#joe liebgott one shot

[aliciax3]

I'm just gonna leave this here...

Joe Liebgott x Female Reader

"Go on, leave me breathless."

A note:

I've never had any interest in writing (that was always my sister's thing), but my love for Joe Liebgott combined with my love for music has been causing my mind to get stirred up when I hear songs that I think would be perfect for a Liebgott romance. I've started a few stories, but this is the first one I've actually finished. And I've gone back and forth a lot about sharing it, since I am very inexperienced, and not at all confident. But if you're anything like me, you have a yearning for more Joe. So I figured that it's going to do more good out here in the universe, than sitting in my Samsung Notes. So I hope you enjoy it, and if you don't, please be gentle 🫣 I'll also put the song that inspired it at the end, if anyone is interested.

Warnings: smut, angst?, sexual vocabulary, unprotected sex... 🤷‍♀️ I'm still new to this

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

When you joined the paratroops as a medic, the last thing you were expecting was to find love. But somehow, somewhere, in the middle of the war, you managed to fall for Joe Liebgott. Although you were unsure how much it was really "finding love" when it was one-sided; Joe had never shown any romantic interest in you at all. A couple of times, after a few drinks, he became playful with you but he never made a move. Almost all of the other Easy Company boys had either hit on you, asked you to join them for a drink one-on-one, or asked you to dance at one time or another. But not Liebgott. And even still, you always wanted him to know that you were available, just in case. So aside from accepting a few dance requests here and there, you politely turned everyone down.

However, that changed after a particularly rough day on the line. Everyone decided it was a good night to have a get together, to unwind. You were approached by a man from Dog Company, who asked to escort you to the party. Tired of waiting for Liebgott to ask you, and totally beaten from the day, you gladly accepted; you just needed to have some fun.

You decided to wear your best dress; a silk navy blue with a low cut V-neckline. You couldn't even wear a bra with it, but you didn't care; it was time to let loose for once.

You arrived at the party arm-in-arm with your date, which caught the attention of almost every man in the room. Meanwhile, your eyes scanned the room for Liebgott; he was leaning on the bar with a beer in his hand. Much to your surprise, he actually turned to look at you briefly, but then carried on with sipping his beer.

"Want a drink?" Your date asked.

You turned to him and smiled, "sure."

As you approached the bar, Liebgott was still leaning on the counter. He didn't pay you any mind.

"Hi, Joe," you said.

"Hey," he quietly replied, looking into his beer.

"This is," you began to say to introduce your date when Joe cut you off.

"Whatever." He turned to walk away.

"Why are you being so rude?" You asked.

"Why are you here with him, huh?" Joe asked with an annoyed tone, getting closer to you.

"He asked if he could escort me. Not that it's any of your business," you said, crossing your arms.

Joe scoffed. "And you said yes?"

Your arms still crossed, you gave him a dirty look.

"Well, buddy," Joe said as he slapped your date's shoulder. "Have fun with the company tease," he continued as he spit on the floor beside your date.

As he walked away, you didn't know whether to scream or cry. You were so hurt that without even excusing yourself from your date, you stormed outside after Joe. Luckily, George Luz, the only one that knew your true feelings for Liebgott, was standing close by and stopped your date from going after you.

When you saw Joe enter one of the abandoned houses, you quickly followed and ran in front of him to stop him in his tracks. You shoved his shoulders. "How dare you?!" You yelled.

"What?" He asked, smirking.

"Are you serious right now? How dare you insult me like that?"

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings? Then why don't you run on back to your date? I'm sure he'll be happy to comfort you."

"Ugh! Joseph Liebgott! You are a pain in the ass! I...I wish I never fell in love with you!" You threw your hands up and turned to walk away, but Joe grabbed your hand. You quickly pulled your hand away, and gave him a dirty look. He walked closer to you.

"What did you say?" He asked, looking straight into your eyes. Your eyebrows were scrunched in a scowl, but in your head you were kicking yourself for opening your big mouth.

"Not a thing," you replied.

He began inching towards you, but with every step of his, you took a step backwards. You continued to back away from him until you reached the wall.

Joe leaned one hand on each side of your head on the wall behind you. "What did you say, doll?"

His face was so close to yours, it took everything in you to not look down at his lips. So you didn't reply; you just stared into his eyes with a scowl still on your face, trying to hide any emotion other than anger.

"You're in love with me?" He asked.

Hearing the words come out of his mouth, in his low gravely voice that you loved so much, made your stomach flutter. You couldn't hide behind your scowl anymore as your face softened, and you gently shook your head unconvincingly "no."

He moved his hands to cup your face, and said "so, you wouldn't want me to do this?" He then planted a soft kiss on your lips, and you nearly melted into the floor.

"Or this?" He asked again, followed by a gentle kiss on your neck.

You felt goosebumps cover your body, and your nipples started poking through the silk of your dress.

Joe met your face once more, noticing that your breaths had turned shallow.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asked.

His touch made you feel too weak to speak, so instead you slowly shook your head "no" once again, except this time you meant it.

"Then tell me you're in love with me," he said.

You couldn't bring yourself to say it.

"Okay, then I'll stop." He took a step backwards.

"No," you said quickly, as you grabbed his hand. "Joe, I..." Your heart was racing.

"Yes, doll?" He leaned one hand on the wall behind you again.

"I..." You still hesitated.

"Say it, and I'm yours."

Your heart was pounding out of your chest. "Joe...I think I'm in love with you..."

Joe's only response was a smirk, and pressing you back up against the wall once again. You began kissing passionately, exploring each other's mouths with your tongues. Joe ran his right hand down your silky dress and up your inner left thigh, causing goosebumps to cover your body again.

He reached the crotch of your panties, which had been soaked through by your already dripping wet pussy. "Someone's excited." He smirked again.

"Touch me, Joe." You whispered in his ear.

He wasted no time accepting the invitation, as he slipped his hand into your panties and began rubbing your wet clit. You moaned in his ear, causing him to move his hand further south. You gasped as he slipped his fingers into you with ease. He began slowly moving his fingers in and out of you, watching your face for cues to find just the right spot. Once he found it, he steadily increased his pace, listening to your breathing getting faster and faster.

Feeling you approach orgasm, he whispered in your ear. "That's it, baby. Cum for me."

His words pushed you over the edge. You let out a scream of pleasure as you released yourself all over his hand. Your entire body was quivering, and you were trying to catch your breath when he slowly slipped his fingers out of you. You jumped slightly when his hand grazed your sensitive clit.

He brought his hand up to his mouth and licked you off of his fingers. "Mmm. Damn, you taste good."

He then watched you as you slipped your own hand down to your pussy. You traced his lips with your cum covered finger, and then put your fingers to your own mouth to suck the rest off. You then kissed, and licked yourself off of his lips, and finished with a bite on his bottom lip, causing him to groan into your mouth and pick you up. You giggled as you wrapped your legs around his waist, and your arms around his neck, as he carried you to the nearest bedroom.

Once he put you down on the bed, you pulled your dress over your head and tossed it onto the floor, exposing your breasts and erect nipples. Next, you slipped your panties off, while he was standing at the end of the bed simultaneously kicking his boots off and unbuttoning his pants. Before pulling his pants down, he pulled his white tshirt over his head, exposing his dog tags leading down his bare chest. You hadn't taken your eyes off of each other. As he slowly pulled his pants down, and exposed his erect cock, you bit your bottom lip.

"Like what you see?" He asked, smirking.

You smiled and nodded "yes."

He slowly climbed onto the bed, hovering over you. "I think my view is better," he said onto your lips.

When he kissed you, you could barely kiss back through the smile you had on your face.

He ran his hands down your shoulders and to your chest, grabbing a breast in each hand. He took turns giving each nipple attention; sucking, licking, and biting.

You ran your fingers through his hair, and moaned. "I need you, Joe."

Pretending he didn't hear you so that he could make you say it again, he moved back up to your neck. "I'm sorry, what was that?" He started biting and sucking your neck, as you felt his hard cock rubbing against your thigh, making you squirm in excitement beneath him.

You grabbed the back of his head. "Joe." You said desperately.

He looked up at you and gave you a sly smile, "Yeah, doll?"

You pulled him towards you. "Please, Joe." You begged. You needed him more than you had ever needed anybody in your life; you had waited almost a year for this moment, but you didn't think you could wait a second longer.

Joe kissed your lips once before sitting back to stroke his hard cock with one hand, and spread your legs apart with the other. He climbed on top of you, leaning his weight on his left hand while he held his stiff cock in his right. He began teasing you some more by rubbing the tip of his of cock on your clit. You squirmed, which made him chuckle, but also made him finally give in. He guided his cock to your soaking wet entrance, and began slowly entering you. You gasped and moaned as you felt every inch of his bare hard cock rub against your walls.

"Fuck." He said as he bottomed out, closing his eyes and rolling his head back to try to keep composure. "You feel so good, babe."

His dog tags were dangling over you, just slightly grazing the space on your chest between your breasts. You tugged on them lightly to bring him in for a kiss. He began slowly moving his cock in and out of you, and you could no longer focus on kissing him. You let out a quiet "mmm" as you closed your eyes, and bit your lip.

Joe leaned back to get better leverage, and increased his speed a bit. You could hear his dog tags clinking against his chest with every thrust, until he swung them around to his back. As he steadily increased the speed of his thrusts, your moaning grew louder. Keeping his weight leaning on his right hand next to you, he held up your thigh with his left. Thrusting even faster now, your moans turned into words.

"Oh god, Joe..."

"You like that?"

You bit your lip again and nodded "yes."

Discovering that he was hitting the right spot, his thrusts grew faster still until all you could do was scream his name. Feeling your orgasm approaching, and sensing he was also on the edge, you gave him the ok to let go, and breathlessly said, "cum inside me, Joe."

Your words turned him on, and with a few more quick thrusts you both orgasmed together; your walls contracting around his cock as he coated your insides.

He dropped down onto your chest, still inside of you, as you both gasped for air.

"Holy shit," Joe said in between short breaths. "That was fucking incredible. You're incredible." He kissed your lips.

You ran your fingers through his now sweaty hair and smiled. "I waited so long to have you," you said.

"And was I as good as you hoped I would be?" He winked.

You chuckled. "Even better than I hoped."

He nodded and said, "Nice."

You smiled as you rolled your eyes and playfully hit him on the arm for being so smug. He moved to lie down beside you, his arm wrapped around you.

"You know, I never meant to be a tease to the other guys. It's just...you're the only one I ever wanted. I was waiting for you to want me back," you told him.

"I only called you a tease because I was jealous. I've always wanted you, y/n."

"Then why didn't you do anything about it?"

"Doll, almost every guy here is after you all the time. I never thought you'd choose me. But I'm damn glad you did," he said, lightly tapping your nose with his finger.

You smiled, but it quickly vanished when reality hit. "Well now I wish I blurted my feelings out sooner. We've wasted so much time..."

"Y/n, even if we only had right now, I'd still be happy. It's better than never having you at all," Joe replied.

A faint smile returned to your face.

"Besides," Joe continued, "now we can make up for lost time." He smirked as he climbed on top of you again. He began tickling you, and kissing you all over, causing you to giggle uncontrollably until his lips met yours again. You then made love for the second time that night, before falling asleep in each other's arms for the first time, but definitely not the last.

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

Inspired by:

Lyrics:

"Go on, go on, leave me breathless. Come on (come on)

The daylight's fading slowly, but time with you is standing still. I'm waiting for you only. The slightest touch and I feel weak.

I cannot lie, from you I cannot hide. And I'm losing the will to try. Can't hide it (can't hide it). Can't fight it (can't fight it).

So go on, go on. Come on, leave me breathless. Tempt me, tease me. Until I can't deny this loving feeling. Make me long for your kiss.

Go on (go on), go on (go on). Yeah, come on, yeah

And if there's no tomorrow, and all we have is here and now. I'm happy just to have you. You're all the love I need somehow. It's like a dream, although I'm not asleep. And I never want to wake up. Don't lose it (don't lose it). Don't leave it (don't leave it).

So go on, go on. Come on, leave me breathless. Tempt me, tease me. Until I can't deny this loving feeling. Make me long for your kiss.

Go on, go on. Yeah, come on (come on).

And I can't lie, from you I cannot hide. And I've lost my will to try. Can't hide it (can't hide it). Can't fight it (can't fight it).

So go on (go on), go on (go on). Come on, leave me breathless. Tempt me, tease me. Until I can't deny this loving feeling. Make me long for your kiss.

Go on (go on), go on (go on). Come on, leave me breathless (leave me breathless)..."

