during Bastogne, finding more comfort in physical closeness and sharing what little warmth you both have with each other

You’re both freezing but somehow Ron never seems to shiver, like he can just will his body not to, whereas you’re just shaking like a leaf as he hold you

On Christmas you’re huddled in your foxhole with Joe and George, and Winters comes crunching through the snow towards you

Being the nicest man ever he just crouches down and tell you

“Go.”

“‘Scuse me Sir?”

“Go spend Christmas with Sparky.”

You’re out of the foxhole the second he says ‘Christmas’ with a quick “Thank you Sir-really thank you!” over your shoulder as you’re moving as fast as your frozen legs can carry you

Plopping into his foxhole with your blanket and he’s startled for a second before smiling at you and in just the absolute softest voice

“Hey sweetheart, Merry Christmas.” with the sweetest smile that warms you from the inside out

He got (stole) a gift for you. It’s a non-army-issued scarf that’s your favourite colour.

You gave him a photo of the two of you that you’ve been secretly holding onto since you got them developed

It’s a photo of the two of you getting ready to have the actual photo of the two of you in your dress uniforms taken, but it's just him looking down at you as you fix his tie

He won’t admit it but he tears up a little when he sees it, because you’ve been getting the shit bombed out of you every day, you’re freezing to death, you don’t have enough of anything and everybody is so tired, but this photo is so domestic and sweet, and it reminds him of when you were anywhere but here and he just loves you so much he can’t fucking stand it

New years eve comes around and you’re in your shared foxhole with Liebgott and about 2 minutes before midnight Ron comes to do “his rounds” and “make sure everybody’s dug in properly”

(at this point everybody knows that if Ron is seen around Easy he’ll say it’s to check on everybody, but they all know he just wants to see you and make sure you’re okay)

He kneels down next to you and Joe nudges you awake

You startle upright and when you realise nobody is hurt you look and see Ron next to where you were sleeping

“Ron!” you’re so sleepy but so excited to see him for the first time since Christmas day, that his heart just about bursts

Just just motions you to follow him which you happily do, he’s a few paces ahead of you and you job a little to catch up to him and slip your freezing fingers into his fingerless glove covered ones

He leads you a little ways away from the other foxholes and behind a few trees (not so far that you couldn’t reach one if you started getting bombed again but here they won’t hear whatever you both say)

“What’s up Ronnie?”

He just holds a finger up for you to wait, after about 20 seconds of silence he whispers

“3…2…1” and gently cradles your face and kisses you so sweetly that you can’t help but sigh into it

It honestly turns into a light makeout before you pull back from him

“Wha-...what was that for? Not that I’m complaining but-”

“Happy new year sweetheart.”

You just beam at him because you may not have remembered but he did (specifically so that he could have an excuse to celebrate and make out with you)

“Happy new year honey.”

The day to take Foy comes finally and you’re sent out onto the field with the boys

You and Gene are not too far away from each other just incase the other needs any assistance

Ron is having the words day of his life, because he’s just stood up on that hill watching the battle take place, and he can’t do anything to help you

You’re hiding behind that building with Lipton when you hear someone calling for a medic on the other side of the street

Ron just got the order to take over and he’s about to start running when he sees you go down

you stuck your head around the corner to get a better look at who was yelling and you get *ping!*’d by a bullet, right off the side of your helmet, throwing you back onto the snow

Ron takes of running through the field because ‘oh god they’ve been hit’ and he needs to get this situation under control because god knows Dike isn’t going to

he takes over for Dike and starts giving out orders before running to “talk to carwood” (check if you’re alive)

he sees you sitting up against the brick wall partially covered by Randleman’s arm comforting the best he can in this situation you as you shake -because, sure you may have been through various war zones in the past year and a bit, but everybody knows that you don’t kill medics- and he can finally breathe a sigh of relief as he realises you’re not hurt just extremely shaken at the close call

When Carwood tells him they need to link up with I company he doesn’t hesitate to start running again, you lean forward trying to grab at his jacket yelling for him to come back

he ignores you, knowing that if he looked back at your terrified face he wouldn’t be able to move forward

Carwood leans over to tell you that he’s made it to I company, but you’re just sitting there shaking because “oh god he’s gonna die, he’s gonna fucking die- Lip why would you tell him that? You know how he is!”

When Lip peaks his head back around the building he sees Ron running back to you and decided against telling you because he knows that’ll just make you worse

the second Ron makes it back to you, you're pounding against his chest with closed fists and yelling at him through tears that he’s “-an asshole! what the fuck were you thinking?! what if you got hit- i can’t fucking stand you!”

Ron isn’t hurt because he knew that was going to terrify you but he had to do it

He’s not even paying attention to you tbh, he’s talking to Lip because he needs to get you safe first, reunions are for after the battle is done

Once the battle is officially over you’re all sitting about, most of the men sitting on the tank in the centre of town, singing and being filmed by the camera men.

you’re standing partially off to the side next to George, practically ignoring Ron -who is lingering nearby talking to Winters- giving you glances every few seconds

He knows you have every right to be frustrated and angry with him because he put his life at risk multiple times without thinking of the consequences other than he ‘needs to end this gotta make sure you’re safe’, but that doesn’t mean that it hurts any less

suddenly a shot rings out from the attic of one of the destroyed houses and a bullet whizzes right by you, everybody scatters, George grabs you and pull you behind the building with Shifty

you’re completely frozen in George’s grip, terrified that you almost got shot again

And “Jesus Christ, don’t they know you’re not supposed to shoot medics, they’ve got a fucking armband for a reason” from George behind you who has an iron grip on your arms

waiting a few moments after Shifty took the shot people nervously start walking back onto the street, but Ron makes a beeline for where George is still gripping onto you (explaining that he “can’t lose another friend he just can’t”)

Ron just grabs you and pulls you into him, you tuck your head right between his shoulder and jaw, your cold nose against his neck causing him to shiver

he just holds you and you hold him

cut to: night in the church and you’re finally warm and able to shed some layers since you’re no longer freezing to death

Ron walks up to you, no jacket on just his sweater with the army-issued suspenders hanging around his waist (‘he looks like such husband material- now is not the time you’re supposed to be mad at him!!!’)

“Can I speak to you…in private…” he leads you through the church to one of the back rooms and closes the door so you can speak freely

You both just stand there staring at each other, both being too stubborn to apologise first

You’re just staring at him in the candlelight for a moment, taking in the way the light flickers off his features and his eyes and you just burst into tears, bringing your hands up to over your face

Ron is so startled it takes a moment for his brain to reboot and realise ‘holy shit they’re crying’ and scoop you into his arms

He rubs the back of your head and you just weep into his chest, crying out run-on sentences like “I’m sorry i was hitting you I was so mad at you- why the fuck would you do that-” as he tries to comfort you between your sobs, “I’m sorry-” “What if you had gotten hit, I couldn’t have gotten to you, I would have just had to watch-” “I’m so sorry” “I don’t hate you I promise, I’m sorry I was so mad-”

Ron just stands there rubbing over your head and back, rocking you in his arms as he lets you cry about everything that’s happened

Once you settle down a little bit so now you’re just hiccupping and the last few tears falling down your cheeks Ron just whispers into the crown of your head “I thought I lost you…”

You pull back a little and tilt your head up to look at him “...what do you mean? Just because you scared the shit outta me doesn’t mean I’m gonna leav-”

“No when you- I saw you get hi-” He closes his eyes to try and calm himself, just imagining what had happened to you and what he thought happened to you brings him to tears, “I saw you fall and lay there and I thought I just watched the love of my life die in front of me-”

“Ron-Ron please look at me…” He has to will his eyes open, ‘I’m here, I’m okay I promise. A little scared, a little dinged up, but I’m safe, and you’re safe- and we’re okay.” you both just lean back into each other and hold each other for a few minutes, both trying to calm yourselves and reassuring each other that you’re okay

Gentle “I thought I lost you” kisses !!!!!!

About an hour after, you and Speirs disappear you come back out to the main room, the choir is still singing and a few of the boys look over, ready to poke fun at you and lighten the mood, but the second they see your face they back out because, you may not let on but you’re just as affected by everything as everyone else is, and you watching the man you’re in love with risk his life was finally your breaking point

You fall asleep in that church cuddled up on one of the pews towards one of the side windows, Ron sitting sideways on the pew with his legs laid out, you’re laying cuddled into him with your back against his chest and holding his arms wrapped around you

You both just whispering to each other how much you love one another between sleepy kisses as you fall asleep

HAGENEAU

Hageneau isn’t much better emotionally, everybody is still cold and miserable, and people keep dying even though you’re covered by houses and roofs

The only saving grace is the single warm shower with no soap, the clean uniform and the uncomfortable squeaky mattresses

Speaking of the showers, the officers get their own shower area away from the other men, that are broken into small cubicles for a bit more privacy

Ron sneaks you into the officers shower so you can have some time for just yourself, instead though you ask Ron to stay with you

He's hesitant because you never get any time to just be alone, constantly surrounded by other soldiers or on occasion being shuttled to the aid station as an extra set of hands

But he takes one look at you, covered in blood and dirt, barely able to keep your eyes open, cold and so so upset, and he folds like a lawn chair, nodding and following you to one of the stalls

When you shower together this time nothing about it is sexual, it’s the complete opposite of your time in Paris, nobody is laughing and making soapy mohawks or having really good shower sex. You’re just standing near each other, sometimes not even touching, just enjoying the warm water and the feeling of weeks of dirt and blood running down the drain

You both stand there a few times, looking at each other and the others body, taking in all the changes that your body has gone through since before Bastogne

You spend some time just running your hands over the others' new scars, some are fresher and some have faded with time. There’s a few scars that were fresh when you were on leave and when you both run your fingers over them for a moment you can imagine you’re back there safe and haven’t yet gone through the hell-on-earth that is that forest

Then the ground rattles with artillery and you decide that’s enough time wishing you were somewhere else.

Ron claims a room in the least destroyed house he can find and is like “I found a room for us :)” and something about the way he says “us” makes you feel warmer than the sun and it lifts your mood so much for such a little thing

The night of the prisoner snatch is stressful and you’re not even going across the river

You’re sat on the edge of the allies bank right where the boats will land, just incase anybody is hurt

You spend the entire time after they launched crouched against the cold dirt hoping that your friends make it out okay

Of course nothing goes right and it’s practically a fist fight as the boat sails across the water

You’re right there the second they land and jump into action

The boys carry Eugene Jackson towards the basement where the rest of the men had been waiting, struggling as he writhed and cried from the pain, limbs flying out every which way, and eventually smacking you right in the face

Your eyes water as Eugene's fist collides with your cheek, sending you stumbling back into the wall

There’s yelling and chaos and you holler for someone to “go grab Doc Roe!”

By the time Gene gets to you your fresh uniform has blood smeared on it from trying to cradle Eugene's face to keep him still and your hands are wet with the red liquid

Gene gestures for you to move and allow him to take over which you do willingly, now turning to Babe to try and distract him from the horrible screaming and crying Eugene is letting out

Ron is sitting up on the bed in the he had commandeered for you both when you come shuffling into the room blood soaking your hands and smeared on your fresh uniform

He doesn’t look up from the files he was given, just greeting you with a, “Hey sweetheart, how’d it go?”

You don’t respond, just walking silently into the bathroom attached to the room turning on the tap and scrubbing the blood off your hands

“Baby?”

You’re just scrubbing, and scrubbing and scrubbing and it just ‘won’t come off’ and ‘jesus christ why won’t it come off?’

You’re not even scrubbing anymore you’re just scratching at your hands, your wrists, your arms, and you just want it off “off, off, get it off”

And suddenly rough hands gently grab your wrists and there's a voice speaking to you and telling you that, “it’s okay, we’ll get it off, we’ll get it off…take a deep breath and we’ll get it off”

You’re not even crying you’ve just gone numb and have a thousand yard stare over Ron’ shoulder as he gently washes your hands in his own, he’s watching the red water turn to pink and finally to clear

Ron takes his time, making sure to clean every finger and under every nail until your hands are the cleanest they’ve been since before Bastogne

Ron turns off the tap and just looks at you with the saddest eyes, you don’t even realise he’s finished until he asks you “are you okay?” he knows the answer but knows that’s the only way to get you to tell him what happened

“Eugene died…” his eyes go wide, “Jackson- Eugene Jackson…” his face goes slightly more lax, realising that your fellow medic hadn’t been killed “he was twenty-three…he kept crying he was in so much pain, his face- he was-”

Ron is watching you concerned and gets scared as you just stop talking, like someone suddenly turned off a radio

“You don’t have to talk y/n…can I- can I touch you?” He’s never seen you this small before, you’re like a wounded animal, your eyes are dead and looking straight through him

Not even looking at him you just nod silently. Ron nods back and scoops you into his arms, carrying you back into the main room, gently placing you on the bed

You’re both silent as he unlaces and takes off your boots, and then your dirty jacket and (he asks of course), your pants and shirt too

he’s already making a plan to get you a new uniform before you wake up

he grabs his sweater he was wearing that night in the church and pulls it over you, it covers you well enough since it’s a size too big

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed and Ron gets up for a moment and walks over to his pack and takes out a small bottle and a rag, he tips just a few drops of the liquid onto it and comes back to you, so softly just brushing it over your hands to get rid of the smell of copper blood

Once he’s done you raise your hands to your nose and it just smells like Ron

It takes you a moment because you haven’t smelled it since Paris but it’s the cologne he bought while you were both there, and it just takes you back to the time you spent together, when everything was okay and it felt like you weren’t two soldiers on leave but just two people in love spending time together

you realise that he wiped just enough of the cologne on your hands that you can’t smell the copper anymore and you can just smell him

you just lay down and curl up on the bed as Speirs gets his outer layers and boots off before climbing in behind you and pulling into him, your back to his chest

he just holds you the whole night, letting you cry, or mumble about how “none of this is fair”, and he talks about what you’re going to do together after all this is over, talking to you sleep

“I’ll get you a house with a big old porch that wraps around the entire house. We can drink tea and watch the sun go down.”

(had to throw in a Notebook quote for emotional damage)

GERMANY

When news comes that you’ll be moving in to occupy Germany you can’t tell whether to be excited or terrified because taking Germany means the end of the war, but it also means a final stand on the Germans part

Now that Ron is Easy’ CO that means that you can travel in the same vehicle

So you’re both sitting in the backbed of a truck with some other Easy men when you see something bright flash over your hand

You hold up your hand and see it flash again

Looking over your shoulder you see from behind the thick layer of trees, the sun is shining for the first time in nearly 2 months

You shoot up from your seat, turning to look out the side of the uncovered truck and Ron shoots out to grab your waist to stop you from tumbling over

“Woah-! What are you doing- What is it?”

“The sun!”

He looks up at you like you’re crazy

“The sun is out! And it’s warm!”

You guys break through the trees and the sun just lights you up, and for the time in months the sun is out, and its yellow and it’s warming you from the outside in

Ron is just holding you by the waist and looking up at you like you’re crazy but suddenly the yellow light from the sun is shining on your face, and the wind is blowing through your hair and you are beaming looking at the sun shining overhead

You get so excited at the warmth you’re finally getting and start to stip off your scarf, fingerless gloves, hat and thicker jacket

Joe playfully wolf whistles and the sound of it snaps Ron out of the trance you had unknowingly put him in with a, “Shut it Liebgott!”

