Tumgik
#band of brothers fanfic
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That final line - Joe Liebgott x F!Reader
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Summary: Things have changed between Joe and Reader after bearing witness to the Concentration camp. They moved from being best friends to something more emotionally intimate. Now that the war in Europe is over will they cross the last line and become physically intimate?
Warnings: 18+ content (smut, p in v) angst-ish (mentions of war & concentration camp), comforting each other, tooth rotting fluff at end, she/her pronouns (no use of y/n or 1st person POV, but told from Liebgott's perspective sorta).
A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.
A/N pt 2: I love how this turned out. Basically this is just my own self-indulgence wish that I could have held and taken care of Liebgott after that scene of him crying in the truck. As always, let me know what you think! I tried a different writing perspective and I like it, hopefully you do too. Comments, likes, and reblogs make me happy and feel validated!
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Joe Liebgott would forever be a different man. Easy Company had just liberated Kaufering IV but that included locking the poor souls back up for the medics to be able to try and get them back from the brink of death. The whole thing had left Joe feeling broken and full of pure rage and despair he didn't know how to get rid of it. So he grabbed a bottle of wine and wondered till he found a tree isolated enough he wouldn't easily be found. He just needed space.
He'd been alone for hours, judging by how low the sun was hanging, bottle long since empty, and eyes sore and dry from tears when he heard a twig snap. Looking around the tree, his heart both swelled and shattered at the sight of the person walking towards him. She was his best friend, been that way since Toccoa and all through the war thus far. The only person that could calm him down when his hot-headedness got the better of him and always had his back in every combat situation. He never had to worry when she was around. She was also the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and had long since accepted that his heart would always speed up a little when she was in eyesight. While his heart had the usual reaction at seeing her, he couldn't help but feel broken anew at the sadness on her face and emptiness in her eyes. He wasn't the only one tore up from their recent experience.
"I've been looking for you everywhere." She speaks barely above a whisper as she drops down next to him, already leaning against his arm.
"I'm sorry, I just had to get away for a while. I should have found you and brought you with me." He leans over to drop a kiss on the top of her head.
There's a beat of silence and then she speaks again, still in a low whisper, "Do you think they'll make it?"
The words are a dagger to his already bruised and bleeding heart. He gives a small sniff, trying to hold back the fresh tears.
"I don't know." He feels her turn her body towards him and knows she's taking in his appearance detail by detail.
"You can let it out, Joe. I know this is tearing you up. Please don't hold it in and let it destroy you." One hand grasps his while the other gently takes his chin and turns his head so their eyes meet. He tries to push the emotions back down and come up with something to say, but he loses all resolve when her hand moves to cup his cheek and wipe away a stray tear that falls out.
Joe is suddenly wrapping his arms around her, pressing his face in the crook of her neck and letting it all out. He feels her shift them so he's laying mostly on her, her back against the tree and arms tightly wrapped around him. One hand is gripping the back of his jacket tightly, holding him to her, the other is gently stroking his head, and when he feels the side of his face getting wet he knows she's crying too.
They stay like that for hours, until the sun is nearly gone and all tears have been let out. Even after the tears, they don't move, finding too much comfort in holding each other. The only thing that gets them finally moving is their stomachs growling. Joe gets up first, holding his hand out to help her up and starts walking them back to find some food. He looks down briefly when he feels her intertwine their fingers and give his hand a squeeze. The first smile he's had in days makes it way across his face and he squeezes her hand back.
As the days dragged on ahead, their bond grew even tighter. There was a new level of safety and vulnerability that blossomed. Hands would brush more often, hugs turned tighter and longer, if they were able to they'd often be found napping together tangled limbs and all. It was as natural as breathing to seek the other out and before Joe knew it, he was hit with the realization that he was head-over-heels in love with his best friend.
The popping of yet another champagne bottle drags Joe from his mulling and takes in the sight around him with a smile. They are in the Eagles Nest, the war in Europe is over and everyone is finally able to relax and celebrate. He's sitting by Webster and Perco, watching the other's talk and laugh, already more than a little drunk. His smile widens when he catches her eye, sitting next to Malarkey and they salute each other from across the room.
"You ever gonna make a move, Lieb?" Perco's question lands like a bomb right in his stomach.
"What the hell are you talking about?" He looks at the man next to him like he's crazy, but inside he's frantic. Is it that obvious?
"Oh come on, Liebgott. The two of you have been attached at the hip the whole war, even back at training. We've all noticed the stolen looks between you. The wars over, just go for it." Webster gives him a shove, pointedly ignoring the glare Joe shoots at him.
"I gotta take a leak." Joe abruptly stands and leaves before either of them can continue their pestering. They're right, he knows they're right. Since accepting his feelings, the only thing that's been holding him back has been the on-going war. Sure there's still Japan to figure out but right now, their immediate part is over and he doesn't have to worry about dying and leaving her or worse losing her any second to a bullet or bomb.
Not actually needing the bathroom, he finds himself wondering the halls of the Eagles Nest and randomly picking a room to go into. It's spacious with a sitting area, a large comfortable bed sitting against the back wall, a door leading to an adjoining bathroom next to it and doors to the right leading to a balcony. He heads to the balcony, throwing the doors open and leans against the railing taking in the mountains and open valley. It's so quiet and peaceful, he doesn't know how to reconcile it with the horrors the owner and occupants have done to the people of this land.
"Why am I always having to search for you?" A soft, happy voice speaks behind him. Joe turns around and feels his breathe catch in his throat at how beautiful and easy going she looks, leaning around the doorframe to the balcony. When he didn't respond, she stands up a little straighter. "What? Is there something on my face?"
Joe shakes his head and moves to stand in-front of her, raising his hand to trail a finger down her cheek. "You're beautiful."
"How drunk are you?" Her voice is playful, but Joe knew his words were having an effect on her based on the blush she now had.
"Not even tipsy. But drunk or sober, you're still beautiful." His hand cups her cheek, tilts her head up a little to fully meet his eyes and he decides to cross that final line. "I love you. I love you fully and completely; body, mind, and soul. I need you, more than I need to breathe. If you don't feel the same, that's fine. I will lock my heart away to keep you in my life however you wish to be. But the war here is done and I'm out of reasons to not tell you how I feel. Tell me you don't feel the same and I'll respect that, but if you feel even close to what I feel please let me know."
Joe see's tears form in her eyes and for a heartbreaking second he's sure she's going to tell him 'no' and walk away. Then he feels her hands on his face and holds his breathe as she rises on her toes, stopping when her lips are barely brushing his.
"I love you, Joe. I'm yours; body, mind and soul." And then her lips are pressing against his and Joe thinks he's died and gone to heaven.
Their kiss is passionate and slow, taking full advantage that they don't have to rush and can take their time exploring. Joe starts nudging her backwards, back into the main room and towards the bed. A line of clothes marks their path as they help each other be rid of them, kissing freshly exposed shoulders and necks as they go. Soon enough they've managed to be rid of everything and tumble onto the bed in a heap.
Joe leans back just enough to take in the site of her underneath him. Face flushed, lips swollen and glossy from kissing, hair spread out like a halo, chest rising and falling hard as she tries to catch her breathe. He leans his head down pressing kisses to her neck, trailing down her collarbone, around the swell of her breast and ending at her nipple. He takes his time delivering languid licks and sucks, making her skin pucker and rise. Not wanting to leave the other one out of the fun, his hand cups, massages and pinches a little on the flesh there, his other hand hasn't stopped caressing any part of her skin he can reach.
If he has any doubts of how he's making her feel, the gasps and moans falling from her lips dispel them quickly. Soon enough her hands are in his hair and scratching down his back as she wraps her legs around his waist pulling him closer. Joe stops his minstrations on her breast with a groan when his erection is pressed right against her wet core and he can't help but roll his hips into her again. This time they both moan.
"Joe, please. I need you." Her voice is ragged and the lustful look in her eyes almost has him finishing right then. He shifts to the side a little, giving him room to run his hand down her side and cup her core. She's soaking and his brain short circuits a little.
His fingers make quick work of making sure she is coated properly, detouring to her clit to rub until she starts to whimper and pull at him. As he meets her eyes, he raises his fingers to his lips and sucks her taste off of them.
"Goddamn, baby. Next time I'm spending hours down there." He rushes out as he positions himself at her entrance. "But if I don't have you soon, I might die." He looks at her for confirmation that she's ready and when she nods, he starts pushing in slowly.
They groan together at the feel of him sliding into place like a puzzle piece coming home. Once he's bottomed out, he drops down to his elbows, putting more of himself on top of her and rests his forehead against hers. Her thighs tighten around him as she turns her head to kiss him.
"Move. Please." She bites his bottom lip at the same time she scratches his back again.
"Yes ma'am." He presses his lips firmly to her, swallowing the moan she lets out as he pulls out and quickly snaps back in. He finds a steady rhythm, angling his hips just right so he's brushing that sweet spot within her. Her back bows, pressing her chest further into his and exposes her neck to his lips. He doesn't waste any time placing a hard bite where it'll be hard to hide the mark already forming. This spurs something in her and soon her hands are in his hair, tugging his head to the side as she returns the favor.
Joe can tell she starts to get close to her release, as her walls start fluttering around him and her moans start becoming more frequent. He raises himself up, gripping the headboard with one hand and dropping his other hand down to rub her clit.
"I know you're close baby. Look at me as you let go." His voice is deep and commanding. Her eyes immediately lock onto his and his movements pick up speed. A few more hard thrusts and a pinch on her clit and she's moaning his name and clamping down around him. The feeling of her combined with his name falling from her lips like a prayer has him falling right behind her.
As they come down from their highs, they exchange slow kisses and 'I love you's'.
Bonus scene:
Not wanting to waste a beautiful day, the guys had decided to have an impromptu baseball game. Joe stood in his spot, waiting to bat next, sending a smile and wave to the stands where his girl was watching and cheering. They were getting ready for the next play when Winters came strolling across the field. They all crowded around him, fully expecting to hear their deployment orders for fighting Japan. Instead he was giving them the best news they'd heard since VE day. Japan had surrendered. The war, all of it, was finally over.
All the guys started cheering, exchanging hugs and pats on the backs. Joe see's her coming towards them at an easy jog, a curious look on her face. He gives her the biggest smile and runs right up to her, lifting her in his arms and spins her around.
"Japan surrendered. It's over. We're going home." Her smile matches his as she fully takes in his words and hugs him back. Just as quick as it started, Joe stops spinning her and sets her down on her feet, then he's down on one knee, holding her hands.
"Marry me. Come back home with me. Or wherever you wanna live. I don't care. Just marry me, please." Everything dulls around the edges as he holds his breathe, waiting for her response.
"Yes, Joe!" She smiles bright enough to blind the sun and then starts laughing when he jumps back up and starts spinning her around again. The only sound is the cheering of their friends and their hearts beating in sync.
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hanniewinnix · 1 day
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My kids and grandkids will never know how Joe and David made significant changes in my viewpoint of love. They will never know how Joe resented David because he sneaked in Old Spice in the European war theater, how it frustrated Joe that while his snarky, mean behavior is always about David and his viciously gorgeous blue eyes, he actually does want to listen to him talk about school and how he was a student at fucking Harvard before joining the paratroopers. They won't see me stare into nothing, thinking about how Joe would dream about David in the cold, winter hell in Bastogne. They will never know the terrified pants during Toccoa, the thrill of being caught during Aldbourne, the stare at the airstrip, the waves of pleasure and relief back in England after d-day, the burning jealousy when Joe looked at how Tab spinned David in Eindhoven and carding his fingers through his inky black hair, and when Joe just silently patched up David the night of the patrol. Oh no, they'll be clueless when Easy thought David died when a German squad intercepted an army jeep, taking him prisoner until David was rescued in Haguenau and Joe never leaving his side when he realized it was David that he's been carrying to safety. They won't hear about my sobs when Joe is gonna keep calling David 'Web' because David's name stirs his guts and his pulses scream with repressed affection, because come on, it's fucking DAVID. The kids will never know that Joe worked, dragged his forlorn mental health, and built his war-torn life from pieces just to propose to David with a table because he can't give David a room to write yet. And then, they'll never know why David didn't invite Joe on his wedding, and why Joe didn't notify David of a promise before he went to war, and how they both didn't realize what they lost.
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lostloveletters · 6 months
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You Can’t Start a Fire Without a Spark (Ron Speirs x Reader)
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Summary: Night falls in Bavaria to victorious revelry, and at the goading of your friends, the lust you've been kindling in secret suddenly burns hot and wild to the touch.
Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used besides the slightest bit of backstory. Inspired by several Bruce Springsteen songs. This is based on the fictional portrayals in the HBO miniseries and not the real individuals. (Also, hi I’m Battie! This is my first Band of Brothers fic despite being a fan of the miniseries since 2016. Let me know what you think🖤) Do not interact if you’re under 18, are a terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 3.6k
Warnings: Inherent power imbalance. Explicit content involving vaginal fingering and unprotected sex.
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You weren’t sure how six of you managed to squeeze into a booth together in the Bavarian bar, elbow-to-elbow as you drank beer and shouted over each other. Sitting squished against Talbert, who was squished against Malarkey, one of your legs wasn’t even in the booth. On the other side of the table, Babe, Perconte, and Luz were in the same situation.
Victory in Europe had just been declared. The celebratory feeling filled your lungs with each breath despite the cloud of cigarette smoke that hung over the bar. With the war in Japan still raging on, the likelihood of those without enough points having to endure another drop remained up in the air. One night of fun wouldn’t hurt anybody. No one could say you hadn’t earned it.
Glancing around at your friends, the guys you lived and would’ve died for—even after the war ended, if you were being honest with yourself. You couldn’t imagine being closer with anyone else. Growing up without much of a family, passed around homes of distant relatives and near strangers until you had enough and ventured out on your own as a teen, you’d never had such strong connections before. The only reason you were even allowed to work so closely with Easy Company, was the absence of any next-of-kin, no one to cause a fuss if something went wrong while you were overseas. You were non-combat detail, of course, typing and running errands as needed, but more often than was likely ideal, you found yourself somewhere on the line with the medic training you’d gotten. 
You hadn’t been at Toccoa with them, only meeting most of the guys just before D-Day. After Operation Market Garden’s failure in Holland, they came around to you upon the return to Aldbourne, least surprising of whom was Talbert, ever so kindly taking you under his wing when he was recovering from being accidentally stabbed by Smith. The two of you became close friends, and though you heard of his exploits with women in just about every city the company passed through, he seemed hellbent on being your wingman, trying to set you up with at least half a dozen members of Easy to little success. 
With the taste of sweet victory and bold German beer on everyone’s lips, declarations of what and who everyone would ideally do to celebrate poured from your friends with little prompting. Knowing you well enough at that point, Tab took the opportunity to get you in on the conversation, the light mood and buzz in your system leaving you more loose-lipped than usual.
“Alright, our company’s eligible bachelorette,” Tab said, conspiratorial mirth in his voice. “Fraternization rules to the dust, which of Easy’s officers would you do your celebrating with?”
Your lips twitched, failing to suppress your smile as your drinking buddies awaited your answer. “Speirs.”
Finishing off the rest of your beer, you stifled your amusement at the clamor that ensued. Undoubtedly the least expected answer, part of Tab’s failure to secure a date for you among his comrades was your infatuation with the legendary captain—closely guarded, until you had a beer or two in you, apparently. 
“Speirs?” Babe repeated incredulously.
“No way,” Malarkey said, shaking his head. “No fucking way.”
“They need to get you to one of those headshrinkers,” Perconte said.
“Hold on a minute,” Tab said with an amused smile, trying to reign in the chaos. “Let’s hear her out.”
“You wanna know why?” you asked.
Ever since Speirs stuck with Easy Company after Bastogne, you worked closely with him as you did the other officers, taking notes and keeping memos for them. Speirs often requisitioned you to type up reports for him, finding it easier to dictate what he wanted written to you than typing them himself. Sometimes you found his attention drifting off when it was a more mundane report, his words trailing away while he looked at you, typically slouched on a chair or couch at the end of a long day. You would let yourself take him in, hoping the perceptive man wouldn’t notice the way your eyes trailed up his long, outstretched legs to his disheveled hair. 
He provided the most attention to battlefield exploits, and at times you couldn’t keep up with how fast he was speaking or would find yourself a bit startled by some of the gruesome details he relayed. You’d heard the rumors about him. Everyone had. But a disgustingly repressed part of you that’d emerged at some point during the war was secretly thrilled by them, almost hoping they were true. 
“Well, you owe us that much,” Luz said.
“I owe you all jack and shit.”
“What if I buy you another drink?”
“I think I’m gonna need another one after hearing this,” Babe muttered.
“Let’s see, why would I sleep with Captain Speirs,” you said, playfully tapping your chin in faux thought. “For starters, he’s fine as hell, which should be reason enough. I like that he’s a no-nonsense kinda guy. He has this intensity that I think is really sexy.”
The cacophony of bewilderment and objection that filled the booth met its slow death when the occupant of the booth behind yours got up. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry when you saw it was Speirs.
He made his way out of the pub, your light mood with him. 
“Oh my god,” you groaned. “Do you think he heard?”
“No way he didn’t,” Malarkey said.
“Fuck, I need to do something before I get demoted or transferred or something.”
Tab grinned. “Well, if you’re not walking straight tomorrow, we’ll know you did something.”
“Shut up, jerk!” you hissed. “I’m in this mess because of you.”
He gave you a mocking salute.
You flipped him off as you got up from the table, running after your CO who more than likely overheard you expressing to your buddies that you’d enthusiastically have sex with him. Of course it happened the one time you actually joined in on their vulgarity.
Unlike his silent stride, your boots pounded against the pavement, announcing your approach to him.
He turned around abruptly, and you nearly fell over your own feet as you stopped in your tracks. 
His intense gaze on you felt like being at the end of his rifle’s sight. “Are you drunk, Y/L/N?”
“No—no, sir.”
“Good. I could use your help with a report.”
You stared at him blankly. A report. At ten o’clock at night. “Of course, sir. Anything you need.”
The corners of his lips upturned for a split second. “I’m sure.” Fuck. He’d definitely heard you.
The two of you started off down the street, toward a more residential area wherein officers had requisitioned houses for the US Army’s use for the foreseeable future. Almost dreamily picturesque, tree branches waved at you in the cool night breeze, the surrounding mountains illuminated by the bright fullness of the moon. From the soft glow of street lamps lighting your way, something you’d previously taken for granted, you tried not to stare at him. In the warm glow of that balmy summer evening, however, he looked almost too good to be true. Hair slightly unkempt, the whisper of stubble along his jaw and cheeks, surely his face would feel like heaven between your thighs. 
Soldiers in all states of drunkenness ambled up and down either side of the street, hollering and singing in carefree celebration. Speirs placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you past a group of men who could hardly walk straight. One of them walked right into you, his head nearly colliding with yours.
“Fuck,” the young soldier grumbled under his breath, shooting you a dirty look for being in his way.
Speirs wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you aside to stand in front of you. “Private,” he snapped, staring down the young man who looked like he was about to shit himself. “I advise you get yourself together and watch where you’re going.”
“Yes, sir—Captain Speirs, sir,” he said, turning his attention to you. “Sorry, ma’am.”
You nodded silently, and the private ran off after his buddies. 
Speirs turned to you, his hands on your shoulders as his intense gaze searched your face for any sign of injury.
“Are you alright?” he asked.
“I’m fine.”
In Hagenau, one of the replacements had been pestering you the moment he laid eyes on you. At first, you humored him, supposing he needed a friend, as the men who’d been through Normandy and Bastogne were understandably closed-off and tight knit. Thought the new guys were too green, too eager to do something stupid and get someone killed in pursuit of battlefield glory that was too haunting to exist. 
Then he started getting handsy, not enough to be outright inappropriate, but enough to make you uncomfortable. You weren’t sure what possessed you to mention it to Speirs when he’d asked you how you were doing one afternoon. His brow furrowed, he gave you a silent nod in response. The replacement had been transferred elsewhere the following day.
Though Speirs stared right at you, there was something far away in his eyes as he squeezed your shoulders. 
“I’m fine, sir,” you repeated. “I promise.”
“Hmm? Oh, right,” he said softly. 
He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, not bothering to offer you one. You were in the minority of people who didn’t smoke, allowing you to leverage the packs in your rations to trade amongst the men. As time went on, you’d leave them on top of your finished reports for Speirs, especially if they were Luckys. You watched silently as he lit the cigarette in his mouth, a shining silver lighter in his hand. His eyes drifted from the flame back to you, though you noticed the slightest spark behind them.
The rest of the walk was uneventful until you reached the house. A few stragglers hung around on the street outside, their voices becoming the slightest bit more hushed as they watched you follow Speirs inside. By the time the front door shut, they’d already begun speculating why the two of you were going to his place so late. With the way the men spread gossip, you could hazard a guess as to what the tale would morph into by the morning. You silently bemoaned the prospect of the night hardly being as interesting as whatever they conjured up.
Following him upstairs, the makeshift office seemed especially cramped with the boxes and papers that were haphazardly spread around the place. It’d probably take weeks to sift through it all, especially since a glance at one of the files appeared to be in German. Getting help wouldn’t be the issue, but rather the fact that none of the members of Easy who knew German were particularly inclined toward office work, becoming restless after an hour or so. 
