#army x joe

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 1- The Age of Chivalry

Summary: You're reassigned to Easy Company when one of their medics was injured pre D-Day. You expect some sass from the Company since you'll be the only female soldier in 100 miles but never expected for any of them to befriend you.

Author Note: Mature audience, Joe LiebgottxFemMedic, WW2, Character introduction, Pre D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Y/N, L/N, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Military Terminology, Inappropriate Nicknames, Band of Brothers References, Mentions of Weaponry, Smoking, Story takes place Episode 1- Currahee

*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~

October 1943

It was never a good idea to mix a single female with a Company of deprived men in the Army...but here you are. You found out you were assigned to Easy Company 2nd Battalion 101st Airborne Division in Fall 1943 when they lost one of their medics to an injury. Although you trained separately from the males at Toccoa in the Divisional medical unit and were one of very few females allowed to work alongside men, you got along quite well with most of the guys. You held your own never asking for special treatment or never played the ‘damsel in distress’ card, so Easy Company learned rather quickly that you can keep up.  

~~~~~~~

You remember the day you arrived at Aldbourne, England to make contact with the boys of Easy Company. With your reassignment order in hand, you approach a group of soldiers sitting at a picnic bench outside a building. All of them looking a bit rough, but nonetheless smoking and joking with eachother. They take a pause as they notice you approaching them. Some of them sizing you up and down as you carry your duffel full of medical supplies and wearing fatigues that have yet to see the battlefields like theirs have.  

“Hey, you lost there, lady?” Private Roy Cobb called out to you, sizing you up again as you continued to walk towards them without faltering. 

You shoot the mouthy Private a look of disdain before responding. 

“I’m looking for Corporal Roe. I was told to make contact with him as soon I arrived.” You speak to the group as a whole. 

They all exchanged looks and a few whispers. 

Corporal George Luz stood up. 

“Why, I’m Eugene Roe. But around here they call me, ‘Doc.’” He declared confidently with a cocky grin. 

The others started to snicker. One laid a heavy pat on his shoulder showing his appreciation of the joke. 

You rolled your eyes, releasing an exasperated sigh. 

Sergeant Denver Randleman stood from the bench, then walked towards you pushing Luz aside shaking his head as he passed him. He was a larger man. Like a bear. Never removing the cigar hanging out of the corner of his mouth as he spoke to you.  

“He’s across the way this way, I’ll take ya to him.” He said, motioning you along in the opposite direction. 

“Thank you, Sergeant.” You reply. 

“No problem. And it’s just ‘Bull,’ ma’am.” He said politely in his thick Southern accent as he passed you leading the way.  

You turn on your heel and proceed to follow Bull, ignoring the distant whistles you heard from some of the men you just met behind you. 

~~~~~~~

“I hope the guys haven’t given you too much trouble so far?” stated the actual Eugene ‘Doc’ Roe when you crossed into the designated aid station. 

“Nothing I haven’t dealt with before, Doc.” You say with conviction.  

Bull chuckled, finding your response amusing. 

“Yeah, I bet.” Doc replied before continuing. 

“Well, let’s get you in processed here, and squared away. Thanks for bringing her here, Bull. I’m sure those other idiots would’ve just sent her to their barracks.” he said with a roll of his eyes. 

Bull nodded with a small wave.  

“See you at chow, L/N.” Bull called back to you before he left. 

When Bull returned to where the others were still gathered, they bombarded him with questions. 

“Did you catch her name??” Sergeant (Sgt) Don Malarkey prodded. 

“-is she coming to Easy Company??” Sgt Bill Guarnere interrupted before Bull could answer. 

“-did she say anything about me?” Luz questioned. 

As the interrogation got heavier, he threw his hands up and removed the cigar from his mouth. 

“GUYS!! Take it easy, will ya? You’ll see her later at chow, just don’t attack her with all of these questions right away, k? We don’t want to scare her off now, do we?” He explained as he replaced his cigar and walked away.  

They all swapped looks of excitement.  

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to have me a shower before dinner this evening.” Corporal Joe Liebgott stated while flicking his cigarette butt, rising from the picnic bench, shouldering his rifle. 

“Ok, Liebgott, like you have a shot.” Malarkey teased. 

Liebgott turned to him. 

“Oh contrare, I feel you underestimate me, Don.” He shot back at Malarkey while walking backwards, then turning back around. 

The group scoffed at him collectively. 

~~~~~~~

You got to chow early before any of the other men started to show up. You tucked yourself way in the back at a long table in the corner. You made sure to keep your head down, hanging over a tray trying to swallow some of the Army’s finest slop.  

“Should’ve just stuck to a dinner roll with margarine.” You whispered to yourself as you grimaced from the last mouthful of mystery meat from your plate. 

“Not exactly a high-end dish from The Ritz, now, is it?” Sgt Carwood Lipton joked as he sat down across from you with his own serving of slop. 

“Yeah, not quite.” You respond while poking at a hard, clay-like mound on your plate that was supposed to be mashed potatoes. 

“You’ll get used to it.” Bull stated as he sat next to you with his tray. 

You ‘psh-ed’ at Bull’s statement. 

“I highly doubt that. But I’ll make do.” You convinced yourself. “Surprisingly not the worst food I’ve had.” You added. 

“Really, there’s something out there worse than this?” Lipton asked astonished as he stirred his cold soup that looked like ketchup and water. 

“Oh yeah! Pixley and Ehler’s Diner on Clark Street in Chicago has some questionable selections.” You explained. 

“Is that where you’re from?” Corporal Frank Perconte queried as he sat next to Lipton. 

“I am.” You replied with pride. 

“You Italian then?” Guarnere asked, inviting himself to the conversation, sitting next to Perconte. 

“Italian and Irish.” You clarified. 

“Ssshh, a goddam Mick-Deigo.” Guarnere sneered crinkling his nose in disgust. 

“Leave’er alone, Gonorrhea.” Liebgott interjected sitting next to Bull. 

“I’m guessing you're Italian?” You directed at Guarnere. 

“Sicilian, actually.” He retorted. 

“Hm, you know that Sicilians aren’t real Italians, right? Sicily is just like Australia. All the criminals of Britain were shipped there to be ostracized from the mainland. Sicily is just an island of Italy’s delinquents.” You taunted. 

The others “ooooo-ed” in unison. Even Perconte who was the other Italian of Easy company. 

“She got you there, Guarnere.” Bull teased. 

Everyone laughed. Except Guarnere. 

“You think you’re funny?” Guarnere challenged. 

You sighed and looked at him deadpan in the face without an ounce of fear to show. 

“Come on, Guarnere, she was only dishing out what you gave her.” Perconte defended. 

“Shut your trap, Perconte, you should be on my side!” he said slamming a fist onto the surface of the table then pointing at him.  

The rest of the table filled up with remaining members of Easy Company that could fit that wanted to see the fight unfold. 

You folded your arms in front of you on top of the table and leaned forward, making sure you got Guarnere’s attention, then spoke with distinct fire in your voice. 

“You think I’m some dame just showing up here straight out of basic training not knowing how to handle myself with soldiers? I’ve been whistled at, barked at, howled at, catcalled, pinched, ass slapped, and manhandled by the worst of them, pal. You labeling me because of my heritage ain’t gonna do shit to me. But I’ll be damned you disrespect me like I haven’t earned the right to be respected. Just remember, I’m the one that’s going to be tending to you if you get shot in the field, sergeant.”  

You glare at him, then rise harshly from your seat, leaving the rest of the table in a state of awe and shock. 

“Good job, Gonorrhea. You pissed her off now.” Liebgott pointed out with an audible tsk. 

“Fuck her.” Guarnere spit back. 

~~~~~~~

As soon as you left the chow hall, you found a spot out of sight to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. You leaned against a post looking up towards the night sky taking deep controlled breaths. 

“Corporal L/N?” You’re startled by the voice of Lieutenant (LT) Richard Winters. You snap to attention ready to render a salute, but he waves you down. 

“As you were. Are you alright?” He asked as you relaxed your stance. 

“Yessir, just getting some fresh air.” You reassured. 

He looked at you with skepticism, not believing you were telling him the entire truth.  

You continued. 

“A room full of men who haven’t showered in a few days can make a gal lightheaded.” You joked. 

The corner of LT Winters’ mouth started to curl into a slight grin, trying his best not to laugh outloud at your quick wit. 

“I see, L/N. Well rest up, we’ll need you to be ready when we move out for the next mission.” He explained. 

“Yes, sir. Have a good night.” You replied. 

Winters gave a nod and entered the chow hall. 

LT Winters bee lined for his company’s table. His men all greeted him cheerfully as he approached the table. 

“Lieutenant, got a seat open right here.” Bull called out, gesturing to your vacant spot. 

“No thanks, Bull, I’ve eaten already.” Winters responded. He paused before he continued. 

“Just ran into Corporal L/N on the way in-” He paused again to assess the men’s reaction. 

Some continued eating, pretending like they hadn’t really heard. Lipton, Bull and Liebgott looked up at Winters waiting for him to continue. 

“She seemed somewhat troubled.” Winters finished. He waited for anyone to speak up, looking at the group expectantly. 

“Maybe her panties got all up in a twist, sir.” Guarnere offered up sarcastically. 

Some of the men chortled in response. 

Winters, Bull, Lipton, and Liebgott weren’t amused. 

“Well, she only said a room full of foul-smelling males made her dizzy and she needed fresh air.” Winters relayed, while looking at Guarnere suspiciously. 

The men all started to smell their armpits self-consciously. 

“Corporal Liebgott.” Winters called out. 

“Sir?”

“Get out there and escort L/N to her tent.” Winters instructed. 

“Yes, sir.” Liebgott acknowledged. 

“L/N will not walk around alone at night, gentlemen. I don’t care who goes with her, but make sure she always has a battle buddy in the hours of darkness. Tracking?” Winters asked, raising his voice authoritatively. 

The table responded “yes, sir” simultaneously. 

Liebgott rushed out excitedly and hustled down the street to catch you before you got too far. 

~~~~~~~

You were aways a bit ahead before Liebgott found you. 

“Hey, L/N! Wait up!” He called after you. 

You turned around looking for the voice calling your name. 

You stopped walking, waiting for Liebgott trotting over to catch up to you. 

“Can I help you?” You asked with a little more harshness in your voice than you intended. 

“As a matter of fact, I’m here to help you. I have the honor of accompanying you to your barracks.” He responded with enthusiasm and a smile. 

You were taken aback. You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Oh?” You questioned before continuing. “That’s quite unexpectedly chivalrous of you.” 

“Well, you have Winters to thank for that, it was his idea.” He responded quite bluntly. 

You rolled your eyes.  

“Hm, I see.” You reply briskly.  

Liebgott realized he sounded like an asshole right then. 

“Of course, if you approve, I’ll appoint myself your permanent battle buddy from now on.” He extended with his signature smirk as you resumed walking together. 

You felt your face heat up. You averted your eyes to the ground so he wouldn’t see you blush. But Joseph Liebgott doesn’t miss a thing. He grinned wider. 

“If those are the LT’s orders, then have at it, Liebgott.” You replied coldly. 

“Nah, that last part was my idea.” He stated proudly. 

You shot him a confused expression, then he winked at you. 

You laughed nervously, looking away quickly to break the awkwardness you felt in the pit of your stomach. 

He smiled at you affectionately.

“And call me Joe.” He added.

“Y/N.” You reply looking up at him through your lashes.

“Look, sorry if I’m making it weird. And don’t listen to Gonorrhea. He’s just a jackass with a height deficiency. The kid always has some stupid shit to say.” He explained. 

You nod trying to suppress a giggle. 

“This is me.” You announce as you approach the entrance to your sleeping quarters. You turn to face Joe. “Thank you for the chat, and the company, Liebgott…I mean Joe.” You say dotingly. 

“Forget it. So?” He asked. 

You were genuinely confused. 

“Sooo?” You reply. 

“Am I your permanent evening escort?” he asked with a grin and a wink. 

This time you laugh outwardly at his attempt at a flirty sexual inuendo. 

“If by ‘evening escort’ you mean my nightly walk to and from one location to another, I’d have to say....I’ll think about it.” You respond flirtatiously with a wink in return. 

His face lit up. 

“Well alright then. We’ll take another test run tomorrow night.” He proposed. 

You shook your head smiling, astounded by the level of confidence this man had. 

“Good night, Joe.” You finalized as you disappear beyond the threshold of the tent entrance. 

