#ronald speirs x f!reader

[iceman-kazansky]

Two Halves of a Heartbeat, Beating as One

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Merry Christmas @currahee! I'm your secret Santa!

Request: a character who assumes they won't get a gift for Christmas, only to be pleasantly surprised.

Pairings: Ronald Speirs x f!reader

Warnings: Death, depression, probably swearing, kissing

A/n: Hey! I've never seen your account prior to this, so I'm glad to have you as my designated Secret Santa gift receiver!! I hope this is tailored to your liking, and I hope you like this! Merry Christmas and happy new year! :)

Taglist: @inglourious-imagines || (If you'd like to join my taglist; submit a form here!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥

The days slowly melted past one by one, very scarce new events occurring. Every day was a repeat of the one before. Countless shelling from the artillery located just across the clearing. The never ending supply of dead soldiers soaring as morale stooped to an all time low.

Everyone was on the verge of their breaking point.

Through the harshness of Sobel in Toccoa, all the way to Holland, the 506th had been through so much death and destruction yet had remained steadfast throughout it all.

But now, in the company's arguably darkest time, the regiment became ever-fragile. The exhausted soldiers couldn't handle any more of this.

False promises of the war ending before Christmas had become what kept the 506th going, but as the day ticked closer and closer that hope began to dwindle.

Everyone, no matter the transparency each individual experienced as the thought dawned on them, knew they weren't going home for the holiday. They never were.

Dragging yourself from those wretched thoughts, you exhale softly, your breath creating a thick fog that rises and dissipates nearly as fast as it first appeared in the cold afternoon air. Even now, where all you could focus on was the numbness of your fingers, the air held a certain briskness to it that made your throat and nostrils burn when you inhaled.

‘Now is not the time for such dark thoughts’ you think to yourself, shaking your head as if to knock some sense into yourself.

Those thoughts, the one that let reality set in a little too far, were killers. Even just a mere drop in a soldier's ability to keep strong mentally on the frontlines ultimately affected their physical well-being aswell. In a time as dire as war, a drop in strength translated directly to a meaningless death.

In the distance, you could hear the crunching of feet on snow growing increasingly closer.

“Sergeant,” The voice is firm, yet recognizable. You glance up at the mysterious figure who approaches, once again ripped from the storm of endless thoughts brewing within your very mind.

Ronald Speirs.

You instantly recognize Dog companies CO. An intimidating man surrounded by rumors he'd never bothered to confirm nor deny. Yet, a handsome man. His face is one of chiseled beauty, like a Greek god. Something you'd been sure to notice over your countless interactions. Since you'd known him, Speirs had treated you equally despite being the only female in the 506th. Something you admired.

Ever since your first weeks at Toccoa, you’d taken a special interest in Speirs, and naturally you’d gotten a lot closer.

Speirs isn't one to dawdle, so he gets right to the point, “Sergeant, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Go ahead,” you reply through chattering teeth, sore from clenching them closed so often.

"What are your plans for Christmas this year, if we go back to the states?"

Even in the cold, you can feel your cheeks flushing red. He wants to know what you're christmas plans are?

Not answering immediately, letting the words sink in as you formulate a response, “You don't seriously believe that?" You chuckle dryly at last, "I thought of all people you'd be the most sensible."

"No, I don't," he replies after a moment of silence, "but everyone at least has some plans this holiday. A hope. I wanted to know what yours was." You could've sworn you'd seen him shift his gaze away momentarily, but his face was shadowed by his bulky helmet, obscuring your vision of his beautiful face.

"That everyone wouldn't be me, then," you avert your attention momentarily to his lips, but shake your head in disgust at yourself, what were you looking at? He was your superior! "What about you, captain? Any plans yourself?"

"I was going to visit family if we went back. But, seeing as that isn't happening anytime soon, I thought I'd settle on a gift for someone here." He responds.

“Who would that lucky person be?” You ask, curious who the CO might be referring to. You think back to the town of Bastogne, the town a few klicks away, and all the people for him to choose from.

“I'm still not sure.” he shrugs, standing abruptly and moving away silently, leaving you puzzled and alone.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Christmas day had arrived grimly, the promise of being home by this day long forgotten and farfetched.

The Germans on the other side of the clearing were fortunately nice enough to halt the bombing for the day, leaving the front lines oddly quiet for the first time in weeks.

Despite this, morale wasn't very high. Nobody in the 506th wanted to be in the frozen-hell they were right then.

Standing and unable to withstand the boredom of your foxhole any longer you left to relieve yourself momentarily.

Upon standing, your limbs ached, stiff and sore from the cramped position you'd stayed in for multiple hours, and your feet numb while you stumbled the first few steps. You remembered Doc Roe's countless warnings to the 506th about trench foot. Something you wanted to be certain you wouldn't catch. Perhaps you should invest more time in moving about.

It didn't take long to finish your business, and you figured you ought to head back to the safety of your foxhole soon. Afterall, you never knew when the next shelling would occur, the Germans were unpredictable. You wouldn't doubt they'd go beyond cruelty and bomb the 506th on a day like today. And that was something you absolutely didn't want to be out of your foxhole for. You'd seen the destruction left in their wake countless times.

Your feet crunching loudly in the fresh snow was all you could think of as you retraced your steps back to the front lines. Along the way you passed a few E company members, smiling a little at them and wishing them a short ‘Merry Christmas’ as you trudged past.

Ahead, your empty foxhole beckoned and as you drew near your excitement at the small warmth it provided grew rapidly. You prepare to jump in, but pause at the sight of a small cardboard box nestled at the bottom. The peanut-coloured box appeared as vibrant as blood in the dull white and gray surroundings.

Jumping into your hole, you're careful not to crush the delicate box while you move into a sitting position, pulling it into your lap.

Curiosity consumes you as you open it carefully, revealing a small silver object, a thin wool blanket and a pristine white letter.,

Taking the necklace out you raise it to your face for examination. The pendant was long, and had a natural shimmering silver allure to it. At one end, a small, smooth heart was suspended by the lengthy yet elegant chain. It was beautiful. You gasped as you moved it around in your palm, a large smile pulling at your lips.

Carefully, you fastened the necklace around your neck, looking down to admire it settled against your collarbone once more. Not wasting any more time, you moved onto the next object. An army-issued blanket. Something the company should've been guaranteed before it came to Bastogne, but was never supplied. You took it out, taking care not to lose the letter you had yet to open. How did your mystery sender manage to get their hands on this? However they did it must've been tough, they were in demand everywhere. The material was wool, and you could almost imagine the warmth it provided.

After a short examination of the blanket you were eager to move to the last object, a letter. Grabbing the object and letting your fingers run over the grainy surface momentarily before pulling open the seal to reveal the neatly-folded contents.

Unfolding the letter you're stunned at the lack of words, but regardless begin reading;

Dear Sergeant,

I hope you enjoy these gifts. Merry Christmas.

