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wcters · 7 months ago

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𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗟𝗘𝗧 𝗠𝗘 𝗕𝗘 (𝗖𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨)

pairing: joe liebgott x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k+

summary: four times you question what you two are and the one time you finally figure it out

warnings/notes: established relationships, angst (were dealing with war), kissing, pda, some drug use (cigarettes), alcohol, swearing, weapons, violence | no disrespect to the actual veterans or any of the situations described and written here, this is based on the series and the character of joe liebgott. somewhat ib @softguarnere (if you would like me to change it/take it down i will. it’s not really similar but still). if anyone has any tips for writing for band of brothers, please let me know! longest imagine written so far, and a dedication to my boys skip and penkala

You never knew home could be a person . . . until you joined the army and were surrounded by it, by many different people, and the one person you trusted most ━━ Joseph Liebgott. It was unexpected. To outsiders, they wouldn’t even think you two would speak ━━ let alone be friends. Yes, both of you are different in many ways, but you’re also the same in many ways. Skip Muck, one of your other close friends in Easy Company, joked that part of your souls were intertwined and you two would eventually fall in love. In the beginning, you would laugh it off. But you soon realized how true that was.

1. 1942, TOCCOA, GEORGIA

The army was ruthless. You knew that it would be when you joined Easy Company a couple months earlier, but you didn’t expect it to be this bad . . . only because of a certain officer named Sobel. You swear he had it out for all of you, and lots of the men hadn’t done anything bad ━━ that you knew of. Most of the time your weekend passes were revoked for little things such as some dirt on your gun and a stray string (that wasn’t actually there, you checked multiple times), but this weeked you and Joe were lucky to still have yours. You don’t even know how you both managed that, let alone him.

You two were walking hand in hand down the dimly lit street. You were quietly humming a song as you looked at the various stores as you made your way to one of the bars your group frequented. A few other army guys could be seen walking with each other or a local girl hanging on their arm. On any other night you would��ve looked like any other soldier in the soft lights, but you had switched out your uniform for a dress you had hidden in your barracks. You had thought ‘why not? It’ll probably be the last time I get a chance to wear it’ and threw it on with some heels you borrowed from a girl you knew in town with a promise to return them.

The quietness of the street got smaller and smaller as you made you got closer to the bar. “Crowded tonight, huh?” The man beside spoke out loud, swinging your clasped hands. “I think to us it does, but to them it doesn’t.” You joked while letting out a chuckle. Joe did too before grabbing the door of the bar and opening it for you. You mumbled a “thank you” while music filled your ears. “I’ll find us a seat, you get us drinks.” You told Joe as he nodded and you went to search for a booth.

It wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be, and soon enough you and Joe were chatting and laughing while couples danced around you. Joe looked around as you sipped your beer before he got up out of the booth and lent out a hand to you. “Would you like to dance?” He smiled. You laughed before looking around. “Why not?” You agreed and got up, making your way to the dance floor as a slow song began to play.

While leaned your head on his chest as you danced with couples around you, you couldn’t help but wonder what you two were.

2. 1943, BROOKLYN NAVAL SHIPYARD, NEW YORK

The heat of the boat taking you to England was suffocating with all of the soldiers packed in it, but Joe managed to have an arm around you waist while you two were playing cards with Muck and Bill. You were just an observer, butting out after the third game and got lost every one.

“Jesus Bill! You must be cheating!” Joe yelled as the brunette man placed another card down, Muck agreeing sourly. You laughed at that while stealing the cigarette out of Joe’s mouth and taking a hit. “You’re just sorry losers.” Bill laughed at their faces. “You don’t get to laugh y/n, you quit because you kept losing.” Skip pointed at you as he saw your face. “At least I accepted defeat, asshole.” You could feel the small laugh that came out of Joe’s chest and imagined the smirk that was on his face. “She got you there, Skip.”

They continued playing for a little while, you and Joe taking turns smoking until Bill won again and Skip slammed his cards down onto the cot. “Calm down.” You told him, soft smile on your face. “I am calm, it’s just Bill keeps winning and it’s fucking hot in here,” the man gestured to the people around you,” I don’t know how you two are that close. I swear I’m going to die of overheating and you two are practically cuddling.” You made a face to your friend while Joe laughed and made a comment that you couldn’t hear.

You and Joe were really close, you basically almost on his lap at this point, but you had a reason. The boat was packed, not being much room to move around. You didn’t want to climb up all the way onto your cot, and you wanted to keep talking with your friends. Plus, you and him had to be close ━━ you were sharing a cigarette. “We’re sharing a cigarette.” You shrugged, grabbing the object out of his mouth as he yelled a “hey” as you took it. Skip gave you a look as if to say “that’s bullshit” and got up, going to find Penkala. You looked over to Bill and he looked down at his cards, smirk on his face.

You had a reason to be that close . . . right? Or was it something different?

3. 1944, NORMANDY, FRANCE

The gravel crunched underneath your boots. You had just landed somewhere in Normandy ━━ you weren’t sure, you had missed your DZ ━━ and were now on the lookout to hopefully find Easy Company and not some German looking to end your life. That’s why you had you gun aimed into the distance. Every little breeze that shook the branches had yoy freezing up and darting you eyes, only to figure out it was the wind or some rabbit that looked as scared as you. It made you feel a little less alone.

When another bush shook, this time a little longer than usual, you crouched instead of just freezing up, gun still trained to where the sound was coming from. You waited before slowly moving forward, trying to minimize the sound of the road beneath you. You saw the bottom of a pair of boots and it seemed you were both waiting for the other to speak first. That decision was chosen for you.

“Flash.” “Thunder.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when you heard that and then saw the multiple pairs of boots. “Y/n?” Someone called out within the group. You squinted trying to see who it was. “Bill!” You exclaimed in surprise before recognizing the few other people with him: Marlarkey, Wynn, Toye, Lipton, some people from the 82nd Airborne, and Hall, a man not from your company but you recognized him from Able Company. You quietly said your greetings before continuing on your way to try and find your rallying point.

After finding and following a set a train tracks, a situation happened where Bill shot before Winter’s Command, you reprimanding him again and jokingly pushing his head as he called you a “stupid mick” which you laughed at. Now the group was on the road to the rallying point. The whole time you had been thinking about Joe. God, you wished he was still alive. You didn’t know what you were going to do if he wasn’t. When you eventually got to the farm, you heard a familiar voice. You stopped as you saw each other before you began to run and give him a hug.

You could hear the mumblings of the other soldiers, but at that moment, you didn’t care. When you pulled away you grabbed his face. “Joeseph Liebgott, I would’ve killed you if you died.” You laughed with tears in your eyes as you checked him for and scratches and scars. “I wouldn’t dream of it doll.” He laughed too before pulling you back in.

You decided at that moment in time that it didn’t care what you two were, as long as you had him, you didn’t care. As long as you knew he was okay.

4. 1944, ARDENNES FOREST, BELGIUM

All you could see was white: the sky, the ground, even the trees that surrounded you, that partly acted as a wall. You were sick of it. You think you would feel this way for the rest of your life ━━ the look and feel of the freezing chill of the snow and forest. Maybe you would move to somewhere warmer, somewhere where it doesn’t snow and the lowest it would get would be 59 degrees Fahrenheit.

Imagining what you would do in the future always helped you get somewhat through the hard times, though a person was the one thing that was a blanket to you. He had told you he left to talk to Lipton, but he hadn’t been back for awhile.

As if the world hated you having a small moment of what little peace you could have, a light broke through the white sky. A yell of “incoming!” from someone near you, either Skip or Penkala, caused you to sink further into your foxhole, well what you could, and cover your ears as the bombing started. When you heard yelling with words like “c’mon!” and “hurry!” you looked up to see Skip and Penkala yelling out to Luz who was out in the open. “Luz!” You yelled to him, “get over here! It’s closer!” He followed your voice and jumped in, but as soon as you both turned around you saw Skip and Penkala get hit with a shell. You knew they didn’t make it.

It was over as soon as it happened, but you were so distracted with what had happened that you didn’t feel the burning on your side until George had asked you if you were okay. You groaned when you first felt the searing pain and lifted up your coat to see the blood soaking it. “Oh, shit. Medic!” You had been with a piece of flying shrapnel from the shell that hit the two. You didn’t have time to register how one of your best friends were killed before Doc Roe was at your side with Luz holding you so you wouldn’t move too much. “Christ, y/n.” Gene mumbled as he got a look at it before grabbing a bandage and wrapping it the best he could.

You were frozen now ━━ not from the cold, or the wound on your side that would cause you to get taken off, you were frozen with the realization of what just happened. You wanted to cry, scream, do anything, but you just . . . couldn’t. Everything around you was fuzzy and you didn’t register that the shelling stopped and you were being taken out until you saw Joe. Then, tears managed to fall and you started to sob. He was mumbling about how you were going to be okay and everything was fine as he followed you to the Jeep.

When you felt the rumble of the Jeep engine, you grabbed Joe’s hand as tight as you could. “I love you, you shithead.” You laughed as you told him. You didn’t know whether you would see him again, and you wanted him to know how you truly felt about him, and how much he ment to you. He froze for a second before leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I love you too. I’ll kill you if you die.”

You laughed one more time as the image of him started to get smaller and smaller as he let go of your hand, slapped the Jeep, and it started to move. You tried to memorize what you could see: his shadow, the way he stands . . . him. You closed your eyes and felt a tear make its way down your face, settling in with the other dry ones.

+1. 1945, BAVARIA, AUSTRIA

The almost-healed wound on your side was a reminder of what you’ve been through, and what you’d missed. You’d been stuck in the hospital since mid December. You attempted to go AWOL multiple times, but you had failed every time.

Your shrapnel scar had ended being worse than Doc Roe thought and you had to be transported to surgery. When you woke up and heard what happened, you immediately wanted to go back and find your company . . . and Joe. You knew you left on a weird note, and wanted to figure it out. That was looming on your mind, along with the grief you finally had time to face. Not really face, more like confront. It was one of the only things you thought about while in there. You hadn’t fully come to terms with it, but you had made some progress.

You had thought about how George was doing, and especially Malarkey. He was Skip and Penkala’s best friend ━━ you were a close second. Bastogne was a horrible place in itself, but having to deal with that while there, to you, was a death wish. You were worried for everyone, the people you left behind.

You had just gotten to Bavaria when you saw Colonel Sink, and he saw you. As one of the very few women in the army, you could say he had a soft spot for you (though you would never say it to his face). You had been told a very uninformative idea of where the airborne was located, but you had been wandering since you got dropped off.

“Sergeant y/n, is that you?” Sink had called out to you as the car stopped. You saluted before you replied with a “yes sir.” “You lookin’ for Easy soldier?” You answered with a yes and conversed for a little bit ━━ mostly about your time in the hospital and what you missed ━━ before he invited you into the Jeep to get a ride up the mountain that looked over you.

That’s where you were know as you made your way up the hill, the familiar rumble of the Jeep underneath you. You couldn’t deny the feeling of excitement and happiness in your stomach as you got closer. You soon heard voices over the engine and on the horizon silhouettes appeared. When the car stopped, you gave a quick thank you, saluted, and made your way to where some of Easy was sitting.

“Having fun without me?” You asked out loud as people turned to you. There were calls of excitement as they saw you and people made their way to greet you, but one of the faces you were looking for was Joe. You eventually saw him getting up from sitting in front of a wheel and you both made eye contact before people split and let there be a clear path to him. You didn’t have to say anything to let him know you were running towards him before jumping on him and giving him a hug. He held you right, as if you were going to leave again, and spinned you around as you both laughed.

He was still holding you, arms around your waist, but had let your feet touch the floor. “Hi.” You smiled. “Hey doll.” Those were the only things said before you lips crashed together and there were cheers from your friends around you. When you parted, your foreheads fell against each other. “I was so worried, I was afraid you weren’t going to come back.” He admitted. “You can’t get rid of me that easy Joe.” You joked before kissing him quickly again and then went on a mission to find Malarkey.

He was leaning against the side of a car, cigarette in his hand. You gave him a tight hug, saying everything you needed to but couldn’t, before parting. You sat and talked while Joe kept a close eye on you.

“Skip was right, y’know.” Malarkey said as he let out some smoke. “What do you mean?” You asked, looking at everyone and the view. “About you and Joe. How your souls are intertwined. I always laughed at it but seeing you two now, he was right.” You blushed and looked down before your eyes met Joe’s and he winked at you.

“I guess so. But hey, never doubt Skip. He always said that. Guess this is a nice payback.” “Guess so.”

You never thought a person could be home, but as you walk in front of the fireplace, your baby girl in your arms, you realize that it could be ━━ that it is. And you are ever so thankful you figured out what you two were.

#emma writes #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #joe liebgott #joe liebgott x reader #x reader #x fem!reader #imagine #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers fan fiction #donald malarkey #skip muck #alex penkala #Joe liebgott fanfiction #band of brothers fic #hbo war #ww2

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she-wolf09231982 · 7 months ago

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Joe Toye

“The Bunny and The Fox”

Summary: You thought Joe Toye was too scary to even consider a friend, but he proves to be not only a great friend, but also a lover.

A/N: One shot, Mature audience, JoeToyeX!FemMedic, WW2, Female Pronouns, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Military and Medical Terminology, Inappropriate Nicknames, HBO Band of Brothers References, Mentions/Descriptions of Injuries, Weaponry, Smoking. Angst/Conflict, Smut, *John Wayne/McClintock Movie Quote*, FOREVER FLUFF

@awaterfalls 😁🪖♠️🦅❤️

These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~

He always appeared so….serious. His face in a constant state of pissed off and disdain. If looks could kill, Joe Toye (and Johnny Martin) wouldn’t have needed weapons in the war.

You avoided him all through Toccoa. He just seemed like the type to leave the hell alone. But every now and then, you caught a glimpse of him smiling or laughing with the guys.

“Not bad.” You’d think to yourself as you admired his smile.

Since you trained with Easy as a medic, you rarely had an excuse to speak to him unless he was injured. Even then you kept your conversation short and sweet with hardly any eye contact. But with his low raspy voice came a sense of calm while you took care of him. You supposed he seemed friendly enough.

~~~~~~

June 1944 Post D-Day

Orders were given to take Carentan where German soldiers were being sheltered. Carentan was the main crossroad between Cotentin and Calvados where the ally force's tanks needed passage to attack the main objective, Cherbourg.

"Listen up!" LT Welsh shouted. "It'll be dark soon. I want light and noise discipline from here on. No talking, no smoking. And no playing grab-fanny with the man in front of you, Luz. We're taking Carentan. It's the only place where armor from Omaha and Utah Beach can link up and head inland. Until we take Carentan, they're stuck on the sand. General Taylor's sending the whole division."

Some of the men began to grumble under their breath. Everyone started to stir to gather their gear to begin the journey to Carentan.

Walking in a file formation on each side of the road to Carentan. You found yourself walking in front of Toye as Perconte proceeded you.

“Hey Toye, why you always in the middle when we convoy anywhere? Ain’t you ever in the front?” Guarnere teased.

“I go wherever the medic goes in case I get hit, Bill.” Joe responded.

You blushed and dared to sneak a glance behind you. As you did, Toye met your gaze shooting you a quick wink. You quickly look back to the front embarrassed he caught you acknowledging him.

“Awe now look what ya did. You scared her.” Guarnere teased.

You hear some of the guys laugh.

“Maintain your noise discipline.” Winters reminded.

~~~~~~~

"MEDIC!!"

You and Doc on separate ends of the streets trying to keep low to tend to the wounded.

You rush to two soldiers landing on your knees next to them, one on the ground with a trail of blood coming from his helmet, the other crouching over him.

"He's still breathing, help me carry him!" You call out. You each grab an arm of the injured soldier and drag him behind a building.

While you're working on the nameless soldier's head wound, a drug store gets blasted by German artillery not far from where you were, the force from the explosion sending you sideways into the brick wall next to you.

You shake your head to stop the ringing in your ears. Everything you could hear was distant as your vision became fuzzy and dark. You start to smack your ear trying to make it pop so you can get back to your senses.

“Y/L/N! We gotta move! Get up!” Toye’s muffled voice yelled out.

He grabbed you by the arm pulling you up to your feet. You still couldn’t barely see so you held onto his arms for dear life.

“I-I can’t see nothin’ Joe!” You called out to him.

“Ok, come on…UP we go!” You hear him grunt as he threw you over his shoulder.

You feel him trotting to safety while blast after blast erupted all around you. You feel him lower you as gently as he could to the ground against a wall.

“Hey, look at me.” Toye said as he guided your face towards his, “Can you see me now?”

You shake your head, “No, it’s all dark and blurry.” You reply as tears started to stream down your cheeks.

Were you going blind?? Is this it? You’re not going to be able to see your family’s faces? Never see your own reflection? You feel yourself slipping into shock.

“Hey! Stay with me now, ok doll? Don’t cry. Doc’s on his way.” You hear Toye’s voice break through your thoughts.

Doc ducked behind the wall with you and Toye.

“What’s the matta’ with her?” You hear Gene ask.

“She can’t see. Says everything is blurry.”

“Gene, I think I’m going blind. Am I going blind??” You asked panicked trying to reach out for him.

“What happened before she couldn’t see?”

“A shell dropped right by her and she went flying into a brick wall.”

Gene nodded, “That’ll do it. You got a concussion, Y/L/N, you ain’t goin’ blind.”

You released a sigh of relief.

“Joe, can you get her back to HQ? She ain’t no good out here if she can’t see nothin’.”

“I got her, Doc.”

~~~~~~~

Toye got you back to an aid station not long after Easy Company claimed victory over Carentan. You remained there until the following day after your vision returned. As you approached a group of the guys from Easy, you were welcomed with whoops and cheers.

“Hey! Look who it is!” Luz called out.

All the guys turned to find you walking towards them.

“Hey look what the cat dragged in!” Malarkey joked.

The chorus of laughter from the men lifted your spirits.

“Yeah, I look rough, I know. Thanks guys.” You greet.

You looked around for Toye.

“He’s over there.” Luz pointed out as he gestured with is thumb over his shoulder.

“Oh, I just, uh, wanted to thank him for-“ you began.

“-yeah, yeah we know. He’s over there.” Malarkey interjected pointing down the street.

You feel yourself get flustered so you scamper off to where they said Joe was. As you walk through the rubble that Carentan has become, you see Toye standing in a circle with a few of the other guys from Easy. He throws his cigarette butt on the ground, stomping it out with his boot before he turns and sees you.

His face lights up when he saw you walking up.

“Hey there she is!” Guarnere hailed.

Bill met you and extended his hand for you to shake, which you obliged.

“Good to see you, Bill.”

“Glad to see you up and about, doll.” He pulled you in closer, “Someone’s been real worried about you since they left you at the aid station, by the way.” He disclosed.

You pull back and met Bill’s face with confusion. He winked and motioned over to Toye with his chin.

“Go on and say hi to him.” Bill added.

You narrow your eyes at him and smile. You slowly approach Toye as he stood there with his hands in his pockets and smirking as he patiently waited for you.

“Hey, Toye.” You squeak.

“Hey, Y/L/N. Good to see you.” He replied with his signature husky voice.

“Well, if it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t be here. Thank you for helping me.” You say as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

You hear Guarnere whistle. You turn around and shake your head at him.

Toye cleared his throat, “It was nothin’.”

You both stood there awkwardly until Bill came over.

“Hey, the guys were going to go to the bar that survived the wreck. You wanna join us later for a few night caps, Y/L/N?”

“Sure, if I can find a place to get cleaned up.”

“Ok it’s that little place over there. We’ll all be there around 1900, aight?”

You knew Bill was scheming something for you and Toye. You look at him suspiciously.

“Ok, I’ll see you guys there later.”

~~~~~~~

You breeze through the front door of the pub and begin scanning the room for the familiar faces of Easy.

“Hey! Y/F/N! Over here!” Guarnere called out waving his hand.

You push through the crowd to get to the table where most of your guys were sitting. You catch Toye playing darts with LT Compton, Luz, and Heffron.

“What can I getchya?” Bill asked.

“Oh, whatever you’re drinking, Bill.” You reply.

“Comin’ right up.” He announced as he walked to the bar.

You look back to Toye and catch his eyes looking at you too. He smiled and raised his glass to you with a wink. You smile back and give him a little wave.

“Here ya go.” Bill returned handing you a pint glass of beer.

You cheers and take a hearty gulp.