~~~~~~~

[dany36]

Listen Lin, I love you and you are such a smart talented child but this is the worst idea you’ve ever had. 🧎‍♀️

[avianandloaded]

X-Men Savage Land Squad: Wolverine, Professor X, Frank Castle and Banshee.

[browsethestacks]

5 Random Comics

[movinglikebeautifultruth]

No thoughts head empty

Need to process the finale

[g4zdtechtv]

THE PILE PRESENTS: X-Play - Now with +3 Stamina | 8/3/05

I'll trade you 3 lillies and an Intern for an Arcanite Reaper...

(4GTV - WATCH NOW!)

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 1

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 610

This first part is short, but later parts will probably end up being longer. Anyway, Joe Goldberg is my current obsession. I just had to write fanfic.

Masterlist

Hello, You.

You look unsure of yourself. You've walked into Mooney's without a purpose, and now it looks like you're not sure why you came in at all. You wander through the isles aimlessly, glancing at the books without really seeing them. You're not even reading the titles. Then, you stop. You've found something that intrigues you.

You're in the isle F through K. Are you sending me a message? I'd like to think so but no, you're looking - really looking, this time - at our collection of secondhand Stephen King books.

You seem like the type to be a King fan. You’re tiny, can't be more than 5’5”. You're not fat, but you've got a round face that could trick people into thinking so, if you covered up your body more.

You're wearing a Guns ‘N Roses tank top and army-green cargo pants, and Doc Martens. You want people to be impressed when they look at you. You like the attention. I don't know who you're trying to fool, though. It's clear you wouldn't hurt a fly.

In any case, you look like the exact sort of girl who'd enjoy King's more outlandish books. I expect you to go for Desperation, or maybe Pet Sematary, but instead your searching finger glides across the spines of the books and stops at Joyland.

You slide it out from between the others. You look at the front cover, not the back. Appearances are important to you.

Suddenly, you are approaching me. You set the book down on the counter carefully. Almost reverently.

“Hi,” you say.

I like your hair. It's a deep brown, not dyed. You've got a wolf-cut, but you have curls so it looks messier than you probably intended. Your hair covers your ears fully, but I just manage to catch the sparkle of an earring.

“Hi,” I answer. “Just this today?”

“I made a deal with myself when I came in here. Only one book. I have an addiction to buying books.”

I smile, because that's good. It means you might come here again. But then again, I've never seen you before. What if you're not from around here? Just passing through? You could walk out of my life forever, after this.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, casually. “How come I've never seen you here before, then?”

“I just moved here. Trust me, you're going to see a lot of me.” You laugh. “I had a very personal relationship with the woman who runs the bookstore in my old town.”

A ‘personal' relationship? Are you hinting at something? Do you want to have a personal relationship with me?

“Came there that often, huh?”

“At least twice a week.”

“Do you just read that fast? Or…?”

“I read pretty fast, yeah.”

If you were somebody else, I might suggest you get a library card. But if I say that to you, you might actually heed my advice, and then you won't come here as much. Better not to poke that bear.

“Well, here's to hoping I see you again, then. That'll be $ 13,99.”

You hand me your card. You could pay with cash, but you want me to see your name.

“(Y/n). I like your name. It suits you.”

You shrug.

“And your last name… German?”

“Dutch,” you say. “Like I said, I just moved here.”

Funny, I don't detect an accent at all.

I ring you up, pack Joyland for you in a paper bag, and hand it to you. Your smile lights up the entire room. Your teeth are a little crooked, but not unbearably so. It's sort of adorable.

“Thanks,” you say, and: “See you later.”

Then you're leaving. I miss you already.

[sportyphile]

Low Battery

Paring: Joe Burrow x reader

warnings: depressing thoughts, angst, family dynamics. fluff

words: 1,116

a/n: I typed this out in one straight shot with no previous details figured out so I hope its okay. This is the complete opposite of all of the great and cute Christmas Joe fics everyone has been writing. Hope you all had a great Christmas if you celebrate! But without further ado! Its Christmas Eve, and Joe sees your social battery has worn out for the day.

Your family was mingling with each other, laughing and talking around the kitchen table and in the living room. Your little cousins and niece and nephew were in the playroom, keeping each other entertained with toys. You were sitting alone at the kitchen island, slowly eating the food on your plate. There wasn't any other room for you to sit but you didn't mind. Your posture was slumped slightly, your thoughts turned inward rather than focusing on the party going on around you. Joe, moving away from talking with your dad, turned the corner to see you and he immediately knew what was wrong. Your social battery had run out, and he knew you were struggling with spending time with your family.

You felt a hand land on the small of your back gently rubbing a spot on your sweater. The touch made you smile softly, grounding you and bringing you back to reality. You knew it was Joe without having to look. "Hey." He said softly, glancing at your half eaten plate. The amount of food that had been made from scratch over the past few days in preparation for the party, could have fed an army. Christmas Eve had always been a big deal in your family. But you hadn't eaten a lot. "I'm ready if you are." He hadn't asked how you were because you knew you'd put on a brave face and say you were fine when you weren't. At least while there were others around.

You nodded and picked up your plate to scrap off the food into the trash while Joe went to grab your coats and hats. "Time for us to head home, I've got to start prepping for Broncos game on Saturday." Joe announced towards your family as he held your coat so it was easier for you to put on, and you smiled at him once it was on.

"Thank you for coming early to help with the set up." Your mom chimed in from her spot at the table. There would be no hugs, your family didn't hug or say "love you" unless you were flying and there was a possibly of you crashing and dying.

"No problem at all." Joe smiled and went around to say good bye to everyone while you followed, putting on smiles and hugging your niece and nephew tightly before you made your way through the door and to the car, Joe holding the passenger side door open for you. "Thank you." You grabbed his arm gently and got onto your tip toes to kiss him on the cheek before getting into the car and putting your seatbelt on. You felt like the complete opposite of the confident women you had grown into since being away from home. Christmas hadn't always felt like this, it had been magical when you had been a child.

The car ride home was quiet, Joe didn't force conversation. He did take your hand in his, entwining his fingers with yours as he drove with one hand. Glances he stole in your direction once in a while to see how you were doing. The further away you got from the house, the better you felt.

Being shy, quiet and being a girl in an old school traditional family where boys were valued more, you had always felt somewhat out of place. Like whatever you did, wasn't enough. Your family had never done anything to hurt you, but words were said on occasion that cut you. And any time you tried to do something by yourself without Joe around, they were overbearing. Years of it had taken its toll mentally, even if they meant well. Being the girlfriend of an NFL quarterback, had caused you to adapt to being alone a lot but that hadn't been hard for you since you had lived life on your own most of your life.

But there was guilt that you didn't actually have it that bad compared to some families. You loved your parents and family still, you had good moments with them, but it was draining to be around them. Joe had helped you grow as a person in more ways than one, and during the season you were his rock as much as he was yours on the off season.

Once Joe parked in his garage, you unlocked the front door and took off your shoes, immediately wanting to change out of your clothes and slip into something more comfortable. Joe's excuse to prep for the Broncos wasn't a complete lie, he had had started to as soon as the Browns game had finished. But there were more things he wanted to look at and you didn't mind, it was part of his job and you would support him.

Once you were changed, you went to find Joe who you figured would be in his office. But you almost walked right into each other in the doorway of the bedroom. "What are you doing?" You asked as you noticed he had his Ipad in his hands with a notebook and pencil. "I'm going to study some film while you lie down." You knew by his tone, he wasn't taking no for an answer.

Joe couldn't read your mind all of the time, which is where communication came in. But he was pretty good at noticing what you needed during certain times, and this was one of those moments. It made your heart melt.

"Alright." You moved away from the door to climb into your side of the bed and get comfortable. Joe turned the TV on so he could cast from his Ipad to the tv so it was easier to look at. You loved when he let you look at plays from the other team, his fingers dancing on the screen to manipulate it to freeze and go backwards and forwards as he studied.

Joe noticed you watching and he smiled, knowing you felt better. "You're okay. You're doing good, I'm proud of you always." He reassured you as his fingers ran into your hair for a moment as he leaned down and kissed your forehead. You shifted to snuggle close to him as much as you could without getting in the way of his things on the bed. His words made you tear up for a few moments but no tears actually fell. You put your arm across his lap and smiled up at him. "I love you." Your voice was soft and full of love. "I love you too." He smiled before he focused on his Ipad once more. It wasn't long before you fell asleep, content with the life you had built for yourself.

[accihoe]

Christmas Surprise

Pairing: Sergeant!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Summary: I don't want to spoil it, read and find out 💕

Warnings: mentions of war and army stuff

A/n: Merry Christmas, folks. I hope you all have a blessed day. I think it's kind of obvious what the story is about, but I hope you like it.

Read this pls❤️

Xxxx

"It's a pity James won't be making it this year. He's scarcely been around for Christmases since Papa passed, and Y/N seemed to have changed that, I thought. Though I suppose he is part of the army now, and they need him for war and all that."

"I was under the impression that all soldiers in training got Christmas off. But I know nothing about military matters, so don't trust my judgment."

Y/N stood in the hallway as her sisters-in-law spoke, Rebecca and Rudy (I made Rudy up for the sake of the story). Her heart beat heavily in her chest as she stared at the framed sketch of James Buchanan Barnes, drawn by Steven. G. R. .

With a smooth of her hands down her apron, she walked into the kitchen. The chatter instantly and awkwardly shifted to the peas that stood on the counter, and Rudy scattered to look for the rolling pin, that was tucked into the front pocket of her apron.

"It's alright, I heard. And Rudy's right. Jamie was supposed to come home four days ago, but for some reason him and his commando friends got refused dismissal or something."

Rebecca sighed, setting down her eggnog, and went to Y/N, laying a hand on her shoulder.

"Y/N/N,"

"Becca, it's quite alright. I really understand your concern, I do. I just feel bad for Jamie. He often spoke of his fondness for Christmas."

Rebecca gave another sad sigh and looked at Judy, who understood the silence.

"Well, on a different note. We've managed to scrounge together some canned versions of James's favourites. It ain't the real deal,"

"But it's pretty damn near."

Rebecca finished Rudy's sentence, allowing a little humour to fill the space. Y/N chuckled lightly, picking up a can of peas. This Christmas would be their 5th without Rudy's husband Joe, their 3rd without their father, and their 16th Christmas without their mother. And now, it would be their 3rd with Y/N, and 1st without Bucky. The three sisters (minus Y/N, merely Bucky's girlfriend, but they went by that nickname), were left to spend Christmas by themselves.

A knock at the door pulled the three women from their thoughts. They shared a look: that was not a feminine knock. It could mean one of three things;

•James was home by some miracle

•They were about to geat dreaded news about James

•The old man next door sent by his wife for sugar

•Rebecca's secret admirer (though this thought was only shared by Y/N and Ruby, and had James been there, him too)

"I'll go get it."

Y/N rushed to the door, heart pounding excitedly. To her dismay, it was Tom, the butcher's son. Y/N's heart sank and her smile faded to an annoyed expression.

"Tom. What can I do for you?"

"Merry Christmas, beautiful."

Y/N sighed, about to close the door when he handed her an envelope. Y/N cocked a brow, hesitant to take it.

"What's this?"

"It's from the post office. Mr. Bennett asked me to deliver it to you. Says the sender pleaded."

Y/N reached to take it but Tom pulled it back.

"Uh uh, first, Malcolm sent you something, and you need to take it before I give you your letter."

Y/N groaned, rolling her eyes.

"I am not obligated to take it."

"Well I'm not obligated to give this letter to you. It's just a favour."

Y/N narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips into a fine line.

"Fine."

Tom picked up a wrapped tin box and handed it to Y/N. Her gut sank, she knew what was in the tin. Tom placed the letter on the box and left. Y/N retrieved inside silently and placed her belongings upstairs in her room. She locked her door and ripped open the paper, sighing heavily when she saw the note on top of the expensive boots she'd been dreaming about.

Just a glimpse of what a real man could give you. Merry Christmas.

The note read.

She felt too bad to open the letter she knew was from James.

