#ron speirs x sick!reader

[mads-weasley]

For Me

Ron Speirs x Reader

Masterlist

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

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

Warnings: none except for extreme fluff

(y/h/c) - your hair color

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I can do that. Go lay down."

"Ron-"

"That's an order, lieutenant."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're burning up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, hey, hey. Are yo-"

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

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

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

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

"Someone could see us!" She exclaimed wearily.

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

"Ron-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can you stay, p-please?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, Dick."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Are you surprised?"

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

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

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

[softguarnere]

would eat up anything with spears x a combat medic/nurse reader :)

Learn to be Lonely

Ron Speirs x reader

A/N: The way that I went feral upon seeing this request in my inbox. I immediately knew I had to commandeer it to add to my soft!Speirs agenda. Thank you for the request, Anon, and I hope you enjoy this! 💕

Warnings: sickness, mentions of war, the author probably confusing "lie" and "lay" (it is what it is; we're just going with it at this point)

Amidst all the chaos, it's the little pockets of peace like this that make you feel, just for a moment, like things could be almost normal again. Despite the fact that some of the Haguenau buildings that Easy has been quartered in have missing walls, are covered with a thin tissue of dust, and that the world perpetually looks as dull as an oncoming rain cloud, waking up before the men and sitting up at the kitchen table sipping on warm coffee provides a moment of what's as close to relaxation as you can get under the circumstances.

Eugene always arrives shortly after you sit down with your coffee. Neither of you talk much, but you're grateful for the company -- your thoughts become a little too loud if no one else is around, but something about your fellow medic provides a sense of comfort. Even when you do talk -- even when it has to be about the war you're both trying to forget for a moment, and the men, and how they're doing -- it's pleasant.

But this morning, something seems to be on Doc Roe's mind.

There's no denying that you're both observant; it just comes through in different ways. Whereas Eugene is quiet and enjoys people-watching, picking up on the men's little ticks and mannerisms, you're more outgoing, getting to know them and their thoughts and feelings on a personal level. It's what makes you work so well as a team -- you're able to compare notes and spot problems with them almost immediately. Which means that you can also spot problems with each other.

Eugene sits across the grimy kitchen table from you and takes a sip of the bitter coffee you brewed. His brow is furrowed, which wouldn't necessarily be unusual, but he keeps frowning into his coffee cup. Several times he opens his mouth slightly and draws a breath, like he's getting ready to say something, but then he stops himself and takes a sip of the coffee instead.

"Something wrong?" You finally ask.

His slender frame jerks as he looks up at you. He blinks. "Oh. No." He pauses. "I'm not sure."

You sip your coffee, waiting for him to continue.

His voice is quiet, like he's afraid someone might overhear him, and he looks almost puzzled when he admits, "I think that something might be wrong with Captain Speirs."

"Speirs? That's the last thing we need. First Lipton, now him . . ."

"Well, I'm not sure." Eugene frowns down at his coffee again. He shakes his head. "He's hard to read."

"That's an understatement."

"I noticed it last night, when most of the men were downstairs, joking around and playing cards. He stayed towards the edges of the room, and then I saw him slip out early and head upstairs. I assume he went to bed."

That in itself wouldn't be so unusual; Captain Speirs is a private person, and when Easy Company isn't in active combat, he's often more of a presence than a part of the group.

"I don't know," Eugene says again before you can point this out. "Something about him just seemed . . . different. Off, even."

"Maybe he was just tired," you suggest, even though you're not able to think of a single time during the whole war that you've seen the legend of a man anything other than alert.

"Yeah." Eugene agrees. "Maybe."

Voices approach the kitchen, and a second later, some of the men start shuffling in, roused and fortified by the smell of coffee -- however bad it may be.

"You checked on Lip yet?" You ask your fellow medic. And then your morning continues just like any other one.

--

Something is not right, you think to yourself as you watch Skinny and Liebgott march off in defeat, looking frustrated. It's the fifth time since that morning that someone has asked you if there's any chance that you know where Captain Speirs is. And, you have to wonder as you make your way towards the bedroom in the quiet corner of the house most of the company is quartered in, maybe no one has thought to do the obvious thing and check his room.

You pause just outside the door, unsure. You don't know Speirs particularly well. He's the Captain, yes, but he's more distant than other officers. Would he even want someone to check on him? Where others might see it as a gesture of concern and goodwill, someone like Speirs might see it as overstepping, you reason as snatches of rumors play in your memory.

No. You make up your mind -- you're a medic and it's your job to watch out for the health and wellbeing of these men. If he sees it as overstepping, then it's his problem. Your raise your fist and knock on the door before you can talk yourself out of it.

It's quiet, and slow, but from the other side of the door, you can just make out the sounds of movement. A moment later the door handle squeaks and a pair of dark, sunken eyes peers at you from the door's crack.

The door opens wider to reveal Captain Speirs, but not as you've ever known him. Whereas your Captain stands tall, alert, and ready to move at a moment notice, this man moves slowly, and keeps blinking, like he can't get his eyes to focus. Not to mention the shakiness in his hands as he opens the door.

"(Y/N)?" His voice sounds hoarse.

It takes you a minute to find your voice. "Captain Speirs, Sir. Are you okay?"

He blinks rapidly for a moment and then leans against the doorway. Even in the low lighting of the hall, his face glistens in a sheen of sweat. "(Y/N), I think . . . I think that something is wrong." He squints at you. "Aren't you cold?"

"No, Sir. Are you? You're sweating."

"Am I?" He sounds shocked, but his brow only furrows slightly.

"Captain, everyone has been looking for you all morning."

The Speirs that you know never would have been in a situation like this, you have to remind yourself, but if he had, he would have jumped into action the minute he realized something was wrong. But this Speirs doesn't seem fazed. Yes, you affirm, something is wrong.

Speirs shuts his eyes and draws in a deep breath -- or at least, as deep a breath as he can manage. You step forward and prod him with gentle hands, back into his room, back into bed. He doesn't protest.

"Sir, have you eaten anything today?" You ask as you cover him with a blanket. "Have you had anything to drink?"

He shakes his head. You had assumed as much. You're already planning a course of action for how to deal with this. Making sure that the Captain doesn't get dehydrated from isolating himself all morning is just another step in that plan.

"I'm sick, aren't I?" He asks when he sees you rummage through your medic kit for something to give him. Something in his voice is different than you've ever heard it. He doesn't sound defeated, exactly, but he sounds tired and . . . sad?

"I'm afraid so. You might have picked up Lipton's pneumonia. We'll have to figure out what this is so we can fight it."

Strong hands scrub themselves over his face as he sighs. "Hate bein' sick," he mutters.

You reach out and pat his shoulder -- without even thinking about it, just like you would for any of the other men -- as you assure him, "We're going to fix that."

--

What would you do without George Luz? you have to wonder. You've seen other men in Easy practically beg him for the chocolate bars and cigarettes being shipped in, only to be refused. But the second that you asked for an extra food ration and had only sent him a beaming smile when he asked why you needed it, he tossed one to you with a wink, and even gave you first dibs on some of the medicine that had arrived that morning. Being friends with the radioman in charge of supplies has it's perks.

Even though it takes a minute for him to pack some medical supplies into a box and asks you to take some to Doc Roe, you don't think much of it -- someone as private as Speirs probably isn't very keen to have you rushing back to play doctor in a space as personal as his room.

You're in such a good mood after seeing the shocked looks on the rest of the company's faces when Luz gives into you that you smile all the way to Lipton's room, where you know Eugene will be. You trade off some of the medicine Luz sent you with with a quiet "I found the Captain" before you head back.

You knock lightly on the door of Speirs' room before entering with the food ration and medicine, despite the fact that you know he's inside, and that he should be lying on the bed.

Should be.

He's sitting on the side of the bed, feet flat on the floor, hand on his knees and head bowed, looking fatigued.

"Captain?" You question.

"I thought --" he stops, swallows thickly. "-- I was going to look for someone."

"For who? Me?"

He nods. "I just . . . nevermind."

Well okay then. If it weren't for the fact that you were so worried about him, seeing him act so unlike himself might be a bit funny. Who would have thought that Ron Speirs, of all people, would be a person who would get loopy when sick? You would have imagined him to be someone who muscled through it.

Gently, you help him lie back down. You make sure he eats and you give him some medicine. You even give him gentle reassurances that he'll be better soon, just like the good medic that you are. But something stops you from leaving him and moving on to see if anyone else in the company needs looking after.

"Will you be okay, Sir?" You ask.

He shrugs. "Do I just stay here? And sleep through this?"

"That would probably be the most conducive to your recovery. No paperwork and overworking yourself like Sergeant Lipton."

You wouldn't be surprised if he protested, insisting that there are things to be done and that he's going to do them. Instead, he frowns.

"I'm quarantined in here by myself." Something about the way that he says it tugs at your heart strings. You're trying to decide if the sickness is causing him to act unlike himself or reveal something about who he really is when he says, "I hate being alone."

"Really?" There's no time to stop the surprise from slipping out. If he notices, he doesn't care. He only nods. "But everyone thinks that you prefer it."

Silence starts to settle over you like the dust that perpetually covers so much of the house's interior, but you decide to break it before you even really figure out why. "I could stay with you, Sir. If you would like."

He blinks up at you. "You would? You're not afraid of me like the others?"

He might as well have punched you in the gut, what with the way the sentiment lands. You're just as guilty as everyone else, thinking of Speirs as some sort of demigod who prefers solitude to human companionship.

But suddenly he's not that person anymore. He's not Speirs the Killer. He's not Speirs the Legend. He's Speirs the man. He's a man. And he's sick. And he's lonely.

And he seems like he really wants you to stay with him.

You perch on the edge of the bed and run your hand through his sweaty hair under the guise of checking his temperature. "Why would I be afraid of you?"

A hum of contentment escapes him as your fingers card his dark locks. His eyes flutter shut, but just before they can, he sighs, "Well, I'm glad you're not." And then he falls asleep before you can ask what he means by that.

It would be easy to leave. He's asleep and he wouldn't notice. There are other things you could be doing. But you said you would stay, and you have no intention of turning yourself into a liar.

Part of you wonders if he'll feel better when he wakes up, become embarrassed by what he admitted, and send you away. Something that you can't quite name stirs within you as you watch him sleep, and you find that you don't want that to happen.

However you two might feel about what has just happened is something you can deal with later. For now, you're content to just watch the legend -- no, the man -- look uncharacteristically peaceful while he sleeps.

#you want a fun fact? of course you do #it doesn't matter at all but it is important to me that you know #that this was originally going to be called Beauty and the Beast #but then I was like NO WAIT #and titled it after a cut song from the Phantom of the Opera #because that song was so good and FOR WHAT? why was it cut? #anyway #soft!speirs #ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers #anonymous #george luz #eugene roe #my writing #carwood lipton #band of brothers imagine

[now-im-a-belieber]

christmas after all

ronald speirs x reader 

a/n: surprise! @softspeirs​ im your secret santa! thanks to @hbowardaily this was such fun! i hope you’ll enjoy this gift and your christmas time is an absolute blast!

taglist: @ask-you-what-sir  @tvserie-s-world @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @snafus-peckuh @infinitegalahad  @heygeneyoucalledmebabe  @toffeetm @fanfictionappreciationalbum @thoughpoppiesblow @embersjanuary  @softliebgott  @televisionboy  @anderperrysupremacy

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The world turned fast and violently, and you grew to find yourself mixed up in a war at too young of an age. But like some sick joke, the holidays did not halt. They still approached as the calendar pages turned, and the day before Christmas was spent all too unceremoniously. You weren’t expecting fanfare in the middle of this battlefield of course. But deep down inside of your spirit, an innocent hope remained; that since the holidays were still dawning despite wartime, that somehow, it might feel like it.

Of course this seemed silly to realize. Hope was never useful in times like now. During war, moments settled in your stomach and ached in your chest. Weather burned your skin and deadened your nerves. Your limbs grew heavy and your hearing seemed heightened. Nothing much caught your eye, until you saw Ron. And that was when the first bit of dangerous hope started to bubble toward the forefront of your system.

Ron was enigmatic, a walking contraction in some odd way you felt only you could understand; but the guy had hardly ever been near enough to you for any of your predictions to prove sound or sane. His passing glance left a breath caught in your throat. His presence brushing past yours left you with a burning desire to follow fast in his trail. But Ron never seemed to notice you noticing him… Until, 

“Got a lighter?” He was right by your side out of the clear blue with his palm opened in your direction and his expectations waiting to be met. You clamored to find just the pocket your lighter had been hiding in, and you promptly handed the man the tool without another word exchanged. 

The shared moment played on a loop in your subconscious; and left you with even more questions for the man who seemed fond of leaving the answers about himself and his reputation up for interpretation. 

Time ticked on and Ron blended into the gradient of war time. He was a leader you were glad to follow. You would’ve been no matter what. And the thrill you let yourself feel when his eyes found yours through a crowd was sometimes the only warmth that you let spark through yourself, it kept you a little more alive. 

So it was either a Christmas miracle or curse, the way you’d been assigned to the same duty- to sit, and watch the horizon (together), hours before the sacred holiday commenced. 

The night was darkening around you, and the quiet seemed less threatening at hours like now. Even Germans needed their sleep. Even though you couldn’t really, you let yourself dream a little. Tomorrow was Christmas after all. But no one mentioned it, not as if it didn't matter but as if bringing up the potential mention of joy might spark extra doom upon you, a superstition. 

But then, Ron did. He could, he was immune to so many of wars effects. He carried the fears of others and seemed to thrive that way. So you couldn’t say you were truly surprised when he softly wondered in a whisper, what Christmas was like where you came from. His gentle voice carried through your ears like a song and you could nearly hear the smile in his tone. 

“We always go out and pick the perfect tree, one with a bit of charm, just the right size.” You recounted, gaze unfocused as your memory floated back to thoughts of the tradition. 

“Which would you pick out, now?” The soldier wondered.

You turned to Ron to consider his expression, it was blank to the passing glance but you saw the wonder in his gaze and the smirk ghosting his lips. You smiled considering his features and then turned to notice the trees around you as if you’d never really noticed them before. They had loomed over you and kept you safe, and now they reminded you of home. Good thing, too, since they were the faux walls that made up the home your company had made in the middle of this winter. They were too tall and wide and storied to have fit through any home’s door, and too respectable to string with popcorn and lighted candles. But you picked the smallest of them, one that's branches seemed to reach toward where you sat as if to say ‘choose me.’ So you did.

“That one.” You nodded in your tree’s direction. Ron followed your gaze and only then did he let his grin show. 

The two of you sat in shared quiet, glancing from the tree you’d pointed out back to the line far ahead from the foxhole you coward in now. Your mind had wandered to considerations further in the future beyond the holiday. Until Ron seemed to shift in his place at your side, and his peculiarly gentle voice rang in your ear once again. 

“Merry Christmas.”  The man held out a rolled up bit of fabric surly intended to bind a wound. A generous exchange in the middle of this frozen hell. But one that had not been prompted in the slightest.

“A bandage?” You wondered. 

“Unravel it.” Your fingers brushed Ron’s as you took his offer that rolled open with the slightest guidance. A cold metal clunked into your lap, and you didn’t have to wonder any longer.

“My lighter.” You laughed, turning to hold Ron’s gaze yet again. He’d already been looking at you. 

“I’ll think of a better gift next year.” He stated, making a blush burn your skin- because only he seemed able to bring you warmth in the bitter sting of winter.

“You’re a bold one, at long last.” You quirked a brow his way and couldn’t hide your stunned smile. He watched you all the same, the way he had been.

“I’d like to steal much more of your time and less of your things from now on.” The soldier declared, as the night stayed still around the pair of you, and snow drifted down from time to time. Because of Ron, it did feel like Christmas after all…

#hbowarsanta21 #band of brothers #ronald speirs #ronald speirs x reader #ronald speirs fanfic #hell it was queue

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Ignorance Is Blitzed (Part 7)

Ron Speirs x Reader

Summary: When you come into contact with some substance that makes you sick while on a routine building search, Ron realizes he may not be as emotionally detached as he’d thought initially thought.

Warnings: SMUT! YA GIRL FINALLY WROTE THE SMUT!, light angst, fluff, SMUT, Ron is a dom but he’s so into you he turns into a soft!dom, Reader is a mess, Ron is a tease, SMUT!

