#ww2 gif

[carnat1on]

₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆.ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔯𝔬.⋆‧₊˚⋆.°.‧₊

✦ Hiii I am Carnation, a 17 old girl who is enthralled by the Third Reich.

✦ Mostly I will post my art and any cute reich photos/edits/excerpts I feel like sharing. But warning, I might reblog/post ed content.

✦ I am new to tumblr so excuse me while I figure it out.

✦ My favorite figures are the von Ribbentrops, Rosenberg, Remer, Speer and Peiper.

✦ Let's be moots! I will fb :). One of my drawings of Marseille:

My account has nothing to do with ideologies of any kind. I also find any fetish/sexualized content off-putting.

₊‧.°.⋆˚₊‧⋆. .⋆‧₊˚⋆.°.‧₊

[cid5]

Tiger 1 SS Division

[wcters]

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.

[spockvarietyhour]

Naval bombardment, Hacksaw Ridge (2016)

[she-wolf09231982]

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.

~~~~~~~

[relda1940]

“Piss off, I don’t want you here bro”

[chronicallytirednixon]

SLEEPY NIX GIFSETTTT

[whiteskullofroses]

Noch einer! (DIETER HELLSTROM X READER)

PART 2! (NSFW)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: YALLL ITS HERE. Sorry for the long wait, but I'm telling y'all it was worth it. Once again it is 1 am, and Dieter is looking rather scrumptious. This one is one hell of a smut, so be prepared. (Yall better be proud of me for finally having the balls to write smut:)) Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list: @kateris-world

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, he took a deep breath and slowly let it out. His left hand was in his pocket the whole time, swiftly he pulled his hand out of his pocket and grabbed your face, to your surprise he didn't press a gun to your lips, he pressed his lips against yours. He kissed you.

You were taken back by his sudden actions, as you were sure this was going to be your end, when in reality, it was just a new start.

You knew this wasn't right, you knew that he was your political enemy but oh god how attractive he was. Besides, you left politics behind a bottle of scotch ago.

Dieter leaned into you and used his free hand to grab your waist. Pulling you closer to him, you could taste the alcohol on his tongue.

His hand moved lower to your hips, squeezing them hard. So hard it almost made you whine out. You let your arms fall around his neck and travel up to his hair. Your loss of sence made you make the hat fall off his head onto the ground.

Dieter broke free from the kiss, breathing deeply. He panted and smikred, then pat his lap : "Come sit, mein Schatz."

Spreading his legs, making room for you to sit on one of his thighs, he sighed. As soon as you sat down, you felt something hard: "Have a gun in your pocket?"

He simply looked at you and grabbed your face: "Shhh..." He lifted one of his eyebrows and placed one of his hands on your lower stomach, dangerously close to your pussy: "Be good and keep quiet." He tilted his head towards the other walk-in room, where the meeting was supposed to be held before everyone got drunk. You could hear the other Germans laughing and playing cards, but once Dieter spoke, all your attention landed on his voice: "We don't want them to hear us now, do we," speaking softly in your ear, making you even more lustful for him: "mein Schatz?."

You shook your tipsy head, all you wanted was him inside of you, him touching you and him covering you in love bites all over, the whole rest of the night.

Looking up at him and into his eyes, sitting in his lap with his already hard cock beneath you, feeling his hot breath on your neck as he kissed and bit it. You were in heaven.

"Good girl." His hand went underneath your fake Nazi uniform dress and right into your panties.

Once his fingers were playing with your clit, you moaned out, totally forgetting about the people a thin wall away from you. Dieter was quick to shut you up with his hand now holding your mouth shut.

He finally started fingering you, drawing circles on your clit and stars in your eyes, you felt yourself getting even wetter and even more hotter. For a man, he was incredibly skilled on how to please a woman, quite frankly, you were impressed, but deep down not really surprised.

His hand was holding your mouth so tight that all that was heard for you were soft muffles and moans of pure pleasure.

You moved your ass on his cock, making him whine out in the sudden feeling of friction. Although Dieter felt like he was going to cross the finish line already, you could feel him trying his best to hold back.

All of this became almost too much. Him quietly moaning and gasping in your ear as you rubbed your ass on his cock, you being drawn to literal tears by how good he made you feel. On top of that, you both were drunk to death.

Just as you were about to come, he pulled out of you and quickly picked you up, bridal style, and put you on the table. You cringed at the feeling of spilled scotch soaking your uniform, but didn't really care, cuz after this night, you were planning on burning it anyway.

Dieter put you infront of him, with your back on the table. Spreading your legs, you couldn't believe such a beautiful sight right on-top of you.

Dieter was now standing in between your legs, his hard cock bulging out of his black pants, his hair a mess and his hungry eyes staring at you.

"Please." Was all you had to utter for him to rip your underwear from under the skirt off. As he threw the panties on a chair close by, you lifted yourself up in a sitting position and unzipped his pants.

Dieter was quick to push you back down. With a devilish smirk on his face he breathed out: "So eager for me, huh?"

All you did in response was moan out his name.

That sent him into overdrive. Just hearing you so desperate for him made him even more motivated to make you unable to walk for days.

Dieter finally pulled out his cock, it was so swollen, you almost felt bad for not making him come already.

He placed the tip of his cock at your entrance and slowly pushed in. You took a deep breathe in, ready to take him.

It didn't take you long to get comfortable with his size and become a moaning mess underneath him.

The people in the other room were no longer an issue, as most of them were already asleep, and those who weren't under such strong influence already left the basement and headed home.

"You feel..." Dieter was barely able to form sentences at this point: "so good..."

Slowly, as he felt himself getting closer to orgasm, he started getting sloppier with his thrusts and much more intense with his voice. He was getting quite loud, and so were you.

Leaning down to kiss you, you could smell his cologne. The fragrance gave off a spicy, earthy and almost citrusy like whiff. Definitely Hugo Boss.

"Dieter!" You screamed out, breathless as he made you cross the finish line and come all over his cock.

"Scheisse..." Moaned out the man before he came inside of you. He let his head fall down to your chest, breathing deeply.

Your tangled your fingers in his hair and started to calm down from your high. It felt so intimate to you, and you loved it.

Dieter slowly lifted his head and kissed your forehead. He picked you up from the table and made you sit in his lap once again.

"Mein Schatz..." He caressed your face, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear: "you did such a good job."

You kissed his cheek and looked Into his eyes: "I would have never, in a million years, guessed how this night would play out."

He simply smiled, looked at the cigarette box on the table and asked: "Noch einer?"

THE END.

[p4nz3r-new-account]

heydrich gifs.

i posted one of them on my old account, and i am reposting them.

(i do not condone fascism or nazism. please leave my profile if you condone or support any of their ideologies.)

[whisperingashgarden]

Timeless

Honestly, I have had this idea stuck in my head for a while; I might turn it into a tiny series, but I'm not sure. Let me know, lol. Yes, this is loosely based off of my daydreaming when I hear Timeless by my homegirl Taylor Swift.

Eventual Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 957

Summary: An unexpected encounter with a handsome blue-eyed stranger and his best friend on your daily bus ride home.

--

The loud screeching of the bus pulled your attention off the worn-inked pages. The book was released nearly six years ago, and you finally got the chance to read it. As the bus came to an abrupt stop, you stood up from the chipped blue bench and placed a worn ribbon into the pages as a bookmark before tucking the book to your side.

