#Lewis Nixon headcanons

[luminouslywriting]

Falling asleep on the Bob guys

Nonny, this is such a darling request! Sorry it's taken me so long to get to it :) I hope you really enjoy and are having a great day! Reminder that my requests are open and I love the spam!

Cut for length, paragraph format below:

Dick Winters:

Dick Winters is the type of man to be caught off guard in the softest of ways. He's not expecting you to fall asleep on him and he's still trying to talk over plans when he realizes that you're totally and completely out. It's at this point that he gets this really soft expression on his face and just decides to treasure the moment since you never know what will happen. He stays awake and keeps a wary eye out for any sort of danger that might befall the two of you. And he might murmur a few sweet nothings to you while you're asleep since there's no harm and foul for that.

Lewis Nixon:

Honestly, he's rambling and rambling and is waiting for you to reply to anything that he's said and mid-ramble, he looks down to find you asleep. Kinda makes this amused expression on his face and then presses a short and sweet kiss to your forehead. He's perfectly content as a kitten, curling up and falling asleep next to you. Especially if you're the one who fell asleep first—he's not about to move you or wake you up haha.

Ronald Speirs:

Realizes you're falling asleep very quickly and just goes kinda quiet. He doesn't have the heart to move you or wake you up so he can move, so he just sits there with your head on his shoulder and finally has a minute to just be calm and relax in peace. It's honestly a cathartic experience for him and he gets to reflect on your relationship, which endears the situation even more to him.

Buck Compton:

Gets this really goofy smile on his face at the fact that you're asleep on his shoulder. He absolutely adores seeing you this peaceful and will press a kiss to the crown of your head and snuggle in real close to you. He's the type to probably fall asleep with you, even more cuddled up and practically spooning at that point.

Carwood Lipton:

A softie who softly tells you a story until you are solidly asleep on his shoulder. And then he's slightly blushy and shy about the entire thing, but he's not about to move—he's no idiot. So he just wraps an arm around you and murmurs a soft goodnight. He'll treasure this memory for the rest of his life and wants to wake up next to you every single day henceforth.

Joe Liebgott:

Literally the sassiest mf—the minute that you fall asleep, he's out here glaring at anyone who walks by a little bit too loudly or is talking too much. He'll shush and tell someone to get the hell away from the situation bc no one is about to interrupt your beauty sleep. Not on his watch. He's also slightly smug and definitely thinking about sex in the future and how your married life would be.

Donald Malarkey:

10/10 a great person to fall asleep on. He's a solid choice, if only for the fact that he's ultra respectful and kind about things. He'll sit there patiently and untangle your hair while you're asleep and just relax. It's honestly just as calming getting to be around you while you're asleep and it becomes a tradition between the two of you.

Eugene Roe:

You cannot convince me that he isn't the best choice here. He gets super soft and almost emotional about the fact that you trust him enough to fall asleep near him and on him. He'll murmur lullabies in a half-whisper in French and stroke your hair and rub your back soothingly until you're totally asleep. He absolutely loves you and that'll be the last thing you hear before you're totally out for the count.

Bill Guarnere:

Doesn't realize you've fallen asleep until he turns to hear your reply or comments from a story he's been telling and then realizes that you're totally out. He gets this kinda goofy grin and just snuggles up real close to you. He's very honored that you feel safe enough to fall asleep in his presence—and he's not about to lose that trust for literally anything. You mean the world to him.

Joe Toye:

Slightly panicked?! Which doesn't really make sense, but you're literally asleep and he's just not about to let anyone interrupt that. He'll glare and make menacing motions to anyone who's too loud and he just wants to cuddle up next to you without anyone giving him shit. Not that anyone would—but you know, he's got some worries. Either way, he's real gentle about the entire thing.

George Luz:

Probably happens in a foxhole amidst some jokes and laughs to keep spirits up. And when you don't respond, he gets a little worried and then glances over to find out that you're just asleep on his shoulder. Gets this shit-eating grin on his face and he's definitely gonna tease you about it later (but not in front of anyone else). He's secretly very pleased that you fell asleep on him since he's got a big crush on you anyway haha.

[speirslore]

band of brothers flirting styles + reaction to you flirting back

(this includes winters, nixon, speirs, lipton, roe, bull, and liebgott! but if your fav isn't here, feel free to send an ask and i'll add them!)

lmk if you would like to be on my taglist: @ronsparky @bcon24 @blueberry-ovaries @1waveshortofashipwreck @beautifulbluejay

[dick winters]

dick feels kind of useless when trying to flirt

a lot of it is nix having very middle school vibes of 'hey, my friend over there thinks you're gorgeous btw'

it's very endearing

you waltz over to where dick is and his ears are already red before you even get to the table

he'll apologize abt lew instantly and you frown like, "oh, was it a joke?"

dick immediately is like "no, no, he- i meant it"

his nervous rambling is sooo cute to you, you can only smile and say, "i'm glad and by the way, i think you're pretty gorgeous too."

if his face can go any redder, it definitely does then

when you start talking, he's slowly getting less flushed and more comfortable

but he's an overthinker so he still isn't totally convinced that you're flirting

has to have lew pull him aside, shake him a little bit, and be like, yes they are absolutely into you, yes that is flirting

i do think dick can get super flirty once he's more comfortable, like once you're dating and it's just the two of you, he's so charming and sweet

but the first time you meet, he's just so shy but still very sincere with his compliments

dick is great about making eye contact because he just thinks your eyes are so beautiful

the night ends with his hand on the small of your back

and tbh the spiciest it will get after you first meet is a kiss to his cheek when he's leaving with a napkin with your number written on it

and nix is just watching like a proud father <3

[lewis nixon]

if there's one thing lewis nixon is, he is charming

he's very used to disarming others with said charm

he is such a gentleman... he was painstakingly subjected to a lot of manners and etiquette classes as a child/teenager

and lew now puts it to good use!

he's so good at flirting with his own brand of nihilistic, high society charm

so when you flirt back and respond... he's sooo excited like this is so fun for him

lew is very used to people being completely disarmed by him

but you're not... you grinned when he walked over to where you and your friends were talking and asked you to dance, and pressed a kiss to his cheek when you said yes

he does blush faintly, which is a huge deal for lew because that never really happens

once you're dancing, oh he's a menace

he's having SO much fun, hand on your waist maybeee moving lower

he thinks you’re so funny and lew’s grin and laugh... so top tier

it's so nice when it's genuine, and even though you just met him you want to hear it again and again

he can't stop smiling like it's soooo obvious, lew makes absolutely no effort to hide how attracted to you his is

does not try to play it cool at all like he wants you sooo bad

has absolutely no shame

and it does not take long before you're making out outside the pub, already feeling familiar and warm in his arms

[ron speirs]

ron honestly feels a little silly trying to flirt

it's very hard for him to get out of his own head about it

the most intense eye contact ever?

eye contact is ron's version of flirting

'like why don't they understand i want them in every possible way... i'm looking at them??'

ron really just does not understand, he's pulling out all the stops with his slightly unnerving eye contact

and also just talking, like if he's willingly having a longer than 5 minute conversation with you and actually talking about himself? ron is actually professing his undying love

a lot of just blunt complimenting too, i mean sweet compliments but just out of nowhere, like "you have beautiful eyes, you know."

when you flirt back, touch his arm, and look up at him, he's definitely melting inside

especially if you're normally more shy or reserved... oh he's hooked

he doesn't outwardly show it... at least not obviously... but you can tell from his eyes, the way they intensify, darken, widen, and focus on you

ron does love praise

"you know lieutenant, ron, you do have gorgeous eyes, too."

"and i love your hair, the sweetest curls"

oh he's yours entirely... please give him all the words of affirmation

it gets pretty obvious when he's really responding to your flirting, staring at your lips and biting his lip, moving closer to you

has this smirk that just subconsciously appears

like lew, escalates very quickly

ron is a very physical person and that's when he can really show his attraction ;)

[eugene roe]

eugene is not confident in his flirting at all

he's very very subtle

and he honestly does better talking to someone he's attracted to by just striking up normal conversation and learning about them and not approaching it as trying to flirt

his voice goes lower and raspier if that's even possible

especially if you're in a bar, with a lot of music and voices loud, he just instinctually leans closer to your ear, face so so close

then immediately realizes he's super close to you now and tries not to freak out

gene has to get out of his own head first and when he does that, he can be so charming

he just unintentionally has that sexy suave energy

especially when he drops certain pet names in french

you flirting back is a hugeeee relief for him

and repeating said french? like yes it’s cheesy and cliche but it sounds so nice coming from your lips!

he can't hide his smile at all like, laughing into the sip of his drink

"i'm impressed," he'll murmur

"you should be, i'm pulling out all the stops for you, eugene."

oh he blushes so badly

he lovessss hearing you say his name, he's so used to only being 'doc' or 'roe', it's so nice to actually hear his name, especially coming from you <3

[bull randleman]

oh he's so sweet!

that southern drawl... yeah it's super charming

and the cigar... sorry it's super sexy

i think he would be surprised, pleasantly surprised

and then would immediately proceed to get super shy though

he feels like he's got a good head on him, resourceful, smart, etc

but it all goes out the window when you're flirting with him!

yes he def blushes

also very observant to how you're reacting

i think he would be really into kisses but would be scared to initiate anything

especially the first time meeting you

would love to dance

is he that great... no... does he feel like his hands are way too sweaty... yes... does he step on your foot a few times... maybe

but it's very endearing!

very southern gentleman of course

like he is definitely holding the door open for you, standing up when you walk into the room, etc

[joe liebgott]

joe is incredibly charming

and very honest

like he lays it on pretty thick

there's never any questioning of 'is he actually into me? or is he just talking to me?'... he leaves absolutely no room for overthinking

like you definitely know... there is never a doubt

and when you flirt back he gets the biggest, cocky grin

joe gets into it extremely quickly, will definitely immediately match your energy (and then some)

"doll, angel, pretty, cutie.." he's pulling out all the stops

loves teasing and going back and forth with you

criminal "yeah?" usage by him

the BEST at keeping eye contact, props up head with his hand just watching you talk

skinny, tipper, smokey, tab, etc are all definitely watching from a few tables away, intrigued and impressed, and very obviously

you notice and grin, "wanna give them a show?"

joe would never say no to that! so you just lean forward and kiss him, hand pulling his chin gently closer

and this man is already feral... the noises??? he has range and he's a little freaky, a little spurred on by a crowd, by his friends watching, shaking their heads, caught up into the moment

but ofc when you pull away, oh now he's shy... like he's so red

but make no mistake joe is definitely into it... very very into you

[carwood lipton]

lip feels so weird trying to flirt tbh

very much like, is this allowed?

not as like... alien as ron, more similar to dick in he's just a little, a lot, self conscious

but he's also so naturally personable and kind

and he attracts so many people naturally because of that

including you

talking in a group with a bunch of other soldiers with your friends, you're immediately drawn to him

you smiling at him definitely makes him feel more at ease

you definitely do have to encourage him to relax because he has a littleee trouble holding eye contact, looking down a lot

and then suddenly there’s another man staring at you, approaching you, and standing a little too close

and even though you don't know carwood, you're still looking at him silently for help

and ofc he's very observant of people and situations

so his hand snakes around the small of your back

and lip is naturally protective and careful, guiding you through the crowd

"my prince charming," you say and he of course blushes, muttering a small “maybe.”

"i hope so," you grin and lip can't help but smile too

[don malarkey]

does don really have a flirting style… no

he just tries his best

can hold conversation and compliment you and hope for the best

but it’s very endearing to you

don is SO easily flustered… him even approaching you at talk was huge

big difference him with his friends, he definitely talks a big talk

and babe and bill and joe get sick of listening to him talk about wanting to approach you

bill threatens to go up to you himself. he will snitch on don

but when he actually finally works up the courage to go over to you, all that bravo immediately vanished

don used up all his confidence just getting himself to approach you and he didn't really plan for anything after

struggles at first to make eye contact

goes very red, especially in his neck and ears

but it gets better! and he hypes himself up in his head because you're entertaining him, talking back and smiling at his nervousness

a lot nervous laughter

his reaction to you flirting? first, it's thank god, and the excitement takes over and he's so in his head that he forgets to respond

but gets more comfortable throughout the night, arm resting across your shoulder, cheeks warm (feeling the alcohol) but very content

[bellewintersroe]

Easy Boys x Reader - Smut

Smutty smut - how the sex goes down after months of not being able to touch one another, 18+ content below the cut - like pure filth so be warned.

Babe Heffron:

“Babe.” You’d be grinding on top of him, the two of you attempting to keep quiet as you move your hips back and forth on top of him. You’d be red in the cheeks, the warmest you’d felt in months, completely naked in the small bedroom you’d escaped to in Haguenau. Babe would swallow harshly, hands digging into your hips as he focuses on not cumming so quickly but he’s so captivated by the way your body moves against his, the way your face is confronted in pleasure and the way your tits would bounce with every movement.

Your back would be arched and you’re feeling like you’re ready to hit your peak until somebody bangs harshly on the door. “What the hell are you two doing in there?!”

Babe would shoot up, pulling your body below his protectively, with a harsh shout of, “nothin’! Go away!” At first he’d be a little disgruntled that your first love making session after months would be interrupted. “You’re doin’ nothin’?!” One of the other men would call out, not sounding so sure and you’d make eye contact and begin giggling before shushing each other.

“Yeah, nothin’! Just fuck off!” He called out again before looking down to you and kissing you deeply. “Just make sure you wrap it, Babe!”

Ron Speirs:

Dirty, dirty, pent up tension sex in his office after waiting for so fucking long. He’d have you bent over his table, your hands gripping onto anything they could find as he’d hold you by the hips and thighs, pulling your body into his with every single thrust of his hips.

It would be the kind of sex where you can’t walk properly for days after, like it’s sinful but you have to say quiet. Ron has his tie wrapped around your mouth, gagging you as he mutters praises every now and then.

“Missed you so much, sweetheart.”

“You’re even tighter than I remember.”

“God, I love this pussy.”

Ron is such a dom, and the two of you would get soooo carried away with how rough and lustful the sex gets. When you’re laid back over his desk and he’s on top of you he doesn’t give two shits about swiping everything onto the floor. After, when both of you are dishevelled and relieved it takes a whole long time to tidy up the mess you both make.

Joe Liebgott:

The two of you are friends until things bubble over during the party in Eindhoven. One minute you’re talking about how the neither has got any for months and then next thing you know you’re making out as needy and desperate as anything. The underlying sexual tension finally bubbles over and Joe is groping at your titties as you lay back on the table in some random house and he fucks you stood up.

The two of you don’t really speak, but considering how loud the festivities and party goers are outside you can be as loud as you want resulting in some pretty noisy, energetic sex. I wouldn’t necessarily call it rough, but it’s quick, his thrusts are erratic and you’re bouncing like crazy on top of him. Joe’s super cautious however, like he’d deffo check several times that you’re sure, especially as you’re friends- you’d deffo forget to use a condom and after the sex it sure does make for some awkward meetings later on.

Gene Roe:

Listen, cos you’re a nurse and he’s a medic you probs get the opportunity to be together alot more than you would in any other position. But just because you’re together doesn’t mean you’re alone, you’ve both tried for months to get some time alone, behind the closed curtains in the aid station, outside behind a bombed out building- hell you’d even sought each other out in a foxhole sometimes.

But nothing went past making out and touching over the clothes, that was until now. You’d finally got back to England and the house he was billeted in was empty for the night meaning you two were left to it on a rickety single bed. Did either of you care? No. The two of you would spend hours exploring one another’s body’s again, kissing, biting, sucking. Gene would have his head between for legs for hours if he could, and when he’d on top, fucking into you he’s already warning you he can’t last for long. Poor Gene would probs finish so fast but he’d go for another round, huffing and puffing past how sensitive his cock was because he knows it makes you feel so good.