Compared to the last town you stayed in Landsberg seems like a dream

Warm homes, real beds, actual fresh food and warm weather

But then you find the camp

And everything seems just hopeless

You all had known the Germans were bad, there’s a reason you’re fighting a war against them

But none of you had really realised just how bad it really was

As you walk through the open gates people are gently grasping at your jacket, your hair, your hands

Looking for some sort of comfort and thanking you

You try and comfort them back, saying words of relief in the broken German Joe had been teaching you back in the foxhole in Bastogne

As a medic you and Gene are asked to stay behind to give any attention to anyone you possibly can

Ron has to go back to the battalion HQ to give his report of what they found, and leaving you here, watching you take care of the people who have been through such horrible acts as they close the gates behind him, Nixon, Winters and Welsch, locking you in there is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do

You don’t come home until late that night, reeking of death and alcohol

You and Ron don’t say anything to each other, you just sit on a couch in the house the officers were sharing, and you pull out the random bottle Lewis gave you and just pass it back and forth in silence the whole night, knowing that you had to get up and go back there again in the morning

Leaving the people in the camp behind was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do, forming a relationship of trust with the people in there and suddenly having to up and leave them after a week because of some higher-ups orders was one of the most frustrating experiences you’ve ever had

But when Ron told you you’re leaving to Berchtesgaden it felt like the beginning of the end

The drive up through the mountains is one of the most beautiful views you’ve ever seen

“It’s beautiful here. We should come back again one day.”

“You mean like when we’re not getting shot at?”

“Of course I mean when we’re not getting shot at Ron.”

Walking through the small town of completely abandoned high ranking Nazi homes was so eerie and had everyone on guard, until the entire place was swept and cleared the men started drinking like the war was over

(which at this point is basically was)

Ron is looting like it’s his job. He comes back to the room in the house the officers taken over with armfulls of expensive items everytime he comes back from somewhere

You spend most of your time hanging out with the other men of Easy, exploring the area, swimming and looting as well

You and Ron spend one night together where you’re just laying in the large bed in the officers house, with all the windows open and are just talking about what’s going to happen next

“War in Europe’s is over…do you have enough points to go home?”

“No…even if I did you’re not going to the Pacific without me Sparky.”

It’s a difficult conversation to have because you’ve both just barely made it through the war in Europe together and now you’re going to be shipped off to the Pacific where everything is 10x worse, which means it’s 10x more likely that one of you isn’t making it out of there alive

Ron is in his dress uniform watching you play baseball with everyone, just taking in the moment

The second that Dick says that the war is over your eyes snap to each other and you run and jump into his arms

He lifts you up and gives you the biggest kiss, (which has the boys cheering even louder)

You both get HAMMERED that night with everyone (except for Dick who is present but is not drinking lol)

There’s a chugging competition between everyone, (Lewis is a man who sips his drinks so he does not do well, I think that Bill wins, then Joe Toye and Ron is maybe 3d)

By the time 2 am rolls around everyone is blissfully drunk, and you and Ron have migrated out to the balcony and are just slow dancing together silently

since the war has been officially declared over you spend the rest of your time in Germany relaxing, swimming and just having fun and being kids with everyone basically, until you’re given a way to get back to the states

POST WAR

You go back to your families for about 2 months before you realise that you can’t live without each other and yall buy a house

it’s a fixer upper in a nice neighbourhood and it becomes your own project

you buy a camera to document the process of you renovating the house until it becomes your dream home

it takes about 8 months for it to be finished, and after Ron claims the garden as his fixer upper project and he makes it beautiful

I don’t Ron actually proposes I think he just looks up at you one day, the sun shining through the living room window, the radio playing quietly and you just look so ethereal and content, it reminds him of when he asked you to go dancing with him that he just can't help but say

“Will you marry me?”

You’re already smiling before you even look at him, taking your time to put your bookmark in before looking at him with a smile to rival the sun and just say

“Yes. I think I will.”

You guys are married within a year of him asking

I think you would have a small wedding, right in that perfect time where spring turns to summer and it’s not too hot but everything in Ron’s beautiful garden is blooming

You have the ceremony outside of a historical home under a huge willow tree

It’s just you both, your immediate families and Easy, everyone is dressed in their dress uniforms and I think Ron would be too (unless you asked him to wear a proper suit in which case he absolutely would)

Lipton is Ron’s best man, with Lewis being a part of his groomsmen

Dick walks you down the aisle (he is crying the whole way) and hands you off to Ron

The reception is in the backyard of the home, there's a beautiful ceremony setup (i'm legit picturing Bilbo baggins 111th birthday party energy)

The list of people had to be approved before the wedding because everybody wanted to make a speech

The list goes: You and Ron, one of each of your parents, Dick, Eugene, Lewis, Malarkey

You and Ron have a perfect first dance and the second it’s over you’re being spun around the floor by every soldier in Easy, all saying things like “you never danced with us at any of the pubs so we’re making up for lost time!”

He love to garden after the war

The officers come over about every 2 months to catch up and have dinner, and every single time one of them gets roped into hearing about how “I asked for white hydrangeas and do you know what Glenda at the store gave me? Pink hyacinth! Can you believe her? Everybody knows that you can’t put pink hyacinth next to pink peonies, they’d clash!”

“Dick, I’d go save your husband over there before he buries mine in his precious garden.”

I don’t think you have/adopt kids right away, instead you adopt a dog from a shelter that you treat like your kid

I do think Ron would like to be a dad one day though

post war i think he either just had a calm day job like down at a shop or something or he becomes a teacher (elementary school maybe like grade 6? and all the kids love him)

i don’t think he talks a lot about the war once its over, only the happy parts at least

how he sleeps head cannons:

he likes cuddling you in any way possible but he prefers either your back to his front or his head on your chest with his body half sprawled on top of yours

DEATH GRIP ON YOU, you have to pry his arms off you if you need to get up in the night

but he does get nightmares a lot, not ones where he’s kicking and screaming, but he starts to shift and mumble

you usually wake him up by just holding him and quietly talking to him to wake him

he wakes with a start and a jolt and his breathing is rapid and uneven and it takes him a few minutes to remember he’s home and he’s safe

you both just lay there and he silently cries for a few minutes and you comfort him

i think after a night like that he’s up for the rest of the night, he just putters around or sits up and thinks, he always tells you to go back to bed though

you always stay up with him, saying that “I was awake anyways, couldn’t sleep.” through big yawns laying against his side on the couch or big window seat

there was one night a few months after the war ended and everything was still a little too fresh, and Ron is mumbling and shifting

you wake up because he starts to throw his arms around

you lean over to try and wake him up because he’s getting louder and starting to kick his legs

Then his arms start to flail

you ‘re getting scared because he just won’t wake up so you grab him by his shoulders and shake him, begging for him to open his eyes

His eyes shoot open as he’s frantic and lost and you realise that he's not here with you

His hands come up and he grabs your arms so tight you’re pretty sure they’ll bruise and he shoves you off of him, you go tumbling off the bed onto the floor, smacking your head

You lay there dazed for a moment dazed, your head aching

Ron has pushed himself up against the headboard, trying to calm his breathing and come back down from whatever memory he had been trapped in

You both just sit/lie still for a minute, the only sound being your heavy breathing, until Ron whispers

“Y/n?”

And god he just sounds so small, and broken and scared

You haven’t heard him this scared since Bastogne when he thought you died, and it scares you just how defeated he sounds

You push yourself off the floor and crawl on the bed, flicking on the small bedside lamp and illuminating the room just enough that you can see just how messy he looks

His eyes are wet and his hair is a mess, his chest is heaving with shuddering breaths

You don’t touch him, just reach your hand out and place it between you two, giving him the option to take it or not

“Yeah Ron, I’m here…don’t worry, I’m here, you’re safe in our home.”

He gently reaches out and tangles your fingers together, slowly shifting closer to you, seeking some comfort but not wanting to touch you, his body still on high alert from his dream

“Wh-what were you doing on the floor? Did- did I-”

“Ron no-”

“Oh god- I’m so sorry I- I didn’t mean to- you know I would never-” He starts to cry. No not cry, he starts to heave and sob, appalled that he could hurt you in any way

He pushes himself back from you and curls up against the headboard

You crawl right up next to him and wrap him in your arms, running a hand through his hair and up and down his back as you whisper to him

“I know Ron- I know baby. You would never hurt me. You didn’t know, you weren’t here with me, you were somewhere else.”

It never happens again this badly, but there are still nights where the one of you has to hold the other when they wake up scared, confused and just lost

The first Easy Company reunion comes around and when you show up everybody is like “Who is this man and what have you done with Captain Speirs?” because this man is giving you regular kisses and ones on the cheek, he’s holding your hand and has his palm on the small of your back, you’re holding hands and basically just being a normal couple, but the boys cannot function because “Where is our scary Captain Speirs, and what did you do with him??”

Is that a SMILE???? The boys have no idea how you’ve done this but you have somehow caused their rough and tumble CO to become so soft and loving they can barely look at the two of you

At one point everyone is dancing and he pulls you out onto the floor and I fully believe that Malarkey passes out because he’s so shocked

this boy can DANCE i’m telling you. he love to slow dance with you

He is pulling out all the moves because he's finally around his friends in a space where they’re not getting shot at constantly and he can finally let go and be himself

The boys are all whooping and hollering because you both look so carefree and in love and they’re so happy for you

when you finally have time to relax you both spend a lot of time reading with your legs thrown over his lap and his hand is just gently rubbing your calf and ankle, it’s a great reminder that you’re both here together and everything is calm and safe now

Only after the war does he actually loosen up in public, and oh boy you better be ready because the second he starts showing how much he loves you in public he refuses to stop

I’m talking: hand holding every second you’re outside because “I don’t want you to get lost…and your hands are soft”, kisses for everything whether it’s kisses as payment for getting something off a shelf for you or kisses just because you look so good that he just can’t help himself

shows you off at every chance he gets: he goes down to the shop (he’s befriended every old lady who works the register) and when he’s at checkout the lady goes “and who’ve you got with you today Ronald?” and he’s so excited and is all like, “this is y/n, my partner!”

This man reads poetry!!!! And he loves to recite it to you while you’re both cooking, or laying in bed late at night while you play with his fingers, and he loves to read it to you while you’re sitting in your backyard with his head in your lap and your fingers combing through his hair gently

looks at you with his warm gaze so full of love, almost always when you turn to look at him and see him just watching you with his warm brown eyes and you just get so shy and flustered you have to look away (he loves when you get like that he thinks it’s so fucking cute)

EXTRAS

flirts with you all the time!!! (even after you’re married. he just loves to make you swoon)

one may think that Ron would get in to fights when someone disrespects you but you alway tell him “they’re not worth it Ron don’t bother honey.”

but YOU on the other hand, if someone says something about Ron you jump their ass

that actually happened back when everyone was at some small pub one night and you’re walking back to the table with all the boys at it and some guy tries to harass you so Ron steps in with one of those ‘You better back the fuck off my partner’ looks and you start back to your seat when the guy pipes up about Ron and you just swing around and DECK him. All that time training came in handy as you started to beat his ass. All the boys are cheering you on (Bill will say that he’s never been prouder of you, and both Joes and Tab were cheering like they had money on you)

it takes Ron, Winters and a tipsy Nixon to pull you off the poor guy before you kill him

Ron pulls you out of the bar to cool of but you just keep your hands locked and keep walking until you get back to your room and have some fantastic rage induced sex (not mad at each other, just riled up and showing one another how much you love and care for each other)

has a really deep morning voice

and the best bed head, like he makes it look so good and like such boyfriend/husband materal

loves to stare at you when you get happy/excited, it makes him happy!

the second he realises that he can loot he anonymously leaves you gifts that he thinks you’d enjoy

it starts off simple with items like candies and treats

then it becomes more thoughtful like a nice chain or a simple ring band that won’t get in the way of your work as a medic

he absolutely loves seeing you wear or read the gifts he’s left for you, it’s like he’s there protecting you and claiming you as his but from afar, when you play with the ring on your finger when your nervous out bored during briefings it makes him so happy

is a surprisingly good singer?? doesn’t do it very often and NEVER around people (epically the men) but when it’s just you two with a moment alone he loves to sing to you while swaying gently with one hand on your waist and one holding yours

Loves to sing ‘I’ll be seeing you’ by Billie Holiday

everytime he comes back from looting a house he goes “give me your hand.” and pulls out a handful of different sizes, cuts and colours of rings, gently placing each one on your finger, noting each time you say that you like an aspect of it

“I like the cut of the stone in this one, I'm just not sure of the colour though.”

Ron: *quickly grabs his notebook and scribbles something down in it before pocketing the ring*

LOVES when you play with his dog tags (especially when you are laying together post-sex), and loves the way your dog tags look when you’re bouncing on him, and they’re jingling and catching the light perfectly

i think his love languages are;

giving: gift giving and acts of service, quality time

receiving: quality time, words of affirmation and physical touch

speaking of physical touch:

he is NOT big on PDA, he prefers to keep any intimate moments like kissing just between the two of you (or occasionally quick pecks around the other officers, that causes you to blush so much he has to give you a second one. Even Dick jokes at him, “Jesus Sparky, please keep it in your pants-” “Dick I swear to God-!”)

but when you are in public is more like a gentle hand on the small of your back, brushing hair out of his face and letting your fingers linger there for a little longer than necessary, linking your pinkies together when you’re standing close enough

he also LOVES when you grab the back of his jacket/shirt or his belt loop to not get lost in a crowd, it makes him feel like you trust him

when y’all are in PRIVATE he LOVES making out

slow and gentle, just you and him, rubbing your hands along his stubble, pulling back for a moment to giggle and tell him how ticklish it is, (he promises to shave it, you tell him your like to feel it somewhere else before he does)

loves making out with you ANYWHERE but especially his office, like pushing you up onto his desk where his body fits perfectly between your legs, he can trap you between his arms and hold your hands down onto the wooden desk, loves the sense of privacy it gives you both

more than once you’ve been interrupted and you’ve had to fake bringing him some papers he needed

“Speirs- Sergeant L/N! Sorry for interrupting, I didn’t realise you had a… guest.”

“It’s alright Sir, they were just dropping off some paperwork.” Winters is SO EMBARRASSED, but not nearly as much as you are when Nixon points out

“You might wanna fix your hair before you go anywhere else Sergeant.” with a shit eating grin on his face.

your face goes red before you look at Ron guilty, he just smirks back at you causing you to blush an even deeper shade of red.

carries around pictures of you in his OD jacket pocket!!!!! they’re in a tin so they don’t get ruined, he loves to just flip through them and stare when you are a part from each other

there’s a few photos of the two of you when you finally had weekend passes and you went to Paris. There's one of you and him both in your uniforms standing together, his arms wrapped around you as you're mid laugh and he’s looking down at you with eyes like you hung the moon.

You’ve got one really good one you put on your bedside table when you get back, it’s Ron in regular clothes smiling directly into the camera blowing smoke out of his mouth, it’s very domestic and handsome. The first time he sees it he’s all “oh come on you wanna keep that one? It’s so bad-" "I think you look beautiful and handsome, like a leading man.” He sees how you stare at that photo and decides ‘maybe it’s not so bad after all’

Another is of you both in regular civilian clothes, it’s a strip of photo booth pictures, that get progressively more steamy. The first one is just you two looking at each other, you’re sitting on his lap and cradling his face. the second one is you both kissing, it’s sweet (and later he puts that one in his wallet when you get home). Third photo is, you both, still kissing but now your hands are gripping his shirt and his hands are all in your hair (that way that Tab runs his hands through that girl's hair in Holland, you know the gif). the final one in the strip is of him staining at you with loving eyes, having just pulled back from a kiss- hands still in your hair- but you’re staring directly into the camera with this look on your face that he loves seeing, you’re rapidly unbuttoning your shirt

nsfw:

in that tin of photos there are more than a few risqué and sexual ones. You rented a camera to take photos while in Paris and when you finally get the developed images sent to you at the front you and Ron open them and the first photo is of you just sitting against the headboard of the hotel room bed, hugging a pillow against your naked body with the sheets bunched up around your feet, your hair is a controlled beautiful mess and you’re staring directly into the camera with half lidded eyes, (obviously just having settled down enough the push yourself upright). Ron’s breath hitches and he grabs it, immediately placing it in the tin with other photos of you both.

photos of you both mid sex

you have one that you took while riding him, he’s laying down with his head thrown back and his mouth partially open and his eyes are closed and he just looks wrecked. you pocket that one just as quickly as he pocketed yours.

he has one of you doing it in front of a mirror, he’s behind you taking the photos and your head is thrown back and your back is arched. the photo is slightly blurred because of the movement while he was taking it but he love it

the first time you had sex together was when you were back in civilization for a US Open show and we’re billeted on the same block.

he is so gentle that first time and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he slides into you.