You quickly made your way up the rickety steps. The humid air inside the bus nearly made you recoil. Your eyes scanned the row of seats, but you only saw a few open spots. You reached an empty seat and settled onto the worn leather. Your hands clasped tightly around the small paperback.

When your eyes found their way to looking out the dusty window, the clambering of a few guys drew your attention, and you could hear their voices as they yelled after the bus for it to wait. The bus driver rolled his eyes before opening the doors again for the men. Out of breath, they quickly climbed up the steps, scanning the bus.

The first guy, a scrawny blonde, promptly found a seat across the aisle from you. Looking around, you quickly realized the only seat left was next to you. You looked back up at the second guy entering the bus, immediately taken aback by his striking blue eyes. He noticed the empty spot next to you and met your eyes. He smiled down at you, and you nearly lost your breath. How was it possible someone could be so mesmerizing?

“Is it okay if I sit here?” His voice rumbled softly through the humid air, and you were stuck momentarily. You blinked up at him before coming back to your senses. You nod your head, probably a bit too fast, but you don’t have time to think about that. You scoot over, speaking softly towards the handsome stranger.

“Of course…” A small smile pulls at your lips, and he nods down at you before taking up the remaining space in the bus seat. Your shoulders are nearly touching, and you know he can sense your body's stiffness as you try not to invade his space. Your thumb caresses the smooth cover of your book nervously, and you try to focus on the passing scenery. The brunet shifts slightly, and a hint of cologne wafts under your nose: the warm amber and a hint of vanilla settling deep in your gut. Before you can distract yourself from the attractive man sitting close to you on the worn leather bench, you hear his voice rumble deep into your ear.

“The Hobbit?” You could hear the tiny smirk in the simple words. Your head turns to meet his cerulean eyes with a questioning gaze. His lip turns up more before he nods towards the book in your hands. Your eyes dart down at the fantasy book clasped between your fingers before meeting his gaze again. A genuine smile falls onto your face as a breathless laugh falls from your lips.

“Yeah, have you read it?” The man nods, his eyes crinkling in the corner as he smiles at you. He lifts his right arm to settle it across the back of the seat, and his cologne nearly makes you lightheaded as it becomes potent with his subtle movement. He speaks up again, his voice low and gentle.

“When it came out in 1937, Doll.” You feel your cheeks warm at the pet name, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. His face was close enough for your eyes to capture the tiny details of his face, like the few minor beauty marks or the little flecks of silver in his blue eyes. Your smile widened, and you hummed in acknowledgment. Your thumb flicked through the pages of the worn book in your hands.

“I got it as a gift…I’m just now getting around to reading it…” Your voice is soft and gentle like the wind as you explain your reason for holding on to it. The stranger hums thoughtfully, his eyes flitting over your face. You are almost lost in the blue of his eyes when you hear a man cough from across the aisle. The man laughs lowly, the deep timber rumbling through your body as he diverts his attention to his friend situated across the aisle from the two of you. The small blond reaches out his hand for you to shake, speaking his name strongly.

“I’m Steve Rogers. It’s nice to meet you.” You smile at Steve, your hand finding his and shaking it. You respond to him with your name before sitting back against the leather bus seat. The other man speaks up, his eyes twinkling in the sun as the rays drift through the dusty bus window.

“James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.” Your attention is drawn back to Bucky with the deep timber of his words. Your lips pull wider as you nod, and before you can speak up again, the familiar screeching of the bus pulls you out of the conversation. You look out the dusty window, realizing this is your stop.

“This is me.” You speak softly, grasping your copy of The Hobbit and your bag before standing. Bucky moves out of your way, and you wave back to the two men. “It was nice to meet you.” Without another word, the two men watch you walk off the bus. Your feet hit the dry pavement, and you look back at the bus as it speeds off. You look down at the soft paperback in your hands, smiling softly as you remember the handsome blue-eyed man and his friend. James Barnes, you knew his name would be etched into your mind for a while now.

[w0lfchen]

[hydravns]

TOM WLASCHIHA as HAGEN FORSTER/WERNER GIESE in DAS BOOT (2018) SEASON 3 Dir. Johannes W. Betz

03x03: The Tide is Turning

[midnightdraftqueen]

Close to the Fire

Ronald Speirs, BoB x Nurse

Fluff; Angst

Warnings: light swearing, mentions of war, period-typical violence, and concentration camps. Suggestive scene, but no smut.

OK BESTIES, here goes nothing! This is my first time actually publishing a fanfic. Constructive criticism is welcome, just be kind about it. I cry easily lol.

Had to start of with one of my fave fandoms and characters… Ronald Speirs from BoB.*

*This story is based solely on the portrayal of the men in the 2001 HBO series, Band of Brothers. It is in no way meant to disparage the actual men of Easy Company or the other countless men and women who risked their lives in World War 2 and armed conflicts since then.

The ground was slick with mud and blood, the air thick with the acrid scent of gunpowder. You knew you had gone too far—crossed the invisible line between safety and chaos—but when you heard the wounded cries from the treeline, hesitation hadn’t been an option.

Now, lying in the dirt with pain radiating from your leg, you regretted nothing.

You blinked against the haze of pain, your breath coming in shallow gasps. The sounds of battle had moved away, but not far enough. If you didn’t get out of here soon, someone would find you, and there was no guarantee it would be a friendly face.

A shadow fell over you, and for a moment, you thought you were done for. Then, sharp eyes met yours—Captain Ronald Speirs, his expression set in stone, his gun slung over his shoulder.

“What the hell were you thinking?” His voice was low, edged with something that might have been anger—or fear.

You tried to push yourself up, but your body refused to cooperate. “Someone… needed help.”

Speirs knelt beside you, assessing the wound with practiced efficiency. A bullet had grazed your thigh, tearing through fabric and flesh. It wasn’t fatal, but the blood loss and shock were taking their toll.

“Yeah? And now someone needs to help you.” He pulled a bandage from his kit, his hands surprisingly gentle as he pressed it against the wound. “Damn foolish thing to do.”

You swallowed hard, wincing. “You’d have done the same.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he tore a strip from his own undershirt to reinforce the bandage. The rough fabric smelled like gunpowder and sweat, but it was warm, grounding.

“Think you can walk?” he asked, his voice softer now.

“I don’t—” You didn’t get the chance to answer before he was shifting, slipping an arm under your shoulders. In one swift motion, he lifted you against him, his grip firm but careful.

“You don’t have to—”

“Yes, I do.” His tone left no room for argument.

You rested your head against his shoulder for a moment, exhaustion winning out. “You’re softer than they say, Captain.”

A huff of amusement, barely there. “Don’t tell anyone.”

As he carried you back toward safety, every step measured and careful, the adrenaline finally wore off, and the pain set in. You bit your lip to keep from whimpering, but Speirs must have noticed because his hold on you tightened slightly.

“Almost there,” he murmured, voice uncharacteristically reassuring.

The world tilted as he eased you behind the nearest cover. He set you down against the base of a tree, kneeling in front of you. His hands moved quickly, checking the wound and fixing the bandage. For a man known for his brutal efficiency in battle, he was remarkably gentle now.

