#snafu shelton imagine

[imaginesbymk]

❝ WHAT DO WE DO NOW? ❞

The Pacific One Shot

PAIRING — SNAFU SHELTON x NURSE!FEM!READER.

SYNOPSIS / The war's over, and Snafu is taking the edge off with Eugene and Burgin on the high rocks. It doesn't last very long when he notices that you’re having a victory party of your own . . . 

TAGS: mentions of war, mentions of bullying, drinking, smoking, swearing + snafu being snafu

PROMPTS: ❝ can I kiss you? ❞ / ❝ will you stay with me? ❞

WORD COUNT: 1,991

A/N: this story is a bit different than the usual marine x nurse!reader trope. usually the nurse!reader is deemed perfect or is a childhood crush from the town they’re from who reunites with their lover after the war, but i wanted to make them like the outcast who finds some sort of comfort in the bad boy vibe from snafu who holds a soft spot for her in the end. this gift is for @latibvles​ from your secret santa <3 i’m late but merry xmas!!!! and thank u for allowing me to participate in secret santa @hbowardaily​​ —enjoy :))

THE DAY the Japanese surrendered, you had just finished patching up a Marine who suffered several cuts to his lower calf. For years you adjusted to the blood-curdling screams and moans from Marine after Marine, tending to them as they begged you a bunch of nonsense — that nonsense would have worsened their wounds and injuries. But that was your job in the Pacific theatre.

The screams and cries were now chants and balls of laughter, something you haven’t heard in a very long time. Maybe you have heard them here and there from the tents and hospitals— small talks whenever you passed by the cots, they were short-lived. Either they died the next day or their souls died acknowledging this war that felt like an eternity, the laughing would just be dead silence.

It was nice to hear a bunch of men and young boys have a victory party out at base camp.

Although, you left them be. You didn't like the idea of intruding, and drunk men gawking at you. You stayed back to clean up. A couple of nurses were enjoying their own victory parties, clinking glass bottles of coke and wine. You were clinking bottles of medicine back into the shelves.

Outside, Snafu, Burgin and Eugene isolated themselves from the Marines. Watching them party from below was a view, but looking up at the night sky was a movie.

"You see that? Line of stars angling up?" Snafu points up at the dark sky.

"Yep," Burgin answers with an unlit cigarette in his mouth.

"That's Snafu's peckuh." He listened to the conversation with Eugene and Lieutenant Mac.

One question stuck with him that Mac asked out theoretically. "What do we do now?" Snafu scoffs. "What an idiot."

He was in a small daze. Burgin hands the bottle of alcohol to Snafu.

What could he do? Clean up the mess on the islands, organize everything and take roll call, finish all his duties, clean himself up with a fresh uniform and a plane and train back to Louisiana. There was just one thing he gotta do first once he took his first sip of alcohol.

"I gotta take a piss." He climbs down the rocks, reminding him that he didn't need to keep his head down and adjust his helmet like from the times he instinctively ducks down to avoid being seen by the Japanese. He lands on the gravel and walks over to the side.

Meanwhile, he wished there were women joining in on the fun. But like Eugene would eventually tell his brother back in Mobile, they were off limits. But it’s not like Snafu is obedient every now and then. 

And with that, he watched you from afar. While everyone else was doing God knows what, he wondered where the rest of the infirmary staff were while you were left to handle the manual labor all by yourself. Maybe he didn’t need to pee off in the corner after all. And so he followed you as you went back inside your tent. 

He just watched you at the foot of it, the small breeze from the night moving the curtain a bit so he could see a better view of your uniform. And of course, he was staring at certain places.

You were beautiful, he thought. But he could say that about every other nurse here. 

His look-see didn’t last very long. You turned around when you felt another presence just as you were carrying the twentieth box of inventory into one of the crates. 

“JESUS!” You screamed, dropping the box of medical supplies and crashing on the ground. 

“Terribly sorry for startling you,” but the young man’s grin never faded. He allowed himself in the tent. 

“That’s close enough, Marine.” You made him halt in his tracks. For one thing, he could be drunk out of his mind, looking to sink his claws into someone for pleasure. What was separating him from your safety was the spill that he could foolishly slip and injure him in. And that would be another job to do. Speaking of, you looked down at the shattered glass pieces and substances scattered on the ground. At least it wasn’t too toxic for exposure. “Great.”

“Like I said, I apologize for the disturbance,” the man said.

“Disturbance is an understatement. You can say you scared the shit out of me.” You bent down and carefully gathered the glass shards, ironically touching them with your bare hands when you know you should be getting a broom and dustpan for that... and perhaps some safety gloves and a separate bin to dispose glass.

Snafu raised his brows. “I wouldn’t touch that, ma’am. I’d get a—”

“Yeah, I know.” You stopped doing what you were doing.

The smell of rubbing alcohol nearly filled the air, and there was an unopened pack of sulfur powder. The last time he saw someone use sulfer powder on an infected wound was the First Lieutenant. “That’s the thing, ma’am. I see you packed up all the cleaning supplies. Digging through the dozens of them would be beating the dead horse.”

“I can’t just leave spilt rubbing alcohol on the ground. It’s a safety hazard. I can’t get in trouble again.”

Again? Oh yeah. Snafu watched you kneel on the ground, carelessly getting your sheer tights stained with dirt. He found himself studying you again. In ways he was checking you out previously, but also recognizing the same features he saw when he visited the infirmary tents to see if there were any bandaids left for Burgin’s cuts on his fingers. That day, you were scolded by another nurse for something and the rest of them stared at you like a bug that needed to be squashed. Not only were the nurses staring at you, but so were the Marines who were being treated. Snafu was present to see all of that while he was patiently waiting at the curtains. It intrigued him. Normally he would chuckle to himself over how clumsy someone can be, but a part of him felt that pity. If this was him back in Louisiana, he’d be feeling just as small.

When you made eye contact with him, you said nothing— he was just every other Marine seeking assistance, so you handed over a pack of bandaids. You kept your head down, refusing to let him notice that you were on the verge of tears. He thought nothing of it, and moved along.

“Hang on, doll. I’ve seen you before,” he nods down at you. “You’re like the doormat.”

You scoff at that. “Not an understatement.” And he wasn’t wrong, either. You weren’t exactly the unlikeable one in the bunch, but these nurses weren’t planning on sticking around to become best friends with you for life during and after the war. Meanwhile, the majority of the men looked at you differently, either like eye-candy or a nurse who needed more training. You couldn’t hold small talk with anyone you worked with. Not a single nurse gave off a friendly vibe, and it reminded you of those snobby kids in high school. It shouldn’t affect you when you had a serious job and the cause was likely due to the physical and mental exhaustion from the war, but still... it stung. 

Snafu grins, the alcohol wasn’t even speaking for him. He only took one sip out of the bottle Mac gave them, anyway. He was just like that. “Can I kiss you?”

“Absolutely not.” Your face beamed red.

“Why? You kissed that Marine from Love Company.”

“You’re very likely mistaking me for another nurse, then. I don’t kiss Marines. I nurse them back to health when they get shrapnel in their eyes.”

“Then how about I find you back home and then I can kiss you?”

“No. God," you huff. "You'd do anything to win a girl's heart. You just suck at it. You're the type to run through Makin Island to get to the likes of blondes."

“Not exactly,” he corrects you. “And war’s over, ma’am.”

“I can’t believe you just asked me that out of the blue,” you shook your head in disbelief. But were you even surprised? “You don’t even know my name.”

“I’m Merriell Shelton,” he extends a hand. 

You knew how you wanted a formal introduction to go between you and a man. You expect the man to be polite, and it all started by shaking his hand. But this was Merriell, as you come to learn his name— in which you assume he is given a different nickname by the Marines fighting out there. You heard that the Marines nicknamed First Lieutenant Eddie Jones ‘Hillbilly’, and then-Captain Andrew Haldane ‘Ack-Ack’. For Merriell, it could be something you imagine to be vulgar.  

You stare down at his hand, not reaching yours out to shake it. “Well, Merriell Shelton. I will not kiss you. You should go.”

"So what did you do before all this, Miss?" Snafu dodges your order. 

You roll your eyes and stared at the tiny bottles of ibuprofen tossed in the box, wishing you were back home, doing what you did before all of this. "Just like any other young adult. Helped around the house, tried to get pass through potential colleges. Never thought I'd end up on the other side of the world."

"You're telling me." Snafu nearly spat on the ground. If he had done it, you'd be clearly annoyed and disgusted. You knew these men had gone through so much that even their manners and behaviour were picked up by the conditions on the islands. Even if he had spat, war or no war, you would choose to not say anything.

You and Snafu could hear the loud shouts and laughter outside acquainted with music. Eugene and Burgin must be wondering where Merriell—Snafu– wandered off to now after urinating on the ground somewhere. 

“So... what do we now?” He asks, repeating Mac’s words. 

No one was an idiot in this moment for even asking that. What could the two of you do right now?

“Well, Merriell Shelton, because you just gave me another job, what I am gonna do is sit here and wait for a nurse to come stumbling in to help me clean up.”

“There’s no way they would come and help you. For one thing, they would be too drunk to even carry a broom. They would make you do it yourself. If anything, I can help.”

“After scaring me like that and asking for a kiss? You should be on your way drinking with your friends out there, no?”

“I find this encounter much more entertaining.”

“Why? There are nurses out there to drink and laugh with.”

“I remember faces, ma’am. Some of them weren’t that friendly to you that one time.”

“How do you know that?”

He shrugs. “I remember faces.” 

You got up and sat on one of the chairs. “Well, I’m done working for them and with them. Therefore, I’m not unloading the cargo for a dustpan and broom.”

“Then I suggest you leave the mess here for them to clean up, and make sure there’s no wet floor sign so they can slip on their mistake. Make it seem they were too stupid to realize they dropped a few things in here. They dun’ need to know the truth.” You look up at him. He was smirking. 

“They’ll say something. Will you stay with me?” you ask. “Just don’t try and kiss me. I will hit you so hard in the face, Marine.”

Snafu smiles. “You don’t have to stay in here and wait for it all to unfold.” He extends his hand out once more. “We’re staying by the rocks away from everyone else. I’ll introduce you to Sledgehammer. Maybe I’ll finally get you to tell me your name, by then.”

You smiled back and took his hand. Perhaps one friend is better than many.

END.

[imaginesbymk]

IMAGINE — SNAFU MAKING FUN OF YOUR CRUSH ON ACK-ACK.

REQUESTED BY ANON

SLOWLY but surely, Snafu creeps up behind you as you stare off into space, dissociating from the battle environment you forgot you were in for a moment. “Thinkin’ about the skipper, huh, boot?”

Your cheeks turned hot. “Give it a rest, you dick!” you sneer.

“God, help me.” His grin made you want to slap it off his face. “The day Ack-Ack reciprocates feelings for a replacement is the day he goes blind.” 

He was right, though. Out of all people, you were hiding your feelings for King Company Skipper. You didn’t even need to admit to Snafu about it. He was observant and he knew right away just by watching your behaviour around Captain Haldane, the way you blushed when he looked your way, and were so attentive and loyal. Snafu loved picking on the newbies - what better way to do that than to make fun of a silly playground crush?

[antigonenikk]

biblically accurate pacific (2010) characters

[mads-nixon]

See the Good

Eugene Sledge x Medic!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Merry Christmas @iceman-kazansky!! I literally squealed when I saw I got you as my giftee! I loved your prompts, and I hope you like what I did with them!! I'm going to post one gift per day so that they'll be a little spaced out! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of k company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Prompt: “You always see the good in people. Even me.”

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: When Gene can only see himself as the terrible things he's done in the war, (y/n) is right there to remind him who he really is.

Warnings: descriptions of dead bodies (non-graphic)

OKINAWA, JAPAN: MAY, 1945:

The ground beneath their boots trembled, and the deafening whistles of mortars filled the air as (y/n) and the rest of K Company ran for cover. They sunk into the muddy sludge below them, turning each step into a battle against the sucking earth. Gripping her corpsman pack with white knuckles, (y/n) followed Gene, not daring to stop in the barrage.

“They have us targeted!” Burgie yelled, hurdling over a giant boulder in his path. “Get to cover!”

Just as (y/n) ran past the remnants of a demolished shed, a sudden blast threw her violently to the ground, sending a cascade of mud in all directions. Her ears rang with disorientation as she blinked slowly, struggling to regain her senses. The ringing faded into a muffled whine and a face appeared in (y/n)‘s vision. Although the figure’s face was blurred, she knew it was Eugene. His mouth moved rapidly, but she couldn’t understand a word he said. Realizing this, he quickly grasped the front of her uniform and hoisted her to her feet, throwing an arm around her waist to keep her upright as they bolted for cover.

Reaching the rocks, (y/n)‘s hearing slowly faded back, and the sounds of booming artillery reached her ears.

Sledge pulled on her arm, helping her over the rugged terrain. “Come on. We’re almost there!”

Finally reaching the safety of cover, the company continued farther into the rocks to escape the barrage. Snafu was in front of them and on the verge of a panicked breakdown.

“This is bullshit!” he cried, plopping down on a rock. “If I ever find the FO that called that arty, I’ll shoot him!”

Gene maintained his hold on (y/n) as he led them toward a big rock, his frustration evident. “They’ll just do it again,” he huffed, gritting his teeth. “All because some asshole officer read a map wrong and nobody gives a shit about us!”

After he sat (y/n) on the boulder beside Snafu, Eugene took a deep breath and sank beside her. He turned to the dazed woman beside him, her once white corpsman armband a brown and muddy mess. “You alright?” he asked her, knowing even he himself wasn’t alright after what happened before the shelling.

The woman and her baby…

(Y/n) nodded slowly, her eyes rising from the ground to meet his. ”Yeah. Just got my bell rung. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” Sledge persisted.

“Yes, Gene. I’m okay,” she murmured wearily, rubbing her eyes. “Really.”

Removing her helmet, she threaded her fingers through her (y/h/c) hair, wincing at the dried mud that pulled at the roots. Over their time on the dreadful island, they all discovered that the jungle was just as much an enemy as the Japs.

Snafu stared wide-eyed at the ground below him, hands on his head as his chest heaved. His expression was the same one that each marine wore as they grappled with the massacre they’d just witnessed.

What country uses its own civilians as shields for a surprise attack?

As a corpsman, (y/n) had seen more death than the average marine, and after the fierce fighting on the islands of Peleliu and Pavuvu, she was struggling to remain afloat in the vast ocean of numbness that threatened to drown her. The only thing keeping her above water were her boys, the men of K Company: Sledge, Snafu, Burgin, and De L’eau, although Jay had been transferred to intelligence. They’d lost so many good men, and it made her even more thankful for the guys who had always been there for her.