-Fast forward to eating time-

After the girls had dished up and said Grace, they sat at the table, ready to eat. Another knock sounded at the door, a man's knock. But a specific pattern belonging to only one man.

"James!"

The three girls said together and got up, but Y/N beat the rest to the door. The door was jerked open, blowing Y/N's hair from her face from the friction. Her stomach swarmed with fiery butterflies when her eyes registered the man before them.

"Buck,"

His signature grin spread across his face before he stepped forward, dropping his bags. Before she knew it, her lover was crushing her bones (just about) in a hug. Y/N's arms wrapped around his neck as he stood on a step lower than her. She felt his figure move as he inhaled her scent.

"What are you doing here? I thought you weren't allowed?"

"I'm not. But no command from any general jackass is gonna stop me from seeing my baby on Christmas."

Y/N laughed, pulling away to flick his forehead before hugging him again. The 'three sisters' made quick work of fixing Bucky a plate while he freshened up upstairs. Y/N couldn't keep her eyes from James as they ate the lunch. She could see the beginning of stress on his features, the slight fatigue from training, but there was something else.

He'd always been a pro at masking his true feelings, but the usual "Bucky shimmer" in his eyes was missing. He tried hard not to lock eyes with Y/N over lunch, but he couldn't keep his eyes from her. Though it'd been a mere two weeks, he'd missed her.

"Becks? I feel something is the matter with James. But I don't want to worry him asking, or pry, he just- oh I don't know he seems off."

Rebecca put down the plate she was washing and turned to Y/N with her own signature look.

"If anyone knows him well, it's you. So I'd say to trust your gut."

With that, Rebecca returned to washing the dishes. Y/N smiled faintly at the tilted floors of the Barnes' kitchen and nodded to herself.

"If it's alright with you, I think I'm going to have a word with him. See if he's alright."

"It's fine by me. Judy's the one you should be worryin' about. Now go, shoo, before she comes back from her rendezvous in the powder room (yes I'm implying that she's taking a dump)."

With a giggle shared between the younger girls Y/N scurried upstairs, knocking on the door of the guest bedroom, her bedroom for the holidays.

"Give me a moment."

James called back.

"Jamie, sugar, it's me."

"In that case give me two moments."

Bucky sassed. At least he was being himself. Y/N pushed the door open, thankful it wasn't locked. She instantly knew what was off. The stupid boots from Malcolm.

"What happened to respecting a man's privacy?"

He frowned at her.

"Darling I don't believe you get much of that in the army, and besides, I don't want us to spend the little time we have together on the blessing of a day brawling about a stupid third party inconvenience."

"So the fella you've been seeing is called 'stupid third party inconvenience?'"

Y/N shook her head with a soft laugh.

"I'm not seeing anybody, James."

"Then what's this?"

He pointed toward the boots, that remained untouched. Y/N sighed, putting the lid over them.

"My letter is right next to them. You didn't even open it. Though perhaps a mere letter that I split my ass to get to you isn't 'manly' enough is it?"

"James, language, and please, let me explain."

His furrowed brows dropped slightly, and Y/N took his silence as her opportunity to explain.

"You remember that rich kid whose father owns the country club?"

Bucky nodded apprehensively.

"I accidentally knocked my bag off a table a few weeks back, and he assisted me in picking up my belongings. He hasn't left me alone since. He's had his friend, or more like servant Tom deliver things to me ever since. Tom wouldn't give me your letter unless I accepted his gift. And I knew what it was going to be, but I was so horrified at his gesture, that I felt too ashamed to open your letter. I'm sorry."

".....Well he's not man enough to enlist."

James said after a moment of silence. Y/N chuckled through her nose and nodded.

"And he's not man enough to deliver the gifts himself."

Y/N nodded, smoothing a hand down James's arm, and then took ahold of his hand.

"You're all I want, Bucky. Believe you me. There's no overly priced pair of boots that could make me change my mind about that."

It was Bucky's turn to laugh at her comment.

"But does he know you've got a suitor?"

Y/N nodded, an irritated expression across her features.

"He knew when I dropped my bag, he knew when I was at the train station to send you off and he waited there to talk to me. And the gifts have ampled since your departure."

Bucky's jaw ticked, and Y/N felt his fingers clasped around hers twitch.

"What do you say you and I pay him a visit and return his gift?"

"Isn't that a little rude, especially on Christmas day?"

"Dollface, we're amidst a world war, I couldn't give a damn about being polite to a jackass who's tryna steal my girl."

"Buck you know he'll never succeed, right?"

"I do trust so. But still, I want to rub it in his face."

"James, baby, come on. If we give him a reaction, he'll probably like it. It'll give him the impression that he's getting to you."

"You were always the clever one in this relationship. So what do you suggest we do, miss smarty pants?"

Y/N hummed, pretending to think as she rubbed her chin.

"Well, for starters, you never call me that again. And, perhaps you and I dress nicely, beg Becca to use her camera, and post him a picture of us with Christmas regards written on the back."

"Not mean enough."

"There's a twist?"

James cocked an eyebrow, intrigued.

"I'm wearing the boots he sent."

James's face broke out into a boyish grin.

"Sounds more like it. I'm in. Get dressed, dollface, I'll use my baby blues on Becks."

"Work your magic Sergeant."

Y/N called as he left the room.

Xxxx

Fin. Merry, merry Christmas, people. I've derailed a little, I'm sorry. Never forget the true meaning behind Christmas, and never forget that you're loved.

Lots of love and best wishes

(Yes I am planning on a pt.2 depending on how well this does)

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 2- The Talk

Summary: You find out your first mission is to Carentan with Easy Company. This will be your first jump with the boys, but there's some who are opposed to your tagging along to which Liebgott defends your honor.

Author's Notes: Mature audience, Joe LiebgottxFemMedic, Pre D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Y/F/N, Y/L/N, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Aggression, Angst, Mentions of Sex, Confrontation, Military Terminology, 1940’s slang, Inappropriate Nicknames, Band of Brothers References, A League of Their Own Crossover Characters & Movie References, Mentions of Weaponry, Yiddish/German/Dutch language with English translation, Smoking, Crying, Banter, Pining, FLUFF (Joe defends reader's honor)

German is identified with (g)

Yiddish is identified with (y)

Dutch is identified with (d)

Story takes place mid-late Episode 1- Currahee

*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of the historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~

England 

May 1944

Easy Company along with allied British forces locked down the town of Aldbourne. You and the only other two females (two aid station nurses) were finally allotted with a temporary hardened facility (instead of a tent) to yourselves just on the edge of the village. 

You shared this space with Doris Murphy, and Mae Mordabito. They each sat on their own tufted lounge chair in their night gowns, gossiping about some of the officers they found attractive.  

“Ok, so pick one: Spiers, Winters, or Nixon?” Mae purred in a breathy voice while smoking a cigarette. 

“Ooo that’s a tough one, Mae.” Doris cooed with her heavy Statton Island accent.  

Doris paused to think about it. 

“Come on, Doris, it ain’t that hard.” Mae teased. 

“Oh yeah? Who’d you pick then, Mae?” Doris prodded. 

“Spiers for sure.” Mae replied almost immediately with honey in her voice. 

“Ooooooo!” Doris squealed as they both giggled uncontrollably. 

Their laughter was interrupted by you entering through the door in your linen robe and your hair wrapped in a towel carrying a shower caddie. 

“Well, hello there, Y/N.” Doris welcomed teasingly. 

“Doris.” You greet back with a faint smile. 

“So, how’s Joe?” Mae asked sweetly with a shimmy. 

You directed her a look of annoyance and a grin. You remained quiet, removing your hair from the towel. 

“He walked you to the shower, didn’t he??” Doris squawked with shock. 

Mae tittered biting her red manicured fingernail, waiting for you to admit it. 

You ‘psh-ed’ through your teeth trying to suppress a laugh. 

“Yeah, Doris, Liebgott walked with me to the shower.” You confirmed. 

You never call him Joe in front of them or the other guys. 

“And?” Mae pushed after you fell silent again. 

You turned away slowly from your vanity to face them. They waited with excitement and impatience all over their faces, each on the edge of their seats. 

“And he walked me back here.” You finished with a mischievous smirk. 

They both groaned. 

“He’s been walking you around every night for almost seven months now, honey, what’s the hold up??” Mae asked. 

“He walks with me because it was a direct order, Mae. Winters doesn’t want me walking alone when it’s dark because there are hundreds of ravenous sexually deprived wolves out here waiting for the opportunity to get a Little Red Riding Hood all to themselves.” You explained plainly. 

“I wear red under my uniform all the time.” Mae admitted with a wink after taking a long drag from her cigarette. 

Mae being the more promiscuous kind, didn’t see a problem with hundreds of horny men in the general vicinity. 

“Mae!!” Doris said clutching her chest with a gasp. 

You laughed together as you continued to dry your wet hair. 

“But seriously, though, that man’s got it bad for you, hun.” Mae continued. 

“Yeah, real bad.” Doris emphasized. 

You roll your eyes. 

“I don’t think so, girls.” You argued. 

“Oh yeah? You ever catch how he looks at you?” Doris challenged. 

“Or how close he gets to you so he could smell your perfume?” Mae added. 

“He does nothing of the sort.” You dismissed. 

Doris and Mae looked at eachother. 

“Ok, deny it all you want, Gams, Joe Liebgott is sweet...on...you!” Mae said booping you gently on the nose after each of the last three words of her sentence. 

You huff then shook your head. 

“Sure, Mae.” You say hoping it’ll end the conversation. 

The three of you get into your respectable beds after Doris dimmed the lamp. 

Silence and darkness filled the room and you almost drifted off to sleep until... 

“AWOOOOOOOOOO!”  

The three of you gasp, sitting straight up frozen from fear.  

You started to hear snickering outside. Specifically, men laughing. You spring out of your bed and throw open the door catching Liebgott, Luz, Perconte, and Malarkey running up the road towards their end of town. 

“LUZ! CONTE! MALARK! LIEB!! GODDAM LEATHERHEADS!!” You yelled out after them, genuinely furious and somewhat embarrassed. 

The four soldiers stopped and turned to wave mockingly back at you, then all howled again. 

You heard Mae and Doris giggle behind you. 

You stood arms crossed staring back at the guys stunned by their immaturity. 

You and Liebgott locked eyes. His playful smirk appearing across his face. You pursed your lips and furrowed your eyebrows shaking your head at him. He brought his fingertips to his lips blowing you a kiss, and winking as he turned on his heel with Malarkey pulling on his sleeve. 

“They must’ve been listening to us.” Doris pointed out. 

“If I’d have known that I would’ve had a thing or two to say about Luz.” Mae declared with a sultry smile. 

You released an irritated breath, shook your head while slamming the rickety door. 

“Idiots.” You whispered to yourself. 

~~~~~~~

You left the town’s only serviceable cafe with a thermos of coffee and made your way towards the makeshift medical unit to start your day. You see Easy Company gathering in the field nearest to your workstation preparing for convoy exercises. Liebgott and Perconte ran over to chat with you. 

“Hey! Sleep good last night, Gams?” Joe snickered. 

You roll your eyes at him. 

“Hey, why does Mae call you ‘Gams’ anyway?” Perconte asked genuinely clueless. 

You and Joe looked at him perplexed. 

“Really, Frank? Gams? Because Y/N’s got legs for days, you dunce.” Joe explained. 

Perconte just nodded releasing an ‘ahhhh’ after it all came together in his head.  

“And how would you know I have long gams, Lieb?” You interrogated crossing your arms. 

Joe looked at you alarmed at first but recovered quickly.  

“I can tell just by lookin’ at’chya.” He declared flirtatiously. 

“Frank! Joe! Get over here!” 

Lipton called Perconte and Liebgott back from across the field. 

“See ya later, doll, gotta go.” Joe said quickly before rushing off. 

You watch them run off until Mae’s voice breaks your focus. 

“See? Told ya.” Mae gloated. 

You looked at her and began to protest but she winked at you and waved you off before you could get a word in.

You growled lowly to yourself in frustration and proceeded to med storage to start inventory with Doc. 

~~~~~~~ 

June 1944

You and Doc were instructed to attend a briefing with Easy Company. You sat in the rear with Doc while Captain Lewis Nixon spoke from a platform, referencing a map on easel. 

