#perconte's a small man

[balladofthe101st]

perconte being small and looking over ramirez and penkala's shoulder so he could see col. sink

[bloodstainedsaint]

the sniper (joseph liebgott x sniper! reader)

summary: when you transferred from dog company to easy company following the battle of bloody gulch, you thought you knew what to expect of men in the military— though you really wanted joe liebgott to prove you wrong

word count: just over 3500

warnings: period-typical sexism & misogyny (big part of the story), very minor violence, denying feelings, mutual pining, reader lowkey has trust issues, full of other characters but hopefully no one's ooc?? also this fic is kinda messy 😭

notes: happy thanksgiving! enjoy this fic for the holidays 💞 also your favs AREN'T sexist, just confused

Gossip, you realized, was an easy way to kill time for the men of the military, especially with the recent news that there would be a transfer to Easy Company— the transfer being you, of course. You had no idea you were such a hot topic until you walked down a street of Aldbourne in search of the man currently in charge of your new company, Lieutenant Winters, and overheard a trio of soldiers discussing rumors as they sat around awaiting orders.

“Hey, have you heard that there’s a transfer coming from D-Company?” one said, lighting a cigarette.

“Whew, he must’ve not taken any smokes from Lieutenant Sparky, huh, Don?” another chuckled, stealing the cigarette out of who you guessed was Don’s fingers and puffing for emphasis, much to Don’s displeasure.

Huffing, Don continued, “He’s a sniper, apparently! Better than Shifty!”

“Nah, no one’s better than Shifty,” the third butted in. “Shifty can shoot you right between the eyes blindfolded.”

“Shifty would deny that ‘til he died, Penk,” said the second with a smile.

“It’s true, Skip! Apparently he tracked a target from 1,000 yards away and still got him in the head! Bang! Just like that,” Don said while he mimicked holding a rifle and firing.

“Psh, our boy Shifty could do that, or better: 2,000 yards, right?” Skip nudged Penk with his shoulder.

Penk shrugged. “Length don’t matter, anyway. It’s what you do with the gun, not how far it shoots.”

Skip and Don shared a look and grinned, the latter joking, “Don’t you mean distance, Alex? What, you insecure about something?”

The trio devolved into laughter and banter, but was suddenly quieted as Don patted the others and pointed at you approaching. Several other men standing nearby swiveled their heads to watch as well.

A woman dressed in fatigues, the shoulder of her uniform emblazoned with the Screaming Eagles patch, a M1 Garand slung around her back— they couldn't seem to get their mind around it. Disregarding their curious stares (you’d gotten a lot of them for the past two years or so that you've been enlisted), you walked past the group of spectators.

A couple of men whistled lowly, and a murmur spread through the small crowd. You stopped in your tracks for a moment, eyes downward in thought. Surely one of these men knows where Lieutenant Winters is. You turned on your heel toward the group.

“Afternoon,” you addressed the onlookers, who were now either standing up or gathering around in interest. Your eyes went from man to man, meeting inquisitive and suspicious stares alike, unfazed. “Anyone know where I can find Lieutenant Winters?”

“You, uh, you lost?” a diminutive man — Perconte, his name tag read — asked.

One with a strict face and a glower already etched into it — Martin — stepped into the scattered group. “Who’s asking?”

“Private (Y/N), sir,” you said with a quick salute that was returned. “I’m transferring from Dog Company to Easy Company. I was told to look for a Lieutenant Winters.”

The men exchanged a look amongst each other.

The man from earlier, Don, spoke up with awe apparent in his voice. “You’re a sniper?”

You turned to him with a curt nod. “Yes, I’m a sharpshooter.”

Then a lanky, scrappy-looking guy, Liebgott, entered with a smirk tugging upon his lips. Just by looking at his crooked smile and raised eyebrows, you knew he was going to cause you trouble. Just another man ogling at you like you're nothing but a pretty face. What else is new? “You need help getting around base?”

“No thank you, that won’t be necessary,” you swiftly rebuffed, turning your attention back to the rest of the men. You set them with an expectant look.

“You can find Lieutenant Winters over there at CP,” Randleman, a large red-headed man, said around a hefty cigar in his mouth, nodding his head in the tent’s direction. “If he’s not there, try the mess cabin.”

With a small smile, grateful that someone finally answered your question instead of asking more of them, you thanked him, saluted, and walked off.

As you started towards CP, you heard behind your back, “Did Roosevelt change something while we were overseas? ‘Cause I just saw a lady wearing paratrooper clothing with a rifle ‘round her back.”

“Very astute, George,” someone replied.

You could almost hear the smirk in Liebgott’s voice as he declared, “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“Yeah, come back alive,” another voice — Skip, maybe — chimed in. “Speirs might’ve rubbed off on her.”

You only had a few seconds to mentally prepare yourself before you heard footsteps catching up behind you. Liebgott was now walking side by side with you, matching your brisk pace.

“Hey, (Y/N), right?”

You took a sidelong glance at him. “That’s right.”

“Joseph D. Liebgott. Technician 5th-Grade.”

“And is there a reason why you’re following me to CP, Liebgott?”

“Thought I’d show you around base, get to know you a little.”

“And I thought I declined your assistance,” you said firmly. “I was part of Dog Company; I'm not new around here.”

“Alright, how about introducing you to Easy men when you’re finished?” He threw a smile your way. “They’re curious about you.”

You slightly grimaced at the thought of being at the center of attention for so many strangers. “I’d rather not.”

“Why? They’re great guys. I don’t know about Dog Company men and their Lieutenant Speirs, but Easy men, especially Toccoa men, are different.”

They don’t seem all that different to me. You gripped the strap of your gun a little tighter. “Once again, I’ll pass.”

He shrugged. “You’ll warm up to us.”

A tense silence ensued. You did your best to not seem bothered by it. Usually by this point people gave up and stopped talking to you entirely.

“So, uh,” he began, running his hands through his hair. Of course you weren’t getting rid of him that easily. Your intuition earlier was right. “Why’re you transferring over to Easy? No offense, but we've got a helluva marksman already.”

“I wasn’t given a reason, just an order.”

“That so? Well, maybe you’ll take his place as our resident sniper, huh?”

“Looking forward to it,” you responded drily.

He chuckled. “You’ll fit right into Easy with the rest of the snarkers. Where you from, (Y/N)?”

You eyed him cautiously. “Lansing, Michigan.”

“Get outta here, you serious? I'm from there too!” Liebgott cracked a smile and gazed at you. “Man, I might’ve seen you around and just haven’t realized it. Could've been talking to you years ago.”

You pursed your lips. “It wouldn't have helped your chances, Liebgott.”

Grinning, he said, undaunted, “What chances? We're just talking. I wanna know the lady I’ll be fighting with.”

“You just want to know if I’m single or not. That’s all,” you icily said as the two of you neared the tent.

Apparently found out, Liebgott smiled broadly and stopped a few feet from CP while you continued walking. “Well, are you?”

You turned to face him. “Yes, I’m single, and no, I’m not interested in sleeping with you.”

You couldn’t see the smile melt off his face as you entered the tent, eyes searching amongst all the men and equipment for the tall soldier you’ve seen conversing with Lieutenant Speirs before.

“Private (Y/N),” a voice called. You looked in its direction and finally found Winters.

“Lieutenant Winters.” You saluted.

“You’re the new transfer, right?” he asked, beckoning you further into the tent for some privacy. You were thankful that most of the men here were too occupied with their own duties to notice you.

You followed him to a quiet corner. “Yes, sir.”

“Met the men yet?”

“Some of them.”

“Anyone give you trouble?” he asked gently. “You can tell me.”

You paused, thinking. Nothing past some inquisitive stares and a couple of questions. “No, sir.”

Winters perceived your hesitation. “If that changes, tell me. They're good men, but they might be a bit eager to meet you.”

You nodded. Liebgott certainly was. He analyzed your face for a second before continuing, “Try to get yourself acquainted at dinner before you go into combat with them. That’ll be all, Private.”

You saluted, knowing full well that you’ll most likely try to get a seat by yourself, away from the clamor of the men.

“Thank you, sir.”

-

It turned out that no seat was good enough to escape the onslaught of questions.

You had gotten there early and took a seat at the far end of one of the tables with a book in hand and not much of an appetite. Unfortunately for you, being one of the first ones there instead of a head in a crowd of people singled you out, and eventually you were surrounded by men wanting to know more.

“Hey, this is the new replacement I’ve been hearing so much about, yeah?” Bill Guarnere, or Wild Bill, as they called him, questioned, shoving himself into one of the seats at your table.

“Transfer, Gonorrhea, not a replacement,” Liebgott said from your side. When he had entered the mess cabin, you had attempted to hide yourself with your book, but to no avail. He had beelined toward you, beaming ear to ear as he slid into the seat next to you.

“You into books?” he said, eyes going from you to the book in your hands.

You thought that he might actually surprise you.“Yeah, are you?”

He scoffed lightheartedly. “What, you kidding? I love to read!”

A ghost of a smile graced your face. “What kind?”

“Oh, you know, Dick Tracy, Flash Gordon, mostly!” he said, seemingly proud of himself, and your smile disappeared.

Soon after that, people swarmed your table. If you were being fair, though, Liebgott had spoken for you for most of the night, making sure you could read in relative peace. If you didn't know any better, you’d say that he was just enjoying you being by his side, but you were still wary of any underlying intentions (let’s say, getting into your pants) he might have.

Yet, out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the way he looked at you from time to time with a small smile upturning his lips, and you wanted to believe he didn't have any.

“Transfer, replacement, whatever,” Bill brushed it off with a wave of his hand. “What I wanna know is—”

“—why she’s a girl?” Liebgott finished. “Jeez, I dunno, she’s only been asked this twelve times tonight.”

“If you’d let me finish,” Bill said with a pointed look at Liebgott as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, “I was gonna ask if she did shoot a Kraut from 1,000 yards away.”

“You’d be giving ole Shifty a real run for his money, ain't that right, Shift?” Joe — the other one, Joe Toye — said from beside Bill, reaching over to another table and shaking one of the guys there.

Shifty, you assumed, looked over and met your eyes with a kind smile. “No, no, I’m sure she's a better shot than me. Y'all give me too much credit.”

“That’s what being humble will get ya.” Bill chuckled and puffed from his cigarette. “Your spot as Easy’s best shot out from under ya.”

The table laughed, and you steeled yourself before uttering in a quiet, yet steady voice, “It was two men.”

A hush descended over the table. Liebgott turned to look at you. “What?”

“Two men. I dropped the first. The other one heard and started running. I dropped him next. Both in the head,” you relayed, without the humor of a storyteller but the gravity of a historian. You didn't know it, but you had a stony look in your eye.

Luckily, you were saved from the stunned silence by a man getting up and reciting a poem, but you could feel Liebgott’s eyes burning into you. With fear? Admiration? You weren’t sure, but you didn't dare look over.

-

Joe Liebgott was nothing if not persistent. For months now, he'd been lingering around you, flirting and striking up conversations with you. To be honest, you never outright said for him to stop (besides that one time in the very beginning when you said you weren’t interested), so you guessed he wasn't overstepping any boundaries.

Still, he seemed determined to get you into his bed.

“C’mon, I think we’d look cute together!”

“That’s what you think, Joe,” George said, squatting next to his friend, “Giving her heart eyes and all. Meanwhile, she looks at you like you're her next target.”

Brushing his teeth, Frank followed the other two’s gaze across the road, where you were happily talking with Bull and Shifty. He spat out the toothpaste residue on the ground beside him and said, counting on his fingers, “Seems like the only people she gives the time of day to are Shifty, Bull, Doc Roe, even Webster.”

“Who, if you'll notice,” George said, gesturing with a cigarette between his fingers, “are all quiet, reserved, well-mannered people. You, on the other hand, got a loud mouth and, uh, what’s it called, Frank?”

“A short fuse,” Frank supplied.

“Yeah, a short fuse. She probably thinks you’re trying to get into bed with her, in which case, you're shit outta luck.”

Frank said, shaking his head, “Scary, that girl. With her rifle and that look in her eyes.”

Liebgott exhaled. “But I’m not tryna just sleep with her! I even gave her some of my favorite comics ‘cause I knew she likes to read.”

“Yeah, real books, Joe— that's why she gets along with Webster!” Frank exclaimed. “You sure you didn't give her the pornos?”

George laughed. “That'd give her the wrong impression.”

Liebgott narrowed his eyes as you giggled at something Shifty said. “You’re right, maybe she doesn't like me.”

Standing up, George sighed and snuffed out his cigarette. “That’s not the point, Joe. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“Yeah, like I’m her next target? You told me already.”

“No,” George said with an exaggerated eye roll, “like she wants more outta you. ‘Cause all she's getting is the impression that you wanna fuck her.”

Liebgott stood up as well, still watching as you laughed with Bull and Shifty. George and Frank patted him on the back.

“She’s all yours, buddy,” Frank assured with a sympathetic smile. “She makes heart eyes at you too.”

-

There were only a handful of women selected to serve outside of something like a nurse’s position; you just so happened to be one of them, most likely because of your experience with a rifle. So, you’d gotten used to the lustful ways some men would watch you, or the demeaning ways they would taunt you. You guessed almost all of them had never seen a woman with a combat position in the military before (or by the way some of them acted, ever spoken to a woman at all).

But such men only assumed that you had earned your jump wings by sleeping around with officers. They assumed that they should be able to get in on it too, or that they should condemn you for something you didn't even do, for being unworthy and unskilled all because you were a woman.

It had always been a difficult pill to swallow: your military career would be littered with scathing remarks and crude comments, and you’d have to be strictly professional or closed-off with most men lest you’d be seen as a whore rather than just “scary”. But the hardest fact to accept was the fact that Liebgott, for all the kindness he had shown you, all the times he talked to you like you were a human being— that he most likely had the same intentions as everyone else.

As much as you relished his company, his crooked smile, his jokes, his lingering touches (and as much as you had to pretend you didn't), you had to accept his end goal was for you to warm his bed. And sure, maybe he was more dogged with his efforts than other men were, and maybe your friends in the company had told you that he was a genuine guy, but you just couldn't believe that he had anything else in mind when it came to you.

Maybe all the criticisms thrown your way had affected you more than you thought.

With the success of Operation Pegasus, Bull had dragged you (not literally, though you’re sure he could've) into a pub in the Netherlands for some celebratory drinking.

You didn't drink, and you disliked pubs; the smell of booze and drunken people was often overpowering, but at least you found quiet company with Bull. Across the room from your table, you saw Liebgott staring at you with a smile and a drink in his hand. It seemed as though he had noticed you the second you entered.

“It’s alright if I leave you alone for a second, little lady?” Bull said, chewing on a cigar like usual. “You'll be fine?”

“Sure, Bull. Go enjoy yourself.”

The large man smiled and patted you on the back before leaving to talk to some of the other men in the company.

Not one to mingle, you were only a few pages into your book when you caught the attention of an intoxicated soldier.

“Look who it is,” Cobb said to himself, hardly standing upright. You recognized his voice, seeing as this wasn’t the first time he’s derided you. “Ms. 1,000 Yards, huh. Bet the officers over at Dog Company only made up that story so it looks like you had some use.”

You ground your teeth. Typically, if you didn't give someone like him the satisfaction of an answer, they’d leave you alone. Why defend yourself and give people another word to call you: bitchy?

“What's a woman got to do in the military anyway?” Bottle in hand, he shambled towards you. “Besides suck the dicks of the men who are actually fighting.”

Steadying your uneven breath, you tried to look behind him to find Liebgott, but his body blocked your view.

Taking another swig, he spat, “That why they transferred you over from Dog Company? Those boys got their fill of you and passed you onto us, huh? Fuckin’ good for nothing slut.”

“What the fuck did you just say to her?” You heard Liebgott’s voice and felt relief wash over you.

Cobb turned around, and you caught a glimpse of an incensed Liebgott, a fierce glint to his eyes.

“Tell me what you just said to her.”

“Oh, please, Joe, you trying to get her to suck your cock faster—”

He was interrupted by a fist flying his way, toppling the inebriated man. Liebgott got on top of him and began trading punches before the surrounding men, drawn by the commotion, tried to pull him off of Cobb.

Your eyes were blown wide as you stood there, speechless. Bull found you and pulled you by the arm out of the pub.

“But what about Liebgott?” you said, peering behind you.

Bull shrugged and did the same. “Seems like he was winning anyway.”

That night in your billet, all you could think about was the fury that twisted Liebgott’s face into one you only saw on the battlefield.

And it was all for you.

-

The next day, you searched for Liebgott at breakfast, the table feeling a bit more empty without him taking up his normal spot beside you, but he had found you first, as he usually did.

“Hey, (Y/N), can I talk to you for a sec?” he said, his hand on your shoulder. You turned around in your seat and were met with a slightly bruised Liebgott, a small cut across his nose. Concern filling your chest, you nodded, and his hand held your wrist as he led you out of the mess hall.

“So, uh, about last night,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes searched yours for how you felt about him bringing it up, but he found no hints in your unreadable expression. “I’m sorry for fighting Cobb for you. You're a strong woman, you could handle him yourself—”

Smiling at his uncharacteristic hesitance, you cut his apology short with a peck on the cheek. You pulled away and saw his temporary surprise.

“Thank you, Joe. I appreciated you standing up for me. It means a lot.”

His face broke into the widest beam you've ever seen.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked eagerly, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could even process what they were. “Shit, sorry, that was too soon—”

You answered his question by tenderly holding his bruised face with your hands and bringing his lips to yours. You could feel him grin into the kiss as he pulled you closer, and your heart just about melted.

Maybe you had gotten Joe Liebgott all wrong from the start.

“Great, he’s never gonna wash that cheek again!”

-

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

[juniperss]

Just Looking Out

Bill Guarnere x Reader

Warnings:  harassment from a stranger, super predictable plot and cliche so be prepared for that, it’s long. lots of fluff at the end. Protective Bill 

A/N: This was originally written on my main account a few years ago but I decided to move it here since I don't change this URL as often and it makes easier to find my writing! Also It's been a while since I wrote these so I'd like to think that I've improved somewhat since then!

Bill watched as you led the way through the soldier filled bar towards the small booth in the back that was currently half occupied with various members of Easy Company. The ones that weren't dancing with strangers or mingling around the bar that is. He could see the game of darts unfolding across the way between Buck and Babe, the ribbing and cheers carrying over the other sounds. He wondered briefly how you were able to weave so expertly through the crowds, but any remark about it was forgotten when you glanced over your shoulder as you checked to ensure he was still there before smiling excitedly at him.

"Guarnere! Doc!"

Floyd greeted the two of you loudly, the mug of beer in his hand sloshing. He wasn't drunk...yet, but his large smile and enthusiastic conversation that he resumed with Shifty and one of the replacements hinted that he wasn't too far off from that goal.  Time to relax and have fun was few and far between during the chaos that surrounded the world right now, so much so that it was easy to forget how young you all were. And that there was much to life to enjoy. Such as watching your friends drink a bit too much while leaning into the back of a rather uncomfortable booth and sipping on your own beer. Bill was beside you now, his shoulder bumping into yours occasionally, as stories about training made their way into the conversation sparking groans, laughter, and many a question from the replacements on how bad Sobel had truly been.

"I'm gonna get another drink even if I'll regret it in the morning." 

You quipped as you scooted out of the booth and nodded your head towards the bar. You were able to easily make your way to your destination as the once large crowd had dispersed more evenly throughout the bar as the evening grew later.  Leaning against the bar you waited for your drink you surveyed the room with ease. The dancing had wound down leaving a handful of couples swaying slowly. The music playing from the radio was familiar and calming, with a steady beat that made it achingly romantic.  Meanwhile the game of darts had changed players but was still going strong between Toye and Perconte. You bit back a smile at the sight. A cough at your shoulder startled you, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as you turned your head quickly.

"Whoa there, dove!" 

The man was unfamiliar to you, dressed in civilian clothes with a mop of dark brown hair and scruff that was definitely not paratrooper regulation. Instinctively you moved to the left in an attempt to put some distance between the two of you assuming he had merely needed to place an order.

"Didn't mean to scare the pretty lady."

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from replying and continued to stare straight ahead watching the dart competition continue. Ignoring unwanted attention wasn't new to you especially in your time training. Being apart of Easy Company hadn't been easy, but you'd learned when to bite your tongue and when it was the right time to stand up for yourself.

"Lemme pay for your drink, to make up for the scare." It wasn't a question and that only made the offer more annoying to you. As if you had given any indication that you were looking for an advance from him or any form of conversation. After a deep exhale you turned to face him. He was even closer than he had been a moment ago, the gap that you had placed between the two of you now gone.

"No, thank you. I'm here with my friends."

The man glanced towards the direction of Guarnere and the rest of the gang at the table, eying the uniforms before looking back at you. His eyes sparkled in determination at the mention of what he presumed to be a challenge.

"They don't seem to be missing you too much. Share a drink with me and maybe you won't miss them either."

This time the offer made your stomach turn and despite your best efforts you felt a prickle of familiar fear and discomfort creep through you. Sure soldiers made comments, often times very rude ones that cut, but you had been fortunate that your company seemed to appreciate you for the most part. Easy Company seemed especially protective and respectful of you. It was jarring to not have that respect from a stranger 

"Really, I'm fine. Thank you." 

As if the heavens had parted the bartender finally pushed your drink towards you, your escape now gifted to you as if on cue. But as you reached for the cup the man grasped your wrist. Once again instinct worked faster than your mind and in one fluid motion you yanked your arm way pulling the glass towards you in the process. It shattered loudly on the ground, glass and beer spraying across the floor. 

"Been a while since a man touched you?"

His fingers were still around your wrist but the grip had tightened after your initial pull away. His words alone were enough to make you want to scream for him to leave you alone, but it was the look in his eye just about sent you over the edge into full panic. 

"You better fuckin' let her go." 

Bill was behind you and then suddenly he was between the man and you, his large hand coming to grab the man's arm. Bill Guarnere was eerily calm and somehow that was more terrifying then if he was yelling. You watched as his grip tightened and the man's grip on your wrist loosened under Bill's pressure. 

Apparently the scene of the drink crashing to the ground had gained the attention of not only Bill, but the rest of the soldiers. Buck was stalking across the room in your direction while you could see that Toye had followed Bill up to the bar. The man, sensing that he was clearly out numbered finally released your wrist and began to back up.

  But Bill didn't let go of his arm. His knuckles were white and you would visibly see the pain of his grip flash across the victim's face. 

"Nah, you're not goin' anywhere. Apologize to her." 

The man's mouth fell open slightly as he glanced between you and Bill as if he didn't understand the command, as if apologizing for crossing the line with a woman was a foreign idea. But Bill didn't budge and as the other soldiers seemed to begin to swarm, the man finally relented. "Sorry." The apology was choked, either because the words hurt to say or because Bill's grip was getting more painful (perhaps a mixture of both). As soon as his arm was released the man was gone, retreating to the other side of the bar to where a group of locals parted to let him lick his wounds in the dark corner. 