Joe Toye:

“Fucking finally.” He’d mutter as soon as he was inside of you. His hips would move slowly, exhaling as he throws his sling onto the aid station cot behind him. “Joe.” You’d warn quietly. It’s super late in the aid station, Joe’s messed his arm up and the only perk of being at the aid station is that he gets to see you. After a heated exchange you find an empty space and the two of you give into your temptations.

It’s slow and sensual, you both have to be extra fucking quiet but Joe’s kissing up and down your spine when he takes you from behind, muffling your breaths with his hand and spilling his cum all over your ass, feeling like he could bust all over again at the sight of his seed dripping over your sweet pussy.

“Just 10 more minutes, huh, sugar?”

Lewis Nixon:

After you both go through breakups towards the end of the war, neither of you have had sex for a good year. The two of you would be drunk and comforting one another and one thing leads to another and soon you’re writhing beneath him, moaning out ‘sir’ as he’s bucking into you. Ugh and it’s so good, so lustful and dirty, you both have so much pent up emotion that’s released during the sex and afterwards the two of you kinda look each other like, ‘holy fuck that was good, did we actually just do that?’

Lewis deffo shares a cigarette with you after.

Floyd Talbert:

“C’mere, doll.” He’d hush pulling you into some kind of shed, close enough to where everybody in the company were. He had you picked up, holding your thighs and ass up whilst he fucked you as quietly as possible. Neither of you cared about the impractical location, you were alone and Floyd was inside you. The two of you probably wouldn’t bother with a condom which ummm leads to a worrying few weeks after but it’s all chill.

Floyd would have you in every kinda position, on the floor, up against the wooden wall- only when the whole shed was shaking did he have to lay you down using his blazer as a barrier between you and the floor. Floyd would be all over you, squeezing, grabbing, kissing, even though it’s probably just a quickly he’d throw in a million different things, including foreplay just to touch all the bases.

[hottpinkpenguin]

Easy Company HC's: Letters Home

A/n: I'm really rolling with these BofB headcanons! hope you enjoy :)

Characters included: Dick Winters, Lewis Nixon, Ronald Speirs, Carwood Lipton, Buck Compton, David Webster, Joe Liebgott

Dick Winters

Writes frequent, short letters

Meticulously dates his letters and includes a blurb about the weather. January 12th, 1945. It’s snowing outside, dark and cold. 

Starts each letter with My dear y/n 

Always asks how you are, even though he’s the one fighting a damn war

Follows up on every little question or story you include in your letters. How was the bake sale? Did you ever hear how Louise Graham’s brother is doing after taking that shrapnel to the shoulder? Hope you were able to get someone out to look at the washing machine.

Ends his letters with classic but sentimental sign-offs, like Affectionately yours and All my love

Makes sure not to include anything in his letters that would worry you. Doesn’t necessarily lie or fake being happy, but just gently side steps that. 

Although every once in a while you get a longer letter where Dick’s handwriting is a little messier. You know it’s from writing fast, you can almost feel the pressure behind the penmarks. He opens up more in those letters, talks about losing too many good men and sometimes will say things that just absolutely break your heart, like sometimes I wonder how all of this is really going to end for the men who are over here fighting. 

Even in these letters, Dick never says “I” or “Me”, always writes about the men and the boys. You know - and so does he - that he’s including himself in those boys.

His next letter he always makes sure to reassure you. And it’s genuine, you can tell. He’ll say something like I have to put some of these heavier thoughts somewhere, and there’s nowhere I trust more than with you. 

When he comes home, you find a stack of letters you wrote to him tied up in a neat bundle and stashed in an inside pocket of his Ike jacket that he sewed in especially for that purpose. You could tell by the flimsy, near-ripped creases and dirty paper that he’d read each one about a hundred times over. Buried in the middle of the stack was the picture you’d given him before he’d left for training. On the back, he’d written simply your name, the date the photo was taken, and a short instruction: in event of my death, please send all personal effects to with your home address. It made you sob but you never told him you found it.

GIF by mads-weasley

Lewis Nixon

Rarely writes. Actually drives you crazy with worry most of the time.

When he finally does, you can tell that he’s initially annoyed at having to put his thoughts down on paper. Letters start off with short, sarcastic sentences like nothing new here. Still fighting the war, in case you hadn’t heard. Enjoying German hospitality. 

But as the letters go on he relaxes into it and stops being so grouchy. 

Because he’s always grumpy at having to write (you should probably thank Dick for cajoling Lew into actually sitting down to write to you), he usually doesn’t write any sort of introduction or sweet address, just dives right into it.

His letters usually don’t say much, he just kind of rambles about how much he hates being away from you and how he can’t wait for the whole damn thing to be over. 

Sometimes he’ll write something so incredibly romantic it takes your breath away, like I’d fight a whole division of Panzers myself if I could just get one more sniff of your perfume. 

Those are the letters you save and reread to yourself over and over again when you’re waiting weeks for the next one.

Always signs off with something kind of sassy but also sweet?, like You know I love you or Keep our bed warm for me. 

Sometimes you feel like you can smell whiskey on the paper, which both worries you but also reminds you of Lew

When he finally gets home and you ask him about what he did with your letters, he kind of looks at you like you’ve gone crazy and says I read them of course, what else was I supposed to do with them? 

This hurts your feelings at first which of course he doesn’t understand, but after a few weeks you start to realize that he actually did read them and not only that he memorized their contents. Like he refers to your mother as “the Wicked Witch of Wichita” (something you called here after you wrote him a long rambling letter about how angry she made you at your sister’s bridal shower) and buys you a bouquet of daffodils because you wrote him a letter with a daffodil doodle in the margins of the page talking about the spring gardens. 

You realize that Lew shows his love in the little details, and it makes you appreciate him all the more.

GIF by beautifulguycollector

Ronald Speirs

Ron’s letters read like military bulletins. 

Doing well despite the cold. 1st sgt sick with pneumonia. Think of you often.

Writes predictably once per week. Never misses a letter. Ever. 

You always write him long, lengthy, romantic letters. Sometimes even a little raunchy, if you’ve had some wine. After one particularly *ahem* suggestive letter, you feel ridiculous and say so the next time you write.

In typical Ron fashion, you get a short, to-the-point reply, but it still puts a smile on your face and a blush on your cheeks: Loved your letter. Keep writing. 

Towards the end of the war, Ron starts a countdown to when he expects to be coming home. Two months now, maybe less. Home for the Fourth of July. 

Also signs off with R.S. Which makes you laugh, as if you could forget who was writing to you.

Whenever your girlfriends find a letter from Ron (you keep them all in a shoebox in your closet), they tease you and ask how you can possibly be in love with someone so stiff and formal. To which you can only chuckle to yourself, because you know it’s just that they don’t understand that Ron doesn’t tell you he loves you, he shows you. Writing a letter every single week. Updating you on everything going on, even short updates, because he wants you to know how he’s doing. That’s Ronald Speirs’ love language.

Maybe three weeks before Ron comes home, you start getting boxes of (stolen?) German silver at your door. At first it freaks you out and makes you feel slimy for having lavish riches from an enemy country, so you don’t unpack the boxes and you just stack them up in the back bedroom. When Ron gets home and sees the boxes unopened and shut away, he immediately asks you what’s wrong. You stammer out an explanation and without blinking an eye, Ron loads them into his truck and takes them to the dump. 

(Later you convince him that a better use of those would be to donate them to the local orphanage, so off he goes in his truck to get the boxes back out of the dump and bring them to shelter.)

One night when you’re lying awake, head on Ron’s chest, talking idly about things that don’t matter, he interrupts you to ask Can you guess which letter I kept? 

You instantly blush, thinking of that risque letter you wrote him when you were halfway through your second bottle of white wine. He shakes his head and pulls a letter out of his nightstand and hands it to you. You don’t recognize it immediately, although you do see that it’s too short to be one of the naughtier correspondences. 

It’s too dark to read, so you ask him which letter. He says it’s the one you wrote to me for my birthday. 

You don’t remember that one and you tell him as much, so you ask him why he kept that one instead of some of the others. He looks down at you with a serious look in his eyes, a little surprised that you can’t figure it out. Then he tells you: it’s the first time you wrote that you loved me. 

The next day, you sneak a peek at the letter and realize he’s right. You signed it, I love you Ron. 

From then on, you make sure to tell him that every night before he falls asleep.

Carwood Lipton

Formal, sweet letters. This man is a king of romancing by words.

Writes as often as he can, but you know that Lip needs peace and quiet for an entire evening to get one of those letters done (he probably definitely writes a draft or two before he gets it right). And let’s face it, Easy Company doesn’t have the luxury of many quiet evenings. 

Always, always, always starts his letters off with Dear (future) Mrs. Lipton, which you honestly think is hopelessly corny but it’s way too adorable to tell him so. And besides, you secretly love it.

He always reminisces about home in his letters. Tells you how much he misses the smell of your baking, the squeak of the front porch swing that you two would sit on and watch the sunset. 

He worries a lot about you and his family. He always asks you to look in on his mother if it’s not too much trouble. 

Lip doesn’t talk much about the war, in fact he hardly acknowledges it at all. And he never uses the term ‘war’ or ‘battle’. Instead, he says things like The boys over here are still committed to doing the job or Easy presses on.  

Lip’s letters get a little shorter and less soft after Bastogne. He starts including the names of the casualties in his company in the P.S. Even though you don’t know these men except by name - and some of them, not even that - you feel honored that he trusts you with their memories. 

Lip has saved your letters and all the pictures you sent to him - he loves pictures, and asks for an updated one of you almost every month - tucked in his foot locker and safely between the pages of his Bible so they don’t get creased or dirty. 

You also find that he’s kept stacks of letters from some of his men that died in the field. When you ask him what he plans to do with the letters, he gets a heartbreaking, far-off look in his eyes and says I reckon I’ll try to get them back to their families. 

You take on the burden of doing that, and you write to some of the families introducing yourself and introducing Lip and offering to forward them the letters.

All the replies you get back mention that their soldier talked about how good a leader and friend Lip was. Their replies bring tears to your eyes. For some reason, you don’t show the letters to Lip, although you do tell him about them. He never asks to read the letters, he just kisses you on your forehead and tells you that he’s never loved you more. 

Even after he’s home, he’ll still write you a letter from time to time, usually at Christmastime or for your birthday in the summer. His letters are always talking about his favorite memories with you, and there’s always a paragraph at the end where he talks about how in love with you he is. It’s borderline poetry and it makes you cry every single time.

GIF by balladofthe101st

Buck Compton

Basically just writes a list of questions for you to answer in every letter.

Wants to know everything about what’s going on at home. Especially sports teams.

Doesn’t write frequently, so sometimes it’s hard to feel like there’s a conversation happening. 

But he always includes sweet little notes about how much he’s thinking of you and how he’s counting down the days until he can hold you again, so you’re not complaining. 

Not the most poetic writer. Always says what he thinks and feels though. Completely honest and open. 

Does not tell you anything about the war. Basically ignores the entire thing. 

Sometimes you think about asking him about that, but you figure that he’s not talking about it for a reason, so you follow suit.

Calls you baby in his letters. 

Doesn’t actually say ‘I love you’ in his letters, although says everything else. Miss you baby. Dream about you all the time. When I get home, I’m putting a ring on your finger. 

One time he writes that he woke up last night out of a dream and swore I could taste you and it makes your toes curl.

You save that letter, tuck it in your underwear drawer. 

Signs his letters very simply: Buck. Sometimes he’ll put something in like until next time or I’ll write soon. But usually nothing super romantic or sentimental.

Doesn’t save your letters, but that really doesn’t bother you too much because all you wrote in them was basically just rambling details that Buck requested about your boring day-to-day. 

Buck’s always better in person than in writing - he’s a quality time and physical touch kind of guy - but you know that your letters were his only lifeline to normal during the war, and you’re just happy to have him back at all. 

He does surprise you one night when it’s really quiet in the house and you’re sitting on the couch together, each reading a book. He suddenly turns to you and says You know baby girl, your letters saved my sanity over there. It’s the most he’s really ever said about the war, but it’s enough, and you kiss him so he knows that you get it.  

GIF by balladofthe101st

David Webster

Unsurprisingly, Web is probably the best letter writer in all of Easy Company. 

He helps a lot of the other guys write letters home, especially if they’re trying to say something important. Web just has a knack for words unlike any other. 

He writes a lot of letters home, not just to you, but to the rest of his family, his siblings, some of his friends, and definitely his professors. 

So because you’re close with Web’s family, you do get to read a lot of his writing. 

His letters to you are different though. They’re darker and a little less polished. Sometimes, they frighten you a little bit. Web talks about things you’re not you really understand - like how pointless death is, how empty it makes him feel to see his friends get KIA, how he carries around guilt about surviving this long like an anchor. 

Refers to you exclusively in his letters by your first name, his writing is always serious and somber and drenched with heavy emotions, so pet names just really don’t fit the vibe.

He quotes poetry and literature quite a bit when he writes. It all feels a bit Gothic, but you’ve always known that Web has found clarity in the world through books, so you don’t begrudge him a little poetic license.

Signs his letters Yours in perpetuity, David K. Webster. 

Asks you to send books. Sometimes he asks for something specific, but other times he’s happy to get whatever you pick out for him. Your tastes are different from his; you prefer to choose shorter, gentle pieces about life in the British countryside or Western adventure novels. Web would prefer Wadsworth or Hemingway, but he figures it’s probably in his best interests to read things that don’t tackle dark themes. You always tuck a letter for him into the first few pages. 

He doesn’t save your letters, per se, although he does save every single book you send to him. When he gets home, he puts them all up on the bookshelf in his office. Even though they’re beat up and stained and not at all fitting with the rest of his collection, they’re front and center. 

Sometimes he takes a stab at sketching in his letters. He’s not bad, either. You try to encourage him to take lessons when he gets home, which he never does. He secretly loves how much you love his drawings though.

GIF by yourspeirs

Joe Liebgott

KING OF DIRTY LETTERS

You definitely like to re-read his letters… again and again…

Not every letter is a dirty one. But most are. Or at least have a dirty section in them. 

You don’t know how this man makes you feel wanted from halfway around the world, but somehow he does. Lord knows you love a lot about your Joey, but you didn’t realize how good he was with words until you found yourself practically stalking the mailman, hoping for another delivery from Joe.

Uses a lot of pet names in his letters. Baby girl, Doll, Princess are some of his favorites. Literally never calls you by your name.

Always signs off with Your Joey. 

Even when Joe is clearly in a dark place, his letters are saturated with how much he needs you and how he can’t stop thinking about all the ways he’s going to have you when he gets home. 

When your mother finds one of Joey’s letters to you, she throws an absolute shit fit and freaks out that you’re sleeping with someone before you’re married. It takes a long time for you to convince her that you haven’t slept with Joey yet, you’re just… really into dirty talking.

She kinda chills after that but still looks at you suspiciously every time you get a letter from him.

She never tells your dad though, which makes you think maybe she’s more supportive of your relationship with him than you realized.

After working up the courage, you write Joe a letter that is so sinful you actually doubt whether you should send it in the mail, it just feels so wrong.

When I say this man goes crazy for that letter, it is an understatement. He is out of his mind and immediately writes you a reply telling you so. Basically begs you for more.

Even though your letters back and forth with Joe are pretty raunchy, there’s also a sweetness to them. He’s always sure to mention that This ain’t just all talk, Doll. When you’re Mrs. Liebgott, you’re gonna see exactly what I’ve been writing about. Which you know is still pretty dirty, but hey, he’s basically proposing to you, right?

You are not the least bit surprised to know that he kept your naughtiest letters when he finally gets home.

But, Joseph Liebgott is a man of his word, and even though he is clearly dying to and you’re practically begging him to, he doesn’t make good on all those dirty promises until after you’re wearing his ring.

Much to your delight, you find that he is just as good with actions as he is with words.

[ithinkabouttzu]

Hey Mac! I was wondering for an ask if you could do where the BoB men would take someone on a first date? Thank you!