A problem for another time, however. Glancing at the clock, it was nearly half past ten, and you were almost inclined to ask Speirs about coffee, depending on how long he expected the report to take. You sat down at the desk, ready to begin typing the date when you noticed the ink was out.
“Is there any typewriter ribbon around, sir?” you asked.
He nodded. “Should be in one of the drawers.”
You opened the drawer immediately to your right, finding a mess of stationary that had clearly been shoved in carelessly. Or maybe someone had taken something out of it in a hurry. Digging through it, you came up empty, and moved onto the drawer below it. No dice. The one to your left didn’t have typewriter ribbon either, at least, you would have been surprised to find it tucked in with the loot that nearly filled the thing to the brim–shining silverware, glistening jewelry, and trinkets that someone with a keener eye than you had clearly decided were valuable enough to keep. 
His extensive looting was an open secret, but a glimpse of this treasure trove was a shock to the system. So entranced by the contents of the drawer, you didn’t hear him walk up beside you until his shadow fell over the necklaces and rings you silently coveted.  
He gave you a sly smile, wolfish in the dim lighting. “Haven’t had much of a chance to organize those.”
“They’re beautiful,” you whispered in awe, gingerly touching a pearl necklace.
“Try them on.”
“Are you sure?”
“Go ahead.”
You picked up the string of pearls, a nervousness washing over you at holding something so valuable, something of his. Walking over to the window, the nearest reflective surface you could find, you pulled the necklace on, garish against your uniform. You tried shaking off the odd feeling of playing dress-up in front of your commanding officer, a girlish whim he inexplicably allowed you to indulge in. His expression was unreadable when you turned around for him.
“They suit you,” he finally said, brushing his fingers against the pearls, slowly drifting lower to the exposed skin of your decollete. “Keep them.”
It wasn’t uncommon for him to bring you small gifts every now and then—typewriter ribbon, fountain pens, chocolate, trinkets. You knew better than to question where he got them, as he seemed to give them to you at the perfect moment. The stationary supplies when you were running low on them, chocolate and trinkets when you were feeling down. At times they’d be accompanied by notes from him. Usually short, but so sincere you treasured them more than the gifts. Whenever you’d try to thank him, he’d just shrug, almost dismissing the gesture.
This time, feeling bold in the cover of night, you pressed your lips to his cheek, uttering a quiet “thank you.”
He didn’t react. Disappointed, you moved to sit back down at the desk until he grabbed your arm, gently pulling you back to him.
“Were you telling the truth?” he asked, his voice a husky, demanding whisper. “Back at the bar.”
“Yes.”
“So if I said I’ve wanted you in a bad way since Bastogne?”
You kissed him, an explosion of warmth in your chest as you tangled your fingers in his hair. He settled his hands on your hips, squeezing them with a tenderness that betrayed his longing. Parting your lips for him, you allowed him to deepen the kiss, wanting to see how far he’d take it. 
Almost overwhelmed by his gentle intensity, you pulled away from his lips, though his mouth chased yours, capturing yet another kiss from you.
“Show me how you want me,” you pleaded with desperate kisses to his face, trailing down to his throat where you could feel the way he groaned in pleasure at your touch. 
“In my room,” he managed to say. “I wanna lay you on the bed and–”
“Anything, anything you want, Ron.”
His lips slightly blushed from the ferocity of your kiss, he parted his mouth as if to speak, but instead took your hand firmly in his. 
He led you straight down the nondescript hallway that nevertheless left you feeling turned around, dizzied by your desire for him. A door opened, and you were promptly pulled inside the room. The click of the lock behind you sent a slight shiver down your spine. 
Pulled into his arms again, you lost yourself in his fervent kiss, until you reached down, palming his hardening cock through his pants. He moaned into your mouth, the sound only exacerbating the heat between your thighs, the ache inside of you that up until that point had been abated by your fingers, always rushed, never satisfying the urge to be filled–by him, preferably. From the way he felt beneath your hand, he could do all of that and more. 
And after the months of silently, almost guiltily lusting after him like a nun, he wanted you too. The ego boost emboldened you. “Did you ever think about me when you were alone?” you asked, giving his bulge a gentle squeeze.
“Yes–fuck,” he groaned.
“Like what?”
“Besides keeping me warm in that goddamn forest? This–I thought of this,” he murmured against your lips. “But I didn’t let myself think of a future with you. I couldn’t have survived if I did.”
“And now?”
“I want everything you’ll give me, sweetheart.”
“Lucky you, that’s exactly what I wanna give.”
He smiled slightly, his hands hastily working to unbutton your shirt. “Lucky–except you’re wearing too many clothes.”
You reached for the pearls, about to take them off when he caught your wrist in his hand.
“Leave them on.” His voice was steady, authoritative, the closest he sounded to Speirs since he scolded the private who walked into you earlier. 
Weak in the knees, you acquiesced to the one and only order your captain would give you that night. You otherwise undressed, your uniform in a pile at your feet. Your bra and panties were simple, certainly not the sexy lingerie you’d fantasized about seducing Ron in, but his eyes blazed as if your body were hugged by an inviting satin set. A burst of confidence rushed through you, and you held his gaze as you discarded your bra and panties. 
You laid back on the bed as he undressed, watching intently until he was down to nothing more than his underwear, his hard cock straining against the fabric. He pulled them off, and you sucked in a breath at how big he was. Erect, at attention for you, all the more intimidating as he approached, joining you on the bed. His daring in the line of fire sure as hell wasn’t compensating for anything.
He straddled your hips, his eyes taking in your naked form with a primal intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. He reached down, two of his fingers circling your clit, your body trembled beneath his touch. By the way he studied how your face contorted in pleasure as a foreign-sounding moan rose from deep in your chest, you could tell it was payback for your teasing him just minutes before. 
His fingers shifted, slipping inside your wet core with ease. He pumped them in and out at a steady pace that made your stomach tighten and toes curl, but slowly bringing you closer to orgasm. You bucked your hips when he curled his fingers inside of you, blood rushing in your ears so loud that you could hardly hear the obscene sounds coming from your pussy. A lump formed in your throat, one that made you nearly howl in frustration.
“Who got you this worked up, sweetheart?” he asked, nipping the shell of your ear.
A whimper. “You.”
“What was that?”
“You.” Through a haze of lust-soaked desperation, you took his face in your hands. “Don’t make me beg, Sparky. It’s always been you.”
He pulled his hand from between your legs, and you nearly whined until he slid his length inside your pussy, your walls clenching around his cock. You braced yourself on his shoulder blades, your nails doing a number on him as you dug them into his taut skin while he thrust into you. Carefully at first, almost frustratingly so, until you cried, “More.”
He was bigger than you were used to, even before the war, but the slight discomfort was drowned out by the way his steady, deep thrusts filled you. He ducked his head down, taking one of your breasts in his mouth, his hand groping the other. Sucking on your breast, his teeth grazed your nipple, the hint of pain complimenting the pleasure. Your climax was so close you could see it if you closed your eyes, raw and vulnerable.
“Ron, I’m so close,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”
He lifted his head, nodding. “Where should I–”
“Inside–fuck–I want you to cum inside me.”
And he did, with an erratic thrust that pushed him deeper inside you still. You kissed him as your pussy milked his cock, lifting your hips to grind against him for the slightest bit of friction to your clit. You threw your head back as you came, an obscene moan escaping your lips as pleasure spread across your body, white-hot like a star in supernova.
His name fell from your lips, laced with curses, over and over like a vulgar prayer. He pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your decollete, his lips brushing the pearls that stuck to your sweat-sheened skin until he shuddered, bottoming out in you. 
He pulled out slowly, his toned chest heaving before he collapsed next to you. Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes, silently offering you one. You declined, and he placed one between his lips, using a nearby match to light it before taking you in his arms. You settled comfortably against his chest, closing your eyes for a few moments.
“So, what about that report?” you asked slyly when you’d finally caught your breath.
His quiet laughter rumbled in his chest, and he took a drag from his cigarette, his gaze betraying his adoration as he looked at you. “I might need your help again tomorrow night."
Knowing it was too risky for you to spend the night, he reluctantly let you leave around three in the morning, a slight pout on his face as you took off the pearl necklace and tucked it into your pocket. You left him with a passionate parting kiss, one that he used to nearly convince you to stay just a little bit longer until you quietly promised you’d report to him first thing. 
The streets were mostly deserted except for the men on patrol. You kept your head down, booking it back to where you were quartered, hoping your arrival wouldn’t wake anyone up, or at least raise any questions.
Just your luck, you ran right into Tab, a shit-eating grin on his face at your disheveled appearance. “I knew it."
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bloodstainedsaint · 4 months
Text
noises in the bedroom with ron, lew, lieb, luz, and shifty
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word count: 770+
warnings: reader has female genitalia, degradation (only in ron's), praise, teasing, i call nixon a whore for the reader (it's true)
notes: i couldn't include babe in this one cause i just decided that i would write for him (and therefore i must do Research) but hope you guys enjoy anyway !!
ronald speirs
big on praise-degradation, like 50/50 on it
unless you managed to really set him off (ex; make him jealous on purpose, tease him, be a brat, etc.), then don't expect very many kind words
he can be so mean and unfair when he wants to, but by the end of it he’s worshiping you like you're a deity
he’ll call you a slut but his slut, yk?
could not care less about who hears — no one's gonna confront him about it anyway with his reputation, and they're definitely not coming up to you either since they know ron is going to be death glaring them the whole time
he groans and grunts huskily + openly and encourages you to not cover up/muffle your sounds with your hand
(quickies are, of course, the exception since that would be unsafe, and if higher-ups are around, obviously he's about to care; in any other situation though, no one is safe from hearing the two of you)
lewis nixon
somehow his moans are louder than yours???
LIKE that's not a bad thing, it just means he's enjoying it just as much as you but he's just so vocal about it, saying your name or princess, doll, sweetheart like his life depended on it
(he's such a whore for you, especially when he goes down on you. you're gonna be feeling the vibrations of his groans bc omg is he obsessed with eating you out…but that's another story)
this is mostly because he also does not care who hears (same exceptions as ron). i imagine dick having to come talk to you all flustered, his face matching his hair and his eyes cast to the ground, asking you guys to keep it down
…nixon definitely didn't get any play for two weeks after that
despite being the #1 slut for you, he still manages to tease you, saying things like, “tell me how bad you want it.” (as if he doesn't want it just as bad)
joseph liebgott
he's probably the biggest pottymouth out of the five
anything he does is followed up by a hoarse “fuck, doll” or “shit, (y/n)”
he's trying to cover up the fact that he's a bit of a whiner/panter
he’ll kiss marks onto and around your breasts to muffle the sound of his moans
definitely says “yeah, you like that?” or “that feel good, baby?” during foreplay, smirking down at you while you’re begging for more (he's a little cocky with it)
becomes soft during and afterwards; he's scared to be vulnerable but he can't help telling you how pretty you look, how good you feel, and how much he loves you
will probably confess some of these things in german so he's not as vulnerable, but you still get the gist either way (and if you do understand german, he's screwed)
george luz
honestly he's just kind of unserious, like this man is giggling he's so happy to be with you (and his laughter and smile are infectious so now you're laughing too and telling him to shut up)
he’ll praise you with jokes, telling you you're prettier than any pinup model
“rita doesn't have anything on you, beautiful.” cue you rolling your eyes with a smile and telling him he’s cheesy
he's a little bit of a cusser too (especially when you play with his hair), not to the level of lieb though
“damn, (y/n), i'm lucky you're all mine.”
eventually the jokes and goofiness dissolve into him straight up telling you how good you feel around him and that you're especially gorgeous like this
+ him confessing his love for you when he's still catching his breath
“(y/n), have i ever told you how much i love you?”
“maybe 100 times today, george”
“oh so not enough then” you kiss him before he can remind you again
shifty powers
loves to praise you (and be praised honestly)
like he swears up and down that you're the most perfect girl alive
he can't believe that you're his and he's yours
kind of shy about his moans but he can't stop himself/hide them well enough because he moans at the slightest touch (he's so in love with you)
whimpers when you say he's making you feel good and “don't stop”
he's definitely asking if you're sure about anything and everything, reminding you that you don't have to go through with this if you don't absolutely want to
you just have to be like “darrell c. powers, please just take me” and lord will he oblige you with the brightest goddamn smile on his face
-
taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101, @samwinchesterslostshoe
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barbeygirl · 5 months
Note
hey could you maybe write about Speirs x civilian girl, where he is hiding in her shed and she comes in to grab something but then he’s there, at first she is scared cause she thinks he is the enemy
ahh my first ask, excitingg ✨✨
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I'll be on my way
Ronald Speirs x fem!civilian!reader
Summary: there's a strange soldier in your home
Words: 860
You lived away from the chaos of the city, tucked away in peaceful nature. It was Thursday, you had just visited the market in town. Your hands were full as you dragged your bags across the hall to the kitchen. 
How could’ve you been so lost in your thoughts? What could’ve possibly been so important? You can’t remember anymore. A sudden human silhouette in the corner of your eye made your blood run cold. You dropped the bags to the floor with a quiet thud. As he looked back at you, some surprise visible on his face as well, your body felt heavier than ever. You felt stuck in place. 
You stared at each other for a few forever feeling seconds. Time had seemed to stop, since it didn’t matter anymore. Was this it?
Then, for a split second, he looked away from you to glance down at the scattered vegetables. This broke the spell, his eyes no longer holding you hostage. You sprinted out of the kitchen and back into the short hallway, rolling all the rugs on your way. He yelled something after you and tried grabbing you.
You reached for the rifle behind the front door. This was what it was there for, was it not? For men like him. For bad men who break into the homes of people who had never done anything bad to anyone. Your fingers curled around the walnut gun stock but no matter how quickly you could’ve managed to turn back around, he had already reached you. Try all you might, the long barrel of the gun couldn’t fit the narrow space between you, the side only smacking against his arm and the barrel pointing at the hallway behind him.
He had you pinned against the door, the rifle now pressed against your chest. You screamed at him, fingers still gripping tightly around the useless firearm.
”Stop, stop,” he hissed through his teeth, eyes dark and serious. You didn’t. Obviously. You tried shoving him back by pushing the stock of the gun further away from your own chest. An agitated grunt left your throat as he didn’t budge. 
”Calm down,” he said, voice ever so slightly quiter but still with the same demanding tone. His eyes seemed glued to yours, ”I’ll be on my way soon. I’m not going to hurt you.”
You cursed at him in your native language and moved the rifle so your wrist wasn’t bent so painfully. “Stop it, will you?” He sighed, somewhere between frustration and annoyance, as his hands slid back from your shoulders to your shoulder blades.
The rifle was pressed against your chest, and his, as he pulled you into some form of a hug. You hated how quickly it made your body relax. The physical contact tricking your nervous system, making your muscles and thoughts ease. He pulled you a little tighter against him, probably feeling your shoulders drop in his arms.
“I’ll use the well in the backyard to fill my canteen and then be on my way,” He murmured into your hair before leaning back a little and looking you in the eyes, “Will you let me leave?” His eyes were still the same, but his tone was softer. He brought his hand on top of yours and lowered the rifle, before placing it to lean against the wall, where it had been, untouched, just a moment before.
He took a slow step backwards, his hands losing contact with you, now loosely raised and visible. He took another step back and opened the front door. Before he stepped out, he looked back at you, “I’ll be in the backyard for a moment and then I’ll leave.” He said, and as an afterthought, you heard the words, “Didn’t mean to scare, Miss,” from the crack of the door.
The door was now closed, but you stood still for another minute or two. You had just gone from fearing for your life to secretly hoping he’d hold you just a moment longer.
Finally, you walked back into the kitchen, trying to ignore that the house didn’t feel the same it had five minutes ago, and set your bags onto the table. You opened the cabinets he had been standing next to and with a sigh you noted a few cans missing. Could’ve been worse. You then picked up a couple vegetables from the floor before gathering the courage to carefully peek out of the small kitchen window. And there he was, hunched over the water pump as he filled his canteen with water.
With your still shaky hands, you creaked open the back door. His head instantly turned around as he saw movement. He kept using the water pump, but continued to glance up at you before noticing you were unarmed. “Hey,” He said as he screwed the cap close.
“Hello,” you responded and leaned against the doorframe. He attached the canteen to the side on his belt before looking back up at you. You were suddenly nervous again, trying to remind yourself why you were outside in the first place. “American?” You asked him and he nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”
You smiled shyly at him, “Hungry?”
masterlist
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mads-nixon · 6 months
Text
Meine Liebe
Dick Winters x Translator!Reader
Masterlist
Request: @flowers-and-fichte Hey! Thanks for the Chuckler headcanons! They're so cute! I've got another request :) it's BoB-related this time. Winters with a reader who is fluent in German and teaches him to speak it. And then one day he surprises her by speaking it (wedding proposal, just starts talking in it out of nowhere, whatever) to her and it's so freaking cute. Thanks! Take your time :)
A/N: i loved this concept!! thanks for the request! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: none!
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When (y/n) first signed up to be an intelligence translator for the Airborne, she had no idea what was in store for her. Jumping out of planes was expected, but what she couldn’t have expected was a red-headed man named Dick Winters. Nix introduced them in Aldbourne when she joined the company, and something about the Pennsylvanian struck her differently than the other men she’d met. Most eyed her warily, but the man she met that day flashed her a kind smile and a firm handshake, sending an unexpected warmth through her. 
“So you’re our new interpreter,” he stated, his polite eyes never leaving hers as he shook her hand.
(Y/n) nodded, her lips quirking into a grin. “Yes, sir. (Y/n) (y/l/n).
“Dick Winters,” he replied, releasing her hand after a few moments. “Welcome to Easy. Please let me know if you need anything.”
Before she could respond, Nix called out to her. “We’ve gotta get to battalion, come on.”
With a final nod to Winters, she saluted and turned on her heel, walking over to Lew who was sitting in the driver's seat of a jeep. “So, you met Dick,” he announced, shifting the jeep into drive. “Whatcha think?”
(Y/n) scoffed lightly as she gazed at the rows and rows of tents that lined the airfield. “I only spoke like two sentences to him, Lew.”
Luckily, Lew and (y/n) grew up in neighboring towns in New Jersey and knew each other through mutual friends. Everyone knew the Nixons for their nitration plant that was in Edison, but (y/n) knew the Nixon boy as the teenager who took her best friend to the prom and got so drunk that he threw up on her beautiful blue dress. Betty still hadn’t gotten over it by the time (y/n) left for basic. 
“No sparks flying yet?” he grinned, elbowing her shoulder playfully as he drove. “Give it time. I know it will.”
“What is wrong with you, Lewis?” she asked, her voice tinged with frustration. “I just met the guy! And we’re going off to war for Pete's sake, not some low-crawling pub where men are lined up to dance with me.”
Her job was to decode and translate intercepted German communications, as well as translate in the field and interrogate prisoners if need be. There were times when being the daughter of Austrian immigrants was awful, but other times, it came in handy. Without her parents teaching her their language, she wouldn’t be in her position in the Army. 
As the months passed in Aldbourne, (y/n) was swamped with intercepted communications, paperwork, and various intelligence reports. She rarely did anything other than work in her office, growing tiresome of the monotonous click-clack of the typewriter. What little time she did have outside the office was spent either visiting the Blue Boar with the other officers or quietly reading in the fields of wildflowers near her billet. 
The sun set perfectly on the lilies and colorful harebells, orchids, and cornflowers that were scattered among the grass. Any chance she got, she’d go lay out a blanket and get lost in the pages of “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn,” escaping the war as the words came to life in her mind. Time seemed to blur as the months stretched on in Aldbourne. 
With the follies of the Italian campaign, the Allies knew they had to try a different approach. Nixon and (y/n) had talked about the possible landing locations and tactics, but no plan was in motion quite yet. This did not stop them from preparing for the possibility. Easy’s training got increasingly realistic the further they got into 1944. By early February, Dick, Harry, and the other platoon leaders were brought in on the intelligence officers’ speculations. A few weeks later, (y/n) was working in her office when she heard a knock on the door.
“Come in,” she called, not looking up from her typewriter as she finished a translation.
The door creaked open, and in walked Dick who was wringing his hat between his hands, almost as if he was nervous. “Hi, (y/n). Sorry to disturb you.”
Hearing his voice, (y/n) looked up from the paper, a small smile forming as she took in his timid expression. “Hi, Dick. You’re not disturbing me,” she said, pointing to the large stack of papers on the corner of her desk. “These aren’t going anywhere.”
Dick clasped his hands behind his back and walked closer to the desk. “I wanted to ask you a favor.”
(Y/n) nodded, gesturing for him to sit in the extra chair beside her desk.
Dick sat down and continued. “Would you be able to teach me some basic German? I know that you are fluent in it, so-”
“Of course!” She interrupted, excitement lighting up her features. “I’d love to!”
Dick seemed surprised as he sheepishly smiled at her from across the desk. “It would be useful to know some phrases when we finally get into combat.”
“I think it’s a great idea.”