Sensing that the situation was resolved Buck and Toye nodded to Bill and you before returning to their tables leaving the two of you standing amidst the broken glass and beer. "Let's go, doll," his voice was hushed just for you and you felt the way his hand ghosted your lower back, "we can go." You allowed him to steer you out of the bar, the same way you had easily guided him through the crowd earlier that evening which suddenly seemed ages ago. 

Silence hung between the two of you and  you both inhaled the sharp fall air outside. The moon was bright providing enough light to see the path back to your lodgings easily. Bill's hand never left your lower back, yet didn't touch you, as you began to walk slowly. There was no urgency to your movements and you settled into a comfortable rhythm. "...thanks, Bill."

He scoffed. Not in a dismissive manner or in a mocking way, but rather in a way that would suggest he was waving off your thanks. "You could've handled it. I knew that when I stepped in. I was just....furious." 

"You didn't look it. It was kind of scary actually." 

This time he smiled, glancing down at you. When Bill got angry he was a rough and tumble kind of man. He used his words and his fists to get his point across, to defend the honor of his loved ones before his own. It was rare that you saw his silent anger and as you had said, it was a bit more scary than one would believe. 

"Still. Thank you for rescuing me." You gently jabbed his side with your elbow causing the both of you to laugh. One time when you'd first met he had made the mistake of attempting to rescue you from a situation that he had no business in and accidently gotten a bruised lip from you in return. Once again silence washed over the two of you, more comfortable than before. It didn't take long before you'd reached the house you were being quartered in. It was a small cottage owned by an elderly couple who reminded you of the couple back home in the states who watched all the neighborhood children with a careful and protective eye.

"Doll?" 

You glanced at him when he used the pet name you'd grown accustomed to. Grown to love, really. His fingers traced the bone of your wrist, as if to chase away the memories of the strangers grasp on you. His fingertips were calloused but his touch was surprisingly gentle in contrast, warm too. Without thinking you stepped closer chasing the feeling. 

"Goodnight..." 

His words seemed to fail him in that moment. Whatever words he had planned on saying hanging in the space between you as if suspended by an invisible string, swaying back in forth just out of reach of either of you being able to grab them in time. Yet you both knew what they were. You took another step forward, still following his touch on your wrist, his fingers now having completely encompassed it. The tenderness of his hand and of his eyes drawing you in closer and closer until you felt your chest against his.

Slowly, so slowly Bill leaned down to kiss you. Part of you had expected rough lips and strong eagerness, but instead you were met with rough lips and curious seeking behind his kiss. A curiosity that seemed to only been fed as he dropped your wrist and moved to cup your cheeks with both of his hands. Warmth coursed through your body, your mind full of fluff and your heart racing wildly. You could feel his own heart pounding against his chest through yours.

 And just as slowly as the kiss began, he moved away.

"Goodnight, Bill."

[donovanlizzie]

IN THE MIDNIGHT HOUR - RON SPEIRS

In the bitter cold of Bastogne, where the biting wind seemed to cut through the thin army issued uniforms, Easy Company huddled in foxholes, seeking refuge from the relentless onslaught of winter. She sat among them, bundled up in layers of gear alongside her comrades.

One particularly freezing night found herself , Don Malarkey, Christenson, and Perconte squeezed into a foxhole, desperately trying to stave off the bone-chilling cold.

Huddled close for warmth, they spoke in hushed voices about their experiences and, inevitably, about Lieutenant Ronald Speirs.

The stories surrounding him were like whispers in the frigid air – mysterious and ominous. The tale of him allegedly shooting his one of his own men for being drunk on duty sent shivers down the spines of the soldiers of Easy.

"Don't know why anyone would willingly chat with him," Perconte murmured, eyeing Speirs from a distance.

"He's got that look, you know? The one that makes you question if you'll make it through the night," Christenson added, his breath forming frosty clouds in the air.

However, She couldn't help but be intrigued. As the conversation continued, she found herself defending Speirs, "Maybe he's not as bad as the rumours make him out to be. There's something about him that's... different."

Her words were met with incredulous stares from the three men around her , but she held her ground. Little did they know, She had sensed a depth to Speirs that went beyond the hardened exterior. It was this curiosity that would set in motion a night that would challenge perceptions.

Suddenly the infamous Lieutenant appeared as if out of thin air, scaring the life out of Perconte, who almost choked on his tooth brush. All four looked up at the man gawking in silence.

Speirs, surprisingly, broke the silence. "Need a smoke?"

The others watched in frozen fear as Speirs leant down , but She met his gaze and flashed a daring smile. "Sure thing, Lieutenant."

He offered cigarettes to the frozen soldiers, and she was the only one brave enough to accept. As she lit the cigarette, she couldn't help but notice the slight quirk of Speirs' lips, an almost imperceptible acknowledgment.

Unbeknownst to her , Speir's had been watching her from his spot for a while, with an intensity that bordered on the edge of obsession. The slow setting of the sun provided a dim backdrop, casting a soft glow on her features as she engaged in conversation with the men around her. There was a magnetic quality to her presence, an enigmatic allure that drew his attention like a moth to a flame

That night, she found herself sharing a foxhole with Lieutenant Speirs.

She nestled against him, seeking warmth in the small space, he spoke in a low, measured tone,.

"You know, I didn't shoot that man in my platoon."

She turned her gaze up to meet his, her expression unwavering. "I never thought you did" she replied, pausing for a moment before continuing with a smirk on her face. "But maybe don't tell Perconte that; it's nice to see him panic every time he sees you."

A rare chuckle escaped Speirs, the sound cutting through the freezing night. "You enjoy watching him squirm, don't you?"

She grinned, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Just a bit. Keeps things interesting around here."

With the cold momentarily forgotten in the warmth they shared. Their eyes locked, the unspoken understanding between them deepening. The tension between them reached a palpable peak, and for a moment, it seemed as if the frigid air might witness an exchange far warmer.

Just as their faces drew dangerously close, the almost-kiss was shattered by the unexpected appearance of Eugene "Doc" Roe. His silhouette appeared against the backdrop of the moonlit night, and his voice cut through the charged atmosphere.

"Just checking if you have any scissors or morphine?" Roe's inquiry pierced the air, his presence jarring against the intimate backdrop.

They pulled away, the near-kiss replaced by a shared glance of surprise. Roe, seemingly oblivious to the moment he had interrupted, stood there with an innocent expression, before sliding down into the foxhole with them.

Speirs raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"Scissors or morphine, Doc? Is that all you ever think about?" She asked she reluctantly pulled herself away from her human radiator and fished through her pack for the last of her medical gear, handing it to Roe quickly so she could return to Speir's side.

Roe chuckled, seemingly unfazed. "Thank you - In this place, it's all anyone thinks about. You never know when you might need one or the other."

As Roe pocketed the medical supplies and zipped away to the next foxhole to ask the same question, she couldn't help but smirk at the comedic timing of the interruption.

Speirs, too, shook his head with a small, rueful smile. The fleeting at the moment of intimacy that had been disrupted.

After the near-kiss and the disruption by Roe, she decided it was time to try and get some rest, Speirs watched her curl up, pulling the shared blanket up to her chin.

He couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, a silent triumph that offering her that cigarette, would lead to something even he deemed impossible.

MASTERLIST

Band of Brothers MASTERLIST

[malarkgirlypop]

He's the Boss Part 1(Bull Randleman x F!Reader)

Guys I don't know how I feel about this. Ah! There is a second part, yay, but let me if this one is good. If it's not I can write another one. IDK ahh having imposter syndrome. I feel like it's not good, which makes me sad. I was so excited for the story. I feel bad if it's trash cause I hyped it up. Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to the people involved.

I stifle my laughter seeing Perconte’s small figure clinging onto the back of Bull. Poor Perco got shot in the ass, and George owed me a fiver. I made my way over to the radio-man already grinning at him. He rolled his eyes knowing what I was smiling about. 

“I’m not making any more bets with you Y/N!” He huffed, coughing up the cash. I pocketed it with a chuckle. 

“You say that every time Luz!” I told him. 

“What can I say, I'm a gambling man.” He grinned at me, as I gave him a playful elbow. He slapped me on the back as we walked to the house we made our base. We were all weary from the long stay in Bastogne, it was one of the hardest stints I’ve had in the paratroopers. We lost a lot of good men. However there was some relief, we had finally taken Foy. Which was one of the attacks we had been dreading for a while. I think we were all ready for a break but it wasn’t to be, ordered to go forth and take more towns that the Germans occupied. But for tonight we finally had a roof over our head and some proper shelter from the freezing cold. 

We made our way into the house, the men quickly claiming their spots on the floor with their gear. Luz fortunately was thoughtful enough to save me a spot beside him. 

“How’s your ass Perco?” I asked as we stepped over the man who was lying on the floor being tended to by Gene. 

“Never had any complaints!” He retorted quickly, sending Luz and I into hysterics. Bull rested next to him, keeping him company. I straighten. “Sir.” I said, clearing my throat. He glanced at me unamused at my antics. 

The Sergeant had never liked me. I’m not sure why, maybe because I mucked around with Luz all the time. I was serious when I needed to be but more often than not I was getting into mischief. Bull had never said anything to me or scolded me. But his disappointed stare was all he needed to send in my direction to send me running with my tail between my legs. He intimidated me. someone that large was intimidating, he didn’t have to say a thing. 

“Give me your smokes, Y/N.” George nudged me as we got comfy on the floor. 

“No way! People pay good money for these!” I shook my head. I didn’t smoke like everyone else, which meant I could use the packs to my advantage. I would trade and sell them to the other men when they ran out. I had gotten a lot of neat things by trading my packs. But George, who smoked like a chimney, was always bugging me for freebies. 

“Oh come on Y/N!” He pouted. 

“Fine! Fine! You’re a dick you know that.” He grinned happily as I handed him one of the hoarded packs I had in my bag. Picking one out he quickly lit it, puffing away. He offered me the smoke to which I shook my head. 

“Where do you think Bull gets all his Cigars? I mean those aren’t part of the ration packs are they?” I asked, watching the man, he always had a cigar hanging from his lips. It always baffled me where they came from.

“Eh, I don’t know, never thought about it.” George shrugged. 

“George, you don’t think about anything.” I said knocking on his skull proving my point that it was empty up there. 

I watched Bull curiously. He was one of the quieter men in the company. He liked to sit and watch, rather than join in on the shenanigans. But whenever he did speak everyone hung on his every word. Even if it was only one comment it would be the funniest comment of the whole night. That would have everyone keeling over in laughter. He would just grin. When I first met the man I assumed he would be a brute, a man of that stature was surely big and scary. But he was kind and soft spoken in his thick country accent. No one really took too kindly to me though in the beginning, I was a replacement, and a female one at that. They all avoided me, scattered when I walked into a conversation, like I was infectious. After weeks of trying to prove my worth to the original Easy company men, I had befriended George. Well I say befriend, he says bribe. If he talked to me for more than a couple of sentences I would give him some smokes. So at first he would only talk to me to get smokes, but he found that we were similar and had become good friends. Always joking and laughing. He still says he only hangs out with me for the free smokes. But it’s ok I have him trained well. Bull was one of the ones who still hadn’t warmed up to me, I seemed to be able to make friends with the rest of the men. But the tall man was an enigma. If he was so kind and gentle, why did he dislike me so?     

************* 

Gun fire pelted down on our position as we crouched behind a rock wall. Every time I poked my head up to see if the cost was clear the shooting would start again. 

“Goddammit they got us pinned.” I yelled over the noise to the men I hid with. 

We needed to move forward into the town for this attack to be successful. It was currently not going the way we had planned. 

“Shifty!” I called our sharpshooter over to help me. 

“I need you to take out that sniper!” He nodded looking over the wall, only for us to flinch back as the machine gun fired on our position. 

“I can’t, not with him firing at us like this!” I sighed, racking my brain for a way we could distract them. 

“You’ve had an idea.” Shifty said, watching my face as if he had seen the mental light bulb go off in my brain. 

“Don’t let him shoot me Shifty!” I said to him, he gave me a curt nod. I shuffled my way to the end of the wall, I took a deep breath. I stood up from my position, sprinting forward. The sniper was on me in seconds, bullets landing close to me, I could feel them whooshing past my face. Anytime now Shifty. I thought as I ran as fast as I could, the sniper barely missing me each time. I looked back over my shoulder to our original position, I could see Shifty but he wasn’t shooting. He motioned to one of the other men for another gun. Oh shit! Not looking where I was going, I stumbled, falling forward onto my hands and knees. Oh fuck! I was now a sitting duck, fun fact it’s easier to hit a still target than a moving one, which right now I currently am. I groaned out in pain as one of the bullets finally hit its target, lodging itself in my arm. 

“Y/N!” I heard booming across the open field. “Get your ass moving!” Bull and his men hunched behind a broken down car. I got to my feet, making my way quickly over to where Bull was. The Sniper was hot on my tail, hitting the ground I had just left behind me. So close, so close! I dove forward, careening into Bull’s open arms. He caught me, but the force at which I flew was stronger than we both expected, as we fell back in a heap on the ground. I panted, my lungs burned from the effort. I sighed in relief at being safe again. I pushed myself off of the man, clearing my throat in an awkward way. 

“Thank you Sarge!” I said straightening myself, and putting my helmet back on my head. 

“What the hell were you thinking private, are you trying to get yourself killed?” Bull yelled angrily at me. My eyes widened. I don’t think I have ever heard him use that tone of voice with anyone. I flushed with embarrassment. 

“I was just a distraction for Shifty.” I replied, my voice slightly shaky. 

“Don’t ever do that again, you hear!” He reprimanded me. I nodded my head, tears welling in my eyes. It was one thing to be told off, but to be scolded by the Sergeant that never raised his voice at anyone, was humiliating. 

“We’re moving out, Y/N you’re with us now!” I didn’t have time to be upset, we were in the middle of an assault, for christ sake. I took a breath, gathering my thoughts. I followed behind Bull’s team of men. 

The assault was a success. I had found Shifty afterwards to ask him what had happened. His gun got jammed, he did eventually get the sniper with someone else's gun. We finally had cleaned up the town and were getting ready for the night. 

“Y/N I heard you were up to no good today. Being told off by Bull.” George grinned at me punching me in the shoulder. 

“OW!” I flinched away holding my arm, George laughed, then realised the tears in my eyes. 

“Oh shit, Y/N are you ok?” He looked concerned, tears spilling down my cheeks. 

“I got shot, I forgot. I had so much adrenaline, I guess I didn’t feel the pain.” We had been so busy, and I was so caught up in my own head about Bull yelling at me I completely forgot I had been injured.  

“You forgot? Medic!” George looked shocked. Gene rushed over quickly, as everyone also looked. It was late in the evening to declare a wound. 

“What happened?” Gene asked, also confused. 

“She got shot and apparently forgot.” George tells the medic. 

“Come on.” Gene moves me to a more private room, away from everyone else. I take off my jacket and top, leaving me in my white t-shirt. I lift the sleeve to expose the wound. I look down at my arm which is covered in dried blood down to my wrist. The bullet hole itself looked red and angry, a perfect circle had been punched into my skin. 

“The bullet is still in there.” Gene said as he assessed the laceration. “I have to get it out, or it could cause infection. It’s going to hurt.” I nodded defeated. I watched him pick up big tweezers, and my stomach dropped. I turned away when he moved towards the wound with the instrument. Not wanting to see him plunge them into my skin. I winced, trying my best not to make any noise. I bite on my lip, trying to remain as still as possible for the medic. I gripped onto my leg, digging my nails into my flesh. My eyes shot open when I felt my hand being taken off my leg and squeezed. To my surprise Bull sat in front of me clasping my hand in his. It caught me so off guard I forgot I was trying to be quiet. 

“AHH.” I yelped as I felt Gene twisted the tweezers in my skin. I gripped onto Bull’s hand tightly. 

“Sorry Y/N, almost there, you’re doing good.” Gene muttered as he concentrated. 

“Breath, Y/N!” Bull ordered, I hadn’t noticed but I was holding my breath as Gene worked. I gulped in air. Bull nodded, reassuring me. My cheeks were wet with my tears. 

“Got it!” I heard the bullet clatter into the metal kidney dish Gene had with him. I sigh with relief, thankful the ordeal was over. He finished the dressing, leaving Bull and I in the room by ourselves. I didn’t speak, feeling awkward. 

“Y/N I wanted to apologise for today.” Bull started, in his low country drawl. It was so smooth and silky, I’m sure if he read me a bedtime story I would be asleep in seconds. 

“I only reacted like that because I was concerned.” I laughed, his brows furrowed with my reaction. 

“You were concerned about me?” I asked unsure if I had heard him correctly. 

“Yes. Why is that so hard to believe?” He asked, genuinely confused. 

“Well, you hate me.” His eyebrows shot up, surprised by my accusation. 

“I don’t hate you. Who told you that?” He leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knees. He looks pissed. 

“No-no one, I just thought.” Saying this out loud to him now makes me feel stupid. 

“You just thought what?” He squints at me, tilting his head for emphasis. 

“You always glare at me.” I defend myself. “And you don’t talk to me.” 

“You avoid me!” He counteracts. “You run away from me.” 

“Well because…” He waits for my answer. 

“I think there has been some miscommunication between us, don’t you think?” I nod. 

“Well Y/N I can tell you now I certainly don’t hate you, in fact I quite like you. You’re good for the men, especially George, someone needs to keep him on a leash.” My mouth falls open, never in a million years would I have expected those words to come from Bull’s mouth. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I will admit I was weary of you in the beginning. But that was because you were a replacement and the men we have had in the past have not been the best soldiers. You on the other hand, you did good.” I felt my face flush, I wanted to pinch my cheek, surely I was dreaming. Bull’s laughter shocked me, big and booming it filled the small room we sat in. It was rich in tone, just like his voice. I liked his laugh. 

“Don’t look so shocked, darling!” He chuckles, he pulls his gun from the floor, opening the butt of it. From the compartment he pulls his signature cigar, he lights it, inhaling deeply as it glows a cherry red. He blows out the smoke, leaning back in his chair. 

“I think I’ve sent you into shock.” He joked, pulling me from my surprise. 

“I just-I don’t think I have heard you speak so much in one go.” He laughs again, a smile forms on his lips. My heart fluttered, it felt nice to make him laugh. 

************* 

“Y/N get off George, the poor man can’t breathe.” Bull said from behind me, he had walked in on me attacking George, poking him in his sides until he couldn’t breath from laughing. He had been teasing me insistently about Babe having a crush on me. Babe did not have a crush on me. We were friendly and that’s all it was, but George liked to wind me up. I stood up giving Bull a toothy grin as he shook his head, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 

“Bull, thank god you came, I thought she was about to kill me.” I sent a look to George, it wasn’t a threat but a promise that I would get him again if he wasn’t careful.    

“Look at her, those eyes, she’s a killer I tell you.” George pointed at me. Bull chuckled. 

After I had figured out that Bull in fact did not hate me like I suspected, we turned into close friends. We were polar opposites but we worked well together. I was a chatter-box and he was a listener. But I could get him to say more than any of the other men in the company could. He had the most interesting stories. I would listen intently as he spoke, sometimes getting distracted, just listening to his voice. His velvety rich accent always gave me goosebumps, so I would get him to talk as much as I could just so I could hear him speak. I found that he was just a big teddy bear. Very country boy, raised on manners and good faith. I liked to call him Ferdinand the bull off of the cartoon of the sweet bull who would rather sit and smell flowers than fight. It perfectly encapsulated the Sergeant. He was so gentle in everything he did. I didn’t want to admit it but I had grown quite attached to him, and differently to the other men of Easy. I made all the men laugh all the time, sure it felt good. But when Bull laughed at my jokes, I felt giddy. When he smiled at me my heart fluttered. I have never felt this from anyone. But I was sure it was just because I looked up to him, and not literally. He was my boss so of course I wanted to impress him. 

“Bull, we are going to one of the pub’s tonight are you coming?” I sidled up to the man as he walked. His eyes flick down to look at me, as he puffs on his cigar. I smiled up at him. 

“Sure I will, just because you asked.” I grin, I hold onto his arm giving it a squeeze. 

“Alright, get to your task, Y/N.” He shoos me away with a small smirk. 

“Yes Sir.” He laughs as I salute him walking away. 

“Is he coming?” George asks from behind me, I turn, nodding my head. “See I told you he would come if you asked!” He wiggles his eyebrows. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” I scoff mocking offence. 

“Oh please, you two are smitten with each other!” I glare at him, as he stares at me with wide eyes. 

“George you think I’m smitten with everyone, five minutes ago you said that Babe and I had something with each other.” I point out to him as we walk to help with the stock take. 

“But I actually mean it with you and Bull. I have seen the way you two look at each other.” He pouts, fluttering his eyelashes, pretending to be me. I shake my head, shoving him. 

“Ok if it's about how we look at each other, then you and that hershey bar you were eating the other day were totally in love.” I mimic the way he ate the bar, moaning with each bite. 

“You’re not wrong, that hershey bar really rocked my world.” He grinned at me. 

“You’re gross.” But we crack up laughing.   

[darling-heffron]

I worked so hard on this moodboard, I was feeling creative, please enjoy! Also look at me posting on the right day hehehe! I hope you enjoy this chapter cause I do (and I hope you can tell which part I like the most)

Love Esra✨

Taglist: @malarkgirlypop , @mellow-human , @next-autopsy if anyone else wants to be added, please let us know!!

Chapter Fifteen: Double Whammy 

Sam’s POV:

“How’s your ass, Perco?” His group of friends gathered in the small medical tent he had been taken to. 

“Never had any complaints.” Seemed like the man was back to his usual self. 

“He needed 6 stitches in his natal cleft.” A voice spoke from behind the group, everyone’s head turned to see who was speaking. 

The medic looked up at all of them from his perch, he seemed to have a permanently worried look on his face, but he looked kind all the same. 

“Natal cleft?” Mars asked never hearing those words before in her life. 

“He means my ass.” Frank called from his position lying face down on the bed. 

“No, Perconte, I mean your natal cleft. It's the deep groove which runs between the two buttocks from just below the sacrum to the perineum.” The group stared at the man blankly, the man sighed and rubbed his temples before he explained, “His ass crack.” 

A collective ‘ahh’ rose from the team. 

“And how long will he be out of action?” Sam questioned, earning a few disapproving glances from the men. But the girl promptly ignored them, she hadn’t all of a sudden started caring about their opinions of her. 

“Maybe about two weeks.” Gene estimated, “But it’s hard to tell. We will just have to wait and see.” 