Signed, Ronald C. Speirs.

Speirs got you these? Hardly containing your smile, you close the letter once more, slipping it into your pocket and getting out of your foxhole, leaving the blanket and box behind.

It took every ounce of strength you had to not run as fast as you could to his assigned tent, instead maintaining a brisk walk. However, something you couldn’t contain was the dopey smile that tugged itself onto your face as you moved, your heart pounding in your chest and your face flushed a bright scarlet.

As you drew near, your pace quickened ever so slightly, your mind urging you to move faster than your legs would allow. You were itching at the prospect of seeing him. Finally reaching the sepia coloured tent, it’s walls faded and worn from the harsh uses it had endured throughout the war, you say “Permission to enter, sir?” from the other side of the tent wall.

His husky voice answers from within the tent, allowing you entry immediately after your request. Without further ado, you step in, blinking to readjust your eyes. In the shadowed room, you make eye contact with Speirs. “I wanted to thank you for the gifts, sir.” You say, not quite sure how to properly thank him.

“Please, just call me Ron,” he corrects, smiling softly at you. A sight so beautiful and rare you can't help but stare in awe. He stands when you enter, maneuvering out from behind his desk.

“Then call me Y/n,” you counter, mirroring his smile.

After a moments pause where nothing is said, you resume, “Ron, do you mind me asking why?” You say hesitantly, unfamiliar with the use of his true name, seeming like all formalities were tossed aside, “Why me?”

He looked at you with an odd unnamed emotion, yet so familiar. It seems like a millenia passes before he replies, “I have admired you since we've met, Y/n.” He pauses to allow the words to sink in, watching your expression closely, “Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I've always been set on you. You drive me crazy. When you step into a room, you're all I can look at. Everything else is irrelevant. When you talk, your voice echoes in my ears all day like a mothers lullaby.

“I've never wanted another woman so badly as i've wanted you before. I didn't care for the dames of Eindhoven like most men. I wanted you. And only you. I've come to the realization I love you, and I couldn't wait another day for you to carry on, not knowing.” he stops to drink in your features before he allows himself to continue, “It's alright if you don't feel the same. I know how terrible the timing is. I can't believe I allowed myself to become so vulnerable in a state of war.”

Without missing a beat you reply, “I feel the same.”

Truthfully, you can hardly believe your ears. It's like a dream come true. You'd loved Ron since he'd done that daring act with Dog Company and the batteries, and you swear you could've felt your own heart stop when he leaped out of that trench and ran, exposed, into the battery, guns blazing. You'd heard the rumors about him too, but they didn't scare you. In fact, they almost drew you in closer, with hopes of unravelling them yourself.

Without even noticing it, you and Ron had begun moving closer to each other, pulled by some other-worldly gravitational force. Drawn to each other like a moth to flame.

When he was within reach, he lifted up his hand, cupping your cheek while the gap grew smaller yet, your faces hovering inches from each other, “Can I kiss you?” he asks, eyes flitting down to your lips only to return once more to your eyes.

You couldn't speak, only administering a nod before he closed the gap.

His lips tasted of lucky strikes, something you wouldn't have thought to expect at first, and they pressed against yours passionately, releasing his inner tension. Your lips moved against his in a synchronized dance, two lovers moving against each other like twin moons in the sky, orbiting the same center. Like two halves of a heartbeat, beating as one.

Reluctantly, he pulled away breathless, resting his forehead against yours.

“I've never wanted more than to kiss you,” he sighs, “I love you.”

“I love you more, Ronnie,” You whisper back

[blurredcolour]

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

————————————-

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!

[bellewintersroe]

Ron Speirs X fem reader smut!

Part 1 - this idea just sprung to mind earlier today. This is set in the Eagles Nest on VE Day, when Easy company and their nurses are celebrating. Ron and the nurse reader don’t really have too much a relationship/ friendship but after some Dutch courage Ron gets a little touchy and a heated exchange ensues. I’m going to make this into a series of Ron Speirs x reader being f*ck buddies and maybe it develops into more but they have to struggle with the problems that come along with that seeing as fraternising in the army is not allowed.

18+ content below the cut, drinking alcohol, sex, foreplay, masturbation, cunnilingus, oral sex, unprotected sex, Ron feeling the reader up… Stay tuned for part 2.

“I don’t think Hitler would mind us staying here very much.” Harry Welch’s words made me giggle out a drunken laughter as I sipped on the bottle of red wine in front of me. Red wine, I hated it, I always had- but with the abundance of it and the desire for celebration, I felt compelled to drink it. It was fair to say I’d got a certain level of drunk that I hadn’t been before. Despite the conversation flowing naturally around the drunk men and nurses, my mind was elsewhere, occupied with the overwhelming emotion of lust for the man sat next to me. Captain Ronald Speirs- my Captain, currently drunk with his own bottle with his thigh pressed against one of mine. The proximity to one another had moved closer only when a few beverages had been drunk, we’d squeezed up originally to fit more men and women on the table we’d taken over in Hitler’s own Eagle’s nest in Berchtesgaden. Before this celebration, Captain Speirs and I hadn’t muttered more than a few words to one another when it wasn’t about our profession. The man was a mystery to me, an extremely handsome, dominating mystery. Truthfully, I’d had my eyes on him for a while, his handsome looks were undeniable, his intimidating stare only made me blush. As one of Easy’s nurses, it was completely inappropriate for me to fantasies about my Captain, but I couldn’t help it. “Sure he wouldn’t.” Now, he was drunk. Super friendly and clearly in a celebrating mood- like us all. His hair was dishevelled and his lips were dampened from remnants of red wine. Red wine, an aphrodisiac, it was either that or just Captain Speirs in general. My eyes wandered, lingering over his rogue appearance, his head turning down to smile back to me.

His eyes were hazy, as were mine, I felt my lips lift in an attempt to give him a flirtatious smile as I felt my heart speeding rapidly. His gaze lingered over me for a few seconds, before falling onto my lap below. I felt the nudge of the back of his hand on the side of my thighs, covered only with the thin, white material. My breath hitched, and the sensation of his hand running over the out to inner of my thigh made me want to moan on my exhale. His lips were ever so lifted in a gentle smile, as were mine. He must’ve heard my soft exhale, keeping his hand lingering on my leg as I fidgeted my legs a little upwards. They tensed and gave me the slightest friction I needed. God, I desired Captain Speirs, his hand being on me only made me crave more. I borderline couldn’t believe I was in this position, but I wasn’t complaining.

