#speirs x reader
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bellewintersroe · 10 months ago
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Ron Speirs x ArmyNurse! OC.
Margaret ‘Maggie’ Emerson, an army nurse attached to the 506th parachute infantry regiment, finds herself growing closer to her company’s captain, Ronald Speirs. With war drawing to an end, a side to the mystery that is Captain Speirs is revealed. Both Maggie and Ron have a difficult time resisting their attraction to one another.
This is my new slow burn mini-series. I’m not sure how many parts this will include but I’m excited to write, hope you enjoy!
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Maggie tugged off her headscarf, hands trembling, scrubbed raw as she sat herself outside the make-do field hospital. The casualties in Austria weren’t half as bad as she’d witnessed in places like Normandy or Bastogne. But every now and then somebody would slip through the cracks, and she’d loose track of time caring for them. In this circumstance an older German officer, no SS uniform, an emotional man. When she offered him powdered milk he cried.
The older man didn’t survive the surgery she assisted in. Her promotion to a surgical nurse had come with its downfalls. He’d bled out internally, right in front of her, she felt so out of her depth watching the surgeons practically give up. Maggie felt guilty for becoming all bleary eyed. It was understandable when they were knee deep in war and casualties, but right now it was a breeze compared to that.
“Nurse?” A gentle voice rung out just as her head dropped. Maggie straightened her back, swallowing harshly. “Captain Speirs.” She offered him a polite nod.
“Are you ok?” He blinked back to her, overtly aware of how her bottom lip quivered when she looked back to him. Truthfully, Ron didn’t like seeing any woman cry. At least not her. His professionalism remained in tack throughout the war, and it would continue to do so- but there was something about the nurse who sat before him that made him want to… soften.
“I’m- I’m good, sir.” She searched for the words, forcing a weak smile that Ron could read anywhere. He rummaged in his pocket, pulling the pack of Camel’s out and offering her a cigarette.
“Thank you, sir.” She weakly muttered as he sat down besides her with a breathy groan, pulling out the lighter. Her hands lifted, shielding the wind not-so-well. Ron muttered to himself, raising his other hand to cover hers. When he lit the end, he accidentally allowed his gaze to run over her downcast gaze. “It’s the end of the war.” He commented, blunter than it intended to. Surely everything should be improving?
She let out a soft laugh, inhaling on the cigarette. “For now.” Deployment to Pacific somehow seemed even more terrifying knowing what was coming. When she entered Normandy she was somewhat clueless to everything she’d see- that was somewhat grateful for that or she would’ve never jumped off that boat onto the sandy beaches.
Ron turned, jaw clenched as he sat beside her quietly. Obviously in a need of comfort he didn’t know what else to provide, he somewhat panicked she wouldn’t like her Captain being there, that he made her uneasy or intimidated. Maggie didn’t mind. She turned her head, looking over his dark features. He was well groomed, he even smelt good, a handsome man- painstakingly handsome. For her own good, she turned away.
“In off duty now- I’m not just… taking a break.” Becoming acutely aware that it actually was Captain Speirs, she informed him rather quickly.
“Even if you were, there’s nothing wrong with that.” He made sure to assure, knowing how tirelessly the nurses worked.
“What time did you start?”
“4.”
“This afternoon?”
“No.”
Ron glanced at her, mouth slightly agape. He was ready to protest her hard working before realising it wouldn’t be the smartest idea.
“I’ll walk you back.” She was a little surprised at his words. She knew he was only offering to be polite, but it was his way of effectively saying ‘home time’.
“Sir, you don’t have to.”
“I want to.” Ron spoke without thinking first, their eyes meeting. When they did, she instinctively followed him, legs feeling like jelly from the long day she’d been on them. Was it that or the fact Captain Ronald Speirs was walking her back?
After a brief moment of comfortable silence, Ron spoke again. “S’ a long day for you… how’d ya lose track of time, exactly?” He muttered, cigarette between his lips as he lit it effortlessly.
“Surgery. We were operating on a German officer.” Ron glimpsed at her again, wondering if she thought it was a good or bad thing. “Yeah, he died, so…” her shoe kicked against a slightly bigger rock below, used to her combat boots, she didn’t expect to stub her toe, wincing silently at her clumsy move.
“I’m sorry.” Ron muttered, an odd sense of relief running through her. Nobody else had been so bothered that this man lost his life, purely because he was German. It didn’t mean he wasn’t still a human.
“Why?” She asked, instinctively wanting to know why he, an American officer cared. “Well I don’t think anyone wants to see anybody dying anymore.”
“The surgeons didn’t seem so bothered.”
“What?”
“The surgeons.” She paused, looking up to the man before her. “They don’t care what a nurse has to say, not when it comes to a German.” Ron paused, watching her beginning to walk again. His brows winced together slightly and he slowly followed her, inhaling on his cigarette.
“Want me to speak to them?” He offered. “No, thank you. You shouldn’t have to ask for humanity in a surgeon of all people. I mean he even cried over powdered milk for Christ sake.”
“Who?”
“The German officer, he cried over powdered milk that I gave him.” Maggie spoke on a sigh before continuing. “You know the-the young ones don’t even crack a wince in pain, they refuse morphine, but the older ones they’re softer, they cry easier. I don’t understand it, sir.” She broke off in a slight tangent.
“Hitlers Youth.” Ron rasped in response to her words. He’d seen it, the ruthlessness of the young men he came so close to. On the lines they were fearless, tough, almost untouchable- “Brainwashed.” Maggie sighed, staring up to the night sky above. She’d finished his train of thought.
“Uh huh.” Ron agreed and she turned to him again, realising who she was with, telling her story to. That’s your Captain. Maggie stood up straighter again, averting her gaze. “Sorry sir, I shouldn’t be rambling to you.”
“It’s Margaret right?” He avoided her nonsense apology and spoke up, almost feeling a little nervous. A genuine smile finally cracked on her face, Ron was confused to hear her laugh. “Maggie. I forget Margaret’s even my name.” She mocked herself.
“Maggie.” Ron corrected, feeling his eyes scan over her shorter frame. Truthfully he’d seen her around, she was beautiful, there was no denying, caring, loyal, courageous- Ron knew all this but he’d never been close to the nurses, often working elsewhere towards the front of the lines. It wasn’t until he was promoted to Easy Company and they entered Germany and Austria did he begin working closer with them.
Maggie smiled again, looking back to the area ahead as they drew closer to where she was staying. Stealing another glance, she felt her heart jump from nerves seeing he was doing the same thing. “I’m just staying over there, that building on the right.” She babbled what felt like nonsense.
Ron nodded, scoping out the quiet area. “Probably not as nice as where you are.” Maggie added, wringing her headscarf between her hands. “Looks nice to me.” Speirs commented as they grew closer to where she was bunked.
“Thank you for walking me back, sir, I appreciate it.” She nodded, feet hitting the concrete below. Maggie felt her cheeks warm as they slowed to a full stop, she inhaled another puff of her cigarette, seeing him watch the faint smoke cloud swirl into the air above her.
Ron opened his mouth, eyes landed back on hers. She was stood so politely, a little shyly, he watched as she toyed her hands around the blue fabric in her hands. For the second time, he worried he made her nervous, scared as they walked back together in the night. That was the last thing he wanted, especially with her.
“If the surgeons give you anymore trouble, let me know.” He watched the corners of her lips pick up further.
“Thank you sir.” He offered her a smile as she turned back to where she was staying. “Ron…” he muttered, voice barely audible.
“Sorry, sir?” She spun back around. Ron felt his chest tighten and he swallowed thickly. “Just call me Ron.”
Nodding, she offered him a gentle grin, “okay. G’night, Ron.” Hearing the name fall from her lips had him smiling. Maggie wasn’t sure if she’d even heard of Captain Speirs smile before, never mind seen it. He nodded and she hesitantly headed back inside, putting out the cigarette before she closed the door behind her.
“Evening.” She nodded to the men guarding the house, they both appeared young, just replacements. “Evening, ma’m.” When she arrived to the apartment she shared with two other nurses they both jumped from the window giddily.
“Captain Speirs is outside.” Nora turned around in surprise as Maggie’s head lifted, placing her bag to one side on the kitchen tabletop.
“Yeah?” She gently responded. “Uh huh, we saw you talking to him. What were you getting, a lecture about entering the Eagles nest?”
“Or was it that you got completely fried when we were up there.” The second girl, Janet snickered deviously.
“No! And no! Everybody else was just as sauced- thank you very much, Janet!” Maggie sassed, taking her cardigan off and placing it into the laundry basket. “He walked me back. He’s actually really nice.” Maggie defended.
“Don’t tell me you’re doing the dirty with Captain Speirs out of everybody?” Nora’s brows raised. “Oh my god, Maggie!” Janet bounced.
“No! I’ve barely spoke to him apart from tonight!” She glanced back out of the window, watching Captain Speirs slip back inside his own billeted house across the square. She pursed her lips, smiling a little before looking back up to the girls.
“Well he is a total dreamboat, a little scary, Mag’s, but whatever floats your boat.” Nora shrugged. “It’s scary how nice he is.” Maggie muttered, captivated by the interaction she had. He almost made her forget about the terrible day she’d just had.
Maggie had always lived in fantasy land, before the war that was. She found herself daydreaming often, thinking about boys. She was used to the attention of lots of boys, both back home and throughout the war- but Captain Speirs was different. He was a man, she hadn’t felt so… gooey inside since she was a teenager, pre-war. Somehow he made all that excitement come back, it was fascinating.
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saintmalosunsets · 8 months ago
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For all the Speirs girlies, I found a long, high quality, complete Speirs fic on FFN
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1waveshortofashipwreck · 9 months ago
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Hey Em how are you? Soooo can I request a ship? I'm Jess (she/her), im in my late 20s, I'm 5 ft 3, I have short (peaky blinders style hehe) dark brown hair and light brown eyes, as far as I know (I did the test once) my MTBI is INTJ??? I consider myself a cat person, but I also like dogs too, what else? Oh I really love outdoor activities such as hiking because I love nature, rocks and maps!!! I'm a bookworm, kinda nerdy and really musical fueled person and my faves are jazz, bossa nova and classic rock music (as you know). My love language is probably small acts of service and tiny little stuff here and there and I can't think anything else interesting to tell you :(
AAAAAAAAA HI JESS!!!! I'm sorry it took me so long to get to your ship 😅🫠 thank you for being so kind and patient!! I had a lot of fun writing this one lol 😆 Love you and hope you enjoy!!
I ship you with...
Ron Speirs!
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A song from my playlist that reminds me of y’all’s relationship - You’re My Best Friend by Queen
How you met
So I’m picturing you’re part of WAC and assigned to be an administrator/runner person with Easy Company
It’s towards the end of the war in Hagenau
Ron was getting frustrated with all the paperwork bullshit he needed to do as Easy Company’s new CO
He was in his makeshift office trying to filter through papers when he heard a knock
“What is it?” He all but barks at the intruder
You come in and all of a sudden the paperwork doesn’t matter
For one thing, he is FLOORED
Your hair and eyes are just fucking striking, and you had this air about you
Usually everyone was intimidated by Ron, especially when first meeting him, but you didn’t seem put off in the slightest - you held your own
“Captain Speirs, here are the documents you requested, and a couple of others from Regiment”
He had to compose himself before opening his mouth, otherwise his tongue probably would’ve rolled onto the floor
“Thank you Sergeant… will that be all?”
Usually you were the one to ask that question, but Ron wasn’t really ready for you to leave the room
“Um, yes sir”
“Alright, dismissed”
Later that day he phoned Regiment and asked for you to be assigned as his orderly
How he knew he loves you
So you’ve been working as Ron’s orderly for a while, and the two of you work like a well-oiled machine
Like Easy Company has never been so efficient and organized
The two of you almost seemed to have your own code, and it bewildered everyone in Easy Company
How were you not afraid of him? And How were you able to tell him what to do?
You had grown to like Ron a little more than a Sergeant should like an officer, but you never acted on it
So y’all are in Austria and everyone is getting excited to go home
Ron was in a similar mindset, but then he realized
All of his daydreams about being home involved you
How the fuck did you wind your way into his mind? What was he going to do? Was he really going to ask you to come home with him? If not, could he live without you?
“Ron!”
Your voice snapped the officer back to reality, but soon he was lost again
He was looking into your eyes, displaying a certain passion he had never seen before
It was now or never
Ron walked to where you were, on the other side of his desk, put his hands on your shoulders, and gently but confidently pressed his lips to yours
Time stopped while the two of you kissed, and neither of you could believe it was really happening
“Come back to Boston with me, Jess,” he asked you quietly, only pulling away enough to ask the question
Your brain was still going a million miles a minute, but you were able to focus enough to say
“Yes sir”
A conflict that arose and how y’all solved it
So you like to have your introvert time outdoors, and you usually let Ron know if you’re going to go on a hike or something
When you woke up Ron had already gotten up and out of bed, when you went out to the kitchen Ron was there with a cute lil bedhead making breakfast
You wrapped your arms around his slutty lil waist and planted a kiss on his shoulder “Morning, sunshine”
He smiled and turned around to wrap his arms around you and place a lil kiss on your nose “Morning doll, you going on your hike today?”
“Yeah, I’m trying a new trail, but I’ll be home before dark”
“Alright, you be safe for me”
“Yes sir”
So you go on your hike and it’s a fun little trail but it takes longer than you anticipated and it’s a couple of hours after sunset by the time you get home
You open the door and you notice Ron pacing in your living room
He sees you open the door and locks eyes with you, and his eyes are angry
“Where the fuck have you been!?”