The older girl huffed, Bull elbowed her in the side with a raise of his eyebrows silently telling her to reign it in. 

“Guys!” Lieb’s annoying voice rose from outside of the tent. The group made their way out to join him in the empty space. “Just cause you’re newbies, doesn’t mean we let you get off easy. We have work to do.” 

Sam rolled her eyes, even the voice of this man infuriated her to no end. 

“Do you have a problem, Jackson?” Liebgott hadn’t missed the look of pure annoyance on the young girl’s face. 

Sam sucked her teeth and tried to even out her anger before she spoke. 

“No problem here.” She dismissed the man, not giving in to his humiliation tactic. 

“You’re missing something.” His eyebrows raised and his friend, Tipper, who stood beside him tried to control the smile that crept onto his features. Tipper and Marleen made eye contact and she mirrored his expression. 

Sam didn’t speak, if he was so desperate to piss her off she wasn’t going to fall into the obvious trap. 

“Are your ears not working?” Lieb tried again, crossing his arms over his chest. The only people he was making uncomfortable were the rest of the group that stood around her. 

“They work perfectly well.” Sam’s tone was snarky and rude. She could feel Bull’s eyes boring a hole into the back of her head. 

“So, tell me what you missed.” Liebgott’s smirk grew. 

Sam’s fists clenched at her sides. “No. Problem. Here.” She paused a moment before she fully finished her sentence, “Sir.” 

She wanted to punch the smug look right off his face, but she stayed in her place. 

“We need to restock firewood. Get into two groups and follow me.” Lieb and Tipper turned on their heels and made their way out of the locked gates. The men standing armed at the fence stood aside to let them pass before closing and relocking the perimeter. 

Two teams; one of three and one of four stood with space between them so that the men could tell who was where. 

Shifty, Martin and Lip made the team of three, leaving Sam, Mars, Luz and Bull on the other. 

The men wandered further out into the forest, they had walked so far that the noises from the camp faded into the distance until they couldn’t be heard. 

Tipper and Lieb whispered quietly before turning around to face the groups. 

“Team of three, follow me.” Tipper didn’t wait for them before he turned on his heel and walked away from the remaining group that stood watching them leave. 

“And you lot are with me.” Lieb grinned. They had clearly done this on purpose; the man seemed to be obsessed with Sam. 

Thankfully, Bull and Luz fell into step with the tall Lieb and kept him occupied with friendly chatter while Sam hung back with Mars. 

“Are you ok?” Marleen asked again, the second time that day. She had noticed the effect this man was having on her friend and suspected this type of interaction was new to her. 

“I don’t like that guy.” Sam watched the men walking ahead of the pair, “He has it out for me.”

“Yeah, cause he likes you.” Mars said as if it was obvious. 

The older girl had never been loved before, not even liked by someone, but she wasn’t sure this was how people acted if they were attracted to someone. Weren’t they supposed to be nice? 

“I don’t understand other people’s feelings.” Sam reported dumbfounded. 

“It’s ok, that’s why you have me!” The younger girl attached herself to the taller woman’s arm as they walked along. 

“Where is he taking us? Aren’t we supposed to be collecting wood?” Sam's nerves had already been set on edge when they had first met these people, but now her senses were even more heightened. 

“This is our woodstock.” Lieb announced as they came to a small hutt that was filled to the brim with logs. 

“We collect from here to take back but what you take you must restock. That means that the wood can dry out and be ready for use when we need it.” The man announced their system. 

“So, let’s all go collect wood and bring it back here and then we can go back to camp. Don’t get lost and be on guard, even though we’re sheltered here doesn’t mean we are completely safe from the hoards.” The men nodded, patting their weapons that they had on their person. 

Sam took Mars’ hand and led her away from the group. She needed the younger girl to stick by her side since Marleen wasn’t confident enough, nor did she have the skills to defend herself. 

“So, how good are you at fighting?” Lieb had circled round the group and fell into step with the taller girl who clamped down on her lower lip trying to keep her cool. The man continued when he realised Sam wasn’t going to answer him. 

“You might be good, but that’s only cause you fight other women. I don’t think you would be able to take down a skilled male.” Liebgott was good at one thing, pushing her fucking buttons. 

Sam’s steps faltered and she turned to look deadpan at the taller man that smiled, all too pleased with himself. 

“Do you wanna find out?” Sam gave a threatening smile. 

“Sam.” Mars whispered under her breath tugging gently on the older girl’s arm. 

Taking a deep breath she continued on her journey, she was going to be the bigger person even if she hated it. 

“Too scared?” Lieb prodded the angry bear. 

But Sam persisted in her walking. Ignore him.

His firm hands found the top of her back as he shoved the girl forward. Sam stumbled a step or two before she regained her balance. 

Be the bigger person, be the bigger person. 

Fuck the bigger person. 

Sam swung around at speed. Lieb didn’t even see her fist flying towards his face before it was too late. Her punch swept him clean off his feet and he hit the ground with a hard thud. Sam was on top of him in seconds, Mars let out a high pitched squeal as she watched the pair collide with the ground. 

Liebgott groaned in pain but recovered quickly and grinned up at her, the tang of copper in his mouth, he could admit she had gotten him good. 

“Say one more thing.” Sam dared the man with her fist pulled back awaiting her next strike. 

“Samantha!” Bull had obviously heard the commotion and came running over. 

“Daddy’s calling.” The dominated man teased.

Her fist shook with power, she was so ready to pummell the shit outta this kid. 

“Get off him, Sam.” Bull commanded. 

Sam leaned in close so that no one could hear her next words apart from Lieb. 

“I will skin you alive, you maggot eating fuck.”

The taller girl was swiftly removed from the man, Bull’s large hands captured her upper arms and hauled her off. 

“Sam, what happened to keeping a low profile?” Bull asked sternly as he placed her back on the floor, but still kept his grip on her so couldn’t attack again. 

“He started it!” She felt like she was six again being reprimanded by her teacher. 

“Liebgott, she didn’t mean to.” Bull covered for his younger companion. 

“No, I knew exactly what I was doing.” The tall girl growled, Denver squeezed her biceps in warning. 

“It’s fine. It was just a bit of roughhousing.” The man got to his feet and dusted the dirt from his pants. “No harm done. Dougal doesn’t need to know about this.” 

“Let’s just finish this task.” Lieb smiled as if he hadn’t just been decked in the face not moments ago. He spat the blood from his mouth and wiped the crimson from his lips. 

“Behave.” Bull whispered in her ear before he let her go. 

“Sam, oh my God!” Mars looked shocked as she approached the angry girl. “You punched him!” 

“He pushed me!” Sam huffed exasperatedly. “You know what, never mind. Let’s just collect this damn firewood.” 

—---------------------------------------

Mars’ POV:

Mars followed closely beside the still fuming Sam, jogging to keep up with the taller woman as they reentered the camp grounds.

She had watched the whole interaction happen in slow-mo, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy watching Liam get what he deserved. 

As the locked gates swung open more men appeared walking around the camp. Mars hadn’t seen so many people since the day Denver and her had fled the city on the first day. 

“Alright guys we will find you in an hour or two, you’ll be helping prep dinner.” Liam clapped, gaining the attention of the younger girl who’s eyes skimmed over the crowds. 

“Come on Sam.” Mars led the older girl along behind her, otherwise she would’ve spent the rest of the afternoon trying to kill Liam with her eyes. 

Not looking where she was going, too busy trying to herd Sam, Mars crashed straight into another person.

“Mars!” The older girl called, seeing that Mars was now sitting on the floor, “Would you look where you’re going.” The taller blonde tsked. 

“Sorry about that, Miss.” A polite voice captured the younger girl’s attention. A man with red hair and a kind face peered down at her. He stuck out his hand offering assistance to help her get to her feet. 

Mars gratefully accepted that young man’s hand as he heaved her to stand. 

“Don’t be sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was walking.” Mars smiled widely at the man, who in turn matched her bright grin.  

“Babe.” He began shaking her hand which he still held. 

The pair looked at the man curiously. It was clear they were both trying to figure out who he was calling ‘Babe’. Marleen glanced over at her companion, wincing when she saw Sam’s clenched jaw and tightened fists. 

“I’m sorry?” Mars asked politely before the older girl could chime in and say something rude. 

“Oh, sorry.” He released her hand, “My name is Edward Heffron, but everyone calls me Babe.” The redhead clarified, smiling sweetly. 

“Marleen Fin-” The young blonde began, but the man quickly interjected. 

“I know your name, Mars. That’s the only thing the men can talk about. We haven’t had any women join us. You two are like celebrities.” 

“Oh, I see.” Marleen paused before remembering the beginning of their odd interaction, “Why Babe? How’d you get stuck with that gem?” 

“Ha, it’s a bit of an inside joke.” The red head gave a shy chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. 

“Guess that means you have to keep it to yourself then.” The older girl mumbled loud enough to be heard. Her short companion waved her off. 

“Don’t be silly! We love inside jokes.” Marleen smiled brightly as she encouraged the man to explain. 

“Well, before all this went down, I was starting work as a building apprentice. And on my first day, my mum called and some of the guys overheard her calling me ‘her sweet baby boy.’ It got shortened to Babe and just stuck.” 

By the end of his anecdote both he and Mars were cackling like old friends. Sam, on the other hand, stood back and watched with her arms crossed over her chest, completely unamused. 

“What’s so funny?” A thick accented man who was walking by, stopped to join their conversation. Sam ignored him entirely, barely tolerating this entire situation. 

“Speak of the devil.” Babe winked, “This here is Ol’ Gonorrhoea!” He slapped his friend on the back in good nature, earning a dry ‘ha, ha’ from the older man. 

“I suppose you have an explanation for that one too?” Mars laughed, her eyes crinkled and her cheeks were beginning to ache from smiling so hard. 

“The name’s Bill Guarnere. Gonorrhoea- Guarnere, you get it.” He shrugged

“So you two worked together… you know, before?” The young girl asked, apart from Denver she hadn’t seen anyone she knew from before. 

“Yeah, the three of us have been together since day one.” 

“Three of you?” Her curiosity piqued and she couldn’t help but investigate. 

“Yeah, us and Toye… I actually think you met Toye already.” Guarnere told the girls. 

“Toye?” A confused look found its way onto Marleen’s face, “No, I think I would’ve remembered someone named Toye.”

“Yeah, no you guys definitely met.” Babe snickered. 

“Remind me what he looks like again? There are so many of you it’s hard to keep track of everyone- lot of names to remember.” Mars spoke light heartedly, brushing her confusion aside- it wasn’t like her to forget names or faces, she was a people person through and through. 

“He’s right,” the young redhead turned around trying to locate his friend, “over,” his eyes scanned the area, “there!” The man pointed, both girls followed his aim. 

Sam couldn’t hold back a short burst of laughter while the younger girl stayed silent. Her cheeks quickly warmed when she realised who he was talking about. 

The tall handsome man she had completely embarrassed herself in front of earlier. 

“Toye.” She tested the name on her lips, “What sort of name is Toye?” 

“It’s his last name, his first name is Joe; Joseph. But Joe is a common name, we have two, so he goes by Toye.” Babe explained, grinning. 

“You girls alright?” Denver appeared, eyeing up the men conversing with the ladies, “These guys bothering you?” His question was more for Mars than Sam but he still wanted to check up on both of his girls. 

The older female threw Bull a bored look paired with a minuscule shrug and with that, the stocky man stepped closer to Marleen. 

“Oh hey, Denver!” The short girl grinned, always happy to see her old neighbour. He reached out to her, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her into a side hug. 

“You good?” The tall man whispered to her while keeping his eyes trained on the men, from Bull’s point of view it looked like they had been flirting with the naive blonde. 

“Yeah, all good, Denver.” Mars nodded, snuggling into his side. 

Guarnere turned his head to his redheaded friend and the pair shared a look, the exchange was so brief it went unnoticed. 

“Well, we should be off. Work to do.” He voiced, Babe nodded along with him. 

“It was nice meeting you! See ya guys around.” Marleen spoke cheerfully to Babe and Guarnere as she hung onto Denver’s arm, completely unaware what was running through their minds. 

“You girls ever need anything…” Guarnere trailed off, his implication clear. The two Easy members gave friendly smiles and nods before wandering off. 

“I thought they’d never leave.” Sam grumbled, as she turned and fell into step with Denver and Mars, who walked with their arms still wrapped around each other. 

————————-

The newbies, minus an injured Perco, were split into groups once again. This time Mars, Lipton and Luz were sent to the designated food area to help prep for dinner while Sam, Denver, Martin and Shifty were given the task of setting up the campfire area. 

Winters had come by to explain that this bonfire was for them, a way for the new people to integrate and make friends with the existing members as well as let the existing members know who the newcomers were.   

Sam was less than happy about being separated from Marleen and vice versa, but the older girl realised she would rather heave logs of wood around as makeshift seating than have anything to do with cooking. That didn't stop her from glancing over and checking on Mars every few minutes.

The younger girl seemed to be enjoying herself, laughing and joking with the guys who worked in the ‘kitchen’. 

Mars had met four men while doing food prep. Firstly, a blue eyed guy who introduced himself as David Webster but she quickly noticed everyone called him Web. 

Next was a pair of young boys, her age or maybe a year or two younger: John Janovec and James Miller. And lastly, Tony Garcia- she had noticed a trend of the men going by their last names and just went with it. 

Not long after greeting these men, Marleen acquired the knowledge that Garcia spoke Spanish. She spent the next hour yapping at him in their shared language, it felt nostalgic to her, reminding the young blonde of her family. 

“Oh Christ!” A voice sounded, pulling Marleen’s attention away from her newest friend, “There’s another one? Great! Just what we needed- two spics.” His comment was mumbled under his breath but everyone still heard it. 

Her jaw dropped, had he really just said that? The young blonde turned to see a man she was yet to be introduced to. He was tall and lanky, she hadn’t recalled seeing around the camp at all that day. 

“I beg your unbelievable pardon?!” Her voice squeaked out, eyebrows raised in disbelief. Perhaps she had misheard him or maybe he didn’t mean to offend. Mars would give him a chance to back track before she took drastic measures. 

“Just leave it alone, Marleen.” Garcia whispered to her, his gaze had shifted to the floor and a crestfallen look rested on his face. He almost looked ashamed and that was her final straw- maybe this guy shouldn’t be given a chance to explain. 

“You heard me, sweetheart.” The new arrival spat out clear hatred on his features. 

“Cobb, leave her alone.” Garcia spoke up in a moment of bravery, but the disgusted glare sent to him from the argumentative man, promptly shut him up.

“What makes you think it’s okay to talk to people like that, huh?” Mars couldn’t help but respond, it was like a fire was lit under her, warmth filled her veins. She stepped closer to this stranger, her heart pumped fast and she had the sudden urge to scream. 

“Don’t. It’s not worth it.” This time it was Web who spoke to her, trying to keep the peace between Marleen and this guy. She ignored him, brushing his gently placed hand off her shoulder and stepped even closer to the offending person. 

“Are you deaf? Or are you that stupid and need me to repeat myself?” Cobb barked. 

Mars didn’t even listen to the end of his sentence before she found herself winding her hand back and slapping it across his cheek. 

The sound of skin on skin contact echoed throughout the campsite. 

The noise alerted Sam and she raised her head to investigate, instantly noticing Mars squaring up to a member of Easy. 

The older girl dropped the armful of kindling she had been carrying to the fire pit and ran to her friend's side. She was followed by several others, including Denver. 

A flurry of voices burst; Cobb was yelling and swearing, Mars spat out spiteful comments in both English and Spanish while Web and Garcia were doing their best to soothe the pair. 

“Enough!” A deep voice boomed. Speirs had marched over when he noticed the quarrel and now he stood in front of them with his hands on his hips and a furious expression. 

“Someone had better explain what the hell is going on.” But nobody even moved to speak, keeping quiet and trying their best not to make eye contact with the authoritative man. 

“I’m going to get Winters. That gives you two minutes to get your stories straight.” Speirs announced before stomping away. 

The second he was out of earshot, both Denver and Sam began talking to the short blonde girl. 

“Marleen! What the hell!” 

“What did he do?” 

Mars didn’t say anything, she just glowered at Cobb. Sam took in this man’s appearance, looking him up and down- and she didn’t like what she saw. He came off as weasley as he snivelled and held his reddening cheek. 

Sam wanted to snarl at him, knowing whatever he had said or done to the cheerful girl was worth more than a little slap. 

Denver let out a sigh at the short girl, “Marleen.” He spoke softly, urging her to say something. 

“He started it.” She mumbled out, holding her hands behind her back like a child being scorned by a parent. 

Denver brought his hand up to his eyes, rubbing them in frustration. 

“Mars,” His tone was heavy with disappointment, “I expected more from you.” 

Sam frowned at his words, she knew that something must have pushed the younger girl to strike someone as she would never normally do anything like this. Not without good reason. 

Marleen clenched her jaw, it looked like she was going to cry but she did her best to hold it together. 

“We are guests here, these guys are helping us and both of you girls have been acting like children.” Bull looked between the women, “I kinda knew Sam would act out like this,” He waved his hand at the named girl, who rolled her eyes and scoffed at his comment. 

“But I had hoped you would reign it in- and you.” He stepped closer to Marleen, “I thought you would behave better. Now, tell me what the hell happened?” 

His lecture seemed to be over, neither girl was happy and everyone who surrounded them came across as uncomfortable having witnessed the ladies be reprimanded. 

As if being saved from giving her recount of the event, Speirs and Winters appeared. Both kept their faces as neutral as possible yet they did not look happy. 

“I want a recount of what happened.” The redheaded man declared. Nobody jumped to speak up, so he was forced to single someone out. 

“Marleen, I’ve been told you hit Cobb. Is that accurate?” 

“She wouldn’t have hit him without prompt, Sir.” It was Sam who raised her voice. She knew she had to defend Mars and no matter what had happened she would take the girls' side. 

Winters nodded thoughtfully, pausing to think of his next words, “I’m sure you’re right, Sam. But I still need to know what went down.” His voice was soft, he knew his men and Cobb was a troublemaker. Winters may not know the new additions so well but he was almost sure this scuffle was warranted. 

Just when it looked like no one would speak up, the young man with a buzz cut stepped forward. 

“Cobb used a slur. He called Marleen and Garcia… a slur.” Janovec paused, not wanting to repeat it. Then added on, as if he remembered who he was speaking to, murmured, “Sir.” 

The group that had gathered collectively clicked onto the situation. Denver sagged his shoulders now thinking he had been too harsh on the girl while Samantha seethed. 

“What?” Sam spoke through clenched teeth. 

“Is this true?” Winters aimed his query at the man in question. He glowered and lowered his gaze before muttering a quiet “Yes, Sir.” 

“Come with me.” The redhead left no room for discussion as he turned and left towards the unfinished building. Cobb hesitated for a mere second before he followed after Winters, sulking as he did so. 

The rest of the kitchen crew busied themselves with their work, leaving the two women and Denver to have a semi private conversation. 

The bulky man opened his mouth to apologise, he had been on high alert all day and hadn’t meant to let his stress out on the short blonde. 

“Don’t.” Marleen spat out, tears had filled her eyes over the course of her reprimand and she couldn’t hold them back any longer. They fell down her cheeks and she quickly turned and stomped away, not wanting to stand in front of Denver and cry. 

“Real nice.” The taller girl commented, following her counterpart to their tent and leaving the southern man to wallow in his guilt. 

Sam jogged after the short blonde, she could be fast when she wanted to. 

“Mars! Wait!” But Marleen had already unzipped and entered their shared tent, ignoring Sam calling out for her. 

The older blonde ducked as she entered the tent, immediately noticing her friend crouched on the floor atop her sleeping bag. She knelt beside the girl and pulled her into a hug without hesitation. 

She stayed there with her arms wrapped around Marleen's smaller frame and let the girl sob. 

Once her cries dimmed, Mars pulled back from the embrace.

“I don’t know why I’m crying,“ She hiccuped, “I just got so mad and-“ Mars didn’t really have an explanation for her behaviour. 

She wasn't even from Mexico like the slur suggested, but it had still worked her up. And after getting to know Garcia as a soft spoken, kind hearted guy, she was angry for him. The fact that he seemed used to this treatment pissed her off and she couldn’t stand by and say nothing. Her emotions took over when she reached out and slapped Cobb but she didn’t regret it. 

The only thing that she regretted was upsetting Denver. The disappointment on his face was etched into her mind and that made her want to cry all over again. 

“He didn’t mean it, you know?” Sam spoke as if reading her mind, “I’ve been winding him up since we got here, threatening to fight everyone. And when I punched that asshole, Bull was pissed.” She tried to lighten the mood with a smile and a nudge of the short girl's shoulder. 

It worked momentarily as Marleen giggled through her sniffs, but the forlorn look found it way back onto her features.

“Do you think he’s super mad at me?” Her whispered tone made her sound a lot younger than she was. 

“No.” Sam shook her head, “In fact, I think he regrets it. He was just having a bad day and snapped but I know if he’d have heard what really happened, he would’ve been proud of you for standing up for yourself, I know I am.” 

“He called us ‘Spics’.” Marleen said under her breath, frowning as she did. Sam kept quiet and let her continue.

“I speak Spanish, sure. But I’m not Mexican, my mum came from Spain. But it still pissed me off. It hurt.” With her last words came more tears. Sam could only watch and pity her confidant, pulling her into one more hug.

There wasn’t much she could say to comfort Mars, but showing her empathy with physical contact was more than enough for the younger woman. 

Marleen snuggled into the hold, clinging onto Sam as she willed herself to stop her silent tears. 

“He says anything to you again, I’ll kill him.” 

Marleen chuckled but Sam didn’t, “I’m not kidding.” She spoke flatly. 

“Thank you, Sammy.” Mars smiled warmly knowing this girl was becoming her best friend and she was definitely growing on the guarded heart that belonged to Samantha Jackson. 

AHHHHHHH she got him!!! LMAO, but I mean he deserved it winding up Sam like that will only get you punched in the face so...

