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blurredcolour · 11 months ago

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In The Bleak Mid-Winter

[One-shot]

Ronald Speirs x Nurse!Female Reader

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

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

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

Word Count: 6171

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December 29, 1944 - Bastogne

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s nothing, ma’am, I’m fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nuts, indeed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

————————————-

Band of Brothers Masterlist

Tag list: @bcon24 , @ronsparky

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

#ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs fanfic #ronald speirs imagines #ronald speirs imagine #ronald speirs #ron speirs #band of brothers smut #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers

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joenotexotic99 · 1 year ago

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Hello Doll! New fan here! You're so precious! 🥰 we NEED pt 2 of BoB "Sleeping with them for the first time", my request: Speirs, Toye, Eugene, Webster, Buck. AND pls wrote more Lovetropes! I've read it so many times, that I can quote from memory! xoxo

A/n this might be dirtier than pt1. Will do a pt 2 of love tropes ofc. Lmk if you have some people in mind for that

-this is a work of fiction based on the actors portrayal only. Every ounce of respect to the real heros-

Warning: NSFW, plain sinful smut. Lots of language. Minors dni

Masterlist

Ronald Speirs

- this man will change your whole perspective of sex afterwards. You've both been pinning each other for a while and decide to go on a date. Yet the whole time you both have been practically removing each other's clothes with your eyes. Lingering touches, flirty behavior. Lets just say that you didn't quite make it through all the courses before Speirs asked for the check. You make it back to his place before he immediately kisses you. You start removing clothes while grabbing and feeling any skin you can both get your hands on. He turns you around to unzip your dress, taking it off your figure. He spun you back around to pick you up and set you down on the kitchen counter. You remove his belt and tug at his pants and boxers until the both of you are head to toe naked. He gives you a looks off 'are you sure' you nod yes before he lifts you legs up and fucks you. Praise after praise, surface after surface. It's a wild ride.

"Fuck you feel so good you know that princess?"

Joe toye

-he's sweet and spontaneous. It's a similar experience to George luz where it happens after a few dates. It starts slow, careful almost. But eventually you melt under him. He kisses you harder, Backs you to a wall. You remove each other's shirts. His hands unclips your bra. He makes hickies after hickies up and down your neck. He picks you up and brings you to the bedroom. Kisses down to your skirt to take that off as well. This man would love to praise you. And his voice!? He will mutter the most downright bad into your ears. He could make you come from just that alone. I feel like he's big on moaning you know. Your make him feel so good he's going to let you know that. Will do anything you ask him to do. You want him to touch you. He's instantly rubbing your clit, you want him to suck you Titts, he'll do that too. Fuck you harder and faster. He'll break the mattress. Will make you finish at least twice. Once on his cock. Then he'll clean you up with his tongue. But he is sooo sweet with the after care.

"God I wish you could see yourself right now doll. Getting fucked properly"

Eugene roe

-he's honestly a little nervous. He doesn't want to hurt you. It starts back at your place. Some wine after a good home cooked dinner. The alcohol helps with confidence. It's slow and passionate. He would be completely fine with kissing you for hours on end. But you've had one too many dirty dreams about this man so it's now or never. Eugene will be so great with foreplay. Makes you feel worshiped like no man has ever made you feel before. Always checking to make sure you're ok. When it gets time to really dance if you know what I mean he's super scared that something is going to go wrong. This poor man. You are so worked up from his touch that you have to tell him to just shut up and fuck you. It's like a switch goes off in his head. And the only thing he can suddenly think of is you. He fucks you until the only thing you can think of, only thing you can scream is his name. He robs you of every last breath in your lungs. It's dirty, passionate, sweaty and oh so good. Best God damn orgasm of your life. When you both finish and clean up. He definitely raps you up in his arms.

"Thank you"

"For what?"

"Giving me the best dick of my life"

David Webster

-HERE ME OUT! One bed trope. But it's not at a hotel or anything. You head to his place, have dinner, watch a movie, whatever. Oh no it's dark and raining. How about you stay the night? Oh crap this is a one bed apartment. You get the point. He offers you the bed and he'll sleep on the couch but you say that's silly and to just share the bed. Webster already had a huge crush on you so his ears turn a bright red, but how can he turn down the offer to share a bed with you? You get ready and both go to bed. It's awkward at first until he breaks the silence with one of those deep questions and you start talking for hours. One thing leads to another and he's on top of you. He kisses you until you lose your mind. You run your hands up his bare chest until you reach the stubble on his face. You slowly remove each article of clothing on the both of you. The air is thick and warm. Can you imagine how feral this man will go if you praise him. This man just wants some love ok? He asks you how sure you are about this, not wanting to cross any boundaries. You agree enthusiastically. You tug at his hair. Run your hands down his back. He kisses your neck, holds your waist. He's so gentle with aftercare too. From here on out you stay the night more often.

"Just like that web don't stop, so good, you're so good"

"Fuck sweetheart you're gunna make me come"

Buck Compton

-I know this is sorta cliché but fire sex. It's around the holidays. It's cold, snowing and dark outside. Inside it's warm, cozy and comfortable. You are still in puppy love faze. It's sweet. You are both on the couch blanket on top. Fire crackling. Buck reading you a book. You have thought about it a lot, sex. Yet you've never really got there. Steamy makeout sessions. Been there and done that. But it hasn't made it farther than that. But gooood you want it to. Your hands wander over him. Getting more and more close south each time. You rub his thigh, testing the waters. You can tell he notices by how his adams apple moves. You slowly undo his belt as he continues to read the book. He lets you pull his jeans down and slowly remove him from his boxers. You move your hand tauntingly slow. Not moving any faster in hopes of riling him up. He puts the book down and pulls you up to his lips. He removes your shirt and bra. Flips you over to remove your pants and underwear. He's sweet and confident in each move he makes. He kisses up and down your inner thigh until he finally makes it to the center. He gives you a taste of your own medicine. Slowly keeping you on edge with his tongue until you beg him to fuck you. And he does just that. It's better than you could have ever imagined.

"For fucks sake buck if you don't get up here and dick me down"

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers headcanon #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers smut #ron speirs x reader #joe toye x reader #eugene roe x reader #david webster x reader #buck compton x reader

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danopdf · 8 months ago

Text

Ronald Speirs x Medic!Reader Headcanons

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

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

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

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

TOCCOA / NORMANDY

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

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

He leaves anonymous gifts for you on your cot

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

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

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

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

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

everybody notices to the point of constantly teasing you about it

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

“MUCK-!”

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

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

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

“Toye I swear to god!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you go dancing with me?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi-” “You look-”

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

This boy can DANCE

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

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

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

You both drink quite a bit and get rather giggly

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BASTOGNE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go.”

“‘Scuse me Sir?”

“Go spend Christmas with Sparky.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He kneels down next to you and Joe nudges you awake

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

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

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

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

“What’s up Ronnie?”

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

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

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

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

“Happy new year sweetheart.”

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

“Happy new year honey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he just holds you and you hold him

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HAGENEAU

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

GERMANY

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

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

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

You hold up your hand and see it flash again

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

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

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

“The sun!”

He looks up at you like you’re crazy

“The sun is out! And it’s warm!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But then you find the camp

And everything seems just hopeless

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

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

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

Looking for some sort of comfort and thanking you

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(which at this point is basically was)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

POST WAR

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

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

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

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

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

“Will you marry me?”

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

“Yes. I think I will.”

You guys are married within a year of him asking

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He love to garden after the war

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

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

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

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

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

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

how he sleeps head cannons:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you wake up because he starts to throw his arms around

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

Then his arms start to flail

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ron no-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

EXTRAS

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

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

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

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

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

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

has a really deep morning voice

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

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

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

it starts off simple with items like candies and treats

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i think his love languages are;

giving: gift giving and acts of service, quality time

receiving: quality time, words of affirmation and physical touch

speaking of physical touch:

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

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

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

when y’all are in PRIVATE he LOVES making out

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

nsfw:

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

photos of you both mid sex

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

pull his hair please

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

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

fucked👏🏻you👏🏻on👏🏻his👏🏻desk👏🏻

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

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

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

“i’ll come back later sir…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

you’re the only person who can top him

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

okay that’s my short list of places lmaooo

idc what parts you have Ron has a breeding kink

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

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

has a slight choking kink

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

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

has a choking kink (on either of you)

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

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

will call you his personal medic/nurse/doctor

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

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

overstimulate each other

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

y’all have aftercare DOWN

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

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

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

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

aggressive angry sex (you’re never scared the other is going to hurt each other because you know that you’re never angry at each other (just something/someone else) and that you just need to get all of the aggression and energy out and maybe feel more in control of the world for a bit

talks you through it

“that feel good sweetheart? tell me how good it feels.”

“what’s wrong baby, you gonna cum for me again?”

“oh you just feel so good you can’t even think anymore! so drunk on my cock aren’t you sweetheart!”

yell tease each other like it’s your job

that could mean verbally teasing each other or edging each other, or giving the other the gentlest touches and brushes, just barely touching the other for them to get anything other than a shiver of pleasure

slow dancing that just turned to grinding

This man makes me have thoughts I should not have, so I will stop here <3

#ronald speirs x reader #band of brothers #ron speirs x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #ron speirs #ronald speirs #dano speaks #headcannons

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my-favourite-s-m-u-t · 1 year ago

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feral i tell you. i am feral.

I Wish I Could Leave This Alone (I Know How Much You Want Me To)

Babe Heffron x Reader (plus guest) One Shot

Summary: Babe’s birthday gift to you has an unexpected party crasher

Warnings: smut, angst, infidelity (?), reader overthinking while getting dicked down, I wrote this and immediately posted it so it will be edited at some point

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Babe’s kiss was soft, but his touch was not.

You couldn’t help the groan that escaped from the back of your throat as one of his hands gripped tightly at your hip, and when he smiled against your lips you couldn’t help but feel like you’d had done something to amuse him.

“What?” you pant, leaning back at the waist to break the kiss and frowning at his smirk.

He chuckled warmly as he walked you backward towards your bed, the hand at your hip finding its way under your shirt and up against your sternum.

“Where’d you go, Gorgeous?” he asked playfully, and you immediately felt guilty.

Keep reading

#smut faves #fave fics #ron speirs x reader #babe heffron x reader #band of brothers x reader

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bloodstainedsaint · 11 months ago

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sticky fingers (ronald speirs x reader smut)

summary: you've noticed that you've been missing panties ever since your first time with your lover, ronald speirs. fortunately for you, he's been replacing them.

word count: 1220+

warnings: 🔞, reader has female genitalia, looting, fingering, praise, ron's a little freak (but we knew that), implied that ron jacks off with your panties, reader's a little bit of a brat (that gets straightened out by soft dom ron)

notes: inspired by this ask (brilliant idea btw) and a little bit by ron's handwriting

It had become commonplace ever since Easy Company moved into Germany for you to come back to your billet and find loot laying on your bed, accompanied by a note signed in beautiful cursive that read Courtesy of Capt. Speirs (as if you didn't know who was leaving you these gifts). You already knew that Ron was sending ornate silver cutlery and decor back home to your house in America so you wouldn't have to lug it around with the rest of your belongings; the loot that made it to your bed were things that he wanted you to wear for him that very night: heels, jewelry/accessories, dresses, and his favorite: lingerie.

Now in Austria nearing the end of the war (in Europe, at least), that was what you found placed on your bed, next to the usual note. And, as you usually did, you smiled to yourself at the gifts, freshened yourself up, and first tried on the lacy lingerie that he'd selected for you, followed by the elegant off the shoulder evening gown, the heels, and the diamond necklace.

What often followed was him coming back to find you all dressed up before dancing with you — with you leading, of course. With the radio in the room playing slow love songs, he would start planning a future with you as he twirled you around, saying all the things the two of you would do once back in the States: buy a house, raise a family, adopt a dog. It had surprised you the first time; you had never expected Ron to think of the future (one including you, no less) and realize that he just might be going home after all.

As you started clasping on the necklace with your back facing the door, someone barged in like they owned the place. You turned around and were not surprised to see Ron there, seemingly not fully acknowledging your presence as he shed his hat and the top layer of his uniform. Placing them on a chair, he ran a hand through his hair with a sigh.

“Has anyone ever taught you to knock, Ron?” you huffed lightheartedly as you finished fastening the necklace. He finally turned his attention to you, and you could see the tension (you assumed from everything that had happened recently with Staff Sergeant Grant) disappear from his face, replaced by something darker as he drank in how the dress hugged your curves so well.

“Well,” you said while smoothing out the dress and preparing to spin for him, “how do I lo—”

Predatory eyes raked over your body. “On the bed.”

“Ron?”

“Get on the bed, now.” Something akin to desperation was masked by the harshness of his tone.

Doing as he said, you sat on the edge of the bed. He strode over and stood over you, and your breath hitched when he lifted your chin upward with two fingers. “Good girl.”

He withdrew his hand and let it run over your bare shoulders before tugging on one of the sleeves, uttering, “I want this off.”

“I just put it on!” you protested.

There was a subtle crazed look to his stare, a hardly restrained wildness lying beneath. “And you'll take it off.”