“Corpsman up front!”

The call snapped (y/n) from her thoughts, and she quickly rose, momentarily losing her balance until a strong hand grasped her upper arm, holding her steady. She felt the warmth of his hand through her thin ODs as he held her in place, accompanied by a blush creeping up her neck.

“(Y/n)-” Gene started.

Shrugging him off gently, she turned toward the call. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Be careful,” he whispered after her, watching her form disappear into a sea of olive-green uniforms. With another deep breath, Sledge sat back down, trying to calm his still-racing heart. She had been right behind him…until she wasn’t. Panic had gripped him when he saw her motionless figure in the mud as the artillery rained down around them. When she opened her eyes, he felt a weight lift off his chest.

Rain drenched the marines through the night as they held their position looking up to the ridge. Around 2000HRS the next day, (y/n) trudged back to her squad, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Dried blood clung to her cracked hands, refusing to wash away, no matter how many times she’d scrubbed them raw. The casualties were unending like the rain that constantly poured on them. Luckily, the downpour had come to a stop in the early morning.

She’d been at the BAS since the previous afternoon treating and evacuating wounded marines from the already bloody battle. Continued artillery and fire throughout the day brought a steady stream of bleeding men through the tent’s entrance. One of these men had been Bill Leyden. He wasn’t in good shape, and when (y/n) saw the damage on her friend’s body, the air rushed from her lungs. After pushing away the panic, she quickly helped other corpsmen stabilize him, before sending him off to a hospital ship. As she watched him go, her heart sank at the realization the company had lost another man…another friend.

“Hey Doc,” Snafu called out gently as she approached.

She looked up from her feet at the man with a tired smile. “Hey, Snaf,” she whispered. “You seen Gene?”

Motioning over his shoulder, Snafu replied, “He’s right over there. But, Bill…“

“Yeah,” she sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We got him stabilized. He should make a full recovery. Lost a few fingers, though.”

In a trance-like state, Snafu nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. It was something they all did. A way to escape the horrors they lived through. With a gentle squeeze of his shoulder, (y/n) moved to find Sledge, but the Cajun’s voice stopped her.

“Eugene. He got a letter…his dog died.”

She turned to face him with raised brows. “Deacon?”

“I guess,” the man nodded. “I think he’s bothered more than he’s letting on. You know how Eugene is.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to him.”

She found him staring into space ahead of him as he sat up against one of the island’s many rocks. Before she approached, (y/n) simply watched the man before her. She could see his growing stubble and the mud that splattered his cheeks, but what worried her was the blank expression on his face. She longed to see the lopsided smile that used to hang from his lips. (Y/n) didn’t know how long it had been since she’d seen that smile…too long.

Pulling her satchel off her shoulder, she quietly approached him and slouched down beside him. They sat silently for a moment, the warmth of their touching shoulders spreading through them. Gene was the first to break the silence.

“Did you see Bill?” he asked quietly, his eyes still glued on the rocks in front of him.

(Y/n) nodded, looking up at him with a small smile. “Yeah, he’s gonna be okay.”

Gene leaned his head back against the ground with a thud, his eyes closed as a shuttering sigh escaped his lips. She sat up off the rock and turned toward him, gently taking his hand.

“I’m sorry about Deacon.”

The second her fingers intertwined with his, Sledge’s heartbeat accelerated, and the man felt heat spread through his body. He took a moment to compose himself before he opened his eyes. He looked down at their intertwined hands before meeting her concerned gaze.

In that moment, Eugene could have sworn she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It didn’t matter that she was coated in blood, mud, and sweat. She was there for him like nobody else had ever been in his whole life. Sure, he was close with his parents, but he felt they never completely understood him.

Who’d have thought that he’d have to travel almost eight thousand miles to find someone who could do so?

Eugene’s eyes flashed down to her lips, unable to control himself as their closeness made him suddenly bold. He always wondered what they’d taste like. How they’d feel against his. They were chapped, just like everyone else's, but that didn’t matter. The young man wanted a way to show her how much she meant to him. Sure, there had been moments where he told himself he was going to kiss her, but the moment ended before he had the opportunity. Something in the moment felt wrong, though, and he decided to wait once more.

“Thank you,” he whispered, swallowing thickly as he tried to regain his composure and keep the memories of his beloved dog at bay. “He was a good dog.”

“How old was he? 10? 11?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “10.”

The woman’s eyes searched his face, trying to get a read of what he needed from her. She saw pain in his hazel eyes. Pain from the loss of Bill. Pain from the loss of Deacon. Pain caused by the war.

She decided he needed some hope. Some laughter.

“Did I tell you about the time Snaf and I almost got caught stealing from an Army captain?”

Later that day, Gene and the rest of his squad sat among the rocks, each lost in their mind. (Y/n) was beside him, writing in her journal, and they were doing the same…all except Peck, who was attempting to dig a foxhole in the soaked ground. Since the day they arrived on the wretched island, Sledge kept up with how many days they spent there with tallies in the back of his Bible. With the days running together, they rarely knew what day it was or how long they’d been there.

“What’s the date?” Burgie asked, putting down his small journal.

The group turned to Gene, who took a deep breath. “June 5th, maybe. Might be the 6th.” He turned to (y/n). “(Y/n/n), which one you got?”

“I have no idea,” she sighed. “I gave up keeping track a while ago.”

Peck decided to chime in as he dug. “We’re never getting off this island.”

Everyone was thinking it, but he was the one person who dared to speak it aloud.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, glancing over at Gene with an annoyed expression. If looks could kill, Peck would be six feet deep from the redhead’s glare. His jaw clenched tightly, and his chest began to heave as he stared at the replacement.

Sensing his rising anger, (y/n) reached over and placed a hand on his thigh. His eyes moved to meet hers, and her (y/e/c) irises seemed to whisper, ”He’s not worth it,” and, “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Gene took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. Beating the crap out of Peck wouldn’t bring Bill back, and letting anger consume you was a dangerous game. Every time he was tempted to let it in, (y/n) was right there, a soft presence telling him that hate was not the answer. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted daily. Sledge had seen what men could do to each other. He had seen what the Japs did to his friends.

Looking away from Gene, she was met with a strange stare from Snafu, who was smoking a cigarette and sitting on their makeshift toilet. His gaze was questioning, but not criticizing. When the man’s eyes drifted down to her hand, her stomach dropped, and she felt like she was caught red-handed. (Y/n) quickly removed her hand from Gene’s leg and shot to her feet.

“I’m gonna go-uh-do some rounds,” she announced, not daring to look at Gene or Snafu.

A few seconds later, she went treading through the sludge, her corpsman satchel pressed tightly to her side. The men all watched in confusion as she left, unsure what had made her so jumpy all of a sudden.

“She alright?” Hamm asked once she’d disappeared from view.

Burgie, always an observer, glanced over at Sledge to watch his reaction. He looked somewhat like a kicked puppy. Wrapping up his Bible, Gene began to tuck it into his pocket without a word.

“Don’t worry about (y/n), Hamm,” Burgie replied with a nod.

Hamm raised an eyebrow at his sergeant. “But did you see her-”

“She’s fine,” Snafu interrupted, pulling up his pants and rejoining the group. “Besides, she’s already got someone to worry about her.”

At the statement, Eugene froze, a cold chill running through him despite the heat. A million thoughts ran rampant in his mind.

Is there someone else in her life?

Does he know something I don’t?

Does he know how I feel?

Groaning, Burgie smacked the Cajun’s shoulder. “Shut up, Snaf. Don’t go starting crap.”

The sergeant first noticed the bond between Sledge and (y/n) back in training, but especially when the company landed on Peleliu. They always stuck by one another when they could, and she seemed to help calm the Marine amid his anxiety. As time went on and their relationship changed, Romus knew they had feelings for one another, even if they didn’t admit it. He’d never spoken about it to anyone, fearing it could become a rumor that would possibly get the pair in trouble if they ever acted on their feelings. Hearing Snafu insinuate something between them sent a pang of panic through him.

“We all worry about (y/n),” he continued. “But she’s a great corpsman. She can hold her own.”

Before he could finish his sentence, Eugene rose to his feet and went to take a leak. He did have to relieve himself, but he also wanted to get away from the conversation. If Snafu knew about how he felt, the man would never stop tormenting him. Even if it was in a joking way, Gene didn’t want to be the subject of Shelton’s teasing.

Just as he made it to a somewhat secluded spot, he heard Mac’s voice ring out from above him.

“I need a stovepipe boy up top!” he yelled, coming down from the ridge.

Gene slightly ducked his head behind a rock, hoping the lieutenant would miss him. To his dismay, Mac caught his movement in the corner of his eye.

“Sledge, that’s you. Bring some comm wire.”

Sighing when his superior disappeared over the ridge, he muttered, “Yes, sir,” and went to follow his orders.

The stench of excrement and death permeated the air as (y/n) walked through their temporary camp checking on the men. Her eyes watered from the smell, and it took all her willpower not to gag. Even though she’d built a great tolerance to gruesome sights and smells over her time as a corpsman, sometimes it all got to her.

Snafu’s stare replayed in her mind, and she hoped that she didn’t accidentally give herself away to the group. Worry buzzed in her stomach like the disgusting flies that seemed to be ever-present among the mud and filth of Okinawa. (Y/n) tried to busy her mind with the long list of men to check on, but she couldn’t focus more than a few moments before getting lost in her head again.

Spotting a man on her list, she called out to him.

“Hey, James,” she greeted, approaching his muddy foxhole. “How’s the ankle?”

He groaned and shook his head. “As good as it’s gonna be, Doc.”

In the barrage the day prior, the private slipped and rolled his ankle in the mud trying to get to cover. He insisted he was fine, but some of his squadmates sent (y/n) to check on him. Henry James was a stubborn young man who wasn’t even old enough to drink, yet he was on a foreign island in Southeast Asia fighting for his country…fighting to survive. She crouched beside his hole, inspecting the ankle that was elevated above the entrance.

“Were you able to stay off it much?” (y/n) asked, gently prodding the bruised skin.

“A buddy of mine took my OP shift so I didn’t have to walk around on it. It’s more stiff than anything.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “That’s how ankles are. They’re tough-”

Her voice came to a stop as yelling filled the air. It wasn’t cheers of victory or anything of that nature. They were cries of attack…of desperation…of death. The second the sound registered in her mind, she was darting toward the ridge, hoping to get there before the shooting started in case someone got hit. The rapid beating of her heart filled her ears as she ran through the mud and past battle-weary marines. A few of them called out to her, but she didn’t hear them.

The first ping of an M-1 being fired echoed through the air as she made it to the base of the rocky ridge. Cursing under her breath, she quickly began her ascent. Finding the most solid footing, she climbed the hill, using the jagged rocks as handholds. Gunfire filled the air, silencing the screams of the enemy. (Y/n) was out of breath when she made it to the top, but she didn’t stop. Most of the fire had stopped, but a few shots still rang out.

At the moment the corpsman reached the other marines at the top of the ridge, her heart sank at the sight of Eugene unholstering his revolver and aiming at a wounded Jap.

“Cease fire!” Mac cried from the other side of the ridge. “Cease fire!”

Gene didn’t care.

“Damn, Sledge. Leave him,” Hamm muttered to the redhead.

Whipping around to face him, Eugene scowled. “What for? He’s a Jap, ain’t he?”

(Y/n) watched in horror as Gene opened fire on the man already wallowing in the mud. He missed the first two shots, but the third hit its mark, hitting the Jap just above his hip. The soldier sunk into the mud face down, his writhing coming to an end.

“Cease fire!” The Lieutenant repeated as he neared them. “Cease fire, damn it!”

Satisfied with his work, Sledge grabbed his rifle from beside Hamm and turned to descend the ridge. When he noticed (y/n) a few yards away, he froze for a moment, his eyes resembling a dark storm cloud that could start down pouring any second. Guilt seemed to cloud his usual hazel eyes, and he looked away, unable to stay steady beneath her gaze after what he’d just done. He then continued down the ridge.

Mac was quick to confront him, gripping his carbine in one hand with white knuckles.

“I told you to cease fire. What are you doing?”

The private spun to face Mac with gritted teeth.“Killing Japs,” he seethed, turning to go down the hill again.

Before he could get far, the lieutenant spoke again. “You just gave away our position!”

“I think they’ve got a pretty good idea of where we are,” Gene chuckled bitterly.

Mac pointed toward the dead Japs. “I told you to cease fire. You’re supposed to be observing, and then I see you with a damn sidearm!

“We were all sent here to kill Japs, weren’t we?” Sledge screamed, climbing back up to be nose-to-nose with his lieutenant. “So what the hell difference does it make what weapon we use?”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but flinch at Gene’s sudden outburst. She’d never seen him like this before, and she wondered what made him finally break. What was the straw that broke the camel’s back? What had happened in the five minutes she was gone?

A tear streaked down her cheek seeing the man she cared about more than anything giving in to the war. Seeing a man be reduced to a shell of who he once was was always heartbreaking, and (y/n) didn’t realize just how much until she witnessed him finally crack.

“I’d use my damn hands if I had to,” he whispered to a frozen Mac, who clenched his jaw and slowly walked past him. (Y/n) was quick to try and follow Gene once he stormed down the hill, but a gentle hand on her shoulder held her back.

It was Burgin, his face scrunched with concern. “Let ‘em cool off, (y/n/n).”

“Romus, he-”

“I know what he means to you,” he interrupted in a whisper as he glanced around them for any eavesdroppers. “But trust me. You need to leave him be for a little bit. Let him think.”

(Y/n) swallowed thickly. “Please don’t tell anyone, Burgie. I could be-”

“Your secret’s safe with me…He needs you, (y/l/n), but give him a few hours.”

Releasing a shuddering breath, her gaze dropped to the ground. “He was fine when I left. What happened?”

“I don’t know. But we did hear him hollering about something right before he went up top.”

“Thanks for everything, Burg,” she sighed, patting his shoulder softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and the guys.”

A sheepish smile grew on his face, and he chuckled under his breath. “You’d be a lot more ladylike, that’s for sure. The other day, I’m pretty sure I saw you smoking Sledge’s pipe.”

“Whatever,” she groaned, rubbing a hand down her dirty face. “A lot of women actually smoke, ya know?”

The rest of the afternoon did not go according to (y/n)‘s plan, and she was unable to check on Gene after he cooled down. Within an hour of his outburst, she was called back to the field hospital to assist in an all-hands-on-deck emergency following a Jap ambush. The corpsman was up to her elbows in blood, bowels, and every other bodily fluid from vomit to urine. It was a hard night, and it got even worse when a terrible rainstorm moved in, trapping her from returning to her company due to poor visibility.