"Sainte-Marie-du-Monte. Causeway number one. Causeway number two. The ultimate field problem. The estuary of the Douve River divides two beaches, code name Utah, here and Omaha, here. Seaborne Infantry will hit these beaches in force at a date and time to be specified."

Nixon proceeded after stepping down from the stage.

"H-Hour, D-Day. Airborne's objective, gentlemen, is to take the town of Carentan or Carentan, thus linking Utah and Omaha into a single continuous beachhead."

Lieutenant Meehan addressed all the companies from the platform, briefing the operation order of when and where to engage the focus targets which was a German garrison just beyond the Atlantic Wall where the troops were to drop 5 hours before the 4th Infantry lands on Utah.

“-Easy Company will destroy that garrison. Each trooper will learn this operation by heart and know {their} and every other outfit's mission to the detail." Meehan scanned the crowd making sure he still had everyone's attention before continuing.

"We’ll be having the best members of the wound care unit accompanying us as our designated field medics. Corporals Roe and Y/L/N. This will be L/N’s first jump with us, so keep an eye out for her, gents.” Meehan added with a fatherly expectant gaze across the crowd before him."

"You’re all released for the day. Police your gear, make sure you have what you need and ready to load up by 0700. Get outta here.” Nixon dismissed. 

The men all rose from their seats and began filing out of the briefing area. 

“Well, that was cheerful.” Luz voiced out loud to Perconte. 

“What really grinds my gears is we got princess to babysit.” Guarnere bleated. 

“Jeezuz Christ, Guarnere, give it a rest, will ya?” Luz barked. 

“You know what your problem is? Your pride is still dented. She put you in your place in front of everyone with some politically correct facts about your bloodline. You just wanna give her shit every chance you get.” Corporal David Webster interjected. 

“You can shut your mouth, Web.” Guarnere sneered. 

“Hey, Guarnere, shut the fuck up.” Liebgott snapped. 

“Hey, Joe, why don’t you shut the hell up. I wasn’t talkin’ to ya! Just because you wanna bed her don’t mean I gotta be nice to her.” Guarnere spit back. 

Liebgott grabbed Guarnere by the shoulder, swinging him around, grappling him by the front of his uniform. 

“You watch what you say about her.” Liebgott hissed at him. 

Guarnere shoved Liebgott off him. 

“Get your hands off me. And tell your girl that if she sees me in the field bleeding out, to keep her Mick-Deigo hands off me too. I’d rather die. Fuck the bote’of’ ya’s.” (The both of you) Guarnere snarled back, spitting at Joe’s feet before walking away. 

Liebgott stared him down, chest heaving, until he disappeared around the corner. 

“Let it go, Joe.” Bull said patting his shoulder a couple of times. 

Liebgott glanced to the side barely catching you scurrying away towards your barracks. 

“Pretty sure she heard all that.” Bull added. 

“Yeah...I’ll go talk to her.” Liebgott said almost as a growl. 

~~~~~~~ 

You sat in a rocking chair that one of the locals left behind in your sleeping quarters. Wrapped in one of the olive drab wool blankets that was standard issue for soldiers. You rocked back and forth gently, lost in the flame of your oil lamp until you heard a knock on the door. 

“Who is it?” You call out. 

“It’s Joe, Y/N.” Liebgott replied. 

“It’s not even time for chow yet.” You responded as you checked your watch. 

“I came here to talk, Y/N.” Liebgott clarified. 

You exhaled loudly as you walked to the door and opened it. You found Joe leaning with his forearm against the trim of the doorway. Your heart danced a little as he looked at you through hooded lids. 

Your breath hitched before you composed yourself. 

“Talk about what?” You queried. 

Joe slowly straightened up rocking back on his heels as he slipped his hands into his front pockets. 

“About what happened back there.” He specified as he gestured with his head behind him. 

“What’s to talk about? It don’t bother me.” You asserted in the most convincing voice you could muster. 

Liebgott chuckled as he looked down at his boots then looked back at you. 

“You ain’t foolin’ nobody, sweetheart.” He stated. 

You looked off to the side avoiding eye contact with him. 

“Can... I... come in?” He dared to ask.  

You look at him appalled, grabbing the front of your robe. 

“Excuse me?” You asked as you narrowed your eyes at him. 

He laughed almost nervously. 

“Look, I just thought it would be better to talk in private. Don’t worry, I won’t try anything fresh, ok? I swear.” He promised placing a hand over his heart. 

The wheels in your head were working overtime. It must have shown on your face because Liebgott felt the need to be more reassuring.  

“Nobody will see me come in or out. There’s nobody around right now anyway.” He pointed out stepping aside presenting the view behind him. You look beyond him and scan the area. He was absolutely right. It was a ghost town because it was getting dark. You look at him suspiciously. 

“Fine.” You say curtly. 

You step aside and let him pass through. 

You secured the door behind you. He put his hands back in his pockets and started surveying the room. 

“This is actually kinda nice.” He admitted with a nod. 

“It serves its purpose.” You reply simply. 

 Liebgott sat on one of the tufted lounge chairs across from your vanity where you sat facing him. He rested each elbow onto each of his knees with his fingers interlock between, preparing himself to speak. You sat across from him, sitting with perfect posture and legs crossed and hands folded on your lap still avoiding eye contact. 

“Jesus, will you relax?” Joe finally urged. “You look like I’m about to yell at you or something.” He added. 

“I’m just waiting for you to talk. You said we should talk, not me.” You reminded. 

He sat up and huffed while rolling his eyes.  

“Ok fine. Du bist azoy ekshn (y) (You are so stubborn.)” Joe said under his breath in Yiddish. 

“Ruf mikh nisht ekshnus (y) (Do not call me stubborn).” You shot back. 

Liebgott looked at you baffled. He wasn’t sure if he actually heard what he heard. 

“You...you speak Yiddish?” He managed to ask. 

“Und Deutsch (g)(And German).” You added. 

He just stared at you, eyes wide and utterly at loss for words.  

“En Nederlands. (d)(And Dutch).” You continued. 

The corner of his mouth curled into a faint smile. 

“That’s...that’s really something. You’re one up on me with Dutch.” He accredited. 

“Well, that’s one of the other reasons I was assigned to Easy Company.” You revealed. 

“Makes sense.” He summed up. 

You took a deep breath to reset your patience.  

“So, before you called me stubborn, you had something you wanted to discuss?” You prompted. 

“Um, yeah. About what Guarnere said. I know you heard.” He expressed. 

“Ok. So?” You reply briskly. 

“So, I know it probably upset you. Bull even noticed. I wanted to make sure what he said didn’t bring you down too much.” Joe explained. 

You walked back to your rocking chair, tucked your knees up to your chest as you rewrapped yourself in the wool blanket. You buried your face in your ‘cocoon.’ Joe got up and squatted next to you, placing one hand on your exposed foot from under the blanket, the other on the armrest of the chair to steady it from rocking. 

“Y/N?” He said softly, his head tilted so he could look into your eyes if you happened to look up. 

You cautiously lifted your head from hiding, only to meet his concerned gaze. Tears had welled up in your eyes, but not from hurt pride or sadness. These were tears of anger and confusion. 

“I just don’t understand...” You began. Your voice was hoarse and scratchy from choking down your tears, and it hurt your throat to speak anymore. Joe waited silently, just letting you vent. The hand he had on your foot gently squeezed and released in an attempt to sooth your frustration. 

“Just because I’m a woman? Because I’m from Chicago? Or that I’m Italian and Irish?” Your words stumble out, as the tears start to flow staining wet streaks down your cheeks.  

Joe was steadfast and quiet, hanging on your every angered word. 

“I feel like nobody takes me seriously, Joe.” You finally make eye contact with him as you sniffle.  “A woman can’t be their own entity in a man’s world without being someone’s ‘girl.’ Like I can’t possibly do anything on my own because I’m a female and in the Army working alongside men.” You concluded your rant by resting your chin on your knee, staring out into the room lost in your own thoughts. 

Joe shifted closer to you. 

“You know that’s not true, right?” He whispered to you, almost in your ear. 

“What isn’t?” You asked. 

“That nobody takes you seriously. The guys, well, they like ya. Except Guarnere, of course, but nobody listens to him.” You both chuckle together. 

You dried some of the tears with your blanket. 

“Anyway, what I’m trying to get at here, is that we respect you for what you do for us and glad to have you on our side. Woman or man, you’ve shown us you won’t take anyone’s shit and that we can depend on you to have our backs out there. And I’ll always have yours.” He reassured you. 

You looked at him surprised after catching that last part. 

“I mean, we’ll always have your back.” He tried correcting himself as he leaned back to put a little space between the two of you since he was close enough to your face he could’ve practically kissed you. For a split second, you almost thought he was going to. 

You decided to let his little unprecedented confession slide so you wouldn’t embarrass him or yourself. 

“Thanks, Joe.” you said fondly with a weak smile. 

“Anytime, Gams.” He said teasingly.  

You exchange a smile. 

The door suddenly swung open as Mae and Doris crashed through the threshold. They froze when they saw you and Liebgott next to eachother in the corner of the room. An impish grin spread across Mae’s face as her eyes flitted back and forth between you and him. 

“Hey, Joe, whaddya know?” Mae asked in her playful kittenish tone. 

Doris shamelessly laughed, enjoying the torture you were enduring. 

Joe stood up progressively, then faced her. 

“Hey, ‘All the way Mae’ whaddya say?” He puffed his chest out triumphantly, quite proud of his comeback.  

You hiccupped from shock, covering your mouth to suppress your laugh. You stood up placing a hand on Liebgott’s shoulder gently pushing him towards the door. 

“Thanks for the pep talk, Liebgott. I’ll see you later.” He looked over his shoulder at you. 

“I’ll be back at 1830.” He told you before striding to the door. Mae and Doris were coyishly smiling as he passed them. When the door closed behind him the floodgates opened. 

“Y/N!!” Doris shrieked. 

“Spill the beans, honey! How was he??” Mae asked implying you had sex with Liebgott. 

You could tell the anticipation was killing them. You looked back and forth between both of them, almost considering going along with the ruse that you had slept with Joe, but decided against it because Doris and Mae would tell everyone they knew about it. 

“You two are ridiculous.” You finally said. 

“Awww, so no details??” Doris asked disappointed. 

“Doris, don’t you get it? It means she didn’t screw him.” Mae explained rolling her eyes walking away annoyed and disinterested. 

You laughed to yourself, then decided to freshen up your puffy face before Joe got back. 

~~~~~~~ 

[privatebullshit]

promo for 'with faith undaunted' [a joe toye x nurse! reader series]

— ♡

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction based on the actor that portrays the real life hero, joe toye, in the hbo miniseries 'band of brothers.' this is not to disrespect any veterans/active duty members at all. it is purely for the enjoyment of the fandom.

summary: y/n y/l/n is a nurse-in-training when she meets joseph j. toye in 1942, shortly after the attack on pearl harbor, at camp toccoa. she's the americana dream, he's a reckless private. what happens when their fates cross paths?

♡ follow along on their journey of love, loss, and hardship as the story progresses in events taking place before, during, and after the war. ♡

wfu taglist: @luvrottt @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @fromjupitertocentauri @annasansh @bluecanvasshoe @catbusloki ♡ please comment below if you'd like to be added to the list ♡

wfu masterlist bofb masterlist

— ♡

To My Darling Joseph,

I hope this letter finds you well amidst the war. The hospitals have gotten busier and more frantic these days. Wounded soldiers are pouring in faster than we can keep up with. Our supplies are very low, and so is our morale. I just pray every time I see another man brought in. . . that it isn't you, my darling soldier.

I'm to be transferred to the army hospital at Atlantic City, New Jersey, in a few days. I hope you'll be able to write back to me soon, it's been quite a while since I last saw you in England for the injury you sustained in Operation Market Garden.

One of the nurses in Bastogne, Renée, wrote to me about your recent arm injury. Don't you dare take that sling off before it heals, Joseph.

Anyhow, I've been quite reminiscent lately. Do you remember when it all started? Back in Toccoa, while I was just a nurse-in-training, and you, nothing but a reckless private, always in my aid station?

Let those memories keep you warm in Bastogne's frigid cold. I love you dearly, my Joe. I'm praying for you.

