#johnny martin x reader

[kittiisimms]

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ masterlist ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆. 　　　.   　　˚　✭　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚ 　　　　 ˚　.˚

fics ;

( requests are: open. lowercase intended)

♡ casual (joe liebgott x reader - with some floyd talbert x reader)

☆ die with a smile (easy company x reader)

✮ present (eugene roe x reader)

♡ me and you together (joe liebgott x reader)

playlists ;

( a collection of spotify playlists i have created - all based on x reader)

✧. ┊    we few, we happy few, we band of brothers

✧. ┊     in the pub with easy company

✧. ┊    dick winters

✧. ┊    lewis nixon

✧. ┊  eugene roe

✧. ┊  joe liebgott

✧. ┊  george luz

✧. ┊  female paratrooper of easy company

✧. ┊  max vandenburg (the book thief)

[footprintsinthesxnd]

It’s Not Christmas Without You

Hello @supervalcsi I am your Secret Santa for @hbowardaily secret santa. I’ll prewarn you this fic is a bit angsty (like a little bit 😂) but I heared that you like angst so I’m hoping it’s okay. I hope you have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Warnings: very angsty, mentions of death and images of war

Johnny had always loved the festive season, the lights, the carols, the food and the general feeling that no matter what the year threw at them they would make it to the next Christmas. But this year Johnny didn’t feel even remotely festive. He couldn’t see any hope of him making it through the night, let alone the next year. The artillery barrage had finally ceased, and debris lay strewn across the once crisp, white landscape. Fallen branches blocked his view of the front line but he knew they were there, hiding… waiting.

Loud footsteps drew him from his thoughts as a figure stood over him, blocking his view of the sky that for once was clear. Blue smudges spread between the grey clouds almost like a sign of hope.

“Hey Martin, whatcha thinking about?” Y/n all but threw herself down beside him, her characteristic smile on her face, the wide grin that no matter how down you felt on your luck, could make you smile too.

“That we’re doomed.”

Y/n snorted, “Well you got out of the wrong side of your foxhole this morning.” She rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Well, we are. Kraut artillery is hammering us every chance they get, and when they aren’t shelling us the damn cold sets in and you all but freeze your balls off.”

“Come on Martin, don’t be like that. We’re alive aren’t we, that’s all that matters.”

“Yeah, just,” Johnny grumbled, snuggling further into his jacket and shoving his glove-clad hands even deeper into his pockets.

“Right you old Scrooge, you’re coming with me,” she stood, grabbing hold of his arm and dragging him from the depths of his foxhole.

“Who the hell is Scrooge?” Johnny moaned, trailing behind her like a dejected puppy.

“You don’t know who Scrooge is? From ‘A Christmas Carol? Charles Dickens?” Johnny continued to look at her blankly.

“I wish Webster was here, he’d know who I was talking about.”

Johnny laughed, “Yeah good old Webster, couldn’t even go AWOL to help us in this shit. I bet he’s really nice and warm back in that hospital.”

Y/n sighed, turning around to face him, “Don’t be such a downer. I’m glad Webster’s not here. It means he’s safe which means one less of my friends could die at any second. Now I’ll take that as a win.”

Johnny had to admit that it was nice to know that at least one of Easy Company wouldn’t go through this debacle.

“Now come with me and try to smile at least.”

Johnny followed Y/n, walking past foxholes filled with their friends who were still deep in slumber, taking advantage of the few hours of peace.

They approached Y/n's foxhole that she shared with Eugene and she gestured towards the small fir tree that stood a few meters from the hole. Around the tree was strung some rope with rudimental Christmas decorations of fir cones and leaves, a few scraps of red fabric that Johnny wasn’t sure where Y/n had gotten it from.

“What is all this?” He asked, disbelief and confusion evident in his handsome features.

“It’s our Christmas tree and this…” Y/n dug into her pocket and pulled out a ragged looking lump, “is your Christmas present. I’m sorry it’s not much. It was all I could get in Bastogne when I went in at the last supply drop.” Johnny’s face softened, and he lifted his hand, brushing it gently against her frozen cheek.

“I’m sure it’s perfect.” He unwrapped the bandage material from around the gift and found a small, ceramic angel ornament inside.

Johnny's face crinkled into a smile and his eyes shone brightly as he looked down at the angel.

“Thank you, Y/n but you didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” Y/n interrupted, her bright eyes staring up at him through hooded lashes. Johnny had never truly appreciated her beauty until now. The way her hair hung down framing her face, her nose scrunched as she laughed at jokes that George would tell her, the way her forehead creased as she glared at Skip as he won another bet against her. Even now all covered in the dirt and grime of the Bois Jacque she was a picture of beauty.

“Y/n, could I ask you something?” Johnny felt himself growing nervous, his mouth felt dry and his left eye twitched as he tried to find the right words.

“Of course.”

“Well, you know as it’s Christmas… and well we might not make it through the next year… I was just wondering if I could…”

Y/n having grown impatient by Johnny stuttering, grabbed the lapel of his coat and yanked him towards her. “Yes,” she replied before placing her lips against his. The kiss was soft and full of feeling. Johnny felt himself winding his arms around her waist as Y/n fingers delved into his hair, tugging at the grimy, brown lock. Johnny normally would have felt self-conscious about his appearance but at that moment all he could think of was the woman in his arms.

When they pulled away, both couldn’t help the large smile that grew across their lips.

“Merry Christmas Y/L/N.”

“Merry Christmas Martin.”

“Hey Luz, you owe me 20 bucks,” Skip mouthed across the snowy ground to where George was sheltering in his foxhole.

“Fuck off, it’s Christmas for Christ's sake,” George grumbled, shoving his helmet further over his head to shield himself from Skip's view.

“I’d pay up if I were you, Luz. Skip owes Bull money and if you don’t pay up, he can’t pay Bull. I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of Randleman,” Malarkey confessed, looking up from his canteen of steaming coffee.

“Yeah right! Bull’s not going to do anything to me,” George’s laughter soon ceased as a large snowball hit the back of his helmet, splattering down his back and allowing the ice to penetrate his winter coat.

“That son of a bitch!”

“Pay up, Luz!” Bull’s hearty laughter could be heard from a few feet away and George sighed.

“After everything I do for you lot. All those Hershey bars I saved for you guys and this is how you repay me. Merry fucking Christmas to me.”

That was last Christmas. 1944. Amid the Ardennes, the snow created a frozen wasteland where the dead lay in shallow graves, forgotten by many.

Patty was bustling around the kitchen, clattering pots and pans while she had left Johnny in charge of decorating the tree with the children. The kids were messing around while Johnny half-heartedly dug through the box of decorations until his fingers brushed against something smooth, familiar, cold to the touch. He pulled the ornament free and with a shaky breath he ran his thumb over the dusty angel. It still had mud crusted to one of its wings and the other hung slightly lopsided where Webster and his clumsy hands had dropped it in Haguenau. Johnny didn’t realise he was crying until Patty laid her hand on his shoulder making him jump.

“Oh Johnny, it’s beautiful. Here let me hang it on the tree,” she reached forward for it but Johnny snatched his hand away.

“No!” He snapped, “Don’t touch it… don’t…” Patty looked a little hurt but she knew her husband didn’t mean it out of malice. He was hurting more than he’d ever admit and she knew the war had been hard on them all but Johnny would never talk about who he’d lost.

“You got it Belgium, didn’t you?” She asked, trying to coax her husband to share his feelings.

“Yes,” he whispered, looking down through blurry eyes at the simple figure. “A friend gave it to me.”

Patty nodded, moving around to crouch in front of her husband.

“Well, how about we put it on the tree? To remember him by. I know he meant a lot to you.”

Johnny stood, moving across the room in slow motion. As the ornament connected with the branch of the tree, it felt like the whole world stopped for just a moment. He was back in the forest, snow covering his helmet as he walked hand in hand with Y/n. Her cold fingers wrapped tightly in his palm, her laughter wafting through the trees.

Patty’s hand slipped into Johnny’s and she squeezed it gently, resting her head on her husband's shoulder she hummed, “I would have liked to have met him.”

Johnny cocked his head to look at his wife, “I wish you had too. They were taken from me far too soon.”

The couple stood silently side by side, their children playing at their feet while music from the radio drifted around them. Johnny felt a single tear trail down his cheek.

“Goodbye, Y/n.”

Tags: @georgieluz @iceman-kazansky @yeahcurrahhe-e @lieutenant-speirs @sharpshootershifty @liberteuniteegalite @msmercury84 @mayhem24-7forever @blvestxr @dustyjumpwjngs @theflyingfin @jump-wings @kafka-ohdear @kmc1989 @mads-weasley @docroesmorphine @liptonsbabe @lena-basilone @sweetxvanixlla @hesbuckcompton-baby @ronsparky @allthingsimagines @whollyjoly @bucky32557038ww2 @panzershrike-pretz @xxluckystrike @malarkgirlypop @hanniewinnix

[mads-weasley]

hi! can i make a request for a Johnny Martin fic, if u write for him, of him and reader snuggled in a foxhole in Bastogne??

Follow You Anywhere

Johnny Martin x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Hi anon! Thanks for requesting! I've never written for Johnny, so sorry if this isn't the best! this is also a really short blurb! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of easy company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog! Enjoy!