[ww2yaoi]

Chuck Grant, Joe Liebgott, and David Webster in 1x08 The Last Patrol

[pastlivesandpurplepuppets]

We started moving forward in snow nearly two feet deep. A soldier’s best friend is cover and we had none. It was a strange feeling of vulnerability. But the German garrison must have been apprehensive about our approach. They lobbed some 88s our way, not exploding shells but armor-piercing, and all were too long or too short. Other resistance was light, almost as if they were giving in to the inevitable. We started running to find cover behind fences and buildings. I looked up from behind a wall. A Belgian farmer was standing in the window of a farmhouse, frantically waving and pointing to the cellar of the house. He held up two fingers and pointed down. A pair of Germans were downstairs. A handful of us moved forward. I opened the back door and could see the stairs to the basement. “Comeinzeout!” I yelled. No response. I threw a grenade down. Boom. A dog scurried upstairs. I yelled again. Again, no response. I opened fire with a tommy gun as I started down the stairs and finally heard some German words. Finally, two officers slunk up the stairs, one waving a white handkerchief. I don’t remember who interrogated them, but they said they were told they were supposed to fight to the last man or a German 88 unit was going to level the town, including them. We took sixty-five prisoners that day and didn’t lose a man. Late in the day, the two officers were being held in a village barn. Sgt. Earl Hale and a rifleman, Joe Liebgott, were guarding them. One of the prisoners sprang on Hale, slitting his throat. Liebgott killed both. Somehow, Hale survived.

~ Don Malarkey

[indigo-graves]

This Dance | Joe Liebgott

It wasn’t often that the bulk of Easy Company had privileges on a weekend. Evelyn convinced herself it was absolutely because she had threatened all of the men within an inch of their life. If she had to spend one more weekend at camp, she would surely short circuit. So when they made it through the end of training on Friday, she was able to let out what felt like a breath she had been holding all week. 

When she exited her separate living quarters, several of the company’s other members were waiting for her. Talbert let out a whistle, earning himself a smack in the back of the head from Toye. Evelyn rolled her eyes in response, giving Toye a smile of approval. 

“Ready, darlin’?” Bull Randleman, her dearest friend, questioned. She nodded. Briefly, her eyes locked with Liebgott, who was biting back a smirk, quickly distracting himself with the cigarette he could put between his lips.

“Ready,” she said, smoothing her skirt decisively and turning on her heel. She had hoped they would mistake the blush rising in her cheeks as rouge. 

Three drinks in, the blush in her cheeks was permanent. The bar they had found themselves comfortable in was hot. The Georgia heat mingled with the warmth of too many bodies in a small venue. The wafting clouds of smoke from cigarettes only thickened the air. She was thankful to sit lower than the rest of them in her seat due to her petite stature, most of it traveled over her head. 

“Fifty bucks says I get the first Kraut kill when we hit Europe,” Guarnere spoke confidently. His accent only seemed to get thicker with each beer he downed. 

“Bullshit,” Toye challenged, slammed a hand down on the table, causing all of their drinks to rattle. Chuckles echoed in response. 

“Yeah?” Guarnere grinned, “you gonna get to ‘em before me?” 

“There’s not a doubt,” Toye lit a cigarette casually. “One gust of wind and your ass will end up in the middle of the Atlantic while I’m on Hitler’s doorstep.” He jabbed at the smaller man. The table roared with laughter and Guarnere chuckled through gritted teeth. 

“I’ll take both your money and take your broads out to dinner with it,” Luz spoke confidently, throwing his hat in the ring. 

“Whatdya say we get a dance in while these boys get out their measuring tape?” Bull nudged Evelyn with a smile. She chuckled, threw back the rest of her drink, and got to her feet. 

As the next song started to play on the jukebox, the two of them found space in the section of the room that was being used by a few other soldiers and their female partners. She felt Bull pull her close, surprised that he was so keen on dancing. 

When Liebgott surveyed the room, he felt a drop in his guts. Through the haze of cigarette smoke and crowd of patrons, he watched as Evelyn moved gracefully in the arms of Bull Randleman. He watched Bull’s hand, splayed at the small of her back, and remembered what it felt like the first time she let him touch her. He thought about the way her breath tickled his ear and neck when he held her that close. The things she had told him. Even more, the noises he had drawn out of her when they were flush against one another in that same way. 

He watched her rhythm, knowing it so intimately himself. The way he held those same hips as he guided her into that same rhythm in their most passionate moments. He thought about what it sounded like when she stifled herself, bit at her lips, his shoulder, the pillow, in attempts to keep their dance so secret. And here, he had to sit back and watch as she so publicly danced with someone else. 

“Liebgott,” there was an elbow in his lower ribs. 

He turned to Talbert, realizing the cigarette in his hand had burned down to a nub in neglect. Talbert furrowed a brow but asked now questions. Liebgott got to his feet and excused himself from the table, leaving his fourth beer nearly untouched behind him. 

When the song ended, Bull let go of her waist and thanked her for the dance. She scrunched her nose with a smile at him. He tried to escort her back to their table, stating that surely some of their other company members would want a chance to dance with her. She provided him with a kind excuse, letting him know she was going to get some air and she’d be right back. Only twice did she have to argue that she would be just outside the door, where she had seen both Winters and Nixon standing. He agreed, only content when knowing she had chaperones. Rolling her eyes at the endearing concern, she navigated the compact crowd of people toward the door. 

Anyone in their sober mind would have clearly observed the level of intent she had seen in Liebgott’s stare for the majority of her dance with Bull. There was an anger that had ignited in her that made it difficult to focus on Bull in those moments. Liebgott had made her a lot of promises, many of them in the throws of passion, that she had not taken with more than a grain of salt. But when she made him promise to keep the extent to which they had become acquainted to himself, she was sure he understood the severity of the matter. 

Liebgott stood outside of the bar, his back resting against the building next door at the mouth of an alley. He knew he could only get away with a few minutes away from the company. Someone would come shouting for him before too long. 

He was surprised when he saw Evelyn exit the bar with a relieved sigh. She nodded to Winters and Nixon, who were standing just to the right of the entrance, enjoying the much less congested air. They addressed her in kind, Nixon held up a glass toward her with a small smile. A less raw version of himself would not have had the intrusive image of himself taking a set of brass knuckles to Nixon’s straight, white, Yale-boy grin. A better version of himself, maybe. 

When Evelyn’s eyes connected with his, her smile fell. The hard line that set along her lips let him know that whatever it was that she was going to share with him, it was not going to provide any solace to his bruised ego. 

“You,” she gritted her teeth as she got closer to him. She glanced over her shoulder to assure herself that there were no interested ears. “You have got to get it together, Joe.” Liebgott bit the inside of his cheek at the sound of his name on her lips. He had only heard it when it bubbled up from deep in her chest in her most vulnerable, passionate moments. God damn, she was so fucking beautiful. 

“What?” He was genuinely confused. How was it that he was getting in trouble for her dancing with Bull? 

“You,” she shoved his shoulder. It was then that he smelled the liquor on her breath. She had been close enough to him that he had also caught the sweetness of her perfume. Something in him ached. “Looking at me like that.” 

He chuckled a little at her. How threatening she was, how powerful. But he knew her soft edges. He knew those vulnerable moments. He knew her fear. He had swallowed it whole for her with the slip of her tongue. He knew her. 

“Looking at you like what?” He asked. His voice teased her in a way that drew goosebumps to the surface of her skin. He stepped forward, daring her to close the distance between them. Her eyes fluttered in response, her tongue tied. She did not respond. He smiled slyly, not able to help the shift between them. This was his place. Standing before her, teasing her, flustering her. Did Bull fucking Randleman do that? 

“Don’t do that to me,” she snapped out of her daze. She steeled herself, squared her shoulders, put a step of distance between their bodies. The haze of the moment passed and she remembered just how public a venue he had started this dance in. 

“Do what?” Those coy responses were what got Evelyn into this mess in the first place. He wanted her to get drunk on him. Addicted to him. 

“If you get us caught, you know what will happen,” she threatened. Joe nodded in response. There were no playful replies to bite back when the reality of what they had gotten themselves into was brought up. She had told him the conditions of her presence with the company. Should anyone catch wind of anything unsavory, she was done. 

She knew he understood how much her career meant to her. She knew he respected it. Respected her. He, however, knew that maybe his deepest fear was that he did not know if he would ever see her again. And that reality was even more frightening than what he had waiting for him on the other side of the ocean. 

Joe nodded, clenching his jaw. They stood at the mouth of that alley, wordlessly standing in the mud of their own making. She reached over, the softness of her fingers against his, caused him to jerk his head up in response, looking over her shoulder at the officers just ten feet from them. She boldly stroked the inside of his palm with her delicate fingers. The same way she did when they laid lazily in her bed under the cover of darkness, sweaty, glowing, and drunk on one another. 

“Don’t make this end before it has to,” she squeezed his hand. “Please.” 

Joe met her eyes. The dimensions of light and dark in them were picked up by the streetlamp. He wanted desperately to wrap his arms around her, tighter than Bull or any man could ever fucking hold her. He wanted to kiss her, taste every unsaid word on her lips. To touch her in ways that would leave her gasping, begging, crying out for more of him. He wanted to tell her that his days started and ended with her. Every single one of them since the moment his mouth tasted hers.

“Evie!” There was a shout from behind them. She pulled away from him with a jolt, her curtain of dark hair whipped around her shoulders. 

“You’ve got a line of men in here wondering when they’re getting their dance!” Nixon called, speaking for the masses he was gesturing to inside the building. 

“Yes, sir!” She responded, smiling brightly. She turned to Joe briefly. He swallowed the ball of fire making its way up from his belly. ‘Be good,’ she mouthed at him. She turned on her heel, the sweet smell of her perfume wafting behind her as she made her way back to the bar. Joe let out an exasperated sigh and reached into his pocket for a cigarette. 

[webgottism]

lieb beckoning web to the showers in TLP and then web going ‘i guess i don’t really need a shower’…. which could mean nothing. of course.

[serendipitysae]

Querencia ( Joseph D. Liebgott x Reader )

querencia/ kɛˈrɛnθɪə,Spanish keˈrenθja,keˈrensja/

noun ; querencia; plural noun: querencias

Sanctuary.

( POST WAR !!! fluff and maybe a smidge of angst ?)

01.00 AM. 

19th July, 1946, Yuma, California. 

1 cup of self raising flour, 1 cup of granulated sugar, equal parts. Wisk together in a bowl, before adding 1 large egg. 

Feel free to stir together using your hands. 

In a pan, arrange the canned-peach slices, before half of the reserved peach juice on top. After this, apply the doe on top of the peaches. Then drizzle a ½ cup of melted butter. 

Bake in a preheated oven for forty five minutes until golden brown, serve with cold ice cream and rest of the peach juice. Easy peasy ! 

. 

Yeah right. 

You sighed irritatedly, eyebrows knit together as you crouched before the oven, one hand on the oven latch, the other holding an oven mitten. You had been sitting there for at least an hour and a half. 

You were wearing one of Joe’s shirts, over your nightgown. You pursed your lips together, scowling at the peach cobbler in the oven, which wasn’t even browning. “Come on..” You murmured quietly. You were so caught up in the baking that you hadn’t noticed the door unlocking. 

That was until you heard the soft clang of Joe’s cab car keys being thrown onto the table. “Shit-!” 

You looked over, confused as you looked up to Joseph Liebgott, your boyfriend. He stared down at you, his surprise slowly morphing into a small smile. “Wasn’t expecting you to be awake, Doll.” 

You giggled at that, an excited smile gracing your features as you stood up and jogged to him. A warmth spread through your body as you held him close, pulling him down to litter his face with kisses. “Lots of customers ?” You asked, between kisses. His lopsided grin surfaced, chuckling as he leaned into the kiss. “ Mhm, drove ‘round half the fuckin’ city swear to god.” 

“The real question is,” He began, hand trailing down to the curve of your waist. “ What are you doing up ?” He jokingly poked at your side, earning a small sigh and downwards turn at your lips. “I wanted to try the recipe for Peach Cobbler.. kind of a lost cause though.” 

A hoarse, tired chuckle left his lips, shaking his head as he pressed a kiss to your head. “What’s the occasion ?” 

You tensed up a little, clearing your throat as you looked to the oven. Your lips parted, taking a soft inhale before speaking. “ Next saturday, you know .. that reunion in indianapolis ?” 

Joe didn’t look at you, his lips pressing into a thin line as he looked to the wall. You softly moved your hand up to his cheek, gently rubbing it with the pad of your thumb. “ It’s been a year since we last saw them .. and I know Webster came to visit us last february but you know that doesn’t count.” 

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to bring it up after his long shift, but he asked, and you had no intention of hiding things from him. 

You caught on on how his jaw clenched, eyes trained on the tiles of the kitchen wall. You would have preferred screeching of fingernails on chalk than the deafening silence. After several moments of this, he licked his lips, voice quiet. 

“I just..” 

You looked up to him. 

“I just can’t do it, Doll..” 

You felt your heart clench. He didn’t sound hurt, he didn’t sound mad or anything. He just sounded so discouraged. The way his words died on his tongue, how he couldn’t meet your eyes. 

“Oh Joe..”

