#Ron Speirs imagine

[speirslore]

band of brothers: types of kisses hc

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

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

[dick winters]

cautious kisses

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

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

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

dick is always very gentle and a little unsure at times

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

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

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

[lewis nixon]

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

so many morning kisses

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

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

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

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

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

lew does shockingly get a little shy sometimes about pda though

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

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

[carwood lipton]

carwood's speciality is definitely comforting kisses

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

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

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

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

constantly smiling in between kisses

he’s just that happy and loves you so much

but the comforting kisses & affection goes both ways

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

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

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

[ron speirs]

stolen kisses (haha)

even his kisses are stolen!

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

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

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

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

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

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

heavy on kisses instead of words

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

[don malarkey]

soooo many shy kisses

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

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

but he gets really shy around you, especially with kissing

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[joe toye]

joe's kisses are always very intense

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

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

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

his passion definitely goes along with the intensity

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

tends to get vulnerable and emotional very easily

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

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

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

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

[george luz]

late night kisses are a staple for the two of you

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

the biggest sleepover vibes

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

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

you guys have a lot of late nights because of this

also do kisses for warmth and sharing body heat count?

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

oh my god, laughing in between kisses

sometimes he really can’t take himself that seriously

george is like don and gets very excited

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

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

cigarettes have nothing on you and your kisses!

[babe heffron]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[eugene roe]

tired kisses are a doc roe staple

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

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

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

forehead kisses too omg

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

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

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

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

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

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

[buck compton]

a lot of reassuring kisses

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[joe liebgott]

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

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

some very, very eager kisses

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

joe is a great multitasker!

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

(you did but...)

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

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

the men are very used to it by now

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

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

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

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

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

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

[david webster]

oh david is just so romantic

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

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

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

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

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

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

ofc he obliges and he is very good at it

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

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

[floyd talbert]

confident kisses

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

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

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

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

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

but that's more with relationship things

the kissing he has down pat for sure

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

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

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

[shifty powers]

shifty is the absolute king of gentle kisses

like so so shy

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

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

which you always reassure him that he won't

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bill guarnere]

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

absolutely wild

sometimes borderline unhinged

especially if he's been drinking or partying

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

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

bill is sporting a basically permanent smile while watching you

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

his kisses are encapsulating and very distracting

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

loves holding you and being the big spoon

and you love it too

it's soooo comforting

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

[chuck grant]

chuck strikes me as very confident, kind of like tab

he just wants to appreciate you!

and shower you with love

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

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

his kisses are always firm and secure

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

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

really enjoys holding your hand

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

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

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

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

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

he lovesss getting a reaction from you

[bellewintersroe]

Ron Speirs x ArmyNurse! OC.

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

This is my new slow burn mini-series. I’m not sure how many parts this will include but I’m excited to write, hope you enjoy!

Maggie tugged off her headscarf, hands trembling, scrubbed raw as she sat herself outside the make-do field hospital. The casualties in Austria weren’t half as bad as she’d witnessed in places like Normandy or Bastogne. But every now and then somebody would slip through the cracks, and she’d loose track of time caring for them. In this circumstance an older German officer, no SS uniform, an emotional man. When she offered him powdered milk he cried.

The older man didn’t survive the surgery she assisted in. Her promotion to a surgical nurse had come with its downfalls. He’d bled out internally, right in front of her, she felt so out of her depth watching the surgeons practically give up. Maggie felt guilty for becoming all bleary eyed. It was understandable when they were knee deep in war and casualties, but right now it was a breeze compared to that.

“Nurse?” A gentle voice rung out just as her head dropped. Maggie straightened her back, swallowing harshly. “Captain Speirs.” She offered him a polite nod.

“Are you ok?” He blinked back to her, overtly aware of how her bottom lip quivered when she looked back to him. Truthfully, Ron didn’t like seeing any woman cry. At least not her. His professionalism remained in tack throughout the war, and it would continue to do so- but there was something about the nurse who sat before him that made him want to… soften.

“I’m- I’m good, sir.” She searched for the words, forcing a weak smile that Ron could read anywhere. He rummaged in his pocket, pulling the pack of Camel’s out and offering her a cigarette.

“Thank you, sir.” She weakly muttered as he sat down besides her with a breathy groan, pulling out the lighter. Her hands lifted, shielding the wind not-so-well. Ron muttered to himself, raising his other hand to cover hers. When he lit the end, he accidentally allowed his gaze to run over her downcast gaze. “It’s the end of the war.” He commented, blunter than it intended to. Surely everything should be improving?

She let out a soft laugh, inhaling on the cigarette. “For now.” Deployment to Pacific somehow seemed even more terrifying knowing what was coming. When she entered Normandy she was somewhat clueless to everything she’d see- that was somewhat grateful for that or she would’ve never jumped off that boat onto the sandy beaches.

Ron turned, jaw clenched as he sat beside her quietly. Obviously in a need of comfort he didn’t know what else to provide, he somewhat panicked she wouldn’t like her Captain being there, that he made her uneasy or intimidated. Maggie didn’t mind. She turned her head, looking over his dark features. He was well groomed, he even smelt good, a handsome man- painstakingly handsome. For her own good, she turned away.

“In off duty now- I’m not just… taking a break.” Becoming acutely aware that it actually was Captain Speirs, she informed him rather quickly.

“Even if you were, there’s nothing wrong with that.” He made sure to assure, knowing how tirelessly the nurses worked.

“What time did you start?”

“4.”

“This afternoon?”

“No.”

Ron glanced at her, mouth slightly agape. He was ready to protest her hard working before realising it wouldn’t be the smartest idea.

“I’ll walk you back.” She was a little surprised at his words. She knew he was only offering to be polite, but it was his way of effectively saying ‘home time’.

“Sir, you don’t have to.”

“I want to.” Ron spoke without thinking first, their eyes meeting. When they did, she instinctively followed him, legs feeling like jelly from the long day she’d been on them. Was it that or the fact Captain Ronald Speirs was walking her back?

After a brief moment of comfortable silence, Ron spoke again. “S’ a long day for you… how’d ya lose track of time, exactly?” He muttered, cigarette between his lips as he lit it effortlessly.

“Surgery. We were operating on a German officer.” Ron glimpsed at her again, wondering if she thought it was a good or bad thing. “Yeah, he died, so…” her shoe kicked against a slightly bigger rock below, used to her combat boots, she didn’t expect to stub her toe, wincing silently at her clumsy move.

“I’m sorry.” Ron muttered, an odd sense of relief running through her. Nobody else had been so bothered that this man lost his life, purely because he was German. It didn’t mean he wasn’t still a human.

“Why?” She asked, instinctively wanting to know why he, an American officer cared. “Well I don’t think anyone wants to see anybody dying anymore.”

“The surgeons didn’t seem so bothered.”

“What?”

“The surgeons.” She paused, looking up to the man before her. “They don’t care what a nurse has to say, not when it comes to a German.” Ron paused, watching her beginning to walk again. His brows winced together slightly and he slowly followed her, inhaling on his cigarette.

“Want me to speak to them?” He offered. “No, thank you. You shouldn’t have to ask for humanity in a surgeon of all people. I mean he even cried over powdered milk for Christ sake.”

“Who?”

“The German officer, he cried over powdered milk that I gave him.” Maggie spoke on a sigh before continuing. “You know the-the young ones don’t even crack a wince in pain, they refuse morphine, but the older ones they’re softer, they cry easier. I don’t understand it, sir.” She broke off in a slight tangent.

“Hitlers Youth.” Ron rasped in response to her words. He’d seen it, the ruthlessness of the young men he came so close to. On the lines they were fearless, tough, almost untouchable- “Brainwashed.” Maggie sighed, staring up to the night sky above. She’d finished his train of thought.

“Uh huh.” Ron agreed and she turned to him again, realising who she was with, telling her story to. That’s your Captain. Maggie stood up straighter again, averting her gaze. “Sorry sir, I shouldn’t be rambling to you.”

“It’s Margaret right?” He avoided her nonsense apology and spoke up, almost feeling a little nervous. A genuine smile finally cracked on her face, Ron was confused to hear her laugh. “Maggie. I forget Margaret’s even my name.” She mocked herself.

“Maggie.” Ron corrected, feeling his eyes scan over her shorter frame. Truthfully he’d seen her around, she was beautiful, there was no denying, caring, loyal, courageous- Ron knew all this but he’d never been close to the nurses, often working elsewhere towards the front of the lines. It wasn’t until he was promoted to Easy Company and they entered Germany and Austria did he begin working closer with them.

Maggie smiled again, looking back to the area ahead as they drew closer to where she was staying. Stealing another glance, she felt her heart jump from nerves seeing he was doing the same thing. “I’m just staying over there, that building on the right.” She babbled what felt like nonsense.

Ron nodded, scoping out the quiet area. “Probably not as nice as where you are.” Maggie added, wringing her headscarf between her hands. “Looks nice to me.” Speirs commented as they grew closer to where she was bunked.

“Thank you for walking me back, sir, I appreciate it.” She nodded, feet hitting the concrete below. Maggie felt her cheeks warm as they slowed to a full stop, she inhaled another puff of her cigarette, seeing him watch the faint smoke cloud swirl into the air above her.

Ron opened his mouth, eyes landed back on hers. She was stood so politely, a little shyly, he watched as she toyed her hands around the blue fabric in her hands. For the second time, he worried he made her nervous, scared as they walked back together in the night. That was the last thing he wanted, especially with her.

“If the surgeons give you anymore trouble, let me know.” He watched the corners of her lips pick up further.

“Thank you sir.” He offered her a smile as she turned back to where she was staying. “Ron…” he muttered, voice barely audible.

“Sorry, sir?” She spun back around. Ron felt his chest tighten and he swallowed thickly. “Just call me Ron.”

Nodding, she offered him a gentle grin, “okay. G’night, Ron.” Hearing the name fall from her lips had him smiling. Maggie wasn’t sure if she’d even heard of Captain Speirs smile before, never mind seen it. He nodded and she hesitantly headed back inside, putting out the cigarette before she closed the door behind her.

“Evening.” She nodded to the men guarding the house, they both appeared young, just replacements. “Evening, ma’m.” When she arrived to the apartment she shared with two other nurses they both jumped from the window giddily.

“Captain Speirs is outside.” Nora turned around in surprise as Maggie’s head lifted, placing her bag to one side on the kitchen tabletop.

“Yeah?” She gently responded. “Uh huh, we saw you talking to him. What were you getting, a lecture about entering the Eagles nest?”

“Or was it that you got completely fried when we were up there.” The second girl, Janet snickered deviously.

“No! And no! Everybody else was just as sauced- thank you very much, Janet!” Maggie sassed, taking her cardigan off and placing it into the laundry basket. “He walked me back. He’s actually really nice.” Maggie defended.

“Don’t tell me you’re doing the dirty with Captain Speirs out of everybody?” Nora’s brows raised. “Oh my god, Maggie!” Janet bounced.

“No! I’ve barely spoke to him apart from tonight!” She glanced back out of the window, watching Captain Speirs slip back inside his own billeted house across the square. She pursed her lips, smiling a little before looking back up to the girls.

“Well he is a total dreamboat, a little scary, Mag’s, but whatever floats your boat.” Nora shrugged. “It’s scary how nice he is.” Maggie muttered, captivated by the interaction she had. He almost made her forget about the terrible day she’d just had.

Maggie had always lived in fantasy land, before the war that was. She found herself daydreaming often, thinking about boys. She was used to the attention of lots of boys, both back home and throughout the war- but Captain Speirs was different. He was a man, she hadn’t felt so… gooey inside since she was a teenager, pre-war. Somehow he made all that excitement come back, it was fascinating.

[mlmxreader]

Clean & Tidy | Ronald Speirs x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: "You… you clean up real… really good." ron speirs x m!reader

summary: you haven't seen him look this good in so long, you almost can't stand it.

tws: swearing

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

You were more than used to Speirs being scruffy and looking as if he had been dragged out of a bramble bush backwards, and although you did try and get him to smarten up here and there, he rarely did; it wasn't like he had the time, and you couldn't exactly make him make time for such a silly thing like shaving.

You had gotten used to it with the more time that you spent together; Perveen, your commanding officer, often remarked that he could always sneak into where Speirs was sleeping and use his kirpan to shave the offending scruff. You were never quite sure if he was serious or not, but you still laughed.

The same as you always laughed when Speirs kissed you, and the scruff tickled your skin enough to make you break the kiss; he would just scoff as he tried to bite back a grin.