You first took off your heels, and, maintaining eye contact, you slipped off the sleeves of your dress and pulled the rest down, slowly revealing your lace-covered chest and the inches of skin that lay below. Smirking, you let the dress sit around your hips as you first removed the necklace and set it aside.

“It's a shame to let a dress this nice pool on the floor,” you said, enjoying the way his jaw tensed, “so I'll stop here.”

His glare hardened, and he bent down slightly and pulled the dress down the rest of the way, with you wiggling your hips to assist him. He placed the dress on the same chair as his officer jacket and hat. “Happy?”

You innocently beamed up at him, relishing in knowing how much of a grip his love for you had on him. “Very.”

He returned and leaned over you, with one hand on the bed beside you and the other traveling to your panties.

Before he could get any closer to what he desired, you placed your hand around his wrist. He immediately stopped his arm and studied your face.

Meeting his gaze, you breathily said, “I've been missing panties, Sparky.”

“That's a shame.” His apathetic voice and expression indicated that it was anything but.

“I know you've been stealing them since our first time together.”

Shrugging, he pouted for a second like he usually did when he was thinking. You unknowingly loosened your grip, and he pushed your wet panties to the side and began rubbing circles on your clit. “And I've been replacing them with new ones, haven't I?”

Your thoughts became jumbled at the slow circles, and your hand fell away completely. “Yes, sir…”

He smiled, watching you lose your focus and confidence at the movements. “You wanna know what I do with them?” Gulping, you unsteadily bobbed your head. “Whenever we’re separated, I use them to remind me of you.”

“Use… them?” Your face flushed at the thought.

He only chuckled in response. His fingers moved down from your clit to circle your opening.

“Maybe I'll take these with me to the Pacific,” he pondered aloud, pulling the strap of your panties back and then snapping them against you. “You don't mind, do you?”

“Ron, I like thes—” you cut yourself off with a moan as his fingers plunged into you.

“I didn't think so, pretty girl.” He gently guided your body down onto the bed so his fingers could reach deeper within. Your back arched as he went at a brutal pace, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss.

Ron leaned over you with one arm supporting him. Somehow speeding up his movements against that sensitive spot inside of you, the palm of his hand rubbing deliciously against your clit, he lowered himself to mouth along the valley between your breasts. In his wake, he left conspicuous marks on your neck before trailing his lips up and capturing yours in a kiss full of shameless want.

He could tell you were getting close when your walls started squeezing around him and you became a whiny, breathy mess before him, bucking your hips to meet his fingers. “You're doing so good for me, just let go. That's it, beautiful…”

Lights sparked behind your eyelids, and your moans of his name took on a higher pitch, neighbors be damned. Ron slowed down his thrusts and let you ride out your climax. Before you could notice the absence of his fingers or that he wasn't kissing you anymore, your panties were already pulled down and off of your legs and stuffed into his pants pocket.

Ron licked the stickiness off of his fingers and climbed onto the bed, situating himself above you. “As much as I liked that dress on you, I like you better with it off.”

You laughed, still out of breath with a hazy mind. “Why don't you show me just how much, Captain?”

His lips pulled up into that unnerving smile that only you found charming. He breathed, “My pleasure,” and fit his lips against yours before you could catch a glimpse of the lingerie sticking out of his pocket.

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101, @samwinchesterslostshoe, @maya0, @linhkhanhcps, @cinnamonmalarkey, @imafckingbitch

#band of brothers #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs #band of brothers x reader #hbo war #easy company #101st airborne #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #hbo war fanfic #band of brothers imagines #ronald speirs #matthew settle

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multifandomlover01 · 3 years ago

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MASTERLIST

Contains my writings for:

Band of Brothers

The Pacific

Criminal Minds

Band of Brothers

Joe Liebgott

I Have Always Loved You (Female Reader)

Coming Soon: Modern AU feat. PTSD & an ESA

Short, Assorted Lieb Stuff

Albert Blithe

Taking Care of Blithe (Platonic Female!Medic!Reader)

Foxhole Checks (Platonic Female!Medic!Reader)

Ron Speirs

Ok. It was me. So? (Female!Reader) (Requested)

Touch (Female!Nurse!Reader)

Johnny Martin

The Patrol (Female!Medic!Reader)

George Luz

The Darts Game (Female!Medic!Reader)

Early Mornings (Female!Reader) (not exactly requested, but inspired by)

Eugene Roe

The Scissors (Female!Reader)

The Nightmare (Female!Medic!Reader)

Ten Minutes (Female!Medic!Reader)

The Breakup (Female!Reader implied)

David Webster

Harvard’s Back (Female!Medic!Reader)

Chuck Grant

Taller S/O Headcanon (Female!Reader) (Requested) (Lime/M)

The Nurse and the Soldier (Female!German!Nurse!Reader) (Requested)

Donald Malarkey

Quality Time Headcanons (Female!Reader, I guess) (Requested)

Various/Multiple

Fun Times with the Mortar Boys and the Radioman (Malarkey, Skip, Penkala, and Luz x Reader (Platonic))

D-Day (Day of Days) (Platonic Various x Female!Medic!Reader)

Protective (Platonic Various (Liebs, Bill, Bull and Dick) x Female!Medic!Reader)

The Great Transfer Debacle (Platonic Various (Speirs, Luz, Liebs, Roe, and Nix) x Female!Medic!Reader)

They’re My Sanitary Pads, Sir (Platonic Various (Guarnere, Toye, Liebgott, Malarkey, and Winters) x Female!Medic!Reader)

The Aid Station (Platonic Renée Lemaire x Reader, Eugene Roe x Reader)

Out From Rachamps (Various x Female!Medic!Reader)

The Female Medic (Various (mostly Winters) x Female!Medic!Reader)

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The Pacific

Snafu Shelton

Are My Eyes Yellow? (Female!Corpsman!Reader)

I’ll Wait For You (Female!Nurse!Reader)

Chuckler Juergens

Marine or Woman…or Both? (Female!Corpsman!Reader)

Robert Leckie

The Writers (Female!Reader)

John Basilone

Untitled (Female!Corpsman!Reader)

Eugene Sledge

Coming Soon: Mobile (Female!Corpsman!Reader)

Various/Multiple

Coming Soon: Sledge/Reader/Burgin Platonic

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Headcanons

How the different boys from BoB and TP would react to you being insecure

Part 1 (Dick Winters, Lewis Nixon, and Eugene Roe)

Part 2 (George Luz, Joseph Liebgott, and Ron Speirs)

Part 3 (Robert Leckie, John Basilone, and Eugene Sledge)

Coming Soon: Part 4 (Carwood Lipton, Bull Randleman and Floyd Talbert)

Special Edition: Freckles and Dimples (Requested)

Freckles and Dimples pt. 2

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

Preferences

BoB boys interrupting you in the shower

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October 2022 Writing Prompts (based off of the prompt list below that I found in Tumblr)

MASTERLIST

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A Barely Coherent Christmas

MASTERLIST

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MARVEL

Loki

The Unkillable God (WIP)

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Criminal Minds

Spencer Reid

It Was Always You

Nightmares and Coffee

Lovesick Idiots

You Are My Sunshine

The Ditch

Baby Fever

Pretty Boy/Girl

Trick-or-Treat (18+) (MDNI)

Silence Speaks Volumes

More (18+) (MDNI)

Home (18+) (MDNI)

I Hesitate to put “Wife Guy” Here (18+) (MDNI)

The Librarian (basically PG-13) Part 2

Who Needs Statistics When I’ve Been Promised Kisses?

NSFW Thoughts

Plans (16+ I guess)

Anxiety Comfort

How Far Have I Fallen? How High Shall I Soar? (Violence Warning)

Surprise (18+) (MDNI)

Just The Tip (18+) (MDNI)

Making Do (18+) (MDNI)

Be Careful What You Wish For (18+) (MDNI)

To Drown in Your Love (18+) (MDNI)

Stress Relief (18+) (MDNI)

The BAU’s Whore (18+) (MDNI)

Dislike (no explicit smut but still community label is on because it has sexual themes) (MDNI)

Not Some Innocent Kid (18+ MDNI)

Not Technically Mine…But Still Unequivocally Mine (some canon like uncomfy suspect behavior)

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Crack blurb (MDNI 18+)

Criminal Minds - Spencer Reid Screencaps

cmkinkbingo2024

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we-always-hit-our-ass · 5 years ago

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Cold Mornings, Warm Nights (Ronald Speirs x Reader)

a/n- alriiggght second fic and this is one is just an idea that i’ve had. i really like the concept and stuff and im just so happy to write it

ay yo @radiantcade, this one’s for you 💕❤❤

Description- Who expected that the intimidating and ruthless Ronald Speirs would indulge you in tender embraces during cold nights in Bastogne. You could die happily in his arms, and you wouldn’t care. But the attitude he gives you in the morning has agitated you for a while now. You decide to confront him during one of your late-night rendevous.

Words- about 4.5k words (oh wow)

Warnings- Vulgar language (it's speirs and it’s me who’s writing it…), fluff, and implied smut

ig just a teensy bit of angst (if you squint real hard)

and also a bit steamy but nothing too graphic, no worries

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

pic’s not mine btw

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

No amount of training could have prepared you or many others for what happened at Bastogne. You’ve earned your right to say that you have been through hell and back, but Bastogne…

Bastogne was…

Worse. It was way worse.

The ringing in your ears never ever really left after the German have decided to shell you guys for who knows how long. Day and night, and when you finally thought they would just leave you the fuck alone.

There it was again.

Brief moments of the bombs hitting the snow and even some of your fellow paratroopers flashed between your mind, and you physically recoiled when those moments would happen. But that moment when you saw Guarnere and Toye on the ground, unmoving and having lost a leg.

You broke. What you really weren’t expecting was that Ronald Speirs was the one that mostly restored you to your past self. For a guy who was rumoured to be cold-hearted and emotionless, he just seemed so goddamn sweet to you.

You could never thank him enough for him letting you stay in his foxhole or him visiting you in yours on those cold, snowy nights. The nights where the thoughts of your friends dying from the German artillery pestered you the most.

It’s surprising how the man would actually seem to comfort you whenever you were going through nights like this. Strong arms wrapping around your body as you cried and whimpered into his neck.

Ron would run his calloused hands through your hair, undoing the ponytail you always put your (H/C) locks into.You, in return, would lovingly caress his face and arms. Sometimes gripping them to let you know that he was actually there.

Soft kisses were always planted on you, and a hum of content would leave his lips whenever he did so.

The first thing that Ron would always do, was to pull down your collar and scarf to expose your neck. You whined from the cold but immediately stopped once he’d start to nuzzle his nose on it. His strong arms would cage your body against his, his hold on you tightening every once and awhile.

You reminisce on the times you would boop his nose, and he would respond with a soft, deep chuckle before he would once again attack your face with brief and light kisses.

One of your favorite memories were the times you would tease him, your clear giggles causing him to have butterflies in his stomach. Then he would sweep you up, bridal carrying all the way to your foxhole.

You were still positioned in his lap, warmth erupting in your cheeks and you’d skim your fingers to feel the stubble he grew in your time in Bastogne. Soft ‘I love yous’ were said until you fell asleep, a small reminder on how much you were devoted to one another.

You never failed to pass out peacefully in his arms without an adoring grin on your face.

As you fell asleep, he would just unknowingly wrap his arms around you tighter, and he would always stay a few minutes awake just to make sure that you had truly fallen asleep.

Ron would slowly brush away the stray snowflakes that have fallen on your peaceful face and soft (H/C) hair. He’d let his hand linger for a second too long and he would slowly observe the slight pink tinge of pink on your cheeks, his lips curling up slightly. His gaze on your peaceful gaze never falters, and another gentle smile tugging on lips as he intently watches you.

The moon shines between the branches of the trees and illuminates the bodies of the paratroopers who were trying to get as much sleep as they could before the chaotic events of war happen again. The sounds of your steady breathing lull him to unconsciousness and the grip on your hands loosens up just ever so tightly.

The slight smile on his face still resides even as he passes out with you in his arms. On other nights, you two would have small, sweet conversations (not really since you did all the talking).

“You know I love you, right?”

You would tired say, words muffled by his chest. He knew you didn’t need an answer, for you already knew that he harbored a bottomless ocean of love and affection for you.

He was a man of a few words, but he repaid with his gentle and tender cuddles. They were worth more than 1,000,000,000 words to you.

That’s why all he could offer was a nod. A tiny gesture of agreement. You really didn’t mind how he would only give a small, subtle nod. No words could describe how much you loved each other. And that tiny nod was all you needed at the moment.

While you huddled against each other, the events of yesterday’s horrible events seemed so distant when he held you. Other nights, you two would just gaze at the moon.

“I will always love you... To the moon and back.”

Ron would say into your neck, his soft air tickling your cheeks. His only words for tonight. Your (E/C) eyes focus on the bright moon above your heads, a smile creeping its way to your parted lips. He would wrap his arms around your waist, offering you warmth in your tiny foxhole. Warmth that no sun could offer.