My focus was no longer on the conversation, my breathing was a little heavier and the more wine I sipped the more I couldn’t distract myself from the aching I felt growing in my core. My tongue pressed against the inside of my mouth, glancing down as his thumb slid over my thigh, catching on the material slightly and nudging my stocking down just the slightest bit. Fuck. He wanted them off, it was a sign, it had to be. Neither of us were talking, we’d gone quiet, nobody else had noticed, and I liked that. I felt stiffened, upright and rigid as I pushed my chest out slightly, shifting forwards so my arm knocked into his. Confidently, I ran my fingers over his hand, nudging him closer to the inside of my thigh. God, I was throbbing for him, I wandered if he could feel it? Speirs’ hand tightened over my flesh, fingers gripping over my stockings and tugging at them every now and then. Was this him indicating he wanted to fuck me? I hoped it was, I glanced at him through the corner of my eye, and I could see he was doing the same, watching the way my stocking slipped further and further down my leg, exposing the skin under my nursing uniform which had ridden up. In the place of my stocking, was now Ron’s thumb, stroking over my flesh as I took another deep breath in an attempt to cool myself down- metaphorically. I was so horny and gazed I couldn’t think straight. What only made it worse was when I felt Ron shift from besides me and he was readjusting himself in his pants, he was hard. It was so obvious, and big, he’d managed to conceal it a little more, but when I saw he was clearly erect for me I could barely stand the ache any longer. I let out a soft hum as I cleared my throat to conceal it, crossing my right leg over my left as his hand was trapped between my flesh. I think he knew what I was doing, the throbbing and desperation became too much and there wasn’t bough friction, so when his hand began kneading my skin further, I found it so difficult to not moan out his name. Fuck, this was going to happen, we were going to find a room and Captain Speirs was going to fuck me- oh god, I needed him to touch me, in more places than just my leg.

Ron lifted at my stockings, tugging it back up as much as possible as I took another breath, followed by a swig, uncrossing my leg as he smoothed out the material on my stockings, first the outside, and then the inside. That’s when things really became too much, his fingers purposefully ran over the exposed skin above my stockings now, dangerously close to my core. I feared he’d feel the wetness seeping through my underwear, I had no under gown on, and I think he could tell. With a second glance in his direction, his eyes met mine, and then my lips. Say something or this is never going to happen. “I’m going to look around.” I shyly smiled, the excuse coming off as more flirtatious and cheeky than I intended. I hoped he’d caught on, seeing as I snuck away from that table so so slowly, waiting for him to follow me. The bottle of wine came with me as I stumbled down the hall, desperate to find an empty room, far from the ears of Easy Company.

Finally, a separate room, barely attached to the building and looking over the opposite side of Germany. Privacy. I pushed open the door, thankful to see it was empty. With a glimpse behind me, I somewhat expected to see Ron, but he wasn’t there. My face fell flat as I leant against the door, drinking more of the wine before setting it down on the cabinet next to the door. A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I adjusted the skirt of my dress, rearranging my stockings as I traced over where he’d touched. My touch wasn’t as good as his, but it was better than nothing. Leaning against the door again, my fingers traced over the wetness of my underwear. I was so wet, it was uncomfortable, but I desperately ached for satisfaction. I aches for Captain Speirs. Slipping out my white underwear, I left them to one side as my shoes were also kicked off, my fingers running over my clit gently. A shaky exhale escaped my mouth, desperate for more as I pressed two fingers against myself. My head was dropped back and my eyes were closed as I began rubbing myself gently. Imagine it’s Captain Speirs, here on his knees for you with his mouth attached to your pussy. I then flashed my mind back to his hardened cock in his pants, imagining I’d reached over and touched him, gripping him through his pants. Fuck, the thought of him inside me was so good. My confidence was boosted from the alcohol, inhibitions lowered as I moaned out through my closed, pouted lips. Ron… Ron, my mind repeated. “Ron.” I panted out loud, whining to myself as I gained a quicker speed over my aching pussy. It hurt so bad how much I needed release, my whole body was warm, legs like jelly as I slumped slightly against the door.

What I didn’t expect was the pushing on the handle. My eyes widened as I stepped forwards, stunned when I realised I hadn’t locked the door. Fuck. It happened too quick, and before I knew it Captain Speirs was stood right there. He had a darkened look in his eyes, jaw tense and he eyed over me. My bottom lip was agape and I gripped the hem of my dress nervously. “Do you wanna show me what you were doing?” He then breathlessly spoke, voice low as he closed and locked the door, the first words we’d spoken to one another all evening. A closed mouth moan escaped me as his thumb and finger rested under my chin, staring into my eyes and shaking his head with a soft expression. “You don’t know what you do to me.” With a sharp inhale, he pushed himself forwards, lips pressing against mine as there was a quick stumble to regain our balance, his hand gripping over the back of my head, the other pulling on my waist. You don’t know what you do to me- his words replayed in my mind, smiling against the kiss as I placed one hand on the back of his head, the other on the firm bicep of his arm.

The kiss was rough, passionate, everything I fantasised about, soon I was panting against his lips, desperate for more from my Captain. “Show me what you were doing.” He borderline begged, voice breathless as one hand moved down to grip his own bulge. “Captain Speirs-“ I panted out, scanning over his eyes. “Please.” He muttered, the vulnerability and desperation in his voice egging me on to show him exactly what I was doing before. My hand slipped under my dress as he quickly shifted both his hands to hold my face, kissing me quickly before watching me pleasure myself under his hold. Fuck, this felt so intimate and raw. He was breathing harshly, fanning over my face as his eyes fixated on my hand, forehead resting against mine as he bent down slightly to reach my level. My head dropped back slightly, comfortable in his hold as I let out a soft moan. I watched as Ron’s eyes closed, stepping closer to me as the movement of my hand against myself brushed again and again against his hardened cock. Swaying from the alcohol, we fell back into the door and cupboard once again, Captain Speirs moving down to kiss me as my movement quickened against myself. “Sir.” I panted out. “Yeah, keep going.” He hushed against my mouth, licking over my lips seductively before he pushed it into my mouth. I moaned into the deepening kiss, louder now as one of his hands moved between us, onto his crotch and gripped himself desperately. Oh god, I never thought I’d be able to see my Captain like this and it was too good. Too fucking good. His hand held my head up, making direct eye contact with me as his brows furrowed, jaw falling the slightest bit slack as I moved up to kiss his plump lips. His hand now, swatted mine away from myself, taking over my movements as I almost cried out at the sensation of his rough fingers on my clit. “Oh my god.” I gripped him close for support, fingers tightening around the fabric of his shirt. His movements increased, spreading my wetness around my pussy as he groaned into the side of my ear almost desperately. “Feels so good.” I choked out, “yeah? Let me hear you.” He dirtily spoke, other hand moving down to clutch at my ass, whilst his finger moved down to push inside my tight hole. I hadn’t been touched by anybody in so long, not even myself, so I was a little rusty, but I was so wet that I didn’t think I would even notice. “Oh god.” I vocally whined out, mouth open as I closed my eyes, resting my head back on the wall behind me. Ron craned his neck, catching my lips, cheek and jaw once again with his mouth as I bathed in the attention he was giving me. I had to physically hold onto him for support, pulling him closer into me by the shirt as he kissed me deeper and deeper. Everything was so in the moment, I barely had time to think, all I knew was that I wanted this so bad and he was the same.