He always liked it when you laughed, even more so when he was the reason behind it. Such a sound always echoed in the back of his head when he was sent off to fight; the same as your smile was always the last thing he pictured before he went to sleep on those long, anxious, nights.

Maybe that was why he was so against shaving.

But, just as his luck had had it, some high up and powerful commander was coming to check the state of the American soldiers, and for poor Speirs, that meant cleaning up; every soldier had to be freshly shaved, hair trimmed, uniform clean and fresh. Nothing could be out of place or even seem like it was dirty and scruffy.

The boots that Speirs usually left under your bed had to be polished and scrubbed to the point where he was sure that the leather would break. He had to hide the picture that he had taken with you a while ago, as Winters had warned him that the commander didn't take kindly to things like that.

It was all miserable, really, and Speirs felt like shit by the time that he was finished with it all; but everything was well worth it when he snuck over to the RAF side and he found you in Perveen's office.

Thankfully, Perveen was out helping Abdul and Karel fix one of the planes, leaving you all alone to guard the office; the sight of your surprised grin when you saw him made all of Speirs' hard work more than worth it.

"Do you like what you see?"

You nodded slowly, no shame as you raked your eyes over him time and time again, leaning back in the chair as your eyes went wide and you let out a long sigh. "Fucking… wow."

Speirs smiled, helping himself to coffee and sitting opposite you. "Some commander's coming to make sure we're doing well, so we had to clean up."

You nodded again, humming under your breath. "You shaved."

"Yes, Sir."

"And you got your hair cut," you breathed out. "Fuck… wow."

He wanted to roll his eyes, but he liked the way that you looked at him too much to take his eyes away from you; he had never seen you so pleasantly surprised, and he was determined to make every single second count. To burn it into his memory as much as he could.

"Any opinions, Sir?"

You eventually came to your senses, clearing your throat and stealing a swig from his coffee before you let out a soft grumble and dared to speak up. "You… you clean up real… really good."

Speirs ran his tongue along his bottom lip, daring to move his chair around so that he could sit beside you, tilting his head to the side slightly. "You don't miss the scruff?"

"I miss the scruff," you confirmed. "But this? I like this."

He dared to laugh, licking his lips. "I don't think I've ever seen you so flustered."

"Well…" you swallowed thickly. "It's not every day that the most handsome American waltzes in and shows off how good he looks."

"Isn't it?"

"No," you couldn't stop yourself, moving your chair around so that you were facing him.

You grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him in and planting a harsh and deep kiss to his lips; messing up his hair with the other hand as he eagerly kissed you back, grabbing your chair to keep himself steady.

Nearly spilling the coffee when he put it on the table; he couldn't deny that he loved the way you kissed him, so eagerly kissing back as you tugged at his hair gently. But then you pulled away, and disappointment washed over him.

"Is that all you have, Flight Lieutenant?"

"Shut up, Ron," you mumbled, unable to stop grinning. "You're an ass."

He grinned, puppy dog eyes as he stared at you so keenly. "You'll have to help me fix my hair, you ass."

"I'm not helping you fix shit," you muttered, shaking your head. "There's pomade in the drawer near the prayer mats in the back."

Speirs was reluctant to leave, but he eventually got up and headed to the back; he knew that you were watching him, he knew all too well that you were watching the way that his shirt was a little too tight and showed off his back a little bit too much.

He couldn't stop smiling, even when he came back and slapped the tin of pomade into your hand.

"Fix it."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. "Why can't you?"

"I like it better when you do it," he shrugged. "And you messed it up."

You scoffed, shaking your head and gesturing for him to kneel between your legs; you opened the tin, and slowly started to apply the pomade to his hair. "You're such an ass."

"You messed up my hair," he pointed out. "So that makes you an ass."

"Ron," you hummed. "Shut the fuck up, or I'll make you look like a dick."

He grinned, laughing softly to himself. "I take it you like how I cleaned up."

"I do," you nodded. "But this is the only time I'm fixing your hair for you."

[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.

[kiwi-and-pasta-at-3am]

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

Can actually be kinda soft!!

[blurredcolour]

In The Bleak Mid-Winter

[One-shot]

Ronald Speirs x Nurse!Female Reader

No good deed goes unpunished, but your reassignment brings with it an unexpected reward.

Warnings: Language, Weapons, Canon Typical Violence, Smoking, Treatment of Wounds, Medical Procedures, Hospital Settings, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex - m/f receiving, fingering, cum eating] - 18+ ONLY

Author’s Note: This was written entirely on my phone as my laptop is in for emergency repairs - I hated the experience, and apologize if there are any formatting issues or a surplus of typos. Also, I made some distinct narrative choices in writing this but I won’t burden you with them up front. They’re in the post-script if you’re interested! This is a work of fiction based off the actors’ portrayal in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life persons mentioned within.

Word Count: 6171

————————————-

December 29, 1944 - Bastogne

“Fifty surgeries in two days with only three deaths. It is nothing short of a miracle. I’m halfway through a report recommending you all for a medal....and then I come to find out you landed in the middle of an encircled town on an unpiloted glider, through all manner of artillery fire, with a goddamn woman?! A woman!”

Your bleary eyes focused on the lit end of the cigarette pinched between the index and middle finger of your right hand, the icy caress of the north wind howling between the tent and the garage outside the Bastogne barracks one of the only things keeping you awake. Weary from nearly forty-eight hours of surgery, it would have been difficult to stay awake under normal circumstances, but the mortification you felt as General McAuliffe screamed at Major Dorward behind thin walls of canvas was certainly helping keep you on your aching feet in the ankle deep snow.

Bundled tightly in your great coat, collar turned up against the wind, face buried into the olive drab scarf around your neck, helmet protecting your head, the only bit of exposed skin was that hand you were straining to focus on. The other was deep inside your pocket, balled into a fist. You were vaguely aware of various people darting through the barracks yard behind you, making their way to and fro, loading vehicles, delivering men to the now-central clearing station since the bombing of the cathedral the day before your arrival. Covered as you were, you were barely indistinguishable from an ordinary soldier, yet the General had managed to find out your secret nonetheless.

“I have every faith that she can handle herself out here sir, there was no more qualified surgical assistant to accompany us.”

“But she is not a surgical assistant, Major, is she?! She’s just a nurse! A nurse whose life you endangered by sneaking her aboard that glider! I ought to have you court martialed!!!”

The General did have a point, hidden though it was within the avalanche of vitriol he was sending the Major’s way. You were in fact no more than a surgical nurse - assistants were enlisted men. But during your third or fourth surgery with the Major, right after D-Day, a brand new surgical assistant had been assigned to the operating room and not five minutes in had fainted to the floor.

With the patient in a life threatening position you had stepped forward to fill in the gap and ensure no impact to care or outcome. It had been the start of a very effective working relationship as the 12th Evacuation Hospital made its way across France behind the advancing American army.

Thus when Major Dorward had volunteered for this assignment, and asked if you would consider joining him, your only hesitation was born of the concern for the hell you two might catch. The hell he was in the very midst of catching right now.

You hissed at the sudden pain as the lit end of the cigarette met your flesh and quickly flicked it into the snow, not having taken one puff. When General Nuts himself had stormed into the tent, eyes blazing, the Major had sent you outside in the early dawn light with the lit cigarette and his rifle for protection. It had rather felt like you were your own firing squad, though the Major was most certainly the one under fire at the moment.

The creak of boots in the nearby snow, much closer than all those that had passed by before, made you jump slightly. You turned quickly to see an exhausted soldier, eyes bleached a pale grey in the now-brilliant morning sunshine. He looked cold, and exhausted, as all the men you’d run into here did. His face was handsome, though, lashes luxuriously long for a man carrying a Thompson submachine gun. He held out a pack of cigarettes to you, offering you a new one to replace that which you’d mistakenly allowed to burn out and you shook your head before extracting your face from its position nestled deep within your scarf.

“I don’t actually smoke, please don’t waste any of your cigarettes on me, soldier.” You smiled weakly, watching as his eyes widened a fraction before the General’s voice somehow rose even further in volume to respond to something the Major had said.

“I don’t give two shits if she can transplant heads, the risks involved were unacceptable, Major, and believe me you have not heard the last of this! Your surgical record over the last two days has been impressive, but this was utterly reckless!”

The soldier’s eyes flicked to the tent then back to you as everything surely came together in his mind and you looked down at the outline of yourcombat boots buried in the snow, wondering if it was too much to ask for the ground to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. You heard the tent flap flutter and tensed in anticipation of the General’s departure, but instead a gunshot rang out from across the clearing beyond the barracks, the snow scattering at your feet.

Strong arms yanked around your waist and pulled you back behind the shelter of the tent and the pair of you quickly lay flat in the snow, unmoving, barely breathing. The harassment from the enemy had been almost constant from the moment the glider had entered occupied air space and that, combined with any and all abilities you might possess being questioned by the General simply because of your gender, had you feeling rather enraged.

Pulling Major Dorward’s rifle from your shoulder, you crawled on your elbows to cautiously peer around the corner of the tent across the meadow and into the tree line beyond. Nothing moved. Years spent stalking deer at your father’s side had taught you patience, and how to aim the rifle in your hands. It seemed the former would not be required as a soldier came blithely walking out of the garage-turned-operating theatre completely unaware that there was a sniper.

The soldier at your side gestured at him violently - you could feel the movement of his body where his hip was still pressed against your leg, but it went unnoticed. Another shot rang out.

“Holy shit!” The man wailed as he darted back inside, a shower of brick dust audibly hitting the snow somewhere to your rear. The sniper was clearly lacking in talent, but you were focused on the movement in the coniferous tree to your two o’clock.

Exhaling slowly you squeezed the trigger and there was a hoarse shout followed by the sound of a body tumbling through cracking branches and ending in a sickening thud.

“Trying to kill my goddamn patients.” You muttered bitterly under your breath and carefully sat up, looking back to the soldier as he exhaled slowly.

He was eyeing you, expression intense and inscrutable, but your gaze was drawn to the gap at the collar of his ODs where you could see fresh blood oozing from a poorly bandaged wound at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, staining his wool shirt just below below his silver 1st Lieutenant’s insignia.

“You’re bleeding, Lieutenant.” You said quickly, pushing on his hip to encourage him to roll over so you might kneel at his side for a better look, pleased when he immediately complied.

You laid the rifle in the snow next to him and pulled the bandages away, frowning deeply to see lingering splinters of wood in the wound. As you carefully probed at them he hissed and you tensed, quickly apologizing.

“It’s nothing, ma’am, I’m fine.”

The tent flap opening and closing followed by heavy footfalls in the snow signalled the arrival of General McAuliffe on the scene.

“Everything alright, Lieutenant?” He asked quickly and the man below you nodded quickly.

“Just some shrapnel from a tree burst, sir.”

You looked up to the General slowly, watching his eyes land on the rifle at the Lieutenant’s side before glancing across the clearing.

“Good. Well done with the sniper, son.”

The Lieutenant shifted uncomfortably but you nodded quickly, helping him sit up. “An impressive shot, sir.” You added.

The General’s eyes fell on you, still full of that heated rage, but apparently he’d run out of words to say on the subject of your unwanted presence for he simply turned and made his way back towards the barracks.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, Lieutenant.” You turned back to him, the coppery tang of blood on the air focusing you like nothing else seemed to be able to.

Working your way to your feet, you picked up the abandoned rifle before leading him into the tent. Major Dorward looked up from some papers on his desk, opening his mouth but closing it quickly as you were followed by the Lieutenant.

“Tree burst shrapnel, sir.” You announced in your easy working shorthand.

“Damn Nazis have weaponized the forest. Have a seat, soldier.” He stood and offered his chair, walking over to the stash of supplies to fetch a field kit and bandages for you as you set the rifle on the cot in the corner, putting your helmet down beside it. “Ah my apologies, trooper.” He amended.

You turned back to see the distinct jump boots with bloused trousers now that the Lieutenant was seated and smiled. “I apologize as well, Lieutenant. I missed that outside.”

You worked his ODs and wool shirt open to began carefully cleaning his wound, leaving him in his undershirt in the chill of the tent.

“Doesn’t seem you miss much, Nurse.” He looked up to you as he spoke softly and you swallowed thickly as you noted his eyes were actually hazel, with flecks of gold around his pupils.

Mercifully Major Dorward broke out into rich laughter and shook his head. “That she doesn’t.” He commiserated affectionately from his newfound seat on the cot.