From that cold February day on, the pair met every Saturday night in (y/n)’s billet. Her host family, the Bennets, insisted on making a big family dinner every time (as large as they could with rationing), treating Dick as one of their own. (Y/n) watched from across the dining room table as he spoke to Mr. Bennet with a polite smile. The golden light from the setting sun filtered through the open blinds, highlighting the soft brown freckles that adorned his face. (Y/n) couldn’t help but admire his handsome features, a thought that she’d kept hidden mainly to keep Nix off her trail about the supposed ‘sparks’ that were supposed to fly between them at some point. 
“I was worried about you Yanks, but if they’re all like you lot, I think we’re in good shape,” Mr. Bennet laughed, scooping a forkful of roast into his mouth. 
Dick chuckled breathily, his eyes flitting to the (y/h/c) across from him, catching her staring red-handed. “Thank you, sir,” he replied, his face warming under her gaze. 
After the dinner table was cleared, they continued their weekly tradition, sitting across from each other once again. “These are pretty basic, but they’re important,” she began, her eyes locking with his. Repeat after me. ‘Guten Abend.’”
Dick listened carefully, his eyes drifting down to her lips before echoing her pronunciation. “Guten Abend.”
“Very good,” (y/n) praised, her smile growing. “Now how about ‘Bitte’ which means ‘please,’ and ‘Danke,’ which means ‘thank you.’   
“Next, let’s learn ‘Wie geht es Ihnen?” (y/n) said, her voice taking on a reassuring tone. “It means ‘How are you?’
As they repeated the words together, her beloved language created a unique connection between them that she never thought possible. It felt good to speak the language in situations other than wartime intelligence. As she taught Dick, she fell in love with her family’s native tongue all over again, but that love wasn’t the only thing blossoming in the cozy dining room.
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Under the shade of a sturdy tree in the Bennet’s backyard, the late afternoon sun cast a glow over the yard. (Y/n) and Dick sat side by side, leaning against the trunk as they took a short break from their lesson.
(Y/n’s eyes began to droop, fatigue creeping in like a silent intruder. The lines of exhaustion were etched beneath her eyes, and Dick couldn’t help but notice her weariness. 
“Are you alright?” he asked gently, leaning closer to her, his brow furrowed in concern.
She sat up straighter, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “Yeah, I’m just tired,” she admitted, her voice a soft murmur.
Dick turned to her with eyes filled with worry. “Up late doing translations?”
(Y/n) nodded, her shoulders sliming slightly. “Yes,” she sighed, leaning her head back against the hard tree bark. “We’re getting more and more communications every day. It’s hard to keep up.”
Seeing her struggle, Dick scooted closer to her and paused before gesturing to his lap. “Here,” he suggested, his tone gentle. “It’s more comfortable than a tree,”
A small, tired smile crossed (y/n)’s face as she responded with a weary, “Yes, sir,” She laid her head on his lap, peering up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. 
Dick felt a warm, protective swell of emotion as she nestled into his lap. Her presence, despite her exhaustion, brought a sense of peace and contentment he hadn’t realized he was missing. He could always show up at her door and have dinner like there wasn’t a war going on. Their routine had developed into what he looked forward to the most as the week went on. Any conversations they managed to have during their daily regimens and workload were filled with smiles and talks of the upcoming weekend, Saturday’s dinner menu, and other little things that reminded him of home. 
A soft pink tinge rose from Dick’s neck to his cheeks as he brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Better?” he inquired, his voice a soothing, gentle rumble.
(Y/n) let out a contented sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she whispered, “Yes, thank you, Dick. I needed this.”
He watched over her with a mix of concern and affection, his fingers absentmindedly tracing circles on her shoulder. “You’ll work yourself to death in that office, (y/n).”
She squinted one eye open, her gaze focused on him. “I know,” she replied quietly, her voice tinged with desperation, “I can’t rest knowing my family is still stuck there, Dick.”
The lieutenant’s eyes saddened, his heart aching at the raw pain in her voice. He moved his hand from her shoulder to rub her hair back gently. “In Austria?”
(Y/n) nodded, her voice hushed and heavy with emotion. “Yeah,” she murmured, blinking to combat the tears that were filling her eyes. “My grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins…they all stayed. They’re still there, and we haven’t heard from them in almost a year.”
“So you’re doing this for them.”
“For them and all the other innocent people whose lives have been torn apart by Hitler,” she confessed, her voice wavering.
A tear trickled down the side of her cheek, and she felt a warm hand wipe it away gently. “I’m sure they wouldn’t want you to run yourself into the ground, sweetheart,” Dick murmured softly, the term of endearment slipping out before he could stop it. “When we finally do see action, you won’t be a hundred percent if you’re constantly running on fumes.”
She let out a shuddering breath, her emotions overwhelming her. (Y/n) sat up, shifting to bury her face into Dick’s shoulder, finding comfort in his embrace. His arms encircled her, pulling her into his side as he rubbed his hand soothingly along her back.
“Please take care of yourself. If not for them, do it for me. Please,” he whispered into her hair.
As the evening sun bathed them in a warm light, (y/n) pulled back from their embrace, her tear-filled eyes glistening with gratitude and adoration. She gazed into Dick’s calming, emerald-green eyes, vulnerability seeping from her. His eyes mirrored her intensity, and a soft, affectionate smile played on his lips. With her heart pounding in her chest, (y/n) brought her hand up to his cheek, her fingers tracing the contours of his skin with a gentle, trembling touch.
Their eyes met, and in that silent exchange, a powerful connection was forged. Slowly and with a sense of natural ease, she pulled him closer, guiding him toward her. Dick, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected tenderness of her actions, felt the soft, deliberate pressure of (y/n)’s lips against his. Their lips met, and their connection deepened as their mouths moved together, a tender and affectionate expression of their feelings. Their kiss was a gentle exchange of affection, an unspoken testament to the emotions that had quietly grown between them.
As (y/n) and Dick pulled back from their tender kiss, their actions spoke volumes in the quiet of that moment. Their lips slowly parted, the sensation of their kiss still lingering in the air like a sweet, unspoken promise. They looked into each other’s eyes, their gazes locked in a lingering connection that was filled with understanding. (Y/n) inched back slightly, her touch soft and tender as her fingers gently brushed over the freckles on Dick’s cheek as she withdrew from their intimate embrace. 
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice a gentle murmur, sniffling slightly as she rested her forehead against his. Dick’s heart raced, and he could feel her warm breath on his face. 
“They’ll be proud of you. I’m sure of it.”
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MAY 7, 1944: BERCHTESGADEN, AUSTRIA
(Y/n) reclined on a wooden, sun-soaked deck chair, gazing out at the breathtaking landscape of the Bavarian Alps that stretched before her. The mountains stood tall and majestic, their peaks kissing the cloudless sky. She felt a sense of awe at the natural wonder surrounding her.
Harry sat at the end of her chair, and Ron and Nix were sitting on the one beside them, all three drunk as a skunk. Their voices filled the air with drunken excitement, and their ramblings brought a wide smile to (y/n)’s face.
Nix groaned in good-humored frustration, raising his fingers in a futile attempt to count off the main leaders of the Nazi party. “Hitler, Hitler…no.”
Rolling his eyes, Ron chimed in, his voice louder as they spoke over each other, creating a chaotic atmosphere. “Hitler, Himmler, Goering-”
“And Goebbels,” Harry finished, his grin infectious as he completed the list.
(Y/n) couldn’t help but laugh heartily, tears gathering in her eyes as she watched her friends stumble through their banter. The joy of the moment, the beauty of the scenery, and the relief from no constant action and danger all combined to create a warmth in her heart that was impossible to contain.
“I’m so glad I get to see this,” she wheezed between fits of laughter, her hand clutching her stomach as another wave of cackles escaped her. 
The sound of footsteps made her turn, and she saw Dick approaching with Lip. She smiled at him, her heart beating slightly faster when he returned a wink. 
“Hey, Adolf! Love your Eagle’s Nest,” Harry yelled, standing up wobbly and grabbing Dick’s shoulders. “I hope you don’t mind. We made ourselves at home. Love what you’ve done with the place here.”
(Y/n) chortled again, earning an amused look from Dick, who found the whole situation hilarious. But he had more important news to share.
Welsh grabbed a bottle of champagne and held it out for the major. “Hey, have a drink. Come on. Just so we can say we saw you do it,” he implored, staring for a moment as Dick didn’t respond. 
Smirking, (y/n) rose from her chair and gracefully pushed the bottle back toward Harry as she moved to stand between him and Dick. “You drink it, Welshy.”
Welsh retracted his hand, standing there for a moment like a pouting child, while Dick, who had patiently waited, pulled out a sheet of paper. He cleared his throat and started to speak, his gaze warm as he looked down at (y/n) beside him. “Listen up. From Corps, it just came in. Effective immediately, all troops standing fast on present positions.”
Nix rested his hands behind his head as he lay on the chair with a smirk. “Standing fast.”
Ron, his usually sharp eyes now glazed over from the alcohol, looked up and asked. “What does that mean?”
(Y/n) ran a hand down her face with a giggle. Her laughter was infectious, and the group chuckled, with Dick’s laughter being the loudest. His smile was the widest she’d seen in months, and the sight stirred something within her. 
“Do you want to hear it?” he asked the group as he wrapped an arm around (y/n)’s shoulder. 
Harry nodded, grunting in reply, and Dick repeated the sound, raising an eyebrow at the man. “Are you ready for it? Listen up, the German Army surrendered.”
The news sent a sudden hush through the group, and the jovial atmosphere vanished, replaced by a solemn and reverent feeling that settled inside each of them. (Y/n) looked up at Dick, her eyes widened in disbelief.
“Really?” she whispered, her voice filled with hope.
Dick nodded and squeezed her shoulder softly. “Yeah, sweetheart. They did.”
In that instant, she couldn’t contain her joy. She flung her arms around his shoulders, squealing happily, and he snaked his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly. The weight of the past years seemed to lift, replaced by a hope of peace in Europe for people like her family who were caught in the crossfire of war. As they pulled back from their hug, the sheer happiness of the moment made (y/n)’s eyes glisten with tears. Around them, the other officers were clapping each other on the back and expressing their own gratitude that victory in Europe had been achieved.
With a soft smile, Dick placed a hand on her lower back and led her to a farther part of the balcony, giving them privacy from prying eyes. He could see the curiosity in her eyes and as they found a quiet corner, he spoke in a hushed tone. “I got word today, (y/n). About your family.”
Her eyes widened in anticipation, and her heart raced. “My family? Where are they? She asked, her voice trembling with a mix of hope and fear. 
Dick placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering her the support she needed to hear the news. “They’re alive, (y/n). They’re living in Salzburg.”
The emotion she’d swallowed down came flying back, and tears welled up in her eyes again as her voice trembled with relief. “Salzburg? Oh, thank God,” she croaked.
(Y/n) couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer, and the tears streamed down her face as she wrapped her arms around Dick, hugging him tightly once again. It was a cry of pure relief, a release of tension that had gripped her heart for so long. 
Dick held her close, his own emotions stirred by the moment. He could feel her relief, his arms wrapped around her as he gently stroked her back. The news also meant that they were one step closer to going home. One step closer to spending the rest of their lives together.  
In the midst of the moment, (y/n) looked up at Dick, a radiant smile breaking through her tears. Her soft voice was barely more than a whisper as she spoke. “I love you, Dick.”
Their eyes locked in a tender, unspoken understanding as Dick leaned down to cup her cheek, his thumb gently brushing away a tear. “I love you, too, (y/n).”
The mountains of Berchtesgaden stood as silent witnesses to what was about to transpire. It was the perfect setting for a moment they would cherish forever. As they stood there, Dick took (y/n)’s hand in his, his gaze unwavering as he looked deep into her eyes. With a smile, he began to speak…but it wasn’t English.
“Meine Liebe, du weißt, ich bin nicht der Beste im Umgang mit Worten, aber ich liebe dich mehr als das Leben selbst. Ohne dich hätte ich das nicht überstanden und ich möchte nie wieder ohne dich sein,” he began, his heart pounding in his ribcage.
My love, you know I'm not the best with words, but I love you more than I love life itself. I wouldn't have gotten through this without you, and I don’t want to be without you ever again.
(Y/n) looked at him, her eyes widening in surprise and joy. She blinked in disbelief, her heart skipping a beat.
“Willst du meine Frau werden?” Dick continued.
Will you marry me?
A gasp escaped (y/n)’s lips as tears continued to trickle down her cheeks. She couldn’t believe what was happening, and her heart swelled. Dick got down on one knee, his eyes filled with a softer determination than the one she saw in his eyes on the battlefield. He reached into his OD pocket and pulled out a small, elegant ring.
In a voice filled with emotion, he asked, “Möchtest du mein leben mit mir teilen?”
Will you share your life with me?
Tears streamed down (y/n)’s face as she nodded vigorously, unable to speak through her overwhelming joy. She held out her hand, and Dick slid the ring over her finger. It fit perfectly, just as they did in each other's lives.
With a smile that held all the love in the world, he whispered, “Ich liebe dich.”
I love you.
With the golden rays of the setting sun casting a warm, enchanting glow on the balcony, Dick stood up from one knee and pulled (y/n) into a gentle, affectionate embrace. The light from the setting sun illuminated their features, turning their silhouettes into a work of art against the breathtaking backdrop. Their kiss was tender and sweet, filled with the promise of a future together.
Their actions were delicate and filled with longing. Dick’s arms enveloped (y/n) as he kissed her, his fingers brushing softly against her cheek, and (y/n) responded with more fervor, deepening the kiss. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, fingers clutching his uniform as if grounding herself in the reality of the moment. The hand on her cheek threaded into her hair and pulled her impossibly closer. 
With huge smiles on their faces, (y/n) and Dick pulled back from their kiss. The moment was perfect. However, their intimate moment was suddenly interrupted by a chorus of whistles and cheers coming from the adjacent balcony. Ron, Harry, Lip, and Nix watched on as the couple got engaged. They exchanged glances and held hands as they made their way toward the cheering men.
Nix hugged Dick and slapped him on the back, his expression a mix of humor and satisfaction. “Now if I remember correctly, some wise guy called this the first time you two met…oh wait, that was me.”
Dick’s brows furrowed in confusion, and he turned to his fiance for clarification. “What?”
Rolling her eyes playfully, (y/n) leaned into his side, patting his chest lightly. “Back in Aldbourne, Lew just thought that, and I quote, ‘sparks would fly’ between the two of us.
“Well, I’m so glad they did,” Harry laughed, holding up a wad of cash in front of him. “I’m a rich man now.”
The major blinked at Harry, his amusement evident. “How am I not surprised you bet on us?” 
“You think that’s all we bet on?” Ron slurred, sprawled out on a chair with his eyes closed. “We also bet on when-”
Thankfully, Lip stepped in to stop the Captain, who appeared to be thoroughly drunk. “Alright. Let’s get you to bed, sir.”
(Y/n) grinned, admiring Dick’s features above her. “Where did you learn all of that?” she asked. “Because I’ve never taught you anything that complex.”
“A man never tells his secrets,” he replied, kissing her temple lovingly.
“It was Liebgott, wasn’t it,” she chuckled, raising an eyebrow at him. “Cause only Joe knows that much German other than me.”
“Well,” Dick began, “There’s a lot more where that came from.”
“Oh really, Major Winters. Care to enlighten me?”
He sighed, “Nope. I’ve been practicing that for months. It’s all I’ve got.” 
“Then it’s a good thing you’ve got the best teacher by your side for the rest of your life, huh?”
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Tag List: @liptonsbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @bucky32557038ww2 @flowers-and-fichte @merriell-allesandro-shelton @ronsparky
message or comment if you want to be added to the tag!
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dcyllom · 7 months
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everytime a band of brothers fic is posted or updated you can hear me somewhere in the distance rubbing my hands together like a little conniving fly
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Save the Last Dance For Me
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Summary: you and Dick have been dating in secret, until at a party he’s forced by circumstances (coff George Luz coff) to set things straight
Notes: fluff, jealousy
Word count: 1068
“I don't believe you actually have a boyfriend. You were saying that just to throw me off” The brown-eyed soldier insisted in a mocking way.
I smiled to myself and glanced furtively behind me, more or less where I knew the man I was secretely dating must have been.
“Oh you better believe it, George” I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall, looking at him quite amused.
“Then who is it? Why is it such a secret?” He asked rolling his eyes.
“I'm really not sure you want to know” I smirked, and that was certainly no lie.
“Alright, alright” he raised his arms in surrender. “Tell you what, let's make a deal: I stop asking about this mysterious guy if you agree to dance with me.” The tone was hopeful: “Just one song” He specified, noticing my raised eyebrow.
I didn't see anything wrong with giving him one dance, so I agreed: “Okay, but I don't want to hear another word about it.” I warned him.
He flashed a toothy smile and offered me his hand, in such a funny and theatrical way that it made me burst out laughing. "You're an idiot"
“I know” He winked.
We began to move to the center of the wide room, where other couples were already dancing. He wasn't exactly a talented dancer and kept tripping over my feet, making us both laugh.
About a minute and a half into the song, we managed to find a slightly more synchronized rhythm. I looked up at his face and little by little his usual playful smile had disappeared, his eyes instead fixed on me with an unusually serious and intense look that left little room for misunderstandings.
Uh oh, I thought. This wasn’t good news. I had been too naive to think that accepting to dance with him wouldn’t send involuntary mixed signals.
“George…” I said, instinctively moving away to leave more space between our bodies.
The song we were dancing to came to an end just then. “One more song?” He half pleaded, his expression so hopeful that it broke my heart a little. I didn’t want to be the one to do this to him.
I looked at him gently. “I'm sorry, I can't” I started to take a step back, but he didn't let go of my left hand, still intertwined with his, almost as if he was struggling and fighting the urge to draw me back to him.
“George” I repeated, voice calm but with a hint of warning.
Before I could do or say anything else, I felt a slight shift of air and then a hand coming to rest lightly on my side. I didn't need to look to know who it belonged to.
George’s eyes widened and he immediately let go of my hand. “Major Winters!” He almost stood at attention. “I-I didn't see you there”
I finally allowed myself to shift my attention to Dick. His gaze was firmly fixated on George and he was barely blinking. I saw no trace of anger or irritation in it (though I knew he was quite good at disguising those), but a clear determination that spoke much louder than words.
“No need for formalities, private, this is a party. I trust that you're having fun?” His tone was calm and polite as usual, but for once almost unnaturally so. As a consequence, it came across as slightly menacing.
George must have sensed the trap, because he soon started babbling: “Yes, sir! I mean…a normal, regular amount of fun. Nothing special going on here. Just one dance” He really stressed the word one.
“I'm glad to hear that” Dick smiled, at last turning his attention towards me. “Because I was really looking forward to this next one. Can I have the honor, miss?”
My heart skipped a beat at that. Jealousy was a new but certainly rather good look on him.
“Of course you can, major” I decided to play along even though it was pretty clear, what he was doing.
When I looked to the side, George had already vanished into thin air. I gave a small chuckle. “You didn't need to terrorize him like that”
“I did no such thing” he said with a smirk, quickly intertwining our fingers, while his other hand was still firmly resting on my right side. The band began playing a slower tempo, romantic song and I gladly let him lead me into the music. He was a pretty good dancer. Then again, I was yet to find anything he couldn’t do well.
Both of my eyebrows shot up. “Are you sure? What happened to keeping secrecy above all?” I teased him.
“Well, it felt like the situation required that I come clean.” He whispered very close to my ear. “Besides, you didn't seem to mind all that much”
I felt a warm rush of adrenaline going through my body, and hoped I wasn't blushing outwardly as I was on the inside.
I recognized it as the effect only he had on me. Being in his arms felt so natural and right, it left no space for doubt in regards to my feelings for this man, and his for me. And I really didn't mind one bit.
“Who are you and what have you done to Dick Winters” I shook my head in disbelief, laughing.
“Does that mean that I should stop?” He inquired.
Without interrupting our slow swaying back and forth to the rhytmn, I placed both of my hands around his neck, bringing him closer, allowing myself to stare straight into his eyes. “Don't you dare”
I saw a brief flash of hesitation passing through those blue eyes, like an implicit request for permission, and I nodded, smiling.
“I've been waiting to do this all night” He gently cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, slowly but ardently, in front of everyone.
I could hear a few gasps and cheers in the background over the sound of the music playing, but when we turned around everybody had gone back to the party acting as if nothing happened.
“You know, major, your men will definitely talk after this” I jokingly protested.
I could feel his smile on my lips as he kissed me again: “Let them”
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brassknucklespeirs · 7 months
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Sᴄᴀʀʏ Dᴏɢ Pʀɪᴠɪʟᴇɢᴇ [Jᴏᴇ Tᴏʏᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]
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Genre: Speed run enemies to lovers??? But also funny and cute???
Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of sexism, descriptions of warfare, mention of blood and wounds, the general idea is if you couldn't handle band of brothers, don't freaking read this okay?
Disclaimer: No disrespect to the real men of WW2, this is based off the actors portrayal from HBO
HI GUYS! I'M SO EXCITED THIS IS MY FIRST FIC BACK AND I'M SO HAPPY WITH IT SO PLEASE ENJOY! I'VE MISSED YOU GUYS LIKE CRAZY
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To say Y/N was not warmly welcomed as a female replacement in Easy Company was an understatement. She was at the bottom of the food chain at this point; the Toccoa men being at the top, with her fellow replacements being beneath them, and then her at the very bottom thanks to her lack of an extra limb between her legs. In all honesty, she wasn't as bothered as she thought she would be, but perhaps that was because after making it through basic training she was more than use to being leered at; whether it was in distain, lust, or indifference was dependant on the man.