“oh fuuuuuck, god-“ he hisses through his teeth to keep himself quiet

says that he’s quiet in bed but occasionally after a long day (or if he’s drunk) will groan and moan, taking deep breaths so loud like a virgin trying not to cum to quickly

Aims to please!!!!!! love going down on you especially when he either needs to let go for a while (lets you ride his face), or if he gets jealous and wants to make sure you know that he’s the only one who can make you feel like that.

if you have a vagina he pushes your legs up by the backs of your thighs so you’re completely exposed and fucking goes at it, not stopping until you either; start crying, cum so many times you lose count, squirt or safe-word him. will push your hands away when

you try to grab his hair to either push him away or bring him closer.

if you have a penis he loves sitting you down on a chair or the edge of a bed and holding you down by your thighs so you can’t buck up into his mouth. gets you there then holds tight at your base so you cant cum/pulls back at the last second to ruin it. will dig his short nails into your thighs when you won’t stop moving.

pull his hair please

would never say it but loves when you call him by his rank

you accidentally said it one time when you were on leave and you didn’t come out of the room all day. you had a reservation for dinner at 5 and when that time rolled around you were letting in the bed shaking, coming down from the best orgasm of your life. you tried to get up and have a shower but ended up going twice more around the room and twice in the shower, every time finishing with a cry of “Lieutenant Speirs!”, they got him to just go harder. you showed up for your 5pm reservation at 8:30, still shaking slightly. Ron was a smug s.o.b through all of dinner.

fucked👏🏻you👏🏻on👏🏻his👏🏻desk👏🏻

had his hand covering your mouth to keep you from screaming so loud everyone could hear you

at one point someone comes and knocks on his door, he slows but doesn’t stop rocking into you as he speaks to them through the door, his hand covering your mouth and you stare at him with wide eyes, as he’s speaking to the poor person on the other side of the door he kisses and nips and sucks at your neck, basically he’s torturing you and expects you to make zero noise

you let out a single squeak and he freezes, glaring at you, you start shaking your head trying to apologize but his hand is still over your mouth

“i’ll come back later sir…”

the SECOND that poor guy is gone Ron tightens his hand on your mouth and goes crazy, rubbing you with his one hand, while moving in and out and fucking whispering into your ear practically degrading you for making so much noise while he’s fucking you and someone is on the other side of the door (this man makes me have many thoughts)

he loves to look up at you while going down on you, the same as earlier, he’s looking up at you like you hung the moon and the stars and you can barely look at him because the look in his eyes is just too much for your brain to process through all the stimulation

when he’s jealous or you’re both being rougher he loves to make you look him in his eyes, staring at him as he makes you feel so good and his eyes flutter closed because he’s getting just as much if not more pleasure from this than you are

will finger you under any table, does not matter who is sitting with you

(possibly more than) once Ron has been fingering you under the table and Lewis and Dick know exactly what’s going on and one of them has to fake feeling sick because they know if they don’t leave now yall are gonna end up fucking on the table and they don’t want to see that

once you two are married he LOVES and i means LOVES to finger you and lick your cum off of his ring finger with the wedding band still on it, it’s so possessive and makes him so turned on

you’re the only person who can top him

loves when you take control, especially when you ride him and pull his hair, grab him by the face to make him look at you and are overall rough with him (also loved when you make him cum before you and you just sit with him twitching inside you while he comes down until he can go again because i “I didn’t finish, what did i say was going to happen if you came before I got to?”

lazy, beautiful morning sex in with a warm breeze coming through the windows

defo has fucked you in the back garden; both on the grass (you were bent over on the ground gardening and he just couldn’t help himself because “you know how i feel when you wear those bottoms-“), and him sitting on the wicker seating set with the comfortable cushions you have in the back with you lazily riding him, not really thrusting and jumping as much as just lazily rolling your hips together

loves clothed sex; both of you being clothed (hiumping each other over pants or him pulling your dress/skirt up to push against your underwear), or only one of you being clothed (he loves the way it looks when he’s jumping against your covered ass and you love the way the front of his pants look when you get them wet by rocking against him)

not necessarily risky when it comes to sex but has a bit of a kink for almost getting caught, (would never want you two to get actually caught since he’s “the only one allowed to see you like this”)

you guys have fucked in ever room in your house, just to run through a couple places:

living room: couch, every chair, floor (rug)

kitchen: kitchen table, counter (both over and on top of it), dining room table

bedroom: bed, chair, over the and on top of the dresser, against the door, against ye window (faces the backyard)

bathrooms: bathtub, shower, lid closed (ya nasty) sitting on the toilet, against the door, tiled floor and the bath mat

office: desk (over it, on top of it, on the edge of it, eating you out/sucking him off leaning against the table/sitting on the edge of the chair), sitting on his lap in the chair, against the bookshelf, window nook, the arm chair

garage: in the car, on the hood of the car, against the door during parties, against the wall (the concrete causing you to arch your back from the cold rough texture)

closets (upstairs ones while guests are over and asking “where tf are our hosts?”

okay that’s my short list of places lmaooo

idc what parts you have Ron has a breeding kink

you guys love to cockwarm while reading it while one of you is doing work

likes to kiss you while you’re having sex but when you’re in control prefers when you bite and nip at him

has a slight choking kink

within the first 2 times you guys have sex he knows a) exactly what to do to get you going and b) where the most sensitive parts of your body are and WILL use that against you every chance he gets

this man whines when he gets too sensitive, is really calm and comfortable, or when you’re topping him and calling him nicknames

has a choking kink (on either of you)

he’s very vocal with grunts and either praise or degrading you, also moans the first time he’s in you, every time

calls you: baby, sweetheart, perfect, (when more aggressive): cocksleeveve, slut, good boy/girl

will call you his personal medic/nurse/doctor

you call him: baby, lovey, good/perfect boy, daddy occasionally, captain speirs (which will get him to go to a whole other level)

you two have done some sexy medic/patient role play before both during the war and after (mayhaps a little morphine was involved, which was very hard to explain to Gene why you were down a bottle suddenly)

overstimulate each other

loves to watch you touch yourself, the way your body moves is like crack to him

you do this both when you’re trying to torture him (he’s tired to the headboard or a chair) or as a mutual masturbation thing

he is the perfect size, rides that sweet line between “ouch that’s too big” and “a slight stretch” where you tend to need a second when he sinks in for the first time but the stretch is always welcome

you both love when you give him head and when you pull back you’re connected to him with spit and cum

yall definitely had secret foxhole rendezvous (this is where his ‘hand over your mouth to keep you quiet’ kink came from)

after your first time together (on the wonderful Paris leave), you look over at him with watery eyes and just say “i love you so much.” he doesn’t hesitate with a “i love you more than anything.”

that instigates the softest second round of just sweet, loving kisses and quiet “i love you”’s in between and when you finish

keeps asking you to wear your PT clothes (post war) because he can’t help but watch hot your body and muscles move under the tight shirt and short shorts

after weeks of him asking you surprise him by coming back from a light run in those clothes and he knows that it’s on

after some hot ass sex you ask him if he’ll wear his “your back and muscles look great in that shirt and your ass looks incredible in those shorts.”

within the week he pulls the same scenario of going out for a light run in that outfit and you jump his fucking bones

he likes it why you try to cover your moans and whines by biting your lip or with your hand or in a pillow but you just can’t help it and become so loud

you both like when the other gets watery eyes and starts getting all soft and sensitive and their eyes get wide and submissive

like to talk to you during sex, “you’re doing so good for me-“ “fuck you’re feel good baby-“, “you krio doing that i won’t last long-“, “you look so good when you ride me baby, oh fu—“

when he gets really close after a few rounds and is overstimulated and is almost crying (consensually) he pants and gasps and finishes with a cry and maybe a sob but he feels so good-

loves when you feel too much and you just sort of space out for a second or go silent because your brain just short circuits

maybe you squirt once and tried to do it for a whole night after that

once did it so much that he made you dehydrated (can that even happen? idk, but now it can.)

y’all have aftercare DOWN

you know exactly what the other needs after there are dom/sub roles in play or after just regular (incredible as usual) sex

cleaning each other in the shower or bath gentle, kissing so softly of sometimes just being near each other but not touching because you’re both so sensitive

tea and snacks in bed cuddled up after (or any food and hydration really)

if one of you is particularly tired after, the other reads to them while running their hair through their hair until the person on their lap/shoulder/chest fall asleep

aggressive angry sex (you’re never scared the other is going to hurt each other because you know that you’re never angry at each other (just something/someone else) and that you just need to get all of the aggression and energy out and maybe feel more in control of the world for a bit

talks you through it

“that feel good sweetheart? tell me how good it feels.”

“what’s wrong baby, you gonna cum for me again?”

“oh you just feel so good you can’t even think anymore! so drunk on my cock aren’t you sweetheart!”

yell tease each other like it’s your job

that could mean verbally teasing each other or edging each other, or giving the other the gentlest touches and brushes, just barely touching the other for them to get anything other than a shiver of pleasure

slow dancing that just turned to grinding

This man makes me have thoughts I should not have, so I will stop here <3

#ronald speirs x reader #band of brothers #ron speirs x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #ron speirs #ronald speirs #dano speaks #headcannons

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lostloveletters · 7 months

Text

You Can’t Start a Fire Without a Spark (Ron Speirs x Reader)

Summary: Night falls in Bavaria to victorious revelry, and at the goading of your friends, the lust you've been kindling in secret suddenly burns hot and wild to the touch.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used besides the slightest bit of backstory. Inspired by several Bruce Springsteen songs. This is based on the fictional portrayals in the HBO miniseries and not the real individuals. (Also, hi I’m Battie! This is my first Band of Brothers fic despite being a fan of the miniseries since 2016. Let me know what you think🖤) Do not interact if you’re under 18, are a terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Inherent power imbalance. Explicit content involving vaginal fingering and unprotected sex.

You weren’t sure how six of you managed to squeeze into a booth together in the Bavarian bar, elbow-to-elbow as you drank beer and shouted over each other. Sitting squished against Talbert, who was squished against Malarkey, one of your legs wasn’t even in the booth. On the other side of the table, Babe, Perconte, and Luz were in the same situation.

Victory in Europe had just been declared. The celebratory feeling filled your lungs with each breath despite the cloud of cigarette smoke that hung over the bar. With the war in Japan still raging on, the likelihood of those without enough points having to endure another drop remained up in the air. One night of fun wouldn’t hurt anybody. No one could say you hadn’t earned it.

Glancing around at your friends, the guys you lived and would’ve died for—even after the war ended, if you were being honest with yourself. You couldn’t imagine being closer with anyone else. Growing up without much of a family, passed around homes of distant relatives and near strangers until you had enough and ventured out on your own as a teen, you’d never had such strong connections before. The only reason you were even allowed to work so closely with Easy Company, was the absence of any next-of-kin, no one to cause a fuss if something went wrong while you were overseas. You were non-combat detail, of course, typing and running errands as needed, but more often than was likely ideal, you found yourself somewhere on the line with the medic training you’d gotten.

You hadn’t been at Toccoa with them, only meeting most of the guys just before D-Day. After Operation Market Garden’s failure in Holland, they came around to you upon the return to Aldbourne, least surprising of whom was Talbert, ever so kindly taking you under his wing when he was recovering from being accidentally stabbed by Smith. The two of you became close friends, and though you heard of his exploits with women in just about every city the company passed through, he seemed hellbent on being your wingman, trying to set you up with at least half a dozen members of Easy to little success.

With the taste of sweet victory and bold German beer on everyone’s lips, declarations of what and who everyone would ideally do to celebrate poured from your friends with little prompting. Knowing you well enough at that point, Tab took the opportunity to get you in on the conversation, the light mood and buzz in your system leaving you more loose-lipped than usual.

“Alright, our company’s eligible bachelorette,” Tab said, conspiratorial mirth in his voice. “Fraternization rules to the dust, which of Easy’s officers would you do your celebrating with?”

Your lips twitched, failing to suppress your smile as your drinking buddies awaited your answer. “Speirs.”

Finishing off the rest of your beer, you stifled your amusement at the clamor that ensued. Undoubtedly the least expected answer, part of Tab’s failure to secure a date for you among his comrades was your infatuation with the legendary captain—closely guarded, until you had a beer or two in you, apparently.

“Speirs?” Babe repeated incredulously.

“No way,” Malarkey said, shaking his head. “No fucking way.”

“They need to get you to one of those headshrinkers,” Perconte said.

“Hold on a minute,” Tab said with an amused smile, trying to reign in the chaos. “Let’s hear her out.”

“You wanna know why?” you asked.

Ever since Speirs stuck with Easy Company after Bastogne, you worked closely with him as you did the other officers, taking notes and keeping memos for them. Speirs often requisitioned you to type up reports for him, finding it easier to dictate what he wanted written to you than typing them himself. Sometimes you found his attention drifting off when it was a more mundane report, his words trailing away while he looked at you, typically slouched on a chair or couch at the end of a long day. You would let yourself take him in, hoping the perceptive man wouldn’t notice the way your eyes trailed up his long, outstretched legs to his disheveled hair.

He provided the most attention to battlefield exploits, and at times you couldn’t keep up with how fast he was speaking or would find yourself a bit startled by some of the gruesome details he relayed. You’d heard the rumors about him. Everyone had. But a disgustingly repressed part of you that’d emerged at some point during the war was secretly thrilled by them, almost hoping they were true.

“Well, you owe us that much,” Luz said.

“I owe you all jack and shit.”

“What if I buy you another drink?”

“I think I’m gonna need another one after hearing this,” Babe muttered.

“Let’s see, why would I sleep with Captain Speirs,” you said, playfully tapping your chin in faux thought. “For starters, he’s fine as hell, which should be reason enough. I like that he’s a no-nonsense kinda guy. He has this intensity that I think is really sexy.”

The cacophony of bewilderment and objection that filled the booth met its slow death when the occupant of the booth behind yours got up. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry when you saw it was Speirs.

He made his way out of the pub, your light mood with him.

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “Do you think he heard?”

“No way he didn’t,” Malarkey said.

“Fuck, I need to do something before I get demoted or transferred or something.”

Tab grinned. “Well, if you’re not walking straight tomorrow, we’ll know you did something.”

“Shut up, jerk!” you hissed. “I’m in this mess because of you.”

He gave you a mocking salute.

You flipped him off as you got up from the table, running after your CO who more than likely overheard you expressing to your buddies that you’d enthusiastically have sex with him. Of course it happened the one time you actually joined in on their vulgarity.

Unlike his silent stride, your boots pounded against the pavement, announcing your approach to him.

He turned around abruptly, and you nearly fell over your own feet as you stopped in your tracks.

His intense gaze on you felt like being at the end of his rifle’s sight. “Are you drunk, Y/L/N?”

“No—no, sir.”

“Good. I could use your help with a report.”

You stared at him blankly. A report. At ten o’clock at night. “Of course, sir. Anything you need.”

The corners of his lips upturned for a split second. “I’m sure.” Fuck. He’d definitely heard you.

The two of you started off down the street, toward a more residential area wherein officers had requisitioned houses for the US Army’s use for the foreseeable future. Almost dreamily picturesque, tree branches waved at you in the cool night breeze, the surrounding mountains illuminated by the bright fullness of the moon. From the soft glow of street lamps lighting your way, something you’d previously taken for granted, you tried not to stare at him. In the warm glow of that balmy summer evening, however, he looked almost too good to be true. Hair slightly unkempt, the whisper of stubble along his jaw and cheeks, surely his face would feel like heaven between your thighs.