You cooed, your hand moving up to his hair as you tugged him into a warm embrace. It didn’t take long for him to melt into your glow. His arms sneaked around your waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck. He didn’t cry, Liebgott rarely cried. He just savored the moment. The smell of your hair, as well as the light scent of artificial peach and flour. One hand moved to cradle your head, as his eyes closed. The gentle tugging at the roots of his hair, the soft tracings you drew on his back, it was his sanctuary. 

“My darling, we don’t have to do anything. We don’t, we can just rest.” You’d say, your voice muffled by the material of his shirt. He didn’t really respond, just a quiet hum resonating through his body. 

The two of you stood there for several minutes, until you reluctantly pulled away. You looked up at him, the soft smile on your lips never faltering as you intertwined your hands. “ Let’s get you some sleep, hm ?” 

He nodded. 

“The rocket’s empty- I’ll try the atom load of this ray gun.” You read, your voice saccharine and honey like as you read of the comic book strip. Both of your backs were pressed against the wall, Joseph’s arm around your shoulders as you read to him. His head was resting on yours, half-lidded eyes following the comic drawings as you read. 

It only took fifteen minutes before the book was tucked away in a drawer, the lights off and blanket pulled over you two. Joe lay behind you, his body pressed up to yours with his arms holding you around the torso. 

“Y/N ?” He interrupted the silence, and you hummed quietly, eyes still closed. 

“ I just .. well..” 

You shifted slightly, turning to face him. One hand moved to rest on his cheekbone, eyes opening slightly. 

“If you want to go to the reunion, you should.” Your eyebrows knit together, slowly adjusting to the light as you spotted his warm eyes. 

“What ?” 

He nodded, shuffling closer to you. “I don’t know if I’m ready to see any of those bucks again.. But, they were your team too.” You looked at him with a small, small smile as you nodded. “But- Joe, you know you don’t have to-” 

“I know.” 

You shut up, thumb tracing patterns against his jaw. He continued speaking. 

“But.. Well, if you need a ride to Indianapolis, I’ll be there. ” 

Your lip curled up into a teasing smile. “You’re saying I'll get a free cab ride ?”

“Hey, I ain’t saying anything about it being free, I just said if you need a ride.” He countered, gently squeezing your side with a chuckle. Your laughter is harmonious to him, as he closes his eyes and smiles. 

Your laughter died down, your chest fluttering. “Hey..” You’d say, quietly. You moved closer, pressing a warm kiss to his lips. Sure, Joe was tired, but he kissed you back, with as much love and eagerness as he always did. You mumbled a soft “thank you.” to his lips. 

He just shook his head, and tugged you closer to him, the sound of traffic rumbling from the balcony of your apartment.

( THIS ISN'T PROOF READ SO PLAY NICE !!! I love domestic joe : ( he's my baby boy. It's post-war, if it wasn't clear enough- uh yeah hope you guys enjoy xoxo !!!!!!)

[rogue-durin-16]

Fic authors self-rec! ✨ When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you’ve written, then pass on to at least five other writers 💗

Okay I had to dig deep into my masterlists for this damn. In no particular order:

Out Of Trouble (George Weasley x Slytherin!Reader)

Summary: After a Quidditch match, both George and Y/n sneaked out to grab a drink at the Three Broomsticks with their respective teammates. The tension between the two groups might end up causing more trouble than imagined.

Probably two of my writing go-to's are dynamic dialogue and arguments/fights. This is not my best fic but definitely one of the few I wrote in one go and I'm proud of that.

Sunglasses And Lipstick Stains (Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader)

Summary: after having his heart torn in half at Tina's party, Steve finds comfort in the most unexpected person. Who would have guessed he would develop such a strong connection with someone he's barely spoken to?

I don't even remember how I came up with this idea. Although I LOVE Steve, writing him like I want to is sooo difficult, but I feel like I managed in this fic.

Brains Over Brawn (Eddie Munson x Chrissy Cunningham)

Summary: using herself as bait in order to protect Max, Chrissy is dropped at the Creel's residence, with Dustin and Eddie as her guardians. Unfortunately, someone tips off Jason after spotting Dustin outside the murder house.

Eddissy became an obsession fr so I'm biased but also it's the first time I actually wrote for an official ship. I loved it.

See You Around (George Luz x Reader)

Summary: for most of Easy Company, war took away more than it gave. Pieces of them stayed buried six feet under in foreign land while they were forced to carry on with their lives. George Luz and Y/n Y/I/n, who took time for granted, were no strangers to this tragic fate.

Love writing angst. Love writing for Luz. Love love love skipping forward and backwards in time. This was an easy write for sure.

Handle The Situation (Joe Liebgott x Reader)

Request: Can I request an angsty lieb x reader fic in which the reader pushes alley away from the potato masher at crossroads and it hits her instead and like joe is literally dying inside cuz they had been fighting prior to that?

As previously stipulated, I love writing angst, fights and dynamic dialogue, which inevitably translates to Joe Liebgott. Also I adore writing requests.

[luminouslywriting]

Bob headcannon being closed in a cabinet with them and ur both getting hot

Hello!! So sorry this has taken FOREVER!! I got promoted at work and have been working more haha! Thats the reason for my inactivity and I’m sorry :( but hopefully I’ll be able to get out a few requests this week! Happy 4th of July to everyone who celebrates! Cut for length, paragraph form, spice obviously included:

Dick Winters: Does it come as a surprise to anyone that this man is bashful about the entire thing? Like he’s very acutely aware of his own mortality at the moment but he’s not going to act on anything and put himself in a situation where he’s making decisions for the both of you. Bestie, you’re gonna have to make the first move.

Lewis Nixon: I can’t explain why but it’s giving thirteen year old boy at his first boy-girl party. This man is thrilled about the situation and definitely cracks a few jokes about the situation before making a move. It’s a hurried and in the dark makeout session that ends in rumpled clothing and swollen lips for sure. And he’s smug as a bug when he gets out of there too.

Ronald Speirs: Incredibly pleased about the entire situation anyway and is definitely going to make the most of the moment. He's unabashedly getting real (consensually) handsy in that closet with you. And this may or may not become a regular thing between the two of you.

Buck Compton: Only slightly bashful? He didn't mean to end up in this situation and he only feels slightly bad about getting hot in the circumstances. But if the two of you start making out, this man is NOT complaining and is going to probably assume you two are together after that.

Carwood Lipton: A bashful mess of a man who's just trying to get out of this situation as quickly as possible as he apologizes to you because it's such a small space and surely you're aware of his problem now. After being in said space though....if you kiss him, he's definitely emboldened and ready to be with you haha.

Joe Liebgott: All too pleased to be in the situation to begin with. He's probably getting into some dirty talk and acting as though YOU'RE the one who set the entire thing up. Get a little handsy and he becomes a whimpering mess of swears and heavy breathing though haha.

Donald Malarkey: Unassuming and also kinda bashful? He just doesn't want things to get weird between the two of you but he also can't stop talking and so if you shut him up with a kiss, I guarantee he'll simp for you forever.

Eugene Roe: Mumbling to himself about how this is NOT how he thought today was going to go. Also delightfully embarrassed about the fact that he's getting turned on at a moment like this with you. But also...he just shoots his shot? And if he so happens to show you just how talented he is with his hands, it's a win-win situation haha.

Bill Guarnere: Grumbling about how he's gonna kill whoever locked the two of you in here. But the minute he shuts up and actually pays attention to the non-verbal cues, he's in heaven with the way you two are caressing one another and just having a drop-dead amazing makeout sesh.

Joe Toye: Annoyed af at himself and at the situation. Might be a little rude at first, but only because he's just really trying to keep his thoughts to himself and his desires. Get handsy and let him know it's okay to touch you too—he'll be like a kid in a candy store haha.

George Luz: The two of you are hiding for pulling a prank and naturally, you choose the bahamas of hiding places (iykyk). And what starts as you two trying to be quiet then turns into trying to REALLY keep quiet as the two of you are pleasuring one another and trying not to get caught.

[mrseasycompany]

Hidden Feelings - Joe Liebgott one shot

Warnings: bad writing bc this is my first real attempt, I thought it would be easy but writing is goddamn difficult?! I have all these ideas in my head but acting putting them to words turns out to be incredibly difficult 🫠 So feedback is very much wanted and welcome! - also people getting hurt, bad attempt at angsty writing

Summary: Joe doesn’t want to admit his feelings for you and watches you be with one of his friends, but when you get hurt he confesses his feelings

It was early June, and the easy company men were all waiting for orders to finally come down. The days had started to blur together, a strange limbo of drills, checking gear, trying to keep the fear and anticipation from getting the best of them. They’d been told they’d be jumping into Normandy any day now, and each night, they went to sleep wondering if tomorrow would be it. Liebgott had taken to sleeping with his boots half-laced, the nervous energy spilling into everything he did. He tried to put up a brave face, as did everyone else, but at night time the reality would hit him again and it would mean a lot of sleepless hours for him.

The others in his little friendgroup all had ways of coping too. Luz and Muck made their wisecracks, Malarkey and Penkala tried to keep spirits high, Bill kept himself busy and Buck was always somewhere with a cigarette between his fingers, watching the sky with that half-calm, half-worried look. But y/n… Joe didn’t know how she kept so calm. She had a way of settling into the silence, of watching everyone else with a steady gaze, the kind that never wavered, as if she’d long ago decided that whatever happened would happen, and there was no point in letting it scare her.

She didn’t talk much about what she felt. Not even to Joe. Not that she didn’t want to, because she did, but she felt like she shouldn‘t. She was the only woman in their battalion; she’d had to work twice as hard just to prove she could belong. She’d fought tooth and nail to get them to see her as a soldier first, not some girl tagging along, and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing that respect. It was hard enough as it was, fighting in a man’s world, where every action, every look, every stray touch was a potential rumor waiting to catch fire.

Instead, she’d go off with Talbert, her laugh echoing down the line, that warm, quiet laugh that Joe had only ever heard her give to Tab. It was enough to make his stomach twist, to feel like his blood was boiling inside him every time he saw them together. He’d see her sitting next to Talbert, that easy, open smile on her face, and Talbert would be looking at her like she was some kind of miracle. Joe hated it more than he’d ever admit, hated how she could lean into Tab, laughing as if they weren’t days from getting thrown into god-knows-what in France, as if this whole damned war didn’t matter as long as they had each other. He’d told himself, more times than he could count, that he didn’t care, that it wasn’t his business, that it didn’t matter. But he knew better. He’d always known better.

He wasn’t sure why she’d gone for Tab in the first place. They were close, sure, but it was different. Joe and y/n had something different, something deeper, something that lived in all the silent looks, the half-smiles, the way she’d reach out and catch his shoulder whenever he tried to brush off some wound he was hiding. They never talked about it, and it made no sense, this thing between them, but it was there, and he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He had ruined that himself. She had tried to get close to him at Toccoa, and they were good friends, but when she tried to kiss him one time during a party in a pub he’d refused her. Not that he didn’t want her, he did, he just didn’t want to admit that to himself. Feelings would make his life more complicated than it already was, and he didn’t want to care too much for someone who could die any day now.

However, every time he saw her with Talbert, his heart pounded with this twisted, fierce jealousy that felt almost wrong, like it wasn’t something he had the right to feel.

But how could he tell her that?

It would be stupid, reckless, and worse, selfish. They were soldiers. Tab and him were friends. They were here for the same reason as everyone else, and he couldn’t let his feelings get in the way, couldn’t give them voice when it might break the whole thing apart. So, he buried it, again and again, telling himself that it didn’t matter, that she was free to do what she wanted, be with who she wanted.

And yet, here he was, pacing around camp in the early morning, the sky just beginning to lighten, when he saw her - y/n, standing alone near the edge of the tents, her hands shoved deep in her pockets. She looked cold, lost in thought, and for once, Talbert was nowhere around. He almost turned back, almost left her to her own quiet solitude. But he didn’t. His feet kept moving, like they were carrying him forward on instinct.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked as he came up beside her, shoving his hands into his own pockets to mirror her.

She looked up, eyes flicking over his face, her expression softening just a little. “Guess not.” Her voice was quiet, and she looked away, toward the fields beyond. “Feels strange, doesn’t it? This waiting.”

“Yeah,” he said, swallowing. “It does.”

A long silence fell between them, comfortable but heavy, thick with everything they couldn’t say. He thought about asking her, right then, if Talbert meant something to her, if maybe she’d ever looked at Joe the way she looked at Talb. But he knew that if he asked, it’d all come spilling out—the jealousy, the stupid ache he’d tried to ignore, the twisted feelings he knew had no place here, not now. He catched her looking at him a little too long, and she diverted her gaze to the sky until he spoke again.

“I saw you with Floyd last night. He seemed happy.”

She glanced at him, her eyes narrowing slightly, as if she’d caught something in his voice he hadn’t meant to let slip. “Yeah… he’s been good to me. It’s nice, having someone to talk to. Someone who gets it.”