It wasn't all bad she guessed, but even in those men who did show her kindness, she still saw the hint of apprehension in their eyes as the smile they held didn't quite cover the look from their gaze. She was the only female in Easy company, while all of the other women that she had trained with were sent to Dog and Fox company. She held a sliver of envy because of this, for she didn't truly understand why none of the others had joined her in Easy, and yet here she was, the only woman in a company of men who saw her as a silly little girl playing dress up. Any time the monachopsis had crept in she pushed it away, reminding herself of why she was here, why she was persisting through the cold, both that which she was dealt from the men and that which the snowy terrain of Bastogne had brought her freely.
She kept to herself mostly, though it drove her slightly mad as she wished to share the unfamiliar sense of comradeship that she saw flowing between the men around her. Y/N would often find herself staring longingly as she watched them unconsciously huddle closer to each other to keep warm, while her stomach clenched in disappointment as they shared quiet laughter in their foxholes, exchanging jokes and light-hearted taunts to bring their spirits up as much as they could.
Yet here she was, alone in every meaning of the word except physically, holed up in a foxhole with someone who did not care for her existence as he looked down on her as a nuisance. Y/N's gaze would often flicker to the man beside her, taking note of how he pressed himself as close to his side of the dirty dugout in the ground, like she was a plague to be avoided. She could never stop her teeth from sinking into the raw flesh of her chewed bottom lip to keep herself from speaking to him, knowing the last time she had tried, he had ripped into her. The man had thrown insults and harsh words about how she was an army experiment gone wrong, and how the only reason she was allowed to be here is because they were that desperate for running targets to distract the Nazis from shooting at the 'real' soldiers. Every word had hit its mark but she refused to show it, keeping up her façade of indifference and annoyance until he had turned his back on her, at which point of time she had shifted her head in the opposite direction to let the tears that threatened to spill fall down her cheeks.
It was easy to see how Joe Toye was the man everyone painted him out to be, yet where others saw him as strong-willed she saw him as stubborn, and in the place of being a good leader, she had seen a pushy prick who expected those around him to bend and shape to his will. His sense of arrogance truly did stun her when she first arrived to the front, and though she never really got over it, she learnt how to play the ignorant card for the sake of her sanity; or perhaps for the sake of her position in Easy company, for she wasn't quite sure if she would be kept around if she bad-mouthed one of her sergeants. Yet it was in moments like that, when Joe used the consistent excuse of needing to watch the line to keep his glare off of her that she would watch anything but the line. She hated herself for it sometimes, knowing that her lack of normality had caused her to seek out any familiar comfort she could around her. The familiar comfort in question being the picture of a handsome face. He was all sharp angles from side on, with his sculpted jawline and large, curved nose, and she found herself flitting her gaze over his features in moments of quiet. A little too easy on the eyes for someone lacking any means of a soft spoken personality, she had thought to herself once as she forced herself to look away from him.
Y/N's jaw ached from how tightly she was grinding her teeth, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso as she tried to savour in her own warmth. Her gaze held envy as she eyed Malarkey, Muck, Penkala and Luz huddled together, giggling to one another while they talked in hushed voiced. She wished to know what it felt to relish in the cosiness they seemed to hold between one another, wanted to know what it was to laugh over such meaningless jokes to break through the bitter sensation that wrapped its way around her lonely heart. She huffed out a breath of frustration as she downed the rest of the lukewarm coffee that Lipton had previously handed her, the cup having already been half drunk when the first sergeant had taken pity on the clearly shivering woman and offered her the rest. Y/N sent Lip a small but grateful smile when she handed him back the mug as he shuffled past her, a stiff nod of his head and his own small smile being the acknowledgement she received before he walked off.
Y/N rolled her rigid shoulders as she walked back towards her and Joe's foxhole, her rifle tucked tightly between her arms and chest while her hands were squished under her armpits to savour the little warmth her body gave off. Her entire body froze for a moment as a whistling sound rung through her ears, carried through the breeze from the town of Foy below them. Y/N's head snapped behind her to look towards Lip over her shoulder, the first sergeant stared back at her with wide eyes, the both of them letting the realisation fall over them. Lipton's voice of authority resonated over the company members close by as he yelled to take cover over and over again, a mix of alarm and agitation leaking off every sharp syllable. Y/N's feet seemed to move without any further thought when the first shell hit the ground with an almighty bang, digging its nose into the dirt before scattering it across the frozen terrain. She threw herself into the closest cover she could, a shallow foxhole that looked as if it had been given up on halfway through being dug, her arms immediately covering her head while she pressed her cheek against the snow. From the position she was in, she was able to see the chaos that ensued around her as trees exploded and men screamed over the noise at one another. Her teeth sunk into the skin on the inside of her cheek, and the metallic taste of blood told her she had clenched too harshly as the anxiety built up in her chest.
The lone figure of a man in the distance caught her attention as they seemed to be the only person who had stupidly continued to scramble for cover while those around him had found theirs. Her gaze shifted to the trail of shells hitting the forest floor, and her uneasy grew, noting that the path they travelled was heading straight for the running soldier. She wasn't quite sure what led her to the point of brainlessness but in a split second decision, she was up and out of the half dug foxhole, her feet pushing her full force across the snowy ground towards him, her quads aching with every step. The cold wind blasted across her face while several bursts of heat would hit her cheek as the shells grew closer to her. Her heart felt ready to leap out of her chest as she watched the trail of destruction close in to her position with every step she took closer towards the figure. With seemingly seconds to spare, her body collided harshly with his, throwing his body to the side as they narrowly avoid a shell that blew the trees behind them to splinters. Y/N wasted no time as her hands gripped at the man's uniform and pulled him from the ground though a burning sensation along the side of her hip told her she had been hit. She didn't take the time to analyse her wound, throwing the man into the closest foxhole before diving after him, though another shell from behind them caused her to tumble in after him as it threw her off her feet. She managed to catch herself before she completely crushed the man beneath her, her hands and knees hitting the ground either side of him, holding her above his body. As the blasts continued around them, she took no time to ponder the precarious position she had landed in, the warm heat of the man she had saved pressed against her torso as she sat straddled over his lying body. She felt his chin pressed against the top of her head as she curled tightly into him, her face hidden in the crook of his neck without thought.
As the shelling eased and the forest around them grew silent once more, Y/N raised her head towards the sky as to angle her ears in such a way to hear better, but the ringing that echoed from the remnants of the blast was like an alarm bell. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard Lipton's voice yell to stay down, and her stomach clenched in anticipation. She tilted her head back down towards the man as she felt him wriggle beneath her and a blush rose to her cheeks as she turned to apologise and move only to meet the dark eyes of Joe Toye. Her face hardened as she stared down at him, his eyes looking up to meet her gaze with surprise evident in his pupils. Y/N breathed harshly through her nose, pulling one leg over his body so she no longer perched in his lap before she tugged them to her chest, shuffling to the other side of the foxhole with a stiff expression. Joe said nothing but his eyes continued to watch her for a few more moments, his gaze causing the hairs on her arms to rise; or perhaps that was the chill the air held, she wasn't certain. Y/N ran her tongue over her top teeth as the silence enveloped them, but her irritation rose the longer it went on, her fingers gripping tighter at her rifle causing her knuckles to turn white.
"You're welcome, by the way." She spoke suddenly, her tone cold but the way she kept her eyes off of him expressed the idea that she didn't care; she certainly did care, and she expected grateful appreciation for saving his sorry ass. She turned her attention to what was going on above the foxhole they sat in as she pushed herself to a crouch to poke her head cautiously over the edge of the dugout, her eyes sweeping over the area as she analysed it carefully. Joe watched her in silence for another moment, his eyes trailing over the side of her face as she remained oblivious. He had previously noted that her face held a gentle beauty, but in this moment with messy hair peaking out from under her helmet, brows furrowed and her jaw visibly clenching, she held more of a wild divinity, like a budding rose that’s stem held many thorns. He drew in a breath as he forced himself to turn away as he thought to himself, A little too beautiful for someone who holds such an icy façade.
"Yeah. Thanks." Joe finally muttered shortly as he gazed down at his hands. Y/N didn't turn to look at him, but rolled her eyes at his stiff reply, not overly convinced he meant it. She opened her mouth to reply, swivelling on her toes to looked down at him only for the burning in her hip to arise again. The woman let out a strangled gasp, her hand immediately flying to the sliced flesh on her hip as the adrenaline running through her body began to dissipate. Joe's eyes widened, watching as she moved quickly to sit on her uninjured hip, all but collapsing beside him. "Shit Y/L/N. This just happen?" The sergeant called while moving closer to her, and if she wasn't focussed on her pain, Y/N would have seen fit to roll her eyes once more. She groaned, biting at the sensitive flesh of her lip as she pulled some of the torn fabric away from the wound, revealing the blood leaking from her body.
"Yeah. Next time remind me not to save your sorry ass." Y/N replied with as much of an taunting sneer as she could muster, completely disregarding their difference in rank as quite honestly in that moment she couldn't have cared less. Someone needed to dish it back to this man everyone once in a while to ensure his head didn't grow too large, and if that person had to be her, then she'd give it her best go. Even now as she squirmed uncomfortably at the burning gash on her hip, she was fully prepared to release the feminine rage that she had held caged in her chest for the last few months if she really had to.
Neither of them were given a moment to continue this exchange of simmering annoyance as a new bout of whistles filled the air causing Y/N to whine in distress, curling into herself to grasp at any comfort she could. She looked up from under her brows towards the sky as the first explosion went off, but immediately flinched in discomfort, turning her body away and pushing herself as close to the side of the foxhole as she could. When the not-so-solid soil wall seemed to wrap its arms around her tightly in a moment of shared unease, Y/N realised she had, in fact, unconsciously turned away from the wall of the foxhole, not towards it, and found herself pressed firmly against the warm body of Joseph Toye. The man's arms remained steadfast around her waist as the chaos outside the foxhole continued, his own fear slipping through with every 'bang' that was heard. The ground shook violently as a shell hit close by and Y/N let out a strangled scream of terror. Her hands unravelling from themselves to grasp at Joe's jacket, tugging herself closer to him while she tried her best to focus on the warmth that radiated from him, or the way his fingers could be felt rubbing back and forth over her spine. Even if he was a particularly cold man towards her, it had not been the first time she had used him as a distraction, though this was much more than just admiring him from afar. There was a certain intimacy in being held as if she was the only thing that could bring reassurance to the soldier beside her, a type of intimacy she had gladly welcomed at that moment as she too tightened her grip on his shirt, even going as far to hide her face in the fabric covering his shoulder.
A heavy silence hung over the air when the shelling stopped, the only noise being the creaking of nearby trees, half destroyed from the blasts and desperately clinging to hold their form. Y/N stayed leaning against Joe, his warmth offering comfort as her body grew tired as the adrenaline had leaked faster from her than it had the last time. Her wound began to burn hotter than last time, and a pained whine left her lips as she lifted her hand, pulling her face from the man's jacket to watch as crimson blood trickled down the palm it had begun to stain.
"Shit. MEDIC!" Joe screamed out as he glanced down at the woman as she lay groaning against his side, her hands coloured with scarlet liquid while her face was screwed up in a look of discomfort. "Uh, how many fingers am I holding up?" He asks, his voice a mixture of worry and uncertainty, his hand showing three fingers. Y/N seemed to pause her groaning for a moment, her head tilting up to look at him, her face showing disbelief at the words. Her gaze flickered between his face and his fingers, too confused to answer immediately as she took in the dead-serious look of concern on his features.
"I'm not dying you fucking moron. It's a shallow gash not a mortal wound." She replies with a quiet snort from her nose in amusement. Sure, the sliced flesh burned but it was certainly nothing to write home about, and she was more than prepared to never think about it again once she had been seen to by a medic. Until that point, she would ensure she'd made it clear to Joe that she deserved a little bit of appreciation for drawing blood for him, even if it was her own. The man rolled his eyes at her answer, pushing his fingers closer to her face while his brows tugged together in silent frustration.
"Just answer the fucking question Y/L/N." He said firmly. With a huff of irritation, Y/N gave her answer before using the hand that wasn't pressed tightly against the wound on her hip to flick his own hand away from her face.
"Thank the lord above they didn't make you a goddamn medic." She muttered under her breath quietly, though the roll of his eyes told her he had heard the words leave her mouth. The corners of her lips quip up in amusement but she pulled her eyes away from him as a heavy set of footfall could be heard coming towards them. Gene appeared beside her before she could blink, his presence causing her to jump in fright  "Jesus Gene, I just told Toye I wasn't dying. Don't you dare make me look a fool by giving me a heart attack." The woman mumbles lightly to the medic as he doesn't waste a second, pulling her hand from the wound and inspecting it closely.
"Sorry Y/L/N." Gene muttered gently, his eyes flickering up to hers for a moment in polite acknowledgement. He looked back down at the gash and noted several splinters still sticking out causing him to screw his face up in concentration, his eyes analysing the best way to get them out. He pulled his tweezers from his pouch and without warning, plucked the first splinter from her hip bringing about a cry made up of surprise and discomfort that rose loudly from her lips. Without thinking, her hand flew out to the side, landing on Joe's thigh, before squeezing tightly to sate her pain.
"AH, come on Gene, a little warning would be nice." She groaned, her fingers digging into the flesh of Joe's leg while she squirmed against his side as if trying to shuffle away from the medic and his tweezers. Joe let out a huff of bemusement as he glanced between her hand on him and her face, though he couldn't help the slight redness that dusted his cheeks.
"So would a homecooked Christmas dinner made by my ma, but we can't always get what we want, can we Y/N?" Joe said almost mockingly. The woman threw a warning glare over her shoulder in response to his words, not appreciative of his snark as she had a pair of tweezers shoved half an inch into a gash she took for him. Y/N watched as Gene finished pulling the splinters from her flesh, and wriggled uncomfortably as he stitched up the wound, yet the bleeding crimson that escaped from her had already painted the snow beneath her.
When the medic had finished up with dressing her wound as well as he could with his limited supplies, he had quickly disappeared off into the snowy terrain surrounding them. The woman kept her gaze on him as he ran off, a small smile of amusement painting her lips when she sees him scurry away so quickly. Movement against her hand reminded her that she was still gripping at Joe's thigh and without a single glance she retracted it as if she had been burnt, and it honestly looked as though she had been from the rose dusted blush on her cheeks. She didn't say a word to Joe, turning her head away from him so he could not see the embarrassment that so clearly showed on her face, yet the man used it to his advantage as he glanced out the corner of his eyes to look at her, his expression that of curiosity and intrigue. With a silent huff of amusement and a subtle shake of his head, Joe realised he had been wrong about Y/N, very wrong indeed.
▄︻デ----══━一
Joseph Toye had held a deep distain of the female replacement since the moment she showed up. Every part of her annoyed him; the way she seemingly refused to interact with most of the men as if she was above them, the way she watched them closely with narrowed eyes, the way she held herself like she was special because she was the only woman assigned to Easy company, the way she was so god damn distracting. He had decided quickly that she was not at all what a normal soldier was supposed to be, and let his thoughts and assumptions cloud his judgement. But after she had saved his ass from being blown sky high, he felt a strange feeling nag at his gut; guilt. His mind was a jumble of thoughts, mostly questions, of why she had taken the risk, why she would have bothered to put herself in the line of fire for anyone. He had a fair idea that she would not have known that it was him she was saving, the snowy haze that lingered in the air making it hard to see anything but silhouettes. Yet even then she had still gone out of her way, and gotten hurt in the process, just to ensure whatever random soldier that had failed to find cover was unharmed. She was braver than he gave her credit for.
His eyes followed her every move after Gene had left the foxhole they had fallen into, though in all honesty, they had been watching her for much longer than that. He remembered the way she interacted with Gene, and he wondered why she seemed to show a softer side for only a few of the men. Perhaps it was all backwards, and it was the other men who had given her a harsher side, one that had pushed her away. The guilt that ate at him came back as he realised his mistake, his mind flashing through the memories of what he had said to her, and how he had watched as others did the same and did nothing to stop them. That feeling didn't stop him from staying silent though, and if anything, it made him more reluctant to speak with her as he had come to know just how much he had screwed up. He felt like an idiot, so busy assuming the worst in her to see that he was a large part of the problem. She wasn't putting herself on a pedestal, she was protecting herself by being closed off to those around her who had taken one look at the woman and decided she wasn't worth their time.
They had lost Skip and Penkala the next day and following that, they had lost Buck, who seemed to feel the weight of the world collapse on him after he saw the explosion that took the two soldiers. Y/N could see where it had all gone wrong with the lieutenant, having watched as the light seemed to leave his eyes day by day until finally something gave way. She felt for him, but she could do nothing as she felt her own pressure on her shoulders, just as everyone else did, pushing her further into silence as she let her thoughts consume her more with every passing moment. The woman had sat quietly in the foxhole beside the ever present sergeant as Buck was led away by Lipton and Luz, tears leaking from his eyes and whimpers leaving his lips. Her mouth had grown dry, her heart clenching almost painfully at the sight of the broken man. Her eyes had meet Joe's for but a second as they shared a look that mirrored the other's, worry and unease swimming in their expression before she pulled her gaze from him, gulping down the feeling of disappointment.
The days following were much the same as each other, and though the two had spoken the odd word to one another when needed, they had generally kept to their own side of the foxhole. The only thing different was that of Y/N's lack of attention on Joe; her eyes no longer strayed to him and remained heavily on the line before them at all times aside from when she was sleeping. It seemed as though her lack of interest in him had increased his interest in her as if he had picked up the slack she had let loose. Her lip was chewed raw as every time she got the urge to look at him, she had countered it by tearing into her flesh with her teeth, like a punishment for having such ideas. The healing gash along her hip held a slight ache, yet it was the itch that drove her crazy, and she had already been growled at by Doc for ripping the scab open. It was the little things such as these that she used to distract herself from him; since she had saved him, he had changed from being the distraction to being distracting, and it sent her mind into a frenzy of thoughts.
It was early evening by the looks of the darkening sky when Joe had wandered off from their shared foxhole to grab some grub, his eyes finally moving from Y/N's form as she continued to watch the line from her spot. He wandered over to where several of the men had gathered to eat, and he made his way to Bill's side as soon as he spotted the man who grinned towards him. They chatted to themselves quietly while eating, mostly about Buck and his departure. Joe held his hands under his arms to warm up as the cold breeze pierced his coat, and his eyes were set on Bill as he spoke until something Cobb said had caught his attention. The sergeant had snapped his head towards the latter man when he mentioned something about Y/N, something lacking respect for the woman.
"Come off it will yah Cobb, she's just trying to do her job." Toye voice was firm as it cut through the air, his eyes holding a warning glare that only caused the smaller man to smirk as he turned to look at him.
"Oh? Tell me, has she been serving you as her sergeant well in that foxhole, hm?" Cobb snarked causing a couple of groans and noises of disappointment to sound from some of the men around them as the words left the man's mouth. They may not have all warmed up to the idea of a woman in the company, but she had not done anything to give room for such a derogatory accusation. Joe's hands clenched around his rifle as his jaw grew tense in anger, simmering in his blood while it began to boil. He didn't have time to question his own mind as it acted on autopilot, preparing to defend his foxhole partner's name against this soldier who loves to stir the pot a little too much for his liking.
"Show some god damn respect. She's done exactly what the rest of us have, her being a woman doesn't change that." He replied, his knuckles turning white, holding himself back from socking Cobb across the face.
"Except she hasn't. She's been here for what? A couple of months? Yet what good has she been?" Cobb said with a huff, his upper lip twitching in annoyance. Joe's mind flashed with memories of her body colliding with his to stop him from being blown to bits, and of the blood that leaked from her body as Gene patched her up. His jaw grew sharper, if it even could, the curve of it looking as if it had been cut from steel while the muscles connected to it rippled tightly under his skin.
"You seem to have gotten over this problem with the other replacements a while ago. Just say you're being a sexist prick and go Cobb." Joe said sternly, taking a step towards the shorter man with a dark look on his face. He held his head high as his gaze looked down his nose to assert a warning dominance over the other man, expressing the risk of opening his mouth to talk back once more with that action alone. Cobb seemed to gulp, his eyes trailing over Joe's imposing form as he realised his mistake. He said nothing as he stepped backwards, his feet taking him away from the dark haired man, only lowering his head in a show of capitulation before he scurried away. Joe followed him with his dark gaze until Luz placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling his attention away from Cobb in hopes that he would not run after him to smack him across the face. Lipton watched from not too far away, having heard what had gone one, but he did not proceed to move closer as he glanced over his shoulder to Y/N who stood hidden from the scene behind him. The way her eyes remained on her coffee, wide and vacant, he knew she had heard every word that had been shared between the men.