~

~ ~ ~ ~

Lewis Nixon was a dead man.

Even if Ron’s sudden (if not minute) PDA hadn’t clued you in to the fact that someone had told him about Nuremberg, the look of fear in Lewis’s eyes when you’d caught his gaze basically confirmed it.

 You’d mumbled something about getting some air to Ron as you watched Lewis hightail it out of there, hot on his heels as he tried to escape the wrath that you were sure showed plainly on your face.

He doesn’t get far.

 When you catch his elbow in what seemed to be the hotel staff’s dining room, he whines like a wounded animal and holds his hands up pleadingly.

 “I swear to God I, thought you’d told him already—”

“I’m going to kill you.”

Nix scoffed at that, despite the fear clearly paling his face.

“Okay, one- people were going to find out eventually. Two? How in the hell was i supposed to know that you hadn’t told your boyfriend—”

 “Not my boyfriend—”

 “—yes he is your boyfriend- about it? And three: and he doesn’t even seem to be mad about it!”

 You scoff at that, hands going to your hips as you stare at him in disbelief.

 “It wasn’t something for you to tell- if the news that I was being asked to go in hadn’t come from you in the first place, I’d never have told you either! No one was supposed to know—!”

 “What were you going to do, just dump him and disappear?!”

 Your rebuttal sticks in your throat, guilt flooding through your veins at the bluntness of his question.

It must show on your face, because Lewis furrows his brows and looks at you in disbelief.

 “No… Y/N, you aren’t seriously trying to tell me that you—?”

 “I was giving him a clean break. I am giving him a clean break.”

 You’d made the decision after you’d heard about Ron’s decision to stay with Easy and go to Japan, when you’d realized that neither of you were going to be going home anytime soon. 

In Ron’s case, he may not come home at all- and if you knew him as well as you thought you did, you knew what that would mean for the two of you. 

Hollow promises to keep in touch, followed by equally well-intentioned agreements to find the other when it all was over, both of you ultimately knowing in your heart of hearts that those commitments would inevitably fizzle out and die the moment the going got tough.

 You didn’t want that, didn’t want to trap Ron in something that was destined to fail from the get-go.

As much as he liked you, cared for you, you also knew who he was. What he would always be.

A ruthless, brilliant soldier, ready to lay it all on the line at the first opportunity. And you loved him too much to ever ask him to be anything else.

 He deserved to find happiness- even if it wasn’t with you.

 Nix looked at you pityingly, a forlorn look on his face as he digested what you’d said.

 “Look, I don’t know the guy well,” he mumbled, clearing his throat and taking a step towards you to rest a hand on your tense shoulder. “But anyone with eyes can see that you mean a lot to him.”

 You nod and offer him a tight smile, eyes drifting downward to avoid letting any potential tears come to the surface. “I know I do- I don’t doubt that. It’s not about how things are right now, though. We don’t get to live in the right now for much longer.”

 The hand on your shoulder squeezes at the muscle there, a small sound of admonishment escaping under Lew’s breath as you feel him watch you. He doesn’t like what you’re saying- you can tell that he wants to argue that you’re being ridiculous.

 But even he knows that it wouldn’t be of any use. It wouldn’t change your mind.

 “I don’t like the idea of leaving you here, Y/N. I’d bet if the others knew, they wouldn’t like it much either.”

 You sigh, biting the inside of your cheek as you look back up at him and nod. “Guess I’m breaking up with all of you, aren’t I?”

 Nixon’s eyes are shining, and you wonder if he’d be this upset if he were 100% sober. When you step into him to embrace him, he beats you to the punch and wraps his arms around you quickly, taking a deep breath that seems to make his chest expand to twice his size.

 “I suppose you’re right. Not that being dumped ever stopped me before,” he gives you a sad smile when he eventually releases you, giving your shoulder a final pat before taking his hands away. 

“Don’t be surprised when I show up at your window, drunk as a skunk and proclaiming my undying love for you at 3 am sometime in the near future.”

 As you open your mouth to reply, you see Nix’s focus flick to something past your shoulder.

Even if you hadn’t seen the fear on the man’s face, you still would’ve known that it was Ron.

 Because of course it would be him. 

 Gritting your teeth, you sigh and close your eyes. Dread tasted sour on your tongue as you turned your head to peer over your shoulder, flinching at the look of silent fury marring his handsome face. Sniffing, you force yourself to speak despite the tightness clenching at your throat.

 “You should go, Lew,” you say quietly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

 Lewis says nothing as you turn around to face Ron, the sound of his retreating footsteps barely registering in your ears as anxiety sends blood thrumming loudly in your ears. Ron’s sharp eyes make you feel impossibly small, and you think you can now understand what everyone else had been talking about for the past few years. Ron was scary. You did feel scared.

 “You and I need to get some things straightened out.”

 His words are clipped, and if he sees you flinch at the tone in his voice he doesn’t show it. You inhale shakily, realizing you had been holding your breath for too long and wetting your lips as you searched for the right words to say.

 Just as you open your mouth to speak, Ron turns on his heel and begins to stride off, and once you are able to unstick the soles of your shoes from the floor you trail after him cautiously. When you reach the doorway, you see that he’s stopped a few paces from the door frame, waiting. In a move that surprises you, he uncurls his hand from the fist it had been in and holds it out to you, eyes heavy and dark and trained on you.

 Quickly, you flicker your eyes between his face and his hand, only stepping forward and taking it after you’ve mustered up enough confidence that it wasn’t going to be something you regretted doing. You’d never had someone mad at you like this before, at least not for as intimate a reason as he was now. Of course, you’d never allowed yourself to care for someone like this before either- maybe this mortifying combination of guilt and heartbreak was normal.

 The moment your hand finds his, he turns away from you and starts walking again, and as you follow you realize that he’s leading you towards the room you both share. There's no softness in the way his hand holds yours, the grip firm and unyielding. It almost makes you feel like a child being pulled off for a private scolding from a parent.

You hate it.

 The journey to your room is both too long and not nearly long enough, and it’s only when he opens the door and releases your hand that you fear that you may never get the chance to feel his touch ever again. That reality was already one you’d been dreading, with him leaving so soon to go where you could not follow. The thought of that time coming sooner because of something like this was devastating.

 You stand in front of the door once it closes, ready to have him ask you to leave at a moment’s notice. Unblinking, you watch him shirk off his jacket and toss it on a nearby chair, shrugging the suspenders down from his shoulders with a spark of agitation. His hair has begun to fall into disarray, and the idea of him hating you while looking so unfairly handsome makes your heart tighten painfully in your chest. 

Unwilling to wait out the inevitable for a moment longer, you clear your throat at steel yourself.

 “Ron-”

 “You don’t get to hide that kind of shit from me.”

 He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, his voice quiet and uncomfortably devoid of emotion. As he walks over to the table that held a decanter of whiskey and fine crystal glasses to pour a drink, you tuck some of your hair behind your ear and try again

 “I was just trying to give—”

 “—give me a 'clean break', yeah. I heard.”

 Bringing the glass to his lips and taking a sip, you watch as he clenches his jaw and swallows.

“Did you ever think about asking me what I wanted?“

 That does throw you, and as he sets the glass down and turns to look at you you make no move to hide the look of confusion on your face. Glancing down at your shoes, you shake your head softly and try and find your voice once more

 “I- but you don’t want this. You don’t want to be tied down—”

 “And what makes you so confident that you know what I want, huh?” 

There's clear anger in his voice now, and you look up just in time to watch him walk over to you. You straighten as he comes to a stop right before you, hands braced on his hips as he all but glowers down at you. 

 “You don’t get to make those sort of decisions for me- got it?”

He emphasizes the bite on the ‘t’ in ‘it’, the puff of air from his breath hitting your face. 

 When you make to turn away from him, one of his hands flashes up to grip your jaw- his touch gentle but authoritative enough that you know it’d be a bad idea to go against it.  Something about the movement irks you, makes your heart beat faster from something much darker than fear or dread. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you tilt your head back infinitesimally. Defiantly. 

 Ron notices, his nostrils flaring slightly. “Last time I checked, you aren’t a mind reader- and even if you were, you’d be a shit one because if you think what I want is anything other than you, you really don’t know me at all.”

 “Stop it, Ron,” you mutter quietly, watching as his eyes flicker down to your mouth before dragging back up to meet your eyes again. “You’re being mean.”

 He exhales sharply at that, a ghost of a rueful smile quirking his mouth before shaking his head. 

“Am I?”

 When you roll your eyes, he steps into you even more, using his hold on your jaw to tilt your head back further so you are still able to hold his glare.

 “Like it or not, Y/N, you’re it for me- you got that? If you don’t want to believe me, that’s fine- but know that I’d tear this whole entire goddamned continent apart if you wanted me to—”

 “Why!?” you snap, his declaration bringing forth the sadness you’d managed to temporarily quell. 

 At the sight of tears refilling your eyes, Ron’s brows furrow and some of the darkness leaves his face. Shaking your head imploringly, you bring a hand up to circle his wrist. 

 “You could do anything, be anywhere with anyone you wanted! We….we’re just children, Ronald- and I love you but I’d never delude myself into pretending that I know the first thing about how to do this- any of this!”

You bring your other hand up to rest lightly on his chest, lowering your gaze to look at the slight tremble of your fingers as you do so. 

 “You were born for greatness, born to lead and fight and conquer….but all I was born to do was just exist for other people- like my parents or my family or whoever else needed something from me. Then, eventually, become somebody’s wife and give him a family. But….. I threw away any chance of that future in order to be here, and now that this is ending I have no idea what I’m supposed to do!”

 Swallowing in a vain attempt to keep your voice from breaking, you look back up at him, offering him a small, shaky smile.

“I won’t drag you down that mess with me, you deserve more than that- than me. I won’t ruin you, too—”

 “Y/N,” Ron murmurs admonishingly.

 “What?!”

 With an ease that you two had only just begun to establish, he seals his mouth to yours, effectively shutting you up and forcing you to take the first deep breath you’d taken in a long time. There’s an edge of desperation to it- just as there had been in your first kiss back all those months ago in Foy. 

 Only this time his lips taste like whiskey and something a tinge more wicked. 

A promise of more.

 Breaking the kiss but keeping his face close you yours, Ron brings his other hand up to cup your face. Brushing his thumb across your bottom lip, he eyes you softly.

 “Don’t tell me what I deserve.” 

Kiss.

“Stop telling me what to do.” 

Kiss 

“Let me conquer.”

 This kiss is filthy, his lips plush and confident and unafraid in their mission to leave you completely mindless. Ron has stepped so close to you that your head has tilted all the way back into his hands, his fingers purposefully twisting in your roots so he has more control over the kiss.

 Despite the fact that he’s never handled you this way before- you have no desire to ask him to slow down or be gentler.

You like it. You want more.

 When you whimper into his mouth, you can feel him grin briefly before sliding one hand down your back to fist at the material of your shirt and bunching it free from where it had been tucked into the back of your pants. 

 Up until now, Ron had been nothing but gentle when it came to you- and while you knew him to be dominant and ruthless in battle you’d considered what his temperament would be like as a lover. Clearly, the confidence translated. 

 You slide the hand that had been on his chest up and around his shoulders, your elbow hooking around his neck and pulling him closer. As you nip at his bottom lip, Ron hums low in his chest. The hand he’d had on the small of your back has moved down to grip at your ass, and with a quick peck he pulls back slightly.

 “Hold on,” he grumbles, and just as you open your mouth to ask for clarification Ron wraps his arms around your hips and lifts you so you’re having to lean into him, your feet stumbling across the floor as he turns you both and quickly walks the both of you to the bed. 

 He’s barely set you down before his hands find the hem of your blouse again, rucking it up your sides before your brain catches up with him and you tear it over your head. Your skin feels hot, and it feels even hotter at the feeling of Ron’s lips mouthing at the tops of your breasts as you fumble with the clasp of your bra.

 “Shit,” you hear yourself curse, hating your fingers for being so uncoordinated. Undeterred by the fabric of the bra you’d pinched from one of the homes the lot of you had been asked to secure a week ago, Ron bites softly at your nipples until they stiffen. When you finally unhook the fastenings, he pulls the cups of the bra down easily and continues his attentions.

 You curse again, head swimming at the realization that his own fingers have found the zipper of your pants and begun to pull it down. Carding your hands through his hair, you desperately try and calm your breathing while distantly realizing that he’s still fully clothed.

 “Ron,” you gasp, looking down your chest and meeting his bright eyes as he sucks marks down the valley between your breasts. “I wanna see you—”

 His hum is dark as he mockingly tilts his head at you, successfully pulling the fabric of your trousers down your hips until gravity takes over and it all pools at your feet.

 “You are seeing me,” he insists quietly, trailing his blunt fingernails down your hips until they catch your underwear and shucking them down your legs as well. When you frown he bites some of the skin just under your left breast, chuckling wickedly at the squeak of surprise you’re unable to hide.

 “Take your shirt off!” you nearly whine, your head falling back as he laves at the bite with his tongue. “You’re not being- shit….you’re being unfair—!”

 “Then do something about it.”

 You do whine at that, too frustrated to worry about being gentle as you take your hands from his hair to claw at his shirt- bunching and pulling at the fabric covering his back until you manage to get enough in your fists to pull it gracelessly over his head. Pure want has boiled your blood like a fever, with the only two thoughts in your mind being more more more and faster faster faster.

 Before you can work his shirt any further down his arms, he shoves you back unceremoniously onto the bed, quick to pull your hips to the edge of the bed before bothering to continue undressing himself. 

With a nearly comical desperation, you toe off your shoes, licking your dry lips as you watch the muscles of his torso bunch and lengthen as he strips the remainder of his clothing off- his eyes on you the entire time and his gaze doing nothing to calm the heaving of your chest.

 “Christ, look at you,” he says quietly, a clear note of pride in his voice. “Too pretty for your own good, aren’t you?”

 You blush at that, swallowing audibly at the praise and squeezing your eyes shut.

It all just was so much….

 When you open your eyes again, you moan at the sight of him kneeling before you and pulling at your legs until they were over his shoulders. As you start to sit up you are pushed back down again by his hand on your chest, the feeling of his breath on your sex robbing you of any speech capabilities you had previously possessed.

 “Just like that,” he commands gently. “Stay just like that.”

 Maybe it was because it had been a while since you’d had any sort of sexual intimacy with another person, or perhaps it had more to do with the fact that your previous sexual partners hadn’t been particularly invested in the act, but one thing was for certain:

 Ron Speirs was unfathomably good at cunnilingus.

 You could only gape stupidly at the ceiling with your mouth open in a silent scream of overwhelm as he took your clit between his lips and absolutely ruined you- his tongue and teeth and fingers tearing you away from reality with a nearly cruel proficiency. It was almost humiliating how effectively he dismantled your already tenuous sense of composure, and if you had any sense of pride left you probably would’ve hated him for it.

 He was making a mess of you, and he was doing it too easily.

 Feeling a sheen of sweat glisten your skin, you can only hold onto him as your body trembles- and it’s all you can do to keep your hips on the bed as your back arches and your body rocks.

 “Ron, please….I’m gonna cum—” you hear yourself choke out in warning, squeezing your eyes shut as something burning hot and sugar-sweet builds deliciously in your lower belly

 “Oh yeah?” you feel him ask, one of his arms hooking around your hips to help still you. “Want to bet?”

 Your eyes flash open

“What—?!”

 You nearly howl in fury when he takes his mouth away, instantly sitting up to watch in betrayed dismay as he curls two fingers inside of you and adds a new kind of stimulation- one that keeps you on that cruel precipice without offering you any sort of relief.

 He smirks up at you, and any affection you’d previously held for him is jeopardized by his clear mirth at the situation. 

 “Sorry, Sweetheart,” Ron says lowly, nothing in his voice conveying any sort of remorse. “But you don’t get to call the shots right now.”

 You open and close your mouth desperately, unable to decide which sort of response would get you what you wanted. A frustrated shriek slips out in the interim, and when his smile broadens you remove your hands from his hair and smack at his head.

 “Jesus Christ, Ron! What’s the matter with you—?!”