One handed, Ron was fumbling with the top buttons on my dress, impressively freeing me of my uniform as I slid it down off my body, leaving me in just my bra. That was the next thing to go, Captain Speirs pulled his finger out of me gently and held it up to my lips, pushing it between them as I sucked him clean, staring up to him with a dazed look. “So gorgeous.” He muttered, before trailing his finger over my lips, mesmerised by the sight of me. It was the first moment of somewhat calmness between the two of us, I felt butterflies emerge in my stomach, and I was left panting softly when he dragged his fingers over my shoulders, down past my neck and to unhook my bra. There I was, completely naked in front of my Captain, who I’d listened to orders from for years. I’d watched him from a distance, admired him, I’d been scared of him. Now I was stood completely vulnerable in front of him.

A nervous kind of smile grew on my face as I covered my chest with my arms. Whilst I had no doubt about my body or breast region, I felt a little shy, watching him reach over and take a swig of the bottle before lifting it up to my lips. His eyes roamed over me, the thick liquid passing my lips and down my throat before he attached his lips back onto mine again. For a moment, his hands remained on the smooth of my waist, running them over my bare skin as I sighed into the kiss, feeling him grope over the swell of my tits. Ron had moved down, wine stained lips licking and sucking over the sensitivity of my nipples as I gasped in pleasure. As he knelt down further, I felt as though my previous fantasy was coming to life, watching him kiss over my stomach and hip bones, over my pubic bone and finally over my aching core. I stumbled back again, this time into the cabinet, his lips attached to my clit as he licked and suckled, the wet noises turning me on further as a prolonged moan left my mouth. Finally. It was even better than I expected, the warmth of his mouth felt too good as my hands ran through his hair, fingers tugging on the end of the dishevelled mop. As his pace picked up, my moans did too. I was being extremely vocal, pushing him on as my head dropped back, back arching whilst my hand attempted to grip the cabinet behind me for support. In doing so, I knocked a few picture frames and belongings off in the process- but this didn’t stop either of us. The chaotic pleasure only spiralled me further towards my orgasm. “You gonna cum for me?” He hushed against my pussy, my mind swindling at his dirty talk. “Yeah.” I whined. “Yeah?” His voice vibrated against my as I felt the tension become tighter and tighter in my lower stomach. “Oh fuck.” I cursed out, choking out a cry as I balled my fist into his hair. “Keep going, keep going.” I begged, too caught up in the moment to realise how harsh my hold was. Captain Speirs literally moaned against my pussy, causing me to come crashing down into my orgasm as the coil in my stomach exploded. I was a jittering, moaning mess, the man below me still licking and slurping up my wetness as my hand quickly loosened on his hair. My breathing eased and moans lowered as I came over my orgasm, stunned that I had even got to that point. Smoothing my fingers over the area I was tugging, Ron jumped up, wiping the back of his mouth that was coated in my juices before he very swiftly hooked me in for another kiss.

My hands roamed all over him, hooking my fingers over his already undone shirt, I began pulling at the buttons as quickly as possible as Ron worked on unbuckling his belt. The sight and sound made me blush furiously, my used pussy already throbbing for a second orgasm. I’d pushed his shirt off him, exposing his toned chest and abdomen. Never had I ever been with a man so chiselled before, I didn’t know where to look, my hands ran over his stomach, all the way down to the snail trail that started just under his navel. I pushed on his pants, letting out a soft hum of amusement as I bit down on my lip, freeing his very large member from his pants and underpants. Fuck- he was big as well, just how I expected. I didn’t want to stare too much, I wanted to drop down on my knees desperately, but Ron had other plans. He’d hooked me up by the thighs, easily, as my legs wrapped around his waist, sinking deeper into the kiss whilst my fingers roamed down to his hardened cock. “Mmm, please.” I whispered, rubbing his tip against my pussy as he grunted against my mouth, bucking his hips up towards me. Carefully, I directed him into my entrance, opening my eyes as I looked directly back to him now. As he entered me, Ron’s mouth dropped in pleasure, before tensing as he swallowed, letting out a satisfied moan through his teeth. It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen or heard, he was the hottest thing I’d ever seen or heard. His hands gripped onto my ass and thighs for support, holding me upright as he began lifting me up and down on him slowly. Fuck, it felt so good, there was a slight burn from the stretch of my tightness, but Ron Speirs definitely knew how to get a girl ready for him. The sounds of heavy breathing and my wetness filled the room and I watched back into Ron’s eyes, feeling his fingers grip tighter into my flesh as he readjusted, holding me up now with one arm as he snatched the red wine with the other, carrying me towards the bed. He eased me down onto the plush bed, my legs lifting as I sighed, seductively turning to the side as he used one hand to turn my face back towards him. I smiled gently, running a hand over my core as his eyes trailed down, watching me then take hold of his cock, lubricated from my own wetness and his precum as I stroked over him. It didn’t even strike me that we weren’t using a condom until that moment, but my inhibitions were too slow to care. Watching his reaction, I became infatuated by the beauty of his face, only pausing when he tipped more red wine in my mouth, the last drops of the bottle spilling out over my cheeks as he dropped the now empty bottle onto the bed, wiping at my face quickly as I giggled, edging his cock back inside of me.

Hungrily, Ron kissed at my lips, licking the red wine from them before we began making out again, his thrusts becoming small yet fast, the perfect combination to pleasure me. His movements became more dominating, more rough as my nails dug into his back. The hornier I grew the more confidence I had. “Feels so good.” I whispered, kissing at the skin between his neck and shoulder. Ron groaned into my ear, digging his hips further into mine as I let out a pleasured yelp. “Fuck!” I flattened my palms on his back as his movements became animalistic. I couldn’t even think straight, let alone speak- god he was too good, he was fucking into me at a pace I don’t know how he kept up with. His strength was undeniable, and I wanted the sensation of him dominating me more.

“Oh god.” He grunted, slowing his pace before pushing himself up with both his hands so he could rest on his knees. I assumed he’d slowed the pace down in order not to cum so quick, which some how made everything ten times hotter. Exhaling out slowly, Ron’s hands ran over my chest and breasts, squeezing and admiring them. Slowly, I grazed my hand over his, pulling his hand up to my neck as he grazed over the sensitive area. I watched through my eyelashes as his hand wrapped gently around my neck, applying a firm amount of pressure as his hips drew back and thrusted back into me roughly. The sensation of his cock hitting my G-spot mixed with his hand around my neck had me moaning and writhing more than ever, rolling my hips against his own. “Keep doing that.” Ron grunted out, my hips bucking up against his as I maintained eye contact. “Please, please.” I wasn’t begging for anything in particular, I just needed him in more ways than I could process. “Fuck.” He cursed quietly, eyes closed briefly before snapping back open to watch over me again. Soon, he caught his rhythm again, snapping his hips into mine as I grasped hold of his hand around my neck, tightening his grasp.