"Don't let it get to you Y/N." Lipton said quietly as he turned to face her causing her to look up at him. She nodded but didn't say anything. In all honesty, none of Cobb's words had bothered her as she was so used to having comments like that thrown around about her. What did confuse her was the way Toye defended her so firmly, unwavering and looking fully prepared to hit the other man for what he said. Her eyes lingered on said man over Lip's shoulder, taking the time she hadn't used in recent days to look at him, especially now as it seemed no one but the first sergeant before her were aware she was there. She took note of the fact that it took Luz several words to calm Joe down, and she wondered whether he had been defending her or if he had simply been defending himself against the accusation that the two of them had been less than professional in their foxhole. The woman pondered the thought all the way back to their foxhole, though she didn't let the thought consume her enough that she couldn't be vigilant about her surroundings, her gaze remaining on the line as she settled back into her position. It wasn't long before Joe returned, his face no longer holding a tense anger, yet his brows were still furrowed in what she could guess to be concentration. That sat in silence for several minutes, both sets of eyes carefully running over the snowy terrain in front of them until the man's voice cut through the quiet.
"I'm sorry." Joe's voice was like a knife cutting through the tension, though his tone held a genuine edge to it, one that made her whip her head towards him in shock.
"What?" Y/N exclaimed before she had a chance to stop herself, completely thrown off by his words. The man took a deep breath before finally turning to return her gaze, his eyes hold sincerity.
"I said I'm sorry." He repeated, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed his nervousness at the feeling of her eyes piercing into him. "I think…I think I assumed several things about you that have turned out to be very wrong, and I apologise."
"I-" She stuttered for a moment as she processed his words. Her mouth opened before shutting quickly, a motion she repeated multiple times, trying to select her next words but choking on them every time. Joe forced himself to hold back an amused smile at her flustered expression, knowing it was not the right time.
"And the things I said and the way I acted because I let my own assumptions cloud my judgement were uncalled for." He continued, his hands wringing around the barrel of his rifle as a means of comfort for the conversation was necessary but it did not stop his stomach from churning.
"You can say that again." She mumbled under her breath, but he heard her and let out a loud exhale from his nose.
"Look, I'm trying to apologise here, can you just give me a second?" The man groaned, feeling a nervous frustration as he wished to express his vulnerable thoughts without the snark she held in her tone. Y/N pursed her lips, her teeth nibbling at the inside of her mouth as she did. She nodded slowly, raising a hand to push a stray hair from her face before she opened her mouth.
"Right, yes. Continue." Her eyes ran over his face as she spoke, taking in every miniscule detail to memory unconsciously.
"Thank you." He said with a grateful nod, "As I was saying, I shouldn't have said what I did. You aren't some failed experiment, and you certainly aren't just a running target. Hell, you've shown more in the last few days than a lot of the men have the entire time they've been here." His cheeks held the slightest tinge of red as he spoke the words to her, his body tense as he waited for her reply.
"Well…thanks Sarg." She says slowly, her expression showing she didn't quite know how to take his apology as she had not at all been expecting it. Y/N's heart bet out of her chest as their eyes met again, his lips turning up into a small smile that she would never admit made her stomach clench in a strange mix of unease and attraction. She knew for the sake of herself, she had to take his apology with a grain of salt, ensuring that he showed he was sorry more than just expressing it in words with little meaning. Her mind flashed with a rerun of his angered face staring at Cobb with a menacing look she'd seen a few time from him.
"Just Joe is fine." Joe's voice broke through her thoughts once more, and it took her a moment to gather herself, realising what he meant after a few seconds. She blinked animatedly as she looked at him, taking in his expression, the small smile mixed with the genuine look in his eyes. The woman chewed the inside of her cheek once more before nodding.
"Alright, just Joe." Y/N replied with a hint of playful grin on her lips, and the man chuckles lightly at her jest. They shared a friendly smile, feeling a strange weight taken off their shoulders; Joe knowing he was able to show he was willing to find a way to redeem himself, while Y/N was simply happy to feel a sense of comradeship from someone she had to spend so much time with.
▄︻デ----══━一
The seat beneath Y/N jostled as the truck hit a stray pothole in the rustic road they drove down, moving towards the town of Haguenau. She felt a sense of warmth as she sat sandwiched between Joe and George, her head titled down with her lower face nestled into the scarf wrapped around her neck. Luz, who had been struggling to not talk her ear off with random gibberish, had finally closed his mouth as he let his tiredness set in, his eyes fluttering closed every now and then. Y/N held a small smile on her face while she watched him, shaking her head in amusement as she turned away from him. A sigh left her lips as she readjusted her sitting position, her tailbone numb from the hard wood of the seat below her while she wished for anything to be able to find a comfortable way to lean her head back to relieve the ache in her shoulders. She shifted her head from side to side, testing each placement of her head she could think of, only to groan quietly in frustration once more. Something soft pressed against the back of her head suddenly, and she fought against herself to not jump in fright, turning her eyes quickly towards Joe. She took note of the way he held his hands raised as he adjusted his own scarf behind her, obviously aware of her discomfort, yet he said nothing and only motioned with a nod of his head for her to lean back. She sent him a small smile, before snuggling her head back, sighing in content at the perfect positioning. Y/N closed her eyes, rolling her shoulders a few times as she settled down for a short nap, ready to shut out the world for as much time as she could. Joe observed her, nodding to himself in silent satisfaction knowing he had been the one to bring her comfort, and he turned away from her with a hint of a smile.
Y/N had woken with a jolt as they came to a halt, her eyes snapping open within a second, gaze already surveying the area around her to ensure she was safe. A gentle hand lay itself on her shoulder and she shifted to stare at Luz as he grinned at her, sending her into a sense of calm, her grip loosening on the rifle she had clutched at tightly. Her lips twitched into a grateful curve at the man, a small nod of her head acknowledging his action before she jumped down from the vehicle behind Joe, her boots hitting the ground with a crunch when she landed.
Y/N had wandered behind the other men, catching sight of Lipton as they made their way towards the houses causing her brows to pull down in concern at the sick man. She jogged quickly to the first sergeant's side, her hair that she had let down to relieve her aching scalp bouncing against her back with every step until she made it to him. Joe had glanced over his shoulder to ensure she was there, but as the spot she had once lingered in lacked her presence, he quickly whirled around to see her walking with Lipton in a different direction. The man groaned under his breath before changing the course of his pathway, manoeuvring through the crowd of men to follow behind her. His eyes scanned the environment around them, flickering to Y/N between completion of every sweep of his gaze.
The trucks had rattled so obnoxiously loud on their drive that Y/N's brain seemed to echo the sound even as she wandered around the house they were setting up as the company CP. The woman nodded her head with a smile as they made their way into what was left of the entertainment room, her expression directed towards Speirs who had acknowledged her greeting with his own tight lipped smile, though if one was to blink they would have missed it as he disappeared into a different room within an instant. She walked behind Lipton as she ushered him towards the couch in the middle of the room with a wave of her hand.
"Sit Lip, take your kit off and I'll make you a warm cup of joe." She said with a motherly smile pulled across her lips, warm and gentle. Lipton nodded with a grateful expression on his face, but it quickly morphed to discomfort as he pulled his webbing off, his muscles aching painfully with every movement. Joe entered not long after, taking his helmet from his head to run a hand through his hair, a sigh of content leaving his lips as he felt the absence of cold wind whipping against his skin. He peered around the place, regarding Y/N tinkering with a small cooker she had pulled from her pouches, a small noise of triumph coming from her lips as it burst to life with a kick start from her lighter. Joe bit the inside of his cheek to stop the smile from tugging at his lips, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before turning to Lipton.
"Nice place you got here Lip." He muttered with a raised brow. Lipton let out the slightest snort of amusement at the man's words, but his lack of energy led him to do nothing more. Lipton lowered himself slowly to the couch with a groan that made her move quickly to him, a blanket she had found in the other room in her hands. Joe had watched her with a small grin as she tended to their first sergeant, a comforting expression evident on her face.
"Managed to snag this for you. Hopefully it'll teach the lad who was using it previously to take more vigilance while napping." Y/N joked as she tucked it over Lip's body while he coughed uncomfortably. She leaned over him, pressing a hand to his head to check his temperature, sending him a reassuring smile. "Joe can you grab that paperwork over by the table please?" She muttered to him, her hand reaching towards it with a point of her finger as she wandered back over to the water she'd left to boil for Lip's coffee. One of her hands rose to pull her helmet from her head, placing it down on the piano beside her before she shook her hair out to let her scalp breath, having been stuffed painfully tight into braids under that metal for too long.
Several minutes later, the woman held the freshly made coffee in her hands, making her way back towards Lip and Joe as they conversed over the paperwork she had previously talked about. Footsteps made Joe shift his gaze to the door, eyes landing on Webster with an unimpressed look as he emerged into the room with a fresh face and lively expression.
"Sergeant Toye. Long time no see." Webster said as his sweep of the room led his eyes to Joe. The latter man snorted, rolling his eyes in bemusement at the newcomer who Y/N did not recognise.
"Long time, huh, you can say that again." Joe all but sneered at him, causing him to almost flinch at the harsh action. Y/N laid a hand on Joe's shoulder as she approached, leaning behind him and Lipton on the couch, as if she was silently telling him to settle down. She handed Lip his coffee, receiving a quiet 'thank you' in reply.
"Sergeant Lipton, feeling alright?" The new man said, eyes flickering between the first sergeant and Y/N, something Joe was more than aware of.
"He's got pneumonia." The woman expressed, while tucking the blanket she had placed on Lipton tighter around his body with her free hand.
"I didn't know we had field nurses this close to the front." The newcomer said in confusion, his words causing Joe to bristle under Y/N's hand. The woman felt her own annoyance flare up, not because she was assumed to be a nurse as she had no issue with that at all for the nurses were admirable women, but because this man had not stopped talking since he'd arrived, and yet they were still no closer to knowing why he was even here.
"Does she look like a fucking nurse to you Webster?" Joe exclaimed grumpily, his hand motioning to her combat uniform, her newly sown chevrons on display along her sleeve, and rifle that still stayed slung over her shoulder protectively. She squeezed her hand once more over his shoulder before letting go and standing, crossing her arms over her chest as Webster stared at her in disbelief.
"My apologies Corporal…" He replied, leaning forward ever so slightly as he waited for her to finish his sentence. She wanted to be sympathetic, but she was very quickly coming to realise how it was to welcome replacements like she had once been, the frustration and envy she felt from his appearance being so clean alone was enough to cause her to lose her sympathy as she became increasingly aware of the grime that marred her skin.
"Y/L/N." The woman concluded, her eyes not leaving Lipton as she moved to whisper to him, asking if he would be okay without her. With a nod of confirmation, Y/N prepared herself to leave the room, and as he realised this, Joe stood, putting his helmet back on and readjusting his rifle sling.
"Corporal Y/L/N. I'm Webster, Private Webster."
"Yeah, I gathered that." She replied dismissively as she grabbed her things, placing her helmet on her head before walking from the room without another word. Joe smirked at her words, a weird sense of pride swelling in his chest. The man sauntered after her, his eyes staying on Webster as he passed him, dark and menacing when he noted the rifleman peering at her back curiously. His shoulder bumped the Harvard man's when he passed, a silent warning to watch himself around Y/N, before he too disappeared out the door. Joe found Y/N not far from the front door of the building, conversing with Luz as she seemingly waited for him to join her on her walk back to first platoon.
"That was a good one Y/N." Joe said as he approached the two, both of whom turned to look at him wandered over. The woman blinked at him several time without a words before she reached forward in a sudden surge of movement, a look of faux concern covering her face as she raised her hand to Joe's forehead. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his eyes flickering between her and Luz who held the same look of confusion as he did.
"What are you doing?" Joe asked while the back of her hand was pressed gently against his head.
"You feeling okay Joe? You just complimented me." She said, a mocking wide eyed look on her face as she played her role of the worried soldier.
"Ha ha. Very funny doll." The man muttered with a roll of his eyes, while Luz chuckled under his breath behind the two, the amusement clear in his gaze that moved between them. The radioman's stare shifted to Malarkey who had wandered up beside him, watching the two with a similar expression as his.
"My goodness, we should get Gene over here, you just gave me a pet name. It's looking bad Joe, I think you may be worse off than Lip." Y/N continued with a gasp, but a small smirk pulled to her lips when Joe gave her shoulder a playful shove. "So easy to rile up, aye tough guy." She mumbled with a grin as she looked at him one last time before turning and walking off towards their platoon housing. Luz turned his gaze upon Joe when she disappeared, watching as the latter man followed her every step with his eyes. Feeling George's own eyes on him, he shifted around to look at him, taking note of the smirk pulled across his lips as he stared at him with raised brows.
"What?" Joe asked in confusion but his brain slowly connected the dots, Luz speaking clearly of the suggestion he was putting forward with his expression alone. "Don't look at me like that." He continued as the shorter man stayed silent. Luz raised his hands in mock surrender after he slung his rifle over his shoulder, but the smirk never left his lips.
"I wouldn't fault you if you did. She's one hell of a dame." The man said before following Y/N down the street, leaving Joe behind for a moment as said man lost himself in his thoughts.
"He's right you know." Malarkey choked out, and though his face held a dull vacancy, he still managed to send Joe an encouraging smile that quipped at the edges of his lips. Joe looked at the other sergeant for a moment, thinking over the two men's words before he huffed a noise of amusement from his nose, but he covered it with a faux frustrated groan before walking off without another word to follow her towards their platoon.
▄︻デ----══━一
It had become increasingly aware to the men in Easy company that Joe seemed to follow Y/N like a shadow, and with the woman's promotion to corporal for the same platoon Joe was the sergeant for, it was even easier to go about this. The female paratrooper was more than aware of how he lingered constantly at her side, and she relished in the feeling of knowing someone always had her six, especially someone such as the slightly intense man known as Joseph Toye.  They moved like magnets; where Y/N went, Joe wasn’t far behind. The two made a good command team, leveling the scale with a contrast in strengths and weaknesses as Y/N made up for Joe's lacking people skills, while the man gave more of a harsh authority where she held a motherly presence. They held an even stronger sense of comradery, having come so far from their icy ways in Bastogne, literally and figuratively.
It seemed everyone held an awareness for this dynamic between the two. Well, everyone but David Webster, even after he had received his first warning the day he returned. It was a funny thought, the man being such a poetic and literary man, and yet he couldn't read into the protective affinity Joe held for the female paratrooper. It was a common theme for the Harvard man to watch Y/N with a look of intrigue since the moment he wandered back into company after his extended stay in that English hospital. Webster was in luck, having gotten away with it for several weeks now, as Joe's attention was kept elsewhere with more important things to protect the woman from. It wasn't until they reached the Eagle's Nest that things changed, and quickly at that; Webster's luck had run dry.
They had found themselves in an interesting juxtaposition, as the further into Germany they went, the further away from harm they seemed to be, with the surrender of a massive number of German troops. It came with the news of victory in Europe that the men had taken the time to revel, indulging themselves in the liquor that flowed plentifully, a gift from Hitler himself as they rounded up bottle after bottle from the dead man's cellar. Y/N sat happily beside Bill and Joe, laughing at a tipsy remark that Luz had made while sipping straight from a bottle of expensive champagne. Her face screwed up at the taste, not particularly fond of champagne but continuing to like the buzz it gave her.
Webster's eyes had strayed to her as they usually did, an action that Liebgott picked up on. A smirk rose to the cab driver's lips, shaking his head at his friend while taking a sip of Cognac from his glass. The Harvard man shifted his gaze when he felt Lieb looking at him, his eyebrows furrowed while glancing between said man and Skinny who sat beside him.
"Can I help you with something Joe?" David asked with a brazen tone. Liebgott's grin grew wider, a cheeky glint in his eye the longer he stared at Webster.
"No, no. Please, continue your shameless staring." The man countered teasingly, his mischievous nature getting the better of him as he felt the desire to let things unfold without his interruption. Webster's face screwed up as an unease settled over him, knowing that nothing good ever came from Lieb's mischief. He rolled his eyes and turned away, shaking the feeling off and setting his sights back on the woman who he had become quite taken with.
Y/N had felt eyes on her for a while now, but she didn't feel the need to seek out who it was, not caring much as she sat leaning her body just the slightest amount towards Toye's side. She glanced out of the corner of her eye, taking note of the precarious position his arm was in, slung over the back of her seat but not close enough to touch her. She sucked her teeth to conceal her smile, but was caught by Bill who held his own teasing smile, his eyes flickering between Joe's hand and her face. The woman squinted her eyes at him playfully before taking another swig of champagne, downing the rest as the men began to cheer for her. She threw her hands up victorious, the empty bottle displayed for them to see. Joe chuckled beside her, looking over the side of her face, admiring her gleaming smile and the way she had her hair down for once. In a moment of coincidence, his eyes flickered passed her and landed on the man sitting at a distance, staring directly at Y/N. Joe took in the way Webster seemed to hold a starry eyed, school boy expression on his face, causing him to narrow his darkening eyes. His lip twitched unconsciously, his arm drawing closer to the woman without her noticing. Joe's gaze moved towards Y/N when she stood suddenly, on a mission to find another bottle of foul tasting but expensive wine. His eyes followed her figure, and he wasn't the only one as his gaze flickered to Webster once again.
Webster took a deep breath as he watched the woman wander across the room to a table in the corner that held multiple bottles of liquor, a bright smile on her face as she glanced over her shoulder to acknowledge a joke that Luz had thrown to her when she passed him. His hand clenched around his glass before he patted his leg as he stood, causing Liebgott and Skinny to look at him.
"I'm gonna do it." Webster proclaimed proudly, squaring his shoulders before heading over to her. Skinny leaned forward quickly to protest against it, his face showing concern.
"No, Web, I don't think that's a good ide-" The man stopped, turning his head towards Liebgott as he laid a hand on his chest, pushing him back to his seat.
"Shut up, I want to enjoy this." He said with a grin, his eyes trained on Joe Toye as he waited for the man to strike.
Y/N stood at the table, moving aside several bottles as she read over each label to decide what she would drink next. She was oblivious to the man that closed in on her position, his mind running with things he would say as he mumbled to himself different greetings. The woman had shifted in her spot, a new bottle pulled to her chest when she twisted around to walk back to her friends. He chose his words before he opened his mouth to say them as he walked up behind her, only several metres between them. Her gaze moved to him just as he went to take one last step closer only for a larger body to step between them and Webster stumbled as to not walk directly into the brick wall that was Joseph Toye. The taller man glowered down at the Harvard man, eyes dark as he squinted them.
"Where you off to in such a rush Webster?" Joe said firmly, his arms crossing over his chest as a small sneering smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Y/N had stopped walking back to their seats, opting to step up behind Joe, just enough so she could see what was unfolding. Webster's eyes glanced towards her form as she came back into view, and he rolled his shoulders to make himself seem bigger as he looked back to Joe.
"I just…wanted to talk to Y/N." He said, tilting his head up to seem confident in his words even though he was holding back a squirm from how dark Joe's gaze was. The man in question raised his brows, glancing over his shoulder to look at the woman, his grin widening as he saw how she stood closely behind him.
"Bold of you to assume she wants to talk to you." Joe retorted, shifting his eyes back to Webster. The latter man clenched his jaw in annoyance at the interference between him and Y/N.
"And you speak for her why?" Webster shot back, his own arms crossing over his chest. Y/N all but rolled her eyes at the interaction, but let it continue as her curiosity got the better of her, though she was ready to jump in if she must.
"I don't, I just know what she likes, and what she doesn't." Joe said with his smirk reaching ear to ear, his head tilting mockingly as if his words suggested more than what the conversation involved. Webster looked taken aback at the man's words, gaze flickering between the two before him, noting the way Joe had shuffled closer to her, and how she leaned towards him ever so slightly.
"Oh. Oh." Webster raised his eyebrows as if piecing a puzzle together, but at the realisation, his shoulders slumped slightly, and his gaze moved to the floor for a moment. "I..um..I'm just going to…" The man stuttered, his cheeks going red as he realised his mistake, reaching towards the table to swipe the first bottle he could reach before turning around and scampering off with his tail between his legs. As Webster sat back down, head lowered in shame and disappointment, he was aware of the amused giggle that left Liebgott's mouth, greatly entertained by the scene he had watched intently. He only laughed harder when Webster leaned over to smack him across the head in retaliation, dodging the hand before throwing his own back, all while giggling profoundly.
Joe watched Webster go, the smirk never leaving his smirk until he felt a hand grab at his bicep and tugging him towards their friends.
"Come on tough guy." Y/N said, her eyes rolling once more. He couldn't see her face as she had turned away from him, walking in front of him without taking her hand off his arm. He allowed himself to be dragged back to the table and sat back down beside the woman as she too took her seat. All of the men around them held looks of amusement as they looked at the two, before going back to their conversation and drinks when the pair said nothing.
"You're such a pain in the ass." The woman muttered to him beside her, her eyes not looking away from the men in front of her to gaze at him.
"You love it though." He whispered back while leaning closer to her ear, and he watched as the corners of her lips twitched upwards, her eyes glancing at him for a moment before she gave him a gentle shove to the chest.