“Let me guess,” you murmured to the man seated before you as you gently worked out the last few splinters of wood that had escaped initial treatment, “you also told them this was nothing at the aid station because there were men there whom you considered hurt worse than you.” You glanced to his face as his lips twitched a little. “This could have become a real problem, Lieutenant, I’m glad you came over to offer me a cigarette.”

Turning back, you called the Major over to double check your work.

“Wound is clean and ready for bandaging.” He nodded after looking it over. “When you’re done I suggest you try and sleep. We’re driving out as soon as the truck is ready and the ride out will be about as relaxing as the flight in.”

“Understood, thank you Major.” You nodded as he stepped out of the tent to light a cigarette. You carefully lay some gauze over the crook of the Lieutenant’s shoulder before wrapping some bandages around his neck and under his armpit to hold it in place. “This should heal nicely in a week or so if you can do your best to keep it dry for me…” you trailed off as your fingers found the hole in his ODs.

Casting about the tent, your eyes landed on a tattered blanket in the corner and you began fashioning a patch, whip stitching it into place over the gash in the fabric. “That ought to do it.”

“Thank you, Nurse.” He murmured, looking up at you before he stood slowly, buttoning up his shirt and ODs with practiced efficiency.

“Take care of yourself, trooper.” You nodded, watching him step out, hoping against hope that he would be alright out there.

General McAuliffe proved to be a man of his word, which in retrospect was of no surprise to you whatsoever. The hellish ride out of Bastogne in the back of a truck on the only opened road, with the sounds of battle still raging on either side, took you to Orval where you received orders to report to the 60th Field Hospital there while the men from the 12th would return to the Evacuation Hospital you’d been stationed with since before June 1944. You had been informed your personal effects would arrive at a ‘later date.’

Nuts, indeed.

You worked in Orval for nearly a week, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, wearing the same clothing day-in, day-out, until the 60th was relieved and pulled back to Mourmelon-le-Grand. As promised, your belongings were waiting for you there, in the iron grip of a dour-faced Chief Nurse MacDonald who was only too happy to put a ‘reckless, insubordinate’ Nurse like you in her place at the 123rd Station Hospital.

What followed was a grueling month of scrubbing and refitting the near derelict buildings abandoned by the Airborne when they were abruptly called to the Ardennes. By the time the place was worthy of being called a hospital, you had managed to become at least friendly with your new colleagues, though they remained suspicious after your filthy and unceremonious arrival.

By mid-February, a tent city began to spring up around the base, heralding the impending arrival of troops from the front. And with them came all manner of cold weather maladies - pneumonia, trench foot, frostbite. Working on the general ward now, you could only eye the surgical nurses with envy, knowing your skills were going to waste emptying bedpans and changing bandages and that you had no one to blame but yourself.

Stubborn in all things, however, you worked without complaint, often being rewarded with more work or the worst assignments because your superiors knew you would complete any task with efficient silence. It was precisely this combination that saw you assigned to the night shift, a small mercy in that the vengeful Chief Nurse would never deign to work such hours, allowing you to develop a new working relationship with Captain Munro, MD.

“Nurse might I borrow you a moment?” He interrupted you as you stepped away from the bedside of a postoperative patient and you quickly nodded, following him off the ward and down the hall to his office. “I’m up to my eyeballs in trench foot but there’s an officer in here, seems he lacerated his hand helping one of his men climb out a transport - quite stubborn. Whether or not it needs sutures I am confident you can determine…” he exhaled, clearly exhausted from working a double shift as he came to a stop outside the door. “Is it alright if I leave this one in your capable hands? You’ll find everything you need in the cabinet.” He looked at you pleadingly, eyes underscored by dark bags of fatigue as he held out the chart and you nodded quickly.

“Certainly sir, please don’t worry about a thing.” You smiled softly at the relieved slump of his shoulders before he nodded firmly in thanks, dashing off down the hall to no doubt deal with another man’s beleaguered feet.

You glanced over the chart of Captain Ronald Speirs quickly before knocking on the door, giving the man some warning, before you stepped inside. You tilted your head to see the Captain with his back turned to you, halfway back into the worn jacket of his ODs, appearing quite prepared to leave.

“Just a moment please, Captain Speirs, I would like to take a look at your hand, sir.” You said softly, eyes widening as the man turned around swiftly, arms still slightly akimbo, to reveal the very same Lieutenant whom you’d bandaged that morning in Bastogne. Who’d saved your life, and watched you take out a sniper with barely a comment.

His eyes were fatigued, his hair grown long. He clearly hadn’t seen a razor in quite some time and yet you were struggling to recall a moment when you’d found a man so attractive in your entire life. You suddenly felt acutely self conscious in your white and brown seer sucker hospital dress with brown cotton stockings and cardigan to match, nursing cap pinned in your hair.

“It’s nothing ma’am, I’m fine.” He repeated himself word for word and you bit the inside of your cheek, having a hard time deciphering if he was joking or just built that obstinately. You did not miss, however, the slight rasp in the back of his throat.

“Good, let’s keep it that way, shall we Captain?”

You gestured for him to sit in the chair he’d surely recently vacated and carefully took the one across the corner of the desk from him, holding out your hand expectantly. As he set the back of his left hand in yours, you frowned at the laceration along the side of his palm. Captain Munro had been right, it really was borderline in need of suturing.

Laying his hand on the desk gently you stepped over to the cabinet to collect the necessary supplies, deciding to play it safe. You could suture quickly enough - the man clearly needed to get some rest and you did not want to keep him from it. While swiping his palm clean with an iodine wipe you glanced at him as he cleared his throat.

“I didn’t think you were assigned here.” He commented quietly.

You shook your head ruefully as you unpacked a tube of pre-threaded sutures with a curved needle. “I wasn’t until very recently. I used to be assigned to the 12th Evacuation Hospital but after my…behavior it was deemed necessary to reassign me.”

“I said nothing, I swear.” He replied quickly, brow furrowing and you could not help the smile that pulled at your lips.

“I believe you, Captain. Heaven knows where I’d be if you had.” Gently positioning his hand on the desk top, you smoothly rotated the curved needle through first one edge of his cut and then the other, looping the length of it around your forceps twice before pulling the end through to create a square knot.

You repeated two more casts before snipping the ends of the suture, looking to him sharply as he let out a rattling cough. “How long have you had that cough, Captain?”

“Few days…” he replied evasively and you hummed disapprovingly.

“If it doesn’t go away in a couple of days, you should come back and see me.” You spoke as you began the next stitch.

“And if it does get better?” He asked quietly, watching your careful work.

“I’ll be here all the same.” You replied, pressing your lips together as you fought another smile at the thrill that unfurled in your stomach.

“Whom should I ask for?” His voice came out particularly gravelly and he cleared his throat forcefully.

It was your turn to look startled as you suddenly came to realize you had yet to introduce yourself. You quickly shared your name before shaking your head in shame. “You must think me some wild animal, Captain, please forgive me.” You muttered and tied off the fourth and final stitch.

He nodded at you, eyes taking on a glossy quality that had you growing more concerned by the moment. You set down your tools and raised a hand to brush the backs of your fingers against his forehead, heart clenching as his eyes fluttered closed. Those infernal eyelashes dusting against his cheeks. His skin felt a normal temperature but another ragged cough wracked his frame and you clenched your jaw.

“I’d like to listen to your lungs, Captain.” You muttered and stepped over to the cabinet once more to grab the stethoscope you’d seen there.

He blinked up at you as he began to undo his wool shirt. “It’s Ron.” He corrected you and another smile escaped you before you managed to smother it, hands cupping the bell of the stethoscope to warm it.

“Thank you, Ron.” You said softly, inserting the tips into your ears before stepping closer to press the stethoscope against his upper left chest. “Deep breath in for me?”

You listened carefully to each quadrant of his lungs, pleased there was no crackling or anything else abnormal. Satisfied it was most likely just a cold, you looped the stethoscope around your neck as you stepped back.

“Everything seems alright, promise me you’ll get some rest and keep warm?” You asked gently, doing your best not to allow your eyes to linger on the way his undershirt clung to his lithe frame. You did take a selfish moment to appreciate how well his wound from Bastogne had healed, however.

“Promise.” He nodded, doing up his shirt more slowly this time, courtesy of the stitches in his palm. “Remind me when I get to see you again?”

You bit your lip slightly and took a breath. “If the cough doesn’t improve, a couple of days. To get your stitches out, a couple of weeks. Please keep them clean and dry until tomorrow night at least.”

“Got it.” He nodded and straightened his OD jacket, pulling on a worn scarf from the back of the chair before standing slowly.

“But for now straight to bed.” You opened the door, watching over him feeling wildly and inexplicably overprotective.

“Thank you.” He looked to you drowsily and you nodded, seeing him out then turning back to clean up and complete his chart before rushing back to your actual duties that night.

One week passed, and then another. There was no visit from Captain Speirs. You did your utmost to convince yourself it was for the best, that it meant he was healthy. That he’d had his stitches removed by a nurse on the day shift at his convenience. Word came that his entire Division would receive a Presidential Unit Citation and Ike himself would be coming to visit to deliver it on Roosevelt’s behalf.

You were promptly informed by Chief Nurse MacDonald that your presence during the ceremony was not welcome, but if you wanted to observe the Divisional dress rehearsal a few days before, on your own time of course, she would not stop you.

Breaking out your dress uniform for the first time in months, you obstinately got ready just after the end of your shift that morning and strode your way over to the parade ground with a few of the girls on the evening shift who were certainly better rested than you. More than a few off duty nurses from the five other hospitals in Mourmelon had found their way onto the grounds to take a peek at the men in their finery and you could only imagine that number would be many times higher on the fifteenth when Ike himself was there.

The weather was thankfully cooperative as you huddled together near a collection of trees watching the men of the 101st file past. The contrast between their neatly pressed uniforms with mirror shined boots and the battered but not beaten men you’d encountered in Bastogne was truly striking. Each and every one of them truly deserved the honor that was about to be bestowed upon them.

Once everyone was satisfied that the ceremony would proceed without a hitch, the men were dismissed and you turned to head back to your tent to catch what sleep you could before your shift that night. Smothering a yawn behind your hand, the group of women you were walking with all came to a halt when a familiar voice called ‘Nurse!’ All of you almost seemed to turn back as one.

If six pairs of inquisitive female eyes intimidated Captain Speirs he did not let it show. He quickly clarified with your name, the other nurses filing away murmuring amongst themselves disappointedly.

“Good morning, Captain.” You nodded to him as he came to stand in front of you, sliding his helmet from his head to tuck it under his arm.

“Good morning.” He replied, eyes skimming over your uniform curiously.

You noted he’d found the time to visit a barber, his hair neatly trimmed and styled, though you rather missed the tousled waves he’d first arrived with.

“You are sounding well, Captain. I’m glad to hear it.” You smiled softly. “Did your hand mend nicely?”

He lifted it for your inspection and you looked to him startled to see the stitches still in place.

“Captain, these sutures were ready to be removed days ago.” You chided him softly as you cradled his hand in yours.

“I was told you were unavailable.” He replied quietly and you looked to his face quizzically before it dawned on you that he must have returned to the hospital during another shift and simply left when he learned you weren’t there.

“My apologies, I work nights. Any nurse can take care of these, they must itch something fierce.” You frowned.

“What time does your shift begin tonight?” He asked, seemingly happy to leave his hand at your mercy for as long as you chose to hold it.

“2100.” You replied, noting the disappointment that pinched at the bridge of his nose. “But I could meet you there at 2015 if it means getting this taken care of.”

He nodded firmly. “2015, then. Thank you.” He eyed you a moment as you tried in vain to fight back another yawn. “What time does your shift end?”

“0900. I should get back to get some rest. Just wanted to sneak a peek at the big show. You boys will do great when Ike’s in town.” You nodded warmly.

“You won’t be here?” He tilted his head curiously and you let out a scoff of self deprecation.

“Reckless, insubordinate nurses like me aren’t to be seen by the Supreme Allied Commander.”

A furrow appeared between his brows, the muscle of his jaw ticking slightly before he exhaled. “I wish they would stop punishing you for your bravery.”

Your eyebrows shot up beneath the brim of your service cap. You had been trying your damnedest to not let it bother you, especially after hearing the men of the 12th Hospital you’d gone in with had all received the Silver Cross. To hear him speak in your defense was quite honestly overwhelming.

After a careful glance around the nearly empty parade ground confirmed the remaining individuals were otherwise occupied, you leaned in to quickly press your lips to his freshly shaved cheek, thumb swiping away any trace of your lipstick.