(Y/n) spent the night, and most of the next day, helping around the hospital. She dressed wounds, administered pain meds, and helped transport men to the hospital ships on a Jeep. A radio call was received that told of the 1st Marine’s plans to take the ridge, and (y/n) knew she needed to be there.

She caught a ride to the ridge just in time for the assault. The men were checking their weapons and quietly conversing with each other as she walked through the various companies. When she reached her squad, however, silence filled the air. They all had thousand-yard stares, and the group was missing two guys who had been there the day before. Her pace slowed as she approached them.

“Hey, guys,” (y/n) said softly, her eyes flicking from man to man. When none of them acknowledged her, she knew something bad had happened. “Where’s Hamm and Peck?”

Silence.

She took a deep breath, trying not to imagine the worst. “Please, guys, whe-”

“Gone,” Gene interrupted harshly, his gaze snapping to hers. “Hamm's dead and Peck’s gone. He cracked.”

(Y/n) felt the all-too-familiar punch of grief knock the air from her lungs. Eugene’s hazel eyes were dark and stormy, even more so than the previous day. She swallowed thickly, attempting to push down the emotion that clogged her throat.

“What happened?” she asked shakily, her eyes never leaving Gene’s.

Before he could respond, Snafu spoke. “Doesn’t matter. They’re gone.”

“Shelton’s right,” Burgin added. “It’s hard, but we’ve got other things to focus on.”

(Y/n) nodded once and dropped her gaze to the group, blinking away the tears that burned her eyes. Two more of their group were gone. Sure, Peck wasn’t her favorite person by any means, but he was still part of their company….on their side. And Hamm…he was a kid. A kid who deserved better than to die in the mud on some foreign island.

They all deserved better.

“Let’s move out!” Mac announced, waving for them to follow.

Each man followed suit, but Eugene hung back to wait on (y/n). Seeing her tear-filled eyes, he instantly regretted opening his mouth. The anger within him seemed to dissipate momentarily as he joined her side.

“Remember, you’ve got a bullseye on your arm,” he murmured, gesturing to the red and white medic brassard on her arm. “Please be careful.”

“I will.” (Y/n) lifted her helmet to look up at him through her lashes. “You take care of yourself, too, alright?”

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered, admiring her features. His eyes trailed from her eyes down to her nose, and then to her lips before flicking back to her (y/e/c) eyes. They stayed locked in each other’s gaze for a few moments, their eyes seeming to have a silent conversation communicating everything that was left unsaid. Gene slowly reached up to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone. The racing of (y/n)‘s heart wasn’t from the artillery that had begun hammering the ridge, but Eugene’s warm caress against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed at the gentle touch.

They both wished the moment could last forever.

Another yell from Mac shattered the moment, leaving (y/n) missing the tenderness of his hand in its absence.

“I’ll find you after,” he said, turning around and backpedaling to catch up with his squad. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

The corner of her lips quirked into a smirk. “I’ll leave that to you.”

Once the battle had died down and all the remaining Japanese were either killed or taken prisoner, (y/n) went searching for Gene. When the bullets began to fly, she couldn’t get the boy from Mobile off her mind, and anxiety churned in her stomach as she looked for him. The stench of gasoline, blood, and burnt flesh filled the air along her ascent to the ridge. Bodies of both marines and the enemy lined the narrow path up the hill, and her eyes scanned each one, praying that none of them were the men she’d come to love dearly.

“Burgie, you seen Sledgehammer? He was just over here.”

Hearing the familiar Cajun accent, she spun toward the voice and sighed in relief when she saw Snafu atop an old bunker, his legs swinging as he sat on the edge with a cigarette hanging from his lip. Romus was talking to another sergeant a few feet away, his rifle swung around his shoulder.

“There you are!” (Y/n) called out, reaching up and slapping Snafu’s foot. It was all she could reach from his elevated position on the concrete bunker. “You alright?”

He smiled and raised an eyebrow, blowing a puff of smoke into the humid air. “Not a scratch on me,” he mused. “I don’t know where Eugene is, but don’t worry, I just saw him. He’s okay, too.”

With this news, a wave of calm washed over her, and she let out the breath she’d been holding since they parted. “Thanks, Snaf. I’ll find him.”

“Have fun,” he laughed, waving his cigarette around in front of him. “And do me a favor and fuc-”

This caught Burgie's attention. “Hey!” He interrupted, scolding Snafu like he was a parent whose child was acting up in public. “Cut it out.”

Busting out laughing, Snafu winked at (y/n), who could feel the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks at his intended comment. She raised a hand and flipped him off with a grin before continuing her search for Gene.

It took her a few minutes of wandering to spot his familiar frame among the sea of dirty green uniforms, but when she did, a huge smile painted her face. (Y/n) almost called out to him, but something stopped her.

He was sitting alone on the busted remains of a bunker with his helmeted head in his hands, his weapon lying idle in the dirt beside him. She continued toward him slowly, observing the gentle shake of his shoulders that told her he was crying.

“Hey, Gene,” (y/n) murmured with a softness that matched the gravity of the moment, lowering herself onto the earth beside him. He reacted quickly, averting his gaze and hiding his face as he wiped the tears from his dirt-covered cheeks.

Reaching over, she softly turned his face toward her. After a moment of resistance, he gave in to her gentle touch. His eyes, glistening with unshed tears, met hers. (Y/n)‘s fingertips traced the dirt-streaked paths on his cheeks, her touch a soothing escape from the horror they lived in.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, ducking to meet his eyes. “I’m here.”

Gene’s lip began to quiver, and a stifled sob escaped him as he covered his face with trembling hands. “I’m a monster, (y/n). The things I’ve done…” he strained, moving away from her comforting touch.

(Y/n) watched the play of emotions on his face as he stood up abruptly, throwing an arm out to point to a bombed-out building. The skeletal remains of what once was a home loomed in the smoky haze. “There was a family in there. Now a baby with grow up without a family! I called in the mortars up there! I did that! I’m a monster!”

“No,” she shot up, her voice cutting him off. “You are not a monster, Eugene Sledge. We are at war. We’ve all done terrible things here, but it does not make you a monster. The fact that you’re feeling like you are proves you’re not. It means you’re human, Gene.”

Another tear streaked down his cheek as he clenched his teeth. “After Bill and everyone we’ve lost, I wanted to get them back. I wanted to. You saw me yesterday!”

“Eugene! Look at me!” she ordered, cupping his cheeks as she implored his attention. His gaze wandered everywhere but her face until she spoke again, her tone much softer this time. “Hon, please look at me.”

Tear-filled hazel eyes met hers, and she tugged him a little closer, they’re faces only inches apart. “We all want to get them back. You are not a monster.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” he croaked, more tears spilling down his cheeks. “What if this is who I am now?”

“I know exactly who you are. You are Eugene Bondurant Sledge. You’re still that same boy from Mobile, Alabama who loved his dog more than anything, the same one who loved to fish with his father, and the very same one who I fell in love with before we even stepped foot on foreign soil.”

A sob escaped his lips, and his eyes squeezed shut, overwhelmed by her words. “There’s no way you can love me like this. You deserve someone else who-”

“I don’t love anyone else, Gene!” she urged, tears stinging her eyes. “I love you, and I’ll say it over and over, every single day, for as long as it takes to make you believe me.”

Shaking his head, he tried to break free from her touch, but she held on. “I’m not a good man.”

“You are good, Eugene. You are a good man. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, but it’s how we respond to them that makes us who we are. This right here? It proves you’re a good man.”

Her words seemed to break through in his mind, and he froze for a moment. Pulling off his helmet, he moved (y/n)‘s hands from his face and cupped her cheeks, his red eyes still glossy. “I love you,” he murmured, voice wavering. “And I will spend the rest of my life working to be worthy of you if you’ll let me.”

The tears (y/n) had been holding back filled her eyes, a few of them trickling from her waterline. She nodded in his gentle hold. “You already are.”

He wiped a few tears away softly, a lopsided smile forming on his lips. “You’re too good for this world, darlin’,” Gene cooed. “You always see the good in people. Even me.”

With utmost care, Gene reached up and removed (y/n)‘s helmet, her tousled (y/h/c) spilling out. The fading sun added a soft glow to their faces, emphasizing the exhaustion etched in their features. As he delicately held the helmet aside, Eugene’s eyes met (y/n)‘s, a silent understanding passing between them. He closed the gap, his breath mixing with hers as his eyes lingered on her face, taking in every detail-the mud smudges, the fatigue-as if memorizing each nuance.

With a gentle touch, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was a tender blend of longing and comfort, a quiet promise to stay by the other’s side. In that moment, the world around them ceased to exist. Time slowed as they embraced, finding solace in the simple act of being together at last. The sounds of war faded into the background, replaced by the gentle symphony of two hearts seeking refuge in the warmth of each other’s touch.

[joe-fuckingtwice-toye]

your eyes are not yellow, shelton, they are a very beautiful gray-blue color, and there is homosexuality in them.

[imaginesbymk]

IMAGINE — BEING KILLED IN ACTION, WHICH TEARS EUGENE AND SNAFU’S FRIENDSHIP APART.

[x] NON REQUESTED

“WOULD you quit giving me that fuckin’ look?” Snafu grunted at his best friend.

“Why?” Eugene snapped, the Japanese bayonet he was about to bring home as a souvenir was now thrown onto the ground. “At least I’m lookin’ out for everyone. You just looked the other way.”

“I didn’t do shit!” Snafu shouts, attracting the company’s attention. “And neither did you! It’s not my fault that y/n got killed!”

“You looked the other way!” Eugene cries.

“It wasn’t my fucking fault, Sledge!” He cries back.

“It’s no one’s fault but theirs!” The boys looked up at the elevated hill made of mud and dirt. Burgin’s authoritative voice overpowered them. It pained him to see his two friends take their anger and heartbreak out on each other, and losing humanity was the last thing he wanted for someone like Eugene.

But seeing you get hit by that sniper changed Eugene forever—creating a chain reaction of his friendship with Snafu. “Now both of you, shut up!”

[iceman-kazansky]

"#I hope you liked it" HSBSHJSJA I LOVED IT! IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL!! THE ENDING HAD ME WEEPING 😭

SPECIFICALLY THE “I love you, and I’ll say it over and over, every single day, for as long as it takes to make you believe me.” 😭😭

See the Good

Eugene Sledge x Medic!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Merry Christmas @iceman-kazansky!! I literally squealed when I saw I got you as my giftee! I loved your prompts, and I hope you like what I did with them!! I'm going to post one gift per day so that they'll be a little spaced out! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of k company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Prompt: “You always see the good in people. Even me.”

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: When Gene can only see himself as the terrible things he's done in the war, (y/n) is right there to remind him who he really is.

Warnings: descriptions of dead bodies (non-graphic)

OKINAWA, JAPAN: MAY, 1945:

The ground beneath their boots trembled, and the deafening whistles of mortars filled the air as (y/n) and the rest of K Company ran for cover. They sunk into the muddy sludge below them, turning each step into a battle against the sucking earth. Gripping her corpsman pack with white knuckles, (y/n) followed Gene, not daring to stop in the barrage.

“They have us targeted!” Burgie yelled, hurdling over a giant boulder in his path. “Get to cover!”

Just as (y/n) ran past the remnants of a demolished shed, a sudden blast threw her violently to the ground, sending a cascade of mud in all directions. Her ears rang with disorientation as she blinked slowly, struggling to regain her senses. The ringing faded into a muffled whine and a face appeared in (y/n)‘s vision. Although the figure’s face was blurred, she knew it was Eugene. His mouth moved rapidly, but she couldn’t understand a word he said. Realizing this, he quickly grasped the front of her uniform and hoisted her to her feet, throwing an arm around her waist to keep her upright as they bolted for cover.

Reaching the rocks, (y/n)‘s hearing slowly faded back, and the sounds of booming artillery reached her ears.

Sledge pulled on her arm, helping her over the rugged terrain. “Come on. We’re almost there!”

Finally reaching the safety of cover, the company continued farther into the rocks to escape the barrage. Snafu was in front of them and on the verge of a panicked breakdown.

“This is bullshit!” he cried, plopping down on a rock. “If I ever find the FO that called that arty, I’ll shoot him!”

Gene maintained his hold on (y/n) as he led them toward a big rock, his frustration evident. “They’ll just do it again,” he huffed, gritting his teeth. “All because some asshole officer read a map wrong and nobody gives a shit about us!”

After he sat (y/n) on the boulder beside Snafu, Eugene took a deep breath and sank beside her. He turned to the dazed woman beside him, her once white corpsman armband a brown and muddy mess. “You alright?” he asked her, knowing even he himself wasn’t alright after what happened before the shelling.

The woman and her baby…

(Y/n) nodded slowly, her eyes rising from the ground to meet his. ”Yeah. Just got my bell rung. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” Sledge persisted.

“Yes, Gene. I’m okay,” she murmured wearily, rubbing her eyes. “Really.”

Removing her helmet, she threaded her fingers through her (y/h/c) hair, wincing at the dried mud that pulled at the roots. Over their time on the dreadful island, they all discovered that the jungle was just as much an enemy as the Japs.

Snafu stared wide-eyed at the ground below him, hands on his head as his chest heaved. His expression was the same one that each marine wore as they grappled with the massacre they’d just witnessed.

What country uses its own civilians as shields for a surprise attack?

As a corpsman, (y/n) had seen more death than the average marine, and after the fierce fighting on the islands of Peleliu and Pavuvu, she was struggling to remain afloat in the vast ocean of numbness that threatened to drown her. The only thing keeping her above water were her boys, the men of K Company: Sledge, Snafu, Burgin, and De L’eau, although Jay had been transferred to intelligence. They’d lost so many good men, and it made her even more thankful for the guys who had always been there for her.

“Corpsman up front!”

The call snapped (y/n) from her thoughts, and she quickly rose, momentarily losing her balance until a strong hand grasped her upper arm, holding her steady. She felt the warmth of his hand through her thin ODs as he held her in place, accompanied by a blush creeping up her neck.

“(Y/n)-” Gene started.

Shrugging him off gently, she turned toward the call. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Be careful,” he whispered after her, watching her form disappear into a sea of olive-green uniforms. With another deep breath, Sledge sat back down, trying to calm his still-racing heart. She had been right behind him…until she wasn’t. Panic had gripped him when he saw her motionless figure in the mud as the artillery rained down around them. When she opened her eyes, he felt a weight lift off his chest.

Rain drenched the marines through the night as they held their position looking up to the ridge. Around 2000HRS the next day, (y/n) trudged back to her squad, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Dried blood clung to her cracked hands, refusing to wash away, no matter how many times she’d scrubbed them raw. The casualties were unending like the rain that constantly poured on them. Luckily, the downpour had come to a stop in the early morning.