 “Do you have any idea how good you taste, Y/N?” He continues as if you hadn’t spoken at all, ducking down to place a greedy kiss to your sex before pulling back again. “To think you were going to have me leave without letting me get my mouth on the source….absolutely heartless—”

 “I get it, okay? Fuck Ron! What more do you want me to do?” 

 You wince at the addition to a third finger inside of you, the stretch adding the tiniest bit of ache to your horribly prolonged almost-orgasm. The forearm across your hips holds you down when you try to squirm in any direction in hopes of getting some more stimulation.

 “Apologize.”

 You widen your eyes at him, a scowl on your face as you look down your panting chest at him. “What?”

 Like the cruel bastard he is, Ron shrugs as if the solution to all of this has been obvious the whole time.

“Say you’re sorry, and I’ll make it all better.”

 Shaking your head, you hear yourself scoff. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

 You yelp as he turns his head to bite your thigh, fisting a handful of his hair to pull him away.

 Smoothing the flat of his tongue over the bite, he closes his eyes wistfully and sighs.

 “Close, but that’s not what I want to hear,” Ron says before tilting his head and looking back up at you, the tendons in his forearm pronounced as his fingers tirelessly continue their strokes inside of you.  

“Say it. Say ‘Ron, I’m sorry.”

 Biting the insides of your cheeks, you fix him with a glare and sigh with frustration.

“Fine! I’m sorry, okay? I’m really fucking sorry, Ron!”

 He purses his lips, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. You whimper as he slides his fingers out from inside you, but before you can think yourself victorious Ron uses those fingers to start rolling your clit- still keeping you on the edge while giving you just a hint of what you needed.

 “Goddamnit, RONALD—!”

 “Tell me that you deserve me,” he demands, his words taking on a gravelly tone. As you search his eyes, you see a heartbreaking shine of sincerity staring back at you.  “Say it and then I’ll let you cum.”

 Your throat is becoming tight, an unexpected wave of emotion hitting you and bringing tears to your eyes. The hand not currently torturing your clit squeezes your hip, and with a shake of your head you close your eyes.

 “I-I deserve you,” you acquiesce, feeling your lower lip threatening to quiver. “I’m sorry.”

 “Gutes Mädchen (good girl).”

 Your head falls back with a moan as he latches his mouth to you again, body bowing as he ruthlessly finishes what he’d started and destroys you- sending you spiraling into bright euphoria and letting you float in the heat of it. You’re suddenly thankful for the arm across your hips, for it’s the only thing anchoring you to the real world as you shake for him.

 “So perfect,” you can hear him saying, his voice now at your ear as you become aware of the press of his cock between your lower lips. “You’re the most perfect thing I've ever seen.”

 Whining pathetically, you tilt your head back and clutch at his back.

“Please,” you beg, eyelids heavy and gaze unfocused. “Please—”

 He doesn’t draw it out this time, quickly hooking his arm under your left leg and opening your hips so he can press himself inside of you. Still wrung out for your orgasm, you can only cry out softly at the feeling of him bottoming out, a broken sound of his own vibrating through his chest into yours.

 You’ve never considered Ron to be a particularly talkative person, so when he begins to babble it catches you off guard while simultaneously endearing him to you further.

 “I can’t believe how good you feel You surely were sent to ruin me God you’re such a good girl Better than I could’ve imagined Squeezing me so tightly I don’t want to be without you I want nothing else than this In what world would you think that I wouldn’t adore you I am yours entirely you ridiculous woman Shit I can feel you shaking Getting so tight Fuck do that again Are you going to cum again I want to hear you scream….”

 Too lost in his words, you don’t know if you actually screamed as you came again- but you do know that at some point you’ve turned your head and sealed your lips to his. His hips stutter as he cums with a breath shout, his free hand dancing up and down your side with a carnal desperation that you could understand but not replicate- not now.

 Because now you are well and truly wrung out.

 The weight of Ron’s body atop yours is welcome, and the sweet way he kisses you is almost too much for your fragile mind to process.

 “Y/N?”

 Ron’s voice is soft, and as you blink your eyes open you cannot help but smile satedly up at him. He looks beautiful, and the soft way he’s looking at you makes you feel beautiful, too.

“Hm?”

 He brings a hand to your face and smooths some of your hair behind your torn ear. 

“You weren’t born for someone else,” he says the words carefully, as if he is struggling with ensuring that they are the right ones. “But…. I’m starting to think that maybe I was. Or that, maybe we were…..Do you get what I’m trying to say?”

 Taking his face between your hands, you take a deep breath and let your eyes drift across his handsome face.

Lifting your head, you lightly press your lips to his and sigh.

 “Yeah, Ron….I think I do.”

 He deepens the kiss, pulling you with him as he rolls to the side and holds you against him.

 “Mo Leannan,” he murmurs into your hair as you rest your cheek against his chest. “Mo Chridhe.”

 You furrowed your brow, the words unfamiliar and in a language you could not identify. It was common knowledge that Ron spoke a passable level of German, but from the way his mouth wrapped around these words, you wondered if he was fluent in another language and had just never told you about it.

 “What did you say?” you asked softly, exhaustion having crept into both of your bodies and rendered you mostly immobile.

 Humming, Ron wraps the hand you’d rested on his chest in his and brings it up to his face so he can kiss your palm.

 “Later,” he says sleepily before lowering your joined hands to rest on his sternum. “I’ll tell you later. Rest.”

 And because you believe him, you do as he says and allow yourself to be swept away.

~ ~ ~

HELLO AND HI! This took forever and a day to write but only bc I overthought everyhting and got distracted by other shiny things SO WHOOPS MY B! Anyhoo- I love ya’ll and remember to hydrate!

Taglist: @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ @sunsetmando​ @ricksmorty​ @liebgotttme​

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs imagines #problematicfavesareproblematic

[mrsalwayswrite]

Murder Is Not On The Schedule (Ron Speirs x Reader)

So this is loosely based on a prompt I found on Pinterest about murder not being on today’s schedule and immediately thought SPEIRS! I also wasn’t feeling great this week so I wanted to write something lighthearted...ya know? So this is what my brain came up with. 

Warnings: some swearing, sexual tension (cuz i can’t seem to write Speirs without it...sorry?), my poor attempts at humor

Words:2500

Tag List: @happyveday​ @sydney-m​ @saritanotserena​

  The sound of mortars and 88s followed me as I walked into the room being used for Captain Speirs' office in Haguenau. Those same sounds should be terrifying but no one flinched anymore thanks to Bastogne. The office was in the back of Easy HQ, looking towards the river. All the walls and windows were still intact, even if the place was dreary and drafty, it fulfilled its purpose. 

 Speirs, who had been staring out the window in parade rest, turned around to lean back against the window and looked over at me. "Lip in bed?"

 "Yeah. Finally convinced him that I could handle it." I dropped down onto one of the two chairs. Both chairs were placed at the table which occupied the center of the room. 

 Lipton was an admirable man, second only to Winters himself. But Christ Almighty, he had to be the worst patient with his perpetual refusal to rest. I did not envy any of the medics who were diligently trying to take care of him. It pretty much took both myself and Luz to drag him to one of the cots in the back and me swearing in blood that if I needed help, I would find him. 

 And if I threatened him a little, no one needs to know, right?

 "Well, I appreciate you stepping up and taking over for Lipton while he is sick."

 I shrugged, already looking at all the paperwork spread out on the table. "He kept us together while in Bastogne. It's the least I can do. Besides, I used to be a secretary before joining up. It's not a problem."

 "Lucky us." He murmured, distractedly. One of his hands tapped a repetitive pattern on his thigh as he seemed to stare at nothing. 

 I knew there was to be a patrol tonight. A prisoner snatch. From what little I had overheard and observed, it weighed heavily on both Lipton and Speirs. My guess was all the names had not been chosen yet on who had to go. Glancing at Speirs, eyebrows furrowed just slightly, repetitive tapping, biting just the inside corner of his lip...he was working on the list in his head. 

 I could not help it as my eyes traced his jawline...his messy hair that looked so damn soft...those dark eyes that pierce your soul but also lit up like a beacon when amused. He looked like a rugged, dirty Greek god with an affinity for bloodlust. Even his hands looked perfect to hold my--

 You are here to help. NOT OGLE YOUR CO! 

 Even if he is pretty.

 Handsome?

 Gorgeous?

 Wet dream worthy?

 Whoa! Too much. Pull up, you buffoon! 

 With all my willpower, I turned back to focus on organizing the reports on the table and checking to make sure we had enough paper. Who knew the army used so much paperwork? Everything had to be documented. I could see why it seemed Winters never left his office...or Nixon. Without Lipton's help, I doubted Speirs would ever see his men. I absent-mindedly wondered if I should offer to help out more often. 

 Obviously out of the goodness of my heart and not to ogle the handsome devil currently before me. 

 Nope. 

 Several minutes later, there was a knock on the door. After Speirs bid them enter, two replacements stepped into the room. Their ODs were clean, helmets practically sparkled in the sunlight, eagerness written all over their faces. They did not carry the weariness from the Ardennes on their shoulders. They still looked like boys wanting to play soldier with the other neighborhood kids. All I could figure was they had gotten dropped off with the other soldiers returning from the hospital. 

 Both rapidly saluted Speirs, who only lazily saluted in response, still leaning against the window. 

 "Captain, sir." The shorter of the two spoke first, practically bouncing on his toes. "We were wondering if we'd see some action soon."

 The other one chimed in, a proud smile exaggerating his chubby cheeks. "Yeah, we heard a rumor there's a patrol. Sir, we're ready to get our rifles dirty by killing Krauts, sir."

 Christ. These two are greener than the Jolly Green Giant. 

 I quickly muffled a snort by turning it into a cough. It must have not been as subtle as I hoped with the side-eye Speirs gave me. 

 Speirs sighed, crossing his arms across his chest. "Your platoon leader will let you know. I suggest you head back to your OP… and try not to get hit by mortars or snipers on your way there."

 The two glanced at one another, seeming to remember that Nazis were just as likely to kill them. A necessary reminder. After another round of salutes, they hurried out and closed the door behind them.

 "Jesus Christ! If I hear those two asking about killing Krauts again, I'll shoot them both…. And murder wasn't on my agenda today."

 "Murder usually isn't on anyone's agenda." I murmured, making notes on a supply list. We definitely needed more ammo...and chocolate bars. There might be a mutiny if we did not receive more chocolate bars and cigarettes. 

 "No, it's on mine. Just not until Thursday."

 Wait….

 ...What?

 My head whipped up to stare at Speirs. I honestly was unsure if he was joking or serious. I mean, hell, we all knew the rumors about him. With his signature serious expression, he held my gaze, as if waiting for me to question him. I chose not to. Really, I believed him. He would be the one to throw a grenade near his men to get them to pay attention. Or get bored and sneak into the enemy's camp to steal their rifles or something just to mess with them.  

 Then I saw the twitch of his lips, forcing back a smile. 

 At that I laughed, shaking my head. "No offense, sir, but I think we need to find something better for you to do with your time."

 "Oh?" He tipped his head slightly, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Like what?" 

 Me.

 Shit. Don't say that aloud. 

 "Mmm…" I tapped my lip with my finger, pretending to think about it. "Preferably something other than terrorizing your men."

 "Ah, but it's fun. You should join me."

 I shook my head, not even trying to suppress the indulgent smile on my face. What had my life become? Here I was joking with CAPTAIN SPEIRS about committing murder…. for fun? Later I should question my sanity, but right now, I was more than amused to see him in this new lightheartedness. I had only ever seen him always stoic, poised, ready for anything in war. I found this new side of him only increased his attractiveness. 

 Damn it. 

 "What are you doing on Thursday?" He probed, still watching me with a hawk-like gaze. 

 I shrugged my shoulders, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible. If he was going to joke around, I felt I could return the favor. "Maybe I'm going on a date."

 "With who?"

 "Whoever can afford me, I guess."

 He laughed, widening my own smile. I had never heard him laugh before, and if I could admit it to myself, the world was missing out without that sound. He shoved off the window, to come sit on the corner of the table, one leg dangling off the side, almost touching the chair I sat on. "And what would a date with you consist of?"

 I thought back to before the war. Back before I was weighed down by pain and death. What my life had once entailed. "An elegant dinner at the best restaurant around. Pictures or dancing afterwards. I'm not picky. Then after all that, if I had a very good time, I might be tempted to bring him back to my apartment for some late-night drinks and, well, we'd see where it went from there. But don't tell my mother that last part."

 "Sounds like you've got it all planned out."

 "I'm a lady who knows what she wants."

 "Mmm…" He ran a hand over the stubble growing on his jaw. "I need to change my schedule for Thursday now."

 This information you are trying to process does not compute. Please try again.

 "You taking me out on the date?" I teased back, leaning back slightly in my chair. Mentally, I prepared for him to make a joke about killing whomever was taking me out for the company's sake or something along those lines, since the idea of him having interest in me was preposterous. 

 In one swift move, he shifted over so his leg was between mine allowing him to lean forward and hover over me. The air between us suddenly felt hot compared to the rest of the room. Those dark eyes scanned me, as if slowly undressing me with both the utmost care but also unbridled passion. "Yes. Though we might have to skip with the elegant dinner. I'll share the better parts of the K rations. We also might need to skip the pictures or dancing. But I am positive I can steal some of Nixon's Vat 69 and we can go straight to the late-night drinks. Of course, I'll be a gentleman and let the lady decide what happens after." He finished with a cocky wink at me. 

 Holy mother of-

 I was not ready for that. 

 I could only stare at him for a long moment. My body practically throbbed for him with the image he painted in my mind. The way his voice became so smooth and sensual. The peak of his tongue as he quickly licked his lips before speaking. Now he sat there, his leg dangling between mine, keeping me glued to my seat. Subtly, I tried to press my thighs together to alleviate some of the pressure building. Not that it helped with his intense gaze making my heart beat faster and his lazy smile telling me he KNEW the effect he was having on me. 

 Act cool. 

 Act cool! 

 Play it off! 

 I leaned forward, smirking. "Do you always offer to take your executive officers out on a date? If so, I can see why Lipton likes you so much."

 He chuckled, eyes alluring and heated. "No, not all of them. Just the ones that I've been admiring for some time." 

 Well shit. 

 Abort. 

 Abort! 

 Don't you dare, you've dreamed about this man before. Ride it out, you coward! 

 I blinked in surprise but before I could respond, he had already made his move. He leaned forward and braced his hands on the arms of my chair, hovering over me. His face now was only inches from mine. I was positive he could hear how fast my heart was beating. My lips parted, trying to encourage breath into my lungs that were struggling to send oxygen to my brain. His eyes drifted down to my lips and lingered there. As if in compliance, my own eyes glanced at his lips, how soft they looked, even slightly chapped still from our time in Bastogne. His hands slid ever so slowly further up the arms of the chair, stopping just next to my elbows. Now I could see the faint lines around his eyes. His hair slipped forward, calling my eyes upward. I struggled to not reach forward and touch it. To see how it felt with my fingers running through it. A soft chuckle had my eyes snapped back to his, as he watched me with an intensity that border-lined frightening and lascivious. 

 I gulped. "Captain Speirs…"

 "No," he just barely ran the tip of his nose over the shell of my ear. His hot breath caressed my skin. My eyes fluttered closed on their own accord; my body unable to handle the pleasurable sensation. He whispered into my ear, voice fully commanding and salacious. "No, you call me Ron when we're alone."

 Mission control. We are going down. I repeat we are going down in flames! 

 My underwear was not prepared for this! 

 "Ron." I liked the way his name rolled off my lips. If the quiet, sharp inhale from him said anyway, he liked the way it sounded too. Tilting my head just the slightest, I could look up into those dark, smoldering eyes. Our lips though...I could taste his breath on my tongue. I could feel the warmth from his skin radiating onto mine, turning me into a puddle of desire.

 Oh God, he smelled like everything that is beautifully masculine. Not the nasty, sweaty teenage boy but the pheromones that make your ovaries take notice and your uterus demands for something to be done with it. How was that possible? 

 "I'll...um, I'll make sure to add this to your schedule on Thursday." I whispered, almost able to feel his lips ghost over mine as my lips formed each word. 

 "Excellent."