“You should have waited for help,” he muttered.

“I couldn’t,” you admitted, swallowing against the dizziness. “I didn’t think. I just acted.”

Speirs sighed, his expression unreadable. He pulled his canteen from his belt and pressed it into your hands. “Drink.”

You obeyed, the water cool as it calmed your dry throat. He watched you, as if making sure you wouldn’t pass out, before finally speaking again. “As stupid as it was, that was pretty brave for a nurse.”

Your lips quirked in a small smile. “That almost sounded like a compliment.”

He smirked, shaking his head. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

For a moment, the war seemed distant. The gunfire, the shouting, the chaos—it all faded into the background. All that remained was Speirs, his unwavering gaze locked on yours.

——————————- 🪖🪖🪖———————————

Foy came and went in a blur. You heard the story secondhand, from murmuring soldiers and adrenaline-fueled gossip.

“Ran straight through German fire like it was a goddamn Sunday stroll.”

“I thought he was dead for sure, but then he ran back.”

“What kind of man does that?”

The answer, of course, was Ronald Speirs.

When you finally saw him again, he was unfazed, as if he hadn’t just made history with his reckless courage. But you were furious.

You found him, standing near the remnants of a crumbling wall, speaking briefly with a soldier before turning to light a cigarette. He barely acknowledged you as you approached.

“Are you out of your mind?” The words burst from your lips, anger fueled by fear still coursing through your veins.

He exhaled a slow drag from his cigarette before giving you a sideways glance, brow furrowing slightly. “What?”

Your frustration mounted. “You ran through a field of fire. Straight into German machine guns! For God’s sake, do you even realize how close you came to—” You cut yourself off, because saying it out loud made it too real.

Speirs still looked puzzled, like he wasn’t sure what part of this was upsetting you so much. “It worked,” he said simply.

That was it. That was his entire justification.

You threw your hands up. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to lecture me about being reckless, about taking risks, and then turn around and pull something like this a few days later!”

His expression darkened, something raw flashing behind his eyes. “You put yourself in danger because you wanted to help. I put myself in danger because it was the only way to get the job done. I knew what I was getting into when I joined up.”

Speirs exhaled slowly, the smoke from his cigarette curling between you. His expression remained composed, but something flickered in his eyes—something just beneath the surface, like a battle he wasn’t sure he wanted to fight. You continued to meet his gaze in the tense silence.

“I don’t take unnecessary risks,” he finally said.

You let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Unnecessary? You ran through a battlefield, Ron.”

“It had to be done.”

“And if it didn’t work? If you were shot down in the middle of that field?” Your voice wavered, betraying you. “What then?”

More silence was the only answer.

You swallowed hard, pushing past the lump forming in your throat. “I came here knowing I’d see things I’d never be able to forget. I knew the horror, the bloodshed, the death—it’s why I’m here. To care for men like you. But it doesn’t mean I have to stand by and watch you take stupid risks and throw yourself away like your life doesn’t matter.”

Speirs shifted slightly, gaze never leaving yours. “I told you. I’m a soldier. I signed up to fight.”

“I signed up too,” you countered, voice steady despite the pounding in your chest. “You don’t get to act like your choice is more justified than mine. That somehow you not caring about your life makes you more noble. I didn’t come here to watch from a distance. I came here to stand in the middle of it all. I came here for you — every single one of you.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. The tension, thick and suffocating, crackled like a live wire between you.

Then, just when you thought he might retreat behind that iron-clad mask again, he sighed—a quiet, weary sound, as if something inside him was finally cracking.

His eyes softened, just enough for you to see it. “I care,” he repeated, the words rough, almost reluctant.

Your heart pounded at the admission, at the weight behind them.

But before you could say anything else, before you could make sense of what it all meant, he straightened, the shift almost imperceptible. The moment—this moment—was over.

“We should get back,” he said simply, his voice composed again.

You knew better than to push. But as he turned, you saw the way his fingers curled into a fist, the way his shoulders were just a little too tense.

And you knew—this wasn’t over.

Not by a long shot.

——————————- TIME SKIP ——————————

The smell reached you before anything else. It was thick, rancid, almost suffocating, and it coiled in your lungs like poison. The men of Easy Company had smelled death before—on the battlefield, in the foxholes, in the ruins of war-torn towns. But this was different.

This was something deeper. Something rotting.

You followed the line of men as they advanced cautiously through the trees, rifles lowered, steps careful. No one spoke. The only sound was the distant creak of wind against rusted metal and the occasional sharp caw of crows overhead.

Then you saw it.

The barbed wire fence, twisted and rusted, stretching in jagged lines across the landscape. Beyond it, skeletal figures moved sluggishly, wrapped in tattered rags, their hollow eyes darting toward you with something between fear and disbelief.

A camp.

Your stomach turned violently, a cold shudder crawling up your spine.

The closer you got, the worse it became. Piles of bodies stacked like discarded trash. Wooden barracks that smelled of disease, filth, and despair. And the prisoners—if they could still be called that—stared at you with faces so sunken, so gaunt, that they barely looked human.

You had spent the entire war treating wounds, doing everything in your power to put men back together after battle had torn them apart. But this—this wasn’t battle. This was cruelty.

The men of Easy stood frozen, silent in the face of what they were witnessing.

Winters was the first to move, stepping forward with careful but purposeful steps. He reached the fence, eyes scanning the scene, his jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle tick.

Leibgott was the first to break the silence. “What the fuck is this?” His voice was hoarse, nearly breaking.

A prisoner—the closest one to the fence—staggered forward, barely able to hold himself up. “Amerikaner?” His voice was barely a whisper, raw and weak.

Winters nodded once, his voice steady. “Yes.”

And then the man fell to his knees, his skeletal fingers gripping the dirt, his shoulders shaking as a broken sob wracked his frail body.

That was all it took. The others moved. Prisoners stumbled toward the fence, some falling before they could even reach it, their bodies too weak to sustain the effort. The sight of them—so thin, so hollowed out by starvation and suffering—made your throat tighten painfully.

A hand touched your arm, and you turned to find Winters watching you. “Go,” he said softly. “Help them.”

You nodded, already moving.

You had seen wounded men before. You had seen limbs mangled by gunfire, men drowning in their own blood, bodies broken beyond repair. But you had never seen this.

It wasn’t just physical. The damage here ran deeper.

You knelt beside a prisoner—an older man, his ribs so pronounced beneath his thin skin that he hardly looked real. His lips were cracked, his fingers trembling as he clutched the corner of his tattered uniform. His breath came in shallow gasps.

“Water,” he rasped.

You uncapped your canteen and held it to his lips, tilting it gently. He drank in weak, desperate gulps, some of it spilling down his chin. You wiped it away with your sleeve, ignoring the sting in your own eyes.

“Easy,” you murmured. “I’ve got you.”

Nearby, the men worked quickly. Spears had been set down, rations passed through the barbed wire, blankets stripped from packs and draped over shivering shoulders. But there were too many.

You turned, scanning the area for Winters. He stood near the fence, speaking with a civilian—one of the local townspeople, a man who looked like he had been dragged here against his will.