Where Easy co. would take you on a first date!

a/n: Of course sweet friend! I’m sorry this took so long but as you know, life has been 🫠, but i hope you enjoy! ❤️

genre: Romance/comedy

warnings: cursing?(maybe idk i forgot); my brutal honest opinion

description: Where the men of easy company would take you for a first date and why!

taglist: @executethyself35 @linhkhanhcps @1waveshortofashipwreck @grumpy-liebgott @barbeygirl @samwinchesterslostshoe @ronsenthal @sweetxvanixlla @mstiemountainhop @imaginethatneathuh @goodluckbabeheffron @resting-distressed-face @bossboudicca (If you want to be on this list, let me know!! :))

BoB masterlist

Dick Winters: He's a simple man, might I add also a very romantic man. I think he would go for a classic candlelight dinner. Probably to some fancy Italian restaurant with amazing alfredo. He would pick you up, or meet you but either way he’s showing up with red roses. During the meal he’d be down for some nice conversation and overall he’s very charming. After dinner he’s paying and tipping the waiter generously.

Lewis Nixon: A sophisticated man like himself who occasionally enjoys history is definitely taking you to a museum for your first date. Thankfully he would pay for the both of you. I think it would go pretty well overall. Only somewhat bad thing about the whole date is the fact that he would talk so much about himself and interrupt. I don’t think he would do it on purpose, he really just loves talking any chance he gets lmao.

Carwood Lipton: He’s probably going to take you out to eat for your first date. Instead of a dinner date though, I see him taking you to a really cute cafe for brunch or something like that. He would be so polite the entire time, using his manners and being attentive to you. He’s kind of the opposite of Nix, instead of talking about himself, he can’t stop asking you questions and getting to know you more. “I didn’t know if you were allergic so I decided not to get you some, but I would love to give you a bouquet next time we meet.

Joe Toye: I feel like he’d be the type of guy to invite you to a bar on the first date. Not exactly like a bar but a nice seclusive brewery that isn't super overwhelming to get to, so I guess a pub? He's a fan of getting a couple drinks, relaxing, and talking about whatever is going on at the moment. He’s paying for all the drinks you get. Did I also mention that he’s so damn charismatic during the entire time? Afterward he would be more than welcome to walking or driving you home.

Joe Liebgott: This hottie would probably try to pick a nice dinner restaurant to eat at for your first date but then settle for something a bit more simple, like an ice cream date. You guys could sit, relax, and chit chat while enjoying a nice scoop of goodness (Sounds like an amazing date tbh.) He would of course pay for your ice cream and even take you out to another cool place afterwards (aka his room) if the date goes well.

Bill Guarnere: I feel like he’d definitely be the one to take you out to a nightclub on the first date. He’s all about having fun, and having fun with you, so why not go out and dance while getting to know eachother better? You definitely have to stop him a couple times for trying to grab your ass while dancing. You guys would have good conversation and fun and he’d definitely ask you to come to his place after.

George Luz: George would totally take you to an arcade on your first date together. I feel like that perfectly gives off his vibe. Fun and playful while still getting to know each other better. I'm not getting a Dave and Busters kinda vibe but maybe a cute place downtown that has fun games. (notice how you guys would probably be the only two adults there lol) Ughh it would be totally perfect. (George is so “Boyfriend” yk?) He would of course pay and afterwards maybe a cute kiss?

Moe Alley: I think he would invite you somewhere pretty random for a first date. Maybe wine tasting? It's giving middle aged mom but trust me it would be a total vibe lmao. Both of you would probably be a little tipsy afterwards (Ugh imagine flustered and tipsy Moe) and need an uber home. If he really liked the date I feel like he’d be the type to text you non stop until you guys go out for another date lmao.

Eugene Roe: I fear we’re going to find a common theme here. As much as I love Roe, I think he would settle for a nice dinner date like a good bit of the others. He would probably take you out to a steakhouse with really pretty decor. He would be such a cute gentleman the entire time. A little shy at first but he warms up to you as the night goes on. He's one of those guys that doesn’t want to make it awkward so he tries not to keep too quiet. (Also he would tip the waiter a lot which is a plus.)

Bull Randleman: Okay here me out: An at home dinner prepared by him. I know it’s kinda giving serial killer vibes when a man invites you to his house on a first date but lets go ahead and assume that you two already know each other pretty well beforehand. He gives such a homey vibe I feel like it would be out of his character to go out and spend a 100 dollars on a dinner that he “has all at home” But don’t worry because he can cook a pretty good steak.

Floyd Talbert: I think the first date with Tab HAS to be mini golf. The cute banter between you two while he’s slighting winning, the fake pouting once you take the lead. The flirting between holes and casual chit-chat while playing, he’s the perfect guy for a date like this. He’s so charismatic it's kind of hard not to fall for him after the first date. “We should come back here next week, then you might actually be able to beat me then, sweets.”

Skip Muck: To me I feel like he would want to take you somewhere a little seclusive where both of you can just relax and enjoy yourselves without there being crowds of people there. I could definitely see you and him going to a nice comedy show in town that has some nice drinks and food. It would be so fun for a little date night. Maybe afterwards you guys could stop by an ice cream shop and get some dessert?

Don Malarkey: I think like some of the other guys he would take you out to eat for a first date, but instead out to dinner maybe a lunch date at a diner? One with hamburgers and milkshakes that are to die for. There’s definitely a moment within the date where he’s trying to chug his milkshake and ends up getting a horrible brain freeze lol. Afterwards he would take you to a sweet drive-in movie theater to watch a classic movie. (He’s just the sweetest)

Babe Heffron: This first date has to be at an amusement park of some sort. I mean an amusement park kinda sums up his personality as a whole . Fun, wild, and if you’re there just know you’re having a good time 9 times out of 10. He would dare to go on all of the scariest rides with him. (Cue to him screaming at the top of his lungs right next to your ear. ) He definitely gets a stomach ache from eating all the junk at the park. By the end of the date he's making you take super cute pics in a photobooth

Shifty Powers: I’m really thinking that he would love to take you on a super duper cute picnic! He would set up a picnic table at the park and you guys could hangout there once the weather is nice during the day. He’s such a gentleman the entire time, it's certain that you guys are gonna have an amazing date together. Also his attempt at making a bunch of homemade foods is actually really good, I have a feeling he’s secretly an amazing cook!

Frank Perconte: He’s just gotta take you to a drive-in movie. He knows it won’t be too awkward because the movie will be playing, and if you guys run out of things to talk about then you guys could just focus on the movie. (Major overthinker here) he’s definitely one of those guys who sit there and stare at you intensely while you watch the movie and you can just feel his gaze on you lmao. “I had a fun time tonight, maybe we can go get dinner sometime again next week?”

Ronald Speirs: Again, (like a lot of the other guys) I'm sensing that he would take you on an amazing dinner date. He would probably take you to one of those fancy hibachi restaurants that make volcanoes out of onions and whatnot. I think he would be such a charming person you can’t tell if he’s going to be the love of your life or make you wish you were never born. He’s the type to pull up to the date with one singular rose to impress you lmao.

Johnny Martin: This old head is taking you bowling. (arguably one of the worst date options in my opinion) It’s a little awkward at first, just because the walking back from it being your turn and seeing him staring at you is so funny lmao. Also i can’t forget to mention the fact that he’s oddly super good at bowling?? I mean this man is practically getting a strike every time. “Maybe we should play again sometime, unless you don’t wanna get beat again.”

Chuck Grant: Okay here me out, this guy loves cars and motorcycles and just driving in general, so what would be better than a first date then go-kart racing?? It would be really fun and not too awkward for a first date. Maybe afterwards he could take you to a burger joint where you guys could get to know each other a bit better. But go-karting would originally take the awkwardness out of the first date.

Skinny Sisk : Axe throwing!! He wants to put your skills to the test (and his) with some fun knife throwing (i can’t tell if imagining him throwing an axe is hot or scary. ) Hopefully with a place that also serves food and drinks as well! The entire time he would try to make you laugh with a bunch of corny jokes of his (you can tell off the bat he’s kind of a terrible flirt lol) Afterwards he’d take you home and maybe finish the night off with a kiss?

David Webster: Knowing this guy, of course he just has to take you to an art gallery. He would sit there and try telling you all about some of the art pieces up for show. And after he would take you somewhere that has some really good tasting wine. I think the date would be very lax but also interesting. The more you talk to him all you can think is, “What else has this guy been through?” (I think he’s the type to trauma dump on the first date but can’t hate bc relatable tbh)

Buck Compton: I’m not trying to stereotype but I REALLY would want him to take you to a baseball game for a first date. He would be so excited to tell you all about the sport, he also desperately tries to catch a ball for you to take home. He probably buys you guys a ton of junk to snack on throughout the game and is so easy to talk to while the game is going on. “I know they lost but, wanna try and go out again sometime next weekend?”

Thank you all for reading so much! If you enjoyed, please help a writer out and like or reblog!! 🩷💖💕💝

[haroldhearsawho]

When they’re naked in bed together and Lewis is running his hands all over Dick’s tight toned chest and arms and purrs “my big strong soldier” in his ear kinda meaning it as a joke but it just does it for Dick

Also when Lewis calls Dick by his rank in the middle of sex or when he’s flirting/teasing him…yeah

Lewis is laying seductively across the bed and Dick is standing at the foot of it raking his eyes over his body hungrily and Lewis goes “What are you going to do to me, Major?”

[lovelyd0gg]

Some mini HCs!

Heya! I decided I wanted to do this cute little thing where I write a small story with you and the boys in different scenarios! But you guys only talking!

The different ways the boys say "I love you too."

Warnings: cutesy fluff<3

Bonus boys: The bonus boys areeeee... David Webster and Richard Winters!

𝙳𝚎𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚁𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚗 (𝙱𝚞𝚕𝚕)

"Hey Bull?"

"𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘩 𝘩𝘶𝘯?"

"I love you."

"𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘢 𝘵𝘰��, 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵."

*soft kiss on the forehead<3."

𝐄𝐮𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐞.

"Gene?"

"𝑴𝒉𝒎?"

"I love you."

"𝑱𝒆 𝒕'𝒂𝒊𝒎𝒆, 𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝒅𝒐𝒖𝒙 𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒓." (𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒆.)

*kiss on the cheek.*

George Luz.

"Luz?"

"ʏᴇᴀʜ ᴘᴏᴛᴀᴛᴏ?"

"I love you."

"ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍʏ ᴛɪɴʏ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʙᴀʙʏ."

*Sweet kiss on the nose.*

𝘿𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙙 𝙈𝙖𝙡𝙖𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙮.

"Malarkey?"

"𝘠𝘶𝘩-𝘩𝘶𝘩?"

"I love you."

"𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨!"

*kiss<3*

𝙻𝚎𝚠𝚒𝚜 𝙽𝚒𝚡𝚘𝚗.

"Hey Nix?"

"𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍?"

"I love you."

"𝖠𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗄? 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁."

*playful smack on the head.*

𝑩𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒆.

"Hey Bill!"

"Waddyawant?"

"I love you."

"Yeah, yeah, I love ya too sweetcheeks."

*kiss<3*

𝚁𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚍 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚜.

"Speirs."

"...hm?"

"I love you."

"...I love you too.."

*gentle head pats.*

𝐽𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑝ℎ 𝐿𝑖𝑒𝑏𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡.

"Hey lieb?"

"What's up, beautiful?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, sunshine."

*kiss<33*

𝘿𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙙 𝙒𝙚𝙗𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧.

"Web?"

"yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, honey."

*continues to read book.*

Richard Winters.

"Richard?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

*soft forehead kiss.*

[lupoteodoro]

imagine: Lewis Nixon being YouTuber

[cmspeirs]

Band of Brothers Headcanons: What music they’d be listening to

(+ Playlists and absolutely historically inaccurate)

A/N: Hey! So here’s my first BoB headcanon - I hope you enjoy it! I’m sorry if this is rather short. Let me know if you’d like to see other characters in those or have any requests :) I also spent way too much time making several playlists for them, I’ll link them for you at the end if you wanna listen to them!

{Dick Winters}

• Classical. Music.

• Can list you every thing that Bach or Vivaldi ever published, but with the backstories

• I just picture him closing his eyes and sighing very loudly whenever he listens to something he loves

• Will dance to old Jazz music until the sun comes up, and says the day after that it was a really wild night

• Also listens A LOT to Lana (would never admit it)

• Secretly gossips and argues over her online. Tries to keep it a secret but his username is “DickDelRey101”

{Lewis Nixon}

• Classic Rock all the way

• I’m talking Bob Dylan, Rolling Stones, ACDC…

• “Paranoid - Black Sabbath” was his wedding song

• When he gets home he falls into the old chair next to the record player with a bottle of whiskey already waiting

• He’s always like “I need this music to calm down, don’t you understand???” and absolutely means it

• Drives the car only to listen to “Enter Sandman” and wear sunglasses while he does (windows all the way down, volume max)

• 100% certified Dad music

{Ronald Speirs}

• This mans music is all over the place

• Just like my feelings for him lol

• But mostly listens to a lot of old music???

• Like 40s to 60s, also a big fan of Elvis and Johnny Cash

• Literally has pictures of them hanging in the doorway

• Always says he doesn’t care about things like music, but will make a playlist for every one he meets with songs that remind him of them

• I swear to everything music would be one of his love languages - he’d absolutely remember every song you ever liked

• Turns the radio louder randomly to songs with the explanation “saw you smiling to that with your morning coffee last week”

{Donald Malarkey}

• Listens to a whole lot of sad songs - and I’m talking about gut wrenching, laying on the bathroom floor kind of sad

• Also somehow into Grunge??

• At least three Radiohead songs in every one of his playlists

• The Smiths is his happy music

• When his favorite Pink Floyd Record is on he listens to it all day. He runs to push the play button again every time it stops.

{Joe Toye}

• 100% an alternative Rock / Nu Metal kind of guy

• Would have Deftones playing all day

• Also listens to Bloodhound Gang a lot lol (The song “Jackass” is his anthem!!!)

• Just imagine him sitting in the garage with Guarnere, drinking beer while an old Limp Bizkit vinyl is on

• He thinks it’s the greatest thing of all time that bands began to combine Rap with Hardcore

• In terms of that - definitely a fan of Deez Nuts, Hollywood Undead or Linkin Park

• “Band of Brothers - Deez Nuts” is literally his favorite song

{George Luz}

• Unironically listens to the Soundtrack of Oklahoma

• It just puts a smile on his face every time he hears it - takes him back to the news of the musical still on broadway back in war

• Also loves & defends Tom Lehrer to death

• He knows every song from him by heart and always sings the loudest

• Will randomly sing his favorite songs throughout the day, which makes everyone shake their head but deep down they all love it

• He’s almost afraid of sad music

• He aspires to be Ricky Nelson in another life

{Eugene Roe}

• Similar to Malarkey, but doesn’t cry to those songs

• Just sits in silence with a cigarette between his fingers, staring into the nothingness while thinking about his time with Easy

• “Feels like a movie” - songs were made for him

• When he listens to Elton John or Billy Joel you know he’s in a happy mood

• Is also the anonymous person Winter argues with online about Lana

• DickDelRay101 replied: Are you clinically insane? How could you deny it’s her best album? Did you even listen to it?

• Absolutely knows that it’s Winters and accidentally called him Sir when he replied (several times)

{Joe Liebgott}

• Hear. Me. Out. He’s a pop punk & grunge boy all the way

• Has a big collection of thrifted vinyls (if you can’t find him, search at the next thrift market)

• Puts on Nirvana or the Offspring and just lays on his bed while smoking a whole pack of cigarettes

• Room full of ripped band posters and at least one guitar (but can’t play, although he says he can)

• 10/10 would’ve lived in a skatepark in another life

• Also really into Old school HipHop, loves the Beastie Boys

• Accidentally went to a New Kids on the Block concert once. Said he hated it but stayed until the very last minute.