She’d been at the BAS since the previous afternoon treating and evacuating wounded marines from the already bloody battle. Continued artillery and fire throughout the day brought a steady stream of bleeding men through the tent’s entrance. One of these men had been Bill Leyden. He wasn’t in good shape, and when (y/n) saw the damage on her friend’s body, the air rushed from her lungs. After pushing away the panic, she quickly helped other corpsmen stabilize him, before sending him off to a hospital ship. As she watched him go, her heart sank at the realization the company had lost another man…another friend.

“Hey Doc,” Snafu called out gently as she approached.

She looked up from her feet at the man with a tired smile. “Hey, Snaf,” she whispered. “You seen Gene?”

Motioning over his shoulder, Snafu replied, “He’s right over there. But, Bill…“

“Yeah,” she sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We got him stabilized. He should make a full recovery. Lost a few fingers, though.”

In a trance-like state, Snafu nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. It was something they all did. A way to escape the horrors they lived through. With a gentle squeeze of his shoulder, (y/n) moved to find Sledge, but the Cajun’s voice stopped her.

“Eugene. He got a letter…his dog died.”

She turned to face him with raised brows. “Deacon?”

“I guess,” the man nodded. “I think he’s bothered more than he’s letting on. You know how Eugene is.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to him.”

She found him staring into space ahead of him as he sat up against one of the island’s many rocks. Before she approached, (y/n) simply watched the man before her. She could see his growing stubble and the mud that splattered his cheeks, but what worried her was the blank expression on his face. She longed to see the lopsided smile that used to hang from his lips. (Y/n) didn’t know how long it had been since she’d seen that smile…too long.

Pulling her satchel off her shoulder, she quietly approached him and slouched down beside him. They sat silently for a moment, the warmth of their touching shoulders spreading through them. Gene was the first to break the silence.

“Did you see Bill?” he asked quietly, his eyes still glued on the rocks in front of him.

(Y/n) nodded, looking up at him with a small smile. “Yeah, he’s gonna be okay.”

Gene leaned his head back against the ground with a thud, his eyes closed as a shuttering sigh escaped his lips. She sat up off the rock and turned toward him, gently taking his hand.

“I’m sorry about Deacon.”

The second her fingers intertwined with his, Sledge’s heartbeat accelerated, and the man felt heat spread through his body. He took a moment to compose himself before he opened his eyes. He looked down at their intertwined hands before meeting her concerned gaze.

In that moment, Eugene could have sworn she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It didn’t matter that she was coated in blood, mud, and sweat. She was there for him like nobody else had ever been in his whole life. Sure, he was close with his parents, but he felt they never completely understood him.

Who’d have thought that he’d have to travel almost eight thousand miles to find someone who could do so?

Eugene’s eyes flashed down to her lips, unable to control himself as their closeness made him suddenly bold. He always wondered what they’d taste like. How they’d feel against his. They were chapped, just like everyone else's, but that didn’t matter. The young man wanted a way to show her how much she meant to him. Sure, there had been moments where he told himself he was going to kiss her, but the moment ended before he had the opportunity. Something in the moment felt wrong, though, and he decided to wait once more.

“Thank you,” he whispered, swallowing thickly as he tried to regain his composure and keep the memories of his beloved dog at bay. “He was a good dog.”

“How old was he? 10? 11?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “10.”

The woman’s eyes searched his face, trying to get a read of what he needed from her. She saw pain in his hazel eyes. Pain from the loss of Bill. Pain from the loss of Deacon. Pain caused by the war.

She decided he needed some hope. Some laughter.

“Did I tell you about the time Snaf and I almost got caught stealing from an Army captain?”

Later that day, Gene and the rest of his squad sat among the rocks, each lost in their mind. (Y/n) was beside him, writing in her journal, and they were doing the same…all except Peck, who was attempting to dig a foxhole in the soaked ground. Since the day they arrived on the wretched island, Sledge kept up with how many days they spent there with tallies in the back of his Bible. With the days running together, they rarely knew what day it was or how long they’d been there.

“What’s the date?” Burgie asked, putting down his small journal.

The group turned to Gene, who took a deep breath. “June 5th, maybe. Might be the 6th.” He turned to (y/n). “(Y/n/n), which one you got?”

“I have no idea,” she sighed. “I gave up keeping track a while ago.”

Peck decided to chime in as he dug. “We’re never getting off this island.”

Everyone was thinking it, but he was the one person who dared to speak it aloud.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, glancing over at Gene with an annoyed expression. If looks could kill, Peck would be six feet deep from the redhead’s glare. His jaw clenched tightly, and his chest began to heave as he stared at the replacement.

Sensing his rising anger, (y/n) reached over and placed a hand on his thigh. His eyes moved to meet hers, and her (y/e/c) irises seemed to whisper, ”He’s not worth it,” and, “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Gene took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. Beating the crap out of Peck wouldn’t bring Bill back, and letting anger consume you was a dangerous game. Every time he was tempted to let it in, (y/n) was right there, a soft presence telling him that hate was not the answer. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted daily. Sledge had seen what men could do to each other. He had seen what the Japs did to his friends.

Looking away from Gene, she was met with a strange stare from Snafu, who was smoking a cigarette and sitting on their makeshift toilet. His gaze was questioning, but not criticizing. When the man’s eyes drifted down to her hand, her stomach dropped, and she felt like she was caught red-handed. (Y/n) quickly removed her hand from Gene’s leg and shot to her feet.

“I’m gonna go-uh-do some rounds,” she announced, not daring to look at Gene or Snafu.

A few seconds later, she went treading through the sludge, her corpsman satchel pressed tightly to her side. The men all watched in confusion as she left, unsure what had made her so jumpy all of a sudden.

“She alright?” Hamm asked once she’d disappeared from view.

Burgie, always an observer, glanced over at Sledge to watch his reaction. He looked somewhat like a kicked puppy. Wrapping up his Bible, Gene began to tuck it into his pocket without a word.

“Don’t worry about (y/n), Hamm,” Burgie replied with a nod.

Hamm raised an eyebrow at his sergeant. “But did you see her-”

“She’s fine,” Snafu interrupted, pulling up his pants and rejoining the group. “Besides, she’s already got someone to worry about her.”

At the statement, Eugene froze, a cold chill running through him despite the heat. A million thoughts ran rampant in his mind.

Is there someone else in her life?

Does he know something I don’t?

Does he know how I feel?

Groaning, Burgie smacked the Cajun’s shoulder. “Shut up, Snaf. Don’t go starting crap.”

The sergeant first noticed the bond between Sledge and (y/n) back in training, but especially when the company landed on Peleliu. They always stuck by one another when they could, and she seemed to help calm the Marine amid his anxiety. As time went on and their relationship changed, Romus knew they had feelings for one another, even if they didn’t admit it. He’d never spoken about it to anyone, fearing it could become a rumor that would possibly get the pair in trouble if they ever acted on their feelings. Hearing Snafu insinuate something between them sent a pang of panic through him.

“We all worry about (y/n),” he continued. “But she’s a great corpsman. She can hold her own.”

Before he could finish his sentence, Eugene rose to his feet and went to take a leak. He did have to relieve himself, but he also wanted to get away from the conversation. If Snafu knew about how he felt, the man would never stop tormenting him. Even if it was in a joking way, Gene didn’t want to be the subject of Shelton’s teasing.

Just as he made it to a somewhat secluded spot, he heard Mac’s voice ring out from above him.

“I need a stovepipe boy up top!” he yelled, coming down from the ridge.

Gene slightly ducked his head behind a rock, hoping the lieutenant would miss him. To his dismay, Mac caught his movement in the corner of his eye.

“Sledge, that’s you. Bring some comm wire.”

Sighing when his superior disappeared over the ridge, he muttered, “Yes, sir,” and went to follow his orders.

The stench of excrement and death permeated the air as (y/n) walked through their temporary camp checking on the men. Her eyes watered from the smell, and it took all her willpower not to gag. Even though she’d built a great tolerance to gruesome sights and smells over her time as a corpsman, sometimes it all got to her.

Snafu’s stare replayed in her mind, and she hoped that she didn’t accidentally give herself away to the group. Worry buzzed in her stomach like the disgusting flies that seemed to be ever-present among the mud and filth of Okinawa. (Y/n) tried to busy her mind with the long list of men to check on, but she couldn’t focus more than a few moments before getting lost in her head again.

Spotting a man on her list, she called out to him.

“Hey, James,” she greeted, approaching his muddy foxhole. “How’s the ankle?”

He groaned and shook his head. “As good as it’s gonna be, Doc.”

In the barrage the day prior, the private slipped and rolled his ankle in the mud trying to get to cover. He insisted he was fine, but some of his squadmates sent (y/n) to check on him. Henry James was a stubborn young man who wasn’t even old enough to drink, yet he was on a foreign island in Southeast Asia fighting for his country…fighting to survive. She crouched beside his hole, inspecting the ankle that was elevated above the entrance.

“Were you able to stay off it much?” (y/n) asked, gently prodding the bruised skin.

“A buddy of mine took my OP shift so I didn’t have to walk around on it. It’s more stiff than anything.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “That’s how ankles are. They’re tough-”

Her voice came to a stop as yelling filled the air. It wasn’t cheers of victory or anything of that nature. They were cries of attack…of desperation…of death. The second the sound registered in her mind, she was darting toward the ridge, hoping to get there before the shooting started in case someone got hit. The rapid beating of her heart filled her ears as she ran through the mud and past battle-weary marines. A few of them called out to her, but she didn’t hear them.

The first ping of an M-1 being fired echoed through the air as she made it to the base of the rocky ridge. Cursing under her breath, she quickly began her ascent. Finding the most solid footing, she climbed the hill, using the jagged rocks as handholds. Gunfire filled the air, silencing the screams of the enemy. (Y/n) was out of breath when she made it to the top, but she didn’t stop. Most of the fire had stopped, but a few shots still rang out.

At the moment the corpsman reached the other marines at the top of the ridge, her heart sank at the sight of Eugene unholstering his revolver and aiming at a wounded Jap.

“Cease fire!” Mac cried from the other side of the ridge. “Cease fire!”

Gene didn’t care.

“Damn, Sledge. Leave him,” Hamm muttered to the redhead.

Whipping around to face him, Eugene scowled. “What for? He’s a Jap, ain’t he?”

(Y/n) watched in horror as Gene opened fire on the man already wallowing in the mud. He missed the first two shots, but the third hit its mark, hitting the Jap just above his hip. The soldier sunk into the mud face down, his writhing coming to an end.

“Cease fire!” The Lieutenant repeated as he neared them. “Cease fire, damn it!”

Satisfied with his work, Sledge grabbed his rifle from beside Hamm and turned to descend the ridge. When he noticed (y/n) a few yards away, he froze for a moment, his eyes resembling a dark storm cloud that could start down pouring any second. Guilt seemed to cloud his usual hazel eyes, and he looked away, unable to stay steady beneath her gaze after what he’d just done. He then continued down the ridge.

Mac was quick to confront him, gripping his carbine in one hand with white knuckles.

“I told you to cease fire. What are you doing?”

The private spun to face Mac with gritted teeth.“Killing Japs,” he seethed, turning to go down the hill again.

Before he could get far, the lieutenant spoke again. “You just gave away our position!”

“I think they’ve got a pretty good idea of where we are,” Gene chuckled bitterly.

Mac pointed toward the dead Japs. “I told you to cease fire. You’re supposed to be observing, and then I see you with a damn sidearm!

“We were all sent here to kill Japs, weren’t we?” Sledge screamed, climbing back up to be nose-to-nose with his lieutenant. “So what the hell difference does it make what weapon we use?”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but flinch at Gene’s sudden outburst. She’d never seen him like this before, and she wondered what made him finally break. What was the straw that broke the camel’s back? What had happened in the five minutes she was gone?

A tear streaked down her cheek seeing the man she cared about more than anything giving in to the war. Seeing a man be reduced to a shell of who he once was was always heartbreaking, and (y/n) didn’t realize just how much until she witnessed him finally crack.

“I’d use my damn hands if I had to,” he whispered to a frozen Mac, who clenched his jaw and slowly walked past him. (Y/n) was quick to try and follow Gene once he stormed down the hill, but a gentle hand on her shoulder held her back.

It was Burgin, his face scrunched with concern. “Let ‘em cool off, (y/n/n).”

“Romus, he-”

“I know what he means to you,” he interrupted in a whisper as he glanced around them for any eavesdroppers. “But trust me. You need to leave him be for a little bit. Let him think.”

(Y/n) swallowed thickly. “Please don’t tell anyone, Burgie. I could be-”

“Your secret’s safe with me…He needs you, (y/l/n), but give him a few hours.”

Releasing a shuddering breath, her gaze dropped to the ground. “He was fine when I left. What happened?”

“I don’t know. But we did hear him hollering about something right before he went up top.”

“Thanks for everything, Burg,” she sighed, patting his shoulder softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and the guys.”

A sheepish smile grew on his face, and he chuckled under his breath. “You’d be a lot more ladylike, that’s for sure. The other day, I’m pretty sure I saw you smoking Sledge’s pipe.”

“Whatever,” she groaned, rubbing a hand down her dirty face. “A lot of women actually smoke, ya know?”

The rest of the afternoon did not go according to (y/n)‘s plan, and she was unable to check on Gene after he cooled down. Within an hour of his outburst, she was called back to the field hospital to assist in an all-hands-on-deck emergency following a Jap ambush. The corpsman was up to her elbows in blood, bowels, and every other bodily fluid from vomit to urine. It was a hard night, and it got even worse when a terrible rainstorm moved in, trapping her from returning to her company due to poor visibility.

(Y/n) spent the night, and most of the next day, helping around the hospital. She dressed wounds, administered pain meds, and helped transport men to the hospital ships on a Jeep. A radio call was received that told of the 1st Marine’s plans to take the ridge, and (y/n) knew she needed to be there.

She caught a ride to the ridge just in time for the assault. The men were checking their weapons and quietly conversing with each other as she walked through the various companies. When she reached her squad, however, silence filled the air. They all had thousand-yard stares, and the group was missing two guys who had been there the day before. Her pace slowed as she approached them.

“Hey, guys,” (y/n) said softly, her eyes flicking from man to man. When none of them acknowledged her, she knew something bad had happened. “Where’s Hamm and Peck?”

Silence.

She took a deep breath, trying not to imagine the worst. “Please, guys, whe-”

“Gone,” Gene interrupted harshly, his gaze snapping to hers. “Hamm's dead and Peck’s gone. He cracked.”

(Y/n) felt the all-too-familiar punch of grief knock the air from her lungs. Eugene’s hazel eyes were dark and stormy, even more so than the previous day. She swallowed thickly, attempting to push down the emotion that clogged her throat.