Summary: After a long day in Bastogne, everyone takes advantage of the little downtime they have, including the stoic Johnny Martin.

It had been a long day for Johnny when he plopped into his foxhole. They'd lost Hoobler to a self-inflicted gunshot wound, and he didn't know how much more he could take. As a sergeant, he was tasked with keeping up with his platoon, and in the Ardennes, it was harder than before.

"Hey," (y/n) whispered, stuffing her hands under her armpits. "How are the rest of the guys?"

Johnny sighed, rubbing his hand down his face. "After Hoob, they're not doing good."

She looked over at him and saw utter exhaustion. They all felt the same, but Johnny felt more than everyone thought. The stern and sharp-tongued officer cared for his men more than they would ever know, and every time he lost one, it devastated him.

Reaching over, she gently cupped his cheek, turning him towards her. "And how are you doing, Johnny?"

He silently stared at her for a while, almost like he was trying to find the words to accurately describe his pain. Johnny ended up shaking his head with slightly red-rimmed eyes.

"I'm managing."

(Y/n) pulled him closer and wrapped her arms around him as he nuzzled his face into her neck. She had to suppress a shiver from the touch of his frigid nose. "You know I'm always here, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he murmured into her neck. "I just don't want to talk about it yet."

Nodding, she leaned her head atop his and looked up at the sky above them. There wasn't much to see because of all the bad weather, but she imagined the stars shining on them brightly.

"Who would've thought you could take the stars for granted?" She asked quietly.

Johnny scoffed lightly, looking up as well. "Yeah, I'd do freaking anything just to feel the sun again. Or see the stars. It might make this a little more bearable."

An icy wind gust blew through the forest, sending snow swirling around them. In their already freezing foxhole, Johnny tucked (y/n) under his arm and covered them with the thin blanket he'd found.

"You know," she started. "When we get home, I don't know if I could live somewhere cold again after being in this place."

Johnny looked down at the shaking figure in his arms and took in the redness of her nose and cheeks, but also the beauty that radiated through. "Me too, sweetheart. I'll follow you anywhere you want to go."

"But what about Columbus?" (Y/n) asked, wide-eyed. "You can't just leave. That's where your whole life is, Johnny."

A soft smile formed on his lips at her confused expression. "Doll, as long as I'm with you, I'll be alright."

“Well then, Sergeant Martin, what do you think about Arizona?”

Tag List: @softguarnere @mrsgeorgeluz @flowers-and-fichte @inglourious-imagines @peggyvan @rebeccapearson

Let me know if you want to be added!!

[softguarnere]

can you write something for Johnny Martin?? Maybe something kind of angsty but with a fluffy ending??

Thank you!! Hope you’re doing well!!

The Depths of Despair

Johnny Martin x reader

A/N: Hi anon! I hope you're also doing well 🤗 Thanks for the request, and I hope you like it! (This is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) Warnings: mentions of war

For a moment, the two of you sit in silence, neither sure what to say. The past few days have been so full of fun, sunshine, enjoyment, and general disregard of the rules that the announcement this afternoon has put a damper on everyone’s mood. Well, everyone except for the lucky few with enough points to go home.

It seems unfathomable that Johnny should be getting ready to make yet another jump while you get sent back to the states. They can’t spare a fighting man for the upcoming conflict, but apparently they’re just fine shipping nurses who are willing and able to work home. Of course, there’s work to be done there, but you’d rather be doing the work required here – or, more accurately, wherever in the Pacific that Johnny may be sent.

“What if I just don’t go?” You finally suggest. There are probably better solutions. However, in the depth of despair, the most obvious resolutions are often the most difficult to initially find, let alone hold onto. What you’ve come up with seems like a start, though.

Johnny’s eyes go wide. “Why wouldn’t you?”

“What?”

“Go home,” Johnny clarifies. “(Y/N), you have to go home.”

Now it’s your turn to be confused. “Johnny, I can’t do that. I can’t just – just leave you behind and go about my life while I worry about you over in the Pacific.”

“I’d rather you be safe,” he counters. “I would be worrying about you the whole time if you were still in an aid station.”

You could argue more. There’s no good in being at home if you’re worried sick; there’s no use spending so much time apart worrying if one of you is doomed; you should spend as much time together as possible while you can. Instead, you decide to save your breath and stick to the last one and enjoy whatever time you have left together.

“Come on,” you say, changing the subject by taking Johnny’s hand in yours and leading him out into the streets, toward one of the massive buildings that makes up Berchtesgaden. “I heard Tab say something about a ballroom somewhere around here. I want to dance.”

When you glance back at him, Johnny looks bemused, but not upset. Finally, he smiles. Maybe he’s just reached the same conclusion that you have and is too tired to argue. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s dance.”

. . .

He hasn’t looked this happy for days, you realize when Johnny strolls into the tent where you and a few other nurses are organizing supplies. A wide smile paints his face, and though it doesn’t seem possible, it only grows when his eyes land on you. His skin is slightly pink from sunlight, his hair tousled from sweat and running. It’s then that you realize his chest is heaving ever so slightly, like he’s just run here, or he can’t quite catch his breath, or both.

You abandon the box you’re in the middle of sorting. “Johnny?”

“It’s over,” he says.

For a split second, you think he means the relationship. You blink, stunned. Several other nurses glance over in concern, with one even dropping the pencil she was holding seconds before.

“What?”

“The war,” Johnny clarifies, still smiling, none the wiser to the heart attack he’s just given you. “The Japanese surrendered. The war is over.”

“Oh my God!” Someone cries out, sending the tent into a tumult of excitement as everyone abandons their work, hugging each other, cheering, some even crying at the news.

As for you, you practically fall into Johnny’s arms when he holds them out to you, his embrace warm. After the awkwardness of the past few days as you attempted to navigate your time together without it devolving into another disagreement, you can finally relax. Entangled in your embrace, you feel Johnny do the same.

Over the sounds of celebration, you whisper in his ear, “We’re both going home.”

“Together,” he whispers back.

No worrying about him while he’s in the Pacific. No worrying about you in an aid station. After all this time, you’re free, and heading back to the places where you began. Your heart races in your chest as you start to realize how different things will be this time, now that you’re in each other’s lives. Of course, there are details to be worked out, plans to be made, decisions to be finalized, but you can cross those bridges when you get there. Right now, all you care about is enjoying this haze of happiness and celebration as long as you can.

“Together,” you agree, smiling at the promise of what is to come.

[lovelyd0gg]

4th win!

the 4th one that won was Johnny Martin, so enjoy<3!!

Martin not being much on PDA but you are.

Warnings; fluffyy!

𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗𝚗𝚢 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗

•Martin wasn't big on PDA but you were, how did you guys start dating? You guys never knew.

•You were usually the one to initiate the kisses and hugs and cuddles while he just went with it.

•The biggest affectionate you've ever seen him was when he nuzzled his face into your neck, which was very weird for Martin to do but you enjoyed it.

•He was usually the more serious and mysterious type whilst you... Well maybe you were just a fluffy ball of sunshine.

•Sometimes he'd ask for a kiss here and there but that would be rare.

•If he had a long day at work, he would just pull you in a hug because he needs it.

•He's a busy man.

•Sometimes you'd shower him in kisses and although he tells you to knock it off and tries to hold in his laugh on the outside, he's melting on the inside and prays you wouldn't stop.

•He just doesn't want to show it, he has a reputation to hold!

•But sometimes... He might snatch a kiss or two without even asking.

[lieutenant-speirs]

Sitting across the table from you, Sergeant Martin had been watching you rapidly zone out from the conversation of theo ther soldiers around you. “Hey Peanut… You okay?” the endearing little nickname falling from Sergeant Martin’s softened voice pulled you back from your thoughts.

Your eyes shift over to his features, which were studying yours intensely. You simply nodded and gave him a small smile. One he did not return, but merely raised his brows slightly. “Really? ‘Cause it looks like you’re about to cry.”

You try to maintain your smile but you can feel your lips twitching as they fight to drop the smile, tears welling up in your eyes before you even had a chance to blink them back. “I’m fine.” you stupidly try to convince him, knowing your teared-up features were evident that you were lying. The wobble in your voice only adding to your lie.

Instead of just sitting there and arguing with you, Sergeant Martin gave a small tilt of his head, a gesture of ‘come on’ indicating for you to follow as he stood up. You slowly rose too, not wanting to bring unwanted attention to yourself for breaking down. Keeping your gaze down, you followed Sergeant Martin outside as he lead you around the side of the building that offered a little privacy. Soldiers were still walking around but none were within eavesdropping distance. Few might be able to catch glimpses over ruins of the stone fence but that was something that couldn’t be helped with the foot traffic of soldiers on guard, on patrol, carrying out whatever duties were required of them.

Sergeant Martin took his typical position when he wasn’t impressed; arms crossed at his chest, intense gaze, shoulder leaning against the brick wall of the building. However, it wasn’t because he wasn’t impressed by the situation, rather…it was fucking freezing. But this was as private as could offer right now. You’ve all gone through worst. Bastogne, notably. Blue eyes on you, he patiently waited for you to say something but you kept your eyes down on the ground, as though you suddenly found his muddy boots incredibly interesting… The texture, the colour, the small cracks of the mud still embedded on the leather boot…the contrast of the brown mud against the grey stones of debris that-

“Peanut….?” His voice pulled you out of your thoughts and your eyes quickly flickered to his, as intense as his gaze was, there was a softness showing through his blue orbs.