With love,

Your Darling, Y/N

[bia-wayne-west]

Pregnancy — Barry Allen x Reader

Characters: Barry Allen (The Flash), Reader (You).

Synopsis: You have been married to Barry for two years. One fine day, you start to feel a hunger worthy of a little speedster.

Warnings: Pregnancy, seasickness, pregnancy discovery

N / A: I did this imagine in 10 minutes. I watched a pregnancy movie with my cousin, and then we went to watch The Flash, she suggested the idea to me and I loved it. Hope you like it.

I'm a Latina girl who doesn't speak fluent English, so I want to apologize for any writing errors you find. Feel free to correct me.

MASTERLIST

The day had begun. The sun came through the window, causing you to curl up even more in the duvets.

You ran your hand over the bed, feeling the sheet to feel Allen's warm body. There was only an empty space, indicating that he had been awake for some time.

Your mind tried to sleep again, however, a sweet smell flooded his nostrils. You could have sworn it smelled like pancakes and condensed milk.

The sheets were set aside as his feet touched the ground. With delicate steps, you made your way to the kitchen, being guided by the wonderful smell. You had no intention of surprising Barry, as he could see everything happening in slow motion and could easily see you approaching.

 Allen held a frying pan, trying to flip a pancake. On the kitchen counter was a stack of pancakes and two coffee cups of Jitters.

With a smile on your face, you approached your husband, placing your hand on the speedster's shoulder. Barry's face lit up, showing a sweet smile.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, my dear.”

“What are you doing?” You ask.

“You always make coffee, I decided to make it for you today.” Allen placed the last finished pancake on the plate, enjoying the view of what he had just prepared. “Are you hungry?”

“I think I could devour a whole cow.” Your stomach churned, complaining of hunger.

 You usually didn't eat much, unlike your husband. Barry had to consume at least fifteen thousand calories daily, so he could stay upright and healthy. He literally ate all day and kept him body skinny.

Unlike you, who hardly felt hungry. You were the perfect couple. When you couldn't finish your snack, Allen was able to eat everything and still had plenty of room in his stomach. A few weeks ago, you began to feel extraordinarily hungry.

 You ate almost the same amount of food as Barry. It seemed like you were a speedster, too. Her sense of smell could sense food being prepared in other rooms, as well as feeling terrible nausea and dizziness. You thought it was vitamin’s problem, and you bought some to make yourself feel better.

 Within seconds, the breakfast table was fully set. Without much ceremony, you joined your husband to enjoy their morning meal.

“I could have sworn you have hypermetabolism too.” He joked when he saw you steal a pancake from him after eating yours.

“I don't know what happened. It feels like I'm eating for an army.” You verbalized, picking up the dishes to wash them. As soon as your hand placed the last glass in the sink, a horrible sensation gripped your entire body. You ran to the bathroom, feeling a terrible urge to vomit. Your body leaned over the toilet as the breakfast was poured out.

In less than a second, Barry appeared at your side, his face full of concern. One hand held your hair, while the other smoothed your back.

 “Are you okay?”

“I am. I think I ate more than my stomach can handle.”

“Let Caitlin examine you.”

“I told you I'm fine, dear.” You got up with Barry's help. Along the way, you felt your vision darken and your body vibrate, as if you were a speedster. “I think going to see Caitlin is a good idea.”

 (…)

“I have two new features.” Caitlin said, as soon as she finished examining your blood. “A good one and a bad one, depending on one's point of view.”

“What's the good news?” Barry asked. Cisco, Joe, Barry, and you were waiting in the exam room. Caitlin held a sheet of paper with the results of your exams.

“You're pregnant.”

 Your world spun. Your chest collapsed with happiness. A year ago, you and Barry were planning to have a child, but you never had any luck.

Allen took your hand. The speedster's face was flooded with a smile. Everyone in the room was happy with the news of yet another person being added to Team Flash.

“And what's the bad news?” You asked.

“Very well.” She seemed to be looking for the right words. “I did an ultrasound, and it looks like the baby's heart has stopped.”

“You mean he's dead?”

Everyone in the room asked at once. Tears had already appeared in your eyes, you had barely gotten used to the idea of being a mother, and your little Allen was no longer with you.

“Theoretically, yes.”

“Explain it properly.” You demanded.

“When Barry was struck by lightning, his heart stopped several times. Doctors believed he had died because the machines couldn't record his heartbeat.” She explained. “But his heart had never stopped, what happened is that he was so fast that not even the machines could keep up.”

“So your theory is that the baby is like Barry?” Cisco chimed in. His face was in an expression it was always when he was thinking. “My God, that completely explains your extraordinary hunger and why you started vibrating like a speedster.”

“Our son is also fast.” Allen said, grinning from ear to ear. He deposited a beak on your lips, still holding your hand.

 Ten years later…

 You've finished setting the lunch table. The dish of the day was pasta with broccoli and cheese. Benjamin Allen's favorite meal.

After putting the last dish on the table, you called your child. Benjamin quickly descended using his powers.

The wind caused by your little one's speed left one of the glasses on the table unbalanced. Before Ben had a chance to catch him, another speedster came in front of him. Barry put the glass right where it was before, and went to meet him.

The brunette wrapped his arms around his body and pressed a sweet kiss to her neck. A laugh escaped his throat as he saw his son utter an exclamation of disgust.

“Please, your son is here watching you be completely disgusting. Ben said, sitting in the chair.

Benjamin has the same hair color as yours, but he had the same green eyes as his father. Everyone who saw him always said the same thing, that he was a faithful copy of Barry Allen.

 He and your husband were the guardians of Central City. The little one has not yet obtained all of his father's abilities, but he has the super speed and the ability to vibrate his body and molecules.

 In the middle of lunch, you smiled when you saw the size of your child's plate, which was three times larger than yours. That scene reminded him of something.

“Ben, would you like to hear the story of the day I found out I was pregnant?”

[minoulapin]

Chapter Two: Of Tactics and Tension - Between Giving & Taking - Y. JW

Pairing: Demon!Jungwon x Angel!Reader

Genre: Forbidden Love, Fantasy, Romance, Mystery

Wc: 5k

Synopsis: A love unspoken, a fate unwritten, An angel and demon, forever forbidden. Bound by the laws of heaven and hell, A story of longing they dare not tell. At the Academy of the Occult, angels and demons coexist under a fragile truce. But when a celestial heir is assassinated, war looms, secrets unravel, and forbidden desires ignite. In a world where their love is a crime, will they defy fate or be consumed by it?

A/N: Coucou! I hadn’t planned for anyone to read this, but the fact that a few of you actually took the time to do so is honestly astonishing to me. I still don’t know exactly how many chapters this story will have, but I expect it to be around 20, so we’ve still got a long way to go. But for now, here’s Chapter 2! Hope you enjoy! -Joe

Tag list: open!! @whateveridontcaresheesh @iifrui @stormy1408 @indigoez @riribelle (Comment to be added)

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They called it The First War. The war that shaped everything.

Long ago, before the war, there was balance. Angels and demons were not enemies. They were two halves of a whole light and shadow, order and chaos. Opposites, yet necessary.

But harmony was an illusion.

The angels, divinely made and righteous in their purpose, believed they were meant to lead. They were the protectors, the guides, the rightful rulers of the world. The demons, untamed and lawless, were expected to follow.

But demons were not made to follow.

What began as defiance turned into rebellion.

They rejected celestial rule, tore down the structures that bound them, shattered the dominion the angels had built and in the process, they razed entire celestial cities.

The angels, unwilling to stand aside, responded in kind.

What began as a conflict of control became a war of survival.

For a century, angels and demons clashed, their battles setting fire to the skies, their hatred carving rifts into the earth itself. Cities burned. Skies darkened. The world trembled under the weight of war.

The Celestial Heir, chosen by divinity itself, led the angels into battle. It was his leadership that turned the tide. His strategies forced the demons to retreat, his armies cut through their rebellion, and with a final, decisive victory.

The demons were cast into the abyss. Their forces broken, their rule dismantled, their rebellion crushed.

The Rift between realms was sealed.

The war had ended. The angels had prevailed. Balance was restored.

But the cost had been great.

To prevent another war, the Academy of the Occult was founded a place where the two sides could learn, negotiate, and coexist. A fragile peace was built from the ruins, upheld by rules that neither side could break.

For centuries, the system held.

Until now.

Peace was never real.

It was only tolerated.

And now, it was crumbling.

The Grand Hall was suffocating in its silence. The air felt too still, as if the Academy itself was holding its breath. Light filtered in through the towering stained-glass windows, casting fractured beams of gold and crimson across the stone floors, celestial and infernal colors, intertwined but separate, like everything else in this place.

Y/n sat among the celestial students, but she felt the divide more than ever.

The infernals occupied the opposite side of the hall, draped in shadows where the light didn't quite reach. The celestial students remained poised and composed, their faces unreadable, while the infernals lounged in forced nonchalance, their tension masked by grins that didn't reach their eyes.

Two storms, sitting on opposite ends of the same battlefield.

At the front of the hall, Headmaster Solmora stood before them, his presence commanding, his robes flowing like liquid night. His face was calm, too calm. His voice, smooth and measured, echoed through the high ceilings like a sermon.

"As of today, new restrictions will be put in place to ensure the stability of our institution."

Y/n's fingers drummed against her knee. Here we go.

Beside her, Jake shifted, arms crossed over his chest. He hated this. She could tell by the way his jaw tightened, the way his shoulders held an edge of restrained frustration. He had seen this before the slow tightening of control, the careful manipulation of words that didn't sound like threats but were.

"These measures are not meant to punish," Solmora continued, his voice even, too even. "But to preserve. Until the investigation into recent events is complete, celestial and infernal students will be monitored more closely. There will be stricter curfews, and shared activities will be regulated to prevent further... disputes."

Jake let out a soft, dry laugh under his breath. "So, separation until we all behave like good little soldiers. Great."

She smirked. "We should start taking bets on how long it takes for someone to break the rules."

Jake arched a brow. "You mean for you to break the rules?"

She gasped, pressing a hand to her chest in mock offense. "You wound me."

Jake just gave her a look.

She grinned. "Fine. I give it two days."

Jake pretended to consider. "Three, if you're trying to be subtle."

"I'm never subtle."

"That's what worries me."

Despite the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, Y/n could see it, the shadow in his expression. The tension in his shoulders. This wasn't just another round of Academy politics. It was something worse.

Jake had spent his whole life being careful. Y/n had spent hers pushing the line.

And now, the line was being redrawn.

Solmora continued, his tone light but his words heavy.

"There will be no further warnings," he said simply. "Any student caught violating these regulations will face the consequences."

Consequences.

She didn't roll her eyes, but she wanted to.

No one had actually explained what that meant. Would students be expelled? Detained? Were they going to start dragging people out of their dorms in the middle of the night?

Because that's what this felt like.

Not a safety measure.

A warning.

Jake exhaled sharply. "This isn't about keeping the peace."

She glanced at him. "I know."

This wasn't about rules. It was about control. It was about tightening the leash just enough that no one noticed they were being strangled.

And worse?

It was working.

Because no one in the Grand Hall was speaking.

Because they all knew things were only going to get worse.

Y/n wasn't supposed to care.

That's what she told herself. That's what they were all supposed to believe.

The Celestial Heir had been murdered. A demon had done it. End of story.

Except, it wasn't.

Not to her.

And the more she thought about it, the less any of it made sense.

The dining hall was loud, but it wasn't the kind of noise that came from casual conversation.

It was charged.

Laughter that carried a little too sharp, hushed murmurs that died the moment someone walked past. The new restrictions had already shifted the Academy's atmosphere, less like a school, more like a war camp.

Y/n felt it. The way students sat in clusters, celestial and infernal tables pulled further apart than before. The way angels muttered about retribution while demons leaned into their usual indifference, except now, it wasn't just for show.

And Y/n?

She was somewhere in between.

She didn't have many good options.

Most of the celestial tables were already full.

Not that she'd sit there anyway.

She had burned too many bridges to be welcomed among the devout, the ones who recited rules like scripture and followed orders without blinking.

The feeling was mutual.

She could already hear the whispers.

"She got written up last month for sneaking into the restricted archives."

"She made Daeon cry during sparring."