 His hand trailed up my arm, setting fire to my nerves. Gently, he wrapped it around the base of my throat, his thumb rubbing a pattern into my skin. The whole time our eyes remained locked. His pupils dilated, desire coloring them and I wondered if mine looked the same. The small amount of air between us was thick with tension and salacity. My body screamed for me to drag him down and crash our lips together. To see if he tasted as good as he looked. My hands were stuck in my lap though. It felt like we were in a stalemate, unable to move forward, to take that next step.

 If something does not happen, I swear I will spontaneously combust! 

 Then someone knocked on the closed door. 

 .

 .

 .

 Dear universe. That was NOT what I meant! 

 With a sigh, he slipped his hand up to rub his thumb along my bottom lip for the briefest of seconds. I swear the regret coursing through my veins, I could see mirrored in his eyes. Ever so slowly he retracted his hand and leaned back, but stayed on the edge of his desk, his leg still between mine. 

 "Enter." He called out, only turning his heavy gaze from mine when the person stepped through. 

 First Sergeant Talbert walked in, opening his mouth then hesitated for a second as his eyes seemed to take in but not fully comprehend the scene before him. "Um, sir, there's a couple of replacements asking about a patrol…"

 "Oh, for fuck's sake!"

 I laughed at Speirs' pained expression. Quickly, I jumped to my feet and brazenly patted his chest, my hand lingering on the feel under my palm. "I'll take care of it before murder happens."

 "That's not till Thursday." He looked at me with a wry grin. His hand subtly reached forward to skim my hip before grabbing the edge of the table. 

 "Remember, you're busy now. Murder has to wait."

 "Fine. Friday it is then."

 "If you have the energy after." I winked at him. I only caught a glimpse of the hunger that flooded his eyes before I turned on my heels and headed out the door. The whole way out I could feel his heated gaze on my back, like his fingers were trailing down my spine. I shivered in anticipation for what it would really feel like. 

 I'll make sure he doesn't have the energy to terrorize Easy… I'm definitely doing this for their sakes… completely self-sacrificing… yep, I won't enjoy this at all. 

#band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #ronald speirs #ron speirs #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #ww2 #world war 2 #mzwrites

[marvelmymarvel]

Celebration?

Ronald Speirs x Medic!Reader

Synopsis: Your hair was everything to you. Partly because it took you so long to grow it out, but mainly because it made you feel feminine when surrounded by men. So losing it, would be devastating.

A/n: I’m sorry if you have short hair (I personally have medium length) but just imagine you have long hair! 

Ps: I know I write for Eindhoven a lot, okay shoot me. I love that scene, so many scenarios. So. Many. Ideas. If you’re getting sick of these... Sorry? (Not sorry)

The crowd... 

It nauseated you. The men pushed you along through the hoards of dancing and singing bodies as you scanned the crowd for his face. The face that always calmed you down and the man that belonged to that face that you loved the most. A woman touched your braid, causing you to recoil away in fear. 

Your hair was always something special to you, something that made you feel feminine and unique. “Je haar is zo lang en mooi” (Your hair is so long and beautiful) the dutch girl stated as she tugged on it softly, getting a feel of the thickness. You let out a gasp and yanked away from her, not understanding what she was doing or what she was saying. The girl’s eyes widened in fear that she may have upset you, not knowing that touching someone's hair in the states was a no-no. You were about to tell her off when Luz grabbed you by the waist and pulled you away, nodding at the lady to get going. You grabbed the braid she tugged and pulled it to the front of you, afraid of it sitting on your back where you couldn't see it. “Why the hell would she do that” you grumbled as you pulled the other one to the front, playing with the ends for comfort. George shrugged before pulling you through a break in the crowd where you saw him standing up high to see above the crowd. You sprinted towards him, calling out his name in pure happiness. 

But it didn't last long. 

An arm wrapped around your middle before you were hauled off your feet and towards a circle that was formed by the crowd. Your back hit the ground causing the wind to be knocked out of you. You scooted back towards the middle of the circle, eyes wide as the men and women chanted words down at you, but you realized it wasn’t only towards you. 

Looking down, you saw the women sobbing as the men sheared their hair off as if they were sheep. You sensed the vomit rise up in your throat as you then felt a strong hand grab your arm, yanking you up and onto your knees. You screeched out as the sheers came closer. “I’M AN AMERICAN” You screamed out in pure survival mode, his hands were tight around your bicep and you knew you couldn’t fight him off. You wriggled around and managed to fly forward and off your knees.

“LIAR” He screamed at you as he wrestled you back up, “THERE ARE NO WOMEN IN ARMIES” his broken English came out raggedly as he raised the sheers once more. You closed your eyes before screaming out once more, waiting for the cold metal to rid of what made you, well, you... 

But the cold feeling never came. 

Opening your eyes, you saw the circle of people around you had grown silent as they looked at the man that held you. At least, that's what you thought they were looking at, but really, they were looking at the man with a dangerous look in his eyes holding a gun to the man's head.

“Let my girl go... or I’ll blow your head off” 

His voice sent shivers down your spine and you felt the tears prick at your eyes. The man let you go and you collapsed to the ground, clutching your braids as you cried. Ron shoved the man away before stepping forward and helping you up. You leaned against him as he walked you through the crowd, one hand wrapped tightly and securely around your waist, while the other dangled at his side, holding his pistol loosely in its grasp. “Carry on” Ron called out nonchalantly before pushing through the crowd and towards the officers who watched him wide-eyed. 

Ron side-eyed them as he walked you towards a building, hoping to get your crying and distressed form at least a little calmer. Once the door closed behind you two, you sat on the table shakily, grabbing your mouth as you tried to silence the sobs. The braids felt heavy on your back, reminding you of what could have happened. Ron walked forward before moving your hands aside and cupping your cheeks tightly. 

“No one’s gonna harm you... Y/n...” he whispered out as he pressed his forehead to yours. You nodded before sniffling, it was really silly to be this upset over hair... But it was more than that.

It was your identity. It was what made you feel better about yourself when the mud was cacked all over your body. It made you feel pretty around Ron and it made you feel special. Losing that would have been devastating. 

“You know I would love you with whatever length of hair you had right? Long, short, medium, bald... I don't care Y/n... I love you for you. Not your hair.” You nodded at his words as you fell into his arms, clinging onto him like your life depended on it. So maybe your hair didn’t define your worth. 

It was him. 

Tags:

@hell-itwasyou  @desired-love- @privatebullshit506   @whatwouldidowithoutgeorgeluz   @etainlord  @longing-for-the-past-times @themostunstableunicorn  @joonflu   @its-a-polyglot @liebthots @liebgoth@xjustmenobodyelse @bandofbrothers-marvel-movies @higgles123 @uwurunicornuwur @heartbeats-wildly @daddyspeirs0  @roger-bang-the-drum @bandofmarvels

#ronald speirs imagine #ronald speirs imagines #ronald speirs #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers

[currahee-gal]

Can I request some soft Speirs?????? Pleaseeeeee????? ❤

Okay so this took a totally different turn that I first expected it to. Like at first I was like “yeah fluffy Speirs” and then I actually started writing and I was like “oh this took a turn”.

Home

Pairing: Ronald Speirs x Reader

Warnings: Angst, injury, blood, night terror, soft!Speirs, comforting

Word count: 826 (sorry it’s kinda short)

These stories are solely based on the actors from the Bamd of Brothers series, not the actual heroes

Strained cries for a medic can barely be heard over the blasts of artillery from overhead. Specks of dirt, snow, and splinters of wood hit the back of your neck and cheek as you run through the bombarded forest. Your chest was tight from your labored breathing. You felt like your heart was going to explode from your chest.

“Foxhole, where’s a goddamn foxhole?!” You thought to yourself. Finally, you find one and dive for it. Before you can reach safety, a blast knocks you from the air and onto the snow floor. 

You lie there for a moment, stunned. Your ears are ringing and your vision was blurred. After blinking a few times, you looked up at the tree line, or lack thereof. Above you was nothing but bombed out trees and cloudy skies.

You winced when you tried to get up, a sharp pain shooting through your core. You craned your head down to see a rather large piece of shrapnel sticking out from your right side. Next to you was a blotch of red snow, slowly growing larger.

In the distance, you can hear a voice calling for a medic. Now they were calling your name. They were getting closer and closer…

You wake up.

You sit up straight in your bed, gasping for air. You cough a couple times, feeling like someone had just punched you in the stomach. You hands grasp the duvet with white knuckles. If your fingernails were digging into your palm, your hand would be bleeding.

Ron was already sitting in front of you, wide eyed awake.

“Y/N? Y/N, look at me honey.” Ron whispered, a hand reaching to cup your cheek.

To him, you had been looking through him like a window. Your eyes were wide and wild, flicking every which way as you panted like you had just double-timed Currahee. When his hand touched your cheek, it was burning up. His other hand reached to touch your forehead, which was also warm with a sheen of cold sweat. His brows creased. “Y/N, look at me. I’m right here, baby. I’m here.”

You blinked a couple times, eyes finally focusing on his. A tear rolled down your cheek, which was quickly wiped away by Ron’s thumb. You sighed heavily, leaning into his touch. He leaned over to kiss your forehead.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t. Stop that.” He cut you off softly but firmly. He presses another kiss to the top of your head and pulls you into him. You wrap your arms around his middle, grasping at his sleep shirt for dear life as sobs started to bubble up in your throat.

“Was it the same dream?” He asked as he started to pet your hair. You nodded into his chest. He heaved a sigh and kissed the top of your head.

“I was back there…” You whispered, pulling away from him and slowly leaning back against the headboard. He sat in front of you, his legs moving to hang over the side of the bed as a hand rested on your knee. “Back in Bastogne.”

He nodded and squeezing your knee. Your left hand reached across your body to your right side. Your fingers started to trace the scar tissue through the material of your silk camosal.

“Ron, it was so real.” You look up at him to meet his charcoal eyes. They were staring intently back into yours. You took a moment to appreciate the moon creating a glowing silver halo around his ruffled hair.

“But you’re not there anymore. We aren’t there anymore. You’re here with me, in the states.” Ron scooted a little closer. He grabbed the hand that was tracing your scar to his lips, placing a kiss on your knuckles. He lowers your hand to rest in his lap as he started to fiddle with the engagement ring on your ring finger with his thumb.

You squeeze his hand tightly. “I thought I was going to die.”

“I didn’t.” He said simply.

“You didn’t?”

“God no, you’re way too stubborn to leave like that. You had too much fight left in you.” He crawled to his side of the bed and pulled your back to his chest. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close, burying his nose to the side of your neck. There he placed a kiss, tender and soft.

“Do you think you’ll be able to go back to sleep?”

“I don’t know.” You whisper. You glance at the clock on your bedside table. 3:09 AM. You groan a little, turning in Ron’s arms to curl into his chest. “I’m calling in sick tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” He hums, pulling you closer. You lift your head up to place a sleepy kiss to his lips. When you pull away, he smiles.

“Try and sleep, love. Okay? I’m right here. You’re safe.”

“I’m home.” You sigh. Your words make Ron’s heart flutter.

“You’re home.”

Taglist: 

@gottapenny 

#band of brothers #band of brothers imagine #bob #bob imagine #imagine #request #ronald speirs #ronald speirs imagine #ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs #ron speirs x reader

[justthinkingofwaystoavoidbusses]

MASTERLIST

Okay, so I’ve finally gotten round to making a masterlist for a post instead of a page for those on a mobile/the app! Hopefully all the links work out xx

Chris Beck x Reader

Sol 6: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12 completed

I’m Not Sick: x

Loopy: x

Pretend: x

Sudden: x

Satellites: x

Hall Mates: x

Now You’re Off To Outer Space: x

Miss This: x

Five Times, One Time: x

Ice Cream: x

Stargazer: x

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Lying Is The Most Fun: x

Frozen: x

Battlefield: x

Waiting: x

Positive: x

Annabelle: x

Burn: x

Inflicting: x

00:00:00:00:00:00:00: x

Patient: x

Power: x

Secret: x

Science Fair: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11 completed

Sew Me Up: x

Assassins: x

Ow: x

Changed: x

The Park: x

Destined: x

Unremarkable: x

I Sort Of Like You: x

Warm Water: x

Wish We Could Turn Back Time: x

Familiar Lines: x

Burgers and Coffee: x

Cat Of The Shire: x

Short And Bitter, Like An Espresso: x

Close Call: x

Calm: x

It’s Getting Hot In Here: x

People Look Up To You: x

Alone: x

Est. 1954: x

Anything Less Than Perfect: x

Stressed: x

Reasons You Love Bucky Barnes: x

Reasons Bucky Barnes Loves You: x

Sebastian Stan x Reader

Broken Pieces: x

Bedtime: x

Lionheart: x

Bad Day: x

Let It Snow: x

TJ Hammond x Reader

Saving Him: x

Camping: x

Powder and Wine: x

Eventually: x

Stay Home: x

Cough Syrup: x

Stay Home: x

Bar Fight: x

Anything For You: x

Twin Vampires: x

Bokeh: x 

Jack Benjamin x Reader

Butterflies: part 1, part 2, part 3 discontinued

Jefferson x Reader

Mad: part 1, part 2 completed

Dark Curse: x

Steve Rogers x Reader

Fight For Me: x

His Rock: x

2040: x

Chris Evans x Reader:

Don’t Run Away: x

Gifted: x

Mark Watney x Reader

Left Behind: x

Peter Parker x Reader

Combat Boots: x

Plain and Ordinary (not x reader): x

Miscommunication: x

Rocket x Reader:

Pulled Apart: x

Sam Winchester x Reader

Didn’t You Die?: part 1, part 2 completed

Beacon: x

Book Worm: x

Pining: x

Family Friends: x

Flight or Fight: x

Dean Winchester x Reader:

Protector: x

George Luz x Reader

Pick Up Line: x

Found You: x

Realisation: x

The Local Pub: x

Captain WAC: x

Excuses: x

Flyby: x

Goodbyes: x

Trains: x

Letters: x

Bonded: x

Delayed Flight: x

Does The Sun Have Feelings?: x

Don Malarkey x Reader

Fling: x

Helping: x

Astoria: x

Eugene Roe x Reader

Star De Cinéma: x

Medicated: x

What Are You Doing Here?: x

Joe Liebgott x Reader

Win Some, Lose Some: x

The Bakery: part 1, part 2 completed

Carwood Lipton x Reader

Marching Forward: x

Babe Heffron x Reader

Just Passing Through: x

Joe Toye x Reader

Legs Aren’t On The Criteria: x

His Loss: x

Bill Guarnere x Reader

Joyride: x

Floyd Talbert x Reader

Don’t Joke: x

Ronald Speirs x Reader

Mirror: x

You’re Crazy: x

Dick Winters x Reader

Diner: x

David Webster x Reader

Together: x 

Dating Would Include

Bull Randleman: x

Skip Muck: x

David Webster: x

Shifty Powers: x

Ron Speirs: x

Joe Toye: x

Richard Winters: x

Lewis Nixon: x

Floyd Talbert: x

Eugene Roe: x

Joseph Liebgott: x

Bill Guarnere: x

Carwood Lipton: x

Avengers Fics

Indestructible: part 1, part 2, part 3, epilogue completed

Band of Brothers Fics

Playlist: x

Military Ball preferences: x

Leckie x Vera Fics

Promises: x

Destiel Fics

Blind Eyes: part 1, part 2 completed

The Dance: x

Passer By: x

#masterlist #mobile masterlist

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Ignorance is Blitzed (Part Two)

Ron Speirs x Reader

When you come into contact with some substance that makes you sick while on a routine building search, Ron realizes he may not be as emotionally detached as he’d thought initally thought.

WARNINGS: Some overthinking handsome deathwish prince, some potty words, he makes you nakey but it’s to save your life so NOT SMUT YET KIDS BUT SOON

The shot the doc had given you only confirmed what the SS prisoner had tried to communicate to Bull in broken English- the nazi’s were giving their footsoldiers amphetamines as stimulants and aggression boosters.

Ron supposed that he should feel some comfort in that- that it hadn’t truly been poison or some aneurysm of some kind that had left you this trembling and sick mess on the mattress before them.

But you still were hurting, still sick and trembling and miserable despite Doc insisting that the drugs he’d given you ensured that you weren’t in any discomfort. He knew better than to fully believe that- sure, you may not be getting violently ill at his feet anymore, but that didn’t mean you were anywhere near okay.