Soldiers in all states of drunkenness ambled up and down either side of the street, hollering and singing in carefree celebration. Speirs placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you past a group of men who could hardly walk straight. One of them walked right into you, his head nearly colliding with yours.

“Fuck,” the young soldier grumbled under his breath, shooting you a dirty look for being in his way.

Speirs wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you aside to stand in front of you. “Private,” he snapped, staring down the young man who looked like he was about to shit himself. “I advise you get yourself together and watch where you’re going.”

“Yes, sir—Captain Speirs, sir,” he said, turning his attention to you. “Sorry, ma’am.”

You nodded silently, and the private ran off after his buddies.

Speirs turned to you, his hands on your shoulders as his intense gaze searched your face for any sign of injury.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

In Hagenau, one of the replacements had been pestering you the moment he laid eyes on you. At first, you humored him, supposing he needed a friend, as the men who’d been through Normandy and Bastogne were understandably closed-off and tight knit. Thought the new guys were too green, too eager to do something stupid and get someone killed in pursuit of battlefield glory that was too haunting to exist.

Then he started getting handsy, not enough to be outright inappropriate, but enough to make you uncomfortable. You weren’t sure what possessed you to mention it to Speirs when he’d asked you how you were doing one afternoon. His brow furrowed, he gave you a silent nod in response. The replacement had been transferred elsewhere the following day.

Though Speirs stared right at you, there was something far away in his eyes as he squeezed your shoulders.

“I’m fine, sir,” you repeated. “I promise.”

“Hmm? Oh, right,” he said softly.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, not bothering to offer you one. You were in the minority of people who didn’t smoke, allowing you to leverage the packs in your rations to trade amongst the men. As time went on, you’d leave them on top of your finished reports for Speirs, especially if they were Luckys. You watched silently as he lit the cigarette in his mouth, a shining silver lighter in his hand. His eyes drifted from the flame back to you, though you noticed the slightest spark behind them.

The rest of the walk was uneventful until you reached the house. A few stragglers hung around on the street outside, their voices becoming the slightest bit more hushed as they watched you follow Speirs inside. By the time the front door shut, they’d already begun speculating why the two of you were going to his place so late. With the way the men spread gossip, you could hazard a guess as to what the tale would morph into by the morning. You silently bemoaned the prospect of the night hardly being as interesting as whatever they conjured up.

Following him upstairs, the makeshift office seemed especially cramped with the boxes and papers that were haphazardly spread around the place. It’d probably take weeks to sift through it all, especially since a glance at one of the files appeared to be in German. Getting help wouldn’t be the issue, but rather the fact that none of the members of Easy who knew German were particularly inclined toward office work, becoming restless after an hour or so.

A problem for another time, however. Glancing at the clock, it was nearly half past ten, and you were almost inclined to ask Speirs about coffee, depending on how long he expected the report to take. You sat down at the desk, ready to begin typing the date when you noticed the ink was out.

“Is there any typewriter ribbon around, sir?” you asked.

He nodded. “Should be in one of the drawers.”

You opened the drawer immediately to your right, finding a mess of stationary that had clearly been shoved in carelessly. Or maybe someone had taken something out of it in a hurry. Digging through it, you came up empty, and moved onto the drawer below it. No dice. The one to your left didn’t have typewriter ribbon either, at least, you would have been surprised to find it tucked in with the loot that nearly filled the thing to the brim–shining silverware, glistening jewelry, and trinkets that someone with a keener eye than you had clearly decided were valuable enough to keep.

His extensive looting was an open secret, but a glimpse of this treasure trove was a shock to the system. So entranced by the contents of the drawer, you didn’t hear him walk up beside you until his shadow fell over the necklaces and rings you silently coveted.

He gave you a sly smile, wolfish in the dim lighting. “Haven’t had much of a chance to organize those.”

“They’re beautiful,” you whispered in awe, gingerly touching a pearl necklace.

“Try them on.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go ahead.”

You picked up the string of pearls, a nervousness washing over you at holding something so valuable, something of his. Walking over to the window, the nearest reflective surface you could find, you pulled the necklace on, garish against your uniform. You tried shaking off the odd feeling of playing dress-up in front of your commanding officer, a girlish whim he inexplicably allowed you to indulge in. His expression was unreadable when you turned around for him.

“They suit you,” he finally said, brushing his fingers against the pearls, slowly drifting lower to the exposed skin of your decollete. “Keep them.”

It wasn’t uncommon for him to bring you small gifts every now and then—typewriter ribbon, fountain pens, chocolate, trinkets. You knew better than to question where he got them, as he seemed to give them to you at the perfect moment. The stationary supplies when you were running low on them, chocolate and trinkets when you were feeling down. At times they’d be accompanied by notes from him. Usually short, but so sincere you treasured them more than the gifts. Whenever you’d try to thank him, he’d just shrug, almost dismissing the gesture.

This time, feeling bold in the cover of night, you pressed your lips to his cheek, uttering a quiet “thank you.”

He didn’t react. Disappointed, you moved to sit back down at the desk until he grabbed your arm, gently pulling you back to him.

“Were you telling the truth?” he asked, his voice a husky, demanding whisper. “Back at the bar.”

“Yes.”

“So if I said I’ve wanted you in a bad way since Bastogne?”

You kissed him, an explosion of warmth in your chest as you tangled your fingers in his hair. He settled his hands on your hips, squeezing them with a tenderness that betrayed his longing. Parting your lips for him, you allowed him to deepen the kiss, wanting to see how far he’d take it.

Almost overwhelmed by his gentle intensity, you pulled away from his lips, though his mouth chased yours, capturing yet another kiss from you.

“Show me how you want me,” you pleaded with desperate kisses to his face, trailing down to his throat where you could feel the way he groaned in pleasure at your touch.

“In my room,” he managed to say. “I wanna lay you on the bed and–”

“Anything, anything you want, Ron.”

His lips slightly blushed from the ferocity of your kiss, he parted his mouth as if to speak, but instead took your hand firmly in his.

He led you straight down the nondescript hallway that nevertheless left you feeling turned around, dizzied by your desire for him. A door opened, and you were promptly pulled inside the room. The click of the lock behind you sent a slight shiver down your spine.

Pulled into his arms again, you lost yourself in his fervent kiss, until you reached down, palming his hardening cock through his pants. He moaned into your mouth, the sound only exacerbating the heat between your thighs, the ache inside of you that up until that point had been abated by your fingers, always rushed, never satisfying the urge to be filled–by him, preferably. From the way he felt beneath your hand, he could do all of that and more.

And after the months of silently, almost guiltily lusting after him like a nun, he wanted you too. The ego boost emboldened you. “Did you ever think about me when you were alone?” you asked, giving his bulge a gentle squeeze.

“Yes–fuck,” he groaned.

“Like what?”

“Besides keeping me warm in that goddamn forest? This–I thought of this,” he murmured against your lips. “But I didn’t let myself think of a future with you. I couldn’t have survived if I did.”

“And now?”

“I want everything you’ll give me, sweetheart.”

“Lucky you, that’s exactly what I wanna give.”

He smiled slightly, his hands hastily working to unbutton your shirt. “Lucky–except you’re wearing too many clothes.”

You reached for the pearls, about to take them off when he caught your wrist in his hand.

“Leave them on.” His voice was steady, authoritative, the closest he sounded to Speirs since he scolded the private who walked into you earlier.

Weak in the knees, you acquiesced to the one and only order your captain would give you that night. You otherwise undressed, your uniform in a pile at your feet. Your bra and panties were simple, certainly not the sexy lingerie you’d fantasized about seducing Ron in, but his eyes blazed as if your body were hugged by an inviting satin set. A burst of confidence rushed through you, and you held his gaze as you discarded your bra and panties.

You laid back on the bed as he undressed, watching intently until he was down to nothing more than his underwear, his hard cock straining against the fabric. He pulled them off, and you sucked in a breath at how big he was. Erect, at attention for you, all the more intimidating as he approached, joining you on the bed. His daring in the line of fire sure as hell wasn’t compensating for anything.

He straddled your hips, his eyes taking in your naked form with a primal intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. He reached down, two of his fingers circling your clit, your body trembled beneath his touch. By the way he studied how your face contorted in pleasure as a foreign-sounding moan rose from deep in your chest, you could tell it was payback for your teasing him just minutes before.

His fingers shifted, slipping inside your wet core with ease. He pumped them in and out at a steady pace that made your stomach tighten and toes curl, but slowly bringing you closer to orgasm. You bucked your hips when he curled his fingers inside of you, blood rushing in your ears so loud that you could hardly hear the obscene sounds coming from your pussy. A lump formed in your throat, one that made you nearly howl in frustration.

“Who got you this worked up, sweetheart?” he asked, nipping the shell of your ear.

A whimper. “You.”

“What was that?”

“You.” Through a haze of lust-soaked desperation, you took his face in your hands. “Don’t make me beg, Sparky. It’s always been you.”

He pulled his hand from between your legs, and you nearly whined until he slid his length inside your pussy, your walls clenching around his cock. You braced yourself on his shoulder blades, your nails doing a number on him as you dug them into his taut skin while he thrust into you. Carefully at first, almost frustratingly so, until you cried, “More.”

He was bigger than you were used to, even before the war, but the slight discomfort was drowned out by the way his steady, deep thrusts filled you. He ducked his head down, taking one of your breasts in his mouth, his hand groping the other. Sucking on your breast, his teeth grazed your nipple, the hint of pain complimenting the pleasure. Your climax was so close you could see it if you closed your eyes, raw and vulnerable.

“Ron, I’m so close,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”

He lifted his head, nodding. “Where should I–”

“Inside–fuck–I want you to cum inside me.”

And he did, with an erratic thrust that pushed him deeper inside you still. You kissed him as your pussy milked his cock, lifting your hips to grind against him for the slightest bit of friction to your clit. You threw your head back as you came, an obscene moan escaping your lips as pleasure spread across your body, white-hot like a star in supernova.

His name fell from your lips, laced with curses, over and over like a vulgar prayer. He pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your decollete, his lips brushing the pearls that stuck to your sweat-sheened skin until he shuddered, bottoming out in you.

He pulled out slowly, his toned chest heaving before he collapsed next to you. Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes, silently offering you one. You declined, and he placed one between his lips, using a nearby match to light it before taking you in his arms. You settled comfortably against his chest, closing your eyes for a few moments.

“So, what about that report?” you asked slyly when you’d finally caught your breath.

His quiet laughter rumbled in his chest, and he took a drag from his cigarette, his gaze betraying his adoration as he looked at you. “I might need your help again tomorrow night."

Knowing it was too risky for you to spend the night, he reluctantly let you leave around three in the morning, a slight pout on his face as you took off the pearl necklace and tucked it into your pocket. You left him with a passionate parting kiss, one that he used to nearly convince you to stay just a little bit longer until you quietly promised you’d report to him first thing.

The streets were mostly deserted except for the men on patrol. You kept your head down, booking it back to where you were quartered, hoping your arrival wouldn’t wake anyone up, or at least raise any questions.

Just your luck, you ran right into Tab, a shit-eating grin on his face at your disheveled appearance. “I knew it."

#ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #hbo war #hbo war fanfic

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bloodstainedsaint · 5 months

Text

noises in the bedroom with ron, lew, lieb, luz, and shifty

word count: 770+

warnings: reader has female genitalia, degradation (only in ron's), praise, teasing, i call nixon a whore for the reader (it's true)

notes: i couldn't include babe in this one cause i just decided that i would write for him (and therefore i must do Research) but hope you guys enjoy anyway !!

ronald speirs

big on praise-degradation, like 50/50 on it

unless you managed to really set him off (ex; make him jealous on purpose, tease him, be a brat, etc.), then don't expect very many kind words

he can be so mean and unfair when he wants to, but by the end of it he’s worshiping you like you're a deity

he’ll call you a slut but his slut, yk?

could not care less about who hears — no one's gonna confront him about it anyway with his reputation, and they're definitely not coming up to you either since they know ron is going to be death glaring them the whole time

he groans and grunts huskily + openly and encourages you to not cover up/muffle your sounds with your hand

(quickies are, of course, the exception since that would be unsafe, and if higher-ups are around, obviously he's about to care; in any other situation though, no one is safe from hearing the two of you)

lewis nixon

somehow his moans are louder than yours???

LIKE that's not a bad thing, it just means he's enjoying it just as much as you but he's just so vocal about it, saying your name or princess, doll, sweetheart like his life depended on it

(he's such a whore for you, especially when he goes down on you. you're gonna be feeling the vibrations of his groans bc omg is he obsessed with eating you out…but that's another story)

this is mostly because he also does not care who hears (same exceptions as ron). i imagine dick having to come talk to you all flustered, his face matching his hair and his eyes cast to the ground, asking you guys to keep it down

…nixon definitely didn't get any play for two weeks after that

despite being the #1 slut for you, he still manages to tease you, saying things like, “tell me how bad you want it.” (as if he doesn't want it just as bad)

joseph liebgott

he's probably the biggest pottymouth out of the five

anything he does is followed up by a hoarse “fuck, doll” or “shit, (y/n)”

he's trying to cover up the fact that he's a bit of a whiner/panter

he’ll kiss marks onto and around your breasts to muffle the sound of his moans

definitely says “yeah, you like that?” or “that feel good, baby?” during foreplay, smirking down at you while you’re begging for more (he's a little cocky with it)

becomes soft during and afterwards; he's scared to be vulnerable but he can't help telling you how pretty you look, how good you feel, and how much he loves you

will probably confess some of these things in german so he's not as vulnerable, but you still get the gist either way (and if you do understand german, he's screwed)

george luz

honestly he's just kind of unserious, like this man is giggling he's so happy to be with you (and his laughter and smile are infectious so now you're laughing too and telling him to shut up)

he’ll praise you with jokes, telling you you're prettier than any pinup model

“rita doesn't have anything on you, beautiful.” cue you rolling your eyes with a smile and telling him he’s cheesy

he's a little bit of a cusser too (especially when you play with his hair), not to the level of lieb though

“damn, (y/n), i'm lucky you're all mine.”

eventually the jokes and goofiness dissolve into him straight up telling you how good you feel around him and that you're especially gorgeous like this

+ him confessing his love for you when he's still catching his breath

“(y/n), have i ever told you how much i love you?”

“maybe 100 times today, george”

“oh so not enough then” you kiss him before he can remind you again

shifty powers

loves to praise you (and be praised honestly)

like he swears up and down that you're the most perfect girl alive

he can't believe that you're his and he's yours

kind of shy about his moans but he can't stop himself/hide them well enough because he moans at the slightest touch (he's so in love with you)

whimpers when you say he's making you feel good and “don't stop”

he's definitely asking if you're sure about anything and everything, reminding you that you don't have to go through with this if you don't absolutely want to

you just have to be like “darrell c. powers, please just take me” and lord will he oblige you with the brightest goddamn smile on his face

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101, @samwinchesterslostshoe

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blurredcolour · 5 months

Text

In The Bleak Mid-Winter

[One-shot]

Ronald Speirs x Nurse!Female Reader

No good deed goes unpunished, but your reassignment brings with it an unexpected reward.

Warnings: Language, Weapons, Canon Typical Violence, Smoking, Treatment of Wounds, Medical Procedures, Hospital Settings, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex - m/f receiving, fingering, cum eating] - 18+ ONLY

Author’s Note: This was written entirely on my phone as my laptop is in for emergency repairs - I hated the experience, and apologize if there are any formatting issues or a surplus of typos. Also, I made some distinct narrative choices in writing this but I won’t burden you with them up front. They’re in the post-script if you’re interested! This is a work of fiction based off the actors’ portrayal in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life persons mentioned within.