You stood there for a moment like a deer in the headlights
“I was… on my hike…”
“You said you’d be home before sunset! It’s almost 11!” Ron yelled, he’s never yelled at you before and it was something you hoped never to experience again
“I-it took longer than I thought Ron… I’m sorry…” You were trying to keep a calm and level voice, but Ron just seemed so upset
Ron heard the tone in your voice and automatically knew he was being rather harsh
He bit his lip in frustration and looked around the room, tapping his foot anxiously
“I read a story in the paper today after you left, there were a couple of hikers that disappeared on a trail near here…”
His voice was quiet, almost cracking?
“I…I was scared when you didn’t come home…”
Ron looked up at the ceiling, begging the tears not to fall from his eyes
Your heart just sank as you ran over to him, enveloping him in a hug
“Oh Ron, I’m so sorry, the trail was just longer than I thought”
He buried his face in your neck as quiet sobs left his mouth
The two of you just stood there for a moment, holding each other close
“I don’t want to ask you not to go on hikes, Jess, but the idea of you just disappearing is terrifying…”
“How about you come with me on my next one?” You put your hands on his cheeks and gently turn his face to look into his eyes
He smiles softly at your suggestion and nods his head
The two of you share a soft kiss before settling in for the night
Your happily ever after (what your relationship looks like!)
This man does everything for you and there’s nothing you can do to stop him
Breakfast? Made and plated when you get out of bed
Dishes? Done yesterday
Your car broke down? He drives you to work and takes your car to the shop
Literally Ron would do absolutely anything for you
Sometimes though you beat him to something (like you do the dishes before he gets to it) and he’s just so… moved?
Like the idea of someone doing something for him is just so foreign so when you cook dinner or do the laundry he just falls in love with you all over again
A silly headcannon about your relationship!
So you tell Ron you consider yourself a cat person
Sweet boy decides to get you a kitten for your birthday
He has no idea where to even begin with it though
He enlists the help of *drunk Speirs voice* LIEUTENANT LIPTON
He picks the most adorable, affectionate kitten EVER and keeps it at Lipton’s place until it’s your birthday
The morning of your birthday he’s arranging everything to be super cute and sweet and decorated when you wake up - I’m talking balloons on your chair, special birthday pancakes, the works
He snuck out last night to pick up the kitten so he could give her to you later in the afternoon
But the sweet baby escapes her carrier and makes her way into the kitchen
You wake up to a loud crash and run to the kitchen
The kitchen is in tatters and Ron is out of breath sitting on the floor, covered in maple syrup and the kitten sleeping on top of his head
He sees you and you SWEAR there’s a blush on his cheeks
“Happy birthday darling,” he offers in a defeated tone
All you can do is laugh before kneeling next to Ron (and take a Polaroid of him with the kitten)
“Who’s this lil baby?” You ask as you take the sleepy kitten in your arms
“Your birthday present…”
Your eyes just light up and you look down at your new fur baby before pulling Ron into a tight hug (forgetting he’s covered in maple syrup)
“Do you like your gift love?”
“Yes sir”
Thank you again for the request Jess!!! Hope you enjoyed it 💕🩷✨
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obessedwithfictionalmen · 11 months ago
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✨️Masterlist 1✨️
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John Egan:
I'll come pick it up after / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / End /
Did you just kiss me?
Alright, bet!
Protect You
Back to black
Until you come back home / 2 /
Stop trying to feel everything
Inventor
Soft and prude
Small space
Run!
You want my jacket?
Kiss me before you leave
I hate / love you
Princess and the fool
I have a plan
You're like me, but better
New Girl
Never felt so...
Too Sweet
Chicken
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Callum Turner:
Co- Stars / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / 18 /
Qué serà serà
Finals season
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Joe Rantz:
Training / 2 /
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Theseus Scamander
Young, dumb in love
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Curtis Biddick
Daylight
Your idiot?
You have to live
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Gale Cleven
Told you she was real
Who did this to you?
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Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal
Therapist
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Ronald Speirs
Disguise
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John Brady
Misunderstanding
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Austin Butler
Fame / 2 / 3 / 4 /
Eugene Roe
Bastogne
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thanosgf · 5 months ago
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band of brothers • behind the scenes pt. 2
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speirslore · 1 year ago
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band of brothers: types of kisses hc
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(a/n: sorry this is so long… i tried to include a lot of easy company... but if your fav isn't here, please just send an ask and i'll add them!)
send an ask if you would like to be on my taglist! :) (taglist: @ronsparky)
[dick winters]
cautious kisses
dick does not like pda only because he's extremely private and wants your relationship to be for the two of you only... no matter how nosy nix is
but there still are occasional kisses to your cheek when he’s more relaxed in front of other officers
he's tender and careful too; dick is always cupping your face, a thumb brushing across your cheek or brushing hair away from your face
dick is always very gentle and a little unsure at times
especially at the beginning of your relationship, he feels incredibly inexperienced, or at the very least, out of practice
he’s very okay with you taking the lead when kissing because he doesn't want to do anything wrong
dick is tentative and private but very into it... it's a good thing he has an insane amount self discipline because otherwise he would be kissing you 24/7
[lewis nixon]
speaking of self discipline… lew does have it but he also chooses to ignore it most of the time, if he wants to kiss you then he's going to kiss you
so many morning kisses
honestly just anytime in bed because lew plays fast and loose with 'morning' and sleep cycles
absolutely never wants to get up, has to be coaxed with a lot of kisses and cuddling, it is a huge ordeal
he always kisses with some degree of mess, a little uncontrolled, perhaps a little desperate
a lot of sudden kisses too like you think you're safe and then boom he’s all of the sudden in the room, pulling you towards him
will take advantage of any opportunity no matter how small... does he have any shame? (no, not really)
lew does shockingly get a little shy sometimes about pda though
“i don’t want to rub it in their faces…" he'll insist, "y'know... what they don’t have”
sureeee... the blush on his cheeks says otherwise though
[carwood lipton]
carwood's speciality is definitely comforting kisses
lip is always paying attention to you and what you need and how you feel and that extends to physical affection
always wants you to feel okay, better than okay, great
and if a kiss can make you feel better then he’s more than willing to oblige
affection between the two of you is every casual and common, always kissing, holding hands, some sort of physical touch
constantly smiling in between kisses
he’s just that happy and loves you so much
but the comforting kisses & affection goes both ways
kissing the stress and worry away from his face and tracing his scar with your thumb before kissing it gently, your noses almost touching after you pull away to catch your breath, the two of you wearing twin smiles
and whenever you say goodbye or reunite, you both try not to make a scene, but it's always a little bit of a scene tbh... like having to be without carwood's kisses for a week is basically criminal
all the other men think it's extremely cute though, don't worry
[ron speirs]
stolen kisses (haha)
even his kisses are stolen!
he will always come out of nowhere and will always find time for a smooch
every time you think surely ron isn't in this area, he's supposed to be somewhere else, he's not in this building... you are proven wrong
is incredibly good at carving out time to see you... and finding private places for the two of you
like he's definitely scoped a few places out before he goes to find you
one time you were in his office kissing and someone knocked on the door and he huffs and pouts because he has to break away from you, even if it's only for a second- he's not happy about it
ron barks out, “not now," before returning to you will a warm, soft smile
heavy on kisses instead of words
ron is very physical...whenever you finally pull away from a kiss... you can always see things/emotions in his eyes that you know he's not ready to say yet and finds difficult to articulate
[don malarkey]
soooo many shy kisses
okay yes, don is kind of unhinged (stealing a motorcycle, drinking methanol, etc) but not with relationships... like flirting?? kissing??
he's still incredibly enthusiastic about your relationship... very much so
but he gets really shy around you, especially with kissing
turns beet red so easily, like you love kissing him and pulling away to see him blushing all the way up to the tips of his ears <3
it's just so fun and he's having a great time... and don cannot hide his emotions or what he’s thinking so whatever he's thinking always comes out when you're kissing
"god, you're beautiful. you should bring this dress to paris when we go next weekend. oh- y'know what, skip still owes me that $40 i lent him. i really need that for next week's pass so-"
"don," you interrupt gently, brushing a hand across his jaw
he'll blush and smile sheepishly, "right, i'm shutting up, back to kissing..."
he's shy yet so excited and wants to do everything right, willing to learn and wants to learn, and just wants his inner emotions and love for you translate with physical affection
and it definitely does! don is extremely endearing and you love him for it
[joe toye]
joe's kisses are always very intense
his eye contact, his touch, his raspy voice… everything is intense in the best way possible
his hands already feel like fire, so warm against your own skin
he loves just laying next to you in bed, just observing you and taking it all in
his passion definitely goes along with the intensity
he's also extremely private about affection with you, just because it means so much to him
tends to get vulnerable and emotional very easily
and really likes pillow talk and just listening to your voice, your stories, and your perspective
he likes your reassurance too, your love, he's never felt anything like this before
so whenever he can manage to have free time alone with you, he's always savoring it
joe could kiss you for hours, he truly loves taking it all in, going slow, and savoring the time you have together
[george luz]
late night kisses are a staple for the two of you
george gets so excited being with you he doesn't want to sleep
the biggest sleepover vibes
like you both very seriously decide to go to bed but then george says something funny or does his dike impression and then you both start laughing and talking again
and kissing again, sometimes the impressions are so good you have to reward him
you guys have a lot of late nights because of this
also do kisses for warmth and sharing body heat count?
huddling in a foxhole together, in the thick of it together, like yes they don't have much food, supplies, or ammo but george is not going to let them take kisses away from him too
oh my god, laughing in between kisses
sometimes he really can’t take himself that seriously
george is like don and gets very excited
he just feels so lucky to have you and has to kiss you accordingly
kissing you and just being with you can make him a little emotional… a happy little high
cigarettes have nothing on you and your kisses!
[babe heffron]
babe is kind of like a baby deer, he's a little clumsy and sometimes unsure but he's definitely got the spirit
he is confident but he does tend to second guess himself when it comes to you, he just doesn't want to mess anything up.
like what if he uses too much tongue or he headbutts you on accident... he's just overthinking it
and sometimes you just have to grab his arm and pull him toward you and kiss him yourself
when you're alone, babe lovesss laying on your chest letting you run your fingers through his hair and kissing his forehead... but don't tell anyone
jk he doesn't care if anyone knows (and they absolutely do know)
and the guys can't even tease him that hard about it, that's much everyone loves babe... they're just happy for him tbh
babe definitely gets a little needy sometimes like where’s his daily kiss allotment :(
and he can get clingy... will 100% wrap his arms around, you pressing kisses to your neck and shoulder just because he hasn't seen you that much today
[eugene roe]
tired kisses are a doc roe staple
poor eugene, he's exhausted and jaded... a lot of the time… and the rest of the company gives the two of you space as often as they can because they know how much your presence helps him
tired kisses as in he is putting in effort but his lips don't move as fast or as needy
he's more languid and calm, and it's very enticing
forehead kisses too omg
he lovesss when you kiss his forehead; pull him against your body, your chest, your arms and he feels safe and secure
he likes kissing the top of your head too, his nose in the crown of your hair while murmuring something in french
you catch various words in french that after spending so much time with gene you can understand now
like mon ange, mon amour, ma moitié (my better half? sobbing)
your presence is so grounding for him and makes him feel more normal, like he's not constantly surrounded by death and pain
you make him feel like he doesn't have to be constantly on edge, like he can take his helmet off and not be on alert, like he hasn't totally lost himself in his job... your kisses are so grounding for him
[buck compton]
a lot of reassuring kisses
like sometimes he just has to kiss the worry off of your face
and vice versa, towards the end of the war it's not even just kisses but your presence and touch alone become extremely reassuring for him
but also... buck can be so cocky sometimes, he loves showing you off
you secretly (not so secretly) love it... like sorry it's hot
like once when the two of you were at a pub in england... he's gambling, he's drinking, he's smoking, and ofc he's kissing you!
what else is he supposed to do when he wins at darts or cards... come on
the guys hype him up and just hide their jealousy because you and buck very often seem like relationship goals
he's always touching you, like usually has a firm grip around your waist
always laughing together, everything you do together automatically seems so intimate
like in a room with the other guys... they do feel like they're intruding
just because you and buck are in the corner laughing and talking together, the love and intimacy feels like it takes over the entire room
it's just so passionate and obvious he's head over heels and that definitely comes across in his kisses
[joe liebgott]
joe's kisses strike me as tender but demanding and needy at the same time
he's a taker.... but also a giver so it evens out
some very, very eager kisses
like pushing you up against a wall, hand sliding up your thigh and mouth working down your neck...
joe is a great multitasker!
accidentally bites your lip once, it wasn't that hard or anything but he went bright red and was apologizing profusely, but also was like, "did you like it though..."