You were a tad bit sad about how you couldn’t see the stars since there was too much smoke in the air from the endless shellings the German attacked you with. But you supposed the gleam and stars in his eyes would suffice. They were much better anyway.

Once again you would fall out of consciousness with you tangled in each other's arms. Your much smaller hands interlocking with his.

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

That was the Ronald Speirs you knew. And that’s why you were confused to see how quickly he manages to change his attitude. How come he decides to always flip his attitude in the blink of an eye?

The moment the sun rises up on the horizon he turns from a doting lover to an absolute stranger.

Memories of those evenings seemed to be unreal in comparison to his harsh attitude in the mornings. They were the complete opposite of each other and it made your head spin just thinking of it.

You supposed that it was good for his reputation, and that it would make sure that soldiers would follow his orders.

He verbally told you countless times that he actually enjoys the fear he projects onto others. That it helped him to command others and that by being intimidating, it would put them in their place.

Yet, you still hated it.

The icy, cold gazes he lands upon you in the morning only seem to confuse the hell out of you. Those gazes make Bastogne feel like a humid, tropical island rather than a frozen hellscape.

So you kept asking yourself, what about what happened the night before?

The night where he ever so tenderly scooped you up into his arms and whispered sweet nothings and reassurances to you until you fell asleep?You figured that he was the devil in disguise. A very, very handsome disguise.

You’d sit in your foxhole when you weren’t busy, taking off your helmet and throwing forcefully across from you, the dull thud echoing throughout the small space.

You’d ball up your fists before rubbing your temples and running your cold hands through your (H/C) hair as a feeble act to calm yourself down. As the day passes by and when the snow keeps on falling, your slight bitterness for Ron always seems to disappear when night comes.

His icy glares also seem to melt away when the sun sets. Quiet footsteps and the crunching of snow alert you as you turned your head up to look who was approaching your foxhole.

You knew it was him… But you always have an overwhelming urge to catch a glimpse of his face every second you get. Your gaze travels up his body as he stands at the edge of your foxhole, straight, handsome face and all.

He silently jumps in your foxhole and you instinctively scoot closer to the dirt wall to your right to make room for him to sit by you. As he crouches his way towards you, you can’t help but notice the distinct twinkle in his eye whenever he’s around you.

You really wanted to stay mad at him for his stupid and confusing behavior, but the way his lips stretch into that achingly beautiful smile… How could you even really stay mad at him when he does that?

Your cold, dainty fingers reach up to take his helmet off. The pale fingertips of your hand touch the cool surface of his helmet as you gently take off his helmet. Slowly pulling it up to reveal soft locks of short, black hair.

You’re once again mesmerized by how the light from the moon reflects on his face and body, almost giving him an ethereal glow. Your chapped lips stretch into a small, playful grin as you set his helmet down on the freezing ground of your foxhole. Ron settles in the small space next to you, instantly giving your body warmth.

Then the thoughts of the way he bumped into your shoulder without as much so as giving an apology in the morning hit you. It is only in the mornings in which he acts like this.

He acts like a prick, ignoring you when you coo his name, nudging you off his shoulder every time you try to embrace him, and telling you off every time you say adoring words in his ears.

Your soft voice would call out to him to ask him what you did wrong, but he completely ignores it and acts like he doesn’t care before walking away. Leaving you in the forest with nothing but the trees to keep you company.

You couldn’t describe how much it infuriated you. You’ve always wanted to talk about, maybe bring it up to him just once. But when you see him crouching near your foxhole at sunset, the sky darkening and hiding you two in the cover of darkness.

Every word you were going to utter gets vaporized, and the annoying actions of his in the morning disappear as well. You are only left in utter bliss as you melt into his arms, and you’d forget how much you wanted to confront him.

Not today, though. You already had enough.

If the constant shellings and death didn’t make you snap, his ever changing attitude definitely would. You open your mouth to address how he’s been acting towards you during every single morning.

The mornings after you’d embrace each other at night. The nights where he’d hold you in his arms until you fell asleep. But you closed your mouth in an instant, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But he did.

“(Y/N)?”

Your (E/C) swiftly glance at him before quickly looking away. You scooted a bit farther from him. You really didn’t want to deal with him right now, but you had the overwhelming urge to speak to him.

“What?”

You quietly seethed. Your eyes widened when you realized that you accidentally made those words come out harsher than you intended.

“(Y/N)... Tell me what’s wrong. Tell why you’re suddenly acting like this.”

You didn’t hold out your annoyance on your response. You huffed and your breath became visible in the cold. You narrowed your eyes slightly as you furrowed your eyebrows to look at him.

“Acting like what, Ron?”

“Like a child.”

He really went down that route, huh? You, acting a child? (E/C) eyes widened for a second before narrowing again. Your breath hitched as he said that and you took to angrily biting your chapped bottom lip.

“How come you think I’m the one acting like a child? Considering what you’ve done, you’re the one that’s acting stupidly!”

“You’re going to wake up the whole company, hell, maybe even alert the Germans while you’re at it.”

“Don’t you dare shut me up, Ronald!”

You couldn’t give a damn if you were going to wake up every single breathing thing in the vicinity. Right now all you cared about was giving Ron a piece of your goddamn mind.

Ron still stared at you, trying his best to look indifferent. But you could see the way his jaw was clenched, with tense shoulders, and slight laboured breathing. You tried your best to look like you weren’t affected too. You failed miserably.

You knew each other like the backs of your hands, things could barely slip by you two and every single movement was noticed. So you felt just a bit foolish when you’d tried to hide things from him.

Ron couldn’t help but notice the way you were also tense. It was obvious, the things you do.Like nervously pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Your chest heaving up and down from your outburst and small visible breaths pulling from your lips while you weren’t biting down at it.

You did your best to muster up all your courage and just hate him for the time being. You tried, you really did.

Was loathing him a difficult task?

Yes. Yes, it was.

Your eyes would involuntarily soften for the quickest of moments before you would quickly try to mask it by narrowing your eyes once again. Ron would always catch those beautiful (E/C) eyes of yours mellowing up. Whether it would be for a millisecond or for 20 years, Ron would always catch the warmth in your eyes that was only held for him.

He goes to move towards you but hesitates for just a moment. His eyes dark back between your face and the ground. Ron’s lips purse before he looks over to your face to speak to you.

“Y/N... Bab-”

“Don’t bring up that baby bullshit with me, Ron. If you aren’t going to do that in the morning then don’t do it at all-”

“That’s what you’re upset about?”

Suddenly the thin shell that held all your pent up frustration cracked, and you responded the fastest you ever had in your entire life.

“Of course that’s what I’m upset about! How come every night we do this, the next morning you’re giving me the cold shoulder?”

While chastising him for his mix-matched personality, you failed to see the amused glint look flashing through his hood, onyx eyes. Ron smirked lightly and unknowingly moved closer to you with each word you fired his way.

“You cuddle me and say that you love me but it sure doesn’t damn seem like it!”

You rant as you gesture wildly with your hands, his smug face only angering you more.You put on your highest voice and mocked the man who was literally 5 inches away from you.

“I love you (Y/N) this, and I love you (Y/N) that. Here’s a suggestion. How about you fucking act like it?”

You leaned back forcefully to the dirt wall of your foxhole as you roughly slam down your hands on your lap.

It was a fucking miracle that no one put up their heads and told you to shut up yet. You inhaled a couple more breaths before deciding to talk again.You took a deep breath and finally mustered up the courage to directly look in his eyes for the first time this night.

“Can’t you see that it’s driving me mad, you idiot-”

Before you could even continue to scold him, a familiar, deep and husky chuckle enters your ears.

“So you think it’s funny,” You whisper.

“So you think it’s funny, huh?”

You repeated, only louder and emphasis on every single word.

“You really think it’s all a joke?”

Disbelief was all you could feel, the biting air no longer seeming to bother you as you took in the resonating sound of his laugh he did mere seconds ago.

“(Y/N), listen-”

“No. No more excuses, I should’ve brought it up ages ago, but-

“Oh for fuck’s sake- Just listen to me, (Y/N)!”

You were used to him raising his voice, but that statement was spoken with such force and authority your lips closed almost immediately. He scoots closer to you, your noses almost touching now. His calloused hands reach up to grab your shoulders while you gazed at him intensely.

It was deathly silent, the wind whooshing and the occasional snore from one of the paratroopers were the only noises in the snowy forest.

The firm grip he had on your shoulders loosened up and his furrowed brows and eyes soften. He drops his head down to look at the frozen, dirt ground as his thumbs stroke the tepid fabric of your uniform.

“Please…”

That was the only word he could gather, the soft way in which he had said it showed you how desperate it was. You exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding and decided to calm down to finally listen to Ron.

Seconds pass after you relax your stiff posture and your shaking hands instinctively stroke his short, soft hair. Your cool fingertips cradle his head as you trace your finger on his jawline. Your hands continue to slide against his slight stubble and chilly skin like you always did.

“Tell me, Ron… Why are you treating me bad?”

“I don’t trea- I don’t… I don’t…”

Ronald Speirs, stammering and failing to find words like a new replacement? No one would believe you if you would have told them this. The way you still held his head in his arms couldn’t have been described as nothing more than affectionate and loving, but you continued to question him.

“So how come you treat me like shit every morning? After the things we do…? After you tell me you love me?”

“It’s just that… I don’t know how to act... The men see me as intimidating and I need to keep that image up… If they see me with yo-”

“So you’re saying you’re embarrassed to be seen with me?”

Ron went stiff and his mind flew to think of a reason that would diffuse the situation. Can’t you see how much he absolutely adores and loves you with all his heart?

“It’s not- (Y/N), you know that’s not what I think.”

“Then what do you think, Ron? Just tell m-”

And just like that Ron quickly delved down to capture your lips in a kiss before pulling away, instantly stopping you from fully asking your question. The air is once again silent, widened (E/C) stare at hooded, onyx eyes in surprise and shock.

As you opened your lips to whisper something to him, Ron, just as quickly as before, dived to press his lips against yours. You were rigid, but this kiss was nothing you two have ever done before. It was needy, deep, and passionate.

Your body eased and pushed yourself forward to deepen the kiss. You groaned softly as he ran his skillful hands through your hair like he always does. He sometimes gently pulled at the roots, eliciting more groans into the kiss, and the air would quickly become heated.

The kiss was only broken for a few seconds before you’d start all over again. Each kiss became more feverish and vehement than the last (if that was even possible).

His hands pulled themselves out of your hair to slide its way to your hips, his strong grip making itself known as he pulled up you to sit on his lap.The never-ending round of kisses excited you and you longed to feel his soft lips on yours. Sleep be damned, this was all you needed right now.

While his hands stroked and gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, hips, and sides through the layers your paratrooper uniform offered.

The dark fabric of your uniform felt paper thin in his touch, as you could clearly feel the warmth his hands exuded as he trailed his hands up and down your body.

Trails of goosebumps was what he left in his wake, the fuzzy in your stomach arising from the compassionate touch.

Deciding to make use of your non-occupied hands, the once stationary hands found a way to wrap against his neck, urging him to kiss you deeper. You’d rub your hands on his neck then trailing them down and up his body in a similar fashion he caressed yours.

Mimicking his previous actions, you’d pull at the short hairs at the back of his neck, a low moan was pulled out of his lips. Encouraged by this, you’d then grip Ron’s broad shoulders, holding him still as he relished the touch and taste of your sweet lips.

Softly pulling away, you gazed lovingly into his glassy eyes as he did to yours. Your (E/C) eyes looked down at his pink lips, slightly swollen like yours from the kissing before looking back up.

Your laboured breathing filled the empty space and the loud pounding of your heart never seemed to slow down. Minutes that seemed liked hours passed before any of you two did anything.

Your feverish forehead was resting against his, your eyes now resting on your hands woven into his. His thumb rubbing soothingly against your palm and the thick, warm air was replaced by the cold one of Bastogne.

“Ron?”

“Shhh…”

He shushed, his pointer finger pressing against your lips. This time you let him shut you up. Ron leaned slowly this time, not at all like the heated kiss before. It was soft and slow this time, giving you time to relish the vulnerability you two shared at the moment.

You could feel everything in this kiss and it was only now that you noticed his hands were fondly touching your thighs, the pant fabric doing nothing to hide the tender touches on your body.

You reluctantly pulled away, pouting slightly at the lost feeling. His beautiful face was now focused on yours, the glazed look in his eyes still lingering.

“Ron… Promise me you won’t treat me like that in the morning anymore. I can’t take it…”

“No promises.”

“I’m serious, Ron.”

You hardened your gaze, letting him know that you were completely serious. Your hands dropped from their place wrapped around his neck as you placed them on his chest.

“Ron, just know that... Whether you’re being bitchy or not, I will always love you. I always do...”

Your breath tickled his ear as you leaned in close to whisper them to him.

“Good.”

Beautiful pink lips tug into a sincere smile as he took in your flushed features. The argument was long forgotten and pushed to the back of your heads. He pulled you into his arms once again, a touch you never see yourself getting tired of.

Warm lips press against yours after Ron pulls you deeper into his embrace and you let yourself get lost in the feeling. You could never stay mad at him for that long anyway.