{David Webster}

• Would also listen to classical music

• But it would just be for people to think he’s very intellectual, actually can’t stand it

• In reality really into slow and soft love songs

• Listens to Vera Lynn on a daily basis and happily admits that he cries to her songs. Always speaks of “Our Vera.”

• When he listens to “There’ll always be an England” he suddenly gets an English accent.

• The Fleetwoods is his favorite band

• Tries to listen to Pop Punk because he knows Joe loves it, but he absolutely hates it

• “There’s no emotion Joe!!”

• “For fucks sake, Web, there’s all the goddamn emotion!!?!!”

{Bull Randleman}

• Hard Rock, can’t say more

• Also 100% certified Dad music. He’s the one who visits Nixon once a week to play poker and smoke cigars while listening to his records

• Is the guy at a concert who will accidentally throw you to the ground while in a mosh pit

• But will absolutely make everyone stop so he can pick you up again

———

Link to the Ronald Speirs playlist:

Link to my profile - the other playlists are on there (still updating them regularly):

[rogue-durin-16]

HEAD-TO-HEAD (part III/?)

Summary: Joe thought she was pretty. Had he just said that, things might have been different for them. Maybe they wouldn't have gone head-to-head at each other for three years like it was a contest.

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x Reader

Genre: angst splattered with fluff/rivals to lovers

Tags:

Head-to-head: @derersketnoget

Band Of Brothers: @fernando-jpg @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world @clumsy-wonderland @lordndsaviorwinters

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, sexism, harassment, violence

A/N: this took longer than I wanted to because adulting sucks and my life is currently a roller coaster. Not even emotionally, it's just dead ass going off the rails in every way. In case 2024 is being a bitch to you too, have some Liebgott content to brighten up your day, enjoy <3

Head-to-head masterlist

Band of Brothers masterlist

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"You happy now?" Joe's voice broke the empty mess hall's unusual silence, making me jump ever so slightly before he appeared on my side by the door.

"I gotta put up with you for the night, so no." My eyes landed on him with my last words, making emphasis on my discontentment with the punishment. "I don't get what I did wrong to deserve this."

"Do I spell it out for you?"

"Shut up."

6 Hours Earlier

"Why're you running?"

Running? No, I was not running. The only occasions anyone would see me running were the ones when we went up and down Currahee.

Walking fast? Maybe. Maybe for once I was trying not to get in trouble, even if 'trouble' meant three men choosing to make hell out of my afternoon off just because they knew they could.

"C'mon, doll."

That did it. I planted my feet on the camp's dirt, causing the fastest of the three to bump into me.

"Don't 'doll' me, asshole." I accompanied my statement with a shove on the boy's chest, not strong enough to make him stumble but firm enough to maintain my personal space.

"Feisty one, ain't ya?" The second one to chime into the confrontation circled me to stand by my left. I didn't dignify his prying with my attention.

"What do I call you then, princess?" Bennett, I recalled, was the name of the soldier who was adamant about giving me a pet name.

"Mmm..." I pretended to muse it, my index finger resting atop my lips. "What 'bout you just don't call me? Ever. Problem fuckin' solved."

"Good girls don't swear." I scoffed at the poisonous warning with anything but amusement. "What's funny, doll?"

"Oh, honey, you don't know how good of a girl I'm being right now."

"Ooooh..." He shortened the space between us, hovering as if to make me back against the barracks. Not happening. "Look at her, Smith. So tough."

"Big mouth, but be careful." They were closing on me. It didn't take a genius to see where this was about to go. "Keep running it like that and Easy might find you in a ditch one day."

"Real charmer, aren't you?" The corner of my mouth twitched up briefly, chin held up like I had nothing to lose. "Take it easy, yeah? Might surprise yourself and end up flat on your back."

"That what you think's gonna happen?"

JOE'S P. O. V.

I had been trying to find a half-assed excuse to approach Y/n for a good minute—obviously with no fruition—, when one of the men now crowding her got in her face.

"Goddamn it." I muttered through gritted teeth, tossing my cigarette to the dirt to crush it with my heel before stalking to the group's side. "Back off her! Now."

Y/n's squinted eyes landed on me before I could close the distance. "The hell are you doing?" The tone was quiet and hasty, as if she was ready to start a side fight with me.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I countered, rising my arm between Y/n and Bennett, not turning my head to him briefly. "Don't even think about it."

"This isn't your fight." My attention returned to Y/n with an annoyed huff when she put my arm down.

"Go back where you came from, Liebgott." I didn't even process Smith stepping to me until his hand collided with my shoulder, causing me to bump against the barracks' wall. "We're just having a chat."

I didn't give give it a second thought before pushing Smith back. Hard. "Try that again."

READER'S P. O. V.

The soldier snarled, giving Joe a taunting up-and-down, and swung a fist toward him.

I was acting out of instinct when, without a word, my hand closed on Smith's collar and landed a hard punch that forced him to back off.

"Nobody touches him." My index finger pointed at Joe in an attempt to regain some control of a situation that had already spiraled.

The remaining privates hesitated for an instant —just an instant— after realizing the confrontation escalated in the middle of camp. One way or another, we all were already in trouble.

I guess that's what Bennett was thinking when he attempted to take a swing back at me.

Joe yanked me back by my arm at the same time as Malarkey and Grant sprinted to put themselves between both Bennett and us.

"Hey! Break it up- BREAK IT UP!" Don yelled, struggling to keep back the two privates, although not as much as Grant struggled to keep both me and Joe at bay. "Toye! Bill!"

In a matter of seconds, Guarnere and Toye took on Malarkey's task so the ginger could separate me from Liebgott. I guess, by now, they knew us too well.

"You try that. See where it takes you." Toye grunted, shoving Bennett to the ground with minimal effort. "Get outta here."

"The hell were you two on now?" Guarnere's question almost sounded as a complaint when he turned around.

"You ask her." Joe spat, shaking Grant off.

"Don't put this on me," I pointed an accusatory finger at Joe. "you threw hands first."

"Did you miss the part where he shoved me?"

"Next time don't play hero and maybe you won't get pushed around."

Joe looked away with a sneer. "You're a goddamn idiot, you know that? Do you even know what was about to happen?"

"Don't put it like it was my fault." I heard a muttered curse from someone on my left flank when I pivoted my body to face Joe.

"Y/n." Malarkey placed his full attention on me in a disguised attempt to deescalate the argument. "What happened?"

"I'm a girl surrounded by assholes who don't know when to quit, Malark. That happened." It wasn't meant to land on Liebgott —it really wasn't—, but he took it personally anyway.

"No, what happened is that you don't know how to shut up." It was Joe's turn to step closer, forcing Grant to halfheartedly press a steady hand on his shoulder as a warning.

"And you do?!"

"You know how fights work?!"

"I wouldn't be here if I didn't!"

"Really?! Three against one?! real fuckin' smart!"

"I didn't ask for your opinion, and I sure as hell didn't ask for your help!"

"Alright, you know what—" Joe slapped Grant's hand away.

"Hey!" A flustered Talbert swept in just in time to take a hold of his friend. "Enough!"

"No, let him." I coaxed Floyd, although my eyes stayed locked with Liebgott's. "You're no better than them, you know that?"

"The hell is wrong with you two?" Don's exasperated gaze ping-ponged between us both. "No, seriously. What's gonna happen when we're out there? We're supposed to be a team."

"Don's right." Toye, who rarely showed any interest in whatever spat Joe and I had gotten ourselves into, sounded fairly worried. "You keep this shit up, you're gonna get someone killed."

"What's going on here?" Nixon's voice, despite not holding any scowl, snapped everyone out of the chaotic haze hanging among us. It barely took him a few seconds to pick up on what was going on. "Oh, for Christ's sake... Liebgott, Y/l/n. With me. Now."

With two quiet 'yes, Sir' Joe and I parted ways from our friends to follow the irritated officer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

My eyes traced, distracted, invisible patterns on the wooden floor beneath my half-laced boots. Across from me, Joe toyed with the buttons of his jacket, fingers methodical, as if the world outside didn’t exist.

Around half an hour must have passed since we both finally were able to return to our bunks.

Neither of us had spoken much. At first, it was due to Sobel's orders —'no talking unless it's related to the mess hall's cleaning'—, but as the night unfolded, Joe and I got caught in the quiet haze of fatigue that made talking feel like too much effort.

Funnily enough, as soon as we got the chance to get the rest we needed, our bodies and minds refused to shut down.

Something about the silence felt stifling now, uncomfortable. Maybe it was the fact that we were the only two people awake, or maybe it was the scarce distance put between us.

"You got a fella back home?" Joe's voice cut through the quiet, his tone casual but clear.

Of course he would go there.

"If I had a nickel for every time one of you asked," I muttered, pulling at the knot of my laces. "I think I wouldn’t need a paycheck."

"Didn’t answer the question." he replied, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, eyes sharp on me in that way of his that made anyone feel like they were being measured.

"No, Joe," my negative was a little sharper than I had intended. "Don’t have a fella. Don't need one."

"Huh." he leaned back again, eyes still on me like he was dissecting my words.

The conversation should’ve ended there, but we were tired, and tired people asked questions they wouldn’t normally ask. I glanced up at him, squinting slightly in the dim light.

"What about you, Liebgott? Got a girl waiting on you?"

His digits, now taking unnecessary time with the cuff of his sleeve, paused briefly. "Not anymore."

The shift in his tone caught me off guard. It wasn’t bitter, but it wasn’t light either. It had weight. Enough weight to make me sit up straighter and watch him a little more closely.

"Not anymore." I repeated, letting the words hang there for a moment before tilting my head. "What's that mean?"

He scratched at the back of his head, fingers combing through his dark hair before resting at the nape of his neck. His gaze stayed casted down on the floor like he was reading something only he could see.

"Eh... Being in love ain't enough sometimes."

"You were in love?" I didn't bother hiding the surprise in my voice.

"Shit, I was married." There was an amused ring to his admission, and even in the darkness of the garrison, I discerned the usual twitch on the corner of his mouth. "What? Surprised?"

I shrugged, kicking off my jump boots. "Wouldn't have pinned you for the married type."

"Yeah, well," he shook off his jacket and bent over to undo his laces. "what about the divorced type?"

His eyes flickered to me, so quickly it might as well have been a trick of my imagination. He wanted to catch my reaction, but didn't want me to do the same with him.

"We were too young. People pull reckless moves when they're hung up on somebody."

A frown he wouldn't catch due to his sudden interest in his boots darkened my expression for an instant. He was justifying himself. Why?

"Won't catch me doing that shit ever again, though."

"What? Falling in love?" After the way his head tilted up to me, I didn't need a verbal answer. "is it that awful?"

It was his turn to furrow his brows. "You never been in love?"

"Nah." I accompanied my curt reply with a denying move before pulling my legs onto the mattress.

"Do yourself a favor," he threw his footwear under the bed and mirrored my posture. "keep it that way."

"Holy shit." I exhaled with a single breathy laugh. "She really fucked you up, huh?" He chuckled, shaking his head without looking at me. "She left you, then."

The loudness of his silence made me wonder if I had pushed it too far. There was no hostility in him, though, only something that could easily pass as discomfort peppered with what I hardly identified as guilt.

"So what? You get burned once and never try again?"

"Damn right." He grunted, laying down and pulling the covers over his lower body. "Love’s a loaded gun. I'm done pulling that trigger."

"You're so dramatic." I murmured with a quiet chuckle, subconsciously following his cue to get some sleep.

Joe propped himself on his elbow to meet my eyes before I could fully recline. "Just wait 'til some douchebag breaks your heart."

"I don't think I'll have time for that anytime soon." I retorted without missing a beat, although there was no illness in my response.

"Smart." He stated after examining whatever glimpse of my frame he could still see. "Smarter than me."

"Don't get cocky, alright?"

"I know."

Joe gave me one last look that seemed more amused than annoyed.

"Night, Liebgott." I simply replied, tucking myself comfortably in my bunk.

"Night, Y/l/n."

[belovedastolove]

bofb ships and petnames hc’s :D

hey yall sorry for inactivity!!!! i am feeling quite insane and can’t stop thinking about this so i present you with this :3

webgott - david calls joe liebling because he is obsessed with the fact that the german word for darling is so close to joe’s name. he also calls joe honey and and joe pretends to hate it but actually is Absolutely Obsessed with it. joe calls david davey but only when he’s feeling especially tender and sweet.

baberoe - gene absolutely smothers babe with a bunch of random french petnames. a personal favorite of mine is mon cœur which means my heart or mon ange which means my angel. babe likes to call gene baby or love or genie.

luztoye - joe definitely calls george sugar, i don’t make the rules. george likes to call joe stud muffin as a joke but calls him sunshine when he’s feeling especially loving.

winnix - they aren’t big on petnames, but lew loves to call dick honey and dick calls lew dear like an old married couple.

spierton - they call each other sweetheart. end of discussion.

[luminouslywriting]

Angsty stressful BOB headcanon - you accidentally get pregnant during the war and try to hide it but they catch on that’s something wrong w you

Sweetheart, I LIVE for and LOVE angsty requests, so I’m here for this! For the sake of historical accuracy and simplicity, reader is a medic/nurse that travels with Easy Company! More below the cut, cut for length, angst mentioned, pregnancy things and miscarriages mentioned:

Dick Winters:

-The thought that you might be pregnant is NOT one that crosses his mind initially. You’re distancing yourself and he doesn’t understand why. -He does his best to try and reach out and try to show you that he’s still committed—he’s honestly wondering what he did wrong. -The minute he sees the small little baby bump though?? He knows and he feels IMMENSE guilt over the entire thing. He should’ve been more careful and you definitely deserve better than being an unwed pregnant woman. -He’s now double stressed about the war and how he’s going to fix things with you and reconcile the problem. So his solution is to have a quiet elopement with you. -At least now you have some money to be taken care of. And he begs you to go and stay with his family back in the states so that you have someone taking care of you since he can’t be there. -He’s happy to have you and to be a father but it’s a very angsty and emotional time that won’t be reconciled until the war is over.

Lewis Nixon:

-Well this is a messy situation….if only because he’s well aware he’s getting a divorce but he was also having an affair with you and now you’re pregnant. -Panicked stressed upset—all of the emotions and goes through the five stages of grief tbh…and drinks to cope. -He’s got a lot of mixed emotions about the complexity of the situation. This is a second chance for happiness and also the nail in the coffin to his previous family. He also feels the weight of responsibility pretty heavily. -Also wants to marry you ASAP and cleans up his act so that he can have a chance with you and the kid. -Views it as a messy second chance so he’s very grateful despite the poor timing of everything. Dick helps him see the good in the situation. -He plans on making a very happy life with you as soon as he can.

Ronald Speirs:

-Clocks onto you being more sick than normal and more often….and just puts two and two together. He’s not an idiot, he knows he should’ve been more careful, and he feels bad. -This is a war and it’s not exactly great timing. He doesn’t want to make you commit to anything if you’re not absolutely certain of being with him. -Conversations are had about whether or not you’ll keep the kid and what you’ll do if you decide to keep it. Co-parenting seems to be the safest bet for now. -Don’t get me wrong, he wants a life with you. He just doesn’t want you to feel like he’s trapped you in said life with him. -He’s probably the most logical about things in the sense that he’s making sure you get a transfer back to London and away from the front lines for safety and health purposes. -Also dutifully writes you until the war is over and he can meet the kid and marry you.

Buck Compton:

-Despite the seriousness of the situation, it just depends on if it was before or after Bastogne. Either way, I think he’s a very big nervous wreck about things. -He wants to be a dad, wants to be a husband and have a life with you….but not like this. -Whatever his plan is that he’s figuring out, it gets thrown off by Bastogne and everything that happens there. -I truthfully think that the best thing might be for you to follow him home since you’re pregnant and try to help in his recovery. You can be a big help emotionally to him. -Buck feels a lot of guilt for feeling broken and not able to support or help you as a parent or lover, but the minute that kid is born, he’s getting everything back on track. -After a while, he’ll ask you to marry him and share a life with him.