(you did but...)
bottom line is joe's just a tiny bit feral around you at all times honestly
you never know when he’s going to pull you into his lap and kiss you and you both loveeee when you sit on his lap
the men are very used to it by now
he also likes living on the edge, like who cares if the patrol's supposed to be back any minute now and could walk in at any time?
messy kisses like his mouth is just everywhere basically, he wastes absolutely no time
he is so noisy: whines, groans, moans, laughs, you get everything with joe
also loves when you tug and pull on his hair while kissing, he specifically requests it
but joe can also get incredibly soft and sweet and tender but that's strictly for your eyes only... he has a reputation to uphold ofc
he totally blows you kisses whenever one of you leaves the room... it starts ironically but now he really does enjoy doing it
[david webster]
oh david is just so romantic
like definitely over the top romantic... it's so serious to him
he's read enough (a lot) romance novels and craves that book and movie worthy relationship and love
his life IS a victorian romance novel and he will act accordingly
everyone else thinks it's incredibly cheesy but you think it’s really cute
it means so much passion whenever he's talking about you, talking to you, kissing you, etc
he's always trying to think of the right words to say and you’re like “david, just kiss me please”
ofc he obliges and he is very good at it
his touch is just always so tender, you can feel the passion and love through his kisses
he's a little hesitant sometimes, starts off slow but it's extremely easy to get him worked up and make him lose some of that self control that he works so hard to maintain and portray
[floyd talbert]
confident kisses
yeah... yeah, what more is there to say
floyd just has a way (from a lot of practice) with his mouth
he's also very attentive and is always surveying how you're reacting and feeling, always wants to make you feel good and lovesss watching your reactions
he loves when you make noises of surprise or pleasure, he always ends up grinning into your kiss, he just thinks it's sooo cute
however i do think the more serious your relationship gets and the more feelings that are attached, the more likely he gets nervous... just a little bit
but that's more with relationship things
the kissing he has down pat for sure
takes the lead, cups your cheek, always knows what to do with his hands and the perfect the angle to tilt his head
will sometimes stop super close to your lips and just grin, teasing kisses
floyd loves having all of your attention to himself, when you loop your arms around his neck, when your lips are on his face, when you're talking quietly only for him to hear, when you're the only one that actually calls him floyd, ugh he just melts
[shifty powers]
shifty is the absolute king of gentle kisses
like so so shy
especially at the beginning of your relationship, you definitely have to kiss him first and initiate everything
he's so scared of reading the moment wrong and messing everything up
which you always reassure him that he won't
he has literally the entire company hyping him up, they've been waiting for y'all to get together for basically years now
but once he's more comfortable, he's always wrapping his arms around you, smiling, and kissing you freely
he struggles to articulate all love and emotions he's feeling but you still love listening to him talk about it
he just blurts out "i love you so much" one day after kissing, when you're laying in bed in austria
and he immediately looks terrified, not that he regrets what he said because he most certainly means it, but he doesn't know what you're going to say
but it's only a few seconds before you grin and throw your arms around him, "i love you too," you mutter before kissing him, a little more intense, and with a little more fervor than your usual kisses
[bill guarnere]
his nick name of wild bill definitely applies to his kissing style
absolutely wild
sometimes borderline unhinged
especially if he's been drinking or partying
but also... if it's the two of you alone, having a mellow morning or night, bill does get soft
the other guys aren't even surprised by that, they know he has a soft and gentle side to him, they can see it whenever you're with him
bill is sporting a basically permanent smile while watching you
trying to burn the visual of you into his brain so he can keep it forever
his kisses are encapsulating and very distracting
he hates seeing you upset or stressed and he uses kisses and physical affection to help
loves holding you and being the big spoon
and you love it too
it's soooo comforting
and it's never easy to not be constantly reminded that you're in the middle of a war, about to jump into france, etc, but with him, his firm arms around you, it's a little easier to forget
[chuck grant]
chuck strikes me as very confident, kind of like tab
he just wants to appreciate you!
and shower you with love
he will never run out of ways and words to compliment you
he's been admiring you from afar for sooo long, now that your in his arms it feels incredibly surreal
his kisses are always firm and secure
and chuck really likes when you take the lead and take what you want from him
being away from you always stirs something extremely confident and desperate in him
really enjoys holding your hand
always having physical contact with you, that's a necessity
ooo... he loves having a hand on your thigh
especially if he can sneak it under the table during dinner or a meeting
just his hand sliding up and down, gripping and then releasing, and then looking at his innocent yet knowing smile...
that definitely leads to some intense kisses, your hands running through his hair, hand cupping his jawline, you leading the show
he lovesss getting a reaction from you
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antigoneikk · 8 months ago
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What it would actually be like to date various HBOWAR men (modern au):
by me and @guarnerepdf
Speirs:
-is a cokehead finance bro
-you wake up in the middle of the night to him watching you sleep with no explanation given, just an eery smile
-is gaslighting you for purposes unknown (moving your furniture one inch to the left etc)
-buys you the fucking tackiest expensive jewelry and designer clothes as random gifts but half of it is fake
-you justify staying because he takes you to NOBU but you’re afraid to google him
-malarkey keeps telling you he's a serial killer but he has such beautiful hair
-lipton keeps handing you domestic violence brochures when he thinks no one is looking. you throw them away because you want that fucking ugly gucci belt! and the staring is sort of charming after a while
-possibly has a secret child that he is hiding from you. you're not sure.
-the first time you have sex he chokes you without asking and is confused when you get mad at him over it.
-does coke while eating dry fruit loops cereal in the morning. somehow looks hot while doing it.
Liebgott and Webster:
-challengers level toxic throuple, these two come as a pair!
-liebgott is xanned out so badly on the regular that he does not remember the last time he washed his hands.
-lieb met bill and toye in rehab and now all his friends are undergrads even though he's going on thirty.
-lieb won't kiss you in the morning "goddamn it woman, brush your teeth" but will kiss webster no problem!
-lieb likes webster more, but web likes you more because you don't call him slurs and you let him rant to you about sharks.
-you and web unionize at some point to get liebgott back into rehab. when he's gone you realize your relationship is 200 million times healthier but also extremely boring. you take him back the minute he releases himself AMA.
-lieb cannot figure out how to work tiktok, meanwhile webster has 100k subscribers on youtube and does grwm story time videos.
-you once had to be driven home by babe from the gas station after lieb kicked you out of the car. the fight was because he didn't believe you when you said you were allergic to gluten. babe lets you play cinnamon girl by lana del rey on the way home.
-lieb keeps trying to weaponize therapy language against you, 'baby you're fucking gaslighting me!' webster just makes it worse when he tries to explain what the terms actually mean.
Bill:
-you start dating Bill after he steals you away from Babe. Babe was nice, but you got the ick immediately after realizing he's not the leader of the friend group.
-bill sends you disgusting dick pics with extremely poor lighting. you can see his bottle of lotion in the background.
-you think it's sweet that he brings flowers when you go out until you realize they're stolen from the neighbor's flowerbed.
-you have an extremely lavish jersey shore wedding that culminates in a horrible fight when he shoves cake in your face ruining your 400 dollar makeup (that you paid for) and your 2000 dollar dress (that you paid for). during your vows babe has to hold himself back from saying something when the priest asks if there are any objections.
-DIRTY fingernails! does not wash his hands. gives you a UTI but doesn't understand that it's his fault.
-Doesn't cheat but is always on the brink of it.
-Follows multiple swimsuit models on Insta, claims it's okay because 'sweetheart, listen, it's all on the screen!'
-Is so cheap he refuses to pay for extra sugar for your coffee, 'you've had it bitter before, babe.' you are ready to murder him. takes you to chili's and acts like it's a michelin star restaurant.
Talbert:
-cheats on you immediately. within the first week.
-sends you anonymous texts to get STD tested, too scared to actually go to the clinic but is certain he's dying of syphilis.
-cries to lip for an hour when you leave him for speirs.
Gale Cleven:
-'sweetheart. are you really gonna wear that out to dinner? it's a bit...well... risque.'
-accuses you of being an alchoholic every time you drink, but Bucky has done four Jeagerbombs tonight and isn't getting any lectures. Also. Why is Bucky with you two on your date night?
-is straight but keeps stringing Bucky along because he reminds him of his father and for narcissism reasons.
-marge messages you on facebook to warn you about him, and also to sell you on her new MLM scheme.
-bucky keeps giving you mean little grins as he hangs off your man....you are very close to murdering him.
-you finally leave him after he calls you daddy in bed. not mommy. but daddy.
Bucky:
-gives you chlamidya three weeks into dating. gaslights you into thinking you got it from sitting on a public toilet seat.
-drives drunk while you're in the passenger seat, goes above 90 and almost kills the both of you.
-is in love with gale and you both know it but refuses to talk about it.
-laughs when you start crying over your new STD diagnosis.
-is the worst boyfriend in the entire world. do not date this man!
Leckie:
-cheats on you with vera, but has a jealous meltdown everytime you talk to hoosier at house parties. you were literally just asking the man for a lighter.
-hoosier is stirring shit up for shits and giggles. he keeps liking your thirst trap insta photos, commenting 'photo cred'
-cries when you confront him about cheating. writes a poem to you about how badly hurt he was by the whole situation. says he only did it because that's how he was raised! no one taught him how to love properly!!
-exploits his family trauma at any given opportunity, shameless about it
-writes you sweet yet cringy love poems
-chuckler keeps trying to warn you but is so awkward about it that you just end up super confused
-blows up the minute you try and critique his writing
-tells you you're acting 'just like you're mother!' during arguments
-eventually you break up because you cheat on him with hoosier and he cheats on you again with vera
Hoosier:
-completely emotionally unavailable
-laughs at you in the middle of a fight, then when you storm out he stares at the wall for four hours straight. no blinking. no moving.
-goes to chuckler thinking he's dying because he has a 'weird feeling in his stomach.' the feeling is literally just a crush.
-catches leckie flirting with you. doesn't cause a scene but DOES immediately cheat on you as a retaliatory action. has no idea why you're mad about it.
-determined to hurt you before you hurt him.
-somehow makes you think you're in the wrong due to the sheer FORCE of his conviction that it was okay for him to cheat on you.
-you two break up but get back together after having a baby. the baby is possibly not hoosier's but he's a genuinely good father. (the baby very obviously has leckie's face. no one is fooled.)
-during your wedding ceremony leckie has to be thrown out after making the worst best man speech of all time.
-parent teacher conferences are a nightmare because your child is biting the other kids and is failing all her classes. hoosier blames you for not helping her with her homework. you all go out to souplantation afterwards and he keeps dropping barbs about you being a dumbass.
-the two of you stay married for 40 beautiful years before dying of old age. within those 40 years you separate and get back together a total of 5 times. leckie somehow outlives you both.
Luz:
-is sweet and lovely and handsome and makes you laugh a lot but
-you're banned from six movie theatres, three bars, the pier, disneyland, and a froyo shop
-you don't even LIKE froyo but the fact that you can't fucking go there anymore is driving you up the wall
-you got kicked out of disneyland because he got into a fistfight with donald duck
-his mother HATES you. she is the ultimate boy mom. they are constantly talking about you in Portuguese behind your back. she wears white to your wedding.
-cannot go grocery shopping because he's stopped every five feet by some old acquaintance. you have no idea how he knows any of these people!
Eugene:
-you're his beard but he doesn't know it
-is the ideal gay boyfriend/husband
-buys you flowers and takes you out on beautiful dates. cringes when you try to kiss him
-everything would be PERFECT except snafu keeps creating dummy accounts to harass you, drives by your house at all hours of the night, and you're pretty sure he's planning to SWAT you.
-eugene has no idea why you hate snafu? he's such a sweet guy!
Babe:
-you're a bit embarrassed to tell your friends you're dating him....he's sweet but just so dorky
-almost puked on you after taking a dab at bill's house. you had to comfort him for ten minutes
-long suffering angel who you cheat on because you know he's just too good for you.... better to hurt him before he leaves you first!
-is popular on tiktok somehow. you have no idea how this happened but it did
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r4diobaby · 4 days ago
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personally
i think any BoB modern au should actually be late 90s / early 00s cus that’s when the show was made… and it adds a little spice to those modern aus
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ithinkabouttzu · 5 months ago
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HEEEEEEEEEEY!! i'm glad you're back, i really missed your writing and i hope you're doing well! 💕 i had made a request: Speirs with a shy girl, please 🥹
Speirs dating a shy girl!
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a/n: Hi friend! Thank you so much for your request! I’m doing well, hope you enjoy!! ;) 💗
genre: Romance; fluff
warnings: none (that i can think of)
Description: Ron Speirs dating shy girl!
taglist: @executethyself35 @linhkhanhcps @1waveshortofashipwreck @grumpy-liebgott @barbeygirl @samwinchesterslostshoe @ronsenthal @sweetxvanixlla @mstiemountainhop @imaginethatneathuh @goodluckbabeheffron (If you want to be on this list, let me know!! :))
BoB masterlist
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- Okay let me tell you, this man LOVES seeing you get all bashful around him, he thinks it’s adorable.
- He knows that he makes you shy, so he would purposely try and charm you just so he can see you blush as hard as possible. (only he can do it tho, if another guy did it… they would probs go missing)
- During the war, he knows you are a bit more on the shy side, so he would make sure to keep you under his wing for the most part. He would hate to see you be uncomfortable.
- In your relationship, he’s mostly the one who does all of the talking, not that he wears the pants or anything (he thinks he does lmao) but just because he doesn’t want you to get nervous when you are around people you don’t know that well.
- He’s very supportive when it comes to you not wanting to go to certain social settings or when you get very quiet around others, he completely gets it. “It's alright, doll, I don't wanna talk to them either.”
- He’s very very merciful around you, like a complete softie whenever you need him.
- He will happily become the social butterfly in the relationship if that means you aren’t annoyingly uncomfortable by having to do all of the talking.
- Also this is a bit off topic but like, this man would definitely loot a bunch of shit to bring back to you. I'm talking like, hundreds of little trinkets just for you.
- Ahh but he gets so happy and excited when you start opening your shell up a bit more to him. In the start of your and his relationship, he’s very patient in his pursuits because he knows how timid you can be around others.
- He literally loves seeing how close and comfortable you become with him after a while. In the end, Ron just wants to see you happy!
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AHHH thank you for your request again! I’m sorry if this was a bit short! I hope you enjoy! 🤍
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hottpinkpenguin · 7 months ago
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Easy Company HC's: Letters Home
A/n: I'm really rolling with these BofB headcanons! hope you enjoy :)
Characters included: Dick Winters, Lewis Nixon, Ronald Speirs, Carwood Lipton, Buck Compton, David Webster, Joe Liebgott
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Dick Winters
Writes frequent, short letters
Meticulously dates his letters and includes a blurb about the weather. January 12th, 1945. It’s snowing outside, dark and cold. 