“Thanks, Bill.” You say as you squeeze his arm.

~~~~~~~

The night was filled with laughter, banter, and taunts amongst Easy. And somehow, your glass kept getting magically refilled by each of the guys. You had to refuse Malarkey’s offer to buy your next round because you felt your head starting to spin.

“Ok, we’ll slow down.” Don chuckled, “But when you’re ready, I got the next one!”

“Yessir.” You quipped.

You turn towards the dart boards and see that Toye had moved. You began to search the room for him and suddenly stop at the bar where he was talking to a local woman dressed in a tightly fit dress.

You felt a distinct sense of dread mixed with anger, but you weren’t sure why. The longer you watched Toye leaning closer to whisper in her ear while she giggled, the more your rage boiled over inside.

“What’s the matter, doll? You gotta look on ya like you’re gonna murder someone.” You hear Guarnere chime in.

You avert your eyes to the floor.

“It’s nothing.” You say quickly.

Bill looked where you were just looking.

“Well ain’t that a son of a bitch. After all the trouble I went through to set you’s guys up, he goes and finds another bird to chat up.”

You look at Bill, “What do you mean set us up?”

Bill looked at you alarmed.

“Oh, well, I thought you knew. Toye over there has got it real bad for ya. Has ever since basic but he figured he never had a chance. I told him you were a catch and that you had a thing for him too.”

“Oh do I now?” You asked astounded by his response.

“Well, don’tchya?”

“I suppose he’s handsome. Good soldier. But looks like he’s not as sweet on me as you think.” You state as you gesture to Toye by the bar getting disgustingly close to the blonde bombshell.

“Ah, he’s an idiot. He’s just trying to get laid.”

You look at him with daggers behind your eyes. Bill’s eyes widen.

“Uh, what I mean is he don’t care about her, ya know? He’s trying to not think about you because he thinks you’re outta his league.” Bill hastily explained.

“Yeah? Well, I’ll get his attention.” You declare as you storm off towards the bar.

“Ah shit.” Bill mumbled to himself rolling his eyes.

You walk up to a soldier from Fox Company standing a few feet away from where Toye was with his new little friend. You approach the bar and slightly bend over to the surface of the bar and rest your elbows on it. The soldier noticed you right away and a devilish grin appeared across his face.

You look over at him and smile.

“Hey, angel, you’re the prettiest face in here.” He said as he scanned you from head to toe.

You see Toye look over the blonde’s shoulder at you. So you inched closer to the stranger.

“At least someone noticed how hard I worked on my make up tonight.” You say loud enough for Joe to hear.

Toye’s jaw started to tighten. Your plan was working like a charm.

“What are you talkin’ about? You’re a dish!” He returned enthusiastically, “Can I get you a drink?”

“A pint is fine.”

Toye excused himself from the company of his little vixen and approached you with obvious vigor. He stopped so close to you, you can feel his breath on your face.

“You think you should have anymore?” Toye asked in a low gravelly tone.

You were almost a puddle at his feet.

“What’s one more?” You dismiss.

“Hey, buddy, this one’s mine. Get lost.” The Fox soldier warned.

Toye glared at him, a clear warning with his fierce gaze to back off. “Shut up.”

He turned back to you. “You hit your head hard yesterday. You got a concussion, remember? Drinking too much isn’t good for you right now.” He cautioned.

The soldier behind Toye huffed outloud. You bring your face closer to his.

“How about you go on back to your little blonde bunny over there and worry about her?” You say softly staring intensely into his eyes.

You snidely smile and gently push him aside to accept the beer the Fox soldier was holding for you. Toye grabbed your wrist before you could get your fingers around the glass.

“Because I’m worried about you.” He sternly replied.

“Hey, pal, I’m not gonna tell ya-“

Before the guy could finish his sentence, Toye swung and punched him across the face sending him to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“Joe, what the hell is the matter with you?” You bark.

He turned to face you, his teeth clenched and resentment in his eyes.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? You got my attention.” He said raising his arms to the side.

Just then, another Fox Company soldier soared in and tackled Toye. When Guarnere saw Toye get sacked, him and the rest of Easy rushed in, clashing with Fox Company in a battle royalé in the middle of the dance floor.

You grab a bottle of whiskey and force your way into the horde to smash it over the head of one of the opposing soldiers when you suddenly feel your feet swiftly leave the floor, and you find yourself once again thrown over Joe Toye’s shoulder as he rushes out the front door.

You start to push off of his back to look at him.

“What are you doing?? Put me down, NOW! This is completely barbaric! Were you raised by wolves??”

“Shut your mouth.” Toye said sharply.

He wouldn’t cave no matter how hard you struggled. He continued to carry you until he got to the house where you had been staying at with the field nurses. He opened the front door and practically threw you onto the couch in the main corridor.

“You’re an absolute animal, Joe Toye.” You snarled at him.

“Yeah? You haven’t even seen the worst of it yet.” He retorted.

You stood up, only to lose your balance and fell backward on to the couch again.

“Well save it.” You spit back crossing your arms, “You can go now. I’m sure that little dish at the bar is waiting on you.”

Toye furrowed his eyebrows at you, “You’re the only one even thinking about her. I haven’t even given her a second thought since you walked through the door of that place!”

You scoff, “Sure, Joe. Didn’t seem like it when your hands were all over her like a magnet.” You pointed out as you stood up slowly.

“Yeah?” He queried as he closed the gap between the two of you, “You mean like this?”

He roughly grabbed you by the waist and kneaded your hips with his strong calloused hands as he pulled you into him. Your faces so close, you thought he was going to kiss you, but he only hovered over your mouth. You were a deer in the headlights, your words caught in your throat somewhere. You almost forgot to take breath when you started to feel faint, so you took in a deep breath through your nose to recover.

You put your hands on his chest and started to push away.

“What are you doing, Toye?” You manage to say.

He jerked you back into him, slithering his one hand across the small of your back while the other one firmly caressed the swell of your ass. You tried to protest, but your voice betrayed you only allowing a whimper to escape from your throat. This man had you a melting hot mess in his arms and it only made you angrier that he was getting you flustered.

“What? Got nothin’ snarky to say now, sweetheart?” He teased.

The fire inside you began to rise, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were turned on, or pissed off.

“I hate you.” You sneered as you slipped out of his grasp and headed for the staircase.

Before you could lift your foot to take the first step, you feel yourself twirled back around and face to face with Toye in his arms.

*“Half of the people in the world are women…Why does it have to be you that stirs me?”* He growled before grabbing the back of your head to bring your mouth to his.

You wanted to fight back and push away again, but your body fought you, leaning into his body and fisting his uniform jacket to pull him as close as possible to you. You part your lips to allow his tongue to pass and explore yours. You playfully nip at his bottom lip eliciting a deep guttural groan from him. His hands scoured your body as his hips instinctively pushed his hard on against you. You dig your nails into his shoulders as you moan into his mouth.

You pull back, “Let’s take this upstairs.”

Toye only replied with a mischievous grin, then picked you up bridal style to carry you up the stairs. When you direct him to your room, he set you down to secure the door. Right at the moment he turned around, you forced him against the door and hungrily kiss him while unraveling his tie.

He grabbed you by the shoulders swinging you around pinning you against the door with a ‘thud’ then placed his hand around your throat. He tightened his grip enough to make a point he was in charge, but not hard enough to alarm you. You instinctively grab his wrist with both hands as you clenched your thighs together, hoping to get some friction against your core and to prevent the wetness from dripping down your leg.

You hissed through your teeth as a smile stretched across your face. Toye pressed himself harder against you, the bulge in his pants grinding into your pelvis. You slide one hand away from his wrist gradually finding your way to his belt buckle. His fingers around your neck increased their grip.

You ran your tongue along your lower lip. He looks from your eyes to your mouth as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly scooped you up from behind your thighs wrapping your legs around his waist and carried you over to the bed, dropping you on your back onto the mattress.

He removed his tie, then with one hand unbuckled his belt all the while staring at you like a starved wolf about to pounce on his prey. You scoot to the edge of the bed and start to unbutton your uniform top. He situated himself between your spread knees at the edge of the bed.

You look up at him through your lashes and smile as you start to work on removing his pants. Your top partially open with your cleavage peaking through, he fisted the front with both hands and yanked the blouse off your shoulders. You wiggle out of the shirt and drop his pants and briefs as he removed his uniform top.

Now you were both ravenous for eachother just yanking off articles of clothing and throwing them carelessly onto the floor. Finally when he slid your panties off, a devilish grin graced his face when he saw how wet you were for him.

He looked at you roguishly as he glided two of his fingers up and down your drenched slit.

“Is this all from me?” His gruff honeyed voice had you melting in his hand.

You nod without breaking eye contact. He crawled over you, caging you in between his brawny arms. As his hardened dick rested on top of your center, he started to grind into you, coating the tip of his cock with your slick between your folds.

You couldn’t help but arch your back, rhythmically moving your hips with his to feel him rub against your clit. Your needy sighs spurred him on, knowing he was making you feel so good.

“Oh my God, Toye-“

“No. No more ‘Toye.’ I want to hear you say my name.” He commanded.

You stare at him.

“Fucking say it.” He ordered.

“Joe…” you breathed as you playfully nip at his lower lip, greedily locking onto his mouth.

He lifted you by the ass and pushed his length through your dripping entrance with one fleeting thrust forward.

You gasp then wrap your legs around his waist, waiting for the ride to begin. Joe unleashed over a year’s worth of pent up rage and frustration from the war onto you, railing into you in almost a deliciously painful pace. He was rough, and aggressive, yet attentive and sensual.

He sat up resting on his heels and angled you closer into him by hugging your thighs against him and driving into you, hitting that spot that had you edging to your finish.

He feels your walls constricting around his cock, and starts to slow his tempo. You look at him with a pout.

All you could manage was a strained, “Why?”

He pulled out and hastily flipped you onto your hands and knees. He reached around your front under your arms once again grabbing your throat with his perfect hand. He pulls you back until your back was flush with his chest.

He guided the back of your head to rest on his shoulder before he turned to your ear.

“You think that fucking Fox Company chump could’ve done this for you?” He hissed.

You feel his grip constricting your neck. You’re so fucked out you can’t help but laugh.

“Fucking answer me, sweetheart. You think that asshole’s got anything on me?” His voice rumbling in your ear like thunder.

You start to pant, your bare chest and peaked nipples heaving from overstimulation and restriction of oxygen.

“No, Joe. Never.” You huffed.

You feel his lips curl into a smile against your jawline. He nipped at your ear.

“That’s right, baby.” He purred before he thrusted you forward on all fours.

He lined his dick up with your slippery pussy and entered you with a sweet push forward until he bottomed out. He plummeted into you, spanking you occasionally while his hips slammed into you.

“My God, Joe.” You moaned pushing back into him so he can get inside you as deep as possible.

“Yeah, scream my name so all Fox Company can hear.”

He had a vice grip on your waist, guiding you back everytime his hips came forward. The slams of his front against your ass grew steadily louder with groans and grunts between the two of you.

His stride began to stagger, and you could feel him pulsate inside you.

“I’m getting close, sweetheart.” You hear his low rugged voice from behind you.

“Me too, Joe.”

“I know, I can feel you squeezing on me. Let go, baby.” He hummed.

He reached around finding your clit and began rubbing hard circles onto the bud.

You close your eyes and focus on the sensation of where his hands were and the throbbing of his cock inside you then hearing his voice roar,

“Come on, baby, let go for me.”

He chased your orgasm until he felt your walls fluttering around his cock. You throw your head back practically howling as ropes of Joe’s cum released over and over again inside you. A guttural grunt left Joe’s lips as he groped your ass to have something to hold onto to steady himself.

Sweat glistened on his chiseled torso while he caught his breath. He snatched the hand towel by the basin next to the bed to clean you up after he pulled out. He plopped onto the bed next to you, pulling you into him to hold you.

You each sigh, content and relaxed in eachother’s afterglow.

“Your little bunny friend is going to be heart broken.” You joke.

Joe chuckled, “Yeah, I have that effect on people.”

You giggled.

“I got my girl right here.” He added.

Joe looked down adoringly at you with your head on his shoulder, sensing his eyes were on you, you look up at him. He gently kissed your lips, then rubbed his nose on the tip of yours.

~~~~~~~

#band of brothers #hbo war #101st airborne #easy company #ww2 #joe toye #kirk acevedo #Joe Toye smut #joe toye x reader #Joe Toye x female reader #Joe Toye x medic #medic #band of brothers smut #bill guarnere #eugene roe #donald malarkey #george luz #one shot

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wordsaresimple-imnot · 9 months ago

Text

That final line - Joe Liebgott x F!Reader

Summary: Things have changed between Joe and Reader after bearing witness to the Concentration camp. They moved from being best friends to something more emotionally intimate. Now that the war in Europe is over will they cross the last line and become physically intimate?

Warnings: 18+ content (smut, p in v) angst-ish (mentions of war & concentration camp), comforting each other, tooth rotting fluff at end, she/her pronouns (no use of y/n or 1st person POV, but told from Liebgott's perspective sorta).

A/N: I have the biggest respect for the real life heroes of WWII (and all other wars, past & current), this work & all other works is based on the actor(s) and character(s) portrayed in the Band of Brothers series.

A/N pt 2: I love how this turned out. Basically this is just my own self-indulgence wish that I could have held and taken care of Liebgott after that scene of him crying in the truck. As always, let me know what you think! I tried a different writing perspective and I like it, hopefully you do too. Comments, likes, and reblogs make me happy and feel validated!

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Joe Liebgott would forever be a different man. Easy Company had just liberated Kaufering IV but that included locking the poor souls back up for the medics to be able to try and get them back from the brink of death. The whole thing had left Joe feeling broken and full of pure rage and despair he didn't know how to get rid of it. So he grabbed a bottle of wine and wondered till he found a tree isolated enough he wouldn't easily be found. He just needed space.

He'd been alone for hours, judging by how low the sun was hanging, bottle long since empty, and eyes sore and dry from tears when he heard a twig snap. Looking around the tree, his heart both swelled and shattered at the sight of the person walking towards him. She was his best friend, been that way since Toccoa and all through the war thus far. The only person that could calm him down when his hot-headedness got the better of him and always had his back in every combat situation. He never had to worry when she was around. She was also the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen and had long since accepted that his heart would always speed up a little when she was in eyesight. While his heart had the usual reaction at seeing her, he couldn't help but feel broken anew at the sadness on her face and emptiness in her eyes. He wasn't the only one tore up from their recent experience.

"I've been looking for you everywhere." She speaks barely above a whisper as she drops down next to him, already leaning against his arm.

"I'm sorry, I just had to get away for a while. I should have found you and brought you with me." He leans over to drop a kiss on the top of her head.

There's a beat of silence and then she speaks again, still in a low whisper, "Do you think they'll make it?"

The words are a dagger to his already bruised and bleeding heart. He gives a small sniff, trying to hold back the fresh tears.

"I don't know." He feels her turn her body towards him and knows she's taking in his appearance detail by detail.

"You can let it out, Joe. I know this is tearing you up. Please don't hold it in and let it destroy you." One hand grasps his while the other gently takes his chin and turns his head so their eyes meet. He tries to push the emotions back down and come up with something to say, but he loses all resolve when her hand moves to cup his cheek and wipe away a stray tear that falls out.

Joe is suddenly wrapping his arms around her, pressing his face in the crook of her neck and letting it all out. He feels her shift them so he's laying mostly on her, her back against the tree and arms tightly wrapped around him. One hand is gripping the back of his jacket tightly, holding him to her, the other is gently stroking his head, and when he feels the side of his face getting wet he knows she's crying too.

They stay like that for hours, until the sun is nearly gone and all tears have been let out. Even after the tears, they don't move, finding too much comfort in holding each other. The only thing that gets them finally moving is their stomachs growling. Joe gets up first, holding his hand out to help her up and starts walking them back to find some food. He looks down briefly when he feels her intertwine their fingers and give his hand a squeeze. The first smile he's had in days makes it way across his face and he squeezes her hand back.

As the days dragged on ahead, their bond grew even tighter. There was a new level of safety and vulnerability that blossomed. Hands would brush more often, hugs turned tighter and longer, if they were able to they'd often be found napping together tangled limbs and all. It was as natural as breathing to seek the other out and before Joe knew it, he was hit with the realization that he was head-over-heels in love with his best friend.

The popping of yet another champagne bottle drags Joe from his mulling and takes in the sight around him with a smile. They are in the Eagles Nest, the war in Europe is over and everyone is finally able to relax and celebrate. He's sitting by Webster and Perco, watching the other's talk and laugh, already more than a little drunk. His smile widens when he catches her eye, sitting next to Malarkey and they salute each other from across the room.

"You ever gonna make a move, Lieb?" Perco's question lands like a bomb right in his stomach.

"What the hell are you talking about?" He looks at the man next to him like he's crazy, but inside he's frantic. Is it that obvious?

"Oh come on, Liebgott. The two of you have been attached at the hip the whole war, even back at training. We've all noticed the stolen looks between you. The wars over, just go for it." Webster gives him a shove, pointedly ignoring the glare Joe shoots at him.

"I gotta take a leak." Joe abruptly stands and leaves before either of them can continue their pestering. They're right, he knows they're right. Since accepting his feelings, the only thing that's been holding him back has been the on-going war. Sure there's still Japan to figure out but right now, their immediate part is over and he doesn't have to worry about dying and leaving her or worse losing her any second to a bullet or bomb.

Not actually needing the bathroom, he finds himself wondering the halls of the Eagles Nest and randomly picking a room to go into. It's spacious with a sitting area, a large comfortable bed sitting against the back wall, a door leading to an adjoining bathroom next to it and doors to the right leading to a balcony. He heads to the balcony, throwing the doors open and leans against the railing taking in the mountains and open valley. It's so quiet and peaceful, he doesn't know how to reconcile it with the horrors the owner and occupants have done to the people of this land.

"Why am I always having to search for you?" A soft, happy voice speaks behind him. Joe turns around and feels his breathe catch in his throat at how beautiful and easy going she looks, leaning around the doorframe to the balcony. When he didn't respond, she stands up a little straighter. "What? Is there something on my face?"

Joe shakes his head and moves to stand in-front of her, raising his hand to trail a finger down her cheek. "You're beautiful."

"How drunk are you?" Her voice is playful, but Joe knew his words were having an effect on her based on the blush she now had.

"Not even tipsy. But drunk or sober, you're still beautiful." His hand cups her cheek, tilts her head up a little to fully meet his eyes and he decides to cross that final line. "I love you. I love you fully and completely; body, mind, and soul. I need you, more than I need to breathe. If you don't feel the same, that's fine. I will lock my heart away to keep you in my life however you wish to be. But the war here is done and I'm out of reasons to not tell you how I feel. Tell me you don't feel the same and I'll respect that, but if you feel even close to what I feel please let me know."

Joe see's tears form in her eyes and for a heartbreaking second he's sure she's going to tell him 'no' and walk away. Then he feels her hands on his face and holds his breathe as she rises on her toes, stopping when her lips are barely brushing his.

"I love you, Joe. I'm yours; body, mind and soul." And then her lips are pressing against his and Joe thinks he's died and gone to heaven.

Their kiss is passionate and slow, taking full advantage that they don't have to rush and can take their time exploring. Joe starts nudging her backwards, back into the main room and towards the bed. A line of clothes marks their path as they help each other be rid of them, kissing freshly exposed shoulders and necks as they go. Soon enough they've managed to be rid of everything and tumble onto the bed in a heap.

Joe leans back just enough to take in the site of her underneath him. Face flushed, lips swollen and glossy from kissing, hair spread out like a halo, chest rising and falling hard as she tries to catch her breathe. He leans his head down pressing kisses to her neck, trailing down her collarbone, around the swell of her breast and ending at her nipple. He takes his time delivering languid licks and sucks, making her skin pucker and rise. Not wanting to leave the other one out of the fun, his hand cups, massages and pinches a little on the flesh there, his other hand hasn't stopped caressing any part of her skin he can reach.

If he has any doubts of how he's making her feel, the gasps and moans falling from her lips dispel them quickly. Soon enough her hands are in his hair and scratching down his back as she wraps her legs around his waist pulling him closer. Joe stops his minstrations on her breast with a groan when his erection is pressed right against her wet core and he can't help but roll his hips into her again. This time they both moan.

"Joe, please. I need you." Her voice is ragged and the lustful look in her eyes almost has him finishing right then. He shifts to the side a little, giving him room to run his hand down her side and cup her core. She's soaking and his brain short circuits a little.

His fingers make quick work of making sure she is coated properly, detouring to her clit to rub until she starts to whimper and pull at him. As he meets her eyes, he raises his fingers to his lips and sucks her taste off of them.

"Goddamn, baby. Next time I'm spending hours down there." He rushes out as he positions himself at her entrance. "But if I don't have you soon, I might die." He looks at her for confirmation that she's ready and when she nods, he starts pushing in slowly.

They groan together at the feel of him sliding into place like a puzzle piece coming home. Once he's bottomed out, he drops down to his elbows, putting more of himself on top of her and rests his forehead against hers. Her thighs tighten around him as she turns her head to kiss him.

"Move. Please." She bites his bottom lip at the same time she scratches his back again.

"Yes ma'am." He presses his lips firmly to her, swallowing the moan she lets out as he pulls out and quickly snaps back in. He finds a steady rhythm, angling his hips just right so he's brushing that sweet spot within her. Her back bows, pressing her chest further into his and exposes her neck to his lips. He doesn't waste any time placing a hard bite where it'll be hard to hide the mark already forming. This spurs something in her and soon her hands are in his hair, tugging his head to the side as she returns the favor.

Joe can tell she starts to get close to her release, as her walls start fluttering around him and her moans start becoming more frequent. He raises himself up, gripping the headboard with one hand and dropping his other hand down to rub her clit.

"I know you're close baby. Look at me as you let go." His voice is deep and commanding. Her eyes immediately lock onto his and his movements pick up speed. A few more hard thrusts and a pinch on her clit and she's moaning his name and clamping down around him. The feeling of her combined with his name falling from her lips like a prayer has him falling right behind her.

As they come down from their highs, they exchange slow kisses and 'I love you's'.

Bonus scene:

Not wanting to waste a beautiful day, the guys had decided to have an impromptu baseball game. Joe stood in his spot, waiting to bat next, sending a smile and wave to the stands where his girl was watching and cheering. They were getting ready for the next play when Winters came strolling across the field. They all crowded around him, fully expecting to hear their deployment orders for fighting Japan. Instead he was giving them the best news they'd heard since VE day. Japan had surrendered. The war, all of it, was finally over.

All the guys started cheering, exchanging hugs and pats on the backs. Joe see's her coming towards them at an easy jog, a curious look on her face. He gives her the biggest smile and runs right up to her, lifting her in his arms and spins her around.

"Japan surrendered. It's over. We're going home." Her smile matches his as she fully takes in his words and hugs him back. Just as quick as it started, Joe stops spinning her and sets her down on her feet, then he's down on one knee, holding her hands.

"Marry me. Come back home with me. Or wherever you wanna live. I don't care. Just marry me, please." Everything dulls around the edges as he holds his breathe, waiting for her response.

"Yes, Joe!" She smiles bright enough to blind the sun and then starts laughing when he jumps back up and starts spinning her around again. The only sound is the cheering of their friends and their hearts beating in sync.

#joe liebgott #joe liebgott x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x reader #hbo war #hbo band of brothers

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luminouslywriting · 7 months ago

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hello! could you do headcanons of BoB mens with a nurse?? 💕

Hi sweet Nonny! I have a soft spot for this particular idea, so I hope you enjoy! As always, my requests are open and I don't mind spam!

Cut for length, more under the cut, light spice sprinkled in:

Dick Winters:

-Winters has a lot on his mind and falling in love with a field nurse is admittedly not on his radar....so that being said, it's a gradual thing that he's barely even aware of

-But you know who is totally clocking the way that he checks on you, takes the time to talk to you even when he's busy, and always is super kind to you? Lewis Nixon. Lew picks up on this and brings it to Winter's attention.

-He's not exactly trying to start anything with the war on, but once he's aware of the feelings, he tries to maintain professional decorum and courtesy.

-However....he can't help but be worried about you, especially during the winter months. It's probably at this juncture that he lets you know that he's thinking about you and worried often.

-He's very sweet and definitely needs a partner where there's an equality in taking care of one another, so this balances out beautifully.

-Also loves when you medically info-dump, he finds it adorable haha

Lewis Nixon:

-Immediately becomes besties with you in Toccoa because his brain cells told him you'd be the best person to be friends with. He was right, he just didn't expect to have a thing for you amidst his divorce.

-The friendship is honestly a lifeline to him and you keep him going for a while—there's just a lot of being there for one another and checking in on one another.

-It's not just friendship stuff though; he's a chronic flirt and can't help that the two of you already act like an old married couple (in the most positive and great way possible)

-When the divorce goes through near the end of the war, he realizes that it's all working out for the best anyway; you've been by his side the entire time anyway

-Has a really sweet confession with you when you're in Austria and expresses that he couldn't have done any of what he did without you

-Also is super supportive of career and life goals that you have for when you get back to the states

Ronald Speirs:

-Honestly, he sees you as one of the few people that he trusts implicitly because you're just good at your job anyway and you're there to help the men, not to gain glory

-It automatically endears you to him in a way that literally no one else (sans the medics lol) will ever understand

-I think the relationship honestly is a bit back and forth/will they-won't they for a while....and that leads to some hooking up casually in between missions or whenever you two can get a free second

-And he does want to make things official, but he also doesn't want you to feel committed to him and then have something happen

-So he doesn't commit to admitting how he feels until after the end of the war, at which point he romantically shows up at your home and confesses everything

-Please just say yes, he's been in love with you FOREVER

Buck Compton:

-Probably meets you when he takes one of his friends to the aid station and you're there

-He's immediately lovestruck with practical heart eyes....and yes, Donald Malarkey has to hear way too much about you from this point onwards haha

-Writes home about you to his family and starts making little visits to the aid station unannounced when there's precious little downtime to see how you're doing

-Things are a casual sweet thing and nothing really happens between the two of you since it's war and there's really not time for that

-But then he ends up at the aid station after Bastogne and is so mortified about everything and doesn't want to talk to you at all. He's ashamed of how he left things before he ended up back at home because he didn't really tell you goodbye or anything.

-Once the war is over though, he tracks you down to tell you that he's sorry and that he loves you.

Carwood Lipton:

-Honestly? You're a source of light during the hard times and just as much of a mom as he is a dad haha. The two of you are such mother hens over all of the men in Easy Company, no one can win if the two of you team up.

-That being said, you're also obnoxiously trying to get the other person to take care of themselves.

-He's not about to say anything to you, despite his many letters home to his sisters and his mother about you

-But when he gets pneumonia? After Bastogne? Just take care of him and coddle him and love on him a bit. All bets will be off the table as to when he tells you that he has feelings.

-Probably starts a relationship with you once you're both in Austria and asks you to marry him before the end of the war

-Everyone in Easy Company regards you two as the mom and dad since Nixon and Winters aren't around as much haha

Joe Liebgott:

-Doesn't wanna go to the aid station, doesn't think he needs anyone to help him, doesn't even wanna have medical attention—and all of these complaints literally shut him up the minute he sets eyes on you

-And suddenly he's very chilled out and okay to be there?? Yeah, he's chill now.

-Some light flirting and touchiness here or there, but nothing too serious

-He probably even convinces you to have a fling in the hospital closet or something—war is war, after all

-But doesn't consider anything you two have serious until after episode 9 and then he realizes just what you mean to him and he has a whole revelatory period where he treats you like you're God or something

-Absolutely proposes before you make it out of Austria haha

Donald Malarkey:

-This sweet man? Who constantly is taking his friends to and from the aid station and hanging out and checking on people? Absolutely and easily makes friends with you.

-It's not necessarily flirting, per say. He's very respectful and very sweet about mentioning that you're low on supplies to higher ups or asking if the aid station is still doing okay.

-Doesn't even realize he has feelings for you?? Probably not until the very end of the war.

-And then he's freaking out because you're all gonna be going your separate ways in the next few weeks and how is he gonna find you then??

-Well it's quite simple really, you already gave him your address haha. So he spends some time at home before making a trip out to see you.

-It's not a "date date" but it's definitely a date and it just progresses from there lol

Eugene Roe:

-Literally Easy Company's shining ship of dreams?? Like if you and Roe don't make it, then there's no hope for anyone else haha.

-You two have worked together since Toccoa and were always close, speaking in your own practical secret language and exchanging smiles, stealing moments with one another

-In fact, they wouldn't be surprised if the two of you aren't already married. Except for the fact that you're not and the two of you are being SLOW AF about your feelings.

-In Bastogne though? It's a whole catalyst for him telling you how he feels because you narrowly make it out of the church before it collapses and it's a whole shitshow.

-And he's thinking about the fact that he almost lost you and you would've never known how loved you are or how much he'd miss you

-Yeah you two are getting married in Europe before the end of the war haha

Bill Guarnere:

-This man is an escapee from the hospital wing multiple times. And those multiple times, he struck up a pretty good friendship with you.