Word Count: 6171

————————————-

December 29, 1944 - Bastogne

“Fifty surgeries in two days with only three deaths. It is nothing short of a miracle. I’m halfway through a report recommending you all for a medal....and then I come to find out you landed in the middle of an encircled town on an unpiloted glider, through all manner of artillery fire, with a goddamn woman?! A woman!”

Your bleary eyes focused on the lit end of the cigarette pinched between the index and middle finger of your right hand, the icy caress of the north wind howling between the tent and the garage outside the Bastogne barracks one of the only things keeping you awake. Weary from nearly forty-eight hours of surgery, it would have been difficult to stay awake under normal circumstances, but the mortification you felt as General McAuliffe screamed at Major Dorward behind thin walls of canvas was certainly helping keep you on your aching feet in the ankle deep snow.

Bundled tightly in your great coat, collar turned up against the wind, face buried into the olive drab scarf around your neck, helmet protecting your head, the only bit of exposed skin was that hand you were straining to focus on. The other was deep inside your pocket, balled into a fist. You were vaguely aware of various people darting through the barracks yard behind you, making their way to and fro, loading vehicles, delivering men to the now-central clearing station since the bombing of the cathedral the day before your arrival. Covered as you were, you were barely indistinguishable from an ordinary soldier, yet the General had managed to find out your secret nonetheless.

“I have every faith that she can handle herself out here sir, there was no more qualified surgical assistant to accompany us.”

“But she is not a surgical assistant, Major, is she?! She’s just a nurse! A nurse whose life you endangered by sneaking her aboard that glider! I ought to have you court martialed!!!”

The General did have a point, hidden though it was within the avalanche of vitriol he was sending the Major’s way. You were in fact no more than a surgical nurse - assistants were enlisted men. But during your third or fourth surgery with the Major, right after D-Day, a brand new surgical assistant had been assigned to the operating room and not five minutes in had fainted to the floor.

With the patient in a life threatening position you had stepped forward to fill in the gap and ensure no impact to care or outcome. It had been the start of a very effective working relationship as the 12th Evacuation Hospital made its way across France behind the advancing American army.

Thus when Major Dorward had volunteered for this assignment, and asked if you would consider joining him, your only hesitation was born of the concern for the hell you two might catch. The hell he was in the very midst of catching right now.

You hissed at the sudden pain as the lit end of the cigarette met your flesh and quickly flicked it into the snow, not having taken one puff. When General Nuts himself had stormed into the tent, eyes blazing, the Major had sent you outside in the early dawn light with the lit cigarette and his rifle for protection. It had rather felt like you were your own firing squad, though the Major was most certainly the one under fire at the moment.

The creak of boots in the nearby snow, much closer than all those that had passed by before, made you jump slightly. You turned quickly to see an exhausted soldier, eyes bleached a pale grey in the now-brilliant morning sunshine. He looked cold, and exhausted, as all the men you’d run into here did. His face was handsome, though, lashes luxuriously long for a man carrying a Thompson submachine gun. He held out a pack of cigarettes to you, offering you a new one to replace that which you’d mistakenly allowed to burn out and you shook your head before extracting your face from its position nestled deep within your scarf.

“I don’t actually smoke, please don’t waste any of your cigarettes on me, soldier.” You smiled weakly, watching as his eyes widened a fraction before the General’s voice somehow rose even further in volume to respond to something the Major had said.

“I don’t give two shits if she can transplant heads, the risks involved were unacceptable, Major, and believe me you have not heard the last of this! Your surgical record over the last two days has been impressive, but this was utterly reckless!”

The soldier’s eyes flicked to the tent then back to you as everything surely came together in his mind and you looked down at the outline of yourcombat boots buried in the snow, wondering if it was too much to ask for the ground to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. You heard the tent flap flutter and tensed in anticipation of the General’s departure, but instead a gunshot rang out from across the clearing beyond the barracks, the snow scattering at your feet.

Strong arms yanked around your waist and pulled you back behind the shelter of the tent and the pair of you quickly lay flat in the snow, unmoving, barely breathing. The harassment from the enemy had been almost constant from the moment the glider had entered occupied air space and that, combined with any and all abilities you might possess being questioned by the General simply because of your gender, had you feeling rather enraged.

Pulling Major Dorward’s rifle from your shoulder, you crawled on your elbows to cautiously peer around the corner of the tent across the meadow and into the tree line beyond. Nothing moved. Years spent stalking deer at your father’s side had taught you patience, and how to aim the rifle in your hands. It seemed the former would not be required as a soldier came blithely walking out of the garage-turned-operating theatre completely unaware that there was a sniper.

The soldier at your side gestured at him violently - you could feel the movement of his body where his hip was still pressed against your leg, but it went unnoticed. Another shot rang out.

“Holy shit!” The man wailed as he darted back inside, a shower of brick dust audibly hitting the snow somewhere to your rear. The sniper was clearly lacking in talent, but you were focused on the movement in the coniferous tree to your two o’clock.

Exhaling slowly you squeezed the trigger and there was a hoarse shout followed by the sound of a body tumbling through cracking branches and ending in a sickening thud.

“Trying to kill my goddamn patients.” You muttered bitterly under your breath and carefully sat up, looking back to the soldier as he exhaled slowly.

He was eyeing you, expression intense and inscrutable, but your gaze was drawn to the gap at the collar of his ODs where you could see fresh blood oozing from a poorly bandaged wound at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, staining his wool shirt just below below his silver 1st Lieutenant’s insignia.

“You’re bleeding, Lieutenant.” You said quickly, pushing on his hip to encourage him to roll over so you might kneel at his side for a better look, pleased when he immediately complied.

You laid the rifle in the snow next to him and pulled the bandages away, frowning deeply to see lingering splinters of wood in the wound. As you carefully probed at them he hissed and you tensed, quickly apologizing.

“It’s nothing, ma’am, I’m fine.”

The tent flap opening and closing followed by heavy footfalls in the snow signalled the arrival of General McAuliffe on the scene.

“Everything alright, Lieutenant?” He asked quickly and the man below you nodded quickly.

“Just some shrapnel from a tree burst, sir.”

You looked up to the General slowly, watching his eyes land on the rifle at the Lieutenant’s side before glancing across the clearing.

“Good. Well done with the sniper, son.”

The Lieutenant shifted uncomfortably but you nodded quickly, helping him sit up. “An impressive shot, sir.” You added.

The General’s eyes fell on you, still full of that heated rage, but apparently he’d run out of words to say on the subject of your unwanted presence for he simply turned and made his way back towards the barracks.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Lieutenant.” You turned back to him, the coppery tang of blood on the air focusing you like nothing else seemed to be able to.

Working your way to your feet, you picked up the abandoned rifle before leading him into the tent. Major Dorward looked up from some papers on his desk, opening his mouth but closing it quickly as you were followed by the Lieutenant.

“Tree burst shrapnel, sir.” You announced in your easy working shorthand.

“Damn Nazis have weaponized the forest. Have a seat, soldier.” He stood and offered his chair, walking over to the stash of supplies to fetch a field kit and bandages for you as you set the rifle on the cot in the corner, putting your helmet down beside it. “Ah my apologies, trooper.” He amended.

You turned back to see the distinct jump boots with bloused trousers now that the Lieutenant was seated and smiled. “I apologize as well, Lieutenant. I missed that outside.”

You worked his ODs and wool shirt open to began carefully cleaning his wound, leaving him in his undershirt in the chill of the tent.

“Doesn’t seem you miss much, Nurse.” He looked up to you as he spoke softly and you swallowed thickly as you noted his eyes were actually hazel, with flecks of gold around his pupils.

Mercifully Major Dorward broke out into rich laughter and shook his head. “That she doesn’t.” He commiserated affectionately from his newfound seat on the cot.

“Let me guess,” you murmured to the man seated before you as you gently worked out the last few splinters of wood that had escaped initial treatment, “you also told them this was nothing at the aid station because there were men there whom you considered hurt worse than you.” You glanced to his face as his lips twitched a little. “This could have become a real problem, Lieutenant, I’m glad you came over to offer me a cigarette.”

Turning back, you called the Major over to double check your work.

“Wound is clean and ready for bandaging.” He nodded after looking it over. “When you’re done I suggest you try and sleep. We’re driving out as soon as the truck is ready and the ride out will be about as relaxing as the flight in.”

“Understood, thank you Major.” You nodded as he stepped out of the tent to light a cigarette. You carefully lay some gauze over the crook of the Lieutenant’s shoulder before wrapping some bandages around his neck and under his armpit to hold it in place. “This should heal nicely in a week or so if you can do your best to keep it dry for me…” you trailed off as your fingers found the hole in his ODs.

Casting about the tent, your eyes landed on a tattered blanket in the corner and you began fashioning a patch, whip stitching it into place over the gash in the fabric. “That ought to do it.”

“Thank you, Nurse.” He murmured, looking up at you before he stood slowly, buttoning up his shirt and ODs with practiced efficiency.

“Take care of yourself, trooper.” You nodded, watching him step out, hoping against hope that he would be alright out there.

General McAuliffe proved to be a man of his word, which in retrospect was of no surprise to you whatsoever. The hellish ride out of Bastogne in the back of a truck on the only opened road, with the sounds of battle still raging on either side, took you to Orval where you received orders to report to the 60th Field Hospital there while the men from the 12th would return to the Evacuation Hospital you’d been stationed with since before June 1944. You had been informed your personal effects would arrive at a ‘later date.’

Nuts, indeed.

You worked in Orval for nearly a week, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, wearing the same clothing day-in, day-out, until the 60th was relieved and pulled back to Mourmelon-le-Grand. As promised, your belongings were waiting for you there, in the iron grip of a dour-faced Chief Nurse MacDonald who was only too happy to put a ‘reckless, insubordinate’ Nurse like you in her place at the 123rd Station Hospital.

What followed was a grueling month of scrubbing and refitting the near derelict buildings abandoned by the Airborne when they were abruptly called to the Ardennes. By the time the place was worthy of being called a hospital, you had managed to become at least friendly with your new colleagues, though they remained suspicious after your filthy and unceremonious arrival.

By mid-February, a tent city began to spring up around the base, heralding the impending arrival of troops from the front. And with them came all manner of cold weather maladies - pneumonia, trench foot, frostbite. Working on the general ward now, you could only eye the surgical nurses with envy, knowing your skills were going to waste emptying bedpans and changing bandages and that you had no one to blame but yourself.

Stubborn in all things, however, you worked without complaint, often being rewarded with more work or the worst assignments because your superiors knew you would complete any task with efficient silence. It was precisely this combination that saw you assigned to the night shift, a small mercy in that the vengeful Chief Nurse would never deign to work such hours, allowing you to develop a new working relationship with Captain Munro, MD.

“Nurse might I borrow you a moment?” He interrupted you as you stepped away from the bedside of a postoperative patient and you quickly nodded, following him off the ward and down the hall to his office. “I’m up to my eyeballs in trench foot but there’s an officer in here, seems he lacerated his hand helping one of his men climb out a transport - quite stubborn. Whether or not it needs sutures I am confident you can determine…” he exhaled, clearly exhausted from working a double shift as he came to a stop outside the door. “Is it alright if I leave this one in your capable hands? You’ll find everything you need in the cabinet.” He looked at you pleadingly, eyes underscored by dark bags of fatigue as he held out the chart and you nodded quickly.

“Certainly sir, please don’t worry about a thing.” You smiled softly at the relieved slump of his shoulders before he nodded firmly in thanks, dashing off down the hall to no doubt deal with another man’s beleaguered feet.

You glanced over the chart of Captain Ronald Speirs quickly before knocking on the door, giving the man some warning, before you stepped inside. You tilted your head to see the Captain with his back turned to you, halfway back into the worn jacket of his ODs, appearing quite prepared to leave.

“Just a moment please, Captain Speirs, I would like to take a look at your hand, sir.” You said softly, eyes widening as the man turned around swiftly, arms still slightly akimbo, to reveal the very same Lieutenant whom you’d bandaged that morning in Bastogne. Who’d saved your life, and watched you take out a sniper with barely a comment.

His eyes were fatigued, his hair grown long. He clearly hadn’t seen a razor in quite some time and yet you were struggling to recall a moment when you’d found a man so attractive in your entire life. You suddenly felt acutely self conscious in your white and brown seer sucker hospital dress with brown cotton stockings and cardigan to match, nursing cap pinned in your hair.

“It’s nothing ma’am, I’m fine.” He repeated himself word for word and you bit the inside of your cheek, having a hard time deciphering if he was joking or just built that obstinately. You did not miss, however, the slight rasp in the back of his throat.

“Good, let’s keep it that way, shall we Captain?”

You gestured for him to sit in the chair he’d surely recently vacated and carefully took the one across the corner of the desk from him, holding out your hand expectantly. As he set the back of his left hand in yours, you frowned at the laceration along the side of his palm. Captain Munro had been right, it really was borderline in need of suturing.

Laying his hand on the desk gently you stepped over to the cabinet to collect the necessary supplies, deciding to play it safe. You could suture quickly enough - the man clearly needed to get some rest and you did not want to keep him from it. While swiping his palm clean with an iodine wipe you glanced at him as he cleared his throat.

“I didn’t think you were assigned here.” He commented quietly.

You shook your head ruefully as you unpacked a tube of pre-threaded sutures with a curved needle. “I wasn’t until very recently. I used to be assigned to the 12th Evacuation Hospital but after my…behavior it was deemed necessary to reassign me.”

“I said nothing, I swear.” He replied quickly, brow furrowing and you could not help the smile that pulled at your lips.

“I believe you, Captain. Heaven knows where I’d be if you had.” Gently positioning his hand on the desk top, you smoothly rotated the curved needle through first one edge of his cut and then the other, looping the length of it around your forceps twice before pulling the end through to create a square knot.

You repeated two more casts before snipping the ends of the suture, looking to him sharply as he let out a rattling cough. “How long have you had that cough, Captain?”

“Few days…” he replied evasively and you hummed disapprovingly.

“If it doesn’t go away in a couple of days, you should come back and see me.” You spoke as you began the next stitch.

“And if it does get better?” He asked quietly, watching your careful work.

“I’ll be here all the same.” You replied, pressing your lips together as you fought another smile at the thrill that unfurled in your stomach.

“Whom should I ask for?” His voice came out particularly gravelly and he cleared his throat forcefully.

It was your turn to look startled as you suddenly came to realize you had yet to introduce yourself. You quickly shared your name before shaking your head in shame. “You must think me some wild animal, Captain, please forgive me.” You muttered and tied off the fourth and final stitch.

He nodded at you, eyes taking on a glossy quality that had you growing more concerned by the moment. You set down your tools and raised a hand to brush the backs of your fingers against his forehead, heart clenching as his eyes fluttered closed. Those infernal eyelashes dusting against his cheeks. His skin felt a normal temperature but another ragged cough wracked his frame and you clenched your jaw.

“I’d like to listen to your lungs, Captain.” You muttered and stepped over to the cabinet once more to grab the stethoscope you’d seen there.

He blinked up at you as he began to undo his wool shirt. “It’s Ron.” He corrected you and another smile escaped you before you managed to smother it, hands cupping the bell of the stethoscope to warm it.

“Thank you, Ron.” You said softly, inserting the tips into your ears before stepping closer to press the stethoscope against his upper left chest. “Deep breath in for me?”

You listened carefully to each quadrant of his lungs, pleased there was no crackling or anything else abnormal. Satisfied it was most likely just a cold, you looped the stethoscope around your neck as you stepped back.

“Everything seems alright, promise me you’ll get some rest and keep warm?” You asked gently, doing your best not to allow your eyes to linger on the way his undershirt clung to his lithe frame. You did take a selfish moment to appreciate how well his wound from Bastogne had healed, however.

“Promise.” He nodded, doing up his shirt more slowly this time, courtesy of the stitches in his palm. “Remind me when I get to see you again?”

You bit your lip slightly and took a breath. “If the cough doesn’t improve, a couple of days. To get your stitches out, a couple of weeks. Please keep them clean and dry until tomorrow night at least.”