“Major,” you called, pushing yourself up and striding toward him.

Winters turned to face you, the strain evident in his expression. “What is it?”

“We need a plan,” you said, your voice tight. “Some of these people can’t even stand. They need food, medical attention—”

“We’re doing what we can,” Winters said, his tone even.

“It’s not enough,” you pressed. “We don’t have the supplies for this.”

Winters nodded, his gaze shifting back to the prisoners. His jaw clenched. “We’ll call in support. Get the word out to command.”

You hesitated. “And the Germans?”

Winters’ expression hardened.

You had both seen the townspeople lingering near the camp, some watching in horrified silence, others looking away entirely. They knew. Maybe they hadn’t been the ones holding the whips, maybe they hadn’t pulled the triggers, but they had known.

“They’re already being rounded up,” Winters said, his voice cold.

A flicker of something dark and furious burned in your chest, but you pushed it down. There was too much to do.

You turned back to the prisoners.

No time to think about justice. Not yet.

——————————- 🪖🪖🪖———————————

Later that night, you tried to keep busy. You had moved from one weakened body to another, doing what you could, but it was never enough. You could still hear their cries, still see the haunted eyes of those who had survived.

Now, standing outside the makeshift HQ, your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your entire body thrummed with something you couldn’t name.

Rage.

Despair.

Hate.

It boiled inside you, a violent, sickening thing that made you want to scream, to cry, to throw up, to kill the men who did this with your bare hands just to feel something other than helplessness.

Footsteps approached, and you didn’t need to turn to know it was Speirs.

He stopped beside you, silent for a long moment.

Then—“You need to breathe.”

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh, your throat tight. “Don’t tell me to breathe.”

Speirs didn’t flinch. “You want to hit something?”

“Yes,” you admitted through gritted teeth.

“Then hit me.”

You turned to face him, and for a moment, you actually considered it. But there was no mockery in his expression, no amusement. Just quiet understanding.

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “I need something good.”

Speirs watched you, his expression unreadable. Then, before you could think, before you could stop yourself, you surged forward, grabbing the front of his jacket and pulling him to you.

You kissed him. Hard.

For a moment, he let you. Let you pour every ounce of rage and frustration and need into the kiss. Then, with a quiet groan, he pulled back just enough to look at you.

“Not like this.” His voice was rough, strained. “Not when you’re hurting.”

Your breathing was uneven. “Ron—”

His hands found your face, his touch uncharacteristically soft. “When it happens, I want it to be because we’re choosing each other. Not because of the war. Not because of anger.”

You swallowed hard. “Okay.”

“Come here.” He pulled you into his arms.

You buried your face against his chest, his warmth steady, solid.

“Stay?” you asked quietly.

He didn’t hesitate. “Yeah,” he said before following you inside.

And as you drifted off, his arms still around you, Speirs stayed awake.

Watching.

Thinking.

Trying to understand what the hell he was supposed to do with this thing growing between you.

Something dangerous.

Something real.

——————————- 🪖🪖🪖———————————

The official word came down: Hold positions. Hitler was dead. The Nazis surrendered. The war in Europe was over.

Some of the men cheered, others just stood in stunned silence. The weight of years of fighting, of constant survival, finally settled onto their shoulders, leaving them exhausted, relieved, and restless all at once.

You barely had time to process it yourself before Easy Company made their way up the winding roads to Kehlsteinhaus—Hitler’s prized Eagle’s Nest.

The view was breathtaking, mountains stretching endlessly beyond the horizon. But it wasn’t the luxury or the stolen wealth that stuck with you. It was the absurdity of it.

All this opulence, all this grandeur, and yet it had been built by men who let their fellow humans starve in camps not far from here.

You tried not to dwell on it. Tried to enjoy the moment with the people around you.

But Speirs? He disappeared almost immediately.

“Where the hell did Speirs go?” you muttered, arms crossed as you stood with Lipton and a few of the other nurses.

Lipton smirked knowingly. “Scavenging.”

You huffed. “Of course.”

It was well known that Speirs had some seriously sticky fingers. From pieces of jewelry to entire silverware sets. The man had plundered his way through half of Europe in his spare time.

“He actually asked us for some help,” Lip said, rubbing the back of his neck, his amusement evident.

You blinked. “He what?”

Before Lipton could answer, one of the nurses—Hannah—giggled beside you. “He came back with a dress. An actual dress.”

You stared at her. “You’re joking.”

“Nope,” Lip confirmed, suppressing a grin. “Found it in one of the houses. Brought it back and asked if we could, uh… ‘make it work.’”

A slow, stunned smile crept onto your lips. “Ronald Speirs found a dress for me?”

Hannah nodded. “It’s actually beautiful. Little wrinkled, but it’ll do. And he asked us to get you ready tonight.”

Your stomach flipped, warmth creeping into your chest.

Speirs wasn’t the kind of man who said things outright. He didn’t do grand confessions or flowery words. But this? This was more than enough.

You turned to Lipton. “And what’s your role in all this?”

He chuckled. “Helping him set up a dinner. Well, his version of a dinner.”

“Which means?”

Lip gave you a knowing look. “You’ll see.”

——————————- 🪖🪖🪖———————————

The sun was beginning to set when Hannah and the others finished their work.

You stared at yourself in the broken mirror of the commandeered bedroom, running your hands down the fabric of the deep blue dress. It wasn’t extravagant, but it fit well enough, and after years of nothing but military fatigues, it felt strange—good, but strange.

Your hair was pinned back as best as it could be, and when you stepped outside, the fresh mountain air sent a pleasant chill across your skin.

Speirs was waiting just outside one of the empty halls, hands in his pockets, his usual composed expression in place. But when he looked at you, you swore you saw something shift—something unreadable but warm.

“Didn’t think you’d actually wear it,” he said, tilting his head slightly.

You smirked. “You went through the trouble of looting it. Figured I should.”

He stepped closer, his gaze sweeping over you. “Looks good on you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you masked it with a teasing grin. “Careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

His lips twitched. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

He offered his arm, and you took it without hesitation.

The “dinner” was set up on a balcony overlooking the valley. A bottle of wine—also pilfered—sat on a small table along with a few plates of whatever food Lipton had managed to scrounge up from the kitchens.

It was simple. No candles, no extravagant decorations. But it was real.

Speirs pulled out a chair for you before sitting across from you, pouring the wine without a word.

You swirled the glass, watching him as he leaned back slightly, eyes on the horizon. “So,” you mused, “was this your idea, or did Lipton bully you into it?”

Speirs smirked faintly. “I don’t think Lip has ever bullied anyone. He did help me put together a plan.”

Your chest ached at the thought of him putting effort into this. “Why?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he took a sip of wine, the soft breeze ruffling his hair. Then, finally—“Because you deserved something good.”

The lump in your throat nearly stole your words.

You reached across the table, fingers brushing against his. “So do you.”

He didn’t pull away.

——————————- 🪖🪖🪖———————————

The room was dimly lit when you reached it later that night.

You had barely closed the door when Speirs caught your wrist, tugging you gently against him. His hands found your waist, steady but certain, his forehead resting against yours.

You inhaled sharply. “Ron—”

“I want this,” he murmured, voice low. “I need you to know that.”