When you’d stumbled from the building he’d thought at first you were drunk, your steps staggering and your knees buckling like some crumpling marionette. He didn’t think he’d ever seen you so pale, and the haunted, terrified look on your face made his heart turn to stone in his chest when he’d caught it. 

He may not have known you and been your friend as long as Bull or Nix or Grant or even that squirrelly kid Christenson, but the idea of something taking you away from the world had become unacceptable somewhere between New York and Normandy. 

Your friendliness with Grant and Nix had brought you existence out of Ron’s peripheral and into his direct line of sight, and when you’d masterfully articulated the most effective way to refit the Allies-issued rifle with stolen parts from the German’s more advanced weaponry, you’d made it clear that you were not to be looked over just because you were easy on the eyes.

Which you were, and as much as Ron hated to admit it he had caught himself admiring you from across a classroom a time or ten while in Georgia. He just was better at hiding it than all of the other idiots who you would catch gaping at you.

You were easy to like, even for someone as prickly as Ron knew himself to be- strong and sincere and friendly and so fiercely loyal to the group of idiots you affectionately called ‘your boys’ that, even when he actively tried to dislike you, he couldn’t seem to manage it.

Not that he’d ever told you as much. Obviously. That wouldn’t do.

Or, it wouldn’t have done— to be more accurate.

Until now, he was fine with your strange friendship of comfortable silences and shared looks of reassurance and private jokes followed by even more private grins. You just seemed to fit, not like you’d filled a missing space, but more like you just seemed to...complement him.

And he was content to just remain that way— a dark and brooding shadow to your beautiful, blinding light. 

But now, having had a taste of what it would feel like to have your brilliant light nearly snuffed out? He felt ….threatened, something you had once teased was the most dangerous weapon the battalion had at its disposal. 

“God help the son of a bitch who ever cuts you off in traffic, Ron Speirs. If science can ever figure out what makes you tick, they should bottle it and sell it for profit….��

The memory seemed horribly ironic now.

You, you’re what makes me tick.

Even as you’d laid there shaking like a leaf, he’d been unable to see you as anything other than beautiful- a wounded Nike in army green.

Well, you had been in green— after about an hour of rest you’d sweat through your jumpsuit and in order to cool you off Ron and Roe had had to cut your layers away until you were left in your sweat-soaked undershirt and underpants. 

Of course, the perspiration on your skin had instantly cooled and sent you into a violent fit of shivers that only ceased after Ron got sick of watching you suffer and he’d forced the young man to help him carry you to the closest source of hot water and clumsily held you in a warm bath until your shivering subsided to an occasional twitch of your hand or foot.

Ron had never sat in a bathtub with another person before, but he figured that if he were going to it, it may as well have been for you. 

Your head had been heavy on his shoulder has he’d held you against him, the only sign of your wakefulness being your occasional grumble of Is it raining? or if you’re going to kill me just do it already or Ron I’m sorry I fucked up.

Roe had said nothing about how Ron rocked you in his arms whenever you tensed or shivered, nor did the medic seem to give off the impression that he found your symptoms surprising for someone in your situation, which filled Ron with relief.

“Y/n’s body hasn’t come into contact with methamphetamine before, if i had to guess. A lot of what we saw was her body doing what it’s supposed to do in order to get it out of her system….doesn’t look good, but it all this means everything’s doing exactly what it’s meant to….”

At least you weren’t dying. 

Each day that passed brought them one day closer to going home, closer to getting to go home where he didn’t have to worry about his friends and brothers getting killed the moment he let his guard down. Ron wasn’t sure if he believed in destiny, but he’d decided long ago that you and he were going to survive this whether you wanted to or not.

You were fucking with his plans, getting yourself hurt like this.

If he didn’t know how badly you were going to beat yourself up about making such a mistake, he probably would've been angrier about the whole thing.

But here, now? Ron couldn’t find it in himself to feel anger, not for you.

Never for you.

Roe had left him to watch you after your temperature had stabilized and the two of them had dressed you in some of Bull Randleman’s cleanest boxers and undershirt. You’d only stirred a few times since the initial injection and when you did Roe had made it clear that you were to be hydrated.

So there you were, back on the lumpy mattress in between Ron’s legs with your back against his chest, sipping from his water canteen while you apologized for maybe the hundredth time for something that wasn’t your fault (and even if it had been, he wouldn’t have blamed you for).

He watched you with soft eyes as you lowered the canteen and took a deep breath, another wave of something unpleasant washing over you that he couldn’t see, couldn’t ease for you.

“Do you need to get sick?” he asks quietly, but you’re shaking your head before he can finish.

“No, no. Just dizzy.”

Your tired gaze finds his face over your shoulder and you seem to study him for a moment, chapped lips parting a few times as if you want to say something, but the words seem to die on your tongue.

He lets your eyes trail over his face, taking a moment to take in your closeness as well.

“They’re gonna think we’re sleeping together.”

Your words surprise him, the amount of apology in your tone making his chest ache. You sigh again, looking at his canteen in your hands and working your jaw.

“The replacements, no matter what company…..they said it about Nix in Toccoa and Bull and Grant since Normandy. It’s….I’ve gotten used to it, but—”

“Let them.”

You freeze at that, and when he whispers your name he swears he’s never seen you look so shy.

Ah hell, he’d done stupider things than tell a girl he liked her. 

And if anyone deserved his honesty, it was you.

He shrugged casually, taking the canteen from your hands and leaning over to set it on the floor. The action brought his face closer to yours, and when you didn’t flinch away or look unhappy he gave you a look he knew you’d be able to see as genuine, even if to anyone else his stern expression hadn’t changed.

“Ron,”

“Y/n.”

You look as if you’re about to argue more, but with one more look at him you nod slightly.

He’s not sure what you’re nodding for,and he isn’t sure that you know either, but it feels as if you’re agreeing to something he’d been hoping you’d say yes to.

“I’m scared I won’t wake up.” you admit quietly, and when he pulls you back against him you follow so beautifully he almost kisses you. Almost.

He settles for tucking your head under his chin, and when you relax against him he feels privileged. 

“I won’t let that happen. You’ll wake up—”

“Why?” you ask softly, and Ron hopes that this is the final wave of exhaustion your body has to endure. 

He knows you aren’t just asking about why he won’t let you die in your sleep, and he has to think for a moment before finally the answer comes to him as easy as breathing.

“Because, I just do.”

You fall asleep shortly after that, your fingers laced with his in a light hold that he was reluctant to break.

 When Bull and the Doc come by a few minutes later, they find the two of you curled around each other like ivy and both sound asleep.

The two men stare at the scene before them for a few moments before Roe makes a sound of surprise in the back of his throat. “Well, I’ll be….I didn’t necessarily see this coming.”

Bull barks a laugh, too relieved that you’re looking so much better to share the man’s stunned awe. With an approving nod, he nudges Eugene with his shoulder.

“C’mon, Doc. Let’s let em have an hour, unless you wanna be the one to wake up Sparky over there and let him know you approve—?”

Roe is out of the room before Bull can finish the offer, and with a grin the large man pops his cigar between his teeth,

“Good for you, kiddo.” he says under his breath, a grin on his face as he quietly shuts the door behind him.

An hour wouldn’t hurt.

(WOO HERE IT BE, THANK YOU FOR READING MY RAMBLINGS AND I LOVE YOU GUYS)

TAGLIST: @itswormtrain 

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #it's vv bad but I'll just add it to the pile of already burning garbage pile that is my bibliography

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Ignorance is Blitzed (Part Three)

Ron Speirs x Reader

Summary: When you come into contact with some substance that makes you sick while on a routine building search, Ron realizes he may not be as emotionally detached as he’d thought initially thought.

Warnings: war-typical violence, a (literally) dashing nightmare magpie prince, potty words, angst maybe?, a few ocs but don’t get too attached bbs, a very sad attempt at witty dialogue ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

If you weren’t convinced that Dike was moments from getting himself, you,  and the rest of Easy killed, you would’ve sworn that you were going to kill him yourself.

At least if you shot him, it meant that someone who actually knew what they were doing could take his place, and that meant that something like this would never happen again.

There may not be an Easy Company left to save, in a few seconds….

You, Christenson, and a few replacements had found cover behind the shell of a truck, a few yards up the field from the hay bale you knew Dike to be hiding behind. 

“What in the fuck is happening over there?” Christenson shouted, the replacements trying their best to hold cover while the two of you desperately tried to figure out a way to get somewhere more tactical to alleviate the fire currently being hailed upon all of you like some biblical plague.

“Dike’s being a pussy!” one of the replacements replied before a bullet dinged him in the helmet and he cursed pitchily. “Why isn’t anyone doing anything—?”

You could hear shouting from the hay bale, so you knew your friends over there were still alive and trying to do something.

If we stay here, we’ll die before we can even try to do something helpful.

“What’s CP doing?” you shout to the replacement on your left, grabbing his vest and pulling him down out of the line of fire. “Use you binoculars—!”

With (understandably) fumbling  hands, the young man brings the apparatus to his face and scans the tree line, cursing aloud each moment that passes and he can’t see them.

Anxious energy has you so keyed up your body is trembling, but you know that if you rush him it’ll just stress him out and make it worse.

“Good job,” you say, even though both you and he know that he hasn’t really accomplished anything yet. “I’ve got you covered, just let me know whenever—”

“Got em.”

Both you and Chistenson share a look of minute relief. So far, this was the first thing about this godforsaken day that had gone right.

At least the lot of you hadn’t been left to die.

“What do you see, Nelson?” the other replacement, Grante with an ‘E’, called as he reloaded his gun. “Does it look like they’re on the radio—?”

“Winters is coming—no, wait!”

You spot a runner for the Germans from your peripheral, and without hesitation you take aim and subdue them. 

Six months ago I would’ve shot to wound….what would my family say if they saw me now?

They’d have to talk to you first, and you weren’t sure if that would ever happen again.

“Oh, shit…..it’s your boyfriend—”

“What?!”  

You squint stupidly in the direction of the trees, seeing nothing but suddenly terrified at the prospect of having to watch Nix or Bull or Grant (or whoever else these dicks you worked with decided you were sleeping with) get killed in their stupid attempt at bravery.

Unless he means….

You watch someone burst through the smoke of a target-missing mortar blast, charging like some avenging God of War towards the hay bale shrouding Dike, Lip, Luz, and however many more of your friends were trapped behind before disappearing.

Ron Speirs, you goddamned psychopath.

“Fuck.” you bit out, turning to Christenson and getting his attention. “Any sign of I Company?”

The four of you initially had been part of a bigger group, and your aim had been to hook up along the outer fringes with some of I Company and create a perimeter from which the Nazi soldiers would be unable to escape or send for reinforcements. 

Christenson nodded. “They look like they’re waiting on us—”

“Yeah, well tell ‘em to get in line!” Grante barked unhelpfully, his voice cracking and reminding you just how young he was. “We’re waiting on us, too!”

You hear a shout of your last name, and when you look back to the hay bale you see that Ron and Lipton are waving to get your attention.

When you meet Ron’s eyes you see the fire of battle raging inside of him, and you can’t help but feel relief that Dike was no longer in charge of your fate.

Using hand signals that had been drilled into your head ever since Georgia you tell him and Lip that five of your party are down, but you have eyes on I Company and just need the okay to hook up with them.

You watched as the two men spoke to eachother, and when they turned away from you you imagined they were relaying what you’d said to Luz so he could let Sink know your intentions.

After a few moments, Speirs tells you with quick and precise motions that you are good to go— he has cover fire arranged for your group so you can dash the final 200 yards into the building you knew housed I Company.

You shoot him a thumbs up before turning to Christenson and nodding excitedly.

“Ready, kids?” you ask, and when they voice their readiness you make a dash for it, leaving the shell of protection the car provided behind and running as quickly as you could towards the bombed out farmhouse, the sound of heavy breathing letting you know that at least Christenson was right behind you.

You don’t look back, can’t look back- all that mattered right now was forward and careful and shouting “flash FLASH FLASH!”

The call of THUNDER preceded you and Christenson all but throwing yourselves through the doorway and into the arms of the five I Company men you’d arranged to meet.

“Fuck, where’ve you been?!” one of them is shouting in your face, and you glare at them qyuickly before looking to where a blood-speckled Nelson is gasping for breath in the doorway. Grante was nowhere to be seen, and one look from Nelson told you that the younger man hadn’t made it.

“The salon, getting my hair permed.” you deadpan to the rifleman, finding the CO and shaking his hand.

“Where do you want us?”

He nods and waves Christenson and Nelson over. “Just this way, ma’am….”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

“Ho-ly shit.”

You look up at the I Company CO (Parker, you remember quickly)  parts of a jammed machine gun between your legs as you desperately attempt to fix Nelson’s weapon.

“What?” you ask, fingers moving faster than your mind can keep up with as you quickly dislodge the shrapnel from the chamber of the gun and begin putting the thing back together on reflex.

You had been holding the line for the past hour, and for that hour the same question had been on everyone’s mind. “Tanks? Did we miss a runner—?”

Where the fuck is the rest of Easy? They should’ve been here by now to check in….

When the gun is reassembled, you shove it into the replacement’s hand and move to see what has Parker so excited, hoping beyond hope that you’d see the faces of your friends rushing to meet you.

To your horror, you only saw one face, and it happened to be the face of the man who made a point to be the one who woke you up each morning with a full canteen and the promise of breakfast.

Of course it’s going to be someone important to me, my…..whatever it is he is to me.

 “Where’s everybody?” Christenson shouted, an unfazed Ron breezing past him to quickly grab the ammo and sling it over his shoulder.

Ron goes straight to the CO and starts talking to him in harsh tones under his breath, yet his eyes still search the room until they find yours.

He’s okay, he’s safe and he’s here now. It’s okay.

You give him a nod before moving on to the next jammed weapon that had been shoved into your hands wordlessly by Christenson after he takes one of the German ones from a body next to him.

Fucking Dike. He’d have us fighting with slingshots and pebbles if it meant he got to stay warm at the CP. Half of us didn’t even have weapons until Bill and Babe started repossessing the Army’s shit. If we survive this, I’m going to kill Dike, I swear to God….

You fix the gun, glad it was only a minor fix that was needed this time. When you look back to Ron, he’s tightening his helmet on his head and looking back the way he had just come.

Goddamnit. Of course he’s running back into danger. He’s Ron fucking Speirs.

You shake yourself from your stupor and quickly rush over to him as he picks up the last of his things and prepares to go.

When he looks up at you, you shove the rifle you’d taken off the corpse of a German you’d come across on your last scouting mission into his hands and take his standard issued one away.

“Take this one,” you say breathlessly, as if you were the one who had been running. “It holds more rounds and shoots cleaner.”

He nods, eyes wild with adrenaline as he scans you over for any sign of injury.

“You good?” he asks, and you nod and try to shrug casually.

It’s hard, you are also nearly vibrating with adrenaline and nervous energy.

“I’d ask you the same, but clearly you’ve got a death wish, so—”

Before you can finish chastising him, his rough hands come up to grip your face and he smashes his lips to yours in a rough kiss that’s nearly bruising in its force.

Oh...OH. Oh shit!

You inhale sharply through your nose, head tilting back as he steps into you and puts his hands on your shoulders and squeezed.

You gape at him stupidly when he pulls back and feel the blood rushing to your cheeks in surprise at his boldness.

You hadn’t been kissed since long before Georgia, hadn’t wanted to be kissed or coddled or shown too much affection because in your relatively short life, you’d come to know unreserved compassion as a weakness. 

“Love is nice but it isn’t reliable. Life isn’t a fairytale, sweetheart— everything has a price.

Nothing can hurt you if you don’t let it matter in the first place….”

Well, Mom— I’m doing my best, but I just don’t know if you’re right about this one, not this time….

Ron smirks down at you with such a self-satisfied look you smack him lightly on the chest on reflex rather than due to any actual upset.

“Yell at me later.” he offers when you open your mouth to speak, and with one more quick, breath-stealing kiss he’s gone again, running into enemy fire far too casually for your liking.

When you turn to watch him go you catch Christenson staring at you, a similar expression of shock on his face.