"Shut up." She threw towards him dismissively causing him to laugh quietly, Meanwhile, her hands fiddled to open the bottle but she failed miserably, letting out a low huff of frustration. He took it from her suddenly, using his hand behind her to hold it and his other to pop the cork before handing it back to her. She muttered a quiet 'thank you', taking a sip of it while throwing her head back. Joe looked at her with a small grin, lowering his hand from where it had previously hovered to open her bottle, letting it lay over her shoulder, his hand hanging over her collarbone. Y/N inhaled quickly, almost choking on her drink while glancing out of the corner of her eyes at him again only for him to look away, gazing up at the ceiling as if pretending he didn’t do anything. She let out an amused huff from her nose before she allowed herself to settle against him, shuffling discreetly closer to him, her shoulder pressed carefully against his side. His smile grew, noting that she did not reject his advance, and he grew more bold as he tugged her closer so her neck rested against the inside of his elbow. Another breath left her nose, almost a sigh of content as she soaked in the feeling, the atmosphere of the room mixed with the man beside her setting her at ease.
Some of the men left early that night, deciding they would take the extra time they had to sleep, while other continued to party late into the night. Y/N felt herself growing more tired by the minute as she snuggled unconsciously into Joe's side. Her eyes seemed to flutter closed every now and then, before one of the men's loud laughs or boisterous words would make her open them once more. She yawned, using her hand to cover her mouth before she turned her face to hide in the collar of Joe's shirt, letting herself slip into a comfortable sleep. She didn't know how long she had been asleep when she felt Joe move underneath her, and she went to groan in annoyance until she felt an arm slip under her knees with another across the back of her shoulders, cradling her to a chest that smelt all too familiar.
"I've got her. I'll see you boys tomorrow." Joe said with a smile as he held the woman close to him, carrying her off towards the room she was staying in.
The man settled her down gently on the bed before tugging her boots off, and throwing the covers over her carefully. He took a moment to admire how peacefully she looked as her hair splayed out behind her on the pillow, low breaths leaving her lips. He smiled once before turning on his feet and making his way to the door, but he paused when he heard her voice call out to him.
"Where are you going?" She mumbled sleepily, one of her eyes squinting open as she looked at him standing a few metres away by the door.
"To bed, baby doll." He replied, his hand resting on the door handle.
"Then get in." Her hand reached towards the edge of the blanket as she held it up for him. His brows shot up and he froze for a moment but quickly made his way over, hopping as he tugged his boots off hastily. He lowered himself onto the bed beside her and he didn't waste any time before tugging her towards him, allowing her to snuggle up against him. She let out a sigh of content as she found her place under his arm, her cheek resting on his chest. She felt a calm feeling rush over her, the tranquillity and warmth he brought her could be compared to nothing she'd ever felt before; all she knew was that with him around, she could never imagine feeling more safe.
"Goodnight Y/N." He whispered into her hair as he planted an affectionate kiss to her head. She let out a hum before turning to look up at him, her gaze staying on him unmoving for a moment. He returned her stare, both of their eyes holding the same look of endearment as the other. Y/N seemed like she wanted to say something as her lips parted but no words left her as she became distracted by him, something she had been many times before. He leaned forward slowly, and she knew in a second what was happening as she met him in the middle, their lips meeting softly. Y/N had moved to lean closer to him, propped up on her elbow as she shifted onto her side, her hand resting on his chest. Joe's hand moved to cup her jaw as their lips moved slowly, tentatively, even though the both of them knew full well that this would happen eventually and neither were shy to think it. Y/N was the first to pull away, keeping her face close to his as she let her eyes trail over his face once more, a fond smile tugging to her lips.
"Goodnight Joe." She muttered back quietly, before pecking him one last time on the lips and then lowering herself back down, her face tucked into his neck. He could feel her smile against his skin, one that mirrored his as he stared into the darkness of the room at the ceiling. Her heart raced in her chest, much like his, and she couldn’t stop grinning until sleep took her and she fell asleep in the arms of her tough guy.
Taglist: @peggyvan (if you want to be added to the taglist for all my fics then flick me a message x)
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Saccharine - Dick Winters x FemNurse!Reader
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Saccharine - Dick Winters x FemNurse!Reader
Word Count : 1.9k 
Warnings : mentions of war, wounds, slight jealousy (barely)
Summary : Three Times Dick Winters Wanted to Confess His Feelings and The One Time He Did
A/N : Hello, the next fic after this will be the winner of the WIP poll. This one was tickling my brain though, so I had to write it! This fic is based on the fictional depiction in the miniseries Band of Brothers, not the real veterans. I hope you enjoy it and as always, pls like and reblog if you’d like to see more <;33
Shortly After You Met 
You were quickly wrapping bandages, stocking the medics’ bags, making sure morphine was ready, and generally cleaning house. Keeping clean conditions was a little more difficult in the position you were all in, but you liked to make sure the medics felt even partially clean and organized. 
“Well look at that..” you hear a voice behind you and you turn slightly, recognizing Dick Winters. You smile at him, eyes lighting up when you register that Doc Roe is standing next to him. 
“Just the men I wanted to see.” You hand a fully stocked aid kit to Doc “At the ready for use.” You lower your voice. “Don’t tell anybody but I gave my favorite company medic a few extra bandages.” Roe nods thoughtfully with a little laugh and takes his aid kit from you. 
Your eyes slide to Winters, smile brightening for him. “Hello Lieutenant Winters.” 
Dick pauses for a moment before answering you, your smile disarming him. Never had he seen you smile so brightly at him. He would have figured you would have reserved such sweet smiles for someone like Doc. 
Doc was looking between the two of you, eyebrows scrunched together a bit. Lieutenant Winters wasn’t a very talkative man, sure, but he seemed dumbstruck by you. 
“Hello, Nurse.” Dick says quietly. “Always a pleasure to see you.” He gives you a small, polite smile. You duck your head slightly, trying to hide the scarlet blush creeping up your cheeks. Dick pretends not to notice, but is secretly very pleased that he’s had this effect on you. 
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Such kind words for such difficult times bring me great comfort.” You fiddle absentmindedly with the spare piece of gauze in your hand, your calloused fingers looking so rough, but your touch being so gentle. 
“Nurse!” You hear someone call. “NURSE!” You head turns quickly and you notice a young man dragging his half conscious friend behind him. You drop the spare gauze in your hands and rush over, immediately pushing yourself under the unconscious young man’s other shoulder. You can see his lower leg is torn up, the blood mingling with his shredded trousers. You guide both men to a cot and as you reach for the makeshift curtain you lock eyes with Dick Winters, who looks as if he wants to say something to you. Before he opens his mouth, you close the curtain, turning to the wounded soldier. 
“I need a surgeon!” You yell, beginning with staunching blood flow. Once another nurse arrives, you pause, wiping your hands quickly and ripping open a sulfa powder packet with your teeth, sprinkling it on the unconscious man’s leg. 
Dick watches you from afar, admiring how you seem so sure of yourself. He can barely tear his eyes away from the scene in front of him. He shakes himself out of his reverie and exits the aid station with Doc Roe. 
2. When He Just Happened To Walk By
You were standing outside the aid station, taking a small breather. You knew you were meant to help people, it had just seemed like a calling, but watching men take their last breaths takes a toll on a person, and you needed to leave the stuffy confines of your post for a moment. 
“Oh. Hello.” You hear, and you look up, surprised to see Lieutenant Winters. “I just happened to be walking by and thought I would come say hello.” What you didn’t know is that he had given himself a papercut on purpose so he could come speak to you directly. Finding that you were already there, he forgot all about his self-inflicted cut and approached you carefully. 
You can’t help but smile at him. Of course, you smiled at many of the men, but something about Winters made you want to smile whenever you saw him. “Hello, Lieutenant Winters.” You say politely. Dick arches an eyebrow and looks down at you. 
“Please, call me Dick.” He says, one corner of his mouth quirking up at you, and you grin at him. His heart feels like it seized a bit, and he realizes that seeing you is something he keeps finding himself seeking out. 
“Okay.” You say sweetly. “Nice to meet you, Dick.” 
Now it’s Dick’s turn to grin at you. “Nice to meet you.” His blue eyes sparkle at you and you turn back to look at the road. 
Dick clears his throat. “You know, I -“ 
You turn to look at him again and he falters. He’s too nervous to tell you just how much he enjoys seeing you.
“Never mind. I seem to have lost my train of thought, Nurse.” He looks down briefly at the finger with the paper cut and you notice, gently taking his hand in yours. Dick’s heart skips a beat and you examine his finger. 
“Just a small paper cut. Do you want a bandage?” You say, looking up at him with what he swears is the sweetest expression he’s ever seen. 
He shakes his head slowly at you. “No, no. Save it for a man who needs it.” You notice that he doesn’t move his hand out of yours right away, and you like it. You would be lying if you said you didn’t have a small crush on the lieutenant, and when it felt like he sought you out just to say hello, you were elated. 
“You’re a noble man,Lieutenant. Braving that paper cut all by yourself.” You tease him, lowering both your hands gently. You bring your hand up and tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, aware of his eyes on you. 
“Well, someone has to do it.” He jokes lightly back. 
The two of you stand outside the aid station, a small smile playing on both your lips. 
3. The Ricochet 
You would be lying if you said you weren’t panicked. There was a rumor running through that Dick Winters had been shot, and you were running around the station, gathering whatever it was you thought might help. The other nurses glanced between themselves, knowing that Winters was important to you, even if you wouldn’t admit it. 
You make sure there’s a cot ready, waiting to see Doc Roe rush in, yelling at the others that a surgeon was needed, that Dick was losing too much blood, that he might not make it. 
When Dick walks in, limping, you stand there, shocked. 
He was standing upright. 
Dick raises his eyes and notices you, limping towards you. “Just the nurse I need to see.” You stare at him, unsure how to react, what to say. If your silence wasn’t embarrassing enough, you could feel tears pricking at your eyes. “Are…are you alright?” You look as if you may faint, and Dick reaches his hand out to cup your elbow gently. 
You blink a few times, looking up at him. Then you look down at his feet, remembering that he had limped over to meet you. “I…oh my, I’m so sorry.” You say, guiding him to a chair. Sitting opposite him, you just shake your head. “I…um. They told me you had been shot. That it might be bad.” 
Dick’s eyebrows raise, now understanding why you seemed to be worried. “Oh, no. No, sweetheart, it’s just a ricochet wound.” 
You pretend not to notice the “sweetheart” that slipped from his lips as he lifted his leg for you to examine. It truly wasn’t as bad as you had been told, and you clean and bandage it quickly. “You need to try and stay off this leg.” 
He shakes his head at you. “I can’t.” 
You smile sadly at him. “I know.” 
He leans forward and smiles softly at you, lifting your hand and bringing it to his lips. “Thank you, nurse.” 
4. The Night George Luz Asked You To Dance
Dick didn’t know why his stomach felt like someone had reached into and grabbed it with an iron fist. 
But Nixon did. As he follows Dick’s gaze he notices you, happily dancing with George Luz. He sees you throw your head back in a laugh and swears he sees Dick’s jaw jump. 
The men and most of the nurses were drinking, dancing, having a general good time before everything crumbled and went haywire. It almost felt normal, but what about war could ever be normal? Dick clears his throat and looks down at his feet briefly, noticing that the song had slowed down considerably, and you were now in Luz’s arms, swaying slightly to the soft music in the background. 
Nixon is still glancing at Dick when he sees his friend cross the room and cut in, taking you in to the same slow dance you had just been dancing with Luz. 
Dick looks down at you. “You look lovely tonight.” 
You smile up at him, blushing slightly. “How many pretty nurses have you said that to tonight?” You see his eyes soften considerably and he chuckles. 
“Only one.” You blush openly now as Dick draws you in, his cheek resting gently against your head as you sway to the music. 
“How’s your leg doing?” You ask quietly, and you hear Winters hum. 
“Sore. I’m just lucky I had such a tender nurse.” 
You pull your head back to look at him, finding him ready to meet your eyes. 
“I have to confess that it’s easy being a nurse to such a kind man.” You say, and Dick smiles at you. 
“I have to confess something as well.” He says, his eyes searching yours. “I think you are the nicest girl I’ve ever met.” He pauses, turning you slightly as the two of you sway to the song. “And I find myself thinking about you more and more.” 
You swallow, your eyes flicking across his face. “Is that so?” 
He nods, watching your face. You feel his arm around your back gently pull you closer again. He’s always gentle with you, like he thinks you might break. 
“I’ve thought about you a lot too. I think you may know that I care about you…given my reaction to your wound.” 
Dick’s heart skips a beat at this confession, and he takes his hand to softly cup under your chin, pulling your eyes to meet him. “When this is over, let me take you dancing properly.” 
“Does that mean you’ll stop dancing with me now when given the chance?” You ask, eyebrows scrunched together in fake anguish. 
Dick laughs, gently lifting your chin again. “May I kiss you?”  
You can’t speak, you just nod. He leans in, his lips touching yours ever so gently. 
It was saccharine, and when he pulls away from you, you can’t help but grin widely at him as he rests his forehead on yours. “What’s that pretty little smile for?” 
You shrug slightly. “Just terribly happy that you think about me as much as I think about you.” 
“I have ever since I first laid eyes on you, sweetheart.” 
You smile to yourself, feeling like you might burst with the butterflies that were fluttering in your stomach. 
From afar, Lewis Nixon stands with a drink in his hand, a small smile on his lips, happy that Dick had finally plucked up the courage to gather you in his arms. 
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softguarnere · 7 months
Note
Hi, Dove!
It’s been awhile! I hope you’re doing well!
Sending in an request, idk where this is going😂
Okay so female reader with Liebgott and something along the lines where one of them yells “BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, YOU IDIOT!” in the middle of an argument. I’m not really sure about the rest of the details, so you can do whatever you want😂
Have a great day!
Hardheaded At Best
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Joe Liebgott x reader
A/N: Hi lovely! Thanks so much for another wonderful request! I hope you enjoy it, and that you have a great day as well 💕 (This is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) Warnings: language, mentions of war
When was the last time that you felt this angry, this fired up? Some distant part of you wonders as white-hot wrath courses through your veins. Your nails dig into the soft beds of your palms, barely containing yourself as you stalk through the hallways, boots echoing off the walls of the remnants of Haguenau’s buildings. Although you think you’re doing a pretty good job of appearing calm, the people who pass you by give you concerned looks as they watch you go. Is it that obvious?
Either it’s not, or Liebgott is good at pretending. Because when you stomp into the room, he only glances up at you. He doesn’t look ready to fight, or even to throw a witty remark your way.
For a moment, you just stand before him, spluttering as you work out what to say and gasping as you try to catch your breath over the adrenaline caused by the anger surging through you. Finally, you manage to spit out the simplest question you can manage. “Joey, what did you do?”
The two of you are the only ones in the room. There’s no one else around. No one else to look cool for, to perform for. Yet Joe continues calmly smoking his cigarette. He blows a smoke ring, as if you haven’t just demanded an answer, then grinds out his cigarette and looks up at you, completely neutral.
“I did what I had to do.”
“Am I the only person in second platoon not going on this patrol?” You wonder aloud. “Tab said that you volunteered to take my place.”
Joe shrugs. “Yeah.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, forcing a lungful of air to try and calm yourself. You don’t want to yell. Hell, you and Joe were so competitive back in Toccoa, half teasing and half not as you competed against each other in everything, that you’ve been determined not to argue since you finally became friends back Holland. But this – this is testing your resolve.
“Why would you do that?” You ask slowly, emerging from behind your hand to look at him again – still infuriatingly casual.
“(Y/N), the war is almost over.”
“So they say.”
“I’m not risking losing you over there,” Joe says. “We’ve been watching each other’s backs forever now. But we’re too close to making it out of this thing to risk it all now. Besides, what’s the point of having two translators?”
He’s not risking losing you over there? “But what about you, huh? I don’t want to lose you either, Joe.”
“Had to be one of us.”
He’s right. Someone has to be able to communicate with the prisoners that will be taken. But if someone has to go, you would prefer that both of you cross that river. Then one of you wouldn’t be waiting anxiously all night. You could watch each other’s backs, just like you’ve been doing.
Any points you might make to refute his lodge in your throat, sticking there while you fumble. Liebgott is hardheaded at the best of times; you don’t know what to say to make him see this from your perspective.
The conflicting emotions must show on your face, because Joe cocks an eyebrow in question. “Why does this bother you so much, anyway? It’s not like this is the first time only one of us has gone on a patrol.”
No, but it’s the first time that this has happened since you became friends. Since you started caring about him. Since you started worrying about losing him . . .
That’s when the realization hits you. The emotion that underlies all of your internal conflict isn’t anger – it’s fear. Fear of losing someone you’ve grown to care for.
“Joe, I can’t let you go alone. I’ll talk to Speirs myself. I – “
“(Y/N), no!” In a second, Joe jumps up from his chair and places a hand on your shoulder to stop you. His eyes are wide, and he’s got an expression that you’ve never seen before, and that you can’t quite place. “I got you taken off that patrol for a reason.”
“Well, you shouldn’t have,” you retort, a renewed wave of anger sweeping over you. “It wasn’t your choice to make.”
“I did it because I love you, you idiot!” Joe exclaims. Then he blinks, as if stunned by his own words. Perhaps they did not have his permission to be spoken. Or maybe they weren’t planned, or he doesn’t know where they came from.
You certainly don’t. Don’t know where they came from, that is. Joe never seemed interested in anything romantic with you. You, however, have occasionally allowed your mind to wander to a place where your friend is something a little more – a place where he holds your hand and reserves all his warmest smiles just for you. You never would have imagined that his mind had wandered in a similar direction. “You – you what?”
Joe hesitates, then nods, confirming his words to both you and himself. “I love you, (Y/N). That’s why I got you taken off the patrol. So that I don’t have to worry about you.”
“That’s why I want to be on the patrol – with you! So I don’t have to worry.”
“Oh.” Joe blinks again, taking it all in. “I tried to protect you. You tried to protect me. We both fucked up.” He tilts his head, studying you. “Do you really?”
“What?”
“Love me?”
“Yes,” you answer with no hesitation. It’s strange to say it out loud. To realize it, here, in this moment, at maybe the same time that he did. And right before the patrol places you on two different sides of that river, where God knows what will happen.
Gently, Liebgott takes your hand. His lips are warm when he presses them against your knuckles in a sweet kiss. “Then I have a reason to make it back across the river.”
Your heart trips over itself in your chest. How cruel is fate, to let it happen like this. “You better. Joseph Liebgott, I swear to God, you better come back from the patrol.”
But maybe fate isn’t cruel after all. Because you’ve hardly left the room, hardly stepped outside, when Major Winters stops the two of you and informs you that Joe will not be crossing the river – he will be staying firmly on this side to provide covering fire, with you.
The major walks away like nothing happened, leaving the two of you confused, but smiling. You can’t help but laugh as you take it in. “What happened?” You wonder aloud. After all, how are they going to take German prisoners without a translator?
“No clue.” Joe squeezes your hand. “But I ain’t complaining.”
It’s brief, but from across the street, Webster catches your eye. The Harvard man gives you a nod. He’s a writer. A romantic, even.
You return the gesture, wondering if Joe saw it as well. “Yeah. Me neither.”
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Green Dress - Bill Guarnere x F!Reader
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Summary: Easy Company hits the town for a much needed night of fun and relaxation in Paris. Reader, who's always in regular military wear and very tomboy, decides to dress up for the night and receives varying reactions from the boys.
Warnings: 18+ content, cursing, oral (f receiving), 1st person female POV (no use of y/n), I think that's it.
A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.
A/N pt2: This is my first time writing any type of explicit sexual scene, let me know what y'all think. As usual likes, comments, and reblogs give me love. Enjoy!!
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I look at myself in the mirror and can't decide if I like what I see or should call the whole night off and stay in bed. I've styled my hair in a simple design, flowy but still away from my face. Light make-up highlights my eyes, cheeks and lips; just enough to make everything pop without being over the top. My hands run down my dress, picking away invisible lint. It's a deep, gorgeous green that almost shimmers in the light, falling just above my knee in a way that would cause outrage back home but is just this side of acceptable in Paris.
Ah, screw it. Let's have some fun. With a final twirl, I flash myself a smile and excite my hotel room to meet the guys downstairs. I stop briefly at the top of the stairs and look at the group waiting for me. We've been through a lot together; Toccoa, Sobel, jumping (literally) into Normandy, countless battles won and lost, losing fellow brother's, etc. Never once did they make me feel alienated or less than, each providing different facets of friendship and overall making a family.
In a weird way I was nervous to have them see me so feminine and semi dolled up. I've never wore anything other than the standard OD uniforms and was always down for "boy activities" in the down times. I was constantly referred to as "one of the boys" and never really cared until this moment. I was worried my effort would be turned into a joke. Just once I'd like them to see me as an actual woman. Well, at least one of them to anyways.
Just as I started my decent towards them, Luz catches sight of me and gives a loud whistle before beginning to clap. This catches the others attention and pretty soon the lobby is filled with whistles and claps until I reach the bottom of the stairs. I give them all an embarrassed smile, fully aware that my face is burning a deep red and I'm fighting the urge to run back upstairs and hide.
"Lookin' good kid!" Toye comes up and gives me a small kiss on my cheek, smiling as he motions for me to twirl around. I do a small spin, setting off the whistles and claps again.
"Oh, stop you hound dogs." I laugh lightly, waving my hands at them to quiet down.
"You knew a lady was underneath all those clothes and dirt." Luz shoots me a cheeky smile, grabbing my hand and giving it a kiss. I flip him off once he releases my hand, making him laugh. "There she is!"