You swallowed down the whimper that arose in your throat, giving a small laugh instead; a nervous tic of yours, before your eyes finally lifted to the grey skies which mirrored everything you felt. You pursed your lips together and ran your tongue along your lips before slowly letting go, only for your teeth to catch your bottom lip and pressing hard, not enough to draw blood… but enough to try to ground you in that moment.

Brows that were generally either downturned when your bad, or resting when you’re happy (your only two moods), were now upturned in a worried manner. Letting go of your bottom lip, you let out a small gasp before finally finding the words to explain…Eyes resting on a focal point on the stone wall. Anything but directly at your Sergeant. He didn’t seem to mind.

“I…um…I got a letter….” you started but then stopped. In your mind, it explained everything. But to Sergeant Martin, it explained nothing except that you must’ve received some bad news. So he gently prompted, “A dear John letter…?”

“No.” you laughed softly, the idea so absurd that someone might actually like you in that sense… The laughter quickly died down as a painful emotion washed over your features “A…It’s um…My…Dad. He died.” “…I’m so sorry….” came the hushed apology as Sergeant Martin’s heart dropped. It was all he could say. Despite his usually tougher exterior, he was still extremely sympathetic in situations like these. It’s never easy losing your parents. You shook your head. You didn’t want sympathies. They don’t bring back the dead and you’re not the type to fall weak to it. “How’s your Mom?” “I don’t know…ask my Dad? They should be reunited now but I’m…stuck here without them. All alone.” Sergeant Martin watched as your smile at small attempt at humour quickly faded into sobs. Everything you had at home was gone. It was just you, your mum and your dad. And then just you and your Dad.

Your Dad couldn’t sign up for the war due to his declining health. But you could. And you did. To make him proud.

But when you signed up for the war to become a medic, you thought you’d be assisting in medical tents near the front lines… not actually be on the front lines. You took it all in stride but you never anticipated the pain of working tirelessly only for the wounded to die on you, you never anticipated watching your friends die before your eyes or underneath your working hands…

And now this.

The one thing the War couldn’t touch… and still managed to rip your only other loved one away from you.

Sergeant Martin knew how strong you were. Many of the men doubted you, shamefully including him, but they were all proven wrong by your strength and resilience. You had become their boulder; a safe and stable place to lean on. In the end, he was glad you were part of his platoon.

The division was split up into platoons. There were two medics; you and Doc Roe. You got paired with, what you thought, were the meanest assholes of the group. You were slowly proven wrong. Probably because when they bite, you bit back harder. Thus earning their respect because you could hold your own. Sergeant Martin had been the trickiest to earn his respect. But in time you did.

You certainly didn’t think a day would come where you would be the one needing a shoulder to cry on.

A hand flew to your mouth to stifle the sobs that finally rose from where they had been squashed down for days, your other hand resting on your knee to steady yourself as you hunched over.

“Oh, peanut…” you heard him softly mutter that endearing nickname before you felt yourself being pulled against him as he hands wrapped around your arms and guided you upright into his chest. His arms immediately wrapping tightly around you. His lips pressing against the side of your head as his arms were strategically placed so it wasn’t inappropriate. One arm around the upper middle of your back, the other arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you firmly to him.

Any strength you had that you were holding onto, immediately melted beneath the warmth of his embrace and your heartbroken cries soon turned to muffled cries as you turned your head into his chest and trembled violently with each sob that racked your body. As muffled as they were, they still caught the attention of nearby soldiers who would either look around for the source of the sound, or they’d see it but the death stare from Sergeant Martin over the top of your head was enough to keep them moving. He had to wonder whether anyone else in the building could hear you.

Sergeant Martin felt a tight tug at his jacket and then two little points of pressure at his sides, coming to realise that you had moved your hands to grip him for support. “Breathe, Peanut…” he reminded you when your sobs threatened to turn into hyperventilation. His hand soothingly rubbing your back in an attempt to ground you and calm you down. But he never hushed you. Just simply being a friend to lean on and letting you get it out. You’re no good to them if your mind is preoccupied elsewhere while on assisting on missions as their standby medic. And they can’t rely on Doc Roe when he’s currently needed elsewhere.

Lieutenant Speirs walked past and his eyes zero’d in on the source of the sound. An unreadable expression on his face…. Disapproval? He looked questioning at Sergeant Martin but the Sergeant merely pressed his lips together and give an ever so slight shake of his head, indicating bad news from home and that you weren’t alright. “Best get yourselves inside, Sergeant. No point standing out in the cold. Thought you had enough of that in Bastogne.” “Will do, Sir.” “Get yourselves a cup of tea, too.”

No, it wasn’t disapproval. It was a situation where Speirs wanted to help but didn’t know how. Little did the Lieutenant know that by simply offering the suggestion of a tea, was plenty help in itself.

This wasn’t a situation like Blythe. He saw Sergeant Martin offering comfort to the one person everyone thought would break at the very beginning but proved them all wrong… obviously it was something more than a feeble case ‘I’m scared’.

Lieutenant Speirs knew.

Blue eyes watched as Speirs walked away without a second glance to you both.

Your sobs had quietened down and Sergeant Martin loosened his arms around your back and rubbed your arms. “Lieutenant Speirs has a point. It’s fucking freezing. You right to go inside?” “Yeah. Let me just take a moment.”

Sergeant Martin stepped back a little bit but he stayed a moment longer, not leaving that personal space where there’s barely a gap between you. Just in case you needed an extra hug. Which, deep down you did but he’s already done so much. You smiled a wobbly smile up at him as you took a step back and inhaled a shaky breath. “You go in. I need a moment.” you reassured him. He looked like he didn’t believe you, and probably didn’t, but nevertheless he gave you that warning look that you all knew not to fuck things up, and left to turn the building and walk back inside.

You wiped at your face and leaned back against the brick wall. Sighing harshly and closing your eyes to the heavens. God, you didn’t think it’d hurt so much to lose your Dad but it did. It hurt knowing that you haven’t even turned 30 yet, and you lost both your parents already. This wasn’t supposed to happen for another 20 or so years! You took in deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down and place a reality check on yourself. You’re alive. It’s more than you can say for many that died in vain…

Sergeant Martin walked back inside the abandoned building and began barking orders. “Webster! Brew some tea. Everyone else…” his voice dropped to a more serious tone as he walked over to where the majority of his boys were. They were a little team, situated in an abandoned building while awaiting new orders. The whole squadron on standby. “A certain little peanut out there isn’t doing too good and needs our support.” “What happened?” “Bad news from home.” “We all get bad news from home, Sarge. Dear Johns…Dear Janes…” “No. Not when the only family you have left is gone.” The intense stare that Sergeant Martin has, made sure to dead-stare everyone individually until these thick imbeciles of his finally got the message. “The Old Man?” Malarkey quietly asked. Sergeant Martin simply nodded. Malarkey swore quietly under his breath. It’s no lie to say that Malarkey is well-liked by everyone, and he gets along with everyone. So it’s no surprise that he knows more than Sergeant Martin would. You having told Malarkey many stories, and him swapping his own. So, he fills the rest of the team in as to why this was more serious than some random family member dying. “(y/n) lost their Mom years ago to TB or Pneumonia or somethin’… Parents had a child before (y/n) but it died. Ended up bein’ just them and their old man. No siblings. No Aunts or Uncles.”

Again, Sergeant Martin let that small piece of news sink in before he spoke again. “Which is why I want you to all sit up at the table and give them the support they need. Do I make myself clear?”

A low, hushed chorus of ‘Yes Sarge’ was given before Sergeant Martin walked away and the boys went back to doing what they were doing. Some were playing cards, some were reading books or letters, some were writing letters, some were making conversations.

Sergeant Martin’s gotta hand it to them though…. Because as soon as you walked down the stairs, neither of the boys looked up or treated you with special treatment. They carried on as if nothing happened. Malarkey glanced up from smoking his cigarette quietly but said nothing. He watched you walk outside with Sergeant Martin so it’s no surprise he’s a little curious.

Sergeant Martin walked over with two cups of tea and passed you one. “Thank you” you politely said as you wrapped your cold fingers around the warmth of the mug. It’s not as warm as Sergeant Martin’s hugs but it’ll do. Another tilt of his head towards the table was given and you followed quietly as you both sat down with your tea. The teabags were stale but it was better than nothing and a somewhat nice break from the terrible coffee.

Malarkey had swapped smoke for tea as he poured himself a cup and walked over to join you at the table. You glanced over at your friend and smiled softly, he smiled back but said nothing. Malarkey barely smiles these days but when he does… it’s rather sweet. However, he had since watched his two bestfriends die and that did a number on him. Just like the letter you received had done to you.

Liebgott made his way over with his own cup of tea and sat down with a huff, rolling his head back and slouching in an uncomfortable position that’s probably comfortable to his long limbs.

Slowly… one by one… including Webster, who received a small nod rather than a death-stare from Sergeant Martin, made their way over and sat down at the table.

Everyone was silently sipping away at their tea until Sergeant Martin broke the silence. “Since we’re all here, I want to make a toast.” “Hear, hear!” “To peanut… we couldn’t get through most of our days without you ordering us around like a mother hen. Both your parents would be proud.” “To Peanut!” Liebgott said as he raised his cup of tea a little, followed by everyone else who chorused a ‘To peanut!’ making you laugh.