“Thank you, Ron.” You swallowed tightly as the heat of his gaze was as palpable as a caress on the skin of your face. “I will see you later to remove your stitches.” Squeezing his hand gently you released it to hang at his side.

His silent nod was the only response you received before you turned to make your way back to your tent for some much needed rest, though your mind would have much rather focused on the way the sunlight lit his eyes than to let you sleep.

Arriving at the hospital that night at 2000 you tracked down Captain Munro and secured his permission to borrow his office once more in the name of treating the stubborn Captain Speirs. Setting out suture scissors and tweezers on a tray upon the desk, you hurried out front to meet the Captain lest he was misinformed about your availability again.

“Good Evening.” He nodded as you stepped outside, hugging your cardigan close against the chill of the night.

“Evening, Captain, please follow me.” You smiled and led him through the maze of hallways before holding open the door to the prepared office.

He assumed the same seat as before and, closing the door behind you, you sat opposite, looking over his palm as he set it in your waiting hand.

“You’ve done a very good job keeping it clean for me, Captain, thank you.” You smiled and picked up the curved scissors, the edge that pressed against the skin not at all sharp. “I’ll cut the stitches first and then pull them out with the tweezers, alright?”

He nodded, watching you closely as you snipped your way through the silk strands very carefully.

“They call me ‘killer’ you know…” he spoke apropos of nothing and you slowly raised your eyes, feeling as though you were joining an internal conversation well in progress.

Rumors spread through camp faster than that bone rattling cough he’d arrived with - you’d heard your fair share of things about him. Particularly after your tent mates had learned that he’d spoken to you earlier that day on the parade ground.

“Sure he’s pretty and all but after the things he did to those Nazi prisoners…” Betty from Indiana had insisted with a dramatic shudder.

“And his own Sergeant!” Philomena of New York had chimed in with an emphatic nod.

All of it struck you as hollow and vapid, coming from two wide-eyed girls fresh from Stateside who’d only ever known war stationed in hospitals with roofs and walls. Never been fired on, never had an enemy soldier try and take the life of a patient right out from under them.

“Well, Ron,” you replied thoughtfully as you set the scissors onto the waiting tray, “they could easily say the same thing about me. It just so happens I had a very honorable man at my side when my anger got the best of me.”

His eyes seized yours, pinning you to the spot with your hand hovering just above the set of tweezers as you forgot how to breathe. His lips tentatively began to form words several times before he abandoned his attempts to speak and lunged forward to close the space between you, his lips slotting against yours in reply instead.

Inhaling sharply through your nose in surprise, you found yourself quickly leaning into his kiss, fingers threading into his shorter hair as you tilted your head to press your lips more firmly to his. Sliding his arms around your shoulders, he pulled you close, tongue delving into your mouth greedily. A soft whimper escaped your throat only to be swallowed by his devouring mouth as he tasted you thoroughly.

Appearing discontent with the separation between your bodies, his hands shifted to grip your hips, guiding you onto his lap before his fingers began to pluck at the buttons of your cardigan. Rucking up the skirt of your dress and slip beneath, you settled over his hips, shuddering as the hard bulge of his length nestled tightly against your core.

“We don’t have a lot of time” you panted against his lips as his hands brushed aside your open cardigan to tug at the tie of your wrap dress, revealing your cream coloured slip beneath.

“Understood.” He murmured as he pulled back to drink you in, eyes taking on that glossy quality from back in February that’d had you so convinced he was febrile.

“Ron…” you urged gently, your own hands sliding between your bodies to work at the fastenings of his dress trousers.

Lost in some sort of trance he leaned forward to press his lips against the hollow of your throat before he secured the ball chain of your ID tags between his teeth and pulled them out from beneath the v-neck of your slip. Brushing his lips against the flat metal stamped with your name and serial number, preceded by the letter N, your heart lurched beneath your ribs fondly as it forgot its normal rhythm for a few beats.

The feel of his fingertips undoing the fastenings of your stockings from your garter straps refocused you and you quickly worked his fly open, sliding his trousers and boxers down as he did the same with your underwear, depositing them onto the floor.

Shifting higher onto your knees, you pressed your face against his temple as he took his cock into his hand, pressing into your entrance slowly. You whimpered breathily against his hair before dropping your head to the crook of his shoulder to try your best to keep your volume down. Rocking your hips against his with a smothered moan you clenched your thighs to begin working up and down along his length.

Heavy breaths fell from his parted lips, brushing against the skin of your neck, goose flesh erupting in the wake of each exhale. His fingers curled into the flesh of your hips as he helped drive your hips against his.

“Ahn, Ron!” You keened against his jacket, lifting your head to kiss him hungrily.

He rocked his hips up into yours each time your pelvis met his before letting out a frustrated grunt against your lips. “On the desk.” He rasped pleadingly and you nodded quickly, sliding from his lap to shuffle backwards, pushing the tray of instruments further behind you before perching on the edge.

Surging to his feet, he nestled between your legs, tongue sliding along yours as he thrust into your aching warmth once more. You cried out hungrily down his throat as your nails dug into the sleeves of his uniform jacket, clinging to him as he set a deliciously dizzying pace that had your toes curling in your shoes.

A ragged moan rumbled through his chest as his cock twitched within your wet heat and he quickly pulled back, chest heaving. Pushing from the desk, you fell to your knees, ignoring the slight sting as they impacted the floor, to wrap your lips around the leaking tip of his length.

He hissed through clenched teeth, hand coming to rest against the back of your head as you hollowed your cheeks tightly around him. Encircling him in your grasp, you eagerly stared up at his face as you stroked his cock, clenching your thighs together as the corded muscle of his neck flexed with the effort to remain silent as his salty release filled your mouth.

Laving him clean with your tongue, you sat back on your heels, swallowing every last drop as he watched on in stunned silence. Fingers sliding up your thighs to retrieve the first of your garter straps, you shivered a little as you remained highly sensitive, having been so close yourself, but also very much aware of the lack of time. You rose to your feet, about to begin fastening your stockings when his hands were on your waist, guiding you to sit on top of the desk once again.

“You didn’t…” He exhaled through flared nostrils and shook his head sharply. “Unacceptable.” Was all the warning he afforded you before he crouched down to seal his lips around your throbbing clit, two fingers plunging into your trembling warmth.

“Holy…” you barely managed to cover your mouth with your palm, hips bucking violently toward him.

He hummed against you approvingly as you lay back onto the worn wooden surface, writhing as fingers picked up the thread of your pleasure, winding it tighter and tighter as his mouth felt like it was sucking your very soul from you. Every muscle in your body became taught with exquisite tension until, at last, like the blowing of a fuse your release detonated behind your clenched eyelids.

Relaxing into the desk top with languid ease, you ran your fingers through his hair in tender appreciation. “Really…have no time now…” you murmured breathlessly and he pressed his damp lips to your inner thigh before pulling you up to a seated position and began to help you re-dress.

Any time his lips were vaguely within the vincinty of yours, you unhelpfully insisted on kissing him softly, significantly hindering progress, but eventually the pair of you were mostly presentable. He cupped your cheek with his left hand and your eyes shot wide at the rasp of sutures against your skin.

“Ron!” You gasped, grabbing his wrist and groping behind you for the tweezers before setting about carefully trying to remove them.

It was his turn to be a nuisance as he nuzzled his face into the soft skin of your neck, sighing gently, making you giggle under your breath as his eyelashes tickled your flesh.

“You are a wild animal.” His voice held a dreamlike quality, lips brushing against your throat as he spoke.

You honestly would have swatted him if his tone weren’t so reverent, doing your best to focus on removing the last two sutures.

“A lioness - fierce and strong and brave and gorgeous.” He rambled before brushing a line of feather-light kisses up towards your jaw.

It made your heart ache with the longing to linger with this verbose version of him that had somehow been unleashed, but according to the clock above the door, you had to be on duty in two minutes.

“Ronald Speirs, you sweet talker.” You whispered weakly, setting down the tweezers, your task finally managed. “I hope you sleep well.”

“You know I will, thanks to you.” His eyes met yours warmly before he cupped your cheeks, pulling you in for one last searing kiss. “May I…write to you?” He asked, incongruously hesitant after all that had transpired.

Sliding your arms around his neck, you kissed his forehead. “You’d better. This lioness has claws.” You smirked in a playfully threatening manner, earning a broad grin in response.

————————————-

Band of Brothers Masterlist

Tag list: @bcon24 , @ronsparky

Post-script: Firstly, I agonized for several hours about whether or not to have Ron be married in this. Ultimately, after reading that Ronald Speirs asked his first wife not be mentioned in any way in the miniseries I decided to do the same here. Secondly, while I used a fake name for the Major who flew into Bastogne by glider, this is all based on real events that took place! I decided to use fictional characters here to justify the radical actions I had them take in bringing the reader, but you the story of Major Soutter and the men of the 12th Evacuation Hospital is really quite something!

[danopdf]

Ronald Speirs x Medic!Reader Headcanons

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

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

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

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

TOCCOA / NORMANDY

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

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

He leaves anonymous gifts for you on your cot

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

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

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

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

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

everybody notices to the point of constantly teasing you about it

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

“MUCK-!”

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

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

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

“Toye I swear to god!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you go dancing with me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi-” “You look-”

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

This boy can DANCE

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

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

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

You both drink quite a bit and get rather giggly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BASTOGNE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go.”

“‘Scuse me Sir?”

“Go spend Christmas with Sparky.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He kneels down next to you and Joe nudges you awake

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

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

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

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

“What’s up Ronnie?”

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

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

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

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

“Happy new year sweetheart.”

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

“Happy new year honey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he just holds you and you hold him

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HAGENEAU

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

GERMANY

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

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

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

You hold up your hand and see it flash again

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

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

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

“The sun!”

He looks up at you like you’re crazy

“The sun is out! And it’s warm!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then you find the camp

And everything seems just hopeless

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

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

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

Looking for some sort of comfort and thanking you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(which at this point is basically was)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

POST WAR

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you marry me?”

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

“Yes. I think I will.”

You guys are married within a year of him asking

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He love to garden after the war

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

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

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

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

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

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

how he sleeps head cannons:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you wake up because he starts to throw his arms around

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

Then his arms start to flail

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ron no-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EXTRAS

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

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

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

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

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

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

has a really deep morning voice

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

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

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

it starts off simple with items like candies and treats

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i think his love languages are;

giving: gift giving and acts of service, quality time

receiving: quality time, words of affirmation and physical touch

speaking of physical touch:

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

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

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

when y’all are in PRIVATE he LOVES making out

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

nsfw:

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

photos of you both mid sex

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

pull his hair please

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

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

fucked👏🏻you👏🏻on👏🏻his👏🏻desk👏🏻 

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

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

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

“i’ll come back later sir…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

you’re the only person who can top him

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

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

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

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

not necessarily risky when it comes to sex but has a bit of a kink for almost getting caught, (would never want you two to get actually caught since he’s “the only one allowed to see you like this”)

you guys have fucked in ever room in your house, just to run through a couple places:

living room: couch, every chair, floor (rug)

kitchen: kitchen table, counter (both over and on top of it), dining room table

bedroom: bed, chair, over the and on top of the dresser, against the door, against ye window (faces the backyard) 

bathrooms: bathtub, shower, lid closed (ya nasty) sitting on the toilet, against the door, tiled floor and the bath mat

office: desk (over it, on top of it, on the edge of it, eating you out/sucking him off leaning against the table/sitting on the edge of the chair), sitting on his lap in the chair, against the bookshelf, window nook, the arm chair

garage: in the car, on the hood of the car, against the door during parties, against the wall (the concrete causing you to arch your back from the cold rough texture)

closets (upstairs ones while guests are over and asking “where tf are our hosts?”

okay that’s my short list of places lmaooo

idc what parts you have Ron has a breeding kink

you guys love to cockwarm while reading it while one of you is doing work

likes to kiss you while you’re having sex but when you’re in control prefers when you bite and nip at him

has a slight choking kink

within the first 2 times you guys have sex he knows a) exactly what to do to get you going and b) where the most sensitive parts of your body are and WILL use that against you every chance he gets

this man whines when he gets too sensitive, is really calm and comfortable, or when you’re topping him and calling him nicknames

has a choking kink (on either of you)

he’s very vocal with grunts and either praise or degrading you, also moans the first time he’s in you, every time 

calls you: baby, sweetheart, perfect, (when more aggressive): cocksleeveve, slut, good boy/girl

will call you his personal medic/nurse/doctor

you call him: baby, lovey, good/perfect boy, daddy occasionally, captain speirs (which will get him to go to a whole other level)

you two have done some sexy medic/patient role play before both during the war and after (mayhaps a little morphine was involved, which was very hard to explain to Gene why you were down a bottle suddenly)

overstimulate each other

loves to watch you touch yourself, the way your body moves is like crack to him

you do this both when you’re trying to torture him (he’s tired to the headboard or a chair) or as a mutual masturbation thing

he is the perfect size, rides that sweet line between “ouch that’s too big” and “a slight stretch” where you tend to need a second when he sinks in for the first time but the stretch is always welcome

you both love when you give him head and when you pull back you’re connected to him with spit and cum

yall definitely had secret foxhole rendezvous (this is where his ‘hand over your mouth to keep you quiet’ kink came from)

after your first time together (on the wonderful Paris leave), you look over at him with watery eyes and just say “i love you so much.” he doesn’t hesitate with a “i love you more than anything.”