Starts each letter with My dear y/n 
Always asks how you are, even though he’s the one fighting a damn war
Follows up on every little question or story you include in your letters. How was the bake sale? Did you ever hear how Louise Graham’s brother is doing after taking that shrapnel to the shoulder? Hope you were able to get someone out to look at the washing machine.
Ends his letters with classic but sentimental sign-offs, like Affectionately yours and All my love
Makes sure not to include anything in his letters that would worry you. Doesn’t necessarily lie or fake being happy, but just gently side steps that. 
Although every once in a while you get a longer letter where Dick’s handwriting is a little messier. You know it’s from writing fast, you can almost feel the pressure behind the penmarks. He opens up more in those letters, talks about losing too many good men and sometimes will say things that just absolutely break your heart, like sometimes I wonder how all of this is really going to end for the men who are over here fighting. 
Even in these letters, Dick never says “I” or “Me”, always writes about the men and the boys. You know - and so does he - that he’s including himself in those boys.
His next letter he always makes sure to reassure you. And it’s genuine, you can tell. He’ll say something like I have to put some of these heavier thoughts somewhere, and there’s nowhere I trust more than with you. 
When he comes home, you find a stack of letters you wrote to him tied up in a neat bundle and stashed in an inside pocket of his Ike jacket that he sewed in especially for that purpose. You could tell by the flimsy, near-ripped creases and dirty paper that he’d read each one about a hundred times over. Buried in the middle of the stack was the picture you’d given him before he’d left for training. On the back, he’d written simply your name, the date the photo was taken, and a short instruction: in event of my death, please send all personal effects to with your home address. It made you sob but you never told him you found it.
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Lewis Nixon
Rarely writes. Actually drives you crazy with worry most of the time.
When he finally does, you can tell that he’s initially annoyed at having to put his thoughts down on paper. Letters start off with short, sarcastic sentences like nothing new here. Still fighting the war, in case you hadn’t heard. Enjoying German hospitality. 
But as the letters go on he relaxes into it and stops being so grouchy. 
Because he’s always grumpy at having to write (you should probably thank Dick for cajoling Lew into actually sitting down to write to you), he usually doesn’t write any sort of introduction or sweet address, just dives right into it.
His letters usually don’t say much, he just kind of rambles about how much he hates being away from you and how he can’t wait for the whole damn thing to be over. 
Sometimes he’ll write something so incredibly romantic it takes your breath away, like I’d fight a whole division of Panzers myself if I could just get one more sniff of your perfume. 
Those are the letters you save and reread to yourself over and over again when you’re waiting weeks for the next one.
Always signs off with something kind of sassy but also sweet?, like You know I love you or Keep our bed warm for me. 
Sometimes you feel like you can smell whiskey on the paper, which both worries you but also reminds you of Lew
When he finally gets home and you ask him about what he did with your letters, he kind of looks at you like you’ve gone crazy and says I read them of course, what else was I supposed to do with them? 
This hurts your feelings at first which of course he doesn’t understand, but after a few weeks you start to realize that he actually did read them and not only that he memorized their contents. Like he refers to your mother as “the Wicked Witch of Wichita” (something you called here after you wrote him a long rambling letter about how angry she made you at your sister’s bridal shower) and buys you a bouquet of daffodils because you wrote him a letter with a daffodil doodle in the margins of the page talking about the spring gardens. 
You realize that Lew shows his love in the little details, and it makes you appreciate him all the more.
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Ronald Speirs
Ron’s letters read like military bulletins. 
Doing well despite the cold. 1st sgt sick with pneumonia. Think of you often.
Writes predictably once per week. Never misses a letter. Ever. 
You always write him long, lengthy, romantic letters. Sometimes even a little raunchy, if you’ve had some wine. After one particularly *ahem* suggestive letter, you feel ridiculous and say so the next time you write.
In typical Ron fashion, you get a short, to-the-point reply, but it still puts a smile on your face and a blush on your cheeks: Loved your letter. Keep writing. 
Towards the end of the war, Ron starts a countdown to when he expects to be coming home. Two months now, maybe less. Home for the Fourth of July. 
Also signs off with R.S. Which makes you laugh, as if you could forget who was writing to you.
Whenever your girlfriends find a letter from Ron (you keep them all in a shoebox in your closet), they tease you and ask how you can possibly be in love with someone so stiff and formal. To which you can only chuckle to yourself, because you know it’s just that they don’t understand that Ron doesn’t tell you he loves you, he shows you. Writing a letter every single week. Updating you on everything going on, even short updates, because he wants you to know how he’s doing. That’s Ronald Speirs’ love language.
Maybe three weeks before Ron comes home, you start getting boxes of (stolen?) German silver at your door. At first it freaks you out and makes you feel slimy for having lavish riches from an enemy country, so you don’t unpack the boxes and you just stack them up in the back bedroom. When Ron gets home and sees the boxes unopened and shut away, he immediately asks you what’s wrong. You stammer out an explanation and without blinking an eye, Ron loads them into his truck and takes them to the dump. 
(Later you convince him that a better use of those would be to donate them to the local orphanage, so off he goes in his truck to get the boxes back out of the dump and bring them to shelter.)
One night when you’re lying awake, head on Ron’s chest, talking idly about things that don’t matter, he interrupts you to ask Can you guess which letter I kept? 
You instantly blush, thinking of that risque letter you wrote him when you were halfway through your second bottle of white wine. He shakes his head and pulls a letter out of his nightstand and hands it to you. You don’t recognize it immediately, although you do see that it’s too short to be one of the naughtier correspondences. 
It’s too dark to read, so you ask him which letter. He says it’s the one you wrote to me for my birthday. 
You don’t remember that one and you tell him as much, so you ask him why he kept that one instead of some of the others. He looks down at you with a serious look in his eyes, a little surprised that you can’t figure it out. Then he tells you: it’s the first time you wrote that you loved me. 
The next day, you sneak a peek at the letter and realize he’s right. You signed it, I love you Ron. 
From then on, you make sure to tell him that every night before he falls asleep.
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Carwood Lipton
Formal, sweet letters. This man is a king of romancing by words.
Writes as often as he can, but you know that Lip needs peace and quiet for an entire evening to get one of those letters done (he probably definitely writes a draft or two before he gets it right). And let’s face it, Easy Company doesn’t have the luxury of many quiet evenings. 
Always, always, always starts his letters off with Dear (future) Mrs. Lipton, which you honestly think is hopelessly corny but it’s way too adorable to tell him so. And besides, you secretly love it.
He always reminisces about home in his letters. Tells you how much he misses the smell of your baking, the squeak of the front porch swing that you two would sit on and watch the sunset. 
He worries a lot about you and his family. He always asks you to look in on his mother if it’s not too much trouble. 
Lip doesn’t talk much about the war, in fact he hardly acknowledges it at all. And he never uses the term ‘war’ or ‘battle’. Instead, he says things like The boys over here are still committed to doing the job or Easy presses on.  
Lip’s letters get a little shorter and less soft after Bastogne. He starts including the names of the casualties in his company in the P.S. Even though you don’t know these men except by name - and some of them, not even that - you feel honored that he trusts you with their memories. 
Lip has saved your letters and all the pictures you sent to him - he loves pictures, and asks for an updated one of you almost every month - tucked in his foot locker and safely between the pages of his Bible so they don’t get creased or dirty. 
You also find that he’s kept stacks of letters from some of his men that died in the field. When you ask him what he plans to do with the letters, he gets a heartbreaking, far-off look in his eyes and says I reckon I’ll try to get them back to their families. 
You take on the burden of doing that, and you write to some of the families introducing yourself and introducing Lip and offering to forward them the letters.
All the replies you get back mention that their soldier talked about how good a leader and friend Lip was. Their replies bring tears to your eyes. For some reason, you don’t show the letters to Lip, although you do tell him about them. He never asks to read the letters, he just kisses you on your forehead and tells you that he’s never loved you more. 
Even after he’s home, he’ll still write you a letter from time to time, usually at Christmastime or for your birthday in the summer. His letters are always talking about his favorite memories with you, and there’s always a paragraph at the end where he talks about how in love with you he is. It’s borderline poetry and it makes you cry every single time.
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Buck Compton
Basically just writes a list of questions for you to answer in every letter.
Wants to know everything about what’s going on at home. Especially sports teams.
Doesn’t write frequently, so sometimes it’s hard to feel like there’s a conversation happening. 
But he always includes sweet little notes about how much he’s thinking of you and how he’s counting down the days until he can hold you again, so you’re not complaining. 
Not the most poetic writer. Always says what he thinks and feels though. Completely honest and open. 
Does not tell you anything about the war. Basically ignores the entire thing. 
Sometimes you think about asking him about that, but you figure that he’s not talking about it for a reason, so you follow suit.
Calls you baby in his letters. 
Doesn’t actually say ‘I love you’ in his letters, although says everything else. Miss you baby. Dream about you all the time. When I get home, I’m putting a ring on your finger. 
One time he writes that he woke up last night out of a dream and swore I could taste you and it makes your toes curl.
You save that letter, tuck it in your underwear drawer. 
Signs his letters very simply: Buck. Sometimes he’ll put something in like until next time or I’ll write soon. But usually nothing super romantic or sentimental.
Doesn’t save your letters, but that really doesn’t bother you too much because all you wrote in them was basically just rambling details that Buck requested about your boring day-to-day. 
Buck’s always better in person than in writing - he’s a quality time and physical touch kind of guy - but you know that your letters were his only lifeline to normal during the war, and you’re just happy to have him back at all. 
He does surprise you one night when it’s really quiet in the house and you’re sitting on the couch together, each reading a book. He suddenly turns to you and says You know baby girl, your letters saved my sanity over there. It’s the most he’s really ever said about the war, but it’s enough, and you kiss him so he knows that you get it.  
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David Webster
Unsurprisingly, Web is probably the best letter writer in all of Easy Company. 
He helps a lot of the other guys write letters home, especially if they’re trying to say something important. Web just has a knack for words unlike any other. 
He writes a lot of letters home, not just to you, but to the rest of his family, his siblings, some of his friends, and definitely his professors. 
So because you’re close with Web’s family, you do get to read a lot of his writing. 
His letters to you are different though. They’re darker and a little less polished. Sometimes, they frighten you a little bit. Web talks about things you’re not you really understand - like how pointless death is, how empty it makes him feel to see his friends get KIA, how he carries around guilt about surviving this long like an anchor. 
Refers to you exclusively in his letters by your first name, his writing is always serious and somber and drenched with heavy emotions, so pet names just really don’t fit the vibe.
He quotes poetry and literature quite a bit when he writes. It all feels a bit Gothic, but you’ve always known that Web has found clarity in the world through books, so you don’t begrudge him a little poetic license.
Signs his letters Yours in perpetuity, David K. Webster. 
Asks you to send books. Sometimes he asks for something specific, but other times he’s happy to get whatever you pick out for him. Your tastes are different from his; you prefer to choose shorter, gentle pieces about life in the British countryside or Western adventure novels. Web would prefer Wadsworth or Hemingway, but he figures it’s probably in his best interests to read things that don’t tackle dark themes. You always tuck a letter for him into the first few pages. 
He doesn’t save your letters, per se, although he does save every single book you send to him. When he gets home, he puts them all up on the bookshelf in his office. Even though they’re beat up and stained and not at all fitting with the rest of his collection, they’re front and center. 
Sometimes he takes a stab at sketching in his letters. He’s not bad, either. You try to encourage him to take lessons when he gets home, which he never does. He secretly loves how much you love his drawings though.
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Joe Liebgott
KING OF DIRTY LETTERS
You definitely like to re-read his letters… again and again…
Not every letter is a dirty one. But most are. Or at least have a dirty section in them. 
You don’t know how this man makes you feel wanted from halfway around the world, but somehow he does. Lord knows you love a lot about your Joey, but you didn’t realize how good he was with words until you found yourself practically stalking the mailman, hoping for another delivery from Joe.
Uses a lot of pet names in his letters. Baby girl, Doll, Princess are some of his favorites. Literally never calls you by your name.
Always signs off with Your Joey. 
Even when Joe is clearly in a dark place, his letters are saturated with how much he needs you and how he can’t stop thinking about all the ways he’s going to have you when he gets home. 
When your mother finds one of Joey’s letters to you, she throws an absolute shit fit and freaks out that you’re sleeping with someone before you’re married. It takes a long time for you to convince her that you haven’t slept with Joey yet, you’re just… really into dirty talking.
She kinda chills after that but still looks at you suspiciously every time you get a letter from him.
She never tells your dad though, which makes you think maybe she’s more supportive of your relationship with him than you realized.
After working up the courage, you write Joe a letter that is so sinful you actually doubt whether you should send it in the mail, it just feels so wrong.
When I say this man goes crazy for that letter, it is an understatement. He is out of his mind and immediately writes you a reply telling you so. Basically begs you for more.
Even though your letters back and forth with Joe are pretty raunchy, there’s also a sweetness to them. He’s always sure to mention that This ain’t just all talk, Doll. When you’re Mrs. Liebgott, you’re gonna see exactly what I’ve been writing about. Which you know is still pretty dirty, but hey, he’s basically proposing to you, right?
You are not the least bit surprised to know that he kept your naughtiest letters when he finally gets home.
But, Joseph Liebgott is a man of his word, and even though he is clearly dying to and you’re practically begging him to, he doesn’t make good on all those dirty promises until after you’re wearing his ring.