“You’re so good aren’t you? You’re so good.” He grumbled, falling against my chest again, kissing me hungrily as his grip on my neck loosened, instead coming to wrap under my head and hold me close up to him. “Yes.” I choked out. “Yeah, who?” “Yes, sir.” I responded submissively, Ron kissed at my jaw, grunting with each thrust as he lifted my legs higher. I didn’t think it was possible to cum again, especially not after having a drink, but there was something about Ron Speirs that was overwhelmingly amazing. He knew exactly what he was doing, it was so amazing. I was breathless, limbs aching as Ron pushed himself up again. His dog tags were dangling down in front of my as my hands hooked around them, in complete awe at the pleasure he gave me. “Are you gonna cum for me?” I borderline flirted, almost teasing and tormenting as he panted out a quick moan, head dropping as he focused on chasing his please. “Yeah-“ his voice was strained as I hummed, my other hand resting just above his ass as he seemed to hold his breath, body tending and shaking as he thrusted into me for a few moments longer. Never had I seen a man so vocal, he was moaning, grunting and panting above me, it was a sight like no other. The red wine was still circulating around my body, my chest flushed and sending a red hot lust through my bloodstream. The only remedy for it was Ron Speirs. Quickly, Ron pulled out, jerking himself off with a second strained curse, spurts of his cum squirting onto my stomach, and over my chest as he released with a satisfied groan. His hand rested on my knee as he came down from his high, dropping besides me and pressing a kiss upon my cheek and lips tenderly.

Only after regaining our breaths and turning over to glance at him, did I realise what I had just done. I’d just had sex with Captain Speirs, fuck, he was in charge of Easy and if it got around that he or I had slept together it could cause such a greater issue. Part of me was freaked, the other have shrugged it off, seeing as he’d wrapped an arm over my chest comfortably.

With the help of the wine in my system, I’d managed to feel comfortable in his arms, attempting not to think about anything else in that moment except how good the sex was and how stupidly comfortable I was cuddling with him after… Oops.

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

Misc. Tag Game! ✨

thank you for the tags @ronald-speirs @panzershrike-pretz and @sharkboyandlavalieb !!!

Made by the amazing @ronald-speirs 💖

Favorite place in the world you’ve visited?

Hmmm I’m gonna have to go with when my mom, sister, and I all went to Las Vegas for my 21st birthday! It was so much fun and just an incredible experience 💕

Something you’re proud of yourself for?

Probably continuing my therapy journey! I’ve been in therapy continuously since I graduated in 2020 and I feel like I’ve made some good progress! I’m proud of myself for not giving up when things felt impassable

Favorite books?

Soooo i’m not too big on reading but something I will read over and over again is the fruits basket series!!!! That’s the only book series I’ve read in its entirety and I love every bit of it!!!

Something that makes your heart happy when thinking about it?

It’s not the dart scene at the start of replacements idk what you’re talking about

Favorite thing about your culture?

About being American? I guess just the fact that BoB is American 🤣

When did you join the HBO War fandom? What was the first show you watched?

Umm i think in April ‘23?? @dontirrigateme and I had just watched the x-men first class movies and wanted to watch more James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender, so of course we watched BoB… the world has never been the same

Have you read any of Easy Company’s books? If so, which ones were your favorite?

I’m trying to read Ambrose’s book right now, but I have Winters’ Beyond Band of Brothers, Guarnere and Babe’s book, and a couple others on my shelf!! (if anyone finds Webster’s shark book i promise you my first born for a copy of that)

Favorite HBO War character and your favorite moment with them?

Oh goodness there’re so many!!! Ummm well right now I’m going thru a Liebgott phase oml the man makes me FOAM AT THE MOUTH so I’m gonna go with when he tends to Talbert on the Night of the Bayonet, like Liebgott is known for his temper and fighting but here (and with Tipper) you can see he’s an absolute SWEETHEART AAAA I WOULD DIE FOR JOSEPH DAVID LIEBGOTT

Do you make content for any fandoms, if so; what sort of content?

I’ve just recently started writing for BoB!! I also have some Pokemon x BoB collages that I’ve made 🥰

Favorite actor/actress and your favorite film of theirs?

Johnny Depp hands down, and absolutely pirates of the caribbean, it’s just all-around lovely and whimsical and amazing (fun fact till like middle school i had no idea what Johnny Depp actually looked like because my only references for him were Captain Jack Sparrow and Willy Wonka and they just did not look the same to me 🤣)

Favorite quote/s that you wish to share with others?

I think I’ve said this before, but it’s a quote from my blorbo Vincent Van Gogh, “I feel that there is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”

Random fact your mutuals/followers don’t know about you?

My dad’s retired Navy, so I grew up moving around until he retired when I was about 8!

If you’re a writer, do you need a beta reader (say yes so I can be your beta reader 🤭)?

ASDFDL I WOULDN'T MIND HAVING A BETA READER

Three things that make you smile? (I’m watching BoB rn so this is about to be BoB momes)

“CURRAHEEEEEEE!”

“We salute the rank not the man”

“I’m John Wayne! The costume department set me up with these nice navy whites, what do ya think!?”

Any nicknames you like?

Honestly I just feel warm and fuzzy when given any nickname, I’ve been called Em, Emmy, Ems, my favorite might be “Yellow,” I’ve had three separate best friends give me this nickname just cuz they associate me with the color yellow and sunshine vibes ✨

List some people you love to see around on tumblr!

ASDJ:LKF THERE ARE SO MANY @dontirrigateme @panzershrike-pretz @ithinkabouttzu @executethyself35 @ronsparky @love--persevering @ronald-speirs @sweetxvanixlla @whollyjoly @xxluckystrike @venus-haze @thicccqueyoongimin @joetoyesbrassknuckles101 @neptunes-blue @ewipandora @hanniewinnix @sharkboyandlavalieb @footprintsinthesxnd @mutantmanifesto @jump-wings @malarkgirlypop @mads-nixon @blueberry-ovaries @coco-bean-1218 @b00ks1ut AND SO SO MANY MORE I'M SORRY IF I DIDNT TAG YOU I PROMISE I LOVE YOU

What would you do during a zombie apocalypse?

Cry and die probably

Favorite movie?

Bohemian Rhapsody, the Mummy, and Pirates of the Carribean, and the Blair Witch Project!

Do you like horror movies? YES!! Especially found footage movies!!

No pressure tags!! @dontirrigateme , @ithinkabouttzu , @executethyself35 , @neptunes-blue , @thicccqueyoongimin , @love--persevering , @jump-wings , @blueberry-ovaries and anyone else who wants to do this!!! 💖

[multifandomlover01]

prompt "ok it was me...so?" with the infamous Ron Speirs please!

Of course! Thank you for the ask! We love us some Speirs. ;)

I didn’t know which direction to take this…thought about angst…maybe??? But then I already had an idea that involved Speirs that this prompt could fit into…so we’re going with fluff!