Why do you get the feeling the nickname is going to stick?

You raised your mug politely with a soft laugh.

Malarkey leaned over, his shoulder bumping against yours as he quietly reminded you, “You’re never alone, (y/n). You have us. We’re not much, but you have us.” You bumped your shoulder against his, laughing softly “Thank you, Malark.”

You sat there, quietly listening to everyone. Cold fingers wrapped around the warm mug of tea, nursing the warm liquid. You glanced up and saw Sergeant Martin watching you. You smiled softly, mouthing a ‘Thank you’ and he simply smiled back and gave a wink.

[ferally-ships]

hi :) are you working on anything rn?

Hi Sweet Anon! There's a small list..and given you came to my personal blog, which is a mess of multiple fandoms, I'm not sure which fandom you came from so I'll give you a run-down...

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒: @lieutenant-speirs ▸ Lᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ Pʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ (Lɪᴘᴛᴏɴ); 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈; 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆. ▸ Sɢᴛ. Mᴀʀᴛɪɴ x Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ Cᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ (Pʀᴇᴠɪᴇᴡ ʜᴇʀᴇ); 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈; 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆. ▸ Sick Lipton, Caring Speirs (This idea) 𝑪𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂 ▸ Malarkey Needs a Hug drabble (𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @liebgotts-lovergirl) 𝑪𝒖𝒓𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏 𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒂 ▸ Asks in general - 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋: @hitman-two ▸ Amazing Grace content (Doc Bryan x Grace) 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈; 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆. ▸ Brad Smut (Requested twice!) 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈; 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆. ▸Ray or Walt request 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈; 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒉𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆. ▸ Brad x Reader (Female Reporter) request 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 - 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐍: [𝚘𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚞𝚜]

[lieutenant-speirs]

…………. Letters.

From BoB. As if they’re writing to their significant other. Yes. I’ll introduce this. Want a letter from someone with their inner thoughts on paper? Want to tell a BoB character something? Let me know!

[nobitchs-world]

Me after explaining the multiverse of different people and characters where I have different ocs in my head to my sisters

[narwal-ed-in]

ARMY GLITTERATI - (Band of Brothers x Bimbo!Reader)

✨glitterati✨- /ˌɡlɪt̬.əˈrɑː.t̬i/ - 1940's slang for famous people, glamorous people, in the spotlight.

Summary: “You want to become a combat medic for the 101st?” “What, like it's hard?”

Warning: Period typical sexism, Fem reader, she/her pronouns, slight body shaming (not directed at reader). NO BETA READ. I WROTE THIS JUST NOW SO PLEASE DON'T EXPECT MUCH.

No disrespect to the real veterans of WW2, all my BoB fanfics are based on depictions by actors in the miniseries.

Borders by @plutism

BEFORE TACCOA

The war is raging and everyone is doing their part to help the men on the front.

For you, that mostly meant trying to look your best at all times, no matter how inconvenient the situation.

"Looking good is a ginormous part of the war effort, it's good for boosting troop morale. I saw it on a poster at the teaching hospital" You reasoned with your father after he complained about you buying another pair of shoes and some expensive vanishing creams.

"Darling, I think they meant that we should all keep our appearances up, not buy out our local department stores"

"Oh my god daddy, you're suffocating me! I'm just doing my part by looking nice..." you glare at your father in his work clothes and eye him with a grimace "...and clearly you're not"

When you get a telegram informing you that you've been selected to participate in a program that aims to send female medics into combat you jump on it.

This is going to be so much fun.

"I'm going to be the talk of the town when everyone finds out. Not even Reverend Smiths boring old story about dying for ten minutes in a car crash and seeing Jesus will be able to outdo this!"

Your supervisors at the hospital are shocked that you've been chosen, seeing as you're not the sharpest knife in the drawer.

You had once walked out of an operation because it was bloody and you were wearing white (all the nurse uniforms are white).

You hoped you wouldn't be assigned to the army or the airforce.

The army is too basic, and if you were stuck on an airbase somewhere then nobody would be able to see how fab you always were.

The navy was your goal, their uniforms were sooo cute, you were just dreaming of all the ways you could style it.

It's just your luck when you get assigned to airborne.

"THIS BLOWS! I'm in the two most unglamorous branches at the same time"

After your initial breakdown you realized it wasn't that bad. If you were jumping out of planes it just meant that your hotness would have a bigger audience since it would literally be raining down from the sky.

"When the Germans see all this falling from the sky, they're going to flip their friggin wigs! AHHHH"

CONNECTING WITH EASY

You're assigned to Easy company and meet the men a few months into their training at Camp Toccoa.

You show up randomly in the middle of the day.

Although the men had been told a woman would be joining them and they had been expecting you, they hadn't been expecting YOU.

You were a ditzy thing and looked like you’d jumped out of one of their pin up postcards. The brass surely couldn't expect them to put their lives in your hands.

"I'm sooo happy to meet everyone. You know, the other girls in the program are such massive liars, they said airborne was where all the uggos went, but that's so not true. After all, I'm here"

You always woke up an hour earlier than the rest of Easy so you would have time to put your face on.

It was one of your tenets to never be seen by anyone outside of family without makeup on, or with your curlers in.

Malarkey, Skip, Penkala, Shifty, Bull, Christenson, Lip and Winters had all been kind to you from the beginning, expecting nothing in return.

But some of the guys had other ideas.

George was one of the men that befriended you initially. And although he did have the ulterior motive of getting it on with you, he eventually stuck around because he actually liked you.

You guys have great play-flirting banter and you're both very entertaining people to be around, especially when you're drunk.

On the rare nights anyone gets passes they want to be around you and George because they know that's where the funs at.

You get sloppy drunk with George, flirt with men from Easy and other companies all night, then end up with your shoes off at 3am, sitting on the curb and crying about one of your ex boyfriends.

Perconte was one of your original detractors but when you found yourselves making the same brain dead comments about obvious things, you both decided to put your two half braincells together to form the singular braincell you share between yourselves.

Talbert was trying to get into your pants instantly. Nobody was surprised.

But just like George he grew to be genuinely fond of you.

What was surprising was Joe Toye taking you under his wing.

Toye could see that you were absolutely clueless and the worst part was, you had no idea.

Toye couldn't bear the agony of watching you skip around camp with your happy-go-lucky attitude, harping on about celebrity gossip nobody cared about.

"Y/N!" Toye yelled as you all got dressed to run Currahee "Why the hell is your PT shirt pink?!"

"Isn't it just the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen, Joe? I put a red handkerchief in with my laundry. Cosmo said carnation pink is the color of the summer"

Huffing and puffing, Toye took out one of his spare shirts and forced you to wear it.

"And when you give it back, it better not be fucking 'flamingo pink'" Toye said.

"Oh honey, this isn't 1939, flamingo pink is so over. I wouldn't be caught dead in that. You know, Joe, sometimes I feel like you don't care about fashion at all" You scoff at his cluelessness as you walk out.

Joe Toye is secretly your best friend in the company.

Toye taking you in meant Gaurnere and Johnny Martin had to be around you, much to their chagrin.

They didn't want some girl hanging off of them.

You win Gaurnere's respect when you coach him on what to write to his girlfriend back home to assure her that he's serious about their relationship when she began doubting his intentions.

And you win Johnny's respect when you help him find the most romantic gift for his wife for valentines day.

"Y'know, back home they call me the love doctor...Well, they used to, before I told Betsy Kline that Rob Jones was her soulmate but then he left her at the altar to elope with his housekeeper"

Sobel despised you from the moment he laid eyes on you.

Not wearing your red lipstick everyday was torture, but you had to stick to natural colours so Sobel wouldn't be able to tell what you had on.

He tried with everything in his power to get you kicked out, but much to everyones surprise, you kept up extrordinarily well with the men when it came to physical training.

"I do a lot of Pilates. It's really good for flexibility and helps you keep a positive outlook so you're not be such a 'negative nancy' all the time. Some of you could really use it. Some more than others..." you said as you side-eyed Skinny who just looked around incredulously

Eventually most of the men come to consider you a friend and a confidante since you give remarkably sound relationship advice.

"It's like sooo hard being the smartest person and the hottest catch in this camp at the same time"

The hardest nuts to crack in your immediate friend group end up being Leibgott, Cobb and Doc Roe, all for different reasons of course.

Leib was snide and arrogant and spoke to you like you were a silly little girl.

He didn't shy away from telling you how dumb he thought you were to your face.

Your relationship eventually becomes friendly but he will still be mean occasionally.

He always ends up apologising though and feels really bad when he makes you cry (the other guys nearly bite his head off whenever this happens).

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, stop being a baby already. I said I was sorry" Lieb said to you as you cried into your pillow.

"You can say sorry to me, Joey, but how are you going to tell Rita Hayworth you're sorry for saying nobody cares about her nighttime face washing routine?" You spoke inbetween sobs.

"I ain't saying sorry to Rita because I ain't sorry I said it. I stand by what I said. Nobody cares how some broad washes up at night"

"You take that back! That routine saved my life" You jumped up, pointing an accusing finger at the man.

"How the fu-"

"You're a horrible, horrible man Joseph Leibgott"

"Oh put a sock in it" Leib rolled his eyes, making you cry even harder.