Much to your delight, you find that he is just as good with actions as he is with words.
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blurredcolour · 1 year ago
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In The Bleak Mid-Winter
[One-shot]
Ronald Speirs x Nurse!Female Reader
No good deed goes unpunished, but your reassignment brings with it an unexpected reward.
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Warnings: Language, Weapons, Canon Typical Violence, Smoking, Treatment of Wounds, Medical Procedures, Hospital Settings, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes [unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex - m/f receiving, fingering, cum eating] - 18+ ONLY
Author’s Note: This was written entirely on my phone as my laptop is in for emergency repairs - I hated the experience, and apologize if there are any formatting issues or a surplus of typos. Also, I made some distinct narrative choices in writing this but I won’t burden you with them up front. They’re in the post-script if you’re interested! This is a work of fiction based off the actors’ portrayal in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life persons mentioned within.
Word Count: 6171
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December 29, 1944 - Bastogne
“Fifty surgeries in two days with only three deaths. It is nothing short of a miracle. I’m halfway through a report recommending you all for a medal....and then I come to find out you landed in the middle of an encircled town on an unpiloted glider, through all manner of artillery fire, with a goddamn woman?! A woman!”
Your bleary eyes focused on the lit end of the cigarette pinched between the index and middle finger of your right hand, the icy caress of the north wind howling between the tent and the garage outside the Bastogne barracks one of the only things keeping you awake. Weary from nearly forty-eight hours of surgery, it would have been difficult to stay awake under normal circumstances, but the mortification you felt as General McAuliffe screamed at Major Dorward behind thin walls of canvas was certainly helping keep you on your aching feet in the ankle deep snow.
Bundled tightly in your great coat, collar turned up against the wind, face buried into the olive drab scarf around your neck, helmet protecting your head, the only bit of exposed skin was that hand you were straining to focus on. The other was deep inside your pocket, balled into a fist. You were vaguely aware of various people darting through the barracks yard behind you, making their way to and fro, loading vehicles, delivering men to the now-central clearing station since the bombing of the cathedral the day before your arrival. Covered as you were, you were barely indistinguishable from an ordinary soldier, yet the General had managed to find out your secret nonetheless.
“I have every faith that she can handle herself out here sir, there was no more qualified surgical assistant to accompany us.”
“But she is not a surgical assistant, Major, is she?! She’s just a nurse! A nurse whose life you endangered by sneaking her aboard that glider! I ought to have you court martialed!!!”
The General did have a point, hidden though it was within the avalanche of vitriol he was sending the Major’s way. You were in fact no more than a surgical nurse - assistants were enlisted men. But during your third or fourth surgery with the Major, right after D-Day, a brand new surgical assistant had been assigned to the operating room and not five minutes in had fainted to the floor.
With the patient in a life threatening position you had stepped forward to fill in the gap and ensure no impact to care or outcome. It had been the start of a very effective working relationship as the 12th Evacuation Hospital made its way across France behind the advancing American army.
Thus when Major Dorward had volunteered for this assignment, and asked if you would consider joining him, your only hesitation was born of the concern for the hell you two might catch. The hell he was in the very midst of catching right now.
You hissed at the sudden pain as the lit end of the cigarette met your flesh and quickly flicked it into the snow, not having taken one puff. When General Nuts himself had stormed into the tent, eyes blazing, the Major had sent you outside in the early dawn light with the lit cigarette and his rifle for protection. It had rather felt like you were your own firing squad, though the Major was most certainly the one under fire at the moment.
The creak of boots in the nearby snow, much closer than all those that had passed by before, made you jump slightly. You turned quickly to see an exhausted soldier, eyes bleached a pale grey in the now-brilliant morning sunshine. He looked cold, and exhausted, as all the men you’d run into here did. His face was handsome, though, lashes luxuriously long for a man carrying a Thompson submachine gun. He held out a pack of cigarettes to you, offering you a new one to replace that which you’d mistakenly allowed to burn out and you shook your head before extracting your face from its position nestled deep within your scarf.
“I don’t actually smoke, please don’t waste any of your cigarettes on me, soldier.” You smiled weakly, watching as his eyes widened a fraction before the General’s voice somehow rose even further in volume to respond to something the Major had said.
“I don’t give two shits if she can transplant heads, the risks involved were unacceptable, Major, and believe me you have not heard the last of this! Your surgical record over the last two days has been impressive, but this was utterly reckless!”
The soldier’s eyes flicked to the tent then back to you as everything surely came together in his mind and you looked down at the outline of yourcombat boots buried in the snow, wondering if it was too much to ask for the ground to open up beneath you and swallow you whole. You heard the tent flap flutter and tensed in anticipation of the General’s departure, but instead a gunshot rang out from across the clearing beyond the barracks, the snow scattering at your feet.
Strong arms yanked around your waist and pulled you back behind the shelter of the tent and the pair of you quickly lay flat in the snow, unmoving, barely breathing. The harassment from the enemy had been almost constant from the moment the glider had entered occupied air space and that, combined with any and all abilities you might possess being questioned by the General simply because of your gender, had you feeling rather enraged.
Pulling Major Dorward’s rifle from your shoulder, you crawled on your elbows to cautiously peer around the corner of the tent across the meadow and into the tree line beyond. Nothing moved. Years spent stalking deer at your father’s side had taught you patience, and how to aim the rifle in your hands. It seemed the former would not be required as a soldier came blithely walking out of the garage-turned-operating theatre completely unaware that there was a sniper.
The soldier at your side gestured at him violently - you could feel the movement of his body where his hip was still pressed against your leg, but it went unnoticed. Another shot rang out.
“Holy shit!” The man wailed as he darted back inside, a shower of brick dust audibly hitting the snow somewhere to your rear. The sniper was clearly lacking in talent, but you were focused on the movement in the coniferous tree to your two o’clock.
Exhaling slowly you squeezed the trigger and there was a hoarse shout followed by the sound of a body tumbling through cracking branches and ending in a sickening thud.
“Trying to kill my goddamn patients.” You muttered bitterly under your breath and carefully sat up, looking back to the soldier as he exhaled slowly.
He was eyeing you, expression intense and inscrutable, but your gaze was drawn to the gap at the collar of his ODs where you could see fresh blood oozing from a poorly bandaged wound at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, staining his wool shirt just below below his silver 1st Lieutenant’s insignia.
“You’re bleeding, Lieutenant.” You said quickly, pushing on his hip to encourage him to roll over so you might kneel at his side for a better look, pleased when he immediately complied.
You laid the rifle in the snow next to him and pulled the bandages away, frowning deeply to see lingering splinters of wood in the wound. As you carefully probed at them he hissed and you tensed, quickly apologizing.
“It’s nothing, ma’am, I’m fine.”
The tent flap opening and closing followed by heavy footfalls in the snow signalled the arrival of General McAuliffe on the scene.
“Everything alright, Lieutenant?” He asked quickly and the man below you nodded quickly.
“Just some shrapnel from a tree burst, sir.”
You looked up to the General slowly, watching his eyes land on the rifle at the Lieutenant’s side before glancing across the clearing.
“Good. Well done with the sniper, son.”
The Lieutenant shifted uncomfortably but you nodded quickly, helping him sit up. “An impressive shot, sir.” You added.
The General’s eyes fell on you, still full of that heated rage, but apparently he’d run out of words to say on the subject of your unwanted presence for he simply turned and made his way back towards the barracks.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, Lieutenant.” You turned back to him, the coppery tang of blood on the air focusing you like nothing else seemed to be able to.
Working your way to your feet, you picked up the abandoned rifle before leading him into the tent. Major Dorward looked up from some papers on his desk, opening his mouth but closing it quickly as you were followed by the Lieutenant.
“Tree burst shrapnel, sir.” You announced in your easy working shorthand.
“Damn Nazis have weaponized the forest. Have a seat, soldier.” He stood and offered his chair, walking over to the stash of supplies to fetch a field kit and bandages for you as you set the rifle on the cot in the corner, putting your helmet down beside it. “Ah my apologies, trooper.” He amended.
You turned back to see the distinct jump boots with bloused trousers now that the Lieutenant was seated and smiled. “I apologize as well, Lieutenant. I missed that outside.”
You worked his ODs and wool shirt open to began carefully cleaning his wound, leaving him in his undershirt in the chill of the tent.
“Doesn’t seem you miss much, Nurse.” He looked up to you as he spoke softly and you swallowed thickly as you noted his eyes were actually hazel, with flecks of gold around his pupils.
Mercifully Major Dorward broke out into rich laughter and shook his head. “That she doesn’t.” He commiserated affectionately from his newfound seat on the cot.
“Let me guess,” you murmured to the man seated before you as you gently worked out the last few splinters of wood that had escaped initial treatment, “you also told them this was nothing at the aid station because there were men there whom you considered hurt worse than you.” You glanced to his face as his lips twitched a little. “This could have become a real problem, Lieutenant, I’m glad you came over to offer me a cigarette.”
Turning back, you called the Major over to double check your work.
“Wound is clean and ready for bandaging.” He nodded after looking it over. “When you’re done I suggest you try and sleep. We’re driving out as soon as the truck is ready and the ride out will be about as relaxing as the flight in.”
“Understood, thank you Major.” You nodded as he stepped out of the tent to light a cigarette. You carefully lay some gauze over the crook of the Lieutenant’s shoulder before wrapping some bandages around his neck and under his armpit to hold it in place. “This should heal nicely in a week or so if you can do your best to keep it dry for me…” you trailed off as your fingers found the hole in his ODs.
Casting about the tent, your eyes landed on a tattered blanket in the corner and you began fashioning a patch, whip stitching it into place over the gash in the fabric. “That ought to do it.”
“Thank you, Nurse.” He murmured, looking up at you before he stood slowly, buttoning up his shirt and ODs with practiced efficiency.
“Take care of yourself, trooper.” You nodded, watching him step out, hoping against hope that he would be alright out there.
General McAuliffe proved to be a man of his word, which in retrospect was of no surprise to you whatsoever. The hellish ride out of Bastogne in the back of a truck on the only opened road, with the sounds of battle still raging on either side, took you to Orval where you received orders to report to the 60th Field Hospital there while the men from the 12th would return to the Evacuation Hospital you’d been stationed with since before June 1944. You had been informed your personal effects would arrive at a ‘later date.’
Nuts, indeed.
You worked in Orval for nearly a week, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, wearing the same clothing day-in, day-out, until the 60th was relieved and pulled back to Mourmelon-le-Grand. As promised, your belongings were waiting for you there, in the iron grip of a dour-faced Chief Nurse MacDonald who was only too happy to put a ‘reckless, insubordinate’ Nurse like you in her place at the 123rd Station Hospital.
What followed was a grueling month of scrubbing and refitting the near derelict buildings abandoned by the Airborne when they were abruptly called to the Ardennes. By the time the place was worthy of being called a hospital, you had managed to become at least friendly with your new colleagues, though they remained suspicious after your filthy and unceremonious arrival.
By mid-February, a tent city began to spring up around the base, heralding the impending arrival of troops from the front. And with them came all manner of cold weather maladies - pneumonia, trench foot, frostbite. Working on the general ward now, you could only eye the surgical nurses with envy, knowing your skills were going to waste emptying bedpans and changing bandages and that you had no one to blame but yourself.
Stubborn in all things, however, you worked without complaint, often being rewarded with more work or the worst assignments because your superiors knew you would complete any task with efficient silence. It was precisely this combination that saw you assigned to the night shift, a small mercy in that the vengeful Chief Nurse would never deign to work such hours, allowing you to develop a new working relationship with Captain Munro, MD.
“Nurse might I borrow you a moment?” He interrupted you as you stepped away from the bedside of a postoperative patient and you quickly nodded, following him off the ward and down the hall to his office. “I’m up to my eyeballs in trench foot but there’s an officer in here, seems he lacerated his hand helping one of his men climb out a transport - quite stubborn. Whether or not it needs sutures I am confident you can determine…” he exhaled, clearly exhausted from working a double shift as he came to a stop outside the door. “Is it alright if I leave this one in your capable hands? You’ll find everything you need in the cabinet.” He looked at you pleadingly, eyes underscored by dark bags of fatigue as he held out the chart and you nodded quickly.
“Certainly sir, please don’t worry about a thing.” You smiled softly at the relieved slump of his shoulders before he nodded firmly in thanks, dashing off down the hall to no doubt deal with another man’s beleaguered feet.
You glanced over the chart of Captain Ronald Speirs quickly before knocking on the door, giving the man some warning, before you stepped inside. You tilted your head to see the Captain with his back turned to you, halfway back into the worn jacket of his ODs, appearing quite prepared to leave.
“Just a moment please, Captain Speirs, I would like to take a look at your hand, sir.” You said softly, eyes widening as the man turned around swiftly, arms still slightly akimbo, to reveal the very same Lieutenant whom you’d bandaged that morning in Bastogne. Who’d saved your life, and watched you take out a sniper with barely a comment.
His eyes were fatigued, his hair grown long. He clearly hadn’t seen a razor in quite some time and yet you were struggling to recall a moment when you’d found a man so attractive in your entire life. You suddenly felt acutely self conscious in your white and brown seer sucker hospital dress with brown cotton stockings and cardigan to match, nursing cap pinned in your hair.
“It’s nothing ma’am, I’m fine.” He repeated himself word for word and you bit the inside of your cheek, having a hard time deciphering if he was joking or just built that obstinately. You did not miss, however, the slight rasp in the back of his throat.
“Good, let’s keep it that way, shall we Captain?”