Ronald Speirs x F!Reader

Key: Y/R = Your Rank (since I didn’t really want to assign one, so you can pick yours, like Private, Corporal, Sargent, or Lieutenant), Y/L/N = Your Last Name

Word Count: ~1.2k (lol)

Warning: whole premise may be seen as a bit inappropriate (male CO gives female under his command dresses), and it’s a bit suggestive at the end

As the war seemed to settle down once you got into Germany and Hitler’s Eagle’s Nest, you all started to relax a little bit. No one was shooting at you. Nothing was exploding. No one was dying (at least not as much).

The place you resided was quite nice, as was everything here, you supposed. Europe was such a different place than America, you had noticed. Especially when it came to architecture and houses. But you supposed that was because Europe (and Germany, in particular) was a lot older than the modern America that you had lived in. They had time to mature their tastes. They had different tastes. The previous residents also had no boundaries, seemingly, when it came to luxury.

But, yes, it was a very peaceful and relaxing time the company had after what seemed like such a long time being on edge in combat. There was finally this sense of security. This sense of safety. There didn’t seem to be anything that would surprise you anymore.

That was until you walked into your room and found a huge pile of dresses on your bed (lol, transitions who?). You were befuddled. Why were these dresses here? Who had put them there? Where had they even come from? After you asked yourself that question, you realized they came from the wives of the Nazis that had lived in the Eagle’s Nest. You contemplated going directly to Speirs or Winters and reporting it. But then you figured that since the dresses were here, you might as well look at them…and if you were looking at them you might as well try a few of them on (or all of them). You counted them. 75. There were 75 dresses. It didn’t seem like there were that many when you had first looked at them.

They were really nice dresses. You liked a lot of them. As you looked at them and tried them on, you started piles. One pile was ones you’d like to keep. Another was ones you wouldn’t. And the last was ones you weren’t sure about. You ended up liking a majority of the dresses, actually.

Now that you had looked at them, tried them on, and decided which ones you wanted to keep, you finally decided to report the mysterious dresses.

So you sought out Winters and/or Speirs. You found both at Battalion CP. Since you didn’t frequent Battalion CP often, your presence was immediately noticed.

“Yes, Y/R, can we help you?” Major Winters asked as you approached.

“I, uh, I’d like to report something.”

“What is it?” He cocked his head and asked curiously.

“Well…you see…the thing is…it’s quite strange…and I don’t exactly know how to say this.”

“What’s wrong?” He was concerned now.

“Nothing’s wrong really.”

“Then what is it, Y/R?” He was becoming a little frustrated now.

“Someone left 75 dresses in my room.”

“What?” He was utterly confused and caught off guard.

“There are 75 dresses in my room. I didn’t put them there. Someone else must have.”

“I suppose. Do you have any idea who?”

“No. I don’t. I’m a bit confused by the whole thing. So I decided to report it.”

“Well you did the right thing.”

“Did you try any of them on?” Speirs asked. This was the first time he had spoken since you had arrived.

“Sir?”

“Did you try any of the dresses on, Y/R?”

This was weird, you thought. Why was he asking you that? Why did he care-oh! Oh. Ok.

“Yes, sir. I did.”

“Did you like them?”

“I don’t see how this is relevant…” Winters seemed very confused.

“I’m simply curious. You found dresses in your room that you yourself did not put there and you didn’t immediately decide to report it?”

“I figured since they were already there, I might as well look at them and since I was already looking at them, I might as well try them on.”

“And did you like them?”

“Most of them, yes.”

Winters seemed to finally catch on.

“Captain Speirs, since Y/R Y/L/N is in Easy Company, I relinquish control of this situation to you.”

Speirs nodded at Winters before turning back to you. Winters left, shaking his head and smiling.

“So are you going to keep the dresses or do I need to take them?” He almost said back, but stopped himself.

“I think I’ll keep most of them, sir. There are a few I will not be keeping. And others I’m not quite sure of yet.”

“Good. I’d be happy to take the ones you don’t want off your hands.”

“I appreciate it, sir.”

He nodded. Was the conversation done? Did he forget he hadn’t indicated that he hadn’t put them there? And had he forgotten that he hadn’t indicated he’d find who had put them there?

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Did you put those dresses in my room?”

“No. I did not. But I assure you I will find who did.”

“Sir, if you did not put the dresses there, why were you so interested in me and them?”

“I was simply curious, Y/R.”

“Sir.”

“Yes?”

“Did you put those dresses in my room? Because it kind of seems like you did.”

“Ok. It was me. So?”

“But why, sir?”

“Why not?”

“Well, quite frankly, sir...it seems weird and kind of inappropriate.”

“How so?”

“You’re my CO, sir.”

“A CO can’t gift something to someone in his company to show his appreciation for them?”

“Not when you’re my CO and I’m the only woman in the company and it’s 75 dresses, sir, no.”

“You tried them on. And decided to keep most of them. No one made you do that. You could’ve just thrown them away. Or reported it.”

“Well...they were nice dresses, sir.”

“They were, weren’t they? I thought you’d like them.”

“Where did you find them, sir?”

“In the various houses around here. In the closets. There were tons and tons of them. Which I guess is no big surprise. I picked out the ones I thought seemed nice and that you might like.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Why did you really give me those dresses?”

“Because you deserve it, Y/R. You’ve been through a lot.”

“Well, I think we all have, sir.”

“Well, yes, but you especially have. I remember hearing about some of your hardships at Toccoa, and I’ve heard even more about them now from original members of the company. And I know because you’re a woman, everything is a little bit harder for you: training, combat.”

“Well, it wasn’t necessary, but it really is appreciated, sir.”

“You’re quite welcome, Y/R. Would you like help taking care of the dresses you don’t want to keep and deciding which ones to keep that you’re not already sure about?”

“Sir?” I couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not.

“...” He wasn’t.

“Um...sure...I have had a pretty hard time deciding on the ones I wasn’t sure about and would appreciate a second opinion.”

“Well, let’s go, then.” You both smirked at each other before heading back to your residence.

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

Lol

This was bad.

Sorry I subjected you to this.

[infinitegalahad]

INFINITEGALAHD’S MASTERLIST

Edit: Everything I write in chronological order.

REQUESTS/PROMPTS: Prompts/Requests are CLOSED for an indefinite amount of time! I will still be writing the ones I have in my drafts at the moment.

LAST UPDATED: July 12th, 2021

KEYS: Fluff- 💘, Suggestive- ‼️, Angst-☔️,Carrie’s Favs-💌 Sad Ending-🌧 Happy Ending-☀️ Ambiguous-🤐 Dark-🩸Requested-💡Headcanons-🗓

PLEASE READ RULES/GUIDELINES BEFORE REQUESTING!!!

Here is my Taglist!