-He wasn't happy to be there initially, but once he found out you were from Philly too, he chilled out completely and the two of you became great friends

-Bill writes you when he's in the field since you're always back in the hospitals at London

-And Joe knows that he may or may not have a crush on you, and is always prodding him to just admit things to you

-But it isn't until they show up together in the hospital, both missing legs, that things are admitted

-He's pleasantly surprised and shocked when you kiss him and tell him that he took way too long and you're too committed to him at this point haha

Joe Toye:

-A sweet man like this ends up at the aid station and isn't too happy about it—but he takes his medicine like a man and is very respectful.

-You don't really want to clear him to go back into the field but you do, somewhat begrudgingly.

-And when he ends up back in the hospital, leg missing and in total distress, it's you that keeps him centered and keeps him going.

-He doesn't realize until he gets back to the states that he misses you, so he starts writing you letters. He doesn't expect anything to come of writing you—who would want to end up with him, after the accident, after all?

-And slowly, the letters from him stop. And so you just roll up one day?? Like SIR, I LIKE YOU—WRITE ME BACK!

-The wedding is the cutest thing ever and only a few members of Easy Company are invited.

George Luz:

-He hits on you from Day 1 in Toccoa. And when you give him a shot in the butt, it shuts him right up and he does not flirt with you (verbally anyway) anymore after that haha.

-He becomes your most vocal supporter and parrots your instructions back to the men because you know what you're talking about

-Checks in on you after each jump to see how you're doing and make sure that the men aren't treating you rudely

-You two probably hook up after Bastogne and his near-death experiences, leading to a budding relationship between the two of you

-Don't worry, Lipton ignores it so he doesn't have to deal with the consequences lol

-And George? He's absolutely ready to marry you and proposes the same day that the war ends

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beautifulbluejay · 7 months ago

Text

Three Moments

Band of Brothers

Richard ‘Dick’ Winters x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Sobel Being a Jerk

𝘿𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙧: 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘢𝘳��.

Summary — Winters recalls the three moments that made him fall in love with you.

Three moments. All it took was three moments and Dick Winters knew he was a goner. If Winters was honest with himself, he was gone from the very first moment, the moment he saw her.

It was 1942 at Camp Toccoa and Easy Company had just finished their basic military training. They were in the mess hall, celebrating, Winters standing off in a corner speaking to Nix, taking sips of his non-alcoholic drink and watching the boys that made up the 2nd Battalion. He allowed the corners of his mouth to turn upwards as his eyes lingered on the faces of the friends he had made, each of them getting progressively drunker and, in turn, the hall getting louder. But the moment she walked into the large room, everyone fell silent.

It was a shock to see a woman standing in the middle of Toccoa, but not shocking enough to be able to hear crickets chirping. If she had been dressed as a secretary or a nurse, perhaps the hollars of the drunk men would have simply quieted for a moment before rousing again. No, the silence was because she was wearing an airborne uniform.

Winters was awestruck, not just because she was a woman standing in a sea of men wearing a uniform with the insignia of Easy Company on it, but because she was the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon. Sure, her physical features were attractive, but the aura that seemed to surround her is what truly made the woman stand out. The way she stood with the strength and assertiveness of any man in this room, but also how her eyes moved across the hall, kind and analytical. However, she beamed with excitement and energy.

It was when Sobel stepped up in front of her that her eyes finally reached Dick, pausing on him for a split second longer than they had on anyone else. A hint of a shy smile graced her perfect features, making Dick’s eyes only grow wider before he began to blink rapidly, as if he imagined it. Her eyes moved away from him, her attention returning to the room.

Winters cleared his throat, swallowing hard and looking down at his drink as to attempt to calm the heat that had risen to his cheeks. He could feel Nix smirking in amusement from beside him, surely having noticed the bashful look on his friend’s face, hiding his smile with a sip of his drink. Dick lightly elbowed him in the ribs, but this only made Nixon smirk wider.

“This is Sergeant (Y/L/N) and she will be joining Easy Company under my direction as we move into jump school. I expect you all to treat her with the same respect and camaraderie that you treat your fellow soldiers,” Sobel finished speaking, leaving the girl to the wolves.

Winters expected her to be terrified, to freeze with the eyes of a mess hall of men on her, but she didn’t. She smiled brightly, finding her seat amongst her new company soldiers, and the sound once again returned to the room, with one more voice joining the chorus.

In the following days, Winters found out where she came from. Apparently, she had completed basic training in an experimental task force of female soldiers, specializing in sharpshooting and snipers. However, it seemed that some of the male higher-ups did not believe that a group of all-female soldiers would fare well on their own, so the group had been disbanded and the women sporadically placed in different companies that did not have sniper specialized members. In a way, coming to Easy Company was a demotion as she had been a Second Lieutenant in her old group. She still holds that title, but is being referred to as a Sergeant as to not ‘confuse’ anyone, or so Sobel put it.

While Sobel had been the one to say he expected his men to treat her the same as any other soldier, he was the only one who refused to follow his own rules. He picked on her incessantly, doing his best to make her resign or find something he could court marshall her for, but she was resilient and determined. Sobel couldn’t crack her, no matter how hard he tried. Every attempt he made at breaking her down only seemed to strengthen her resolve.

It was the day that Sobel had finally had enough of Y/N’s lack of reaction that the second moment took place. Sobel seemed extra angry that day, lining up the company and yelling in each soldier’s face one at a time. When he came up to Y/N, his face seemed to darken even more, almost twitching in excitement at the thought that this was the day he would break her.

His screaming started off as it does with every soldier in his company, the topic being nothing in particular. However, it suddenly got very personal and revealed Sobel’s very obvious true feelings on the matter of a woman being assigned to his company. He screamed about how she was a weak casualty, slowing the company down and only waiting to be killed. He yelled at her that she needed to return home to her womanly duties and that she was a waste of space and air in this camp.

Winters nearly stepped in at this point, his jaw clenched and his hands balling at his side. He convinced himself that the anger he felt building in his chest he would feel for any of his men that were being chewed out in the same way. Perhaps this was true, but perhaps not.

He did not have the chance to react, however, as Sobel finally got his reaction. Although, it was not one that he wanted.

“You are completely and utterly useless!” He finished screaming, the entire world around them falling silent. Y/N’s eyes shifted, staring right at Sobel.

An amused smirk found its way on her lips and she almost looked like she was having trouble holding in laughter. Sobel’s face began to grow even redder, giving her enough satisfaction to shift her eyes away from him and ahead once again, at attention.

“You are nothing,” Sobel spoke, his tone deep and filled with venom. He turned away from her, mumbling to himself as he began to walk back up to Winters, who was standing in front of the group. “Couldn’t even shoot a target ten feet in front of her,” Sobel muttered.

“You wanna bet on it?” Her voice rang out, causing Sobel to stop in his tracks. He spun around on his heel, glaring daggers at the girl, who was staring back at him.

“What was that, Lieutenant?” He spat, marching back up to her, expecting her to return to attention and stay silent. She didn’t.

“You said I can’t even shoot a target ten feet in front of me,” she spoke, her voice steady and sure. “How about we test that? You and I both take three shots at three targets from four hundred yards, just to make it easy,” she grinned. “Whoever shoots the most targets with the most accuracy wins.”

Sobel was silent for a split second, clenching and unclenching his jaw, the gears in his mind turning. He began to shake his head, knowing that humiliation was too great of a possibility.

“I’ll do you one better. I win and you clean the latrines for a month,” she said, all eyes on her. Winters stared at the girl in a state of both atonishment and amusement. Normally he would not condone insulting superiors, but this was a different case. “And if you win, I’ll leave Easy Company.” Winters could see the glint in her eye. She knew that Sobel wouldn’t pass that chance up.

The targets had been set up and Sobel took his place, a rifle in hand. He raised his rifle, aiming at the first target, his hands shaking. He missed the first target entirely, skimmed the second, and just barely hit the corner of the third. Obviously irritated, Sobel stepped away from his spot, shoving the rifle into Y/N’s hands as she stepped up to the plate. It took her seconds to line up and take her shot, her posture tall and her breathing steady, moving the gun swiftly to shoot at the second and third targets. She hit all three targets, dead in the middle.

Unfortunately, Sobel didn’t end up cleaning the latrines, but everyone knew that would never happen. He did, however, leave Y/N alone after that and she only became more respected and revered by the men of Easy Company.

The third moment occurred the night the company had earned their jump wings, graduating from training and preparing to move on to England. Winters had left the rowdy group of soldiers in the main hall of the camp to get a breath of fresh air, walking along the gravel pathways with his hands in his pockets. He found himself wandering over to the grassy field at the edge of the camp, some invisible tether drawing him to it.

As he came up to the edge of the field, Winters realized what had drawn him to it. In the middle of the grass, sitting in a patch of wildflowers, he saw the figure of Y/N. Her face was pointed up towards the sun, her eyes closed and a soft smile resting on her face.

Dick considered turning around and walking away, not wanting to disturb the girl’s comfortable solitude. He stood there for a moment, admiring her from afar as he debated his options in his mind. Finally deciding he didn’t want to bother her, he took a step away from her, his foot pressing upon a stick, the snapping sound alerting Y/N to his presence.

She opened her eyes and turned her head, smiling at Dick’s warming face as he chuckled nervously. She waved him over, inviting him to join her. Winters ignored the twisting in his stomach, slowly making his way towards her.

“Sorry to disturb you,” He apologized as he reached her, standing a few paces behind her with his hands still in his pockets.

“You didn’t,” She shook her head, turning to smile at him once again.

She has the most beautiful smile, he thought to himself, allowing a split second of indulgence. Winters wanted to stop his mind there, before he allowed it to run free with thoughts of her, but he couldn’t stop it as he took in the scene in front of him. She sat in the soft grass, her fingers fiddling with picked wildflowers, the calming landscape of the meadow laid out at her feet. Her hair was loose and fell in soft waves down her back, a few strands tucked behind her ear. The setting sun illuminated her face, the rays mirroring a halo around her head as she looked at him, making Winters wonder if she had been an angel sent by God.

“You can join me, if you’d like,” she spoke, snapping Dick out of his thoughts. He watched as she turned back around to continue fiddling with the flowers in her hands, a soft breeze making the grass around them sway. He smiled warmly to himself, taking a seat beside her on the ground.

“What are you doing out here?” He asked her, doing his best to focus his eyes on the serene in front of him and not the girl by his side.

“I’m hiding,” she spoke with an amused smile. “I’ve never really been one for big parties.”

“So, you’ve never been dancing?” Winters asked, mentally smacking himself in the forehead. What kind of question was that?

“I’ve been dancing. I love it, in fact, but typically the testosterone is evened out a bit,” she joked, making Dick laugh. “I can’t believe it,” she continued, setting the wild flowers down and focusing on him. “I just made the eternally poised and professional Second Lieutenant Winters laugh and it wasn’t even a good joke!”

“Oh, c’mon, it wasn’t that bad,” he smiled at her, watching as she shook her head with a laugh.

“Please, if I had tried that one on Nixon, he would’ve just stared at me and walked away.”

“Well lucky you that I’m not Nixon,” Winters turned his head, staring straight out at the field ahead. Y/N and Nixon had become close friends over the past few weeks while Winters tried to avoid being alone with Y/N as much as possible. He couldn’t afford any distractions and anytime he was with her he was distracted, but he chose to forget that fact at the moment.

“Trust me, I feel very lucky,” she smiled at him without any hint of sarcasm. She was being completely honest.

“So is that what you’ll do when you get home?” Winters changed the subject before he lost himself in her eyes completely. “Go dancing, I mean?”

“Among other things,” she spoke, with a soft smile, her gaze focusing on her lap.

“What other things?” He pried.

She bit her lip, his eyes darting down to her mouth to watch the action before forcing them on something else.

She let out a long breath lifting her head. “I’m going to continue college and earn my degree,” she began. Winters hid his surprise, learning that she was a collegiately educated woman, something very uncommon in their day and age. “I want to watch my younger siblings grow up and my parents grow old. I want to get married to a man who loves me and raise a family on a plot of land like this,” she motioned towards the field around them. “I want to watch my children grow up and make families of their own. And then, when God has decided it’s my time, I want to pass away just as everyone should: old in age and surrounded by those they love.”

This was the third moment, the moment that Dick Winters knew that he was completely and eternally in love. Staring at her now, watching the way she smiled softly as she watched the grass and flowers sway in the wind, the breeze pushing back her hair and the sun casting an ethereal glow on her face, Dick Winters knew that he was going to spend the rest of his life with her.

#richard winters x reader #richard ‘dick’ winters x reader #dick winters x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #dick winters

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lostloveletters · 1 year ago

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You Can’t Start a Fire Without a Spark (Ron Speirs x Reader)

Summary: Night falls in Bavaria to victorious revelry, and at the goading of your friends, the lust you've been kindling in secret suddenly burns hot and wild to the touch.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used besides the slightest bit of backstory. Inspired by several Bruce Springsteen songs. This is based on the fictional portrayals in the HBO miniseries and not the real individuals. (Also, hi I’m Battie! This is my first Band of Brothers fic despite being a fan of the miniseries since 2016. Let me know what you think🖤) Do not interact if you’re under 18, are a terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: Inherent power imbalance. Explicit content involving vaginal fingering and unprotected sex.

You weren’t sure how six of you managed to squeeze into a booth together in the Bavarian bar, elbow-to-elbow as you drank beer and shouted over each other. Sitting squished against Talbert, who was squished against Malarkey, one of your legs wasn’t even in the booth. On the other side of the table, Babe, Perconte, and Luz were in the same situation.

Victory in Europe had just been declared. The celebratory feeling filled your lungs with each breath despite the cloud of cigarette smoke that hung over the bar. With the war in Japan still raging on, the likelihood of those without enough points having to endure another drop remained up in the air. One night of fun wouldn’t hurt anybody. No one could say you hadn’t earned it.

Glancing around at your friends, the guys you lived and would’ve died for—even after the war ended, if you were being honest with yourself. You couldn’t imagine being closer with anyone else. Growing up without much of a family, passed around homes of distant relatives and near strangers until you had enough and ventured out on your own as a teen, you’d never had such strong connections before. The only reason you were even allowed to work so closely with Easy Company, was the absence of any next-of-kin, no one to cause a fuss if something went wrong while you were overseas. You were non-combat detail, of course, typing and running errands as needed, but more often than was likely ideal, you found yourself somewhere on the line with the medic training you’d gotten.

You hadn’t been at Toccoa with them, only meeting most of the guys just before D-Day. After Operation Market Garden’s failure in Holland, they came around to you upon the return to Aldbourne, least surprising of whom was Talbert, ever so kindly taking you under his wing when he was recovering from being accidentally stabbed by Smith. The two of you became close friends, and though you heard of his exploits with women in just about every city the company passed through, he seemed hellbent on being your wingman, trying to set you up with at least half a dozen members of Easy to little success.

With the taste of sweet victory and bold German beer on everyone’s lips, declarations of what and who everyone would ideally do to celebrate poured from your friends with little prompting. Knowing you well enough at that point, Tab took the opportunity to get you in on the conversation, the light mood and buzz in your system leaving you more loose-lipped than usual.

“Alright, our company’s eligible bachelorette,” Tab said, conspiratorial mirth in his voice. “Fraternization rules to the dust, which of Easy’s officers would you do your celebrating with?”

Your lips twitched, failing to suppress your smile as your drinking buddies awaited your answer. “Speirs.”

Finishing off the rest of your beer, you stifled your amusement at the clamor that ensued. Undoubtedly the least expected answer, part of Tab’s failure to secure a date for you among his comrades was your infatuation with the legendary captain—closely guarded, until you had a beer or two in you, apparently.

“Speirs?” Babe repeated incredulously.

“No way,” Malarkey said, shaking his head. “No fucking way.”

“They need to get you to one of those headshrinkers,” Perconte said.

“Hold on a minute,” Tab said with an amused smile, trying to reign in the chaos. “Let’s hear her out.”

“You wanna know why?” you asked.

Ever since Speirs stuck with Easy Company after Bastogne, you worked closely with him as you did the other officers, taking notes and keeping memos for them. Speirs often requisitioned you to type up reports for him, finding it easier to dictate what he wanted written to you than typing them himself. Sometimes you found his attention drifting off when it was a more mundane report, his words trailing away while he looked at you, typically slouched on a chair or couch at the end of a long day. You would let yourself take him in, hoping the perceptive man wouldn’t notice the way your eyes trailed up his long, outstretched legs to his disheveled hair.

He provided the most attention to battlefield exploits, and at times you couldn’t keep up with how fast he was speaking or would find yourself a bit startled by some of the gruesome details he relayed. You’d heard the rumors about him. Everyone had. But a disgustingly repressed part of you that’d emerged at some point during the war was secretly thrilled by them, almost hoping they were true.

“Well, you owe us that much,” Luz said.

“I owe you all jack and shit.”

“What if I buy you another drink?”

“I think I’m gonna need another one after hearing this,” Babe muttered.

“Let’s see, why would I sleep with Captain Speirs,” you said, playfully tapping your chin in faux thought. “For starters, he’s fine as hell, which should be reason enough. I like that he’s a no-nonsense kinda guy. He has this intensity that I think is really sexy.”

The cacophony of bewilderment and objection that filled the booth met its slow death when the occupant of the booth behind yours got up. You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry when you saw it was Speirs.

He made his way out of the pub, your light mood with him.

“Oh my god,” you groaned. “Do you think he heard?”

“No way he didn’t,” Malarkey said.

“Fuck, I need to do something before I get demoted or transferred or something.”

Tab grinned. “Well, if you’re not walking straight tomorrow, we’ll know you did something.”

“Shut up, jerk!” you hissed. “I’m in this mess because of you.”

He gave you a mocking salute.

You flipped him off as you got up from the table, running after your CO who more than likely overheard you expressing to your buddies that you’d enthusiastically have sex with him. Of course it happened the one time you actually joined in on their vulgarity.

Unlike his silent stride, your boots pounded against the pavement, announcing your approach to him.

He turned around abruptly, and you nearly fell over your own feet as you stopped in your tracks.

His intense gaze on you felt like being at the end of his rifle’s sight. “Are you drunk, Y/L/N?”

“No—no, sir.”

“Good. I could use your help with a report.”

You stared at him blankly. A report. At ten o’clock at night. “Of course, sir. Anything you need.”

The corners of his lips upturned for a split second. “I’m sure.” Fuck. He’d definitely heard you.

The two of you started off down the street, toward a more residential area wherein officers had requisitioned houses for the US Army’s use for the foreseeable future. Almost dreamily picturesque, tree branches waved at you in the cool night breeze, the surrounding mountains illuminated by the bright fullness of the moon. From the soft glow of street lamps lighting your way, something you’d previously taken for granted, you tried not to stare at him. In the warm glow of that balmy summer evening, however, he looked almost too good to be true. Hair slightly unkempt, the whisper of stubble along his jaw and cheeks, surely his face would feel like heaven between your thighs.

Soldiers in all states of drunkenness ambled up and down either side of the street, hollering and singing in carefree celebration. Speirs placed a hand on the small of your back, guiding you past a group of men who could hardly walk straight. One of them walked right into you, his head nearly colliding with yours.

“Fuck,” the young soldier grumbled under his breath, shooting you a dirty look for being in his way.

Speirs wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you aside to stand in front of you. “Private,” he snapped, staring down the young man who looked like he was about to shit himself. “I advise you get yourself together and watch where you’re going.”

“Yes, sir—Captain Speirs, sir,” he said, turning his attention to you. “Sorry, ma’am.”

You nodded silently, and the private ran off after his buddies.

Speirs turned to you, his hands on your shoulders as his intense gaze searched your face for any sign of injury.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

In Hagenau, one of the replacements had been pestering you the moment he laid eyes on you. At first, you humored him, supposing he needed a friend, as the men who’d been through Normandy and Bastogne were understandably closed-off and tight knit. Thought the new guys were too green, too eager to do something stupid and get someone killed in pursuit of battlefield glory that was too haunting to exist.

Then he started getting handsy, not enough to be outright inappropriate, but enough to make you uncomfortable. You weren’t sure what possessed you to mention it to Speirs when he’d asked you how you were doing one afternoon. His brow furrowed, he gave you a silent nod in response. The replacement had been transferred elsewhere the following day.

Though Speirs stared right at you, there was something far away in his eyes as he squeezed your shoulders.

“I’m fine, sir,” you repeated. “I promise.”

“Hmm? Oh, right,” he said softly.

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, not bothering to offer you one. You were in the minority of people who didn’t smoke, allowing you to leverage the packs in your rations to trade amongst the men. As time went on, you’d leave them on top of your finished reports for Speirs, especially if they were Luckys. You watched silently as he lit the cigarette in his mouth, a shining silver lighter in his hand. His eyes drifted from the flame back to you, though you noticed the slightest spark behind them.

The rest of the walk was uneventful until you reached the house. A few stragglers hung around on the street outside, their voices becoming the slightest bit more hushed as they watched you follow Speirs inside. By the time the front door shut, they’d already begun speculating why the two of you were going to his place so late. With the way the men spread gossip, you could hazard a guess as to what the tale would morph into by the morning. You silently bemoaned the prospect of the night hardly being as interesting as whatever they conjured up.

Following him upstairs, the makeshift office seemed especially cramped with the boxes and papers that were haphazardly spread around the place. It’d probably take weeks to sift through it all, especially since a glance at one of the files appeared to be in German. Getting help wouldn’t be the issue, but rather the fact that none of the members of Easy who knew German were particularly inclined toward office work, becoming restless after an hour or so.

A problem for another time, however. Glancing at the clock, it was nearly half past ten, and you were almost inclined to ask Speirs about coffee, depending on how long he expected the report to take. You sat down at the desk, ready to begin typing the date when you noticed the ink was out.

“Is there any typewriter ribbon around, sir?” you asked.

He nodded. “Should be in one of the drawers.”

You opened the drawer immediately to your right, finding a mess of stationary that had clearly been shoved in carelessly. Or maybe someone had taken something out of it in a hurry. Digging through it, you came up empty, and moved onto the drawer below it. No dice. The one to your left didn’t have typewriter ribbon either, at least, you would have been surprised to find it tucked in with the loot that nearly filled the thing to the brim–shining silverware, glistening jewelry, and trinkets that someone with a keener eye than you had clearly decided were valuable enough to keep.

His extensive looting was an open secret, but a glimpse of this treasure trove was a shock to the system. So entranced by the contents of the drawer, you didn’t hear him walk up beside you until his shadow fell over the necklaces and rings you silently coveted.

He gave you a sly smile, wolfish in the dim lighting. “Haven’t had much of a chance to organize those.”

“They’re beautiful,” you whispered in awe, gingerly touching a pearl necklace.

“Try them on.”

“Are you sure?”

“Go ahead.”

You picked up the string of pearls, a nervousness washing over you at holding something so valuable, something of his. Walking over to the window, the nearest reflective surface you could find, you pulled the necklace on, garish against your uniform. You tried shaking off the odd feeling of playing dress-up in front of your commanding officer, a girlish whim he inexplicably allowed you to indulge in. His expression was unreadable when you turned around for him.

“They suit you,” he finally said, brushing his fingers against the pearls, slowly drifting lower to the exposed skin of your decollete. “Keep them.”

It wasn’t uncommon for him to bring you small gifts every now and then—typewriter ribbon, fountain pens, chocolate, trinkets. You knew better than to question where he got them, as he seemed to give them to you at the perfect moment. The stationary supplies when you were running low on them, chocolate and trinkets when you were feeling down. At times they’d be accompanied by notes from him. Usually short, but so sincere you treasured them more than the gifts. Whenever you’d try to thank him, he’d just shrug, almost dismissing the gesture.

This time, feeling bold in the cover of night, you pressed your lips to his cheek, uttering a quiet “thank you.”

He didn’t react. Disappointed, you moved to sit back down at the desk until he grabbed your arm, gently pulling you back to him.

“Were you telling the truth?” he asked, his voice a husky, demanding whisper. “Back at the bar.”

“Yes.”

“So if I said I’ve wanted you in a bad way since Bastogne?”

You kissed him, an explosion of warmth in your chest as you tangled your fingers in his hair. He settled his hands on your hips, squeezing them with a tenderness that betrayed his longing. Parting your lips for him, you allowed him to deepen the kiss, wanting to see how far he’d take it.

Almost overwhelmed by his gentle intensity, you pulled away from his lips, though his mouth chased yours, capturing yet another kiss from you.

“Show me how you want me,” you pleaded with desperate kisses to his face, trailing down to his throat where you could feel the way he groaned in pleasure at your touch.

“In my room,” he managed to say. “I wanna lay you on the bed and–”

“Anything, anything you want, Ron.”

His lips slightly blushed from the ferocity of your kiss, he parted his mouth as if to speak, but instead took your hand firmly in his.