You gestured for him to sit in the chair he’d surely recently vacated and carefully took the one across the corner of the desk from him, holding out your hand expectantly. As he set the back of his left hand in yours, you frowned at the laceration along the side of his palm. Captain Munro had been right, it really was borderline in need of suturing.
Laying his hand on the desk gently you stepped over to the cabinet to collect the necessary supplies, deciding to play it safe. You could suture quickly enough - the man clearly needed to get some rest and you did not want to keep him from it. While swiping his palm clean with an iodine wipe you glanced at him as he cleared his throat.
“I didn’t think you were assigned here.” He commented quietly.
You shook your head ruefully as you unpacked a tube of pre-threaded sutures with a curved needle. “I wasn’t until very recently. I used to be assigned to the 12th Evacuation Hospital but after my…behavior it was deemed necessary to reassign me.”
“I said nothing, I swear.” He replied quickly, brow furrowing and you could not help the smile that pulled at your lips.
“I believe you, Captain. Heaven knows where I’d be if you had.” Gently positioning his hand on the desk top, you smoothly rotated the curved needle through first one edge of his cut and then the other, looping the length of it around your forceps twice before pulling the end through to create a square knot.
You repeated two more casts before snipping the ends of the suture, looking to him sharply as he let out a rattling cough. “How long have you had that cough, Captain?”
“Few days…” he replied evasively and you hummed disapprovingly.
“If it doesn’t go away in a couple of days, you should come back and see me.” You spoke as you began the next stitch.
“And if it does get better?” He asked quietly, watching your careful work.
“I’ll be here all the same.” You replied, pressing your lips together as you fought another smile at the thrill that unfurled in your stomach.
“Whom should I ask for?” His voice came out particularly gravelly and he cleared his throat forcefully.
It was your turn to look startled as you suddenly came to realize you had yet to introduce yourself. You quickly shared your name before shaking your head in shame. “You must think me some wild animal, Captain, please forgive me.” You muttered and tied off the fourth and final stitch.
He nodded at you, eyes taking on a glossy quality that had you growing more concerned by the moment. You set down your tools and raised a hand to brush the backs of your fingers against his forehead, heart clenching as his eyes fluttered closed. Those infernal eyelashes dusting against his cheeks. His skin felt a normal temperature but another ragged cough wracked his frame and you clenched your jaw.
“I’d like to listen to your lungs, Captain.” You muttered and stepped over to the cabinet once more to grab the stethoscope you’d seen there.
He blinked up at you as he began to undo his wool shirt. “It’s Ron.” He corrected you and another smile escaped you before you managed to smother it, hands cupping the bell of the stethoscope to warm it.
“Thank you, Ron.” You said softly, inserting the tips into your ears before stepping closer to press the stethoscope against his upper left chest. “Deep breath in for me?”
You listened carefully to each quadrant of his lungs, pleased there was no crackling or anything else abnormal. Satisfied it was most likely just a cold, you looped the stethoscope around your neck as you stepped back.
“Everything seems alright, promise me you’ll get some rest and keep warm?” You asked gently, doing your best not to allow your eyes to linger on the way his undershirt clung to his lithe frame. You did take a selfish moment to appreciate how well his wound from Bastogne had healed, however.
“Promise.” He nodded, doing up his shirt more slowly this time, courtesy of the stitches in his palm. “Remind me when I get to see you again?”
You bit your lip slightly and took a breath. “If the cough doesn’t improve, a couple of days. To get your stitches out, a couple of weeks. Please keep them clean and dry until tomorrow night at least.”
“Got it.” He nodded and straightened his OD jacket, pulling on a worn scarf from the back of the chair before standing slowly.
“But for now straight to bed.” You opened the door, watching over him feeling wildly and inexplicably overprotective.
“Thank you.” He looked to you drowsily and you nodded, seeing him out then turning back to clean up and complete his chart before rushing back to your actual duties that night.
One week passed, and then another. There was no visit from Captain Speirs. You did your utmost to convince yourself it was for the best, that it meant he was healthy. That he’d had his stitches removed by a nurse on the day shift at his convenience. Word came that his entire Division would receive a Presidential Unit Citation and Ike himself would be coming to visit to deliver it on Roosevelt’s behalf.
You were promptly informed by Chief Nurse MacDonald that your presence during the ceremony was not welcome, but if you wanted to observe the Divisional dress rehearsal a few days before, on your own time of course, she would not stop you.
Breaking out your dress uniform for the first time in months, you obstinately got ready just after the end of your shift that morning and strode your way over to the parade ground with a few of the girls on the evening shift who were certainly better rested than you. More than a few off duty nurses from the five other hospitals in Mourmelon had found their way onto the grounds to take a peek at the men in their finery and you could only imagine that number would be many times higher on the fifteenth when Ike himself was there.
The weather was thankfully cooperative as you huddled together near a collection of trees watching the men of the 101st file past. The contrast between their neatly pressed uniforms with mirror shined boots and the battered but not beaten men you’d encountered in Bastogne was truly striking. Each and every one of them truly deserved the honor that was about to be bestowed upon them.
Once everyone was satisfied that the ceremony would proceed without a hitch, the men were dismissed and you turned to head back to your tent to catch what sleep you could before your shift that night. Smothering a yawn behind your hand, the group of women you were walking with all came to a halt when a familiar voice called ‘Nurse!’ All of you almost seemed to turn back as one.
If six pairs of inquisitive female eyes intimidated Captain Speirs he did not let it show. He quickly clarified with your name, the other nurses filing away murmuring amongst themselves disappointedly.
“Good morning, Captain.” You nodded to him as he came to stand in front of you, sliding his helmet from his head to tuck it under his arm.
“Good morning.” He replied, eyes skimming over your uniform curiously.
You noted he’d found the time to visit a barber, his hair neatly trimmed and styled, though you rather missed the tousled waves he’d first arrived with.
“You are sounding well, Captain. I’m glad to hear it.” You smiled softly. “Did your hand mend nicely?”
He lifted it for your inspection and you looked to him startled to see the stitches still in place.
“Captain, these sutures were ready to be removed days ago.” You chided him softly as you cradled his hand in yours.
“I was told you were unavailable.” He replied quietly and you looked to his face quizzically before it dawned on you that he must have returned to the hospital during another shift and simply left when he learned you weren’t there.
“My apologies, I work nights. Any nurse can take care of these, they must itch something fierce.” You frowned.
“What time does your shift begin tonight?” He asked, seemingly happy to leave his hand at your mercy for as long as you chose to hold it.
“2100.” You replied, noting the disappointment that pinched at the bridge of his nose. “But I could meet you there at 2015 if it means getting this taken care of.”
He nodded firmly. “2015, then. Thank you.” He eyed you a moment as you tried in vain to fight back another yawn. “What time does your shift end?”
“0900. I should get back to get some rest. Just wanted to sneak a peek at the big show. You boys will do great when Ike’s in town.” You nodded warmly.
“You won’t be here?” He tilted his head curiously and you let out a scoff of self deprecation.
“Reckless, insubordinate nurses like me aren’t to be seen by the Supreme Allied Commander.”
A furrow appeared between his brows, the muscle of his jaw ticking slightly before he exhaled. “I wish they would stop punishing you for your bravery.”
Your eyebrows shot up beneath the brim of your service cap. You had been trying your damnedest to not let it bother you, especially after hearing the men of the 12th Hospital you’d gone in with had all received the Silver Cross. To hear him speak in your defense was quite honestly overwhelming.
After a careful glance around the nearly empty parade ground confirmed the remaining individuals were otherwise occupied, you leaned in to quickly press your lips to his freshly shaved cheek, thumb swiping away any trace of your lipstick.
“Thank you, Ron.” You swallowed tightly as the heat of his gaze was as palpable as a caress on the skin of your face. “I will see you later to remove your stitches.” Squeezing his hand gently you released it to hang at his side.
His silent nod was the only response you received before you turned to make your way back to your tent for some much needed rest, though your mind would have much rather focused on the way the sunlight lit his eyes than to let you sleep.
Arriving at the hospital that night at 2000 you tracked down Captain Munro and secured his permission to borrow his office once more in the name of treating the stubborn Captain Speirs. Setting out suture scissors and tweezers on a tray upon the desk, you hurried out front to meet the Captain lest he was misinformed about your availability again.
“Good Evening.” He nodded as you stepped outside, hugging your cardigan close against the chill of the night.
“Evening, Captain, please follow me.” You smiled and led him through the maze of hallways before holding open the door to the prepared office.
He assumed the same seat as before and, closing the door behind you, you sat opposite, looking over his palm as he set it in your waiting hand.
“You’ve done a very good job keeping it clean for me, Captain, thank you.” You smiled and picked up the curved scissors, the edge that pressed against the skin not at all sharp. “I’ll cut the stitches first and then pull them out with the tweezers, alright?”
He nodded, watching you closely as you snipped your way through the silk strands very carefully.
“They call me ‘killer’ you know…” he spoke apropos of nothing and you slowly raised your eyes, feeling as though you were joining an internal conversation well in progress.
Rumors spread through camp faster than that bone rattling cough he’d arrived with - you’d heard your fair share of things about him. Particularly after your tent mates had learned that he’d spoken to you earlier that day on the parade ground.
“Sure he’s pretty and all but after the things he did to those Nazi prisoners…” Betty from Indiana had insisted with a dramatic shudder.
“And his own Sergeant!” Philomena of New York had chimed in with an emphatic nod.
All of it struck you as hollow and vapid, coming from two wide-eyed girls fresh from Stateside who’d only ever known war stationed in hospitals with roofs and walls. Never been fired on, never had an enemy soldier try and take the life of a patient right out from under them.
“Well, Ron,” you replied thoughtfully as you set the scissors onto the waiting tray, “they could easily say the same thing about me. It just so happens I had a very honorable man at my side when my anger got the best of me.”
His eyes seized yours, pinning you to the spot with your hand hovering just above the set of tweezers as you forgot how to breathe. His lips tentatively began to form words several times before he abandoned his attempts to speak and lunged forward to close the space between you, his lips slotting against yours in reply instead.
Inhaling sharply through your nose in surprise, you found yourself quickly leaning into his kiss, fingers threading into his shorter hair as you tilted your head to press your lips more firmly to his. Sliding his arms around your shoulders, he pulled you close, tongue delving into your mouth greedily. A soft whimper escaped your throat only to be swallowed by his devouring mouth as he tasted you thoroughly.
Appearing discontent with the separation between your bodies, his hands shifted to grip your hips, guiding you onto his lap before his fingers began to pluck at the buttons of your cardigan. Rucking up the skirt of your dress and slip beneath, you settled over his hips, shuddering as the hard bulge of his length nestled tightly against your core.
“We don’t have a lot of time” you panted against his lips as his hands brushed aside your open cardigan to tug at the tie of your wrap dress, revealing your cream coloured slip beneath.
“Understood.” He murmured as he pulled back to drink you in, eyes taking on that glossy quality from back in February that’d had you so convinced he was febrile.
“Ron…” you urged gently, your own hands sliding between your bodies to work at the fastenings of his dress trousers.
Lost in some sort of trance he leaned forward to press his lips against the hollow of your throat before he secured the ball chain of your ID tags between his teeth and pulled them out from beneath the v-neck of your slip. Brushing his lips against the flat metal stamped with your name and serial number, preceded by the letter N, your heart lurched beneath your ribs fondly as it forgot its normal rhythm for a few beats.
The feel of his fingertips undoing the fastenings of your stockings from your garter straps refocused you and you quickly worked his fly open, sliding his trousers and boxers down as he did the same with your underwear, depositing them onto the floor.
Shifting higher onto your knees, you pressed your face against his temple as he took his cock into his hand, pressing into your entrance slowly. You whimpered breathily against his hair before dropping your head to the crook of his shoulder to try your best to keep your volume down. Rocking your hips against his with a smothered moan you clenched your thighs to begin working up and down along his length.
Heavy breaths fell from his parted lips, brushing against the skin of your neck, goose flesh erupting in the wake of each exhale. His fingers curled into the flesh of your hips as he helped drive your hips against his.
“Ahn, Ron!” You keened against his jacket, lifting your head to kiss him hungrily.
He rocked his hips up into yours each time your pelvis met his before letting out a frustrated grunt against your lips. “On the desk.” He rasped pleadingly and you nodded quickly, sliding from his lap to shuffle backwards, pushing the tray of instruments further behind you before perching on the edge.
Surging to his feet, he nestled between your legs, tongue sliding along yours as he thrust into your aching warmth once more. You cried out hungrily down his throat as your nails dug into the sleeves of his uniform jacket, clinging to him as he set a deliciously dizzying pace that had your toes curling in your shoes.
A ragged moan rumbled through his chest as his cock twitched within your wet heat and he quickly pulled back, chest heaving. Pushing from the desk, you fell to your knees, ignoring the slight sting as they impacted the floor, to wrap your lips around the leaking tip of his length.
He hissed through clenched teeth, hand coming to rest against the back of your head as you hollowed your cheeks tightly around him. Encircling him in your grasp, you eagerly stared up at his face as you stroked his cock, clenching your thighs together as the corded muscle of his neck flexed with the effort to remain silent as his salty release filled your mouth.
Laving him clean with your tongue, you sat back on your heels, swallowing every last drop as he watched on in stunned silence. Fingers sliding up your thighs to retrieve the first of your garter straps, you shivered a little as you remained highly sensitive, having been so close yourself, but also very much aware of the lack of time. You rose to your feet, about to begin fastening your stockings when his hands were on your waist, guiding you to sit on top of the desk once again.
“You didn’t…” He exhaled through flared nostrils and shook his head sharply. “Unacceptable.” Was all the warning he afforded you before he crouched down to seal his lips around your throbbing clit, two fingers plunging into your trembling warmth.