"She told Instructor Ren that his strategy lessons were outdated."

(Which—they were.)

She had argued with most of them at least once. Fought with a few. Gotten some in trouble just for existing nearby.

They weren't especially fond of her.

She wasn't particularly fond of them either.

She stuck out her tongue at one of them as she walked past, watching as their face twisted in irritation.

Jake sighed beside her. "Really?"

She shrugged. "If they're going to stare, I might as well give them something to look at."

Jake pinched the bridge of his nose but said nothing. He had long since given up on trying to force her to be likable.

Her gaze flicked across the room, searching.

Great.

The only open table was Sunoo's.

Sunoo had never been a loner before.

He used to command a room, not because he wanted to, but because he didn't know how to exist any other way. He had a way of pulling attention, of standing just a little too tall, speaking just a little too loud. People followed him, even when they didn't want to.

But now?

They avoided him.

It wasn't just grief.

It was the black cloud around him, the weight of something heavier than mourning.

She didn't mind Sunoo.

He was sharp, prideful, too much of an open wound to be handled delicately, but he was also different. And if there was one thing Y/n could respect, it was someone who didn't fit neatly into the mold they were given.

So without hesitating, she sat.

Jake followed, though his disapproval was loud, even in silence.

They settled at the far edge of the table, just enough distance to make it clear they weren't trying to intrude.

Sunoo didn't look up.

Didn't acknowledge them.

Jake exhaled through his nose, picking up his utensils without a word.

Y/n, however, didn't wait.

She grabbed an apple and leaned into her chair. "So," she said, breaking the silence, "what exactly did they find at the crime scene?"

Jake didn't react at first.

Sunoo did.

His gaze flicked toward her, sharp and suspicious.

"Why?" he asked flatly.

She shrugged, spearing a piece of fruit with her fork. "Just wondering."

Sunoo's stare lingered. Unimpressed. Unamused.

"You don't just wonder about things like that."

He wasn't wrong.

Jake set his glass down, slow and deliberate.

She knew that move, controlled. Guarded.

He had stiffened but not too much. He was watching, waiting, trying to figure out where she was going with this.

She exhaled through her nose. "It just seems... convenient."

Jake blinked. "Convenient?"

Y/n leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice.

"A demon blade," she said. "Infernal energy, scattered across the room like a warning sign. Doesn't it seem a little... obvious?"

Sunoo's expression hardened.

"You think it wasn't a demon?"

"I think," she said carefully, "that it's strange how quickly the Council decided the case was closed."

That hit a nerve.

Sunoo scoffed, shaking his head. "What does it matter?"

Y/n glanced at Jake. He wasn't stopping her. Not yet.

So she kept going.

"The Council never makes decisions this fast," she pressed. "And it's not just that, it's the way they're acting."

Jake's jaw tightened. "They're acting like they already know the answer."

Sunoo leaned back, crossing his arms. "Because they do. A demon did it. Why are you making this more complicated than it needs to be?"

She tapped her fingers against the table. Slow. Rhythmic. Calculated.

"The Celestial Heir wasn't just anyone," she said. "He was supposed to rule. If a demon really did assassinate him, don't you think they'd want a bigger show of force?"

Sunoo frowned. "What?"

Y/n met his gaze.

"Think about it. If demons really wanted to start a war, they wouldn't do it in secret. They'd send a message. They'd send a battalion. Not a single assassin in the middle of the night."

That gave Sunoo pause.

She saw it in the way his fingers twitched, in the way he tilted his head slightly, just enough to tell her he was thinking about it.

For a moment, she thought she had him.

Then, his expression closed off.

"Even if it was suspicious," he muttered, "what does it change?"

She hesitated.

What does it change?

Everything.

But she didn't say that.

Instead, she sighed, pushing her plate away. "Nothing, I guess."

Jake nudged her knee under the table.

A warning.

She wasn't done, but for now, she would let it rest.

Y/n didn't get her answer.

But someone knew she was asking.

Later that evening, when she opened her books to review war theory notes, something slipped out, a small folded scrap of parchment, wedged between the pages.

She almost dismissed it as another forgotten note.

Until she read the words.

Stop asking questions about the Heir.

That was it.

No name. No signature. No indication of who had written it.

But it wasn't an outright threat.

It was worse.

It was a reminder that she was being watched.

Y/n's breath was steady, but her fingers weren't.

She stared at the message, replaying the conversation at lunch. Who had overheard?

A chair scraped the floor behind her.

She crumpled the note into her palm just as Jake sat across from her.

He frowned slightly. "You okay?"

She forced a smirk, slipping the note into her sleeve. "Never better."

Jake didn't look convinced. But he didn't push, either.

He already worried too much.

And now?

Now, she was sure.

The murder wasn't random. The Heir knew something. And someone was trying to bury it.

Y/n made a choice.

She was going to find out the truth.

No matter what it took.

War wasn't coming. It was already here.

Not with swords, not yet, but with legislation, orders, and education.

The Academy had introduced a mandatory battle strategy course under the guise of "historical study." Officially, it was meant to analyze the tactics of the First War, breaking down celestial and infernal military strategies for the sake of understanding.

But no one was naïve enough to believe that was all it was.

This class wasn't about history. It was about preparing for the war to come.

The lecture hall was buzzing with low chatter when Y/n walked in, scanning the room for an empty seat.

Her first mistake was assuming she had a choice.

"Find your assigned seat," the professor's voice rang out, deep and authoritative. "Your partners have already been chosen."

She suppressed a sigh.

Professor Aldric wasn't someone who tolerated nonsense. An older celestial, but one of the few who claimed to be neutral. Whether or not that was true was another matter. His graying hair was cropped short, and his piercing gaze had a way of rooting students in place. He wasn't as strict as some of the instructors, but he had a reputation for calculated discipline.

And unfortunately, he wasn't finished talking.

"This course will function as a means of analysis," Aldric continued. "You will be partnered with someone from the opposing side. Your task is to evaluate past war strategies, what worked, what failed, and what should never be repeated. You are expected to learn from each other, not argue pointlessly about whose nation is superior."

Y/n doubted that last part was possible.

She exhaled through her nose, already bracing herself for whoever she was about to be stuck with.

She scanned the list of assigned seats on the board.

Her stomach dropped.

Paired with: Jungwon.

Perfect.

She spotted him at their table before he saw her.

Jungwon sat with the same calculated ease he always did, posture deliberately relaxed, arms draped over the desk like nothing around him was worth his attention. It was effortless, practiced, the kind of unbothered composure that made people second-guess themselves. Like this class, this assignment, and the fact that she was walking toward him were equally unworthy of his time.

Y/n, on the other hand, gripped her pen a little too tightly.

She slid into the seat beside him, her movements clipped, controlled. The moment she did, the air between them changed, tightened, sharpened into something tense and unspoken.

Jungwon barely acknowledged her.

Y/n didn't speak.

But even in silence, they drew attention.

At first, it was just passing glances, curious flickers of interest from their classmates. But curiosity turned into something else. Something heavier. Because this wasn't just any celestial paired with any demon.

Y/n and Jungwon were both outliers.

She had never fit the celestial mold, too outspoken, too reckless, too quick to challenge authority when she should have followed it. She wasn't soft-spoken, she wasn't poised, and she certainly wasn't the type to stand aside when someone told her to. She had a sharp tongue, a restless mind, and a way of making people either respect her or avoid her entirely.

Jungwon, on the other hand, was something demons didn't understand.

Demons thrived on impulse, chaos, the thrill of provocation. They fought to prove their strength, to leave a mark, to claim something as theirs. Jungwon never did.

He didn't stir chaos for the sake of it. He didn't waste his energy on mindless fights or cheap power plays. He was still, composed, controlled. He didn't raise his voice when he was angry, he simply spoke, and people listened.

And that was why demons feared him.

They avoided him because they couldn't predict him. Because they could fight recklessness, match arrogance with arrogance, but Jungwon?

Jungwon was something else entirely.

People didn't just look because it was unusual. They looked because it didn't make sense.

A celestial who didn't act like one.

A demon who didn't need to prove himself.

And the space between them, thin as a blade's edge, humming with an unspoken challenge neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

She could feel it.

And she hated that she could.

Jungwon didn't look at her right away.

For a while, he just sat there, leaning back in his chair, fingers tapping idly against the edge of the desk. Not impatient. Not distracted. Just waiting.

Y/n ignored him.

Or at least, she tried to.

But she could feel it, the weight of their last encounter still lingering in the space between them. The moment in the courtyard. The way he had intervened. The way he had looked at her afterward.

Like he had seen something he hadn't expected.

Like he hadn't quite figured out what to do with her yet.

She exhaled slowly, drumming her fingers against the desk before tilting her head toward him.

"So..." she drawled, keeping her voice light. "Did the guy you sent flying into the wall forgave you?"

Jungwon finally glanced at her, unbothered. "I wouldn't know."

Y/n raised a brow. "You didn't ask?"

Jungwon shrugged. "Why would I?"

She huffed. "You're seriously not even a little regretful?"

"No." Jungwon leaned back in his chair, completely unconcerned. "It's not like I apologized."

Y/n blinked. "Not even a fake apology?"

"Why would I fake something I don't mean?"

She scoffed, shaking her head. "You're impossible."

Jungwon smirked. "And yet, here you are, still talking to me."

Y/n exhaled sharply. "Unfortunately."

Jungwon hummed, but didn't argue.

For a second, the conversation felt like something else, like a game. Like neither of them was actually trying to win, just waiting to see how long the other would keep playing.

But then,

The assignment.

She cleared her throat, opening her notebook. "The celestial strategy was justified," she started, keeping her voice neutral. "The war was inevitable, but our methods ensured survival. We took calculated action. We didn't fight just to fight."

Jungwon let out a short, almost silent laugh. "That's what you tell yourselves?"

Y/n frowned. "It's the truth."

Jungwon finally turned toward her, his expression shifting just slightly, enough to make her sit up straighter.

"You think your side was righteous?" he mused, voice smooth, controlled. "Tell me, does righteous war include burning entire cities?"

She inhaled sharply.

She knew that. She knew what had been done.

But hearing it from him, so blunt, so matter-of-fact, sent a strange weight settling in her chest.

Her fingers curled around her pen. "You're one to talk. Your kind—"

Jungwon's expression flickered. Not in anger, but something else. Something quiet.

His voice dropped, the teasing edge vanishing. Now, it was something different.

"My kind?"

He leaned in slightly, not enough to touch, but enough that she felt the space shrink between them.

"Say it."

Y/n held his gaze.

The class had gone still. Conversations slowed. People were watching, listening, waiting for what would happen next.

For the first time, she wondered how much Jungwon actually hated her.

And why, somehow, it didn't feel like hatred at all.

She straightened her shoulders, refusing to look away. "You know what I meant."

Jungwon tilted his head. "Do I?"

She exhaled, forcing herself to push forward. "The infernal strategy was reckless. You destroyed celestial cities just to prove a point. It wasn't defense, it was chaos. There was no structure, no discipline. That's why you lost."

Jungwon's gaze sharpened. "You think we lost?"

Y/n blinked. "You didn't win."

Jungwon leaned back, studying her. "Winning and losing are concepts celestials care about. For us, it wasn't about that."

She scoffed. "Right. Because it's so much more noble to burn everything down without thinking of the consequences."

Jungwon's lips curled slightly. "You think your side thought about the consequences? You think they hesitated before sending fire down on those cities?"

Y/n's jaw clenched.

Jungwon continued. "Maybe we never wanted to win. Maybe it was about something else entirely."

She frowned. "Like what?"

Jungwon was quiet for a moment. Then—

"Like proving that no one should rule."

She stilled.

That—

That wasn't what she had expected him to say.

His voice was quieter now, less sharp, but somehow heavier. "Celestials fight for control. Demons fight to break it. We weren't trying to take the throne from you." He exhaled slowly. "We were trying to burn it."

Y/n didn't answer right away.

Because—

Because maybe there was something in that.

Something she had never thought about before.

She looked at him then, really looked at him, and for the first time, she wasn't just arguing with a demon.

She was arguing with someone who might understand something she didn't.

The air between them shifted. Not softer. Not lighter.

Just different.

And maybe, just for a moment

She wasn't sure who was winning anymore.