Carwood Lipton:

-This responsible mother hen?? Feels like the W O R S T person ever. Not his intention to put you in this situation and wants to send you home with a ring on your finger post-haste. -So that’s exactly what he does, he finds the nearest chaplain and gets hitched and then writes his mother

-He has so much guilt over not being there for the birth of the baby and not being there for you

-But it’s the hope of seeing you and the baby that keeps him going and keeps him hopeful, even during times like Bastogne. -Probably quietly talks about the situation with a few pals of his, including Speirs. And he definitely misses you a lot. -And consistently apologizes the rest of your marriage over the entire thing.

Joseph Liebgott:

-Doesn’t know whether or not to hope for the best or the worst because the timing of it all is just super poor and inconvenient?? -Feels guilty over that and while he’s happy that this means he gets to have you in his life, he’s also acutely aware of how complicated he’s made things for you. -It’s an anchor point for him to remember what he’s fighting for and that humanity is a thing though, so there’s that sobering point he gets to. -Probably wants to get married but there’s not a chaplain around so his next bet is to go to Winters and try to get you transferred somewhere else. -Promises he’s going to make it back to you and get married after the war. He thinks of little else during Bastogne and the hard times. -When he goes to Austria, you show up with the baby and he finally gets to meet baby Liebgott and get hitched haha.

Donald Malarkey:

-Excited and sad at the same time?? Doesn’t really know how to feel and is now worried about leaving you on your own with a baby. -Is also really worried he’ll never get to meet the baby and so he tries to make the most of the short times that you do have together. -Insists on getting married so that if he dies, you have some fallback money and something that will take care of you and the baby. -Probably cries about it when he’s alone because it was NOT the plan and he doesn’t think that you should have to put up with any of this stuff anyway. -Tries to find baby stuff in different towns that he can give to you when he gets back to you. -Wrote home to his mother immediately that she was going to be a grandmother lol.

Eugene Roe: (Big sad, I’m sorry):

-Was not intending on getting you pregnant but now that you are, he’s super excited and happy about it….and also terrified because pregnancy has so many complications anyway. -Prays avidly for your safety and for the baby’s safety as you two are figuring things out. Truth be told, it’s probably right around Bastogne that you both figure out that you ARE pregnant. -The guilt is real and he’s coming into the city as much as possible to try and see you and check on you. It’s cold, rations are low, and you’re working a lot anyway. -Now here’s where you’re all going to demand I pay for therapy (get in line kids). You survive the church collapsing but you lose the baby a few weeks later after some severe cramping and being sick. -And the thing is?? He’s horribly awfully and guiltily relieved because it’s probably safer for you this way and there was no way that either of you could have been parents right now. -But he does promise to marry you and that you’ll have more children one day.

Bill Guarnere:

-Finds out about it by accident when you’re telling another nurse and freaking out bc you don’t know what to do. And this man?? Baffled and shocked and trying to figure out what to say. -So he comes to you and quietly lets you know that he knows and is willing to do whatever you need/want for things. -You two get married right before D-Day and then he ships out. You two write letters back and forth faithfully for months. -Everyone knows you’re having a baby and that is the baby of Easy Company lol. -His accident in Bastogne happens and he gets shipped back to London and then back to the states and you go with him. -He’s in recovery when the baby is born and he’s happy about it because it’s really a new life for everyone tbh.

Joe Toye:

-You try to break up with him and the argument gets pretty nasty bc there’s no real reason for the breakup until you drop the bomb that you’re pregnant and he just??? Short circuits?? -He gets really soft and sweet about the entire thing and promises that he’s going to stay by your side through it. -So he writes his family ASAP and marries you in a church in his uniform. Then you’re getting sent back to your family and his and it’s a bit messy. -But he’s writing you and really excited to meet the kid….who is faithfully and dutifully born a few weeks before his accident in Bastogne. -He doesn’t even know the kid had been born until he gets back and there’s a lot of guilt and grief and feelings of inadequacy about the situation. -But he’s a great dad and a great husband so it all works out.

George Luz:

-is honestly trying to come up with every possibly outcome and solution so that he’s prepared for whatever decision you make. -You told him about it shortly after they returned from D-Day and he’s a little shocked (more than a little) and having a hard time keeping a lid on things. -He wanted a whole wedding that everyone could celebrate and be happy with, but going down to a courthouse with you and a few of the guys will do. -Gives the men of Easy Company updates on the pregnancy via letters from you all of the time. And you get the weirdest most random questions from them, I’m sure. -Narrowly survived Bastogne and was really struggling until your letters started coming through again. -Is really excited to meet the baby and see you again once things are over with the war.

[speirslore]

when you get hurt hcs [officers + roe]

a/n: requested <3 usually in my writing the reader is implied to be a part of easy company in a vague way bc i know ppl have different preferences but some of these include getting shot (not graphic or anything) so ig that implies they're on the front lines

lmk if you would like to be on my taglist! @ronsparky @bcon24 @blueberry-ovaries @1waveshortofashipwreck

[dick winters]

you hit your head prettyyyy hard, and you're out of it, probably definitely concussed

it happens right in front of dick and he tries really hard to keep calm

he wants to be strong and level-headed for you

shows more obvious affection then any of the men have ever seen from him; pets your hair, holds your hand, is always by your side

he immediately gets you a medic and transported to an aid station and doesn’t want to leave you

but when dick's back with easy, he gets uncharacteristically easily angry and frustrated...

he gets quiet and withdrawn and a little snappy with zelensky and nix... and they both immediately know why

whenever he can go see you, he's there.. he even gets behind on all his paperwork (but nix offers to help)

which dick is hesitant to accept for many reasons, he feels guilty, like he's not focusing on his duties but lew is always good at keeping the reports concise lol

very fragile with you, he isn't underestimating you but he just absolutely does not want to push you or hurt you

is a stickler for the rules, follows absolutely everything the doctor says

he has to wake you up every few hours and you keep insisting it’s unnecessary and dick is absolutely not having it

you try to get up and move around and all dick has to hear is the sheets moving and he just gives you that stare, a little bit like a disappointed mom, and you're right back laying down

he’s way more clingy than usual, wants to be by your side, subtly holding your hand

in that moment it definitely hits him how much he loves and cares about you... he hasn't really had time or space to process those feelings until now <3

[lewis nixon]

it does not look good at first

it's really scary for everyone there, you loose a lot of blood and lose consciousness

lew is not there when you're first shot in the leg and everyone is very glad that he didn't have to see it

but when he finds out... oh he is not keeping cool, is not pretending even a little bit to be okay

starts lashing out and snaps at the driver who's taking him to the hospital to drive faster, mad that they didn't tell him sooner, mad that you were injured, mad at the war, furious at absolutely everything

lew has to be monitored by dick not to go full self destruction mode and get incredibly drunk

he hates just sitting with the constant uncomfortable feeling and reminder that you're hurting

he will not leave your side at first when you’re sleeping a lot, on a lot of medicine, and out of it

one nurse does approach him when he's the only vistor in the hospital left, "sir, the visiting hours-"

he just looks up, obviously devastated, voice cracking, "i'm can't leave. you can drag me out but i'm not going, thanks."

they back off after that

does go through a phase where he hates going once you're more conscious because he kills him to see you like that and face this feels irrational guilt he feels for not being there

because he definitely has the tendency to avoid his problems and things that hurt him

but it hurts you too and you don't fully understand

you look up at dick and harry, slightly delirious from the morphine, tearing up, "does he not want to see me anymore?"

after that they do drag lew to see you and you just straight up tell him feeling guilty is pointless and not fair to himself (or you)

and then it's right back to not leaving your side and always trying to make you laugh or smile

[ron speirs]

okay so i love the angel of the company x speirs trope

by now he's the co of easy and your relationship is a widely known secret...

he assigns you and the group of other men to a patrol... it wasn't an overly risky or bad order, a standard order from sink

but you guys make contact and you're shot in the arm

it just absolutely wrecks him

the guys feel like he's just going to go across enemy lines and find the soldier that shot you himself

the rest of the guys are furious too because everyone just absolutely loves you

for a short time, he's mad at the other soldiers on the patrol and you have to reminder him they didn't do anything wrong

but ron is really just irrationally mad at himself for not being there, for not being psychic, he's just angry he somehow didn't stop this

ron is not controlling and not possessive and he knows you can hold your own but he feels responsible for taking care of you and making sure you're safe

even if he can't quite articulate all of those feelings yet

he doesn't understand all the emotions he feels and doesn't even have time to try to understand them

he listens so attentively to the doctors, he can recite everything they've said word for word

like with chuck, he demands the absolute best from the doctors

this incident shows his more compassionate side and the guys start to see how much he really cares about you... bc they're protective of you too!

you have to comfort him and his voice breaks

and he feels weak and he feels bad that you're comforting him and not the other way around

"i'm messing everything up, doing everything wrong," he says more to himself but you frown, eyebrows furrowed and everything

"you're so hard on yourself, ron. when it's not your fault, it was routine, you didn't shoot me. then i'd be really pissed." you smile and he smiles weakly... but he's on edge for a longgg time after this

[carwood lipton]

unfortunately you and lip just cannot catch a break

your leg gets injured while he has pneumonia

it's not a major injury but a bullet ricocheted off of a wall and slightly grazed you and you need a few days of staying off of it

lip really tries to be comforting

and wants to be there for you and he is!

but it's very hard for him, he just wants you to be okay so badly, even when he himself isn't okay

trying to lecture you about staying off of your leg and asking others for help but breaking out into a coughing fit and then you're trying to help him sit up and to go get some hot water for him

and then he's back to telling you to stop and starts hoarsely calling for luz

it's a MESS

but carwood is a natural caretaker and has been one for most of his life

it makes him hover sooo badly especially because since he's sick too he doesn't have a lot of work to keep him busy

but you're not complaining honestly, it's nice to have more private time and something of a break, even if you're both miserable

you get the special privilege of an actual private back bed room with a mattress and blankets

kind of a bonding experience

you just laugh because what the fuck

it's kind of romantic, first time in a longgg time in an actual bed together

you just go back and forth talking about your future and the life you want after the war

"i don't like this wallpaper," you murmur into his chest

he laughs and that turns into coughing again and you're just rubbing his back trying not to bend your leg... domestic bliss <3

[buck compton]

buck... does not take it well

he takes it extremely hard

like his reaction to joe and bill...

you have pneumonia and the peniciln you need isn't available in bastogne

and it's even worse that he finds out you're sick only a few hours after that and that you've been sick and struggling for the past few days

maybe his reaction would've been different earlier on in the war

but now, it just feels like a destructive domino effect that's sparing no one

it's obvious after all of his friends injuries and your pneumonia that he couldn't stay on the front line... his red bleary eyes and slightly trembling hands said enough

when he gets taken off the line, you're both in an aid station together for a few hours before you're both transferred to different hospital

so his presence is silent reassurance

you want so badly to comfort him but you're so sick and he doesn't want you to, he feels so guilty leaving you

but you hoarsely tell him he needs a break and to process what happened

you're feeling slightly better this day so that makes it a little better... but not that much

both of you have been through hell

but there is a light in the tunnel... or at least you feel that way

buck isn't on the front lines anymore and you both have a chance at a life together post-war

he does not want to leave you, it has to take a lot of malarkey's coaxing him and promising to update buck

[eugene roe]

gene can't decide if having medical knowledge makes it better or worse

and if being the medic and being the one to have their hands covered in the your blood, was better than leaving it in the hands of someone else

he decides it's awful... definitely worse

the very few hours he slept, it was just dreaming of your terrified face

and he wakes with a jolt and is completely miserable

and life just goes on...

a lot of pacing and murmuring

gene closes in on himself when he's upset and stressed, so he becomes even quieter than normal

and the other guys are worried like ??? do we need to intervene and lip just stops them, "leave him alone, he'll be okay."

prays for you a lot, gripping his rosary so tightly and the photo that he has of the two of you when you were still in england

when you both felt some semblance of normalcy

he can't abandon the company to stay with you full time at the aid station to his incredible frustration and disappointment

it's just hard for him to go on like everything's fine, it shatters whatever illusion he has of fairness and hope and safety

whenever someone else gets injured or they need supplies, he'll take any excuse to ride back to the aid station to see you

and if anyone else goes, they always see you and give gene an update

winters definitely notices and tries to give him opportunities to see you

likes watching you rest and sleep (because you definitely needed it, even before you got injured) in the sweetest, non-creepy way

gene loves to just sit with you, see you with his own eyes, and know for certain that you're okay

[bellewintersroe]

Okay this is part 2 from this anon request, which one of my lovely followers asked if I could do in the comments @beautifulbluejay <3

Easy Boys x Reader Headcanons - How They React To You Going MIA.

It happened just before his leave to Paris, in fact the reason Nix pushes his leave so hard is because everybody genuinely thought you had gone.

So the trip to Paris isn’t exactly a leave for him, he’s alone and just thinking about you the whole time.

Grief stricken- nobody else knew about your relationship considering it was fraternisation, so he literally feels so alone.

This one’s a lil different- but you’d be completely lost and track Winters down in Paris, all you’d need to do is ask Lewis and he’d probs blabber mouth it to you- although he does think you’re a little crazy because you’ve just gone MIA in the middle of Europe for almost a week and now you’re wanting to travel to Paris.

Anyway you’d get to the correct place, despite having a slight cut on your forehead and grazed knees you’re physically fine- but you get caught up in a German hospital during your time lost and it’s mf scary. You’re so lucky you’re still alive.

You’d knock on the door (assuming it was his) and when he answers it he kinda cracks it open only slightly, and then rips the rest fully open and has a literal heart attack.

“Dick?!” Your voice cracks and you’re crashing into his chest before he can even fathom.

“You’re- you’re here- I?” He’s overwhelmed, wondering if he’s dreaming or not until his arms wrap tightly around you, feeling you cling onto dear life.

Once the shock has worn off and tears were shed Dick can’t let you go. He’s slightly dizzied with practically the shock of his life.

When you’re sleeping he keeps watching over you, checking you’re real.

He can’t do enough for you, gets you food water (ofc), checks over any wounds you have, really talks to you about it- like Dick out of all the men seems extremely emotionally intelligent, so he wants to make sure you’re really okay.

“Just tell me and I can send you somewhere safer…”

“I’d rather just be where you are.”

Lewis Nixon:

After he was supposed to jump into Berlin and he only just made it out of the plane, he turned up to see the explosion right before his eyes. The Germans were shooting down the planes- including the ones he knew you alongside so many other flight nurses and young men were on.

Not only had it gone terribly- now his trauma of knowing you’re potentially gone makes everything 10x harder.

He’d not been able to see you much throughout the war, you’re often stationed in different areas, but he always worried about you, and just then he was so close to you, yet still so far away- it pained Lewis.

Replays the moment over and over again in his head, drinks more and more and as the days pass and he receives no letter from you or your company or family- he knows the worst is coming.

Asks Dick if he should write a letter for your family- he was there after all. Dick informs him it’s probably best to wait until he’s found out what’s really happened to you.

But the silence was screaming at him- and every time be see’s a nurse in a uniform near him he grows restless.

He’s walking near the hospital one day, where he knows hundreds of the prisoners from the camp are being treated. He watches from afar as dozens more of them pile out of trucks and vans, some of them unable to walk- the rest of them still being treated inside the walls of the camp.

He turns away when he see’s the nurses, feeling overwhelmed by the grief until he hears a quick, “Lewis!”

He turns around so quick, dropping his cigarette when he’s stunned by the sound of your voice.

Seconds later you’re running towards him, grinning and giggling. He feels his chest squeeze tighter and he’s practically scurrying towards your direction to embrace you in the biggest hug of his lifetime.

Holy fuck. Lewis thinks. Holy fuck, fuck, fuck. Thank god.

His eyes close and he squeezes you tighter, hand pressing to the back of your head as he attempts to calm himself down whilst you cling onto him.