Joe’s jaw tightened. He tried to force a smile, tried to hide the burn that clawed at his chest. “I get it too, you know,” he said, his voice a little harder than he intended. He saw her face soften, the barest hint of a frown creasing her brow.

“Do you?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, but her eyes were searching his face, her gaze intense, as if she was waiting for him to say something real, something he’d buried too deep to reach.

He wanted to tell her that he did, that he understood her better than anyone else ever could, that he’d felt more for her than he’d ever dared admit. But the words wouldn’t come. They stuck in his throat, thick and painful, tangled with the fear that if he said them, everything would shatter. The mission, the friendship they’d built, the delicate thread they’d stretched between them.

So he just nodded, glancing away. “I do, y/n, I used to get you more than anyone ever did”, he said, his voice low and rough. And then, softer, “More than you know.”

She took a step closer, placing her hand on his cheeck, and he froze, feeling the warmth of her touch. “You distanced yourself from me, remember? Not the other way around” she murmured, a sad, knowing smile on her lips.

He swallowed, his chest tightening as he looked down at her. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he’d kept hidden, but he knew he couldn’t. Not here. Not with Normandy looming over them like a shadow, ready to claim them all. They were living on borrowed time, and some things were better left unsaid.

The silence stretched between them again, heavy and fragile. Finally, she sighed, stepping back. “You should get some sleep, Joe.”

He nodded, the words dying on his tongue, and turned back to the camp, walking away from her, hating himself a little more with each step.

~

They were in the thick woods somewhere outside Eindhoven, trudging through underbrush, their boots sinking into wet mud with every step. Y/n walked a few steps ahead of Joe, while Luz and Malarkey covered the rear, trading quiet jokes that barely carried over the crackle of leaves. Joe kept his eyes forward, watching her as she navigated the uneven terrain. He was still nursing the awkwardness from that night before Normandy—the things left unsaid, the way he’d walked away, the way he’d regretted it every day since.

But none of that mattered now, not when they were out here, deep in hostile territory. He wasn’t supposed to worry about anything except keeping everyone safe. They all knew that. And yet, when y/n looked back to check on him, her gaze lingering just a little too long, he couldn’t ignore that same ache tightening his chest.

They continued through the woods until a sudden crack split the air—a gunshot, distant but unmistakable. “Did you guys hear that?” Malarkey asked quietly.

Everyone froze, tense, scanning the trees for any movement. Y/n’s hand went instinctively to her rifle, her eyes sharp, searching. Joe moved closer to her without thinking, his hand coming up to gesture for her to keep low. For a moment, their eyes met, and he saw the fear there, buried under her determination.

Then, a shout—a patrol up ahead. German voices, coming closer.

They all ducked down, scrambling for cover behind a fallen tree. Joe’s heart hammered as he crouched next to y/n, his fingers tight on his rifle. Luz and Malarkey were barely a few feet away, tense and waiting.

Joe glanced at her. Her face was pale, her lips pressed into a thin line, but her eyes were steady. He could see her calculating the next move, the way her mind worked through each possibility, each risk. It was a side of her he respected, admired even, and he felt a pang of guilt, remembering the jealousy he’d harbored over Talbert, the way he’d let it come between them.

The Germans moved on, their voices fading, and Joe let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Slowly, they stood, exchanging relieved looks. Luz muttered a few choice words under his breath, making y/n snicker despite herself, and the tension eased just a little.

But the near-miss lingered with Joe. He found himself walking closer to her, his shoulders brushing hers now and then, and for once, she didn’t pull away. He didn’t know why, but it was enough to let him hope things could get better between them again.

~

Over the next few weeks, Joe and y/n found themselves thrown together again. They’d stand watch side by side, swap stories during rare quiet nights, linger over half-finished cigarettes in silence. It felt easy, the way it had before everything got complicated, and for a little while, Joe let himself believe things could go back to how they’d been.

One night, they were sitting on a stone wall outside a deserted farmhouse, keeping watch while the others caught a few hours of sleep. The moon was bright, casting a soft glow over the fields, and for a moment, it felt almost peaceful.

“How are Tab and you? Haven’t heard from him in a while” Liebgott asked while he put a cigarette between his lips to light it.

“Floyd and I… we broke things off,” she said, her voice breaking the quiet. Joe looked at her, surprised, and saw the faintest hint of sadness in her eyes.

“Oh,” he said, not sure what to say. “I’m sorry.”

She gave him a small, rueful smile, shaking her head. “No need to be. It’s better this way. We’re still friends.”

He wanted to ask why—he’d seen her and Talbert together enough to know they’d shared something real, even if he hated admitting it. But before he could, she looked away, her gaze fixed on the distant horizon, and he knew she didn’t want him to press.

It had been weeks before, back in the tents, when she’d finally confronted Talbert. They’d been talking, laughing even, when she felt the weight of it settle in her chest—the knowledge that something between them had shifted, that whatever they’d had was fading, unraveling.

“I think… maybe we’re trying to make this into something it’s not,” she’d said, her voice soft but steady.

Talbert looked at her, his expression pensive. “Maybe,” he agreed, running a hand through his hair. There was no bitterness there, no anger, just an odd kind of resignation. “We’re both looking for something to hold onto, and maybe we thought we could find it in each other.”

She nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and regret. “It’s hard to be anything, to be anyone, in a place like this. Things don’t… stick. You know?”

He gave a low chuckle, nodding. “Believe me, I know. But…” He hesitated, his gaze flicking over her face, searching for something. “I think there’s more to it than that. You and me… we’re better as friends, y/n.”

She opened her mouth to argue, to tell him that she’d tried, that she wanted it to work. But his next words cut her off.

“Besides, you’ve always had eyes for Liebgott. Even if you don’t want to admit it.”

The shock of his words settled over her, and she could only stare at him, speechless. Talbert’s face softened, the barest hint of a smile on his lips.

“It’s okay,” he added, his tone gentle. “Sometimes you just know. I’ll keep your secret.”

---

The night after that conversation, she had kept her distance from Joe, unsure of what to do with the realization that Talbert’s words had stirred in her. But it didn’t seem to matter, not when Joe was always there, his quiet steadiness a comfort she hadn’t realized she needed.

It was a few days later, the whole group huddled around a small fire, trying to keep warm in the evening chill. Luz was telling some outrageous story, Malarkey and Buck throwing in commentary, everyone laughing louder than they had in weeks. Y/n was laughing too, caught up in the warmth of it, the camaraderie that had become so rare out here.

"So there I was," Luz said, his voice low and conspiratorial, "crouched under a table in the back of this bar in London, and I’m thinking, Luz, my man, you’re as good as dead."

Buck rolled his eyes. "Oh, here we go again."

"No, no, seriously!" Luz insisted, his eyes wide with mock horror. "The bartender's waving a broom at me like I’m some kind of wild animal. I’m dodging left, dodging right, trying to keep my head down—"

"And let me guess," Malarkey interjected, a smirk tugging at his lips, "you were hiding from some poor girl you promised the world to?"

Luz grinned, shrugging. "You say ‘promised,’ I say ‘gave a slight suggestion of affection.’ There’s a difference, Malarkey."

Y/n snorted, shaking her head. “So let me get this straight,” she said, eyebrows raised. “You're saying this bartenderjust randomly decided to chase you out of his bar, for no good reason? I’m not buying it.”

Luz put a hand to his chest, looking hurt. "Y/n, when have I ever lied to you?"

Buck laughed, giving her a pat on the shoulder. "Better question: when hasn’t he?" He asked.

The conversation continued after that, but y/n zoned out a little. And in an attempt to get her back to the conversation, George made a comment. “How’s it going with you, y/n? Moved on from Floyd yet?” It was a lighthearted jab, but it hit harder than she expected, and suddenly, the laughter felt too sharp, too close. She stood, muttering something about needing air, and walked off into the night, hugging her arms around herself.

Joe saw her leave, his brow furrowing as he watched her silhouette disappear. Without thinking, he got up, following her into the darkness. “I didn’t mean to-“ George said sadly, but Buck comforted him, saying that she’d been a bit off all day.

Liebgott found her a few yards from the fire, her back turned to him, shoulders hunched. She didn’t look up as he approached, but she didn’t pull away, either.

“Y/n,” he said quietly, reaching out to touch her shoulder. She tensed, but didn’t move. “Hey, what’s going on?”

She shook her head, her voice choked. “I’m fine. It’s just… everything. I guess it got to me.”

He nodded, stepping closer, his hand sliding down to hold hers. She let him, and for a moment, they stood there in silence, the night settling around them like a blanket.

“Floyd?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

She gave a bitter laugh. “I don’t even know what to feel about him anymore. We… we’re done, but…” Her voice trailed off, and she looked up at him, her eyes shining with something raw and unspoken.

“But it’s not about Talbert, is it?” he asked, the words falling out before he could stop them. He felt her hand tighten in his, felt her pulse beneath his fingers, fast and uncertain.

She didn’t answer, just stared at him, her expression conflicted, a thousand emotions passing over her face. And in that moment, Joe knew—knew the truth he’d been running from, the truth he’d tried to bury. “No, it’s not” y/n sighed, shifting her head to look up at him. The way she looked at him made clear what she wanted to say. That it was him. But he kept quiet. she wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen someone put up as many walls as he did. There was something haunted in him, something broken that he never let anyone touch, least of all her. But she felt it, whenever they were alone, that subtle push and pull, that tension between them that no words seemed to reach. It felt like a thread, stretching between them, invisible yet stronger than steel, and every day it grew tighter, coiled with words unsaid, touches unmade, confessions swallowed and buried deep. “Why can’t you just admit how you feel. I know I’m not imagining what’s going on between us” she frowned.

They’d been questioned about their dynamic before, especially by Muck and Luz, who were always looking for a good laugh. Joe’d rolled his eyes, snorted, even. Just friends, he’d say, putting enough irony into it to make the others laugh. Y/n would brush it off too, put on that easy smile and give as good as she got, but inside she felt a knot tighten in her chest every time they asked. Just friends. That was the only answer that made any sense. They couldn't afford anything more—not here, not now, not with war pressing in on them from every side. And maybe not ever.

Liebgott swallowed and looked at her, he was at a complete loss of words. “I- y/n… I can’t… we can’t…”

Y/n let go of his hand and sighed softly. “You know what? Forget that I said anything. I’m gonna try to get some sleep” she mumbled before walking off.

~

The night was dark, the kind of blackness that swallowed every trace of light. In some cruel twist of faith, Liebgott and y/n were made to share a foxhole. They sat huddled together, the wet earth pressing in around them. They were knee-deep in mud, cold to the bone, and every few minutes, a distant rumble shook the ground beneath them. They’d been here for hours, rain dripping down their helmets, every sound making them tense, hands instinctively reaching for their rifles.

They hadn’t spoken much—neither of them dared to. Just quick glances, the unspoken worry about the others out there somewhere in the same miserable conditions, trying to survive the endless barrage. Joe kept glancing at her, watching how she set her jaw, her gaze fixed on the dark horizon. He felt that familiar ache, the one that twisted painfully every time he looked at her and remembered everything they hadn’t said, everything he’d kept buried. There was something about this night, this horrible, cold silence that made him want to reach out, to finally tell her what he’d been carrying for so long. But the words stayed stuck in his throat.

A flare shot up nearby, casting the field in a harsh, ghostly light. Suddenly, a shout rang out, somewhere to their left. It was Muck’s voice, raw and desperate.

Y/n moved instantly, scrambling out of the foxhole before Joe could even reach for her arm.

“Y/n, wait!” he hissed, but she was already gone, crawling over the muddy ground toward the sound.

Joe cursed under his breath, clambering out to follow her, his heart pounding. He could see her up ahead, her silhouette low to the ground, moving fast. Another shout tore through the darkness, and then came a crack—a gunshot—and a sudden, choked cry. Joe’s heart stopped.

“Y/n!” he yelled, panic clawing up his throat as he sprinted forward. He was slipping on the mud, his boots catching, his hands trembling as he dropped to his knees beside her. She was lying on her side, her hand clutching her shoulder, her face twisted in pain, even before she could get to Muck.

“Y/n, no, no—" His voice broke, and he felt his hands go cold. He pressed down on her shoulder, trying to stanch the bleeding, his heart thundering as he tried to keep calm. “Why the hell did you go out there? You—”

She winced, gripping his arm, her eyes squeezed shut. “Had to… had to help. Muck—” Liebgott shifted his head to look at where the noice had been coming from. Eugene Roe was sitting next to Muck, patching up his shoulder, but furthermore he seemed to be fine.

“Muck’s fine, sweetheart, he’s okay.” Joe’s voice shook, but he forced himself to focus. The bleeding wasn’t as bad as he’d thought. It was a flesh wound, but the sight of her lying there, her face pale, had hit him harder than anything he’d ever faced. “God, y/n, ya scared me half to death…”

She looked up at him with half glazy eyes.