“Holy…” you barely managed to cover your mouth with your palm, hips bucking violently toward him.
He hummed against you approvingly as you lay back onto the worn wooden surface, writhing as fingers picked up the thread of your pleasure, winding it tighter and tighter as his mouth felt like it was sucking your very soul from you. Every muscle in your body became taught with exquisite tension until, at last, like the blowing of a fuse your release detonated behind your clenched eyelids.
Relaxing into the desk top with languid ease, you ran your fingers through his hair in tender appreciation. “Really…have no time now…” you murmured breathlessly and he pressed his damp lips to your inner thigh before pulling you up to a seated position and began to help you re-dress.
Any time his lips were vaguely within the vincinty of yours, you unhelpfully insisted on kissing him softly, significantly hindering progress, but eventually the pair of you were mostly presentable. He cupped your cheek with his left hand and your eyes shot wide at the rasp of sutures against your skin.
“Ron!” You gasped, grabbing his wrist and groping behind you for the tweezers before setting about carefully trying to remove them.
It was his turn to be a nuisance as he nuzzled his face into the soft skin of your neck, sighing gently, making you giggle under your breath as his eyelashes tickled your flesh.
“You are a wild animal.” His voice held a dreamlike quality, lips brushing against your throat as he spoke.
You honestly would have swatted him if his tone weren’t so reverent, doing your best to focus on removing the last two sutures.
“A lioness - fierce and strong and brave and gorgeous.” He rambled before brushing a line of feather-light kisses up towards your jaw.
It made your heart ache with the longing to linger with this verbose version of him that had somehow been unleashed, but according to the clock above the door, you had to be on duty in two minutes.
“Ronald Speirs, you sweet talker.” You whispered weakly, setting down the tweezers, your task finally managed. “I hope you sleep well.”
“You know I will, thanks to you.” His eyes met yours warmly before he cupped your cheeks, pulling you in for one last searing kiss. “May I…write to you?” He asked, incongruously hesitant after all that had transpired.
Sliding your arms around his neck, you kissed his forehead. “You’d better. This lioness has claws.” You smirked in a playfully threatening manner, earning a broad grin in response.
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Band of Brothers Masterlist
Tag list: @bcon24 , @ronsparky
Post-script: Firstly, I agonized for several hours about whether or not to have Ron be married in this. Ultimately, after reading that Ronald Speirs asked his first wife not be mentioned in any way in the miniseries I decided to do the same here. Secondly, while I used a fake name for the Major who flew into Bastogne by glider, this is all based on real events that took place! I decided to use fictional characters here to justify the radical actions I had them take in bringing the reader, but you the story of Major Soutter and the men of the 12th Evacuation Hospital is really quite something!
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bellewintersroe · 10 months ago
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Ron Speirs x ArmyNurse! OC
Margaret ‘Maggie’ Emerson, an army nurse attached to the 506th parachute infantry regiment, finds herself growing closer to her company’s captain, Ronald Speirs. With war drawing to an end, a side to the mystery that is Captain Speirs is revealed. Both Maggie and Ron have a difficult time resisting their attraction to one another.
This is the third part to this mini-series, here’s the link to part 2 where you can find the first piece also linked. This chapter is gonna be a cliche nurse has to do a physical exam of the soldier she has the hots for lmao- no warnings, just some swearing and mild sexual tension.
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“More, switch lines with me.” Speirs head was tilted, looking towards the door ahead of him.
“Sorry, sir?” More frowned. Speirs held out a pack of cigarettes and More gladly accepted, swapping places with him in the line with no further questions asked. The Captain smirked to himself proudly as the door opened, revealing Sergeant Alley walking out with Maggie swiftly behind.
“Thanks, Mag’s.” Alley teased causing some of the men to jeer and tease. Maggie rolled her eyes, giving Alley a playful kick to the back of his leg before calling out a polite, “next.”
Ron stepped forwards and her lips immediately tugged up in a smile she couldn’t quite bite back. “Captain Speirs, sir, how are you?” The door closed behind them both. From the outside, Luz watched on, mouth hanging open in surprise.
“What the fuck?” He muttered to himself, stunned at the exchange. “Hey, Babe, you see that? Speirs swapping lines with More to get into Maggie’s?” George nudged at the man beside him.
“Oh yeah? Didnt think we’d see the day Captain Speirs was chasin’ a broad…” Babe snickered.
On the inside, Maggie double checked the door was shut before heading towards the check board to write down Speirs’ name and tick him off the checklist. She’s been doing physical exams all morning, blood tests, checking their skin, weight, height. Maggie thought she was growing bored until Captain Speirs walked in.
“Would you take your shirt off for me, real quick?” She muttered, without thinking too much. Ron sat in the chair, removing his tie and moving his hands to unbutton the shirt. “I gotta just get a few measurements from you before I do the blood test and X-ray, that alright?” Maggie turned around, digging her pen a little too hard into the paper when she saw him unbuttoning his shirt.
“Yeah.” He casually nodded, as she pursed her lips, averting her eyes, before remembering she had to take his blood pressure. Spinning around again she retreated the device, stethoscope also around her neck. Her face was flustered and she dared to look up to him when his shirt was completely discarded. Maggie had been around shirtless men all day, it didn’t discompose her until now.
Ron’s gazed followed her tensely, swallowing and tensing his jaw when she took a seat in front of him. Her hair was longer than Ron realised, blonder than the other nurses, curls that weren’t pinned back hanging loosely. He didn’t even care that she was probably breaking every uniform rule, he was too enthralled by her.
“I’ll take your blood pressure first, sir.” He held out an arm as she shuffled a little closer, wrapping the material around his bicep. His muscles were protruding, as were his veins. If Maggie felt like melting just from the sight of his arm then she was curious as to how she reacted from seeing the rest of his seemingly, very toned, body.
“Get the boring stuff out of the way.” She giggled, glancing up to him. “Taking bloods fun?!” Her head snapped up again, pausing her actions. “It is when they faint.” Shrugging, she continued wrapping the strap around his arm before pumping to tighten the machine and read his blood pressure.
“Who fainted?” He questioned, a slight smirk covering his face. “You wanna know?!” Her smile turned into a devious grin as his teeth dug into his bottom lip, nodding. “Well it’s confidential.” She borderline teased, Speirs felt his stomach tighten as he unconsciously leant a bit closer. Maggie noticed and stole another glance over his face. He was even more handsome close up…
“Secrets safe with me.” He played along, eyelids heavy as they met hers. For a second her lips were parted and straight, captivated in the way he was looking at her, the way he spoke- and that was totally unprofessional. Maggie sat up straighter before her lips stretched into a smile again, shaking off the urge to lean closer into him. Ron wondered if all her exams were like this, or if it was just for him.
“I’ll let you guess, sir.” Ron cleared his throat, pursing his lips and looking around to distract himself elsewhere. Maggie scribbled down his blood pressure, “blood pressures good.” She then commented as he quickly snapped back to her, remembering what she’d said before.
“Liebgott. Acts tough but screams at the sight of needles.” He quickly commented, resulting in her laughing a little harder now. “No not Liebgott, stand up for me, Ron.” The name slipped as he smiled to himself. Maggie pulled the stethoscope into her ears and stepped around him so she was directly ahead of him. God, he was muscular. Trim from the physical demand of war, but he was undeniably attractive. Maggie’s tongue pushed to the inside of her cheek, tilting her chin up to look up to him before she pressed the devise up to the left of his chest.
“Sorry it’s cold.” She whispered as Ron felt his breath hitch, heart rate immediately speeding. “Talbert then.”
“Didnt faint, but he nearly threw up.” Maggie muttered, listening to his heart. Ron chuckled as they shared a smile. “Your hearts going so fast.” It fell out of her mouth as he took a deep breath. “I wonder why?” His eyes gazed over her, causing her own pulse to accelerate. The tension was too much, they were so both openly showing their attraction to one another, Maggie thought she might faint if she swooned any harder.
“Take a deep breath for me, sir.” She then instructed, listening carefully. Everything sounded perfect as she listened once on his chest and again on his back- that was also incredibly muscular.
She stood on a literal stool chair in order to reach and measure his height perfectly, Ron’s head tilted up in amusement before she nudged his jaw so he was looking straight. “I’ve been doing this all day.” She reminded, scribbling some more notes down, taking his weight and then doing an x-Ray, hands adjusting his arms in the right position.
“What time do you get off later?” Ron questioned, whilst he was stood in the machine. “You have to ask me that now when I need you to be still?” She gazed up to him. “Would you rather me ask when I’m taking your blood?”
“Preferably not, no.” She smiled to herself, heading over and pushing his arms a little further back so she could get a better view of everything to send to the surgeons to check everything was okay.
“Keep your back straight, alright?” Her warm hands touched slightly the mid of his back nudging him a little more upright. “Alright.” Ron spared her another glance.
“Hold still a second.” A moment later the X-ray was taken. “4.” She then answered, Ron looked at her in a little confusion.
“You can take a seat again- and 4. You asked me what time I get off at?” Again, she felt a little shy, fumbling for the tourniquet and slowly dragging over the tray with everything laid out on. Ron smiled, feeling the words ready to spill off his lips. He knew he shouldn’t, but he so desperately wanted to completely break professionalism and ask her out. He saw how happy all those other men looked to be in her line, he could bet they’d try anything on with her now the war in Europe was over.
“Oh yeah.” Ron muttered to himself as she tightened it over his bicep. “Clench your fist for me.” She muttered, wondering what the question was for. His veins were already popping, she slapped on his skin slightly before returning to get a clear pair of gloves.
It was silent for a minute or so. Not awkward, just a little tense, the unspoken words making the two of them nervous. “Sharp scratch, you okay with needles?” She muttered. Ron gulped, tense at her presence, not the needle. “Okay.” Her whispered tone made him shiver as he watched her prick the inside of his vein, never being one to bother about injections or needles. Ron inhaled, looking up and her head snapped up, making sure he was okay.
“You okay?”
“Go out with me later.” The words on his lips were finally spoken, he blinked back to her, seeing her breath catch in her throat before she turned back to the vial and needle with a slight amusement.
“You’re asking me whilst I’m taking your blood?” She watched it fill up, looking like a freak as she smiled to herself uncontrollably. “Yeah.” His voice cracked, raspy from overuse.
“Okay.” She nodded, not really having to think twice about it. Ron had to tense his jaw to avoid smiling too much. “Great, I’ll pick you up at 8?”
“Where are we going?” She removed the needle gently, dealing with that before disposing of everything she didn’t need and scribbling down everything she needed to, trying her hardest to focus on everything but the fact Captain Speirs had just asked her out.
“There’s a bar in town- don’t ask me to pronounce it.” Now she looked back to him, a smile reaching her eyes and nodding. “8 is good, I’ll see you then.”
“Good.” He gently spoke, looking back to her with a smile. Maggie hadn’t seen Speirs smile this much before. “You can put your shirt back on now, Ron.”
“Oh, right.” God, Ron had Maggie smiling like a lovesick teenager, even when he’d left and the next person, Malarkey had come in, Maggie was grinning like a goddamn child.
“Captain Speirs got you smilin’ like that?!”
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multifandomfanfic · 1 month ago
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Meeting and Falling in Love with the Easy Company Boys (x f!reader)
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A/N: These headcanons are my Secret Santa gift for the wonderful @hxad-ovxr-hxart (for @hbowardaily!'s yearly exchange)! I hope you enjoy them—this is the first thing I’ve ever made for Band of Brothers, despite being such a big fan. I had a lot of fun writing them! (BTW, I haven't watched BOB for a good six months, so I struggled a little with remembering what Talbert was like. I hope I did him justice.)
Characters: Joe Toye, Bull Randleman, Ronald Speirs, Joe Liebgott, Floyd Talbert
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Joe Toye
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This man is my short king (there is no way he is 5'10")
He may seem tough on the outside, especially toward his friends, but I know he would be the most caring person in the world to you. I mean, he broke out of the hospital in Bastogne to rejoin Easy Company–can you imagine what else he would do?
I figure you two would meet while he was in the hospital in Bastogne or after Market Garden. You would be doing your daily rounds, changing bandages and making beds when you come to him. He immediately thinks you’re the most beautiful girl he has ever seen, and thanks his lucky stars he ended up in your section.
He keeps requesting to see you, whether it’s under the guise of needing more medicine or needing someone to write his letters home for him (God, he thinks your handwriting is so pretty). It gets so tiring that your supervisor automatically sends you whenever he has an issue.
Of course, in an army hospital, there isn’t much Joe can do to try and be romantic, especially with a hundred other men needing your undivided attention. But he makes do with his pure charm and charisma, good looks, and maybe some candies he wrote home for. He makes sure to show you his brass knuckles and his plans to celebrate Joe Toye Day.
“Say, Y/N, when this war is over, how do you say we go out to dinner together? My treat.” Despite being bedridden, Joe’s affability shines through for you. You can’t help but laugh.
“Sure, Sergeant. I’d love to.”
As the war progresses and Joe goes back to active duty, you two exchange dozens and dozens of letters. They persist even as you’re both transferred to the most gruesome areas of the European theatre. He doesn’t sugarcoat it for you, but his stories of his friends and back home manage to light up your days. And he could say the same for the perfume and red lip-sticked kisses you leave on your letters.
He asks you to marry him in one letter (which he tried to keep hidden from the other men, until George found it and spread the news to all of Easy Company), and you immediately write back with a resounding YES!
Suddenly, though, the flow of letters to you goes cold. It isn’t until a few weeks later that his mother writes to you: Joe had lost his leg in Bastogne and was recovering in a hospital in Atlantic City. 