He very quickly pulls you towards his lips, kissing you deeply, so needily, he doesn’t care who see’s.

Both of you keep talking over the top of one another, excited to be in each others presence again.

“But I thought your plane went down?!” Lewis doesn’t notice until you hold his hands that he’s shaking.

“No, we turned back miles ago, it was too dangerous- oh I’m so glad you’re okay, I didn’t know what happened to you.”

The feeling is mutual, and even if you only get a night to spend together Lewis makes it all worthwhile.

Ron Speirs:

This man is tense asf from the second anything happens.

“What happened to the nurses?” His voice is quiet yet sharp and quick. His hand grabs at Nixon’s arm, urging him to answer immediately.

“Uh, I don’t know. They were in the hospital that got bombed, we’re not sure.” Lewis sighs out slowly, clearly affected by the trauma, but he has no idea about Ron and you.

Ron takes it upon himself to literally do anything he can in his power to find you- ofc he’s worried about everybody else, but the two of you have been together in private way back since before you were deployed. His hearts in his chest.

“We got them all sir, but one.”

“Y/l/n. Where’s Y/l/n?” He attempts to keep cool but his heart is thumping, he has the worst sickness and he can barely hold back how he’s feeling.

The man pauses and shakes his head. “Don’t know, sir.”

The whole company is obviously in grieving, this is when he’s still part of D-company but he’s in misery- he breaks only when he’s alone and in front of the men he keeps an even more tough exterior than ever.

Truthfully he’s hard to be around, he tries to push you to the back of his mind, trying his best to accept you’re gone and that’s it but he can’t.

He’s in the infirmary one day, after literally being shot in the ass- he almost can’t believe what’s going on and refuses to believe it’s true. Ron for the first time feels weak and useless.

“Can somebody help?! Please!” A frantic calling from a more than familiar voice cries out as he’s laid on his side in the bed, curtains closed around his area.

This is the first thing that causes him to move. Ignoring all soreness (he probs just blocks out the pain) he crawls out of bed at the sounds of scurrying and desperate shouting of the medical staff.

Ron could’ve sworn that was your voice, and when he stands, opening the curtains and staring straight at you, he thinks he’s seen a ghost.

He mutters your name so quietly, but you look up, face dirty and slightly bruised and bloodied, uniform dusty with a GI woollen jumper hanging over your frame. Like you’re just looking at each other.

“Excuse me, please.” You’d just tell the medical staff, hurrying your way down the hospital, weaving passed people until you’re stepping closer and closer.

Ron’s breathing and heart increases in a state of shock and you nudge him back in, yanking the curtain shut before you just engulf one another in a hug.

“Ron.” You’d mutter through tears, he grips you even tighter, engulfing your smaller body. “I was so scared, Ron.”

He pulls back your face, his eyes wide and stunned before holding either side of your face and pulling you in for a deep, borderline desperate kiss.

It’s the best comfort either of you have had in days, and once your lips part you fall back into his arms.

He’s probably lost for words for the first few minutes, and he’ll become all teary eyes for the first time in front of you.

“Are you okay? What happened to you?” He speaks for the first time, checking over you worriedly after remembering you must’ve been in that shelled out hospital

“There was Germans… I took a patient and ran away in the bombings. We got lost- we only just got back here now. I don’t know if he’s okay or not.”

All he can do is comfort you and hold you close, still in a state of disbelief.

“Why-why are you in here? What’s wrong?” You’d eventually ask. “I was shot.” Ron spoke in a blasé manner. He didn’t care about himself, only you.

“Where?”

… “my ass.”

Babe Heffron:

Hear me out, you’re a little bit clumsy yet always careful with everybody’s life but seemingly your own?

Like you’ve been at war for 8 months or so and still Babe worries that you’ve stumbled onto enemy lines just because you went to find a man’s boots or something.

He looks out for you and takes care of you so much, like it’s so so sweet and everybody’s aware that you’re Babe’s girl, even if you keep it more or less hidden out of respect for the fraternisation rules.

Anyway, you’re assigned to second platoon & that’s how you and Babe got close initially, the second nurse was sadly lost, and ever since then in Bastogne, Babe has been extra worried that something might happen to you.

It’s the day after Jackson passed and everybody’s exhausted, even though they’ll be moving off the line, they’re all sick of war.

“Hey anybody seen y/n?” He’d glance around the room where she’d usually be hanging out when she wasn’t at the aid station.

“She’s not at the aid station?” Joe would ask.

“No.” Babe would frown, pushing himself up and heading out.

He tries not to panic at first, but admittingly he has an anxiety nibbling away at the back of his mind.

Something just feels off, you’re not at CP, at the infirmary, with the other nurses, where you’re billeted.

“Babe!” One of the nurses shrieks in surprise as he bursts into the house they were stationed in.

“Sorry, sorry. Anybody seen y/n?” None of them have, not since the early afternoon and it was nearing 6. Your duty ended three hours ago.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

(Okay this isn’t as extreme as some of the other cases, I wanted to change it up a bit)

20 minutes later he’s chain smoking like crazy, asking all the guys where the hell you were.

“Babe? What’re you yapping about?” Your voice appears, giggling as he snaps his head, almost doing a 360.

At first relief floods through him, but then he see’s your helping a limping soldier, bleeding just below your eyebrow.

“Jesus- what the hell?!” His voice raised, breath stuck in his chest.

“A little help here, Babe?”

After hooking up under the other side of the wounded back, he helps you both back to the aid station firing questions a million miles an hour in your direction.

“I’m fine, Babe.” You’d soothe. “What happened?! Where th’ hell were ya?!” He’d take both your shoulders, holding his hand over the cut on your forehead, in an attempt to apply pressure.

“Babe-” you’d swat his hand away, becoming distracted with the sight behind you. Clearly you didn’t realise how worried he was.

“Ya shouldn’t run off like that!”

“Babe-”

“Ya got me worried sick!”

“Edward! His leg is crushed! Let me go help!”

“Edward?!”

“Wait here, alright? I’ll be 10 minutes.”

Babe waits, watching you help some of the other nurses and medics with the man you both carried inside, tending to what looked to be a badly wounded leg. He grimaced and turned away, growing an even more profound respect for you (if that was even possible).

When you’re done you head straight back to him. “Sorry, Babe, his leg was so-” You go to hold his arm but instead he turns, engulfing you in a bone crushing hug.

“I thought I’d lost ya, never do that again.”

Finally, you’d silence and realise just how worried he was. He was border lining upset, his frustration had dissolved and turned into pure relief.

“I’m okay.” You’d whisper, leading him to the quieter area of the porch.

“Where were ya?” He’d glance over you, checking head to toe everything was okay, hands still on your forearms.

“I went to get some supplies, then I found him- his leg was stuck under rubble. I couldn’t just leave him.”

“What ‘bout ya head?”

“I knocked myself in the face, you know what I’m like.”

“Oh thank god, ya scared me, angel.”

Ugh he’s such a sweetheart, just apologise to him and promise you won’t do that again without telling him.

[hottpinkpenguin]

Easy Company HCs: Coming Home To You After the War

A/n: ahhhh my first time writing for a new fandom always makes me nervous. I'm rewatching BoB for probably the 5th or 6th time and just felt compelled to start writing for some of these incredible characters. please note all writings are based solely on the BoB TV characters and not the actual veterans. Let me know if you want any other BoB HC's or oneshots!

*Please refer to each character for warnings*

Dick Winters Warnings: angsty Major Winters, vague references to PTSD/war trauma

Dick is standing outside on the deck of the ship before the sun is up on the day they’re due into port. He can’t stop looking towards the horizon, waiting for the shoreline to swim into view.

He’s melancholy, thoughtful. Reflects on all he’s seen in the war. He feels different than how he was when he left almost 3 years ago. He thinks about all the men he left behind in Normandy, in Foy, in Bastogne, in Holland, in Hagenau, in Germany. And he looks around at the men whose bodies are coming home, but who lost pieces of themselves in foxholes, in the bombed out streets of Europe, on the beaches. 

He also finds himself wondering what it’s been like for you. He hasn’t thought about that much, hasn’t let himself think on it too hard. He feels ashamed that he never asked much in his letters about how you were. He knows it was to protect himself. If he’d asked, and if you’d been honest and told him about the rationing, the fear, how many of your friends were losing their brothers, husbands, and lovers overseas, the suicides of the men who couldn’t go… well, Dick knew he’d have been distracted. And distracted leaders got men killed. So Dick had sealed off his thoughts on that account. He knew it was the right choice. But now, he doubted. 

So as the ship pulls into port, he’s sad in a broken way. Like the war has finally caught up with him. And he’s terrified, suddenly. How is he going to see you like this? What are you going to see in him when you finally do? More importantly, what are you not going to see? 

He lets all of his men debark before him. Partially because that’s what a good officer does, but partially to try and collect himself. 

You know what to expect. You know Dick Winters isn’t going to really stop fighting the war until he sees every last man in Easy Company off that ship and safely home. So you wait. You’ve waited this long, after all. You can wait another thirty minutes.

When you finally see him in the thinning crowd, you call out his name and break into a beaming smile. He’s here, he’s home. He’s safe. 

As soon as he sees you, the ice in his veins thaws. The sun is warm on his skin, he’s surrounded by clean sea air far from the burnt out husk of Europe, and you’re there. You’re smiling at him. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen something so singularly beautiful.

He strives over to you, taking his cap off as he approaches. His stomach is flipping like a schoolboy and he couldn’t keep the smile from his face if he had an entire firing squad of Krauts in front of him. 

You run the last few dozen paces into his arms. He catches you easily, spinning you around with a long, languid sigh of contentment. Your laughter is like a peeling bell in his ear. 

Richard, how dare you make me wait? you tease him. 

He can’t find any words except to smile at you, looking into your eyes, memorizing your smile, reacquainting himself with the dusting of freckles across your nose, the scent of your shampoo, basking in the feeling of you in his arms. He smiles, then laughs. Your hands frame his face and suddenly he’s kissing you. 

Dick Winters’ mind goes blissfully blank. The harsh edges of all his worries, his responsibilities, the burden of leading a company of men and ordering some of them to their deaths. It’s all soft now. There’s just you. You and that piece of land he’s been dreaming about.

Lewis Nixon Warnings: alcohol abuse, war-time violence, detailed reference to parental suicide

Lewis Nixon came back from the front with an exorbitant amount of contraband, shadows in the back of his eyes, and a terrible drinking habit. You had no idea what to do with any of it.

Two months after his return and you found yourself staring out across a sea of boxes piled haphazardly in the foyer of the summer home Lew had bought you for your six-month wedding anniversary. Your home had never been more crowded, and yet you’d never felt so lonely. 

You wiped the damp tea towel you’d soaked in the kitchen sink against the back of your neck in a vain attempt to keep the heat at bay. 

Lew! you called up to him, although you knew he wouldn’t answer. A brief glance at the clock - 2:15 pm - told you as much. Since coming back, Lew hadn’t woken up before 3:00 pm and you’d yet to share a goodnight kiss with him because he was liable to stay out until sunrise. Doing what, you’d rather not know. 

With a weighty sigh, you decided you might as well pick a box and get started. Otherwise, this ridiculous maze of illegally shipped stolen goods would just go to rot in your foyer. And with your in-laws due in next month to visit your shell of a husband, you’d better try to clean up the mess. 

You chose the box closest to you. It came up to your waist. As you ripped into it, you realized it was incredibly heavy, and you heard the unmistakable tinkling of glass on glass. You sliced the tape open with the boxcutter, marveling at how sharply the instrument cut into the flesh of the tape and cardboard. One of the first few nights after arriving back home, Lew had managed to stay at home and get drunk rather than do so out on the town. Somewhere between bottle three and four of the Chateau Rhone that you’d served at the reception, Lew had started to talk. Once he’d started, he hadn’t seemed willing to stop, as if he had one chance to pour out all the misery and regret and terror he’d accumulated in Europe. You remembered that at one point - one of his more lucid memories, when the slur in his words was light enough for you to understand him - he’d told you that he had seen a whole platoon of men shredded to ribbons by a Kraut tank. He’d recounted in excruciating detail how one of their fingers had landed on him, the blood and sinew drying on his uniform like an adhesive, and he hadn’t noticed it until the next day. You’d never seen anything quite so distasteful or violent in your life, but you imagined that it might be something like watching someone get sliced apart the way your boxcutter glided through tape.

With a shiver, you sheathed the blade and set the boxcutter aside to rip into the contents of the box. Tipping the heavy box sideways a bit, you spooned out the top layer of packing peanuts to reveal a familiar sight. Four corked bottles of wine sat at the top of the box. You stopped, staring down at the wine in the box in disbelief. This was the precious contraband that Lewis had spent thousands on to smuggle out of Europe? Fucking wine?

Your temper flamed to life with a vengeance. You pushed the heavy box over, letting loose a scream of frustration as you did. One of the bottles shattered as the box tipped over, a puddle of red wine staining the white marble floor. Once again, your mind flashed back to the war. Not to Lew’s memories, but your own. To the black-and-white films you’d seen in the theaters, to the newspaper clippings, to the reports that had come out of Germany about the death camps and the killing fields and the brutality of the war, to the letters your brother had written to you before his death at St. Vith. You thought of all the men you’d known who hadn’t come home - your brother Johnny, your childhood neighbor Tim Viens, your cousins Luis and Giovanni, the florist’s son from your hometown, your girl friend Jill’s fiance… 

Your head was spinning and your blood was boiling as you summited the stairs to the darkened upstairs two at a time. When you flung open the door to Lew’s study where he’d taken to sleeping, you were seeing black at the edges of your vision.

Lewis fucking Nixon, you better wake the fuck up or so help me God I will strangle you in your sleep!

The words flew off your tongue faster than you knew what to do with. You’d never had a foul mouth, and you’d certainly never threatened your husband before. Despite his obvious hangover, he snapped to wakefulness faster than you’d expected him to. He regarded you with a wary, tired expression, and you wondered for a half second if he was going to ask you to make good on your threat. 

Saints above woman, what is it? he demanded, reaching around the graveyard of beer and wine bottles strewn about the floor next to him. You noticed a particularly foul smell in the room at the same time you noticed the stain of vomit caked on one of the pillows he’d propped under his head. 

The sight of your husband fumbling around for another drink at 2:30 in the afternoon with vomit caked on his cheek did something to you. You weren’t sure if the sight broke you or if it snapped you into form. Whatever it did, it took the wind out of the hateful words that had been boiling in your gut. You snapped your mouth shut as you became acutely aware that you had nothing left to say to him. You’d said it all already. You’d cried, threatened, screamed, pleaded, reasoned, demanded, and done just about everything you could think of in your power to bring Lewis Nixon back to something resembling sense. You weren’t without feeling - you knew that he wasn’t the only man who hadn’t fully come back from the front. Memories of your father’s glassy, empty-looking eyes flicked in your mind like a silent movie. Your father never really left the trenches, your mother used to say by way of explanation and apology. Some men just can’t come home after a war like that. 

The last memory you have of your father was the sight of him leaned back in his chair, his head bent away from his neck at an unnatural angle, with a ghoulish bloodstain on his chest from the hole his pistol had left where he’d fired it under his chin and up into his skull. You’d found him like that when you were just six years old. At almost twenty six now, you were resolved never to see someone you love waste away like that again. Yet here you were, watching someone who’d once been your brash, fun-loving, hot-headed husband fade away like a ghost.

As Lew braced for what he felt sure was going to be a proper dressing down, you felt yourself deflate like a punctured balloon. Something final and irrevocable had happened in those few moments since you’d come running up the stairs, and you knew deep in your bones that there was no going back. 

I’m leaving. 

It was all you could say. Lewis looked over at you through slitted eyes, stifling down an acidic belch as he tried to figure out your angle. Usually your arguments started with much more heat than this, but he wasn’t sober enough to hear the goodbye in your tone. 