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

You sighed blissfully into the air, your chin resting on your hands as you relaxed in your wooden chair. The memories of what you two did in that foxhole on those nights still made your cheeks burst into flames.

A smile finds itself on your lips as you absentmindedly drift off to the days where you and Ron would do nothing but throw love in each other’s way. You twirled (H/C) strands of your hair idly, cheek still pressed against the surface of your palm.

Nimble fingers dance across your skin as you trail your hands to rub the tender skin of your neck and in other places too. Purple marks blossomed on your soft, (S/C) skin, and you couldn’t help as warmth spread to your cheeks and face.

The window in front of you was open, sunlight illuminating your features and making the diamond ring on your finger glitter like a galaxy. (E/C) eyes look over lovingly to your husband on the other side of the room.

Short, black hair still messy from last night’s activities and hickies were visibly poking out from under his collar.

He turns just in time to see your love-struck expression and a smirk was all he could offer you.

You snapped out of your daze as you hear the dull thumping of footsteps on the floor. You shake your head to clear your mind but you were only confused as the object of your affection was no where in sight.

“Ron-”

“What are you staring at, (Y/N)?”

A familiar, husky voice interrupts you and a small yelp comes from your lips as you jumped slightly in your chair, hands gripping tightly at the edge of the wooden table.

The yelp was replaced by a clear laugh as Ron picks you up to twirl you in the air. Ron looked at you in adoration, his eyes taking up the dazed look you still had in you (E/C) eyes.

Ron loved you so fucking much.

It was almost unbearable, but whenever Ron sees your gorgeous face, or hear your snarky comebacks and light laughs, he couldn’t help but fall in love with you again and again.

Ron repeats the action for a couple of times before setting you down on the hardwood floor of your house.You stand at the ends of your feet to place a quick peck on his lips, and your heart flutters to see a small smile blooming after the small deed.

“I’m only looking at the most beautiful being in the entire universe, Ron.”

“I think that would rather go to you.”

You raise your hands to cover your warm face, eyes watching through the gaps of your fingers to see his next move.

“Stop, you’re making me blush.”

“And when have I haven’t?”

There is absolutely no possible way for a man like Ronald Speirs to exist. You weren’t complaining though. You were glad you met this stunning, yet sometimes infuriating man, even if you met in unfortunate circumstances.

Giggles fill the air as you feel strong arms lift you up to a bridal carry. His arms support the underside of your thighs as he holds you delicately. Ron’s dark eyes examine your beautiful features before heading to your shared bedroom.

“Ron- Put me down! Where are we going?”

“I believe we still have some unfinished business from last night.”

You shivered as you saw the mischievous shine his now hooded eyes. He still manages to carry you in his arms as he quietly shuts the door behind him, making sure nothing will bother you two for the next few hours.

What you were going to do without this man, you didn’t know.

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

ahhhh im finally done! im sorry if i have any mistakes, i didnt proofread lol

i honestly like this fic and im living for it, but idk if its ooc

@radiantcade, i hope u and everyone else enjoy and like this fic 💕💕💕

i got another fic in the making, stay tuned loves

193 notes · View notes

bellewintersroe · 2 years ago

Text

Ron Speirs x OC.

Part 7! Here’s the link for the last part.

This chapter contains smut and mentions of nightmares/ ptsd.

Ron and Jenny have increasingly spent more nights together, delving in the comfort of each others arms. When Ron has a nightmare, fuelled with the trauma’s from war, he admits to finding comfort in staying with her. Smut ensues as the fondness grows between the pair.

GUYS THIS IS FUCKING FILTHY I REALLY SHOULDNT UPLOAD THIS I AM ASHAMED OF MYSELF ITS BEEN A REALLY LING TUME OK-

As Ron stirred from besides me, I’d let out a content sigh, smiling up to the roof of the decorated ceiling above. A room fit for a king huh? More like fit for a queen like me. I’d been awoken by Ron’s tossing and turning- I didn’t mind. Waking up during the early hours of the morning no longer bothered me so much now I was sharing a bed with him.

For the past four weeks we’d hardly slept alone. Whether that was him turning up outside my room or me sneaking into his, it had become a regular occurrence.

When he’d stilled, I’d settled back down into the comfort of the pillow, closing my eyes once again. A hum escaped Ron’s throat from next to me which caused me to turn back over, scanning over his expression. His eyes were still shut, indicating he was deep in slumber, but the frown tugging down on his face made him look troubled. Ron let out a soft pant again, almost sounding breathless as he shifted his hands. As he moved some more he began muttering words I couldn’t understand, breathing heavily as the pained expression on his face grew. Was he having a nightmare? He didn’t look to be enjoying himself, that’s for sure. “Ron.” I whispered after he let out another mumble. I ran my touch over the warmth of his shoulder, feeling his clammy his skin was. “Ron.” I muttered again, shaking him as he muttered again, this time letting out the smallest kind of whimper. It broke my heart, even the toughest of men could suffer such horrific night terrors after war. He shot straight up, sitting up and panting wildly whilst staring wide eyed ahead of him like somebody had a gun raised to his head. “Ron.” I whispered again, snapping him out of it as he stared back to me with the same frightened eyes. I I instantly felt my heart shatter when he turned back, kicking his legs off the side of the bed and rested his head in his hands.

“Are you ok?” I whispered, coming to kneel behind the worried man. My hand soothed over his back, glancing to see his face but his head was hung too low to see. “M’ fine.” His voice sounded rough as he shook my question off. He wasn’t fine, I could tell. I was at a loss of what to do as he sat there taking deep breaths on the edge of the bed.

“W- I can leave you alone if you need-“

“No.” A hand reached back to me, his voice breathless as he turned around, sinking back down into the bed and bringing me with him. “No, no, don’t.” His voice didn’t reach above a whisper, soft yet roughened by the huskiness of sleep lacing him. “Okay.” I muttered out, running my hand over his cheek as he swallowed. “Don’t leave.” He nudged his face closer to mine.

“I won’t.”

“No, don’t leave me.” Stunned by his saddened words, I didn’t have time to reply when he was pressing his lips up against mine. “I won’t, Ron.” I managed to add on against the kiss, his hands were running all over my bare back, gripping me close as I soothed down the back of his head.

When his lips fell into my neck, kissing and sucking, I was left a little confused. “Are you okay?”

“I need you.” He didn’t answer my question. “I need you more than anything.” His voice was gruff as he kissed me, harder this time. I couldn’t resist, if he needed me, he could have me, if that’s what helped him feel better then I would oblige fully. “You can have me.” I hushed as he was already burying his head into my collarbone, kissing and sucking deep marks into my skin. My breathing became heavier and I was stunned to feel his fingers dig under my underwear so quickly. I was still wet from the antics from the night before, so his fingers slid over my pussy with ease. “Kiss me.” He instructed as I opened my eyes again, looking back to his darkened eyes. “Are you sure you want to?” I pecked his lips. “Yes.” Ron nodded, pressing a lingering kiss to my lips before licking over them seductively. Oh, what was he doing to me?

The kiss became deeper, our tongues moving against one another’s as his fingers pushed deep inside of me, making me moan out at the sensation. My legs spread wider and I moved my hand down to pull his already hard cock out of his pants. It was my turn to make him feel good, he needed it- he could use it as a distraction. Ron snatched mg hand back up to his mouth, licking over my hands and sucking on my fingers, dampening them before we both moved it back down to his erection. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen, that alongside the obvious groans he wasn’t holding back, I couldn’t help but moan as his pace picked up. I felt his fingers twitching at an overwhelming fast rate inside of me, pumping them in and out as my wetness was evident from the noise filling the room. My hand began twisting around the end of his cock, pleasuring him as he ground his hips up into my hand. The only time I stopped was when the pleasure he was giving me was too much. “Give me one.” Ron growled, speaking into my ear as he pressed a sharp kiss to below my ear. I moaned in response knowing he wanted me to cum, little did we expect that his actions would cause me to squirt my juices over his hand and arm, wetting the bed as he groaned in sync with me. “Good. Good girl.” He seethed as my movements over his throbbing member continued. “That’s my good girl.” With a grip to my chin, he forced his two fingers that were inside of me, into my lips as I sucked seductively, using both hands to jerk him off now. Ron let out a broken groan, gasps leaving his mouth as my left hand cupped his balls, massaging them tenderly as his head dropped back. “Fuck- oh my god.” Hearing him out loud was one of my biggest turn ons, and despite the pleasure I’d just received my pussy was throbbing for more. His head was dropped back against the pillow, he laid on his back now, becoming somewhat submissive as I crawled over, replacing one of my hands with my mouth as I licked and sucked over his penis. He was leaking with precum, I sucked it all up, slurping and pushing my head down as I gagged over his length. Fuck it felt good, the way his hands were gripped harshly in my hair and spit was dripping down his cock. I hadn’t even questions how things had got so quickly to this point. “Make me nice and wet for you, that’s it.” Ron watched in awe, letting out a deeply vocal groan which caused my free hand to press in between my legs.

“Gonna feel so good when I fuck you.” “You like choking on my cock like that?” “You use your mouth so good on me…”

I’d come to figure when Ron was angry or sad or anything, sex was his outlet- and oh my god he was good at it. His hips bucked into my mouth wildly, snatching back my hair to take a look at the precum and spit that dripped from my mouth.

“Can you fuck me?” I borderline whinged as he watched me with widened eyes, yanking me up on top of him, holding his cock out for me to sink down on. I was a little sore from the sex last night, but he filled me up so well. Ron soothed his hand over my cheeks, lips parted ever so gently, the moment of softness replaced by his hips harshly thrusting up into me. I’d never rode him before, so the new angle felt insanely good. I felt like putting on a performance for him, thrusting my hips and circling over him as he groaned out in a manly manner. His hands gripped my ass, slapping them whenever I bounced on his stiff member. Ron tugged me down close to him, as I bounced my hips up and down, feeling his slap to my ass once again as I moaned out loud. “You’re so good at this aren’t you?” He hissed quietly, our faces were inches apart, but one hand in my hair held me back from kissing him. He was tormenting me, teasing me, milking every inch of pleasure out of me as he could. When I didn’t reply he tugged again causing a pained cry to escape my lips. “Yeah, fuck Ron.” I groaned, a panting sweating mess as he rewarded me by fucking into me some more. He thrusted once, testing the waters, before doing it again and again with the strongest thrust I’d ever felt. I thought I’d stop breathing it was that rough, fuck, he was good. I was meeting his thrusts half way, burying his cock deep inside of me as his fingers slipped over my ass and into unexplored territory. I let out a gasp, watching him gaze at me with inquisitive eyes. His finger grazed over my asshole, again, testing the waters as I fell into the trap of pleasure and stopped my movement.

“Don’t stop.” Ron reminded, voice more gentle now as I continued grinding over him desperately. His fingers were rubbing over my tight hole, before pushing one into me, using my wetness as lubrication. “Oh fuck!” The sensation was too good, Ron was a dirty fucker and I loved it. My hand snatched over his neck, scratching down his chest as he used his spare hand to move my hips, moving his finger in and out of me as both my holes were filled with him.

“You’re taking me so well aren’t you, oh fuck, that’s it baby.” Baby- oh god he had me moaning louder than ever before, my voice nearing a scream when he started fucking into me again. “Make yourself cum Jen, use your hands. Touch yourself for me.” His voice hitched with a groan when I began rubbing my fingers over my clit.

“I- I’m gonna cum.” I sobbed out as he pressed himself deeper in me. By the time I had reached my high I was wheezing, chest heaving and falling. Just as his cock threw me over the edge he’d pulled me closer into him, holding a hand firmly against my back whilst kissing me deeply. I was yelling against his mouth, shouting and crying out in ecstasy before I slumped back into the kiss, exhausted. “Oh god, Ron.” I gasped, feeling his finger slip out of me as he soothed down my back gently, holding me close. “Good girl.” He breathed as I came down, laid over his chest. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you?” He checked. “No.” I responded quickly as he kissed my cheeks, thrusting ever so slowly into me to remind me he was still inside of me. I could see he was holding back his pleasure, waiting until I’d fully come down and was okay to carry on again as he rolled my onto my back, keeping his thrusts to a minimal as we made out. It felt romantic, somehow the dirtiness of it all earlier relaxed into something more tender, something sweet. Ron stroked over the side of my cheek as his tongue danced against mine. Admiring the handsome man, I pressed kisses to his neck and jawline, sucking and kissing, careful to leave marks that were only reserved for the eyes of me. The noises he made above me were vulnerable and nothing short of pure ecstasy as he picked up the speed. I was beginning to feel the sore ache of down below and knew I needed Ron to finish fairly quickly. From my gentle whine and whimpers I think Ron could tell I was becoming tired. It was easily 3AM and despise all the excitement of the sex, my orgasm had tired me out. “I’ll stop.”

“No.” I insisted, pressing him closer into me by his ass. “You’re tired.”