that instigates the softest second round of just sweet, loving kisses and quiet “i love you”’s  in between and when you finish

keeps asking you to wear your PT clothes (post war) because he can’t help but watch hot your body and muscles move under the tight shirt and short shorts

after weeks of him asking you surprise him by coming back from a light run in those clothes and he knows that it’s on

after some hot ass sex you ask him if he’ll wear his “your back and muscles look great in that shirt and your ass looks incredible in those shorts.”

within the week he pulls the same scenario of going out for a light run in that outfit and you jump his fucking bones

he likes it why you try to cover your moans and whines by biting your lip or with your hand or in a pillow but you just can’t help it and become so loud

you both like when the other gets watery eyes and starts getting all soft and sensitive and their eyes get wide and submissive

like to talk to you during sex, “you’re doing so good for me-“ “fuck you’re feel good baby-“, “you krio doing that i won’t last long-“, “you look so good when you ride me baby, oh fu—“

when he gets really close after a few rounds and is overstimulated and is almost crying (consensually) he pants and gasps and finishes with a cry and maybe a sob but he feels so good-

loves when you feel too much and you just sort of space out for a second or go silent because your brain just short circuits

maybe you squirt once and tried to do it for a whole night after that

once did it so much that he made you dehydrated (can that even happen? idk, but now it can.)

y’all have aftercare DOWN

you know exactly what the other needs after there are dom/sub roles in play or after just regular (incredible as usual) sex

cleaning each other in the shower or bath gentle, kissing so softly of sometimes just being near each other but not touching because you’re both so sensitive

tea and snacks in bed cuddled up after (or any food and hydration really)

if one of you is particularly tired after, the other reads to them while running their hair through their hair until the person on their lap/shoulder/chest fall asleep

aggressive angry sex (you’re never scared the other is going to hurt each other because you know that you’re never angry at each other (just something/someone else) and that you just need to get all of the aggression and energy out and maybe feel more in control of the world for a bit

talks you through it

“that feel good sweetheart? tell me how good it feels.”

“what’s wrong baby, you gonna cum for me again?”

“oh you just feel so good you can’t even think anymore! so drunk on my cock aren’t you sweetheart!” 

yell tease each other like it’s your job

that could mean verbally teasing each other or edging each other, or giving the other the gentlest touches and brushes, just barely touching the other for them to get anything other than a shiver of pleasure

slow dancing that just turned to grinding

This man makes me have thoughts I should not have, so I will stop here <3

[beemaya]

I'm reading Fierce Valor and there's a particular scene that I'd have loved in BoB. It was an encounter between Ron and Dike, during the Bastogne battle and it's just hilarious.

Fierce Valor: the true story of Ronald Speirs and his band of brothers, Jared Frederick and Erik Dorr, page 171

[lostloveletters]

You Can’t Start a Fire Without a Spark (Ron Speirs x Reader)

Summary: Night falls in Bavaria to victorious revelry, and at the goading of your friends, the lust you've been kindling in secret suddenly burns hot and wild to the touch.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used besides the slightest bit of backstory. Inspired by several Bruce Springsteen songs. This is based on the fictional portrayals in the HBO miniseries and not the real individuals. (Also, hi I’m Battie! This is my first Band of Brothers fic despite being a fan of the miniseries since 2016. Let me know what you think🖤) Do not interact if you’re under 18, are a terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Inherent power imbalance. Explicit content involving vaginal fingering and unprotected sex.

You weren’t sure how six of you managed to squeeze into a booth together in the Bavarian bar, elbow-to-elbow as you drank beer and shouted over each other. Sitting squished against Talbert, who was squished against Malarkey, one of your legs wasn’t even in the booth. On the other side of the table, Babe, Perconte, and Luz were in the same situation.

Victory in Europe had just been declared. The celebratory feeling filled your lungs with each breath despite the cloud of cigarette smoke that hung over the bar. With the war in Japan still raging on, the likelihood of those without enough points having to endure another drop remained up in the air. One night of fun wouldn’t hurt anybody. No one could say you hadn’t earned it.

Glancing around at your friends, the guys you lived and would’ve died for—even after the war ended, if you were being honest with yourself. You couldn’t imagine being closer with anyone else. Growing up without much of a family, passed around homes of distant relatives and near strangers until you had enough and ventured out on your own as a teen, you’d never had such strong connections before. The only reason you were even allowed to work so closely with Easy Company, was the absence of any next-of-kin, no one to cause a fuss if something went wrong while you were overseas. You were non-combat detail, of course, typing and running errands as needed, but more often than was likely ideal, you found yourself somewhere on the line with the medic training you’d gotten. 

You hadn’t been at Toccoa with them, only meeting most of the guys just before D-Day. After Operation Market Garden’s failure in Holland, they came around to you upon the return to Aldbourne, least surprising of whom was Talbert, ever so kindly taking you under his wing when he was recovering from being accidentally stabbed by Smith. The two of you became close friends, and though you heard of his exploits with women in just about every city the company passed through, he seemed hellbent on being your wingman, trying to set you up with at least half a dozen members of Easy to little success. 

With the taste of sweet victory and bold German beer on everyone’s lips, declarations of what and who everyone would ideally do to celebrate poured from your friends with little prompting. Knowing you well enough at that point, Tab took the opportunity to get you in on the conversation, the light mood and buzz in your system leaving you more loose-lipped than usual.

“Alright, our company’s eligible bachelorette,” Tab said, conspiratorial mirth in his voice. “Fraternization rules to the dust, which of Easy’s officers would you do your celebrating with?”

Your lips twitched, failing to suppress your smile as your drinking buddies awaited your answer. “Speirs.”

Finishing off the rest of your beer, you stifled your amusement at the clamor that ensued. Undoubtedly the least expected answer, part of Tab’s failure to secure a date for you among his comrades was your infatuation with the legendary captain—closely guarded, until you had a beer or two in you, apparently. 

“Speirs?” Babe repeated incredulously.

“No way,” Malarkey said, shaking his head. “No fucking way.”

“They need to get you to one of those headshrinkers,” Perconte said.

“Hold on a minute,” Tab said with an amused smile, trying to reign in the chaos. “Let’s hear her out.”

“You wanna know why?” you asked.

Ever since Speirs stuck with Easy Company after Bastogne, you worked closely with him as you did the other officers, taking notes and keeping memos for them. Speirs often requisitioned you to type up reports for him, finding it easier to dictate what he wanted written to you than typing them himself. Sometimes you found his attention drifting off when it was a more mundane report, his words trailing away while he looked at you, typically slouched on a chair or couch at the end of a long day. You would let yourself take him in, hoping the perceptive man wouldn’t notice the way your eyes trailed up his long, outstretched legs to his disheveled hair. 

He provided the most attention to battlefield exploits, and at times you couldn’t keep up with how fast he was speaking or would find yourself a bit startled by some of the gruesome details he relayed. You’d heard the rumors about him. Everyone had. But a disgustingly repressed part of you that’d emerged at some point during the war was secretly thrilled by them, almost hoping they were true. 

“Well, you owe us that much,” Luz said.

“I owe you all jack and shit.”

“What if I buy you another drink?”

“I think I’m gonna need another one after hearing this,” Babe muttered.

“Let’s see, why would I sleep with Captain Speirs,” you said, playfully tapping your chin in faux thought. “For starters, he’s fine as hell, which should be reason enough. I like that he’s a no-nonsense kinda guy. He has this intensity that I think is really sexy.”

The cacophony of bewilderment and objection that filled the booth met its slow death when the occupant of the booth behind yours got up. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry when you saw it was Speirs.

He made his way out of the pub, your light mood with him. 

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “Do you think he heard?”

“No way he didn’t,” Malarkey said.

“Fuck, I need to do something before I get demoted or transferred or something.”

Tab grinned. “Well, if you’re not walking straight tomorrow, we’ll know you did something.”

“Shut up, jerk!” you hissed. “I’m in this mess because of you.”

He gave you a mocking salute.

You flipped him off as you got up from the table, running after your CO who more than likely overheard you expressing to your buddies that you’d enthusiastically have sex with him. Of course it happened the one time you actually joined in on their vulgarity.

Unlike his silent stride, your boots pounded against the pavement, announcing your approach to him.

He turned around abruptly, and you nearly fell over your own feet as you stopped in your tracks. 

His intense gaze on you felt like being at the end of his rifle’s sight. “Are you drunk, Y/L/N?”

“No—no, sir.”

“Good. I could use your help with a report.”

You stared at him blankly. A report. At ten o’clock at night. “Of course, sir. Anything you need.”

The corners of his lips upturned for a split second. “I’m sure.” Fuck. He’d definitely heard you.

The two of you started off down the street, toward a more residential area wherein officers had requisitioned houses for the US Army’s use for the foreseeable future. Almost dreamily picturesque, tree branches waved at you in the cool night breeze, the surrounding mountains illuminated by the bright fullness of the moon. From the soft glow of street lamps lighting your way, something you’d previously taken for granted, you tried not to stare at him. In the warm glow of that balmy summer evening, however, he looked almost too good to be true. Hair slightly unkempt, the whisper of stubble along his jaw and cheeks, surely his face would feel like heaven between your thighs. 

Soldiers in all states of drunkenness ambled up and down either side of the street, hollering and singing in carefree celebration. Speirs placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you past a group of men who could hardly walk straight. One of them walked right into you, his head nearly colliding with yours.

“Fuck,” the young soldier grumbled under his breath, shooting you a dirty look for being in his way.

Speirs wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you aside to stand in front of you. “Private,” he snapped, staring down the young man who looked like he was about to shit himself. “I advise you get yourself together and watch where you’re going.”

“Yes, sir—Captain Speirs, sir,” he said, turning his attention to you. “Sorry, ma’am.”

You nodded silently, and the private ran off after his buddies. 

Speirs turned to you, his hands on your shoulders as his intense gaze searched your face for any sign of injury.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

In Hagenau, one of the replacements had been pestering you the moment he laid eyes on you. At first, you humored him, supposing he needed a friend, as the men who’d been through Normandy and Bastogne were understandably closed-off and tight knit. Thought the new guys were too green, too eager to do something stupid and get someone killed in pursuit of battlefield glory that was too haunting to exist. 

Then he started getting handsy, not enough to be outright inappropriate, but enough to make you uncomfortable. You weren’t sure what possessed you to mention it to Speirs when he’d asked you how you were doing one afternoon. His brow furrowed, he gave you a silent nod in response. The replacement had been transferred elsewhere the following day.

Though Speirs stared right at you, there was something far away in his eyes as he squeezed your shoulders. 

“I’m fine, sir,” you repeated. “I promise.”

“Hmm? Oh, right,” he said softly. 

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, not bothering to offer you one. You were in the minority of people who didn’t smoke, allowing you to leverage the packs in your rations to trade amongst the men. As time went on, you’d leave them on top of your finished reports for Speirs, especially if they were Luckys. You watched silently as he lit the cigarette in his mouth, a shining silver lighter in his hand. His eyes drifted from the flame back to you, though you noticed the slightest spark behind them.

The rest of the walk was uneventful until you reached the house. A few stragglers hung around on the street outside, their voices becoming the slightest bit more hushed as they watched you follow Speirs inside. By the time the front door shut, they’d already begun speculating why the two of you were going to his place so late. With the way the men spread gossip, you could hazard a guess as to what the tale would morph into by the morning. You silently bemoaned the prospect of the night hardly being as interesting as whatever they conjured up.

Following him upstairs, the makeshift office seemed especially cramped with the boxes and papers that were haphazardly spread around the place. It’d probably take weeks to sift through it all, especially since a glance at one of the files appeared to be in German. Getting help wouldn’t be the issue, but rather the fact that none of the members of Easy who knew German were particularly inclined toward office work, becoming restless after an hour or so. 