Your fingers trailed up his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. “Then don’t stop me this time.”

He didn’t.

His lips crashed into yours, the composure he always wore finally breaking. His hands were everywhere—trailing down your back, pressing you flush against him as he walked you back toward the bed.

It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t frantic. It was deliberate.

For once, neither of you were caught in the middle of a war.

For once, you were just two people, rediscovering what it meant to be alive.

Every touch, every kiss, was unspoken confirmation—I’m here. I want this.

When he finally laid you down, hovering above you with a rare softness in his eyes, he hesitated. “Are you sure?”

You curled your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him down. “Ron, I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

And so he kissed you again—deeply, reverently.

This was no battlefield, no reckless moment of desperation.

This was something real.

Speirs remained awake long after you had drifted off, your body curled against his.

He traced idle patterns against your bare shoulder, his mind restless.

He had spent years convincing himself that attachments were dangerous, that caring too much would only lead to loss.

But here you were.

And for the first time in a long, long while, he didn’t feel the need to run.

——————————- 🪖🪖🪖———————————

The waiting was the worst part. The war was over in Europe, but still raging elsewhere.

Days passed with no word on whether Easy Company would be sent to the Pacific. Some of the men started relaxing, letting the weight of the war finally ease off their shoulders. Others remained on edge, unwilling to believe the fight was over.

Talbert, lucky bastard, won the lottery and was getting sent home.

You found him sitting on a crate outside one of the barracks, scrawling another letter to the girl he never stopped writing to. Smirking, you leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “She’s gonna be sick of hearing from you by the time you get back.”

Talbert grinned, unfazed. “Not a chance.”

You sat beside him, nudging his boot with yours. “Tell me the truth, Talbert. You gonna marry this girl?”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I’d propose the second I stepped off the train if I thought it wouldn’t scare her half to death.”

You nudged him again, teasing. “Oh, I think she’s stuck with you at this point. No way she wrote back this many times without knowing what she was getting into.”

Talbert grinned. “Yeah… yeah, maybe.”

You smiled, but deep down, your stomach twisted. You were happy for him—you really were—but as you watched him tuck away the letter, reality crept in.

What if Easy was reassigned? What if the war wasn’t really over?

And worse—what if they went to the Pacific, and you didn’t?

The thought nearly stole your breath.

Talbert must’ve caught something in your expression because his grin faded slightly. “You okay?”

You forced a smirk. “Yeah, just thinking about home.”

He let it go, but you knew he didn’t buy it.

That night, you found Speirs sitting outside one of the barracks, smoking, his Thompson resting against the wooden steps. The sight of him—so steady, so composed—made something in you snap.

You sat beside him, exhaling sharply. “I’m scared.”

He didn’t look at you right away, just flicked his cigarette into the dirt. “Of what?”

You swallowed, staring at the dark horizon. “Of getting left behind. Of you all going to the Pacific without me.”

Speirs was quiet for a long moment. Then, finally—“You think I’d let that happen?”

You turned to him, brows knitting together. “Ron, it’s not exactly up to you.”

“No,” he admitted. Then, after a pause, “But this is.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small gold ring, the metal glinting faintly under the dim light.

Your breath hitched.

It wasn’t extravagant—simple, a little worn—but it was undoubtedly an engagement ring.

And, knowing Speirs, it was also undoubtedly looted.

Your heart pounded. “Ron—”

“Whether I have to jump into Japan or not,” he said, his voice steady, unwavering, “I know one thing for certain—I’m not letting you leave Europe without my last name.”

A laugh—breathless, disbelieving—escaped you. “You stole an engagement ring?”

He smirked. “You expected anything else?”

You stared at him, your chest aching in the best possible way.

Then, slowly, you reached for his hand, curling your fingers around his. “You better mean this, Speirs.”

His grip tightened slightly. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

That was all you needed.

——————————- 🪖🪖🪖———————————

Two days later, the entire company gathered in the open field just outside the barracks. The sun hung low in the sky, casting everything in a soft golden light.

An army chaplain stood at the front, flipping through his worn Bible, waiting patiently. Winters stood beside you, adjusting his uniform, looking strangely at ease in his role.

And then there was Speirs.

He stood tall in his formal uniform, his polished boots planted firmly in the grass, looking every bit the legend he had become. Beside him, Lipton stood as his best man, hands clasped behind his back, a proud but amused smile on his face.

You, on the other hand, were adjusting the fabric of your dress—another ‘find’ from one of the local homes —fitted as best as you could manage with the help of your fellow nurses. It wasn’t perfect, but it was clean, and for the first time in a long time, you felt soft again.

Winters cleared his throat beside you. “Ready?”

You nodded, taking his offered arm. “You’re sure about this, Major? I mean I know I don’t exactly have family here to walk me down the aisle, but I could always walk alo…,” he didn’t give you the chance to finish.

Winters gave you a rare, soft smile. “Family isn’t just blood. It’s my honor to do this.”

Your throat tightened. You squeezed his arm gently. “Thank you.”

Then, the two of you walked forward.

Speirs’ gaze locked onto you immediately, and for the first time in your entire relationship—if you could call it that—you swore you saw something like awe in his eyes.

When you reached him, Winters gave you a small nod before stepping aside.

Speirs eyed your dress, his smirk barely hidden. “Where’d you get that?”

You smirked back. “You’re not the only one with scavenging skills, Captain.”

Lipton huffed a quiet laugh beside him.

Speirs chuckled, shaking his head slightly. Then, his expression softened. “You look beautiful.”

Your heart flipped, warmth blooming in your chest. “Careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

His lips twitched. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

The chaplain cleared his throat, and the ceremony began.

It was quick, simple, but perfect. When Speirs slid the ring onto your finger, his hands were steady, his grip sure.

Then, as soon as the chaplain pronounced you husband and wife, Speirs didn’t hesitate.

He pulled you to him and kissed you, slow and deep, his hands curling around your waist like he wasn’t letting go.

Applause and cheers erupted from the men, Lipton giving an approving nod while Luz whooped loud enough for half the barracks to hear.

But none of that mattered.

Because as you pulled back, catching your breath, Speirs met your gaze, and in that moment, you knew

No matter what came next, no matter where they were sent—

You were his.

And he was yours.

——————————- 🪖🪖🪖———————————

EPILOGUE

Colonel Sink signed off on the marriage paperwork the next morning, making everything official in the event Speirs and the boys were reassigned.

But, as fate would have it, the war ended before that could happen.

Easy Company wasn’t sent to the Pacific.

They went home. Together.

And Ronald Speirs, the man everyone swore was made of steel, returned with his wife.

[she-wolf09231982]

Eugene Doc Roe

“Still Falling For You.”

Summary: You did your best to get through the war without getting too attached to anyone. The amount of loss you’ve seen as a combat medic taught you that tomorrow is no guarantee, and that it would be foolish to connect to anyone. That all flew out the window after you met Eugene Roe.

A/N: One shot, EugeneDocRoex!FemMedic, WW2, Female Pronouns, Cursing/Swearing, Military and Medical Terminology, Inappropriate Nicknames, HBO Band of Brothers References, Mentions/Descriptions of Injuries/Wounds, Weaponry, Smoking, Drinking, FOREVER FLUFF/FLUFF AND STUFF

(d)=Dutch

(f)=French