Toye, ever protective of you, had enough "I swear to god Leibgott, leave that girl alone!"

Cobb was just straight up cruel to you and made sure you always knew "your place".

Roe didn't seem particularly close to anyone.

But as you all of you went into the more specialised aspects of your training and you and Roe spent more time together, he found himself looking out for you.

You were sitting alone on the grass after everyone had groaned and walked off the moment you started talking about an article you read in a magazine.

You sigh sadly, pulling at the grass when a shadow falls over you.

Bringing up a hand to block the sun you finally recognize who it is. It's Eugene Roe.

"I, uh, I was wondering if I could sit with you?" he asked.

You nodded excitedly and he took a seat beside you in the grass.

"What was it you were telling the others?"

You gasped "You really want to know?"

"I guess…"

Doc had seen everyone walk away, and although he didn't care much for mindless conversation, he knew talking to people meant a lot to you and had come over to cheer you up.

Without missing a beat you began one of your famous tirades.

By the end of your first year in Toccoa you end up finding your place.

Thanks for reading! Please like, comment and reblog if you want❤️

[awaterfalls]

DEFINITELY WAS

[footprintsinthesxnd]

Okay so everyone has been flooding my asks the last few days with request which is incredible. I didn’t realise so many people enjoyed my writing 😂

[ithinkabouttzu]

Hilo! Can you do the easy boys with an extra ticklish reader?????

Easy co. dating an extra ticklish s/o!

a/n: Hi! Thank you so much for your request! I hope you enjoy lovely! 💗

genre: romance; fluff

warnings: sorry guys i used the word tickle like a 100 times in this, there’s a little suggestion!

description: The men of easy co. reacting to you (their s/o) being extra ticklish!

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

BoB masterlist

Dick Winters: He thinks it’s adorable. The first time he tickled you he probably wouldn’t even have meant to do it on purpose, like maybe his finger brushed beside your arm and you immediately started to laugh hysterically. He would think something was wrong with you until you told him lmao. He’ll keep it in mind though next time you try to tickle him.

Lewis Nixon: “Oh come on! You can’t run away now!” He’d figure out how ticklish you were when he decided it would be nice to give you a sweet kiss on your neck. Then he would completely take advantage of the fact that you are extremely ticklish there and start kissing the same spot over and over again.

Carwood Lipton: He would discover all of this when he was trying to be a gentleman to you and give you a nice foot massage after a long day on your feet. The moment he puts his hands on the back of your sole you would be in a giggling fit. He would sit there and look confused, waiting for some sort of joke. Once you told him, he would find it cute and laugh it off with you.

Joe Toye: When you tell him that you get ticklish very easily, he isn’t quite sure what to think of it at first. When he wraps his arms around your waist and sees you break into immediate laughter, he gets it then, and he finds it to be the cutest thing ever. He’ll tickle you over and over again just to hear that pretty laugh of yours.

Joe Liebgott: “Oh come on honey, you’re really that ticklish, huh? I guess I’ll have to keep that in mind for later then.” He honestly doesn’t believe you when you tell him how ticklish you were at first, but like nix, he’d try to be smooth and kiss your neck, and have you in a giggling fit in return. “Oh doll, it can’t be too bad, i’m just tryin’ to give ya’ some lovin’ that’s all.”

Bill Guarnere: I feel like this fucker here is going to make it into somethins sexual when it’s really not lmao. Like once he knows that you’re super ticklish, he's going to purposefully tickle you until you're begging for him to stop, and once you’re doing that he’s already in the mood to do something else iykyk. Better to just not tell him at all LOLL.

George Luz: When you tell him you can be extra ticklish at times he is taking that to his advantage 100%. If you guys are in the middle of some play fight and he knows you’re winning, he's gonna start tickling you, same for anything else you could be beating him at. Whenever he just wants to hear your laugh his immediate thought is to tickle you and it makes him feel SO happy

Eugene Roe: Now he wants to get into a million tickle battles with you. The sweetest thing about it is if he was hugging you or touching somewhere where you were ticklish he would ask if you were okay and if he needed to move his hand to make you comfortable. ( because he knows how frustrating that must get at times and he’d hate to accidentally hurt you.)

Bull Randleman: He doesn’t have much of a reaction when you tell him other than thinking that it’s a cute niche trait of yours. I think he wouldn’t really tickle you unless he was having a horrible day and just really needed to hear you laugh. Kinda like Bull, he'd be wary of touching one of your tickle spots and accidentally irritate that spot since you’re sensitive there.

Floyd Talbert: He’s similar to luz when you tell him that, he’s going to take it to his advantage and use it against you anytime he needs the upper hand (in a very playful way of course.) He’s also kinda like Bill too in the same way that he likes hearing you beg lol. Whenever you’re feeling sad, be ready to be tickled by him until you feel better haha.

Skip Muck: Oh gosh, once you tell him that you’re very ticklish he’s now going to tickle you every time you get some exciting news, need some cheering up, want some physical touch from him, literally anything possible, he just needs a reason to tickle you. He loves making sure your and his relationship is very lightweight and happy, and that's the best way to do it.

Don Malarkey: Honestly tickling you is his way of flirting with you before you guys ever got into an established romantic relationship. Once you guys are in that relationship he’ll still do it in a flirty way loll. He also really finds it as a form of intimacy, it's his way of being close to you, and seeing you smile always feels nice too.

Babe Heffron: “No way! Me too!” This is completely fanon but I have this idea in my head that he would also be extremely ticklish too. Like you and him would be trying to cuddle and both end up fighting for y’all’s lives because you guys are accidentally tickling each other. It’s also his biggest weapon against you so beware lol.

Shifty Powers: He would be the perfect partner for a very ticklish person because he knows when it's appropriate and not appropriate to do it. He knows that being tickled after a while can hurt, so if and when he is tickling you he won’t do it for too long. As long as you are laughing and having a good time then he’s good with it.

Frank Perconte: He’s the type of guy that likes to sneak up on you and tickle that spot on your neck when you’re focusing on something. He loves fucking with you like that. He knows that tickling you is your biggest weakness so he will use it against you anytime he needs the upper hand (Like floyd lmao.)

Ronald Speirs: You would tell him that you’re ticklish, but the horrible thing is, this man couldn’t be able to tickle someone correctly even if his life depended on it. The thing is, whenever he tries to tickle you he ends up digging his fingertips into you which just makes you hurt in the end. He gets an A for effort though.

Johnny Martin: He probably won’t tickle you a whole lot, mostly because he’s not always the most playful, but if you had started tickling him first he would definitely be there to finish it and win at the unspoken tickle war lol. He would be the guy to swear he’s just not ticklish but once you get to that one spot on his side, it’s game over for him.

Skinny Sisk: He’s just like Luz, he’s going to take full advantage of the fact that you’re super ticklish, he loves loves LOVES being playful with you so tickling is always a go-to for him. He also does it when he just really wants to be close to you but doesn’t know how to express that to you. His favorite spot to tickle you is gotta be that spot under your armpit.

Chuck Grant: He thinks it’s super adorable that you get so ticklish so easily. The only thing is, like Speirs, he isn’t very good at tickling at all LOL. He does this one thing that is so cute and it's called, “Hand tickling” which is just caressing your hand in a very fast way lmao. Not a very good tickler but he gets an A+ for creativity and effort.

David Webster: He doesn’t like tickling you a whole lot for a number of reasons, one because too much of it can stimulate seizures, brain aneurysm, and eventually death. (He’s just a tad bit dramatic lol.) And if he does tickle you it’s probably because you started it first. I could definitely see him doing it a lot by accident though.

Buck Compton: He’s like Skip in this scenario. Now just because you told him that you get ticklish very easily, he is going to go out of his way to try and tickle you almost 24/7. Like almost every other night before you and him go to bed, he’s giving himself some corny ass name like “The Tickle Monster” lmao.

Thank you for your cute request!! If you enjoyed, please make sure to like or reblog!! I love you all! <333

[johnnieguilbertsgirlfriend]

hiiii would you be able to make a master list w links to all your works? just wondering and no pressure!! i feel like it would make navigating your page easier <3 love your work

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

newest to oldest, nsfw is marked with a ♡

--𝒉𝒂𝒎𝒛𝒂𝒉𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄--

⍟ cake by the ocean ♡

⍟ talk to me ♡

⍟ boyfriend headcannons ♡

⍟nights like this♡

--𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒆 𝒈𝒖𝒊𝒍𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒕--

⍟ are you a virgin? ♡

⍟ turtles ♡

⍟ frustrated ♡

--𝒋𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒃𝒆𝒓--

w.i.p.

--𝒈𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚--

⍟ embarassing... ♡

⍟ shower situation #3 ♡

⍟ shower situation #2 ♡

⍟ shower situation #1 ♡

PLEASE KEEP SENDING ME REQUESTS ALWAYS

[jakevwebber]

can you write hamzah just casually mentioning his gf in videos/on the pod ☺️🥰😋😜🤭😎😻

accidents happen sometimes - hamzahthefantastic / fluff

2:20pm

today hamzah and me were goin to martin and mandy’s place , originally was just hamzah but mandy wanted me to come help her clear her closet out so i obviously accepted.

it’s finally autumn so my autumn outfits are ready to be worn , i’m wearing black knee boots tights a black mini skirt with a red long sleeve button up top and a black bomber jacket .

hamzah was wearing black baggy jeans a red hoodie and a black coat with adidas sambas same as me , we didn’t mean to match but it just happened.

at the moment we’ve just come out about our relationship so i’m still getting the odd few horrible messages but mostly people saying they love me already and they ‘guessed it’

i grabbed our car keys from the table and get into our car it takes around 15 minutes to get there so it was no rush.

we just arrived and hamzah started getting excited to see martin like extremely excited.

martin opened the door hugging hamzah and jumping on the spot spinning , i took a video of them and then i pushed them so could get to see my girl mandy .

i said bye to the boys and said enjoy and walked into there bedroom and sat down with mandy beginning to help get rid of clothes.

hamzah pov -

me and martin sat down and began recording our youtube video , today we’re filing us playing episode because it’s a very popular choice of game.