After a few agonizing moments, he grunted at you by way of dismissal. Get me some Vat 69, while you’re out. Vat 69 was the only thing that Lewis Nixon had asked from you since he’d gotten back to the States. 

You didn’t have the heart to answer him, so you just turned on your heel, letting the boxcutter that you hadn’t even realized you’d been gripping like a vice slide out of your hand and land with a thump on the carpet. 

You descended the stairs with a strange buzzing in your head. You wondered if you should pack something, although you realized that all you really wanted to was to get as far away from the time bomb that was Lewis Nixon as fast as you possibly could. You called your mother from the kitchen phone. She didn’t need to hear you say the words to know what had happened. Come on home honey,  she said gently. I’ll make your favorite key lime pie. The kind and simple gesture brought tears to your eyes.

After a few minutes to gather the essentials - your wallet, your pearls, your father’s WWI medals - you thought of one more phone call to make. A parting kindness, you thought, as you sifted through the Rolodex you kept next to the phone until you found the card you wanted. 

The phone rang twice before a voice you knew well picked up. 

Hello? Dick, it’s me, it’s y/n Nixon. Listen, you better come get Lew. He’s… he’s not well. And I’m leaving. 

You didn’t wait for a reply before you clicked the receiver. If there was any saving of Lewis Nixon now, it wouldn’t be by you. 

With one final glance at the house and the sad trove of memories it contained, you closed the door on your past and left, hoping that both you and Lew would find some corner of peace to spend the rest of your days. 

Ronald Speirs Warnings: smut, sweet baby boy Speirs

Ron doesn’t even tell you that he’s coming home. You know it’ll be soon, and you’re waiting for a letter. None come. Years of waiting, years of him faithfully writing, years of dreaming and praying for this day. Now? Radio silence. 

So when this man shows up at your door, his duty bag in one hand and his hat in the other, the first thing you can do is scream at him. 

Ronald fucking Speirs! You didn’t fucking write me, I thought you were dead or lost or just done with me! Why didn’t you tell me! You fucking bastard, you utter fucking bastard! 

You’re hitting him and screaming and tears are everywhere. Ron just smiles. You’re precisely how he remembers you. Better even. 

He wraps you up in a hug, so tight that you can’t move. You’re still struggling, wiggling and sobbing into his shirt, trying to beat your fists against him. 

When you feel him kiss the top of your head, it all just melts. Your knees buckle and instead of beating on him you’re clinging to him. Realization hits you in waves. Ron is home. Those are Ron’s arms around you. Ron’s voice murmuring into your ear. Ron’s breath on your forehead. 

When you finally look up to him - eyes bloodshot, nose running, mascara streaking, cheeks tear stained and red - Ron smiles down at you. My beautiful girl, he says softly before catching your lips in a kiss. Everything breaks loose in that kiss. You practically want to crawl into his mouth. It’s all need: lips devouring each other, hands grabbing and nails dragging, tongues invading each other. Ron moans and you’re done, you’re a mess. 

He knows. He pushes you across the doorway, his hat and duty bag long forgotten on the porch, lifts you up and carries you to the nearest couch, undressing on the way. He rips your blouse, knocks over one of your side tables when he kicks off his shoe, and almost drops you to let you rip off his belt. 

Ron’s home to you when he slams inside of you. Your thoughts disintegrate as the two of you collide together, alternating between frenzied ferocious fucking and softer sweeter sensuality as lust, love, longing and whatever lives between those things rips open the walls you’d both built up around your hearts. 

But Ron isn’t home until after, long after, hours even. The house is trashed, clothes and pillows and furniture disheveled and everywhere. You’re both in bed, exhausted from countless rounds of tangling, with dawn threatening. You’re asleep, and Ron’s watching you dream. There’s a small crease between your eyebrows, and you’re muttering. You look troubled; and he wonders if he should wake you. He can’t stand the sight of you in anything resembling pain. But then, suddenly, you roll towards him, your head settling on his chest and one of your legs slung over his. 

Your face relaxes. You nuzzle into him. You sigh, a gentle smile on your lips. The crease is gone, your face smooth and peaceful. 

He marvels. His head tips back against the headboard, looking down at you in awe as a distinct wave of content washes over and through him.

Ronald Speirs is finally home.

Carwood Lipton Warnings: just Lip and his perpetual angel-status <3

Lip is standing with the throng of men on the deck, watching as they pull into port. The crowd below is cheering and waving American flags, popping off champagne, and the women are waving handkerchiefs. There’s a band somewhere playing patriotic songs and jaunty marches. Home has never looked so good.

‘Ey, Lip, I think I see your girl

It’s Malarkey who spies her - why and how he picked her out so easily, Lip didn't rightfully know nor want to know. But Malarkey was right, there she was.

White ribbons in her hair, white dress on, white handkerchief waving. She’s craning over the other sweethearts and mothers and fathers, eyes combing the deck of the ship. Her expression - impatient longing - snaps Lip in two. How the hell did he ever leave that girl halfway across the world?

Carwood?! Carwood Lipton?! 

He can’t hear her, but he sees her lips moving and he knows that she’s calling out his name. He doubts that any of the deck goers are having luck finding their men that way. The ship is alive with soldiers and airmen buzzing with excitement, calling out to the shore and cheering. The dock is no less vibrant, so the entire place is drowning in the sounds of joy.

Lip stares at her, unwilling to lose sight of her ever again. He vaguely registers the ship jolting to a halt at its berth, the enormous horn announcing the official arrival and, for all the men on board, the uproarious end to the war from Hell. Lip exchanges hugs, slaps on the back, firm handshakes with the men of Easy. It’s strange to have so many painful goodbyes at the same time as a long-awaited hello, but Lip knows he’ll see these men again. He can’t imagine life without them, just like he can’t imagine living without her.

The crowd of soldiers and airmen begins to move, a mass of jumbled emotions with a healthy sprinkling of joy. He watches as the first few men off the ship are swept up into the awaiting crowd as they step off the planks. He can still see her, a beacon of white. An angel, he realizes. 

He shuffles forward with the rest of the disembarking ranks. The process is painfully slow, and he’s not close enough to call out to her yet. He tries to catch her eye with a few waves, but he can only imagine how many waving hands and beaming faces she can see at once. She’s almost passed him on the dock, and Lip feels himself losing patience with the slowness of the men around him. He contemplates yelling at the men to keep it moving or don’t stand at the end of the ramp, but he doesn’t. He can’t bear to ruin a moment of this, for anyone. 

Suddenly, she sees him. Her hands fly to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes. That handkerchief blots at her face. She’s gone quiet; just staring at him, waiting. He waves at her, swallowing down the tears threatening in his eyes. She waves back, unsure whether to laugh or cry, so she ends up doing both. Once again, Lip wonders how he’d ever left her. He realizes he’ll never be able to again. He’s stuck to her like glue now, it can’t be helped. And he’s got his eye on a ring. He’ll buy it tomorrow, he decides. Maybe even today, if he can find a jeweler. No more wasted time.  

The wait is agonizing. Every few minutes, she waves at him again, as if afraid that he’ll disappear like a ghost. He can’t stop smiling at her. He doesn’t notice, but the Easy men all softly agree that they’ve never seen this Lip before. A smile reserved all for her.

He steps off the ramp and she’s there, pushed through the crowd. He envelopes her in his arms as she peppers his face and neck with kisses. Soggy ones, from the tears. His or hers, anybody’s guess. She keeps repeating his name like a prayer and a plea. He holds her as she comes undone in his arms, body-wracking sobs and her head buried in his neck. He tells her it’s alright, I’m home and it makes her squeal with delight. Then they’re both laughing. He carries her a bit, not trusting her legs quite yet, and honestly unsure if he trusts himself to walk without her weight in his arms holding him to Earth. She babbles, he listens, she asks something, he talks. It’s easy - so easy - and Carwood Lipton feels himself stepping back into himself after so many years of being Lip and First Sergeant. 

Her hand in his, they walk the streets of this strange town that neither of them are from, but yet somehow always find themselves feeling right at home. He has to squeeze her hand every once in a while to remind himself that she’s real, and he’s really here, and the war is behind him. All day and late into the evening, Lipton and his girl stroll together, two friends, two lovers, one very happy ending. 

Buck Compton Warnings: cursing, references to alcohol abuse

No one’s there at the train depot when Buck gets home. His mother is tied up taking care of his baby sister and her new baby, sick with colic, and his dad is too frail to make the forty-minute trip by car to the station. And you’re done with him, as of Christmas time. 

Some homecoming.

He wanders through the town’s sleepy Main Street, killing time before his brother-in-law’s shift ends at the munitions factory and he can pick Buck up. It’s a hot day, sweat runs down his back. It reminds him of Toccoa. He chuckles darkly, grateful that he’s not running up Currahee with Sobel’s sour puss hot on his heels. He’s grateful for a moment, but then he wonders if maybe those were the best days of his life, and he just didn’t know it. So far, the end of the war hasn’t brought much happiness his way. Maybe the best is behind him already. 

He stops for a root beer float at the local soda counter. He brought you here for the first date. He still remembered that your lips tasted like strawberry milkshake later when he’d parked his truck in front of an empty cornfield and kissed you until he was dizzy. He knows he’ll never be able to order a strawberry milkshake again.  

A couple of the old men sitting in the window side booths nod at him, one even pays for his tab. Buck thanks them but makes no move to engage in conversation. He’s not gloomy, exactly. Just lonely. He thinks about Joe Toye and Bill Guarnere, about the marrow-deep cold of Bastogne, and about just how far away he feels from the taste of strawberry on your tongue. Despite the scorching summer heat, he suppresses a shiver. 

Buck’s sitting on a bench in front of the depot when his brother-in-law pulls up. 

Hey Buck! Welcome home, buddy.

Thanks, Dickie.

His sister’s husband has a noticeable limp, one of his legs visibly wasted and bent at an unnatural angle from the knee down. Bike accident when he was six, kept him out of the war. From his sisters letters, Buck knows that Dickie’s been hitting the bottle hard after he got 4F’ed and told under no uncertain terms that he won’t fight for Uncle Sam. Buck can see the strain in Dickie’s smile, the dark bags under his eyes and the faint stain of gray at his temples. Buck feels about three decades older than when he left home, but Dickie looks it. 

The ride home is quiet. Buck asks after his sister, Dickie asks after the war. Neither of them really listen to the answers. 

When Dickie cuts the engine off in front of Buck’s parents’ place, the porch light is on and there’s a lamp in the front room window, shining merrily. Buck sighs deeply. He’d expected to come home to you, a little apartment somewhere. He’d planned on picking up his life from there, but instead he’s here, looking at a place he calls home without feeling at home. He thinks he might prefer a cot in Toccoa, or a hot cot on a transport ship, or maybe even a foxhole. 

Aight Buck, you take it easy. I’ll see you ‘round. Make sure you stop in and see Kitty soon, she’s dying to see ya.

Sure, Dickie. Thanks for the lift. 

The sun is setting fast behind the mountains. Cicadas are beginning to strum and the fireflies dance in the fields gone farrow behind the house. Buck climbs up the front steps, his duty bag slung over one shoulder. 

Buck?

He freezes where he is, hand outstretched towards the doorknob. It can’t be… can it?

He hears the creak of the swing from the darkened corner of the porch as you stand up. 

Welcome home, Buck.

It is you. Buck is still frozen, his upper lip beginning to tremble. He wished it were darker, wished the damn light was off so you wouldn’t have to see him like this. He feels the boards vibrate as you step towards him, hesitating at his side.

I’m sorry, Buck. I… I made a mistake…

A tear slips out. He swipes at it angrily. What the hell is he crying for? he wonders. 

It’s just that Louise told me she read in a magazine that it’s harder for the men sometimes if they’re worried about someone back home and in your letters you were just always asking about me and how I was and what I was doing and I just knew that you were going through it, Buck, you know, I read the news and I knew you were right on the front lines and I started thinking about you being out there and distracted and what would happen if you lost your focus at the wrong time and you got shot or you got hit by a grenade or a sniper and I thought about losing you, Buck, and I just couldn’t, I couldn’t lose you, and I started to think maybe I needed to make it easier on you and I wrote you that awful letter and it was terrible Buck it was so bad and I hated writing it and I hated sending it but I convinced myself I had to and-

Buck silenced you by pressing his lips to yours mid-sentence. Whatever other explanations and apologies you had died in your mouth with a soft whimper, and suddenly your hands were traveling up his arms and tickling the base of his neck and you were sighing like you hadn’t really exhaled in months. Buck swallowed it up, kissing you deeply and gently. He didn’t know how to say that he didn’t care about all that, that all he wanted was you with him. The rest would work itself out. Buck knew from the war that if you surrounded yourself with good people, then you could get through anything. 

He laughed when he tasted the strawberry milkshake on your lips. Smiling against your mouth, he broke the kiss and held you in his arms, his hands at the small of your back. 

Why are you laughing you ask incredulously. Did you hear what I said? aren’t you mad? You hadn’t expected this reaction. In fact, you’d prepared yourself for Buck to be so furious that he wouldn’t even speak with you. It was less than half of what you felt you deserved. 

Buck just shook his head, smiling to himself at a private joke. You wondered if he was laughing at how easily you fell for that kiss before he told you to take a hike and disappeared from your life forever. 

Mad? He sounds incredulous, like that’s the most ridiculous question anyone’s ever asked him. 

Yeah, Buck. I mean… I know I broke your heart.

He doesn’t deny it, just nods simply and looks deep into your eyes.

Don’t leave me again, darlin’, and I’ll consider it even.

You can’t reply because his lips are on yours again. All you can do is smile as you kiss your apology into Buck’s mouth until the sunset has faded and his dad calls out to the two of you to come inside already!

Bull Randleman Warnings: angst (you have been warned!!)

Something strange happened to Bull in the convent at Foy. He hadn’t expected it. But suddenly, there you were. Sitting in the back of his mind like an itch he just couldn’t scratch. His third grade crush from Ms. Wheeler’s class. And his eighth grade crush. And his prom date. 

Bull grew up in a small town, and it had only gotten smaller to him since he’d left. Sometimes in quieter moments he’d wondered if he’d ever be able to go back home. He’d seen a lot of the world - granted, most of it with the threat of German artillery at his back - but still. His hometown felt so far away and so small that he couldn’t imagine fitting the size of his memories back there. 

And yet, sitting there in the dim candlelight of that convent, listening to those angelic voices, that tiny podunk town was all he could think of. Why couldn’t he remember the name of that street, the one with the post office on it? And what was the name of those neighbors with the herd of basset hounds? He couldn’t recall what kind of flowers his Ma planted in front of the house, facing due east. Bull realized that he was forgetting home, and it opened a gaping wound in his heart.

One thing he did remember clearly was you. He hadn’t seen you in a long time, maybe not for months before he’d signed up for the 101st. You’d been working at the florist right off 1st Street the last he’d heard. Why he hadn’t looked in on you after high school, he couldn’t say. He’d been sweet on you back then, puppy love head-over-heels type stuff. You were his first kiss, his first date, his first of just about everything. Including his first love.

Somewhere along the way, Bull had gotten the hare-brained idea that he’d outgrown you. He’d stopped calling, stopped asking you out to the movies or to the diner. He remembered how he’d seen you out one night, his arm slung over some other girl that his buddy had set him up with. He remembered the way you’d stared with your lip shaking, your eyes welling with tears, before you’d practically run off into the Sears department store. Bull knew damn well you couldn’t afford anything in Sears; all of the money you’d ever made working as an English tutor and a nanny went to taking care of your eleven foster siblings. He knew you ran in there just to get away from him. At the time, he’d laughed about it. He’d told himself you’d be fine, you’d grow up eventually and get over it. He told himself that’s exactly what he’d done - grown up - but now he realized quite the opposite. He’d been intimidated by how much he’d liked you, how much he’d thought about you and worried after you and how scared he’d been when he’d realized that he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed you anymore. You with your hand-me-down dresses and your sweet, shy smile and your head always in the clouds of a romance novel. His buddies had commented on it, and suddenly Bull had felt jealous, insecure even. He’d hated it, and he’d run from it. 