It was difficult getting through the latter months of the war knowing that an entire ocean separated you and Joe, but the letters and love continued. Once the war ended, you knew where you were going, and surprised him by his bedside in late May. 
“This is like déjà vu,” Joe chuckled, looking at you with all the adoration he could muster. The sun was setting over the New Jersey skyline, and the last of the hospital visitors were shuffling out into the night.
“Except you’re not leaving me this time,” you smiled, squeezing this hand, “And I’m not changing your sheets.”
Bull Randleman
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BULL BULL BULL BULL (sang to the tune of “Bill Nye the Science Guy”)
I already know Bull is a big softie; I mean, not only does he look like he gives the best hugs on this here Earth, but we already know he is one of the best NCOs in Easy Company.
I think you two would meet prior to D-Day at Aldbourne. You’re a Donut Dolly helping the Red Cross lift the men’s spirits, and boy, do you certainly lift one paratrooper’s spirits. Bull comes back to your Clubmobile on a regular basis, sometimes multiple times a day, even if it is just to chat. 
Due to the Red Cross’ discouragement of Dollies having romantic relationships with servicemen, you can’t reciprocate the kind man’s feelings, despite how much you want to. However, it doesn’t go unnoticed that Bull gets his coffee and donuts for free whenever you’re working the station.
There’s an unmistakable tension in the air before D-Day, which inspires you to break the rules a little and accompany Bull to a local pub. Hours and a dozen endearing Southern phrases later, you are wrapped in his arms, dancing, as Glenn Miller plays on the jukebox. 
“Thank you for this, doll,” Bull said, as you swayed in the middle of the dark pub. Several other Americans were there, trying to drown their fear away. They were aware you were a dolly, forbidden from socializing with Bull in such a way, but they knew the gravity of the situation, and would never say a word.
“Don’t say that, Bull. We’ll see each other again.” 
A few days later, D-Day was in full swing, and the men you had spent the last months with were across the channel. However, you did not have to wait for Bull to come back for you, as you came to him. Within a week of the invasion, you and your clubmobile walked onto the Normandy beaches, footlocker in hand. 
You can not imagine the look of surprise and joy on Bull’s face when your truck joined Easy Company outside of Ste. Mere-Eglise; witnesses say it was the only time his cigar ever fell out of his mouth.
Everyone knew you had a thing for each other, but the rules were the rules, and they were enforceable now. So, you had to exchange letters and glances in private, with conversations and hand-holding reserved for when no one was around.
When VE and VJ Days were finally declared, it was like a load off your shoulders. Your first “official” dates together include swimming and walking in the Austrian mountains, and enjoying the left-behind alcohol and cigars. And let's not forget those hugs!
(A/N: Can you tell I've had a fixation on WWII Clubmobiles recently?)
Ronald Speirs
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This man actually scares me, but that’s ok.
Speirs’ infatuation with you definitely comes from a place of respect. You work somewhere on the frontlines, whether it’s as a nurse, photographer, or another paratrooper in an alternate universe. While he may not vocalize it, he really admires your drive and bravery.
You two are acquaintances, having known each other since the early days of the Normandy invasion. You brush shoulders once in a while, but to your disappointment, nothing seems to develop between the two of you. His lingering glances go unnoticed.
He wouldn’t outright approach you. You would begin to notice small things added to your rucksack or station: chocolate, money, pawned jewelry, clothes–an entire set of fine china once appeared on top of your footlocker. You had no idea where it was coming from, and several attempts to find your secret admirer were to no avail. Whoever he was, you thought, he must be the most caring man in the world; who else would go out of their way to give gifts to a woman they barely know?
Someone would notice something, though. All the rumors about Speirs’ cruelty led some men to have a heightened interest in him and his daily happenings. It would be Luz who finally sees him bring a stolen pair of heels into your tent and exit without them–all while you were out doing your job.
“Hey, Lieutenant? You got a moment?” Luz called out to his superior. He walked across the ruined town square to Speirs, who responded with nothing but a blank stare. He had been caught and by no one less than George Luz.
“What do you want, Sergeant?”
“Well, I just wanted to say…” Luz looked around, half-jokingly making sure there were witnesses, “If this leaving stuff in Y/N’s tent is an attempt to ‘woo’ her, you might want to leave a note. Or just talk to her. How else will you know it’s you leaving her gifts and not Major Winters or Lieutenant Dike?”
With that, Speirs immediately goes out to find you. From the outside, he may appear to have all the confidence in the world, but he can not fathom you thinking all the gifts he has left are from the man he replaced. Speirs spots you mailing something back home; he pulls you outside, away from the attendant, and confesses that he has been the one leaving you gifts because of the feelings he’s been harboring. You quickly embrace him, causing Luz to whoop and cheer, which is only stifled by Speirs’ scowling.
From then on, you become the “First Lady” of Dog and Easy Company. You’re untouchable. Most of the men will bend over backward for you to stay on Speirs’ “good side.” You are treated with the utmost respect and courtesy, and privy to all the going-ons of the division. 
Toward the end of the war, Sgt. Grant is shot, and Speirs goes into full-blown protection mode. You accompany him as he locates the German doctor before initiating the manhunt for the soldier who shot Grant. You try to calm him down to the best of your abilities, but its no use. He hardly leaves your side after that night.
At the end of the war, Speirs decides to stay in the military, and despite the ups and downs that come with that, you stay with him. You celebrate with the rest of Easy Company as the men slowly start to return home with Speirs by your side. Not to be cliche, but you do live happily ever after, even if you’re never truly settled in one place.
Joe Liebgott
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Call me David Webster, cause I would die for Joe Liebgott. He was my OG.
I think its safe to say that Liebgott is very tru cocky. I wouldn’t call it a superiority complex, perse, but he knows he’s good-looking and suave, and he’s confident enough to put it to good use. He can wine and dine any nurse and WAC he wants in a matter of moments. It’s a foolproof strategy; that is, until he sees you.
It’s Aldbourne, 1944, and he spots you in a pub while playing darts. He is immediately captivated by your looks, as even the drab green of your uniform manages to compliment them. He’s too busy staring at you and completely misses the target on his next throw. It costs him a pack of cigarettes, and you giggling at him, but man was it worth it.
You spend the evening huddled up together in a booth, him trying every one of his usual pick-up lines, and you shrugging them off like they’re nothing. It confuses Joe to no end that the one girl he wants doesn’t fall prey to his anecdotes. In reality, they do work, as you fall more and more in love with him throughout the night; you just want to hear him work for it.
He walks you back to your barracks, dizzy from infatuation (and dancing). You leave him with a peck on his cheek, and it's there he promises you will be the last girl he chases.
Before D-Day, Joe asks for a picture of you to keep during the war. You happily oblige, signing your love on the back of it with a kiss. He keeps it with him until the very end of the war and can not count the number of times he has shown you off someone else. By May, everyone in Easy knows what you look like.
Despite his addiction to Dick Tracy comics, Joe isn’t much of a poet, but this doesn’t keep him from writing to you daily. Sometimes the letters don’t contain more than an “I love you” or ramblings about how terrible his rations tasted or German lessons. Other times, they were more macabre, even though he attempts to sugarcoat things for you. Your favorite letters are when he describes life back home in California and everything he hopes to show you one day.
Obviously, the war was hard for Liebgott, even more than other soldiers. But knowing you are waiting for him and will stick with him helps get him through the hard times. I imagine Liebgott turns into Harry Welsh now that he’s smitten with you. He tells everyone about you, and wherever he goes, he looks for something to ship back to you. 
After the war, the two of you find yourselves a nice house in California. No matter what happens, you are there for each other through thick and thin. The picture you gave Joe in Aldbourne is framed in your living room for years to come.
Floyd Talbert
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Unfortunately, I don’t remember Tab that much since it has been so long since my last rewatch. But if I know one thing for certain, I know he’s a cutie pie. (But I’m very sorry if these headcanons don’t match the character well).
You two would definitely meet while Floyd is recovering from being bayonetted by Private Smith in Carentan. You tend to his wounds and listen to him recall the harrowing story of how he received his injury. Its only when Easy Company returns to England and you meet his friends that you learn the injury was a simple mistake. Of course, Floyd is embarrassed, but you find it endearing.
Much like with Toye, you return to Tab’s bedside innumerous times. Since you’re in England, you can relatively safely go out for a “date” once he is healed. You enjoy the best British food the two of you can afford, and when that gets too sickening, you stroll through London like tourists.
He insisted you be there when he returns to Easy and informally receives a Purple Heart. His beams with pride, and in his confident state shows you off to the rest of the men as his fiancee. Well, that isn’t exactly true until a couple days later, when Floyd pops the question hours before departing for the war again. You wouldn’t think of saying anything but yes.
Like the other men, you exchange letters for months. You remain stationed outside of London, and despite wartime rationing, send him anything he needs. Cigarettes? Bought and shipped. Pictures of you? Taken and sent. Some baked goods? Consider it sent. If he could, he would reciprocate the favor, which he tries to do whenever they stop through a somewhat intact town. The tulips he sends you from the Netherlands are permanently placed by your beside, even if they arrive a little dried.
Once the war ends, Tab can not wait to see you and shows up unannounced in your ward. The excitement and love is palpable, and you marry within days. After that, he feels no rush to end the honeymoon phase, and you dawdle getting back to the states to begin life together.
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luminouslywriting · 8 months ago
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Falling asleep on the Bob guys
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Nonny, this is such a darling request! Sorry it's taken me so long to get to it :) I hope you really enjoy and are having a great day! Reminder that my requests are open and I love the spam!
Cut for length, paragraph format below:
Dick Winters:
Dick Winters is the type of man to be caught off guard in the softest of ways. He's not expecting you to fall asleep on him and he's still trying to talk over plans when he realizes that you're totally and completely out. It's at this point that he gets this really soft expression on his face and just decides to treasure the moment since you never know what will happen. He stays awake and keeps a wary eye out for any sort of danger that might befall the two of you. And he might murmur a few sweet nothings to you while you're asleep since there's no harm and foul for that.
Lewis Nixon:
Honestly, he's rambling and rambling and is waiting for you to reply to anything that he's said and mid-ramble, he looks down to find you asleep. Kinda makes this amused expression on his face and then presses a short and sweet kiss to your forehead. He's perfectly content as a kitten, curling up and falling asleep next to you. Especially if you're the one who fell asleep first—he's not about to move you or wake you up haha.
Ronald Speirs:
Realizes you're falling asleep very quickly and just goes kinda quiet. He doesn't have the heart to move you or wake you up so he can move, so he just sits there with your head on his shoulder and finally has a minute to just be calm and relax in peace. It's honestly a cathartic experience for him and he gets to reflect on your relationship, which endears the situation even more to him.
Buck Compton:
Gets this really goofy smile on his face at the fact that you're asleep on his shoulder. He absolutely adores seeing you this peaceful and will press a kiss to the crown of your head and snuggle in real close to you. He's the type to probably fall asleep with you, even more cuddled up and practically spooning at that point.
Carwood Lipton:
A softie who softly tells you a story until you are solidly asleep on his shoulder. And then he's slightly blushy and shy about the entire thing, but he's not about to move—he's no idiot. So he just wraps an arm around you and murmurs a soft goodnight. He'll treasure this memory for the rest of his life and wants to wake up next to you every single day henceforth.
Joe Liebgott:
Literally the sassiest mf—the minute that you fall asleep, he's out here glaring at anyone who walks by a little bit too loudly or is talking too much. He'll shush and tell someone to get the hell away from the situation bc no one is about to interrupt your beauty sleep. Not on his watch. He's also slightly smug and definitely thinking about sex in the future and how your married life would be.
Donald Malarkey:
10/10 a great person to fall asleep on. He's a solid choice, if only for the fact that he's ultra respectful and kind about things. He'll sit there patiently and untangle your hair while you're asleep and just relax. It's honestly just as calming getting to be around you while you're asleep and it becomes a tradition between the two of you.
Eugene Roe:
You cannot convince me that he isn't the best choice here. He gets super soft and almost emotional about the fact that you trust him enough to fall asleep near him and on him. He'll murmur lullabies in a half-whisper in French and stroke your hair and rub your back soothingly until you're totally asleep. He absolutely loves you and that'll be the last thing you hear before you're totally out for the count.
Bill Guarnere:
Doesn't realize you've fallen asleep until he turns to hear your reply or comments from a story he's been telling and then realizes that you're totally out. He gets this kinda goofy grin and just snuggles up real close to you. He's very honored that you feel safe enough to fall asleep in his presence—and he's not about to lose that trust for literally anything. You mean the world to him.
Joe Toye:
Slightly panicked?! Which doesn't really make sense, but you're literally asleep and he's just not about to let anyone interrupt that. He'll glare and make menacing motions to anyone who's too loud and he just wants to cuddle up next to you without anyone giving him shit. Not that anyone would—but you know, he's got some worries. Either way, he's real gentle about the entire thing.
George Luz:
Probably happens in a foxhole amidst some jokes and laughs to keep spirits up. And when you don't respond, he gets a little worried and then glances over to find out that you're just asleep on his shoulder. Gets this shit-eating grin on his face and he's definitely gonna tease you about it later (but not in front of anyone else). He's secretly very pleased that you fell asleep on him since he's got a big crush on you anyway haha.
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awaterfalls · 9 months ago
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Okay, I'm excited to post all of it!!!
• I had to post the pacific cast too bc the pic is so cute to be left out 😊
• I keep looking at this pics all the time and I don't know what to say anymore.. I JUST LOVE THEM!!!! 😭😭😭😭
Part 4/??
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thanosgf · 6 months ago
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band of brothers • black and white
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