Ok, so I didn’t dream that, that actually happened.

You have to literally shake your head in order to get through the surprise, and when you do a weird pit of anger forms in your stomach.

That fucker better live, because he can’t just do that and run off.

You square your shoulders and grab the newly repaired gun at your feet, going to the hole in the wall and shooting at anything that looks as if it may mean Ron Speirs any harm.

He rolls over a stone fence, and you can’t help but shake your head.

He’s fucking with my plans, that son of a bitch. 

“So, uh….that was—”

“Shut up, Christenson. Just…. shut up.”

You hear the hitch of a chuckle from his direction. 

“Bull will be happy—”

“Shut. The fuck. Up! Keep shooting, you damn fucking child….!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Ask him how far away their backup is.”

You nod to Dick, dutifully repeating the question to the bruised and bloodied german soldier who sat before a group of you after his comrade had identified him as his superior officer.

You listen to the mumbled reply and nod. “About three hours by foot, an hour if you cut through fields.”

“Ask him for a number. How many miles? How many villages?”

You press him for specifics, but he just spits bloodily at Dick’s feet before calling him something you couldn’t fully translate (but assumed was insulting).

“I’ll take it that’s a no on getting specifics.” Nix smirked, stepping to the soldier and grabbing him bodily by the arm. “I think battalion’s gonna love you—”

You squeeze your eyes shut as Lewis leads the captured man to a truck where the others are waiting to be transported back to wherever they’d set up HQ, pinching at the pressure point at the top of the bridge of your nose in a vain attempt to ease some of the pain of your stress headache.

“Headache?” Winters asks, and you instantly lower your hand and straighten up.

“Nothing I can’t handle.” 

He chuckles at that, giving you a knowing look. “I think you and I both know you could lose a limb and still insist that you’re fit for duty.”

You scoff a laugh. “I suppose it would depend on which limb…. and what duty, Sir.”

He looks at you with all the exhaustion of a first time father, and you laugh in earnest.

“Go see someone if it gets too bad.”

“Sir.” you nod.

You smile as you watch him walk away, catching up with Nixon and falling into step with the man easily.

How I got accused of screwing Nixon and Winters hasn’t, I’ll never understand….

Turning to look back at the war-torn downtown, you catch Grant’s eye and he waves you over.

By the time you get to him, you find that he isn’t alone.

Leaning against the wall beside your friend is Ron Speirs, looking far too at ease for someone who you had spotted running through enemy tanks not an hour before.

“Heard you had an exciting day!”

You freeze, eyes widening as you feel yourself blushing again. 

Shit. SHIT!

“Oh, I….um—”

“I was telling him about the car you hid behind,” Ron supplied mercifully, and you feel relief so instantly that you have to brace a hand against the side of the building in order to catch yourself.

“Oh, yes! That exciting part of my day.”

Chuck looks at you strangely for a moment, bringing a hand to your forehead and holding it there.

You roll your eyes and push his hand away, smacking at it again when he tries to repeat the action. “Charles—”

“Grant, Tab!” 

The three of you turn towards the direction of Malarkey’s voice, the man jerking his thumb back to one of the trucks.

“Got some stuff for you that just got here…”

Giving you one last look, he points his finger in your face like he’s scolding a child.

“This interrogation isn’t over, young lady—”

“Don’t you mean conversation?” Ron asks, smoke from his cigarette floating around his face like fog over a lake.

You nod your head in Ron’s direction in a sign of agreement, and Chuck moves his arm so he’s now pointing at Ron.

“Y/n and I are far past social pleasantries, and I would never insult her by lying...”

You roll your eyes and gesture in the direction Grant had been called from.

“Don’t keep Mother waiting, you know how she gets.”

You watch Grant jog over and away from sight. Ron’s fingers deftly pull your braid out from beneath your collar and smooths it down, following the length of your spine in such a way that no one else would’ve been able to see should they look over suspiciously.

“If you didn’t look like you’d just committed a crime,” he says matter-of-factly. “He probably would’ve just given you a pat on the back and moved on.”

You turn and look at him over your shoulder, the closeness of his face reminding you of how he’d held you when you thought you were dying all those months ago.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly, suddenly feeling very shy around him.

He hums, lips quirking up in a quick smile. “Well, my ‘suicidal death wish’ didn’t pan out as well as I’d hoped, so I’ll live—”

Something in your face made him stop, and with gentle hands he takes your shoulders and turns you to face him completely. You let him walk the two of you back behind the building a bit before stepping in to you again.

Like he had before, in the farmhouse after he kissed me….

You flush at the memory, and you may as well have said what was on your mind because he whispers your name in the way he does when he knows you’re overthinking things(or at least starting to).

Meeting his softened gaze, bite the inside of your cheek before speaking.

“I’m mad at you.” you say, hating the lack of conviction in your voice.

He nods, expression one of consideration as his hands come up to hold your face.

“I know.”

“Because what you did was really stupid—”

“I know—”

“And then you pull a move like that, hey” you cut yourself off when he smirks again, a chuckle in his throat when you glare at him. “Don’t you dare look so damn proud of yourself, I’m yelling at you—”

“Which move would you be referring to?” he goads, and you frown in order to hide the grin that threatens to break across your face. You shake your head in disbelief, leaning back against the side of the building.

“Oh my God.” you scoff out. “Are you teasing me right now? Ronald Speirs, you’re unbelievable”

He smiles down at you, and you let yourself smile back at him and nervously bring one of your hands up to cover his as it slides down to cup the side of your neck. 

Your smile slips as your eyes unintentionally flicker down to his lips again, remembering how they felt against your own.

Shooting a quick look to either side, you slowly raise onto your toes and give him a quick, shy peck. You can feel him grin for a split second before he kisses you deeply and far more thoroughly than you’ve ever been kissed before.

You sigh into the kiss, eyes drifting closed as you wrap your arms around his torso and fist the material of his jacket in your hands.

When you break for air you rest your cheek against his shoulder, hugging him tightly.

“I’m glad you’re okay.” you mumble, and for a moment you think he may not have caught what you said.

“If you think I’m going to let something as stupid as a bullet or a mortar stop me from coming back to you,” His lips are at your temple, and when you pull back to look at him follows you and gives you another smug grin. “you’ve got another thing coming.”

As you open your mouth to reply, the both of you hear Nixon calling your name, loudly asking people if they’ve seen you and which way you’d gone.

You both sigh, and smile at each other at the unintentional synchronization of the action.

“I think your boyfriend is looking for you.” He pulls playfully on your braid when you roll your eyes at him and gently push him away.

“I think I liked you better when you were just quiet and broody and handsome—”

Ron smiles wickedly at that, and you groan when you realized what you’d just said.

“Don’t let it get to your head-”

“Too late.” 

Ducking another quick kiss to your lips, he steps back just in time as Nixon rounds the corner, his words forgone in favor of eyeing the two of you suspiciously.

“What were you—”

“What’s up Lew?” you interrupt, trying your best to not look...what had Ron compared it to? 

Looking like you’d committed a crime….

Giving Ron a scrutinizing once over, Nix looked back to you and raised a brow.

“Dick’s wondering if you can show him how to switch one of the Kraut scopes to a rifle…”

“Sure!” you said, far too brightly. You had a feeling if you looked back at Ron he’d be smirking in unabashed amusement at your awkwardness. “Lead the way…”

With a frown and a suspicious hmph, Nix turned and began to walk in the direction from which he’d come.

You follow dutifully, giving Ron a quick smile over your shoulder as you hurried to catch up with Lewis.

Ron looked beyond pleased with himself, shooting you a quick wink before bringing another cigarette to his lips and lighting it.

“Care to explain that?” Nix asks under his breath once you catch up to him, taking your arm in his like the two of you were at some cotillion.

You smirk to yourself, rolling your lips together to hide the action.

“Nothing to explain, Nixy. Everything’s perfect….”

And for the first time in your life, you truly meant it.

OOF HERE WE ARE AGAIN! THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU FOR READING THE RAMBLINGS I THROW IN YOUR DIRECTION AND SORRY IF IT SUCKS

TAGLIST: @itswormtrain, @mrseasycompany​, @softspeirs​

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #it's vv bad but I'll just add it to the pile of already burning garbage pile that is my bibliography

[mrsalwayswrite]

Calm Amidst the Chaos (Ron Speirs x reader)

I don’t usually write based on prompts but I found this one and couldn’t resist. Prompt is in bold in the story.

In this reader story, I used she/her instead of Y/N, otherwise there is no description of reader.

Please let me know what you think!

Warning: some swearing, soft Speirs

Words: 1,317

Calm Amidst the Chaos

 She stomped up the steps of Easy Company's HQ, the least damaged building in Haguenau, practically glowing with joy. Even the tall-tell whistling sound of a missile coming from the German line across the river could not dampen her spirits. Besides, it did not sound that close. 

If she could carry a tune, she would have been singing like a canary in spring. For the first time in months she was clean. Actually clean! New ODs, a shower with warm water, and soap. Real goddamn soap to scrub away the dirt, grime, blood and sorrow from the time spent in the forests around Bastogne and Foy. Her stomach was full and she would be sleeping with a roof over her head tonight. It felt like heaven. 

 Pushing the door open, she heard Captain Winters talking in the back room, most likely to Lieutenant Speirs, which meant Captain Nixon was also nearby. 

 No one else was around to her surprise. She briefly wondered where Lipton was. Hopefully the man was actually resting in a bed somewhere. Lord knew he deserved it. 

 With no one else around, she did not feel too bad snooping. 

 A stack of large boxes against the far wall caught her eye and she went over to investigate. Luz must not have had a chance to distribute the stuff yet. She debated on if she should help him or purposefully hide the stuff to piss him off. It was a 50-50 chance which she preferred to do. She did owe him for that prank he pulled on her back in Holland. 

 Flipping open one lid, she found packages of cigarettes, gum and Hershey's bars. If a few of each found their way into her pockets, who could blame her, right? There was a large box next to it that particularly held her interest. It took a bit of effort but she finally managed to get the lid off. Inside were several new Thompson sub-machine guns. 

 She gave a low whistle. "Oh, look at all the pretties!"

 "Can you please stop talking about assault rifles the same way you talk about shoes?"

 She glanced over her shoulder at Nixon, who stood leaning against the door frame watching her with an amused look. 

 "What? Every girl needs to have standards about the important things in life."

 He laughed. "Shoes and guns, huh?"

 She just shrugged as she closed the lid, making him laugh even harder. 

 Winters and Speirs came out of the back room at that time, both curious at the commotion. 

 Nixon spoke again to her.  "Did you meet our West Pointer yet? Lieutenant Johnson. No, James?"

 "Jones." Winters shook his head. 

 "Ah right. Graduated on D-Day."

 Speirs snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. 

 "Yeah," she said, honestly she felt bad for Malark having to deal with him AND Webster but she did not want them in her own platoon. "Hopefully he doesn't get hurt."

 "Hahaha. That's what I said." Nixon chuckled. 

 Winters sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It will work out. Sink has high expectations of him."

 "Course he does." Nixon took a swig out of his canteen that everyone knew only carried Vat 69. 

 "Nix." Winters reprimanded, with said intelligence officer just waving him off. "We need to get those reports ready. Anything you need, Sergeant?" He asked looking at her. 

 "No, sir."

 "Good, good. Make sure your men get the new winter clothes that came in."

 "Yes, sir." She tried to suppress the smile as Nixon dramatically rolled his eyes behind Winters before following his friend out. 

 And then she was alone with Second Lieutenant Speirs.  

 "Something you need, Sergeant?"

 She shook her head again, now finally able to really look at the man. He looked tired, the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes emerging and his shoulders sagged more than normal. At least he had new ODs on and his hair looked damp still so he had showered recently. She could not help but wonder when he slept last for more than 2 or 3 hours. Especially with Lipton sick, she knew he was under more pressure and taking more responsibility.  

 "How can I help, sir?"

 He just stared out the window, fingers drumming on the desk he leaned against. 

 "Ron...what can I do?"

 It was hearing his name that broke him. She only ever used it when they were alone. He sighed deeply,  pinching the bridge of his nose. Suddenly he looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Before she could help herself, she moved to stand in front of him. One hand carded through his damp locks, straightening them from their messy look. Silently he pressed his forehead to hers. They stayed that way for several moments, sharing what strength and peace they could. 

 She was not sure when whatever this was officially formed. There was the time he had knocked out a guy back in Toccoa that was harassing her or trying to find safe places to sleep in the Netherlands or when Roe sent her to Dog Company to get medical supplies and she ended up spending most of the night in a foxhole with Speirs during a bombing that made the Fourth of July look like amateur night. Somewhere over the years something has shifted between them. Not that either had dared to name it. There was a war to focus on after all.  

 "What's going on?" She tried to coax out, keeping up her gentle touches.

 "There's a patrol set for tonight. A prisoner snatch."

 "Shit."

 Of course, when all the men just wanted to enjoy being indoors and not getting constantly shelled, fucking regiment would order something like this. There was nothing that could be done. Orders were given and orders had to be followed. Even if everyone hated it. 

 "How are you doing, Ron, and don't bullshit me, I know you too well for that."

 He chuckled, lightly wrapping an arm around her waist. "I haven't killed anyone today."

 "That's good. Have you threatened anyone though?"

 Silence. 

 "Well its a start, I guess." She gently massaged the back of his neck, earning a low groan from him. "What can I do? Have you slept lately? Can I get you something to eat?"

 "You sound like my mother."

 "I'm certain that woman is a saint to have put up with you for so...ow!" She gasped after he pinched her side. She teasingly swatted the back of his head but immediately went back to her ministrations. 

 They lapsed back into silence, him loosely holding her as she massaged the back of his neck and carded her hand through his hair, foreheads still touching. Shouts could be heard outside, the occasional faint sound of a gun being fired, trucks rolling down the bumpy, muddy road. Outside was reality. Outside was their truth. Here in this moment though, they had the peace they both needed to keep going. 

 The stomping of boots coming up the steps had both of them straightening and stepping away from one another. 

 Some replacement walked in, rifle slung over his shoulder. "Sir, Winters wants you out front."

 "Right. On your way."

 The soldier saluted then turned around and left, the door slamming behind him. 

 Speirs grabbed his helmet from off the nearby table and his rifle, already lighting a cigarette. He stopped and looked at her. "Sergeant, you can organize the new machine guns. See they are distributed evenly...Make sure one ends up in your platoon."

 She smirked. "You sure know how to spoil a girl, sir."

 He winked then stepped out, back into reality, back into war. 

 Turning around, she placed her hands on her hips as she looked over the boxes. She certainly had no problems commandeering one of the pretties for herself. Personally she had always thought a new gun was better than a new pair of shoes. 

#band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #ron speirs #ronald speirs #ron speirs x reader #hbo war #reader insert #easy company #mzwrites

[gottapenny]

Ron Speirs Reading List

Last one for tonight, it’s 4:30am and i’ve not been to sleep in like 45 hours but i have training in 30 mins so power nap time. Anyways i think i found another fandom favourite, everyone loves speirs apparently. This will be continually updated, and make sure to like/reblog all the ones you read and go and follow everyone on this list.