Esra✨

[blueberry-ovaries]

WHAT SONG ARE THEY?:

these are the songs i associate with the BoB men > this is just general songs from any genre and band

Dick Winters: Viva La Vida - Coldplay

‘Just a puppet on a lonely string - Oh who would ever want to be king’

Lewis Nixon: Kiwi - Harry Styles

‘She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes - Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect’

Carwood Lipton: The Chain - Fleetwood Mac

‘And if you don’t love me now - You will never love me again - I can still hear you saying - We will never break the chain’

Ronald Spiers: Teeth - 5 seconds of summer

‘Fight so dirty but your love’s so sweet - Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth’

Harry Welsh: Budapest - George Ezra

‘My acres of a land, I have achieved - It may be hard for you to stop and believe - But for you (ooh), you (ooh)- I’d leave it all’

Joe Liebgott: Only Angel - Harry Styles

‘Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door - I got splinters in my knuckles crawling cross the floor’

Joe Toye: Thunderstruck -AC/DC

‘Ain’t got no gun, ain’t got no knife - Don’t you start no fight - ‘Cause im T.N.T. Im dynamite - T.N.T. and i’ll win the fight’

Bill Guarnere: Breakin’ Dishes - Rhianna

‘I’m kickin’ ass, i’m taking names, i’m on flame, don’t come home babe - I’m breaking dishes up in here, all night’

George Luz: Bad Omens - 5 seconds of summer

‘I cried in your dark brown eyes for the thousandth time - ‘cause you love somebody - I died when you left that night for the thousandth time - ‘Cause you love somebody

Skip Muck: Youngblood - 5 seconds of summer

‘Remember the words you told me - Love me ‘til the day i die - Surrender my everything ‘cause you made me believe you’re mine’

Don Malarkey: The Archer - Taylor Swift

‘Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay - ‘Cause they see right through me, they see right through me’

Frank Perconte: Treasure - Bruno Mars

‘Honey, you’re my golden star - You know you can make my wish come true -If you let me treasure you’

Babe Heffron: Angel of Small Death and the Codine Scene - Hozier

‘With her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean - She’s the angel of small death and the codine scene - With her straw blonde hair - her arms hard and lean - she’s the angel of small death and the codine scene’

Bull Randleman: Enter Sandman - Metallica

‘Til the sandman, he comes - Sleep with one eye open - Gripping your pillow tight - Exit light, Enter night’

Skinny Sisk: Little Less Conversation - Elvis

‘All this aggravation ain’t satisfactioning me - A little more bite and a little less bark - A little less fight and a little more spark’

David Webster: No Shame - 5 seconds of summer

‘Love is fatal - Won’t you give it a chance? - Centre of attention - Don’t you ask me any questions’

Shifty Powers: Learn to Fly - Foo Fighters

‘Now, i’m lookin’ to the sky to save me - Lookin’ for a sign of life - Lookin’ for something to help me burn out bright’

Johnny Martin: Custer - Slipknot

‘These days I never seem to get enough- I’m tired of this shit, I want to go home - Don’t waste my fucking time’

Chuck Grant: Piano Man - Billy Joel

‘He says ‘son can you play me a memory - I’m not really sure how it goes - But it’s sad and it’s sweet and i knew it complete - When i wore a younger man’s clothes’’

Floyd Talbert: Ride - Sir Mix-A-Lot

‘Call me a jockey - ‘Cause i’m ridin’ them skirts and i talk real cocky’

Eugene Roe: Young and Beautiful - Lana Del Ray

‘Dear lord when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man - When he comes tell me that you’ll let him in’

Pat Christensen: Someone New - Hozier

‘Honey there is no right way - And so i fall in love just a little ol’ little bit - Every day with someone new’

Buck Compton: Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls

‘Yeah you bleed just to know you’re alive - And i don’t want the world to see me- ‘Cause i don’t think that they’d understand’

[softguarnere]

For Whatever We Lose

Lewis Nixon x OFC (slow burn, enemies to lovers) Chapter Three: The Goddess of War

Summary: Easy Company's newest member is thankful for the distraction provided by the new Women's Squad A/N: No points for guessing why this chapter was one of my favorites to write so far Warnings: period typical sexism Taglist: @dcyllom @kujofam

If anyone at Camp Toccoa is grateful for all the commotion caused by the female paratroopers, it’s Private David Webster.

Being transferred out of his company and into Easy is . . . an embarrassment, to say the least. Thankfully, all the fanfare and fuss over the women being placed into an offshoot of E Company is such a distraction that no one seems to notice David as he quietly slips in and joins their ranks. Satisfaction settles into his chest as he claims a bunk in the barracks for himself, unobtrusively arranging his footlocker and his belongings in amongst everyone else’s, just as if he's always been there. The lack of attention for his arrival is a strange sort of triumph, like an undercover journalist establishing the perfect alibi and new identity as their cover.

David allows himself a small smile at his success. So far, so good.

None of the other men even get the chance to think about noticing him. Even before David’s arrival, the bunkhouse had been full of conversation – almost all to do with the addition of the female paratroopers to their company, although he did hear one man complaining about the meatloaf that had been served for dinner the night before, which was a nice change of pace. And now, too, another distraction presents itself as a tall, ginger-haired man opens the bunkhouse door and allows himself in.

The effect is instantaneous. Men stop talking when they catch sight of him, instantly sitting up a bit straighter. Not, David realizes, in the way that you would for a headmaster or a dean who expects you to simply exist in a way that is automatically prim and proper, but in the way that you conduct yourself around someone that you hope to impress in the best possible way – someone that you admire.

The Lieutenant nods as a greeting. He stays standing near the door, which has shut behind him. He observes them, not waiting or expecting them to stop their idle chatter; he seems happy just to be around them in this casual environment.

Nevertheless, the talking dies out as the other men look to him. A man with a thick accent leans forward a bit on his bunk, calling out from the middle of the bunk house, “Lieutenant Winters, sir?”

“Yes, Perconte?”

The man on the bunk, Perconte, sits up a little straighter as everyone’s attention turns to him. “Sir, we were just wondering about the girls.”

“What about them?”

“We all know what you were thinking, Perco!” Someone calls, eliciting several laughs from around the room.

Perconte shakes his head, smiling. “Well, sir, we just wondered – what happens now? I mean, why us, anyway?”

“Why Easy Company?” Lieutenant Winters repeats. For a pause, he considers the question. Then, hands on hips, he takes a step forward, and begins a gentle pace down the aisle between the bunks as he works out the answer. “Have any of you heard why Colonel Sink chose E Company specifically for the new Women’s Squad?”

The question is addressed to everyone, to anyone, and they all shake their heads. Even David, although he’s been part of the company for all of two minutes.

“Well,” Lieutenant Winters continues. “I’ll be honest – I had to wonder the same thing myself. But Colonel Sink made it clear: paratroopers might be the best of the best already, but he thinks that Easy Company has gone above and beyond, and we haven’t even left the US yet.”

Smiles scatter themselves across the room. Best of the best of the best. Not so bad.

“As such, who better to help pioneer this new idea? Our track record is excellent. Supreme. The idea – the experiment – of female paratroopers is one that Colonel Sink wants to see succeed. Any other company might shunt them to the side or set them up for failure. But as men known for succeeding, the colonel knows that we don’t want any blemishes on our record.”

Someone interrupts. “You mean – uh, he doesn’t want any blemishes, sir?”

He carries a lot of weight in the way it’s said. Yet the word is tarnished, somehow, like old silver that no longer holds its shine quite the way it used to. Lieutenant Winters has already said that Colonel Sink wishes for them to succeed. David gets the feeling that the “he” being referred to is someone else entirely – someone who inspires the feeling of disdain, or maybe a faint fear.

The Lieutenant is inscrutable, but he doesn’t protest when a few of the men release breathy laughs that might be scoffs or snickers.

“It would be safe to assume that,” he says nonchalantly. “Now, as some of the best, Colonel Sink has entrusted us with a great responsibility.” Winters, now at the end of the aisle, at the door opposite from the one he started at, turns to face with men with one quirked brow. “Easy Company, are you up to the challenge?”

Put like this, it all seems so simple. Of course Colonel Sink would pick Easy Company to pioneer the Women’s Division! Who else would be so welcoming? So ready to set aside their differences for the sake of upholding their company’s stellar reputation? These men have already been learning how to put aside the differences between themselves and their fellow men – doing the same with the women should be easy, after that. This is a company that will not let the colonel and his grand experiment down, David realizes. They would hate to disappoint not only him, but the lieutenant standing before them, tasking them with helping to usher in a new age of military history.

The effect is instantaneous. Any of the men who harbored doubts about their company’s new squad seem to have been converted – and those who still aren’t convinced see enough people change their mind to know that they ought to keep their mouths shut on the threat of marring Easy Company’s status as a first-rate company. Either way, most of the men nod in agreement. A few even smile, never one to back down from a challenge – especially not one issued by someone who they so admire.

“Good.” Lieutenant Winters allows himself a smile now. He begins pacing back down the aisle, back to where he started. “We’ve got to show the other companies that these women are a part of our company and that they are treated as equals. I expect that every single one of you treat them with dignity and civility. Help them and get to know them the way that you have the other men in this bunkhouse. The standing order is: respect.” He stops pacing again to look around at everyone. “Can we do this, Easy Company?”

“Yes, sir!” Almost everyone exclaims at once.

Lieutenant Winters’ expression is firm, proud. “Well then, I’ll hold you all to that. Don’t let the colonel down.”

The unspoken agreement that seems to pass between the men is: don’t let the lieutenant down. And, as David looks around, he has a feeling that disappointing this man is the last thing that any of them want to do.

“Is this coming from Captain Sobel, too, sir?” Someone asks.

There it is – that same feeling that the earlier he caused passes through the bunkhouse again. David has only ever heard Sobel’s name in passing, but he’s got quite the reputation of his own, to say the least. This is someone who would never allow a tarnish on the E Company name.

“These are my thoughts,” Lieutenant Winters admits. “Captain Sobel will be along shortly to make an announcement before you formally meet the women. I don’t know what he plans to say, but I do know that he wants, more than anything, for Easy Company to continue going above and beyond – and to help its new members do the same.”

Oh, he’s brilliant, David thinks. This impromptu speech wasn’t really so improvised to begin with. It couldn’t have been. It had to be Lieutenant Winters who issued the challenge if they want this experiment to succeed. If it had been Captain Sobel, some might have been tempted to throw the proverbial wrench into the plans, as it were, just to watch him flounder. Lieutenant Winters is not someone who you intentionally fail. Genius.

As if on cue, the door opens and a dark-haired man steps in. Another lieutenant, from the bar on his collar.

“He’s on his way,” he tells Lieutenant Winters.

The door opens once again, and the men all stand as another dark-haired man bursts into the room, making a grand entrance. His face is stern and he looks down on them, his eyes roving over every one of them in turn, just to make sure he has their attention.

“Easy Company!” he begins in a booming voice, much more formidable than the tone the previous speech was delivered in. “Today, the female paratroopers are being absorbed into our company as the brand new Women’s Squad. There will be no funny business – no fraternization – under the threat of having your weekend passes revoked. My company will not be subject to rumors and scandal – it will continue to uphold its excellent record. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” everyone mutters, much more subdued than when Lieutenant Winters had asked for their understanding.

Captain Sobel nods firmly. “Good.” Then, just the way he came, he blusters from the room, slamming the door behind him.

All the men instantly relax at his departure.

“There’s a guy that makes you almost want to fail him,” the man next to David mumbles, glancing his way. He does a double take, giving him a onceover with scrunched brows. “Say, who the hell are you?”

David blinks, discovered all at once for his newness. “David Webster.”

The man looks him over again. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before.” He tilts his head. “No, I haven’t. Where’d you come from?”

“I just transferred into Easy, from Fox Company,” David admits, proud that his face only heats a little from embarrassment. “It’s my first morning here.”

The other man shrugs. “Guess you picked the right day to join. Everyone’ll be so busy with the gals that they probably won’t notice a new guy enough to pick on him.” He pauses. “Probably.”

My thoughts exactly, David thinks, although he gets the feeling that this man might just have some thoughts of a few jabs to throw his way.

He sticks out his hand. “Don Hoobler. Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

It was a nice six minutes or so of being unnoticed as the new guy. 

It’s still early in the morning, yet the humidity is thick, and made thicker by the cicadas in the trees all around the camp. No longer are their cries simply scattered ambient noise throughout the day, but the unrelenting screeches that drone on and on in a sound that blankets the air above their heads. If the men can’t complain about the heat and the layer of sweat that perpetually exists no matter what they do, the bugs will do the crying for them. From the sound of it, they’re just as miserable as the men doing PT are. The Dog Days in Georgia are nothing to sneeze at.

The women are already gathered on the parade grounds when Lieutenant Winters leads them to PT. Captain Sobel has stormed off ahead. Everyone is at least a little eager to meet these women. Even the men who claim not to care, to have no interest, perk up a little bit as they approach the small group.

Winters gives them a look over his shoulder. Not demanding, not a warning. Just expectant. He’s given them his thoughts. The rest is up to them.

Two women stand in front of the others, leading them in stretches. They stop as the men approach. Behind their crisp salutes to Sobel, their eyes wander to the men, questioning; how is this going to go?

“At ease.” From behind, it’s not hard to notice that Sobel is looking the women up and down, hands on his hips while he surveys them. After a moment, he nods to himself. He points to one of the two women that stand apart from the others. “Aphrodite, introduce your women to Easy Company.”

The woman who is slightly taller blinks, her dark eyebrows shooting up one second before descending into a furrowed position in the next. She purses her lips, throws a quick glance at the woman standing next to her, who looks less angry and more confused.     

“Come on,” Sobel urges, clapping his hands. “We’ve got a schedule to keep.”

“Sergeant Minerva Revels,” the woman, Minerva, stresses in an accent unlike anything that Webster has ever heard before. Slightly Irish, maybe? Australian? 

The woman next to her sounds off next. “Sergeant Diana Bradham.”

It doesn’t take long to get through the other eight of them. There’s Privates Keziah Crowe, Bianca Mancini, Juanita Valdez, Anna Wallis, Anita Houston, Lucinda McNair, Katherine Scott, and, to Webster’s ultimate surprise, Lori Sinclair.

Lori?! He can’t help but be taken aback. She’s the last person that he would have expected to find here, although her red hair should have given her away instantly. Then again, maybe it makes sense, what with her family being so well connected, and all. Probably good publicity for both the Sinclairs and the Army. Last he heard, Lori was off getting a degree in journalism. Huh. Well, hell of a story that she’s going to have. Like him. Who knows? He remembers her as being a promising writer. Perhaps they could co-author a book when all this is over.

Before his mind can wander to close to the New York Times Best Seller’s List, Sobel speaks up again.

“Easy Company, you can take the time to introduce yourselves later. But now, we’re running Currahee.” No one dares let their groans escape them. Sobel whirls back to the women before anyone can think to complain. “Sergeant Bradham, who is the weakest runner in the Women’s Squad?”

The shorter of the two sergeants hesitates. Everyone freezes, waiting to see if her lack of an answer is because she doesn’t know, or because she doesn’t want to embarrass anyone.

“Quickly!” The captain urges.

“I – uh, I don’t know, sir.”

“You don’t know? You are a sergeant, Bradham. Why don’t you know?”

“Well . . .” She bites her lip, glances at the other sergeant. “It’s our first day of organized PT, sir. I’ve never seen any of them run.”

Snickers run through the men as they realize Sobel’s misstep. Glancing around, several men look elated by his mistake, while others just look downright done. It gives Webster the feeling that this sort of occurrence is more common than anyone would like to think.

Sobel whirls around. “Lieutenant Winters!” He barks. “Take everyone up the mountain. I’ll be recording their times. Anyone under forty-five minutes will have their weekend pass revoked. Go.”

In the short time that he’s been a member of Easy Company, Webster has heard Sobel threaten to revoke their weekend passes twice now. This must be commonplace, and he must be serious, because a mad dash up the mountain begins immediately. In the heat of the morning, clouds of dust kick up from the dirt, clogging the air on the trail as they run.

Of course, Webster has run Currahee before. But never like this. Rumors about Easy Company’s running abilities have floated around the camp, and it seems as if this is one of the rare occasions that the rumors are true.

The amazing thing is, hardly anyone falls behind. Some runners are stronger than others. The dark-haired sergeant – Minerva, he remembers – charges straight ahead, easily keeping time with Lieutenant Winters up at the front of the group. Her glossy ponytail swings in time with her steps.

How ironic, Webster thinks, that the woman named after a goddess of war can do this with such ease. As if it’s been predetermined that she can lead people into battle, charging ahead like this.

After the switchback that plummets straight down, the trail dramatically reaches upward, stretching for the sky. Breaths come in pants and white shirts are sweated through, becoming a second skin as they stick to men’s backs with the water from their bodies and the moisture of the air.

But before anyone can truly come to appreciate how miserable this exercise is, something unexpected happens. Above all the heavy breathing and the crunching of boots hitting the ground, a voice rings out over the din.

“He was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright,” a voice sings, clear as a bell and sweet as honey. Whoever the voice belongs to, she must have quite the set of lungs on her, because she doesn’t sound nearly as exhausted as she should while simultaneously singing and running.

The next thing that anyone knows, everyone is joining in on the chorus. A siren song and the dark-humored lyrics carrying them up the mountain, and before they can consider being miserable again, another song is started up to carry them down. It goes on like this, with everyone being so distracted by the music, that when they reach the camp again, it doesn’t feel like the worst run of their lives after all.

Clouds of dust kick up as the company slows to a stop in front of Sobel. The captain’s lips are pressed into a thin line. His eyes betray nothing. He could be pleased with them or absolutely pissed, it’s anyone's guess.

“Forty-eight minutes,” he finally announces. “All weekend passes are revoked. Spend that time working on your running. Now go change and report to the firing range. Move with a purpose!”

Once again, the company manages to hold in the groans and eyerolls that they all so desperately want to let out. Good soldiers, all of them, they hold in their complaints and head off for the barracks to change out of their PT clothes. As they walk, several of the men give the women a wide berth, occasionally throwing glares their way, like the revoking of weekend passes is all their fault. Have they already forgotten who started the singing that buoyed their spirits to get them up and down the damn thing in the first place?

The women are hustling back with such purpose that Webster has to enter a slight jog to catch up with them. He ends up next to the sergeant with the unusual accent.

“Hello,” he says, suddenly remembering what it was like to approach other children on the playground as a child at school and introduce himself in the hopes of befriending them. “I’m David Webster.”

Sergeant Revels quirks an eyebrow. She has green eyes, he realizes now that he’s looking at her up close. Like the ocean. And a spattering of freckles across her nose. “Minerva.”

“The Roman goddess of war.”

She nods. “That’s right. Not Aphrodite, like some people seem to think.”

“Well, some people have no appreciation for the classics,” Webster quips, which makes the corner of her mouth pull slightly in the faintest of smiles. Before he can lose her attention, he adds, “Welcome to Easy Company.”

Minerva does smile this time, as something like relief washes over her, relaxing her shoulders. “Thank you.”

“Minerva!” Someone calls from up ahead. “You better come quick!”

It’s quick, but Minerva’s fingers ghost over his arm in the lightest touch. “See you around, Webster.”

And then she’s gone. The goddess of war, off to fight another battle.

[armandismed]

Band of Brothers Week: Day 2: Kraut Medicine:

Fanfiction: Kraut Medicine

Day 2 ( July 2nd ) Prompts for Band of Brothers Week: OTP || Faceless || Favorite COs || Red

Characters: Babe Heffron, Doc Eugene Roe, Ronald Spiers, Carwood Lipton, Dick Winters, Lewis Nixon, Bill Guarnere, Frank Perconte, David Webster

Genre: Dark humour, with a mix of dark horror.

Summary: Babe Heffron accidentally-on-purpose drugs the entire Company in Bastogne. Chaos ensues.

Author’s Notes: Fanfiction contribution for Day 2 of Band of Brothers Week! I had this idea bumping around in my head, based on the fact that A) Men scavenged in war, B) Men can be stupid, and C) We all know Babe Heffron is that kid who ate things before he asked what they actually were. 

This is also based on the idea and historical fact that German soldiers were given literal derivatives of meth in order to stay awake and alert for long hours. While I thought it’d be crass to actually name what the drug was, it’s pretty wildly acknowledged now that all sides in the war were taking all kinds of uppers (and downers) to get through the conflict. In my mind, it just happened that Babe Heffron was very, very stupid with it.

As always, no disrespect to the actual historical figures themselves. This is solely based on the characters in the 2001 Miniseries.

-------------------------------------------------------

It was two hours before Doc Roe noticed something was off about Babe Heffron.

Sure, he was usually a massive idiot (the term used affectionally, in most cases). But something about the way he was jiggling his leg up and down becoming more and more annoying the longer he did it, despite Doc noticing him from a distance and through the slow fall of snow in the dark.

“Fuck it, I’m going to say something,” Guarnere muttered, already halfway out of his foxhole and the entire company wound so tight due to previous shelling that a snap of a twig would send most of them off.

“I’ve got it,” Doc murmured softly, holding out a hand and only making direct eye contact with the man from Philadelphia when he could already see he was ready to argue. “I’ve got it-“ He repeats, but this time far more firmly, despite being relatively small and stature and pale, the look in his eyes telling Guarnere not to push it.

Guarnere holds up his hands. “That’s your venue, Doc.” He deadpans, already settling back down next two partially visible bodies under their cover, as Doc looks back. The leg was still going.

“For Chrissake- there’s supposed to be a no-motion ban- light and noise discipline-“ A voice mutters nearby, sounding suspiciously like Buck Compton, as Doc finally decides to act. Taking a deep but quiet breath, he crouched down close to the ground before slowly but deftly making his way across snow, careful about where he stepped lest he set something off.

By the time he’d reached Babe’s foxhole, both legs were going now, along with a little jiggle of his shoulders. “Everything alright, Heffron-?” Doc starts, slowly and carefully putting a hand on his shoulder but jolting it back as soon as he saw Babe’s dilated pupils and the stupid grin on his face. “Lord Almighty-“

“Hiya, Doc~” Babe grinned almost comically wide, it taking a moment for it to sink in that he was doing a little two-step as best he could in his foxhole, the entire snow below him turned to mush and dirt underneath his feet. “How’s life treatin’ ya-?”

Doc bit back an answer that was more sarcastic than Babe was probably in any place to understand or answer, before scootching closer, trying to inspect his eyes and holding up a finger to see if Babe’s eyes would follow a moving object. “Pretty good, Heffron, how are you?” He says evenly, that being his first mistake.

“I told you- it’s Baaaaaaabe~” Babe practically whines, body going limp and actually dropping his gun as he wiggles back and forth, Doc now looking at him more suspiciously than ever as he feels him up for his pockets.

“Doc, if you were interested, you should have just asked-“ Babe giggles, wriggling away from his touch like a child being tickled. Except he was a six foot tall man who was currently kicking a five foot seven Doc in the shoulder with a dirty boot.

“For goddsake, what the hell did yeh eat?” Doc finally snaps, before hearing the hiss from nearby foxholes, immediately reducing his snapping to a hiss.

“Nothing-“ Babe said with a pout, crossing his arms but still holding back lower body wiggles. “Just some of that Kraut chocolate we picked up near the border. And Webster told me about medication- t-they had pain medication- he translated the label-“

“So you took medication you couldn’t even read the label of?” Doc gave him a look like he was an idiot, before finally finding the bottle in the front of Babe’s jacket and shaking it, several pulls still rattling about inside.