He led you straight down the nondescript hallway that nevertheless left you feeling turned around, dizzied by your desire for him. A door opened, and you were promptly pulled inside the room. The click of the lock behind you sent a slight shiver down your spine.

Pulled into his arms again, you lost yourself in his fervent kiss, until you reached down, palming his hardening cock through his pants. He moaned into your mouth, the sound only exacerbating the heat between your thighs, the ache inside of you that up until that point had been abated by your fingers, always rushed, never satisfying the urge to be filled–by him, preferably. From the way he felt beneath your hand, he could do all of that and more.

And after the months of silently, almost guiltily lusting after him like a nun, he wanted you too. The ego boost emboldened you. “Did you ever think about me when you were alone?” you asked, giving his bulge a gentle squeeze.

“Yes–fuck,” he groaned.

“Like what?”

“Besides keeping me warm in that goddamn forest? This–I thought of this,” he murmured against your lips. “But I didn’t let myself think of a future with you. I couldn’t have survived if I did.”

“And now?”

“I want everything you’ll give me, sweetheart.”

“Lucky you, that’s exactly what I wanna give.”

He smiled slightly, his hands hastily working to unbutton your shirt. “Lucky–except you’re wearing too many clothes.”

You reached for the pearls, about to take them off when he caught your wrist in his hand.

“Leave them on.” His voice was steady, authoritative, the closest he sounded to Speirs since he scolded the private who walked into you earlier.

Weak in the knees, you acquiesced to the one and only order your captain would give you that night. You otherwise undressed, your uniform in a pile at your feet. Your bra and panties were simple, certainly not the sexy lingerie you’d fantasized about seducing Ron in, but his eyes blazed as if your body were hugged by an inviting satin set. A burst of confidence rushed through you, and you held his gaze as you discarded your bra and panties.

You laid back on the bed as he undressed, watching intently until he was down to nothing more than his underwear, his hard cock straining against the fabric. He pulled them off, and you sucked in a breath at how big he was. Erect, at attention for you, all the more intimidating as he approached, joining you on the bed. His daring in the line of fire sure as hell wasn’t compensating for anything.

He straddled your hips, his eyes taking in your naked form with a primal intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. He reached down, two of his fingers circling your clit, your body trembled beneath his touch. By the way he studied how your face contorted in pleasure as a foreign-sounding moan rose from deep in your chest, you could tell it was payback for your teasing him just minutes before.

His fingers shifted, slipping inside your wet core with ease. He pumped them in and out at a steady pace that made your stomach tighten and toes curl, but slowly bringing you closer to orgasm. You bucked your hips when he curled his fingers inside of you, blood rushing in your ears so loud that you could hardly hear the obscene sounds coming from your pussy. A lump formed in your throat, one that made you nearly howl in frustration.

“Who got you this worked up, sweetheart?” he asked, nipping the shell of your ear.

A whimper. “You.”

“What was that?”

“You.” Through a haze of lust-soaked desperation, you took his face in your hands. “Don’t make me beg, Sparky. It’s always been you.”

He pulled his hand from between your legs, and you nearly whined until he slid his length inside your pussy, your walls clenching around his cock. You braced yourself on his shoulder blades, your nails doing a number on him as you dug them into his taut skin while he thrust into you. Carefully at first, almost frustratingly so, until you cried, “More.”

He was bigger than you were used to, even before the war, but the slight discomfort was drowned out by the way his steady, deep thrusts filled you. He ducked his head down, taking one of your breasts in his mouth, his hand groping the other. Sucking on your breast, his teeth grazed your nipple, the hint of pain complimenting the pleasure. Your climax was so close you could see it if you closed your eyes, raw and vulnerable.

“Ron, I’m so close,” you moaned. “Don’t stop.”

He lifted his head, nodding. “Where should I–”

“Inside–fuck–I want you to cum inside me.”

And he did, with an erratic thrust that pushed him deeper inside you still. You kissed him as your pussy milked his cock, lifting your hips to grind against him for the slightest bit of friction to your clit. You threw your head back as you came, an obscene moan escaping your lips as pleasure spread across your body, white-hot like a star in supernova.

His name fell from your lips, laced with curses, over and over like a vulgar prayer. He pressed sloppy, open-mouthed kisses along your decollete, his lips brushing the pearls that stuck to your sweat-sheened skin until he shuddered, bottoming out in you.

He pulled out slowly, his toned chest heaving before he collapsed next to you. Reaching over to the nightstand, he grabbed a pack of cigarettes, silently offering you one. You declined, and he placed one between his lips, using a nearby match to light it before taking you in his arms. You settled comfortably against his chest, closing your eyes for a few moments.

“So, what about that report?” you asked slyly when you’d finally caught your breath.

His quiet laughter rumbled in his chest, and he took a drag from his cigarette, his gaze betraying his adoration as he looked at you. “I might need your help again tomorrow night."

Knowing it was too risky for you to spend the night, he reluctantly let you leave around three in the morning, a slight pout on his face as you took off the pearl necklace and tucked it into your pocket. You left him with a passionate parting kiss, one that he used to nearly convince you to stay just a little bit longer until you quietly promised you’d report to him first thing.

The streets were mostly deserted except for the men on patrol. You kept your head down, booking it back to where you were quartered, hoping your arrival wouldn’t wake anyone up, or at least raise any questions.

Just your luck, you ran right into Tab, a shit-eating grin on his face at your disheveled appearance. “I knew it."

#ronald speirs x reader #ron speirs x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #hbo war #hbo war fanfic

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blurredcolour · 1 year ago

Text

Take These Broken Wings

Dick Winters x Enlisted!Unnamed Female OC/Reader

Trapped behind his desk, Dick finds out the unthinkable has happened to the woman he cares about. Now he has to deal with the consequences; first as her commanding officer and then as the man who loves her.

Warnings: MAJOR Canon Divergence, Angst, Implied Sexual Assault, Descriptions of OC/Reader Injuries, Discussion of Retaliatory Violence, Gentleman's Agreement Not To Prosecute, Period Specific Ideas about Honor and Protection of Women, PTSD, Weapons, Language, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: Self-indulgent canon divergence with little explanation ahead, read at your own risk. Because of the sensitive nature of this fic, I chose to write it in the third person but only a nickname is used so it can be read as a reader fic. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within, particularly the Red Devils in this case!

Special Note: Dearest tag list, I have chosen not to tag any of you because this is so wildly different than my usual fics, I just wasn't sure who would want to read it.

Word Count: 4148

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October 17, 1944 – Schoonderlogt, Holland

It had never been his intention to fall in love with her. With any of the female paratroopers in the 506th, for that matter. But like the slow erosion of a river carving a new path through bare rock, she had ever so gradually hollowed out a place for herself in his heart until all at once he realized he could not live without her. Of course, if one were to ask her, she fell in love with Dick Winters the first day they met in Toccoa, Georgia, sun scorching their skin, blazing his hair copper – or so she liked to remind him often.

His realization had not come until he’d found her halfway up a tree in Normandy, tangled in the lines of her parachute, desperately trying to slice herself free before she was discovered by enemy troops. The sheer panic he had felt as his mind flooded with all the possible ways he could have lost her that night had only served to drive home how deeply he cared for Peaches. Dick didn’t often use the nickname that Nix had bestowed on her; a nickname born of some sordid adventure involving cans of peaches that he’d decided he’d rather not know about. But he did love the way it made her nose crinkle when he slipped it into their stolen moments together. Moments that were becoming harder and harder to find now that he had been placed in charge of 2nd Battalion.

Several pages being laid on his desk by Zielinski tore Dick out of his inner musings and he lifted his pen to add his signature to the line where his Orderly pointed expectantly. Sink had assured him the paperwork would be ‘nothing to sweat’ but Dick was certainly sweating it now. The call of Nixon’s voice as he came up the stairs was a welcome reprieve from the rapidly multiplying stacks of paper on his desk, something that his friend seemed only too happy to point out.

Dick could only feel envy, mixed with trepidation and a certain amount of helplessness, as Heyliger informed him Operation Pegasus was preparing to launch in a matter of hours and he remained trapped in his combination office and bedroom in the attic. As the pair of them made their way down the stairs and out of the requisitioned farmhouse, Dick looked up from his typewriter once more as he heard Nixon’s bright greeting.

“Hey there Peaches, you’ve got something on your face.”

“Very funny Captain. Lieutenant.” He heard her voice reply and did his best not to grin.

“Zielenski, could you go grab a new box of pencils from the storeroom? It’s going to be a long night.” Dick swallowed, doing his best to come up with an excuse for two minutes alone with her, five if he was lucky.

“Yes, sir.” There was a note of confusion in the man’s voice but thankfully he complied, hustling down the stairs.

There was a moment of silence before he heard the door shut followed by the sound of her jump boots scuffing up the worn wooden steps, grinning as she was startled to find him waiting for her at the top of the stairs.

“And here I was thinking I’d surprise you…Who was that?” She glanced back towards the door, and he sighed, shaking his head.

“Don’t worry about it, how’re you feeling about this thing?” He asked softly, taking her hands in his.

“Should be fine, Moose picked mostly people who can swim, the Canadians are nice. That Colonel Dobie sure is handsome.” She teased lightly, lacing her fingers with his.

Despite her teasing tone, Dick still felt a little annoyed at the comment, particularly given the fact that the man was free to swim the river in reconnaissance and join the operation that night while he was a glorified paper pusher.

“Too bad for him I like ‘em tall as a stalk of corn and copper as a penny.” She leaned in to press her lips to his and Dick felt his eyes fall shut, tension that he’d been carrying for hours slowly ebbing from his body.

She pulled back with a soft smile before frowning apologetically. “Sorry my love I got grease paint on you.” She licked her thumb and swiped at his cheek like he was a grubby toddler, and he could not help the broad grin that stretched his features even as he felt his cheeks heat up at the term of endearment she’d only recently begun to use.

“I’ll get it in a moment, Peaches.” He muttered, glancing around to ensure they were still alone before sliding an arm around her waist to pull her close, kissing her soundly. “Be safe out there…don’t do anything I wouldn’t do…”

“Oh, like run across a field toward two companies of SS by myself?” She narrowed her eyes at him, and he pressed his lips together, still able to hear every word of her displeasure at being left behind for the agonizing seconds it took for the red smoke signal to appear.

“Especially that.” He muttered, clearing his throat and taking a step back as he heard the door open at the bottom of the stairs.

She quickly grabbed her handkerchief and soaked it with water from her canteen, passing it to him so he could scrub at his face, hopefully removing all evidence of their interlude.

“Pencils sir.” Zielenski held out the box proudly and she raised an eyebrow, introducing herself warmly to the Orderly.

“That’ll be all, Sergeant, good luck out there.”

“Thank you sir, appreciate your time.” She replied smoothly, looking completely unaffected while Dick was very aware of the residual heat in his face.

Dick took his time opening the box, watching her back as she slowly descended out of sight until the door closed shut behind her. Sinking into his chair he submitted himself to another few hours of pointing and signing with his Orderly before sending the boy to bed, peering out his window hopefully when a great ruckus arose from one of the barns out back.

Glancing at his watch to confirm it was nearly 0200, he smiled a little to himself as everything seemed to have gone off alright. Rain drops began to sporadically strike the windowpane before the clouds opened into a steady, driving rain. Dick dropped the curtain with a sigh, the room filled with the rhythmic sound of water striking the roof and rolling off the eaves. It was dangerously tempting to lay his head down on his desk and give in to the heaviness in his eyelids, to allow himself to be lulled to sleep. Shaking himself physically, he turned back to yet another report and began striking the keys of his typewriter with a vengeance, hoping to keep himself awake with the racket.

Dick was just spooling a fresh page into place when Nixon was suddenly hurrying up the stairs, followed by Colonel Dobie himself. Both men were wet as drowned rats, but it was the seriousness of their faces that pulled Dick to his feet immediately, securing the pencil from between his teeth into his fist.

“Dick, you remember Colonel Dobie.”

“Yeah…yeah I do…” He replied slowly, trying to ignore the feeling of a sword dangling over their heads as he waited for them to tell him what was going on.

“Terribly sorry to barge in at such a late hour but I wanted to inform you of this incident personally. Well, incidents more precisely. It appears that one of our men, a Holman from Yorkshire, has been severely beaten by a couple of your men from Easy in retaliation for his attack on one of your female soldiers.”

Dick nodded once as he processed the news, heartrate picking up immediately. There were a total of twenty-seven women in 2nd Battalion, but given that it had been only Easy involved in Pegasus, that narrowed it down to a possible nine, of which just a handful had been chosen for the operation. Dick merely had to glance at Nixon to confirm his worst fear. Peaches.

He didn’t realize how tight his grip on the pencil in his hand had grown until the wooden object snapped in two.

“I am willing to consider the matter settled and in need of no further action. The man in question will be returned to England and assigned to some menial duty once he recovers from his injuries.” Dobie continued.

“That will take some time?” Dick asked calmly, despite the searing rage he felt rushing through him.

“Your men were thorough, Captain.” The Colonel replied, grimly.

Dick stood there a moment, eyeing an ink stain that had seeped into the wooden desk top while he was refilling his pen, considering. A beating and unpleasant assignment as punishment for heaven knows what the man had inflicted on her. But to demand more formal proceedings would immediately require testimonies and punishments for the men who had taken it upon themselves to defend her honor. He closed his eyes a moment, vision immediately flooded with her smiling face on one of the blissful outings they had enjoyed during their furlough in England. Forcefully setting the image aside, despite the way it wrenched at his heart to do so, he nodded again. If only to save her further pain.

“Agreed.” Dick offered his hand, Colonel Dobie sealing their agreement with a firm handshake.

Dobie turned to shake Nixon’s hand as well before seeing himself out, Dick waiting until he heard the door close before he spoke again. Two questions on the tip of his tongue, two men inside him, warring for dominance. To his dismay, he had to allow the Battalion’s commanding officer to speak first.

“Who are our vigilantes?”

“Martin and Randleman.” Nixon replied, sitting on one of the folding chairs at the small table in the corner with a heavy sigh. “Moose has them downstairs if you want to talk to them.”

“Yeah. Show them up.”

Nixon leveraged himself out of the chair and was halfway across the attic before he suddenly turned back. “She put that can of peaches in Parkes’ footlocker.”

Dick eyed his friend in confusion, the information seeming utterly irrelevant to their current situation until he suddenly remembered one of Sobel’s impromptu barracks inspections back in Toccoa.

“That dumb bastard wouldn’t leave the women in her squad alone, so she planted it there to get him in trouble – never expected him to get thrown out entirely.” Nixon sighed heavily.

“Where is she?” Dick asked quickly, the words almost melding together in his haste to get them out of his mouth.

“Johnny thinks she’s holed up in the supply barn, I’ll find out.” Nixon replied with a frown and Dick nodded silently, muscles of his jaw clenching almost painfully as he clung to the last vestiges of his focus.

He tossed the broken halves of the pencil onto the desk, frowning at the mess of lead on his palm and pulled the handkerchief from his pocket, frown deepening at the smudges of grease paint there from her face. He clenched the fabric between his fingers as Moose entered the office followed by a hard-faced Martin and a typically laidback Randleman.

“What happened?” He asked plainly, eyeing them expectantly.

Moose stood off to the side, watching Martin and Randleman exchange a look.

“Don’t all talk at once…” Dick prodded calmly, and Martin turned back to him.

“Bull and I were on our way out of the celebration, wanted to beat the rain and get back to our quarters – didn’t work out. Ran into Peaches as we got around the corner of the building. She looked like hell, roughed up, wouldn’t tell me what happened.”

“She just ran, not like her at all, sir.” Randleman chimed in.

“And then that bastard from the Devils, or whatever they call themselves, came around the corner looking all pleased with himself. Adjusting his pants.”

“Knuckles busted up.” Came Randleman’s addition once more.

“Anyway,” Martin continued after a sharp nod of agreement, “it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together.”

Dick exhaled a slow, measured breath. “I can appreciate why you both did what you did. Next time, and we can only hope we never have to have this conversation again, bring him to Moose, to me. We have systems in place, alright?”

“Sir.”

“Yes, sir.”

“All that said…well done.” Dick said with quiet emphasis, letting his pride and gratitude burn brightly in his gaze. “And you’re both on latrine duty for the next two weeks.” He tacked on because he really had no choice but to punish them.

A pair of smirking salutes was the only response before Moose ushered them out. Dick waited until the count of twenty before sliding the suspenders of his OD pants onto his shoulders, shrugging into his jacket and clapping on his helmet. Grabbing his M1 and flashlight, he quickly made his way down the stairs and out into the persistent deluge toward the supply barn, nearly slamming into Nixon on the way.

“Follow me.” His friend nodded and continued to lead the way, nodding to Liebgott who was standing guard at the door, soaked to the skin.

“Joe.” Dick greeted him, noting the way he had his collar turned up obscuring half his face. The way his hands were shoved deep into his pockets.

It easily could have been in an attempt to protect himself against the elements, but Dick also knew Liebgott was the sort of man to never let anything go unanswered and if he was standing out here in the rain, he was surely more involved than anyone was letting on.

“Peaches is in there, sir. Doc Roe tried to help her, she wouldn’t let him touch her. Thought I’d make sure no one bothered her until she was ready.”

“Good thinking.” Dick swallowed.

He ought to press further, ferret out the truth of Liebgott’s involvement, but standing just outside where she was hiding, the other half of him was very much in charge now – wanting nothing more than to throw the door open and charge in. But by the sounds of it, that approach would be quite unwelcome.

“Why don’t you go warm up for a bit, we’ll take a turn.” Nixon said to Liebgott who looked between the pair of them before nodding in return.

“Thanks, sir.” He agreed, glancing back toward the barn once before jogging off into the night.

Dick waited until they were well and truly alone before slowly opening the door, stepping into the dim space, sliding his helmet from his head. The sound of footsteps retreating into the far corner behind crates of supplies drew his attention and he took a slow breath, calling her name softly.

“It’s me. Dick. I’m here to check on you.”

There was a soft, smothered sound and he clenched his fists, keeping his progress gradual and measured, trying not to make any sudden movements or noises to startle her. As he reached the rear of the barn, he rounded a stack of crates and his heart clenched painfully as his eyes fell on her wedged between a few bundles of blankets and sacks of something it was too dark to read the labels of. Her knees were hugged tightly to her chest, M1 tucked into the crook of her elbow as she eyed him warily in the dark.

Her normally tidy hair was in disarray, and the side of her face that he could see sported a gash across her eyebrow. He took another step closer, the air shuddering from his lungs as she flinched away, pressing tightly into the wall behind her, revealing her split lower lip, the swelling along her left cheekbone, the barely-dried tear tracks on her face.

Dick had never seen her shy away from anything since the day they’d met – not the obstacle course, the rifle range, Currahee, or jumping out of a C-47. For his proximity to garner such a reaction from her felt very much as though she had torn his heart from his breast and stomped it beneath her heel.

Sinking slowly into a crouch, he swallowed before speaking just above a whisper. “Peaches…”

The look of disgust, whether it was at the nickname or at herself – perhaps both, mixed with horror that crossed her face had Dick seriously considering if he had enough time to find Holman before his trip back to England and land a few blows himself. He gently corrected it with her name, teeth grinding together audibly in his skull as she turned her head to the side revealing small knicks at her throat. He’d held her at knife point.

“They’ve already found him. Some of the boys took justice into their own hands, but his superiors know now too.” He tried to reassure her, let her know he was no longer out there, no longer a threat to her.

Dick’s eyes dropped to follow the movement of her fingers as she picked at the torn ends of her nails, several cuts visible on her hands as well. Knowing her she’d probably put up a hell of a fight.

“P–” He stopped himself before he accidentally used the offensive nickname again. “…please you’re hurt. Can I clean you up?” He asked, voice trembling with the emotions he was desperately trying to keep at bay for her sake as he shifted forward onto his knees.

She shook her head violently in response, hugging her limbs tighter to her body, which hadn’t even seemed a possibility until it was done. Dick swallowed painfully, carefully laying his rifle and helmet down on the wooden floor beside him, sitting back on his heels.

“I love you.” He blinked rapidly at the gathering dampness in his eyelashes. “No matter what’s happened, I will always love you. I’m not going anywhere.”

She eyed him skeptically, no words passing between them for a long while. The sound of the persistent rain outside pounding against the roof filled the barn, drowning out the sound of their breathing, until she opened her mouth to speak at last.

“I froze.” She whispered, tone thick with self-loathing as she released her grip on her M1, laying it down beside his before sealing her palm over her mouth.

She began to shake with sobs so ferocious that no sound passed her throat, rendering the smothering effect of her hand unnecessary. Dick felt his heart shatter as he automatically reached for her, wanting nothing more than to pull her close and soothe some of her pain. Her repeated aversion to his touch, however, came flooding back and he froze, arms outstretched and aching to hold her, but wanting to respect her wishes.

The feeling of her body colliding with his chest as she launched herself into his arms punched the air from his lungs for several reasons, nearly sending him toppling over backwards with the force of it. Dick’s arms quickly gathered her onto his lap, one hand rubbing along her spine as her strangled sobs soaked his jacket, her hands clutching at him in return.

“You survived, my love.” He whispered against her hair, deciding he really ought to call her that in kind. It was only fitting for it was exactly how he felt. “You did what you had to do to survive in that moment. Please forgive yourself.”

He felt her shift against his sternum, the shudders wracking her body gradually slowing as she took deeper and deeper breaths, sniffling and wiping at her face carefully.

“Who did you have to yell at?” She murmured wetly, peering up at him cautiously.

“Martin and Randleman. Fairly certain Liebgott is somehow involved as well.” Dick replied softly, fighting back the urge to stroke her face. One step at a time – being allowed to hold her would more than suffice for now.

She sniffed. “Johnny must have figured it out first. I couldn’t even come up with a plausible lie I just…ran away from him outside the party…” Her eyes lowered in shame before she sat up slowly, Dick biting back a frown at the barely concealed wince that crossed her features.

“Nix is outside keeping watch. Can I take you back to CP? Get you cleaned up?” He swallowed, really wanting her to allow Roe to look her over but doubting that would be an option.

She looked to him, eyes suddenly wide with the terror of realization. “Oh god Dick, what if I catch something or…wind up pregnant…oh fuck…” Her face began to crumple, and Dick swallowed, quickly cupping her uninjured cheek hoping to startle her out of that train of thought.

As she jumped and looked to him sharply, he apologized gently. “My love, we don’t know if any of those things will happen. Hopefully they won’t, but no matter what comes next, we’re going to face it together.”

“But Dick I’m–”

“Don’t go and say something melodramatic, now. You’re the woman I love and something horrible has been done to you. It doesn’t change who you are to me.” He replied firmly, swallowing as she stared at him startled for a moment, before nodding slowly. “Now I’m taking you to CP and we’re getting you cleaned up, ok?”

“Should I salute you, Captain?” She raised an eyebrow before wincing and restoring her face to a neutral expression.

He felt his cheeks redden, a sure sign that things would some day return back to normal. That the woman he loved was still with him, she just needed a lot of care right now and he was more than happy to provide it. “That won’t be necessary, Sergeant.” He replied and tried not to smirk as she scoffed slightly in surprise before shifting to her feet slowly.

Dick passed her rifle to her before grabbing his own, rising to his feet and sliding his helmet on his head. He offered his hand to her, swallowing back his sigh of relief as she laced her battered fingers through his and followed him out through the maze of supplies to where Nixon was still waiting in the rain.

“Christ, Peaches…” He breathed when she came into view and Dick shot him a sharp look, trying, too late, to stop him using the nickname.

“Son-of-a-bitch ruined the nickname, Nix. I trust you to come up with a new one.” She sighed, sounding positively exhausted, and Nixon nodded quickly in reply.

“Noted. You sure you’re alright?” He asked softly and she shook her head.

“No. But someday, maybe.” She replied honestly and Nixon nodded empathetically as Dick squeezed her hand gently.

“Let’s get out of this rain.” He led the three of them back into the farmhouse, taking her straight to the washroom where he filled the basin with water. “Help or no?”

She paused a moment, staring at her reflection in the cracked mirror left behind by the home’s original owners and Dick waited patiently until she turned back to him. “I can do it.” She replied softly and he nodded, closing the door to wait in the hall.

Nixon shuffled by carrying his pillow and Dick raised an eyebrow. “Give her my bed, I’ll take your crappy little cot.” He muttered, making his way to the attic before he even had the chance to reply.

The ghost of a smile crossed his lips as he leaned his head back against the wall, thoroughly spent by the events of the day, knowing he’d have to be up in just a few hours to face the rest of the paperwork on his desk.

“Dick?” Her soft voice startled him, making him realize he’d actually fallen asleep standing up, for just a moment.

Her lips twitched slightly with a hint of amusement, and he smiled slightly in return, nodding as she looked more herself despite the still-fresh injuries.