Then—

Laughter.

Slow, amused, deliberate.

The moment snapped like a thread pulled too tight.

Y/n turned her head toward the source, already knowing who it was before she saw him.

Heeseung.

The one person at the Academy who never played by the rules, not the celestial ones, not the infernal ones, not even his own.

A trickster. A wild card. A demon who found joy in chaos, not because he craved destruction, but because he liked watching how people unraveled.

And right now?

He was watching them.

"You know," Heeseung mused, lazily propping his chin on his hand, "I think you two should argue more often. It's kind of thrilling."

She exhaled sharply. "Oh, shut up."

Jungwon didn't acknowledge him, his gaze still set ahead, posture as still as ever. But Y/n saw it, the slow exhale through his nose, the slight shift in his fingers against the desk.

It wasn't much. Barely noticeable.

But Heeseung noticed.

He always noticed.

And worse? He enjoyed it.

Heeseung was an expert in tension. He could feel it crackling in the air, something sharp, something raw, something unresolved.

Most would step away from it.

Heeseung stepped toward it.

And so, before she could even think to react, Heeseung was there, close, too close, his body language lazy but deliberate, his presence an interruption as much as an invitation.

"You know," he murmured, reaching out with casual ease, plucking a stray lock of her hair between his fingers, twirling it idly. "You'd make an excellent strategist."

She raised a brow, unimpressed. "And why's that?"

"Because you're sharp," Heeseung said smoothly, voice like silk threaded with something sharper beneath it. "Quick. You think on your feet. You know how to get under people's skin."

His lips curled at the edges, and his fingers brushed lightly against her strands before letting them slip away.

"A little reckless, maybe," he added, tilting his head, "but that just makes you more fun to watch."

Y/n scoffed. "Glad to know I'm entertaining."

"Oh, very," Heeseung grinned.

Then—

"In fact," he mused, as if the thought had just occurred to him, "maybe you should come by my dorm sometime. We can study strategy together."

His tone was too casual.

She blinked. Oh.

There it was. The shift.

She knew exactly what he meant.

Jungwon didn't react.

Not in any way that mattered. Not in any way anyone else would notice.

But Heeseung wasn't just anyone else.

His gaze flicked toward Jungwon, just for a second.

And he saw it.

The smallest, most imperceptible change.

Jungwon's fingers curled subtly into the fabric of his sleeve.

Not much. Barely anything at all.

But it was there.

And to Heeseung? That was everything.

His smirk deepened, his attention drifting back to her with renewed interest.

"You want to study strategy?" Y/n deadpanned.

"Of course," Heeseung said innocently, but his smirk betrayed him. "I'll even let you pick the battlefield."

She narrowed her eyes. "You mean the desk or the bed?"

Heeseung grinned, teeth sharp, eyes darker than before. "See? You catch on fast."

His gaze dipped, not subtle, not shy. He let his eyes trail from her face, down, then back up, taking his time in a way that was meant to be noticed.

She shoved him away with a scoff, warmth creeping up her neck despite herself.

Jungwon still didn't react.

But his grip on his sleeve was tight.

Heeseung saw.

Heeseung always saw.

And now?

He had confirmation.

His gaze flicked sideways toward Jungwon, a glint of something dangerous and amused in his expression.

"Jealous?"

Jungwon didn't answer.

Didn't blink.

Didn't give him anything.

But—

The air shifted.

Heeseung felt it.

And that was enough.

His grin widened. "Not talking? That's fine." His voice was teasing, but his eyes were sharp. "I think I already have my answer."

Jungwon remained silent.

But Heeseung knew.

And that?

That was fun.

Jungwon and Heeseung weren't friends.

Not really.

They had known each other for years, but knowing someone and understanding them were two different things.

Heeseung was chaos incarnate, a force of unpredictability who enjoyed life the most when it was on the edge of unraveling.

Jungwon? He was control, calculation, someone who could read a battlefield in seconds and bend it to his will.

That's why they didn't work.

And that's why Heeseung loved messing with him.

Most demons knew better than to poke at Jungwon.

He was respected. Feared. Avoided. Not because he was the loudest, but because he was the quietest.

Because his silence wasn't weakness.

It was unreadable.

Demons were reckless by nature. They played, they fought, they acted without thought. But Jungwon?

Jungwon didn't act. He waited.

Heeseung found that fascinating.

Heeseung, who never knew when to stop. Who never met a rule he didn't want to break. Who thrived in the art of making people unravel.

Jungwon never unraveled.

That was until Y/n.

Heeseung had known Jungwon for a long time. Long enough to know when something got to him.

And Y/n, she got to him.

Heeseung wasn't stupid. He saw the way Jungwon watched her, the way his indifference sharpened whenever she spoke. The way he went from dismissive to intrigued.

So, of course, Heeseung took his chance.

And he wasn't planning on stopping anytime soon.

The professor's dismissal rang through the room, but the tension lingered.

She was the first to stand.

Not because she was in a hurry, but because she needed distance.

She refused to be the one to break eye contact first, but she also wasn't about to sit there any longer than necessary.

She could still feel it.

The weight of Jungwon's gaze. The sharp edges of their conversation, the words still echoing in her head like an unfinished battle.

She didn't look at him.

She wouldn't.

But she felt him there, unmoving, unreadable, watching.

She exhaled through her nose, gripping her notebook a little too tightly as she turned on her heel. She didn't need to look to know he wasn't following.

But he was still watching.

And that was worse.

Jungwon didn't move.

Didn't glance away.

Didn't let the conversation leave his mind as easily as he let Y/n leave the room.

She was still bristling. He could tell.

She had been too controlled when she stood up, too stiff.

Not because she had lost.

Because she hated that she hadn't won.

Jungwon tilted his head slightly, watching the way she walked away, purposeful, but not rushed. She didn't run from things.

That was what made her different.

And different?

Was dangerous.

A low chuckle broke the silence beside him.

Jungwon exhaled through his nose before he even turned his head.

Heeseung.

The other demon leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms lazily behind his head, grinning like he had just been thoroughly entertained.

"Well," Heeseung mused, "that was fun."

Jungwon didn't respond.

Didn't acknowledge him.

Which, of course, only encouraged him.

Heeseung sighed dramatically, standing up, letting his movements be deliberately slow.

"Come on," he drawled, shaking his head. "I know you love me, but staring at Y/n like that is going to make me jealous."

Jungwon shot him a flat look. "I don't stare."

Heeseung's grin widened.

"You don't blink when she's in the room," he countered. "It's basically the same thing."

Jungwon said nothing.

Didn't flinch.

Didn't react.

And that was enough of an answer.

Heeseung hummed under his breath, watching Jungwon's carefully maintained silence with too much amusement.

"See, this is why I like you," Heeseung said, voice light but knowing. "You pretend you don't care, and yet..."

Jungwon ignored him.

Grabbed his things. Moved toward the door without a word.

Heeseung just watched him go, his smirk deepening, eyes flashing with something far too entertained.

The class was over.

But this?

This was just getting started.

Y/n knew it.

Jungwon knew it.

And Heeseung?

He was just looking forward to watching it all unfold.

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🏷️ @whateveridontcaresheesh @iifrui @stormy1408 @indigoez @riribelle (Comment to be added)

[1americanconservative]

choeshow

Immigration agents collared 11 illegal Iranian migrants — including suspected terrorists — over the weekend in eight states as the Border Patrol warned of “possible sleeper” cells in the US. Immigration and Customs Enforcement nabbed former Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps member Mehran Makari Sahel, who has “admitted connections” to the Iran-backed terrorist group Hezbollah, according to CBS News. He was busted near St. Paul, Minnesota. Yousef Mehridehno, whose name appears on the terrorist watchlist, was arrested by ICE outside Jackson, Mississippi, according to the outlet. Feds discovered that Mehridehno lied on a visa application after he had already been living in the country illegally for eight years. ICE agents also arrested Ribvar Karmi in northern Alabama on Sunday and found he was carrying an Iranian army ID card that revealed he was a sniper between 2018 and 2021, CBS reported. Karmi entered the US in October 2024 on a K-1 visa for immigrants who are engaged to American citizens. Five of the 11 Iranians swept up by ICE had previous criminal convictions that included grand larceny and drug and firearm possession, according to CBS News. “Under Secretary Noem, DHS has identified and arrested known or suspected terrorists and violent extremists that illegally entered this country, came in through [President Joe] Biden’s fraudulent parole programs or otherwise,” DHS said in an X post Tuesday. “We have been saying we are getting the worst of the worst out — and we are. We don’t wait until a military operation to execute; we proactively deliver on President Trump’s mandate to secure the homeland,” DHS said. Border agents were warned after the US strikes on Iran’s nuclear sites Saturday night to look out for possible Iranian terrorist “sleeper cells,” according to a leaked memo obtained by The Post. Iranian migrants are supposed to undergo stricter vetting by the feds since they’re considered “special interest aliens” due to possible terrorism ties.

[cannibalisation]

HII!! I saw your post saying that you’d be interested in writing for band of brothers and I got so excited and had to request! Can I request a Eugene Roe fic about life with the reader after he comes home? Just some fluffy domestic life type stuff. Ty 🩷

emerald

eugene roe/gn!reader

thank u for the req!! this is short i know, but i still think it’s cute :p (541 words)

caution. gn reader but they wear a necklace and didn’t participate in the physical war effort so it’s kinda fem leaning, no pronoun usage tho. mentions of war ptsd.

IT’S nice to finally have him in your bed again. 

A warmth had returned with his presence, one you were without for far too long. The crickets sing out in the early morning, a soft song for your love. You watch as his chest moves with every breath, every twitch of his expression and every sound of silence. 

His eyebrows furrow and his eyes blink open. He’s watching you now, in a similar, sleep-ridden manner. Eugene Roe was a vision unknown to many people. You were grateful for nothing more. 

“Good mornin’” he hums, dragging his hand to rub the drowse away from his pure hazel eyes. You whisper back a similar greeting, too captivated by his gentle movements. 

He’s been back for what feels like months, but it’s only been a few weeks. Out in the deep of the bayous, the days seem to blur into one. That and the heat alone make you feel like you’ve melted into the mush of the soil like a worm, so the concept of time is often lost to the circumstance. 

You had purchased a train ticket the moment you heard that the war had ended on the radio, heart already deep in your chest at the idea of Eugene having to back up all of his belongings and leave for the Pacific. But fortunately, the Japanese army had surrendered, and he was coming home to you. 

A small sum of cash was sitting pretty on the kitchen table. You had queried one of the local fishermen and asked him to spare you a pound of crawfish so you could serve it up for your man returning from war. From the letters that you had received over the years from Eugene, it became clear that he wasn’t eating well. The moment you saw him amidst the waves of sharply dressed soldiers, one of the first things you noticed was the lack of baby fat on his cheeks. 

It wasn’t a pleasant sight, there was a cast of something in his gaze, something unidentifiable by your abilities. Whatever happened over there, in the trees of European forests and the brick of the local townships was enough to warrant a glance of concern. You didn’t know what to ask of him. It wouldn’t be fair to request he retell the horrors of what he survived, that much you knew. 

“You lost in here, yeah?” 

His voice halted your racing thoughts, his forefinger pushing lightly atop your head, on the crown of your bedridden hair. Your body shudders as he glides his hand down to your chest. 

Fingertips dance along the chain of your necklace. It was a gift from him, said he had been carrying it with him since Holland. A dainty little thing, encrusted with the most beautiful emerald jewel. He clasped it on the first night he was back, after the seafood dinner you had prepared, and you thanked him with a most anticipated kiss, and then much more. 

“What’s the mattuh, mon cœur?”

“Nothing, just glad you’re back. Safe.”

He hums softly in what you can only assume is agreement: yeah, he’s glad that he’s safe now too. 

an. pls more reqs :(( esp babe, lipton and joe toye (id write poly ships x reader as well!)