Smut/NSFW content will be marked with a * next to it (there’s a lot of this for foy boy)

Ron Speirs Fluff Alphabet by @warmommy  x

When they sound the last all-clear * by @warmommy  1  2  3

Validation * by @writersmacchiato  x

Feel by @writersmacchiato  x

“You did not kill that boy” by @lostinthewiind  x

First Time * by @lostinthewiind  x

Dominant * by @croatianbagudna  x

Civilian Life by @croatianbagudna  x

Make Me * by @croatianbagudna  x

About us by @croatianbagudna  x

Worried by @croatianbagudna  x

Love You by @croatianbagudna  x

Running up that hill by @croatianbagudna  x

Welcome home kisses *(ish) by @hbostolemysoul  x

Ron Speirs Fluff Alphabet by @hbostolemysoul  x

“Let’s have a baby” by @hbostolemysoul  x

Dog Tags by @marvelmymarvel  x

Wounded by @marvelmymarvel  x

Cigarette? by @marvelmymarvel  x

Idiot by @marvelmymarvel  1  2

Promote me, love me by @marvelmymarvel  1  2  3  4  5  6 (ongoing) 

Silent Affairs by @marvelmymarvel  x

Despicable by @marvelmymarvel  x

You’re Crazy by @justthinkingofwaystoavoidbusses  x

Dating Ron Speirs would include by @justthinkingofwaystoavoidbusses  x

Mirror by @justthinkingofwaystoavoidbusses  x

First Time * by @lovingunderratedcharacters  x

How they react to you joining the company by @lovingunderratedcharacters  x

How they react to reader having heterochromia by @lovingunderratedcharacters  x

How they react to having an argument with reader by @lovingunderratedcharacters  x

How they react to you sending them a risque photo of yourself by @lovingunderratedcharacters  x

How they take care of the reader when they’re sick and vise versa by @lovingunderratedcharacters  x

What it’s like/how they react to reader spending the night by @lovingunderratedcharacters  x

Boobs or Ass Men by @lovingunderratedcharacters  x

How they react to the death of their best friend/lover by @lovingunderratedcharacters  x

How they react to reader being injured on the field by @lovingunderratedcharacters  x

How they kiss you by @lovingunderratedcharacters  x

Dating Ron Speirs would include * by @lovingunderratedcharacters  x

In the rain headcanons by @lovingunderratedcharacters  x

Sleeping with them SFW by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

They Propose by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Nicknames Headcanons by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Pets headcanons by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Future Home headcanons by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Holidays headcanons by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Halloween headcanons by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Looking after you after surgery by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Wedding headcanons by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Medic!reader by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Reader who smokes pot by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

How they react to the reader having a bad smoking habit by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Easy Company Highschool au by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Having children with Easy by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x 

How they react to reader having an eating disorder by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x 

Easy having a crush on you by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Easy making sure the reader rests by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Having a domestic life with Easy by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Sex headcanons * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Blowjobs or Handjobs * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Ron Speirs eloping * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Ron Speirs and cigarettes nsfw * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Ron Speirs play fighting * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Ron Speirs NSFW drabble * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x 

First time with Speirs * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Ron Speirs NSFW Alphabet * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Ron Speirs thigh riding * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Jealous Speirs * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Speirs NSFW drabble * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

NSFW Punishments * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Freaky Kinks * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Hey there, killer * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

“I hope they have your eyes” by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Speirs catches you masturbating * by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Domestic Speirs headcanons by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Headcanons about Speirs’ stealing by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Easy boys find out the reader self harms by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Domestic headcanons with Speirs by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Speirs having a crush on you by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Jealous Speirs drabble by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Being the only girl in Easy by @easy-company-reacts  x

Ron Speirs x reader relationship timeline by @easy-company-reacts  x

Atta Boy (Shifty Powers x reader x Ron Speirs x Carwood Lipton) * by @attaboyfics  1  2 

“Til next time” (Chuck Grant x reader x Ron Speirs) * by @attaboyfics  x 

How the men of Easy react to the reader being pregnant by @appreciatetheunderappreciated  x

How they would react if you wore lingerie by @appreciatetheunderappreciated  x

Dating/being best friends with Ron Speirs by @appreciatetheunderappreciated  x

What the men of Easy would be like as boyfriends/husbands by @appreciatetheunderappreciated  x

How they kiss you by @fandomscenariosforyou  x

How they flirt with you by @fandomscenariosforyou  x

How they teach you to drive by @fandomscenariosforyou  x

Who distances themselves by @fandomscenariosforyou  x

Slow dancing with Easy by @fandomscenariosforyou  x

Hickey Headcanons by @fandomscenariosforyou  x

Who comforts who? by @fandomscenariosforyou  x

First Dance by @fandomscenariosforyou  x

Secret Relationship by @fandomscenariosforyou  x

Love/hate relationship by @fandomscenariosforyou  x

Ron Speirs imagine by @fandomscenariosforyou you  x

Sick Days by @writersmacchiato  x

Never Wrong by @higgles123  x

Easy Company Band Tees by @gendryw4ters  x

Where they liked to be kissed by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

Arguing with them by @queenofkeys  x

Poker by @queenofkeys  x

The Night of Nights * (speirs x reader x nixon) by @theonetryingtolive  1  2

How they are with children by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x

First time with Easy by @imagine-bandofbrothers  x 

The Office Au by @musicnoots  x

Fatherhood by @imaginesofecompany  x

That’s my wife! by @imaginesofecompany  x

Take my blanket by @imaginesofecompany  x

You’re Bearable by @imaginesofecompany  x

Anything You Want by @musicnoots  x

For The Better by @lostinthewiind  x

Storming Area 51 by @musicnoots  1  2  3

The Dark Door of the Secret Earth by @warmommy  x

How Easy reacts to see you in lingerie for the first time by @fandomscenariosforyou  x 

Picture Perfect by @bandofbrosimagine  x

“Want some tea?” (speirton) by @brightly-painted-canvas  x

Morning After by @miraclealignersv  x

Celebration? by @marvelmymarvel  x

Scared by @miraclealignersv  x

Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts by @miraclealignersv  x

Wake Me Up by @musicnoots  x

For You by @croatianbagudna  x

#reading list #ron speirs #band of brothers

[marvelmymarvel]

Despicable

Ronald Speirs x Medic!Reader (toxic. Reader deserves better)

Synopsis: He needed you to leave him... So he pushed you till you did. And it was absolutely despicable.

Song: Despicable by Grandson (link: https://youtu.be/zZ3bohoNNrU )

Trigger warning: angsty

A/n: I can't stay away for long here's some content ;) let me know if you wanna know who exactly the reader deserves.

(The goodbye is the hardest part). It was hard for you to say goodbye to Ronald Speirs. The Ronald Speirs. The madman that ran across the town of Foy through enemy fire. The crazy guy who offered cigarettes to POW's and killed them. Or so they said... The first instance was real, you witnessed it firsthand. But the second instance? They were rumors, but you wouldn't question whether or not he would do it. You couldn't leave him though. (When we find ourselves back at the start). You would just start over once more. It was a vicious cycle you two were in. He left, you begged. You left, he begged. Over and over and over again. You couldn't seem to break free. You didn't know if you wanted to. (But I'm not so brave, and I'm not so smart). You weren't brave or smart enough to leave him for good. The minute you saw him running into danger was the minute you ran back to him. Every. Single. Damn. Time. You guess though when it came down to it, he would be the one to make you leave. (No,). He hurt you. Not physically, not even really verbally. But you still felt the ache in your stomach when he ignored you or cut you off short. He had to do it. (I'm doing you a favor, doing you a favor). He was doing you a favor, he thought. If he could make you hate him, you would never come back.

"Ron" you whispered out as he came out of the battle with a wicked wound on his arm. Walking towards him, he only pushed past you. His shoulder slammed into yours and your breath caught as it nearly knocked you over. (One day you will understand). "Ron?" You croaked out toward his retreating form, but he just kept walking towards a different medic. Laying in your foxhole that night, you thought of all that was happening. He was ignoring you, pushing you away. And you couldn't stop it. You got up and climbed out of the foxhole before making your way over to Eugene's. Climbing down, he jumped as you shoved his arm. (Why I pushed you away as I am). "I don't get it, Gene." You whispered out as you two sat together in the foxhole. He yawned as he stretched out his arms, "Get what sweetheart?" He asked sleepily as you rested your head on his shoulder. "Why does Ron hate me...." his breathing stilled at those words and he sat up finally. Your head fell off his shoulder as he rubbed his face in anguish. (And you will find a better man than I am). "You deserve better y/n" he muttered under his breath and you grew conflicted at those words. You did deserve better... Didn't you. "Should I leave him?" You whispered out softly. It was heavy and full of sadness. Eugene could feel that and he wrapped an arm around your back. Grabbing your waist softly, he drug you closer to him. "Do you want me to be honest?" You gulped at the words. Did you want him to be honest? You knew what he was going to say... You just didn't want to hear it. "Yeah" you whimpered out and he just sighed at you before getting closer. "You need to leave him." (Trust, I'm doing you a favor, doing you a favor). Ron inhaled his smoke from where he leaned against a tree nearby Eugene's hole. He wasn't meaning to eavesdrop, but hearing you made him falter in his steps. He was glad he stopped. 'Leave me' his thoughts prayed 'Leave. Me.' "Okay" you choked out sadly. Ron threw his cigarette to the ground before sneaking off. He got what he wanted... (Ooh).

But he felt so God damn...

(Despicable).

Why did he do it anyway, he contemplated to himself in his foxhole that night. Tomorrow, you would leave him. Something that he prayed for. But why. He loved you.... (I'm just a bottom feeder (uh huh)). Well for starters, he was a horrible person. At least, he saw it as such. He didn't deserve the title, the honor, the praise. He didn't deserve you.

He was...

(Despicable).

He was not going to be yours for the rest of your life. You would leave him eventually. (I ain't never been a keeper (oh no)). He was never really the boy to bring home to mom and dad...

He was just so God damn...

(Despicable).

Inhaling sharply at the next thought that crossed his mind, his blood ran cold. You deserved better. He would only love you and then leave you. (Love her then I leave her). Just like you, he would never stay. He would always, always, leave you. He wouldn't blame you for your feelings of hatred. (And if I were you, I wouldn't love me neither). Because if he was you. He wouldn't love himself either. (Said if I were you, I wouldn't love me neither). The words circled in his head over and over again. It hurt his heart the more and more he thought about just how much he wouldn't love himself if he was you. (I wouldn't love me neither). Why would you stay??

He was only...

(Despicable).

And that was it. That was all he was to you.

He felt like a fallen angel. Seeing him across the field felt heavenly.... but getting close meant feeling only the hellfire. (The boy who fell into the sky). You didn't know that he loved you truly. And the only way to hide his tears and feelings from you was to be cruel. (Had no one there to watch him cry). He didn't want to feel weak. He didn't want you to know that he couldn't live without you-

"Ron" you called out from behind him. He turned slowly. It was happening, he thought to himself as he internally built a wall. You walked closer to him as the other men scattered away. His eyes looked sad... They looked... (He looked at you with his empty eyes and said:). Empty. "Its over." You whimpered out shakily "We... We can't keep playing this game of cat and mouse" your voice was surprisingly strong, but it masked how you truly felt. "So I'm leaving you... For good." You finished off, finally looking straight into his eyes. You were hoping for any emotion whatsoever... But there was none. "I'm glad you did it... I was getting impatient" he sneered lowly before turning and storming away. ("I'm doing you a favor, doing you a favor."). Your heart broke as you tried to grasp his words. He wanted you to leave. That was confirmed. Stumbling back, you felt your world tilt. Feeling a hand grab your back softly, you could barely hear Eugene over the blood that was rushing in your ears.

(Ooh).

"That despicable" you snarled out as Eugene turned you softly to him. You were angry.

He was just so...

(Despicable).

"Low life" you continued on as Eugene guided you over to a curb. (I'm just a bottom feeder (uh huh)). Everything you two went through meant nothing to him.

It was all so...

(Despicable).

Sitting you down, Eugene pulled out his canteen for you to drink. But you were deep in thought. (I ain't never been a keeper (oh no)). "Y/n" Eugene whispered out as he saw the tears form in your silence. Turning your head to him, you sniffled loudly "He was never going to keep me was he?" You stuttered out as your lip quivered from the pain that ran through your body. Not one hand was laid on you... Yet you hurt. Shaking your head, the one word that described him in this moment repeated in your head over and over again.

"Despicable" you snarled once more before rubbing your hand over your face in angst.

(Despicable).

You hated him. HATED him. He was never going to stay, no. He used you. (Love her then I leave her). He loved you and then left when you returned the feelings. And for that, Ron thought as he backed away from the wall that he was watching you and Eugene from, you deserved better. He didn't blame you. He hated himself as well. (And if I were you, I wouldn't love me neither). Instead of manning up and leaving you, he pushed you to the point of pain. He hated that. (Said if I were you, I wouldn't love me neither). That wasn't something he was proud of. Oh no. No no no. That guilt of hurting you sat in his chest for the rest of the day and well into the next couple of days. He even heard you say how much you hated him while you were ranting to Gene. He didn't blame you. "I wouldn't love me neither y/n" he whispered to himself as he backed away from the screaming. (I wouldn't love me neither). After all.

He was only...

(Despicable).

As time the days drug on, he watched you as the pain lessened on your face when you would see him. How he wished it was different. (How I wish I told a different tale). He wanted to be with you. He wanted to love you. (Like we chased the light and his love prevailed). He used to pray for it to work out. That the fight you two just got into wouldn't be the last. But...

(But his blood went cold and his skin went pale). He realized how much it was hurting you. The first initial thought of how it wasn't fair to you made him sick to his stomach. It made him distant. But he couldn't do it. He couldn't end it. So. (She got a letter in the mail, said:). He made you do it. ("I'm doing you a favor, doing you a favor"). He used to repeat that phrase over and over again. How he was doing you a favor when he couldn't sleep at night knowing you were crying yourself to sleep. Just like tonight, when he was all alone with the thoughts and guilt. He wished he could tell you. (Said: "If I were you, I wouldn't love me neither" (no)). Tell you that it was okay for you to hate him. He hated himself too. But he loved you.

(Said: "If I were you" ("If I were you")). A sob escaped from his throat into the empty and dark room he was sleeping in. Why did it hurt? Isn't this what he wanted. (Said: "If I were you, I wouldn't love me neither). No. He thought as he repeated to himself that he did you a favor. All he wanted, was your love. He wanted you. But he was nothing to you anymore.

He was only...

Despicable.

Tags:

@hell-itwasyou @desired-love-

#band of brothers imagine #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers #ronald speirs #ronald speirs imagines #ronald speirs imagine

[marvelmymarvel]

When I Was Older

Part 2/3

Captain!Intelligence!Lewis Nixon x Captain!Intelligence!Reader

????? x Captain!Intelligence!Reader (Cuz I’m evil. MUAHAHA)

Synopsis:  Working side by side with the man you secretly love but openly hate is hard work. He tells you that your plans aren’t smart, but he knows deep down that they are indeed lifesavers. But when he doesn't take your word and it winds up in 100 dead men, you two have an explosive fight, and words are said. Some were hurtful… Some were what you wanted to hear all along.

Catch Up: Part 1 

A/N: I wanna see your guesses on who she's gonna end up with... In order to keep it a surprise, I won't put specific people (other than Lew) in the tags so you can't cheat ;). But!!! I want to play a game... I wanna see who YOU think it is... The people that get it right get tagged (Other than my other tags lol, you’ll be in a special tag itself at the top). Here are the rules if you’d like to play along. You can either comment on this post/pm me/send in the answer in the ask box, and I will (If you would like) tag you if you’re right. If you have a reason to why you think that a certain person is the one you chose, I would also like to hear that! I just think it would be a fun game to play!! If no one plays its fine as well. But just so you know... You won't know who it is till the last paragraph of the 3rd part... Because I’m evil... Anyway, I hope you enjoy this and if you would like me to do more like these I certainly can (I think its super fun and all). 

PS: Every part will have a song you can listen to while you read :)

Song: Bellyache By Billie Eilish (Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gBRi6aZJGj4) *Basically just happy and about love ya know :)*

The door slammed open angrily and Dick jumped in his chair as you stormed in. “Y/n” He greeted calmly and you just glared at him. While he was your best friend since day one, sometimes he did things that made you tic. “Really Dick” you hissed lowly and he just nodded at the door, you could yell and scream at him all you wanted... But the rest of the officers didn't need to hear it as well. Pursing your lips tightly, you turned and grabbed the door angrily. “Close it gently please Y/n... No need to demolish the door as well” he muttered and you closed it slowly before turning around to face him once more. He looked up from his papers with a blank face, opening your mouth he sighed “It had to happen” he grumbled out and you scoffed. Storming over you pulled one of the chairs out and sat down angrily in front of his desk. You were seething, anger boiling through your veins as if you were about to catch on fire. You opened and closed your mouth many times, but not a single word came out. “Spit it out” Dick murmured, not really patient enough to have you 10 seconds away from killing him, and him not knowing why. 