His throat tightened, and before he could stop himself, the words started spilling out. “I can’t—can’t keep watching you run headfirst into danger like that. You keep on doing that and you can’t do that damnit. Not when…” He stopped, his breath ragged, and looked down at her, his chest aching. “Not when what, Joe?” She asked, putting her hand on his cheeck. He looked so stressed, and even though she was the one who got hit, she felt like he was the one who was hurt. He didn’t want to say anything. Didn’t want to continue and then say something he couldn’t take back. “Not when I’ve been in love with you since—hell, since I don’t even know when.”

Her eyes snapped open, and despite the pain, she gave him a small, incredulous smile. “Joe Liebgott, are you seriously confessing to me now, while I’m bleeding out in the mud?”

The shock of her voice—of her teasing tone—hit him like a punch to the chest. He let out a shaky laugh, relief flooding through him as he realized she was really going to be okay.

“Apparently, yeah,” he managed, a small, breathless chuckle escaping him. Then he called Doc Roe over who was done patching up Muck. Roe came rushing over and made her sit up straight so that he could look at her shoulder. Liebgott looked down at y/n again and felt his face go red, but he held her gaze, the weight of everything he’d kept inside finally lifting. “I… I can’t do this anymore, y/n. Pretending, acting like I don’t care.” Liebgott muttered frustrated, and Roe raised his eyebrows a little out of surprise, but kept his gaze fixed on his task. “Every time you go runnin’ off, I—hell, I can barely breathe, thinkin’ I might lose you.”

She looked at him, her face softening despite the pain, and a flicker of something he’d never seen before passed over her features. “Well, maybe it’s good you said something, because I’ve felt the same way for a long time.” Her hand found his, her fingers cold but steady. “But if you keep yelling at me like that, I might have to reconsider.”

A grin spread across his face, and he gave her hand a squeeze. “Fine, fine. Just… try not to get shot again, would ya?”

“I second that” Roe said before giving her instructions on what to do with her shoulder. It wasn’t a bad wound, but he did tell her to be more careful next time because she should know better. Y/n nodded and when Roe walked away she focused on Liebgott again. She smiled, rolling her eyes at him, and despite everything—the mud, the darkness, the war raging around them—it felt like, for one perfect moment, they were the only two people in the world.

[she-wolf09231982]

Joe Liebgott

“You Nervous?”

Summary: You thought your relationship with Liebgott was complicated…until it wasn’t and it led to an unexpected evening of overwhelming emotions and sexual tension.

A/N: One shot, Mature audience, JoeLoebgottx!FemMedic, WW2, Female Pronouns, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Military and Medical Terminology, Inappropriate Nicknames, HBO Band of Brothers References, Mentions/Descriptions of Injuries, Weaponry, Smoking. Angst/Conflict, Smut, FOREVER FLUFF

This piece was at the request of @awaterfalls ❤️ hope you like it Nat!

*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*

~~~~~~~

You weren’t the type to take being treated like a doormat. You were raised to find your place amongst others regardless of gender. You earned your respect because you did your job and you did it well, not because you were pretty and the guys wanted to bed you.

It was heavily frowned upon that women be on the front lines alongside men, but when nurses and medics started to get caught in the crossfire, they resorted to allowing females to do just about everything men did to fill the gaps. You had been assigned to Easy Company right after Toccoa, and most of them were less than receptive to say the least.

Eugene Roe was grateful to have an extra set of hands. Don Malarkey, Skip Muck, and George Luz were very taken with your sense of humor so they warmed up to you rather quickly. Joe Toye, Bill Guarnere, and Babe took some time, but when you tackled Bill to avoid getting blown up by enemy artillery, their demeanor towards you made a complete 360.

Easy accepted you as one of their own…except for one: Joseph Liebgott. He was the most ornery son of a bitch you ever met. He always found a reason to trash talk you, or find fault in anything you did. All because you were a ‘broad,’ as he referred to you. The guys tried to defend you but his opinion never changed about you.

You learned to just avoid him unless he needed medical attention. He did alright not getting hurt up until you guys posted in Schoonderlogt, Holland in October 1944. He had been on patrol late one night and returned with an angry gash on the right side of his neck. One of the other patrolmen they brought back, Alley, had been hit by German gunfire and needed immediate attention.

They set Alley onto a table for when Doc got there

"Boyle, get Doc." Winters instructed then looked at Liebgott, "Where?"

"Crossroads." Liebgott replied. You notice he took a dressing and pressed it against his neck.

"Well, if it wasn't for your loud mouth-" he started to accuse Joe.

"-Hey, you know what? Back off!" Liebgott shot back as Roe pushed through the gaggle.

"Get the boots off, elevate...Lieb use the sulfur... Doc directed but noticed Joe’s neck.

“Lieb, go see Y/L/N and get that checked out.” Doc added.

“Yeah, no thanks, Doc, I’m good.” Liebgott said all too quickly with disdain.

“Joe, I wasn’t askin’ ya. It needs to be cleaned and dressed properly, it can get infected then you’ll have a bigger problem to deal with that will take you off the line. Go. I ain’t got enough hands to help ya.” Doc said sternly.

Liebgott released an irritable huff before pushing through the group to find where you were.

You had already grabbed gauze, dressings and sanitizing fluid when you heard Doc scold Joe about getting his neck looked at. He sat on a bale of straw waiting for you to tend to him. You spread out the supplies and examine his neck wound. You reach out to gently move his head to the left to get more light on it and he dodged your touch.

“What the fuck are you doin’?” He asked harshly.

“I was moving your head where I had more light on the wound. Why are you so squirrely?” You ask.

“Oh, I don’t know, because I just got shot at by a bunch of fuckin’ Krauts!” He replied sarcastically as he glared at you.

“Ok well then let’s get this fixed, shall we?” You returned with as much calmness in your voice as you could muster.

You press the cloth with the antiseptic onto his laceration and he pulled back upon feeling the sting.

“Ack! THAT HURT!” He barked.

“If you’d hold still, it wouldn’t hurt as much!!”You bit back.

You were over his childish behavior towards you.

“Just get it over with.” He grumbled, finally maintaining his composure.

You made your hands busy on his neck, wrapping the dressing like a scarf around his neck after you cleaned it. Thank goodness you didn’t need to stitch it, that would’ve been hell for both of you with his attitude.

“There. You’re good.”

“Fantastic.” He replied without a thank you.

He stood up and trudged off to join the rest of Easy for the return to Crossroads to reclaim the position. The patrol had been gone all night into the following morning, but they had eventually took victory. That evening, Winters allowed the men an evening of enjoyment at a local pub in the town to boost morale.

The men had worn their dress uniforms, each looking handsome and ready to mingle with the local women and vice versa. You hadn’t dressed up since graduating Toccoa and even then, you hadn’t been with Easy Company then, so this would be the first time they ever saw you in dress uniform,

“Hey! Get a load of this!” Toye called out to the guys when you breezed through the front door.

Liebgott standing at the bar looked over his shoulder upon feeling the cold air on the back of his neck. His jaw dropped when his eyes landed on you. He scanned your figure from head to toe.

Hair clean and perfumed pulled back into a neat fashionable bun and a face with fresh make-up and painted lips. And those gams (legs) emerging from the pencil skirt and heels and of course a clean white medic brassard displaying the Red Cross around the left bicep. You almost had the entire room at a complete standstill when you walked in.

“…Woah.” Joe whispered to himself, unaware that Talbert was near by.

“Not bad, eh, Lieb?” Tab teased.

He grimaced at Floyd and turned back to the bar to drink his beer.

The night was filled with laughter, darts, dancing, and liquor. Most of Easy had at least one dance around the room with you to favorites like Bing Crosby, Ella Fitzgerald, and The Andrew Sisters. You had just finished a dance with Toye sometime around midnight when a soldier from Dog Company had approached you.

“May I have this dance?” He asked politely with a slight bow.

Joe, standing with Buck, Luz, Babe, and Toye, watched with intensity from the dart boards.

“Maybe the next song.” You reply kindly, having just sat down for the first time in an hour.

“Come on, doll, ain’t no time like the present, right?” He insisted yanking you be the arm to the dance floor.

Liebgott’s clenched jaw and furrowed eye brows caught the attention of Toye.

“Hey, uh, you ok there, Lieb?”

Joe looked at Toye inquisitively.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, you look a little…pissed.” Toye said plainly.

“Well, I ain’t.” Joe retorted.

He looked back at the dance floor to see where you were but was suddenly concerned he couldn’t find you right away. He saw the unknown soldier had taken you to the bar to get you a drink.

He handed you a pint and insisted you drink the whole thing.

“You said you could drink me under the table, so prove it!” He said.

“Fine, just this once.” You accepted.

You started to chug the pint, but when you started to lower the glass before it was empty, the soldier tilted the bottom up so you’d keep drinking. You finished and propped the glass open side down on the surface of the bar.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go back to my-“ you started before the soldier grabbed your upper arm.

“Oh we ain’t done here, honey.” He declared.

You tried to pull yourself out of his grasp but he pulled you in by the waist to hold you close.

“Get your meat hooks off of me.” You warned through clenched teeth.

“Or what?” He mocked.

“Or you’ll have half of Easy raining down on you.”

You hear a gravelly voice behind the brute soldier. He turned and there stood Joe Liebgott squaring up to him. Behind him Toye, Malarkey, Guarnere, and Luz.

“Come on, guys, there’s enough ladies here to go around, why can’t I have a little fun with this one?”

“Because she don’t wanna have fun with you.” Joe shot back, “Let her go.”

The soldier released your arm, as Liebgott gently tugged you behind him by your wrist.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening.” Liebgott said to him as they all walked with you to the dart boards.

Suddenly you feel Joe’s hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a more secluded spot in the back of the pub.

“What the fuck is the matter with you??” He sneered at you, positioning you against the wall to talk to you.

“Excuse me?”

“You fuckin’ heard me. Why would you put yourself in a position like that? That guy could’ve walked out with you easily with as much as you drank tonight.” He lectured.

“How do you know how much I’ve been drinking? And what business is it of yours who I’m interacting with anyway?” You returned crossing your arms.

Joe took in a deep breath through his nose as his anger started to elevate in his chest.

“If I wasn’t watching out for you, you would’ve gotten yourself into some real shit.”

He leaned in placing a hand against the wall you leaned on. His face hovering centimeters from your own. You feel his breath on your face, and notice his pupils blown out from what you thought was hate and detestation for you.

His eyes undressed you from your red lips down to your fitted blouse then looked into your eyes. Your breathe started to hasten, causing your chest to heave.

“You nervous?” Joe questioned.

Your breath caught in your throat.

“-no.” You breathed.

He moved closer to you, pinning you against the wall as your chests touched. Your arms relaxed to your sides as your nails dug into the brick behind you. You were, indeed, very nervous. And he knew it.

The scowl Joe had slowly curled into a mischievous grin.

“I think you are.” He whispered confidently as his hand cupped your cheek.

Your eyelashes fluttered, “Wh-what are you doing?” You managed to ask.

His thumb stroked your cheek, “Admiring the view.”

You released an exhale after holding your breath for almost 5 minutes.

“I thought you hated me?”

He brushed his nose against yours, “No. As a matter of fact, I always liked ya.”

“Then why-“

Before you could finish your sentence, he closed the gap between you, locking onto your lips like it was his dying wish.

You snake your arms carefully around his neck as he pulled you into him by your waist. You slack your jaw open to allow his tongue to run along your lips. You nip his bottom lip playfully causing his hips to thrust into you.

You yanked at his jacket, pulling him into you again to feel his hard on against you. He groaned into your mouth.

“What are you doin’ doll?” He asked with a devilish grin.

“I really don’t know but-“ you pull him in again, bringing his earlobe gently between your teeth then whisper, “we can’t stop now.”

“Let’s get outta here.” Joe suggested ushering you out the back door.

~~~~~~~

You snuck off to one of the abandoned homes down the street from where you were and barely got through the door before you were undoing his belt. You kicked of your shoes into darkness then made your way up a flight of stairs leaving pieces of your uniforms trailing the steps as you ascended.

When you were down to your slip and him down to his briefs, you scamper off to an open bedroom hoping he’d chase you…which he did. You kneeled on the bed waiting for him to come to you. He approached standing at the bedside.

You seductively crawled over to the edge of the bed and suckled a trail of kisses from his collar bone all the way down the waistband of his underwear. Joe inhaled deeply through is nostrils as he closed his eyes in ecstasy. You nip and licked at the sensitive area above his pubic line.

“Quit teasin’.” Joe purred.

“Or what?” You ask looking up at him through your lashes.

A joker like smile appeared across his face as he swiftly pushed you onto you back then crawled over you, caging you between his arms.

“You’re asked for it, sweeheart.” He proclaimed before locking onto your mouth again.