“This way.” He offered his hand and led her towards Nixon’s room, gesturing at the bed. “Gift from Lew.”

Her face softened, eyes glistening suddenly, reminding Dick just how fragile she still was. “Where is he sleeping?”

“Attic.”

“Then you need a bed too…” She replied as she crawled onto the mattress, sighing at the softness of the bedding.

“Oh, the floor is fine I…”

“Please hold me.” Her voice was small, her request simple and one that he did not need to hear twice to honor.

He unlaced his boots and removed his outer layers before crawling in with her, letting her curl up against him before sliding his arm around her carefully. “Comfortable?” He asked in a hushed voice.

“Very.” She replied sleepily and he allowed himself to drift, listening to the rise and fall of her breath, letting sleep nibble at the edges of his consciousness.

“Dick?” She whispered and he snuffled awake quickly.

“Yeah?”

“Does it smell like pee in here?”

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Band of Brothers Masterlist

#dick winters x reader #dick winters x oc #dick winters imagines #dick winters imagine #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fic #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers #tw sa implied #tw assault #tw sa

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joenotexotic99 · 11 months ago

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Idk if you're still making this, but I want to let you know that we're waiting for BoB Lovetropes p2. My suggestions: Toye, Eugene, Malarkey, Guarnere, Luz, Sobel. Hope you're doing okay <3

A/n: I've been dealing with some stuff lately and now finally have a little time to catch up on old stuff. I also want to apologize anon I couldn't bring myself to soble. Sorry couldn't do it.

-Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of language, got wayyy to carried away with malarkey’s, oops. Might have to turn that into its own thing, if it's not already. Luz is slightly spicy, nothing crazy but you cant miss it.-

Masterlist

Joe Toye

-grumpy vs sunshine trope. Omggggg, the idea of this has me kicking my feet and giggling. Joe Toye is rough around the edges, tough skin. You on the other hand have always been the positive one, keeping the people around you spirits high. Being an optimist of sorts. Maybe not cheerful but you could definitely make someone's day. Yet behind his grumpy facade, he can't help but notice your unwavering optimism. He wasn't opposed to love; he just never expected to be swept off his feet so quickly by one person. Your personality was anything but the same. Never in a million years did he think he was going to fall in love with a bright and shiny person, which was the exact reason why he loved you so much. You two were like night and day. You were the beacon of light in all the darkness. I feel like Toye would also be super protective over you. Kinda the same vibe as liebgott. But that's for another time.

“Is that a smile I see on your face toye?” “I'm one lucky bastard you realize that?”

Eugene roe

-office romance/forced proximity. I didn't exactly know what to call this one. Both you and roe are easy company medics. Gene from the start, harbord a crush on you. And mean big time crush. Thinking about you he got butterflies in his stomach. You both spent significant time together. Typically the only times you were separated is when you were attending to fellow paratroopers. Bastogne was a turning point. You were in a jeep headed to the church, your hand and a cloth being the soul thing keeping a man alive. You almost made it before the church burst into flames. When Gene heard what happened he got the first ride possible to bastogne. When he saw you, hand now on a clearly dead man, he took you into his arms. He brought you back to the Adrennes forest. As usual you spent the night in genes fox hole the only difference was you both saw what was right in front of you for the first time and kissed. It wasn't until Austria where he gave you a promise ring where he promised to spend and devote the rest of his life with you.

“you make me the happiest man you know that y/n?”

“Tell me that again at our wedding”

Donald Malarkey

-friends to lovers? Maybe a sprinkle of enemies to lovers?? I don't know but here me out. So you join the paratroopers as a female, the reason you got in was from connections in the army. Seeing how even if you are the most talented female there is, it's still the 40s here. I wouldn't think that the Toccoa men would flat out bully you, but would more just not believe in you. Probably leave you out of a lot of things. Kind of just pretend you weren't there. But not malarkey. He saw something in you that the rest didn't. Honestly he was shocked to see how they treated you. You were the best paratrooper there was in this company. You stood your ground. You met and exceeded in all categories. Passed each test with flying colors. You also were able to do it with the most incredible smile. As much as you disliked it, he stood up for you. Complimented and congratulated you when you did well. You really liked him. He was cute, kind, and not a douche wad. But sadly, most guys here if they weren't mean, they were trying to get Into your pants. As much as you wouldn't mind that with malarkey, you weren't here for that. One day in Aldbourne England you had enough. You weren't going to get swooned into bed and he had to know it. When you had a spare moment you grabbed him and pulled him aside and told him to stop. He was bewildered that this is how you perceived him. He explained to you that was not his intention. You could hear the sincerity of his voice. He meant it. This was the start of your friendship. You both were like a thing but not? Kinda a situationship. But it wasn't official until Haguenau. The effects of war painted across your faces. In one of the houses you laid in one of the beds, trying for the hundredth time to get some rest to no avail. He came and found you. There was little and a lot to say. Instead he kissed you. The past two years of friendship melted instantly into a lifetime of love.

“god i've wanted you to do that for a long time”

“What happened to ‘I'm not here for a relationship’?”

“shut the fuck up and kiss me again would ya”

William Guarnere

-Enemies to lovers. Come on, this is so perfect. Guarnere is a natural bully. He bullies everybody all the time, but you? He loves bullying you. He always has an insult special for you up his sleeve. However, that's a lie. He hates it to his core. You are the sweetest person ever. All he wants to do is not bully you. He's somewhere in the middle of liebgott and Speers. He doesn't want to be seen as weak. He has this demnor he feels the need to uphold and that everybody around him expects. Not some ooey gooey man. Even though if he could he'd probably worship you. You were perfect in his eyes. He hates himself more and more but the more he digs himself into this hole the harder it is for him to get out. He finally cracks when someone else makes a particular mean stab at you one day at a bar in holland. He can hate himself all he fucking wants for bullying you. But somebody else is doing it? Hurting you? Not going to happen. He breaks his nose, jaw, maybe a rib or two, black eye and busted lip, all before he could get ripped off this guy. You get wind of this later. Within minutes you're confronting him. Before he shuts you up with a kiss.

“I thought you hated me”

“Hate you? No, For fuckes sake sweetheart, I'm in love with you”

George Luz

-meet cute. You originally met just before you signed up to be paratroopers. And I mean just before. You were getting blood work done to test how fit you were to fight. As you waited in the lobby to fill out paperwork, you went to reach for your pen. That's when you realized it wasn't there. It just so happens that a very cute guy next to you had an extra with him. You quickly filled the paper and exchanged names and conversations. On the way home you couldn't get him out of your head. So couldn't he. Later when you were assigned to easy company you found the one and only George luz. The same extremely handsome guy at the clinic. He immediately recognized you. How could he not? Your face and laugh had been at the front of his thoughts a lot lately. You tried to keep both of your composure during Toccoa seeing how you didn't want to get into any trouble. But that all fell apart after one weekend with a pass and some alcohol. Kisses were shared, clothes were shed and hands roamed. After that night you made it official. Luz also started writing his vows.

“you know I've never felt this way before”

“What the sex or me? Because If it wasn't the sex let me know so we can go again”

“both luz, but I can't turn that offer down now can I”

#band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers headcanon #band of brothers x reader #joe toye x reader #eugene roe x reader #Donald Malarkey x reader #george luz x reader

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brassknucklespeirs · 1 year ago

Text

Sᴄᴀʀʏ Dᴏɢ Pʀɪᴠɪʟᴇɢᴇ [Jᴏᴇ Tᴏʏᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ]

Genre: Speed run enemies to lovers??? But also funny and cute???

Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of sexism, descriptions of warfare, mention of blood and wounds, the general idea is if you couldn't handle band of brothers, don't freaking read this okay?

Disclaimer: No disrespect to the real men of WW2, this is based off the actors portrayal from HBO

HI GUYS! I'M SO EXCITED THIS IS MY FIRST FIC BACK AND I'M SO HAPPY WITH IT SO PLEASE ENJOY! I'VE MISSED YOU GUYS LIKE CRAZY

To say Y/N was not warmly welcomed as a female replacement in Easy Company was an understatement. She was at the bottom of the food chain at this point; the Toccoa men being at the top, with her fellow replacements being beneath them, and then her at the very bottom thanks to her lack of an extra limb between her legs. In all honesty, she wasn't as bothered as she thought she would be, but perhaps that was because after making it through basic training she was more than use to being leered at; whether it was in distain, lust, or indifference was dependant on the man.

It wasn't all bad she guessed, but even in those men who did show her kindness, she still saw the hint of apprehension in their eyes as the smile they held didn't quite cover the look from their gaze. She was the only female in Easy company, while all of the other women that she had trained with were sent to Dog and Fox company. She held a sliver of envy because of this, for she didn't truly understand why none of the others had joined her in Easy, and yet here she was, the only woman in a company of men who saw her as a silly little girl playing dress up. Any time the monachopsis had crept in she pushed it away, reminding herself of why she was here, why she was persisting through the cold, both that which she was dealt from the men and that which the snowy terrain of Bastogne had brought her freely.

She kept to herself mostly, though it drove her slightly mad as she wished to share the unfamiliar sense of comradeship that she saw flowing between the men around her. Y/N would often find herself staring longingly as she watched them unconsciously huddle closer to each other to keep warm, while her stomach clenched in disappointment as they shared quiet laughter in their foxholes, exchanging jokes and light-hearted taunts to bring their spirits up as much as they could.

Yet here she was, alone in every meaning of the word except physically, holed up in a foxhole with someone who did not care for her existence as he looked down on her as a nuisance. Y/N's gaze would often flicker to the man beside her, taking note of how he pressed himself as close to his side of the dirty dugout in the ground, like she was a plague to be avoided. She could never stop her teeth from sinking into the raw flesh of her chewed bottom lip to keep herself from speaking to him, knowing the last time she had tried, he had ripped into her. The man had thrown insults and harsh words about how she was an army experiment gone wrong, and how the only reason she was allowed to be here is because they were that desperate for running targets to distract the Nazis from shooting at the 'real' soldiers. Every word had hit its mark but she refused to show it, keeping up her façade of indifference and annoyance until he had turned his back on her, at which point of time she had shifted her head in the opposite direction to let the tears that threatened to spill fall down her cheeks.

It was easy to see how Joe Toye was the man everyone painted him out to be, yet where others saw him as strong-willed she saw him as stubborn, and in the place of being a good leader, she had seen a pushy prick who expected those around him to bend and shape to his will. His sense of arrogance truly did stun her when she first arrived to the front, and though she never really got over it, she learnt how to play the ignorant card for the sake of her sanity; or perhaps for the sake of her position in Easy company, for she wasn't quite sure if she would be kept around if she bad-mouthed one of her sergeants. Yet it was in moments like that, when Joe used the consistent excuse of needing to watch the line to keep his glare off of her that she would watch anything but the line. She hated herself for it sometimes, knowing that her lack of normality had caused her to seek out any familiar comfort she could around her. The familiar comfort in question being the picture of a handsome face. He was all sharp angles from side on, with his sculpted jawline and large, curved nose, and she found herself flitting her gaze over his features in moments of quiet. A little too easy on the eyes for someone lacking any means of a soft spoken personality, she had thought to herself once as she forced herself to look away from him.

Y/N's jaw ached from how tightly she was grinding her teeth, her arms wrapped tightly around her torso as she tried to savour in her own warmth. Her gaze held envy as she eyed Malarkey, Muck, Penkala and Luz huddled together, giggling to one another while they talked in hushed voiced. She wished to know what it felt to relish in the cosiness they seemed to hold between one another, wanted to know what it was to laugh over such meaningless jokes to break through the bitter sensation that wrapped its way around her lonely heart. She huffed out a breath of frustration as she downed the rest of the lukewarm coffee that Lipton had previously handed her, the cup having already been half drunk when the first sergeant had taken pity on the clearly shivering woman and offered her the rest. Y/N sent Lip a small but grateful smile when she handed him back the mug as he shuffled past her, a stiff nod of his head and his own small smile being the acknowledgement she received before he walked off.

Y/N rolled her rigid shoulders as she walked back towards her and Joe's foxhole, her rifle tucked tightly between her arms and chest while her hands were squished under her armpits to savour the little warmth her body gave off. Her entire body froze for a moment as a whistling sound rung through her ears, carried through the breeze from the town of Foy below them. Y/N's head snapped behind her to look towards Lip over her shoulder, the first sergeant stared back at her with wide eyes, the both of them letting the realisation fall over them. Lipton's voice of authority resonated over the company members close by as he yelled to take cover over and over again, a mix of alarm and agitation leaking off every sharp syllable. Y/N's feet seemed to move without any further thought when the first shell hit the ground with an almighty bang, digging its nose into the dirt before scattering it across the frozen terrain. She threw herself into the closest cover she could, a shallow foxhole that looked as if it had been given up on halfway through being dug, her arms immediately covering her head while she pressed her cheek against the snow. From the position she was in, she was able to see the chaos that ensued around her as trees exploded and men screamed over the noise at one another. Her teeth sunk into the skin on the inside of her cheek, and the metallic taste of blood told her she had clenched too harshly as the anxiety built up in her chest.

The lone figure of a man in the distance caught her attention as they seemed to be the only person who had stupidly continued to scramble for cover while those around him had found theirs. Her gaze shifted to the trail of shells hitting the forest floor, and her uneasy grew, noting that the path they travelled was heading straight for the running soldier. She wasn't quite sure what led her to the point of brainlessness but in a split second decision, she was up and out of the half dug foxhole, her feet pushing her full force across the snowy ground towards him, her quads aching with every step. The cold wind blasted across her face while several bursts of heat would hit her cheek as the shells grew closer to her. Her heart felt ready to leap out of her chest as she watched the trail of destruction close in to her position with every step she took closer towards the figure. With seemingly seconds to spare, her body collided harshly with his, throwing his body to the side as they narrowly avoid a shell that blew the trees behind them to splinters. Y/N wasted no time as her hands gripped at the man's uniform and pulled him from the ground though a burning sensation along the side of her hip told her she had been hit. She didn't take the time to analyse her wound, throwing the man into the closest foxhole before diving after him, though another shell from behind them caused her to tumble in after him as it threw her off her feet. She managed to catch herself before she completely crushed the man beneath her, her hands and knees hitting the ground either side of him, holding her above his body. As the blasts continued around them, she took no time to ponder the precarious position she had landed in, the warm heat of the man she had saved pressed against her torso as she sat straddled over his lying body. She felt his chin pressed against the top of her head as she curled tightly into him, her face hidden in the crook of his neck without thought.

As the shelling eased and the forest around them grew silent once more, Y/N raised her head towards the sky as to angle her ears in such a way to hear better, but the ringing that echoed from the remnants of the blast was like an alarm bell. Her suspicions were confirmed when she heard Lipton's voice yell to stay down, and her stomach clenched in anticipation. She tilted her head back down towards the man as she felt him wriggle beneath her and a blush rose to her cheeks as she turned to apologise and move only to meet the dark eyes of Joe Toye. Her face hardened as she stared down at him, his eyes looking up to meet her gaze with surprise evident in his pupils. Y/N breathed harshly through her nose, pulling one leg over his body so she no longer perched in his lap before she tugged them to her chest, shuffling to the other side of the foxhole with a stiff expression. Joe said nothing but his eyes continued to watch her for a few more moments, his gaze causing the hairs on her arms to rise; or perhaps that was the chill the air held, she wasn't certain. Y/N ran her tongue over her top teeth as the silence enveloped them, but her irritation rose the longer it went on, her fingers gripping tighter at her rifle causing her knuckles to turn white.

"You're welcome, by the way." She spoke suddenly, her tone cold but the way she kept her eyes off of him expressed the idea that she didn't care; she certainly did care, and she expected grateful appreciation for saving his sorry ass. She turned her attention to what was going on above the foxhole they sat in as she pushed herself to a crouch to poke her head cautiously over the edge of the dugout, her eyes sweeping over the area as she analysed it carefully. Joe watched her in silence for another moment, his eyes trailing over the side of her face as she remained oblivious. He had previously noted that her face held a gentle beauty, but in this moment with messy hair peaking out from under her helmet, brows furrowed and her jaw visibly clenching, she held more of a wild divinity, like a budding rose that’s stem held many thorns. He drew in a breath as he forced himself to turn away as he thought to himself, A little too beautiful for someone who holds such an icy façade.

"Yeah. Thanks." Joe finally muttered shortly as he gazed down at his hands. Y/N didn't turn to look at him, but rolled her eyes at his stiff reply, not overly convinced he meant it. She opened her mouth to reply, swivelling on her toes to looked down at him only for the burning in her hip to arise again. The woman let out a strangled gasp, her hand immediately flying to the sliced flesh on her hip as the adrenaline running through her body began to dissipate. Joe's eyes widened, watching as she moved quickly to sit on her uninjured hip, all but collapsing beside him. "Shit Y/L/N. This just happen?" The sergeant called while moving closer to her, and if she wasn't focussed on her pain, Y/N would have seen fit to roll her eyes once more. She groaned, biting at the sensitive flesh of her lip as she pulled some of the torn fabric away from the wound, revealing the blood leaking from her body.

"Yeah. Next time remind me not to save your sorry ass." Y/N replied with as much of an taunting sneer as she could muster, completely disregarding their difference in rank as quite honestly in that moment she couldn't have cared less. Someone needed to dish it back to this man everyone once in a while to ensure his head didn't grow too large, and if that person had to be her, then she'd give it her best go. Even now as she squirmed uncomfortably at the burning gash on her hip, she was fully prepared to release the feminine rage that she had held caged in her chest for the last few months if she really had to.

Neither of them were given a moment to continue this exchange of simmering annoyance as a new bout of whistles filled the air causing Y/N to whine in distress, curling into herself to grasp at any comfort she could. She looked up from under her brows towards the sky as the first explosion went off, but immediately flinched in discomfort, turning her body away and pushing herself as close to the side of the foxhole as she could. When the not-so-solid soil wall seemed to wrap its arms around her tightly in a moment of shared unease, Y/N realised she had, in fact, unconsciously turned away from the wall of the foxhole, not towards it, and found herself pressed firmly against the warm body of Joseph Toye. The man's arms remained steadfast around her waist as the chaos outside the foxhole continued, his own fear slipping through with every 'bang' that was heard. The ground shook violently as a shell hit close by and Y/N let out a strangled scream of terror. Her hands unravelling from themselves to grasp at Joe's jacket, tugging herself closer to him while she tried her best to focus on the warmth that radiated from him, or the way his fingers could be felt rubbing back and forth over her spine. Even if he was a particularly cold man towards her, it had not been the first time she had used him as a distraction, though this was much more than just admiring him from afar. There was a certain intimacy in being held as if she was the only thing that could bring reassurance to the soldier beside her, a type of intimacy she had gladly welcomed at that moment as she too tightened her grip on his shirt, even going as far to hide her face in the fabric covering his shoulder.

A heavy silence hung over the air when the shelling stopped, the only noise being the creaking of nearby trees, half destroyed from the blasts and desperately clinging to hold their form. Y/N stayed leaning against Joe, his warmth offering comfort as her body grew tired as the adrenaline had leaked faster from her than it had the last time. Her wound began to burn hotter than last time, and a pained whine left her lips as she lifted her hand, pulling her face from the man's jacket to watch as crimson blood trickled down the palm it had begun to stain.

"Shit. MEDIC!" Joe screamed out as he glanced down at the woman as she lay groaning against his side, her hands coloured with scarlet liquid while her face was screwed up in a look of discomfort. "Uh, how many fingers am I holding up?" He asks, his voice a mixture of worry and uncertainty, his hand showing three fingers. Y/N seemed to pause her groaning for a moment, her head tilting up to look at him, her face showing disbelief at the words. Her gaze flickered between his face and his fingers, too confused to answer immediately as she took in the dead-serious look of concern on his features.

"I'm not dying you fucking moron. It's a shallow gash not a mortal wound." She replies with a quiet snort from her nose in amusement. Sure, the sliced flesh burned but it was certainly nothing to write home about, and she was more than prepared to never think about it again once she had been seen to by a medic. Until that point, she would ensure she'd made it clear to Joe that she deserved a little bit of appreciation for drawing blood for him, even if it was her own. The man rolled his eyes at her answer, pushing his fingers closer to her face while his brows tugged together in silent frustration.

"Just answer the fucking question Y/L/N." He said firmly. With a huff of irritation, Y/N gave her answer before using the hand that wasn't pressed tightly against the wound on her hip to flick his own hand away from her face.

"Thank the lord above they didn't make you a goddamn medic." She muttered under her breath quietly, though the roll of his eyes told her he had heard the words leave her mouth. The corners of her lips quip up in amusement but she pulled her eyes away from him as a heavy set of footfall could be heard coming towards them. Gene appeared beside her before she could blink, his presence causing her to jump in fright "Jesus Gene, I just told Toye I wasn't dying. Don't you dare make me look a fool by giving me a heart attack." The woman mumbles lightly to the medic as he doesn't waste a second, pulling her hand from the wound and inspecting it closely.

"Sorry Y/L/N." Gene muttered gently, his eyes flickering up to hers for a moment in polite acknowledgement. He looked back down at the gash and noted several splinters still sticking out causing him to screw his face up in concentration, his eyes analysing the best way to get them out. He pulled his tweezers from his pouch and without warning, plucked the first splinter from her hip bringing about a cry made up of surprise and discomfort that rose loudly from her lips. Without thinking, her hand flew out to the side, landing on Joe's thigh, before squeezing tightly to sate her pain.

"AH, come on Gene, a little warning would be nice." She groaned, her fingers digging into the flesh of Joe's leg while she squirmed against his side as if trying to shuffle away from the medic and his tweezers. Joe let out a huff of bemusement as he glanced between her hand on him and her face, though he couldn't help the slight redness that dusted his cheeks.

"So would a homecooked Christmas dinner made by my ma, but we can't always get what we want, can we Y/N?" Joe said almost mockingly. The woman threw a warning glare over her shoulder in response to his words, not appreciative of his snark as she had a pair of tweezers shoved half an inch into a gash she took for him. Y/N watched as Gene finished pulling the splinters from her flesh, and wriggled uncomfortably as he stitched up the wound, yet the bleeding crimson that escaped from her had already painted the snow beneath her.

When the medic had finished up with dressing her wound as well as he could with his limited supplies, he had quickly disappeared off into the snowy terrain surrounding them. The woman kept her gaze on him as he ran off, a small smile of amusement painting her lips when she sees him scurry away so quickly. Movement against her hand reminded her that she was still gripping at Joe's thigh and without a single glance she retracted it as if she had been burnt, and it honestly looked as though she had been from the rose dusted blush on her cheeks. She didn't say a word to Joe, turning her head away from him so he could not see the embarrassment that so clearly showed on her face, yet the man used it to his advantage as he glanced out the corner of his eyes to look at her, his expression that of curiosity and intrigue. With a silent huff of amusement and a subtle shake of his head, Joe realised he had been wrong about Y/N, very wrong indeed.

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Joseph Toye had held a deep distain of the female replacement since the moment she showed up. Every part of her annoyed him; the way she seemingly refused to interact with most of the men as if she was above them, the way she watched them closely with narrowed eyes, the way she held herself like she was special because she was the only woman assigned to Easy company, the way she was so god damn distracting. He had decided quickly that she was not at all what a normal soldier was supposed to be, and let his thoughts and assumptions cloud his judgement. But after she had saved his ass from being blown sky high, he felt a strange feeling nag at his gut; guilt. His mind was a jumble of thoughts, mostly questions, of why she had taken the risk, why she would have bothered to put herself in the line of fire for anyone. He had a fair idea that she would not have known that it was him she was saving, the snowy haze that lingered in the air making it hard to see anything but silhouettes. Yet even then she had still gone out of her way, and gotten hurt in the process, just to ensure whatever random soldier that had failed to find cover was unharmed. She was braver than he gave her credit for.

His eyes followed her every move after Gene had left the foxhole they had fallen into, though in all honesty, they had been watching her for much longer than that. He remembered the way she interacted with Gene, and he wondered why she seemed to show a softer side for only a few of the men. Perhaps it was all backwards, and it was the other men who had given her a harsher side, one that had pushed her away. The guilt that ate at him came back as he realised his mistake, his mind flashing through the memories of what he had said to her, and how he had watched as others did the same and did nothing to stop them. That feeling didn't stop him from staying silent though, and if anything, it made him more reluctant to speak with her as he had come to know just how much he had screwed up. He felt like an idiot, so busy assuming the worst in her to see that he was a large part of the problem. She wasn't putting herself on a pedestal, she was protecting herself by being closed off to those around her who had taken one look at the woman and decided she wasn't worth their time.