“hey slushies “ martin says making a stupid face and i side eye him laughing

“ok today we’re playing episode because you love it as much as we do”

we get onto the game and began thinking of a name for the girl we’re playing as

“what about chloe , lily , emma , y-“

martin looks at me smiling and laughing

“didn’t mean to say her name oops oh well who cares !”

martin laughed again me too

“erm i cant think what about ds-“ he says

“dsstiny” we both start laughing very loudly

“okay perfect everybody welcome dsstiny”

time skip to 6:42pm

“is y/n still here?” i ask martin

“obviously she is”

“wait i wanna check”

i get out of my seat and go into their bedroom to check she’s still here

i see her laid on their bed and mandy on the floor folding clothes

“having fun ?” i ask both of them

“oh the most fun baby” y/n rolled over smiling at me

“yeo so much fun hamzah , when are you gonna be done ?”

“ like ten minutes mandy”

she put the thumbs up and i closed the door saying bye to them and sitting back down next to martin

“i told you”

i turn my head and smiled at him carrying on playing.

another time skip to when there back at home.

7:58pm

“how was filming?”

“it’s was okay i brought you up a couple times by mistake”

“you scared of people thinking stuff ?”

“yeah i know eveyone knows now but people can still be mean “

“i don’t care i love you and accidents happen even if you did bring me up it’s cute that you always think of me “ she moves to layed down next to me leaning her head on my chest kissing my cheek.

“ i love you too” i wrap my arm around her closing my eyes.

_________________

i think this was the quickest i’ve ever wrote something lol hope you guys like it! send more requests pls the more you send the more posts there is !

[she-wolf09231982]

Chapter 8- Adapt and Overcome

Summary: After the German bomb run on Bastogne, the locals and American soldiers there that were left, helped piece back together what they could of the town. Medical personnel that had survived still tended to the wounded however they could with whatever supplies they had left. Easy Company remains in the Ardennes Forest preparing for an inevitable assault on German forces in the town of Foy. However, morale is low due to cold weather, constant shelling, zero relief, and numerous casualties to include a few of your closest friends as Easy pushes forward into Haguenau.

A/N: Mature audience, Joe LiebgottxFem!Medic, post D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Y/F/N, Y/L/N, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Mentions of death, Confrontation, Military Terminology, Medical Terminology, 1940’s slang, Inappropriate Nicknames, Band of Brothers References, Mentions of Weaponry, Yiddish/German/Italian to English Translation, Descriptive Wounds/Injuries, Blood/Gore, PTSD, Smoking, Banter, Pining, Consensual Physical Contact/PDA, FOREVER FLUFF

German is identified with (g)

Yiddish is identified with (y)

Italian is identified with (i)

Made the best discovery writing this piece: "Liebling" means "darling" in German!! That absolutely made my day and now is my new favorite pet name/term of endearment from Liebgott.

Beginning 1x7 The Breaking Point then transitions into 1x8 The Last Patrol

*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*

~~~~~~~

January 5th, 1945

German artillery fired onto Easy Company from the town as Easy soldiers scattered to the nearest foxholes to take cover.

“INCOMING! TAKE COVER!” Lipton shouts to the men as he runs to the nearest foxhole.

Blasts coming from all directions causing trees to fall and dirt to fly made it difficult for the men to navigate safe passages to their holes. You had been separated from Joe before the attack started. You lay flat behind a pile of fallen trees for cover while you shield your face from the debris. You were too afraid to move, fearing you’d just get hit.

After what seemed like hours, the ambush came to a halt, and you suddenly heard a familiar call from the distance.

“MEDIC!”

You sprang from the ground and started running towards the cry for help then you ran into LT Buck Compton.

“Buck! Are you ok!?” you ask as you look him over frantically.

He had a distant look in his eyes.

“Sir? SIR??” you take him by the shoulders and shake him.

Buck finally looked at you, “...yeah.” he whispered.

“Did you see anyone else that was hurt? I heard someone call for a medic.”

His eyes began to gloss over. You tilted your head while you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Buck? Who needs help? Please, tell me!” you urge him.

He pointed to a path through the trees and uttered names that almost had you fainting at his feet.

“Bill...and Joe.” 

You wasted no time dashing through the tree line where he had pointed to. The path lined by the woods seemed never ending. All you heard was the drumming of your heartbeat in your ears while your feet became heavier and heavier impeding your ability to get to Joe as fast as possible. Images of his lifeless body flashed before your eyes, causing tears to stream down, stinging your cheeks from the cold air.

You finally reach the clearing, stopping to assess the carnage of blood in front of you. You see Doc Roe already kneeling over a soldier lying on his back whose face you couldn’t see from where you had been standing. To the left you see Guarnere leaning against a pine, his right leg hanging on only by tendons and ligaments.

Two men rushed in with a litter. 

“Bill, you go first.” 

“Whatever you say, Doc.” Bill replied. 

“Over here. Take this man.” Gene ordered pointing at Guarnere.

Guarnere was hoisted onto the stretcher, and carried off, not before a snappy exit comment,

“Hey, Joe, I told ya I'd beat ya back to the States.”

Tunnel vision sets in as the world starts to cave in on you. You fall to your knees as you attempt to pace your breathing so you won’t pass out.

Malarkey appeared from the path behind you.

“Y/F/N! Hey, you ok??” he asked concerned as he hooked you under the arm to help you up.

His voice was distant and muffled.

“I-I-” you stuttered, but words completely fail you when you see the right leg of the soldier that Doc was helping...more so the right leg that was completely missing. You gasp slapping your hand over your mouth in a desperate attempt to stop the scream of terror from escaping. You look at Malarkey with dread painted all over your face.

“It’s...Joe!?” you managed to say between panting as you start to hyperventilate.

Don looked over and understood what you were reacting to.

“Y/F/N, that’s Toye. Joe Toye.” he clarified slowly and deliberately so you could understand.

You stare back at him, progressively absorbing what he just said.

“Toye…” you echoed back.

Don nodded. You look back at Doc and Joe Toye, finally coming back down from your shock. 

As Malarkey pulled you up, Doc turned around noticing you were there.

“Hey, Y/F/N, come over here and hold this so I can wrap it up.”

You swiftly go to help Eugene, seeing Toye’s pale face as you get closer.

“Hang in there, Toye.” you say in your best reassuring tone.

~~~~~~~

That night, Corporal Penkala and Sgt. Skip Muck's foxhole took a direct hit, killing them instantly, a moment witnessed by George Luz. A dud shell also landed next to Luz and Lipton's foxhole, fortunately sparing their lives.

The eventful day the Germans provided had you and Eugene running around like crazy, following the cries of ‘medic’ in every direction. Both of you were running on steam, and you had yet to see Joe Liebgott at all since this attack began.

When the bombardment finally calmed down, it was too dark to venture out to find him. You decided the safest bet was to stay put. You would’ve heard by now if Joe had been transferred to the aid station. Or at least you hoped.