“What happened?” she asked shakily, her eyes never leaving Gene’s.

Before he could respond, Snafu spoke. “Doesn’t matter. They’re gone.”

“Shelton’s right,” Burgin added. “It’s hard, but we’ve got other things to focus on.”

(Y/n) nodded once and dropped her gaze to the group, blinking away the tears that burned her eyes. Two more of their group were gone. Sure, Peck wasn’t her favorite person by any means, but he was still part of their company….on their side. And Hamm…he was a kid. A kid who deserved better than to die in the mud on some foreign island.

They all deserved better.

“Let’s move out!” Mac announced, waving for them to follow.

Each man followed suit, but Eugene hung back to wait on (y/n). Seeing her tear-filled eyes, he instantly regretted opening his mouth. The anger within him seemed to dissipate momentarily as he joined her side.

“Remember, you’ve got a bullseye on your arm,” he murmured, gesturing to the red and white medic brassard on her arm. “Please be careful.”

“I will.” (Y/n) lifted her helmet to look up at him through her lashes. “You take care of yourself, too, alright?”

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered, admiring her features. His eyes trailed from her eyes down to her nose, and then to her lips before flicking back to her (y/e/c) eyes. They stayed locked in each other’s gaze for a few moments, their eyes seeming to have a silent conversation communicating everything that was left unsaid. Gene slowly reached up to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone. The racing of (y/n)‘s heart wasn’t from the artillery that had begun hammering the ridge, but Eugene’s warm caress against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed at the gentle touch.

They both wished the moment could last forever.

Another yell from Mac shattered the moment, leaving (y/n) missing the tenderness of his hand in its absence.

“I’ll find you after,” he said, turning around and backpedaling to catch up with his squad. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

The corner of her lips quirked into a smirk. “I’ll leave that to you.”

Once the battle had died down and all the remaining Japanese were either killed or taken prisoner, (y/n) went searching for Gene. When the bullets began to fly, she couldn’t get the boy from Mobile off her mind, and anxiety churned in her stomach as she looked for him. The stench of gasoline, blood, and burnt flesh filled the air along her ascent to the ridge. Bodies of both marines and the enemy lined the narrow path up the hill, and her eyes scanned each one, praying that none of them were the men she’d come to love dearly.

“Burgie, you seen Sledgehammer? He was just over here.”

Hearing the familiar Cajun accent, she spun toward the voice and sighed in relief when she saw Snafu atop an old bunker, his legs swinging as he sat on the edge with a cigarette hanging from his lip. Romus was talking to another sergeant a few feet away, his rifle swung around his shoulder.

“There you are!” (Y/n) called out, reaching up and slapping Snafu’s foot. It was all she could reach from his elevated position on the concrete bunker. “You alright?”

He smiled and raised an eyebrow, blowing a puff of smoke into the humid air. “Not a scratch on me,” he mused. “I don’t know where Eugene is, but don’t worry, I just saw him. He’s okay, too.”

With this news, a wave of calm washed over her, and she let out the breath she’d been holding since they parted. “Thanks, Snaf. I’ll find him.”

“Have fun,” he laughed, waving his cigarette around in front of him. “And do me a favor and fuc-”

This caught Burgie's attention. “Hey!” He interrupted, scolding Snafu like he was a parent whose child was acting up in public. “Cut it out.”

Busting out laughing, Snafu winked at (y/n), who could feel the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks at his intended comment. She raised a hand and flipped him off with a grin before continuing her search for Gene.

It took her a few minutes of wandering to spot his familiar frame among the sea of dirty green uniforms, but when she did, a huge smile painted her face. (Y/n) almost called out to him, but something stopped her.

He was sitting alone on the busted remains of a bunker with his helmeted head in his hands, his weapon lying idle in the dirt beside him. She continued toward him slowly, observing the gentle shake of his shoulders that told her he was crying.

“Hey, Gene,” (y/n) murmured with a softness that matched the gravity of the moment, lowering herself onto the earth beside him. He reacted quickly, averting his gaze and hiding his face as he wiped the tears from his dirt-covered cheeks.

Reaching over, she softly turned his face toward her. After a moment of resistance, he gave in to her gentle touch. His eyes, glistening with unshed tears, met hers. (Y/n)‘s fingertips traced the dirt-streaked paths on his cheeks, her touch a soothing escape from the horror they lived in.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, ducking to meet his eyes. “I’m here.”

Gene’s lip began to quiver, and a stifled sob escaped him as he covered his face with trembling hands. “I’m a monster, (y/n). The things I’ve done…” he strained, moving away from her comforting touch.

(Y/n) watched the play of emotions on his face as he stood up abruptly, throwing an arm out to point to a bombed-out building. The skeletal remains of what once was a home loomed in the smoky haze. “There was a family in there. Now a baby with grow up without a family! I called in the mortars up there! I did that! I’m a monster!”

“No,” she shot up, her voice cutting him off. “You are not a monster, Eugene Sledge. We are at war. We’ve all done terrible things here, but it does not make you a monster. The fact that you’re feeling like you are proves you’re not. It means you’re human, Gene.”

Another tear streaked down his cheek as he clenched his teeth. “After Bill and everyone we’ve lost, I wanted to get them back. I wanted to. You saw me yesterday!”

“Eugene! Look at me!” she ordered, cupping his cheeks as she implored his attention. His gaze wandered everywhere but her face until she spoke again, her tone much softer this time. “Hon, please look at me.”

Tear-filled hazel eyes met hers, and she tugged him a little closer, they’re faces only inches apart. “We all want to get them back. You are not a monster.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” he croaked, more tears spilling down his cheeks. “What if this is who I am now?”

“I know exactly who you are. You are Eugene Bondurant Sledge. You’re still that same boy from Mobile, Alabama who loved his dog more than anything, the same one who loved to fish with his father, and the very same one who I fell in love with before we even stepped foot on foreign soil.”

A sob escaped his lips, and his eyes squeezed shut, overwhelmed by her words. “There’s no way you can love me like this. You deserve someone else who-”

“I don’t love anyone else, Gene!” she urged, tears stinging her eyes. “I love you, and I’ll say it over and over, every single day, for as long as it takes to make you believe me.”

Shaking his head, he tried to break free from her touch, but she held on. “I’m not a good man.”

“You are good, Eugene. You are a good man. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, but it’s how we respond to them that makes us who we are. This right here? It proves you’re a good man.”

Her words seemed to break through in his mind, and he froze for a moment. Pulling off his helmet, he moved (y/n)‘s hands from his face and cupped her cheeks, his red eyes still glossy. “I love you,” he murmured, voice wavering. “And I will spend the rest of my life working to be worthy of you if you’ll let me.”

The tears (y/n) had been holding back filled her eyes, a few of them trickling from her waterline. She nodded in his gentle hold. “You already are.”

He wiped a few tears away softly, a lopsided smile forming on his lips. “You’re too good for this world, darlin’,” Gene cooed. “You always see the good in people. Even me.”

With utmost care, Gene reached up and removed (y/n)‘s helmet, her tousled (y/h/c) spilling out. The fading sun added a soft glow to their faces, emphasizing the exhaustion etched in their features. As he delicately held the helmet aside, Eugene’s eyes met (y/n)‘s, a silent understanding passing between them. He closed the gap, his breath mixing with hers as his eyes lingered on her face, taking in every detail-the mud smudges, the fatigue-as if memorizing each nuance.

With a gentle touch, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was a tender blend of longing and comfort, a quiet promise to stay by the other’s side. In that moment, the world around them ceased to exist. Time slowed as they embraced, finding solace in the simple act of being together at last. The sounds of war faded into the background, replaced by the gentle symphony of two hearts seeking refuge in the warmth of each other’s touch.

[theweirdgoodbyes]

nightmare HBO war blunt rotation: George Luz, Snafu Shelton, Ray Person, B U C K Y E G A N. imagine being high as fuck listening to these assholes yap away

[mads-weasley]

See the Good

Eugene Sledge x Medic!Reader

Masterlist

A/N: Merry Christmas @iceman-kazansky!! I literally squealed when I saw I got you as my giftee! I loved your prompts, and I hope you like what I did with them!! I'm going to post one gift per day so that they'll be a little spaced out! hbo owns the rights, and this is about the fictional portrayal of k company on the show. nothing but love and respect for veterans on this blog!

Prompt: “You always see the good in people. Even me.”

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: When Gene can only see himself as the terrible things he's done in the war, (y/n) is right there to remind him who he really is.

Warnings: descriptions of dead bodies (non-graphic)

OKINAWA, JAPAN: MAY, 1945:

The ground beneath their boots trembled, and the deafening whistles of mortars filled the air as (y/n) and the rest of K Company ran for cover. They sunk into the muddy sludge below them, turning each step into a battle against the sucking earth. Gripping her corpsman pack with white knuckles, (y/n) followed Gene, not daring to stop in the barrage.

“They have us targeted!” Burgie yelled, hurdling over a giant boulder in his path. “Get to cover!”

Just as (y/n) ran past the remnants of a demolished shed, a sudden blast threw her violently to the ground, sending a cascade of mud in all directions. Her ears rang with disorientation as she blinked slowly, struggling to regain her senses. The ringing faded into a muffled whine and a face appeared in (y/n)‘s vision. Although the figure’s face was blurred, she knew it was Eugene. His mouth moved rapidly, but she couldn’t understand a word he said. Realizing this, he quickly grasped the front of her uniform and hoisted her to her feet, throwing an arm around her waist to keep her upright as they bolted for cover.

Reaching the rocks, (y/n)‘s hearing slowly faded back, and the sounds of booming artillery reached her ears.

Sledge pulled on her arm, helping her over the rugged terrain. “Come on. We’re almost there!”

Finally reaching the safety of cover, the company continued farther into the rocks to escape the barrage. Snafu was in front of them and on the verge of a panicked breakdown.

“This is bullshit!” he cried, plopping down on a rock. “If I ever find the FO that called that arty, I’ll shoot him!”

Gene maintained his hold on (y/n) as he led them toward a big rock, his frustration evident. “They’ll just do it again,” he huffed, gritting his teeth. “All because some asshole officer read a map wrong and nobody gives a shit about us!”

After he sat (y/n) on the boulder beside Snafu, Eugene took a deep breath and sank beside her. He turned to the dazed woman beside him, her once white corpsman armband a brown and muddy mess. “You alright?” he asked her, knowing even he himself wasn’t alright after what happened before the shelling.

The woman and her baby…

(Y/n) nodded slowly, her eyes rising from the ground to meet his. ”Yeah. Just got my bell rung. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” Sledge persisted.

“Yes, Gene. I’m okay,” she murmured wearily, rubbing her eyes. “Really.”

Removing her helmet, she threaded her fingers through her (y/h/c) hair, wincing at the dried mud that pulled at the roots. Over their time on the dreadful island, they all discovered that the jungle was just as much an enemy as the Japs.

Snafu stared wide-eyed at the ground below him, hands on his head as his chest heaved. His expression was the same one that each marine wore as they grappled with the massacre they’d just witnessed.

What country uses its own civilians as shields for a surprise attack?

As a corpsman, (y/n) had seen more death than the average marine, and after the fierce fighting on the islands of Peleliu and Pavuvu, she was struggling to remain afloat in the vast ocean of numbness that threatened to drown her. The only thing keeping her above water were her boys, the men of K Company: Sledge, Snafu, Burgin, and De L’eau, although Jay had been transferred to intelligence. They’d lost so many good men, and it made her even more thankful for the guys who had always been there for her.

“Corpsman up front!”

The call snapped (y/n) from her thoughts, and she quickly rose, momentarily losing her balance until a strong hand grasped her upper arm, holding her steady. She felt the warmth of his hand through her thin ODs as he held her in place, accompanied by a blush creeping up her neck.

“(Y/n)-” Gene started.

Shrugging him off gently, she turned toward the call. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Be careful,” he whispered after her, watching her form disappear into a sea of olive-green uniforms. With another deep breath, Sledge sat back down, trying to calm his still-racing heart. She had been right behind him…until she wasn’t. Panic had gripped him when he saw her motionless figure in the mud as the artillery rained down around them. When she opened her eyes, he felt a weight lift off his chest.

Rain drenched the marines through the night as they held their position looking up to the ridge. Around 2000HRS the next day, (y/n) trudged back to her squad, eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Dried blood clung to her cracked hands, refusing to wash away, no matter how many times she’d scrubbed them raw. The casualties were unending like the rain that constantly poured on them. Luckily, the downpour had come to a stop in the early morning.

She’d been at the BAS since the previous afternoon treating and evacuating wounded marines from the already bloody battle. Continued artillery and fire throughout the day brought a steady stream of bleeding men through the tent’s entrance. One of these men had been Bill Leyden. He wasn’t in good shape, and when (y/n) saw the damage on her friend’s body, the air rushed from her lungs. After pushing away the panic, she quickly helped other corpsmen stabilize him, before sending him off to a hospital ship. As she watched him go, her heart sank at the realization the company had lost another man…another friend.

“Hey Doc,” Snafu called out gently as she approached.

She looked up from her feet at the man with a tired smile. “Hey, Snaf,” she whispered. “You seen Gene?”

Motioning over his shoulder, Snafu replied, “He’s right over there. But, Bill…“

“Yeah,” she sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “We got him stabilized. He should make a full recovery. Lost a few fingers, though.”

In a trance-like state, Snafu nodded, his gaze fixed ahead. It was something they all did. A way to escape the horrors they lived through. With a gentle squeeze of his shoulder, (y/n) moved to find Sledge, but the Cajun’s voice stopped her.

“Eugene. He got a letter…his dog died.”

She turned to face him with raised brows. “Deacon?”

“I guess,” the man nodded. “I think he’s bothered more than he’s letting on. You know how Eugene is.”

“Yeah. I’ll talk to him.”

She found him staring into space ahead of him as he sat up against one of the island’s many rocks. Before she approached, (y/n) simply watched the man before her. She could see his growing stubble and the mud that splattered his cheeks, but what worried her was the blank expression on his face. She longed to see the lopsided smile that used to hang from his lips. (Y/n) didn’t know how long it had been since she’d seen that smile…too long.

Pulling her satchel off her shoulder, she quietly approached him and slouched down beside him. They sat silently for a moment, the warmth of their touching shoulders spreading through them. Gene was the first to break the silence.

“Did you see Bill?” he asked quietly, his eyes still glued on the rocks in front of him.

(Y/n) nodded, looking up at him with a small smile. “Yeah, he’s gonna be okay.”

Gene leaned his head back against the ground with a thud, his eyes closed as a shuttering sigh escaped his lips. She sat up off the rock and turned toward him, gently taking his hand.

“I’m sorry about Deacon.”