They had lost Skip and Penkala the next day and following that, they had lost Buck, who seemed to feel the weight of the world collapse on him after he saw the explosion that took the two soldiers. Y/N could see where it had all gone wrong with the lieutenant, having watched as the light seemed to leave his eyes day by day until finally something gave way. She felt for him, but she could do nothing as she felt her own pressure on her shoulders, just as everyone else did, pushing her further into silence as she let her thoughts consume her more with every passing moment. The woman had sat quietly in the foxhole beside the ever present sergeant as Buck was led away by Lipton and Luz, tears leaking from his eyes and whimpers leaving his lips. Her mouth had grown dry, her heart clenching almost painfully at the sight of the broken man. Her eyes had meet Joe's for but a second as they shared a look that mirrored the other's, worry and unease swimming in their expression before she pulled her gaze from him, gulping down the feeling of disappointment.

The days following were much the same as each other, and though the two had spoken the odd word to one another when needed, they had generally kept to their own side of the foxhole. The only thing different was that of Y/N's lack of attention on Joe; her eyes no longer strayed to him and remained heavily on the line before them at all times aside from when she was sleeping. It seemed as though her lack of interest in him had increased his interest in her as if he had picked up the slack she had let loose. Her lip was chewed raw as every time she got the urge to look at him, she had countered it by tearing into her flesh with her teeth, like a punishment for having such ideas. The healing gash along her hip held a slight ache, yet it was the itch that drove her crazy, and she had already been growled at by Doc for ripping the scab open. It was the little things such as these that she used to distract herself from him; since she had saved him, he had changed from being the distraction to being distracting, and it sent her mind into a frenzy of thoughts.

It was early evening by the looks of the darkening sky when Joe had wandered off from their shared foxhole to grab some grub, his eyes finally moving from Y/N's form as she continued to watch the line from her spot. He wandered over to where several of the men had gathered to eat, and he made his way to Bill's side as soon as he spotted the man who grinned towards him. They chatted to themselves quietly while eating, mostly about Buck and his departure. Joe held his hands under his arms to warm up as the cold breeze pierced his coat, and his eyes were set on Bill as he spoke until something Cobb said had caught his attention. The sergeant had snapped his head towards the latter man when he mentioned something about Y/N, something lacking respect for the woman.

"Come off it will yah Cobb, she's just trying to do her job." Toye voice was firm as it cut through the air, his eyes holding a warning glare that only caused the smaller man to smirk as he turned to look at him.

"Oh? Tell me, has she been serving you as her sergeant well in that foxhole, hm?" Cobb snarked causing a couple of groans and noises of disappointment to sound from some of the men around them as the words left the man's mouth. They may not have all warmed up to the idea of a woman in the company, but she had not done anything to give room for such a derogatory accusation. Joe's hands clenched around his rifle as his jaw grew tense in anger, simmering in his blood while it began to boil. He didn't have time to question his own mind as it acted on autopilot, preparing to defend his foxhole partner's name against this soldier who loves to stir the pot a little too much for his liking.

"Show some god damn respect. She's done exactly what the rest of us have, her being a woman doesn't change that." He replied, his knuckles turning white, holding himself back from socking Cobb across the face.

"Except she hasn't. She's been here for what? A couple of months? Yet what good has she been?" Cobb said with a huff, his upper lip twitching in annoyance. Joe's mind flashed with memories of her body colliding with his to stop him from being blown to bits, and of the blood that leaked from her body as Gene patched her up. His jaw grew sharper, if it even could, the curve of it looking as if it had been cut from steel while the muscles connected to it rippled tightly under his skin.

"You seem to have gotten over this problem with the other replacements a while ago. Just say you're being a sexist prick and go Cobb." Joe said sternly, taking a step towards the shorter man with a dark look on his face. He held his head high as his gaze looked down his nose to assert a warning dominance over the other man, expressing the risk of opening his mouth to talk back once more with that action alone. Cobb seemed to gulp, his eyes trailing over Joe's imposing form as he realised his mistake. He said nothing as he stepped backwards, his feet taking him away from the dark haired man, only lowering his head in a show of capitulation before he scurried away. Joe followed him with his dark gaze until Luz placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling his attention away from Cobb in hopes that he would not run after him to smack him across the face. Lipton watched from not too far away, having heard what had gone one, but he did not proceed to move closer as he glanced over his shoulder to Y/N who stood hidden from the scene behind him. The way her eyes remained on her coffee, wide and vacant, he knew she had heard every word that had been shared between the men.

"Don't let it get to you Y/N." Lipton said quietly as he turned to face her causing her to look up at him. She nodded but didn't say anything. In all honesty, none of Cobb's words had bothered her as she was so used to having comments like that thrown around about her. What did confuse her was the way Toye defended her so firmly, unwavering and looking fully prepared to hit the other man for what he said. Her eyes lingered on said man over Lip's shoulder, taking the time she hadn't used in recent days to look at him, especially now as it seemed no one but the first sergeant before her were aware she was there. She took note of the fact that it took Luz several words to calm Joe down, and she wondered whether he had been defending her or if he had simply been defending himself against the accusation that the two of them had been less than professional in their foxhole. The woman pondered the thought all the way back to their foxhole, though she didn't let the thought consume her enough that she couldn't be vigilant about her surroundings, her gaze remaining on the line as she settled back into her position. It wasn't long before Joe returned, his face no longer holding a tense anger, yet his brows were still furrowed in what she could guess to be concentration. That sat in silence for several minutes, both sets of eyes carefully running over the snowy terrain in front of them until the man's voice cut through the quiet.

"I'm sorry." Joe's voice was like a knife cutting through the tension, though his tone held a genuine edge to it, one that made her whip her head towards him in shock.

"What?" Y/N exclaimed before she had a chance to stop herself, completely thrown off by his words. The man took a deep breath before finally turning to return her gaze, his eyes hold sincerity.

"I said I'm sorry." He repeated, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed his nervousness at the feeling of her eyes piercing into him. "I think…I think I assumed several things about you that have turned out to be very wrong, and I apologise."

"I-" She stuttered for a moment as she processed his words. Her mouth opened before shutting quickly, a motion she repeated multiple times, trying to select her next words but choking on them every time. Joe forced himself to hold back an amused smile at her flustered expression, knowing it was not the right time.

"And the things I said and the way I acted because I let my own assumptions cloud my judgement were uncalled for." He continued, his hands wringing around the barrel of his rifle as a means of comfort for the conversation was necessary but it did not stop his stomach from churning.

"You can say that again." She mumbled under her breath, but he heard her and let out a loud exhale from his nose.

"Look, I'm trying to apologise here, can you just give me a second?" The man groaned, feeling a nervous frustration as he wished to express his vulnerable thoughts without the snark she held in her tone. Y/N pursed her lips, her teeth nibbling at the inside of her mouth as she did. She nodded slowly, raising a hand to push a stray hair from her face before she opened her mouth.

"Right, yes. Continue." Her eyes ran over his face as she spoke, taking in every miniscule detail to memory unconsciously.

"Thank you." He said with a grateful nod, "As I was saying, I shouldn't have said what I did. You aren't some failed experiment, and you certainly aren't just a running target. Hell, you've shown more in the last few days than a lot of the men have the entire time they've been here." His cheeks held the slightest tinge of red as he spoke the words to her, his body tense as he waited for her reply.

"Well…thanks Sarg." She says slowly, her expression showing she didn't quite know how to take his apology as she had not at all been expecting it. Y/N's heart bet out of her chest as their eyes met again, his lips turning up into a small smile that she would never admit made her stomach clench in a strange mix of unease and attraction. She knew for the sake of herself, she had to take his apology with a grain of salt, ensuring that he showed he was sorry more than just expressing it in words with little meaning. Her mind flashed with a rerun of his angered face staring at Cobb with a menacing look she'd seen a few time from him.

"Just Joe is fine." Joe's voice broke through her thoughts once more, and it took her a moment to gather herself, realising what he meant after a few seconds. She blinked animatedly as she looked at him, taking in his expression, the small smile mixed with the genuine look in his eyes. The woman chewed the inside of her cheek once more before nodding.

"Alright, just Joe." Y/N replied with a hint of playful grin on her lips, and the man chuckles lightly at her jest. They shared a friendly smile, feeling a strange weight taken off their shoulders; Joe knowing he was able to show he was willing to find a way to redeem himself, while Y/N was simply happy to feel a sense of comradeship from someone she had to spend so much time with.

▄︻デ----══━一

The seat beneath Y/N jostled as the truck hit a stray pothole in the rustic road they drove down, moving towards the town of Haguenau. She felt a sense of warmth as she sat sandwiched between Joe and George, her head titled down with her lower face nestled into the scarf wrapped around her neck. Luz, who had been struggling to not talk her ear off with random gibberish, had finally closed his mouth as he let his tiredness set in, his eyes fluttering closed every now and then. Y/N held a small smile on her face while she watched him, shaking her head in amusement as she turned away from him. A sigh left her lips as she readjusted her sitting position, her tailbone numb from the hard wood of the seat below her while she wished for anything to be able to find a comfortable way to lean her head back to relieve the ache in her shoulders. She shifted her head from side to side, testing each placement of her head she could think of, only to groan quietly in frustration once more. Something soft pressed against the back of her head suddenly, and she fought against herself to not jump in fright, turning her eyes quickly towards Joe. She took note of the way he held his hands raised as he adjusted his own scarf behind her, obviously aware of her discomfort, yet he said nothing and only motioned with a nod of his head for her to lean back. She sent him a small smile, before snuggling her head back, sighing in content at the perfect positioning. Y/N closed her eyes, rolling her shoulders a few times as she settled down for a short nap, ready to shut out the world for as much time as she could. Joe observed her, nodding to himself in silent satisfaction knowing he had been the one to bring her comfort, and he turned away from her with a hint of a smile.

Y/N had woken with a jolt as they came to a halt, her eyes snapping open within a second, gaze already surveying the area around her to ensure she was safe. A gentle hand lay itself on her shoulder and she shifted to stare at Luz as he grinned at her, sending her into a sense of calm, her grip loosening on the rifle she had clutched at tightly. Her lips twitched into a grateful curve at the man, a small nod of her head acknowledging his action before she jumped down from the vehicle behind Joe, her boots hitting the ground with a crunch when she landed.

Y/N had wandered behind the other men, catching sight of Lipton as they made their way towards the houses causing her brows to pull down in concern at the sick man. She jogged quickly to the first sergeant's side, her hair that she had let down to relieve her aching scalp bouncing against her back with every step until she made it to him. Joe had glanced over his shoulder to ensure she was there, but as the spot she had once lingered in lacked her presence, he quickly whirled around to see her walking with Lipton in a different direction. The man groaned under his breath before changing the course of his pathway, manoeuvring through the crowd of men to follow behind her. His eyes scanned the environment around them, flickering to Y/N between completion of every sweep of his gaze.

The trucks had rattled so obnoxiously loud on their drive that Y/N's brain seemed to echo the sound even as she wandered around the house they were setting up as the company CP. The woman nodded her head with a smile as they made their way into what was left of the entertainment room, her expression directed towards Speirs who had acknowledged her greeting with his own tight lipped smile, though if one was to blink they would have missed it as he disappeared into a different room within an instant. She walked behind Lipton as she ushered him towards the couch in the middle of the room with a wave of her hand.

"Sit Lip, take your kit off and I'll make you a warm cup of joe." She said with a motherly smile pulled across her lips, warm and gentle. Lipton nodded with a grateful expression on his face, but it quickly morphed to discomfort as he pulled his webbing off, his muscles aching painfully with every movement. Joe entered not long after, taking his helmet from his head to run a hand through his hair, a sigh of content leaving his lips as he felt the absence of cold wind whipping against his skin. He peered around the place, regarding Y/N tinkering with a small cooker she had pulled from her pouches, a small noise of triumph coming from her lips as it burst to life with a kick start from her lighter. Joe bit the inside of his cheek to stop the smile from tugging at his lips, his eyes lingering on her for a moment before turning to Lipton.

"Nice place you got here Lip." He muttered with a raised brow. Lipton let out the slightest snort of amusement at the man's words, but his lack of energy led him to do nothing more. Lipton lowered himself slowly to the couch with a groan that made her move quickly to him, a blanket she had found in the other room in her hands. Joe had watched her with a small grin as she tended to their first sergeant, a comforting expression evident on her face.

"Managed to snag this for you. Hopefully it'll teach the lad who was using it previously to take more vigilance while napping." Y/N joked as she tucked it over Lip's body while he coughed uncomfortably. She leaned over him, pressing a hand to his head to check his temperature, sending him a reassuring smile. "Joe can you grab that paperwork over by the table please?" She muttered to him, her hand reaching towards it with a point of her finger as she wandered back over to the water she'd left to boil for Lip's coffee. One of her hands rose to pull her helmet from her head, placing it down on the piano beside her before she shook her hair out to let her scalp breath, having been stuffed painfully tight into braids under that metal for too long.

Several minutes later, the woman held the freshly made coffee in her hands, making her way back towards Lip and Joe as they conversed over the paperwork she had previously talked about. Footsteps made Joe shift his gaze to the door, eyes landing on Webster with an unimpressed look as he emerged into the room with a fresh face and lively expression.

"Sergeant Toye. Long time no see." Webster said as his sweep of the room led his eyes to Joe. The latter man snorted, rolling his eyes in bemusement at the newcomer who Y/N did not recognise.

"Long time, huh, you can say that again." Joe all but sneered at him, causing him to almost flinch at the harsh action. Y/N laid a hand on Joe's shoulder as she approached, leaning behind him and Lipton on the couch, as if she was silently telling him to settle down. She handed Lip his coffee, receiving a quiet 'thank you' in reply.

"Sergeant Lipton, feeling alright?" The new man said, eyes flickering between the first sergeant and Y/N, something Joe was more than aware of.

"He's got pneumonia." The woman expressed, while tucking the blanket she had placed on Lipton tighter around his body with her free hand.

"I didn't know we had field nurses this close to the front." The newcomer said in confusion, his words causing Joe to bristle under Y/N's hand. The woman felt her own annoyance flare up, not because she was assumed to be a nurse as she had no issue with that at all for the nurses were admirable women, but because this man had not stopped talking since he'd arrived, and yet they were still no closer to knowing why he was even here.

"Does she look like a fucking nurse to you Webster?" Joe exclaimed grumpily, his hand motioning to her combat uniform, her newly sown chevrons on display along her sleeve, and rifle that still stayed slung over her shoulder protectively. She squeezed her hand once more over his shoulder before letting go and standing, crossing her arms over her chest as Webster stared at her in disbelief.

"My apologies Corporal…" He replied, leaning forward ever so slightly as he waited for her to finish his sentence. She wanted to be sympathetic, but she was very quickly coming to realise how it was to welcome replacements like she had once been, the frustration and envy she felt from his appearance being so clean alone was enough to cause her to lose her sympathy as she became increasingly aware of the grime that marred her skin.

"Y/L/N." The woman concluded, her eyes not leaving Lipton as she moved to whisper to him, asking if he would be okay without her. With a nod of confirmation, Y/N prepared herself to leave the room, and as he realised this, Joe stood, putting his helmet back on and readjusting his rifle sling.

"Corporal Y/L/N. I'm Webster, Private Webster."

"Yeah, I gathered that." She replied dismissively as she grabbed her things, placing her helmet on her head before walking from the room without another word. Joe smirked at her words, a weird sense of pride swelling in his chest. The man sauntered after her, his eyes staying on Webster as he passed him, dark and menacing when he noted the rifleman peering at her back curiously. His shoulder bumped the Harvard man's when he passed, a silent warning to watch himself around Y/N, before he too disappeared out the door. Joe found Y/N not far from the front door of the building, conversing with Luz as she seemingly waited for him to join her on her walk back to first platoon.

"That was a good one Y/N." Joe said as he approached the two, both of whom turned to look at him wandered over. The woman blinked at him several time without a words before she reached forward in a sudden surge of movement, a look of faux concern covering her face as she raised her hand to Joe's forehead. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, his eyes flickering between her and Luz who held the same look of confusion as he did.

"What are you doing?" Joe asked while the back of her hand was pressed gently against his head.

"You feeling okay Joe? You just complimented me." She said, a mocking wide eyed look on her face as she played her role of the worried soldier.

"Ha ha. Very funny doll." The man muttered with a roll of his eyes, while Luz chuckled under his breath behind the two, the amusement clear in his gaze that moved between them. The radioman's stare shifted to Malarkey who had wandered up beside him, watching the two with a similar expression as his.

"My goodness, we should get Gene over here, you just gave me a pet name. It's looking bad Joe, I think you may be worse off than Lip." Y/N continued with a gasp, but a small smirk pulled to her lips when Joe gave her shoulder a playful shove. "So easy to rile up, aye tough guy." She mumbled with a grin as she looked at him one last time before turning and walking off towards their platoon housing. Luz turned his gaze upon Joe when she disappeared, watching as the latter man followed her every step with his eyes. Feeling George's own eyes on him, he shifted around to look at him, taking note of the smirk pulled across his lips as he stared at him with raised brows.

"What?" Joe asked in confusion but his brain slowly connected the dots, Luz speaking clearly of the suggestion he was putting forward with his expression alone. "Don't look at me like that." He continued as the shorter man stayed silent. Luz raised his hands in mock surrender after he slung his rifle over his shoulder, but the smirk never left his lips.

"I wouldn't fault you if you did. She's one hell of a dame." The man said before following Y/N down the street, leaving Joe behind for a moment as said man lost himself in his thoughts.

"He's right you know." Malarkey choked out, and though his face held a dull vacancy, he still managed to send Joe an encouraging smile that quipped at the edges of his lips. Joe looked at the other sergeant for a moment, thinking over the two men's words before he huffed a noise of amusement from his nose, but he covered it with a faux frustrated groan before walking off without another word to follow her towards their platoon.

▄︻デ----══━一

It had become increasingly aware to the men in Easy company that Joe seemed to follow Y/N like a shadow, and with the woman's promotion to corporal for the same platoon Joe was the sergeant for, it was even easier to go about this. The female paratrooper was more than aware of how he lingered constantly at her side, and she relished in the feeling of knowing someone always had her six, especially someone such as the slightly intense man known as Joseph Toye. They moved like magnets; where Y/N went, Joe wasn’t far behind. The two made a good command team, leveling the scale with a contrast in strengths and weaknesses as Y/N made up for Joe's lacking people skills, while the man gave more of a harsh authority where she held a motherly presence. They held an even stronger sense of comradery, having come so far from their icy ways in Bastogne, literally and figuratively.

It seemed everyone held an awareness for this dynamic between the two. Well, everyone but David Webster, even after he had received his first warning the day he returned. It was a funny thought, the man being such a poetic and literary man, and yet he couldn't read into the protective affinity Joe held for the female paratrooper. It was a common theme for the Harvard man to watch Y/N with a look of intrigue since the moment he wandered back into company after his extended stay in that English hospital. Webster was in luck, having gotten away with it for several weeks now, as Joe's attention was kept elsewhere with more important things to protect the woman from. It wasn't until they reached the Eagle's Nest that things changed, and quickly at that; Webster's luck had run dry.

They had found themselves in an interesting juxtaposition, as the further into Germany they went, the further away from harm they seemed to be, with the surrender of a massive number of German troops. It came with the news of victory in Europe that the men had taken the time to revel, indulging themselves in the liquor that flowed plentifully, a gift from Hitler himself as they rounded up bottle after bottle from the dead man's cellar. Y/N sat happily beside Bill and Joe, laughing at a tipsy remark that Luz had made while sipping straight from a bottle of expensive champagne. Her face screwed up at the taste, not particularly fond of champagne but continuing to like the buzz it gave her.

Webster's eyes had strayed to her as they usually did, an action that Liebgott picked up on. A smirk rose to the cab driver's lips, shaking his head at his friend while taking a sip of Cognac from his glass. The Harvard man shifted his gaze when he felt Lieb looking at him, his eyebrows furrowed while glancing between said man and Skinny who sat beside him.

"Can I help you with something Joe?" David asked with a brazen tone. Liebgott's grin grew wider, a cheeky glint in his eye the longer he stared at Webster.

"No, no. Please, continue your shameless staring." The man countered teasingly, his mischievous nature getting the better of him as he felt the desire to let things unfold without his interruption. Webster's face screwed up as an unease settled over him, knowing that nothing good ever came from Lieb's mischief. He rolled his eyes and turned away, shaking the feeling off and setting his sights back on the woman who he had become quite taken with.

Y/N had felt eyes on her for a while now, but she didn't feel the need to seek out who it was, not caring much as she sat leaning her body just the slightest amount towards Toye's side. She glanced out of the corner of her eye, taking note of the precarious position his arm was in, slung over the back of her seat but not close enough to touch her. She sucked her teeth to conceal her smile, but was caught by Bill who held his own teasing smile, his eyes flickering between Joe's hand and her face. The woman squinted her eyes at him playfully before taking another swig of champagne, downing the rest as the men began to cheer for her. She threw her hands up victorious, the empty bottle displayed for them to see. Joe chuckled beside her, looking over the side of her face, admiring her gleaming smile and the way she had her hair down for once. In a moment of coincidence, his eyes flickered passed her and landed on the man sitting at a distance, staring directly at Y/N. Joe took in the way Webster seemed to hold a starry eyed, school boy expression on his face, causing him to narrow his darkening eyes. His lip twitched unconsciously, his arm drawing closer to the woman without her noticing. Joe's gaze moved towards Y/N when she stood suddenly, on a mission to find another bottle of foul tasting but expensive wine. His eyes followed her figure, and he wasn't the only one as his gaze flickered to Webster once again.

Webster took a deep breath as he watched the woman wander across the room to a table in the corner that held multiple bottles of liquor, a bright smile on her face as she glanced over her shoulder to acknowledge a joke that Luz had thrown to her when she passed him. His hand clenched around his glass before he patted his leg as he stood, causing Liebgott and Skinny to look at him.

"I'm gonna do it." Webster proclaimed proudly, squaring his shoulders before heading over to her. Skinny leaned forward quickly to protest against it, his face showing concern.

"No, Web, I don't think that's a good ide-" The man stopped, turning his head towards Liebgott as he laid a hand on his chest, pushing him back to his seat.

"Shut up, I want to enjoy this." He said with a grin, his eyes trained on Joe Toye as he waited for the man to strike.

Y/N stood at the table, moving aside several bottles as she read over each label to decide what she would drink next. She was oblivious to the man that closed in on her position, his mind running with things he would say as he mumbled to himself different greetings. The woman had shifted in her spot, a new bottle pulled to her chest when she twisted around to walk back to her friends. He chose his words before he opened his mouth to say them as he walked up behind her, only several metres between them. Her gaze moved to him just as he went to take one last step closer only for a larger body to step between them and Webster stumbled as to not walk directly into the brick wall that was Joseph Toye. The taller man glowered down at the Harvard man, eyes dark as he squinted them.

"Where you off to in such a rush Webster?" Joe said firmly, his arms crossing over his chest as a small sneering smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. Y/N had stopped walking back to their seats, opting to step up behind Joe, just enough so she could see what was unfolding. Webster's eyes glanced towards her form as she came back into view, and he rolled his shoulders to make himself seem bigger as he looked back to Joe.

"I just…wanted to talk to Y/N." He said, tilting his head up to seem confident in his words even though he was holding back a squirm from how dark Joe's gaze was. The man in question raised his brows, glancing over his shoulder to look at the woman, his grin widening as he saw how she stood closely behind him.

"Bold of you to assume she wants to talk to you." Joe retorted, shifting his eyes back to Webster. The latter man clenched his jaw in annoyance at the interference between him and Y/N.

"And you speak for her why?" Webster shot back, his own arms crossing over his chest. Y/N all but rolled her eyes at the interaction, but let it continue as her curiosity got the better of her, though she was ready to jump in if she must.

"I don't, I just know what she likes, and what she doesn't." Joe said with his smirk reaching ear to ear, his head tilting mockingly as if his words suggested more than what the conversation involved. Webster looked taken aback at the man's words, gaze flickering between the two before him, noting the way Joe had shuffled closer to her, and how she leaned towards him ever so slightly.

"Oh. Oh." Webster raised his eyebrows as if piecing a puzzle together, but at the realisation, his shoulders slumped slightly, and his gaze moved to the floor for a moment. "I..um..I'm just going to…" The man stuttered, his cheeks going red as he realised his mistake, reaching towards the table to swipe the first bottle he could reach before turning around and scampering off with his tail between his legs. As Webster sat back down, head lowered in shame and disappointment, he was aware of the amused giggle that left Liebgott's mouth, greatly entertained by the scene he had watched intently. He only laughed harder when Webster leaned over to smack him across the head in retaliation, dodging the hand before throwing his own back, all while giggling profoundly.

Joe watched Webster go, the smirk never leaving his smirk until he felt a hand grab at his bicep and tugging him towards their friends.