"Alright let's get out of here, I'm dying for a drink." I start to make my way through the group to the exit. This causes a small, playful scuffle to erupt as some of the guys move towards me to grab my hand and be my escort. In the end Liebgott wins, shooting everyone a smile and me a wink. As we all spill out into the streets in search of the bar, my eyes briefly connect with Bill and I'm left wondering what's caused the frown on his face.
Two hours later, I'm on my fourth beer and loving the buzz I'm feeling. I've just finished another turn around the dance floor, being passed between Tab, Luz, Bull, and even Martin joined for a few beats. Needing to catch my breathe, I settle on a barstool and wait for my water to arrive. Before my water can get there, a few shadows come up to my side. Expecting it to be some of my group, I spin around with a wide smile and am met with three strangers faces.
"Oh, sorry. I thought you were part of my Company." I give a small laugh, slightly embarrassed. The one closest to me just smiles and shakes his head slightly.
"No need to apologize ma'dam, if you'll have us we'd like to keep you company though." His English was nearly perfect, made sweeter by his French accent. What's the harm in a little flirting?
With a soft smile, I extend my hand out to them and give my name. They each take turns telling me theirs and giving my hand a kiss afterwards. While definitely being more flirty than I imagined they'd be, they were pleasant enough to talk to and even made me laugh a few times. When a new song started to play Pierre, the first one to speak to me, asks if I'd like to dance and I agree.
We are halfway through the song, having a really good time, when someone taps Pierre's shoulder. To my shock and confusion, there was Bill. He looks like he is holding himself back from killing Pierre, for what reason I have no clue.
"Mind if I cut in." It was a statement, flat out. No room for but's or giving a raincheck. I see Pierre is ready to go toe to toe with Bill, but that is a fight he'd never win and I don't want the night to turn sour.
I pat Pierre's shoulder and tell him it was alright and I've had a lovely time. He looks skeptical at Bill, but gave me a perfect smile mirroring my sentiments and gave my hand a final kiss as he walks back to his friends. Without wasting anytime, Bill grabs the hand that was just kissed and tugs me flush against him.
It takes a few seconds to get into a comfortable rhythm after that awkward start, whatever the hell that was, but we manage and are soon swaying between the other dancing partners. I was torn between reveling in the feeling of the heat of his hand on my waist and the skin to skin contact of our hands, and how confused and frustrated I am with how he acted.
"I don't know why you did that. Pierre was a nice guy." I speak low enough so the words stay just between us and can't float out to the Easy boys that seem to be watching us with barely concealed interest. They must have witnessed the exchange too.
Bill scoffs and his hand squeezes my waist for a half second. "Pierre. What kinda name is that for a man. Fucking French." I shoot him a small glare.
"Don't be rude. He was a gentleman." Bill rolls his eyes at me then spins me out then back in.
"Gentleman my ass. He was only interested in getting to know you because you're looking like a lady."
His words turn my body into stone and I frown up at him. "Looking like... Fuck you." I rip my hand out his and push him slightly, it doesn't do more than make him shuffle his feet but it's definitely got his attention.
"What the hell is your problem?" His jaw is set and his eyes are burning daggers at me.
"My problem? I don't have a problem. What's your problem? I'm not some dumb little girl that doesn't know what men are like. I know he was flirting with me, hoping for me to go off with him. He wasn't going to get anything, but guess what...I liked the attention! I liked having someone notice that I'm a woman and reminding me that I can be desirable. I'm not just looking like a lady, I am a damn lady you asshole." With a final shove, I turn on my heel and leave the bar before him or anyone else can try and stop me.
I'm halfway down the street, heading to the hotel, when I hear someone jogging behind me. I decide to ignore them and pray it's someone wanting to get someplace fast and not actually coming to talk to me or convince me to come back. Sadly, my prayers are not answered as a hand grabs hold of my elbow spins me around. I'm once again face to face with Bill.
"I don't want to talk to you anymore." I growl out, trying to yank my arm back to no avail.
"You don't gotta talk, just listen. I need to set some things straight." He's using his stern, Sergeant voice, and normally that'd have me blushing but I'm too angry for it to have it's usual effect on me right now.
"No thanks, I've heard enough for the evening." I make another attempt to pull my arm out, but he just pulls me closer and wraps his arms around me arms and waist, pining me against him. All I can do is glare.
Bill scans the sidewalk and road quickly, slightly nodding to himself as he makes some internal decision and lifts me off the ground, walking us a little ways into an alley to our right. We are far enough in that no one can stumble upon us easily but we can still get some of the street light so it's not pitch black.
"What the hell Bill? Have you become a psycho killer?" I push a little away from him, but that only presses me against the alley wall. He uses this to his advantage by taking a step forward, caging me between him and the wall. My brain short circuits a little at being so close to him.
"You're wrong." When he doesn't immediately continue, I raise an eyebrow hoping to encourage him to elaborate. After a few more seconds he continues. "We know you're a lady. The whole damn battalion knows you're a lady. Wearing OD's doesn't hide the shape of your ass when you bend over to help with the car engines or the outline of your breasts when you take your jacket off to cool down. All you have to do is glance around and you'll see the boys drooling all over themselves staring at you." His hand lands on my hip and squeezes. Hard.
I have to take a few deep breathes to steady myself before formulating a response. "If that's true, then what was the big deal about those guys flirting with me tonight?"
"Because they don't know what everyone in the battalion knows. You're my girl. It's one thing to have the boys dance with you or give you compliments, they'd never cross that line or I'd kill 'em. Those French twats wanted to cross that line." I barely registered anything after his declaration: my girl. His girl.
"You're girl?" My words come out in a whisper. Bill's face finally starts to soften and an easy smile starts to spread across his face.
"You really are oblivious. It's the worst kept secret in Easy Company. You drive me fucking crazy, sweetheart. Gorgeous, funny, sweet, and just the right mixture of feminine and tomboy. Everything I've ever dreamed of. And you're wrapped up like a damn present in this dress and I've been dying to get it open all night." By the time he's done speaking his mouth is a hairs breathe away from mine, eyes searching mine for any sign of rejection.
All words have left me so I decide to respond with action and close the distance between us. What starts out as gentle and timid, quickly transforms to rough and frenzied. Bill gives my bottom lip a bite, causing me to gasp and allowing him access into my mouth. I don't bother putting up a fight, I'm putty in his arms and give him full dominance. The hand not squeezing my hip so hard I know there will be some type of bruise, grasps the back of my neck and angles my head to the side to give him better access.
My hands have made their way up his chest, to his shoulders, and finally still with one in his hair and the other at the back of his neck. When the need for air becomes to much for me, I turn my head slightly to the side and break the kiss. Bill's breathing just as heavily as I am, but doesn't stop his assault. He moves my head again and starts trailing kisses up and down my neck, alternating between nips and licks based on my reactions. When he hits a particular sweet spot, I can feel him grin before biting there again hard enough to leave a mark.
"Fuck." I moan out, scratching the back of his neck. "That's gonna be hard to hide." With a final kiss on the new mark, Bill lifts his head to meet my eyes. His eyes are dark with lust and he can't stop smiling.
"That's the point, sweetheart." I roll my eyes at him, but smile back.
"If you get to mark me, I think it's only fair I get to mark you."
"Baby, you can do whatever you want to me. I'm yours." His voice is so deep, it makes my legs shake and I'm instantly happy I have that wall to hold me.
"I think you owe me an apology for what you said to me at the bar before I decide what I wanna do you with you." I mean more as a joke, but he seems to really be thinking about. Before I can reassure him that I'm not upset anymore, he gives me a kiss that has me seeing stars.
Before it leads to another make-out session, Bill breaks away from my mouth, trails kisses down the other side of my neck and then suddenly drops to his knees in front of me.
"What are you doing?" The situation wasn't bad enough to do this.
"I'm apologizing." Bill's eyes are so dark they could pass for solid black and his voice is deep and sensual. My response is cut short as I feel his hands run up my legs, going under my dress and grasp my thighs. With a smirk, he slowly finishes his trek to my underwear and starts pulling them down.
"Bill." I don't know if I say his name to make him stop or because I'm praising him. Either way, I have nothing to follow it up with. He keeps his eyes on me as I shift my feet helping him get my underwear completely off, noticing that he stuffs them in his pocket.
"Just lean back and enjoy baby. Be a good girl and hold this for me." He pushes my dress up to my waist, waiting for me to take hold of it. Good girl, Jesus.
"Sir, yes, sir." I take note of the tightening of his jaw and how his eyes somehow become even darker. There's something to explore later.
Bill grabs hold of my thigh and drapes it over his shoulder, trailing soft kisses on the inside. As he gets closer to my center, he bites and sucks a mark just for us to know about. A small moan escapes and my unoccupied hand lands in his hair. Before the sting has completely faded from his bite, I'm taken over by the sensation of his tongue gliding through my folds.
The only sounds to be heard is our combined groans, my heavy breathing, and his tongue working me like a man starved. His hand not holding my thigh in a death grip, maneuvers around to spread me more open for him and I nearly pass out when he sucks on my clit. I yank on his hair which only seems to spur him on as he starts starts alternating between licking and sucking.
The only words I seem to be able to say is his name and fuck. As my approach to my orgasm comes closer, I'm able to mumble out that I'm close. Bill tabs my thigh to make me look down at him and I nearly cum at the sight.
"Let go, sweetheart. That's an order. Cum. Now." His words, combined with the determined look on his face and a final hard suck on my clit has me falling over the edge chanting his name over and over again.
Bill doesn't let up as my orgasm washes over me, licking and drinking up my release until I start to whimper at the overstimulation. Slowly he places my thigh back on the ground, gently stroking my legs, and tugs my dress back down to cover me again. My hands grip his shoulders as he stands back up and I take in the sight of him. Hair completely wrecked from my fingers, face red from his efforts, breathing heavy and looking like he might drop to knee's to do it all over again.
I grab his jacket and pull him flush against me, kissing him with all the strength I have. He returns the kiss with as much force and pulls my thigh up around his hip, making our hips meet. I moan into the kiss at the feeling of his erection so close to my center and roll my hips to grind against him.
"If you don't stop that, we won't make it back to the hotel." Bill growls between kisses.
"Then you better get us there quickly." I give his lip a quick bite, before a laugh slips out at how fast he starts pulling by the hand back to the sidewalk and towards the hotel.
I think I'll wear this dress more often.
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hanniewinnix · 1 month
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Gene is me. I am Gene
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joenotexotic99 · 7 months
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Hello Doll! New fan here! You're so precious! 🥰 we NEED pt 2 of BoB "Sleeping with them for the first time", my request: Speirs, Toye, Eugene, Webster, Buck. AND pls wrote more Lovetropes! I've read it so many times, that I can quote from memory! xoxo
A/n this might be dirtier than pt1. Will do a pt 2 of love tropes ofc. Lmk if you have some people in mind for that
<3
-this is a work of fiction based on the actors portrayal only. Every ounce of respect to the real heros-
Warning: NSFW, plain sinful smut. Lots of language. Minors dni
Masterlist
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Ronald Speirs
- this man will change your whole perspective of sex afterwards. You've both been pinning each other for a while and decide to go on a date. Yet the whole time you both have been practically removing each other's clothes with your eyes. Lingering touches, flirty behavior. Lets just say that you didn't quite make it through all the courses before Speirs asked for the check. You make it back to his place before he immediately kisses you. You start removing clothes while grabbing and feeling any skin you can both get your hands on. He turns you around to unzip your dress, taking it off your figure. He spun you back around to pick you up and set you down on the kitchen counter. You remove his belt and tug at his pants and boxers until the both of you are head to toe naked. He gives you a looks off 'are you sure' you nod yes before he lifts you legs up and fucks you. Praise after praise, surface after surface. It's a wild ride.
"Fuck you feel so good you know that princess?"
Joe toye
-he's sweet and spontaneous. It's a similar experience to George luz where it happens after a few dates. It starts slow, careful almost. But eventually you melt under him. He kisses you harder, Backs you to a wall. You remove each other's shirts. His hands unclips your bra. He makes hickies after hickies up and down your neck. He picks you up and brings you to the bedroom. Kisses down to your skirt to take that off as well. This man would love to praise you. And his voice!? He will mutter the most downright bad into your ears. He could make you come from just that alone. I feel like he's big on moaning you know. Your make him feel so good he's going to let you know that. Will do anything you ask him to do. You want him to touch you. He's instantly rubbing your clit, you want him to suck you Titts, he'll do that too. Fuck you harder and faster. He'll break the mattress. Will make you finish at least twice. Once on his cock. Then he'll clean you up with his tongue. But he is sooo sweet with the after care.
"God I wish you could see yourself right now doll. Getting fucked properly"
Eugene roe
-he's honestly a little nervous. He doesn't want to hurt you. It starts back at your place. Some wine after a good home cooked dinner. The alcohol helps with confidence. It's slow and passionate. He would be completely fine with kissing you for hours on end. But you've had one too many dirty dreams about this man so it's now or never. Eugene will be so great with foreplay. Makes you feel worshiped like no man has ever made you feel before. Always checking to make sure you're ok. When it gets time to really dance if you know what I mean he's super scared that something is going to go wrong. This poor man. You are so worked up from his touch that you have to tell him to just shut up and fuck you. It's like a switch goes off in his head. And the only thing he can suddenly think of is you. He fucks you until the only thing you can think of, only thing you can scream is his name. He robs you of every last breath in your lungs. It's dirty, passionate, sweaty and oh so good. Best God damn orgasm of your life. When you both finish and clean up. He definitely raps you up in his arms.
"Thank you"
"For what?"
"Giving me the best dick of my life"
David Webster
-HERE ME OUT! One bed trope. But it's not at a hotel or anything. You head to his place, have dinner, watch a movie, whatever. Oh no it's dark and raining. How about you stay the night? Oh crap this is a one bed apartment. You get the point. He offers you the bed and he'll sleep on the couch but you say that's silly and to just share the bed. Webster already had a huge crush on you so his ears turn a bright red, but how can he turn down the offer to share a bed with you? You get ready and both go to bed. It's awkward at first until he breaks the silence with one of those deep questions and you start talking for hours. One thing leads to another and he's on top of you. He kisses you until you lose your mind. You run your hands up his bare chest until you reach the stubble on his face. You slowly remove each article of clothing on the both of you. The air is thick and warm. Can you imagine how feral this man will go if you praise him. This man just wants some love ok? He asks you how sure you are about this, not wanting to cross any boundaries. You agree enthusiastically. You tug at his hair. Run your hands down his back. He kisses your neck, holds your waist. He's so gentle with aftercare too. From here on out you stay the night more often.
"Just like that web don't stop, so good, you're so good"
"Fuck sweetheart you're gunna make me come"
Buck Compton
-I know this is sorta cliché but fire sex. It's around the holidays. It's cold, snowing and dark outside. Inside it's warm, cozy and comfortable. You are still in puppy love faze. It's sweet. You are both on the couch blanket on top. Fire crackling. Buck reading you a book. You have thought about it a lot, sex. Yet you've never really got there. Steamy makeout sessions. Been there and done that. But it hasn't made it farther than that. But gooood you want it to. Your hands wander over him. Getting more and more close south each time. You rub his thigh, testing the waters. You can tell he notices by how his adams apple moves. You slowly undo his belt as he continues to read the book. He lets you pull his jeans down and slowly remove him from his boxers. You move your hand tauntingly slow. Not moving any faster in hopes of riling him up. He puts the book down and pulls you up to his lips. He removes your shirt and bra. Flips you over to remove your pants and underwear. He's sweet and confident in each move he makes. He kisses up and down your inner thigh until he finally makes it to the center. He gives you a taste of your own medicine. Slowly keeping you on edge with his tongue until you beg him to fuck you. And he does just that. It's better than you could have ever imagined.
"For fucks sake buck if you don't get up here and dick me down"
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bloodstainedsaint · 5 months
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the sniper (joseph liebgott x sniper! reader)
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summary: when you transferred from dog company to easy company following the battle of bloody gulch, you thought you knew what to expect of men in the military— though you really wanted joe liebgott to prove you wrong
word count: just over 3500
warnings: period-typical sexism & misogyny (big part of the story), very minor violence, denying feelings, mutual pining, reader lowkey has trust issues, full of other characters but hopefully no one's ooc?? also this fic is kinda messy 😭
notes: happy thanksgiving! enjoy this fic for the holidays 💞 also your favs AREN'T sexist, just confused
Gossip, you realized, was an easy way to kill time for the men of the military, especially with the recent news that there would be a transfer to Easy Company— the transfer being you, of course. You had no idea you were such a hot topic until you walked down a street of Aldbourne in search of the man currently in charge of your new company, Lieutenant Winters, and overheard a trio of soldiers discussing rumors as they sat around awaiting orders.
“Hey, have you heard that there’s a transfer coming from D-Company?” one said, lighting a cigarette.
“Whew, he must’ve not taken any smokes from Lieutenant Sparky, huh, Don?” another chuckled, stealing the cigarette out of who you guessed was Don’s fingers and puffing for emphasis, much to Don’s displeasure.
Huffing, Don continued, “He’s a sniper, apparently! Better than Shifty!”
“Nah, no one’s better than Shifty,” the third butted in. “Shifty can shoot you right between the eyes blindfolded.”
“Shifty would deny that ‘til he died, Penk,” said the second with a smile.
“It’s true, Skip! Apparently he tracked a target from 1,000 yards away and still got him in the head! Bang! Just like that,” Don said while he mimicked holding a rifle and firing.
“Psh, our boy Shifty could do that, or better: 2,000 yards, right?” Skip nudged Penk with his shoulder.
Penk shrugged. “Length don’t matter, anyway. It’s what you do with the gun, not how far it shoots.”
Skip and Don shared a look and grinned, the latter joking, “Don’t you mean distance, Alex? What, you insecure about something?”
The trio devolved into laughter and banter, but was suddenly quieted as Don patted the others and pointed at you approaching. Several other men standing nearby swiveled their heads to watch as well.
A woman dressed in fatigues, the shoulder of her uniform emblazoned with the Screaming Eagles patch, a M1 Garand slung around her back— they couldn't seem to get their mind around it. Disregarding their curious stares (you’d gotten a lot of them for the past two years or so that you've been enlisted), you walked past the group of spectators.
A couple of men whistled lowly, and a murmur spread through the small crowd. You stopped in your tracks for a moment, eyes downward in thought. Surely one of these men knows where Lieutenant Winters is. You turned on your heel toward the group.
“Afternoon,” you addressed the onlookers, who were now either standing up or gathering around in interest. Your eyes went from man to man, meeting inquisitive and suspicious stares alike, unfazed. “Anyone know where I can find Lieutenant Winters?”
“You, uh, you lost?” a diminutive man — Perconte, his name tag read — asked.
One with a strict face and a glower already etched into it — Martin — stepped into the scattered group. “Who’s asking?”
“Private (Y/N), sir,” you said with a quick salute that was returned. “I’m transferring from Dog Company to Easy Company. I was told to look for a Lieutenant Winters.”
The men exchanged a look amongst each other.
The man from earlier, Don, spoke up with awe apparent in his voice. “You’re a sniper?”
You turned to him with a curt nod. “Yes, I’m a sharpshooter.”
Then a lanky, scrappy-looking guy, Liebgott, entered with a smirk tugging upon his lips. Just by looking at his crooked smile and raised eyebrows, you knew he was going to cause you trouble. Just another man ogling at you like you're nothing but a pretty face. What else is new? “You need help getting around base?”
“No thank you, that won’t be necessary,” you swiftly rebuffed, turning your attention back to the rest of the men. You set them with an expectant look.
“You can find Lieutenant Winters over there at CP,” Randleman, a large red-headed man, said around a hefty cigar in his mouth, nodding his head in the tent’s direction. “If he’s not there, try the mess cabin.”
With a small smile, grateful that someone finally answered your question instead of asking more of them, you thanked him, saluted, and walked off.
As you started towards CP, you heard behind your back, “Did Roosevelt change something while we were overseas? ‘Cause I just saw a lady wearing paratrooper clothing with a rifle ‘round her back.”
“Very astute, George,” someone replied.
You could almost hear the smirk in Liebgott’s voice as he declared, “I’m gonna go talk to her.”
“Yeah, come back alive,” another voice — Skip, maybe — chimed in. “Speirs might’ve rubbed off on her.”
You only had a few seconds to mentally prepare yourself before you heard footsteps catching up behind you. Liebgott was now walking side by side with you, matching your brisk pace.
“Hey, (Y/N), right?”
You took a sidelong glance at him. “That’s right.”
“Joseph D. Liebgott. Technician 5th-Grade.”
“And is there a reason why you’re following me to CP, Liebgott?”
“Thought I’d show you around base, get to know you a little.”
“And I thought I declined your assistance,” you said firmly. “I was part of Dog Company; I'm not new around here.”
“Alright, how about introducing you to Easy men when you’re finished?” He threw a smile your way. “They’re curious about you.”
You slightly grimaced at the thought of being at the center of attention for so many strangers. “I’d rather not.”
“Why? They’re great guys. I don’t know about Dog Company men and their Lieutenant Speirs, but Easy men, especially Toccoa men, are different.”
They don’t seem all that different to me. You gripped the strap of your gun a little tighter. “Once again, I’ll pass.”
He shrugged. “You’ll warm up to us.”
A tense silence ensued. You did your best to not seem bothered by it. Usually by this point people gave up and stopped talking to you entirely.