The second her fingers intertwined with his, Sledge’s heartbeat accelerated, and the man felt heat spread through his body. He took a moment to compose himself before he opened his eyes. He looked down at their intertwined hands before meeting her concerned gaze.

In that moment, Eugene could have sworn she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It didn’t matter that she was coated in blood, mud, and sweat. She was there for him like nobody else had ever been in his whole life. Sure, he was close with his parents, but he felt they never completely understood him.

Who’d have thought that he’d have to travel almost eight thousand miles to find someone who could do so?

Eugene’s eyes flashed down to her lips, unable to control himself as their closeness made him suddenly bold. He always wondered what they’d taste like. How they’d feel against his. They were chapped, just like everyone else's, but that didn’t matter. The young man wanted a way to show her how much she meant to him. Sure, there had been moments where he told himself he was going to kiss her, but the moment ended before he had the opportunity. Something in the moment felt wrong, though, and he decided to wait once more.

“Thank you,” he whispered, swallowing thickly as he tried to regain his composure and keep the memories of his beloved dog at bay. “He was a good dog.”

“How old was he? 10? 11?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “10.”

The woman’s eyes searched his face, trying to get a read of what he needed from her. She saw pain in his hazel eyes. Pain from the loss of Bill. Pain from the loss of Deacon. Pain caused by the war.

She decided he needed some hope. Some laughter.

“Did I tell you about the time Snaf and I almost got caught stealing from an Army captain?”

Later that day, Gene and the rest of his squad sat among the rocks, each lost in their mind. (Y/n) was beside him, writing in her journal, and they were doing the same…all except Peck, who was attempting to dig a foxhole in the soaked ground. Since the day they arrived on the wretched island, Sledge kept up with how many days they spent there with tallies in the back of his Bible. With the days running together, they rarely knew what day it was or how long they’d been there.

“What’s the date?” Burgie asked, putting down his small journal.

The group turned to Gene, who took a deep breath. “June 5th, maybe. Might be the 6th.” He turned to (y/n). “(Y/n/n), which one you got?”

“I have no idea,” she sighed. “I gave up keeping track a while ago.”

Peck decided to chime in as he dug. “We’re never getting off this island.”

Everyone was thinking it, but he was the one person who dared to speak it aloud.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, glancing over at Gene with an annoyed expression. If looks could kill, Peck would be six feet deep from the redhead’s glare. His jaw clenched tightly, and his chest began to heave as he stared at the replacement.

Sensing his rising anger, (y/n) reached over and placed a hand on his thigh. His eyes moved to meet hers, and her (y/e/c) irises seemed to whisper, ”He’s not worth it,” and, “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Gene took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. Beating the crap out of Peck wouldn’t bring Bill back, and letting anger consume you was a dangerous game. Every time he was tempted to let it in, (y/n) was right there, a soft presence telling him that hate was not the answer. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted daily. Sledge had seen what men could do to each other. He had seen what the Japs did to his friends.

Looking away from Gene, she was met with a strange stare from Snafu, who was smoking a cigarette and sitting on their makeshift toilet. His gaze was questioning, but not criticizing. When the man’s eyes drifted down to her hand, her stomach dropped, and she felt like she was caught red-handed. (Y/n) quickly removed her hand from Gene’s leg and shot to her feet.

“I’m gonna go-uh-do some rounds,” she announced, not daring to look at Gene or Snafu.

A few seconds later, she went treading through the sludge, her corpsman satchel pressed tightly to her side. The men all watched in confusion as she left, unsure what had made her so jumpy all of a sudden.

“She alright?” Hamm asked once she’d disappeared from view.

Burgie, always an observer, glanced over at Sledge to watch his reaction. He looked somewhat like a kicked puppy. Wrapping up his Bible, Gene began to tuck it into his pocket without a word.

“Don’t worry about (y/n), Hamm,” Burgie replied with a nod.

Hamm raised an eyebrow at his sergeant. “But did you see her-”

“She’s fine,” Snafu interrupted, pulling up his pants and rejoining the group. “Besides, she’s already got someone to worry about her.”

At the statement, Eugene froze, a cold chill running through him despite the heat. A million thoughts ran rampant in his mind.

Is there someone else in her life?

Does he know something I don’t?

Does he know how I feel?

Groaning, Burgie smacked the Cajun’s shoulder. “Shut up, Snaf. Don’t go starting crap.”

The sergeant first noticed the bond between Sledge and (y/n) back in training, but especially when the company landed on Peleliu. They always stuck by one another when they could, and she seemed to help calm the Marine amid his anxiety. As time went on and their relationship changed, Romus knew they had feelings for one another, even if they didn’t admit it. He’d never spoken about it to anyone, fearing it could become a rumor that would possibly get the pair in trouble if they ever acted on their feelings. Hearing Snafu insinuate something between them sent a pang of panic through him.

“We all worry about (y/n),” he continued. “But she’s a great corpsman. She can hold her own.”

Before he could finish his sentence, Eugene rose to his feet and went to take a leak. He did have to relieve himself, but he also wanted to get away from the conversation. If Snafu knew about how he felt, the man would never stop tormenting him. Even if it was in a joking way, Gene didn’t want to be the subject of Shelton’s teasing.

Just as he made it to a somewhat secluded spot, he heard Mac’s voice ring out from above him.

“I need a stovepipe boy up top!” he yelled, coming down from the ridge.

Gene slightly ducked his head behind a rock, hoping the lieutenant would miss him. To his dismay, Mac caught his movement in the corner of his eye.

“Sledge, that’s you. Bring some comm wire.”

Sighing when his superior disappeared over the ridge, he muttered, “Yes, sir,” and went to follow his orders.

The stench of excrement and death permeated the air as (y/n) walked through their temporary camp checking on the men. Her eyes watered from the smell, and it took all her willpower not to gag. Even though she’d built a great tolerance to gruesome sights and smells over her time as a corpsman, sometimes it all got to her.

Snafu’s stare replayed in her mind, and she hoped that she didn’t accidentally give herself away to the group. Worry buzzed in her stomach like the disgusting flies that seemed to be ever-present among the mud and filth of Okinawa. (Y/n) tried to busy her mind with the long list of men to check on, but she couldn’t focus more than a few moments before getting lost in her head again.

Spotting a man on her list, she called out to him.

“Hey, James,” she greeted, approaching his muddy foxhole. “How’s the ankle?”

He groaned and shook his head. “As good as it’s gonna be, Doc.”

In the barrage the day prior, the private slipped and rolled his ankle in the mud trying to get to cover. He insisted he was fine, but some of his squadmates sent (y/n) to check on him. Henry James was a stubborn young man who wasn’t even old enough to drink, yet he was on a foreign island in Southeast Asia fighting for his country…fighting to survive. She crouched beside his hole, inspecting the ankle that was elevated above the entrance.

“Were you able to stay off it much?” (y/n) asked, gently prodding the bruised skin.

“A buddy of mine took my OP shift so I didn’t have to walk around on it. It’s more stiff than anything.”

“Yeah,” she sighed. “That’s how ankles are. They’re tough-”

Her voice came to a stop as yelling filled the air. It wasn’t cheers of victory or anything of that nature. They were cries of attack…of desperation…of death. The second the sound registered in her mind, she was darting toward the ridge, hoping to get there before the shooting started in case someone got hit. The rapid beating of her heart filled her ears as she ran through the mud and past battle-weary marines. A few of them called out to her, but she didn’t hear them.

The first ping of an M-1 being fired echoed through the air as she made it to the base of the rocky ridge. Cursing under her breath, she quickly began her ascent. Finding the most solid footing, she climbed the hill, using the jagged rocks as handholds. Gunfire filled the air, silencing the screams of the enemy. (Y/n) was out of breath when she made it to the top, but she didn’t stop. Most of the fire had stopped, but a few shots still rang out.

At the moment the corpsman reached the other marines at the top of the ridge, her heart sank at the sight of Eugene unholstering his revolver and aiming at a wounded Jap.

“Cease fire!” Mac cried from the other side of the ridge. “Cease fire!”

Gene didn’t care.

“Damn, Sledge. Leave him,” Hamm muttered to the redhead.

Whipping around to face him, Eugene scowled. “What for? He’s a Jap, ain’t he?”

(Y/n) watched in horror as Gene opened fire on the man already wallowing in the mud. He missed the first two shots, but the third hit its mark, hitting the Jap just above his hip. The soldier sunk into the mud face down, his writhing coming to an end.

“Cease fire!” The Lieutenant repeated as he neared them. “Cease fire, damn it!”

Satisfied with his work, Sledge grabbed his rifle from beside Hamm and turned to descend the ridge. When he noticed (y/n) a few yards away, he froze for a moment, his eyes resembling a dark storm cloud that could start down pouring any second. Guilt seemed to cloud his usual hazel eyes, and he looked away, unable to stay steady beneath her gaze after what he’d just done. He then continued down the ridge.

Mac was quick to confront him, gripping his carbine in one hand with white knuckles.

“I told you to cease fire. What are you doing?”

The private spun to face Mac with gritted teeth.“Killing Japs,” he seethed, turning to go down the hill again.

Before he could get far, the lieutenant spoke again. “You just gave away our position!”

“I think they’ve got a pretty good idea of where we are,” Gene chuckled bitterly.

Mac pointed toward the dead Japs. “I told you to cease fire. You’re supposed to be observing, and then I see you with a damn sidearm!

“We were all sent here to kill Japs, weren’t we?” Sledge screamed, climbing back up to be nose-to-nose with his lieutenant. “So what the hell difference does it make what weapon we use?”

(Y/n) couldn’t help but flinch at Gene’s sudden outburst. She’d never seen him like this before, and she wondered what made him finally break. What was the straw that broke the camel’s back? What had happened in the five minutes she was gone?

A tear streaked down her cheek seeing the man she cared about more than anything giving in to the war. Seeing a man be reduced to a shell of who he once was was always heartbreaking, and (y/n) didn’t realize just how much until she witnessed him finally crack.

“I’d use my damn hands if I had to,” he whispered to a frozen Mac, who clenched his jaw and slowly walked past him. (Y/n) was quick to try and follow Gene once he stormed down the hill, but a gentle hand on her shoulder held her back.

It was Burgin, his face scrunched with concern. “Let ‘em cool off, (y/n/n).”

“Romus, he-”

“I know what he means to you,” he interrupted in a whisper as he glanced around them for any eavesdroppers. “But trust me. You need to leave him be for a little bit. Let him think.”

(Y/n) swallowed thickly. “Please don’t tell anyone, Burgie. I could be-”

“Your secret’s safe with me…He needs you, (y/l/n), but give him a few hours.”

Releasing a shuddering breath, her gaze dropped to the ground. “He was fine when I left. What happened?”

“I don’t know. But we did hear him hollering about something right before he went up top.”

“Thanks for everything, Burg,” she sighed, patting his shoulder softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you and the guys.”

A sheepish smile grew on his face, and he chuckled under his breath. “You’d be a lot more ladylike, that’s for sure. The other day, I’m pretty sure I saw you smoking Sledge’s pipe.”

“Whatever,” she groaned, rubbing a hand down her dirty face. “A lot of women actually smoke, ya know?”

The rest of the afternoon did not go according to (y/n)‘s plan, and she was unable to check on Gene after he cooled down. Within an hour of his outburst, she was called back to the field hospital to assist in an all-hands-on-deck emergency following a Jap ambush. The corpsman was up to her elbows in blood, bowels, and every other bodily fluid from vomit to urine. It was a hard night, and it got even worse when a terrible rainstorm moved in, trapping her from returning to her company due to poor visibility.

(Y/n) spent the night, and most of the next day, helping around the hospital. She dressed wounds, administered pain meds, and helped transport men to the hospital ships on a Jeep. A radio call was received that told of the 1st Marine’s plans to take the ridge, and (y/n) knew she needed to be there.

She caught a ride to the ridge just in time for the assault. The men were checking their weapons and quietly conversing with each other as she walked through the various companies. When she reached her squad, however, silence filled the air. They all had thousand-yard stares, and the group was missing two guys who had been there the day before. Her pace slowed as she approached them.

“Hey, guys,” (y/n) said softly, her eyes flicking from man to man. When none of them acknowledged her, she knew something bad had happened. “Where’s Hamm and Peck?”

Silence.

She took a deep breath, trying not to imagine the worst. “Please, guys, whe-”

“Gone,” Gene interrupted harshly, his gaze snapping to hers. “Hamm's dead and Peck’s gone. He cracked.”

(Y/n) felt the all-too-familiar punch of grief knock the air from her lungs. Eugene’s hazel eyes were dark and stormy, even more so than the previous day. She swallowed thickly, attempting to push down the emotion that clogged her throat.

“What happened?” she asked shakily, her eyes never leaving Gene’s.

Before he could respond, Snafu spoke. “Doesn’t matter. They’re gone.”

“Shelton’s right,” Burgin added. “It’s hard, but we’ve got other things to focus on.”

(Y/n) nodded once and dropped her gaze to the group, blinking away the tears that burned her eyes. Two more of their group were gone. Sure, Peck wasn’t her favorite person by any means, but he was still part of their company….on their side. And Hamm…he was a kid. A kid who deserved better than to die in the mud on some foreign island.

They all deserved better.

“Let’s move out!” Mac announced, waving for them to follow.

Each man followed suit, but Eugene hung back to wait on (y/n). Seeing her tear-filled eyes, he instantly regretted opening his mouth. The anger within him seemed to dissipate momentarily as he joined her side.

“Remember, you’ve got a bullseye on your arm,” he murmured, gesturing to the red and white medic brassard on her arm. “Please be careful.”

“I will.” (Y/n) lifted her helmet to look up at him through her lashes. “You take care of yourself, too, alright?”

“Yes ma’am,” he whispered, admiring her features. His eyes trailed from her eyes down to her nose, and then to her lips before flicking back to her (y/e/c) eyes. They stayed locked in each other’s gaze for a few moments, their eyes seeming to have a silent conversation communicating everything that was left unsaid. Gene slowly reached up to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb over her cheekbone. The racing of (y/n)‘s heart wasn’t from the artillery that had begun hammering the ridge, but Eugene’s warm caress against her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed at the gentle touch.

They both wished the moment could last forever.

Another yell from Mac shattered the moment, leaving (y/n) missing the tenderness of his hand in its absence.

“I’ll find you after,” he said, turning around and backpedaling to catch up with his squad. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

The corner of her lips quirked into a smirk. “I’ll leave that to you.”

Once the battle had died down and all the remaining Japanese were either killed or taken prisoner, (y/n) went searching for Gene. When the bullets began to fly, she couldn’t get the boy from Mobile off her mind, and anxiety churned in her stomach as she looked for him. The stench of gasoline, blood, and burnt flesh filled the air along her ascent to the ridge. Bodies of both marines and the enemy lined the narrow path up the hill, and her eyes scanned each one, praying that none of them were the men she’d come to love dearly.