~~~~~~~

October 1944, Holland

You had been assigned to Dog Company while he ran with Easy. You’ve only seen him in passing in Toccoa during training, but it seemed you ran into him quite often in Holland.

This man always had an intense expression. His defined jawline always clenched, and eyebrows usually drawn inward giving his face that constant look of concern.

You had always seen him from distance. The closest you two ever got was when you both reached for the same pack of dressing at med supply at the aid station in Aldbourne. You reached without looking and his hand accidentally grabbed yours. Startled, you pulled your hand back and you heard his honeyed Cajun accent,

“Oh, sorry, go ahead.” He had said with a weak smile, gesturing to the pack on the shelf.

You were almost a puddle at his feet.

Now as cold October nights came in Holland 2 years later, you’re bumping into eachother more than you can count. Not that you were complaining. He was a handsome man, and it warmed you from the inside to see him.

You never really had a reason to talk to him. You tried to not be a distraction or get too involved with people during the war. You made that mistake when one of the soldiers from Dog Company led you to believe he was interested in a longterm romance with you but you caught him with a local blonde bombshell in England before D-Day.

You felt it best to keep to yourself and do your best keeping yourself busy helping the boys stay alive in the field. So, making small talk with this other medic outside duty related reasons was out of the question. But, goodness, he was quite the tall drink of water.

~~~~~~~

One particularly chilly October evening, you both arrived to the aid station with wounded men from the field.

“Nurse! We got a gunshot wound to the right lower quadrant here. One syrette.” You explain as you followed the litter that carried your wounded man in.

“Thank you, Corporal Y/L/N. We got him from here.”

“I got a chest wound here, nurse. Two, possibly three syrettes were used on this man.” The other medic called out.

“Two, possibly three?” The nurse repeated.

“Yes ma’am. The men who applied them couldn’t remember how many they used, unfortunately.” He clarified.

“I see,” the nurse returned, “thanks, Gene.”

A name….Now you have a name to go with the man. You wished you hadn’t heard it, now it made him more real to you. Without a name, he was just considered a living dream with just a job title. Just a face amongst a crowd. Now, you know his name, pushing him into your reality on a whole different level.

You vigorously shake your head to snap out of your intrusive thoughts.

“Get it together, Y/F/N.” You whisper to yourself.

“That’s a pretty name.” You hear a baritone voice from behind you.

Your heart skips as your breathe catches in your chest. You turn slowly and come face to face with Gene.

You swallow hard, “Uh, thank you.” You squeak.

“I’m Eugene. Eugene Roe.” He introduced extending his right hand.

You gingerly take his hand and shake, “Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

“Good to finally meet ya.”

“Ha, yeah.” You utter smiling coyly looking down at your boots.

You were known to be impenetrable under pressure. You could easily find a vein and apply an IV of plasma to a man’s arm in the midst of complete chaos during combat…but this guy had you falling apart inside just by speaking to you.

“You doin’ ok over at Dog Company?” He asked.

“It’s been busy. Mostly men with pneumonia. The guy I came with was on patrol and was shot after they stumbled upon a German outpost.” You explained, “What about you?”

“Steady. Moose over there was shot by one of our own guys. Kid got spooked when our CO and him were doing post checks and he shot him thinking it was a German.”

“That’s awful.”

“Well, the worst part was the officers with him didn’t keep track of how much morphine they gave him. Could’ve killed him.” Gene added.

“The nurses are great here, I’m sure they’ll be able to help him.”

He smirked briefly, “Yeah, well good thing he’s a big man, maybe he’ll have a chance.”

You nod in agreement.

“Well, I should get back. See ya around.” Gene said with a smile before he rushed out the door.

~~~~~~~

November 1944

Throughout the everyday chaos of tending to wounded soldiers, you found peace on your downtime (when you did get days off) reading in your foxhole or going into town to grab a hot shower and have a few drinks at the local pub in town. Two medics were assigned to each company, so on slower days when the Germans weren’t raining hell on Americans, they would rotate out to take a break.

It was your turn to take a break, so you hitched a ride into town and cleaned yourself up donning in your dress uniform. You usually sit tucked away at the end of the bar so you wouldn’t be bothered. As more soldiers and locals started to filter in, you notice Gene breeze through the door with a handful of Easy.

You light a cigarette to calm your nerves.

“Nog eentje, mevrouw? (d)(Another one, Miss)?” The bartender asked.

“Ja, bedankt (d)(Yes, thank you).” You reply drinking down the last of what was left in your bottle.

You glance over by the dart boards and see Gene and his group settled at a table and began ordering their beverages from the barmaid.

“Hey, Doc, ain’t that the Dog Company medic you told us about?” Guarnere asked nudging Gene with his elbow.

Gene looked over his shoulder at the bar.

“Sure is.” He acknowledged simply.

“Pretty girl.” Babe professed.

Gene hummed as he took a gulp of beer from the pint the waitress put in front of him.

“So, you gonna go talk to her?” Perconte prodded.

Gene looked at him inquisitively, “Why?”

“Come on, Doc! We know you got it for her. Whenever we come cross Dog Company you light up like a goddamn Christmas tree.” Guarnere exclaimed.

Gene scoffed, “You know that ain’t true, Bill.” He dismissed as he sipped from his glass.

“My ass, it ain’t!” Bill retorted.