The following day, the move on the town of Foy commenced, thankfully with LT Speirs in command. As Easy company rushed the field towards the town, a sniper effectively picks off the men as they approach. The sniper is eventually taken down by a mortar and the men quickly enter Foy. With the village filled with attacking Germans, Speirs makes a suicidal run through the German front line to make contact with I Company. However, the most fascinating thing about what Speirs did wasn't that he successfully connected with I Company, but that he ran back the same way he'd gone unscathed.

~~~~~~~

After taking the town of Rachamps a few weeks later, Easy takes a much-needed rest in the solace of a local convent. The Sisters have taken the liberty of bringing in their choir to sing for soldiers. Of the 145 men that entered Bastogne, only 63 remained. After you have tended to the wounds of the soldiers that were hurt during the assault, you wander amongst the men to find your Joe.

You find Lipton and Speirs conversating in one of the aisles.

“Hey, Y/L/N, good to see ya. You doin’ ok?” Lipton asks.

You nod, “Yes sir. You?” 

“I’m just fine.” he responded softly.

You look at LT Speirs, “Sir?”

“I’m fine, Corporal.” he stated.

“You haven't seen Liebgott by chance, have you?” You ask, trying not to sound too distressed.

Lipton looked over the crowd of scattered soldiers.

“Yeah, he’s right over there. By the altar.” 

You look where he had pointed and see Joe sitting on the floor against the stone wall by himself where dozens of lit candles stood on iron stands around him. You B line to him, picking up the pace to get to him as fast as you could. As you get within ear shot you call out to him.

“Joe!” you manage to gasp.

Joe quickly looked up upon hearing your voice. His face lit up when he saw you, hastily standing up to meet you halfway. When you reached him, he enveloped you, lifting you up from the ground as he pressed you against his body.

You bury your face into the crook of his neck as happy tears began to cascade from your bloodshot eyes. Joe’s chest heaving from joy was electrifying, leaving you a melting mess in his arms while he lowered to your feet.

“I thought they got you.” you whispered through your sobs.

Joe scoffed, “Those Krauts ain’t gettin’ me.” 

He pulled away to look at your face. He used his gloved thumb to wipe your tears.

“I’m right here, Gams.” 

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a desperate kiss. His arms snake around your waist, angling his head to intensify the lock he had on your lips. You unconsciously slack your jaw, allowing his tongue to slowly run along your lower lip. Although you both were lost in this magical moment, you suddenly became aware that you were ‘necking’ in a church and thought it best to behave before you both lost complete control.

You gently pull back as Joe’s disappointment clearly appeared across his face.

“We shouldn’t have done that here.” you admit.

Joe smiled at your properness. 

“If God didn’t want it to happen in His house, He wouldn’t have let it.” Joe justified.

You raise an eyebrow and smirk at him.

“It’s inappropriate.” you countered.

“So, you’re saying if it had been right outside the church, it would’ve been fine?” he countered. 

You giggle, “Perhaps.”

Joe laughed, “Well how about we find a place to rest, and we can just cuddle up?” he compromised.

“Yes.” you agree as he pulled you by the hand to where he was sitting.

The church had provided blankets to the men, which Joe had spread out on the floor picnic style. He sat against the wall, then offered his hand for you to hold as you lowered yourself down next to him. He folded his coat, placing it on his lap for you to lay your head on. You nuzzle into him, resting the side of your face onto the coat while he combed his finger softly through your mess of hair. 

Before you drift off to sleep, over the choir singing in the background, you hear a low gravelly whisper:

“Ikh hab dir lib (y)(I love you).”

~~~~~~~

February 9th, 1945

The plan had been to relieve Easy Company and head to Mourmelon. The following morning, orders changed after Hitler launched a counteroffensive in Alsace, and you were all to help hold the line in the town of Haguenau.

As Easy began loading up on trucks for Haguenau, PVT David Webster is dropped off by a depot Jeep,

"Thanks for the lift." Webster tells the driver.

As he greeted his battered comrades, he received no welcoming glance from any of them. The air of disdain grew thick as he passed each truck. He had been sent to an aid station long before Bastogne, and their collective resentment stemmed from his long stay in the hospital and his making no effort to return quickly and rejoin the company.

You're seated next to Joe in the bed of a deuce truck, huddled into him trying to keep warm as Webster walked up.

"Hey guys, some lieutenant told me to report to 2nd." he stated gesturing with his thumb over his shoulder behind him.

He looked at one of the soldiers across from you and Liebgott.

"You're name's Jackson, right?

"That's right." Jackson replied dryly.

"Who's leading the platoon?" Webster queried.

"Sgt Malarkey is." Jackson responded.

"What? No officers?" Webster questioned.

"I guess you didn't hear." Liebgott began, "They're making Malarkey lieutenant. He's on the fast track now."

"Really? That's great." Webster noted.

"Yeah, ain't it?" Joe replied sarcastically.

"Hey, Jackson, help me up, will ya?" Webster said trhowing his gear bag up onto the bed of the truck as he hoisted himself up.

Webster sat on the bench next to Jackson, then noticed you half passed out on Joe's shoulder. He observed the medic brassard on your left arm.

"New medic?" he asked, motioning with his head towards you.

Joe looked down at you, shifting your face onto his chest as he wrapped his left arm around you to hold you steady when the truck picked up speed.

"No. She's been here since the beginning." he stated, shooting a cold glance at Webster.

"So, you came from the hospital?" Jackson asked Webster.

"Yeah."

"Must've liked that hospital, cuz, uh, we left Holland four months ago." Joe sneered.

Webster felt the bitterness, “Well I wasn’t there the whole time. There was rehabilitation, then the replacement depot-“

“-Well I’m sure you tried to bust out and help us in Bastogne.” Joe interjected.

“Well, I don’t know how I would’ve done that.” Webster defended.

“That’s funny, because Popeye found a way. So did Alley, right? Back in Holland,” Joe illustrated to Babe who was sitting on your left, “And Guarnere--”

“Yeah, where is Guarnere? He still your platoon sergeant?” Webster asked obliviously.

“No. He got hit.” Jackson answered bitterly.

The trucks arrived at Haguenau then came to a hard stop. The men started to unload from the rear. Joe gently nudged you.

“Zeit zu gehen, Liebling (g)(Time to go, darling).” Joe whispered to you.

“She speaks German, too?” Webster probed.

You strain your eyes to look at him.

“Who’s this?” you ask Joe.

“Webster.” Joe answered plainly.

“Hm, don’t you look all bright eyed and bushy tailed.” You say through a yawn.

Joe scoffed, “Yeah, had a four month furrlow, now he’s ready for war.” Joe joked.

Joe jumped from the bed of the truck, then offered his hand to you to help you down which you accepted.

“Spread out. Hold along this line ‘til I figure out where we’re going.” Malarkey called out.

“Sarge? Sarge-“ Webster approached Malarkey.

An incoming shell soared over and hit a nearby building before Malarkey could respond. An unexpecting frightened Webster dove to the ground while LT Speirs spectated in the background like a child watching a fireworks display.

“What’s the matter there, Webster? A little nervous in the service?” Malarkey teased.

~~~~~~~

Later in one of the abandoned houses of the town, Captain Speirs and LT Lipton were setting the place up as Command Post. Lipton had been fighting off pneumonia since you left Rachamps and was looking rather rough. You and Eugene had been hounding him since to take it easy, but he has chosen to keep pushing through for the men.

“Sir, pneumonia has killed people with rest. You keep pushin’ yourself like this you’re gonna die.” You lecture him, “Luz, go grab the man a blanket, will ya?”

You call out to George as you guide him back down onto the couch.

“I’ll be alright, Y/L/N.” Lipton assurred.

“Sgt Lipton? Feeling all right?” Webster’s voice carried through the room.

You look up, slightly annoyed, “Look at him. He’s got pneumonia, does he look all right?” you hiss.

“Sorry to hear that.” Webster replied.

“What are you sorry about?” Luz said as he threw a wool blanket over Lipton, “He’s alive, he’s got a couch, a goddamn blanket. He’s snug as a bug.”

“Well, if the man would stay off his feet and keep warm...maybe eat something, he may actually recover.” You state firmly.

Lipton sighed, “I promise I will try harder to take it easy, Y/F/N.”

You hum is disbelief as you try to start a fire in the fireplace to heat some soup for him.

"You fuckin' Italians think you can solve everything with food." Luz said outloud.

You glare over your shoulder at him.

"Non vengo pagata abbastanza per essere tua madre (i)(I don't get paid enough to be your mother)." you mumble under your breath.

Luz's face twisted with confusion, "Huh?"

"Nothin'." you reply curtly.

“Have a seat Webster, I’ll help you get situated.” Lipton said pointing to the chair nearest to him.

Webster observed you by the fireplace.

“So, you Liebgott’s girl?” Webster inquired.

You start the fire and hang a tin cup with water and broth above it before you respond.

“What if I am?”

He stared back in shock.

“Just wonderin’.”

“You got a lot to say, don’tchya? A little advice, David Webster, quit asking these guys so many questions about who went where. Don’t make them relive all their losses so soon. Got it?” you say with spitfire behind your voice.

Webster’s jaw fell open while his eyes widened.

“Um, yeah. Got it.” He uttered.

You give him one last look over and leave the room.

Upon your return, a replacement officer arrived while Captain Speirs moved about the room shuffling through some papers he had snatched from Lipton’s hands.

“Listen, for chrissake, will ya go back in the back and sack out? There’s beds back there with fresh sheets.” Speirs ordered Lipton before he could say anything.

“THANK YOU, SIR.” You project across the room to the Captain, “I guess it takes a direct order from the CO to get you to do what me and Doc been askin' you to do for days.” You assert with exasperation.

Lipton shot you a frustrated expression, “I will, sir, I was just tryin’ to make myself useful, sir.”

~~~~~~~

Another abandoned building was designated as barracks for the companies occupying the town. Floors that were able to bare weight, had bunks lining the walls in each room. You had a single bed to yourself that was conveniently arranged where the headboard of your bed met Liebgott’s bottom bunk. You lay on Joe’s bed briefly to rest your eyes.

The new officer, LT Jones, entered the room to let Malarkey know that at 0100, a mission was to commence across the river to obtain POW’s for interrogation. After Jones took Malarkey aside to go over a few details, Liebgott took Webster to the bunks to get the information out of him.

“Hey, Web. Come here, I wanna talk to you for a second.”

“Why??” Webster asked alarmed.

“You want some coffee?”

“No.” Webster replied quickly, paranoid by Joe’s sudden act of kindness.

Joe looked at Jackson, “Fifteen.”

“Fifteen what?” Jackson asked.

“Looeys since D-Day,” Joe replied, “This kid out of high school yet?”

Joe asked looking at LT Jones talking to Malarkey by the window.

“West Point.” Webster replied.

“Isn’t that where Ike went?” Jackson asked.

“He actually graduated with his son.” Webster clarified.