“I’m not the one doing the work.” I smiled, my eyes heavy as he kissed me tenderly. “I’ll be gentle, ok?” He soothed as I hummed, nodding with a gentle smile as he gave me small thrusts, pulling me close as he continued a slow rhythm. It didn’t take long for him to build up to the point of finish. I could feel him sweating as he kept a focused face, jaw dropped and eyes locked with mine. “Cum for me Ron.” I whispered. “I need it.” My hand smoothed over his face, when I was about to let go he barely let out a ‘no’ before pressing my hand further to his face. His breathing increased against my lips, barely being able to keep the pucker of his own as he groaned into the kiss. “Fuck, shit, I-“ “Yeah.” I moaned as he grunted out, kissing me harshly. “I love you, fuck.”

————————————————————————

😳😦😵😲

#band of brothers x reader #band of brothers smut #Ron Speirs #ron Speirs x reader #ron Speirs smut #Ron Speirs x reader smut

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eugenebondurant · 5 years ago

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♡ → fluff || ❀ → smut || ✧ → angst || ☽ → drabble || ☆ → multipart fic

Summer Storm ♡ ✧

Gene Roe x Reader

For you, the summer storms in Bayou Chene are one of the most wonderful things about making your home in Louisiana with Gene. For him, they’re a little too close to the sounds of battle. While the storm rages, you help him forget those times when he was always there for everyone else by being there for him.

Four Weddings ♡ ☽

Speirton, Baberoe, Webgott, and Winnix

four vignettes on love, peacetime, and happiness

Those Stumbling Words that Told You What My Heart Meant ♡

Carwood Lipton x Ron Speirs || series (in progress)

part one

When Easy comes into the town of Alsace for the night, Carwood and Ron are billeted together in a room with one bed. Carwood’s got pneumonia, Ron is fretting over him, and both think the other should have the bed.

Peace and Time and Tenderness ♡ ❀

Carwood Lipton x Ron Speirs

After the war, Carwood and Ron stay in Berchtesgaden, where the sun is warm and peace is sweeter than anything they could have imagined.

To Celebrate This Night We’ve Found Each Other ♡

George Luz x Joe Toye

At the party celebrating their certification as paratroopers, Joe and George are tipsy and happy and can’t keep their eyes off each other. When Joe walks George back to barracks afterwards, George admits he doesn’t want to go off to war without having kissed a boy, and Joe decides tonight’s the night to make sure that doesn’t happen.

#she's babey right now but hopefully she'll be longer soon ^w^#eugenebondurant's masterlist #maddie writes stuff!#updated 4.27!

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problematicfavesareproblematic · 4 years ago

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Ignorance Is Blitzed (Part 7)

Ron Speirs x Reader

Summary: When you come into contact with some substance that makes you sick while on a routine building search, Ron realizes he may not be as emotionally detached as he’d thought initially thought.

Warnings: SMUT! YA GIRL FINALLY WROTE THE SMUT!, light angst, fluff, SMUT, Ron is a dom but he’s so into you he turns into a soft!dom, Reader is a mess, Ron is a tease, SMUT!

~ ~ ~ ~

Lewis Nixon was a dead man.

Even if Ron’s sudden (if not minute) PDA hadn’t clued you in to the fact that someone had told him about Nuremberg, the look of fear in Lewis’s eyes when you’d caught his gaze basically confirmed it.

You’d mumbled something about getting some air to Ron as you watched Lewis hightail it out of there, hot on his heels as he tried to escape the wrath that you were sure showed plainly on your face.

He doesn’t get far.

When you catch his elbow in what seemed to be the hotel staff’s dining room, he whines like a wounded animal and holds his hands up pleadingly.

“I swear to God I, thought you’d told him already—”

“I’m going to kill you.”

Nix scoffed at that, despite the fear clearly paling his face.

“Okay, one- people were going to find out eventually. Two? How in the hell was i supposed to know that you hadn’t told your boyfriend—”

“Not my boyfriend—”

“—yes he is your boyfriend- about it? And three: and he doesn’t even seem to be mad about it!”

You scoff at that, hands going to your hips as you stare at him in disbelief.

“It wasn’t something for you to tell- if the news that I was being asked to go in hadn’t come from you in the first place, I’d never have told you either! No one was supposed to know—!”

“What were you going to do, just dump him and disappear?!”

Your rebuttal sticks in your throat, guilt flooding through your veins at the bluntness of his question.

It must show on your face, because Lewis furrows his brows and looks at you in disbelief.

“No… Y/N, you aren’t seriously trying to tell me that you—?”

“I was giving him a clean break. I am giving him a clean break.”

You’d made the decision after you’d heard about Ron’s decision to stay with Easy and go to Japan, when you’d realized that neither of you were going to be going home anytime soon.

In Ron’s case, he may not come home at all- and if you knew him as well as you thought you did, you knew what that would mean for the two of you.

Hollow promises to keep in touch, followed by equally well-intentioned agreements to find the other when it all was over, both of you ultimately knowing in your heart of hearts that those commitments would inevitably fizzle out and die the moment the going got tough.

You didn’t want that, didn’t want to trap Ron in something that was destined to fail from the get-go.

As much as he liked you, cared for you, you also knew who he was. What he would always be.

A ruthless, brilliant soldier, ready to lay it all on the line at the first opportunity. And you loved him too much to ever ask him to be anything else.

He deserved to find happiness- even if it wasn’t with you.

Nix looked at you pityingly, a forlorn look on his face as he digested what you’d said.

“Look, I don’t know the guy well,” he mumbled, clearing his throat and taking a step towards you to rest a hand on your tense shoulder. “But anyone with eyes can see that you mean a lot to him.”

You nod and offer him a tight smile, eyes drifting downward to avoid letting any potential tears come to the surface. “I know I do- I don’t doubt that. It’s not about how things are right now, though. We don’t get to live in the right now for much longer.”

The hand on your shoulder squeezes at the muscle there, a small sound of admonishment escaping under Lew’s breath as you feel him watch you. He doesn’t like what you’re saying- you can tell that he wants to argue that you’re being ridiculous.

But even he knows that it wouldn’t be of any use. It wouldn’t change your mind.

“I don’t like the idea of leaving you here, Y/N. I’d bet if the others knew, they wouldn’t like it much either.”

You sigh, biting the inside of your cheek as you look back up at him and nod. “Guess I’m breaking up with all of you, aren’t I?”

Nixon’s eyes are shining, and you wonder if he’d be this upset if he were 100% sober. When you step into him to embrace him, he beats you to the punch and wraps his arms around you quickly, taking a deep breath that seems to make his chest expand to twice his size.

“I suppose you’re right. Not that being dumped ever stopped me before,” he gives you a sad smile when he eventually releases you, giving your shoulder a final pat before taking his hands away.

“Don’t be surprised when I show up at your window, drunk as a skunk and proclaiming my undying love for you at 3 am sometime in the near future.”

As you open your mouth to reply, you see Nix’s focus flick to something past your shoulder.

Even if you hadn’t seen the fear on the man’s face, you still would’ve known that it was Ron.

Because of course it would be him.

Gritting your teeth, you sigh and close your eyes. Dread tasted sour on your tongue as you turned your head to peer over your shoulder, flinching at the look of silent fury marring his handsome face. Sniffing, you force yourself to speak despite the tightness clenching at your throat.

“You should go, Lew,” you say quietly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Lewis says nothing as you turn around to face Ron, the sound of his retreating footsteps barely registering in your ears as anxiety sends blood thrumming loudly in your ears. Ron’s sharp eyes make you feel impossibly small, and you think you can now understand what everyone else had been talking about for the past few years. Ron was scary. You did feel scared.

“You and I need to get some things straightened out.”

His words are clipped, and if he sees you flinch at the tone in his voice he doesn’t show it. You inhale shakily, realizing you had been holding your breath for too long and wetting your lips as you searched for the right words to say.

Just as you open your mouth to speak, Ron turns on his heel and begins to stride off, and once you are able to unstick the soles of your shoes from the floor you trail after him cautiously. When you reach the doorway, you see that he’s stopped a few paces from the door frame, waiting. In a move that surprises you, he uncurls his hand from the fist it had been in and holds it out to you, eyes heavy and dark and trained on you.

Quickly, you flicker your eyes between his face and his hand, only stepping forward and taking it after you’ve mustered up enough confidence that it wasn’t going to be something you regretted doing. You’d never had someone mad at you like this before, at least not for as intimate a reason as he was now. Of course, you’d never allowed yourself to care for someone like this before either- maybe this mortifying combination of guilt and heartbreak was normal.

The moment your hand finds his, he turns away from you and starts walking again, and as you follow you realize that he’s leading you towards the room you both share. There's no softness in the way his hand holds yours, the grip firm and unyielding. It almost makes you feel like a child being pulled off for a private scolding from a parent.

You hate it.

The journey to your room is both too long and not nearly long enough, and it’s only when he opens the door and releases your hand that you fear that you may never get the chance to feel his touch ever again. That reality was already one you’d been dreading, with him leaving so soon to go where you could not follow. The thought of that time coming sooner because of something like this was devastating.

You stand in front of the door once it closes, ready to have him ask you to leave at a moment’s notice. Unblinking, you watch him shirk off his jacket and toss it on a nearby chair, shrugging the suspenders down from his shoulders with a spark of agitation. His hair has begun to fall into disarray, and the idea of him hating you while looking so unfairly handsome makes your heart tighten painfully in your chest.

Unwilling to wait out the inevitable for a moment longer, you clear your throat at steel yourself.

“Ron-”

“You don’t get to hide that kind of shit from me.”

He doesn’t look at you as he speaks, his voice quiet and uncomfortably devoid of emotion. As he walks over to the table that held a decanter of whiskey and fine crystal glasses to pour a drink, you tuck some of your hair behind your ear and try again

“I was just trying to give—”

“—give me a 'clean break', yeah. I heard.”

Bringing the glass to his lips and taking a sip, you watch as he clenches his jaw and swallows.

“Did you ever think about asking me what I wanted?“

That does throw you, and as he sets the glass down and turns to look at you you make no move to hide the look of confusion on your face. Glancing down at your shoes, you shake your head softly and try and find your voice once more

“I- but you don’t want this. You don’t want to be tied down—”

“And what makes you so confident that you know what I want, huh?”

There's clear anger in his voice now, and you look up just in time to watch him walk over to you. You straighten as he comes to a stop right before you, hands braced on his hips as he all but glowers down at you.

“You don’t get to make those sort of decisions for me- got it?”

He emphasizes the bite on the ‘t’ in ‘it’, the puff of air from his breath hitting your face.

When you make to turn away from him, one of his hands flashes up to grip your jaw- his touch gentle but authoritative enough that you know it’d be a bad idea to go against it. Something about the movement irks you, makes your heart beat faster from something much darker than fear or dread. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you tilt your head back infinitesimally. Defiantly.

Ron notices, his nostrils flaring slightly. “Last time I checked, you aren’t a mind reader- and even if you were, you’d be a shit one because if you think what I want is anything other than you, you really don’t know me at all.”

“Stop it, Ron,” you mutter quietly, watching as his eyes flicker down to your mouth before dragging back up to meet your eyes again. “You’re being mean.”

He exhales sharply at that, a ghost of a rueful smile quirking his mouth before shaking his head.

“Am I?”

When you roll your eyes, he steps into you even more, using his hold on your jaw to tilt your head back further so you are still able to hold his glare.

“Like it or not, Y/N, you’re it for me- you got that? If you don’t want to believe me, that’s fine- but know that I’d tear this whole entire goddamned continent apart if you wanted me to—”

“Why!?” you snap, his declaration bringing forth the sadness you’d managed to temporarily quell.

At the sight of tears refilling your eyes, Ron’s brows furrow and some of the darkness leaves his face. Shaking your head imploringly, you bring a hand up to circle his wrist.

“You could do anything, be anywhere with anyone you wanted! We….we’re just children, Ronald- and I love you but I’d never delude myself into pretending that I know the first thing about how to do this- any of this!”

You bring your other hand up to rest lightly on his chest, lowering your gaze to look at the slight tremble of your fingers as you do so.

“You were born for greatness, born to lead and fight and conquer….but all I was born to do was just exist for other people- like my parents or my family or whoever else needed something from me. Then, eventually, become somebody’s wife and give him a family. But….. I threw away any chance of that future in order to be here, and now that this is ending I have no idea what I’m supposed to do!”

Swallowing in a vain attempt to keep your voice from breaking, you look back up at him, offering him a small, shaky smile.

“I won’t drag you down that mess with me, you deserve more than that- than me. I won’t ruin you, too—”

“Y/N,” Ron murmurs admonishingly.

“What?!”

With an ease that you two had only just begun to establish, he seals his mouth to yours, effectively shutting you up and forcing you to take the first deep breath you’d taken in a long time. There’s an edge of desperation to it- just as there had been in your first kiss back all those months ago in Foy.

Only this time his lips taste like whiskey and something a tinge more wicked.

A promise of more.

Breaking the kiss but keeping his face close you yours, Ron brings his other hand up to cup your face. Brushing his thumb across your bottom lip, he eyes you softly.

“Don’t tell me what I deserve.”

Kiss.

“Stop telling me what to do.”

Kiss

“Let me conquer.”