[wcters]

JUST LET ME BE (CLOSE TO YOU)

pairing: joeseph liebgott x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k

summary: four times you question what you two are and the one time you finally figure it out

warnings/contents: angst (we’re dealing with war), kissing, pda, some drug use (cigarettes), alcohol, swearing, weapons, violence

author’s note: no disrespect to the actual veterans or any of the situations described and written here, this is based on the series and the character of joe liebgott. somewhat ib @softguarnere (if you would like me to change it/take it down i will. it’s not really similar but still). if anyone has any tips for writing for band of brothers, please let me know, longest imagine written so far, and a dedication to my boys skip and penkala

You never knew home could be a person . . . until you joined the army and were surrounded by it, by many different people, and the one person you trusted most ━━ Joseph Liebgott. It was unexpected. To outsiders, they wouldn’t even think you two would speak ━━ let alone be friends. Yes, both of you are different in many ways, but you’re also the same in many ways. Skip Muck, one of your other close friends in Easy Company, joked that part of your souls were intertwined and you two would eventually fall in love. In the beginning, you would laugh it off. But you soon realized how true that was.

1. 1942, TOCCOA, GEORGIA

The army was ruthless. You knew that it would be when you joined Easy Company a couple months earlier, but you didn’t expect it to be this bad . . . only because of a certain officer named Sobel. You swear he had it out for all of you, and lots of the men hadn’t done anything bad ━━ that you knew of. Most of the time your weekend passes were revoked for little things such as some dirt on your gun and a stray string (that wasn’t actually there, you checked multiple times), but this weeked you and Joe were lucky to still have yours. You don’t even know how you both managed that, let alone him.

You two were walking hand in hand down the dimly lit street. You were quietly humming a song as you looked at the various stores as you made your way to one of the bars your group frequented. A few other army guys could be seen walking with each other or a local girl hanging on their arm. On any other night you would’ve looked like any other soldier in the soft lights, but you had switched out your uniform for a dress you had hidden in your barracks. You had thought ‘why not? It’ll probably be the last time I get a chance to wear it’ and threw it on with some heels you borrowed from a girl you knew in town with a promise to return them.

The quietness of the street got smaller and smaller as you made you got closer to the bar. “Crowded tonight, huh?” The man beside spoke out loud, swinging your clasped hands. “I think to us it does, but to them it doesn’t.” You joked while letting out a chuckle. Joe did too before grabbing the door of the bar and opening it for you. You mumbled a “thank you” while music filled your ears. “I’ll find us a seat, you get us drinks.” You told Joe as he nodded and you went to search for a booth.

It wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, and soon enough you and Joe were chatting and laughing while couples danced around you. Joe looked around as you sipped your beer before he got up out of the booth and lent out a hand to you. “Would you like to dance?” He smiled. You laughed before looking around. “Why not?” You agreed and got up, making your way to the dance floor as a slow song began to play.

While leaned your head on his chest as you danced with couples around you, you couldn’t help but wonder what you two were.

2. 1943, BROOKLYN NAVAL SHIPYARD, NEW YORK

The heat of the boat taking you to England was suffocating with all of the soldiers packed in it, but Joe managed to have an arm around you waist while you two were playing cards with Muck and Bill. You were just an observer, butting out after the third game and got lost every one.

“Jesus Bill! You must be cheating!” Joe yelled as the brunette man placed another card down, Muck agreeing sourly. You laughed at that while stealing the cigarette out of Joe’s mouth and taking a hit. “You’re just sorry losers.” Bill laughed at their faces. “You don’t get to laugh y/n, you quit because you kept losing.” Skip pointed at you as he saw your face. “At least I accepted defeat, asshole.” You could feel the small laugh that came out of Joe’s chest and imagined the smirk that was on his face. “She got you there, Skip.”

They continued playing for a little while, you and Joe taking turns smoking until Bill won again and Skip slammed his cards down onto the cot. “Calm down.” You told him, soft smile on your face. “I am calm, it’s just Bill keeps winning and it’s fucking hot in here,” the man gestured to the people around you,” I don’t know how you two are that close. I swear I’m going to die of overheating and you two are practically cuddling.” You made a face to your friend while Joe laughed and made a comment that you couldn’t hear.

You and Joe were really close, you basically almost on his lap at this point, but you had a reason. The boat was packed, not being much room to move around. You didn’t want to climb up all the way onto your cot, and you wanted to keep talking with your friends. Plus, you and him had to be close ━━ you were sharing a cigarette. “We’re sharing a cigarette.” You shrugged, grabbing the object out of his mouth as he yelled a “hey” as you took it. Skip gave you a look as if to say “that’s bullshit” and got up, going to find Penkala. You looked over to Bill and he looked down at his cards, smirk on his face.

You had a reason to be that close . . . right? Or was it something different?

3. 1944, NORMANDY, FRANCE

The gravel crunched underneath your boots. You had just landed somewhere in Normandy ━━ you weren’t sure, you had missed your DZ ━━ and were now on the lookout to hopefully find Easy Company and not some German looking to end your life. That’s why you had you gun aimed into the distance. Every little breeze that shook the branches had yoy freezing up and darting you eyes, only to figure out it was the wind or some rabbit that looked as scared as you. It made you feel a little less alone.

When another bush shook, this time a little longer than usual, you crouched instead of just freezing up, gun still trained to where the sound was coming from. You waited before slowly moving forward, trying to minimize the sound of the road beneath you. You saw the bottom of a pair of boots and it seemed you were both waiting for the other to speak first. That decision was chosen for you.

“Flash.” “Thunder.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you heard that and then saw the multiple pairs of boots. “Y/n?” Someone called out within the group. You squinted trying to see who it was. “Bill!” You exclaimed in surprise before recognizing the few other people with him: Marlarkey, Wynn, Toye, Lipton, some people from the 82nd Airborne, and Hall, a man not from your company but you recognized him from Able Company. You quietly said your greetings before continuing on your way to try and find your rallying point.

After finding and following a set a train tracks, a situation happened where Bill shot before Winter’s Command, you reprimanding him again and jokingly pushing his head as he called you a “stupid mick” which you laughed at. Now the group was on the road to the rallying point. The whole time you had been thinking about Joe. God, you wished he was still alive. You didn’t know what you were going to do if he wasn’t. When you eventually got to the farm, you heard a familiar voice. You stopped as you saw each other before you began to run and give him a hug.

You could hear the mumblings of the other soldiers, but at that moment, you didn’t care. When you pulled away you grabbed his face. “Joeseph Liebgott, I would’ve killed you if you died.” You laughed with tears in your eyes as you checked him for and scratches and scars. “I wouldn’t dream of it doll.” He laughed too before pulling you back in.

You decided at that moment in time that it didn’t care what you two were, as long as you had him, you didn’t care. As long as you knew he was okay.

4. 1944, ARDENNES FOREST, BELGIUM

All you could see was white: the sky, the ground, even the trees that surrounded you, that partly acted as a wall. You were sick of it. You think you would feel this way for the rest of your life ━━ the look and feel of the freezing chill of the snow and forest. Maybe you would move to somewhere warmer, somewhere where it doesn’t snow and the lowest it would get would be 59 degrees Fahrenheit.

Imagining what you would do in the future always helped you get somewhat through the hard times, though a person was the one thing that was a blanket to you. He had told you he left to talk to Lipton, but he hadn’t been back for awhile.

As if the world hated you having a small moment of what little peace you could have, a light broke through the white sky. A yell of “incoming!” from someone near you, either Skip or Penkala, caused you to sink further into your foxhole, well what you could, and cover your ears as the bombing started. When you heard yelling with words like “c’mon!” and “hurry!” you looked up to see Skip and Penkala yelling out to Luz who was out in the open. “Luz!” You yelled to him, “get over here! It’s closer!” He followed your voice and jumped in, but as soon as you both turned around you saw Skip and Penkala get hit with a shell. You knew they didn’t make it.

It was over as soon as it happened, but you were so distracted with what had happened that you didn’t feel the burning on your side until George had asked you if you were okay. You groaned when you first felt the searing pain and lifted up your coat to see the blood soaking it. “Oh, shit. Medic!” You had been with a piece of flying shrapnel from the shell that hit the two. You didn’t have time to register how one of your best friends were killed before Doc Roe was at your side with Luz holding you so you wouldn’t move too much. “Christ, y/n.” Gene mumbled as he got a look at it before grabbing a bandage and wrapping it the best he could.

You were frozen now ━━ not from the cold, or the wound on your side that would cause you to get taken off, you were frozen with the realization of what just happened. You wanted to cry, scream, do anything, but you just . . . couldn’t. Everything around you was fuzzy and you didn’t register that the shelling stopped and you were being taken out until you saw Joe. Then, tears managed to fall and you started to sob. He was mumbling about how you were going to be okay and everything was fine as he followed you to the Jeep.

When you felt the rumble of the Jeep engine, you grabbed Joe’s hand as tight as you could. “I love you, you shithead.” You laughed as you told him. You didn’t know whether you would see him again, and you wanted him to know how you truly felt about him, and how much he ment to you. He froze for a second before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you too. I’ll kill you if you die.”

You laughed one more time as the image of him started to get smaller and smaller as he let go of your hand, slapped the Jeep, and it started to move. You tried to memorize what you could see: his shadow, the way he stands . . . him. You closed your eyes and felt a tear make its way down your face, settling in with the other dry ones.

+1. 1945, BAVARIA, AUSTRIA

The almost-healed wound on your side was a reminder of what you’ve been through, and what you’d missed. You’d been stuck in the hospital since mid December. You attempted to go AWOL multiple times, but you had failed every time.

Your shrapnel scar had ended being worse than Doc Roe thought and you had to be transported to surgery. When you woke up and heard what happened, you immediately wanted to go back and find your company . . . and Joe. You knew you left on a weird note, and wanted to figure it out. That was looming on your mind, along with the grief you finally had time to face. Not really face, more like confront. It was one of the only things you thought about while in there. You hadn’t fully come to terms with it, but you had made some progress.

You had thought about how George was doing, and especially Malarkey. He was Skip and Penkala’s best friend ━━ you were a close second. Bastogne was a horrible place in itself, but having to deal with that while there, to you, was a death wish. You were worried for everyone, the people you left behind.

You had just gotten to Bavaria when you saw Colonel Sink, and he saw you. As one of the very few women in the army, you could say he had a soft spot for you (though you would never say it to his face). You had been told a very uninformative idea of where the airborne was located, but you had been wandering since you got dropped off.

“Sergeant y/n, is that you?” Sink had called out to you as the car stopped. You saluted before you replied with a “yes sir.” “You lookin’ for Easy soldier?” You answered with a yes and conversed for a little bit ━━ mostly about your time in the hospital and what you missed ━━ before he invited you into the Jeep to get a ride up the mountain that looked over you.

That’s where you were know as you made your way up the hill, the familiar rumble of the Jeep underneath you. You couldn’t deny the feeling of excitement and happiness in your stomach as you got closer. You soon heard voices over the engine and on the horizon silhouettes appeared. When the car stopped, you gave a quick thank you, saluted, and made your way to where some of Easy was sitting.

“Having fun without me?” You asked out loud as people turned to you. There were calls of excitement as they saw you and people made their way to greet you, but one of the faces you were looking for was Joe. You eventually saw him getting up from sitting in front of a wheel and you both made eye contact before people split and let there be a clear path to him. You didn’t have to say anything to let him know you were running towards him before jumping on him and giving him a hug. He held you right, as if you were going to leave again, and spinned you around as you both laughed.

He was still holding you, arms around your waist, but had let your feet touch the floor. “Hi.” You smiled. “Hey doll.” Those were the only things said before you lips crashed together and there were cheers from your friends around you. When you parted, your foreheads fell against each other. “I was so worried, I was afraid you weren’t going to come back.” He admitted. “You can’t get rid of me that easy Joe.” You joked before kissing him quickly again and then went on a mission to find Malarkey.

He was leaning against the side of a car, cigarette in his hand. You gave him a tight hug, saying everything you needed to but couldn’t, before parting. You sat and talked while Joe kept a close eye on you.

“Skip was right, y’know.” Malarkey said as he let out some smoke. “What do you mean?” You asked, looking at everyone and the view. “About you and Joe. How your souls are intertwined. I always laughed at it but seeing you two now, he was right.” You blushed and looked down before your eyes met Joe’s and he winked at you.

“I guess so. But hey, never doubt Skip. He always said that. Guess this is a nice payback.” “Guess so.”

You never thought a person could be home, but as you walk in front of the fireplace, your baby girl in your arms, you realize that it could be ━━ that it is. And you are ever so thankful you figured out what you two were.