“It’s pain relief.” Babe says proudly, nose up in the air. “I found it. And I feel fineeeeeee-“

“Yeah, I bet you DO-“ Doc mutters, trying to make out any indication for what the drugs actually contained. He opened the container and tried to give it a sniff. “You eat anything anyone gives you-?” He huffed, but now trying to think about how to bring Babe down from the clear high he was still on before he was actually needed in battle.

“Yup! It’s the Military!” Babe says with the same proud grin, wiggling from side to side. “Yay Babe!”

“For Chrissake-“ Doc muttered, now raising from his foxhole and intent on murdering Webster. “Anyone else take this?”

Babe stops his happy wiggles, freezing, before attempting to look innocent. “I mean, I know Webster has one. And Luz has one. Unless they gave some out, I don’t think so-“

Doc grunted in response, already annoyed at having to babysit a company of grown men from basically acting like they’d tasted the Devil’s Lettuce. Webster most likely didn’t share. Luz, on the other hand-

“Oh. And I added it to the water supply-“

“YOU WHAT?” Doc can’t help but snap, ready to punch his shoulder before the same hissing being heard again, but this time being accompanied by hissing from a distance.

“GO GO GO!” A voice can be heard screaming, as Doc covers Babe’s head as he tries to force him as closely down in the hole as he can, Babe fighting him every step of the way.

“LAY. DOWN. IDIOT.” Doc hissed, as Babe whines. “Heffron~  Idiot~ Why don’t you ever call me Babe~”

“NICE NOISE DISCIPLINE DOCTOR!” Guarnere’s voice can be heard sarcastically as he passes him to get out of a dangerously close shelling area, Doc poking his head out and seeing shell after shell splintering trees, quickly ducking down.

“IT’S NOT MY FAULT HEFFRON’S TELLEMENT STUPIDE-!” He calls back, before hearing the telltale scream of “MEDIC!”, Doc grabbing Babe by the front of his lapels, slapping his cheek to get him to pay attention to him. “You don’t leave this foxhole unless a mortar or a German is flying right at you. Got it?” He snapped, Babe almost looking sad. “Yessir-“

Doc moved to duck under trees and jump branches, before finding the person screaming for a medic to be right next to George Luz. George sat staring at the man, cross-legged, both seemingly completely fine.

“P-Peconte?” Doc pants, already touching the man up as soon as he gets near him to feel for injury. “Where are ya hit?”

“We never see each other any more, Doc- what- you don’t like me or nothin’?” Peconte says sadly, George looking at him and literally giving a shrug.

“Not you, too-“ Doc mutters, before slapping both of them lightly. “You are children! Give me those pills-“ He snaps, grabbing them off both of them and forcing George to focus on him. “Who else did you give these to-?”

“I mean, we thought it’d be funny to help Spiers loosen up a bit- may have dropped one or two into his canteen when he wasn’t lookin’-“ He shrugged, as Peconte starts giggling. “Boom~”

------------------------------------------------------

Doc stared at them, before shoving them under a tree, treating two extra wounds before sliding into a foxhole with one Carwood Lipton.

“Lip, Lip- thank god, some sense-“ Doc says, relieved, knowing the man wouldn’t put anything in his body before knowing what it was first. “Y-You drank any water? You seen Captain Spiers?”

Lipton gave him a weird look at how wild-eyed Doc looked himself. “Are you okay, Doc?” He says softly, as if they weren’t in the middle of a firefight.

“No, I’m not okay, Lieutenant, because Babe Heffron has apparently spiked the water supply with German drugs that make everyone loopy, Officer Spiers is apparently unknowingly drinking a canteen full of dissolved pills, and half the Company if they don’t dump their watah anytime soon could be just as stupid as Babe Heffron, Luz, and Peconte-“ He snapped, finally able to vent when the shelling took a momentary break.

“… Ah. That’ll do it.” Lip bites his lip, before looking up at him cautiously.

Doc listened. No screaming, no other noise. He could fully relax. Finally.

“… It’s a little funny.”

“Thank you,” Lipton says, clearly now chewing on the inside of his lip to keep from full on smiling, before grinning. “Wow. Spiers on drugs.”

“Either he’ll beat the entire German Army before we do, or throw a hand grenade that bounces back and kills him like a Looney Tunes cartoon-“ A rough voice says in the hole nearby, Captain Nixon slowly but surely sticking his head out his hole.

“You take any of this crap, Cap?” Doc shakes the pill bottles lightly. “It’s in the watah, too-“

Nix was able to muster a sardonic smile.

“Now, Doc- you know I don’t drink “watah” out here.”~

-------------------------------

“And you two are sure about this?” Winters says, rubbing his nose and blinking far more times then necessary, arms crossed and swaying ever so slightly from side to side.

Nix and Doc looked at each other. Doc moved to open his mouth, before Nix held a hand out, stepping forward and taking Winter’s face in his hands.

“Dick- ironically as the drunk one, I’m the most sober one of us, right now. Yes. Babe contaminated the drinking water- Spiers is apparently on a double dose- and, Peconte thinks he’s lost his leg but he hasn’t- so he’s the least of our problems now.”

Winters blinked rapidly as soon as Nix held his face in his hands, before managing to say in an even tone. “Were your hands always this big?”

“You know it’s bad when I’m your last line of defense, come on-“ Nix rolled his eyes, stepping away from Winters and Winters almost dropping from the lack of being held up, but attempting to hide it by spinning in a circle. “First thing- dump the water we have where no one will eat the snow and put in new snow to melt- fresh snow- second, find Spiers. Third- send someone back to HQ and find how the hell long it takes for this medication to work its way out of your system- go-“

Doc nods, being pushed back towards an awaiting Jeep with several injured, the Jeep making it halfway through the back lines before stopping before a figure in the dark, standing and surrounded by dead bodies of German soldiers.

The lights slowly but surely illuminating the scene, almost like a horror movie, as Ronald Spiers slowly turned around, moving to light a cigarette, before saying calmly.

“You got a fresh canteen, Doc? Mine’s tasted kind of funny- dumped all of it an hour ago.”

[wwhatev3r]

Easy Company Preference: going on a Road Trip

Background: Easy Company is going on a road trip across America in a small bus, so put up your seat belt because it is going to be a wild ride. 

Also, I wanna thank @oddbunny for giving me this idea <3

– Carwood Lipton - Lip is being the mother as always. He was the one who mainly organized everything and made sure everyone was okay. He helped Speirs with directions because he is the only one who can read the map. Finds serenity in camping. Tries to get a discount in every store. Gets stressed if the trip doens't go as he planned. As always, he is giving the food to the boys. 

“15, 16, 17… Someone is missing! Speirs, someone is mis- forget it, I found Perconte.”

– Ronald Speirs -  He is the most quiet during the trip since he is the driver. When Lip or Winters are sleeping, he and Nixon take the bad cop role and keep the boys quiet. Drinks to much coffee. Doens't trust or speak with anyone outside the bus. He will reach Lip with his arm and stay with his hand open for him to give him snacks while he keeps an eye on the road.

"George, shut the fuck up, or I swear I'll pull over and leave you by the road."

– Dick Winters - This man is just trying to take a break and enjoy the trip but he still gets stressed because of the rest of the guys. He is just worried that something might happen. He is sitting behind the driver's seat by the window with Nix by his side. Wants to stop the bus in every meadow. Winters likes to keep the window open to smell the fresh hair and look through the window to see the view. 

– Lewis Nixon - He’s just happy to get out of the routine but slightly dying inside because he misses the city. He is Malarkey’s and Muck’s prank victim because he sleeps most of the time. At some point he awoke with his mouth full of chips and with a drawing of a penis in his forehead. Winters didn’t say a word. He feeds every dog along the road. Oh, and of course he always has a mini bottle of alcohol with him. 

“I have to keep myself hydrated.”

– Joe Liebgott - He is that mf who wants to take shortcuts to get to his destination faster. Every time they step in a gas station he buys a comic book. He asks stupid questions about where they are to Webster, and then get’s mad if he doesn’t have an answer. He is too proud to ask people for directions. When Lip falls asleep he and Luz fight over the map.

“You are supposed to follow the red line, that’s the road.” 

“No shit, but there's a million of those.” Luz replied. 

– Bill Guarnere - He can’t stand in the same place for too long. Bill is that person who is always walking back and forward in the bus. He goes to make random small talk with Speirs and then gets back to his seat. They find him telling histories to strangers every 5 minutes. Him and Toye buy a lot of food. 

“Guys, why don’t we go to Vegas?” 

– George Luz -  He is the radio. As always he is the one who keeps the guys in a good mood and never lets boredom get over them. He stays in the back of the bus playing cards with some of the guys. My boy makes friends everywhere they go and talks with every weird stranger. Unlike Lieb, he is the one who asks people for directions after they get lost because Lieb insists on making a shortcut. 

– Joe Toye - He protects the guys. I feel like he would get a little paranoid of anyone getting killed or mugged by a weirdo. He always calls Bill to look through the window when he sees something cool. He loves hiking and bonfires. Shhh, he fell asleep on Bill's shoulder, and Bill got pissed off because he couldn't move anymore. Also, he stops Bill from throwing hands with racist middle aged white men in the gas station.

– Donald Malarkey - He insists on stopping for every activity and is the official snack provider. He takes pictures of everything and is the most polite with strangers. Him and Muck are the pranksters of course. Every time he sees a pretty girl in the street he imagines his whole life with her for a second and then moves on with his life. He buys presents for everyone and for his family from the souvenir shop. 

“I know we are all on the trip, but the presents It’s to remember that we were all here together.” 

– Warren “Skip” Muck - He buys the weirdest things from every souvenir shop and by the end of the trip he has a shirt and a hat from every state. He takes pictures with everyone, principally with weirdos. Skip is the best at coming up with games to play on the bus. He counts every red car that he sees, and he has this singing game where he starts the lyrics and another guy has to complete it. Luz rocks that game. 

“Let’s do it again next year.” 

– Darrel “Shifty” Powers - He is so excited, because he loves nature so much. He is that person who wants to stop the bus every time he sees a pretty place. When they stop in towns the old ladies like him so much. He is the best at camping. Malark had a breakdown because of a bee in the bus, so he stopped Bill from killing her and saved the bee. He wants to keep every foster animal he finds along the road but Winters refuses. 

“But sir, I will be responsible, I promise.” 

"It's not that I don't trust you, is because we already have Luz and Muck." Winters replied.

– David Webster - He is the Tour Guide. Teaches everyone random facts from every place they are. When they stop in towns, instead of going to the bathroom he looks for a bookstore. He acts like he is the mysterious main character in a foreighn country. He writes and reads when he is on the bus and then gets sick. 

“Dear Diary, my trip hasn’t gone exactly as planned, and that’s ok but I’m going to jump out of the window because of Lieb.” 

Babe Heffron - My poor boy always gets sick on the bus. He is always with a bag in his hands just in case. He is that person who is always asking: “Are we there yet?” I feel like he forgot almost everything: Pajamas, toothpaste, underwear… etc. But he didn’t forget his neck pillow. He wants to eat a lot but Gene doesn't let him because he will get more sick. 

“Luz, can you change the music? I don’t like that one.”

– Eugene Roe - He was the one who brought the camera. He always has his First Aid Kit with him, and a lot of bags in case someone gets sick. 

“Heffron, just lay down and stop eating too much and you won’t be sick.” 

Secretly buys candies in the store. He will pick plants and flowers to make herbal remedies. This man has an existential crisis out of nowhere when encountered with a pretty view. Winters asks him to look over the guys in case they get too drunk. 

“Sir, I’m a medic not their mother.” 

– Frank Perconte - He has the smallest bladder. It’s always too hot or too cold for him on the bus, jeez. When there’s no bathroom he hates to pee on the bushes. Gets lost very easily. Luz doesn't let him sleep for nothing in this world, poor man. He has so much toothpaste that he shares with everyone. When he wants something he still uses the card: “I got a wounded ass.” 

– Bull Randleman - It's him and Martin who look over the guys when Lip, Winters, Nixon and Speirs can’t. He is the one who remembers the boys to go to the bathroom before getting on the bus again. His shorts make him look like a tourist, I swear. He sees a stranger needing help with the car? Dad Mode: ON 

After losing Perconte: "Oh boy, here we go again." 

– Floyd Talbert - This mf got mugged by a roadside whore. He deserved it, he is always flirting with everyone. This man takes too many pictures and spends too much time in the bathroom. He questions Speirs driving abilities. I feel like he knows how to play guitar and would play some songs by the bonfire.

– Johnny Martin - He keeps everyone alive with tough love, and still has time to relax. I can see him with sunglasses giving orders to the younger boys, for sure. John doesn’t let the guys buy fast food, he will simply give them those 1 dollar sandwiches from the gas station. He almost threw hands with Web because he almost threw up on him. 

"Who needs to piss right now? We are not stopping again.”

“Muck, do you wanna die? Then put on your seat belt back on."

[bellewintersroe]

Do you think it will be alright if you just copy and pasted everything to this ask? And delete the other?

Sorry to be a pain.

here’s the ship from before!!!! <3

Thank you so much for the request and the amount of info!!!! Honestly you sound like such an amazing person and I’m excited to write this for you. I saw your last request but luckily hadn’t written anything for it yet &lt;;3

p:s- sorry if I missed off any important information !!

I ship you with… Ron Speirs!!!

GIF by searchingforacircuitbreaker

I always have a hard time shipping people with Speirs but I feel like he’s so mature, has good morals and can be super laid back- I feel like he would be an AMAZING fit for you.

first let’s start with your appearance omg you sound absolutely stunning and all of the Easy men know this, they all stare at your hips when you’re walking away until infamous Ron Speirs walks ofter and tells them to mind their business.

doesn’t realise who they’re staring at until you turn back around and Ron feels like he’s been hit by a train. Deffo admires how natural you are and your eyes are immediately what he’s drawn to. He’s a respectful guy, so doesn’t dwell on this, probably hides his emotions and doesn’t admit to himself or anybody else for a veryyyyyy long time.

I think he’s attractiveness is super super fitting with you? Your height sounds perfect and Ron probably has a thing for your hair. When you get more comfortable he’d probably trail his fingers through it and across your cheeks.

admires the FUCK out of you omg.

I think an actual relationship would blossom more towards the end of the war? Let’s say in Germany, ‘the best part of war they’d seen’ as Perconte said. Things are somewhat relaxing, waiting for the inevitable end- Ron plucks up the courage to hold your hand out of everything skiekskdieioe.

kinda has the nerves that resemble a school boy, as you said your 60% logical and 50% soft I think you’d be intuitive enough to see the man has feelings for you. You’d be so gentle and caring of him, all through the war, it pains him that somebody so selfless like you is stuck out there with them.

doesn't let ANYBODY know what’s going on between the two of you at first- this doesn’t mean he wants to hide you because he wants nothing more than to show off your relationship. He’s just a modest guy, and fraternising would risk extreme punishment for the both of you. He couldn’t put you through that, so for a while you live in your own bubble.

Lmao let’s be honest everybody’s so close they all can tell you’re his girl and somethings going on, they’d never point it out to avoid the two of you getting in trouble.

you’re so very polite and all well rounded he knows you’d be perfect to bring home to his parents.

sends his family pictures of you 🥹🥹.

expresses his emotions super clearly once you two are together, he’s a super trustworthy guy and wouldn’t want to do anything to discourage you or break your trust Nope nope nope. Couldn’t think of anything worse than making you feel any negative emotion, it literally pains him omg.

Would only take you on a date you’re comfortable with, eg, takes you on walks, sits by the lake in Austria and hands you over a drink and small presents he’s stolen found for you. When he realises that you cherish his words and physical touch more, he combines the two, still spoiling you but knows how important giving you a cuddle can be.

knows how to give love so well but he’s not so used to receiving it? He too faces unspoken insecurities but I feel like you seem like a very caring character that you’d be so helpful at reassuring him.

I don’t think you two argue much, especially after the war I think he’s sooooo chilled out.

so fucking respectful omg, uses his manners with you, his full attention is constantly on you, not only on dates but allllll the time. Stops to listen and looks at you with the most gentle gaze.

If you’re in a group I think you’d both be kinda introverted but it would be a great comfort to you both? You can find yourself laughing over nothing.

He’s a huge fan of how tough and strong willed you are, knows you can fight your own battles but if somebody dares try disrespect you or anything close he’s throwing himself in the deep end and wants to kill that person. (He wouldn’t legit kill but ok).

shocked when he finds out your insecurities and not feeling good enough, he can’t understand it. He praises you and soothes you so much, he’s amazing with words so anytime you’re in need of reassurance he gives you it.

laughs at other men clearly having the hots for you- you’re both so secure that nobody else has a chance. Bill even tries to relate to being Italian to you and you start giggling at how obviously hard he was trying to hit on you.

so important as well is that Speirs makes sure you’re safe at all times, and makes sure you feel safe. He’ll always ask questions, soothing you through any anxiety or sadness. No slight downwards tug of the mouth or blurry eyes go unnoticed by him.

As you said you’re full of compliments, this makes Ron BLUSH. Especially early in the relationship, let’s say he takes his shirt off to go swimming and you’re like ‘omgomomg captain Speirs nobody told me you were hiding all that’- he almost faints.

let’s say some random German girl or something hits on Ron or she’s rude idk- you don’t tolerate it omg, you defend your man so good and it kinda turns Speirs on. Would walk out with you under his arm, would be soo fucking proud and smug for you.

HATES seeing you cry, especially as you don’t do it often, pulls you straight into his chest and doesn’t let you go.

maybe he’d gently pull you into bed with him, locking his arms around you or keeping you under him to feel safe and secure.

He’s not a super emotional guy but in moments like these he truly feels what you feel. He’s a huge fucking empath. Feels grateful???? That you opened up to him, cherishes the moments of vulnerability so much and asks you what he can do to make it better.

ffs he’s so good to you I want him.

now on the other hand you sound like such an amazing person to have when he’s not feeling so good. You’ve had similar experiences with PTSD so I think there’s a mutual understanding that’s crucial to your relationship.

you both know when to give the other space, or when to hold the other, when to provide a solution or simply just let the other person cry it out on their shoulder.

you both handle everything like adults- seriously neither of you are immature in the slightest.

until…. You wanna bake one day and he’s in a playful mood and tries to join in and it’s chaos after chaos after chaos.

The WHOLE bag of flour somehow splits under his hold onto the floor, causing you two to burst out laughing. He’d probably slip over an egg or something dumb lmfao- let’s just say he was cleaning up after himself for a longgggg time.

you don’t know if you want kids? Cool, neither does he. There’s so many things going on in yours lives, from the war to personal problems that kids maybe aren’t the best idea earlier in your relationship.

but let’s say later down the line once you’re married (he’s kinda traditional but super chill about it and open to do what you want) you fall pregnant and pop out a baby.

ron is OVER THE MOON. Screams about how good of a mother you’d be, but once the excitement maybe 7 months in has been going on for some time he does PANIC and realises he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

you’d work together as parents as such a good team, you’d enjoy your family life and being a parent comes natural to your both. As you said you’d have a hard time saying no to your kids, I think Ron would?? Especially when they’re so little and cute a more playful, inner child comes out in him that’s so healing for the both of you.

cries when his babies are born. You have a second one and your family life is sooo complete.

Loves the chaos of children but Jesus pls let him sleep, he moves around like a sloth in the early days, not wanting you to overwork yourself at all.

gets sleep deprived but it’s so worth it.

no but seriously the two of you are perfect together, you both same on the same wavelength and not to forget you’re such an attractive couple ffs.

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

I ship you platonically with… Babe Heffron!!

GIF by rebeccapearson

STOP THIS FRIENDSHIP WOULD BE SO CUTE.

heals the inner child in you with his antics ffs.

so fun to be around but can be so serious when he needs to be.

out of everybody he genuinely puts the most effort in being friends with you, wants to go out of his way to speak to you and make sure you’re ok.

Maybe a little intimidated of you at first???? You’d deffo laugh about this later on.

babe begins to feel safe with you, there’s no judgement and especially after the death of Julian in Bastogne, you’re soo important to him.

wants to repay this back to you and does by spending so much quality time with you, makes sure you’re safe and warm. He tries his best to take care of you it’s honestly so cute.

if you're insecure about your friendship he’d probs be up your ass about it- scared you don’t want to be friends with him anymore

nooo he’s so cute and clueless that you’d soon figure there’s no reason to feel insecure in your friendship.

Until after the war BABE IS SO FUCKING SCARED OF RON.

Lmfao still calls him Speirs for years after which I suppose can be a somewhat endearing thing??

when you all start having kids the family unit grows closer and Babe gets drunk with Speirs and questions why he was ever so intimidated by him.

[holdingforgeneralhugs]

heyy, it's me again!! could you write some headcannons about the reader being tall (like, really tall) and intimidating?? i can never decide between the boys, so whoever you feel like writing for— sorry if that's too much, and i hope you have a nice weekend! <3

Ooo this is an interesting one, this'll be fun!

Bill Guarnere

Bill is incredibly put out about the fact you're so much taller than him. Of course he's kinda scared you could knock him out but hell if he'll admit it.

So at first he acts all brash and petty to cover for it, but he still makes sure to stay a safe distance away from you.

You two argue all the time and they're all convinced Bill will go missing someday because you've hidden his body.

Then one day he says something really mean and he knows he's gone too far, he can see the hurt on your face when you stormed off.

He wants to go and apologise but you know Bill, doesn't want to admit he's wrong.

So with a stern lecture from everyone else he walks his sorry ass over to you and apologises.

You tell him you're sick of people being mean about it all your life and he feels really bad then, so he does a full 180.

He is your one man protection squad. Anybody says any crap about you and they'll have him and his fist to deal with.

George Luz

George acts like you're his personal bodyguard.

Like he actually always walks a step behind you to make it look like you are, in fact, a bodyguard.

And when Sobel is feeling particularly spiteful he'll hide behind you so you'll block him from view.

And if someone asks him to do something he'll be super dramatic about asking you to accompany him for his protection.

Of course you think it's hilarious. His enthusiasm is infectious and you can't resist. You just roll your eyes and say "sure George, let's go."

And boy if he isn't smug about it.

Frank Perconte

You and Frank are little and large.

At first he's put out that everyone laughs at how small he looks beside you, but then he gets over it.

But you are a lot taller than him, and he's kinda terrified of you but he'd never actually admit it.

Like he will always avoid pairing up with you for hand to hand combat because he's convinced you could squish him.

But then one day you end up paired up and he realises you're not that scary at all.

Once he's gotten friendly with you he really leans into the hight difference for comedy effect, which everyone finds hilarious.

"Hey how's the weather up there? Cause way down here it's cold as hell."