“So, uh,” he began, running his hands through his hair. Of course you weren’t getting rid of him that easily. Your intuition earlier was right. “Why’re you transferring over to Easy? No offense, but we've got a helluva marksman already.”
“I wasn’t given a reason, just an order.”
“That so? Well, maybe you’ll take his place as our resident sniper, huh?”
“Looking forward to it,” you responded drily.
He chuckled. “You’ll fit right into Easy with the rest of the snarkers. Where you from, (Y/N)?”
You eyed him cautiously. “Lansing, Michigan.”
“Get outta here, you serious? I'm from there too!” Liebgott cracked a smile and gazed at you. “Man, I might’ve seen you around and just haven’t realized it. Could've been talking to you years ago.”
You pursed your lips. “It wouldn't have helped your chances, Liebgott.”
Grinning, he said, undaunted, “What chances? We're just talking. I wanna know the lady I’ll be fighting with.”
“You just want to know if I’m single or not. That’s all,” you icily said as the two of you neared the tent.
Apparently found out, Liebgott smiled broadly and stopped a few feet from CP while you continued walking. “Well, are you?”
You turned to face him. “Yes, I’m single, and no, I’m not interested in sleeping with you.”
You couldn’t see the smile melt off his face as you entered the tent, eyes searching amongst all the men and equipment for the tall soldier you’ve seen conversing with Lieutenant Speirs before.
“Private (Y/N),” a voice called. You looked in its direction and finally found Winters.
“Lieutenant Winters.” You saluted.
“You’re the new transfer, right?” he asked, beckoning you further into the tent for some privacy. You were thankful that most of the men here were too occupied with their own duties to notice you.
You followed him to a quiet corner. “Yes, sir.”
“Met the men yet?”
“Some of them.”
“Anyone give you trouble?” he asked gently. “You can tell me.”
You paused, thinking. Nothing past some inquisitive stares and a couple of questions. “No, sir.”
Winters perceived your hesitation. “If that changes, tell me. They're good men, but they might be a bit eager to meet you.”
You nodded. Liebgott certainly was. He analyzed your face for a second before continuing, “Try to get yourself acquainted at dinner before you go into combat with them. That’ll be all, Private.”
You saluted, knowing full well that you’ll most likely try to get a seat by yourself, away from the clamor of the men.
“Thank you, sir.”
-
It turned out that no seat was good enough to escape the onslaught of questions.
You had gotten there early and took a seat at the far end of one of the tables with a book in hand and not much of an appetite. Unfortunately for you, being one of the first ones there instead of a head in a crowd of people singled you out, and eventually you were surrounded by men wanting to know more.
“Hey, this is the new replacement I’ve been hearing so much about, yeah?” Bill Guarnere, or Wild Bill, as they called him, questioned, shoving himself into one of the seats at your table.
“Transfer, Gonorrhea, not a replacement,” Liebgott said from your side. When he had entered the mess cabin, you had attempted to hide yourself with your book, but to no avail. He had beelined toward you, beaming ear to ear as he slid into the seat next to you.
“You into books?” he said, eyes going from you to the book in your hands.
You thought that he might actually surprise you.“Yeah, are you?”
He scoffed lightheartedly. “What, you kidding? I love to read!”
A ghost of a smile graced your face. “What kind?”
“Oh, you know, Dick Tracy, Flash Gordon, mostly!” he said, seemingly proud of himself, and your smile disappeared.
Soon after that, people swarmed your table. If you were being fair, though, Liebgott had spoken for you for most of the night, making sure you could read in relative peace. If you didn't know any better, you’d say that he was just enjoying you being by his side, but you were still wary of any underlying intentions (let’s say, getting into your pants) he might have.
Yet, out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the way he looked at you from time to time with a small smile upturning his lips, and you wanted to believe he didn't have any.
“Transfer, replacement, whatever,” Bill brushed it off with a wave of his hand. “What I wanna know is—”
“—why she’s a girl?” Liebgott finished. “Jeez, I dunno, she’s only been asked this twelve times tonight.”
“If you’d let me finish,” Bill said with a pointed look at Liebgott as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, “I was gonna ask if she did shoot a Kraut from 1,000 yards away.”
“You’d be giving ole Shifty a real run for his money, ain't that right, Shift?” Joe — the other one, Joe Toye — said from beside Bill, reaching over to another table and shaking one of the guys there.
Shifty, you assumed, looked over and met your eyes with a kind smile. “No, no, I’m sure she's a better shot than me. Y'all give me too much credit.”
“That’s what being humble will get ya.” Bill chuckled and puffed from his cigarette. “Your spot as Easy’s best shot out from under ya.”
The table laughed, and you steeled yourself before uttering in a quiet, yet steady voice, “It was two men.”
A hush descended over the table. Liebgott turned to look at you. “What?”
“Two men. I dropped the first. The other one heard and started running. I dropped him next. Both in the head,” you relayed, without the humor of a storyteller but the gravity of a historian. You didn't know it, but you had a stony look in your eye.
Luckily, you were saved from the stunned silence by a man getting up and reciting a poem, but you could feel Liebgott’s eyes burning into you. With fear? Admiration? You weren’t sure, but you didn't dare look over.
-
Joe Liebgott was nothing if not persistent. For months now, he'd been lingering around you, flirting and striking up conversations with you. To be honest, you never outright said for him to stop (besides that one time in the very beginning when you said you weren’t interested), so you guessed he wasn't overstepping any boundaries.
Still, he seemed determined to get you into his bed.
“C’mon, I think we’d look cute together!”
“That’s what you think, Joe,” George said, squatting next to his friend, “Giving her heart eyes and all. Meanwhile, she looks at you like you're her next target.”
Brushing his teeth, Frank followed the other two’s gaze across the road, where you were happily talking with Bull and Shifty. He spat out the toothpaste residue on the ground beside him and said, counting on his fingers, “Seems like the only people she gives the time of day to are Shifty, Bull, Doc Roe, even Webster.”
“Who, if you'll notice,” George said, gesturing with a cigarette between his fingers, “are all quiet, reserved, well-mannered people. You, on the other hand, got a loud mouth and, uh, what’s it called, Frank?”
“A short fuse,” Frank supplied.
“Yeah, a short fuse. She probably thinks you’re trying to get into bed with her, in which case, you're shit outta luck.”
Frank said, shaking his head, “Scary, that girl. With her rifle and that look in her eyes.”
Liebgott exhaled. “But I’m not tryna just sleep with her! I even gave her some of my favorite comics ‘cause I knew she likes to read.”
“Yeah, real books, Joe— that's why she gets along with Webster!” Frank exclaimed. “You sure you didn't give her the pornos?”
George laughed. “That'd give her the wrong impression.”
Liebgott narrowed his eyes as you giggled at something Shifty said. “You’re right, maybe she doesn't like me.”
Standing up, George sighed and snuffed out his cigarette. “That’s not the point, Joe. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”
“Yeah, like I’m her next target? You told me already.”
“No,” George said with an exaggerated eye roll, “like she wants more outta you. ‘Cause all she's getting is the impression that you wanna fuck her.”
Liebgott stood up as well, still watching as you laughed with Bull and Shifty. George and Frank patted him on the back.
“She’s all yours, buddy,” Frank assured with a sympathetic smile. “She makes heart eyes at you too.”
-
There were only a handful of women selected to serve outside of something like a nurse’s position; you just so happened to be one of them, most likely because of your experience with a rifle. So, you’d gotten used to the lustful ways some men would watch you, or the demeaning ways they would taunt you. You guessed almost all of them had never seen a woman with a combat position in the military before (or by the way some of them acted, ever spoken to a woman at all).
But such men only assumed that you had earned your jump wings by sleeping around with officers. They assumed that they should be able to get in on it too, or that they should condemn you for something you didn't even do, for being unworthy and unskilled all because you were a woman.
It had always been a difficult pill to swallow: your military career would be littered with scathing remarks and crude comments, and you’d have to be strictly professional or closed-off with most men lest you’d be seen as a whore rather than just “scary”. But the hardest fact to accept was the fact that Liebgott, for all the kindness he had shown you, all the times he talked to you like you were a human being— that he most likely had the same intentions as everyone else.
As much as you relished his company, his crooked smile, his jokes, his lingering touches (and as much as you had to pretend you didn't), you had to accept his end goal was for you to warm his bed. And sure, maybe he was more dogged with his efforts than other men were, and maybe your friends in the company had told you that he was a genuine guy, but you just couldn't believe that he had anything else in mind when it came to you.
Maybe all the criticisms thrown your way had affected you more than you thought.
With the success of Operation Pegasus, Bull had dragged you (not literally, though you’re sure he could've) into a pub in the Netherlands for some celebratory drinking.
You didn't drink, and you disliked pubs; the smell of booze and drunken people was often overpowering, but at least you found quiet company with Bull. Across the room from your table, you saw Liebgott staring at you with a smile and a drink in his hand. It seemed as though he had noticed you the second you entered.
“It’s alright if I leave you alone for a second, little lady?” Bull said, chewing on a cigar like usual. “You'll be fine?”
“Sure, Bull. Go enjoy yourself.”
The large man smiled and patted you on the back before leaving to talk to some of the other men in the company.
Not one to mingle, you were only a few pages into your book when you caught the attention of an intoxicated soldier.
“Look who it is,” Cobb said to himself, hardly standing upright. You recognized his voice, seeing as this wasn’t the first time he’s derided you. “Ms. 1,000 Yards, huh. Bet the officers over at Dog Company only made up that story so it looks like you had some use.”
You ground your teeth. Typically, if you didn't give someone like him the satisfaction of an answer, they’d leave you alone. Why defend yourself and give people another word to call you: bitchy?
“What's a woman got to do in the military anyway?” Bottle in hand, he shambled towards you. “Besides suck the dicks of the men who are actually fighting.”
Steadying your uneven breath, you tried to look behind him to find Liebgott, but his body blocked your view.
Taking another swig, he spat, “That why they transferred you over from Dog Company? Those boys got their fill of you and passed you onto us, huh? Fuckin’ good for nothing slut.”
“What the fuck did you just say to her?” You heard Liebgott’s voice and felt relief wash over you.
Cobb turned around, and you caught a glimpse of an incensed Liebgott, a fierce glint to his eyes.
“Tell me what you just said to her.”
“Oh, please, Joe, you trying to get her to suck your cock faster—”
He was interrupted by a fist flying his way, toppling the inebriated man. Liebgott got on top of him and began trading punches before the surrounding men, drawn by the commotion, tried to pull him off of Cobb.
Your eyes were blown wide as you stood there, speechless. Bull found you and pulled you by the arm out of the pub.
“But what about Liebgott?” you said, peering behind you.
Bull shrugged and did the same. “Seems like he was winning anyway.”
That night in your billet, all you could think about was the fury that twisted Liebgott’s face into one you only saw on the battlefield.
And it was all for you.
-
The next day, you searched for Liebgott at breakfast, the table feeling a bit more empty without him taking up his normal spot beside you, but he had found you first, as he usually did.
“Hey, (Y/N), can I talk to you for a sec?” he said, his hand on your shoulder. You turned around in your seat and were met with a slightly bruised Liebgott, a small cut across his nose. Concern filling your chest, you nodded, and his hand held your wrist as he led you out of the mess hall.
“So, uh, about last night,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes searched yours for how you felt about him bringing it up, but he found no hints in your unreadable expression. “I’m sorry for fighting Cobb for you. You're a strong woman, you could handle him yourself—”
Smiling at his uncharacteristic hesitance, you cut his apology short with a peck on the cheek. You pulled away and saw his temporary surprise.
“Thank you, Joe. I appreciated you standing up for me. It means a lot.”
His face broke into the widest beam you've ever seen.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked eagerly, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could even process what they were. “Shit, sorry, that was too soon—”
You answered his question by tenderly holding his bruised face with your hands and bringing his lips to yours. You could feel him grin into the kiss as he pulled you closer, and your heart just about melted.
Maybe you had gotten Joe Liebgott all wrong from the start.
“Great, he’s never gonna wash that cheek again!”
-
taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop
318 notes · View notes
ronsenthal · 6 months
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Ron Speirs x Female!Reader
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Summary: After you helped Dick Winters and Lewis Nixon the word spread and soon enough this captain would come to your office too. 
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A/N: First of all, I would like to apologize, this is my first time writing something, I’m pretty nervous and english is not my first language, I’ll just try my best. I had this idea after listening to Blank Space (Taylor’s version) on repeat and also looking for some Speirs info and found out his ridiculously pretty handwriting???? and then I realized that he is so Taylor coded and this came to my mind.
so this one goes out to my fellow BoB lovers who are also Swifties!! Hope y’all enjoy it and if you could leave some feedback I would very much appreciate it.
If only you knew that taking typing classes would lead you to live this life from city to city, seeing horrors, tragedy and pain, feeling cold, hopeless and tired beyond anything you could imagine or explain you would have had second thoughts. But then again, every smile from your friends, every stupid joke they would tell just to lighten the mood, every cup of “coffee” you would share would make it more bearable. “Yes, it was worth it” you told yourself countless nights before falling asleep and dreaming of hope it would all end, if not soon, at some point. 
“Yes, it was worth it” you told yourself after one night that you had too many drinks with Nix, you wish you could tell the same about Dick, but he would never allow himself to do so, but he also enjoyed the night out with his friends. It was only natural that you would end up following those two, after all, with some luck you ended up being assigned to help out Dick with the mess he was making at his office duties. After some time and after figuring out how to understand the man it became really enjoyable. 
Those nights that they would tell their stories for you to organize it down in a report for your superiors were as fun as they could be, given the circumstances.
Nix wouldn’t even bother to try to write his reports once he discovered how fast you could type and how concise you would turn Dick’s endless essays into comprehensive, yet detailed reports, soon enough you were helping both of your COs, your friends.
“(Y/N) I believe you have this weird super power, are you sure you are human?” Nix said after half a bottle of Vat-69, raising his eyebrows as if he was looking at you with this invisible magnifying glass. 
Dick only shook his head in disbelief. Sometimes you thought that they looked like one of those old married couples, knowing each other's quirks and peeves and yet somehow, finding it all amusing. You wondered if you could find someone like this in this God forsaken world you were living. 
One day you found it, but thinking back it wasn't easy at first and as it took some time to even lower your guard on your own brain, and allow yourself to think about it, about HIM. 
Ronald Speirs had quite a reputation, everybody knew the rumors, every man saw the things he so recklessly did on the field. His men were as afraid as the enemy, so it took you by surprise when after Foy he also started to hang out with you, Dick and Nix. The first time there was silence on the table after he arrived, you didn’t even had the chance to introduce yourself politely as Dick started out his endless questions about how the Easy men were doing, and then Nix introduced some drinks, yet you two never exchanged one word to each other before that day.
After a while his presence started to make you feel a little bit comfortable, especially after Dick assured you that he was a good man, a good leader and being a big brother figure, he wouldn’t let Speirs offer you a cigarette. Since then you could catch a glimpse at how his eyes shone even in the dark, how he looked tired after an operation. He wasn’t scary anymore, he was just another officer that from time to time would hang out with your friends.
After some time you started to get used to his presence around chasing Dick and Nix up and down, something you did yourself as they were like big brothers to you, protecting, giving their piece of advice and taking care of you. Soon enough you started to feel more comfortable around Speirs too, once you even called him Ronald after a couple of drinks.
Then one afternoon it took you by surprise when he knocked at your office, looking tired as hell with a pile of files on one hand, a pair of boots in the other one and a half burnt cigarette hanging on his lips.
“Sorry to disturb you (Y/L/N), but Nixon said you could help me out with this paperwork? I’ll be in real trouble if I don’t turn them in this evening. Also, he said you could use this one” Speirs told you while putting a tiny pair of combat boots on your desk and taking of his cap, not even giving you time to reply, not even looking at you.
“What in the name of god are you thinking? What the hell is Lewis thinking? You guys think I don’t have anything better to do, I have enough work to do, just look at this endless pile of work, so no, thank you, good luck” you said throwing your arms in exasperation, complaining and pointing out the huge paper files on your desk.
He stared at you in horror as if you were one of those german panzers, he opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the words but he couldn’t. You felt a twist in your stomach, looking at him you could see he was embarrassed, you never saw him so vulnerable and tired, this man could use some proper sleep. As he was turning on his heels to leave while muttering sorry a thousand times, guilt took the best of you.
“Wait” you said, closing your eyes knowing right after the word left your mouth how stupid it would be, after all you could use some sleep too, you deserved it. He slowly turned to face you.
“I’ll do it, but you better help me out and you are not allowed to smoke while we do that, I hate the smell”
You could swear you saw an amused smile on his face when he threw his last pack of Luckys on your desk. Soon enough you prepared your typewriter checking if you had enough ribbon and paper for your work, finally you sat down and stared at the man in front of you, it took him a few seconds to realize you were ready to start. 
At some point he took his jacket off and slowly put it on the chair he was sitting on, took of his tie and rolled up his sleeves, you tried not to stare at the man in front of you. If he caught you looking up and down he never said a word. It was not the first time you stared at this much feared man, truth be told you caught yourself staring at him more than once. Nix being the observant little bitch he was had this creepy little smile when he caught you one night looking at the Easy captain. You muttered something like “I’m gonna kill you” and prayed to god that he could send the biggest crate of whisky he could find so Lewis would get so drunk he would forget it.
You cleaned your throat, took a deep breath and asked for a small pause to take a glass of water. The man nodded and took a few steps to the little window and watched the landscape outside until you said you were finally ready again. “Back to work” you said to yourself.
….. 
When you two finished the sun was no longer up, just in time for him to turn on the report. While working on he would tap his fingers on your desk and look nervously at the watch on his wrist, but he never complained or tried to hurry you up. He quickly looked at the papers you cautiously handed him and shook his head, approving the final result.
“So that’s it?” he asked you, his voice soft and quiet.
“Yes that’s it, just write your name over here and we’re done” you said pointing at the blank space you left over his name at the end of the paper. 
He asked if you could borrow a pen for him to use and said a few “thanks” while signing the paper before leaving your office and storming out in the direction of the HQ, he never returned your pen but you didn’t even mind.
Then after composing yourself by stretching your back and taking a sip of your already cold coffee you decided to head down to the closest pub you could find, but firstly you changed your boots. Nix was right as you could use some new ones, but since you were so small compared to the rest of the guys it was nearly impossible to find some fitting boots, yet Speirs somehow got his hand in a pair just of the right size.
When you finally arrived at the bar your eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the lighting of the room, you then scanned the tables looking for Nix and Dick. When you recognized the friendly faces you started to move towards them, but then you felt a tap on your shoulders and turned to see who it was. 
“Hey excuse me Y/L/N, Captain Speirs asked me to hand you this” It was Lieutenant Lipton holding an envelope in his hand, like it was a classified piece of information that could change the war. This man took his duties very seriously, you thought to yourself as you took the envelope and put it in your pocket.
“Thank you Lieutenant” you said smiling at the officer in front of you, who smiled back and took his leave joining his men at the other table. 
You then walked to the barman and asked for a beer, when you were reaching into your pocket to find some money to pay the man he shook his head and his hands as if trying to say no, he paused a few seconds trying to remember the words in your language and explained the best way he could that someone had taken care of it, offered you some food, the most glorious, golden fried potatoes you’ve ever saw in your life.
As you walked down to the table holding your plate the Easy men stared at you as if you were a goddess walking on water or something, then started to shout at the barman asking for the same food. Dick and Nix exchanged a funny look between each other and Nix tried to take some of your fries before you slapped his hand. 
When you tried the first one you closed your eyes, it hit you like a full speed train crashing into a wall, so many emotions one after another, after months of terrible stinky food there was this little piece of heaven. You took a big gulp of the beer in front of you, and then someone put another pint in front of you, and then another one, and another one. You could swear it was the best feeling in quite some time, the men shouting and laughing all around you telling tales and jokes about Toccoa Camp, Sobel or Dike or some officer they hated, Nixon pestering Dick about something, all the stuff, all at once you almost forgot the place you were, what you were fighting for. 
Forgot….. 
Then you remembered the note that Speirs left you and you suddenly felt a rush that almost made you fall off your chair. You don’t know if it was the fourth (or fifth?) beer you had but you felt your hands trembling as you opened the envelope. Inside there was this carefully folded paper, you stared at it for some time before gathering the courage to open it, just to find this beautiful handwriting, you didn’t expect to come from the toughest son of a bitch in the entire army. 
“Dearest (Y/N),
Thank you so much for your help today. I will never forget it and I will find a way to repay you somehow. One night you said that as a kid you used to eat french fries when you were feeling down, so I took the liberty to ask Matthijs the barman to do something special for you. 
I hope it brings you a piece of home! Enjoy whatever you want, he is going to put on my account and don’t even try to argue with him or me about it”
Sincerely yours.
Capt. Ronald Speirs.
“P.S: I have some more paperwork due to the next week, I hope you don’t mind”
You smiled to yourself as you read it again and again, every time your heart would jump when you stopped at the YOU, your name written, your brain froze right there as if it could take a picture just by staring. You didn’t mind that he would eventually bring more work, because somehow he managed to do so, he brought you home. 
You were tired, drunk and your head was spinning a little but if someone ever asked you then yes: it was worth it.
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