"Come on tough guy." Y/N said, her eyes rolling once more. He couldn't see her face as she had turned away from him, walking in front of him without taking her hand off his arm. He allowed himself to be dragged back to the table and sat back down beside the woman as she too took her seat. All of the men around them held looks of amusement as they looked at the two, before going back to their conversation and drinks when the pair said nothing.

"You're such a pain in the ass." The woman muttered to him beside her, her eyes not looking away from the men in front of her to gaze at him.

"You love it though." He whispered back while leaning closer to her ear, and he watched as the corners of her lips twitched upwards, her eyes glancing at him for a moment before she gave him a gentle shove to the chest.

"Shut up." She threw towards him dismissively causing him to laugh quietly, Meanwhile, her hands fiddled to open the bottle but she failed miserably, letting out a low huff of frustration. He took it from her suddenly, using his hand behind her to hold it and his other to pop the cork before handing it back to her. She muttered a quiet 'thank you', taking a sip of it while throwing her head back. Joe looked at her with a small grin, lowering his hand from where it had previously hovered to open her bottle, letting it lay over her shoulder, his hand hanging over her collarbone. Y/N inhaled quickly, almost choking on her drink while glancing out of the corner of her eyes at him again only for him to look away, gazing up at the ceiling as if pretending he didn’t do anything. She let out an amused huff from her nose before she allowed herself to settle against him, shuffling discreetly closer to him, her shoulder pressed carefully against his side. His smile grew, noting that she did not reject his advance, and he grew more bold as he tugged her closer so her neck rested against the inside of his elbow. Another breath left her nose, almost a sigh of content as she soaked in the feeling, the atmosphere of the room mixed with the man beside her setting her at ease.

Some of the men left early that night, deciding they would take the extra time they had to sleep, while other continued to party late into the night. Y/N felt herself growing more tired by the minute as she snuggled unconsciously into Joe's side. Her eyes seemed to flutter closed every now and then, before one of the men's loud laughs or boisterous words would make her open them once more. She yawned, using her hand to cover her mouth before she turned her face to hide in the collar of Joe's shirt, letting herself slip into a comfortable sleep. She didn't know how long she had been asleep when she felt Joe move underneath her, and she went to groan in annoyance until she felt an arm slip under her knees with another across the back of her shoulders, cradling her to a chest that smelt all too familiar.

"I've got her. I'll see you boys tomorrow." Joe said with a smile as he held the woman close to him, carrying her off towards the room she was staying in.

The man settled her down gently on the bed before tugging her boots off, and throwing the covers over her carefully. He took a moment to admire how peacefully she looked as her hair splayed out behind her on the pillow, low breaths leaving her lips. He smiled once before turning on his feet and making his way to the door, but he paused when he heard her voice call out to him.

"Where are you going?" She mumbled sleepily, one of her eyes squinting open as she looked at him standing a few metres away by the door.

"To bed, baby doll." He replied, his hand resting on the door handle.

"Then get in." Her hand reached towards the edge of the blanket as she held it up for him. His brows shot up and he froze for a moment but quickly made his way over, hopping as he tugged his boots off hastily. He lowered himself onto the bed beside her and he didn't waste any time before tugging her towards him, allowing her to snuggle up against him. She let out a sigh of content as she found her place under his arm, her cheek resting on his chest. She felt a calm feeling rush over her, the tranquillity and warmth he brought her could be compared to nothing she'd ever felt before; all she knew was that with him around, she could never imagine feeling more safe.

"Goodnight Y/N." He whispered into her hair as he planted an affectionate kiss to her head. She let out a hum before turning to look up at him, her gaze staying on him unmoving for a moment. He returned her stare, both of their eyes holding the same look of endearment as the other. Y/N seemed like she wanted to say something as her lips parted but no words left her as she became distracted by him, something she had been many times before. He leaned forward slowly, and she knew in a second what was happening as she met him in the middle, their lips meeting softly. Y/N had moved to lean closer to him, propped up on her elbow as she shifted onto her side, her hand resting on his chest. Joe's hand moved to cup her jaw as their lips moved slowly, tentatively, even though the both of them knew full well that this would happen eventually and neither were shy to think it. Y/N was the first to pull away, keeping her face close to his as she let her eyes trail over his face once more, a fond smile tugging to her lips.

"Goodnight Joe." She muttered back quietly, before pecking him one last time on the lips and then lowering herself back down, her face tucked into his neck. He could feel her smile against his skin, one that mirrored his as he stared into the darkness of the room at the ceiling. Her heart raced in her chest, much like his, and she couldn’t stop grinning until sleep took her and she fell asleep in the arms of her tough guy.

Taglist: @peggyvan (if you want to be added to the taglist for all my fics then flick me a message x)

#AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #I DIDN'T REALISE HOW LONG THIS WAS HAHA #hope y'all enjoyed it #i can't beleive i've never written for joe before #wtf is wrong with me #part of my user name is dedicated to him...#i'm such a disappointment #joey i love you and i'm sorry #band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers fluff #joe toye x reader #band of brothers imagine

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gorgeousundertow · 7 months ago

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@riddlersboyfriend Hi Luke, it's your summer exchange fic!! xoxoxoxo

Don't give it a hand, offer it a soul

Cross-posting on A03 since it's, ya know, long.

First Battalion

CO: Lt Col. Billy Turner. West Point. Demands fawning attention. Shouts. 3/10.

Charlie Company

Capt. Albert Hassenzahl.

From Cincinnati, Ohio. Worked in steel mill.

27 years old

Sometimes brash or impetuous, leading to friction within the unit.

Sufficient. 6/10

Sgt. Roy Speake Jr.

From Birmingham, Alabama. Foreman in cotton mill.

30 years old, yet willing to take orders from younger men.

7/10

Sgt. Mariano Sanchez.

From El Paso, Texas. Family owned a small grocery.

28 years old, difficulty conforming to protocol. Falls behind on runs.

5/10

T/5 John Davis.

From Detroit, Michigan. Janitor.

20 years old, works hard but talks too much.

6/10

Cpl. Harvey White.

From a small town in rural Kansas, farmer.

Age: 19. Inept and unreliable. Poor aim, shirks duties. But could improve if properly motivated.

4/10

Pfc. Paul Devoe.

From New Orleans, Louisiana. Line cook.

Age: 24. Charismatic and optimistic. Keeps spirits up, though impulsivity is an issue.

7/10

Schedule

0600 Reveille

0610 Formation

0630 Tidy barracks

0700 Calisthenics

0800 Wash up

0900 Barracks Inspection

0930 Currahee or obstacle course

1045 PT drills

1115 Outside lecture

1200 Lunch

1330 Mail Call

1345 Lecture/Classroom

1500 Parachute training

1700 Drill

1800 Supper

1900 Lecture/Classroom

2100 Return to barracks

2300 TAPS

Notes September 1942

Dislike Lt. Col. Turner intensely.

Training is more difficult than anticipated.

Seems that what was true in Boston remains true here. Cannot seem to join conversations with the other men, continue to make them uncomfortable. Thought it would be different here than it was back home.

Notes October 1942

Lt. Col Turner is incompetent, stupid, and worthless.

Perhaps other companies have it better; consider orchestrating a change? Investigate.

Notes November 1942

Chose E Company, 2nd Platoon at random, for observation.

Capt. Herbert Sobel

From Chicago, Illinois. Attending University of Illinois.

30 years old

Would be a close friend of Lt. Col. Turner.

2/10

1/Lt. Richard Winters

From Lancaster, Pennsylvania

26 years old, effective. Has the respect of his men. Commands from the front.

8/10

Sgt. Carwood Lipton

From Huntington, West Virginia. Worked in mother’s boarding house.

22 years old, quiet. And yet the men listen.

8/10

Cpl. Donald Hoobler

From Manchester, Ohio, three siblings, joined National Guard.

Age: 20. Young, but works hard.

6/10

Pfc. Joseph Liebgott

Born in Michigan, moved to San Francisco

Age: 27. Cab driver. Speaks German. Easily angered, needs focus.

7/10

Pvt. David Webster

From New York City. Harvard grad. Writer

Age: 20. Lazy, whiny, as bad at talking to others as I am, in a different way.

5/10

Will continue to observe

Notes December 1942

Col. Sink insisted we march 118 miles, from Toccoa to Atlanta. It snowed. It served no function but to boost the egos of men who did not march alongside us.

Companies became disorderly, and by the end we were not marching in our own battalions. As such, I was marching mostly with E Company.

I spoke with Winters, as he was willing to speak with me. For some reason, he does not seem put off by me as others are–perhaps that is because, apart from Lt. Lewis Nixon III of Nixon, NJ, of HQ Company, no one wants to talk to him, either. Nixon certainly does; he made his way all the way over to E Company from the very beginning of the march, and stayed there, right at Winters’ side. By that token, I spoke with Nixon, as well. The march was miserable, but I believe I enjoyed it more than I have enjoyed any other time here.

We did not talk about much of anything of consequence–Nixon ensured that. I think the man is incapable of serious conversation. You would think someone as thoughtful as Winters would dislike him for that, but clearly he does not. It is odd. They are odd.

I observed the other members of E Company as we marched. They are a tight-knit group, more so than C Company by far. It is not because of their CO, that’s certain; he does everything he can to drive them apart, and clearly loathes Winters.

Winters does what he can, but his resources are limited serving under a tyrant, an experience I can sympathize with. In truth, it is the NCOs that hold the Company together. To a man, they work tirelessly to keep spirits up, assisting those who are exhausted, making sure they eat and drink and sleep when they can.

Sgt. Lipton in particular has an interesting way about him. He doesn’t lead like the others, shouting at them to haul ass like Sgts. Guarnere and Martin do, in the time-honored tradition of NCOs. He gives orders, but he does so in a way that is almost friendly. I can’t wrap my head around it.

Notes January 1943

Continuing to observe Sgt. Lipton.

Pvt. Webster is improving, partly because of Sgt. Lipton. (It seems that Pfc. Liebgott has an influence as well, though I can’t fully understand it. To a casual observer–which I do not believe I am–Liebgott bullies him, but in such a way that it almost seems affectionate. It is puzzling). Sgt. Lipton’s approach is different. He encourages Webster (and others, I do not mean to suggest that his efforts are limited to one man–he supports the entire Platoon. Hell, the entire Company) in subtle ways, walking with him to help him keep the pace up, but letting Webster think it’s because he really wants to hear him talk about Impressionist painters or Romantic poets. Perhaps he does. It is difficult to tell; he seems so genuinely engaged.

Capt. Sobel chewed him out for an imaginary offense (a not unusual occurrence in Easy Company) and Sgt. Lipton accepted it with stoicism. But when Sobel turned his back, Sgt. Lipton smirked. He rolled his eyes. There is steel in him.

Notes February 1943

Went for a run with Winters this morning, came across Sgt. Lipton. Winters invited him to join us. Winters runs like a maniac; running with him allows me to push myself, now that we are now longer running Currahee. I expected Sgt. Lipton to decline, particularly given my presence–no NCO has ever wanted to socialize with me–but he did not. He kept pace with Winters easily. He runs very well.

When we finished, we headed for the showers before Reveille, and Sgt. Lipton grabbed towels for each of us, even though it was unnecessary.

Notes March 1943

Have continued to run with Winters every morning. We have not encountered Sgt. Lipton again.

Notes June 1943

Have ceased running with Winters, as it’s too hot and I have concluded that Winters is a lunatic. We have plenty of PT; there’s no need to add on more. I don’t know why I bothered.

Notes August 1943

Couldn’t sleep, as usual. Went out walking through Fort Benning, found myself by the NCO barracks. Stood and smoked for a while. Went back to bed.

Notes September 1943

The S.S. Samaria is miserable. Am crammed into a cabin with Winters, Nixon, Lt. Harry Welsh, Lt. Heyliger, Lt. Roush, and Lt. Meehan from Baker Company. We have to wear life jackets at all times, and Nixon won’t stop talking about how the Titanic didn’t have enough lifeboats, and the Samaria definitely doesn’t.

Sleep is impossible, so have taken to walking the deck at night. Came across Sgt. Lipton, offered him a cigarette even though I know he doesn’t smoke. He described the racks the enlisted men have, and I decided to shut up about my sleeping situation.

He was there the next night, and the next. He didn’t seem to mind my smoking. If he wasn’t on deck in the same place, I would have left him alone–I wouldn’t have gone looking for him. But he was always there, as if he was waiting for me. He didn’t say much, though neither did I, I suppose. We just looked out at the black sea.

Notes November 1943

Sgt. Lipton–and the other Sgts from Easy Company, I suppose–have mutinied on Winters’ behalf. It was brave. It was the right thing to do. It could force Sink’s hand, push him to realize how incompetent Sobel is. (We should try it in First Battalion).

But I don’t know what’s going to happen to them. To him.

Notes December 1943

It’s all right. Two Sgts. were punished, neither of them were him.

It is clear that my interest in Easy Company is not beneficial, and no longer necessary. I am not gaining anything. I should not be more informed on the goings on in a Company that isn’t my own–that isn’t even in my Battalion. I’m going to stop taking notes altogether, anyway–loose lips and all.

Notes May 1944

Have been transferred to Dog Company. If I see Lt. Col. Turner in combat, I’ll kill him.

This is all pointless, anyway. In all likelihood, I am going to die. We are all going to die. Even…even he is going to die.

Notes June 1944

Sgt. Lipton was injured at Carentan, I do not know how badly.

I was also injured. I will recover.

There were some incidents at Normandy. I shot an NCO; he was drunk and endangering the men. I shot six POWs. They were my first kills. I have killed more, since.

The looks men gave me, before we came, as if they weren’t sure what I was capable of.

They know, now. I know, too.

Notes July 1944

Sgt. Lipton was wounded in the groin and on the face. He is in the hospital here in Aldbourne, recovering. He is several beds down from me. He receives visitors throughout the day.

Now that he is up and about, he comes to say hello sometimes, as I am not yet able to walk. He does not avoid me, as the other men do.

He ought to; it would be better if he did. It’s useful that they fear me. It will make me a better leader.

Notes August 1944

Have been transferred to HQ Company, working alongside Nixon. It’s for the best.

Notes December 1944

Have been transferred back to Dog Company, as they are short on officers. We will be needed, I am told, for what’s coming in Belgium.

Notes January 1945

I couldn’t stop watching 1st Sgt. Lipton. With Winters leading the battalion and Lt. Dike as the empty shirt they’ve put in his place, Lipton has been the Company together. He is exhausted–we all are, of course, but it hurts somehow to see it on him. His eyes are shadowed, I could see it even from a distance. I patrolled the lines of Dog Company often, to catch a glimpse of him. I insisted that our medics share supplies, food. I wanted him to eat. To be safe. I was at the edge of the line when German artillery rained down, and I swear I heard him laughing. It was beautiful.

I would have gone across that field at Foy even if Winters hadn’t sent me. Someone had to go, and I was glad it was me. It was the easiest decision I ever made–it wasn’t even a decision, my feet were going before I even had the thought, as soon as they had Winters’ permission to do so.

And now, I’m in command of Easy Company. It feels…right. Like I should have been with them all along. I know these men. I know what they need.

I knew what 1st Sgt. Lipton needed–he needed to know that someone had watched him, had seen what he had done. Had seen the man he is. And so I told him, in a church, while a choir of girls sang in golden light. It was…a risk, because letting him know that allowed him to see me, as well. To an extent.

He still does not seem frightened of me. If anything, he seems a little amused. I don’t know what to make of it, exactly. But I don’t dislike it.

Notes February 1945

I’ve been promoted to Captain. One would think this would be welcome, but it is not. I couldn’t stop thinking of the men who have died, while I’m still here. I tried getting drunk–it’s what everyone else does, Nixon, Welsh, all of them. I’ve never really seen the point, but last night I thought, what the hell, it’s worth a shot.

I’m sharing quarters with 1st. Sgt. Lipton (he should be Lt. Lipton, but it hasn’t come through yet. Promotion won’t ruin him as it has me). I stumbled there, and I was…I couldn’t…I wasn’t as in control of myself as I would have liked to be.

In truth, I wasn’t anything close to control. I came into the tent so drunk I couldn’t see straight, and I was crying. I hadn’t cried before, not once in the entire war. Not with all the deaths. Not for the men who died or the men I killed. But I cried when I got my fucking captaincy.

Lipton was in bed, and I sat down on his cot. Aren’t you supposed to forget things that happen when you’re drunk? Why do I remember all of this?

I remember I tried to kiss him. At least, I think that’s what happened. It is a little fuzzy. All I know is that I was sitting there on his cot and he was in bed, lying down and listening to me, and then I was half on top of him. I think I remember my mouth on his…fuck, you’d think if I’d gone and done something so colossally stupid I would have the decency to be sure about it. You’d think it would be seared into my brain, something I could go back to sometimes, in the privacy of my own thoughts. But there’s nothing, really. Just a vague sense of closeness, of Lipton, right there.

I got to my own bed, somehow. He must have put me there–by that point, I was too drunk to know my own name. And in the morning he greeted me with his usual smile and a cup of extra strong coffee. As though nothing at all had happened. So I guess nothing did.

Notes February 1945

Lipton is sick. He’s been sick for a week or so, but he’s getting worse. It won’t stop. He won’t stop–just keeps acting like he’s fine, even though his fever is running so hot Doc Roe keeps trying to get him off the line. It’s pneumonia, and we’re out here in the cold, and he still won’t go. I’m so furious with him I don’t know what to do.

I can’t watch over him every minute, so I’ve put Luz on him. Luz has the right approach–firm, but with a smile. Lipton doesn’t respond to direct orders; I’ve tried that.

He remains infuriatingly competent, even when he coughs so hard I worry he’s going to drop a lung on my jump boots. Easy is running on fumes, and yet Lipton has it as organized as can be. And I can’t help coming to him for advice, to discuss options, even when he should be resting–because his advice is invaluable to me.

This town, Hagenau, has been blown to pieces. Is still being blown to pieces. We barely have roofs over our heads, though of course that’s practically a luxury, considering some of the places we’ve been. Easy CP is in a building with only one bed, and I’ve put Lipton there. It took some doing–I thought I was going to have to carry him there, and frankly he’s bigger and stronger than I am. Well, maybe not stronger, with pneumonia.

I could sleep in another room, of course, but I’ll be sleeping on the floor, in the same room. I want to be able to hear him if he needs anything, if he takes a turn for the worse.

Notes February 1945

Something happened last night. I don’t…I’m going to write it down, to see if that way I’ll understand it.

At 0230 I went to bed. The patrol did not go well. Two prisoners is not a fair exchange for Jackson. I was…upset. But I still moved quietly, so as not to disturb Lipton–only he was awake. He called me over, asked how the patrol went. I told him.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“It should never have happened,” I said.

He shrugged, his muscled shoulders moving in the low light from the fire I’d had Luz light in the hearth, and the cooler light from the moon.The room was warm, and he wore only his undershirt. “Lots of things have happened in this war that shouldn’t have, sir.”

I couldn’t argue with that. He slid to the side, gesturing for me to sit down on his bed, as I’d sat a couple of weeks ago, drunk off my head. I obeyed, but I frowned at him, unsure. “What are you doing awake? Can’t sleep? Should I get Roe?”

Lipton shook his head, a little smile on his face. “No. I’m feeling much better, sir. I wanted to see how you are.”

I wasn’t quite sure how to respond. “I…I’m fine?” It sounded like I was asking him for the right answer, but how I was wasn’t something I’d considered in…well, in years, I suppose. Since well before Normandy.

“Good,” Lipton said, taking me at my word. “Would you like some of this?” He held up a bottle and I blinked at it. It was schnapps–I’d taken it from a German couple next door, along with some kind of pastry. Apfelstrudel, they’d called it.

“I don’t really drink,” I said warily, thinking of that other night.

Lipton grinned. “Neither do I, but I figure you got this for me for a reason, right, sir?”

“The woman said it would cure you.”

Lipton held out the bottle to me expectantly, so I took a small sip. It burned going down, too sweet. I handed it back to him, and he took a sip himself, placing his mouth where mine had been. I watched his throat as he swallowed. I was so close to him, I could hear the sound his lips made as they left the bottle. “Another?” he asked.

I shook my head. I didn’t understand what was happening–maybe nothing was happening, maybe this was all perfectly ordinary–but I sure as hell wanted to remember it clearly tomorrow. Lipton took another sip, made a face, and closed the bottle, setting it down on the floor. “Have you had a lot of that?” I asked.

Lipton shrugged, loose. “Some.”

“Enough to cure you then,” I said, and he laughed.

“I guess so.”

I could feel his hip against my leg, and the room got a little brighter with the light of an explosion from a couple of blocks away, and I could only hope it hadn’t done any more damage than we’d already sustained tonight. His eyes are so soft. “I should let you sleep.”

I didn’t stand up, though. I meant to, I meant to get up and go sleep on the floor like I’d insisted I would. I was going to, any second, but I hadn’t yet when Lipton said, “You could sleep here with me.”

I try not to let my emotions show on my face, but I must have looked surprised (I was more than surprised), because Lipton added, “We’ve all slept in tighter quarters than this, in Bastogne. There’s no need for you to sleep on the floor, sir.”

And it’s true. I slept as close as I could to other men in foxholes, because otherwise we would have frozen to death. But this room had a warm fire. There was no reason to. And yet, Lipton slid to the side, making a little more room for me–there wasn’t a lot, it was a small bed–and so I…lay down.

I didn’t take off my boots, or my jacket or anything. I didn’t want to risk taking the time, in case he changed his mind. I lay on my back, but that didn’t quite work, it was too close, so I turned onto my side. I should probably have faced away from him. I didn’t.

His face was right there. I could have kissed him again (did I even kiss him, before? I’ve never been certain). He blinked at me in the darkness, but I didn’t move. Eventually, his eyes closed, but I lay there for a long time, long enough to feel him relax and curl into me. I pressed my lips to his shoulder, and I thought I felt his breath against my hair, but I couldn’t be sure.

When I woke up in the morning, he was gone.

Notes February 1945

I haven’t known what to do with myself all day. Lipton has been hard to pin down–now that he is feeling better, he is working harder than ever. Winters canceled the second patrol, but we still need to act as though it is going forward, which means the same amount of work, plus I needed to make sure Lt. Jones is squared away.

I had Liebgott and the others firing across the river, while Webster and Sgt. Martin hid in the house. By the time I got back to the CP, it was 0300.

Lipton wasn’t in the bedroom waiting for me. He was awake and working with Luz, sorting through the supply delivery. I stopped in to say goodnight and when he said goodnight back, he…well, he smiled at me. But Lipton smiles at everyone.

I don’t like this. I don’t like being uncertain.

Notes February 1945

It’s Lieutenant Lipton now, at long last. Welsh caught up with us, and he had Lipton’s bars with him. I was there when Winters pinned them on, when Lipton shook his hand. There were so many of us there–Nixon, along with Luz and Webster in the other room. Hell, even Lt. Jones was standing there. What felt like it ought to have been a close moment, something for just me and him, wasn’t, couldn’t have been, with so many men around. But of course it wasn’t just for him and me–why would it have been? I’ve only been his CO for a month. Of course he would want to share this with men he’s known for years. He’s earned that and more.

But I was impatient. I couldn’t…after spending yesterday so uncertain, I didn’t want to spend another moment that way. And we were equals now, or almost. We were both officers, at least.

So I took him by the arm and brought him into the other room. It wasn’t private, by any means–they were all still right there, Harry and Nixon drinking from Nixon’s flask, Winters watching them in that amused way he has. And we were going to be heading out soon–I’m writing this in the back of a jeep as Winters drives, in fact. But I couldn’t wait.

“Yes, sir?” he said, expectantly.

I had absolutely no idea what to say. “Um. Yes. Congratulations, Lieutenant.”

He smiled, wide and sincere, that smile that spreads so far across his face that it lifts the downturned corners of his eyes. “Thank you, sir.”

I had to think of something else, some reason to keep him here away from everyone else while I thought of a way to ask what I needed to ask him. “And you’re sure you’re feeling better? Because we could go to an aid station.”

He reached out and squeezed my arm, just below the elbow. It was a little thing, something I’d seen the men do all the time. Hell, Winters and Nixon were never not touching, it seemed. “I promise, I’m fine, sir.”

Just a little thing, but it seemed like I could feel his hand on my skin, even through my coat. No one ever really touches me. “I…” I cleared my throat. “I’m glad to hear that.” His hand slid down, so that his fingers touched the bare skin of my wrist, just resting there. From the other room, it wouldn’t have looked like anything, but it felt like everything. “Lieutenant Lipton…”

“You can call me Lip, you know, sir,” he said. “Everyone else does.”

“Lip,” I repeated, quietly. It probably came out as a whisper. I don’t think I will call him Lip, in front of other people. I think I’ll keep that close.