“What if I told you she looked over here a couple of times since we got in here?” Babe revealed.

Gene shrugged while twirling his glass on the table.

As the room started to fill up, the music picked up and before you knew it, couples were tearing up the dance floor. Bill and Babe found ladies to dance with while Frank and Gene watched on from their table. You remained at the bar observing the crowd as they whimsically enjoyed their evening.

“She looks bored.” Frank observed.

“Perhaps.” Gene replied.

Frank rolled his eyes, “Just go to her!”

“I don’t wanna interfere with her personal time, Frank.”

“Well, looks like Guarnere is extending the invite.” Frank pointed out.

Gene quickly turned around to see Bill gesturing for you to join them. You were reluctant at first, not wanting to impose, but Gene can see he was insisting as he ushered you off the barstool and guided you towards their table.

As he approached Gene and Frank, he flashed Doc a mischievous grin.

“This here is Frank Perconte. Frank, Y/F/N.” Bill began.

“Good to meet ya!” Frank waved from his seat. You nod to him.

“And I know you know Doc, over here.” Bill added.

“Yes, I’ve had the pleasure of running into him a few times.” You proclaim.

Gene smiled at you as he stood to pull the chair out next to him for you to sit,

“Always my pleasure, Y/F/N.” He returned politely.

~~~~~~~

The night was filled with laughter at that table. You were starting to like Easy better than Dog Company. These guys had a sense of humor and from the stories they told that evening, the rest of Easy were not far off from them.

Eugene was the strong silent type. Only smiling or chuckling as the boys bantered and laughed and only said anything when they asked him to confirm their anecdotes about being on the front line. He would occasionally make eye contact with you leaving you shyly giggling as you try to maintain your composure.

But as the evening came to a close, you felt a sense of dread that you may not get the opportunity to see him again. At least not under these pleasant circumstances. The boys stood up and filed towards the door. Gene pulled your chair from under you as you stood.

“This turned out to be a wonderful evening, Gene. Your friends are a hoot.”

“They sure are.” He agreed with a laugh.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you out there.” You said as you walk together towards the exit.

“Absolutely.” He confirmed smiling.

~~~~~~~

The following week, the Germans were relentless with artillery attacks causing mass casualties to Easy Company. Your CO approached you with temporary orders to report to Winters over at Easy Company because their back up medic had a minor injury while administering care to another wounded soldier.

Your nerves were a wreck as you looked for Eugene’s foxhole. You peered into each hole to no avail until you finally found a familiar face.

“Hey, do either of you know where Doc Roe is?”

Guarnere’s face met yours, “Hey! Look who it is!”

“Hey, Bill! Good to see ya.”

“Yeah, doll, Doc’s over dat way.” He pointed over to the tree line.

“Thanks, Bill, I’ll see ya.”

You look into the hole and see Gene sitting against the dirt wall fiddling with a rosary in his hands.

“Hey, Eugene.” You greet as you crouch over the opening.

He looked up, a smile stretching across his face.

“Bonjour mon ami (f) (Hello, my friend).”

“You speak French.”

“Oui. I was raised in Louisiana and my grandmother mainly spoke French.” He explained.

You hop into the hole and sit next to him.

“You’ll have to tell me more about home sometime.”

“Gladly.”

Just then, you both hear Lipton’s voice in the distance.

“INCOMING!”

You hear a blast from German artillery nearby. You both stand and peak over the edge. You look around in all directions seeing soldiers running to foxholes manning their positions to prepare to fight back. More attacks from the Germans showered dirt and shrapnel everywhere until you heard that familiar call:

“MEDIC!”

You scurry out of the hole and sprint towards the shout for help.

“Y/F/N! WAIT!” You hear Gene call after you.

You dive behind snow mounds and piles of fallen trees for cover everytime a blast strikes close enough to where you are. You squat behind a pine, straining to hear the call for medic again.

“MEDIC!”

You run in the direction of the voice you can hear closest to you. Weaving and dodging blasts and pings of bullets flying past your head. 

You finally find a soldier laid out on the ground bleeding from his left arm.

“I gotchya.” You say as you land on your knees next to the man.

“You ain’t Doc.” He said through heaves of breath.

“Glad you can tell the difference, corporal.” You say as you tie a tourniquet on his bicep.

You pull a large gauze out, stuffing it down into the wound opening.

“Ack! Why’s it tingling!?”

“There’s sulfur on it to clot the bleeding.” You explain as you push a dressing into his arm to put pressure on the gash.

When the bleeding stops, you securely wrap his arm to keep the pressure on the wound.

“Can you make it to HQ?” You yell out to him while more explosions erupted around you.

He nodded.

“Ok go!”

As he hurried off, you see Gene waving you over to him to take cover with him behind a pile of fallen trees. You take off towards him until a German shell detonated in your path sending you backward onto your back.

“Y/F/N!” Gene’s muffled voice was the last thing you heard before tinnitus set in.

Delirium had you standing looking for safety, not realizing you were in fact putting yourself in more danger. Through the ringing in your ears, you faintly hear Gene calling your name to get down but all you knew was you were out in the open and needed to find cover.

You continued to walk aimlessly, believing you were closer to refuge until you feel yourself once again propelled backwards onto the ground, this time by Gene tackling you as another explosion emitted less than a few feet away from where you were.

Gene sprang to his feet, taking you by the arm and hoisting you over his shoulder carrying you off as fast as he could to the nearest trench. He slid on his rear down into the next hole he found, bringing you in front of him where he could cradle you in his arms. He shielded your face by tucking your head into the crook of his neck.

“I gotchya, mon amour (f) (my love).” He reassured as he rocked you back and forth.

Your eyelids started to feel heavy as tunnel vision began closing in. Gene looked down at you when he felt your body going limp.

“Hey, Y/F/N, stay with me! Stay awake!” He pleaded as he gently shook you.

“I’m so tired-“

“I know, mon amour (f) (my love), but I need you to stay awake.” He implored.

He noticed the right sleeve of your uniform was saturated in red.

“-merde (f)(shit).”He whispered to himself as he unbuttoned your collar to locate the source of the bleeding.

As he pulled the neckline of the shirt off to the side, he discovered you had shards of metal from the German shell spiking out of your shoulder.

“I’m gonna get these out, Y/F/N.” He said as he gently placed you on your back.

He ripped your uniform sleeve to expose your whole right arm, then braced you down with his forearm across your sternum and started pulling them out one by one by hand. You hissed at each extraction, trying not to pass out from the pain. When he finished removing them all, he took a syrette from his pocket and injected it in your tricep.

“You’re gonna be ok, mon amour.” He said softly as he applied a large gauze and wrapped your shoulder.

“Make sure you remember how much morphine you used.” You weakly joked.

His worried features melted into an adoring grin, as he affectionately brushed away loose strands of your hair away from your face.