A problem for another time, however. Glancing at the clock, it was nearly half past ten, and you were almost inclined to ask Speirs about coffee, depending on how long he expected the report to take. You sat down at the desk, ready to begin typing the date when you noticed the ink was out.

“Is there any typewriter ribbon around, sir?” you asked.

He nodded. “Should be in one of the drawers.”

You opened the drawer immediately to your right, finding a mess of stationary that had clearly been shoved in carelessly. Or maybe someone had taken something out of it in a hurry. Digging through it, you came up empty, and moved onto the drawer below it. No dice. The one to your left didn’t have typewriter ribbon either, at least, you would have been surprised to find it tucked in with the loot that nearly filled the thing to the brim–shining silverware, glistening jewelry, and trinkets that someone with a keener eye than you had clearly decided were valuable enough to keep. 

His extensive looting was an open secret, but a glimpse of this treasure trove was a shock to the system. So entranced by the contents of the drawer, you didn’t hear him walk up beside you until his shadow fell over the necklaces and rings you silently coveted.  

He gave you a sly smile, wolfish in the dim lighting. “Haven’t had much of a chance to organize those.”

“They’re beautiful,” you whispered in awe, gingerly touching a pearl necklace.

“Try them on.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go ahead.”

You picked up the string of pearls, a nervousness washing over you at holding something so valuable, something of his. Walking over to the window, the nearest reflective surface you could find, you pulled the necklace on, garish against your uniform. You tried shaking off the odd feeling of playing dress-up in front of your commanding officer, a girlish whim he inexplicably allowed you to indulge in. His expression was unreadable when you turned around for him.

“They suit you,” he finally said, brushing his fingers against the pearls, slowly drifting lower to the exposed skin of your decollete. “Keep them.”

It wasn’t uncommon for him to bring you small gifts every now and then—typewriter ribbon, fountain pens, chocolate, trinkets. You knew better than to question where he got them, as he seemed to give them to you at the perfect moment. The stationary supplies when you were running low on them, chocolate and trinkets when you were feeling down. At times they’d be accompanied by notes from him. Usually short, but so sincere you treasured them more than the gifts. Whenever you’d try to thank him, he’d just shrug, almost dismissing the gesture.

This time, feeling bold in the cover of night, you pressed your lips to his cheek, uttering a quiet “thank you.”

He didn’t react. Disappointed, you moved to sit back down at the desk until he grabbed your arm, gently pulling you back to him.

“Were you telling the truth?” he asked, his voice a husky, demanding whisper. “Back at the bar.”

“Yes.”

“So if I said I’ve wanted you in a bad way since Bastogne?”

You kissed him, an explosion of warmth in your chest as you tangled your fingers in his hair. He settled his hands on your hips, squeezing them with a tenderness that betrayed his longing. Parting your lips for him, you allowed him to deepen the kiss, wanting to see how far he’d take it. 

Almost overwhelmed by his gentle intensity, you pulled away from his lips, though his mouth chased yours, capturing yet another kiss from you.

“Show me how you want me,” you pleaded with desperate kisses to his face, trailing down to his throat where you could feel the way he groaned in pleasure at your touch. 

“In my room,” he managed to say. “I wanna lay you on the bed and–”

“Anything, anything you want, Ron.”

His lips slightly blushed from the ferocity of your kiss, he parted his mouth as if to speak, but instead took your hand firmly in his. 

He led you straight down the nondescript hallway that nevertheless left you feeling turned around, dizzied by your desire for him. A door opened, and you were promptly pulled inside the room. The click of the lock behind you sent a slight shiver down your spine. 

Pulled into his arms again, you lost yourself in his fervent kiss, until you reached down, palming his hardening cock through his pants. He moaned into your mouth, the sound only exacerbating the heat between your thighs, the ache inside of you that up until that point had been abated by your fingers, always rushed, never satisfying the urge to be filled–by him, preferably. From the way he felt beneath your hand, he could do all of that and more. 

And after the months of silently, almost guiltily lusting after him like a nun, he wanted you too. The ego boost emboldened you. “Did you ever think about me when you were alone?” you asked, giving his bulge a gentle squeeze.

“Yes–fuck,” he groaned.

“Like what?”

“Besides keeping me warm in that goddamn forest? This–I thought of this,” he murmured against your lips. “But I didn’t let myself think of a future with you. I couldn’t have survived if I did.”

“And now?”

“I want everything you’ll give me, sweetheart.”

“Lucky you, that’s exactly what I wanna give.”

He smiled slightly, his hands hastily working to unbutton your shirt. “Lucky–except you’re wearing too many clothes.”

You reached for the pearls, about to take them off when he caught your wrist in his hand.

“Leave them on.” His voice was steady, authoritative, the closest he sounded to Speirs since he scolded the private who walked into you earlier. 

Weak in the knees, you acquiesced to the one and only order your captain would give you that night. You otherwise undressed, your uniform in a pile at your feet. Your bra and panties were simple, certainly not the sexy lingerie you’d fantasized about seducing Ron in, but his eyes blazed as if your body were hugged by an inviting satin set. A burst of confidence rushed through you, and you held his gaze as you discarded your bra and panties. 

You laid back on the bed as he undressed, watching intently until he was down to nothing more than his underwear, his hard cock straining against the fabric. He pulled them off, and you sucked in a breath at how big he was. Erect, at attention for you, all the more intimidating as he approached, joining you on the bed. His daring in the line of fire sure as hell wasn’t compensating for anything.

He straddled your hips, his eyes taking in your naked form with a primal intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. He reached down, two of his fingers circling your clit, your body trembled beneath his touch. By the way he studied how your face contorted in pleasure as a foreign-sounding moan rose from deep in your chest, you could tell it was payback for your teasing him just minutes before. 

His fingers shifted, slipping inside your wet core with ease. He pumped them in and out at a steady pace that made your stomach tighten and toes curl, but slowly bringing you closer to orgasm. You bucked your hips when he curled his fingers inside of you, blood rushing in your ears so loud that you could hardly hear the obscene sounds coming from your pussy. A lump formed in your throat, one that made you nearly howl in frustration.

“Who got you this worked up, sweetheart?” he asked, nipping the shell of your ear.

A whimper. “You.”

“What was that?”

“You.” Through a haze of lust-soaked desperation, you took his face in your hands. “Don’t make me beg, Sparky. It’s always been you.”

He pulled his hand from between your legs, and you nearly whined until he slid his length inside your pussy, your walls clenching around his cock. You braced yourself on his shoulder blades, your nails doing a number on him as you dug them into his taut skin while he thrust into you. Carefully at first, almost frustratingly so, until you cried, “More.”

He was bigger than you were used to, even before the war, but the slight discomfort was drowned out by the way his steady, deep thrusts filled you. He ducked his head down, taking one of your breasts in his mouth, his hand groping the other. Sucking on your breast, his teeth grazed your nipple, the hint of pain complimenting the pleasure. Your climax was so close you could see it if you closed your eyes, raw and vulnerable.

“Ron, I’m so close,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”

He lifted his head, nodding. “Where should I–”

“Inside–fuck–I want you to cum inside me.”

And he did, with an erratic thrust that pushed him deeper inside you still. You kissed him as your pussy milked his cock, lifting your hips to grind against him for the slightest bit of friction to your clit. You threw your head back as you came, an obscene moan escaping your lips as pleasure spread across your body, white-hot like a star in supernova.

His name fell from your lips, laced with curses, over and over like a vulgar prayer. He pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your decollete, his lips brushing the pearls that stuck to your sweat-sheened skin until he shuddered, bottoming out in you. 

He pulled out slowly, his toned chest heaving before he collapsed next to you. Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes, silently offering you one. You declined, and he placed one between his lips, using a nearby match to light it before taking you in his arms. You settled comfortably against his chest, closing your eyes for a few moments.

“So, what about that report?” you asked slyly when you’d finally caught your breath.

His quiet laughter rumbled in his chest, and he took a drag from his cigarette, his gaze betraying his adoration as he looked at you. “I might need your help again tomorrow night."

Knowing it was too risky for you to spend the night, he reluctantly let you leave around three in the morning, a slight pout on his face as you took off the pearl necklace and tucked it into your pocket. You left him with a passionate parting kiss, one that he used to nearly convince you to stay just a little bit longer until you quietly promised you’d report to him first thing. 

The streets were mostly deserted except for the men on patrol. You kept your head down, booking it back to where you were quartered, hoping your arrival wouldn’t wake anyone up, or at least raise any questions.

Just your luck, you ran right into Tab, a shit-eating grin on his face at your disheveled appearance. “I knew it."

[obessedwithfictionalmen]

Disguise

Ronald Speirs X Soldier! Reader

Summary: Y/n is hiding as a men in order to fight, but Speirs finds out...

Warning: Misgender/ use of Y/n/ inaccuracies of the show (it's been a while since I've watched it)/ swearing/

Word count: 1k

A/n: Band of Brothers fics! Yeah!!! Like I said, it's been a while since I've watched BoB, and I'm in my finals so it might not be 100% accurate.

Cold, she was cold. Y/n was hiding in her foxhole, freezing her tits off. But she couldn’t say it out loud, since she was under disguise. She wanted to do her part, not as a nurse or anything, she wanted to fight. So, she cut her hair, taped her boobs and talked in a low voice. But now, in Bastogne, she was afraid that she would be discovered. The only person that knew was Eugene Roe, because she got hurt on her rib and he saw the bandages holding her tits. He promised that he wouldn’t say anything, for now, he didn’t reveal her secrets.

It's been a while since she could get her hands on scissors to cut her hair, the only pair that she could find were immediately seized by Eugene, he needed it. Her hair was long enough for her to braid, so that’s what she did at night, her hair was in a crowned braid, it was easy to hide under her helmet. Some boys were questioning her lack of beard, her answer was that she couldn’t grow facial hair. In the beginning, it was easy to hide herself, but when Ronald Spiers came, it was hard. He was one of the best soldiers she’d ever seen, he saved them from Lieutenant Dike and the mess he put Easy into. That night, Spiers talked to Y/n and she began to have a crush on him. ‘’What’s on y’a mind?’’ Eugene asked her. They shared the same foxhole; it was his way to protect her in case guys discovered that she was a woman and they wanted to touch her in an inappropriate way. ‘’Nothing, I’m just fucking cold’’ she replied. ‘’Renee gave me chocolate, want some?’’ he offered her a piece of candy, she took it, thanked him and ate the piece.

The sun was rising, the smell of soup filled her nostrils. ‘’Reed, want some?’’ Bill Guarnere asked, handing a cup to her. ‘’Yeah, thanks’’ she replied in her men voice, she got up from her foxhole and took the cup. ‘’Boys’’ Captain Winters greeted the men. ‘’Captain’’ they all said, saluting him. ‘’Got any words on Dike?’’ he asked. ‘’Nope, he ran away like a little girl!’’ Lipton joked, making the men laugh. Y/n laughed with a deep voice. Speirs came walking towards the men, Y/n took a cup and filled it with soup. ‘’Lieutenant, soup?’’ she offered, he took the cup and began eating. Nixon called Winters, the two men began talking, Winters smiled. That’s how Y/n understood that they were leaving the cold hell. ‘’Guys! Good news, we’re leaving Bastogne! Pack your things we’re leaving at 1000’’ he ordered. Men started to cheer around, Y/n smiled and pat Gene’s back.

The Sisters were signing, Y/n was in another room. When Easy arrived in that church, one Sister took the ‘men’ aside and instantly knew her secret. So, Y/n was put in another room so she could take the bandage off, to free a breast a little. They also allowed her to take a shower. ‘’Sister, you won’t tell anyone about me, are you?’’ she questioned. The older woman shook her head. ‘’You, my dear, are a soldier. Not a man, not a woman, a soldier, you fight for us, and I’m grateful for that’’ she took Y/n’s hands and she explained. ‘’Thank you’’ Y/n whispered. She could hear the singing, but she just wanted to rest. Y/n laid on the small bed and waited for sleep to get her, but it never did. Instead, someone barged in the small room, unaware of the woman. Y/n didn’t try to cover herself, since she thought it was Sister Margaret, but it wasn’t. ‘’Private Reed?’’ Ronald Speirs asked, confused by the situation. He opened the door to reveal a woman laid in a bed, that woman looked just like Private Reed. ‘’Shit, fuck’’ he heard the woman mumble as she tried to cover up. ‘’Uh, yes, Lieutenant Spiers?’’ she stuttered. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. ‘’You’re a, uh, girl?’’ he asked confused. Y/n took a deep breath and scoffed at the word girl. ‘’Woman, yes, I am’’ she replied, a little offended.