“Got it.” He nodded and straightened his OD jacket, pulling on a worn scarf from the back of the chair before standing slowly.

“But for now straight to bed.” You opened the door, watching over him feeling wildly and inexplicably overprotective.

“Thank you.” He looked to you drowsily and you nodded, seeing him out then turning back to clean up and complete his chart before rushing back to your actual duties that night.

One week passed, and then another. There was no visit from Captain Speirs. You did your utmost to convince yourself it was for the best, that it meant he was healthy. That he’d had his stitches removed by a nurse on the day shift at his convenience. Word came that his entire Division would receive a Presidential Unit Citation and Ike himself would be coming to visit to deliver it on Roosevelt’s behalf.

You were promptly informed by Chief Nurse MacDonald that your presence during the ceremony was not welcome, but if you wanted to observe the Divisional dress rehearsal a few days before, on your own time of course, she would not stop you.

Breaking out your dress uniform for the first time in months, you obstinately got ready just after the end of your shift that morning and strode your way over to the parade ground with a few of the girls on the evening shift who were certainly better rested than you. More than a few off duty nurses from the five other hospitals in Mourmelon had found their way onto the grounds to take a peek at the men in their finery and you could only imagine that number would be many times higher on the fifteenth when Ike himself was there.

The weather was thankfully cooperative as you huddled together near a collection of trees watching the men of the 101st file past. The contrast between their neatly pressed uniforms with mirror shined boots and the battered but not beaten men you’d encountered in Bastogne was truly striking. Each and every one of them truly deserved the honor that was about to be bestowed upon them.

Once everyone was satisfied that the ceremony would proceed without a hitch, the men were dismissed and you turned to head back to your tent to catch what sleep you could before your shift that night. Smothering a yawn behind your hand, the group of women you were walking with all came to a halt when a familiar voice called ‘Nurse!’ All of you almost seemed to turn back as one.

If six pairs of inquisitive female eyes intimidated Captain Speirs he did not let it show. He quickly clarified with your name, the other nurses filing away murmuring amongst themselves disappointedly.

“Good morning, Captain.” You nodded to him as he came to stand in front of you, sliding his helmet from his head to tuck it under his arm.

“Good morning.” He replied, eyes skimming over your uniform curiously.

You noted he’d found the time to visit a barber, his hair neatly trimmed and styled, though you rather missed the tousled waves he’d first arrived with.

“You are sounding well, Captain. I’m glad to hear it.” You smiled softly. “Did your hand mend nicely?”

He lifted it for your inspection and you looked to him startled to see the stitches still in place.

“Captain, these sutures were ready to be removed days ago.” You chided him softly as you cradled his hand in yours.

“I was told you were unavailable.” He replied quietly and you looked to his face quizzically before it dawned on you that he must have returned to the hospital during another shift and simply left when he learned you weren’t there.

“My apologies, I work nights. Any nurse can take care of these, they must itch something fierce.” You frowned.

“What time does your shift begin tonight?” He asked, seemingly happy to leave his hand at your mercy for as long as you chose to hold it.

“2100.” You replied, noting the disappointment that pinched at the bridge of his nose. “But I could meet you there at 2015 if it means getting this taken care of.”

He nodded firmly. “2015, then. Thank you.” He eyed you a moment as you tried in vain to fight back another yawn. “What time does your shift end?”

“0900. I should get back to get some rest. Just wanted to sneak a peek at the big show. You boys will do great when Ike’s in town.” You nodded warmly.

“You won’t be here?” He tilted his head curiously and you let out a scoff of self deprecation.

“Reckless, insubordinate nurses like me aren’t to be seen by the Supreme Allied Commander.”

A furrow appeared between his brows, the muscle of his jaw ticking slightly before he exhaled. “I wish they would stop punishing you for your bravery.”

Your eyebrows shot up beneath the brim of your service cap. You had been trying your damnedest to not let it bother you, especially after hearing the men of the 12th Hospital you’d gone in with had all received the Silver Cross. To hear him speak in your defense was quite honestly overwhelming.

After a careful glance around the nearly empty parade ground confirmed the remaining individuals were otherwise occupied, you leaned in to quickly press your lips to his freshly shaved cheek, thumb swiping away any trace of your lipstick.

“Thank you, Ron.” You swallowed tightly as the heat of his gaze was as palpable as a caress on the skin of your face. “I will see you later to remove your stitches.” Squeezing his hand gently you released it to hang at his side.

His silent nod was the only response you received before you turned to make your way back to your tent for some much needed rest, though your mind would have much rather focused on the way the sunlight lit his eyes than to let you sleep.

Arriving at the hospital that night at 2000 you tracked down Captain Munro and secured his permission to borrow his office once more in the name of treating the stubborn Captain Speirs. Setting out suture scissors and tweezers on a tray upon the desk, you hurried out front to meet the Captain lest he was misinformed about your availability again.

“Good Evening.” He nodded as you stepped outside, hugging your cardigan close against the chill of the night.

“Evening, Captain, please follow me.” You smiled and led him through the maze of hallways before holding open the door to the prepared office.

He assumed the same seat as before and, closing the door behind you, you sat opposite, looking over his palm as he set it in your waiting hand.

“You’ve done a very good job keeping it clean for me, Captain, thank you.” You smiled and picked up the curved scissors, the edge that pressed against the skin not at all sharp. “I’ll cut the stitches first and then pull them out with the tweezers, alright?”

He nodded, watching you closely as you snipped your way through the silk strands very carefully.

“They call me ‘killer’ you know…” he spoke apropos of nothing and you slowly raised your eyes, feeling as though you were joining an internal conversation well in progress.

Rumors spread through camp faster than that bone rattling cough he’d arrived with - you’d heard your fair share of things about him. Particularly after your tent mates had learned that he’d spoken to you earlier that day on the parade ground.

“Sure he’s pretty and all but after the things he did to those Nazi prisoners…” Betty from Indiana had insisted with a dramatic shudder.

“And his own Sergeant!” Philomena of New York had chimed in with an emphatic nod.

All of it struck you as hollow and vapid, coming from two wide-eyed girls fresh from Stateside who’d only ever known war stationed in hospitals with roofs and walls. Never been fired on, never had an enemy soldier try and take the life of a patient right out from under them.

“Well, Ron,” you replied thoughtfully as you set the scissors onto the waiting tray, “they could easily say the same thing about me. It just so happens I had a very honorable man at my side when my anger got the best of me.”

His eyes seized yours, pinning you to the spot with your hand hovering just above the set of tweezers as you forgot how to breathe. His lips tentatively began to form words several times before he abandoned his attempts to speak and lunged forward to close the space between you, his lips slotting against yours in reply instead.

Inhaling sharply through your nose in surprise, you found yourself quickly leaning into his kiss, fingers threading into his shorter hair as you tilted your head to press your lips more firmly to his. Sliding his arms around your shoulders, he pulled you close, tongue delving into your mouth greedily. A soft whimper escaped your throat only to be swallowed by his devouring mouth as he tasted you thoroughly.

Appearing discontent with the separation between your bodies, his hands shifted to grip your hips, guiding you onto his lap before his fingers began to pluck at the buttons of your cardigan. Rucking up the skirt of your dress and slip beneath, you settled over his hips, shuddering as the hard bulge of his length nestled tightly against your core.

“We don’t have a lot of time” you panted against his lips as his hands brushed aside your open cardigan to tug at the tie of your wrap dress, revealing your cream coloured slip beneath.

“Understood.” He murmured as he pulled back to drink you in, eyes taking on that glossy quality from back in February that’d had you so convinced he was febrile.

“Ron…” you urged gently, your own hands sliding between your bodies to work at the fastenings of his dress trousers.

Lost in some sort of trance he leaned forward to press his lips against the hollow of your throat before he secured the ball chain of your ID tags between his teeth and pulled them out from beneath the v-neck of your slip. Brushing his lips against the flat metal stamped with your name and serial number, preceded by the letter N, your heart lurched beneath your ribs fondly as it forgot its normal rhythm for a few beats.

The feel of his fingertips undoing the fastenings of your stockings from your garter straps refocused you and you quickly worked his fly open, sliding his trousers and boxers down as he did the same with your underwear, depositing them onto the floor.

Shifting higher onto your knees, you pressed your face against his temple as he took his cock into his hand, pressing into your entrance slowly. You whimpered breathily against his hair before dropping your head to the crook of his shoulder to try your best to keep your volume down. Rocking your hips against his with a smothered moan you clenched your thighs to begin working up and down along his length.

Heavy breaths fell from his parted lips, brushing against the skin of your neck, goose flesh erupting in the wake of each exhale. His fingers curled into the flesh of your hips as he helped drive your hips against his.

“Ahn, Ron!” You keened against his jacket, lifting your head to kiss him hungrily.

He rocked his hips up into yours each time your pelvis met his before letting out a frustrated grunt against your lips. “On the desk.” He rasped pleadingly and you nodded quickly, sliding from his lap to shuffle backwards, pushing the tray of instruments further behind you before perching on the edge.

Surging to his feet, he nestled between your legs, tongue sliding along yours as he thrust into your aching warmth once more. You cried out hungrily down his throat as your nails dug into the sleeves of his uniform jacket, clinging to him as he set a deliciously dizzying pace that had your toes curling in your shoes.

A ragged moan rumbled through his chest as his cock twitched within your wet heat and he quickly pulled back, chest heaving. Pushing from the desk, you fell to your knees, ignoring the slight sting as they impacted the floor, to wrap your lips around the leaking tip of his length.

He hissed through clenched teeth, hand coming to rest against the back of your head as you hollowed your cheeks tightly around him. Encircling him in your grasp, you eagerly stared up at his face as you stroked his cock, clenching your thighs together as the corded muscle of his neck flexed with the effort to remain silent as his salty release filled your mouth.

Laving him clean with your tongue, you sat back on your heels, swallowing every last drop as he watched on in stunned silence. Fingers sliding up your thighs to retrieve the first of your garter straps, you shivered a little as you remained highly sensitive, having been so close yourself, but also very much aware of the lack of time. You rose to your feet, about to begin fastening your stockings when his hands were on your waist, guiding you to sit on top of the desk once again.

“You didn’t…” He exhaled through flared nostrils and shook his head sharply. “Unacceptable.” Was all the warning he afforded you before he crouched down to seal his lips around your throbbing clit, two fingers plunging into your trembling warmth.

“Holy…” you barely managed to cover your mouth with your palm, hips bucking violently toward him.

He hummed against you approvingly as you lay back onto the worn wooden surface, writhing as fingers picked up the thread of your pleasure, winding it tighter and tighter as his mouth felt like it was sucking your very soul from you. Every muscle in your body became taught with exquisite tension until, at last, like the blowing of a fuse your release detonated behind your clenched eyelids.

Relaxing into the desk top with languid ease, you ran your fingers through his hair in tender appreciation. “Really…have no time now…” you murmured breathlessly and he pressed his damp lips to your inner thigh before pulling you up to a seated position and began to help you re-dress.

Any time his lips were vaguely within the vincinty of yours, you unhelpfully insisted on kissing him softly, significantly hindering progress, but eventually the pair of you were mostly presentable. He cupped your cheek with his left hand and your eyes shot wide at the rasp of sutures against your skin.

“Ron!” You gasped, grabbing his wrist and groping behind you for the tweezers before setting about carefully trying to remove them.

It was his turn to be a nuisance as he nuzzled his face into the soft skin of your neck, sighing gently, making you giggle under your breath as his eyelashes tickled your flesh.

“You are a wild animal.” His voice held a dreamlike quality, lips brushing against your throat as he spoke.

You honestly would have swatted him if his tone weren’t so reverent, doing your best to focus on removing the last two sutures.

“A lioness - fierce and strong and brave and gorgeous.” He rambled before brushing a line of feather-light kisses up towards your jaw.

It made your heart ache with the longing to linger with this verbose version of him that had somehow been unleashed, but according to the clock above the door, you had to be on duty in two minutes.

“Ronald Speirs, you sweet talker.” You whispered weakly, setting down the tweezers, your task finally managed. “I hope you sleep well.”

“You know I will, thanks to you.” His eyes met yours warmly before he cupped your cheeks, pulling you in for one last searing kiss. “May I…write to you?” He asked, incongruously hesitant after all that had transpired.

Sliding your arms around his neck, you kissed his forehead. “You’d better. This lioness has claws.” You smirked in a playfully threatening manner, earning a broad grin in response.

————————————-

Band of Brothers Masterlist

Tag list: @bcon24 , @ronsparky

Post-script: Firstly, I agonized for several hours about whether or not to have Ron be married in this. Ultimately, after reading that Ronald Speirs asked his first wife not be mentioned in any way in the miniseries I decided to do the same here. Secondly, while I used a fake name for the Major who flew into Bastogne by glider, this is all based on real events that took place! I decided to use fictional characters here to justify the radical actions I had them take in bringing the reader, but you the story of Major Soutter and the men of the 12th Evacuation Hospital is really quite something!

#ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs fanfic #ronald speirs imagines #ronald speirs imagine #ronald speirs #ron speirs #band of brothers smut #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers

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bellewintersroe · 1 month

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Okay this is part 2 from this anon request, which one of my lovely followers asked if I could do in the comments @beautifulbluejay <3

Easy Boys x Reader Headcanons - How They React To You Going MIA.

It happened just before his leave to Paris, in fact the reason Nix pushes his leave so hard is because everybody genuinely thought you had gone.

So the trip to Paris isn’t exactly a leave for him, he’s alone and just thinking about you the whole time.

Grief stricken- nobody else knew about your relationship considering it was fraternisation, so he literally feels so alone.

This one’s a lil different- but you’d be completely lost and track Winters down in Paris, all you’d need to do is ask Lewis and he’d probs blabber mouth it to you- although he does think you’re a little crazy because you’ve just gone MIA in the middle of Europe for almost a week and now you’re wanting to travel to Paris.

Anyway you’d get to the correct place, despite having a slight cut on your forehead and grazed knees you’re physically fine- but you get caught up in a German hospital during your time lost and it’s mf scary. You’re so lucky you’re still alive.

You’d knock on the door (assuming it was his) and when he answers it he kinda cracks it open only slightly, and then rips the rest fully open and has a literal heart attack.

“Dick?!” Your voice cracks and you’re crashing into his chest before he can even fathom.

“You’re- you’re here- I?” He’s overwhelmed, wondering if he’s dreaming or not until his arms wrap tightly around you, feeling you cling onto dear life.

Once the shock has worn off and tears were shed Dick can’t let you go. He’s slightly dizzied with practically the shock of his life.

When you’re sleeping he keeps watching over you, checking you’re real.

He can’t do enough for you, gets you food water (ofc), checks over any wounds you have, really talks to you about it- like Dick out of all the men seems extremely emotionally intelligent, so he wants to make sure you’re really okay.

“Just tell me and I can send you somewhere safer…”

“I’d rather just be where you are.”

Lewis Nixon:

After he was supposed to jump into Berlin and he only just made it out of the plane, he turned up to see the explosion right before his eyes. The Germans were shooting down the planes- including the ones he knew you alongside so many other flight nurses and young men were on.

Not only had it gone terribly- now his trauma of knowing you’re potentially gone makes everything 10x harder.

He’d not been able to see you much throughout the war, you’re often stationed in different areas, but he always worried about you, and just then he was so close to you, yet still so far away- it pained Lewis.

Replays the moment over and over again in his head, drinks more and more and as the days pass and he receives no letter from you or your company or family- he knows the worst is coming.

Asks Dick if he should write a letter for your family- he was there after all. Dick informs him it’s probably best to wait until he’s found out what’s really happened to you.

But the silence was screaming at him- and every time be see’s a nurse in a uniform near him he grows restless.

He’s walking near the hospital one day, where he knows hundreds of the prisoners from the camp are being treated. He watches from afar as dozens more of them pile out of trucks and vans, some of them unable to walk- the rest of them still being treated inside the walls of the camp.