Last thing you remember was Eugene placing a soft kiss on your forehead before the world around you slipped into darkness.

~~~~~~~

You awoke in a panic two days later, only remembering you had been surrounded by chaos and danger, not realizing you were in the solace of the aid station. A nurse hurried over to calm you when you shot up from the cot alarmed.

“It’s alright, honey, you’re safe. Just breathe for me.” She instructed.

You can’t catch your breath at first, but take a deep breath to slow it down. You suddenly remember the wound on your shoulder and no sooner does the thought cross your mind a sharp pain begins to throb in your entire right arm.

“Son of a bitch!” You bellow as you touch the mummy wrapping across your shoulder.

“Oh my!” The nurse gasped at your language.

You groan, “I’m sorry. Kinda rubs off on ya when you’re surrounded by men all the time.”

“Hm, well let’s get you something for the pain, shall we?” She suggested as she walked off.

~~~~~~~

You hadn’t seen Eugene for days. You began to worry that something might have happened, but according to the nurses, the front lines were quite busy and all medics had their hands full.

“Well, then I need to get back out there.”

“Absolutely not! You’re not even close to a full recovery!” The nurse stated.

“I’m close enough. They need me.” You insisted as you started to put on your uniform.

Against the better judgement of the nurses, you finally left the aid station, hitching a ride to the line to finally see Gene. Before even reporting back to Dog Company, you wander around Easy Company’s camp searching for him.

Not before long, you see a familiar figure with his back facing you. Your heart beats against your ribcage something painful when you see his medic brassard on his left arm.

Your breathe catches in your throat, as a tear escapes the corner of your eye. You want to run to him, but your knees almost give out, so instead you call to him.

“Eugene!” You yell as loud as your lungs would allow.

Gene immediately turned after hearing your voice.

“Y/F/N!?”

You beam at him and quickly walk to him while he trotted towards you to meet you half way. As the gap close between you and Eugene, the concern on his face increased. You each stop less than a foot from eachother.

“Why aren’t you at the aid station??” Gene queried with his eyebrows furrowed from worry.

“I wanted to get back out here to help.” You clarified.

His lips pursed together in disapproval.

“You need to heal. That shell did a number on your shoulder. You lost a lot of blood, too. I know cuz I put the IV in myself to give you plasma.” He declared.

Your heart soars at his confession. You inch so close to him, you feel his breath upon your face.

“You saved my life, Eugene.”

He returned a bashful grin.

“It was nothin’.” He replied simply.

“It must’ve been something. I heard you call me your love a couple of times out there. ‘Mon amor,’ I believe you said?” You presented.

Slightly embarrassed, Gene averted his eyes to the ground.

“I did.” He admitted still avoiding eye contact.

His chest started to palpitate.

“Eugene-“ you began as you slipped your hands into his. He gradually met your gaze.

“Oui?”

You pull him towards you, “I fell for you the first day I saw you. And I’m still falling for you.”

Completely astonished, Gene enveloped you, pulling you against him as he planted kisses on the top of your head, your temple and all over your face. You giggle then look up at him through your lashes. He dreamily looks back at you then leaned in locking his lips onto yours.

He cupped your face, tilting his head to deepen the kiss as you return the intensity. You separate briefly, your mouths hovering over one another as you pant for air.

“Does that mean you feel the same?” You ask playfully.

He rests his forehead against yours, then released an elated exhale.

“With all my heart.” He purred.

~~~~~~~

@mrs-greenside I almost forgot to tag you for this Doc Roe x y/n! Here’s a one shot for you until I write a multiple chapter series with y/n 🪖 ♠️ 🦅❤️

[indigo-graves]

Warmth | Eugene Roe

When the curtains were no longer able to block out the sun, there was a shift beside Roe, which caused him to stir. There was a moment where he found himself struggling to orient himself to the room. It had been all too easy to forget he was in a bedroom, under warm linens, and not in the snow-dusted forest of Bastogne. A warmth he never would quite be able to replicate radiated from beside him, something he had an even harder time orienting himself to. Even more recent than their arrival at the Eagle’s Nest, was the bedfellow he had found once they got there. 

Gene turned, inhaling her scent. The soap had found in that bathroom was lovely, of course, but he found himself dizzy with desire when he leaned closer, his head tilted to inhale the spot where her hair lingered on her neck. He took a deep breath in, taking in the soft, sweet natural scent, the depth of the warmth that grew in his belly was new. Would he ever get used to being this close? The smokey bite from the fireplace that lingered in her hair felt familiar. He had recalled it from close, accidental brushes when he worked beside her on the battlefield. 

She stirred again, humming as she readjusted herself into the pillow, the mattress, into him. He felt a hum of appreciation rumble deep in his chest. He pressed his lips gently to the back of her shoulder, taking his time to feel the warmth of her skin. Wordlessly, she reached over, taking his hand in hers. He grinned against her skin when she held his hand in hers, lining the length of her fingers up with his. Their two hands became one shadow, blocking the direct light of the sun shining in on the pair. She tipped her fingers between his and pulled it down across her body. His fingers still flexed, hers gripping at his hand, she brought each of the tips of his fingers to her mouth. A kiss was placed on the pad of each finger slowly. Taking her time to recall memories of watching them work tirelessly to keep the Company alive. 

Roe chuckled, the muscles in his cheeks ached from smiling. She felt it against her skin, thanking God for the smile. Few and far between had he shared it with her as they navigated their way across Europe, attempting to keep the Easy Company in one piece. Since finding a place away from mortar rounds and gunfire, both seemed to share those far more freely. And they were not the only two that noticed. 

“Do you think they’ll notice if we both come down to get something to eat at the same time?” She whispered against the back of his hand as she kissed it. He chuckled and moved closer. 

“I don’t think so,” He responded, kissing the back of her neck in kind. “But again, mon cher, it’s not me who is worried about getting caught.” 

She rolled her eyes. She was certainly not going to have this argument on an empty stomach. It had nothing to do with him, of course. Any woman would have tripped over themselves to have a chance to be so adored by a man like Eugene Roe. But it was not something she wanted to be decided until they knew whether or not they would be sent to the Pacific. 

“Gene,” she sighed, turning to face him. He had spent 28 days across from her in Bastogne. They had locked eyes hundreds, if not thousands of times. But each time she focused those large blue eyes on his, he felt a tension in his stomach that no woman had ever caused before. 

“I know,” he nodded. He felt goosebumps raise on his skin as her hand rested on his chest. A soft smile played at his lips in contrast to the pout that had pulled at hers. He kissed her forehead softly, inhaling deeply at the crown of her head. “You stay here. I’ll go get you something to eat.” 

She pressed her lips together and shook her head, “you go down first. Get yourself something. I’ve got to wash up first anyhow.” 

Eugene nodded. He brushed his lips over hers in a whisper of a movement. He swallowed his words. She smiled, pressed a more forceful kiss to his mouth, and rolled out of bed. Again, he thought, he would never be able to replicate that warmth anywhere else in the world.