He closed the door behind him, to avoid anyone else finding out about her. ‘’How?’’ he asked, sitting in the small stairs in front of the door. ‘’How what?’’ He pointed her body. ‘’Put bandages on my breasts, cut my hair, braided them when they were too long, and I used my middle and last name to enter. Blake Reed’’ she explained. ‘’What’s your real name?’’ he asked. ‘’Y/n, sir’’ she said, afraid that he was going to rat her out. ‘’Nice to really meet you, Y/n’’ he said, smiling. She smiled nervously, what was going on. She was risking a lot, she could die! ‘’Are you going to tell everyone?’’ she asked, her voice cracking at the same time. He shook his head. ‘’What would be the benefit of that? We don’t have enough soldiers, and from what I’ve heard, you’re a goddamn good soldier’’ he simply said. Y/n bit the inside of her cheek at the semi compliment. ‘’Uh, thank you, Lieutenant’’ she stuttered. He checked her out, she had an amazing body, her uniform was definitely hiding stuff. ‘’Can I offer you a smoke?’’ he proposed. She smirked, was he going to kill her? ‘’Thank you, but, uh, I don’t smoke’’ she politely declined. ‘’You should get ready; we’re getting sent to another place’’ he said. She nodded as an agreement as he left the room.

When she gets into the bigger room, she sees Speirs talking with Winters. Her mind starts to spin, what the hell is he talking about? ‘’Blake? Where have you been?’’ Luz asks. ‘’I’ve been walking around town’’ she lied with her man voice. ‘’Boys, sit down!’’ Winters ordered, Y/n went to sit beside Lipton, with a lump in her throat. She was nervously playing with her fingers. ‘’We’re going to another town. Dike is nowhere to be seen, so Lieutenant Spiers is now your captain’’ Winters announces. Y/n takes a deep breath as she rises from the bench, just like the others, to salute their new Captain. As he was being saluted, Spiers looked at Y/n and smiled, she was a brave and beautiful woman, he had a lot of respect for her, and a little bit of a crush…

[bloodstainedsaint]

noises in the bedroom with ron, lew, lieb, luz, and shifty

word count: 770+

warnings: reader has female genitalia, degradation (only in ron's), praise, teasing, i call nixon a whore for the reader (it's true)

notes: i couldn't include babe in this one cause i just decided that i would write for him (and therefore i must do Research) but hope you guys enjoy anyway !!

ronald speirs

big on praise-degradation, like 50/50 on it

unless you managed to really set him off (ex; make him jealous on purpose, tease him, be a brat, etc.), then don't expect very many kind words

he can be so mean and unfair when he wants to, but by the end of it he’s worshiping you like you're a deity

he’ll call you a slut but his slut, yk?

could not care less about who hears — no one's gonna confront him about it anyway with his reputation, and they're definitely not coming up to you either since they know ron is going to be death glaring them the whole time

he groans and grunts huskily + openly and encourages you to not cover up/muffle your sounds with your hand

(quickies are, of course, the exception since that would be unsafe, and if higher-ups are around, obviously he's about to care; in any other situation though, no one is safe from hearing the two of you)

lewis nixon

somehow his moans are louder than yours???

LIKE that's not a bad thing, it just means he's enjoying it just as much as you but he's just so vocal about it, saying your name or princess, doll, sweetheart like his life depended on it

(he's such a whore for you, especially when he goes down on you. you're gonna be feeling the vibrations of his groans bc omg is he obsessed with eating you out…but that's another story)

this is mostly because he also does not care who hears (same exceptions as ron). i imagine dick having to come talk to you all flustered, his face matching his hair and his eyes cast to the ground, asking you guys to keep it down

…nixon definitely didn't get any play for two weeks after that

despite being the #1 slut for you, he still manages to tease you, saying things like, “tell me how bad you want it.” (as if he doesn't want it just as bad)

joseph liebgott

he's probably the biggest pottymouth out of the five

anything he does is followed up by a hoarse “fuck, doll” or “shit, (y/n)”

he's trying to cover up the fact that he's a bit of a whiner/panter

he’ll kiss marks onto and around your breasts to muffle the sound of his moans

definitely says “yeah, you like that?” or “that feel good, baby?” during foreplay, smirking down at you while you’re begging for more (he's a little cocky with it)

becomes soft during and afterwards; he's scared to be vulnerable but he can't help telling you how pretty you look, how good you feel, and how much he loves you

will probably confess some of these things in german so he's not as vulnerable, but you still get the gist either way (and if you do understand german, he's screwed)

george luz

honestly he's just kind of unserious, like this man is giggling he's so happy to be with you (and his laughter and smile are infectious so now you're laughing too and telling him to shut up)

he’ll praise you with jokes, telling you you're prettier than any pinup model

“rita doesn't have anything on you, beautiful.” cue you rolling your eyes with a smile and telling him he’s cheesy

he's a little bit of a cusser too (especially when you play with his hair), not to the level of lieb though

“damn, (y/n), i'm lucky you're all mine.”

eventually the jokes and goofiness dissolve into him straight up telling you how good you feel around him and that you're especially gorgeous like this

+ him confessing his love for you when he's still catching his breath

“(y/n), have i ever told you how much i love you?”

“maybe 100 times today, george”

“oh so not enough then” you kiss him before he can remind you again

shifty powers

loves to praise you (and be praised honestly)

like he swears up and down that you're the most perfect girl alive

he can't believe that you're his and he's yours

kind of shy about his moans but he can't stop himself/hide them well enough because he moans at the slightest touch (he's so in love with you)

whimpers when you say he's making you feel good and “don't stop”

he's definitely asking if you're sure about anything and everything, reminding you that you don't have to go through with this if you don't absolutely want to

you just have to be like “darrell c. powers, please just take me” and lord will he oblige you with the brightest goddamn smile on his face

-

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101, @samwinchesterslostshoe

[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

[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.

[mlmxreader]

The Favourite | Ronald Speirs x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: "Stop looking at me like that." "Like what?" "Like I mean everything to you." m!reader x slightly insecure ron speirs

summary: Speirs isn't in the best of moods, but thankfully, you know how to cheer him up.

tws: jealousy, insecurity, swearing, smoking

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

"I can guarantee you, right here and right now, that he's looking at you," Perveen said, sharpening his kirpan as he sat on the bench outside the shed.

You shrugged, taking a drag from your cigarette as you hummed and laid down on the soft, warm grass. "Yeah, but he's been so… I dunno. He hasn't spoken to me since we last went out."

He stopped sharpening the blade for a second, and looked over at the American soldier who was watching you longingly from the divide between RAF and US military grounds, and huffed. "He's looking at you."

"Perveen," you grumbled.

"Oi!" He shouted. "Speirs! He's over here!"

You rolled your eyes, grumbling under your breath as you shook your head. "What the fuck, man?"

He stood up, still shouting. "Speirs! Your! Boyfriend! Is! Here!"

Speirs didn't move, though, so he sat back down and he shook his head.

"Told you," you mumbled. "He doesn't wanna see me."

Perveen shook his head, and wiped a few droplets of sweat that had made it past the layers of his dastar on the back of his sleeve. "The boy is an idiot, I'm not sure what else to tell you."

"I dunno what even happened," you admitted quietly. "All was alright, y'know, we were out, and then Winters came up to talk to me and congratulate me on eighty Nazis shot down, and… then Speirs just kinda ignored me since."

Perveen laughed, doubling over as he grinned brightly and filled the air with his obnoxiously infectious laughter. "He's fucking jealous."

"Speirs?" You scoffed. "Jealous? He's the best looking man in all of America, not to mention he's funny, he's smart, he's-"

"You might fawn over him," he interjected. "But how do you think he feels when another man fawns over you?"

You shut up, frowning as you swallowed thickly and sighed. "Probably like shit."

"Well, yeah, because he's an idiot," Perveen shrugged. "But still. He's your idiot - you feed him, you walk him, you make sure he's shaved so I don't have to cut him like a sheep. And you go talk to him and stop him from being an idiot."

"Thanks, Adil," you said softly, finishing your cigarette before heading over to the divide.

Speirs didn't look good, the scruff on his jaw was unkempt, his hair was a mess, his usually pretty eyes were adorned by bags, the tip of his nose was red from sniffling and wiping it, and although you wanted to speak, you couldn't bring yourself to do anything except pull a handkerchief from your pocket and gently wipe his nose.

"You need to look after yourself," you mumbled quietly. "Who else am I gonna bicker with if you don't?"

Speirs grumbled, but couldn't help but to quietly ask, "is that all I am? Someone you bicker with?"

"I bicker with many people," you laughed softly. "But it's you I love bickering with the most, you asshole."

He wanted to smile, but couldn't find it in himself as he clenched his jaw. "You and Winters, huh?"

You shook your head, gently pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. "Oh, Ron… you're a fool."

"What?"

"You really think I'd take Winters over you?" You asked softly. "When you're the best partner in the world?"

"I dunno… people say he's handsome… he's a better man than I am."

"Ronald," you growled, gently taking his chin between your index finger and thumb so he had no choice but to look at you. "Listen to me, now. You're the most handsome man in America. You're the smartest. You're by far the bravest. The kindest. Also the most stubborn and argumentative, but I'm not lying when I say that I love that about you."

Speirs dared to smile a little as he nodded. "Okay."

"I love you," you told him sincerely. "There's no man I'd rather be with."

"Please," he murmured. "Stop saying that, and stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I mean everything to you."

You scoffed, and clambered over the rope so that you were firmly on US military soil, your arms around his neck as you pulled him in so close. "It's because you are everything to me. There's no one, and I mean fucking no one, on this planet that I'd rather bicker with morning, noon and night. There's no one I'd rather argue with, and then ten minutes later, I'm kissing."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you nodded, letting him back you right up against the rope as he put his hands on your sides and kept you so close to his body that you could feel his gentle breathing. "I love you."

Speirs cracked a broken smile, and dared to take a look around before he gently kissed you; usually, his kisses were heavy and full of need and want, but now they were sweet and soft. You couldn't help but to smile.

"Just don't come onto our side," you warned upon pulling away. "Perveen's making threats about shaving you like a sheep."

He laughed, nodding as he licked his lips. "You like it, though, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do," you hummed, gently tracing the prickly and tickly scruff on his jaw. "But it would be funny to see Perveen shave you like a sheep."

"You're an asshole," he chuckled. "Y'know that, right?"

"Well, so are you," you pointed out. "But I still love you."

"You'd let me get shaved just so you could laugh," Speirs pointed out. "I wouldn't call that love."

"I would," you grinned. "It'd be great entertainment."

"See?" He scoffed, grinning. "You're an ass."

"And yet," you grinned back, trying to hold back the giddy laughter. "You're stuck with me."

"There's no one else I'd rather be stuck with," he murmured.

"Good," you hummed. "Because you're not getting rid of me."

"No?"

"Nope," you shook your head. "And uh, for the record?"

"Yeah?"

"You are Perveen's favourite," you said quietly, putting your hand on his chest. "And you're my favourite, too."

[luminouslywriting]

hello, i would like to place an order for BoB! how would they react if they dated a shy girl? ☺️

Nonny, this is such a darling idea and I have SO MANY thoughts! I didn't include ALL of the Easy men because there's so many of them, so have a few and let me know what you think! Requests are open and I simply love getting BoB requests!

Dick Winters:

-A soft and sweet-natured man that doesn't push boundaries and is so so so respectful of your shy demeanor.

-Really tries to get to know you before he expresses any interest in dating you because he doesn't want to scare you off

-He's a very reassuring presence so if you're ever nervous in public, he's going to be right by your side the entire time

-Loves getting alone time with you and getting to hear all of the thoughts you don't feel comfortable sharing in public

-Isn't into PDA anyway, but definitely loves kissing your hand to say goodbye. It's just a sweet and tender gesture to let you know how much you mean to him.

-Would, in fact, write you love letters

Lewis Nixon:

-Super chill about it and not overly pushy when it comes to your boundaries; you're perfect the way that you are and he never misses an opportunity to express that

-Definitely gives some light teasing when you get shy around him and loves to see you blush

-Likes holding your hand when you're in public places so that you know you're not alone

-Doesn't like socializing much with other people ANYWAY, so he'll use you as an excuse to skip out and relax with you instead

-Kisses the crown of your head as a comforting gesture when you're anxious about things or overstimulated

-Really good at initiating conversations and getting you talking when it's just the two of you; plus he loves to see you laugh!