But that night in Foy, you were the only place his mind could land. You were all he thought of. And he’d promised himself that if he somehow managed to walk out of hell at the end of the war, that he’d ask you out again. Who knew what you were up to now. He thought he remembered his Ma make an off-hand comment that you’d started working at the hospital in the next town over, but he couldn’t be sure. But Bull knew you’d be back in that small town, probably just as sweet as ever. And if you gave him another chance, he’d never let you go again.

Three days after stepping foot back in the States, and Bill was standing outside your house in his Army dress uniform, a bouquet of orange lilies in his hands. He wondered if you’d remember that he’d gotten you those same flowers for your prom corsage. They’d stood out against the baby pink of your dress that you’d borrowed from your cousin. Every time Bull saw a sunset or a flower bed, he thought of you. In fact, there wasn’t much that Bull saw these days that didn’t make him think of you.

He knocked three times sharply on the door. Your house looked just the same as ever: the front porch sagged in the middle, the curtains drawn and stained, the paint peeling. There was a ruckus inside, and what sounded to be about a dozen kids all screamed out “DOOR!” 

A severe woman with dark gray hair slicked back into a tight bun answered. Her mouth was a thin, straight gash and her eyes narrowed in something between distaste and disbelief. She glanced down at the flowers in Bull’s hands and at the sharp, crisply ironed lines of his uniform.

Mother Beatrice, Bull said with a slight bow. Not sure if you remember me, ma’am, but I-

I remember you. Randelman, right? You here for the girl? 

Your foster mother looked older but her manner was as cold and loveless as ever. She never used names for the children she took in - just called them by various impersonal monikers. For some reason, yours had always been “the girl”. Bull wasn’t the only one who’d overlooked you.  

He nodded, thinking that if Easy had Mother Beatrice in their ranks then Germany might have fallen about a year earlier. He’d have to be sure to tell you that. He was certain you would laugh.

I wondered if anyone would come Mother Beatrice commented as she shut the door behind her, muffling the sounds of screeching children. She walked down the front porch steps and turned towards the back of the old farmhouse without a backwards glance. Bull followed, his brow furrowing slightly at her cryptic comment. He figured you might have had a few pen pals on the front, some girls would do that sort of thing, write to strangers to try and keep their spirits up. He’d heard that some of the men had made a point to look in on their pen pals when they’d gotten back home. Maybe that’s what she meant.

She’s back here? Bull asked, taking in the sight of the rundown farmhouse-turned-orphanage and its weedy lawn. As long as he’d known you, he’d never known you to linger here. Too loud, no privacy you’d always told him. Bull usually found you in the library or a park bench. Somewhere quiet. 

Mother Beatrice nodded, shooting him a strangely exasperated look. Course she is, where else would she go? The girl doesn’t have any other home.

Bull chewed his lip thoughtfully. He supposed that was true. Maybe things had changed. 

Mother Beatrice led him around the backside of the dingy farmhouse, past a rundown chicken coop with a few mangy looking birds pecking at the dirt. There was a dilapidated stable off in the distance with one bony mare grazing on the tall grass and an overgrown vegetable garden. The tree line off in the distance looked ominously dark, like a line of guards sent to make sure the misery of this place didn’t spread.

Mother Beatrice stopped short, and Bull almost walked into her. There she is.

Bull looked around but didn’t see you. In addition to the forlorn horse, the garden and the coop, he noted a greenhouse missing more windows than it had and a towering oak tree reaching up for the sky as if running away from the unfortunate place it’d been planted. But no sign of you anywhere

Mother Beatrice looked at him intently for a moment, making Bull squirm in his boots, before sharply turning on her heel to leave. She called back to him at the base of the tree and vanished around the side of the house. 

Alone at last, Bull looked at the shadowy trunk but didn’t see anything. Must be around the backside, he reasoned. He started walking towards the tree, but a strange quiet settled over him. Suddenly, his collar felt too tight and his chest felt hollow. Something wasn’t right.

As he approached the tree, he began to make out what Mother Beatrice was referring to. He could hardly believe his eyes, and with each step forward he felt his feet grow heavier as if his boots were filled with lead. About ten paces from the trunk, he stopped, unable to go any closer. His shoulders sagged and he felt the bouquet slip out of his hands.

There you were, your name staring back at him from the headstone. 

Y/n Y/l/n October 11, 1924-January 9, 1945 Army Nurse Corps May she rest in the peace of the Lord

Bull wasn’t sure how long he stared at the stone. At your name. At the words Army Nurse Corps. Bull hadn’t known you were a nurse. He hadn’t remembered your birthday. He realized he’d been misspelling your last name this whole time.

Bull stood and stared until the light was almost gone from the sky. The sound of Mother Beatrice ringing a bell and calling out dinner! from the front porch jarred him out of his reverie. He hastily wiped the tears that had long ago dried on his face, feeling out of place and like an unwelcome intruder. 

He left without saying goodbye. He did manage to tilt the bouquet against your headstone, and run his fingers over the cold edges of your name cut into the marble. He didn’t feel entitled to much else. 

It wasn’t until he was home that night, deeper into a bottle of whiskey than a grieving man ought to be, when he realized something.

January 9th, 1945. The day you’d died. It was the same day he’d sat in that convent outside Foy, listening to that angelic choir, reminiscing about you and imagining a future that would never come to be.

***********************************************************************

Still working on... Joseph Liebgott Doc Roe Maybe David Webster too? *let me know if you have any other requests

[ithinkabouttzu]

HI IT’S KAY!! ok here’s my request

a fellow soldier is shot in the chest, the men rip their clothes off like usual to attend to the wound, not thinking twice about it, and then… BAM! TITS! how do the men of easy company react?

Easy co. finding out you’re a girl!

A/n: Thank you for requesting Kay! You’re the best ;)) @saintmalosunsets

genre: comedy/romance? (i’m not even sure what this is tbh)

warnings: innuendos, mentions of blood and war. (fem! reader, but anyone can read!)

Description: The men finding out that their comrade was secretly a girl after opening their shirt to tend to a wound (mulan style)

taglist: @executethyself35 @linhkhanhcps @1waveshortofashipwreck @grumpy-liebgott @barbeygirl @samwinchesterslostshoe @ronsenthal @sweetxvanixlla @mstiemountainhop (If you want to be on this list, let me know!! :))

BoB masterlist

Dick Winters: To put it wisely, he’s worried, very worried. He’s of course not going to show you or any of the other men that, but he is. I think he probably would've had suspicions before, either that or he flat out knew you were a girl but didn’t say anything for your safety and protection. When he hears of some of the men uncovering your secret he’s there at the scene immediately, his first instinct is to protect you and ask questions later. “Everyone get away from her! Are you alright, miss?” He might develop just a teeny tiny crush that only nix knows about too lol.

Lewis Nixon: I mean guys, he’s an intelligence officer, so of course he’s also gonna have some suspicion like Dick, but he won’t pry on the subject, if you are a girl, who cares? As long as you’re putting in the effort, he really doesn’t give a shit. When you’re hurt and they rip open your shirt all he can say is, “Damn” It’s obvious that he isn’t surprised by the fact that you’re a girl but by the fact that they’re there lmao. He’ll treat you the same afterwards and will probs try and matchmake you and Dick.

Carwood Lipton: He would be blushing so bad, he immediately takes off his jacket and gives it to you so that you have some proper clothing. “You’re a girl?” He is surprised at the fact that he didn't catch it sooner tbh. As soon as he knows you’re okay, all he wants to do is protect you away from the other guys and make sure you are taken care of. “If any of the guys bother you, let me know, okay?” I think he’d be the sweetest about the whole situation, He’d be the type to get you tampons if you were too shy to ask Roe.

Joe Toye: He can’t help but stare, only for like a few seconds though before Roe tells him to cut it out, once he’s brought back out of his trance I think he would make sure you are okay, doing whatever the Doc tells him to do until he knows you will be fine. Afterwards, he tries not to be too different around you. He can’t help but scold himself when he swears around you because he doesn’t wanna make you uncomfortable. He’s like your little body guard that follows you around (That is also secretly in love with you haha.) making sure none of the guys are trying anything stupid.

Joe Liebgott: He hates to be like some weirdo, and he doesn’t mean to stare, he just does accidentally. Absolute bliss would be the proper word to describe his face when your shirt rips open. He quickly beat himself up about it afterwards and makes sure to stay focused on your health and see if you are okay or not. While you’re gone at the aid station he would be a worried mess, his exact words would be, “Pretty girls like her need to be protected at all times”, He stress smokes until you are back, when you are back he’s apologizing to you about staring earlier. (Also like the others, he’s madly in love with you lmao)

Bill Guarnere: Surprisingly, I don’t think he would look as much as the other guys would, his first priority is your safety, and until you are for sure going to be okay, he’s not going to be thinking of anything else. His reaction is a bit late though, like he doesn’t fully realize that you’re a girl, and what he saw earlier was NOT pecks, until you are gone with Roe. He will swear to keep your secret safe with him, your friendship would have either two scenarios: one would be him flirting with you 24/7 until you give him at least one shot. Two would be him taking you in as his little sis and protecting you at all costs. (He would protect you for both tho for sure)

George Luz: He’s like Lieb in this situation (Like a lot of the other guys lmao) he’s in a trance, only a second before he makes himself snap out of it. He’s so surprised though, like, he genuinely had no idea?? It’s such a shock that he has to take a second and process all the information lol. After you come back from being hurt, be ready to be asked a million questions by the one and only George Luz, he’s gotta know how you did it, acting like a boy for so long. From then on, he will be at your beckon call whenever you need him.

Bull Randleman: Before even thinking about it, this gentleman is taking off his shirt and wrapping it around you so that you don’t feel uncomfortable while Roe is wrapping your wounds. He would be shocked but also not really? He always just assumed you were more of a feminine guy and had no problem with it, but after you get hurt then it starts to make a bit more sense of you being a girl. When you get back from the hospital, he's joining Toye as another one of your body guards, absolutely no one is bothering you anytime soon.

Eugene Roe: He’s shocked, very very shocked, but he continues to do his job and make sure you are okay first before anything else. If anyone tried to bother you during your recovery all he would say is “Leave the her alone.” (cue the infamous death stare) Like some of the others, he’s got your back 24/7. You need tampons? he’s got them. You need any kind of feminine products? He’ll get them for you. On a weekend back from Paris, He’d probably gift you a bracelet or something sweet like that. (He also likes you but keeps it strictly professional until the war is over.)

Floyd Talbert: When he opens your shirt and sees everything, no joke this man almost passes out, he doesn't mean to disrespect you at all, and feels kinda like he did for ripping your shirt without any questions, he’s also very overwhelmed at the moment, he’ll have to take a step back and let Roe take over so he can take a sip of water (The mans thirsty alright?) Whenever you come back he’d honestly get shy around you at first (Which is very unlike him lol) but it's easy to say he catches feelings for you after what happened.

Skip Muck: He does NOT believe it's real at all. “Did Malark tell you to prank me? This is gotta be the best one yet!” He’s sure you’re messing with him until he sees that you’re actually hurt and in pain, then he starts freaking out. Once he knows you were okay though he would probably ask you a bunch of questions like luz, he’d also be apologizing for all the times he’s said some inappropriate shit in front of you lmao. He’s left 10 bucks less than before your secret (Yes him and the mortar boys betted on it) “I told you she was a girl!”

Don Malarkey: When your shirt pops open, his eyes pop so far out of his head, like it is so obvious that he likes what he sees. When he sees you are in actual pain though he quits the bullshit and offers you some support, (completely feels bad about looking earlier) he would be the sweetest, all of a sudden he’d start stuttering because he’s so nervous? “Yo-you’re gonna be okay, alright sweetie?” Once you’re away at the hospital he starts feeling horrible for all of the times he’s done or said some embarrassing stuff lol. He apologizes when you return with the guys, (Whilst also being super in love with you like the rest of the fellows)

Babe Heffron: “Oh geez” Like Floyd, he’d feel like passing out. This would be a COMPLETE shock to him, like he is genuinely so surprised he doesn't even know what to say. He makes sure you are okay before saying anything though, he doesn’t wanna make you uncomfortable but he doesn't want to act like it never happened. When you come back from the hospital he’s definitely gonna say some sweet but corny shit like, “You’ll always be like a little brother to me, no matter what you are.” This guy is your wingman when you need one for sure.

Shifty Powers: Like Lip, he’s looking away from your body to give you that privacy, he’s surprised, but he wouldn't wanna show you that and make you uncomfortable. It is obvious that he is blushing badly though. He would take off his shirt to wrap it around your body for the extra privacy (When Roe got you all fixed up.) Once you come back from the aid station he is the guy you go to whenever you need someone to talk to, he’s not a girl, but he’s so understanding and sweet, probably the one who’s chill about it the most.

Frank Perconte: “What the fuck?!” Like a lot of the other guys (unfortunately) he’s going to be absolutely freaking the fuck out. He hates to stare but your wound is right there, on your chest. Should he help you and touch it? Try to work around it as best as he can? He’s conflicted until Roe tells him to go and find another medic. When he does he’s kind of being a flabby mouth about the whole thing (not in a bad way but still.) When he knows you’re alright then he can finally relax, his next plan when you come back from the hospital is to swoon you until you are annoyed with him lmao.

Ronald Speirs: He isn’t surprised, and even if he was he surely doesn't show it. Most likely he probably knew and didn’t want to say anything, mostly because there is WAYY more important stuff going on at the moment in his opinion. Once you get back and are okay his eyes are gonna be on you 24/7. His constant questions are, “Where is y/n? Is she okay? Safe? Anyone?” He’s got like at least 4 guys protecting you and making sure you are okay at all times. If you got hurt again there would be hell to pay for the other men lmaooo.

Johnny Martin: “What the hell?” He is kinda pissed at himself for not noticing before. Once he realizes that you are a girl he sees how genuinely beautiful you are. When you get back from the hospital, He’s going to be the guy who is constantly getting on to the other men when they say something mean or inappropriate around you. “Any of this little fuckers bother you, I’ll hit ‘em up side the head.” Like Bill, he’s going to be your designated older brother (Not by choice, by chance ofc.)

Skinny Sisk: He’s absolutely tongue tied, he can’t say anything, and if he tried he would be a jumbling mess because you are the most beautiful thing he’s seen this entire fucking war. “Wow, thank God for you, honey.” When you get back to full health, this man is definitely going to be giving you all of the sweet talk, so much that it almost gets annoying. When you guys get to Austria he would loot so much shit for you it’s unreal lmaoo.

Chuck Grant: For him it’s love at first sight, (let's be honest this man is THIRSTY for you babes.) He’s kind of mad a little bit too ngl,(not mad at it you ofc) mostly because war is such a nasty and bad place and he would never want you to be apart or around something like it. It’s a bad environment and he wants to take you somewhere nice where you don’t have to be around a whole lot of annoying men. (His words not mine.) He’s pretty much the sweetest guy who will ALWAYs protect you!

David Webster: Bro is actually freaking out. Like having a full blown panic attack. I feel like he would have to take a step back and think about it before saying anything to you. (he probably won’t be able to help you after you’re hurt because he’s so shocked afterwards) he also feels kinda betrayed by all of it? Like he doesn’t get why you would keep the secret from him for so long. Once you and him both came back from your injuries I think he'd be all good tho and just glad to have you back.

Buck Compton: He is so shocked, like shocking in a good way but also a bad way? “I knew she was too pretty to be a boy” He’s tough like Toye, ready at your beckon call to beat up anybody who even THINKS of messing with you. Once you come back from your injury he would make sure to keep you extra close when the bullets start flying. He’s like a cool older friend that’s always there, for the most part. (also like the other guys is a big simp for you too)

THANKS AGAIN KAY!! LOVE YOU!!! If anyone else enjoyed this, please make sure to like or reblog! 💗