Main Blog | Ao3 

BAND OF BROTHERS

I’LL MAKE A MAN OUT OF YOU (Eugene Roe x F! Reader)-💌 (SERIES STATUS: ON HOLD) To save your ailing brother from the war, you disguise yourself as a man to fight in the war. There you met Eugene Roe, a Cajun medic. The two of you grow close to each other, but at what cost? A story of bravery, the harshness of war, bravery, friendship, and love. Ch.1, Ch.2 

JOYQUEX NOËL À TOI MON ANGE (Eugene Roe x GN! Reader) -It’s Christmas in Bastogne and you make Eugene’s world feel normal for a moment. 

WIFE (Dick Winters X F!Reader)- ☔️💌 You and Dick, after years of indefinite separation and depression, have finally reunited. Dick can’t wait to start a family with you. You love Dick, but you soon realize that you cannot bear him a son, a daughter, or a child.

THE WORST GIRL IN THE WORLD (WHO SAVED ME) (Joe Liebgott x F!reader)- 💘 💌 You hated Liebgott and he hated you. It was supposed to be simple-the feeling was mutual. You hated his childish nicknames, the blatant misogyny he threw in your face, and his attractive jawline. Everything about Joe Liebgott made you furious. But little did you know that Joe had much more in common than you originally thought.

HOW TO SAY I LOVE YOU (WITHOUT SAYING I LOVE YOU) (Shifty Powers x F!Reader)- 💘Everybody in Easy Company can see that Shifty is like a love-sick puppy with a cute truck driver. He loves her, but he's too shy to confess. Popeye, his best friend, can no longer stand to see it. Floyd Talbert is the man of the hour and knows how to get Shifty, who can barely say I l you", to say those three words without actually saying the words. The way to solve this pining? A classic carnival date.

SHE WILL BE LOVED (Floyd Talbert x F!Reader)-💘☔️‼️💌Floyd drove for miles and miles, and still wound up at the same door. Every. Single. Time.

TYRANT FOR A WAR PIG-(Ronald Speirs x F!Reader) ☔️‼️💡When Speirs had made a promise to you he'd do anything for you; he not only meant it, but proved it-with blood on his hands. Prompt: "Killing for you is my favorite hobby."

A LITTLE PIECE OF HOME- (Shifty Powers X F!Reader) 💘 💡Before your childhood friends Shifty and Popeye are shipped out, Popeye brings his new camera and decides to make some last minute memories.

DON'T LET THE SUN GO DOWN ON ME- (Joe Toye X F!Reader)☔️ 💘 The one time Joe Toye saved you and the one time you saved Joe Toye.

LIKE REAL PEOPLE DO-(Eugene Roe x F!Reader)-☔️💘💌- Eugene was always there to let you that you were beautiful.

MOONLIGHT SERENADE (Eugene Roe x F!Reader)- 💘 You and Eugene are madly in love with each other but there’s one problem; the two of you don’t even realize it. Babe and Renee step in.

SO IST ES IMMER- (Donald Malarkey x F!Reader)-💘 ☀️💡 Malarkey and you drink and sing when the fighting is done, and it’s always so.

WASHING MACHINE HEART-(Lewis Nixon x GN!Reader)-☔️☀️💌💡- Nothing ever lasts forever, everybody wants to rule the world. You are pretty much the only person who could change the way Lewis operates, and that's exactly what you do-change him.

SICK CALL (Johnny Martin x GN!Reader)-💘☀️💡- You get an unexpected visitor one night who helps distract you from your sickness.

THE PACIFIC 

(coming soon!)

GENERATION KILL

ROSY RED SKIES (AND CHEEKS) (Brad Colbert x F! Reader) 💘💡Brad acts differently around you, and you begin to notice his little quirks and tease him about him.

RAY IN THE BATHROOM-(Ray Person x F!Reader)☔️💘💌💡- Ray is hiding in a bathroom and has a panic attack over the fact that his only real friend and the love of his life has (supposedly) left him for Brad.

COMFORTING THERE PARTNER (Gen Kill Boys x GN! Reader) 💘 💌 💡 🗓

BORHAP/QUEEN

(coming soon!)

KINGSMAN

(coming soon!)

JAMES BOND

(coming soon!)

MISCELLANEOUS

BLACK LOCUSTS AND RED VIXENS(Yelena Believe x GN!Reader)💘💌-The room felt like it was getting hotter. And you couldn’t tell if it was the Barcelona heat, or Yelena sitting ontop of your chest.

[inglourious-imagines]

Overprotective Captain (Ronald Speirs x Male!Reader)

Requested by: @jussipogideonlaufeyson

Summary: You get shot in the arm while taking over German guns. Let's just say, Speirs is a bit overprotective.

Author's Note: This is my first time writing for a male reader so tell me please how I did. Hope you enjoy, let me know if you wanna be tagged in these.

Taglist: @alienoresimagines @teenmagazines @meteora-fc @eugenesmorphine @band-of-brothers-cz @real-fans @not-john-watsons-blog @tealaquinn @ok-roemanov @mrseasycompany @punkgeekchic @wexhappyxfew @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @rayofshanshine @mavysnavy @easynix @stressedinadress @georgeluzwarmhugs @easy-company-tradition @immrsronaldspeirs @snafus-peckuh @curraheewestandalone @warrior-healer @justamadgirlinabox  

.

.

.

"With such a hell in your heart and your head, how can you live? How can you love?" - F. Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

Normandy, 1944

Y/N thought it would never happen to him.

Then it changed into 'it will happen to me'. 

But what he didn't expect was for it to happen so quickly. 

•••

The order was clear - take over the German guns near Brecourt Manor so their fellow Marines can be relieved from the slaughter at Utah Beach.

Y/N trusted his leader Winters completely, he'd follow him everywhere, to hell even. But there was this unpleasant feeling in his chest that he had to look out for a certain D Company leader every other minute to make sure he's safe and sound. Luz along with Joe noticed his nervous behaviour and teased him for it so he was now a blushing mess with a M1 in his hands.

Easy Company was about to move out to their mission when he caught a glimpse of the ruggedly handsome and brave soldier. Ronald Speirs was in all his glory nonchalantly smoking his Lucky Strike while his rifle was resting on his arm. He looked so calm and serene that it almost seemed impossible to Y/N to be in such a state in the war, for his hands were trembling like some old man's.

Of course, Y/N was afraid of combat, of shells, of bullets but what made his heart beat faster and his mind twist was the possibility of Speirs getting hurt. His soul wasn't able to reconcile with this dangerous thought that didn't want to leave him and seemed to occupy his head for a long time.

For a moment, their eyes met. Ron gave him a firm nod. Y/N sent him a reassuring smile. Without words, they expressed their undying love, comprehension and support in just one look.

The butt of Speirs' cigarette fell on the ground as the soldier stepped on it. Y/N fought an immense urge to run to his Airborne officer and hold him dearly and tightly in his arms. Instead, he turned away from him without any other glance.

Because if Y/N looked at Ron any longer, he wouldn't be able to let him go.