His hardened cock grinding into you, you wrap your legs around his waist to feel as much of his friction as possible. He pulls back and began pulling your slip over your head then sat back on his heels to remove his underwear.

He gaped at you laying in front of him. He ran his hand from your stomach up to one breast, groping it then repeating on the other. He hovered over you, enveloping one of your peaked nipples in his mouth. His tongue swirling over the tip while sucking had you writing beneath him. Sensing your pleasure he switched to the other, taking the tip between his teeth.

“Please, Lieb.” You beg.

“Joe.” He corrected.

You look at him.

“I want to hear you scream my name a hundred times before the end of the night.” He growled.

You beam at him, “Please, Joe.”

He palmed himself, pumping a few times before he lined himself up with your drenched opening. He glazed his tip with your wetness, groaning at the amount of saturation.

“I really did a number on you, didn’t I?” He goaded.

All you could do was smile coyly.

He pushed into you deliciously slow. You whimper, both of you feeling every bit of your tightness around him. He embraced you instinctively until he bottomed out. He pulled back gradually, then snapped his hips forward against you with a grunt.

“Jesus Christ, Y/F/N.”

“Please, Joe.” You implore quietly in his ear.

This triggers him as he begins spearing into you roughly. He sits up, propping your legs up where he can hold you around the thighs as he drives into, hitting that perfect spot so deep inside. You push against the headboard to steady yourself onto his dick, feeling that tightening feeling in your stomach as he chased your orgasm.

He watched your face expressions purposefully, feeding off how they changed as he switched up his pace.

“Joe…” you’d moan, spurring him on to go harder.

“Yeah, sweetheart, say it again.”

“My God, Joe…”

He brought his fingers to your clit, using your slick to vigorously rub the vulnerable bud as he continued to plunge in and out of you. He loved watching you get overstimulated as you try to paw at him to pull him back into kiss.

“Right there, Joe…keep goin’.” You lament.

“Yeah? Let it go, baby.” He leered as he railed into you at a heart stopping rate.

“Oh…my GOD, JOE!” You wailed as you dig your nails into his shoulders.

He kept his pace, making sure you ride out your high until the guttural noises that emitted from him as his hips started to stutter and his load coated your insides.

He remained on top of you and inside of you, holding you like a life line with sweat dripping from everywhere. Both of you breathing in sync, each of you trying to steady your heart rates.

After a moment, you decided to break the silence.

“That was…wow.”