Ronald Speirs:

-This man is an introvert KING anyway, so there's definitely some comfortable silence between the two of you

-And if anyone is ever making you feel uncomfortable or anxious, it's the scary dog privilege (pun intended) that he gets to have as he glares at people

-Would guide you through a crowded room with his hand on the small of your back and keep an arm around you as a physical reassurance

-Gets really soft with you and is able to open up and get you talking/share his own thoughts and feelings. It's a sign that he's comfortable with you for sure.

-Not big on PDA at all, but eye contact is his thing if you're in public. He always has an eye on you and is making sure that you're okay.

-Prefers the quiet nights when it's just the two of you talking, most likely during pillow-talk and he just gets to be really intimate and open with you.

Buck Compton:

-This man is so extroverted and everyone just loves being around him but he loves being around you because you have such a calming effect on other people.

-He definitely is the chatterbox in this relationship, but he loves that you're such a good listener and he always tries to reciprocate that when you want to talk.

-Is very good at reading nonverbal cues and knows exactly when you want to leave somewhere or if you're getting overwhelmed

-Post-war, he's definitely a little more selectively social and gets flustered in social situations easily; you're able to be his rock and something as simple as holding his hand grounds him

-20/10 would rather be cuddling you than out with other people though

-Is respectfully pursuing you and trying to get to know you in the most genuinely sweet way possible—and loves when you share things with him

Carwood Lipton:

-A soft sweetheart who is rather introverted himself, though he's good with people. That being said, he's the perfect man to have an S/O that's shy.

-He's a great listener, knows how to communicate and ask the right sort of questions to get to the root of things, and never just offers solutions/advice unless you're asking for it

-Loves to be next to you and holding your hand in public

-Will hype you up for certain social situations that you have to go to; and never misses an opportunity to tell you how amazing and great you are

-Doesn't really care much what other people think, but he cares about what YOU think and what your thoughts are.

-Gives the best hugs after social interactions or things that cause anxiety

Joseph Liebgott:

-This man can and would and HAS thrown hands over people being mean or rude with how shy you are

-Is fiercely protective of you and your sweet demeanor—even if it's you putting yourself down, it's not going to fly with him

-He's a very verbal person and he's going to need you to tell him if you're feeling overwhelmed or anxious, though he is doing his best to pay attention to such things

-A cuddler and a clingy boyfriend anyway?? So even if you're shy about PDA, there's no getting around how much he needs to be touching you or be around you

-Is an excellent hype-man in the sense that he's trash-talking everyone else for not being cool enough or man enough to talk to you or to try and get to know you

-Is very soft when it's just the two of you and loves kissing your brow

Donald Malarkey:

-Absolute sweetheart to you from the get-go and isn't pushy at all about trying to get to know you

-In fact, sharing something with you might just be the way that he captures your heart haha; a shared piece of chocolate, notes for a class, whatever it might be, he's doing something simple and sweet to get you to notice him

-Never pushes you to talk about things that you don't want to talk about; and definitely rambles about some random stuff in the relationship

-Loves seeing you smile and just wants you to be happy

-Isn't big on PDA either, but would definitely hold your hand in public

-Not about to throw hands but he will call people out if they're being rude or aggressive when you're feeling particularly shy

Eugene Roe:

-A genuine angel?? Like this man is already an introvert and so being with you is just heaven for him

-Speaks really soft in French to compliment you and will not translate, given the fact that you will surely blush and get all shy on him haha

-Leaves you sweet love notes all over the place

-Definitely doesn't leave your side when you're out in public and is really attentive to you being uncomfortable in situations or overstimulated

-Would be just as happy to dance with you in the backyard of your home as the sun is setting than to go out in public to a dance or something

-Compliments about your shyness and how it just makes you a kinder and more genuine person

Bill Guarnere:

-Mouthy king who DOES NOT understand how he even ended up with you in the first place???

-But worry not, because he's out here ready to defend your honor (or whatever he thinks that is) at any given time. No one gets to tease you about your shyness except for him.

-Nicknames related to your shy demeanor that are only lightly teasing

-Is really soft when it's just the two of you and wants to give you the entire world haha

-He knows when he needs to tone things down and when he just needs to be your person

-Definitely gets slightly dramatic when it's just the two of you and treats you like an actual princess

Joe Toye:

-Perfectly calm with a shy person and honestly prefers the quiet life that the two of you get to lead together

-He's not SUPER extroverted, but he's perfectly happy getting to be the person who orders things for you or who does the talking.

-Asks and checks on how you're doing when you're out in public and keeps an eye on how other people are interacting with you. If he so much as senses that other people are gonna be too much, he will insert himself into the conversation to mediate.

-Loves napping and cuddling with you after long social activities

-Figured out that music is a really good way to say things without having to say things—so dancing together quietly is a good way to initiate conversations

-Communication is really important to him and so is hearing what you're thinking about; it's the best part of his day

George Luz:

-How did you end up together anyhow?? This man probably joked and offended you, felt bad—did some romantic gesture—and then learned how to be soft in your presence and tone things down

-Would, in fact, verbally decimate people who decide to be stand-offish or rude

-Always makes it a point to make you laugh when you're nervous or particularly shy—it seems to help you relax in social interactions

-Cheek kisses in public

-Brags about you all of the time to anyone he talks to

-Never misses an opportunity to compliment you and let you know that he loves you

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Good Girl

So this has been the long awaited ‘Kinky Ron’ fic requested by @ronsparky which sparked the whole creation of the discord chat with @malarkgirlypop. It is finally here and will most likely be in two parts of people want to see what happens. I’m sorry this fic took so long Jess but I hope you like it. Warnings: sexual images, swearing, Winters being awkward, kinky Ron, themes of war

Bastogne had been cold but Haguenau wasn’t much better. The wind bit fiercely at her face, freezing the tip of her nose and chapping her lips as she marched, head down, hands balled into fists. She couldn’t believe it. How was it when something went wrong it always seemed to be her damn fault? It’s not like Easy was her company, she was just a Corporal for Christ's sake but for some reason known only to God, Ronald Speirs had it in for her and regardless of the situation he would call her for a little chat.

Her boots sounded loudly up the corridor, snow and mud flaking off on the rotten wooden floor. First Sergeant Lipton greeted her with a small smile from beneath his mountain of blankets, his voice weak and shaky as he told her to take a seat.

“Just stay calm, Y/n. I’m sure it’s not as bad as it seems.

“That’s easy for you to say, Sir,” Y/n reminded him of the last time Speirs had called her to his office and Lipton had nearly lost his head to a flying plate.

Heavy footfall from the left caused Y/n to stand, her hand swiftly saluting the three offices as they entered the room. Winters and Nixon nodded at her before heading out, still deep in their conversation and leaving her with Speirs who looked as though he was about to blow his top.

“Y/l/n, with me. NOW!” Y/n trailed along like a dejected puppy, her head hanging low as she waited for the onslaught that was to come. Speirs slammed the heavy, oak door behind her but she didn’t jump. This exact situation had happened enough times that it barely phased her anymore.

“Corporal, why do you think I’ve called you here?” Speirs asked, leaning against the desk in the centre of the room. He had his overcoat off and the sleeves of his jumper rolled up, revealing the bulging veins of his arms as he glared at her.

“No, Sir,” Y/n replied innocently and she noticed the very subtle change in his eyes. She was in for it now.

“Well funny enough I didn’t expect to find one of the finest medics in the company having a snowball fight with some of the replacements. We’re in a war zone for fuck sake. You’ve been through Bastogne, I’d have thought you could have been trusted, could have been relied on but…”

“Sir, it was just for a few minutes. We were back from the line by our billet. The boys are homesick, Sir.”

“HOMESICK. FUCKING HOMESICK! How long has it been since you’ve seen home, Corporal,” he demanded, his eyes wild and his jaw shaking with the effort to not explode.

“Nearly two years, Sir,” she muttered, toeing her boot into the floor.

“And how long has it been for them? Two weeks? If anyone should be homesick it’s us. The Toccoa men. The men who have been through hell and back and are still fighting. I rely on you to set a good example and if I can’t trust a medic. Well, who the hell can I trust?”

Y/n picked at the cuff of her frayed uniform, “will that be all, Sir?”

“Yes, you may go.”

Y/n saluted the Lieutenant before heading to the door, she was pulling it closed behind her when Speirs spoke. “Do you want a drink?”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” Y/n raised an eyebrow as she peaked around the edge of the door.

“A drink? I managed to find some half-decent whiskey that Captain Nixon had yet to drink. Would you like a glass?”

Y/n wasn’t sure what to say, she wanted to get the hell away from his harsh glare as soon as possible but she was also curious. Why did he suddenly want to have a drink with her? For all Y/n knew he couldn’t stand the sight of her.

“Ummm, alright. Thank you, Sir.”

Y/n took a seat on the dark, leather sofa to the left of the desk, cautiously on the edge in case she was mistaken and needed to make a run from an angry Lieutenant.

“Here,” Speirs hesitantly passed her a glass of the amber liquid and she took it gratefully, the alcohol burning her throat pleasantly as it slipped down. She hadn’t had good alcohol since the celebration when Easy received their jump wings. The rest of the time it had been lukewarm, foamy beer.

“So, how are you holding up?” Speirs watched her from afar, his dark eyes boring into her as he waited.

“I’m fine. Thank you, Sir.” How else was she supposed to reply? She couldn’t exactly tell him how much she hated the God-awful hell hole and could wait to be back somewhere that was warm and allowed her to feel her limbs once more.

“Good. That’s good.” Speirs swirled the orange liquid around his glass, having not taken a drink yet and instead glared at the liquid as if someone gave him a sour aftertaste without consuming it.

“Sir, is there something you wanted to discuss?” Y/n wanted answers, there were only so many times she could avoid his eye contact and swallow nervously.

“Not especially. I just… wanted some company.” Speirs admitted, turning to look out of the window onto the deserted streets below. Y/n sat very still, her eyes tracing over his frame, strong shoulders tensed, large hands leaning splayed against the window frame.

“I can feel you watching me,” Speirs spoke in a hushed tone but Y/n knew he heard her small intake of breath. “I always know when you're watching me.”

“Sir, I…”

“Don’t deny it. I watch you too, you know. I watch when you stock supplies, I watch you when you throw back your head and your eyes crease as you laugh. I watch you more than you realise.”

By this point, Speirs had turned to face her and Y/n didn’t know whether to be flattered or terrified as the lieutenant approached her.

“Sir?” Y/n couldn’t help the unsteadiness of her voice and her eyes grew wider as he knelt before her, his hands tracing up her thigh.

“We can’t deny ourselves of human touch, Corporal. Desires of the flesh”

“Lieutenant Speirs…Sir… I,” Y/n gasped as his hand slipped up further under her jacket, fumbling with the belt that secured her trousers. With his body hovering over her, Y/n couldn’t remember how to breathe, the air entered her lungs in short, sharp gasps as she felt his fingers travelling along the soft flesh of her stomach.

“Please,” she whispered, feeling completely pathetic but no longer able to care. “Please just touch me.”

“Oh Darling, I thought you’d never ask.”

Y/n wasn’t sure what happened next, the order of events was a blur but soon enough she was moaning into Ron’s neck, her hips rolling in time with the rhythm of his fingers against her clit. She withered beneath him, nails wracking down his clothed back but Ron didn’t seem to notice. The knot in Y/n’s stomach was tightening and she could feel her thighs beginning to shake with the effort of controlling herself from reeling off a string of profanities when the door flung open.

“Speirs, could you…” Lieutenant Winters stood frozen in the doorway, the apple in his hand long forgotten and his cheeks blushed the colour of the hair on his head. He gulped and Y/n felt herself trying to clamp her legs shut and move away from Ron but the grip he had on her hips was firm and unwavering.

“Yes, Major Winters?” Speirs asked as if he wasn’t seconds away from giving Y/n the orgasm of her life.

“I’ll come back at another time,” Winters shook his head avoiding eye contact with Y/n and pulling the door closed softly behind him. Y/n felt herself let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and glared up at Ron who was just smiling smugly at her.

“Ron, I swear to God…”

“Now, now or I’ll forget to play nice,” Ron winked at her and Y/n thought she could fall apart just from that one action. Her mouth snapped shut and Ron snickered, “That’s what I thought. Good girl.”

Tags: @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @lena-basilone @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @whollyjoly @bucky32557038ww2 @panzershrike-pretz @xxluckystrike @malarkgirlypop