He turns away when he see’s the nurses, feeling overwhelmed by the grief until he hears a quick, “Lewis!”

He turns around so quick, dropping his cigarette when he’s stunned by the sound of your voice.

Seconds later you’re running towards him, grinning and giggling. He feels his chest squeeze tighter and he’s practically scurrying towards your direction to embrace you in the biggest hug of his lifetime.

Holy fuck. Lewis thinks. Holy fuck, fuck, fuck. Thank god.

His eyes close and he squeezes you tighter, hand pressing to the back of your head as he attempts to calm himself down whilst you cling onto him.

He very quickly pulls you towards his lips, kissing you deeply, so needily, he doesn’t care who see’s.

Both of you keep talking over the top of one another, excited to be in each others presence again.

“But I thought your plane went down?!” Lewis doesn’t notice until you hold his hands that he’s shaking.

“No, we turned back miles ago, it was too dangerous- oh I’m so glad you’re okay, I didn’t know what happened to you.”

The feeling is mutual, and even if you only get a night to spend together Lewis makes it all worthwhile.

Ron Speirs:

This man is tense asf from the second anything happens.

“What happened to the nurses?” His voice is quiet yet sharp and quick. His hand grabs at Nixon’s arm, urging him to answer immediately.

“Uh, I don’t know. They were in the hospital that got bombed, we’re not sure.” Lewis sighs out slowly, clearly affected by the trauma, but he has no idea about Ron and you.

Ron takes it upon himself to literally do anything he can in his power to find you- ofc he’s worried about everybody else, but the two of you have been together in private way back since before you were deployed. His hearts in his chest.

“We got them all sir, but one.”

“Y/l/n. Where’s Y/l/n?” He attempts to keep cool but his heart is thumping, he has the worst sickness and he can barely hold back how he’s feeling.

The man pauses and shakes his head. “Don’t know, sir.”

The whole company is obviously in grieving, this is when he’s still part of D-company but he’s in misery- he breaks only when he’s alone and in front of the men he keeps an even more tough exterior than ever.

Truthfully he’s hard to be around, he tries to push you to the back of his mind, trying his best to accept you’re gone and that’s it but he can’t.

He’s in the infirmary one day, after literally being shot in the ass- he almost can’t believe what’s going on and refuses to believe it’s true. Ron for the first time feels weak and useless.

“Can somebody help?! Please!” A frantic calling from a more than familiar voice cries out as he’s laid on his side in the bed, curtains closed around his area.

This is the first thing that causes him to move. Ignoring all soreness (he probs just blocks out the pain) he crawls out of bed at the sounds of scurrying and desperate shouting of the medical staff.

Ron could’ve sworn that was your voice, and when he stands, opening the curtains and staring straight at you, he thinks he’s seen a ghost.

He mutters your name so quietly, but you look up, face dirty and slightly bruised and bloodied, uniform dusty with a GI woollen jumper hanging over your frame. Like you’re just looking at each other.

“Excuse me, please.” You’d just tell the medical staff, hurrying your way down the hospital, weaving passed people until you’re stepping closer and closer.

Ron’s breathing and heart increases in a state of shock and you nudge him back in, yanking the curtain shut before you just engulf one another in a hug.

“Ron.” You’d mutter through tears, he grips you even tighter, engulfing your smaller body. “I was so scared, Ron.”

He pulls back your face, his eyes wide and stunned before holding either side of your face and pulling you in for a deep, borderline desperate kiss.

It’s the best comfort either of you have had in days, and once your lips part you fall back into his arms.

He’s probably lost for words for the first few minutes, and he’ll become all teary eyes for the first time in front of you.

“Are you okay? What happened to you?” He speaks for the first time, checking over you worriedly after remembering you must’ve been in that shelled out hospital

“There was Germans… I took a patient and ran away in the bombings. We got lost- we only just got back here now. I don’t know if he’s okay or not.”

All he can do is comfort you and hold you close, still in a state of disbelief.

“Why-why are you in here? What’s wrong?” You’d eventually ask. “I was shot.” Ron spoke in a blasé manner. He didn’t care about himself, only you.

“Where?”

… “my ass.”

Babe Heffron:

Hear me out, you’re a little bit clumsy yet always careful with everybody’s life but seemingly your own?

Like you’ve been at war for 8 months or so and still Babe worries that you’ve stumbled onto enemy lines just because you went to find a man’s boots or something.

He looks out for you and takes care of you so much, like it’s so so sweet and everybody’s aware that you’re Babe’s girl, even if you keep it more or less hidden out of respect for the fraternisation rules.

Anyway, you’re assigned to second platoon & that’s how you and Babe got close initially, the second nurse was sadly lost, and ever since then in Bastogne, Babe has been extra worried that something might happen to you.

It’s the day after Jackson passed and everybody’s exhausted, even though they’ll be moving off the line, they’re all sick of war.

“Hey anybody seen y/n?” He’d glance around the room where she’d usually be hanging out when she wasn’t at the aid station.

“She’s not at the aid station?” Joe would ask.

“No.” Babe would frown, pushing himself up and heading out.

He tries not to panic at first, but admittingly he has an anxiety nibbling away at the back of his mind.

Something just feels off, you’re not at CP, at the infirmary, with the other nurses, where you’re billeted.

“Babe!” One of the nurses shrieks in surprise as he bursts into the house they were stationed in.

“Sorry, sorry. Anybody seen y/n?” None of them have, not since the early afternoon and it was nearing 6. Your duty ended three hours ago.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

(Okay this isn’t as extreme as some of the other cases, I wanted to change it up a bit)

20 minutes later he’s chain smoking like crazy, asking all the guys where the hell you were.

“Babe? What’re you yapping about?” Your voice appears, giggling as he snaps his head, almost doing a 360.

At first relief floods through him, but then he see’s your helping a limping soldier, bleeding just below your eyebrow.

“Jesus- what the hell?!” His voice raised, breath stuck in his chest.

“A little help here, Babe?”

After hooking up under the other side of the wounded back, he helps you both back to the aid station firing questions a million miles an hour in your direction.

“I’m fine, Babe.” You’d soothe. “What happened?! Where th’ hell were ya?!” He’d take both your shoulders, holding his hand over the cut on your forehead, in an attempt to apply pressure.

“Babe-” you’d swat his hand away, becoming distracted with the sight behind you. Clearly you didn’t realise how worried he was.

“Ya shouldn’t run off like that!”

“Babe-”

“Ya got me worried sick!”

“Edward! His leg is crushed! Let me go help!”

“Edward?!”

“Wait here, alright? I’ll be 10 minutes.”

Babe waits, watching you help some of the other nurses and medics with the man you both carried inside, tending to what looked to be a badly wounded leg. He grimaced and turned away, growing an even more profound respect for you (if that was even possible).

When you’re done you head straight back to him. “Sorry, Babe, his leg was so-” You go to hold his arm but instead he turns, engulfing you in a bone crushing hug.

“I thought I’d lost ya, never do that again.”

Finally, you’d silence and realise just how worried he was. He was border lining upset, his frustration had dissolved and turned into pure relief.

“I’m okay.” You’d whisper, leading him to the quieter area of the porch.

“Where were ya?” He’d glance over you, checking head to toe everything was okay, hands still on your forearms.

“I went to get some supplies, then I found him- his leg was stuck under rubble. I couldn’t just leave him.”

“What ‘bout ya head?”

“I knocked myself in the face, you know what I’m like.”

“Oh thank god, ya scared me, angel.”

Ugh he’s such a sweetheart, just apologise to him and promise you won’t do that again without telling him.

#band of brothers x reader #band of brothers #ron speirs x reader #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers headcanons #dick winters x reader #lewis nixon x reader #babe heffron x reader

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donovanlizzie · 4 months

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MASTERLIST:

BAND OF BROTHERS

THE PACIFIC

GENERATION KILL

#generation kill imagine #band of brothers imagines #the pacific #the pacific imagines #the pacific hbo #ron speirs imagines #hbo war

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chasingstardustandmoonbeams · 2 years

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Maybe not so one-sided

Repost from my old blog sohoneyspreadyourwings

Drabble: Word Count - 1.1k

The feeling of the alcohol burning as it went down your throat was a stark contrast to cool feeling of the glass against your lips. Unbothered by the bitter taste, you set your glass down against the bar counter. Idly, your finger ran along the side of the glass, swiping at the condensation that had formed.

The bar was lively, men drunkenly singing along to Vera Lynn, while others began to keel over from a friendly drinking competition. You let out a small laugh as Bill Guarnere fell to the floor, knocking down a chair in the process.

“Somebody can’t hold their liquor,” came a snort to your left.

Taking another swig of your drink, you turned with a smile to see George Luz casually leaning against the bar counter.

“Me on the other hand? Five glasses in and I don’t feel nuthin’.” As if to prove his point further, George downed the rest of his glass before asking for another. Leaning against the bar, George nearly fell over as he tried to get the bartender’s attention.

Your arm instinctively reaching out to help him steady, you both let out a booming laugh.

“You alright there, George?” You managed to ask between laughs.

“Me? Just peachy,” he replied a bit breathlessly, a wide smile spread across his face, “Especially since I got you taking care of me.”

“Charmer,” you grinned, enjoying the way George’s smile grew more love struck at the comment.

He opened his mouth to no doubt say something witty, when he peered over your shoulder. Almost comically, his mouth clamped shut, eyes growing wide.

“I, uh, I think…” George stammered, “What’s that Perconte?” He yelled, before ducking down and ramming his hip into a nearby table.

“George?” You called out, but all you got in response was a grunt, and a small whine.

Face scrunched up in confusion, you turned around just in time to see someone make their way outside the bar. Curiosity got the better of you as you weaved your way through drunken men.

Opening the door, you felt a sigh of relief as the cool night air hit you, the quiet a welcome comfort to your ears.

The sound of a lighter clicking drew your attention, your eyes found Speirs a few feet away from you.

“Too noisy for you in there?” You said softly, making your way towards him gradually, as if making a sudden move would cause him to run away like a frightened deer.

Ron let out a short breathy laugh as he lit up his cigarette. “Something like that,” he murmured.

“What? You’re not gonna offer me one?”

Ron’s eyes turned to you, a mixture of amusement and curiosity written across his face.

“Would you take one?” He challenged, the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“No, but not because I think you’d shoot me,” you replied, relishing in the way that Ron’s smile grew by a fraction. “The offer just would have been nice,” you teased.

Ron’s gaze was lingering as he looked at you. Taking a long drag, he tore his eyes away, his gaze now fixed on the horizon.

“What brings you out here anyways? Looked like you were having a good enough time with Luz keeping you company.”

You couldn’t help the perplexed look that appeared on your face, as you looked at Ron.

His eyes refused to meet yours as he continued to stare into the horizon.

“I was having a nice time with George. He saved me from boredom before he ran off.”

Your eyes searched Ron’s face, looking for the slightest bit of a tell.

“He ran off?” Ron said simply, his voice unwavering.

“Yeah, guess somebody scared him off. Do you know who that might have been?” You challenged, your mind already coming to its own conclusion.

“Not a clue.”

“He rammed into a table, you know.”

“Well, that’s tragic, but I don’t know who-”

“Ron,” you said softly.

His eyes snapped to yours instantly, his expression softening at the sound of his name.

“Why would you scare off George? He’s harmless, and he’s my friend I don’t get why…”

Ron looked at you hard, his jaw working as if he was fighting the words desperately trying to claw themselves out. With frustration, Ron put out his cigarette, his boot harshly scraping against the dirt.

“I mean…” your voice trailed off, “It’s not like your jealous right?”

Ron let out a sigh, crossing his arms against his chest. His downcast eyes met yours and it stole your breath away.

“But…me?” You tried to reason, “We hardly ever speak, and when we do, I’m the one who’s doing most of the talking. I thought, well, I thought you tolerated me at best. I mean, I knew I-”

You clamped your mouth shut, stopping yourself before you said anything that you might regret.

“You knew you what?”

“How I felt about you, how I feel, even if it is one sided.”

You both stood still, watching each other in fear that the other might run.

“Ron, we shouldn’t….I know we’re not supposed to. But I -”

In the blink of an eye, Ron quickly closed the distance between you both. His hands gently cradled your face as he kissed you. It was softer, far softer than you thought Ron was capable of. His hold on you was firm, an extension of Ron himself. He kissed you wholly, deeply, as if all there was was this moment. The both of you standing outside some dingy bar in the middle of a war, as your friends all sung along inside.

Ron pulled away first, his eyes still closed as he delicately cradled your face in his hands.

“It’s not one sided,” he murmured softly against your hair, placing a gentle kiss against your temple.

Your breath grew shakey, your eyes desperately pleading for Ron to open his own.

A loud bang caused you both to jump apart, the silent revere of your words , your kiss, broken.

A group of drunken soldiers came stumbling out of the bar, not paying you a second glance before making their way down the road.

You turned to look at Ron who was nearly halfway down the road.

He turned back to look at you, a somber expression written across his face. He gave you a small nod, a hint of a smile on his face, before he continued his walk.

Your heart felt heavy at the revelation that had just occurred. His words echoing in your head, searing itself into your mind.

“Hey!”

You turned to see George poking his head out the door.

“You in for a game of rummy?”

A smile appearing on your face, you nodded back at George, making your way back inside.

With one last glance down the road, you walked into the bar. Licking your lips, you felt the ghost of Ron’s lips on yours, and the weight of his words on your heart.

#ron speirs x reader #ron speirs x you #ron speirs imagine #ron speirs imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers x reader

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brassknucklespeirs · 2 years

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Lᴜᴄᴋ Bᴇ Oɴ Mʏ Sɪᴅᴇ [Rᴏɴᴀʟᴅ Sᴘᴇɪʀs x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

Genre: Angsty Fluff

Warning: Mention of killing people, graphic depictions of said killing, graphic depictions of warfare, strong language, mention of weapons (rifles and knives)

Prompt: Requested by @mads-weasley “I was wondering if I could request a fic where Ron and the reader are secretly together and she missing like Bull in episode 3 (Carentan) and Ron is going crazy trying to find her. When they do find her, she's okay, but dinged up -> he gets all emotional when he gets to talk to her alone because he realizes he almost lost her”

A/N i hope this helps you feel a little better hun, made it extra fluffy at the end just for you <3

This wasn’t how everything was supposed to go. It was only supposed to be a passover town, they’d duck in one side and come out the other and continue their trip to Hagenau with no problems. Somehow, problems were found. Several hidden companies of German troops had been waiting to strike as 2nd Battalion rolled in to the town, and chaos had ensued.

She sulked in frustration, thinking of how she was supposed to be with her company on their way to Hagenau, sitting with her platoon as they pulled up in the trucks to their new position. Instead they’d have likely done that without her already, all while thinking she was dead and gone. Her chest had clenched violently as she thought of everyone Easy company had lost and how they’d have likely already added her name to that list. She knew there would be some who would hold out a little hope, but the men were tired and Bastogne had taken so much from them that she wouldn’t blame them for thinking the worst.

The lieutenant was lucky, after being separated from the company as they withdrew she’d been able to tuck herself away under fallen rubble of what used to be someone’s home, hidden away from sight. She’d heard the trucks distantly as they drove off, hearing the sound of gunfire turning to silence shortly after. Y/N’s heart had sunk to her stomach at this, she’d felt helpless and lost, but in catching herself beginning to give up she’d wiped the idea from her mind as much as she could. Uninjured and still breathing, she’d reminded herself of how far she had come, how many people had gone so she could keep fighting, how much she had to live for. With squared shoulders and fingers clenching tightly round her rifle, the woman had waited for the cover of darkness before moving out.

***

This wasn’t how everything was supposed to go. The man thought while pacing back and forth, his bottom lip pinched between his thumb and finger. There was a deep pit that had dug itself a home in his stomach, anxiety scratching at his skin as he stood by the river splitting Hagenau in two. Nixon walked up from behind him, calling to him firmly.