This kiss is filthy, his lips plush and confident and unafraid in their mission to leave you completely mindless. Ron has stepped so close to you that your head has tilted all the way back into his hands, his fingers purposefully twisting in your roots so he has more control over the kiss.

Despite the fact that he’s never handled you this way before- you have no desire to ask him to slow down or be gentler.

You like it. You want more.

When you whimper into his mouth, you can feel him grin briefly before sliding one hand down your back to fist at the material of your shirt and bunching it free from where it had been tucked into the back of your pants.

Up until now, Ron had been nothing but gentle when it came to you- and while you knew him to be dominant and ruthless in battle you’d considered what his temperament would be like as a lover. Clearly, the confidence translated.

You slide the hand that had been on his chest up and around his shoulders, your elbow hooking around his neck and pulling him closer. As you nip at his bottom lip, Ron hums low in his chest. The hand he’d had on the small of your back has moved down to grip at your ass, and with a quick peck he pulls back slightly.

“Hold on,” he grumbles, and just as you open your mouth to ask for clarification Ron wraps his arms around your hips and lifts you so you’re having to lean into him, your feet stumbling across the floor as he turns you both and quickly walks the both of you to the bed.

He’s barely set you down before his hands find the hem of your blouse again, rucking it up your sides before your brain catches up with him and you tear it over your head. Your skin feels hot, and it feels even hotter at the feeling of Ron’s lips mouthing at the tops of your breasts as you fumble with the clasp of your bra.

“Shit,” you hear yourself curse, hating your fingers for being so uncoordinated. Undeterred by the fabric of the bra you’d pinched from one of the homes the lot of you had been asked to secure a week ago, Ron bites softly at your nipples until they stiffen. When you finally unhook the fastenings, he pulls the cups of the bra down easily and continues his attentions.

You curse again, head swimming at the realization that his own fingers have found the zipper of your pants and begun to pull it down. Carding your hands through his hair, you desperately try and calm your breathing while distantly realizing that he’s still fully clothed.

“Ron,” you gasp, looking down your chest and meeting his bright eyes as he sucks marks down the valley between your breasts. “I wanna see you—”

His hum is dark as he mockingly tilts his head at you, successfully pulling the fabric of your trousers down your hips until gravity takes over and it all pools at your feet.

“You are seeing me,” he insists quietly, trailing his blunt fingernails down your hips until they catch your underwear and shucking them down your legs as well. When you frown he bites some of the skin just under your left breast, chuckling wickedly at the squeak of surprise you’re unable to hide.

“Take your shirt off!” you nearly whine, your head falling back as he laves at the bite with his tongue. “You’re not being- shit….you’re being unfair—!”

“Then do something about it.”

You do whine at that, too frustrated to worry about being gentle as you take your hands from his hair to claw at his shirt- bunching and pulling at the fabric covering his back until you manage to get enough in your fists to pull it gracelessly over his head. Pure want has boiled your blood like a fever, with the only two thoughts in your mind being more more more and faster faster faster.

Before you can work his shirt any further down his arms, he shoves you back unceremoniously onto the bed, quick to pull your hips to the edge of the bed before bothering to continue undressing himself.

With a nearly comical desperation, you toe off your shoes, licking your dry lips as you watch the muscles of his torso bunch and lengthen as he strips the remainder of his clothing off- his eyes on you the entire time and his gaze doing nothing to calm the heaving of your chest.

“Christ, look at you,” he says quietly, a clear note of pride in his voice. “Too pretty for your own good, aren’t you?”

You blush at that, swallowing audibly at the praise and squeezing your eyes shut.

It all just was so much….

When you open your eyes again, you moan at the sight of him kneeling before you and pulling at your legs until they were over his shoulders. As you start to sit up you are pushed back down again by his hand on your chest, the feeling of his breath on your sex robbing you of any speech capabilities you had previously possessed.

“Just like that,” he commands gently. “Stay just like that.”

Maybe it was because it had been a while since you’d had any sort of sexual intimacy with another person, or perhaps it had more to do with the fact that your previous sexual partners hadn’t been particularly invested in the act, but one thing was for certain:

Ron Speirs was unfathomably good at cunnilingus.

You could only gape stupidly at the ceiling with your mouth open in a silent scream of overwhelm as he took your clit between his lips and absolutely ruined you- his tongue and teeth and fingers tearing you away from reality with a nearly cruel proficiency. It was almost humiliating how effectively he dismantled your already tenuous sense of composure, and if you had any sense of pride left you probably would’ve hated him for it.

He was making a mess of you, and he was doing it too easily.

Feeling a sheen of sweat glisten your skin, you can only hold onto him as your body trembles- and it’s all you can do to keep your hips on the bed as your back arches and your body rocks.

“Ron, please….I’m gonna cum—” you hear yourself choke out in warning, squeezing your eyes shut as something burning hot and sugar-sweet builds deliciously in your lower belly

“Oh yeah?” you feel him ask, one of his arms hooking around your hips to help still you. “Want to bet?”

Your eyes flash open

“What—?!”

You nearly howl in fury when he takes his mouth away, instantly sitting up to watch in betrayed dismay as he curls two fingers inside of you and adds a new kind of stimulation- one that keeps you on that cruel precipice without offering you any sort of relief.

He smirks up at you, and any affection you’d previously held for him is jeopardized by his clear mirth at the situation.

“Sorry, Sweetheart,” Ron says lowly, nothing in his voice conveying any sort of remorse. “But you don’t get to call the shots right now.”

You open and close your mouth desperately, unable to decide which sort of response would get you what you wanted. A frustrated shriek slips out in the interim, and when his smile broadens you remove your hands from his hair and smack at his head.

“Jesus Christ, Ron! What’s the matter with you—?!”

“Do you have any idea how good you taste, Y/N?” He continues as if you hadn’t spoken at all, ducking down to place a greedy kiss to your sex before pulling back again. “To think you were going to have me leave without letting me get my mouth on the source….absolutely heartless—”

“I get it, okay? Fuck Ron! What more do you want me to do?”

You wince at the addition to a third finger inside of you, the stretch adding the tiniest bit of ache to your horribly prolonged almost-orgasm. The forearm across your hips holds you down when you try to squirm in any direction in hopes of getting some more stimulation.

“Apologize.”

You widen your eyes at him, a scowl on your face as you look down your panting chest at him. “What?”

Like the cruel bastard he is, Ron shrugs as if the solution to all of this has been obvious the whole time.

“Say you’re sorry, and I’ll make it all better.”

Shaking your head, you hear yourself scoff. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You yelp as he turns his head to bite your thigh, fisting a handful of his hair to pull him away.

Smoothing the flat of his tongue over the bite, he closes his eyes wistfully and sighs.

“Close, but that’s not what I want to hear,” Ron says before tilting his head and looking back up at you, the tendons in his forearm pronounced as his fingers tirelessly continue their strokes inside of you.

“Say it. Say ‘Ron, I’m sorry.”

Biting the insides of your cheeks, you fix him with a glare and sigh with frustration.

“Fine! I’m sorry, okay? I’m really fucking sorry, Ron!”

He purses his lips, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. You whimper as he slides his fingers out from inside you, but before you can think yourself victorious Ron uses those fingers to start rolling your clit- still keeping you on the edge while giving you just a hint of what you needed.

“Goddamnit, RONALD—!”

“Tell me that you deserve me,” he demands, his words taking on a gravelly tone. As you search his eyes, you see a heartbreaking shine of sincerity staring back at you. “Say it and then I’ll let you cum.”

Your throat is becoming tight, an unexpected wave of emotion hitting you and bringing tears to your eyes. The hand not currently torturing your clit squeezes your hip, and with a shake of your head you close your eyes.

“I-I deserve you,” you acquiesce, feeling your lower lip threatening to quiver. “I’m sorry.”

“Gutes Mädchen (good girl).”

Your head falls back with a moan as he latches his mouth to you again, body bowing as he ruthlessly finishes what he’d started and destroys you- sending you spiraling into bright euphoria and letting you float in the heat of it. You’re suddenly thankful for the arm across your hips, for it’s the only thing anchoring you to the real world as you shake for him.

“So perfect,” you can hear him saying, his voice now at your ear as you become aware of the press of his cock between your lower lips. “You’re the most perfect thing I've ever seen.”

Whining pathetically, you tilt your head back and clutch at his back.

“Please,” you beg, eyelids heavy and gaze unfocused. “Please—”

He doesn’t draw it out this time, quickly hooking his arm under your left leg and opening your hips so he can press himself inside of you. Still wrung out for your orgasm, you can only cry out softly at the feeling of him bottoming out, a broken sound of his own vibrating through his chest into yours.

You’ve never considered Ron to be a particularly talkative person, so when he begins to babble it catches you off guard while simultaneously endearing him to you further.

“I can’t believe how good you feel You surely were sent to ruin me God you’re such a good girl Better than I could’ve imagined Squeezing me so tightly I don’t want to be without you I want nothing else than this In what world would you think that I wouldn’t adore you I am yours entirely you ridiculous woman Shit I can feel you shaking Getting so tight Fuck do that again Are you going to cum again I want to hear you scream….”

Too lost in his words, you don’t know if you actually screamed as you came again- but you do know that at some point you’ve turned your head and sealed your lips to his. His hips stutter as he cums with a breath shout, his free hand dancing up and down your side with a carnal desperation that you could understand but not replicate- not now.

Because now you are well and truly wrung out.

The weight of Ron’s body atop yours is welcome, and the sweet way he kisses you is almost too much for your fragile mind to process.

“Y/N?”

Ron’s voice is soft, and as you blink your eyes open you cannot help but smile satedly up at him. He looks beautiful, and the soft way he’s looking at you makes you feel beautiful, too.

“Hm?”

He brings a hand to your face and smooths some of your hair behind your torn ear.

“You weren’t born for someone else,” he says the words carefully, as if he is struggling with ensuring that they are the right ones. “But…. I’m starting to think that maybe I was. Or that, maybe we were…..Do you get what I’m trying to say?”

Taking his face between your hands, you take a deep breath and let your eyes drift across his handsome face.

Lifting your head, you lightly press your lips to his and sigh.

“Yeah, Ron….I think I do.”

He deepens the kiss, pulling you with him as he rolls to the side and holds you against him.

“Mo Leannan,” he murmurs into your hair as you rest your cheek against his chest. “Mo Chridhe.”

You furrowed your brow, the words unfamiliar and in a language you could not identify. It was common knowledge that Ron spoke a passable level of German, but from the way his mouth wrapped around these words, you wondered if he was fluent in another language and had just never told you about it.

“What did you say?” you asked softly, exhaustion having crept into both of your bodies and rendered you mostly immobile.

Humming, Ron wraps the hand you’d rested on his chest in his and brings it up to his face so he can kiss your palm.

“Later,” he says sleepily before lowering your joined hands to rest on his sternum. “I’ll tell you later. Rest.”

And because you believe him, you do as he says and allow yourself to be swept away.

~ ~ ~

HELLO AND HI! This took forever and a day to write but only bc I overthought everyhting and got distracted by other shiny things SO WHOOPS MY B! Anyhoo- I love ya’ll and remember to hydrate!

Taglist: @mrseasycompany @itswormtrain @mrsalwayswrite @happyveday @sunsetmando @ricksmorty @liebgotttme

#band of brothers imagines #band of brothers x reader #ron speirs x reader #ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs imagines #problematicfavesareproblematic

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marvelmymarvel · 6 years ago

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Promote Me, Love Me

Part 4/12

Ronald Speirs x Lieutenant!Reader (Mainly)

Carwood Lipton x Lieutenant!Reader (Kinda)

Synopsis: You have one goal in this war, to rise faster in the ranks than Ronald Speirs from Dog Company. The only problem, you’re hopelessly in love with the crazy man. Will it mess up your chance to be better than the arrogant careless man, or will it make you realize that ranks aren’t everything when it comes to love? But when you find out that your best friend Carwood Lipton has been hiding feelings for you, what will you choose in the end? Speirs, Lipton, or that Golden Rank you’ve dreamt of since you were a little girl, only war will make that decision.

A/N: No one is dating anyone yet... So anything that happens doesn't really qualify as cheating... I promise you. I don't like cheating. Also, I know that I hint a lot at smut but I’m sorry to say that I will never write it. But you’ll know if they do have sex, just won't write it ya know. Anyway, enjoy part 4!

You lifted your head up from Lips shoulder at the sound of a scream. “What the fuck was that” you hissed as you flew up. Lip grabbed your wrist, still half asleep but you pulled out of his grasp, “Y/n I think it's alright, come back sweetheart” he grumbled but you shook your head, “I’m gonna go check it out” you whispered before climbing out. It didn't take long before he was fast asleep once more, he knew you’d be careful. Considering you were surrounded by men that would take a bullet for you, you were safe out there as much as you were in his arms. You walked towards the sound that was now a moan. You heard footsteps from behind you, turning you straightened up “Flash” you called out boldly. Your hand was on your hip as you waited for the person to exit from the treelines. “Thunder” he purred out as he exited. Your heart stopped at seeing Ron and you fought back a smile. “What are you doing out of your foxhole Lieutenant,” he asked as he stepped closer. You were 5 feet away from each other, yet he somehow took your breath away like he was centimeters away from your lips. You just kissed your best friend hours before... Multiple times as a matter of fact after the first one... And yet, Ron seemed to make you forget everything.