“Sparky!” Nixon called from the other room. “We’re moving out in an hour, think you can manage that?”

Lipton’s fingers tightened on my wrist before letting go. “Yes,” I said, without looking away from him. I heard the sounds of the other men leaving, of Winters talking to Jones, of Luz giving Webster a hard time, of Welsh and Nixon bantering back and forth. Lipton stepped back, and I felt the moment slipping away, as if this was my only chance, and if I didn’t say something right then–though I still didn’t know what I should say–I would never get another try.

So I reached out and grabbed the back of his neck. His mouth was warm and soft, tasting of coffee and stale bread. He kissed me back, and the relief in that was enough to make me dizzy.

We broke away to catch our breath, and he smiled against my mouth. “Ron,” he whispered.

We had to leave that room, then, and that house full of broken walls and rubble, to gather the men and move on to another house in another town. But he’ll call me Ron again, I believe, when we’re alone. And I’ll call him Lip. And maybe there isn’t anything else that needs to be said, for now.

#band of brothers #fanfic #hbowarsummer24 #speirton #ronald speirs #carwood lipton

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softguarnere · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! Your writing is amazing! Could you write something Joe Toye x reader or George Luz x reader?

The Rest of the World Falls Away

George Luz x reader

A/N: This is written for the fictional depiction from the show - no disrespect to the real veterans! I feel like I don't have as many fics for Luz as I do for Joe, so I decided to go with him. Thanks for the request, Anon, and I hope you like this! 💕🕊️ Warnings: mentions of war

The airfield is buzzing with energy, like a livewire. Uniformed men dart around in every direction, trying to find all their supplies, trying to get in line for a mohawk, trying to get the grease smeared on their face just right. And trying to find their friends to say goodbyes that hopefully won’t be goodbyes – merely see you later-s or good luck-s.

There seems to be an endless list of things to do, and at the same time, nothing you can do but watch and wait. Standing with your fellow nurses off to the side in front of the tents, you observe the scene around you, trying hard not to think about how some of these men that you’ve gotten to know will not be coming back from this jump. Instead, you keep your eyes focused on the sky.

It’s brilliant, as the British men walking around would say. Warm sunlight lights the area, spilling golden paint over the scene, giving it an angelic look. Even the palest and most nervous of the men regain some of their natural color standing in it, coming back to life. Artists will paint this someday, making them all look strong and shining, like paintings of the Greeks and Trojans preparing for war. Hopefully the artists will get the lighting right.

“Everything ready to go?” Sarah, one of the upper echelon of the nurses, asks for the hundredth time, just to give herself and everyone else something to do. When all of you nod in response, she pushes a sigh through her nose. “Well, nothing to do but wait then.”

You wring your hands as you watch the men. Men with whole lives ahead of them. Men with families back home worrying about them. Men with girlfriends . . .

As if on cue, one of the paratroopers approaches then. He strides forward purposefully, and even beneath all the paint on his face and his mused-up hair, you would recognize him anywhere – especially when he gets close enough to flash you a smile.

“Oh!” One of the other nurses pats your shoulder. The gesture says it all: there’s excitement and jealousy that your beau has sought you out before the Big Jump, but also sympathy because of the risk . . .

The rest of the nurses are probably expecting a show. The last thing you want is for these next few minutes to be a spectacle, though, something that they can replay in their minds whenever they need a bit of drama, or something they can claim as their own years down the road when they need a good story to tell. No, this belongs to you. And to George.

And to no one else, you decide as you step forward to meet him. Gently, you ghost your hand over his elbow, steering him away from the gaggle of nurses, back behind the tents, to a more private area. It’s not like you expect something to happen – there’s no time for anything that anyone would love to gossip about – but if you can be selfish this once, claiming a few moments for yourself, then now is the perfect time.

Once the two of you are away from prying eyes, George takes your hands in his. He holds them, and you squeeze his in turn. You stare at your joined hands, neither speaking; there’s too much to be said, with everything that’s about to happen. It is strange, though, to see George at a loss for words. Who would have thought it possible?

Finally, George shakes his head. “Can’t believe it’s finally here. The Big Jump.”

“I can’t believe we’re getting split up,” you say. “Two years. We’ve seen each other almost every day since Toccoa . . .”

A cruel twist of fate, surely. It had been easy to imagine that you would be one of the nurses chosen to travel to France and establish an aid station. But instead, you’ll be here, in England, waiting.

George runs one of his thumbs along the side of your finger. “Gives me all the excuse I need to get the job done and get out of there.”

You’re long past the point of feeling embarrassed whenever you realize how much George likes you, and how much you like him in return. Still, your heart flutters inside your chest like a butterfly beating its wings against a glass jar; it could soar to new heights if you would let it.

Now seems like the perfect time. You hate slipping one of your hands out of George’s, but you use it to reach into the pocket of your apron and take hold of a small piece of paper. Then you press it into George’s free hand.

“Here,” you say, pressing your token of affection into his hand. “To remember me by.”

The picture had come in a letter from home a few weeks before. It’s the small photograph that had been taken on the day of your graduation from high school. A few years old now, it still looks like you, nevertheless.

George smiles down at it. With care, he stows it away in his jacket pocket, right over his heart. He pats it. “That way you can make the jump with me,” he explains.

Before either of you can say another word, that fateful call echoes across the airfield – the men are being told to get ready to board the planes.

No! That can’t be right! There has to be more time. You have so many things to say, you just need a little more time to figure out how to word them –

“Hey.” George takes your chin in his hands, bringing you to focus on him. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” Beneath his face paint, his eyes look determined. Your own feel wide as saucers.

“Okay,” you agree. Not caring about the grease coating his face, you surge forward and kiss him. For just a moment, the rest of the world falls away. Away from prying eyes, you try to convey everything you want to say in this one kiss: how much he means to you, how you hope he’ll make it back . . . With the sudden rush of activity on the airfield, kissing George is like standing, unbothered, in the eye of a hurricane, safe from the storm.

The kiss breaks and the storm sweeps the two of you up in it. You’ve got to go, both of you. There are duties to be performed. Duties that the outcome of history, the fate of the world, depend upon.

“I love you,” you whisper. It’s only the second time you’ve admitted it.

“I love you, too,” he whispers back. “Will you wait for me?”

“Of course.”

He kisses your hand then, like a gentleman in a novel, as he departs. A smile flashes from beneath his face paint, and then he’s walking away, to the rest of his company, to the planes, to his fate. But every few feet, he glances over his shoulder at you.

There’s probably something that you should be doing. But with all the preparation that you and the other nurses took part in this morning, you doubt there’s anything to keep you distracted. Collecting yourself, you break away from your spot and begin walking back to the tent. As you walk, over all the commotion, you hear a familiar voice that hasn’t quite faded into the distance yet yell, “Hi-ho, Silver!” followed by other men laughing, cheering, and returning the call.

You smile despite yourself. If George is still joking, then everything is going to be okay.

#george luz #george luz x reader #band of brothers #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers imagine #my writing

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bloodstainedsaint · 1 year ago

Text

of sweet teeth and indulgence (dick winters x reader)

summary: just home from the war, you and dick go on an ice cream date :)

word count: 1200+

warnings: domestic & post-war dick, who's also still shy despite an established relationship); fluff, fluff, and more fluff (+ mentions of war i guess but that's like in every fic); and mentions of nix bc he should be a warning in all winters fics lol

notes: inspired by this and this, happy christmas to anyone who celebrates 🎄 this is my present to you !!

“(Y/N), are you ready yet?” Dick called from downstairs. You were taking some time to doll yourself up, putting your hair in a trendy style, wearing makeup and accessories, donning a nice dress and heels — things that you haven't done for three years on account of your service in the war. While you wanted to dress up for Dick, this was also for you. You took a final look in the mirror and found someone you hadn't seen in years looking back.

“Coming, Dick!” you responded, almost losing your footing coming down the stairs due to your excitement (and the unfamiliarity of heels compared to the sturdy boots you'd become accustomed to).

Dick watched with wonder in his eyes and a smile upturning his lips; he thought you looked like an angel coming down from heaven.

Mistaking his expression as teasing at your expense, you lightly smacked his chest with your purse, a grin of your own gracing your face. “You could've helped me with my hair, you know.”

“No, you…” he started, his face turning the color of his hair as he cast his gaze off to the side, “...just look stunning.”

Heat rising to your cheeks, you decided it was your turn to soak in the other's appearance. It was much different than the fatigues and officer uniforms that you’d been admiring him in ever since you met him at Camp Toccoa, but you'd be lying if you said seeing him in a suit and tie didn't similarly drive you crazy.

You tenderly took his face in your hands and guided his eyes back to you, whispering, “You look handsome as well, Dick.” You brought him closer to give him a short, sweet kiss that made his heart stop beating in his chest.

He pulled away and gave you a quick peck on your forehead before offering you his arm. You gladly accepted it, and the two of you walked together to his car. His hand gently rested on your thigh as he drove, the radio playing swing music.

“Where are we going?” you asked as you took your eyes away from the window where you’d been watching trees pass by, their leaves falling to the ground in vibrant displays of red, orange, and yellow.

“Ice cream,” he said simply, a playful smile on his face and a quick glance to you.

You rolled your eyes with an incredulous look. “Yes, I know we’re getting ice cream. I was asking where.”

“Well, Nix recommended this one place. We’re going to see if Raritan’s ice cream is up to snuff.”

It really astounded you how much of a sweet tooth the man next to you had; even in autumn when the weather was chillier he couldn't turn ice cream down. You bet he could go for ice cream during a winter as harsh as Bastogne’s was, where his nose and ears had flushed cherry red and his face had become pale.

You smirked. “Of course. Because why would Nix ever lie to you?”

“Because he knows not to mess with me about ice cream.”

Dick helped you out of the car when you arrived and took your hand as the two of you walked inside. The interior popped out at you: checkered floor and a counter with a row of colorful stools across from the ice cream holders and soda fountains. Dick had said that the ice cream parlors (if one could call them that) were much more modest in the camps and forts he’d trained in prior to Georgia; in Europe, ice cream was hard to find at all — which was why his face lit up with joy at the selection of frozen treats.

Watching your lover, a usually private man, positively beam and hold your hand tighter in his as he led the two of you to the counter brought a smile to your face. He ordered one of his favorites: not plain vanilla, as one might think of someone like him, but cookies and cream, while you decided to go for a pumpkin pie flavor to match the autumn mood. Dick, being Dick, paid for both of them and took you outside to walk along a path shaded by grand trees on either side.

As you walked by his side, hand in hand, your conversations went wherever your mind took you. There was much to talk about now that the war was over and not occupying all of your time.

“How’s Lewis?” you said, having gotten to the ice cream cone.

“Doing better,” Dick said with a sigh, “though sometimes he still comes drunk or hungover to work. One time he showed up and asked if we were married yet.”

You raised your eyebrow. “Are you sure he wasn't sober? That seems like something he’d say sober.”

“Drunk as a skunk. But the promise I made then hasn't changed; we’re going to find a small, quiet corner of the world together and get married there.”

Imagining a ring adorning both his and your ring fingers someday, you squeezed his hand. “You’re a man of your word, Dick; I don't doubt you for a second.” You blissfully sighed and gazed at the sky, reminiscing about all of the stolen kisses and fleeting moments the two of you shared during the war. “We did so much sneaking around back then, but the whole of E Company knew anyway. D’ya think it was me helping with you shave during the Bulge that gave it away?”

He chuckled, a sound that only you and a few others had the pleasure of hearing often. “Nix will always remind us that he knew first and that he was the one who got us together. The sneaking around was just for us to look good around Sobel and everyone outside of Easy.”

“Couldn't have him knowing that his XO was running around with a subordinate,” you said, bumping his shoulder. “If only he could see us now, going on an ice cream date and planning to get married. Might shock him more than your request to be court-martialed.”

Finished with his ice cream, he sighed and said, “I've missed this.”

You turned to him with a simper. “What, ice cream?”

He smiled as he shook his head. “No, walking with you like we did whenever we got the chance to get away.”

“We have all the time in the world now for that and anything you want to do.” You slowed your walk to a stop and fully faced him. “This is our reward.”

Your eyes caught something on his lip, so you leaned in to kiss him, which he gladly indulged you in. Barely pulling away, your lips ghosting his, you said, “You had some ice cream on your lip, Major.”

“You know, ice cream’s not the only thing I’ve missed.” He brought his hand to the back of your head and kissed you unabashedly, realizing and taking advantage of the fact that finally no one was watching. Giggling into the kiss, you tasted not only the sugar of the ice cream but also the bittersweetness from years of yearning for one another. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer, deepening the kiss, and all of the time lost during the war was made up in that one moment.

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101, @sweetxvanixlla

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #dick winters x reader #dick winters #hbo war #easy company #101st airborne #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #hbo war fanfic #richard winters #richard winters x reader #band of brothers imagines #damian lewis

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she-wolf09231982 · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 1- The Age of Chivalry

Summary: You're reassigned to Easy Company when one of their medics was injured pre D-Day. You expect some sass from the Company since you'll be the only female soldier in 100 miles but never expected for any of them to befriend you.

Author Note: Mature audience, Joe LiebgottxFemMedic, WW2, Character introduction, Pre D-Day, She/Her Pronouns, Y/N, L/N, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Military Terminology, Inappropriate Nicknames, Band of Brothers References, Mentions of Weaponry, Smoking, Story takes place Episode 1- Currahee

*These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~

October 1943

It was never a good idea to mix a single female with a Company of deprived men in the Army...but here you are. You found out you were assigned to Easy Company 2nd Battalion 101st Airborne Division in Fall 1943 when they lost one of their medics to an injury. Although you trained separately from the males at Toccoa in the Divisional medical unit and were one of very few females allowed to work alongside men, you got along quite well with most of the guys. You held your own never asking for special treatment or never played the ‘damsel in distress’ card, so Easy Company learned rather quickly that you can keep up.

~~~~~~~

You remember the day you arrived at Aldbourne, England to make contact with the boys of Easy Company. With your reassignment order in hand, you approach a group of soldiers sitting at a picnic bench outside a building. All of them looking a bit rough, but nonetheless smoking and joking with eachother. They take a pause as they notice you approaching them. Some of them sizing you up and down as you carry your duffel full of medical supplies and wearing fatigues that have yet to see the battlefields like theirs have.

“Hey, you lost there, lady?” Private Roy Cobb called out to you, sizing you up again as you continued to walk towards them without faltering.

You shoot the mouthy Private a look of disdain before responding.

“I’m looking for Corporal Roe. I was told to make contact with him as soon I arrived.” You speak to the group as a whole.

They all exchanged looks and a few whispers.

Corporal George Luz stood up.

“Why, I’m Eugene Roe. But around here they call me, ‘Doc.’” He declared confidently with a cocky grin.

The others started to snicker. One laid a heavy pat on his shoulder showing his appreciation of the joke.

You rolled your eyes, releasing an exasperated sigh.

Sergeant Denver Randleman stood from the bench, then walked towards you pushing Luz aside shaking his head as he passed him. He was a larger man. Like a bear. Never removing the cigar hanging out of the corner of his mouth as he spoke to you.

“He’s across the way this way, I’ll take ya to him.” He said, motioning you along in the opposite direction.

“Thank you, Sergeant.” You reply.

“No problem. And it’s just ‘Bull,’ ma’am.” He said politely in his thick Southern accent as he passed you leading the way.

You turn on your heel and proceed to follow Bull, ignoring the distant whistles you heard from some of the men you just met behind you.

~~~~~~~

“I hope the guys haven’t given you too much trouble so far?” stated the actual Eugene ‘Doc’ Roe when you crossed into the designated aid station.

“Nothing I haven’t dealt with before, Doc.” You say with conviction.

Bull chuckled, finding your response amusing.

“Yeah, I bet.” Doc replied before continuing.

“Well, let’s get you in processed here, and squared away. Thanks for bringing her here, Bull. I’m sure those other idiots would’ve just sent her to their barracks.” he said with a roll of his eyes.

Bull nodded with a small wave.

“See you at chow, L/N.” Bull called back to you before he left.

When Bull returned to where the others were still gathered, they bombarded him with questions.

“Did you catch her name??” Sergeant (Sgt) Don Malarkey prodded.

“-is she coming to Easy Company??” Sgt Bill Guarnere interrupted before Bull could answer.

“-did she say anything about me?” Luz questioned.

As the interrogation got heavier, he threw his hands up and removed the cigar from his mouth.

“GUYS!! Take it easy, will ya? You’ll see her later at chow, just don’t attack her with all of these questions right away, k? We don’t want to scare her off now, do we?” He explained as he replaced his cigar and walked away.

They all swapped looks of excitement.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going to have me a shower before dinner this evening.” Corporal Joe Liebgott stated while flicking his cigarette butt, rising from the picnic bench, shouldering his rifle.

“Ok, Liebgott, like you have a shot.” Malarkey teased.

Liebgott turned to him.

“Oh contrare, I feel you underestimate me, Don.” He shot back at Malarkey while walking backwards, then turning back around.

The group scoffed at him collectively.

~~~~~~~

You got to chow early before any of the other men started to show up. You tucked yourself way in the back at a long table in the corner. You made sure to keep your head down, hanging over a tray trying to swallow some of the Army’s finest slop.

“Should’ve just stuck to a dinner roll with margarine.” You whispered to yourself as you grimaced from the last mouthful of mystery meat from your plate.

“Not exactly a high-end dish from The Ritz, now, is it?” Sgt Carwood Lipton joked as he sat down across from you with his own serving of slop.

“Yeah, not quite.” You respond while poking at a hard, clay-like mound on your plate that was supposed to be mashed potatoes.

“You’ll get used to it.” Bull stated as he sat next to you with his tray.

You ‘psh-ed’ at Bull’s statement.

“I highly doubt that. But I’ll make do.” You convinced yourself. “Surprisingly not the worst food I’ve had.” You added.

“Really, there’s something out there worse than this?” Lipton asked astonished as he stirred his cold soup that looked like ketchup and water.

“Oh yeah! Pixley and Ehler’s Diner on Clark Street in Chicago has some questionable selections.” You explained.

“Is that where you’re from?” Corporal Frank Perconte queried as he sat next to Lipton.

“I am.” You replied with pride.

“You Italian then?” Guarnere asked, inviting himself to the conversation, sitting next to Perconte.

“Italian and Irish.” You clarified.

“Ssshh, a goddam Mick-Deigo.” Guarnere sneered crinkling his nose in disgust.

“Leave’er alone, Gonorrhea.” Liebgott interjected sitting next to Bull.

“I’m guessing you're Italian?” You directed at Guarnere.

“Sicilian, actually.” He retorted.

“Hm, you know that Sicilians aren’t real Italians, right? Sicily is just like Australia. All the criminals of Britain were shipped there to be ostracized from the mainland. Sicily is just an island of Italy’s delinquents.” You taunted.

The others “ooooo-ed” in unison. Even Perconte who was the other Italian of Easy company.

“She got you there, Guarnere.” Bull teased.

Everyone laughed. Except Guarnere.

“You think you’re funny?” Guarnere challenged.

You sighed and looked at him deadpan in the face without an ounce of fear to show.

“Come on, Guarnere, she was only dishing out what you gave her.” Perconte defended.

“Shut your trap, Perconte, you should be on my side!” he said slamming a fist onto the surface of the table then pointing at him.

The rest of the table filled up with remaining members of Easy Company that could fit that wanted to see the fight unfold.

You folded your arms in front of you on top of the table and leaned forward, making sure you got Guarnere’s attention, then spoke with distinct fire in your voice.

“You think I’m some dame just showing up here straight out of basic training not knowing how to handle myself with soldiers? I’ve been whistled at, barked at, howled at, catcalled, pinched, ass slapped, and manhandled by the worst of them, pal. You labeling me because of my heritage ain’t gonna do shit to me. But I’ll be damned you disrespect me like I haven’t earned the right to be respected. Just remember, I’m the one that’s going to be tending to you if you get shot in the field, sergeant.”

You glare at him, then rise harshly from your seat, leaving the rest of the table in a state of awe and shock.

“Good job, Gonorrhea. You pissed her off now.” Liebgott pointed out with an audible tsk.

“Fuck her.” Guarnere spit back.

~~~~~~~

As soon as you left the chow hall, you found a spot out of sight to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. You leaned against a post looking up towards the night sky taking deep controlled breaths.

“Corporal L/N?” You’re startled by the voice of Lieutenant (LT) Richard Winters. You snap to attention ready to render a salute, but he waves you down.

“As you were. Are you alright?” He asked as you relaxed your stance.

“Yessir, just getting some fresh air.” You reassured.

He looked at you with skepticism, not believing you were telling him the entire truth.

You continued.

“A room full of men who haven’t showered in a few days can make a gal lightheaded.” You joked.

The corner of LT Winters’ mouth started to curl into a slight grin, trying his best not to laugh outloud at your quick wit.

“I see, L/N. Well rest up, we’ll need you to be ready when we move out for the next mission.” He explained.

“Yes, sir. Have a good night.” You replied.

Winters gave a nod and entered the chow hall.

LT Winters bee lined for his company’s table. His men all greeted him cheerfully as he approached the table.

“Lieutenant, got a seat open right here.” Bull called out, gesturing to your vacant spot.

“No thanks, Bull, I’ve eaten already.” Winters responded. He paused before he continued.

“Just ran into Corporal L/N on the way in-” He paused again to assess the men’s reaction.

Some continued eating, pretending like they hadn’t really heard. Lipton, Bull and Liebgott looked up at Winters waiting for him to continue.

“She seemed somewhat troubled.” Winters finished. He waited for anyone to speak up, looking at the group expectantly.

“Maybe her panties got all up in a twist, sir.” Guarnere offered up sarcastically.

Some of the men chortled in response.

Winters, Bull, Lipton, and Liebgott weren’t amused.

“Well, she only said a room full of foul-smelling males made her dizzy and she needed fresh air.” Winters relayed, while looking at Guarnere suspiciously.

The men all started to smell their armpits self-consciously.

“Corporal Liebgott.” Winters called out.

“Sir?”

“Get out there and escort L/N to her tent.” Winters instructed.

“Yes, sir.” Liebgott acknowledged.

“L/N will not walk around alone at night, gentlemen. I don’t care who goes with her, but make sure she always has a battle buddy in the hours of darkness. Tracking?” Winters asked, raising his voice authoritatively.

The table responded “yes, sir” simultaneously.

Liebgott rushed out excitedly and hustled down the street to catch you before you got too far.

~~~~~~~

You were aways a bit ahead before Liebgott found you.

“Hey, L/N! Wait up!” He called after you.

You turned around looking for the voice calling your name.

You stopped walking, waiting for Liebgott trotting over to catch up to you.

“Can I help you?” You asked with a little more harshness in your voice than you intended.

“As a matter of fact, I’m here to help you. I have the honor of accompanying you to your barracks.” He responded with enthusiasm and a smile.

You were taken aback. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh?” You questioned before continuing. “That’s quite unexpectedly chivalrous of you.”

“Well, you have Winters to thank for that, it was his idea.” He responded quite bluntly.

You rolled your eyes.

“Hm, I see.” You reply briskly.

Liebgott realized he sounded like an asshole right then.

“Of course, if you approve, I’ll appoint myself your permanent battle buddy from now on.” He extended with his signature smirk as you resumed walking together.

You felt your face heat up. You averted your eyes to the ground so he wouldn’t see you blush. But Joseph Liebgott doesn’t miss a thing. He grinned wider.

“If those are the LT’s orders, then have at it, Liebgott.” You replied coldly.

“Nah, that last part was my idea.” He stated proudly.

You shot him a confused expression, then he winked at you.

You laughed nervously, looking away quickly to break the awkwardness you felt in the pit of your stomach.

He smiled at you affectionately.

“And call me Joe.” He added.

“Y/N.” You reply looking up at him through your lashes.

“Look, sorry if I’m making it weird. And don’t listen to Gonorrhea. He’s just a jackass with a height deficiency. The kid always has some stupid shit to say.” He explained.

You nod trying to suppress a giggle.

“This is me.” You announce as you approach the entrance to your sleeping quarters. You turn to face Joe. “Thank you for the chat, and the company, Liebgott…I mean Joe.” You say dotingly.

“Forget it. So?” He asked.

You were genuinely confused.

“Sooo?” You reply.

“Am I your permanent evening escort?” he asked with a grin and a wink.

This time you laugh outwardly at his attempt at a flirty sexual inuendo.

“If by ‘evening escort’ you mean my nightly walk to and from one location to another, I’d have to say....I’ll think about it.” You respond flirtatiously with a wink in return.

His face lit up.

“Well alright then. We’ll take another test run tomorrow night.” He proposed.

You shook your head smiling, astounded by the level of confidence this man had.

“Good night, Joe.” You finalized as you disappear beyond the threshold of the tent entrance.

~~~~~~~

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