“Burgie, you seen Sledgehammer? He was just over here.”

Hearing the familiar Cajun accent, she spun toward the voice and sighed in relief when she saw Snafu atop an old bunker, his legs swinging as he sat on the edge with a cigarette hanging from his lip. Romus was talking to another sergeant a few feet away, his rifle swung around his shoulder.

“There you are!” (Y/n) called out, reaching up and slapping Snafu’s foot. It was all she could reach from his elevated position on the concrete bunker. “You alright?”

He smiled and raised an eyebrow, blowing a puff of smoke into the humid air. “Not a scratch on me,” he mused. “I don’t know where Eugene is, but don’t worry, I just saw him. He’s okay, too.”

With this news, a wave of calm washed over her, and she let out the breath she’d been holding since they parted. “Thanks, Snaf. I’ll find him.”

“Have fun,” he laughed, waving his cigarette around in front of him. “And do me a favor and fuc-”

This caught Burgie's attention. “Hey!” He interrupted, scolding Snafu like he was a parent whose child was acting up in public. “Cut it out.”

Busting out laughing, Snafu winked at (y/n), who could feel the embarrassment creeping up her cheeks at his intended comment. She raised a hand and flipped him off with a grin before continuing her search for Gene.

It took her a few minutes of wandering to spot his familiar frame among the sea of dirty green uniforms, but when she did, a huge smile painted her face. (Y/n) almost called out to him, but something stopped her.

He was sitting alone on the busted remains of a bunker with his helmeted head in his hands, his weapon lying idle in the dirt beside him. She continued toward him slowly, observing the gentle shake of his shoulders that told her he was crying.

“Hey, Gene,” (y/n) murmured with a softness that matched the gravity of the moment, lowering herself onto the earth beside him. He reacted quickly, averting his gaze and hiding his face as he wiped the tears from his dirt-covered cheeks.

Reaching over, she softly turned his face toward her. After a moment of resistance, he gave in to her gentle touch. His eyes, glistening with unshed tears, met hers. (Y/n)‘s fingertips traced the dirt-streaked paths on his cheeks, her touch a soothing escape from the horror they lived in.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, ducking to meet his eyes. “I’m here.”

Gene’s lip began to quiver, and a stifled sob escaped him as he covered his face with trembling hands. “I’m a monster, (y/n). The things I’ve done…” he strained, moving away from her comforting touch.

(Y/n) watched the play of emotions on his face as he stood up abruptly, throwing an arm out to point to a bombed-out building. The skeletal remains of what once was a home loomed in the smoky haze. “There was a family in there. Now a baby with grow up without a family! I called in the mortars up there! I did that! I’m a monster!”

“No,” she shot up, her voice cutting him off. “You are not a monster, Eugene Sledge. We are at war. We’ve all done terrible things here, but it does not make you a monster. The fact that you’re feeling like you are proves you’re not. It means you’re human, Gene.”

Another tear streaked down his cheek as he clenched his teeth. “After Bill and everyone we’ve lost, I wanted to get them back. I wanted to. You saw me yesterday!”

“Eugene! Look at me!” she ordered, cupping his cheeks as she implored his attention. His gaze wandered everywhere but her face until she spoke again, her tone much softer this time. “Hon, please look at me.”

Tear-filled hazel eyes met hers, and she tugged him a little closer, they’re faces only inches apart. “We all want to get them back. You are not a monster.”

“I don’t know who I am anymore,” he croaked, more tears spilling down his cheeks. “What if this is who I am now?”

“I know exactly who you are. You are Eugene Bondurant Sledge. You’re still that same boy from Mobile, Alabama who loved his dog more than anything, the same one who loved to fish with his father, and the very same one who I fell in love with before we even stepped foot on foreign soil.”

A sob escaped his lips, and his eyes squeezed shut, overwhelmed by her words. “There’s no way you can love me like this. You deserve someone else who-”

“I don’t love anyone else, Gene!” she urged, tears stinging her eyes. “I love you, and I’ll say it over and over, every single day, for as long as it takes to make you believe me.”

Shaking his head, he tried to break free from her touch, but she held on. “I’m not a good man.”

“You are good, Eugene. You are a good man. We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, but it’s how we respond to them that makes us who we are. This right here? It proves you’re a good man.”

Her words seemed to break through in his mind, and he froze for a moment. Pulling off his helmet, he moved (y/n)‘s hands from his face and cupped her cheeks, his red eyes still glossy. “I love you,” he murmured, voice wavering. “And I will spend the rest of my life working to be worthy of you if you’ll let me.”

The tears (y/n) had been holding back filled her eyes, a few of them trickling from her waterline. She nodded in his gentle hold. “You already are.”

He wiped a few tears away softly, a lopsided smile forming on his lips. “You’re too good for this world, darlin’,” Gene cooed. “You always see the good in people. Even me.”

With utmost care, Gene reached up and removed (y/n)‘s helmet, her tousled (y/h/c) spilling out. The fading sun added a soft glow to their faces, emphasizing the exhaustion etched in their features. As he delicately held the helmet aside, Eugene’s eyes met (y/n)‘s, a silent understanding passing between them. He closed the gap, his breath mixing with hers as his eyes lingered on her face, taking in every detail-the mud smudges, the fatigue-as if memorizing each nuance.

With a gentle touch, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was a tender blend of longing and comfort, a quiet promise to stay by the other’s side. In that moment, the world around them ceased to exist. Time slowed as they embraced, finding solace in the simple act of being together at last. The sounds of war faded into the background, replaced by the gentle symphony of two hearts seeking refuge in the warmth of each other’s touch.

[ithinkabouttzu]

Hey could you do a first time with the pacific characters x reader??

First time with the pacific boys

genre! smut; romance

warnings! sexual intercourse, swearing, reader has a hole, just plain filth. *minors please do not interact, 18+ only*

description! The pacific boys (listed below) having sex with you for the first time.

read my disclaimer in my pacific masterlist! Also note that reader is gender neutral.

Eugene Sledge: He would be very soft and gentle with you the whole time. He cares for you so much and handles you as though you could break at any moment. He would lay you down and plant a millions of small, but passionate kisses all over your body softly, taking off your clothing one by one. It would leave you breathless, frozen and barely able to breathe. Singing little words of praise to you over and over until you’re practically begging for him. He would trace every part of your body with his hands, followed along by his lips. When he has made his way inside of you it’s like a fire is lit between you two. The passion that comes from him is amazing. “I love you so much, y/n. Let me show you how much I do”

Sidney Phillips: He’s fun but very sweet with you. Giving you such a sweet and loving smile while he’s practically torturing you with his fingers, tracing his fingers so closely to that sensitive part of you, but not close enough, while also kissing on every inch of your body that he can get his sweet mouth on. He’s so desperate for your touch also, he can’t help the almost pathetic whimpers he makes when you hold his cock in your hands for the first time. And when he finally feels the inside of you it’s almost too much to bear. He’s become pussy-drunk off of you almost instantly. The only instinct being to rut into as good as he can, trying to make you feel amazing. “How much do you want it, my doll. Say you want it as much as I do, please”

Robert Leckie: He really can’t hold himself back from you, even if he wanted to. When he sees you naked on display for him he becomes different (in a good way) almost animalistic when it comes to you. Hunting you down onto the bed and attacking you with his fierce kisses and friendly hands. He intends to leave hickeys all over your precious body. To show everyone who you belong to and love so much. He’s so charming in bed with you. He knows all of the right things to say and to do. When he feels your warmth for the first time he’s at a loss of words, all he can do is moan out sweet nothings to you as he feels you up with his length. Wrecking you with his cock only. “You are amazing sweetheart, just for me, right?”

Lew ‘Chuckler’ Juergens: He’s practically putty in your hands when you tell him that you’d like for him to make love to you. He can’t even began to tell you how many times he’s dreamed of this moment, it’s almost unreal. He’s in shock, amazed and both overwhelmed by your natural beauty. As you take your clothes off for him he can only start to jump to the future, imagining a whole life with you, forever and ever. When you feel his length for the first time his expressions are award-worthy. His moans almost pornagraphic. He finds his way inside of you sooner or later, he finds it hard to hold himself back from fucking your hole sore, and pistoning in and out of you as hard as he can. He starts slow and picks his speed up more and more every minute. “You’re amazing, doll. Just perfect, all for me”

Merriell ‘Snafu’ Shelton: How do I even began to explain the way he would fuck you. He would spend hours rubbing, sucking, licking, and pinching that sensitive spot of yours, over and over again til’ you were a moaning mess. Squeezing and hugging on every part of your body while he begs for you to just cum on his hands, just one more time, then he will make love to you. When he finally does fill you up with his cock, he doesn’t waste time, he’s going at an insane pace, not stopping for nothing in the world and the only thing encouraging him is your loud screams of pleasure. He’s a filthy talker too, saying all sorts of dirty nonsense into your ears while he makes you a mess. “You love it when I fuck you, huh? Such a pretty thing, even prettier on my cock”

John Basilone: He’s quick to undress you from your clothes, and press his face in between the place you need him the most. He will use all of his body to make you feel good. His hands working magic of their own upon your top half, and his mouth on your bottom half, working wonders within you. He doesn’t feel the need to stop until you’re pleading for his cock. And when he finally does decide to show you mercy, he wants to hear you beg for it himself. “c’mon, honey, tell me how bad you need it” when you beg enough to his liking he finds it well enough to shove his cock inside of you, getting a noisy reaction from you in return. He looks amazing while making love to you. The way his biceps look as he’s pinning you down, the small sweat beads falling off of his forehead as he gives you his all. “Let me cum into you, darling. Have all of me please.”

R.V Burgin: He’s a gentleman like he always is. Sweet to you as ever as he finds his way around your body with his hands. He’s kissing you the whole time, never leaving your lips barely once. He enjoys soaking into your love almost too much. He can’t help it, he’s obsessed with your body, and the way you look under him. Yearning for his touch. “Is it alright if I put it in, I promise it won’t hurt” He’s very careful with your body. Holding you as if you were a precious jewel. When he finally starts making love to you it’s unreal, he’s amazing. Just getting to feel your warmth and embrace all of you, is the best thing he could ask for.He’s breathless the whole time, still feeling magical the way you tighten around his cock. “I love you so much, baby. You feel so good around me. Just like that, don’t stop sweetie.”

Wilbur ‘Runner’ Conley: He’s got a sweet smile on his face the whole time you guys are together. How could he not show his excitement for you? He loves you so much and had been waiting for the day to make you his, to fill you with his load, so that only you could be his forever. He makes sure to undress you softly, kissing and holding you like a sweet puppy. “You are an angel, you know that, right?” He’s in awe when he sees you naked. You are absolutely breathtaking. He doesn’t know where to put his eyes, or what he should say other then tell you that you are beautiful over and over again. When he’s inside of you, he’s so passionate and patient for your pleasure first. In his mind, his life’s purpose is to make you completely happy no matter what. It’s his mission to make you finish multiple times.

Bill ‘Hoosier’ Smith: He’s fast with his hands, not restraining himself one bit. He’s tearing off your clothes in an instant. He’s waiting so long for you and he can’t waste any longer for you. His lips are on your chest immediately once your clothes have been stripped from you. Finding his way to your hard nipples and biting them gently. He’s amazing at foreplay, he finds no intent on stopping whatsoever and not even superman could tear him off of you in this moment. When he’s inside of you he turns completely different, primal like, only being able to thrust into you sharply. Holding you up against him as he pushes and pulls himself in and out of you until you’re practically in tears. “I can’t get enough of you, you sweet thing. You feel like heaven”

Again thank you for your request! Sorry for such a delay, i’ve had a hard time writing here recently. If you enjoyed, please like or reblog. Any feedback is appreciated! 🩷

[antigonenikk]

-to the state fair-

Fandom: The Pacific

Pairing: Merriell "Snafu" Shelton/Eugene Sledge

Summary: the mortar squad adopts a mini-horse as their mascot in the first months of okinawa.

“Instead of replying, afraid he might start screaming, he keeps his silence. Head buried in Myrtle’s side, he lets Snafu rub his dirty hand over the nape of his neck, just like he would with the pony. Tender and with too much force. Like he’s not used to gentleness. The panic inside of him does not pass.”

Warnings: bittersweet, mini-horses, tender homoerotic moments

Burgie is the one to find her. She’s tiny. Maybe the tiniest horse Eugene has ever seen. Her head comes up to Gene’s elbow, and her coat is a silky smooth brown. The color of the deer he used to spy on in the forests near his home as a child. At first, no one knows what to do with her. Burgie looks just as lost as the rest of them, holding her wooden bridle, standing in the middle of a muddy road on patrol. But with no fighting going on in those early days, it was quickly decided that she could be allowed to stay at camp with them.

She grew on them quick. Burgie was prone to reading to her before they had to head to their foxholes for the night. Jay, hesitant at first, was constantly checking her feet for injuries, hovering like a mother-hen over her shoulder the minute she seemed thirsty or hungry or tired.

Snafu, Eugene thought, had taken to her the fastest. He seemed to have a supernatural connection to old Myrtle, as they had lovingly dubbed her. In the morning when they all sat down for chow, Snaf could be found leaning against her hide, whispering french into her ear. Before patrol he would pat her on the nose. Once for good luck. Then run back a second time for a quick kiss. The other’s might have razzed him for it, but Myrtle had become their mascot. And each of them loved her with a fierce devotion you reserved only for the dearest of pets. She wasn’t just sweet, but strong too. She would carry boxes of ammo strapped to her back for the squad, meandering down steep inclines with dogged determination. Eugene had never liked horses in particular. But Myrtle was special. She reminded him of a character from an old Jack London story. Hearty and full of love and hope, navigating a world torn asunder by man’s sickness.

One night, he joined Myrtle and Snafu at the cliffside by their camp. Artillery fire could be heard from halfway across the island. But for now, things were peaceful. The sun was setting, gusts of cool air were blowing through the pine trees and into their faces from the Sea. They took turns feeding her sugar rations, petting her muzzle, and talking about home.

‘My mama took me once, to the State Fair. Had a pony like Myrtle there. Not as brave as our gal o’course. But I remember sitting there for an hour. With the goats and sheep and ponies and all. Everyone else, my brothers, went on to the rides. But me and mama stuck together….”

It was said in a lilting drawl. With stops and starts. As if Shelton was scared Eugene was going to judge him for a simple childhood memory. He could feel those eyes on him. Blue and wide and lovely like a girl’s. He wanted to fidget. Wanted to touch. Wanted to be anywhere else. Wanted to move closer to Shelton’s wiry body, radiating heat.