Joe chuckled then rolled off of you as he positioned your head on his chest.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, sweetheart.”

~~~~~~~

[aliciax3]

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

In Dreams

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Joe Liebgott x Female Reader

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

A/N: Technically female reader, due to mentions of a dress and nightown, but otherwise not very specific. And not much to warn about. It's just a simple one-shot inspired by a song.

Other Joe Liebgott fic by me:

"Go on, leave me breathless."

Thanks in advance for reading 💕 I'm still new to this.

You were on a balcony at the Grand Hotel overlooking Lake Zell, surrounded by mountains, the full moon, and twinkling stars. Your long hair and dress were flowing in the breeze as Joseph Liebgott held you in his arms, guiding your steps as you danced. Everything around you was hazy as you focused on nothing but Joe's face and the music playing:

"If I was your lover, I’d make it so you wouldn’t have to try. Break every chain that binds you, if you’d let me inside. I’m not so easy; you know I’ve never really been. But what I can give you, is as real as the world that we’re in.

Let me guide your steps, and I’ll move you in time. We’ll dance the night away. If you were my song, then I’d melt you with words. But you’re not, but you’re not.

My wandering mind will lead me to a place where we only meet in dreams. And we both surrender ourselves. Then I wake up, and I go back to sleep.

Let me guide your steps, and I’ll move you in time. We’ll dance the night away. If you were my song, then I’d melt you with words. But you’re not, but you’re not.

Out of my mind I will lose myself, and you will remember.

Let me guide your steps, and I’ll move you in time. We’ll dance the night away. If you were my song, then I’d melt you with words. But you’re not, but you’re not..."

As the song ended, Joe cupped your face with his hands. He kissed your lips, and you felt butterflies in your stomach. You opened your eyes, expecting to see his face, but he wasn't there. It was all a dream.

The war was over; you were in your own bed, alone in your apartment in San Francisco. You knew Joe lived down the street, but you had only seen him once since the war ended, and it was only because you ran into him by chance. You had always fancied him, and you thought he fancied you, but when he didn't seem thrilled to run into you that day, you didn't try to stay in touch.

You laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to hold onto the dream and the feelings it produced. You missed Joe the most out of everyone, and he was just a stone's throw away. When it all got too depressing, you sighed and looked at the clock; midnight. You decided to get up for a glass of water. As you sat on the couch, you wracked your brain for ways to see Liebgott again. Maybe you could call the cab company he works for and request a cab ride... As you were wondering how desperate that would look, a knock on the door startled you.

Who could that be at this hour?

You slowly walked to the door, and checked the peep hole. It was Joe...

You opened the door, "Joe? What are you doing here?"

"That's not a very welcoming greeting," he said as he smiled and leaned up against the door frame.

"Sorry... it's just a surprise, that's all. It's late..."

"Or early," he said, shrugging. "Now, are you going to invite me in, or let me stand here and become known as the resident weirdo that stands in doorways late at night?" He smirked.

"You said it was early," you said matter of factly.

Joe chuckled and bit his bottom lip as he looked you up and down, seemingly inspecting your silk nightown.

"Come in," you said as you finally moved out of the way. "Can I get you anything?"

"No I'm okay, thanks," Joe said as he looked around your apartment.

"So why are you here, Joe?" You motioned to the couch for him to sit down.

"Well..." he took a seat. And before you could sit down yourself he continued, "I had a dream about you."

You stared at him, and slowly lowered yourself onto the couch next to him. You furrowed your brows. "That's strange... I had one about you, too."

"Oh you did, did you?" He smirked.

"Not that kind of dream," you laughed.

"Well, mine was." He winked.

You tried to hold back a smile but couldn't. "So, you're just here to see if I'm willing to make your dream a reality?"

He chuckled, "Well, not exactly. But I wouldn't be opposed, either."

You smiled as you playfully rolled your eyes. "Of course you wouldn't be."

His face turned more serious as he continued, "but honestly, I was surprised to have a good dream at all. You see, ever since the war ended I've pretty much just been having nightmares."

"Well that's understandable, Joe..."

"Yeah, maybe... but until now, I haven't mentioned it to anyone. And it's the reason I was a bit off when I saw you last; seeing you just brought everything rushing back. But I didn't want that to be the last time we saw each other, so I felt like I needed to come see you." He was looking down at his hands.

The curiosity in you wanted to ask why he felt the need to come at almost 1 AM, but you weren't about to ruin it so instead you placed your hand on his, and said "Well, I'm happy you're here." He finally looked up at you, and smiled.

"So, what was your dream about?" He asked as he flipped his hand over, and laced his fingers with yours.

"Oh," you chuckled. "We were just dancing..."

"Dancing, huh?" He smirked.

"Yeah...on a balcony, overlooking Lake Zell." You hesitated, "And we kissed, but then I woke up." You were looking down at your hands intertwined.

He took his other hand and lifted your chin so that you were looking at him. After a moment of gazing into your eyes, he cupped your cheek and kissed your lips softly. Your stomach fluttered the same way it did in your dream.

Your foreheads were resting against each other, your noses touching. You felt a desperate need to kiss him again, and told yourself not to waste this surprise visit, so you climbed on top of him and straddled his lap. With your hands on the back of his head, you pressed his lips to yours. After pulling away, and running your hands through his hair, you said, "Now tell me about your dream." You smiled and winked.

He laughed and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in closer. "I think it's easier if I show you," he said onto your lips.

Your giggling reassured him that you were ok with that.

He began kissing you passionately and the next thing you knew, your bare skin was touching, and your bodies were intertwined. You spent the rest of the night, or the rest of the morning according to Joe, talking and making love. And you both agreed that for the first time since after the war, you both finally felt home; and not just in your dreams.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[ww2yaoi]

Lippenstift • ORIGIN Dutch • (noun) lipstick • From lip (“lip”) +‎ en +‎ stift (“stick”) Joe and Web have a conversation for the first time in Eindhoven.

[bloodstainedsaint]

Hey, I'm not sure if you take requests, but if you do, I have an idea:) Could you write something about a young woman who was in the Air Force disguised as a man and her plane was hit by the Germans while under attack, forcing her to jump out, leaving her stranded with her plane down and easy company witnessed the whole thing and tries to look for the pilot?

maybe with some romance or whatever with my mans lieb or doc roe if that’s possible hihi

when worlds collide (joseph liebgott x air force! reader)

word count: 1000+

warnings: blood & injury, but nothing really graphic

notes: sorry for the wait on this one 😭 i've been busy BUT i promise to be posting more during my break

You didn't remember much after your plane was hit by German flak while passing over some Dutch forest you couldn't recall the name of. What you could remember was everything rapidly blinking and on fire around you, dials going this way and that, your hands flying around the control board and trying desperately to pull up with the yoke as you cursed violently beneath your breath.

Following your fruitless struggle against gravity, you remembered preparing to parachute out of your plane and into the woods beneath you.

You were pretty sure you blacked out for a while after that.

-

The sight of a fighter plane nosediving into the ground and its booming resulting crash interrupted an otherwise uneventful five-man patrol through the woods.

“Jesus Christ! Did you see that?” Babe exclaimed, gawking up at where the plane had been in the sky mere seconds ago.

“Looks like it landed near us,” Pat observed.

Don looked wide-eyed. “It was one of ours. The pilot might need our help if he ejected in time!”

Lip shushed them. “There's AA guns nearby. Someone ought to go back and tell Battalion they’re positioned somewhere to our left near that dike we passed. Christenson, you go.”

As Pat nodded and left the way they came, Lip said, “We can't take too long looking for a pilot we don't know is alive or not." He checked his watch and sighed. "Alright, meet back here at 1700. Stay alert. Don't go too far on your own.”

The squad spread out in search of the hopefully-alive pilot. Joe walked with his rifle at the ready for about 20 minutes before stumbling upon large chunks of debris from the plane. Not far from that was a severed parachute, and then a blood trail.

He followed it until he noticed a pilot sitting on the ground next to some brush with his back turned to him, his clothes torn up enough to where large parts of skin littered with cuts were visible. Joe slowly approached, mindful not to scare him and wind up with a bullet in his head.

“Hey,” he called out. “Hey, buddy.”

The pilot turned around, and Joe noticed that “he” was not a he at all.

Your hand shot to the pistol on your belt, leveling it at him while vainly covering up your top half. You’d been trying to treat your wounds with the first-aid kit strapped to your waist; you'd gotten several steadily bleeding scratches from falling through trees and one or two broken ribs from your hasty landing. You ended up taking off your corset to relieve pressure on your ribcage, leaving you with your ripped up uniform and coveralls.

Regardless of your relief that an American soldier had found you rather than a German one, you kept your hand fixed on your sidearm.

“Woah, lady, put down the gun. I'm not a Kraut.” Lowering his own gun, his narrowed eyes flashed to your chest and widened at the sight of the reddish purple bruises that blemished it. "Goddamn..."

“It’s not what it looks like,” you managed out, though talking (or breathing, for that matter) was difficult.

“I don’t care what it looks like,” he said, the edge to his tone softening as he carefully walked toward you. “You need help.”

You painfully exhaled and set the gun down next to you. You turned around again to focus on treating your injuries, wincing with the movement. “I'm fine.”

“You don't look it.” He crouched down next to you. You flinched away slightly — you'd been disguised as a man for a while now, and this was the first time anyone was seeing you so vulnerable since your enlistment — before letting him inspect your wounds, albeit with you concealing your chest with your arms and what remained of your jacket.

“What’s your name?” he asked, gingerly applying sulfa powder to the gashes on your body.

You slightly hissed at the stinging sensation. “(Y/N), Senior Airman, 4th Fighter Group.”

“Joseph D. Liebgott, Technician 5th Grade, 101st Airborne.”

There was a temporary silence, punctuated only by you sucking in air through your teeth. As he bandaged one of the cuts, he said, “We need to get you some help. I was out here on patrol with my squad; we have a medic back at—”

“What?” You looked at him with a bewildered expression. “No, I don't need any medic. I just need help informing my superiors I got lost going through dense fog and got shot down here.”

“Why not? ‘Cause he'll see you're a girl?”

You gave him a pointed look. “Why else? If you haven't noticed, there aren't very many women serving on the front lines.” You paused and took a deep breath in through your nose. “If you bring your squad over here, someone's gonna report me and get me kicked out of the Air Force…Hell, I don't even know if I trust you to not report me. I just met you, for Chrissakes.”

In truth, you didn’t even know why you were letting him tend to you anyways — you were capable of doing it yourself, your biggest secret was currently exposed, and he was a stranger. But there was something about his change in demeanor and a sudden tenderness in his voice once he saw your injuries that made you want to trust him.

“Your secret’s safe, (Y/N),” he said firmly, a set expression on his face. “I got no reason to rat you out; I just met you too.”

You scanned his face for any signs of deceit, sighed when you found none, and nodded. “I’m still not letting your medic take a look at me.”

“Fine, but that’s not gonna stop me from helping you. I’ll be quick; the guys are gonna be expecting me back soon. We’ll go talk to them together.”

He resumed his aid, and after a few minutes, you could tell that he had started getting curious; he didn't seem like a man who knew how to shut up.

“How’d you disguise yourself as a man this long?”

With a shaky inhale, you closed your eyes as his hands brushed over your rib cage. Involuntarily, a small smile made its way onto your face as the countless predicaments you’d found yourself in flooded your memory. “It’s a long story.”

Liebgott cracked a crooked smile. “I can make some time.”

Laughing despite the pain that flared in your rib cage from the action, you couldn't help but feel that this chanced occasion wouldn't be the last time you would speak to Liebgott. And for some reason foreign to you at that moment, you hoped that your intuition was correct.

-

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101

[indigo-graves]

Let's get some calls on the request line!

I'm opening up requests for the BoB fandom! Just looking to do some one-shots over the long weekend and would love some ideas!

Feel free to send me your requests of content, characters, situations, anything!

[wordsaresimple-imnot]

So I’m a HUGE fan of angst. With Joe’s temper and with being unhinged from the war, any kind of physical affection can get a little rough. 😈 I feel like it’s totally his style and everyone needs to know it. Frienemies to lovers with angst and classy smut and a happily ever after is how we all deserve Joe Liebgott. 😘🥰 🪖♠️ 🦅

Oil and water - Joe Liebgott x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+ content, smut (p in v), fingering, angry sex to soft sex, mentions of violence and war/death, cursing, 1st person POV (female), female body part descriptions.

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt 2: I had so much fun with this request and wrote this faster than any of my other fics! I hope you like it, @she-wolf09231982lovely, and that I did it justice!! Please let me know what you think and if you want a different one done if I didn't quite hit the points you wanted. As always, feel free to leave comments, likes, and reblogs; they make me happy! :)

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Another punch echoes in the room, followed by more yelling. The man sitting in the chair can barely open his eyes as blood covers his entire face. I try to find any sense of morality and sympathy but come up with nothing. He's a replacement that got drunk, killed two German's and shot Chuck Grant in the head before stealing a car and trying to hide. He'd yet to show any type of remorse for his actions and the men around me were getting closer and closer to doling out their own personal justice.

Everyone got quiet and backed out of the way when Spiers came in like a dark thundercloud and hit the man across the face. In the blink of an eye, he had a gun pointed right at the man's face and just held it there. My stomach dropped and I glanced over at Liebgott next to me, but his face was dark and unfazed. Spiers would probably kill this man and no one was going to bat an eye. This was wrong. The war is over and we are still losing our friends and companions.

After a long, tense moment Spiers lowers his gun and commands us to take the man to the MP's. As he's walking away I hear him tell Tab that Grant is going to pull through, thanks to a Kraut doctor. For the first time since this night started I feel like I can breathe a little. I follow the rest of my company into the street as we follow Spiers' orders. Suddenly a scuffle erupts and our prisoner has briefly broken free from the group and is trying to run away.

I'm the closest to him and immediately run and tackle him to the ground. As I'm attempting to get him flipped around and restrained, he elbows me hard in the gut knocking the air out of me. As I'm trying to catch my breathe, a pair of arms lifts me up and I'm being pulled away from the group. Someone is steering me to an empty house and all I can hear is more yelling and fighting behind us.

Once we are inside and seating in someone's abandoned house on a couch, I look up to see who I'm with. Liebgott. To say I'm shocked is an understatement. We only look out for each other during battle, because that's our job and we are soldiers. The only times we semi get along is when we are around our friends and can use them as buffers. It's been a running joke through Easy that we are oil and water and should never be left alone together because we'd both end up dead. Now here we are totally alone and emotions are running off the rails.

"You hurt?" His face is stone cold and his voice is almost filled with disgust, like he was forced to look after me and didn't put himself in this situation.

"I'm fine. You can go." I bite out, wincing as I press on the tender spot.

"Stop being such an uptight bitch. Let me look." Liebgott rolls his eyes as he moves my hands away and lifts up my shirt. I glare at him and then glance down. The spot is a deep red and I can see spots where my blood vessels have burst. It's gonna be a hell of a bruise soon.

"Okay, you got to lift my shirt up. Good job. Go away." I shift out of his hold and cover my torso again. His glare hardens on me.

"What's your fucking problem?"

Scoffing, I jump up and pace a little ways away. "We just beat a fellow soldier bloody and Spiers almost shot him right in front of us. He deserves to be punished for what he did, but we can't start taking justice into our own hands. That's now who we are!"

"Spiers should have killed him. Grant is our friend. If anyone should give that punishment, it should have been one of us." His voice is cold and detached. We were never best friends, but it hurts a part of my heart to hear how this war has been changing him.

"Of course you would say that." I laugh humorlessly and spin to face him. He jumps up from the couch and stomps over to get in my face.

"What's that mean?"

"I heard about your little road trip the other day. I know shit's been different since Landsberg, but that's no excuse to go hunting people down and playing judge, jury, and executioner." I straighten my back and stand still as he leans further into my face. He's never focused so much anger towards me before but I'll be damn if I show any type of reaction to it.

"You don't know fucking shit. How can you? It's not your people that's been tortured and killed this whole war. Now why don't you go bat your pretty little eyes at someone who cares what you think and leave me the fuck alone."

Before I know it, I'm pushing him away from me. Hard. He takes half a step back and continues to glare at me. So I do it again, and again, until I'm beating at his chest with my fists. I'm so angry and he's the perfect target to let it out on. In the blink of an eye he has my hands in a death grip in one of his and is pushing me backwards with his other hand on my waist. He holds my hands above my head as my back hits a wall and keeps his hand on my waist.

I'm not sure who moves their head first, all I know is that we meet in the middle and it's not a kind or tender kiss. It's all teeth and tongue and biting. Neither of us want to submit so we keep at it until we are breathless and our lips are bruised. He releases my hands, which immediately fly to his hair to pull hard enough to make him wince, and places his newly open hand around my throat. When he applies pressure, I moan and press myself closer to him. A flash of something other than anger moves across his eyes; lust.

"You going to be a good girl and take what I give you?" His voice is low and rough. I feel myself clench around nothing. Never one to be agreeable with him, I just smirk.

"Fuck you." Joe just smirks back and shoves his hand that was on my waist down my pants and under my underwear.

"Feels like that's what you want." He watches my face as his fingers glide through my soaked folds, parting them to rub directly on my clit. Another moan escapes me but is cut short by his hand squeezing my neck again. "Eyes on me."

I open my mouth to say something flippant back but only a gasp comes out when I feel him shove two fingers inside me and start pumping them in and out. The hand on my neck alternates between squeezes and lightly stroking my skin. I keep my eyes on his face, taking in how clenched his jaw is and the way his pupils are blown wide. Another moan comes out when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.

He shifts closer to me, angling his hand so he can keep hitting that spot and rub my clit at the same time. His face stops when our lips are a hairs breathe away.