“Shit. So, uh, what do you know about this patrol thing?” Joe interrogated Webster.

You sat up from Joe’s bunk.

“Patrol?” you asked, somewhat panicked.

“Uh, nothing.” Webster lied.

“Oh, come on, I know you know something.” Ramirez pushed.

“I don’t!” Webster insisted.

Joe spit at the floor, “Bullshit. You were there, right? At the CP. This is a prisoner snatch, right? Come on, Webster. Spill it.” Joe pressured.

You shifted onto the side of the mattress to hear better.

“Capt Speirs is to pick fifteen men. LT Jones wants to be one of them.”

“I say let the kid go. He could use the experience.” Joe said with a cynical smile.

“Probably could find fourteen replacements to help him out.” Ramirez added.

“Who’s going?” You chime in, asking Webster, “I assume they need a translator and a medic.”

“I don’t know who.” he replied.

You roll your eyes at him.

“Why are you holding out on me? I know you know-” Joe accused Webster, “Who?”

Webster hesitated, “Well, if I tell you, you can’t let anyone know I let you know.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, Web. Who is it?” Joe urged.

Webster paused, “Heffron-“

“Oh, shit.” Babe huffed.

“-McClung, and Ramirez.” He ended.

“He want any other guys from any other platoon?” Joe asked.

“No. I don’t know. Not that I know of. That’s all I know, I’m sorry.”

~~~~~~~

“2nd Platoon, on me!” Malarkey called right outside the shower tents that were set up for the soldiers to finally have a proper hot shower.

The men form up around him.

“All right, I’m leading this patrol. CO wants Grant, Liebgott, Wynn, Jackson, Shifty from 3rd platoon, and Webster.” He relayed.

“They don’t want anyone from first?” Cobb asked.

“No.”

“Is there anyone they don’t want from 2nd Platoon? Jesus Christ-” Joe expressed sarcastically rolling his eyes, “It’s always 2nd Platoon. I swear to God, if we were down to three guys, they’d still want us for it.”

Joe trudged off towards the showers.

You run after Malarkey, “Malark, they didn’t say anything about bringing a medic?”

“Those were the only names they gave me, Y/L/N.” he replied wryly.

“Maybe you can suggest I come with-“

“Y/F/N, those are the names. I’m sure there’s a reason they’re not sending you or Doc.” he barked.

You coward back slightly, trying not to push the subject any further.

He softened his demeanor realizing he was overreacting some, “I know you wanna be there, but we can’t afford to lose more people, let alone medics. Especially good ones. Get it?” he explained as warmly as he could muster.

“Ya, sarge, I understand.” You reply with a weak smile.

He gave you an encouraging nod and walked to the shower tent. You realized you were about to be surround by dozens of naked men and should probably head back to the bunks before you see too much.

~~~~~~~

Back at CP, Luz was unpacking what looked to be dozens of chocolate bars and candies sent from the Post Exchange from Stateside. His Easy Company brothers progressively encircling him like vultures trying to convince him to share as he counted them to record for inventory.

“Goddamn it, Johnny, you’re breaking my heart, I’m telling ya!” Luz started.

“Come on, George, just give me, I don’t know, 10, 15 bars.” Martin begged.

Luz slammed down a small pack of gum on the surface of the table, “Here, Juicy Fruit! Happy?”

Another soldier walked in behind Cobb and Martin, “Just got report of movement. 1st Sergeant Lipton wants you to lay a few bazooka rounds into a house across the river.”

“You’d think we’d get just one Hershey bar-“ Martin complained disregarding the soldier’s report.

“Come on, Luz, you’re 1st platoon at heart.” Cobb pushed.

“Jesus, Cobb, there’s not enough-“ Luz explained.

Liebgott entered the room with you right behind him. Webster and LT Jones entered not too long after you.

“Whoa, Hershey bars!!” Joe exclaimed.

“Where!?” you ask trying to look over Joe’s shoulder on your tiptoes.

Luz rolled his eyes, “Jesus Christ!”

“Wait your turn Liebgott, Y/L/N.” Cobb commanded.

“Yeah, yeah, who they for?” Liebgott dismissed.

“Not you! Not even for Y/F/N!” Luz established sternly.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “I am offended, George! Have I not taken care of you when you needed it?”

“Yeah, and so has Doc but I don’t see him in here asking for handouts.” He replied.

“Oh, come on, George, one bar for me and Y/F/N, we’ll share one.” Joe pushed.

“No! There’s not enough to go around!” Luz claimed.

“Hey, big mouth, give the kid a Hershey bar.” A familiar voice projected across the room.

Everyone looked up and saw Frank Perconte back from the aid station after receiving a bullet by the Germans in his left buttocks.

The guys laughed collectively.

“You gotta be shittin’ me!” Luz said with a wide smile.

“Look who it is!” Joe added.

“What’s up guys? I like what you did with the place, George.” Perconte jested.

“Yeah, yeah, I did good. How you feelin’?”

“As long as you keep your hands off my ass, I’ll be fine.”

Luz chuckled, “Here have a Hershey.”

He tossed a candy bar across the room to Frank.

“He gets a fuckin’ Hershey bar?” Joe protested.

“Well, he got shot in the ass!” Luz retorted.

Martin walked over to Perconte, “Did I tell you to stick your big ass out in the wind?”

“No! But I expect a little sympathy from you, right?” Frank repsonded.

“Yeah, should I rub it for ya?” Martin teased trying to spank his left butt cheek.

Perconte quickly shuffled to the side, “Get the fuck outta here!”

“Can you believe this guy? I try to get him out of the fuckin’ war, he comes straight back!” Martin stated.

“Yeah, well, that’s not what I heard. I heard the Krauts are finished.” Frank said.

“Yeah, well, just to make sure, we gotta row across the fucking river tonight, grab a few, and ask them in person.” Joe explained.

Frank’s disappointment surfaced across his face.

“Ya kidding me?”

Joe shook his head, “Wish I was. Welcome back, Frank.”

~~~~~~~

At 1700 back at CP later that day, a briefing was to be held by Capt Winters about the upcoming patrol for that night. The soldiers listed on the roster to go sat around a long dining room oak table with LT Jones standing awkwardly off to the side.

With Capt Speirs’ and Lipton’s permission, you also attended the briefing, standing across the room where you had a clear view of Joe sitting at the head of the table. You could see the guys secretly whispering their opinions to eachother about LT Jones leading the mission instead of Malarkey.

“No way. Not on his first day.” Grant stated.

Joe rubbed his bottom lip thoughtfully, “Well, do you see any other officer here?”

Webster, standing behind Joe’s chair, crossed his arms, then looked at Lt Jones sympatheticlly, knowing the frustrations of being doubted for being “the new guy.” Another handful of Easy soldiers entered the room.

“Who’s in charge of this bullshit?” one of them asked. He looked over his shoulder at LT Jones. “No he ain’t.” he determined outwardly.

“Well, if he ain’t, it’s you, Chuck. Or Shifty, or Mo.” Babe asserted.

“Well, that would be better.” Joe appended.

You feel your stomach twist into knots at his words. And as if he felt your anxiousness, he shifted his attention to you, meeting your gaze across the room. He gave you his signature infectious Liebgott grin, and you couldn't help but smile back.

“Ten-hut!” Jones called out to bring the room to attention as Captain Winters walked into the room.

“At ease.” Winters instructed the men.

Winters explained that they were to cross the river in four rubber boats with LT Jones, the ranking officer will go along as an observer. Sergeant Martin was to lead the patrol in Malarkey’s place. He assured the guys that the battalion will be covering their withdrawal with the POW’s, and were to utilize the whistles provided to signal to them to blast the outpost after they’ve safely returned to the boats.

“Remember, it’s about prisoners,” Winters reiterated firmly, “-Don’t pop the first thing that moves.”

Winters flashed a brief glance at Liebgott before continuing.

“Clear?”

The men mutually responded, “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Picked your assault team?” he asked Martin.

“McClung, Liebgott, Sisk, Cobb, Garcia, and Webster, as translator. The rest of you guys, a base of fire with Sergeant Grant. You speak German, right, Webster?”  Martin bellowed at Webster across the table.

“Yeah, a little bit.” Webster replied meekly.

Not before wishing his men good luck, Winters made his exit.

“A little German?” Joe began, “-his German’s as good as mine. And Y/F/N’s.”

Joe motioned with his head towards you. You look at the floor somewhat flattered, but also frustrated that two soldiers who speak German would be going on this mission when they really only needed one. This thought had you pushing down angry tears.

Coincidently, Webster had the same thoughts.

As you file outside with the guys out of CP, you immediately head back to the barracks so Joe wouldn't see you upset before he left. Webster approached Capt Winters, Capt Speirs, Martin, and LT Jones.

“Sir?”

“Yes?” Winters acknowledged.

“Liebgott and I, we both speak German. You said fifteen men, there’s sixteen of us, including two translators.” Webster elluded.

“Well, fine,” Speirs began, “Hey, Liebgott. You wanna sit this one out?”

Joe’s obvious elation displayed on his face, “Yes, sir,” he looked at Web, “Thanks, buddy!”

~~~~~~~

I’m dedicating this chapter to my lovelies @wordsaresimple-imnot @mrs-greenside @skiesofrosie @yourspeirs for sharing and fueling my everlasting enthusiasm of BoB

❤️🪖♠️🦅