“I was going to check out the sound Lieutenant” you whispered out as he stepped even closer to you. Your breath hitched as he towered over you, “Why are you so shaky... Lieutenant” he purred out the title as if it was the sexiest thing he’d ever say. It certainly made your knees buckle a little as he caught you by the arm, his hard grasp made your breathing shallow as you looked up at him. He leaned down, his lips swept past yours and detoured to your cheek and then to your ear. “I find it fascinating that I have this effect over you” he whispered sensually. It sent shivers down your spine as your eyes fluttered closed in lust. He kissed your ear, then down your jaw slowly. When he pecked the nape of your neck was when your eyes snapped open in realization. Pushing him away you backed up against the tree that was only a couple of feet behind you. Your chest was rising and falling quickly as you tried to catch your breath. As you tried to ground yourself from what was about to happen. While you wouldn't have done anything sexual with him in the middle of the woods. You couldn't deny that if he was about to kiss you, you would kiss back without a second thought. But Carwood. “Stay away from me Speirs” you hissed finally pushing off the tree. His face fell into one of confusion, as only hours before you were looking at him as if you wanted to kiss him till he died. Something changed. His face morphed into one of understanding, and he wasn't happy. “You and Sergeant Lipton” He whispered out gruffly. You fell silent, not knowing what to say or do. When you didn't say anything he turned his head to the side as he let out an incredulous laugh that felt dry and made you want to run and hide. Turning his head back to yours he sent a dirty glare that made your heart stop. “And to think I actually-” he began but before he could continue, he heard a branch snap close by. He glared at you before walking towards it, gun in hand, this was your chance to escape the suffocating conversation you two were about to have. Rushing past behind him you heard him talking to a soldier who came to check on the moaning like you did. You ran towards your hole and slid in, breathing heavily you gripped onto Carwoods body like he was the only one that could ground you at that moment. “Hey honey” he whispered out drowsily, you were quiet as you were trying to catch your breath and slow the thoughts that were racing in your mind. When you didn't answer he sat up quickly, now fully alert at the fact that you were possibly in danger. How could he fall asleep and let you go alone?! He couldn't trust that you’d be okay, and right now, he was afraid that-that one sleepy choice had harmed you. “Y/n... What happened” he pressed as he cupped your cheeks in his strong hands. You whimpered out, you couldn't tell him. He would look at you differently. You felt the guilt flood your body as you just shook your head before flinging into his arms, hiding your face in his neck. “I’m so sorry Car” you cried out and he just held you, his mind racing trying to figure out why you were crying and why you were sorry. He pulled you away and grabbed your cheeks once more. “What are you sorry about Y/n” he stammered out, afraid to hear what you were going to say. Your lip quivered at the thought of telling him. While you weren't dating yet, you didn't want to hurt him. You shook your head and sucked your lower lip in between your teeth. “I should have stayed in the foxhole, I’m sorry I didn't listen” you lied before pulling from his grasp and laying back down into his arms. He didn't press. You were thankful. You didn't want to hurt Car... Not on someone who meant nothing to you. But those were empty words that you told yourself to sleep at night. Even then though. You barely slept.

You stayed out of the battle. Instead, you stood up above on the hill with Nixon and Strayer. Sink gave you the heads up earlier that day that you would be promoted to Captain in the intelligence side of things. No more combat. Much more stress. So here you were, being shown the good and bad things that were happening down below by Nixon. Who you would be working with for the rest of the war unless you were promoted once more. You were shaky as you brought out a cigarette, putting it to your lips, you lit it. Inhaling the smoke, you began to feel your muscles relax, but your heart was on that field. Your heart was in the danger. How can one possibly relax, when you could possibly see someone you love die in front of your eyes. And you couldn't do anything about it. Exhaling shakily, an evil thought crossed your mind. ‘Who exactly are you even worried about’. The thought made your heart skip a beat as the cigarette settled in between your shaky fingers. Your head snapped over to a heavy metallic sound from the right portion of the field.

“Holy shit” you whispered as you saw the German tanks rolling up. Your heart stopped as you stepped forward, your cigarette falling from your fingers as the tank shot out towards the left flank.

“Sir, Dog and Fox company are pulling back” You heard Nixon call out to Strayer “WHAT” Strayer hollered while turning to the left flank. Your blood ran cold. Dog. “Ron” you whispered out as you saw all the men flying out of the trees.

“Who gave them that order goddamnit” Strayer hissed and you just watched in pure and utter fear. “Please” you whispered to yourself as you watched more bombs explode along the tree lines. “Please let him live.” You were begging, pleading for his life... For both of their lives. Your head snapped up at another sound, a tank shell exploded at the Germans tank. Your eyes widened in shock and your head whipped towards Lewis who was watching through binoculars. You were praying it was a good sign. Looking back, you saw what it was.

The sight made every muscle in your body relax. Chills erupted on your arms as you broke out into a gigantic smile. “Well hello second armored” Nixon called out from behind you and you let out a relieved laugh as tears formed in your eyes at the beautiful sight of the Shermans. With their help, the airborne was able to push back the Germans and you were finally able to capture Carentan with no more backlash. By the end of the battle, all of the Easy company soldiers emerged from the trees and you flew down the hill. Lip’s eyes lit up once he caught sight of you. You felt yourself melt at the mere thought of his arms wrapped around you. Safe. Calm. Secure. Flying into his arms, he encompassed you in warmth and safety “Hi sweetheart” he whispered softly as he held you close. “Are you okay Car?!” you whispered after a couple seconds of just holding onto him for dear life. You pulled away a little and ran your hands along his shoulders and body, looking for any wounds or blood. Finally, your hands grabbed at his face, looking at him as if you couldn't quite capture a mental image of him. As if he would fade away any second now. As if this was a dream and you’d find him dead in some trench hole. Cold and bloody. Something you would die to never see. “I’m okay Y/n” He laughed out at your frantic ways. It was really quite adorable, the way you were so adamant about finding him, that you ran down the hill instead of taking the Jeep with Strayer and Nixon. But that would have taken too long. You needed him. Now. ‘Needed who?’ the thought crossed your mind and you silenced it by kissing Carwood firmly on the lips. Holding his cheeks securely in your grasp, you deepened the kiss as he wrapped the arm that wasn't holding his gun around your waist. Pulling you closer to his body, you pulled away before pressing your forehead to his. Your eyes traveled behind him to see the other men. But they stopped on one man. You saw him behind Carwood, making your breath hitch as he watched blankly at you both. You pulled your face away from Lip and smiled softly at Ron. “I’m so glad you’re okay... Ron” you stated stubbornly. No emotions were laced in the tone, but you knew that it was difficult to hide the emotions bubbling under your skin from appearing in your eyes. Apparently, Ron had the same issue. His face was blank and emotionless, but his eyes spoke of nothing but pain and heartbreak. It was true. He did like you. Ron nodded before turning swiftly to walk away. Carwood was watching and still held you close by the waist. “What was that all about?” He whispered out at Ron’s dismissive attitude. You simply shook your head before turning to press your lips once more to his. “Doesn't matter” you muttered out finally before stepping back and grabbing his hand in yours. “Let's get you cleaned up” you cooed as you looked at his disheveled state. He smiled and you two took off towards the trucks that would hopefully take you somewhere where there were warm showers and warm beds. A place.. Where you and Car could finally go on a date. Where you could hopefully forget all about Ron. But that seemed highly unlikely as well.

Aldbourne was relaxing. While you and Carwood didn't really go on a date. You started to feel your emotions lessen towards Ron. Maybe you just needed to get closer to Lip... Maybe you were just getting better at suppressing it. You didn't really know. But you were getting drunk in the barn with Dick and Car so you didn't really care at the moment.

Nixon walked in and you smirked at your partner in crime, “Well hello there” you slurred out as you leaned against Dick for support. Lew rolled his eyes playfully at you but leaned in to tell you both of the news. It made you sober up real quick and you cleared your throat before setting down the beer you had in your grasp. “Can you tell him Y/n?” Nix asked you and you nodded before you all three broke away. Walking over to Car, you slid your hands down his shoulders and to his chest before wrapping them around him lazily as you leaned behind him. “Word just came in.” You started quietly into his ear as he grabbed your clasped hands that rested on the middle of his chest. He zoned out from the men around him, tuning into you and only you. “The training exercise tonight at 2200 hours is canceled. Passes are revoked and we are moving back out to France...” you whispered quietly, finally feeling the weight of those words as your fingers absentmindedly grabbed at his shirt tightly. He moved his head more towards your lips as he looked up at you. “Everyone needs to get their stuff ready immediately... We won't be coming back anytime soon. The trucks will be leaving from Membury at 0700...” you continued sadly and he just nodded at you before looking back down. Pressing your lips to his ear you let go of his shirt and backed away. Grabbing the beer you had set down, you walked out as Lip stood to give the announcement, you didn't want to hear it... Seeing the men's disappointed faces was enough pain to give you nightmares. They couldn't seem to get free of the hell. You hated that. Swigging the last of the beer in the bottle you walked towards the house in which you and Lips room was. “You alright there Captain” you heard someone call out from behind you. You whirled around shakily seeing Ron standing behind you with a cigarette hanging between his lips. Your eyes were on the cigarette but they shot up realizing you were staring at his lips as well. The taste. His taste. Fuck. “Lieutenant Speirs” you greeted with a slight nod, trying to hide the fact that you were caught staring, and that you knew you were caught staring. The smile that formed on his lips made you uneasy but made your insides swirl as well. “Care for a cigarette... Y/n” He whispered as he stepped forward, offering the box to you. You hesitated, thinking about all the stories you had heard. But you weren't afraid of him. Your eyes lazily shot back up to his and you scoffed quietly to yourself. “You gonna shoot me if I say yes” you garbled out, your eyes widened in realization and you promised yourself to never drink like this again. His smile fell into a scowl and he felt dangerous as he stepped closer to you. Your eyes shot to the carton, not really able to handle the glare he was giving you. “Just take the cigarette... Y/n” he muttered out coldly, “And find out if the rumors are true.” Your eyes shot back up from the pack of smokes to his eyes, your mouth felt dry and you cleared your throat before taking a cigarette. Putting it in between your lips, he lit it for you. Never breaking eye contact. You exhaled the smoke and nodded at him. “I never believed them anyway” you murmured before turning to leave, he watched your body retreat and he couldn't help the smile that formed on his lips. “Good” he murmured to himself before turning around to head back towards the barn where he took off from when he saw you leave. He didn't want his favorite girl being afraid of him. For he’d always be there to save you. Even if there was someone in his way. Lipton wouldn't be in the way for much longer. The minute you realized how much safer you felt around him instead of Lipton, it would be game over. He would win you over. He thought as he turned his head back to see you entering the house, you would be his. He turned back as he entered the now quiet barn. He would die trying.

Part 5

tags:

@hell-itwasyou @desired-love-

#band of brothers imagine #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers #carwood lipton imagine #carwood lipton #carwood lipton imagines #ronald speirs #ronald speirs imagines #ronald speirs imagine #promote me love me #promote me #love me

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bloodstainedsaint · 1 year ago

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rumors and gossip (ronald speirs x nurse! reader smut)

summary: (takes place around episodes 2 and 3) ronald speirs has trouble expressing his feelings towards you. when he catches wind that you're spreading rumors about him, he gets upset and doesn't exactly know why. but there's only one way he knows how to solve this issue: through action.

word count: 3100+

warnings: SELF-INDULGENT SMUT, reader has female genitalia, abuse of authority (read: speirs likes getting called by his title), degradation, praise, spitting, unprotected sex ("remember boys...flies spread disease, so keep yours closed!"), spanking, rough p in v sex, facefucking, fingering, orgasm denial, mentions speirs being taller than reader for like one second, SOFT SPEIRS AT THE END BC HE HAS A LIL CRUSH

notes: i see your soft speirs and i love him too, but i raise you mean dom speirs (both can exist at once). also i'm sorry in advance

Ronald Speirs didn't know what to make of you.

You, the pretty nurse he kept staring at whenever he’d catch a glimpse of you around base. You, who he often observed diligently treating the many men that came under your care. You, who sometimes met his gaze from across the post with a bashful smile before turning away.

One could say that within Ron, something was brewing towards you. Something that made his heart skip a beat in a manner he hadn't expected war to allow at all. As of recently, however, you began to elicit different feelings in him.

Ron was well-aware of all the rumors and gossip being spread about him. He wasn't oblivious to the fearful way the men looked at him, or, rather, preferred to not look at him. The more people who viewed him as a mean son of a bitch the better, he thought. So he let them circulate without much care, with only a dead glare that reinforced them.

When he heard that you were helping pass on those rumors, telling anyone in need of a good story about how Ronald Speirs, or as he had heard, “Lieutenant Sparky”, had heartlessly killed German POWs after offering them smokes or how he put down one of his own men for being drunk on duty— he was upset. This mystified him: why was he annoyed (or was troubled a better word for his feelings?) when you gossiped and not when any of his men did? It couldn't be that he secretly yearned for your approval; that seemed foolish, too unlike himself…but then again, you made him feel unlike himself on several occasions before.