•••

The unspeakable pain pulsed through his left arm, from his cold fingers to his shoulder, as he groaned in agony. Y/N knew Doc isn't around any near and there wasn't definitely time for bandaging the wound. He somehow managed to climbed out of the trench and crawl over to the rear. 

When Y/N finally found Winters shouting some orders, he didn't even get to speak.

"Get your ass over to the aid station, Y/N!" Ronald Speirs' voice was firm although the nervousness, a fear almost, was audible for every soldier that was near them. The officer didn't even call him by his rank and last name or 'trooper' as he often enjoyed and that raised a lot of question marks in the eyes of their fellow paratroopers.

But Speirs didn't seem to care about all that. His eyes were fixated on Y/N's and his blood as he made a few steps toward his other half.

Ronald Speirs knew it wasn't a fatal wound, actually it was far from it, but he was terrified to death. He hadn't endured such emotion before, this was completely new to him - his heart pounding in his ears, his hands trembling while holding his dear M1 and his mind imaginating the worst scenarios.

"Just relax. It's not that bad, Ron. Doc will patch me up later." Y/N tried to reassure him and show him how unnecessary this fuss is. 

But none of that mattered to the officer. "Stop being a fucking hero. I can't have you bleeding out here."

Y/N, as inappropriate as it sounds, blushed a little at his comment - this man right in front of him, the mysterious and dangerous officer of Dog Company was completely, from head to toe, in love with him, Y/N Y/L/N. 

"I'm needed here and I shall stay here." Y/N stood behind his words as it hurt him to say them to his soulmate. 

"I've lost many good men during this day. I can't afford losing my love too!" Speirs almost shouted as he was looking directly in Y/N's eyes. At this time, even though the last bits of the assault were happening, soldiers were glancing from Ron to Y/N trying to comprehend the whole situation.

The secret was out. After two long years of hiding, short glances and light touches, the world finally heard about the forbidden love the two young souls were treasuring in their hearts.

"Don't want to interrupt," Dick Winters' voice broke the tension, "but your boyfriend here is right. Get back to the aid station, private Y/L/N. The wound is not deep but we don't want to have it infected now, right?" 

Ron gave him his 'I told you so' look but a slight smirk was shining on his face. To him, it felt like a huge burden was finally taken off his heart.

"Yes sir." Y/N replied to Winters' question but his eyes were still fixated on the Dog Company officer. 

"Good," Dick nodded in satisfaction, "we'll talk about this whole thing going on between you two later."

"Yes sir."

"Oh and Y/N? Congratulation."

And their hearts exploded with happiness and love that painted the sky in all the colours the world has to offer.

[iceman-kazansky]

Hello iceman-kazansky. Can i request some headcanons (or reactions i don't know which one is true) with eugene roe and ronald speirs? Their fiancee wants to break up after war because she wants to forget everything and thinks that she will experience the same traumas again everytime when she looks in her fiancee's eyes. It's up to you whether the ending will be happy or not. It's not a problem if you are not comfortable with writing this. I really like your blog and i don't mind if you decide not to write 🤎 <your malarkey fic was 🤌🤌🤌 btw>

Pairings: Ronald Speirs x f!reader, Eugene Roe x f!reader

Requested by: Lovely anon who happened to make my week (possibly month) with their kind words

Summary: Ronald Speirs and Eugene Roe headcanons to how they would react to their significant other wanting to break up after the war due to trauma

Warnings: Fluff? Angst? Idek but I hope those who read enjoy

A/n: I’M SO  SORRY THIS WASN’T DONE SOONER ANON 😭I wanted it done a lot sooner but sadly some things happened. I’m also sorry that these are super short, I so wish I could’ve made them a lot larger and had more points. I hope you enjoy Anon, for these are my first ever attempt at headcanons 

----

Eugene Roe

-First off my baby boy 🥺

-he would be so, so, so sad but understanding at first, he'd just be like "Okay, if that's really what you want ☹️" 

-although, once you explained it to him that he was a reminder of the trauma and horrors of war, he would be reassuring and comforting af

-He'd talk to you about how you and him would get through the unexplainable and horrific things you'd seen in that long multiple-year span together 

-"I'm here to talk and be with you, through thick and thin; no matter what; I love you. Please know that I'll continue loving you until the day I die."

-He wouldn’t admit it but the things he’d seen, the things he’d done scarred him and stuck with him long after the war and he was desperately in need of someone to talk to so him being able to just comfort you was also helping him get through the trauma of war

-Would definitely offer therapy or a person you could tell your deepest, hardest memories and your shoulder to cry on when you reminisced about your friends' deaths

-If he did persuade you to stay, he'd try comforting you a lot more and taking note of everything that could upset you

-When he does notice you upset over things, he goes out of his way to take care of you, such as buying flowers, chocolates, and anything he could

---

Speirs:

 -"Of course not! But you remind me every time I look at you; I can see the horrors written in your eyes Ron. Every time I look at you I can see Hoobler or... or.. Jackson's scared gaze.. That boy- he died in my arms that night in Haganeau and I-"

-When you tell him he'd go quiet and just stare at you in numb shock

-after you finished he'd ask "Is this what you really want?"

-IMMEDIATELY would be so soft with you

-"Oh, Honey" 

-He’d hold you in his arms all soft but at the same time firm and steady, he’d also try to talk to you, especially if you started crying, and would be the type to whisper sweet nothings into your ear while you dealt with the distressing memories

-I headcanon he is a real war-hardened veteran on the outside but once you get to know him he’s so kind and caring and an overall very nice person to be around

-When you were finished and you (probably?) realized it wasn’t a good idea to break up with the one thing you knew to be your solace in the rocky world you were only now adapting back into after the horrors of war. Speirs was your soon-to-be husband; your rock in a hard place; a sturdy tree to stand under in a thunderstorm. Speirs was your world and how you’d failed to notice that was nearly catastrophic

-like minutes after, when you’d come to your senses, you’d apologize profusely for even bringing up the idea, but Speirs wouldn’t care; he’d kiss you and hold you and reassure you he was going to stick with you until the very end of time

[iceman-kazansky]

Band of Brothers Masterlist

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Disclaimer:

These are written for the FICTIONAL PORTRAYALS of the show Band of Brothers, absolutely no disrespect to the irl veterans whatsoever.

Dick Winters

Chilly Autumn Evenings

Lewis Nixon

Carwood Lipton

From the Start

Ronald Spiers

Eugene Roe

Joseph Liebgott

George Luz

David Webster

A Reunion Not Thought Possible

Johnny Martin

Donald Malarkey

4 times Donald Malarkey wanted to kiss you, 1 time he did

Headcannons

Eugene Roe + Ronald Speirs, Reacting to Fiancée Reader wanting to break it off due to the horrors of war

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

HBOwarsanta23:

Two Halves of a Heart, Beating as One– Ronald Speirs x f!reader