Taglist:  @tvserie-s-world @geniedocroe @generousdreamlanddestiny @sunsetmando @cagzzz107 @howunexpectedlyso @alejodi0nysus @sunflowerchuck @now-im-a-belieber @anderperrysupremacy @50svibes @eugene-emt-roe @pennyllane @televisionboy @scientistsinistral @vv1nch3st3r @ask-you-what-sir

[brxceliiande]

BAD SHOT [BULL RANDLEMAN X GN! READER]

DURING THE BATTLE IN THE SMALL TOWN, Y/N FELT LOST AND HOPELESS ONCE BULL WASN'T BY THEIR SIDE.

bull randleman x gn!reader

genre : sad / comfort

warnings : swearing, death, blood

word count : 2.6k+

NOTE : (gn!) means gender-neutral!

----–––––––––––––––––––––---------

The day bleeds into nightfall and you're not here. Yellows and reds cover the sky as the sun falls behind the broken buildings and treeline. Easy had been through hell and back, finally retreating and resting opposite the enemy over the ridge. Lives were lost, friends and brothers. Lovers. Years of fighting and seeing everyone dying beside them, Y/n still couldn't shake it.

Sunk into the ridge, they fiddled with their dog tags. The smooth metal with their imprinted name glided across their fingertips. Staring at the soldiers in front of them, they all seemed to fade out, they were like ghosts, wandering aimlessly. Adjusting against the dirt, they winced and gritted their teeth. Hands flying to their stomach, they could feel their wounds opening up. Stitches pulled against their skin, stopping completely, they laid there in pain. Y/n pushed the palms of their hands into their eyes, they were going crazy.

As the light fades, Y/n felt their heart ache. They couldn't do this. The pain of losing their bestfriend, and the one they love, was unbearable. Every thought they had twisted into a dark nightmare, they saw their faces. Bloodied and lifeless, their bodies laying limp in the dirt, they could hear themselves screaming for them, their names coming out whispers rather than screams. Next it was Bull. The last they saw him was when they were ordered to stay in place as he ran to help the others. The fear in his eyes as he turned away, running into the battlefield, bombs and bullets flying through the air. The last they saw of him, his eyes. Y/n's heart sank, they wanted to scream, to cry, to run into the battlefield and be with the others. They wished the sniper finished the job. It would’ve numbed the pain.

The town was quiet. There was nothing except a sniper in one of the buildings. They found it too quiet, turns out everyone thought that. Maneuvering through the buildings, following behind the third squad, all five settled down behind a stone wall.

"Miller," Bull ordered and motioned him to lead the way and go around to a building.

Following orders, Miller got up and made his way through to the position, followed by Ramirez and Hashey.

Stepping out from behind the stone wall, Y/n was pulled back and felt something on top of them. A gunshot rang through the air and they darted their eyes to the ground, where the smoke came from. Right where they were.

Heart beating in their ears, Y/n looked up at the man on top of them with wide eyes. Bull stared back at them, concerned.

"You feel alright?" asked Bull, checking over their body, looking for blood or wounds, "Heads up. Sniper in the north building."

Nodding, Y/n got themselves up and peeked over the wall before swiftly running for the building the others were in.

"L/n!" whispered a soldier beside them. Turning to them, Y/n nodded to acknowledge their presence.

"You're up, Winters wants you." Nodding quickly, they crouched and moved swiftly to where Winters was. Landing on the dirt beside the Captain, they noticed Liebgott, Guarnere and a few others were also there.

"Okay, now that we're all here." said Winters, motioning over the ridge, "We got to see what they have before we can do anything. Liebgott and Guarnere, you're taking west. Perconte, Martin, north. Lastly, L/n and Hashey, you are going up top."

As soon as everyone got their instructions, they ran in the directions they were told.

Grasping onto their rifle, Y/n felt as though they would drop it. Hands clammy and sweat dripped down their forehead, though it was spring. The small building was made of stone, with broken windows and walls. Wood scattered itself along the bottom floor, the squad carefully trekking through it. They couldn't stop thinking about Bull. It was wrong, they knew that.

Being in love with a squad leader and their superior was wrong on many levels, and it wasn't the time to be catching feelings. There was a time and place to fall in love, like back home or in England. They were in the middle of a war, people dying everyday, and if someone slips up, it was their death next.

Whistling caught their ears, along with rounds or gunfire and screams. Moving behind everyone else, they raced outside and met with a loud bang. Armored squad was down one tank and they didn't know what to do. The tank was engulfed in flames and all soldiers ran for cover, running through buildings and the streets, trying to find some coverage.

"L/N, GET DOWN!" instinctively dropping to the ground, Y/n covered their head with their arms. Explosions rattled their head, ears ringing and their eyes rolling. Lifting their head, they struggled to look straight ro at anything they needed to go to. Shaking their head, they crawled to the nearest coverage, a half blown up stone wall.

Disoriented, they sunk into the ground behind the wall. Rounds of ammunition and shouts of German and English drowned out, as if they were underwater. Everything was muffled and ringing, non-stop ringing. Turning over to their side, their jaw dropped in disbelief and in fear.

Miller lay lifeless and mangled at the opening of the broken wall. Blood dripped from his head and his leg was gone. Y/n couldn't move, they needed too, they wanted too.

Staring at his body, a faint voice called out, a distant sound calling out to them. Their name. Without a chance to realise, they were gripped on the arms and dragged to their feet.

Stumbling, Y/n ran and struggled to breathe, their breathing complete with half assed ins and outs. They couldn’t do it. It was too much, they couldn’t breathe and the world began to spin under their boots. Looking around, they caught his eyes. Those eyes of ocean blue and swirling storms, they held anger, annoyance, and...fear. Tugging at the corners of their mouth, Y/n dazzly smiled at the sergeant. Silence clouded their vision and hearing, the world continued to spin, the sky swirling into a da vinci painting. They were at peace, everything slowed and nothing could help them. It was perfect.

Gazing back at the squad, Y/n frowned. They were no longer yelling at them, but rather frowning and fear seeped through their eyes. Something was wrong. Wobbling, Y/n’s legs gave out and they fell to the ground. Catching themselves, they looked down and their hand held their stomach. Blood dripped to the ground, staining their hand as it held the wound. Staring back at the squad, they dropped to their side and with one last look, they were gone. They were gone.

“L/n,” called Hashey, snapping them to reality. They wanted this done with. All they were doing was spying on the enemy from their ridge, yet it seemed it had been forever. Following Hashey's hand signals, they peeked over the ridge and flopped down instantly, bullets whizzing past their head. Holy Fuck. Holy Fuck. This is going to take forever. And they were right.

Hours passed, the longest few hours they have ever had. The moon filled sky withered away as the sun came over the horizon, bodies laying face down over their ridge. The quiet morning froze the tips of everyone's fingers and noses.

Cracking their eyes open, Y/n was welcomed with the clouded sky and chatter of soldiers. They were now spaced out more into the field, and not hunched together on the cool, dirt ridge. Soldiers wandered and talked with each other, medics tended to the wounded, and some still slept. The night command had ended well for the most part, soldiers wandering freely as a result.

Heart-sinking, Y/n stared amongst the men within their company, how they laughed and smiled, hiding their fear and pain away behind a facade. They knew they were. Because so were they. If you're not scared, you're bullshittin'. That was what Bull told them once before. They never got it, they didn't want to. A war was being fought and being scared was a defect. A soldier not ready for war, a soldier, not being a soldier. Or so they thought.

"L/n…" whispered a voice beside them, Ramirez and Hashey stood off to the side, helmets on and guns in hand, as if they were going into battle. It was odd to see, there was nothing going on, everyone was off guard and wandering around like they were at a fair.

"Yes?" asked Y/n, pushing themselves off the ground, "What is it? Why are you guys all geared up?"

"Were going after him."

"You're what?" Y/n was confused.

"We are going after Bull, we are not leaving him behind. We already left Miller…" The two looked down and cleared their throats, "Were not leaving him either."

They could tell the two were hurting just as much as they were. They didn't want to show it. The rising sun hit their glossy eyes, exposing their true emotions. Placing their helmet on their head, they readjusted their gun and nodded, fighting back tears. One of them had to be strong. Visibly strong, even if they were hiding the ache and pain they felt. They had to express hope and determination, even when others don't feel it, to be a leader for those in darkness, to guide them through the shadows. And they had to be the one to do it.

"Let's go." said Y/n, walking through the two and placing hands on both of their shoulders before taking the lead.

It wasn't long before they reached the town. Three of them crawling along the ridge, the town destroyed and full of debris. The air was still, shuffling in mud and lifting their head. They saw the town up ahead.

Watching ashes and crumbling stones fall to the ground, Y/n clenched their jaw. They didn't want to show it, but they've given up. Nobody has been gone as long as Bull, came back alive or been heard from. Anger is the second stage. Past grief and denial, it was the life of a soldier. They had to remind themselves of it. Their job wasn't to live, to make memories, to find love, it was to get the job done or die trying. And Bull was one to die trying. Yet, their stomach churned and twisted, a feeling they rarely had, a small spark of hope.

Hours passed, the ghost town was still crumbling and there was no sign of Bull. No sign of anybody. The Germans left the town to rot and they were there to find a dead man. Searching what was left of buildings, stables and forests, there was no sign of him. And the twisting had untangled itself, there was nothing left.

"Okay…" Y/n threw the gun over their shoulder, "Let's move out. Krauts could be all over this place in seconds."

The two men glanced up at them, faces gloomy and hard. It was hard to tell. Someone had to be the leader, the one to bring the honest truth and harsh reality. Bull was the one to do that.

"Just one more search-" blurted Ramirez.

"That's an order." spat Y/n.

Without protest or another word, the trio made their way back to camp.

Catching sight of American soldiers in the distance, the three made it back. Hearts sunken and heavy, there was nothing left, only the memories of their charismatic leader. Settling down close to the road, they were met with a squad of other troops. Not part of Easy, but probably Fox or Dog.

"Get some rest," muttered Y/n, patting the others shoulders.

It was going to be tough, but they took their own advice. Placing their backpack on the ground, they lay down and feel their eyes grow heavy.

"Come on! Move it!" yelled Sobel, running alongside Easy company. 3 miles up, 3 miles down. It was the first week of training in Camp Toccoa and they were running Currahee. What in a messed up world brought Captain Sobel and made him a CO?

"Pick up the pace ladies! Come on! Let's go!" yelled Sobel, running ahead toward the top.

Beaten down by the sun, Y/n blinked rapidly, their sweat going into their eyes. Wiping their face, they felt their body growing heavier and heavier with each step, becoming unbearable by the second. Slowing down, many of the troopers jogged past them, patting their back as they passed as encouragement. It was almost no use at this point, Y/n already had a strike and had to do the mountain the first day. They were not going to make it, they knew that. It was more trying to explain to Sobel, but there's not much hope in the conversation.

Accepting fate, Y/n slowed down and stopped, but was abruptly grabbed and pulled along. Stumbling, they looked up at the person dragging them.

"Hold on to me," ordered Bull, his southern accent sending shivers down their spine and the smile. Oh, the smile.

"It's alright-" said Y/n, trying to escape from his grasp, knowing Sobel's reaction to other troopers helping.

"Hold on," said Bull, smiling at them, "Just don't say nothing to Sobel."

"What if we get caught-"

"Don't worry about that, I'll take him."

"I'm sure you can."

Shaking their head, they stifled a laugh. Bull, noticing their reaction, chuckled along with them.

"Do not help that man!" screamed Sobel in the distance, Y/n and Bull stifling their laughter as they continued jogging behind the group.

Suddenly, the camp wasn't so bad. It wasn't just constant routines and training, it became something much more. A family. They didn't sit by themselves or in silence at meals, they laughed and shared stories. No more sleeping without whispers, constant chatter and storytelling, with laughs here and there. It wasn't so lonely anymore.

"Y/n! Y/n!" called out distant voices. They got louder and closer. Snapping their eyes open, Y/n jumped up at the two soldiers in front of them. Smiles wide on their faces, eyes of disbelief, they hauled them by the arms and pointed toward the roads. Picking themselves on their feet, Y/n looked at the growing crowd of soldiers around a jeep. Continuing toward it, they could feel their heart drop and stomach fill with butterflies. There he was.

Bull came into view as the crowd dispersed, he stood tall with a dirty face. Mixed emotions exploded inside of Y/n as their feet picked up speed, ignoring the searing pain in their abdomen and they jumped into Bull’s arms. Whistles and snickering erupted from the group that surrounded the two. Arms wrapped around his neck and Y/n dug their face into the nape of Bull’s neck. Tears threatened to fall, but they held them back. Bull’s arms wrapped around them and Y/n could feel him smile on their shoulder.

As soon as the others left, they let him have it.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Denver-“ started Y/n, letting a few tears fall onto his shoulder. Bull laughed softly, pulling them tighter against him. They slapped his arm over and over, while all he did was laugh at their attempts of getting mad. Lifting their head, Y/n held his face and leaned their foreheads against each other. “Don’t do that ever again..”

“I promise darlin’, I will never leave without you by my side.”

“I mean it, Denver.”

Putting them down, Bull smiled softly, caressing their cheeks. Y/n leaned into their touch. Leaning down, Bull pressed their lips together for a kiss, sweet and soft. Y/n froze but kissed him back, smiling and wrapping their arms around his waist. Never in a million years would they have thought they'd get Bull back, and kiss him nonetheless. Sparks exploded inside them and Y/n couldn’t stop themselves from smiling. Y/n couldn’t help but thank the sniper for being a bad shot, now that they had Bull by their side.

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! Part 27 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Oh guys this is a hard read for my first post in a hot second. I have been slow at writing this, cause this is super important and I don't want to have it be bad, or tacky. This is obviously horrible what happened to these people, and sometimes that horrific a of an event is hard to put into words. This is in means no way to offend anyone.

Disclaimer: End part of episode 9, if you are not comfortable with this please don't read.

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, anyone else please let me know.

We again piled into the trucks, we were making good time, but it still felt like years being in the back of the vehicle. Babe had kept my secret from everyone like I had asked, but I caught him sending me looks throughout the night. The sadness still lingering in his eyes from the conversation we had had previously. All I could do was send him small smiles. 

We passed through the green countryside, chatting amongst ourselves. The rolling plains seemed endless, as they stretched out for miles, further than the eye could see. 

The trucks passed through the outskirts of the small rural town, a decrepit barn sat on the side of the road. Even from over the roar of the engines from all of the vehicles driving by, I could still hear the yells of men. I look to the barn curious about the commotion, everyone else also peering over. The barn door swung open as soldiers tossed men onto the ground, I could see from here the men were wearing German uniforms. I couldn’t look away fast enough as the soldier’s standing behind the men raised their guns, shooting them in the back of the head. I turned my eyes away from the scene, not wanting to witness the brutal killings. 

The other men seemed unfazed.

Except for O’Keefe, who looked around to his fellow comrades with shock on his face. They didn’t return the sorrow that etched his features, only shrugging their shoulders, or smiling at the man for looking so distraught by what he had seen. 

His eyes finally landed on mine. I returned the look of sadness and horror, but mine was worn with memories behind it. O’Keefe eyes shone with new fear and sadness, whereas mine was tattered and old. O’Keefe had not yet known the horrors of war, I guess that’s why the men didn’t reciprocate his concern. We all had seen much worse than a few men being shot in the head. 

What an odd statement to make. To realise. 

O’Keefe’s reaction was only natural, but for us it wasn’t out of the ordinary. It was a sad reality to think we were accustomed to the horrors we had seen.    

We finally pulled into the little town. The men quickly departed the trucks, getting orders from the Lieutenants. We weren’t staying the night, just stopping for a break, before continuing on in our journey. 

“I have to go on a patrol through the woods.” Don said as he approached me. I nodded my head, giving him a smile. There wasn’t much for me to do here, we weren’t unpacking, so I hung around the officers in case they needed me for something.   

“Ok, be safe.” I placed a kiss on his cheek. I watched as he walked away joining the rest of the men he was going with. 

—----------------------------------------------

“Emily! Guys! Hey, have you seen any of the officers?” Frank yelled from behind us. I turned to face Perconte, his normal playful expression filled with urgency. 

“No.” Babe, Lieb and I all stated. 

“Is everything ok, Frank?” I asked the man, my face changing to concern for my friend. He had been on one of the patrols. Everyone else had come back from theirs except for their group. But Frank was by himself, where were the other men? Even Don had come and gone, saying they hadn’t found anything. Frank didn’t answer me though, sprinting from one soldier to the next, asking the same questions. 

I watched him, my brows furrowed and lip caught between my teeth. Babe and Lieb seemed to have brushed off the odd interaction going back to the conversation they were having. 

“Ain’t that right, Em?” Babe nudged me, but my gaze was still fixed on Frank running around frantically. 

“Em?” Lieb asked, clicking his fingers in front of my face. 

“I think something’s wrong.” I told them, my stomach churning. I felt unsettled, something not sitting right in my gut. 

“He’s probably fine.” Lieb said, lighting his smoke, taking a deep drag from the cigarette. “Don’t look so worried, Emmy.” He tried to reassure me, stroking his hand down my back. But I shook my head. I set off after Frank as he ran into one of the buildings. 

“Em, where are ya going?” Babe called after me. But I didn’t turn to explain. I ran after Frank, gaining on him as I sprinted, dodging my way through the crowd.   

Frank found Winters first. The red haired man walked out of the building they had been temporarily occupying. I hung back not wanting to interrupt them, but I was desperate to know why Perco was so frantic. 

“Major Winters, Sir.” Frank started chasing after the officer who walked briskly towards where I stood. 

“Uhh, we found something.” Perco didn’t seem to know how to phrase his words. The pair passed in front of me, I followed behind them closely, eavesdropping in on their conversation. 

“We’re out on patrol and we came across this…” Frank stopped trying to find the right way to describe what he had seen.

“What, what, what, what?” Major Winters prompted Perco trying to get him to spit out what he wanted to say. 

“Frank, Frank, what is it?” Winters seemed just as concerned as I did. Perco stood in front of Dick, mouth agape, trying to think of how he wanted to explain himself. 

“I don’t know, sir.” He uttered, shaking his head. 

At that moment my stomach dropped. I didn’t know why, but something about how flustered, confused and scared Perco looked set me on edge. 

This war wasn’t pretty, hell no war was. But there were horrific things done, so many lives lost. There were a number of explanations as to what their patrol found, each one just as dreadful as the next.  

Winters saw that too. He loaded a couple groups of men into the back of the trucks, myself included. With Frank in the front car with the rest of the officers, he gave directions back to where the patrol waited.

I sat between Don and Lieb, no one seemed to take Frank’s worries seriously. The men in the bed talked and chatted casually to each other. I sat elbows on my knees and head in my hands, I couldn’t stop my leg from jittering and my stomach churning. 

We drove into the dense forest, following the dirt roads and Frank’s directions. I watched as Perco lifted his arm pointing left, my eyes followed. 

My heart dropped as my eyes landed on the gruesome sight. 

There in the thick of the trees, was a clearing. 

Within the open space was a fence, lined with barbed wire. The tall barrier loomed over a muddy field. In the middle sat wooden huts and a bigger building sitting at the edge. Outside of the fence was a tall watch house. 

I knew from the first glance what this was. 

No, I knew from the smell. 

That was the first thing to hit me. The stench of sweet rotting flesh filled my senses, it felt as if it clung to everything, there was no way to escape it. The men around me screwed up their noses and flinched away from the foul scent, their attention finally captured. 

The chatter had died as soon as the camp came into view. From a glance around the bed I could tell a lot of the men were confused, unsure of what they were looking at. Just like Frank; they were unable to put into words exactly what they were seeing.       

Within the confines of the barrier stood people. Well, they didn’t look exactly like people. I could see, even from a distance, their bodies were unfed and unwashed. 

The trucks stopped, the men slowly disembarking. It was silent, as they all tried to understand what exactly they were looking at. 

I jumped out immediately walking closer to the barrier. There were two fences. A perimeter between the two, enough for people to walk in. A body lay between the two barriers, gaunt and lifeless. 

The men inside the gate all wore the same sets of clothes, blue striped pyjamas. I swallowed the lump in my throat, tears already brimming in my eyes. 

It was one thing to learn about in school, but another to see it in real life. It all but consumed me. 

Everyone else still had no idea what this really was. Eyes all filled with questions and horror. 

Winters slowly approached the gate. The men inside stood waiting. I wonder if they knew if we were good or bad, but they didn’t run. They gathered around looking back at us as we looked in on them. 

There were no women, no children, only men inside. But they didn’t look like it. They all appeared pale and lifeless, only skin and bone, barely moving. 

The men opened the gate as everyone gathered in front of the opening. 

“Major, sir?” Christenson questioned, asking if he should proceed in opening the next gate. The gate that would allow these people to be free of their confines, and allow us to enter their decimated prison. 

“Open it up.” Winters commanded. The men nodded their heads, cutting off the chain that secured the compound closed.   

“Stand back, back it up, back, back.” Christenson commanded the prisoners as he tried to swing open the gate. 

They stepped back revealing smoking huts and even more men, ones who didn’t seem strong enough to approach the barrier. 

I couldn’t hold back my tears as they slipped down my face. I looked from person to person I could see the torture they had endured etched into their features, but I’m sure that was only a second. Only a small glimpse into the years of horror they had to live through. 

How many people did they have to watch die, family, friends, peers. Wondering if they were next or secretly praying that someone would just end their pain.

I wonder how long they were kept in these cages like animals waiting for their slaughter? 

How could people be so cruel to their own kind? 

We moved forward slowly as a group, the prisoners watched us, they looked apprehensive for a moment before they all seemed to realise we were not the enemy. 

They moved forwards, hands reaching out grabbing at the soldiers who walked in. I felt the sleeves of my shirt being tugged glancing to the side to find the men holding tightly onto me. 

“I’m sorry.” Was all I could manage, they didn’t even understand what I was saying but I just wanted them to know how awful I felt. 

A man reached for me embracing me in his arms, I held him back. I could feel under the material of his clothes, his thin frame, I could feel every rib and bone as I hugged him. 

He sobbed into my shoulder whispering in German, I didn’t understand what exactly he was saying but it sounded like he was thanking us. 

“Liebgott, Liebgott!” Winters called from the front of the group. My heart stopped. Lieb, my best friend, my rock. He had no idea his own people were one of the main targets in Hitlers regime.

I watched Lipton move back through the crowd yelling Lieb’s name. Joe and Don stood guard just outside the gate, guns in hand. 

Lipton brought him back through the crowd. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, he glanced over to find my gaze. 

Joe tilted his head, without words he was asking me if I was alright. I weakly nodded my head still wrapping my arms around the German man who wept into my shoulder. 

There was no way I could stop Lieb from finding out, and it would break him. All I could do was be there for my friend. 

Lipton spurred the men into action, instructing the men to give these people rations, blankets, food and water anything we could spare. 