“Any news?” Ron asked, trying to hold his voice from trembling. It had been almost two days since they’d withdrawn from that god-awful town where he’d lost her. It had been frustratingly stressful no one knowing a damn thing about her whereabouts aside from the comment from her sergeant, Donald Malarkey, about how he’d last seen her alive, and that she was cut off from any exit routes. He would usually be one of those who would hold out hope for his officer and friend, but the previous loss of some of his other closest friends had led him to simply slump his shoulders in defeat after he heard the news she was missing.

Nixon had questioned the company CO intense concern in his head but decided to keep it to himself as he simply shook his head and moved to stand beside the man. Ron sighed in frustration, moving to pinch the bridge of his nose and screwing his eyes shut to stop them from watering.

“We also can’t risk a search party right now, not with the patrol orders coming through.” After watching the utter look of defeat spread over the man’s face, Nixon raked his mind for any kind of reassurance he could offer him. “But this is Y/N we’re talking about, she’s likely taken the road back to our previous position and will soon be on the next truck on her way here.” A pat on Ron’s shoulder ended the conversation as he tried to ignore the gnawing feeling in his stomach. He had a job to do as company CO, and he knew Y/N would want him to continue as if the world wasn’t going to stop spinning. But Y/N had been just that, his world, his anchor, his rock and his love. Her absence had sent him into a frenzy of emotion and those around him had started to notice the way he was losing his cool. He knew this couldn’t happen though, the men had gone through too many incompetent leaders and as Nixon continued to watch him carefully, the man had simply squared his shoulders and wiped the expression off his face. He cleared his throat and gulped down everything left unsaid before turning to the intelligence officer, spotting the red headed XO walking towards then from over his shoulder.

“So for tonight’s patrol, sir, I was thinking Liebgott, Grant...”

***

The trip out of that god-forsaken town was luckily quick and quiet for the woman as she slunk behind building corners and crawled her way through the grass undetected. The road back to Easy Company’s previous position however, not so much. She had been so close, dodging several German patrols and making good progress overall. That was until she’d messed up. Night had fallen again, the moon full and bright as the third patrol of Krauts had moved towards her. It was only half a squad of men but she didn’t doubt that at least a company was not far behind them. She thought she’d be fine, she really did, but as her exhaustion started to catch up on her, she had slipped. The sound of her strangled gasp and the snapping of sticks had given her away, the men quickly yelling for her to show herself. Her blood ran cold, her chest constricting as she realised just how screwed she was. That didn’t stop her from quietly pulling the rifle off her shoulder and readying her aim. If this was her end then she was going to go down fighting.

Y/N counted six men advancing towards her, her mind reeling as she thought of her options. She decided then she’d have to use several different tactics; distraction, camouflage and then throw her absolute all into a last assault. The woman took a breath, calming her rapidly beating heart before she begun.

The sound of something behind the men had startled them into turning there backs to her as she placed her outreached hand back to her rifle after letting go of the rock. The yelling from the men helped mask the sound of her movement as she moved quickly, taking up position behind a thick fallen tree that had a space big enough to slip into. She took a strained breath, clutching her rifle to her chest as she waited. They had started to search for her, splitting themselves into two smaller groups of three. She watched one group walk passed her through a gap in the rotting tree trunk before glancing back through a different gap to see the other three men moving back in the direction they’d come. Her eyes flickered between the two groups as she weighed her options, trying to decide what her best bet was. After noticing the rank on two of the men who had stupidly split off in the same group, she had chosen her first kills. Cutting the soldiers off from any form of leadership would send them into a frenzy, one that she hoped she could survive, especially with a few moments to spare before the other group would turn back in her direction. She hoped that they would be slow enough not to be able to pinpoint her position, she also hoped they’d shot in any direction but hers, that she could wait long enough for them to think she was dead before they too would be targeted.

Inhaling deeply through her nose before letting it slip from her lips, the woman aimed her rifle, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of it. Y/N praised her sharpshooter ability in that moment as she let off the quickest three shots she could, each finding their mark as the three German soldiers fell quickly to the ground. The spray of bullets began promptly after, and she watched the trail of marks making themselves in the trees behind her. She could tell by their placement that they indeed had no idea where she was hiding and were just shooting in hopes of hitting anything.

A single bullet broke through the rotting wood of the tree, grazing the woman’s shoulder and she thanked any higher being that the noise was loud enough to mask her quiet cry of pain. The noise began to slow, causing the distant sound of a larger assault to be heard in the background. The German’s begun talking rapidly to one another as they picked up on what Y/N assumed to be their platoon under attack in the distance. Luck was certainly on her side today. She grasped her upper arm tightly trying to relieve the pain of the small graze wound while watching as the two of the men scrambled back to their platoon.

One man was left to wander the forest looking for the intruder to ensure they were dead. Stupid idea that was, she thought as she raised her rifle once again, yet as her finger tightened on the trigger, the distinct click of an empty barrel was heard. The woman cursed while moving to grasp another magazine only to pat down an empty hip. Her eyes glanced around in frustration before landing on her fallen ammo that sat tucked under the bush she had placed herself in earlier. Her gaze fell on the soldier as he wandered between her position and the ammunition, a level of stress and anger rising quickly within her. She decided then on her next move as she quietly placed her rifle down onto the ground beside her, moving to grasp at the large knife that was strapped to her waist. She glanced down at the knife as she remembered the man who had given it to her after placing a gentle kiss to her lips.

“I hope the most you’ll have to use this for is to cut yourself out of your chute but in case you don’t just remember to aim for the throat.”

Y/N had laughed when Ron had told her this because in his own way, this was how he showed his love. He had never been the most emotionally open aside from the physical affection he often showed her when they were by themselves and so he had other ways to show how he felt.

She pulled herself away from the memory before tightening her grip on the sharp weapon. The woman manoeuvred her body quietly out of the tree trunk and waited behind it as the soldier walked closer. Using her previous tactic, she threw a nearby rock into the distance and smiled slyly as he turned towards the noise. Crouching, she crept closer and was so close to striking before he had snapped his head back to her, his weapon raised in her direction. Her breath caught in her throat for a split second as they stared at each other, fear obvious in both gazes. The glint of moonlight on the weapon in her hand had been her motivation as she leapt at him just as his finger pulled the trigger. He narrowly missed her as she caught him round the front and shoved the knife into him. She had looked away quickly, blood squirting across her body and face as the metal met its mark.

She hasn’t stuck around after that, quickly pulling the knife from his neck, trying her best to ignore the noises that escaped his throat. Y/N blinked the tears back, quickly moving to grab her rifle and ammo from their places before taking off in a sprint away from the scene.

Her feet carried her at top speed for a good ten minutes before her body began to give out on her, exhaustion and pain finally taking its toll. Her luck was running out as her left foot hit an exposed tree root, sending her forward to the ground in an instant. She hit the floor harshly, her breath knocked from her chest instantly. If she wasn’t so tired she may have just burst into tears out of frustration, but instead just closed her eyes and let the world go dark.

The woman had jolted awake as the stretcher she lay on moved beneath her. No, not the stretcher, the jeep. Y/N scrambled up, clutching for the knife once again before realising she was holding a weapon to the throat of an American soldier.

“Ma’am, you’re alright. You’re safe. We’re almost back to the aid station.” The young man had cried almost desperately as he glanced down cautiously at the metal pressed to his neck. She yanked the knife away quickly and stuttered an apology and asking where the aid station was. His answer was all she could have hoped for, clearly her luck had indeed not disappeared on her as the truck pulled into the previous position she had last left Easy company from.

The driver, a private, and the medic had jumped quickly from truck and moved to pull her stretcher up only for her to shout at them.

“No, no, no. I’m fine, I don’t need no aid station.”

“Ma’am please. We found you passed out on the side of the road shortly after 1st Battalion got rid of the German platoon snooping through the forest. You’ve got a bullet graze to your shoulder and likely severe exhaustion.” The medic had called to her as she jumped off the stretcher, ignoring the men trying to stop her. She rolled her eyes, trying to steady her shaking legs to ensure they didn’t see more reason to keep her from getting back to her company.

“I’m merely tired, just like the rest of you, don’t make it sound worse than it is. And the bullet graze can wait a little longer to be sorted. All I need to know is where is Easy company, 2nd Battalion?”

“Easy Company? They’ve not long taken up position in Hagenau after finding an alternative route.“

“Great. Driver, get me back on that jeep, you’re taking me there right now.” The private had widened his eyes, closing and opening his mouth like a fish before turning his gaze to the medic. The medic had shaken his head at him before the driver looked back at her muttering that they would send a runner ahead so they knew she was fine while they took her to the aid station. She squinted her eyes at the young man before taking a step closer towards him, almost standing nose to nose. “You will get me to Hagenau right away, that is an order private.” She said lowly, sparing a menacing glare at the medic over his shoulder as he went to open his mouth. “The aid station can wait, our medics in Easy can fix me up when I get there. Now let’s go. Now.”

She wouldn’t admit that she was embarrassingly close to falling asleep on the drive to Hagenau but even if she had welcomed sleep, she would have scared the living daylights out of the private just a little more to keep him quiet. The ride wasn’t the shortest and the excitement to return back to her company, her platoon and her love had driven her close to insanity, her legs constantly bouncing uncontrollably. The jeep barely pulled up into the town before the woman was out of it running towards a shocked Malarkey who had been walking between platoon housings when he’d spotted her.

“Lieutenant, you’re…you’re okay. You’re alive.” He’d barely stuttered as she’d reached out to pull the man in for a much needed hug.

“I’m right here Malark, couldn’t leave my favourite platoon sergeant to run things all by himself now could I?” She replied through a tired chuckle. His eyes had lit up when he’d seen her and continued to shine as he let a rare genuine smile pull to his lips.

“Well, I’m glad you’re back. Captain Speirs had been going a little stir crazy without you around. Almost thought he was ready to lead the entire company back to look for you.”

“It’s glad to be back Malark. Now speaking of Captain Speirs, where might I find him? Should probably let him know I’m back.” The red headed man had watched as the emotion swam through her tired eyes at the mention of the man, noting that she looked almost desperate to find him. He nodded his head towards one of the buildings behind him.

“He’s in a briefing with Captain Winters and most of the platoon. There was a patrol last night, we lost Jackson. Think they’re planning another but I’m not sure yet.” The woman’s face had dropped at the mention of the young boy she’d come to know.

“Jackson. Well that’s a real shame.” Was all she could manage from her lips as she turned her head away to blink the tears back. “I-uh-guess I should head in and see what’s happening.” She continued, to which Malarkey nodded his head in understanding.

“Well, again, it’s good to have you back Y/N/N.” She’d managed a small smile back at the man before she set off towards the house, following the sound of Captain Winters voice into one of the rooms. She collected herself quickly before taking a quiet step round the doorway and listening in on the conversation.

“Which is why tomorrow morning you will report to me that you crossed the river and were unable to secure any prisoners.” The red headed man had said to the men, all of whom were oblivious to the missing woman who lingered behind them still in the doorway. Her eyes had trailed over them all carefully before landing on the mess of brown hair directly before her. She felt her chest lurch as she finally realised she’d made it back to them, to him, and though her arm hurt from her graze and head throbbed from exhaustion, she was generally okay.

“Understand?” Captain Winters had asked the men, who replied with nods and responses of yes.

“If I’m being honest, Sir, I don’t really understand.” She said loudly, startling all the men in the room, and she held herself back from chuckling as they jumped in fright. The room erupted in cheers as her platoon members realised who was standing before them, some jumping from their seats in surprise. She looked to Winters as he smiled happily at her.

“Lieutenant L/N. It’s good to see you.” He said to her, stepping towards her. Nixon stepped forward behind him with his usual dopey smile on his face, patting her gently on her uninjured shoulder.

“Y/N, you crazy, crazy woman.” She rolled her eyes at him jokingly before her gaze turned to the man over the intelligence officer’s shoulder as he stepped forward. He kept his face stern but she knew his facade was close to cracking as he blinked the tears away from his eyes and cleared his throat.

“L/N. Welcome back.” He spoke, careful not to break as he stared at the woman so intensely. The longer she looked at the man, the more she felt like running to him and breaking down in his arms, leading her to quickly look back to Winters.

“I believe we may have a few things to discuss, Sir.”

***

Y/N had spent the next hour or so filling her three superiors in on what happened before they too did the same for her, though a lot of this time was spent trying not to look at the man she loved as she felt the emotions hit her full force every time she did. She’d then been promptly sent off to the makeshift aid station to see Doc Roe upon realisation that she was still bleeding from her arm, likely having reopened the wound in her excitement. It was a good thing she was sent away too, as she’d all but stumbled over to the building, swaying on her feet gently.

Gene had set her up quite nicely with her own room to rest after cleaning and wrapping her arm. After giving her a new uniform and time to wash, he’d firmly told her that if she didn’t rest he would have to turn to extreme measure, god knows what that means, yet his threatening eyes were enough to get her to do so. She’d fallen asleep not long after he’d left the room, her gentle breathing the only noise in the room.

The woman had woken several hours later as she felt a hand stroking her hair. She opened her eyes and made eye contact with the man she loved, a groggy hum leaving her throat as she carefully reached for him. He smiled down at her, taking a hold of her outstretched hand and placing a kiss to the top of it. Upon further inspection, she came to notice the tear stained cheeks and red eyes of a man who had clearly been crying. She sat up slowly, a groan leaving her lips as her stiff body ached. After settling herself upright directly in front of him, she reached her other hand out to wipe the tears away. Ron sniffed quietly before nudging his face further into her palm, his hands still firmly grasping her other hand.

“What’s wrong, my love?” She said to him gently. His eyes flashed with pain and sorrow but also love and joy.

“I thought I’d lost you.” He replied, his voice no louder than a whisper, his grip tightening on her hand. “I thought you weren’t coming back. I’d held a little help but after the second day I just…I felt helpless. I couldn’t send a patrol, I couldn’t go myself, I couldn’t do anything dammit. All I could do was sit here and hope you weren’t dead in a ditch with a bullet in your skull. Oh god, I dreamt of it you know. I saw you, wide eyed and limp with a bullet between your eyes and I just…I couldn’t stop seeing it. And then you show up in that room covered in blood but with a smile on your face and I just…” Ron was spiralling by this time, the tears falling rapidly down his face as he leant further and further into Y/N’s touch. His usually bright eyes held such deep emotion in them as he felt like someone was releasing their hand from clutching at his heart. He moved one of his hands to grab at her cheek gently, his gaze taking in every detail on her face as he made sure she was really there in front of him. “I love you Y/N, so damn much. The pain that haunted me when I thought you were gone, it was so immense that I…Y/N I can’t breathe without you. And now that you’re back I hope I never have to again.” She smiled at him, her own tears slipping down her cheeks which he had been wiping away one by one.

Without another word, Y/N had moved to grasp the front of his uniform before pulling him forward. Their lips clashed intensely as they poured their emotions into one another, every feeling of grief, of adoration, of sadness, of rage. Ron had both hands on her face at this point while hers rested on his chest, her fingers clutching at his coat. Y/N let out a quiet hum satisfaction when one of his hands moved to grasp at her waist, pulling her closer to him as he smiled into the kiss. They’d pulled away shortly after, taking in the others slightly swollen lips and red eyes. They smiled adoringly at each other while holding one another as close as they could, Ron’s body now pressed into the bed with one of Y/N’s legs draped over his own. His fingers played with the ends of her hair as they continued to stare, savouring every moment they could get.

“I guess luck really was on my side when it brought me back to you.” She whispered gently.

“Oh no, if it had anything to do with getting you back to me, then luck was definitely on my side.”

#this hurt me a little oops #band of brothers x reader #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs #ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs imagines #band of brothers #ron speirs #also this is unedited and it’s 1:40am so it ain’t gonna happen I apologise

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