“He told me... HE LOVED ME... DICK” you screamed out finally before grabbing onto the arms of the chair in anger. It was more so to balance yourself as the rage seemed to blind you a little and made you dizzy. The three words you begged to hear from those lips, now left a bad taste in your mouth. “And what did you say,” Dick said quietly. It was almost too light for you to hear and your face softened as you took in the way he said that sentence. Your breathing became calm as you thought over the words that fell from your lips after Lewis admitted his feelings to you. They were harsh, but they were necessary... “I told him that I hated him” you whispered. Dick only stared at you, no emotion seemed to cross his features as he took in your heartless reply. Richard stood by you, every year that you loved Lew on and off again, and yet when you heard those words that you prayed for... You told him that you hated him? Dick nodded before standing, finally understanding why you were upset. It wasn't because of what Lew said, hell, you could care less... But it was what Dick did that caused that whole situation to happen in the first place. Rounding the desk he sat on the corner before clearing his throat and looking down at you. “I’m sorry that I put you in that situation” Dick’s soft words seemed to restore your heart as you smiled affectionately at him. Another thought crossed your brain as your smile fell once more. “How long did you know that he liked me?” It was so faint and weak that he almost whispered out a ‘what’ so you could repeat yourself. But then it dawned on him. You shook your head before scoffing. Standing up you grabbed your jacket that flew onto the ground in your anger, “I can't believe you” you hissed before turning to leave. “Y/n..” He sighed out as he pushed off the desk and lunged for your arm. Grabbing tightly onto your bicep, he whirled you around where you stood face to face with him. Your breath caught at the proximity but you composed yourself before looking up into his eyes. “I was trying to protect you from him” he muttered out sincerely, you rolled your eyes as you gave a mocking smirk to him. “Really... Because you didn't think that maybe... Just MAYBE if Lew and I were together, things would have been easier?? Or is that just me?” you pressed as you got in his face, your anger boiling over and Dick just watched you as if he couldn't find a way to put it out. “Its almost as if you didn't want me to even find out... HOW DARE YOU-” He cut you off by pressing his lips hurriedly to yours. It was a single kiss, but your eyes widened in confusion. Pushing him away softly you gazed at him in disbelief, “You read that circumstance very, very, wrong” you whispered before yanking your arm from his grasp and storming out. Leaving him there feeling stupid for kissing you, his best friend. He just wanted you to shut up... He just wanted you to realize, that his intentions were not to stop you from loving Lew and instead loving him... His intentions were different. There was someone else that loved you... It wasn't just him... But he couldn't tell you who.

“And then! HE KISSED-” 

“SHHH, Y/n” Speirs hissed as he covered your mouth with his hand. He smiled at your anger as his eyes darted from your covered lips back to your angry eyes... But you didn't see it somehow. You were both sitting in a barn that was right in the middle of the town where the regiment was located. During the lunch hour, you and Ron normally caught up to eat and talk about each others day in that barn. You always seemed to find a spot wherever you all traveled, but seeing as you have spent almost 2 weeks in this town, this had become your favorite spot. You stopped mumbling in his hand and he cocked an eyebrow at you. “You done hollerin’ now sweets?” he whispered lowly in your ear and you nodded. Letting you go, you exhaled out in relief from finally being able to breathe normally. “Yeah... I’m sorry Ron I’m just...” you started before trailing off, something caught your eye. He followed your glare and saw Lewis walking over towards you two, “Want me to take care of him” Ron grumbled and you just shook your head before handing him the other half of your sandwich, “No... He probably needs help-” 

“Y/n” Lew called out making you nod annoyingly at Ron as an ‘I told you so’ as Lew just continued “I need help with the plans.” You sighed before standing up, pressing a kiss to Ron's cheek, you swung your jacket over your shoulder. “Same time tomorrow? Or we going out tonight” you hollered back over your shoulder as you began to walk towards Lew. “We can go out tonight. My treat” Ron called back and you gave him a mini-salute with your fingers before turning back to Lew who was impatiently waiting for you. “What’s your deal Nixon” you seethed as you brushed past him, Ron bit into your sandwich before throwing a smirk at the angry Captain. Lew turned and angrily stormed after you. Once in the planning room, you began to unravel the maps, Lew was farther behind you but you knew he entered by the way he slammed the door shut. It was hard and full of violence, making you jump in your spot. Blinking, you relaxed your muscles as Lew rounded the table, his anger was radiating off of him in violent waves and you felt sick to your stomach. Putting his energy aside in your brain, you helped him plan for the next hour. 

He barely talked, and you barely conversed anything other than plans. A knock sounded on the door as the door opened and you turned your head to see Lip in the doorway, fingers still brushed against the wood of the door.  A smile appeared on your lips at the sight of him as he entered the hostile room, “I need to see Y/n, Captain Nixon... Is that okay?” Carwood asked warmly and Lew just shrugged. “Don't really care what she does frankly” he snapped out and you just rolled your eyes at Car before following him out. His smile was all you seemed to need as it changed your face from a sad frown to a happy smile in a matter of seconds. Getting out of there, you looped your arm with his. “Thank God you got me out of there Car” you gratefully muttered as you put your head on his shoulder. You two were walking over to the meeting that all of the officers had at 1500 hours, but for some happy reason, Car decided to save you from Lew and his assholery an hour early. “Anything for you my love” he sweetly whispered down at you before pressing a kiss to your temple. You both exited the office and walked over towards your guys' special spot. It was under an apple tree that was nearby the offices, but a little out of the way. While you and Ron had the barn, you and Car had the tree. You two had late night talks when you both couldn't sleep, under this tree. War was getting the best of you both, and together, you found comfort in each other. Reaching up, you tried to grab a ripe apple that was only inches away from your fingertips, but you couldn't get it. You stood on your tippy-toes but still couldn't reach it, an arm wrapped securely around your waist as Carwoods hand surpassed yours and grabbed the apple. Pulling it down and off the tree, you huffed out a frustrated sigh before turning in his grasp. He held out the apple to you and you smiled. Grabbing it you leaned up and pecked the corner of his mouth softly, “Thanks, Car.” you cooed before walking over to sit against the body of the tree. His cheeks were red but he didn't mind. He watched you lovingly as your h/c hair flowed around your shoulders. It was rare for you to have your hair down but anytime you did, he loved it. Just like he loved you. Sitting down against the tree, he plopped down next to you. You pouted up at him and he got out his pocket knife for you. You began to cut off pieces for the both of you. Leaning back into him, he lifted his arm for you to cuddle into his side. You cuddled under his arm and looked at the blue skies with him. “Thanks for being there for me Car” you whispered up at him as you bit into your piece of apple. He pressed a kiss to your head. “Anytime” he started as he rubbed your arm lovingly, “Any. Time.”

tags:

@hell-itwasyou @desired-love-

#lewis nixon imagine #lewis nixon imagines #lewis nixon #ronald speirs imagine #ronald speirs imagines #ronald speirs #carwood lipton imagine #carwood lipton imagines #carwood lipton #richard winters imagine #richard winters imagines #richard winters #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers

[marvelmymarvel]

Promote Me, Love Me

Part 2/12

Ronald Speirs x Lieutenant!Reader (Mainly)

Carwood Lipton x Lieutenant!Reader (Kinda)

Synopsis: You have one goal in this war, to rise faster in the ranks than Ronald Speirs from Dog Company. The only problem, you’re hopelessly in love with the crazy man. Will it mess up your chance to be better than the arrogant careless man, or will it make you realize that ranks aren’t everything when it comes to love? But when you find out that your best friend Carwood Lipton has been hiding feelings for you, what will you choose in the end? Speirs, Lipton, or that Golden Rank you’ve dreamt of since you were a little girl, only war will make that decision.

He was stupid. You thought as you gripped your hair angrily while pacing in the room. You had all just come back from blowing up the guns and were preparing to move north to Carentan. “He risked their LIVES, LIP” you screamed at your best friend as he just sat there listening to you. A large glass mirror was behind you and he was eyeing you like a hawk, he knew you liked to punch things. Something you and Speirs both had in common. “No one got hurt-” Lip started and you stopped and stared at him with a look that stated ‘are you kidding me’ “HE ALMOST LOST SOME OF HIS MEN” You fought back, spitting the words out like they were venom in your mouth. “AND THEY WANT TO PROMOTE HIM FOR HIS BRAVERY. AND WHAT DO I GET” you continued screaming before quieting down, holding in your anger. Lip finally got up, he touched your arm and you snapped. “NOTHING” you screamed while tturning and angrily slamming your fist into the mirror, causing it to shatter and cut your fist. You stood there angrily, your breathing was heavy as you looked at yourself in the broken glass. “He’s going to kill my men” you hissed and Lip nodded, not because you were right, but because he understood. He grabbed your wrist softly and unclenched your fist. Cuts were littered all over your knuckles as you just stared at yourself, “Let me clean you up” He whispered before wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you away from the glass, away from your shattered dreams.

As you sat on the countertop of the bathroom, you looked around. The light made the room look dim and it was quite small, forcing Lip to stand between your legs as he tended to the cuts. He managed to remove the shards that stuck and wipe down the cuts with alcohol, causing you to hiss and grab onto his shoulder. “You should probably stop hitting things, and we won't have to do this as often.” he scolded and you just shook your head. You were childish and reckless, this type of outrage was normal. While you would never hit anyone, you would always hit something else, be it a wall, door, or mirror. If you were angry, nearby inanimate objects were in danger. “I don't have gauze, so we will need to go to Doc” Lip sighed out before stepping back for you to drop down. As you did, you walked past him, anger still bubbling under your skin. You stormed across the way, seeing Doc talking to another medic. Your stuff was slung over Lip’s shoulder as he followed closely, afraid for another poor pole’s life. “Doc” you hissed out angrily. Eugene turned and his face made you soften as you cleared your throat. “I accidentally.... punched a mirror.... can you wrap me up?” You asked sheepishly while showing him your knuckles. He grabbed your hand softly with a concerned look on his face, “What did the mirror do to you?” He asked while looking up. “It was in her way” Lip called out and you sent a glare back. “I’m gonna load these up... I’ll save you a seat” Lip stated and you nodded before following Doc into the building.

Carentan was already bloody, and it just started. “GO GO GO” You screamed to the men as they all hid in the ditches, Winters kicked one of them and you shoved another out of the ditch. Running behind Lip you stood behind the wall, another private came up and was about to tell Lip that there was one in a window when he was shot. He went down and you lunged to catch him, causing Lip to yank you back as another bullet soared towards you, clipping your arm. “FUCKERS” you screamed as you clutched the graze, “Doc is gonna hate me” you grumbled as the other men slyly pulled him out of harm's way. “Be a little more careful then” Lip hollered back as he shot at another, “This is war sweetheart” he taunted and you rolled your eyes. “THANKS, SARGE” you teased before standing and shooting at where he was shooting, but higher up. You stopped once you saw Winters run towards the window with a grenade “no way” you whispered. Winters threw it in and killed the man, you were still in shock as Lip pulled you to move. You ran behind him as he called out to Shifty, “YOU OKAY SHIFT” you barked out, he threw up his thumb and had a childish smile on his face from taking out a snipper, causing you to giggle. “Hammer those windows” Lip ordered as you both hid behind a wall. Once Shifty took out the men in the building was when you and Lip finally started to climb the steps up the building when you heard the mortars. “Lip” you whispered as he threw a grenade in. He turned and watched wide-eyed. “Shit” you whispered as you ran forward towards the bar, “THEY GOT US ZEROED” You screamed as he took off down the stairs “SPREAD IT OUT! SPREAD IT OUT!” You continued to scream out to them as you waved violently in the air for them to move around. Lip was halfway down as he began to scream “GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE. THEY GOT US ZEROED GO GO” he continued as you raced quickly down the stairs. ducking at a couple mortars that fell nearby. He pushed some soldiers to their feet as he hollered for everyone to get out of the streets “MOVE MOVE MOVE” You heard as you finally got to the ground rounding the wall you saw him not far from you. You started off towards him when the tank shell hit in front of him.

You stopped in your tracks as you shielded your eyes from the debris. Looking up cautiously you saw Lip against the wall “Lip” you whispered to yourself as you took off towards him. The smoke began to clear as you dropped down to him, “Lip” you hissed as you grabbed his face, “Lip you okay?” you stated once more as you helped him sit a little. You examined his gash and let out a sigh of relief at the fact that he was okay for the most part. “Lip” another soldier screamed out and you looked up at him as you grabbed your little towel to clean off his wound. “Hey buddy” the man stated and you noticed Lip’s eyes were pointed down low. You gulped as you both turned your heads to the sight, you were expecting his legs to be hurt, but you realized there was blood around his privates. “Oh my” you whispered before looking back up from the area in embarrassment. The soldier ripped open the fly and looked for him “You’re okay Lip, everything is right where it should be.” You shook your head at the soldier's response and grabbed Lips arm, “Okay, come on upsy-daisy” you whispered as you both helped him up. You both helped him along while he leaned mostly against you for support, “I got ya Lip” you cooed as you drug him towards the edge of town. You told the other soldier to keep going, that you’d get him to safety and he left. Ducking a couple of times at gunfire, you held your handgun close, in case someone wanted to get you too and finish him off. You managed to get him to the medic station right as it all ended. You were ushered into the building in which they were about to put up shop for the wounded, you leaned him against a table. Putting your head to his as you shook your head realizing both of you got hurt as he pulled your jacket down a little. Your dog tags clattered as he looked at your grazed wound. Hugging Lip as you heard Doc call out to you, you seemed to grip onto him for dear life. Whether it was his life or yours, he didn't know. But he held onto you the same way. You backed out of his arms as another medic started on him, “I’ll see ya around Car” you whispered before following Doc into another room. Lip watched you as Doc closed the door. 

“You know-” he stopped talking as you hissed from the stitch, he continued though as you died down “Lip likes you” Doc stated and you rolled your eyes.”He’s my best friend” you groaned out as another wave of pain flowed through your arm and upper body. Your head was thrown back as you gripped the table, “And that changes anything, how?” Doc pushed and you looked down at him, more like glared at him. You were sick and tired of people thinking you and Lip had a thing, it wasn't true... Your eyebrows creased in confusion at the statement that formed in your head as your stomach swirled, was it? “I know you like Speirs-” he started and you pushed him off, your shoulder was done but not wrapped, but you were done. “I’m done here, thanks Doc” you grumbled before storming out. 

He watched you get up and leave, realizing he pushed too far, but not chasing after you. For what he said was true. Whether you liked it or not.

You walked outside, looking at your arm you realized you would definitely need to get it wrapped. You stopped a medic, “I don't want to bother, for I can wrap it myself, but may I have gauze please” you asked politely. He simply nodded at you before handing yo the roll, you smiled and nodded as a form of thanks and walked over to the curb. Sitting down, you pulled your jacket off your arm, you struggled to get the gauze around your stitch. Getting frustrated after the third attempt, you slammed your hand into your face, groaning into it. “Need some help” you heard someone call out. Recognizing the voice you raised your head out of your hand, staring long and hard at Ron as he stood there with a cigarette in his mouth. 

Sighing, you handed the roll to him, realizing that he was only trying to help, for once. He began to wrap your shoulder as his cigarette stayed put in his mouth. Craving the taste of it, you grabbed it out of his mouth with your free hand, inhaling slowly. It tasted of tar, and another flavor, him. “Whoa there princess, did I say you could have it” He teased and you rolled your eyes. “I’m not a princess” you grumbled and he just chuckled, “You sure do look like one” he whispered while finishing up the wrap. You gasped in shock but it masked your cheeks heating up, “I do not look like a princess, I am a soldier” you muttered out quickly and he smiled at you widely. Some of the men across the way hit each other as they saw their CO actually smiling, and at a female, more importantly, AT YOU. “You are a soldier, an awesome one at that” he agreed, your head cocked in question of where this was going as he stood up. “But your as pretty as a princess, and don't you forget it” he whispered out, leaving you speechless “Keep the cigarette,” he stated before winking and walking away, leaving you dazed and confused at the whole situation. “What the fuck” you whispered to yourself before finally noticing the men who stared wide-eyed across the street, “Keep walking men” you hollered out and they scampered. You threw the cigarette on the ground, looking at it as you realized what just happened. You had a taste of Ron, and you were craving it.

Part 3

tags: 

@hell-itwasyou  @desired-love-

#ronald speirs imagine #ronald speirs imagines #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #carwood lipton imagine #carwood lipton imagines #promote me love me #promote me #love me