The man holding me stepped back collapsing to the floor, I glanced around looking for water. 

“Water, can I get some water over here!” I yelled, Babe moved quickly holding out a canteen for me to take. 

I unscrewed the lid, pouring water into the man’s mouth. He was exhausted, as if he was holding on to the last of his strength until help came. When he knew he was safe he finally let go. 

I moved from person to person, tending to their ailments. But most of them I couldn't do much for, it wasn’t like they were actively bleeding out like all the other injuries I had become adjusted to. They were sick and starving. 

The only thing I could do was offer food and water. But each time I lifted my head the numbers grew, the more that gathered, the more ill they looked.  

A man approached me holding another in his arms. The man in his arms looked so weak, nothing to him but skin and bone, so pale he was almost translucent. 

The prisoner holding the man spoke quickly in German, his eyes pleading with me to help. I held out my arms as he passed over the very ill man. 

I let out a gasp as he was placed in my arms, he weighed almost nothing, I could feel every piece of him under my fingertips. 

I knelt to the ground holding the German man in my lap, trying to figure out what I could do to help him.  

“How can I help you?” I muttered under my breath. 

“Sing bitte für mich.” The man that lay in my arms said. I tilted my head listening to his whispered words. 

“Lieb!” I called, he rushed over kneeling next to me. 

“Sing bitte für mich.” The man repeated himself. 

“He wants you to sing for him.” Lieb said softly. I nodded at the man, if that's what he wanted I would do anything. 

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are grey.” I sang quietly to the dying man, the song my mother used to sing as a lullaby to me. 

“You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away.” The man reached his hand up cupping my face as I sang for him. A tear slipped down my cheek. Lieb sat close and watched us. His own eyes glistened. 

“The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms.” The man smiled at me, more tears falling down my cheeks as I held him in my arms. 

“When I awoke, dear, I was mistaken, so I hung my head and cried.” The man brushed away my tears, as his hand fell back down to his side. His breathing faded. 

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take my sunshine away.” A sob left me as the man stared up at the sky. 

I let go of his hand, resting it by his side. I moved from underneath him, lying him gently on the floor. 

Joe encased me in his arms as I sobbed into his chest. He pulled away, I looked up to find Don standing over us. He opened his arms for me, I stood from my position on the floor and moved into his embrace. His hand ran down my back as I cried. 

We pulled apart, Lieb had gone and gotten a blanket. He gave it to me to lay over the man. I bent down, closing his eyes to make him at peace and gently placed the blanket over his body. 

“I’m so sorry.” I whispered as I stood again. I wiped my tears away.  

Lieb was called away to translate, as Don and I moved around the camp, trying our best to help the men who came to us. 

We stuck close to each other not wanting to stray from the other’s side. 

I kept glancing over my shoulder to find Lieb with the officers and one of the German men. He was translating for them. I was just waiting for the bomb to be dropped, the truth to be revealed. 

“Everything ok?” Don asked, I shook my head. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, coming closer. 

“Don, this camp. These aren’t prisoners of war.” I started, unsure of how I was going to explain this to him. His brows furrowed as he listened. 

“These people are innocent. They were dragged from their homes, away from their families. The only thing they have in common is that they are different.” There were so many groups here, but anyone who was ‘imperfect’ or ‘different’ was casted out. 

“What do you mean?” Don couldn’t understand that these people did nothing wrong. I’m sure his mind went to why would they lock these people up if they were innocent?

“Jews, Poles, Roma, musicians, people with disabilities, people of colour, this is who they have captured. And this isn’t the only one! There are thousands of these camps, some far worse than this. Don, Hilter wants a superior race, anyone who doesn’t fit that bill he’s exterminating.” Don couldn’t stop the horror in his eyes as he realised my words. 

“You’re saying there are more of these camps? That more people are in this condition?” Don asked, his eyes flicking around our surroundings imaging more of these exact situations. 

“They split up the families, women and children together and then the men together. These camps cover all of Germany and some other countries as well.” I explained the best I could to Don, who didn’t look like he was able to wrap his head around the information spilling from my lips. 

“Wait, how do you know this?” He asked his brows furrowed together as he glanced over at me. 

I bit my tongue, this wasn’t the time to expose my true self, all of this was too much in itself. 

“The nurses have been talking about it, I didn’t quite believe it till now.” I lied through my teeth, but Don didn’t notice, he was too wrapped up in the scene playing before us. 

“What are we going to do?” He asked, his sweet eyes full of sorrow as he looked over each person that walked in front of us.  

“I don’t know?” I answered honestly, as I stared off into the distance.   

I again glanced over to Lieb who was translating for the officers. Each man with their own look of horror and shock on their face. I bit my lip, waiting and watching. 

“Juden, Juden.” The prisoner they were talking to repeated. I didn’t need to be translated, I could see it clearly on Joe’s face what the man had said. 

“They’re Jews.” Lieb uttered, in his own disbelief and rage. Lieb was a loyal man. This camp, this attack, was on his own people, his family. 

“Lieb knows.” I told Don who was giving water to a man. I wanted to run over and hug him, but he was keeping his composure, still translating for the officers. So I turned my back and helped the men who gathered before me.  

The further we walked into the camp the more awful it became. The huts the men were living in were burned down to the foundations, burnt skeletons still resided in the ash and rubble. 

“Jesus Christ!” Don muttered covering his face with a piece of fabric, the smell was so strong it almost made it unbearable to breathe. 

“Look at their arms.” Don pointed out two men who lay still in the ruins. Numbers etched into the flesh on their wrists. 

“Like cattle.” Babe shook his head. We walked in silence through it all.  

We helped as much as we could, going into the huts and bringing people out. Each time I stepped inside, my heart clenched and cracked, it was tearing me up. 

The tears had stopped long ago, there was nothing more left to cry. I just needed to help, I think at some point I switched off, just to maintain some sanity, because before I knew it we were back in the beds of the trucks.

-----------------------------------

Chapter 28

[mrsalwayswrite]

These Hands Were Made For You (Bill Guarnere x Reader)

Based on this post by @problematicfavesareproblematic​ because its amazing!

This is my first time writing Wild Bill. Lemme know what y’all think!

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension, palming (is that a warning?)

Words:2600

Tag List: @happyveday​ @sydney-m​ @saritanotserena​

  As soon as you stepped into the barn-converted-to-mess-hall in Albourne, you knew what was coming. 

 "There she is, fuckin' goddess of war herself! Come to see how the toughest, most handsome sonofabitch in the 506 is doin' this morning?" 

 You just chuckled and shook your head at his exaggerated smug look. "Yeah, Bill. Something like that."

 Guarnere winked at you and you could not figure out how it was possible for such a simple action to be so dirty. The way he tilted his head just slightly, the corner of his mouth lifted in a half smirk followed by a quick wink...you could feel heat pooling in your belly and your breath catch. 

 The cocky grin on his face grew as he saw the hint of pink on your cheeks. He knew what that wink did to you and he LOVED using it against you. 

 Bastard. 

 "Something you need, Y/L/N?" Martin asked from the table closest to the door.  

 "Yeah, any of you seen Lip?"

 Luz answered from the table, cigarette dangling from between his lips. "Think he went back to the house to grab something. Why?"

 You waved Luz off as you could see him start to stand, stepping further into the barn. "Just need to ask him something. Winters is in a meeting otherwise I'd ask him."

 "Why don't you take a seat, he should be back soon."

 "Perfect spot saved right here for the Valkyrie of Easy!" Bill announced, patting the open spot on the bench next to him. 

 You rolled your eyes but relented, moving past the other table to drop next to Guarnere. On his other side sat Heffron, still looking a bit wide-eyed and nervous that he somehow won the coveted spot with the Toccoa men. Toye sat across, giving you a brief nod when you sat down. Perconte, Christianson, Skinny, and Grant also took up residence around the table. Perco seemed to have been in the middle of telling some overly, exaggerated story. 

 Most of Easy relaxed in the barn. The Toccoa men were grateful for the break from the front-line and hot food instead of K rations. All the replacements were eager for the next jump, ready to soil their ODs, not truly understanding that war would only take from them, never give. The division between Toccoa men and replacements was painfully obvious. 

 Heffron leaned around Guarnere to meet your eyes. "Hey, sorry again about the fellas yesterday. They've been like that since training."

 "Not your fault, Babe." You shrugged, running a hand through your hair. 

 "What's he talkin' about?" Guarnere narrowed his eyes at you. Even Toye across the table was staring at you in concern. 

 "Nothing, Bill. It's fine."

 "If you're sayin' its fine then it ain't fuckin' fine." He growled. When he realized you were not going to elaborate, he turned on Babe. "What the fuck happened?"

 The redheaded replacement looked like he would rather be anywhere else in the world in that moment than being interrogated by Wild Bill. "Some of the men were...ah, tryin' to...um… proposition her." He finished with a wince. 

 A long beat of silence.

 Then Guarnere exploded. 

 He pounded the table with a tight fist, the table shaking at the impact.  A snarl on his lips, he started to rise from his seat, eyeing the tables further away full of replacements. "Who the fuck was it? Someone from our platoon? Imma fuckin' kill 'em. Who was it?"

 "No," you cut in, grabbing his arm and restraining him, hoping to stop him before he worked himself up into a frenzy, "some replacements from third."

 He growled but let you pull him back down. "Goddamn replacements. They touch you?"

 "No, Bill. I handled it."

 Toye spoke up, eyeing his friend carefully as if to see if he was going to have to prevent a replacement's murder or help hide the body. "What you do?"

 You smirked, squeezing Guarnere's arm for good measure then pulled your hand back into your lap. "Told them if they tried to pull that shit again, I'd rip their cocks off and mail them to their mothers."

 All the men at the table either winced or shifted uncomfortably at the mental image. 

 "Hey, don't you be touchin' no one's cocks." Bill said, fury still on his face but also amusement. 

 You raised an eyebrow, "what would you rather I have done? Swung at them? Give Sink a reason to send me packing?"

 "Nah, you swing at 'em, they might fall in love." He winked at you again, telling you he knew exactly what he was talking about. Underneath the table, hidden from view, his knuckles skimmed the outside of your thigh. You attempted to hide the shiver that caused but knew you failed when Guarnere chuckled quietly.

 "Why would that matter?" Babe asked innocently. 

 "Oh, here we go." Toye sighed. 

 "Shut up Joe, the kid asked alright." Guarnere started his story, pleased to have a new, rapt audience. "So here we are, back in Toccoa, right? Most of us have already arrived and started trainin' with goddamn Sobel. Then one day this beautiful broad shows up and we're told she's joinin' the paratroopers. None of us believe it. Why would a broad be joinin'? Don't make no fuckin' sense. So the next day we're supposed to be startin' to learn self-defense and guess who I get paired up with? Huh? Lovely Y/L/N over here. Right, so I'm fuckin' pissed cause I don't wanna be fightin' no broad but Sobel is watchin' like a hawk. I tell her I'll pretend to swing at her and she should just fall down. Play fightin', ya know? Like when youse a kid. I take a swing at her, thinkin' she knew the plan. She easily dodges my swing and before I can right myself, she lands a punch on me. Knocked me flat on my ass and seein' stars. I look up to see this goddess standin' over me, bloody knuckles and all, and she says 'you better get up and fight me like a man before I knock you on your ass again'."

 "So, what you do?" Heffron asked, surprise clearly written all over his face. 

 Guarnere tapped the table with his finger. "What did I do? Well, I got up and told her that when this war is over, I'm gonna fuckin' marry her, that's what I was gonna do."

 Those who had heard the story before chuckled while Heffron sat there, head tilted and eyes bouncing between you and Guarnere like he was waiting for the punchline still. 

 "Why? No offense, Y/L/N." 

 Guarnere threw his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. "Cause she hits harder than any fella I've ever known, includin' me brother Henry. Boxin' champion that one was. Now if that ain't a reason to marry someone, I don't know what is."

 "And she puts up with your bullshit." Toye deadpanned. 

 You rolled your eyes, sliding out from underneath Guarnere's arm. "That's just words unless there's a ring and I don't plan on marrying for a while yet. Still gotta win a war first." You stood up, smoothing down your ODs. "'Sides, maybe by then I'll find someone who doesn't annoy me so much."

 "Nah, you'd miss my handsome face too much."

 "You keep telling yourself that, Bill."

 "One day you'll come around." He winked, making your insides warm. You would never understand how that was possible. The Philadelphian pointed a finger at you. "You lemme know if any of those replacements bother you again. Can't have those bastards propositionin' my future wife."

 "See you later, boys." You said, not even bothering to answer him. You headed towards the door, intent on finding Lipton; but also to get away from the man who gave you such feels without even saying a word. Then when he did speak, complimenting and claiming you in front of the others…. it was becoming harder and harder to keep your hands and your lips to yourself. 

 ***** 

 You leaned against the doorframe, admiring the man who was too caught up in writing a letter home to have noticed you yet. He twirled the pencil between his fingers as he thought about his words. The chair creaked under him as he shifted, leaning forward against the wooden desk to continue writing. The small bedroom only consisted of the desk, chair and bed. Guarnere's duffle bag was thrown in a corner with things haphazardly pulled out. The NCOs had been billeted in a house together, everyone able to have their own rooms unlike the enlisted men who were forced to share a converted barn.

 When you had first met him, and your first real encounter resulted in you punching him, you had thought he was the most unhelpful, condescending, little shit; and you had no problems telling him that for weeks after. When he had bounced back to his feet and proposed...you had laughed so uncontrollably, it had taken a sharp bark from Lipton to get you to focus again. 

 Over the following weeks, the bastard would openly flirt with you and practically pummel anyone else who tried to. Sometime around Fort Benning, your own feelings toward him started to change. No longer was he a man you loathed. You found yourself happy he was in your platoon, that he hovered around you keeping assholes from other companies away, that you enjoyed his flirting and when you two were alone... you reciprocated. 

 Actually, the first time you flirted back, he almost choked on his tongue he was so surprised. After that, things shifted between you two. 

 He continued openly flirting but understood you could not since you were under far more scrutiny and Sobel was looking for ANY reason to get rid of you. 

 For two years Guarnere had been in your life...and you hoped for the rest of it too. 

 "Enjoyin' the view, sweetheart?"

 You smiled at him as he leaned back in the chair, legs still under the desk. "Should I be?"

 He scoffed. "You know you like what you see...I'll tell you though," his eyes raked over you, "you're a fuckin' goddess with a body to drive a man crazy."

 You laughed, covering your mouth with your hand to minimize the sound, as he winked at you before turning back to his letter. 

 "The other NCOs said you were going out tonight for drinks."

 "Yeah, yeah. Told 'em if I didn't finish this letter for my ma, she'd jump on a boat and come find me. Got three letters from her already. Last one she threatened to come find me. So, I told the fellas I'd meet them there."

 The muffled sounds of the other NCOs drifted up the stairs; they were gathered in the common room getting ready to head out. With that in mind, you moved silently across the room to where he sat at the chair. Coming up behind him, you dragged your hands over his broad shoulders then down his firm chest, stilled his motions. 

 "Y/N…"

 You loved touching him, could not get enough of it when you were able to. What you also loved doing was paying him back for teasing you. 

 One of your hands continued to travel downward until you palmed his cock. He froze, pencil hovering just about his letter. Without a word, you slowly, torturously, stroked him over his trousers. 

 "Fuck, sweetheart." He groaned, tipping his head back slightly. 

 "You said earlier I wasn't supposed to be touching anyone's cocks...does that include yours?"

 Turning his head, he looked at you out of the corner of his eye but before he could speak, you took the tip of his earlobe between your teeth. 

 "Hands on the desk, Sergeant." You growled in his ear. 

 Immediately, his hands slammed on the wooden desk, palms down. The pencil fell to the floor. Letter now forgotten on the desk. 

 "Mmm, yes, sir… you keep them there." You continued slowly stroking his cock over his trousers. "You have no idea how bad I wanted to kiss you earlier when we were at the mess hall." You licked up the curve of his ear, feeling him shudder under your touch. Your hand gave him a gentle squeeze as you continued whispering in his ear. "Think I should punish you for teasing me earlier? That wink you gave me...all the dirty images it put in my head. Want me to tell you about them?"

 "Fuck, sweetheart, yes."

 "I thought about you bending me over one of those tables. Notice how they are at the perfect height? How good you would feel inside me. How deep you would be."

 One of his hands started to move off the table, drifting towards where your hand played with him. 

 You nipped his earlobe sharply, making him hiss. "Hands up, Sergeant, or no reward later."

 "You're gonna kill me, darlin'." His hand slammed back on the desk. 

 You licked a line up his neck before pressing your lips against his ear again. The pace of your hand increased, his chest rising and falling to match. "Remember that time in Mackall where we snuck into the parachute packing building and fucked on the silks. You couldn't wait to get inside of me and almost tore my new ODs. So I made you wait and watch as I started touching myself. After someone came in and we almost got caught."

 His hips were now rutting against your hand, the chair shaking with his movements.  His hands were in white-knuckled fists on the desks, trembling with his desire to get them on you. 

 Unable to help yourself, you grabbed his face with your free hand, turning it to press a bruising, messy kiss to his lips. He greedily took ownership of your mouth and deepened the kiss. He plundered your mouth with his tongue, reminding you how his mouth and skillful tongue alone could drive you wild. 

 Finally you broke away, pressing your forehead against his temple as you attempted to refill your lungs with the oxygen he had stolen. "God, I wish I could kiss you out there. Let everyone know I am yours. Maybe share quarters with you instead of sneaking around like teenagers. Fuck whenever we want."

 "I'd be the luckiest, fuckin' bastard in all of Easy. You're mine. My goddess."

 "There is one thing I need right now. I need the toughest, most handsome sonofabitch above me. I need my man inside me." You squeezed your hand, making him tip his head back and loudly groan. "Now the other NCOs are just downstairs. Think you can keep quiet?"

 He pressed a hard and fast kiss to your lips. "Oh darlin', it ain't me whose gonna have to keep from screamin'."

 "Mmm, think you can help me out?"

 "I'd do anythin' for ya…." He turned in his seat, hands now stroking your waist with a completely wicked and sinful smirk on his face. "Go lock the door."

 You stepped back, admiring the disheveled look on Guarnere, how his eyes blazed with passion and desire. For you. Without tearing your gaze from his, you shut the door and locked it behind you. 

 "Jesus Christ, you're a dream."

 "Only for you. Come on, Sergeant, show me how good you are with your...arsenal."

 Before you could move, he leapt out of his chair, making it clatter on the floor as it tipped over in his enthusiasm. He picked you up easily and tossed you on the bed. You laughed only to be immediately silenced by his mouth slamming against yours, a moan drawn from you as his talented fingers rid you of your clothing with an almost inhuman speed. 

 *****

 Later that night Guarnere was quite late for getting to the pub but he did not mind one bit. Especially since his bed now smelled like you…. And he had been able to remind you how much he loved you. 

 Quite vigorously. 

[stillbandofbrothersthirsty]

Rock Bottom

Joe Liebgott x OC

*Rated T for language and adult themes. (5,471 words)

“Have you guys seen that new girl?” Frank Perconte asked as he squeezed into a small seat along the dining table bench.

“What new girl?” Bill Guarnere asked through a bite of food.

“The new intelligence girl,” Frank said as means of explanation.

“She’s an intelligence officer?” Joe Liebgott asked.

“I heard she was with the OSS before this,” Pat Christensen added.

“I don’t think intelligence officer,” Frank pushed the food around on his plate, “but apparently she speaks like 20 languages.”

“No,” Joe said doubtfully, “no way, that’s so many.”

“Who knows? Once you know one language it’s easier to pick up others,” David Webster said.

Joe shot him an annoyed look.

“I think she’s from the Bronx too, Web.”

“Well hey, there ya go! There’s so many languages going around in the Bronx, she probably picked them up there. It’s so much easier to learn languages when you’re young ya-“

“Where’d you get all this info?” Bill cut David off.

“Luz.” Frank was barely intelligible with his mouth full.

“Hm,” Bill grunted. The information was likely true coming from George Luz, the kid had a way of finding things out.

Their formal introduction to the newest G-2 recruit occurred the next day prior to starting their classroom instruction. The men hadn’t expected the classroom time. They knew the forecast had predicted rain but they didn’t dare to hope Sobel would let them off just because of “a little water”. However, by eleven, the early morning drizzle had grown into a downpour that even Sobel didn’t want to be caught in. He relinquished his company to the instruction of basic compass and map reading.

“Gentleman,” Sobel addressed them dryly, his hands folded behind his back, “before we get started, I would like to introduce you to the newest member of the intelligence general staff.”

The men were gathered in a large tent propped up by recently constructed whitewood. Beside Sobel stood a woman dressed neatly in an army issued pencil skirt, jacket and tie.

“This is Valerie Marchetti, she will be working with the intelligence office as a linguist.”

“Told ya she knew like 20 languages,” Frank whispered to Joe.

“Italian!” Bill nudged Johnny Martin.

“Please make every effort to make her feel welcome,” Sobel finished unenthusiastically, “Alright, let's get started. Radio men, follow Ms. Marchetti.”

“Lucky!” Floyd Talbert clapped George on the shoulder as he stood up. George winked at him with a grin.

“So, what’s she like?” Floyd asked as they headed back to the barracks.

“Aw she’s an angel,” George enthused, “so sweet, and she knows her stuff too!”

“You’d think anyone that pretty was an angel, Luz,” Frank said.

“That,” George said, “is because angels are beautiful.”

But George wasn’t the only one over the moon to have a woman among them. All of the Toccoa men were eager for any chance to ogle Valerie. They were oversexed and grateful to have a beautiful woman in their midst, if only for the hope of earning a smile. Most of the men were limited in their interactions with her seeing as she was part of the intelligence general staff but somehow Bill really got to know her, and by extension, Johnny Martin did too. They became a trio on nights out. Bill jumping from group to group, socializing with all the men while the more mellow Johnny posted up at a table with Valerie.

“Does she actually know 20 languages?” Shifty asked Bill innocently.

“Nah, not actually twenty, but she knows quite a few. She’s damn smart!” Bill said taking a long drink of his beer.

“What languages does she know?” Joe asked.

“Italian, her pa’s Italian. Polish ‘cuz of her ma. Yiddish and I think her German’s okay too,” Bill listed.

Joe nodded thoughtfully, “not bad,” he admitted. “Not gonna be any use to us if we go to Japan though.”

Bill shrugged, “who knows where we’re goin’, they got her here for a reason.”

“Was she posted somewhere else before this?” Moe Alley asked.

“She was a code breaker! Can you believe that? So smart,” Bill shook his head in awe.

“Ya sound like you’re in love there, Bill,” Joe teased.

“God damn right, I love that girl. She’s great!”