"That's my good girl. Take it." He places a soft kiss against my lips that's such a sharp contrast to the pressure on my neck and movement of his hand inside me. Joe leans his forehead against mine and keeps repeating his previous words as my orgasm gets closer and breaks through so hard I see stars.

As my vision starts to return I hazily watch him bring his soaked hand up to his mouth. The moan he lets out after tasting me is sinful and has me clenching again. When he's done, I pull his head back to mine, kissing and licking his lips begging for entrance. My own moan comes out when he opens his mouth and I taste myself on his tongue. Suddenly we are a blur of moving limps as we dispose of our clothes, not caring where they land and move back to the couch. We land with him on top of me and I roll my hips up to feel his erection slip through my folds.

Just as his tip slips in, Joe freezes above me and time stops. He's got one hand holding my thigh up around his waist and the other is on the arm of the couch, keeping him hovering over me. He trails his hand from my thigh, up my side, over my breast and up to cup my cheek. Our breathing slows down as we just look at each other, his hand holding my face like I might break if he's not careful. I run my own hand up his back and cup his cheek in the same fashion, gently pulling him towards me.

"Are you sure?" He whispers against my lips, eyes searching mine. They're softer now, the anger having melted away and now there's an open rawness in its place. I nod my head and whisper a soft 'yes' as I pull him into our first slow kiss of the evening.

Carefully, he pushes himself inside me and pauses again when he's bottomed out and our hips are flush against each other. We exchange more slow kisses and when I gently nip his lip, he knows it's okay to start moving. Once he sets the pace, slow, thorough and unrushed, we know this isn't just a simple fuck. Neither of us speak, just let ourselves get lost in the feelings as we moan and gasp against each others lips. As I start to clench around him signaling the approach of my second orgasm, I moan his name. Joe picks up the pace, some of the earlier frenzy returning as he focuses on pushing me over the edge again.

All I can keep saying is his name and after a few more thrusts, I'm seeing stars for the second time that night. I feel his thrusts become uneven as he chases his own release, moans flying out of his mouth. When he cums, he presses himself as far into me as he can and says my name like a prayer against my lips. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever heard.

Once we've stabled our breathing a little, we shift around so we are laying more comfortably on the couch, him still half inside me, completely entangled together. Joe leans up just enough to pull a blank from the back of the couch over us and tucks me back in against him. It's silent as we enjoy the afterglow and feel of each others skin.

"Did I hurt you?" Joe whispers, kissing the top of my head. I smile and kiss his chest.

"No more than I wanted you to." We share a small laugh. "I thought oil and water could never mix."

Joe pulls back enough to look at my face, "I don't think we are oil and water. I think we are something that can't be defined." He drops a kiss on my lips and then lays back down. "Now, get some sleep. We are going for breakfast tomorrow and then wherever you wanna go for the whole day."

I fall asleep with a smile on my face, not knowing he does too.

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Out of the Woods

So finally here is the fic to accompany the Liebgott Taylor Swift moodboard (as seen below) Pairings: Joseph Liebgott x reader. Warnings: swearing, gore (reader is a nurse), war themes

Normandy 1944

Joseph Liebgott had never been the easiest man to get along with, he was stubborn and opinionated and was built like a ticking time bomb, the slightest thing could set him off and that was the mistake Y/n made when she first bumped into him.

“Hey, watch where ya going ya shit head!” Y/n stumbled forward, her threadbare boots scuffing in the mud as she dropped the wooden crate of medical supplies, cursing as the valuable, clean bandages unravelled into the sludgy puddle. The path outside the aid station was a thick mire and often reminded Y/n of the way her father had reminisced about the trenches of the Great War.

“ I should watch where I’m going?” Y/n spat, narrowing her eyes at the paratrooper, “You’re the one who just cost first battalion half of their medical supplies.” Throwing the salvageable bandages back into the box in anguish, the crumpled lumps of clay-coloured cloth were no good now. Y/n wasn’t sure how she was going to break the news to Eugene; the medic wasn’t known for his anger but knowing their situation this would surely push him over the edge.

The paratrooper spun around to face her, his skin pale and dark eyes encircled by purple, “oh so first battalion got their own personal nurse now? No wonder those fuckers are so cheerful,” he sneered, oblivious of the accident he had inflicted and not bother to offer any kind of assistance as Y/n fumbled anxiously for the supplies.

“No, I’m distributing supplies to all the medics in each battalion of Dog, Easy and Fox company actually, but maybe when I find out which battalion you’re from I’ll conveniently skip them,” she snapped back, thrusting the waterlogged box aggressively under her arm, no longer concerned by the trail of sludge leaking down her white apron.

“Good day, Corporal.”

Holland 1944

The second time they met was no better. Joe had been injured on a patrol and his neck was bleeding profusely through the rudimentary bandage wrapped poorly in a limp scarf.

“Liebgott just let me look at it God dammit,” Y/n reached over, her nimble fingers trying desperately to remove the bandage from his neck but he flinched away. Her fingers barely brushed against the dressing as he shot up from his seat in a receptive, crumbling leather chair situated in the corner of the temporary aid station, having once been someone’s home that now lay abandoned and derelict.

“No, get off me. I don’t need your help. Where’s Doc Roe?” Liebgott snapped, and Y/n sighed elaborately; she was in no mood for this kind of attitude. There were eleven other men in the aid station who would all greatly appreciate being attended too.

“Doc Roe is dealing with other casualties. You got me or nothing.”

Liebgott snorted, “Guess I’ll just bleed to death then.”

Y/n protested but Liebgott had already shouldered his M1 and was making his way towards the entrance.

“Why won’t you just let me look at it?” Y/n hollered, a little louder than she had intended and alerted the other paratroopers.

Joe spun on his heels, his mouth-eaten jump boots, scraping the rough, wooden floorboards.

“I don’t want some woman half-assing a dressing because she wants to be part of the war effort. This is no place for a woman, it is a man's war,” he vituperated her, taking no notice of the stares he was receiving from his friends. “I don’t want your help,” his word was final and his boots were heavy as he departed leaving a deafening silence in his wake.

“I don’t know what his problem is with me, Gene,” Y/n sighed, as she finished unpacking the fresh medical supplies from one of the many crates from their much-needed supply drop. Her muscles griped, but soon relaxed as she finally took a seat on one of the crates; Y/n had been on her feet all day. “I don’t know why he hates me.”

Eugene's dark eyes followed her movements, sending a sympathetic smile her way as he dropped down beside her on the crates, “Liebgott is a hard man to read, ma Chérie.”

Y/n simpered, the right corner of her lips turning upwards at the nickname. Eugene, with his dark hair and kind eyes, had always been a striking character and the two were of one mind. His friendly but subdued nature seemed to draw people to him, making him a favourite within the company, including with Y/n who despite what other men in the Company thought was always a welcome hand by Eugene’s side,

“I just don’t understand why he hates me.”

“I don’t hate you,” the gruff voice caused the pair to turn; Y/n felt as though she may have whiplash from the speed at which she spun around, concerned by how much he could have heard from their conversation and worried that he would now think she was pathetic, lamenting about trivial problems. Joe, standing in the doorway leaning against his M1, seemed to have not heard the conversation or if he had he never made a comment. Instead, his dark eyes made their way towards Eugene, bloody bandages still pressed against the wound on his neck.

“Are you free to look at my neck now, Doc?” He asked, ignorant of Y/n presence - why should this be any different to any of their previous interactions? He stared blankly at Eugene.

“Sure, Liebgott,” Eugene stood up and moved over to his fellow paratrooper. “Take ya self a seat, I’ll grab ma things.”

Eugene disappeared, his heavy footfalls seemed to echo his departure and was the only sign Y/n needed.

“I’m going to head out, Gene. I’m shattered,” her hands fumbling into her musette bag, hastily stuffing the extra box of syrettes Eugene had given her into the inner pocket. Joe’s eyes seemed to dance after her, an unwanted shadow documenting her every movement. They followed her out of the door and even as her boots squelched unpleasantly down the track, her legs carrying her rapidly away from the watchful eyes. She couldn’t find it in her to turn around, to face him, too afraid of the glare he always sent her way.

Bastogne 1944

The Luftwaffe started dropping bombs around midnight. Y/n with blood encrusted under her short nails, had just finished her rounds, checking on all the wounded soldiers she had patched up during the day. The distinct whistling from above was her first clue that they weren’t going to have a quiet night. Like a deathly siren announcing the beginning of the end. Reneé appeared beside her, anxiety etched on her delicate features.

“We are in for a long night, Y/n. Grab what supplies you can.”

Y/n nodded, hurrying towards the store room when the first bomb whistled down on the church, shaking it from the rafters, dust falling in great clouds from the ceiling.

“Y/n, come quickly. We have to evacuate everyone.”

Along with the other nurses, Y/n helped Reneé evacuate the walking wounded first, sending injured soldiers into the snowy streets of Bastogne. Next came the more severely injured, hauled out on stretchers between two nurses.

“Y/n, stay out here with the wounded, check their wounds. We have to make sure no one has torn any stitches trying to escape. I’m going to try and get some more out,” Reneé called, hurrying back into the crumbling church with several other nurses hot on her heels.

Great flames billowed from the surrounding buildings, the night was ablaze with fire and smoke, and the earth shook with each eruption. Soldiers had started firing the Ack Ack guns at the aircraft above. The noise was deafening, a constant pounding over the top of the whistling bombs and explosions. Y/n could feel her heart pounding, a constant thumping in her ear reminding her that she was miraculously still alive.

The church was struck again and Y/n had to fight the urge to follow her friends into danger, but the wounded soldiers needed her. Lights flashed up behind her, illuminating the terrified nurse and her patients. She turned to see a jeep approaching, a wounded man strapped to the front wailing in agony, thrashing against his restraints. The jeep swerved to a halt and a figure came running towards her.

“EUGENE!” She cried out running to embrace her friend.

“Ma Chérie, are you alright?” Eugene hugged her tightly to his chest. Y/n couldn’t help the tears that began to fall, the growing emotions of the evening finally spilling from within her.

“Gene, Reneé went back inside,” Y/n sobbed, just as the third shell hit the church. They both watched in horror as the front of the church caved in, stone crumbling down into the street and blocking the entrance.

“NOOOO!” Y/n cried, thrashing against Eugene’s arms but he wouldn’t let go.

“No Y/n, please. There is nothing we can do. I can’t lose you too,” he admitted, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as they shared in their grief.

Joe sat shivering in his foxhole, the cold seeping into his bones in a way that the winter in San Francisco never could have.

“Hey Joe,” George called out, plonking himself down beside him. “How ya doing?” George shoved his scuffed leather boot against Joe’s clothed leg, prodding him like an impatient child.

Joe turned to him, “How the fuck do you think I’m doing, George? I’m freezing my fucking ass off in the middle of the woods for a CO who can’t even make a decision.”

“Alright, jeez. Sorry for asking,” George raised his hands in surrender. “We just got news from Bastogne.” George began, trying to gauge Joe’s reaction. “It was hit by the Luftwaffe. The aid station… it’s gone.”

“Oh fucking brilliant. Now if we get hit we ain’t got no aid station either.”

George swallowed quickly, “Y/n was in Bastogne.”

Any words Joe had thought of died in the back of his throat. His face went as white as the snow on the ground and he could feel the sweat growing on his palms, his stomach plummeting into his jump boots.

“Is she…?”

“I don’t know, Joe. Doc’s not back yet but I wanted to prepare you in case.”

“In case of what?” Joe snapped, standing from his foxhole and slinging his M1 over his shoulder in anguish. “And why should I care anyway? It’s not like I like her or anything.”

“Fucking hell,” George whispered under his breath. “Joe, when are you gonna grow some balls and admit you’re in love with her. Everyone can see it, including Webster and he’s oblivious to most things.”

It was true George had to spell it out to him back in Holland before he got hit.

“Webster sent a letter to Hoobler the other week asking if you’d finally told Y/n.”

Joe sighed, running his hand over his face, deep in thought.

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Hell yes. I bet even the Krauts on the other side of the clearing can see it.”

Joe nodded slowly, “okay. As soon as I find her I’m gonna tell her.”

George nodded, watching as his friend hurried away to check if Eugene had returned.

“Let’s just hope he’s not too late.”

Y/n groaned as she straightened her back, stretching after what seemed like hours of bending over to apply dressings, carrying wounded men to transport vehicles, and digging through the rubble to collect supplies. Her friend's bodies had been retrieved from the church and lay in a neat row under rough, army-issued blankets. Y/n couldn’t bring herself to look at them, couldn’t bring herself to accept their fate.

She had seen members of Easy Company coming and going. A few had been sent by Captain Winters to help, bringing with them more wounded paratroopers from the front line. Y/n was too preoccupied to notice the familiar figure approaching her, she didn’t notice until he grabbed her arm firmly and spun her around to face him.

“Liebgott!” She gasped, raising her hand to smack him. “What the hell is your problem? You scared me half to death.”

Joe looked a mixture of shocked and confused until his cheeks grew a bright red.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He seemed genuinely sorry but Y/n was too consumed by her emotions to think rationally.

“Well you did a darn good job of that didn’t you,” she snapped. “You know if you’re just here to be mean or make some rude comment then you can forget it. I’m not in the mood today. I just lost my friends.” Y/n knew she should not have snapped, it wasn’t Joe’s fault but all the emotions were bubbling up inside her and if she felt anymore pain her heart would burst.

“That’s not why I’m here,” Joe began, he reached forward to take Y/n hand in his own. It was warm, comforting and almost felt familiar, as if he had been holding her hand all their lives. She let him but watched in confusion by this unusual act.

“I’m so sorry about your friends, Y/n. I know this must be difficult for you. I’m here because… well when George told me the aid station had been hit I couldn’t think of anything else than making sure you were okay. Y/n I realised something and…”

“Joe, let me stop you right there. Why would you care if I was okay or not? Joe you hate me… and… and I’ve never understood why?” Y/n sobbed, bringing her hand to cover her mouth, muffling her whimpers into her bloody sleeve. “Why do you hate me, Joe? What did I do wrong?”

Joe’s heart shattered at the sight of the broken woman in front of him. Her shoulders shook violently and tears flowed freely down her dirty cheeks, smudge with ash and mud. She looked frail, weak even and Joe hated that he’d caused it.

“Y/n, I never hated you. Why would you think that?” Joe moved towards her, collecting her hands in his own larger ones once more and rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “Talk to me, Y/n. Please.”

“Well you always shout at me and… and you wouldn’t l-let me treat your wound and y-you avoid me all the time,” she stammered, looking up at him through tear-filled lashes.

“Oh Sweetheart,” Joe pulled her against his chest, his breath felt warm and tingly against her neck. Y/n had never noticed that he was only slightly taller than her and her head fitted perfectly in the crook of his neck. Her hands wrapped into tight fists against his jacket and she could feel his heart hammering against her hands. “I don’t want you to ever feel like that again.”

“Joe…”

“Shh Mein Liebling, it’s all going to be alright now.”

Austria 1945

Y/n had never dreamed that she would get to visit Austria. It seemed as if it was a world away from the likes of Bastogne and the horrors of war. Its tranquil, turquoise lakes and steep mountains with their snow-covered peaks seemed the pinnacle of the landscape. Work had become scarce too, other than the occasional scrape or sprain it had mainly become stock control and arranging supplies to be sent to the Pacific where the fighting had yet to cease. Y/n knew that both herself or Joe could be sent to the Pacific at any time it was inevitable, and neither of them was going to get through the war unscathed.

For now, they were at peace and in the comforts of her room, under clean sheets with her legs tangled in Joe’s and her head resting on his chest, Y/n couldn’t help but feel at peace. The steady thrumming of his heart and the gentle rise and fall of his chest coaxed her too and from sleep in waves. She didn’t want to move, afraid that she would disturb her sleeping paratrooper but at the same time her legs had gone numb hours ago and she could feel the pins and needles begin to prickle their way up her legs.

“Joe?” She whispered, reasoning her hand cautiously to brush a stray brunette lock out of his eyes. Joe’s nose wrinkled and he screwed his eyes shut tighter with a sigh. Y/n smiled as she watched him stir from his slumber. It was one of life’s greatest pleasures to see Joe so relaxed, so at peace even if for just a while.

Joe moaned, his long lashes fluttered against his cheeks before they opened revealing his chestnut orbs.

“Good morning Mein Liebling,” his voice was gruff and sleepy but the smile on his face said that he was more than conscious enough to show his love.

Y/n smiled back at him, “Good morning handsome. How did you sleep?”

“It’s the best night's sleep I’ve had in a while, although I don’t recall much bc sleeping happening.” Joe grinned and Y/n's cheeks grew bright red at the thought of last night’s activity. Glancing around the room there was evidence everywhere. Clothes strewn across the floor, the mirror hung lopsided on the wall, the desk was cleared of any objects and the paper that had once occupied it lay across the carpet.

“I have to admit it’s the most enjoyable night I’ve had in a long time,” Joe admitted, tangling a lock of her hair around his finger.

“Me too,” Y/n admitted and Joe smiled once again.

“What does it mean? Mein Liebling?” Y/n asked, running her fingernails slowly over his exposed chest.

Joe laughed, “my darling. It’s been your nickname for a long time.” He admitted his cheeks rosy and his smile nervous.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve been calling you that for far longer than you’ve realised. I just didn’t want anyone to realise I was talking about you. Figured the other guys would give me hell about it.” Releasing the lock he’d wrapped around his finger, he sat propped up by his elbows so he could face her.

“Y/n, I need to ask you something and it’d be real nice if your answer was yes.”

Y/n sat up now too, her expression a mixture of anxiety and confusion but the soft smile on her lips encouraged him to continue.

“Y/n will you come home with me, back to Chicago I mean? I can get my old job back at the cab company and we can buy a big house…” he paused a grin spreading across his lips. “A big house with lots of rooms, for all the little Liebgotts we’re gonna be making.”

Y/n laughed, smacking Joe’s arm.

“You’re lucky you’re good looking Liebgott.”

“Am I taking that as a yes?”

“Yes, you can.”

Joe grinned at her, his cheeky little smile followed by a little laugh causing Y/n’s heart to swell beyond what she thought was possible. Wrapped in Joe’s arms in their little room in Austria Y/n realised that maybe they were finally out of the woods.

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @desert-fern @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @merriell-allesandro-shelton @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @mutantmanifesto @malarkgirlypop