Ron was a man of action, and he was going to ensure you induced no more bothersome feelings within him by simply giving you something to gossip about.

It was late at night when you found yourself alone in the medical station. Every wounded soldier had been relocated to another facility either on base or out of it entirely for some reason or another, leaving you with a number of empty hospital beds and an entire station to yourself. You had told the other nurses to pack in for the night and that you would tidy up by yourself; you didn't mind having something to do while it was finally tranquil in the hospital.

While you replaced bedsheets, you remembered Ronald Speirs glowering at you earlier that day, rather than his usual intense, unreadable stare. You hoped it wasn't because he found out that you were spreading rumors about him, but you suspected it was; really, you had overheard a Private Malarkey talking about Speirs’ supposed actions to a fellow soldier he was visiting, and several more soldiers had told you similar stories about Speirs as you tended to them. When your other patients asked you if you had heard anything juicy, what else were you supposed to tell them?

Behind you was a click of the door opening and closing and a gush of wind, nearly imperceptible enough to keep you in your musing. Expecting to see another nurse or perhaps a soldier who had somehow gotten himself injured in the middle of the night, you turned around and felt your eyebrows raise when you saw the man in question, half-shrouded in darkness by how the moonlight fell upon him.

Still dressed in his fatigues, he stalked over to you with slow, steady steps. He towered over your form, his eyes almost completely covered in the shadow beneath his helmet. The slightest glint you could see of them was cold, and you could almost feel his leer pierce through you. You had never realized his height from all those times you saw him from afar; you’d noticed his good looks instead, though you never wanted to admit that to yourself. Not about the soldier you were spreading such heinous rumors about.

“Lieutenant Speirs?” Your words came out more unsure than you would've liked. You didn’t even know why you were nervous; it's not like you'd done anything particularly wrong— nothing that dozens of men weren’t also doing as well. “Do you need me for something?”

A suffocating silence pervaded the room. For the moment that he didn't respond, instead fixing you with a stony glare, your heart stopped beating in anticipation. You half-expected him to materialize a gun and shoot you on the spot until he finally broke the silence and said blandly, “I've heard you've been spreading rumors about me.”

When you didn’t answer immediately, he stepped closer to you. Willing yourself not to flinch away, you could now fully see the cruel look in his eyes; it didn't help your uneven breathing or your clenched heart.

“Have you?”

You blanched, mouth going dry. “...Yes, sir.”

He tilted his head, carrying on in that unemotional yet somehow soft tone. “Our good little nurse is the one gossiping, huh? That right?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. Good little nurse? “I, uh—”

“Answer me,” he demanded, his voice hardening. His calloused fingers reached for you, clenching your cheeks so tight together that your jaw could not move to form words. You slurred your words like a drunk trying to give an intelligible answer.

“Pathetic,” he scoffed. Your eyes widened, and, shamefully, you felt heat rush to your core. Speirs noticed your surprise, and you were sure you weren't hallucinating a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You wanna tell me what you've been saying about me, nurse?”

You could only mumble in response. “What, too scared to say it in front of Sparky himself? I heard you were running your mouth earlier, though.”

You shook your head and uselessly struggled in his unyielding grasp. Bastard.

Gazing down at you for another tense heartbeat, Speirs let go of your face and took off his helmet, placing it on a nearby metal table and revealing his slightly tousled hair. “Get on your knees. Let’s put that mouth to good use.”

Your blood went cold, yet your body felt hot. You must've looked shocked because he sighed and looked at you expectantly.

“Well? Don't keep an officer waiting.”

You blinked dumbly. He gave a command. Who were you to disobey? You thought as you sunk down to your knees, your skirt acting as a barrier between your skin and the rough floor.

“That's what I like to see.” He began unbuckling and unzipping his pants before pulling out his erect member, standing tall, girthy, and swollen at the tip. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Again, you hesitated, looking up at him in disbelief at what was happening. You never expected to be kneeling in front of Ronald Speirs; maybe in the darkest recesses of your mind you fantasized about the Lieutenant doing whatever he pleased to you, but you never expected it to actually happen.

“Nurse, open your mouth now before I take your face and start fucking it.”

You clenched your thighs at the thought, opening your mouth to take his cock in it. You kissed the tip and licked a stripe from the base to the end before slowly enveloping it with your mouth. Ron shuddered at the feeling and put his hand in your hair, petting it with a whispered curse —perhaps he had thought about this exact scenario as much as you had?

You continued to swallow his cock whole as his hand tightened in your hair. You whimpered at the sensation, sending vibrations to his member. He stuttered your name out in response.

As you sped up your steady pace, you looked up at him from underneath your eyelashes, watching as he lost his composure, his chest heaving. “Shit…that's my girl. You're even prettier with your mouth full of my dick. Can't yak as much, can you, nurse?”

A moan slipped out at the unexpected praise, and you let your legs part as you slipped your hands between them and rubbed yourself through your soaked panties, adrenaline coursing through your veins. When Ron’s eyes focused themselves again, he caught the movement and his eyes darkened, no longer glazed over.

“Who said you could touch yourself, nurse?” he gritted out, as if his cock didn't twitch in your mouth at the sight of you pleasuring yourself. The hand in your hair clenched into a fist, but that didn't discourage you; instead, your hand went faster as he started pulling your mouth off his cock and slamming it back in at a punishing rate. You felt drool trickling down your chin, your throat burning. You greedily breathed in air during the brief respites he granted you before brutally shoving his dick down your throat.

When your eyes stopped rolling to the back of your head, you took in his disheveled state and rubbed yourself faster. His hair messy from running his hand through it, his face and a sliver of his chest gleaming with sweat, his barely suppressed deep groans. He looked heavenly compared to his actions.

Abruptly, you were pulled off his cock and placed on your back on the metal table next to his helmet. He hurriedly unbuttoned your nurse uniform, damn near ripping your clothes off of you and throwing them carelessly next to you, until you were bare before him. The cold table chilled your spine, and you arched your back into his wandering hands. In your lust-filled daze, you managed an indignant thought of how unfair it was that you were the only one naked, that his body was being left up to the imagination.

“You ready for me, girl?” He rubbed your clit in tight circles, better than you could've done yourself and better than you could've ever imagined at night, before gauging your wetness with two long fingers plunged deep into your heat.

“That wet from a little roughness?” he smirked. “Our little nurse isn't so innocent after all. Maybe that's why you spread all those rumors about me. You wanted this.”

“N-no, sir—” You gasped, cut short as his fingers quickly found that spongy place within you. You cried out for air as he relentlessly pressed against it with every movement. “That’s, mmh, not true…”

“Can’t understand you, nurse. Can you repeat that?” He said, voice tinged with smug amusement.

Closing your eyes tight, you could only whimper in pitiful reply as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten. So close to the precipice of sweet release, you could almost feel yourself stepping off—

But before you could, Speirs pulled his fingers away. You eyes shot open to gape at him in irritation until you saw him slowly bring his slick-coated fingers to his lips and suck them off.

“Did you really think I'd let a little gossiping whore like you come so easily?” He fixed you with a remorseless, sadistic look. You panted, desperation festering within you as he forced your mouth open and spat in it. “Now swallow, and I'll fuck you like you deserve it, nurse.”

You swallowed obediently, yearning for his cock inside you. In an uncharacteristic display of softness, he pressed his lips to yours and whispered against them, “Good girl,” before switching back to the Speirs you knew and roughly flipping your body over so you were bent over the metal table, your tits flush with the frigid surface and your ass on full display to the Lieutenant.

Speirs took a moment to run his hands over your body, grabbing and squeezing at the flesh of your breasts, ass, and thighs, spreading your juices around your sensitive pussy as you tried to wiggle away, overstimulated. Holding your hips so you wouldn't move, he grinded his dick against your heat and teased your hole, his precum mixing with yours. Just as you were about to whine for him to stop teasing and fuck you already, he seemed to grown impatient himself because he slid into you in one fluid motion, punching the air out of your lungs and forcing your walls to stretch around him and accommodate his size.

“Fuck, so tight for me,” he grunted out, his voice hoarse as if it had taken away his breath as well. After a moment of heavy breathing and a squeeze of your hips, he began brutally pummeling into you. You unabashedly let out a high-pitched moan at the pace, and you felt his cock throb inside of you as his name left your lips.

“Quiet, nurse. You want the whole base to know?” he said, out of breath, “Guess that'll give you another story to tell about me, yeah?”

You wanted to rebut this, saying that the lewd slapping noises of skin on skin that filled the room were probably spilling out through the thin walls of the station anyway. Instead, you heaved a breathy, “Yes, Lieutenant,” that had him growling and picking up the pace, your body moving with every thrust. He took your hands, which until then were gripping the table for dear life, and held them together at the wrist with one of his.

The hand still gripping your hip was so firm you felt it was going to leave bruises in the morning. The more pressing issue, though, was how you were going to walk the next day.

“All you needed was some good dick in you to shut you up, huh? What a dirty girl,” he groaned as you clenched around him, “And here I thought you were all innocent, nurse. You wanted this, didn't you? Say it.”

Your cheeks burned red out of embarrassment, and you floundered for words. “N-no, Ron, that’s not—”

You were interrupted by the resounding smack of his hand colliding with your ass and the stinging pain that brought tears to your eyes. Your hands twitched in his grasp.

“When you talk to an officer, you say ‘sir’. Understood?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathed out, and he tenderly rubbed the aching skin of your ass, calling you a good girl as he resumed pounding into you. Your heart ached at the praise.

In your fucked-out state where all you could focus on were Speirs’ deep grunts and his cock inside of you, you felt yourself getting pulled by your hair until you were mostly standing with your back pressed against his well-built, sturdy stomach. One arm closed in on your neck so that your throat was in the crook of his elbow while the other hand roamed around your body, pinching and kneading as it went, until it settled at groping your breasts.

The new angle allowed him to thrust deeper into you, so deep that you could almost feel him in your throat. Tears that had welled up in your eyes freely fell thanks to the restriction of air. When his hand moved downward from your breasts to your lower stomach, pressing down upon it, the pressure and fullness of his dick inside you intensified. You could tell you were ready to freefall from that peak again as your breath hitched with every thrust, walls clamping down around him. From the increasingly erratic rhythm of his thrusts, you could tell he was there with you.

Then, for the umpteenth time that night, Ronald Speirs surprised you. His mouth became a stream of praise and words of adoration, like you were some kind of angel and this was his altar, while his lips possessively decorated your neck and shoulders with dark marks you were sure you wouldn't be able to hide.

“Fuck, you were made for me, weren't you, sweetheart? You're, hah, so beautiful when you're under me. So perfect. My pretty little nurse.”

His soft words in his husky tone, though they threw you for a loop and definitely required your attention when you were back to thinking straight, sent you into the sweet release of your climax. He swallowed your pleasured scream with his lips on yours, gently bruising your lips with the passion of his kiss. You had no idea Ronald Speirs could be so tender and so dominant at once.

The sporadic clenching of your walls around him led him to his orgasm, and he bit into your neck with a low, long groan as he filled you with his warm release. Your body went limp against his, held up only by his arms around your torso. After the two of you regained your breath, he pulled out, and you quietly whimpered at the sudden emptiness. He carefully laid you down with your back to the metal table, tucked himself into his pants, zipped and buckled them, and looked around, searching for a towel to wipe yourselves off.

“The towels, uh, are over there.” You pointed in the direction of the cloth. “You can run some water over them in that sink, if you want.”

He nodded wordlessly and followed your directions while you laid there, thinking about tonight's events and wondering if maybe you had dreamed it all after a late night of cleaning up.

You were broken out of your reverie by a glass of water being placed next to you and a warm, damp cloth gingerly wiping the insides of your thighs and your privates. Speirs didn't dare to look at your face as he did so. Once he was finished, he looked around again for a place to discard the used towel. You laughed, saying, “I'll take care of it, sir.”

He set the towel down on the table. “Do you,” he started, but then paused, glancing at your still bare form and your flushed face, realizing how intimate this had become, “need help getting dressed?”

“I'll be fine, sir,” you said with a tired smile, “I know my way around some clothes.”

He nodded again, more to himself than in response to you, and picked up his helmet. The moonlight now illuminated all of his face, revealing the red that had risen to his cheeks, whether out of exertion or, if you were interpreting this right, shyness. He now made eye contact, his gaze decidedly gentler than when he walked in. “Goodnight, Nurse (Y/N).”

“Goodnight, Lieutenant.”

His eyes lingered for a second, his expression the same as the ones he would hit you with from across the base, before he turned, lit a cigarette, and left into the night.

Watching his retreating form and the smoke cloud dissipate behind him, you shook your head and pondered his strange deviation from the Speirs you knew, or who you thought you knew. As you got dressed and prepared to clean up the mess the two of you made, you came to the conclusion that maybe Ronald Speirs is more than the ruthless man the myths had made him out to be.

Maybe Lieutenant Sparky had a heart after all.

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