Joe chuckled, she was a good looking dame that was for sure. Just his type: curvaceous, dark hair and warm eyes. He admired her just as much as every other guy in the bar. There were plenty of local women around, some of who Joe had gotten to know quite well, but there was something about that army pencil skirt that just did it for Joe.

“She gotta fella?” Joe heard himself asking.

“Why? You interested Joe?” Bill asked.

Joe shrugged, “just curious.”

Bill looked over his shoulder where Valerie sat smiling, her full lips painted a rich red. “I don’t think so, but I’ll tell ya what Joe, she’s not any ol’ dame. She’s a spicy one that’s for sure. She’ll tell you what’s what.”

Yeah, Joe found that out for himself the first time he experienced classroom instruction with Valerie Marchetti.

“Well, actually we’d actually refer to this group as the Allgemeine SS,” Valerie said.

“Deutsche Ausrüstungswerke is German Equipment factories so I don’t-“ Joe defended.

“Well yes, but it’s important to know that this is an armaments division under the SS, Allgemeine SS.”  
“Are you sure? You said yourself you aren’t fluent in German, are you sure you’re translating-“

“Yes. I don’t speak fluent German but I know these terms and I know the organization of the SS. You would do well to listen to me, I know what I’m talking about.” Valerie snapped.

“Okay, calm down,” Joe threw his hands up.

Valerie sniffed at his gaslighting before spinning on her heel and walking away. After that it was game over, nothing about her was attractive to Joe any longer; not her silky, dark curls, not her full red lips, not the way the dark lines on her hose travelled seductively up her leg. He decided she was more trouble than she was worth.

A cheer rose up from the dart boards that Friday night where Bill, Johnny, and Bull were playing darts with Valerie. She was wearing trousers that night, which Joe found rather flattering. But he caught himself as his gaze travelled down from her waist, and quickly looked away.

“Okay, if I make this last one, drinks are on me.” Valerie bit her lip in concentration.

“Well now I kinda want you to win,” Bill said jovially.

“Ah!” The men around her cheered again as the dart hit another bullseye.

“Damn, how do you do it?” asked Don Malarkey in awe.

Valeria smiled coyly and shrugged. “Who needs a drink?” she asked to the men gathered.

“Nah, you can’t possibly cover all the drinks here,” Bill held up his hand in protest, a cigarette burning between his fingers.

“Don’t worry about it Bill, I pretty much owe everyone in here a drink anyways after the way they all tripped over themselves to buy me a drink when I first got here.”

The men sung her praises all the way up to the bar where Valerie instructed the tender to pour everyone in proximity a beer and to put it on her tab. She had come up right where Joe had been standing with Moe. Valerie glanced down at his nearly empty glass, “you need a beer Joe?” she asked.

“No thanks, still workin’ on this one.” Joe held up his glass.

“James?” Valerie asked Moe. He nodded appreciatively and accepted the drink even though his original glass held more than Joes.

“You sure Joe?” Valerie asked in a sing song voice. It grated on Joe’s nerves.

“I’m good, thank you though Valerie.” His dark eyes met hers. The piercing darkness of them sent a shiver down her spine and she abruptly looked away, blushing.

Joe was walking back from the latrine later that night when he heard some voices out in the dark, in the direction of HQ. The tone of the two male voices that carried on the air made Joe stand to alert. The speakers weren’t too loud, but there was a forcefulness to them. Then the voice of an agitated female broke through. A coldness rushed into Joe blood. He rushed towards the noise. He came upon two F company men who were walking on either side of Valerie. They were walking fast, the pace clearly set by Valerie who sped forward. The men kept in step with with her all while trying to box her in between their bodies.

“Hey!” Joe snapped, stopping them in their course, “what the hell is going on here?”

Joe looked at Valerie, a chilling look in her eyes: fear.

The men hardly seemed bothered by Joe’s presence. “We’re just making sure this young lady gets back to her quarters safely,” one said.

“Are you?” Joe asked, “do you even know her?”

“Sure we do,” the other said arrogantly, “mind your business pal.”

“Val, you know these guys?” Joe asked. Even with adrenaline coursing through his body he winced internally at his use of her nickname. He wasn’t familiar with her like that, why did he call her Val in that moment?

“Don’t worry about it Joe, I can take care of myself,” she said firmly, “I’m just right here,” she turned towards the main HQ building where she was posted up with the other few females. The men made to follow her into the darkness. Although it was only yards away, there were too many spots of darkness for Joe to feel comfortable letting those men follow her all the way up to her doorstep. Joe stepped in front of them, giving Valerie the time and space to disappear into the fold of the night.

“What’s your problem man?” one of the men snarled.

“It’s late, you’re just gonna have to accept you struck out tonight,” Joe sneered back.

The other man, who was significantly larger than Joe, took a menacing step forward. “She your girl or something?” he asked with narrow eyes.

“She’s no ones girl,” Joe said, and he turned away to head back to his barracks.

“Hey, you should’ve stayed out of it, guy.” Then Joe felt a hand on his collar spin him around before a fist made contact with his eye.

“Do you know what guys from F company?” Edward Tipper asked as he took in the blue and blackness that was beginning to come out around Joe’s eye socket.

Joe shrugged into his breakfast, “whatever, I’m not worried about it.”

“Those bastards,” Moe said, “we oughta give them what they deserve.”

“I said I’m not worried about it,” Joe said, “will you drop it?” His friends reluctantly sat back.

It was then Joe noticed Valerie standing a few feet away, a breakfast tray clutched in her hands. She was staring mournfully at the injuries he incurred. As soon as his eyes met hers she quickly walked to the table where Johnny sat, taking a place beside him and disappearing behind the figures of the Easy Company men she loved. Not Joe, he was not part of that group.

“Joe,” Valerie came up behind him as he was bussing his tray. He turned around to face her. Bags hung under her eyes but her signature red lipstick was applied flawlessly.

“Yeah?” he asked impassively.

“Um, I..” she hesitated, taking in his appearance. His jacket was unbuttoned, revealing his PT shirt. His dog tags hung heavy around his lean neck. His cheek bones were sharp, the top of the left one was split just slightly below where the blueness had spread to fill his entire eye socket. Valerie winced looking at him.

“I just want to say I appreciate you checking in on me last night,” Valerie began.

“Don’t mention,” Joe flicked his hand dismissively and began to walk away.

“But you didn’t need to, I feel bad, you’re eye, I would’ve been fine-“

Joe looked at her like she was crazy, “Valerie I saw how you looked last night, you knew it wasn’t goin’ in a good direction.”

“I was almost back to my quarters, I would’ve been fine,” she insisted.

Joe let out a sharp laugh, “why were you alone anyway? Walking in the dark?”

“It’s none of your business,” Valerie said.

“Wow, this is a hell of a thank you, Val,” Joe winced. Damn it, why did he keep using that nickname?

Valerie wrinkled her own nose in discomfort, “well thank you, but next time I got myself.”

“Valerie I wasn’t going to just leave you there!”

“You don’t need to worry about me! I can take care of myself,” she doubled down.

“God damn it, would you get over yourself?” Joe snapped. Valerie reeled back in momentary shock.

“Get over myself?”

“Those guys were trouble! We both know it!”

“Get over myself? What do you mean? You don’t trust me-“

“I don’t even know you, I would’ve done the same for any girl-“ 
“So because I’m a girl you don’t trust me to take care of myself?”

“It was two against one.” 
“I’m a soldier same as you and you were prepared to take them on-“

“Don’t be ignorant, it’s diff-“

“Ignorant? Who’s calling who ignorant?”

“See, you just think you’re so much better than every-“

“I have to be better than everyone! I have to work twice as hard as everyone here!”

“In your cozy little intelligence office? Yeah, sure, try doing the stuff we have to do.”

“I have to train too! I’m strong!”
 “But not strong enough to-“

“I am strong enough!”

“Look what those bastards did to me, you don’t think they would’ve done the same to you?”

“Well, maybe not, because like you said I’m just a girl.”

“Yeah well let me tell you that’s exactly why they could’ve done worse.”

“Do you just assume the worst of your compatriots?”
 “Do you not? How dumb are you? I thought you were from the city!”

“You know what, just stay out of it next time Liebgott. I don’t want you getting injured on my behalf.” Valerie stormed away angrily.

“You’re welcome!”Joe shouted after her defiantly. “God damn it,” he cursed under his breath. He kicked a trash bin nearly kicking it over, “fuck this.”

Joe was still heated later that night when he finally retired to the barracks.

“Tough day, Joe?” Bull asked. A cigar hung from his mouth as he unlaced his boots.

“Little bit,” Joe eased down on his bed. His face throbbed where he had been hit. Bull looked up at him thoughtfully, “everything alright now?” he asked cryptically.

“All good, Bull,” Joe lay back on his cot exhaling.

“Not all good,” John Martin was suddenly standing over him, “you were fighting with Valerie?”

“Not really, it’s fine,” Joe draped an arm over his eyes, trying to block out the little light that filled their canvas living quarters.

“It better be, I heard you two shouting at each other earlier. What’d you do to deserve that?”

Joe sat up, “I didn’t do anything!”

John crossed his arms and eyed Joe suspiciously, “well, if she’s after you you probably deserve it.” He stalked off and Joe fell back onto his bed.

“She’s a tough one that Valerie,” Bull said.

“So I’ve heard,” Joe muttered.

“No shit from nobody,” Bull continued.

“You gotta point, Bull?” Joe snapped glaring at the guy in the bunk next to him.

Bull chewed on his cigar, carefully considering what he was going to say next, “it was good of you to look out for her. You did the right thing, Joe.”

Joe hadn’t expected that. He nodded at Bull then rolled over in his bunk. He didn’t know how much Bull knew, or what exactly he had heard through the grapevine, but Bull’s words meant more than he thought the would. Finally a little acknowledgment for preventing the crime he had seen coming. No matter how tough she was, there’s no stopping that when two men decide they’re going to do it.

Joe slid his arm under his pillow, trying to get comfortable. That’s when his hand grazed something hard and rectangular. From underneath his pillow he pulled out a chocolate bar. Wrapped around it, fastened with twine, was a note. In neat cursive were the words: You were right. Thank you for your help.

Joe couldn’t help but smile a little bit. Who the fuck was this woman.

She was a goddamn rule following narc when she wanted to be, that’s who she was. Joe and Moe may or may not have snuck out of the base one Tuesday night and gotten pissed at a nearby bar. They were too drunk to be cautious when they stumbled back onto base, their arms around each other, singing.

Valerie was walking along the well lit path to the women’s latrine when she ran into them.

“What are you guys doing?” she hissed confronting them.

“Hello sweetheart,” Moe slurred with a grin.

“Valerie!” Joe said enthusiastically, “wow thank you for the Hershey bar.”

Valerie flushed bright red, “you guys are being so loud! You’re going to get in trouble.” She looked them up and down, “how drunk are you?”
 “Not drunk at all,” Moe shook his head.

Valerie wrinkled her nose, “sure smells like you are.”

“That’s rude Valerie,” Joe said jokingly.

“Yeah well you guys are going to get all of Easy in trouble tomorrow if you show up hungover.”

“We’ll be fine!” Moe waved his hand, “don’t worry about us, doll.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Valerie said sharply, “its the rest of the company you’re screwin’ over. Goodnight!” she walked off shaking her head.

“What a bitch,” Moe said off-handedly.

“She’s not a bitch,” Joe immediately snapped.

Moe swayed in place, grinning stupidly at his friend. “Whoa there, you’re not in love with her now too are you?”

Joe rolled his eyes and the men stumbled back to their barracks, now a little quieter.

He would never admit it after the way Valerie had confronted them, but waking up the next day was rough. Joe was determined to keep it together just to spite Valerie. He had muscled through the morning and was hoping for a moment of respite at lunch. But to his great misfortune, tuna casserole was being served. Joe’s stomach churned as he looked down into his plate. He was hungry but he was sure that the final remains of alcohol digesting inside of him would not be happy to share his stomach with this meal.

As he contemplated whether to eat or not, Joe felt eyes on him. He looked up to see Valerie’s sympathetic face from across the mess hall. She smiled at him tenderly at him and he immediately felt pathetic in her eyes. A irrational sense of anger flared up in him and he stabbed at the casserole with his fork. He brought a first big bite into his mouth all while maintaining eye contact with Valerie. The sympathetic smile dropped from her face as she watched his performance. She narrowed her eyes, her lip curling in disgust at his juvenile defiance.

After the meal ended she came up to him, her tray as empty as his was.

“Feeling alright, Joe?” she asked as sweet as syrup.

Perspiration was beginning to form on his forehead. He was not feeling alright, in fact he felt rather clammy. Moe had done the wise thing and only eaten his buttered bread. Joe was seriously regretting not doing the same.

“Feelin’ great, how’re you feeling, Valerie?” he asked obstinately.

“I’m feeling great too,” she said smugly, because she was, and he clearly was not even if he wasn’t admitting it. “Enjoy the rest of the day!” She sashayed off.

Luckily, the mess hall was mostly empty because as soon as she was out of sight, Joe dived for a nearby trashcan and regurgitated the lunch he had just consumed.

“Better out than in,” Moe said as means of comfort, looking equally washed up.

By the end of the week Joe was ready to go out again. Just as it happens to all young men, the short term memory of how he felt after a night of binge drinking had left him by that Saturday night. Having secured and successfully retained their weekend passes, Joe and his friends bought tickets to the dance that Saturday evening.

The majority of Easy Company had the same idea and they, along with the other companies of the 101st airborne, filled the local dance hall. Joe was having a pretty good time. Beer was flowing, the band was hopping, and there was an endless supply of beautiful women to dance with. Joe was taking a break from the dance floor when he spotted Valerie spinning across the room in the arms of a dark haired gentleman from another company.

“Look at her,” Edward said appreciatively from next to Joe.

“Who?” Joe asked, pretending not to know who his friend was referring to.

“I know you don’t like her much, but Valerie, she is a looker,” Edward whistled.

Joe scowled but allowed himself a moment to check Valerie out. She wore a slightly-outdated red belted dress. Little white flowers peppered the fabric from the hem to the shoulders where the cinched neckline generously revealed her delicate collarbones.

Joe cleared his throat, “yeah, but there’s lots of good lookin’ broads around tonight.”

Edward just shrugged and downed the rest of his beer before setting out for the dance floor again. Joe did his best to avoid Valerie. He distracted himself with drinks, jokes, and other beautiful women. Despite his best efforts Joe still found himself looking across the low lit dance floor directly into Valerie’s eyes when a version of Mood Indigo came on.

It wasn’t Valerie in his arms, it was another woman. A woman he hadn’t known long enough to truly enjoy the moody slow dance with. Valerie was in the arms of the same guy she’d been with all night and she did look like she was enjoying the dance. Joe realized she was enjoying it a lot more than he wanted her to be.

The glance they had shared had been brief, she had broken it off quickly to nestle her cheek against her fellas shoulder. But that short moment had stirred something in Joe. In the dark golden light of the numerous high-hanging light bulbs Valerie’s eyes had looked like melted amber. The shadows that flickered across the hall softened her face, giving it an ethereal look. She was breathtaking and Joe wanted to be the one with his arm around her waist. He wanted to be the one she leaned her cheek against. He felt an overwhelming unreasonable hatred for this random man he didn’t know simply because he was the one who held Valerie so close.

Once the song ended, Joe politely bid goodbye to his partner and made a beeline for Valerie. She stood talking to her partner and a few other guys Joe didn’t recognize. He approached their group stiffly, his hands in his pockets. Everyone looked surprised at his arrival, especially Valerie, who was obligated to introduce him considering she was the only one who really knew him.

After a quick nod to the group Joe said, “Valerie can I talk to you?” Valerie’s brow furrowed in confusion but she politely excused herself. Joe lead her to an unoccupied side of the room near the door.

“Is something wrong?” Valerie asked, a fresh glass of champagne clutched in her perfectly manicured hands. Joe had no clue as to what he had wanted to say to her or what exactly he wanted from her. His goal had simply been to remove her from that man’s presence. In all honesty, he had no plan because he was confused on how exactly he considered her; was she a friend? An enemy? Or just another beautiful woman?

“Well, I just wanted to give you the option to dance with me,” he hesitated, watching her face for a reaction, “or one of the other Easy guys,” he added.

“Um, I’m alright, thank you, I’ve been happy dancing with-“ she gestured back at her partner.

“That guy? Psh,” Joe said dismissively, “guys a cement mixer, don’t you wanna dance with someone good?”

Red rose up in Valerie’s cheeks, “who? Like you?” she asked.

Joe shrugged, “anyone’s better than that fool.”

“You don’t even know him, Joe.”

Fair point, Joe thought, but he didn’t like the guy. “I can tell he’s a dip, just look at him!” Joe laughed.

“This is a really terrible way of asking me to dance with you!”

“Hey, I’m doin’ you a favor.”

“Me a favor? Could you be more full of yourself?”

“Me full of myself? What about you little miss perfect. I’m not the one walking around acting like you know everything.”

“I know more than you!” “See there you go, why do you gotta go around putting people down?”

“No one seems to have a problem with me except you!” Valerie shot back.

“Take it outside lovebirds,” an intoxicated private said as he passed them.

His interruption killed the argument between them. Instead they just stood glaring at each other, dark brown eyes meeting golden ones. 



Finally, Joe said, “come on, let’s dance.”

“You wish!” Valerie stomped on his foot.

Joe swallowed his curse, “fuck,” he said in a strangled a voice. Valerie turned to stalk away but Joe grabbed her elbow.

“Get off of me,” she hissed, trying her best not to make more of a scene than they already had.

“Come on.” Joe pulled her out the nearest door, throwing them both into the cool Georgian night. Now engulfed by darkness they were really free to fight it out.

“What the fuck was that for?” he demanded.

“Who do you think you are?” she shot back. “Interrupting my evening for what? Just to invite me on a pity dance? I don’t need your pity, I was enjoying myself quite a bit tonight until you started all this!” She threw her hands up in frustration. Some of the champagne from the glass still in her hand spilled over the side, onto her hand. “Ugh,” she exclaimed. She wiped her hand angrily on her dress.

Jealousy stabbed through Joe’s chest at her words. She had been enjoying herself with that guy. “What’s so special about that guy anyways? Didn’t you just meet him tonight?” he sneered.

Valerie opened her mouth to speak, then stopped. She closed it, examining him. A devilish smirk crossed her face, “oh is this what it’s about Joe? You jealous?”



Yes. “No!” he said, “I just don’t know why you’re all moony over this guy. This is a social, not something you bring a date to.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Don’t believe me about what? This isn’t a place for dates? Not usually-”

“That you’re not jealous! What’s your problem Joe? If you’re interested in me just be a man and tell me.”

“Typical, you thinking that everyone has got to be in love with you.”

“Then tell me why you’re being so rude tonight! Either you’re jealous or you hate me.” Was there a third option? Because Joe felt like he was somewhere in between. He definitely didn’t like Valerie. She got under his skin like no one else. At the same time, there was a magnetism about her that kept drawing him in. Those eyes, those lips, even that temper. He wanted to grab her and kiss her just to shut her up.

“And if you hated me you wouldn’t be bothering with all this!” 
Joe was barely even listening to her at this point.

He could feel his blood pumping; the adrenaline and anger mixing together to create a roar in ears that made it impossible to comprehend everything she was saying. He knew he was going to do it even as he counseled himself against it. He surprised himself with his sudden movement; he snatched her waist and pulled her into a hard kiss.

Immediately, she pushed him away. “What the hell!” she threw the remainder of her champagne in his face. Cooly, Joe wiped the liquid off his face with the sleeve.

“You told me to tell you!”

“Not like that!”

He stood glaring at her. She glared back, her now empty glass hanging pointlessly from her hand. There was nothing but silence between them, and the chirp of insects in the night sky. The faint sounds from the festivities inside filtered out but Joe and Valerie were completely in their own world, in a standoff.

Then suddenly, mutually, something shifted between them. Flaring rage turned to lust. Simultaneously they lunged for each other. Joe wrapped one arm around her waist, the other hungrily snaking up her thigh. Valerie’s fingers twisted in his hair, tugging at the thick, dark tendrils. He bit down on her lip as she pulled on his hair. Their kisses were messy and hungry; all the pent up anger and tension that had built up between them expressed in an intimate power struggle as they moved to devour each other.

“You drive me crazy,” Joe pulled away for breath.

Her lipstick was completely gone, its last traces staining her swollen mouth red. “I can’t stand you,” she retorted. He kissed her again, tangling her hand in her hair. Their pace slowed from the previous feverish speed to something more sensual without losing its fervor. Joe had her pressed against the building wall. His hands cupped her her jaw and slid down her throat. His mind was muddled with his detestation for this woman and the aching physical desire that was taking over him. She must have felt similarly as one hand pushed against his pelvis, as if warding him off, while the other dug fingernails into the nape of neck, forcing him in closer.

Once again they surfaced for air, this time taking time to really look at each other. The sound of their panting filled the space around them as her eyes searched his for some explanation.

“What’re we doing, Joe?” her voice was oddly vulnerable. Joe traced her jaw with a calloused thumb.

“I don’t know.” He pushed away from her and ran a hand through his tousled hair. Cold air entered the space where their bodies were previously connected. It sent a shiver through Valerie. “I don’t know,” Joe repeated.

He stepped back even further into the dark, his hand on his hips. He kicked a rock on the ground.

“You don’t like me,” Valerie said with the slight intonation of a question. Joe sucked his teeth. “And,” she continued slowly, “I don’t know if I like you.”

“I don’t know how I feel about you,” Joe said.

Valerie crossed her arms, her eyes bore into him. She was waiting for him to say something else, to offer a but. But it never came.

After a few unbearable minutes of silence she finally said, “I’m going back inside, Joe.” The patch of darkness he stood in was filled with a momentary field of light as she opened the door. Then, she was gone and Joe was alone in the darkness.

Joe did his best to avoid Valerie after that, but he felt her golden eyes on him in the mess hall. He wanted to provide her with answers, to tell her how he was feeling, but he didn’t know. He told himself there was a nothing to like about her - she was a pretentious kiss ass who seemed to have every guy wrapped around her finger. But he saw through her - he wasn’t going to fall for her like everyone else had.

Yet, she consumed his thoughts. All the pieces of love and hate swirled in his mind as he desperately tried to conceive a clear way to explain how he was feeling. He didn’t like her, but he might be falling in love with her. But even if he had realized this sooner, it still came too late.

In a matter of weeks she was stepping out with the dark haired guy she had hit it off with that night. He was a boring, strait laced guy, or at least that’s what Joe had gathered from Bill. The guys dullness was obvious. From what Joe witnessed, there was no fire between them. Not that it was his place to care, he reminded himself. Every time Joe saw them together he avoided her gaze. He knew he would see that look that was begging him to step in, to step up and interrupt this course she was on. But, as long as she was with this guy Joe had an excuse not to love her.