Eugene had never been to the State Fair. Just the circus. But he can imagine going there with Snafu, the two of them. Eating funnel cakes and riding the Ferris Wheel and letting themselves get trampled by little barnyard animals. The thought makes him so homesick he could cry. He feels a bit like Dante, overlooking the entrance to hell. Nowhere to go but down and down and down. He doubts, deep in his heart, that he’ll ever get to see something as simple as the circus again.

Snafu must be able to tell he’s upset. Because when their hands brush over Myrtle’s coat, almost touching, Snafu moves to place his calloused palm on his wrist. Eugene exhales, inhales the scent of pine again. When he turns to look he sees an expression on his friend’s face he knows all too well. More than affection, less than grief. Something beyond loss or desire. Beyond spoken words.

The sky is purple, red and pink striations marking out the warmth of Shelton’s skin. Eugene looks down to Myrtle and wishes they could bring her home together.

‘I’ve never been to the State Fair.’

Snafu cracks a grin at his admission.

‘Yeah?’

He nudges Eugene’s shoulder.

‘I could take you, if you like. When all ‘dis is over.’

He chokes on his own tongue. Lets the moment rest. Can’t let it rest.

‘You think we’re going home?’

A look passes over Snafu’s face then. And it makes Eugene regret ever bringing it up in the first place. Myrtle whinnies and Eugene presses his face to her flank, chilled by his own fatalism.

‘You’re going home, Sledgehammer. You’re going home.’

He says it with such conviction that Eugene can’t possibly contradict him. He says it like he knows it’s true. Like he’s willing to do just about anything to make it happen. It doesn’t make him feel less afraid. He doesn’t want to let go of Shelton. He doesn’t know what he would do if the other man died, especially trying to save him. Because that’s what he means. Shelton doesn’t think he’ll make it. Because he’s determined to die to make sure that Eugene does.

Instead of replying, afraid he might start screaming, he keeps his silence. Head buried in Myrtle’s side, he lets Snafu rub his dirty hand over the nape of his neck, just like he would with the pony. Tender and with too much force. Like he’s not used to gentleness. The panic inside of him does not pass.

Two days later Eugene stares Myrtle down, her black eyes wide open and beseeching, full of uncomplicated love. He gives her a single sugar cube ration. And feels himself tearing up. They march out again today. And everyone has agreed. It’s not safe for her anymore. Not with them. The others have gone ahead, each giving her their own private goodbye. Snafu stands waiting for him, machine gun over his shoulder, a living ghost. Eugene pats her once and places his face to hers. If he closes his eyes, with Myrtle in front of him, and Snafu at his rear, he almost feels like he’s home. Like there is hope for the future. Possibility. He imagines the scent of powdered sugar. The sound of children laughing and carnival rides. The flashing neon lights of a game being won. And then he opens his eyes and the moment is over.

He and Snafu walk in silence, down past the cliffside where they sat together what feels like a lifetime ago. Time bends, and snaps, and comes back together. For a moment, Snafu’s pinky hooks together with his own. Then they separate again, and continue marching. Eugene hopes beyond anything, beyond his own will to live, beyond his desire to see Snafu through the war, that that damned little pony doesn’t die. At least not where he can see it.

[lewis-winters]

🥺 may I ask for Zombie Apocalypse weapon/fighting style for the K company boys? (Ack-ack, Hillbilly, Sledge, Snafu, Burgie, Jay, Leyden)

OF COURSE YOU MAY

1) Merriell Shelton - oh he goes first because you fucking KNOW he pulls a michonne hawthorne and drags around several zombies with their lower jaw and arms cut off tied to several leashes in order to mask his smell from zombie hordes. also? machete for SURE. man's scrappy as all hell he'll go down fighting. he doesn't do guns, but he does do an assortment of knives.

2) Eddie Jones - I just had this really funny mental image of him smashing up several zombie with his guitar. Not a good choice of weapon seeing as it would fall apart easy, but it does go down the direction I think he'd go down, which is swinging stuff around. A metal bat, for sure. He strikes me as a kind of person whose weapons are extensions of himself. A bit like John-Wick-Throwing-A-Gun-At-Someone's-Head-Once-He-Runs-Out-Of-Bullets kinda vibe, ya know? He'd also have a gun, but just a small one. Backup.

3) Andrew Haldane - Ooof, ok definitely a rifle of some kind, but small. I also contemplated pistol, which I think he does carry, too. But that's like a back-up thing. He has a lot of back-ups on him. Andy's thing, I think, as their leader, is to appear as non-threatening as possible to anybody on the outside, because I feel like he holds true to his morals and belief that there isn't anyone he can't win over? He has his boys to back him up, in case shit goes down, but he's also not stupid, he knows he has to carry something. So I think he carries small pistols, like a revolver or a glock. A knife in his boot. Things easy to hide and are probably last resort use. That kinda thing.

4) RV Burgin - oh definitely the rifle. practical, quick, big enough that even without ammo it's a weapon in and of itself. He fights very by the book, Burgie, as if he's at a war with Geneva Conventions to adhere to and not in the middle of a zombie apocalypse. He's like a well oiled machine, just point him somewhere and off he goes. Also very adaptable, as I said, he can use his rifle even without ammo and he won't hesitate to use anything else around him, too.

5) Jay de L'eau - I just keep thinking Bazooka, since that's what we saw him use in the airfield, but I like to think Bill would get those big ones, ya know? Jay would probably get his hands on a big one and then kinda just ditch it for something smaller and more manageable in tight spaces BUT is also still long distance, like a crossbow! it's long distance, but it's silent and easy to reload. obviously he'll have to scrounge up the arrows, but I have a feeling he knows how to make his own, too.

6) Bill Leyden - SOMEBODY GIVE THIS BOY A FLAMETHROWER not even for practical reasons you just fucking KNOW he'd be fantastic on a flamethrower!! he'd have the time of his life let him have a flamethrower. maybe even a bazooka. it'd be so cool.

7) Eugene Sledge - um. where do you think the nickname Sledgehammer came from in this AU? of fucking course the boy is smashing up zombie brains with a massive sledgehammer. not quite as gracefully or fluidly as Hillbilly, since there's so much weight at the end of his weapon as compared to a metal bat, BUT there's fucking INTENT in all his swings. that's the primal rage. sometimes, I feel like he'd go after these suckers with his bare hands. He'd have something traditional at first, though, like his hunting rifle from his dad. and lowkey? I also think he'd use Deacon as a weapon. I mean, I'm aware that he's a herding dog, but push comes to shove, I think he'd take advantage of the dog's protective nature just a bit? Like he definitely would allow Deacon to go for the jugular from time to time, like if they're cornered? yeah, I could imagine that.

[televisionboy]

southern boys flirting • the pacific

[imaginesbymk]

[x] REQUESTED BY ANONYMOUS

SNAFU whistled, his hands stained with not blood, sweat or dirt, but with the soft pastel colours of paint as he held up his Easter egg. “Would ya look at mine?” he smiles as if he had struck gold. “Pretty as a daisy.”

To his left, Eugene took a good look and nodded in agreement before looking at his own; patterned with a different palette. “There’s a tiny artist in you, Snaf. I didn’t know you had it in ya.”

His friend laughs.

“Let’s hope Deacon doesn’t eat yours, Sledge.” You smiled over at him. The three of you continued to work intensively, bracing for a sudden finger painting battle with two grown men.

[imaginesbymk]

“Babydoll.”

The Pacific One Shot

Summary: On the train back home, Snafu has his eye on you, and you’re playing hard to get. But he’s a Marine, he won’t go down without a fight.

Pairing: Merriell “Snafu” Shelton x Fem!Reader

Non Requested

Tags: swearing, smoking, mentions of war/violence & one mention of an ethnic slur

Word Count: 1,330

Author’s Note: i had so much fun writing this!!! i love rami malek and i love him as snafu. anyways, i added the pacific to my fandom list!! pls give this a like/reblog + feedback <333

THE train moved in one direction. You had gotten used to boarding without your legs feeling like noodles wobbling with each step you took in the boxcar. As much as you had plenty of time to arrive at your destination, it was going to take hours, actually, you hurried down the aisle, hoping to find a good seat to look out the windows and watch the sun follow you until it was time to let the moon take its turn.

But the sounds of someone calling in your direction made you freeze.

“Damn, babydoll!” Just your luck. A catcall. You prepared yourself for a run in with some guy you clearly had no interest in, someone who doesn’t even know you to boldly talk to you like that. And so, you turned. 

The boy grinning at you looked to be around your age. He had fine small curls in his dark hair and he wore a uniform. “You’re looking fine as hell today. How ‘bout I take you to the back of the train and you can show me your caboose?”

Smack! Your hand glided across the stranger’s cheek, his expression quickening than the rate of the train going hundreds of miles per hour. That seemed to catch several passengers’ attention as you felt a bunch of eyes burning onto you and the boy you had slapped in the face.

The boy stood there, stunned, massaging the spot where it hurt. Small chuckles and gasps from the passengers piled up, and you turned away and marched to the next boxcar down.

“Feisty!” he watches you leave as he pulls out a chair.

“Ah, leave her alone, Snafu.” There were two other boys sitting from the table he was at, all wearing the same uniform.

“Why not? I’m gonna get that girl,” he said so confidently. “Otherwise she’ll be the one that got away.”

You plopped at a booth in the third row, trying your best to distract your annoyance by watching the beautiful view of the horizon. You lost your appetite, as though that boy would have followed you and made more sly remarks about you eating in front of him, whether they were sexual and gross. 

Hours passed until the late afternoon breached, and you finally got over the tiny encounter. Assuming he had reached his stop a long time ago, you smiled a bit in relief that you’d never see him ever again, and you would continue your travels safely without anything or anyone getting in the way.

So you stood up and entered the same boxcar to buy a coca-cola, and boy, were you wrong.

The man at the counter slides the glass bottle. “That’s 75 cents.”

You reached in your purse to grab your wallet-

“Don’t you waste a dime, darling. It’s on me.” That goddamn accent. Your eyes bulged when you saw the uniform, that stupid sly grin, tracking you from the corner of his eyes as he hands the worker a dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

He leaned against the marble counter and winked at you. “We meet again.”

Sighing, you grabbed the bottle. It was a nice gesture, but at what cost? “Thanks for the drink.”

“Oh, anything for you. So what’s your name, pretty lady?”

You ignored him and walked away. You couldn’t bother. In fact, you’d be thanking yourself for dodging a bullet. He’s the kind of boy your father would warn you all about, who to stay away from and to assure you’re better off without a delinquent like him.

“Eh, c’mon!” he calls. 

“Lay off,” you said.

The boy scoots through the aisle, nearly knocking over someone’s beer bottle on their table. He dismissed the annoyed look from them. “What’s wrong with me?”

“You’re cocky,” you kept walking, your tone so deadpanned. “Y’know, some girls prefer guys who are nice to them?”

“Don’t assume that. I can be a nice guy,” he says. “Hell, I could’ve made you pay for your coca-cola.”

“You paid for my 75 cent soda with a whole dollar bill.” The train came to a halt, and you grabbed your coat from your booth and descended down the steps, taking a sip of your drink. Your shoes touched gravel. You were breathing in the toxic fumes of the steam that filled up the air. You have finally reached your destination, and you hoped your heels would do you justice in walking fast so the boy wouldn’t be able to find you.

“Jesus, you’re fast. Hey!” he sprints down the crowded boxcar. He had his giant bag slung around his shoulders and he smiled as he followed you down the station, “Wait up, babydoll!”

“That’s not my name,” you say.

“You won’t tell me what your name is, so I’m sticking with babydoll.”

You noticed he never looked at the destination sign. “Is this even your stop?” you asked.

“No,” he was walking beside you now. “But wherever you go, ma chérie, I will follow like a lost pup.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Maybe,” he smiled, placing a cigarette in between his lips. “Here, how ‘bout this. I’ll tell you my name if you tell me yours. It’s a proper introduction and a good way to start.”

“Start what?”

“A conversation.” And he extends a hand. “My name is Merriell Shelton.”

Here goes something. “I’m Y/N,” you shook his hand. “Y/N Y/L/N.”

“What a beautiful name,” he said in awe. He took out his lighter and lit his cigarette in front of you, taking a drag and puffing one out. “So where are you headed?”

You stifled your cough as you fanned the disgusting cigarette smoke from your face. “I’m visiting family. I didn’t think I’d be bringing someone with me until now.”

“Family, huh?” Merriell smiled. “Well, this isn’t too far from my home.”

“Louisiana,” you two walked together at the front gates. “I recognized the accent. You’re returning home from the war?”

He nods. “I’m blessed to have the chance to come home from killing Japs. But once I saw you... well like I said, wherever you go, I will follow.”

“But why?”

“You’re a sight for these sore eyes, Miss Y/L/N.”

“You’d do all of that for a girl you just met on a train and made a gross sex comment to?” you chuckled. “You know you left your friends back there, right?”

Merriell shrugged. “They won’t miss me.”

“Mr. Shelton, you know you gotta head home and relax, maybe celebrate by drinking and partying, maybe coming home to a hot meal, sleeping soundly and warm in a bed. I can’t provide all of that.”

“At least let me spend time with you before we both feel like it’s time for me to catch the next train to New Orleans. How ‘bout a date before or after you see your family?”

You smiled. Now this is what you wanted. “I’m sorry, but my family comes first. You should stay here and catch the next train, Mr. Shelton.” 

His smile drops to an annoyed frown. “Seriously?”

“Go home. You just came back from fighting in blood, sweat and tears.” You rummage through your purse and pull out a pen and an old receipt that was no longer in use, and you scribbled onto the margins your name, address and your number. “Hope you can read that.”

Merriell’s eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning. “I’ll crawl on the train tracks just to see that smile.”

You indeed smiled at him in response, a smile he will picture every night before falling asleep. “No, you won’t.” The train whistle blared and departed down the tracks, which meant he had to wait a while for the next one to come. “Have yourself a goodnight, marine.” And you walked away. 

Merriell smiled, watching you wave down a taxi. “Damn right I will.” 

You knew he was right, though. Of course he was right, he believed that he would see you again.

[imaginesbymk]

[x] NON REQUESTED

“DAMN, y/n. You look like you sprayed diarrhea all over yourself,” Snafu commented. 

“Shut the fuck up, Snafu!” you exclaimed, knowing it was useless to swipe the gunk of mud off your pants.

“I swear, you gotta be a Looney Tunes character to slip on mud like that!” Snafu re-enacted your accidental slip up by flailing his arms around and swinging his leg up, causing the men surrounding each perimeter to laugh loudly.

The entire company erupted in a chorus of laughter, watching you stumble back on your feet.